"Hey, boss." Quincy made a dopey laugh; he had caught Darla's musket after she threw it, and he was now aiming it at the blonde girl who was giving them so much trouble. The blonde girl, not wanting to risk a serious injury, stopped her charge and raised her hands. "Uh, what do I do with this?"

At long last, Quincy had done something that didn't mess up his plans. "Yes! Yes, Quincy! You got her on the ropes, now!" El Buitre threw an uppercut at the air. "What are you waiting for? Let her have it!"

"Lenoria!" A heavy swing from Alistair brought down one of the abrikandilu that had surrounded him. He had struck the demon square on the chest and was pretty sure the ribcage collapsed inside the vile fiend. "Let me through!" But the other demons would not let him pass. He had to take them down, lest the front line was compromised and let the others through to take on the rear line.

As for Lenoria, a new challenger had stepped up to block her path. Having a long firearm aimed at her was nerve-wracking enough, but she also had to contend with this man's size; he easily towered over her and must have been at least a foot taller than Alistair. If only she was close enough to Solveig, at least she would get him off her back. No, after some inspection on her target, she had an idea. Someone like him could still be taken down.

"Alright, Quincy." Lenoria extended both of her hands outward. "Let me have it."

"Huh?" Lenoria's command took Quincy by surprise. It wasn't an order from his boss, so he just continued to aim at her.

"Hey, mister! Didn't you hear the boss? Let me have it!"

A bold gambit, but Quincy had already proven himself to be smarter than he let on. He just witnessed this girl take on some demons and bravely charged towards their rear line. Darla was down and Legs was busy, so it was up to Quincy to be El Buitre's meat shield. There was no way he would fall for the girl's mind game-

"Uh, okay." Quincy handed the musket to Lenoria, at first wondering how she'll be able to take it with her hands already grabbing on to her caestus. With some help from the girl, he settled for the open jaguar jaws the melee weapons symbolized. "I've done it, boss! Just like you said, I let her have it!"

"Quincy, you re-" El Buitre had to keep quiet. This story never shied away from being graphic but shouting out slurs and some of the...stronger curse words was a fine way to get censored. And if there was something our skinny feathered villain was proud of, it was that he was able to finish fights without having to start them unless he wanted to. He wasn't about to let his anger put him into another sensitivity meeting, and-

Well, that all changed when Lenoria stuck her tongue out at him mockingly. That's when he lost it. He started by screaming as loud as he could, then he followed that by shouting every word he could think off, then repeat those words in his native tongue. Whatever giant moths happened to be in the vicinity flew away in an instant, frightened by the volume and intensity of El Buitre's curse-laden volley.

The abrikandilu blushed.

Alistair seemed confused.

Cecilia raised an eyebrow.

Aquamarine hid her face shamefully.

Solveig and Cepheus were unfazed.

And Lenoria had to keep herself from giggling as her face, too, turned red. "Oh, my gosh. I know some of those words."

"Yeah, you get used to it," Quincy said. "The boss gets like that every time I mess up."

"Wait, really?"

"Yuh-huh. He smacks me around when I fetch him something I thought he wanted or when he thinks I'm out of line. Darla does it to me, too. A-And Legs. Sometimes they call me those words and smack me around. I must be a terrible person."

"Is that so?" As terrible as this was, the girl saw her chance. "You know, if I was your friend, I wouldn't hit you like they do."

"Huh? Why not? Darla says pretty girls get to hit men as much as they want and get away with it."

"You flatter me, Quincy, but my boyfriend is over there." She pointed at Alistair. "I'm not sure he would like it if another man called me pretty."

"Oh." Quincy removed his bowler hat and scratched his balding head. "Then why did Darla say it was okay to say it, no matter to who..."

"Whom, and I wouldn't know. But real friends wouldn't smack you around or set you up for failure. They wouldn't call you names, either."

Names like...mongrel?

"Real friends...will like you for who you are. They wouldn't do anything to hurt you; in fact, real friends would at least try to avoid doing anything that would hurt you."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The girl smiled throughout her discourse, but she also fought to keep her tears inside. What Quincy was going through was fairly similar to the experience she faced in those days back at the Artificers Guild. Thomas's harassment, Carter's mental abuse, and Steiner's beatdowns were brought to mind. By comparison, it seemed Quincy was treated differently due to his apparent mental disability. She felt bad for not knowing what condition he had, but the Order of the Blue Jay must have been harassing the poor guy, and he must have accepted it as terms of endearment. Indeed, his unawareness to the abuse was the difference between him and Lenoria.

She had to do something. It was hubris to believe she could talk him out of doing bad things with them, but she did have to get him away from them as fast as possible. Her eyes darted to the vulture just up ahead, still under his curse-laden tantrum. All she needed now was to keep Quincy distracted long enough to do what needed to be done. And for that, she had to play with his childish tendencies.

"Say, Quincy, thanks again for letting me have this here musket. But I think your boss will be happy if I gave it back, so why don't we play a game?" Lenoria pointed at the forest exit, now devoid of silk and vines thanks to Cepheus's power. "We're gonna play hide and seek. Why don't you go outside of the forest and count to 100? Then, if you find me, I'll give you back this musket. Deal?"

"Uh, okay!"

"But it has to be at 100, okay? And no peeking!" Lenoria quickly checked the battlefield. Thanks to Solveig and Alistair, three of the abrikandilu had been taken down. The other three had surrounded Alistair, but he looked none the worse for wear. Solveig struggled to land a hit on the dwarf, who was either dodging her heavy swings or blocked them with both of his axes when she almost got a lucky hit in. Aquamarine had taken it upon herself to support Solveig with water blasts, hoping to score a lucky hit. Then there was Cecilia, who was using her trickery to befuddle the demons with such things like laughing spells. They didn't work too well on demons, but not for lack of trying.

With some gesturing towards the rear line, Lenoria convinced the girls to let Quincy pass. As for Alistair, he was not totally aware what was going on, but there was enough space outside of his swinging range that would allow safe passage if Quincy was quick enough.

And quick he was.

With the eagerness of a child, Quincy wasted no time in doing what Lenoria asked him to do and ran for the exit Cepheus had made for them. The girls did not stop him, Alistair was too far from him, and the demons did not care. With Darla out and El Buitre still under his tantrum, only Legs was able to call out to him.

"Quincy, you rock-headed simpleton! Where are you going?!" Legs's momentary pause was interrupted by a blade to the side. Solveig's woldo, by sheer luck, connected with the dwarf's midsection and finally drew blood from him.

"You're a slippery one for sure." Solveig retracted her blade. The dwarf's blood dropped along the grass on its way back to its wielder. "You fight like a lot of the dwarves I've faced in the mountains. Why are your talents wasted on the Order of the Blue Jay?"

"Heh. Your kind would never understand our goals," spat the wounded dwarf.

"Believe me, we tried," Alistair added after blocking the claw of an abrikandilu. "There's no understanding you cultists. I'm sure if anyone else followed us along since our departure from Helix City, they wouldn't understand your motives, either!"

On top of adding to the banter, Alistair had observed Quincy leave the forest unimpeded. Three abrikandilu remained, but none would let him pass.

"More importantly, why did Lenoria let that Blue Jay go?" The paladin's eyes shifted back to his beloved, who gently set down the musket on the ground, smacked her caestus against each other, and waded through the wriggling undergrowth towards the boss of the operation. "Whatever it is, be careful. Something about that leader feels off. He hasn't lifted a finger to help his teammates, but these Blue Jays will do anything to save their own lives."

"-and once we're done here, Quincy," El Buitre's eyes spiraled deviously as he wrapped up his tantrum, "you're going to bed without supper! How does that sound?"

All he could see, however, was his men either absent or dying...and Lenoria reaching for his shoulder. The cold iron's touch came as a shocking sting to him as he dreadfully anticipated what came next.

"Would you care to repeat that, carrion breath?" A punch to the beak pushed El Buitre back a couple of feet. He wiped the blood from his mouth and spat out a tooth and smiled at her.

"Heheh. The leader likes them scared, but I like my prey with a little fire in them."

"I don't see what you're smiling about. Or maybe you're just delusional like your buddy Spark."

"Spark?" There was some familiarity in that name for El Buitre. "Spark was an arrogant dog who got put down like one. You wouldn't happen to be the ones that did it, would you?"

"What? No, we didn't kill him." Lenoria looked back at the others; everyone was busy fighting someone. Legs refused to go down and the abrikandilu tried to run past Alistair to reach the girls, who backed him up with their spells. It was up to Lenoria alone to clear the air and take care of the leader. But Spark died after their last encounter? "We got a bone to pick with him. Are you telling me someone killed him?"

"If it wasn't you, then who?" El Buitre smiled. From his pocket, he grabbed a deck of playing cards. The back was red in color, and white on the edges. "Maybe we can use divination to figure that out."

"Nice try, but I know a deck of playing cards when I see one."

"There's no tricking a dama like you, is there? Fine. Then I wish to play a card game with you, instead."

Lenoria assumed a defensive stance by raising both fists while one of her elbows covered her midsection. "A card game? What did you have in mind; Blackjack? Old Maid?"

"No." Icy spikes protruded from El Buitre's chosen card. "I was thinking more along the lines of a cold War!"

The card was tossed. Reflexively, Lenoria crossed her arms to cover her face, and felt a sharp sting on one of her forearms, followed by the pangs of frostbite. Individually, neither the card or the ice were as painful as the bites of the demons she just shook off, but the two forces combined formed something deadly. What's more, that power came from a single card; El Buitre already had more between his claws, ready to be tossed.

"Oh, you're gonna be a tough one to put down," Lenoria commented.