Day 70, 11:05 AM

“Comfort is the worst addiction.”

— Marcus Aurelius

I place my hand on Manny’s thigh just as everyone is about to stand up.

“I have something to discuss with general Aang in private, if you do not mind.”

Phill and Gomer act like nothing had happened. Vatten gives her a look, but turns his head the next moment and leaves the room with the other two.

“Is he really that strong?” I hear the count ask through the closed door.

“A real monster. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“What is it?” Manny says, and I no longer hear the old men talking. “We cannot have sex now. We have more important matters at hand.”

What do you take me for?

I clear my throat and pretend not to be offended. “Are there any other legendary existences buried in our backyard? Vampires? Mummies? Chupacabras? Maybe other weird animals?”

“I do not know what vampires and chupacabras are. Some people mummify their dead, and they could become devils, if that is what you are asking. As for other weird animals, what is your standard for weird animals?”

Anything out of the ordinary, like platypuses, elephants, giraffes, armadillos… Come to think, other than domestic animals and their wildlife cousins, just about everything else is weird.

“Sorry. I was vague. Anything dangerous to us personally or human civilization in general.”

She nods and looks up at the ceiling. It lasts way too long for comfort. The list is empty, or really, really long.

Finally, she looks back at me. “I already told you about griffons. I am certain you have seen the handful of gargoyles around the city. They are quite dangerous, but you can pacify them by leaving a bowl of milk in front of your door.”

What? “What?”

“You need not worry. Children with bowls of milk safeguard us every evening. Nothing to be concerned about.”

She’s pulling my leg. My breathing quickens. Her expression is calm. There’s not a hint of lies. Have I seen any bowls of milk in front of house doors at night? Think, think.

Manny bursts into laughter. “Your face was precious.”

“You said no sex, and here you are, screwing with me. I’m serious.” I glare at her, and she stops laughing.

“I apologize.” She flashes me a sweet smile completely at odds with the polite words, but it ain’t sweet enough, and my mind is getting used to dissonance between her words and expressions. “It is very difficult for me to come up with what is unusual in the world I lived in since birth. However, I can make a list of dangerous plants, animals, and other… threats, by the end of the day. How does that sound?”

I nod, making a grumpy face, which bums me a peck on the cheek.

“If that is all…” She tries to get up, but I keep holding her thigh.

“It’s not. Who will protect you while I’m subjugating these devils?”

“We have plenty of competent men to guard me.”

I shake my head. “No way. The competent men can guard the entrance to the tomb. You are going with me, for several reasons.”

She lifts her eyebrow, and I keep talking.

“One, this is probably the assassin’s attempt to separate us.”

She hesitates, but nods. That is an easy and logical conclusion, forcing the strongest warriors to handle the devil outbreak, leaving the queen defenseless.

“Two, you are a woman, some may try to use it against you calling you a coward, unfit for battle and rule. Joining a devil subjugation, especially being on the front line, will shut them all up. Especially if it’s just the two of us.”

She glares at me, but again nods. This time there’s no hesitation, just anger.

Wow, thank you intellect!

“Three, I will still need an assistant to carry the molotovs, and there is nobody I trust more in this world than you. You are my queen, I am your king, that is the agreement. You don’t risk your life, but you help me with the mundane tasks.”

She folds her arms, but her glare isn’t as angry, more amused.

“I am waiting.” She starts tapping her feet, and I don’t know what she’s waiting for. Luckily, I was married, and realization kicks in after a moment.

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“I’m sorry.”

She furrows her brows and the tapping stops.

“Can you read my mind?”

“No, I was married,” Blunt says, and I laugh.

“Stop laughing! This is serious! You cannot quote a void contract in which one side was agreeing to marriage and the other to a business deal she believed was exploiting and humiliating her. I will be your queen, and you will be my king. You will risk your life for me, but I will also risk my life for you.”

Huh?

“How was I exploiting and humiliating you? I literally told you I’d die for you, and you just have to stay safe. Where’s the exploitation? Where’s the humiliation?”

“I believed you wanted to abuse my name and use me for sex whenever you felt like it.”

“That’s not much different from what’s happening right now?” Blunt says, and I want to strangle the bastard.

Manny’s face turns blank, her lip twists in disgust. This was really really kicking her straight in her taboo, but after a moment she smiles and shakes her head.

“You are really, really…” She struggles to find the right word.

Wonderful? Intelligent? Kind? I know it’s none of those, but a man can hope.

“Infuriating. Why cannot you say something nice? Or just keep quiet?”

I open my mouth, but she places a finger on it, keeping me quiet.

“I know, I know. It is the curse talking, but please try to think of nicer things. That should negate your curse. Maybe we gag you? Do you know that sometimes, often several times a day, I recall you wanting to feel my screaming orgasm, and I am unsure whether to laugh or cry. How did such words find a way into your head? Why?”

Too much porn, probably.

Fortunately, Blunt doesn’t like that one. Maybe that’s just me cracking jokes for my own personal amusement and not what I really believe? Whatever the case, I shrug.

“I’ll try. Now, will you follow me into a crypt for a nice and relaxing, assassin-free evening of devil subjugating, bondage, and weird, padded costumes?”

She rolls her eyes, and I let go of her thigh, even though my hand really liked it there.

“And, if you’re in the mood after we’re done—”

“I, a pregnant woman, will absolutely, under no conditions do anything intimate with you inside a tomb, in the middle of the graveyard, while battling one of the ever-present, highly contagious dangers to civilization and mankind, while our soldiers are blocking the entrance.”

I open my mouth again, but her finger is there before I speak a syllable.

“You are not laying a finger on me until we bathe, with soap, maybe even with rubbing alcohol. Do you have any idea how gross and disgusting your suggestion sounds?”

***

Day 70, 4:00 PM

I’m dressed like a pack of dogs will come running to tear at me for hours. If I had this when I fought those wolves with Lea, I could’ve slowly stomped them to death, one by one, without suffering a scratch.

Manny is wearing a similar getup, entering the tomb three steps behind me, wheeling a cart. Half the cart is leather bindings and chains, but two dozen half-gallon jugs full of flammables are a lot more important in my book. Manny also has a torch, but all the illumination I need is from the molotov in my hand.

As soon as I lit it and made my improvised torch, I started grinning like an idiot. I’m literally an anarchist, using a molotov cocktail to light my path. Maybe blaze it? I’m uncertain which sounds better, but it certainly has a philosophical ring to it.

“What are you chuckling at?” Manny’s voice has a nervous note about it. She’s trying to suppress it. While she trusts me enough to enter a ghoul-infested tomb with me, pregnant at that, her fear is inevitable and perfectly understandable.

“I didn’t come up with these. We used to call them molotov cocktails, in honor of some despised lord back home. Molotovs were a cheap tool for those fighting against authority, and considering our circumstances of, you know, fighting against the king, I found it somewhat funny.”

I pause for a second, not sure whether I should explain everything, but I don’t want to keep secrets from Manny.

“We could use them in battle, too. They would be devastating in a couple of fights, then the enemy would get the same idea and start using them against us. In my former world, this happened with everything and civilian and soldier loss of life just kept escalating, along with the size of the conflicts. I wouldn’t be surprised if the flame of war consumed my former world, and I don’t want that to happen to this one. People hitting each other with sticks and steel can only inflict a finite amount of damage to each other and the environment.”

I have already decided to spare these people from malicious technology such as gunpowder and dynamite. I don’t know how to make gunpowder, but I know more or less how to make glycerine and adding a nitrate to it is just several dead apothecaries away from real explosives and the start of this world’s misfortune.

I can’t believe Novel never guessed his invention for blowing up rocks would be used for blowing up people.

“If you think we should refrain from using them, then we will not use them.” Manny supports my decision, but still took a moment before speaking her mind. She probably considered the advantages of using primitive flame bombs after I revealed the concept.

“You fine with the cart? It’s not too heavy?” I change the subject, there’s no need to dive into nuclear weaponry, biowarfare, suicide drones, and other horrors of my civilized world.

“I can manage. Honestly, the suit is a bigger problem.”

Yeah, I feel like a Micholin Man or someone sentenced to greet people in Bizneyland.

“I won’t let any of them near you, but better safe than sorry. If—”

Nearby rustle choked my reassurance. The palm holding the molotov turns slick. I squint and see nothing suspicious, but the faint light of my improvised torch reaches five yards at best. We have barely taken ten steps inside, yet sunlight doesn’t reach this deep.

A bead of sweat slides down my temple when I catch movement. Based on how the merc described the attack I expected the devil would sprint and pounce, but it shuffles in the darkness, slowly emerging into the light.

“Back away,” I hiss, observing the silent devil.

It’s a mangled woman, her throat torn, caked blood tainting her white shirt. Her eyes are mostly pitch black, her mouth open. Her leg jerks, and she steps forward with her leg before the rest of her body leans over and follows, pulling the other leg like it’s petrified.

She’s moving like a marionette controlled by an amateur puppeteer.

I throw my molotov behind her. The ceramic shatters, and fire springs to life. Gomer made an excellent concoction, there’s little splash and the gel stays more or less where I threw it. The flames lick upwards, reaching two feet in height, enough to block the hall.

I expected the devil to wince, but it completely ignored the sudden appearance of flames behind it and limped another step towards me.

My heart is pounding like crazy, and I swallow a lump.

I can do this.

Assuring myself one last time, I jump at the monster straight out of Neverending Evil.