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CHAPTER 36: SHIT HAPPENS

[ Narrator ]

“I want my ELRIC!!”

The God of Chaos flung a panda in the path of the giant fireball heading for him. The dichromatic animal intercepted the titanic orb of plasma and instantly turned extra-crispy, leaving this cruel world on the last cry “Bambooooooooo!!”

Those fat bears truly were addicted to that stuff.

“Where did you hide him?!”

“Look, sweetie, calm down. We can talk this through!” In the appearance of a thirty-year-old man in a cardigan, the mighty Entropy Personified tried to appease the furious young woman who was currently wreaking havoc in his realm. “Ah! Not my tea warehouse!!” He only had time to duck behind a rock before the building blew up in a blaze. Crouching, he glared at something floating before him which only he could see. “Toby! Do something! She listens to you!”

From seemingly nowhere, an indifferent androgynous voice answered, “She’s your daughter.”

“She’s your daughter as well, you filthy self-righteous hypocrite! Don’t put this on me.”

“You’re the one who stole her champion.”

“Oh, come on! Give me some slack. I’m trying to save the world here! He was the best candidate. He should have been my champion in the first place!”

“And as usual, your methods lack any form of tack or foresight. Therefore, you deal with the consequences. Don’t call again. I’m busy. And don’t be late for dinner. We have a meeting with Kevin afterwards at eight thirty.” The communication abruptly cut off.

“Alright, love~ …WAIT!! Did he just hang up on me?! That scolopendra!” Chaos was fuming… literally. “Does something smell burnt?” He spied embers falling from his scalp. “Oh blimey!”

“Give back my Elric!!”

“Oh, you brat.” Veins pulsing on his wide forehead, a Shaolin monk, with a top hat covering his very bald scalp, stood up from behind his rock. He pointed a stern finger at the fiery woman hovering a mile above ground. “You better take another tone with me, young lady! I am your father! And I demand respe—”

“AaaaaaaiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIH!!” In the blink of an eye, thousands of flaming orbs materialised in the sky. “WHERE IS HE?!!” With an angry gesture from the woman, every single one of them descended upon Chaos, whose eyes widened comically, and he turned into a chicken, uselessly flapping his wings trying to fly away.

“MOOOOOOOOH!!”

From mooing chicken, he soon turned into a kebab.

* * *

As the vision of the ravaged battlefield fades away, I wake up with the mother of all headaches pulsing between my temples.

Holy fuck, that hurts.

“How are you feeling, youngling?”

Like someone took a hammer to my skull, thank you very much.

Ain’t that fucking obvious? Who is that anyway?

Good question.

I open my eyes and sit up, holding my aching forehead.

Bloody fucking hell shit in a beaker with nitro-glycerine.

I think we get the idea. You can stop now.

Through my squinted eyelids, I see that I’m still at the foot of the statue of the old man, precisely where I fainted. I guess that means not much time passed. I’d like to believe Thena wouldn’t just leave me unconscious on the floor for hours.

At the very least she would give me a lap pillow.

No, no. That last part was entirely your delusions.

“What did you do to her?!” Ah. I recognise this charming growl full of rage. How pleasant to the ear is the voice of my beloved.

I think you hit our head harder than I thought.

“I assure you, grverka, I did nothing to harm her. At the very least, not intentionally,” comes the soft and calm reply to Thena’s aggressive interrogation.

Eh. I think I know that voice.

But who’s ‘her’?

You.

Oh, yeah. Gotta get used to that if we’re to meet more people in the future.

“Gverka?” Thena’s voice is thick with mistrust, probably wondering if she’s just been subtly insulted.

I decide it’s time to join this conversation. “No. Grverka, with an ‘r’. It’s a High Orcish form of address that roughly translates to ‘warrior’. It's also extremely polite speech for an orc—more of an honorific title. High Orcish is a bit of a dead language, though, and was never widespread as far as I know, so it’s not surprising you haven’t heard of it.” I look at her—at her back to be exact. She stays entirely focused on the pale man standing a couple of steps away.

I turn to him as well. Like I just said, he’s pale—not sickly pale, more like bleach white—with long and silken raven black hair, and his eyes are a bright blood red, slightly glowing in the dark. He’s also tall, standing nearly a head taller than the already impressive Thena. I hadn’t realised exactly how tall he was in the vision I just had. “Markus Sangbleu, I presume?” I ask.

Thena twitches at my intervention, but the man only smiles kindly, revealing a pair of sharp fangs. Does it still qualify as a ‘kind’ smile when the smiler looks like he might take a bite of you? “I’m no more than a fragment of a soul, I’m afraid, a piece left behind to safeguard Markus’ legacy until a worthy successor appears.” He glances at Thena. “I apologise that my translation spell seems incomplete. Markus tried to account for future mutations of the language, but evidently, it’s not perfect.”

A soul? Or a part of one? He seems pretty solid to me.

Ambrose and the villagers were too.

Good point.

So, that makes him a… vampire ghost? A ghostpire? Or a vampire spirit?

Vampirit.

Sounds like a cleaning agent.

“Vicky, you know this guy?” Thena doesn’t look back, but I don’t need to see her face to know what she’s thinking. Her tone is plainly asking, “Why are you acquainted with so many strange dead people?”

I’m not!

They just find me!

Which means that, technically, you’re still acquainted with them.

…is it a good time to wallow in self-depreciation?

Probably not.

“No, no. It’s the first time I meet him,” I answer out loud. I shake my head as I stand up and dust myself. Blood dust, uh. Seriously, why can’t I just meet normal people for once? …Don’t answer. “But I know of him. Markus Sangbleu, the first vampire and original BloodSoul Mage, Second in Command of the Angel Queen’s Army and one of the Seven Sages of Eden.”

Hmmm… Can ghosts blush? Because this one really looks like he’s trying.

“And you know that, because?”

“I knew some from history books, and I just got a crash course in specific details.” I shift my attention to Markus’… soul shard? “Was that one of your memories I just saw? Did you need to be so forceful about it?”

Isn't your head’s encounter with the statue mostly to blame for the pain?

Nanananana! I’m not listening!

Confusion paints Markus’ shard’s stoic features. “This is strange. The memory should have been shared only if the enchantments recognised you as one of Markus’ descendant having awakened to your bloodline. The process should have been painless.”

Ah. I think I just figured out the problem.

Ya think?

Should we start running now?

“Unless…” The ancient vampiric soul frowns. Suddenly, he vanishes and reappears before me, completely disregarding Thena, who—caught off guard—is still facing the wrong way. I stumble back, but his cold fingers touch my forehead, feeling as if someone applied icicles to my scalp. I stiffen.

I suddenly realised this man is much, much more dangerous than Ambrose. Even as a mere fragment, his touch makes all of my warning bells ring at once.

And that’s a lot of warning bells.

Even the rape warning bell?

Especially that one.

Something freezing and liquid pours through me but recedes before I can try anything to stop it. The vampire ghost steps back as well. I crouch, holding my head in pain for the second time in a few minutes. Owowowowow… Brain freeze without even the satisfaction of eating ice-cream. This is horrible.

“I see…” The ghost holds his chin with a pained expression on his face and shakes his head. “That poor child, what did she do to herself?”

“From what I understand, the nature of your bloodline was forgotten in time.” I provide an answer to his question, which may have been rhetorical. “This princess here,” I tap the side of my head, “freaked people out badly when she suddenly transformed. One thing leading to another, her life ended in tragedy. Just before passing, she cast a curse on her killer, but without control over her magic, it went haywire. Ever since, the curse has been jumping from host to host, along with her soul. I’m only the latest recipient.”

In hindsight, it’s good that we had that conversation with Thena before now.

Err… Now that you mention it.

The pale ghost closes his eyes, seeming to take it all in. Eventually, he sighs. “So this is what happened. Thank you for your honest explanation.”

“I could be lying?” Probably not the best thing to ask, but I’m always baffled when complete strangers just take my word for anything.

Even you wouldn’t trust your own word so quickly.

Markus’ shard, however, only chuckles and opens his eyes with an indulgent look and a slightly smug smile, displaying his fangs. He slowly shakes long finger ended in a sharp black nail. “Lying to an expert Soul Mage—even a piece of one? I don’t think so, youngling. You don’t possess that kind of power yet.”

“Can you break the curse?” We both turn to Thena, who had spoken the question I didn’t want to ask.

To my semi-relief, Markus’ soul shard shakes his head with a sad expression. “Alas. I am but a sentinel. I have some of Markus’ memories of the war, and he left me with magic for defence and to identify his successor. However, I only possess a sliver of his knowledge. He didn’t want his secrets to fall into unworthy or ill-intended hands should someone breach the protections he set up.” His gaze wandered around the plaza turned open graveyard. “A valid concern, it would seem. May I inquire what happened here? I know it isn’t your doing. Even with your… irregular situation, a mere touch, free from outside compulsion, would have sufficed to trigger the first level of protections and awake me.”

Yeah. A mere touch.

Our head noticed.

“I’m not quite sure. We just arrived here ourselves.” I shrug. “The whole country is under a curse, though.” At this piece of news, the ghost frowns in concern. “The main culprit would be a lich by the name of Jafar Rasputin.”

I’m still not believing that fucking name.

Blame the author.

“This name does not appear in my memory, I’m afraid.” The vampire ghost shakes his head.

Mmmmh… I wonder. Ambrose only told me that the trio of Soul Mages, Sirius, Jafar, and his own ancestor and homonym had all studied under the same master. He didn’t mention the name, but I’ve suspected their mentor was precisely Markus Sangbleu.

It would make sense. He was one of the world’s most experienced Soul Mages, and we now know he came to Erwyn with his son.

Which would explain how his name became the royal family’s.

If Mordred married Sirius Erwyn’s daughter and became king…

Wouldn’t the man take the name of the royal bride then?

Well... Big Badass Vampire General says ‘please’?

Valid point.

Anyway, I thought I could get more input from this ghostly guardian, but apparently, his partial memories are too succinct.

“It’s too bad,” I sigh.

“I apologise.”

Our conversation is once again interrupted by a certain semi-orc. “This is all well and good, but need I remind you we don’t know whether whoever-whatever is responsible for this will be back? I personally have no intention of being still here if and when they do.” Arms crossed, shield against her side and feet tapping, Thena looks at the spirit with an impatient glare. The imposing image she projects is somewhat dampened by the puppy snoring on her shoulder. “I mean no disrespect, sir, but that legacy you’re guarding, are you going to give it to Victoria or not? If not, and if you have no more useful information to share, you’ll excuse us because we have somewhere we need to be. Don’t we?” This time, her glare is for me, and I smile awkwardly.

I thought the old spirit might feel offended by her bluntness—I mean, I am supposed to be the reckless one in this comedic duo—but he merely turns pensive. He looks me over again, his intense gaze piercing through me. I resist the urge to hide behind Thena. I’m really not that intimidated. It just feels good to hide behind her. But I don’t think it’d reflect well upon my strength of character in front of this ancient being. “This is a most unexpected situation, indeed. But I suppose you do fulfil the criteria. Moreover, you come in... trustworthy company.” His gaze flickers to Toto for the briefest instant.

Trustworthy? That smug prick of a dead dragon?

I… guess?

“In these circumstances, I’m ready to grant you Markus’ legacy,” my ears perk up, “under one condition,” my ears turn down. I have a bad past with old ghosts putting up conditions for things.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Also, I hadn’t noticed how expressive those pointed ears were.

“What condition?” Thena narrows her golden eyes at Markus’ soul shard.

I raise a tentative hand. “Err… Shouldn’t I be the one to negotiate this?”

“No.”

No.

Hey!

Markus’ shard chuckles, something like fondness and nostalgia in his blood red gaze. “I don’t believe this condition should be much trouble for you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Thena retorts flatly, arms still crossed.

Err… I don’t recall electing you spokesperson?

Though you can’t deny having her taking charge this way turns you on.

……ahem.

Hehehehe.

The ancient vampire spirit looks at me gravely. “You must swear upon your soul and upon your blood that you will try your hardest to save the soul of Markus’ descendant from her self-inflicted torment.”

*ting*

New Quest: [Save the Vampire Princess]

Background Once upon a time, there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort, which could only be broken by true love’s kiss… yaddi yadda yadda. You know the drill. You have discovered that this princess is the distant descendant of the First Progenitor of the Vampire Race, Markus Sangbleu. And now, yet another old spirit wants you to help that girl. In exchange, he offers to grant you the legacy initially meant for her.

Objective Find a way to free the real Victoria Sangbleu’s spirit from her self-inflicted torment.

Success Condition: Free Victoria’s spirit. Failure Condition: Victoria’s spirit is consumed and destroyed by the curse. Rewards: - Upon acceptance: First Progenitor Markus’ legacy.

- More unknown rewards may come upon completion.

Do you accept this quest? YES NO

I push the window aside and raise an eyebrow. “…that's it?” I can’t help but voice my scepticism. This hidden thing, the First Vampire’s legacy or whatnot, seems like a big deal. Aiding some girl who’s been squatting my head-space feels like a small prize in comparison.

“I already ascertained that you fulfil the other requirement set by Markus.”

“Such as?”

“That’s a secret.”

“You’re just being pointlessly mysterious!!” I throw my hands up.

“Vicky. Stop your tantrum and answer him.” I cast her Thena a pout, but she only stares back coldly. “Agree or refuse, that’s not my problem. His condition doesn’t affect me, so it’s your choice. But whatever you decide, do it fast.” I do my best to hide the twinge it causes to hear her so casually distance herself from me. I probably deserve it, but it hurts still.

I repress the need to look at her again. I focus on the dead vampire and shrug. “Sure. I’ll swear. I wasn’t planning on hosting the girl for the rest of my life anyway. I’d have looked for a way to break the curse anyway.”

Doesn’t mean we’d have used it.

No need to tell him that.

Markus’ soul shard smiles brightly. It’s honestly not reassuring in the least. Although, lies by omission seems to work just fine.

Partial truth. It’s the old elven trick. Never disappoints.

“Excellent! Now, extend your hand.” I comply his demand with a circumspect expression. Before I can react, his hand moves and sharp cold nails pierce my palm. I reflexively try to jerk back, but I find my body unresponsive to my brain’s orders. “Repeat after me.” His voice is now low, almost a whisper, and yet it echoes all around me, filled with an imperious power that makes me regret many of my life-choices of the very recent past—more accurately the past two minutes. “I swear upon my blood.” His nails are still embedded into my flesh, and that same sensation of liquid nitrogen flows once again under my skin. I want to shiver, but my whole body is petrified.

No point in trying to resist now, I guess. “…I swear upon my blood.” In fact, rather than the ghost’s adverse reaction, I’m more worried about the punishment Thena would enact upon my frail person should I delay this any longer. I can hear her foot tapping nervously on the ground, and I can almost physically feel her eyes boring holes into my back.

“And I swear upon my soul,” the ghost continues.

“And I swear upon my soul.”

“So hear my word, for it shall not be broken.”

“So hear my word, for it shall not be broken.”

How pompous.

Shut up. You’ll distract me. This isn’t the time to bite my tongue!

Especially with those fangs.

“Now say ‘I swear’ and recite our agreed condition.”

“Now—Oh. Err… I swear to try to save the soul of Markus’ descendant residing within me and to spare no effort in achieving that goal.”

Was that accordingly pompous?

You sounded magnificently haughty.

Aw, thank you.

I felt the cold liquid sensation coil and then disperse inside my body instead of leaving like the last time. Realising I could move again, I shiver and retrieve my hand, rubbing my shoulder to try and smoothen the goosebumps through the leather of my outfit.

*ting*

Quest [ Save the Vampire Princess ] accepted!

*ting*

New Class Skill: Oath of Blood and Spirit  Active Beginner 1 Binds you to your own word with extremely horrifying consequence should you break it. Witnesses to the oath will feel the truth and honesty in your promise echo in their own souls and believe you absolutely.

…extremely horrifying?!?!?! Wasn’t ‘horrifying’ explicit enough on its own?!

Pfffft-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Oh, shut it.

I can’t help it. Your expression is hilarious.

You’re such a bad conscience.

That’s because I’m not. I’m a sub-conscience. So, of course, I’m sub-moral.

And your humour is sub-par.

……I’ll give you that one.

Niark niark.

I finish rubbing the numbness off my arm and glare at Markus’ shard, feeling wronged. I’m met back with a contented smile with only the slightest hint of smug in it. My glare becomes a pout. Difficult to stay mad at someone who looks like he just achieved inner peace.

“Thank you, younglings. Here is your promised award.” He gestures towards the statue. I’m about to ask what exactly I’m supposed to look at, but the sound of stone scraping against stone stops me. Before my eyes, the pedestal starts opening, piece by piece, like a weighty and very complex combination puzzle—or maybe a mini prehistorical Transformer. Tight-fitted runes cover each pivoting part, written in tiny characters as if by an erudite fly. I involuntarily gulp at the complexity of this formation. The world is indeed vast.

When the last section of rock falls into place, the pedestal has reshaped itself in the form of a three-pronged clamp attached to three pillars also still supporting the statue of the old man—who is still praying.

Obviously. It’s a statue.

I don’t know. I think even a piece of rock would feel bothered by its platform for thousands of years suddenly reshaping itself.

You overthink too much.

Do I? I don’t overthink so.

Held by the three-pronged clamp is a stone orb, the size of a cantaloupe, also covered in runes.

“This orb is key to all of Markus’ secrets.” The spirit sentinel speaks again, his voice sounding more distant than before. I turn around and discover he’s turned way more translucent in the minute I’ve looked away, finally looking like a proper ghost. He smiles. “My purpose has been fulfilled. Farewell.”

“Ghaaaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah!!”

At that moment, as if it’d been waiting for its cue, a bone-chilling shriek splits the air. The earth rumbles and shakes under our feet. I stumble and nearly fall, but a solid hand catches my arm and steadies me. I glance up, but Thena isn’t looking at me. Her stare is directed towards the entrance of the town. I follow her line of sight.

At first, I see nothing, then a building near the gate topples, and a spray of black ooze splashes upwards as if a tidal wave had crashed against a rock—except that rock lost and crumbled.

Aw, shit.

I wouldn’t have said it better myself.

“From Kabaneth…?” The murmured words snap me out of my daze. I spin towards the ghost, who is now barely more than a faint coloured blur. You wouldn’t notice him if you didn’t already know he was there.

“Markus!” I don’t see him acknowledge my shout so I can only assume his attention is on me. “Teleport. Where?!” For a second, I fear he either didn’t hear me or already was too far gone, but a hand becomes visible for the briefest instant, pointing towards a spot in the wall of corpses. “Thanks mate!”

I receive no answer. He’s gone.

I meet Thena’s gaze and point in that same direction. “That way. I’ll explain later.” She only hesitates briefly, casting a glance towards the village entrance, where another house loudly collapses. She nods and starts running. I take off after her. “Toto, burn us an opening! We—Fudge! The orb!” I skid to a halt and am about to run back when Appleseed appears by my side. Where had that beast been hiding?

“Nnnnnnnnh!!” she attempts to bleat around the orb she’s holding in her mouth.

“Good goat!” I snatch the orb and throw it in my inventory as I leap on her back. “Follow that semi-orc! And as soon as we get a break, I’ll give you a whole bucket of apples!”

“Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!” She doesn’t need to be told twice. I can’t tell which of the reward or the danger is motivating her the most.

We reach Thena and Toto as the latter already has used a focused burst of Soulfire to burn away a layer of stacked corpses. Saturated as they are with dark magic, the bodies burn like dried leaves. Thena’s earlier discomfort seemingly overridden by adrenaline, she is ripping off burning remains to widen the opening. In no time, an engraved slab of stone appears behind the wall of flesh. It’s just some decorative bas-relief, without any magical properties to it.

I don’t do in subtlety. I jerk my head at Thena. “Smash it.” She too doesn’t need a repeat. She kicks the wall, visibly putting all her strength behind the hit. Her foot perforates what turns out to be a relatively thin sheet of rock covering a brick wall. Neither resists the semi-orc’s brutal ram. Another two more kicks finish the job of uncovering the passage that had remained sealed for gods know how long.

I get off my hircine steed and slip in first. Thena doesn’t protest as she keeps a watchful look at the approaching… something. I can’t see its advance anymore, but I hear the ruckus it’s making. And it’s getting much too close for comfort. After Appleseed has followed in, with Toto on her back, Thena steps in as well, pulling the pile of corpses down as she passes and forming a makeshift barrier of dead bodies.

I love how practical she gets when she’s in action mode.

“Be careful of the stairs.” I start the climb down.

It’s pitch black inside the passage, and very dusty, but darkness bothers none in our group—although Appleseed sneezes. I’ve given up trying to understand undead goat physiology. Her hooves also don’t seem to hinder her handling… or hoofling(?)… of stairs. We walk down in a single line.

“How did you know about this place?” Now that there’s nothing more to do about the immediate threat, it seems Thena cannot hold her question longer.

“I didn’t. It was more of a reasonable guess. You’ve seen the old map. Do you remember the blue lines?” She grunts affirmatively. “Those are ley lines. Teleport circles use them as highways. And there’s a big knot of them just underneath this place. Given how old this city is—or at least its wall—and barring that any massive tectonic displacement occurred in the past five thousand years or so, there was an eighty percent chance of finding a teleport station somewhere in this city. …I just hope it’s still functional.” I mumble the last sentence too low for anyone else to ear.

“I thought the Temple created the teleportation circles?”

I can’t repress a snort. “Hah! The Temple! Those guys wouldn’t know their way into the runic equivalent of a child’s spelling book. Create teleportation circles? No. They just found them first and somehow managed to find a way to activate them. Nowadays, the Transport Guild is slowly buying the rights for them, but the Temple still controls most of them. On the plus side, it does mean those stations are well-maintained. They’re the Temple of Order, after all. They like to keep things tidy. On the less fun side, it also means the Temple has a chokehold on many of the world’s travel ways. They can’t do whatever they want, of course. It’s all a political mess I wouldn’t touch with a forty-mile pole. But still, it makes it complicated for people with… certain reputations to travel freely.”

Bloody prejudiced pricks.

We did demolish their headquarters once.

They bloody well deserved it.

Not arguing that point.

Assassinating the head of their secret police was fun too.

Assassinating? That guy drank the experimental poison all on his own. Who told him not to check the cup I’d offered him?

Secret police, my ass.

Further discussion about the wonderful world of travel bans set up by self-serving religious organisations is put on hold when we reach the bottom of the stairs. The path widens into a vast open space, and my [Dark Vision] isn’t enough to see all of it with only the natural glow of my eyes. I mumble my way through an incantation, and a small blue flame with specks of red appears above my open palm.

“Let me risk a little more light...” I lift my hand up to spread the light and turn the intensity up a bit. “Behold… some crumbling ruin. Well, it’s no Great Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf, but at least it shouldn’t be infested with goblins.”

“What?”

“No, no, don’t mind me.”

Kids these days...

Have the great classics been forgotten?

The bluish glow reveals a wide circular hall, constructed around a central round platform covered in runes. Not Edenic Soul Runes, but much more common Proto-Pandorian you can find about everywhere on the continent. I step closer and examine the circles. “Drat.”

“What?” Thena comes up next to me.

“It’s not working, but…” I look around. “I recognise the setup. The damage isn’t too important. It should hold for another use. If I could just power it. Hmmm… There should be a connection… there.” I pivot and walk resolutely towards a wall, following a faint line carved in the ground and moving away from the central platform. Reaching the wall, I feel it for any asperity. My finger hits something. I slip a nail through a narrow crack, too straight to be natural. “Yep. It’s there.”

Opening my inventory, I take out a crowbar.

“Err… Vicky?”

I ignore her and stick the piece of metal inside the interstice I just found. I step away and look back. “Thena, if you could, please?” I ask, gesturing for the crowbar. She throws me a sceptical glance but pushes on the bar anyway. With a slight crack, a chunk of stone pops out of the wall, revealing more runes.

Unlike the platform, however, here, one portion of the runes are faintly glowing, while the other looks as inert as the rest of the runic writings in the room. “Bingo.” Between the two portions, a symmetrical hole marks the emplacement of the piece that should be linking the the two. Something of a safety device, I believe. “Alrighty~. Now, it’s like a fuse. You just need to set up a bypass, et voila!”

Thena frowns. “Vicky, I’m not sure…” A muffled tremor causes dust to rain from the ceiling. She sighs, annoyed. “But we don’t have much of a choice now that you lead us in this death trap.”

“Hey—!” I start, then I shrug. She’s right. I said this was a way out, and she trusted me. So now it’s my role to deliver on those words. “Don’t worry, big girl. It’s going to be just fine!” For some strange reason, she doesn’t seem convinced, but I decide to ignore her. She’ll see the light soon enough.

I pull a pair of thick aviator goggles from my inventory and put them on after adjusting the straps to my new smaller head. I also take out a tool which, to the trained eye, might look suspiciously like a poor excuse for a steampunk plasma cutter made out of metal scraps covered in pulsing runic writings.

“Vicky…”

“Don’t worry. Don’t worry. Just… you might want to step back a bit.” I don’t wait for her reaction to flick a switch on the device. The runes start pulsing exponentially faster as a deafening hum fills the room. More dust falls from the ceiling, but that has nothing to do with me… probably. A crackling magic arc suddenly erupts from the buzzing device. By habit, I tilt my head out of the path of the discharge, and it hits the wall across the room, leaving a charred black mark.

“Vicky…”

“It’s fine! It’s fine. Hahaha… It’s just sort of a prototype. I made it to work on traps in dungeons. You just need to know how to handle it. Okay. I’m starting. Close your eyes.” I press the trigger and a concentrated burst of energy and overheated particles fires from the muzzle of the cutter, striking the stone with a sizzling hiss. The small enchant in my goggles instantly adjust their opacity so I’m not blinded and can see what I’m doing, but a loud curse from behind tells me Thena was too slow in heeding my warning.

In a matter of seconds, I’ve carved a new path between the active portion of the runes and the inert part. This baby also directly applies a coating of a mana-conductive paste of my own making inside the carving. The fluid is melted inside the device, carried by the ray, and it solidifies as soon as the temperature falls under its boiling point. Quite a little wonder, if I may say so myself. A shame that it’s so expensive to make.

The two parts connected, with a small flash, the whole room lights up in runes. I shut off my [Rune Carver v7]—don’t ask what happened to the previous six models. A soft hum remains, but it’s coming from the activated teleportation circle. Victory! I nod in satisfaction and stores my tools back in my inventory before turning to the rest of my companions with a proud “Tadah!”

Thena looks up from her crouching position behind her shield. Appleseed and Toto look up from behind Thena.

I meet the triple glare with a surprised expression. “What? It worked.”

The semi-orc stands up. “Remind me to beat you after we get away from here.”

“What? Why?! What did I do?” I watch her walk past me to the circle. Toto and Appleseed follow her, the former snorting at me as they pass. Even Appleseed looks at me with distrust.

What? I mean, what?

…eh, whatever.

After a beat, I fall into step, throwing my hands in irritation. “My genius is wholly underappreciated in this team! Do you have any idea how hard it was to make that thing?”

“No,” Thena answers flatly without an ounce of shame or remorse. My arms, head and shoulders drop. Thena keeps her eyes aimed at the glowing circle. I shake my head and move a bit further.

“Will this take us back to Start City?”

“Well not to Start directly. I know of a working abandoned circle a few miles from the city. I’d rather not appear directly in the Temple-controlled station,” I answer from a control panel carved into a small podium next to the circle. After entering the coordinates for our destination, I look up and meet Thena’s gaze.

At her puzzled expression, I stare deadpan at her, open my mouth and points with both hands at each of my fangs. “…oh.” She has the decency to blush at her stupid question. It’s a cute look on her, so I’ll forgive her.

I confidently step onto the glowing runes. “Come on. We don’t have an operator, so I set the teleportation on a timer. You have ten more seconds before I leave you behind.”

Nine, now.

*CRACK-RUMBLE*

I don’t know if my words or the noise of something loudly breaking into the passage above, but Thena literally jumps onto the circle. I’d like to believe it’s the former.

Still that head injury.

…...

Eight.

Appleseed and Toto jump in turn.

Seven.

Wet sounds are coming from the staircase, along with a loud plaintive aggressive wheeze.

Six.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

“Su~re.”

Five.

“Unless I messed up with the calculations.”

“What?!”

Four.

“Don’t worry. Don’t worry. It’ll be fi~ne.” I smile brightly at her.

For some reason, she pales.

What? What did I say?

I mean, what could possibly go wrong when bypassing a safety device in a derelict runic formation channelling enormous amounts of power to convert matter to energy and send it over hundreds of miles in an instant?

…mmmmh…

At that moment, a black slimy thing bursts out of the entrance tunnel and lunges at us, vaguely humanoid arms stretching out from the bubbling mass in our direction.

“Nope. Nothing… Well, unless—”

Three.

*BUZZZZZZZZZZZ*

We disappear in a flash.

…uh. Where are my last two seconds?

* * *

[ Narrator ]

The black ooze of shadows washed over the teleportation circle, missing our heroes by a second, and splattered on the opposite wall. A hateful cry made the room shiver, and more dust again dropped from the ceiling.

The viscous miasma ragefully whirled inside the room and slowly condensed into Faceless’ usual form, the black monk robe materialising to hide the not-quite-human appearance. The clothed elemental collapsed in the middle of the now dully glowing circle and struck the floor with two long sleeves, howling in anger.

“UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU—”

*tzing*

“…uh?”

The shadow being looked up, just in time to see, somewhere on the wall a distance away from the circle, inside a weird, slightly-charred little hole that probably shouldn’t be there, something flicker and frizzle briefly.

“……uh?”

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

That day, Cali and everything in a five miles radius disappeared in a sudden and unexpected malfunction of some ancient ruin.

How did such a thing happen?

Nobody knows.

* * * * *