Fire

So much fire… and blood.

Crossbows had been aimed at them, and when Fayette had acted, she had acted in that instant of stunned confusion. That instant had ended, and the men had reacted. Fayette stared at the crossbow bolt lodged into her thigh.

It hurt.

She had been hit by more, but the [Maid Armour] had made the impacts glancing, and they had ricocheted away. She was still knocked down on to the floor.

Fayette pried herself off the floor, staggered to her feet, and felt a brief relief that her leg worked. Can’t remove the bolt—that’s bad. But I can fight with it. I can—

And then she felt the blistering heat searing against her face, and Mireille pushed her forward. The room—what was…?

A hole. There was a hole in the wall, where [Lord] Marcel had been and now the full moon shone from outside, light filtering through all the smoke. And fire was flying. Fayette ducked a fireball, but it still hit the wall behind her spreading.

A figure so bright she couldn’t look at it was slowly manifesting, like an ocean pouring in through the smallest possible hole. An ocean of pure heat and fire. But it was being… held back?

The fireballs stopped.

With a brief glance, Fayette counted the enemies. She remembered the room. In the middle wall was the hole—nobody alive there. No [Lord] or [Mages]. By the door was the second [Lord]—he felt high level. He had other fighters with him—[Knights] and a [Mage] of his own.

The other side of the room only had three men. And she was in the middle, her party was around her. An easy decision. Fayette spun to the less manned side and ran forward roaring.

A crossbow holding [Knight] tried to aim at her, but was blinded by the smoke in the room. Fayette prowled in like a wounded cat, laying low. She whipped her broom about like a tail, swishing a path through the smoke for her party.

A broom on the verge of shattering.

Then she jumped the man. No fancy technique—just fingers in the eyes, a kick off-balance, then a stomp to the head. She got her broom up as the Sword-wielding [Knight] turned on her, and used [Sweep Dust], sending smoke at his eyes. He didn’t flinch, protected by some skill, and the sword fell down. Fayette blocked with the metal end of her broom, and a crack spread over it.

Then her party arrived. A surgical knife on an unguarded back, and needles through a helmet’s eye guard. The man fell. The third man was downed with a syringe, down before he knew what happened. Fayette stepped back, letting Olivia and Mireille finish them off, and she took out a knife, turning. Her mind was moving fast, trying to find a path. The [Mage]—he’s doing something to the elemental—have to—

A gentle hand blocked her. “I can’t seal it, Fayette, we have to let him.”

The [Maid] blinked, calming down, breathing finally. She coughed and felt a jolt of pain in her leg. Breathing smoke is bad... need to—[Sweep Dust].

Her vision cleared, and she saw the other side of the room. The [Mage] by the door was holding up a clear gem at the elemental, which was now dwindling in size, sucked inside the gem. Three [Knights] in gleaming armor shielded him, two felt lower level and one high, and the [Lord] stood behind them all, eyes locked onto her. Fayette looked at the crossbow bolt in her leg. Shit, this hurts.

She let out her breath. “We have to let him have the elemental?” She turned to Marie. “Are you sure you can’t—”

The [Lady] shook her head. She whispered, speaking only to her. “I’m a [Lady], not a [Mage], so I don’t have their full capabilities. If we don’t let him bind it, it will be let loose, and do [Saints] know what… I can’t—”

This town was her town, these were her people, Fayette remembered. And now the [Lady] was attached to their mess. A pang in her heart. She hadn’t wanted this.

“Sorry,” she whispered, finally looking Marie in the eyes. “Should have told you—or something. Your family—”

“They can wait,” Marie said, holding up a hand. She pointed. The [Lord]. “Right now, we need to get out of this alive.”

Fayette sighed, and closed her eyes, focusing. Even with them closed, she could still make out the glow of the elemental—lessening. How long did she have? She had made this mess—she would fix it. She would make up for this.

The situation was bad. Their side of the room was on fire, and she could feel the heat of the fire gradually advancing, like creeping fingers grasping at her back. The [Lord] had the door. Smoke was gathering—she could sweep it away. There was a hole in the wall but jumping felt… risky. Would Marie make it? Could the [Lord] hit them in the back then?

She opened her eyes and stepped forward, finally meeting the [Lord’s] eyes. Negotiate. Maybe that would work?

“[Lord]!” she shouted, voice clear and curt—business mode. “I don’t know you or why you are here. Do we have to fight? Those other two are gone,” she finished, pointing at the hole. And the body with the crushed head.

The [Lord] did not move from behind his men, but he did speak. A calm voice she did not know, full of authority and experience. Not his first tense negotiation. “[Maid], I will admit, this was not what I expected to find. Someone meddled in my plot against [Lord] Castellani, so I had to see things through. That is all.”

Fayette frowned. A strange answer. She pointed at herself. “You were plotting against him? I was the one who killed him. Did I not do you a service? Let us go,” she held up a knife and shifted her gaze left. “I won’t interfere with your [Mage] if you agree.”

The [Mage] was sweating, gathering more and more energy into the gem he held. But his face spoke not of despair, but of rapture. A smile almost eerie, and so hungry. Fayette shivered and saw the [Lord] was nodding.

“It is true,” he said. “That man was my enemy. One could say you did a service to me by killing him.”

Then he stopped nodding and stared out, speaking coldly. “But I do not say that. It was not your place to interfere—There are sacred rules that are to be protected.” He raised up his sword and pointed it at her. “And servants who rise against their masters will be put down. That is a [Lord’s] duty.”

And then the [Mage] finished binding the elemental.

It was like a great bonfire being snuffed out in an instant, and the [Mage] shrieked in joy, holding up the gem, a roaring inferno trapped in a prism. The [Lord] nodded, then took a step forward, going to touch him at the back.

But the man flinched back from him and hissed, then threw a bolt of fire at the [lord].

“No! Don’t touch me! This is mine!” he shouted, eyes darting back and forth. The [Mage] backed up to the side from his allies, cradling the gem against his chest. He was shaking, overflowing with power, and the tattoos on his skin were flashing in a rush of color. “I have this now—you don’t matter. None of you do anymore.”

The [Lord’s] face was frozen, but he was gripping his sword tight. He tried to speak, but then the [Mage] threw an arm out, and bright symbols of white flashed, vanishing off his forearm.

Then the man leaped backward and flew out of the hole.

And Fayette started choking.

Not the smoke—suddenly there was no air to breathe. The [Lord] was shouting and gesturing, and Olivia and Mireille were gasping for breath too. What? There was nothing here—nothing to hit, Fayette threw a wild fan of forks into the room, but they hit nothing.

Marie was also flailing and chocking—no, wait, Fayette paused. The [Lady] was waving at her, indicating smoke and her eyes. Ah.

Fayette activated [Dustsense] and saw the emptiness.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

There were two of them, two gaps in the smoke and roiling ash, zones of calm amidst the storm, right in the middle of the room. Her mundane eyes saw nothing special there—except a subtle current?

She mentally cursed. Air elementals? What the hell?

Fayette pointed out their location, stomping in anger, but Marie just nodded calmly. Then the [Lady] kneeled and started drawing on the floor. With magic.

A simple line of something brown in the ground, with sharp, defined angles and thick lines, crisscrossing in a complex pattern. She drew a last finishing touch on the line, and then Fayette could breathe again.

Everyone was coughing, finally getting a breath in, and Fayette swept the approaching smoke back—it was getting too close. The fire was right at their backs, and the [Lord]—

He wasn’t choking. The man was still just staring at them, iron face calm. Seeing their recovery, he nodded once, then spoke fast. “I [Exert My Authority] on you, minor monsters. You were bound by my subject, so be banished.”

And the spots of emptiness vanished. Just like that. And the [Lord]—pointed a sword at Fayette. He stood in front of the door with his men like a barricade of iron and steel. And spoke.

“[You will Have to Go Through me].”

A flash of blue energy expanded from the tip of his sword, rapidly extending behind Fayette, outside of the room. She turned her head and saw it was outside too, beyond the hole in the manor. A glowing barrier with no holes, which enveloped the whole manor, with the [Lord] at its center.

And then it began shrinking.

Curses, I don’t like the look of this. A defense-class, forcing a fight. Fayette felt the flames at her back, tickling, sparks hitting her uniform. No more time for standoffs. She looked at her party, who shared grim nods with her, then felt something wet on her nape, and a boon appeared. She looked to the other side, and Marie nodded too.

Nothing more to it—if he wants a fight... She threw a fork at the [Lord] and charged, and her party followed.

The [Lord] blocked the fork with his sword, then nodded, satisfied at the charge. Then he started activating skills.

“[No Quarter Given], [Bounded Champion], [While I stand]—” and then he pointed at his knight who spoke a skill of his own, sending a rumble through the men.

“[Hold the Line].”

And then Fayette felt fury. She remembered that skill. That damned skill. One meant for soldiers, not servants, and seeing [Knights] finally using it properly…

Unfair.

Still, she ran forward, sweeping smoke in a wide arc while running right at the [Bounded Champion] who shone with red. The crossbow bolt in her leg burned, but her steps did not falter, and a broom swung at the man.

He just let it swing, not moving to block one bit. Useless, the broom clanged against his armor, he moved forward his own sword, and swung.

Fayette almost lost her hand.

Right at the last minute, she felt a step of Waltz in her feet, and bent backward, hearing Marie scream behind her. The sword flashed right by her front and Fayette fell back.

Her allies were not close combat fighters, really. Even Olivia—the [Doctor] fought best striking at the back. And this was an impenetrable line.

Fayette was facing it alone. A crossbow bolt in her leg.

Oh, her allies were throwing projectiles, needles, strings, and such, keeping most of the men occupied, but the damn line held. Nothing with so little momentum would do a thing.

So Fayette tried to fight forward with despair, fire literally at her back, throwing spice into eyes, jabbing with her broom, kicking, anything. She dodged back and forth, managing just because the men did not step to chase her and because a [Waltz] held her right foot up. And just for an instant, she managed it.

Against the big [Knight], who stood like an impenetrable wall, she threw a flask under him at the same time she battered the shield, and the giant of a man slipped. Fayette thrust her broom at his neck.

And the [Lord] spoke again.

“[I fight with their Strength]”, he rumbled, and stepped forward, just as strong as the [Champion Knight] himself. A surprise sword swept at her, and Fayette’s broom was cut in half, then her boon flashed, blocking a fatal strike. She looked at the sword inches from her face and saw cut-off strands of hair float down.

Fayette jumped back, only a [Waltz] still holding up her leg. She retreated back to the further wall and collapsed on the other side of the room, her party around her, all panting as exhausted as she. The air was running low. The Fire was so close. And the wall from the skill—

She looked and saw it starting to enclose the building, like a cocoon. A minute more, and it would be at her back.

And seeing their retreat, the [Lord] just nodded, as if checking something off a list. Now he stood among his men, no leader from the back. He did not advance; he was a holder of things. No retreat, keep the door. He would win with time. Fayette saw the coldness in his eyes.

Those eyes… they held not the contest of true battle or the rage of vengeance. It was something she knew too well—pest removal.

And she felt her rage cool, going cold as it once had. She stood back, panting, and her eyes no longer held hate. So that’s what this is. We’re on that level for him. So…

Why should she not do the same? She had been thinking too much like a [Combat Maid]. But it was a [Maid] who removed infestations. Getting drawn into talks, listening to their prattling on about ideology, condemning them… It didn’t matter.

She looked at them like she once looked at kobolds and [Thugs], not as humans—just something to be removed. Then things would be fixed. And she instantly felt herself calm, as if a missing piece was slotting into place.

And her class itched.

Damned [Lords]. No—not [Lords], not [Knigths], just—enemies. How do I remove them?

Fighting was a mistake, he was a [Lord] of battlefields. But he was staying in place, like a hive of bugs burrowed into the rot of this building. Fayette could almost imagine him standing like that, holding some key hill on a vital battle. How do you remove infestations? What do I have in this room?

She spoke as her eyes darted around, searching for anything she could use. “Anyone have any ideas? Now would be a good time.”

“I can maybe try to make more fire?” Olivia said, uncertain.

Marie shook her head. “Risky. But that man—he’s staking a lot on holding position. Skills like that can have backlash, like your capstone and mine. If you can get him to retreat one step, there will be serious backlash, and then—”

“We go for the kill,” Fayette finished. She stared at the [Lord], who was looking back calmly. A man who had built a strategy of impenetrable defense. His men surely were hand-selected for this, the optimal skills for holding out on all front.

But his [Mage] was gone. The key piece, missing. What did that mean? What part of his defense was gone with him? The [Mage’s] elementals were—Fayette gasped, breathing in some of the smog.

The air!

“Mireille, I need you to try and sneak some thread by,” she spoke, voice eerily calm, and the others shivered. “I need you to block off the door behind them. They want to stay? Fine—they can.”

“If they see it—” The [Seamstress] began, but Fayette pulled out her spare broom—no metal end.

“They won’t.”

Then she started using [Sweep Dust] and sent all the smoke in the room at the turtled in [Knights]. And there was a lot.

But it was just smoke. It roiled around the men for a moment, they coughed and Mireille snuck something through, but they were led by a [Lord]. And the [Lord] cut through the smoke with his sword, speaking. “I [Exert My Authority], this fire belongs to my man’s elemental, so let it not pester me so.”

And it did not. The smoke faded away to the corners and floor, staying out of their faces. That damned calm on the man…

But Fayette was already moving, thinking of a new plan. The barrier was closing in, but she had seen something earlier. There were bodies in the room—[Mages] by the hole, so she walked to the side and dug around, feeling that calm gaze of a [Lord] on her.

So sure. You’ll see.

The [Maid] dug around, found a [Mage’s] collected treasures in a pouch and recognized a stone. She had had only one, picked off from a drunken [Mage] at a party, but she remembered its effects well. She stepped back, hiding it in her hand, then met the [Lord’s] eyes. He still seemed confident, counting down the minutes to his win.

He’s not moving in to attack. He looks calm, but he has to be nervous. Only defence skills—what a fool. You don’t give a [Maid] preparation time.

The fire and smoke was thick, there was barely any more time to act, and Fayette had a tool. A tool for extermination. Killing, not fighting. She had never used it on humans—but did that really matter? Kobolds, spiders, any who stood in her way—they were all just enemies.

Battle and extermination, what did it matter? The opportunity was there, and the time had come.

Fayette turned around, took out her last bottle of [All Purpose Cleaner], dropped a fork inside, then the stone, then corked it. The liquid started bubbling and frothing, and pressure started to build. She kept up her spin, met the [Lord’s] eyes, then threw. [Cutlery Control] guided the bottle, and it smashed against a shield.

And then gas started spreading.

She saw panicked reactions from the enemies, a few skills, but Fayette ran forward to fan it in with her broom, and she saw that Mireille had managed to spread thread over the door behind. The yellow gas rose and went past the shields and swords. A turtle with one weakness.

It reached the men. They flinched back from it, but held in place by skills disavowing retreat…

The screams started.

The first two men in front. Gas started peeling off skin from flesh and going into lungs. They tried to retreat back, but couldn’t move their legs one bit. The gas spread, hitting the senior [Knight], who flinched back instantly.

And he broke the skill. Like a pile of cards, the base was ripped off, and the other skills collapsed too. Suddenly, the men were all rushing back, away from the advancing tide of gas, and they could not open the door.

Two seconds.

The [Lord] tried to say something, overwhelmed by how fast everything had failed, but the gas was by his mouth already. His skin was curling, scalding and he vomited blood. His capstone broke too, and he stumbled back against the wall.

The group was covered wholesale, and the screams were dimmed by gurgles of blood. Using this on the kobolds had been brutal, but humans—

They didn’t really sound that different. Fayette did not quiver, she felt nothing at it, just kept fanning the gas forward more. Desperate men bashed the door, and finally got it open, but the gas followed them out, and they collapsed soon. One man stepped towards her out of the gas cloud, clutching at his helmet, and the [Maid] pushed a knife through the eyehole.

Marie was frozen in horror, and even Mireille was green in the face, but Olivia did not shake. The [Doctor] just threw knives into the cloud, face grim.

And then the [Lord] ran out, face scarred and burned. Fayette moved to bash him, but he suddenly skipped to the side and jumped through the hole in the wall and fell two stories, clutching his head. Fayette saw him land outside and get up. He was forcing something into his mouth.

A potion?

A quick glance—Fayette saw her party was fine. The [Knights] were all crumpled on the floor, so she swept the gas around her, toward the flames, where it all burned out in one last flash. Fayette nodded at her party.

Then she jumped outside. Escape…

It could not be allowed.