How to Tame Your Princess: Book 2
So It Begins!?
…but does it? Really? I mean, seriously.
[https://i.imgur.com/nAsnLkn.gif]
PROLOGUE: EVERYONE IS GETTING READY FOR THE PARTY!
[ SOME RANDOM GUY NAMED JERRY ]
Phoenix Fortress, on the eastern border of Wesen, the Beast Kingdom…
*BOOM*
Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it is–!!
The eight-hundred-pound, seven-foot-tall, full-plated, level 102 gorilla cannonballed upside-down out the breached castle wall and over Jerry’s head to crash violently into a bloody and lifeless heap several yards back through the ranks of the besiegers.
It was at this moment that the young, level 57 rogue wondered if maaaaaaybe he was out of his depth.
Oh, crap. Jerry’s Adam’s apple hopped up and down in his throat, which was suddenly very dry. Chaos continued to unfold around him. The death of the simian tank had caused barely a ripple in the fighting. Jerry himself could only glance at the beastman before a stray fireball forced him to dive for cover, and he rolled behind one of the broken pieces of masonry dotting the castle moat turned gruesome mosh pit.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Jerry’s entire body was shaking: his shoulders, his hands, his feet, his teeth, his clenched butt-cheeks… Fifty-seven had seemed like a decently high level among the general player populace. Now, the rogue felt wholly inadequate, surrounded by some of the most battle-hardened veterans of Untold Tales. Battle-hardened?! More like battle-crazy! Those people are all crazy! Maniacs! Crazy maniacs!! Jerry screamed in his mind as he watched a red-moustached, shirtless and bald Viking head-butt a large rock thrown from atop the wall and then keep running into the melee with a loud belly laugh despite his forehead scattering red droplets everywhere. Maniacs!!
Jerry didn’t even want to be here. His (soon-to-be-former) friend Brad was the one who dragged him into joining Horizon. Jerry should have never followed the fool into this den of lunatics! The fact both the Guild Master and Vice-Master famously associated with the infamous Elric Walker, The Reckless Imbecile, should have been an immediate red flag!! A whole bunting of red flags! To cordon off the area and keep Jerry away!!
In a small segment of his terrorised mind not focused on immediate survival, Jerry was busy plotting his revenge on Brad…
The idiot’s corpse had to be somewhere nearby.
In fact… Weren’t those Brad’s armoured boots sticking out from under that fallen merlon over there? He did die!! The effing bastard! I’ll loot him down to his socks! That’ll teach him not to have bright ideas like these. Intent on enacting his (petty) vengeance, the rogue took a stealthy step out of cover—only for a scaly corpse to crash heavily right in front of his foot.
“Eeep!!” Jerry jumped back, letting out a very unmanly squeal he would deny to his grave if anyone ever brought it up.
Glancing around to see if anyone had spotted him, he paused. A frown wrinkled his brows. He squared his shoulders. Get a grip, man! I’m not afraid!! I’ll show them! Jeremiad Illrobyu is no chicken! I am–
*wooosh*
A spell shaved off half of his cover… and a good chunk of his hair. “Cheeeeeeep!” Jerry scampered for another broken piece of wall. Alright!! I’m scared! I’m scared!! Why did I ever agree to thiiiiis?!
This battle was a downright mess from the very start. The assumed goal was to take back a small fortified castle held by a gang of orc bandits, and plans had been hatched to that effect.
However, any semblance of tactics was abandoned moments after the initial assault, when a huge [Swamp Troll]—tall, fat, ugly, pimply, hulking and smelly, greasy, drooling and spitting, with a massive– well, a [Swamp Troll]… had jumped down from the high rampart of the fortress started wreaking havoc in the guild’s ranks.
Apparently, Horizon wasn’t prepared for a giant surprise troll.
…
Though, to be fair, most people aren’t.
Despite everything, Jerry had believed things might have returned to order… eventually… as the experienced battle guild that was Horizon responded adequately to this unexpected threat.
How naïve he’d been!
Response, there was.
Order… not so much.
Suddenly, Horizon’s Vice-Master, “Mad Bear” Winnie, had surged forth out of nowhere—a notable feat when one is a giant anthropomorphic black-furred killing machine. Roaring and coat bristling, she had kicked the troll monster back into the fortress through—yes, THROUGH—eight-feet of a stone wall.
The wall hadn’t taken it well. A large portion of it had collapsed, crushing several overeager new recruits—that moron Brad included, likely—and transforming the well-prepared siege into an instant senseless brawl as the assailants were suddenly brought in contact with the stunned defenders much earlier than anticipated.
Jerry’s mind was still reeling from disbelieve. Who does that to a troll?! It’s a troll. A TROLL!! A troll, you know?! You’re not supposed to throw trolls!!! Trolls throw you, not the contrary! What is wrong with that woman?? Throwing trolls? This is trolling! Madness. This is all madness. Utter madness. I don’t belong here. I am a sane person!
Just you wait, Brad. Just. You. Wait. As soon as you respawn, I’ll kill you myself!!
As one might expect, once the troll was wrestled through the wall and a horde of cheering battle-maniacs poured into the breach like a Black Friday at Walmart, logic was abandoned and left for dead. Now, fighting was occurring everywhere Jerry could see, without obvious rhyme or reason, and lethal danger was ubiquitous. The Horizon veterans seemed to be getting off on it, but Jerry didn’t like it.
He didn’t like it at all!
Even disregarding the ten-foot [Swamp Troll]—and you really shouldn’t do that, for your own safety—the [Bearserker] fiercely ripping it to shreds also formed a significant hazard!? In her effort to dismember her opponent, the half-a-ton bloodthirsty beastwoman wasn’t paying any attention to collateral damage. Everything about this situation was terrible—even the pun!
Especially the pun, thought Jeremiad Illrobyu.
Proof of the danger: even veteran players gave the brawling pair a wide breadth. From the relative safety of his hiding spot, Jerry witnessed Mad Bear Winnie rip off the arms of the troll for the fourth time. True to its species, the nigh-immortal monster kept regenerating its limbs at an insane pace. Dark red blood already soaked the Vice-Master’s fur, and her eyes were wild and bottomless pools of fury. Her roars were rattling the rogue’s eardrums.
“GAH! WILL. YOU. FREAKIN’. DIE!!! DIE ALREADY!! DIE!! DIE!! DIE!!! RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!”
“Eeeek!!” Jerry ducked back behind his rocky shield. Why was he more afraid of his own ally than of the giant murderous enemy monster? How could this frightening brute of a woman be sibling with Horizon’s calm and suave Guild Master?
Although, the man himself was wrapped in some unsettling rumours.
Maniacs… all of them…
*CRACK*
A corpse bounced hard off the top of Jerry’s hiding place—an orc bandit with an arrow stuck between his eyed. The young rogue was reminded he really should move away from the melee if he wanted to stay alive. Hidden or not, he would get caught in an Area of Effect spell sooner or later. He’d built his character for stealth, and he wouldn’t survive a [Meteor Shower] to the face—even a small one. Under the cover of his [Camouflage] skill, he scuttled through the messy battleground, keeping his body lowered to avoid the magic and projectiles flying indiscriminately overhead.
Fresh corpses littered the red mud of the moat, most higher level than him. Jerry sidestepped around them without stopping—trying not to think of all the shiny, unattended, oh-so-lootable pieces of equipment he was missing on. Greed wasn’t worth the risk of getting on these madmen’s shit-list.
A glint caught his eye. Is that…? A ruby-red dagger in the limp hand of a dead blonde [Skirmisher] caught his eye. The short crystalline blade glowed with the faint inner light of a permanent enchant. Jerry’s steps slowed down. His eyes scanned the surrounding mayhem. No one would notice…
*shunk*
[ Piercing damage: –79HP ]
“OWWW!! Fuuuuu—”
It’s Karma, bitches! A voice seemed to shout in Jerry’s thoughts as a sharp pain exploded in his left knee. His leg lurched from under him. His nose abruptly met the ground. “Humph!!”
[ Blunt trauma: –9HP ]
Even muted by virtual reality, the pain of his perforated flesh tortured the rogue. Worst still, the arrow had broken his [Camouflage] skill effect. He now laid visible in the bloody mud, unable to stand and completely vulnerable in the middle of a chaotic battlefield of mad people and orc bandits.
He aptly summarised his situation.
I am so fucked.
Rolling onto his back lanced his leg with pain. He blinked away tears and the black dots in his sight.
Unfortunately, once his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was the face of a shouting orc.
Hunched and seemingly neckless, yet still twice as broad as a human and taller by half, the orc was a horrifying vision of brutal ugliness. Its beady eyes, porcine and stupid, glinted red with violence. Brownish sweat glistened on its dirty green face, a droplet hanging from each wart—and there were many, many of them. The prominent underbite of its maw was dropped in a loud bawl, uncovering rotten and uneven tusks. The stench of its breath washed over Jerry, along with a shower of lukewarm spittle.
The rogue’s eyes took in all of this in a flash before he shut them tightly, shrieking in terror.
His last thought before the orc’s mace turned his brain to mush was a curse for his (ex-)friend Brad.
Fuck you, Brad.
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
Jerry blinked.
I’m… not dead?
*ding*
[ +1 WIS ]
…why do I feel mocked?
A thin, furry black tail swung lazily in front of him, interrupting his thoughts. It caressed the tip of his nose. Jerry started to sneeze by reflex—before remembering that, unlike himself, his character wasn’t allergic to cats.
https://youtu.be/XU86ydQAg84
“Five against one defenceless man? T-t-t-t. Not that I expected any honour from a bunch of outlaws.” The chilled statement pulled Jerry out of his stupor. He looked up. A tall and lean feline man stood protectively over him, his pitch-black fur matching his sister’s.
Guild Master Daniel-San was clad in his usual trademark tight, sleeveless martial gi—black as his fur except for the white “Horizon” kanji on his back. The outfit didn’t have a single scratch on it—or even a wrinkle. You’d think the panther beastkin hadn’t fought yet, if not for the thick coating of blood along both his forearms.
Following Daniel-San’s disapproving stare, Jerry saw his would-be killer sprawled on the ground, dead along with four other orcs the rogue hadn’t noticed. All except one sported a matching hole on the left side of their chest. An arrow stuck out between the eyes of the last one.
A small shiver ran down the rogue’s spine.
He hadn’t even heard them die.
“Are you alright?” Daniel-San’s voice was a gentle purr as he knelt by the wounded rogue’s side. A kind smile curved his feline lips, and warmth shone in his slit-pupil, yellow eyes.
Jerry’s cheek flushed darkly, and his heart sped up. He wondered why. He wasn’t even a furry, or gay for that matter. But something was undeniably attractive about the Guild Master’s demeanour, his unassuming strength, his protectiveness, and his soothing voice.
Averting his gaze, suddenly embarrassed, Jerry nodded weakly towards his leg and grimaced. “I took an arrow in the knee.”
Daniel-San nodded understandingly. “Don’t worry, you can still be an adventurer.”
“…I don’t understand.”
“Me neither!” A bright cat-smile displayed sparkly white—and pointed—teeth. “Honestly, I have no idea what it means. It’s just something my friend tells me sometimes. His references are pretty dated. I’m happy when I catch one out of each seven he makes.”
That explanation only deepened the rogue’s confusion. But Daniel-San was already standing. “The fight’s almost over. A healer will arrive in a minute. No need to waste your potions. –Oh, there she is.”
Once again following the Guild Master’s gaze, Jerry spotted a little girl in a pink frilly goth dress skipping through the battlefield in their direction. Oversized golden twin-tails bobbed with each of her steps, and a giant lollipop, as big as her head, laid propped on her shoulder. Something resembling ground meat stuck to the side of the massive candy, slowly dripping to the ground.
Cookie Sugar was another big name of Horizon, but not one the rogue was very familiar with. With her white skin, almost too flawless, her rosy cheeks, and her immaculate appearance, the girl resembled a porcelain doll escaped from a horror B-movie. And the fact Untold Tales was only accessible to legal adults made this “little girl” even more suspicious. Jerry swallowed. He wanted nothing to do with this personage.
A lightning spell struck down from the top of the wall. The girl merely hopscotched aside, never looking at the attack nor the dead orc that toppled off the wall, killed by an arrow to the face.
She came to a stop next to the Guild Master. Her expression wrinkled to a strong pout. “Dan-eee! Why are there so many uglies left?! One of them almost scratched Cookie’s makeup! Look! Look!” Her manicured finger pointed insistently at a flawless cheek. “And now, Mr Pop-Pop is all dirty!” The bloody candy-mace in her hand waved through the air, accidentally hitting the side of a fallen piece of wall. The stone shattered. Dust, pebbles and blood droplets sprinkled Jerry’s face. He tried to swallow again, but his throat was too dry for that now.
“Yes, yes,” the Guild Master placated indulgently. He patted the girl’s head. The blood coating his hands mysteriously did not stick to her hair. Cookie preened under the attention. “You take care of him. I’ll go make sure the victory is secured–” *BOOM* A loud crash echoed in the distance. The earth shook under them. Daniel-San grimaced. “…and limit Winnie’s rampage.”
“Aye aye, Sir!” the little girl saluted.
*BOOM*
“Seriously…” the Guild Master muttered to himself, as his own shadow began creeping up his body. “What’s the point in liberating the fortress if we turn it into a ruin?” The shadow engulfed his head, and he sank into the ground, vanishing from sight.
“Now…” The little girl turned to smile at Jerry and let go of her giant lollipop, which started hovering by her side. “What seems to be the owie, Mr Monk?”
“M-Monk?! I’m a rogue!”
“Oh, sowie. Cookie didn’t want just to assume the tonsure was just a disastrous fashion choice.”
“The what?” Confused, Jerry touched his scalp, only to find a large patch of hair missing on top of it. Tears of rage and embarrassment beaded at the corner of his eyes. Brad, I’m so killing you as soon as you respawn! This is all your fault!
Lacing her pastel-gloved fingers, the pink girl loudly cracked her knuckles. “Okie-Dokie, Mr Not-Monk Baldy, let’s a-get a lookie at you.” Her high-pitched voice was so forcefully sweet it was giving Jerry cavities. He met the girl’s sparkly eyes, and fear shot up his spine.
He tried to crawl away. “No, no. I’m fine… I’ll use potions—ow!” A stab of pain in his leg stopped his attempted flight.
Cookie chastised him. “Aw. No, no, no. That’s no good. No good at all, Mr Baldy!”
I’m just a baldy now?!
“Don’t try to move. You’ll get the owie more biggie! Let Cookie take care of you.”
Get away from me, you weirdo!!!
Jerry tried again to get away. “No. I-It’s okay. I can–” Suddenly, something soft poked at his neck, and he lost all strength in his body. He collapsed limply on the ground. “Wuh… Wha’? Why… can’t… ‘ove…” Even his mouth seemed made of cotton.
“Bad boy. I told you to stop moving!” The girl waved her finger reprovingly at him. “Now let Cookie get to work!” She raised both her gloved hands and started wiggling her fingers like spastic worms.
“…op… ease… op…” Jerry tried to plead—but to no avail.
“Aww. Don’t worry. Cookie-chan is a real pro. Trust in meee.” She leant down towards Jerry. In the rogue’s eyes were reflected her obscenely wriggling fingers—along with his abject terror. He screamed, but the sound never crossed his lips.
It only echoed in the solitude of his powerless mind.
* * *
[ DANIEL-SAN HORIZON ]
Daniel-San stood atop a piece of the broken wall, watching his guildmates round-up and shackle the last surviving orc bandits. They would be handed over to the Wesian authorities for public execution. Beast King Leonheart took a very dim view of banditry within his country. He wanted to make an example, and Horizon wanted the bounties. Everyone won—except the bandits, of course.
The guild master’s eyes roamed over the fortress. It was somewhat… the worse for wear, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. Daniel-San could hardly believe he’d soon own a castle, an actual fortified castle– well, the guild would, the moment Old Leo handed over the deed. This was Horizon’s deal with the Beast King for taking out this particularly troublesome band of outlaws. Bet Nick would be green with envy. A rare smug smirk lifted the corner of Daniel-San’s feline mouth as he thought of his eccentric friend.
It didn’t last long. The grin quickly faded into a worried frown. Nick had been acting weird as of late—or, well… weird…er… in fact, ever since he’d been kidnapped from Daniel’s doorstep on little Hope’s birthday.
“Maybe…… nah.” Had it been anyone else, Dan might’ve blamed trauma. But not with Nick. No way. That lunatic would sooner traumatise his kidnappers! He could be quite scary when he put his heart to it.
Besides, everything had turned out just fine. Nick himself had told Dan’s sister it was all a misunderstanding.
The issue here was she’d needed to visit him to get that information. The idiot had “forgotten”—his word—to call them and reassure them he was alright, leaving them to their panic. Forgotten. If not for Hope having set up a GPS tracker on Nick’s phone, they might never have known he was back at his apartment!
...
This reminded Dan he needed to have a conversation with his baby sister.
However, that could wait. Right now, he was more preoccupied with his other sibling. Yasmin was still quite upset about the whole affair. Understandably so—but Daniel-San wished she would not take her feelings out on his castle!
He sighed. At least the tower’s intact. The panther-kin stared longingly at the tall spire jutting up at the centre of the fortress. Already, he was picturing the office he’d set up in the topmost room. He’d been becoming real fond of high places recently, maybe because he played a cat-man… or maybe because fewer people came to bother him when it meant climbing a cliff to find him.
Moving Horizon headquarters here from its current location would be a small challenge—but worth it. A defensible position to fall back to, right at the Frontier with the Untamed Wilderness, would be invaluable to a guild like theirs. Well, defensible… as soon as we fix the big hole Yasmin left in the wall. Daniel-San contemplated the broken fortifications, repressing another sigh. My poor fortress…
Time was of the essence too. As soon as the news spread, many would come to try and snatch this juicy prize from his paws! Horizon’s rivals and enemies wouldn’t stand them gaining such an advantage—not without a heck of a fight. Daniel-San didn’t care much for rankings, but some players got disturbingly competitive, and he expected many arduous battles before the situation settled down.
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Although… he’d be lying if he said the perspective of some Player vs Player action didn’t excite him. Fighting monsters was fun, but something about pinning his skills against another human mind brought a fang-filled grin to his face. He quickly smoothed his features before someone saw him. He was supposed to be the sensible sibling after all.
In any case, he’d have the earth mages working on the repairs as soon as the orcs and corpses were cleared out.
“Winnie-chan reeeeeeally let loose today, didn’t she?”
Daniel-San’s deadpan stare dropped to the little girl standing below him. He jumped down to her with feline elegance. “You still have blood on your lollipop.”
“Ara? Oh, golly…” Cookie shook the massive candy-mace—a gift from Nick—until all the blood, brain matter and fragments of bones flew off. “Better! Thanks, Dannie! You’re the bestest!”
“Any day.” He turned back to the broken wall and sighed. “She really did. Hopefully, she calmed down now.”
“Who calmed down?” A growl came from behind the pair as a vast bear-shaped shadow fell on them.
Literally drenched in blood, the black-furred beast-woman dropped cross-legged on the ground beside her guildmates, causing a small tremor. A red puddle started rapidly expanding around her. Winnie’s snout twisted in a pained grimace. “Ugh. Dammit. That dumbass must have broken at least half my bones. And I think a couple of my ribs pierced through places they shouldn’t have.”
Cookie shook her head. “Ribs aren’t supposed to pierce anywhere, silly billy!” She waved her mace in a burst of pink sparkles, and the equivalent of a bathtub full of water poured on Winnie’s head.
“Hack! –Cookie! The fuck was that for?!” Winnie coughed and sputtered. Her wet-furred glare would have left most people quivering, but the little healer merely rolled her eyes.
“Oh, boo-hoo. You’re a big girl. Stop whining! You big lump get no healing from Cookie while you’re smelling like a stinky, nasty, muddy slaughterhouse. So, be cleaned quietly!” With a wave of her candy, all the grimy water lifted off the sulking bear-woman, taking away the gore and splattering it in the dirt a few yards away.
Satisfied, Cookie released her magical mace-staff—which obediently floated at her side—skipped to Winnie, and started massaging her back with glowing fingers, earning painful grunts interspersed with relieved moans. “Ara, ara… That fugly really did a number on you, didn’t it? Though, to be fair, Winnie did rip it to itty-bitty bits too. And many, many times! So Cookie says you’re even.”
“And you broke my wall,” Daniel-San grumbled.
The bearskin scoffed. “Get over it, bro.”
“I will not!” He crossed his arms reproachfully. “We had a perfectly serviceable plan to avoid as much material damage as possible, but you had to set off the fight early with a [Blast] spell. Which mage did you coerce this time? Was Khahab Oumb’oum again? It was, wasn’t it?!” Winnie’s averted gaze was answer enough. Daniel-San’s pupils narrowed. “Wait until I get my claws on that… unreasonable pyromaniac,” he hissed dangerously. “And that wasn’t even enough, because, then, you threw trolls at my wall! Trolls! Effing trolls, Winnie!”
“Just one troll.” The bear-woman nonchalantly picked a scrap of… something fleshy from between her fangs with her clawed hands.
“You threw it!” Daniel-San snapped. Catching himself, he took a deep, calming breath. “Look, I get that you’re worried about Nick, but he’s a grown man. And you know him. He’ll be fine! We’ve talked about this. You need to learn to control your temper and not lash out at the first thing in sight.”
“……”
“Winnie?”
“You don’t get it,” she mumbled, not meeting his gaze.
Before his sister’s lack of remorse, Daniel-San cast his hands up in frustration. “Ahhh… Whatever.” At least she seems to have cooled off. He looked around. “Where’s Máforteru?”
“He’s ‘communing with the spirits’.” Cookie paused her treatment of Winnie’s wounds to make air quotations. Her cute nose twisted in ridicule.
“Now? Can’t he wait for the clean-up to be over?”
“If Maffie waited any longer, his pants would need clean-up.” The ‘little girl’ sniggered.
Winnie snorted. “That pervert.”
Daniel-San felt the beginning of a headache. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Never mind… Winnie. Once Cookie’s finished healing you, make sure your people know what to do, then we’re leaving.”
“What?! Already? Why?! There’s still–” She tried to stand up but quickly stopped to grab her side. “Owowowow.”
“Stay still, you big dummy! Cookie can’t heal you if you keep moving around!”
“We’re supposed to be at Princess Aurora’s birthday next week, and it takes at least three real days to the nearest teleportation gate,” Daniel-San explained.
His sister grimaced. “Do I need to come? You know I don’t like those stiff noble parties.”
“The queen herself invited us. I already confirmed we’d be two of the Four Winds to attend. Cookie has to stay here to coordinate the healers, and Maf to oversee the logistics.”
“I can handle the logistics!” Winnie offered. Both both other players levelled dispassionate stares at her. She huffed and looked away. “I hate you guys… Ugh! Whatever! But don’t expect me to dress all fancy.”
The consequences of the last time someone tried to put a dress on his sister popped up in Daniel’s mind, and he carefully repressed those memories once more. “I’ve prepared a new set of custom leather armour in advance. Nothing ‘fancy’, but the workmanship and enchantments are suitably impressive—and expensive—to serve as formal wear.” The bearskin didn’t look at him, but the twitch in her round ears betrayed her interest. Daniel-San took her grunt as agreement.
He clapped his hands. “Alright, that’s settled. We leave in two hours. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have orders to give. I’m still bothered by how well equipped and organised those bandits were. I’ll ask Sniffer and Julius to see if they can find any clue.” Without waiting for an answer, he sunk into his shadow, leaving the two to their healing.
. . .
During this whole exchange, none of the players spotted the three figures spying on them from different hiding spots. All three were gone before anyone could notice, slithering on wooden scales, hopping through the trees on sharp claws, and fading into the evening darkness.
* * *
[ ISABELLA STEWART ]
https://youtu.be/3k-BBZh9Mfs
Dusk Manor, north end of Start City…
Isabella stared at her master’s face that was so devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. It was a face you never expected to see outside of the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine, or art crafted by an old master as the representation of an angel of the night.
His hair was dripping wet and dishevelled as he’d just stepped out of the pool. His dazzling face was friendly and open, a slight smile dancing on his flawless red lip. Ever since she’d first met his gaze, Isabella lived with the constant threat of being distracted by the memory of his unbearable perfection, of his glorious, livid face appearing in her thoughts.
His alabaster skin, faintly flushed from his recent feast, literally sparkled, reflecting the countless candles that lit up the room, as if thousands of tiny diamonds were embedded in its surface.
He laid perfectly still in a chaise lounge on the low dais, his bathrobe open to display his sculpted, incandescent and immobile chest. A dozen beautiful women attended him, drying his moist hair and feeding him grapes dipped in fresh blood. His pale lavender eyelids were shut—although, of course, he didn’t sleep. He was akin to a perfect statue, carved in some unknown mystical stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal, precious like a million diamonds.
Though his bursts of anger still frightened her, Isabella always became tongue-tied before him, enthralled by his mere presence. Unable to bear his bewildering perfection any longer, she lowered her gaze, waiting to be addressed as she knelt at the feet of her Lord and Master.
At last, he spoke, his voice a low purr from the back of his throat.
“Your report, pet?”
“Yes, My Lord!” Isabella tried and failed to suppress her enthusiasm. Looking up, she saw his crooked smile, so achingly beautiful she lost herself in it for a heartbeat. She struggled to stop staring like an idiot and forced herself to focus on her report despite the distraction of his glistening pecs. “Ho-Horizon subdued the bandits with apparent ease, My Lord, and they have started moving into the castle.”
“Unsurprising,” Dusk Lord drawled nonchalantly, accepting a dripping grape from one of the serving girls. “Their defences?”
“Here, My Lord.” From her inventory, Isabella produced a rolled-up bundle of parchments. It contained detailed plans of the fortress and its surroundings, as well as prognostics for Horizon’s future infrastructures.
Isabella prided herself as the best scout in the Night Walkers guild. She highly doubted anyone else could have provided such accurate information—especially while simultaneously dodging the attention of Daniel-San’s dreadful Shadow Corps. Even with all her skill, the vampire had only managed so much by taking advantage of the chaos during the battle and the celebration afterwards. She’d retreated as soon as things started settling down.
She waited patiently as her Lord and Master perused her report, losing herself in the contemplation of the smooth alabaster skin of his throat, the marble contours of his chest, his perfect musculature no longer merely teased at but displayed boldly by his bathrobe slowly coming undone. He was too perfect, she realised with a piercing stab of despair. There was no way this godlike creature could be meant for her.
“Good.”
Isabella’s gaze snapped back to his face. She hoped he had not caught her daydreaming.
Deliberately, Dusk Lord put the documents aside and turned his gloriously intense eyes to her. Their colour shifted from black to ruby and back again. “Very good, indeed. You did more than well, my exquisite pet. You deserve a reward.” His voice was smouldering, and Isabella’s whole undead body warmed up at the mere sound of it. Hearing his words of praise, for an instant, she couldn’t remember how to breathe. He lifted a scintillating bare arm towards her, nonchalantly. “Come.”
Hesitantly, afraid that this moment would disappear like a mirage, too beautiful to be real—hesitantly, thus, the vampire scout stood and walked to her master. She knelt by the side of his chaise and reached out for his shimmering hand where it hung languidly within reach. Reverently, she stroked its back with one finger, finding the skin satin-smooth, cool as stone, and slightly damp.
When she looked up again, his eyes were open, watching her, a crooked and knowing grin upon his lips, stopping both her breath and her heart again. She couldn’t imagine how even an angel would be any more glorious. There was nothing about him upon which could be improved.
Bringing his hand to her lips, she kept their gaze locked, searching for his approval.
At his nod, her lips peeled back, baring twin pairs of sharp fangs. Her teeth pierced the skin of his wrist, and his cursed blood flowed down her throat. The thick, rich, heady flavour instantly flooded her senses. They became her entire world. Her master’s lascivious moan echoed her own but she was too far gone to notice—both of them were. Neither did she notice him pulling her up onto his lap, nor when, in the throes of ecstasy, he buried his fangs into her throat.
. . .
Too unnoticed went the two small creatures peering at the scene from their respective hiding places. One was peeking from within the pool a few feet away, a flat brown scalp and slit green eyes barely breaking the water surface. The other titled its feathered head down from the rafters.
When the duo of vampires, high on each other’s blood, started ripping their clothes off under the lustful gazes of Dusk Lord’s harem, both beasts discreetly left the room; one slithering through the drain; the other climbing through a badly condemned, broken chimney shaft.
* * *
[ TAKEO NIWATORI ]
https://youtu.be/miomuSGoPzI
Top-secret secret base secretly hidden somewhere secret…
Takeo sat meditating in the empty oriental courtyard, inside the fluttering shadow of a blooming sakura tree. The distant bustle of the city barely carried this deep inside the mansion. Birds chippered in the branches, accompanied by the rhythmic clacks of a bamboo fountain. Leaves and petals drifted lazily in the soft breeze. Blades of grass swayed. Takeo’s breaths matched the pulse of the wind.
I am one with the world. I am the flowing water. I am the placid earth. I am the patient tree. The universe exists within me as much as I exist within the universe. I am all. I am nothing. Worldly matters are nothing. The five-hundred-page report Manager Wong demanded for Monday that I haven’t yet started to work on is nothing... One, two, three, three days left… Maybe if I start it tomorrow. OH MY GOD!! I’LL NEVER FINISH IN TI–Ohmmmmmm. I am one with the cosmos…
The soft breeze carried leaves and petals across the courtyard.
“Ohmmmmm…”
…
A faint flutter was all that betrayed the arrival of the ninja chicken.
Clad in a black keigoki and a balaclava, the avian shinobi landed softly on the grass. The shishi-odoshi marked a beat before Takeo opened his eyes. Slanted black eyes met round orange ones through the holes of the chicken’s knitted mask.
Poultry and man stared at each other for a long while, silent understanding passing between them. Nothing broke the quiet but the chirping, the wind and the bamboo fountain.
Eventually, the man nodded. “You may go and have a rest. It is well deserved.”
The gallinaceous spy touched both wings together and dipped its head in a martial bow, then darted for the miniature Japanese temple standing in a corner of the courtyard.
The man closed his eyes again. His placid expression betrayed nothing of his irritated thoughts.
Wooden snakes? Wooden snakes?! Snakes! Made of wood! Hah! What next? Horses made of pineapples? Strawberry dolphins? Watermelon dinosaurs? Maybe wolves made out of sliced cucumbers?! THIS IS RIDICULOUS!!! I CAN’T STAND IT ANYMORE!! THIS GAME IS STU–Ohmmmmmmmm… Alright… breathe in… breathe out… Maybe I should listen to my nutritionist and add more fruit to my diet… Ohmmm… I am cool as a cucumber…
The breeze, birds and bamboo fountain accompanied his quiet meditation.
It’ll be fine. Two days’ more than enough. I’m not going to be fired… probably… OH GOD–Ohmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…
* * *
[ SEBASTIAN BUTLER ]
https://youtu.be/jpv2tMJJuz0
Top floor of the Renolds Tower, New York (real world)…
Sebastian walked into the room at a carefully measured pace, his back professionally rigid as always. He wore his usual three-piece black suit with epaulettes—impeccable to the last non-existent speck of dust—immaculate white gloves, perfectly straight French cuffs, and a symmetrical black tie. His subtly wrinkled chin was cleanly shaven. His waxed moustache twirled according to the golden ratio. His monocle was firmly in place.
He was a true-bred Butler, and proud of it.
This luxury suite occupied the topmost 123rd floor of the internationally famous Renolds Tower. A huge bay window made up an entire wall and offered a breath-taking view of the East Coast night sky, painted to the colours of the city lights like a man-made aurora borealis. Inside, the shadows of the muntins entrapped the dark room occupants in an immaterial cage. The only source of lighting within the suite was a monumental fish tank that housed a shoal of particularly ugly piranhas.
Quietly, Sebastian approached a large, high-backed armchair facing the windows.
“Young Master, a message from the twins.” Lowering the silver tray he held, the butler revealed a small folded note. A slender hand reached out from the confines of the chair to pick it up.
The hand belonged to a handsome young man, clad in a tight-fitting, classy, marine blue striped suit and sitting with all the elegance years of expensive etiquette lessons had imparted him.
Nothing was said while he read the message—the quiet only textured by brief sounds of rustling paper, a soft background of electro music, and the faint humming of the aquarium pump. Sebastian noted to have it replaced. Distractedly, the butler ran his white glove over the top of the armchair, checking for dust. There was none. Obviously.
“Ninja… chicken?” the young master eventually commented. Disbelief was quite apparent in his smooth, cultured voice.
“Yes, sir. So it would seem… May I add the twins were most upset at the loss of one of their invocations? A visit to the clinic might be in order.”
“Mmh. Yes. Arrange a flight for tomorrow.”
“Young Master, your schedule is full for the entire week.”
“Well, make some room then.” The young master raised an eyebrow at his butler. “What do I pay you for?”
Despite his perfectly stoic expression, a hint of mischievousness danced in the old man’s eyes. He readjusted his monocle. “Certainly, sir.” He was happy. As cavalier as his master made it sound, the lad all too rarely took time for himself. Sebastian worried overwork wasn’t doing any favour to his already twisted personality.
The young returned his attention to the note. “So it appears we are not the only ones keeping an eye out from the shadows.” An evil grin split his handsome face. “This is so much fun! Poultry spies. Who’d have thought of that?! I’m only surprised this happened at Dusk Lord’s residence and not close to Horizon’s forces. They’re the ones who are acquainted with that… what’s his name again? Eric Warner?”
“Elric Walker, young master. Elric. With an ‘L’ as in lobster.”
“Yes. Him.” He rubbed his chin. “Hmmm… I’d like some lobster. Arrange that. And gummy bears for dessert. With apple sauce.”
“On the lobster, sir?”
“No, on the gummy bears.”
“Of course. I’ll call the kitchen.” Sebastian fetched a phone from his pocket to type a quick message. For a second, his thumb became a blur over the screen while the rest of him stood perfectly still.
“Excellent. Still no news about his whereabouts?”
Sebastian glanced up. “The lobster, sir?”
“No, Emric with an L.”
“Of course. I’m afraid not, sir.”
“Oh, well, never mind.” He dropped the note back on the tray and sighed nonchalantly. “A shame the Scarlet Clan proved this useless.”
“A band of ruffians underserving of Young Master’s patronage.”
“Failure is a risk of any investment, Sebastian, like my father always says. It’s one of the few things that man is right about. And that is also why we don’t put all our eggs in the same basket. We still have other avenues developing nicely.”
“It is as Young Master says.”
“As I say, indeed.” In the far-off distance, the sky lit up with the first bolt of an incoming lightning storm. “Indeed…” The young man started laughing softly. With each flash of light, his laughter grew in intensity and more out of control.
The butler coughed once, loudly.
The laughter abruptly cut off.
An awkward silence followed.
“Sebastian.”
“Yes, young master?”
“I need a cat. A white Persian. This feels incomplete without it.”
“Of course. I will call the animal shelter this instant.” The butler didn’t miss a beat. “Although, if Young Master Renolds permits my impertinence…?”
“Yes?”
“Maybe Young Master would benefit for a more… human companionship.”
“……I have Daisy.”
Sebastian readjusted his monocle. “While Ms Hastings is certainly a pleasant young lady, and will no doubt make a very proper wife once your wedding is officialised, I do not believe business mails exactly count as companionship, sir.”
“Julius?”
“Out on his philandering travels elven months out of twelve. Your last correspondence was this most tasteless amateur film he sent seven weeks ago, and which Young Master insisted I did not delete.”
“…Aberford?”
“Young Master would sooner convince me he wants to bed a disease-ridden pig than spend time with that, pardon my French, utter twat.” Sebastian readjusted his monocle.
“……”
“……”
“I’m fine on my own, Sebastian.”
“With all due respect, you just spent two hours seated in front of the window, waiting for the storm so you could laugh evilly with lightning in the background… sir.”
“……”
“……”
Mechanically, the young man turned back to the window.
“…duly noted.”
Sebastian readjusted his monocle, smugly.
* * *
[ HIME RYUUMAMA ]
https://youtu.be/A4RGQYvRgMM
Mountain range in the Wilderness, north of the Firstland Kingdom and west of the Theocracy…
The lair of Hime’s brood was dry and scorching hot, just as she loved it. But her gaze was dull and lifeless as she stared at the snowstorm outside.
Her hooded eyes followed the path of a single, large snowflake. It drifted into her cave, twirling and fluttering. It moved through the air without a care in the world—until it burst into steam, sublimated by the invisible barrier that kept the cold out.
Lights and shadows danced distorted by the heat haze along the barrier. They danced like the souls of the damned, trapped in the fiery pits of Hell, writhing in agony. Hime could almost hear their screams, their pleas and curses intermingled, begging her for help and condemning her failures. She wanted to help, but she could not. She was trapped with them. And her flesh burned. It burned, and she screamed—she screamed herself raw, forever wrapped in the roars of the flames and the acrid stench of roasting bodies.
A strong but gentle tap on her side jerked her awake. She hadn’t noticed herself dozing off. Her gaze found the left eye of the massive crimson dragon she sat leaning against—a female, like all of her precious. Male dragons were too insufferably arrogant.
Hime scratched the brow ridge of the fearsome beast, who whined and pounded the floor like a happy dog. Her large anaconda-like tail swayed on the floor. “Thank you, beautiful.” Kougyoku had been Hime’s first. By now, the red dragon wasn’t her most powerful companion anymore, but she remained the most skilled and the most loyal. “I’m fine. I’m fine…”
Kougyoku’s heavy eyelid dropped close, and she rested her large head on the floor, blowing out a contented puff of smoke. A loving smile briefly fleeted on Hime’s lips.
She groaned and stretched. Exhaustion weighed on her mind—but she fled sleep. How long had she been online? Not long enough for the game safeties to kick her out, at least. Distractedly, she caressed her smooth right cheek.
Her hand dropped with a sigh from her. “God. I’m so… bored.”
It had been days since Hime beat into submission the [Dragon of Eternal Frost “Absolute Zero”]—a ridiculously grand name for what amounted to a powerful lesser ice dragon. The Dragon Priestess thought it might be time for her to go after actual sapient dragons instead of their lesser kin. She even already had a target in mind.
However, her brood wasn’t ready yet to face such a monster. Unlike a certain reckless kamikaze knight she knew, she wasn’t so reckless she’d rush in heedlessly. She and her dragons needed more training—if only to teach little Zero-chan how to integrate with their battle formations.
She heaved a sigh. She should be working on that, instead of wasting her time daydreaming. But she couldn’t muster the mood to move. Her last fight with her wife had left her drained—if silently enduring Paola’s shouting and sobbing could be called a “fight”. All she truly wanted at the moment was to curl in a ball and cry. But she lacked the energy to do even that.
Where’s that idiot when you need him? Elric Walker’s dumb face never failed to breathe some life into her. He was just inescapably infuriating, and casting the imbecile into an active volcano from dragonback was surprisingly cathartic in a lot of ways. Unfortunately, the man had gone MIA a while ago, and now Hime was left without her favourite punching bag.
Her head lolled to the side. She looked at a fiery birdcage blazing on the floor a stone’s throw away. Trapped inside was the small skeleton of a squirrel, who paced angrily on its bony hind legs. Despite a lack of any facial feature, it managed to look righteously pissed off. Even the green fire in its eye sockets exuded annoyance.
Hime went to crouch next to its magical prison. She poked the flames and composed her most predatory grin. “Hey, Squeakie. I’ll let you out, if you fight me squarely instead of trying to flee again. Deal?” The bony creature seemed to consider her words before nodding solemnly.
Hime stared it deadpan. “...You do realise I can see your crossed fingers through your ribcage, don’t you?”
“!?!?!”
From its startled expression of realisation—no, it had not.
Rolling her eyes, Hime turned to the black stallion sitting stiffly in a corner of the cave—and as far away from the dragon as physically possible. Its body looked made of solid smoke, which sometimes fluctuated to reveal black bones underneath. Gleaming embers replaced its eyes.
Unlike the squirrel, it was unrestrained save for its inability to wander outside. As an undead, ending frozen and spending the next eternity stuck in a block of ice was a very real possibility. And—again, unlike the defiant caged rodent—this equine monster didn’t seem keen on trying its luck. In fact, for how intimidating it appeared, Hime found it to be a bit of a coward.
Returning the dragon tamer’s gaze, the horse rose a hoof and shook it in front of its face in a very human gesture, as if to say, “No way. No way. I’m not fighting you, lady. I ain’t that stupid.”
Hime sighed. She could have just burned the two odd monsters to a crisp, but they weren’t much of a threat. And at least they provided some entertainment. She walked back to her spot against Kougyoku and returned to staring at the snow raging outside.
For a long while, nothing was heard but the howls of the storm.
.
.
.
*ting*
“Hm?”
Reminder You have 1 event coming up this week: Princess Aurora’s Coming-of-Age party
Oh, right. I did receive that invitation. Hime had completely forgotten about it since she hadn’t planned on attending. She was never one for social gatherings—and even less nowadays.
In the first place, she’d figured the Firstland royals only extended the invitation to her out of politeness. They technically owed her for ridding them of that [Ice Phoenix], even though she’d already greatly benefited from the spoils of that fight.
She was about to dismiss the notification, but she paused. Elric’s rather fond of the little princess, isn’t he? He’d let slip as much, one of the rare times they’d had a civil conversation in-between attempts at murdering each other. Knowing the reckless maniac, he’d find a way to invite himself to the party, regardless of what measures the shorty king put in place to keep him away from his daughter.
Hime’s luscious lips inched up into a faint sadistic smile. She rose to her feet and clapped once. The sound echoed abnormally inside the cave. “Girls! Mummy’s going out with Ruby-chan for a while. Behave yourselves!”
From the hidden depth of the cave system rose a chorus of lazy growls which could all roughly translate to “Whatever, Mum.” One cackled the equivalent of “Bring back something tasty!”
Hime huffed through her nose. “Brats.” Her gaze moved to the two undead. “And you’re coming with me. I ain’t coming back to find my brood turned into fucking zombies.”
“Squeak?”
“Huhuhh?”
…
Five minutes later, a large ruby-red flying reptile could be seen speeding between glaciers at breakneck speed. On her back sat a sexy miko and two undead discovering the joys of dragon-back riding.
“HUuuuuUUUUUuuuuUUUUUUUH!!!!”
“SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK!!!”
* * *
[ NARRATOR ]
https://youtu.be/-laiCZ2fr14
Forgotten ruin at the border between Firstland and Wesen…
Somewhere in a forgotten ruin at the border between First—wait, I already said that.
Well, there, inside a dark, dusty room buried by an ancient landslide, deep under the ground of a quiet forest, runic lines carved in the stone floor lit up the first time in a millennium.
The glow intensified gradually. Humming and the crackling of magical statics filled the stuffy air.
Until, with a bright flash, five sombre figures materialised inside the room.
One was clad in a dark monk robe. Unpractically long sleeves hung down their sides, and only vaporous darkness was visible inside their raised hood. This was, of course, Faceless the cursed shadow elemental, Right Hand… Legs… Eyes… and all-around flunky of the Great True Lich, Jafar Rasputin Judas Traitorus Backstabar—the transparently named.
Two of the other figures were hulking armoured skeletons. Each carried a massive claymore stained with suspicious brown splatters. They stood perfectly still—in this unsettling way only the dead could—awaiting orders.
The remaining pair looked like a duo of possessed rags piles equipped with long, bony black arms which ended in vicious scythe-like claws. Unlike the immobile skeletons, they flew and crawled all around the room akin to restless hounds searching for a scent.
Faceless was satisfied. It was always a gamble to use such ancient and unmaintained portals. Luckily, they had all survived the journey in one piece. As a [Higher Shadow Elemental], something like being dismembered and shredded across multiple adjacent dimensions was little more than a setback. However, returning to the Master and explain what had happened his two [Skeleton Punishers] and [Tracker Wraiths] would have been as embarrassing as it would have been painful. Like any competent necromancer, the Great True Lich did not need his victims to be corporeal to inflict upon them very imaginative tortures.
With a thought, an old map floated out of Faceless’ robes, held up by tendrils of darkness. The corrupted shadow being looked over the dried up parchment and focused on two spots marked with red crosses.
Next to one was marked [You are here, foolish servant!] and the other [Go there, imbecile!].
The elemental nodded, filled with noxious determination, and stored the map.
This time wouldn’t end in failure—this was a promise.
…but first…
Faceless looked around. The room appeared to have no obvious exit. And, considering the fragile ancient structure, blasting their way out wasn’t an option if the return trip was ever to happen.
“……"
This mission had only started, and already the most fearsome minions of the most powerful necromancer of his time were stuck.
In the words of the Enchantress Maleficent: “Oh, they're hopeless. A disgrace to the forces of evil!”
* * *
[ Chatbox ]
[ # area ]
[ # friends ]
[ # guild ]
[ # party ]
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Victoria Sangbleu Today at 5:00 AM
HEY!!! I’m not dead anymore! 😁 Are you in Start already? Want to meat somewhere?
*meet
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Victoria Sangbleu Today at 6:22 AM
Still not in the city?
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Victoria Sangbleu Today at 9:48 AM
Please, when you see this, reply. 🙏
Even if you don’t want to see me again, at least tell me ‘no’. I’ll understand. 😔
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Athena Pallas Today at 7:37 PM
Just got into the city.
Four-day walk my ASS!! …I’m fine with meeting. You still need to show me to that class reseter. Where do you want to meet? I won’t be able to log in for the next two days. I’m fine after that. You know the hours I can play. Just tell me the time and place.
I’m logging out now.
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Victoria Sangbleu Today at 7:38 PM
Ah, yeah. Right. That. 😒
Then… Heroes Fountain at 5:30 PM in three days.
See you there!
😃 😃 😃 😘
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Victoria Sangbleu Today at 7:50 PM
Eh. I guess you already logged out.
Right...
See you.
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[ |Message #friends ]
* * * * *