Chapter 123 - Two Blades and a Tail IV
“Why are you still a fairy?”
The question was posed after a relatively silent hour spent trekking through the mirewood. The pair progressed at a leisurely pace, with neither letting their feet touch the ground. Claire was floating in the space between the two realms, while Sylvia sat on top of her. For once, she was not on her head, but one of her shoulders. The swap was a function of her form; she had moved after accidentally driving the back of her foot into one of the other girl’s eyes.
“Ummm… I dunno,” said Sylvia. “I don’t really feel like changing back.”
The claim left the rogue with her eyes narrowed and her ears twitching. Something seemed off; Sylvia clearly preferred her four-legged form and would rarely ever spend any time outside of it unprompted, but while her insistence was suspicious, the rest of her behaviour fell within its usual bounds. At the very least, it was normal enough for Claire to think that it really was related to her mood. The elf was a lot quieter than she was on most days, and her canine parts were jumpy and twitchy. Her ears moved at every sound, no matter how small, and her tail darted to and fro whenever there was silence.
“I thought you liked being a fox more.”
“I do!” said the two-legged forest critter. “Being a fox is way better than being a person. I feel naked without all my fur!”
“That’s why you wear clothes.”
“I am. Look!” Sylvia grabbed one of the other girl’s ears and forced her to turn her head. “But I still feel really weird!”
“Then wear more clothes.”
Sylvia was no longer wearing the dress of leaves that she had made during their beachside excursion. Instead, it had been replaced with a more traditional elven garb, a short silken robe complete with an entirely unnecessary set of coattails. The dress was adorned with plant-based patterns; vines, leaves, and flowers were all imprinted upon the fabric. Each of its tiny details was deliberate, crafted with utmost care and attention.
“I’d get way too hot if I wore any more than this! It already feels like I’m about to start sweating buckets.”
“I can fix that.” Claire emitted a blast of cold air. It wasn’t particularly powerful or intense, just a faint arctic wind.
“Eek!” Sylvia leapt from her seat with a squeak. “That’s too cold!”
“Exactly. Now put on another layer.”
“I can’t! I don’t just carry a bunch of clothes around, and mine don’t transform like yours do!”
“Then change back.” Claire reached for the fairy’s cheeks, but stopped short of touching them. Her arm was quickly retracted back into her cloak, right before the moment of contact.
“What the heck! Why do you want me to change back so badly?”
“Because it’s weird when you’re not a fox.”
Sylvia looked at herself before tilting her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You seem less like a pet when you’re a person.”
“You’re making that sound like that’s a bad thing! I am a person!”
Sylvia flew up to the other girl’s forehead and made an attempt to rap her fists against it, but she was intercepted before she could make contact. Claire poked her in the chin and sent her tumbling through the air with a tiny burst of magic.
“Petting you feels weird when you’re not a fox. That isn’t something you do to people. Or fairies.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not like it even matters. I’m still me.”
“It matters. It’s awkward.”
“Hmmm…” The half elf put a finger on her chin. “Oh, I know!” Her ears and tail twitched as light suddenly enveloped her body. She grew to ten times her previous size, matching the average person in height. The light began to fade, only to brighten once more as she suddenly shrunk back down and regained her four-legged frame. She buried her face in her paws and went deathly silent, not saying a word as torn bits of silk rained down on her still-glowing fur.
“What were you trying to do?” asked Claire.
Sylvia didn’t answer right away. She continued to keep her face hidden even as she was picked up and moved without permission. It wasn’t until a minute later that she finally lowered one of her forelimbs and slowly began to speak. “I was going to turn into a full-sized elf and give you a hug so I could prove it wouldn’t be weird.” Her voice began to trail off as she turned her eyes away. “But I forgot about my dress.”
“I like you better when you have four legs anyway.”
“But I want you to like me no matter how many legs I have!”
Claire smiled before pulling the fox into her hands and playing with her fur. “This would be weird if you were a person,” she said, as she fiddled with the fox’s ears. “Very weird.”
“I am a person!”
“People and pets are different.”
“No we’r-uhhhmmm, no they’re not! Uhm… I mean, yes they are! Wait, no, that’s not right either!” Sylvia placed both paws on top of her head and shook it from left to right as she tried to sort through her existential crisis. “Whatever! It doesn’t matter! I’m not a pet! And if you don’t believe me, then I’m going to bite you!”
“Fine.”
“Now say it with me! Sylvia is not a pet, she’s a person, and she’s super adorable,” chirped the fox.
“Sylvia is not a pet, she’s my pet. And she’s only adorable when she’s not being annoying.”
“Claaaaairre!”
Only after a few seconds of maintaining her poker face did the lyrkress finally give in to the urge to giggle. “I was joking about half of it.”
“Only half!?” Sylvia’s ears shot up as she spun around and looked at her captor with her jaw hanging in disbelief.
“It really is a little weird when you turn into a fairy, but it’s not as bad as it would be, if you were elf-sized.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“But friends hug each other and stuff all the time!” said the fairy.
“Not noble ladies. Or at least not Cadrian ones.”
Alice was the only one of her acquaintances that had ever gotten touchy feely, and even she had grown out of it by her early teens. By centaurian standards, it was improper etiquette, but many other species had the tendency to be more hands on. Claire’s own mother had always been one to give unsolicited hugs, much to the discomfort of those she randomly embraced, and she wasn’t alone. The annexation of Sthenia had led a number of lamian customs to make their way through the ranks of the Cadrian society. The common folk had quickly taken to it as the new norm, but the upper class was less willing to conform. Most dismissed the behaviour as unacceptable, especially when those of the opposite gender were involved.
“How much further?” asked Claire, as she set her thoughts aside.
“We should be there soon,” said Sylvia. She hummed a brief tune before closing her eyes, raising her ears, and leaning back into the lyrkrian chair’s embrace. “Maybe a few more minutes?”
“You said that half an hour ago.”
“I promise we’re actually really close this time!”
Claire tightened her grip on the critter in her arms, not so hard that it would be painful, but just enough to squeeze a tiny bit of air out of her lungs. An annoyed Sylvia opened her mouth, but stopped short of raising her voice. They were both well aware that she would only be teased if she denied the unspoken claim.
Continuing in silence again, the pair advanced until the world began to distort. As the marsh and meadow grew further apart, they entered a clearing with a large flower planted right at its centre and the surrounding plant life petrified, turned to a brittle white stone. There was a large sphere around the bloom, in which everything, everything, was simply dead. The phenomenon began in the marsh that was the rafflesia’s origin, but its effects spread throughout the forest. Many trees were left at least partially damaged, their canopies and trunks drained of all their life force. Those unlucky enough to be positioned directly above it were eaten all the way down the roots.
Mirewulves were known to lay dormant during the day, and the lord was no different. It appeared to pay no attention until the pair was almost close enough to touch it. For once, Sylvia hadn’t suddenly vanished. She remained in the other girl's arms until she was released and allowed to climb back up on her head.
The false canine stirred when Claire tapped its trunk with the back of her fist, revealing its body in full as it rose to face her. Like all the other lords she had fought, it was more than just a scaled up version of the other members of its species. Its wooden frame was covered in a thick layer of fur that grew only as it woke from its slumber. If not for the occasional bit of wood that poked out from beneath its pelt and the giant flower that was its crown, it would have looked as would a true member of the mammalian order.
It aggressed immediately by violently snapping its jaws, only to fall face first into the swamp when the magical serpent wrapped around its leg snapped its ankle. When it next opened its eyes, it was greeted by the sight of the lyrkress with a foot on top of its face. It tried to open its mouth to consume her, but she stomped its jaw shut. A casual swipe of the tail detached the monster’s flower, its main body, from the wooden frame that was its weapon.
Tendrils extended from its blossom, but she warded the blows off with ease and drained the satanic plant of both its life and its magic.
Log Entry 3188
You have slain a unique level 172 Llystletein Mirewulf Alpha titled “The Lord of the Holt.”
This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:
- 5 points of agility
- 17 points of wisdom
Log Entry 3189
You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.
Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 107.
Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 100.
You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Llystletein Bloodthief’s 50th milestone:
- 75 points of agility
- 75 points of dexterity
- 75 points of strength
- 75 points of vitality
- The Severantus’ Call skill
You have gained 18 ability points.
Claire worked her hands as she listened to the box’s narration. She grabbed the mirewulf’s various parts and fiddled with them, pressing and squeezing to test their durability. Though they weren’t exactly frail, she didn’t find any of them to be particularly sturdy; the oversized wooden dog was more brittle than its smaller cousins, and none of its parts looked like they could be easily weaponised.
Log Entry 3190
You have completed one of “The Lords’ Last Regards’” objectives.
The following objective will remain active for the next 22 days:
- The Lord of the Slough is slain
Log Entry 3191
Manathief has reached level 23.
Log Entry 3192
Achievement Unlocked - Same But Different
You have slain 3 different kinds of unique monsters. You will immediately be promoted to the unique rank if you are reclassified as a monster.
Is that it?
Claire waited with a frown, but no additional messages popped into her mind. She had gained a measly two levels, and only because both were already on the verge of crossing the line; vector mage was still only a fifth of the way to its next milestone. Though her secondary class had temporarily outpaced her primary, the former had narrowly regained the lead following the repeated murder of a certain unfortunate eel. Her newest poison was ineffective when administered against the mollusc she had stolen it from, but it worked wonders on its less delicious compatriot. A full frozen bucket’s worth would easily and consistently kill the lord in a matter of moments.
“Wow, that was anticlimactic,” said Sylvia. “It didn’t even get to put up a fight!”
“Don’t play dumb if you’re not going to put in any effort.”
“Huh?” Sylvia blinked.
“You would have left if you thought it would take any more than a second.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” stuttered the vixen.
Claire rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t work if you‘re not good at hiding how you feel.”
“It never works anyway! I know you always know exactly what I’m thinking!”
Shrugging, Claire got up, rinsed the swamp water off her hands, and floated up into the air. “And now, I just have to kill the frog.”
“Ummm… maybe after you get a little stronger,” said Sylvia with a sidelong glance at the mirewulf’s corpse. “I know you killed the lord of the holt really fast, but the frog’s twice ascended.”
“I know.” She opened her status and glanced at the display. “I’ll try it when I’m 150.”
The goal was still far away, but not so far that it was out of reach. There was no way to say for certain that her evolutions would grant her enough power to take the frog down, but she was fairly confident that they wouldn’t disappoint. Both classes had proven themselves potent so far, and there was no reason for that to suddenly change.
Her expectations high, she opened up her status and examined her newest acquisition. It was the first brand new skill that she had gotten in quite some time, and her heart was pounding to see its effects unveiled.
Severantus’ Call
The slumbering titan known as Severantus was once an aspect of wind. His magical prowess was employed to mask the sound that came with the removal of his beloved’s murderers. Celestial, divine, or otherwise, each target was slain, beheaded in a single strike. You are capable of none of this, and Severantus is well aware. His imprisoned spirit was forced to bear witness to your horrid amateurish attempts at assassination. After being shown your efforts over and over for 100 hours without pause, he eventually agreed to bless you with an ability he once possessed in hopes of it remedying your lack of competence.
Effects
- Unheard attacks deal a static 25% increased damage.
- This skill cannot earn experience. Any that is accrued will be redirected to Assassinate instead.
Severantus? The character from the children’s story?
Claire took a moment to contemplate and subsequently dismiss the fictional character’s existence before doing the same with his skill. It wasn’t bad, by any means, but it wouldn’t change the way she behaved. It was entirely passive and its effect was not the sort to be noticed, be it by the assailant or the victim.
“150 still seems a little early,” said Sylvia, her ears drooped.
“I’ll be fine,” said Claire.
The hat opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again soon after. She chose instead to plop her face down on top of the more stubborn halfbreed’s head and fiddle with her ears. “Where do you wanna go next?”
“Down.”
“Oh, right! I almost forgot we were supposed to go to the green belt.” Standing up on her hind legs, the fox raised a paw and pointed it towards the horizon. “It should be that way. It’s not that far, and we should get there by the end of the day no problem.”
Claire nodded and sped up, pulling herself forward as quickly as she could go. “But first, I have some unfinished business to attend to.”
She had already decided that the tower would be the first landmark they visited. The first quest Alfred had given her was still left undone, and at the very least, she was itching to see the man’s ravens to their graves.