Chapter 127 - Two Blades and a Tail VIII
Having slept through a rare, dreamless night, Claire rose from a less-than-comfortable mossy slab with a stretch and a yawn. Her back was sore. The lack of padding had wreaked havoc on the groove between her cervitaurian hips and her humanoid rib cage. A dull pain pulsed through her side every time she tried to sit upright. Sleeping on a literal bed of rock had been nothing but a horrible mistake.
Though she winced with each motion, the halfbreed’s mood was no longer as foul as it had been the previous night. She was starting to miss the fox’s silly retorts, and a half-due apology was no longer too steep a price. The blueblood still did fault Sylvia for her lack of sensitivity, but it wasn’t as if her four-legged friend was entirely to blame. The vixen was anything but subtle, but neither was she as dumb as she liked to behave.
With that consideration in mind, she groggily looked around and sought the fox’s frame, but it was nowhere to be seen. She activated catgirl detector and scouted the surrounding area, but the skill failed to provide the information she sought and led only to the claim that she was all alone.
“Sylvia? Sylvia!”
She tried calling for the enigmatic forest critter, but there was no response. The hat didn’t suddenly appear out of thin air, like she had on nearly every other occasion.
A small frown crossed the lyrkress’ lips. “Did she really leave?” She scoured her surroundings and checked behind every rock and boulder, but the results remained unchanged. “Great.”
She called for a basket of bread as she leaned against the cave’s inner wall. She had to face it. Her guide—her friend—had vanished in the middle of the night.
“I should’ve been quicker to apologize,” she whispered, under her breath.
“No, no, you’re fine. It’s her fault,” said a ghostly snake.
“You shut up.” Claire waved the serpent away, buried her face in her arms, and heaved a heavy sigh. The noodle’s words of encouragement were pointless. She knew better than to avoid blaming herself.
There was a cold, sinking sensation in her chest. She clenched her teeth, shook her head, and tried to drive it away, but it refused to leave her alone. The familiar apprehension was like a liquid glue. It sunk into the deepest parts of her mind and sealed itself in.
“She might come back.”
The whimper did nothing to comfort her. It wasn’t true. And she knew it. There was no point in lying to herself, no point in building up an expectation that would only lead to further disappointment.
“Why?”
She had been abandoned. For the second time in a month.
“It was just one fight.”
It was all her fault. Again, she had demonstrated that she was nothing but a disappointment. She had failed to prove to her father that she was worthy of his title. Just as she had failed to prove to Sylvia that there was more to her but a bitter, empty shell.
“Alice always made up with me.”
Self-loathing washed over her like a torrential rain. Even knowing that she was to blame, she had wanted the fox to take the initiative for no reason but to sate her pride. That was the only reason they had fought to begin with. It was all for her ego, her stupid, useless ego.
A frustrated groan escaped her lips as she grit her teeth and clenched her fists hard enough to draw blood. She grabbed her hair and nearly tore out a few tufts, stopping only as she recalled that the silky mane was one of the few things that would not immediately regenerate. Another choice made in vanity. And another choice that plagued her.
Further souring her mood was the knowledge that she could have set everything back on the right path. Sylvia had given her a shot at redemption, a blatant opportunity, where her father had given her nothing. And she had thrown it away. All because she was too stubborn to let the fox come out on top.
“It’s not my fault.”
Claire’s nose began to stuff up as she turned into a humanoid and hugged her knees. The bread basket finished forming while she had her head pressed against her legs, but she didn’t react. It bounced off her wrist and spilled its less-than-palatable contents all over the moss-covered cave.
Like the meaningless loafs, their summoner stayed put where she was, until she heard a pair of footsteps approach. Her ears twitching, she wiped off her face and slowly raised her head. Her hopes were high, and that was precisely why she was met with disappointment. Had she been in the right state of mind, she would have noticed from the sound alone. But as she was, it took looking upon the monster’s shadow to conclude that it wasn’t the fox.
Its silhouette was too tall, too fat and ugly to belong to anything but a hellhog.
The dismay biting away at her, she buried her face back into her arms and closed her eyes. If she was lucky, it would pass through the corridor without being alerted to her presence. But as much as she wanted it to leave her alone, the bipedal pig had other plans in mind. It turned the corner, beat its chest like a gorilla, and charged like a bull.
For a brief moment, she considered letting it do as it pleased, but even shaken, she knew better than to let herself fall. A flick of the arm sent Shouldersnake to war. The phantom flew from her fingertips and wrapped itself around the monster’s neck. The serpent’s hissing was followed by a loud snap and an equally loud crash. Neck broken, the hog collapsed, its corpse skidding to a stop right by her feet.
Log Entry 3579
You have slain a level 41 hellhog.
The lyrkress bit her lips and lowered her head again. Hearing the goddess’ voice only left her feeling more distraught. She wanted to talk to someone, or even something. But there was no point. No one would answer, no matter how loud her shouts. She couldn’t simply force one of the servants to fetch Mariabelle and complain to her as she could in days past. Nor could she wander into the kitchen to seek Amereth. Not even Allegra was available. Annoying as she was, Claire would have taken the nosy tutor to the haunting silence.
Anything was better than being alone.
Wordlessly, Claire stared into the dead monster’s eyes. There was no life left in them, nothing but the mess that was her own reflection. She was wearing nothing but a negligee too large for her humanoid form. Her hair was in disarray, her eyes were swollen and puffy, and the tip of her nose was red.
“I hate this.”
Gritting her teeth again, the lyrkress forced herself to her feet and stumbled over to the rift at the room’s centre. She was annoyed, annoyed that the fox was gone, and annoyed at herself for driving her away. But she couldn’t simply spend the day wallowing in her regrets. She still had things to do and monsters to kill; there was no point in sitting around and wasting her time.
“Stupid fox.”
She tightened her grip, stepped through the portal, and got to work.
Everything that got in her way was violently dismembered, with some of the bulkier targets stabbed a few extra times for good measure. The lord was dealt with similarly. Though she had approached it with caution during their previous encounters, the third confrontation was made with nothing but reckless abandon. She charged right at it with a knife in each hand and overwhelmed it with brute force. It tried to swat her away, but she dodged and parried its attacks, hugging close to its body to avoid its wide swings. Over and over, it was stabbed in the vitals, until its body finally gave out.
Its death was accompanied by a bizarre phenomenon demonstrated by none of its predecessors. A large butterfly with orange and black wings flew out of one of its open wounds. She lunged at the insect, but it evaded both her physical strikes and the vectors she used to reel it in. Calmly, as if it weren’t under attack, the bug fluttered over to a rock and perched itself on top of it.
The tiny pebble inflated immediately, becoming a large monolith with a familiar shape. Runes were burned in it soon after, spreading out from its core as would a drop of dye in a bucket of clear water.
Even before it was fully formed, she could tell exactly what it was, another one of the stones that would allow her to commune with the celestial that was the library’s master.
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But she didn’t touch it. Ignoring the gaudy sarsen, she turned around and headed straight for the exit. The old geezer was the last thing she wanted to deal with. Just imagining his voice irked her. She didn’t want to hear it, even if it meant that she would remain all alone with her less-than-pleasant thoughts.
“He might know…”
It was possible. For all she knew, the demigod was both well aware of her predicament and willing to negotiate a deal of sorts, a chance to make up for her mistake.
Still, she refused to see him.
Enlisting his aid simply felt wrong. She knew that she would still be doing the bulk of the work either way; it would ultimately fall to her to convince the fox to accept her apology and perhaps even understand the words she had left unsaid. But the problem was too personal; she didn’t want to discuss the matter with the old pervert, let alone seek his assistance. Both because she was stubborn, and because she feared what he would ask in return. There was no telling what the conniving old pervert would demand, but she doubted that it would be a request with which she was willing to comply. If she was unlucky, then there was a chance he would even seek her chastity. If he was capable of orchestrating a debauched sabbath, then it was unlikely that anything was truly beneath him.
A shudder running down her spine, she shied away from the hexstone and hurried towards the exit. Her body turned lyrkrian and the nightgown she had worn throughout her first trek was transformed into a layer of protective armour, both changes made in fear of the demigod’s lustful gaze.
Maybe she went back to the hollow. Clenching her fists, she walked through the portal that led her outside the instance and started moving through the hallway. I’ll go ask her mother. She seemed nice.
Chin up, she marched through the hall, only to come to a dead stop as she reached the intersection. It was then and only then that she realised she was lost. She had no idea where she was or how she was supposed to find her way back to the exit. Wandering around the cave system would be nothing but a waste of time, another way to wallow in her self-loathing.
“Nothing ever goes the way I want.”
Heaving a small sigh, she retraced her steps and re-entered the instance. There was nowhere else for her to go. She was sure to get lost if she headed in any other direction. Biting her lips and sniffling, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and repeated her trek through the crystalline fungal field.
Each pass, each killing of the lord, took her roughly an hour, with the time required per iteration halving as she began taking to the air and skipping over the rabble that made up the bulk of the mushroom farm’s population. The egg-eyes still attempted to intercept, but they were never quick enough to reach her, be it with their bodies or their projectiles. The purple liquids they spat were blown away by invisible vectors, redirected and used to melt the monsters that had produced them.
The fourth lord of the day came with another hexstone, but she continued to ignore it, dismissing it for the exact same reasons as before. When it reappeared on her seventh kill, however, she found that she was drawn in by its allure. The call only grew stronger with the tenth kill, but again, she managed to stave it off. Pinching her cheeks and looking at her status was enough to prompt her to move on.
Run number thirteen, however, stopped her in her tracks. She couldn’t help but stare at the runic rock, to slowly wander towards it as she wondered why she refused to ask the celestial for his help. The more she thought about it, the less she wanted to simply walk away.
There was no guarantee that his fee would be as ridiculous or exorbitant as her first impulse had suggested. And if it was, then she could refuse. It wasn’t as if speaking with him would immediately lock her into agreeing to his terms. She was still worried that the fox would refuse to listen to her, but the concern would remain a moot point if she was unable to get ahold of her. And if Sylvia hadn’t returned to her family home, then she would be completely out of leads. Dixie aside, she doubted that any of the other foxes would be willing to lend their aid. Darkwood Hollow hadn’t exactly been the most welcoming place.
With her tail tied into a knot and her mind made, she approached the hexstone and slowly placed one of her shaking palms against it. Breathing deep breaths did nothing to calm her. She didn’t stop trembling until she recalled that she would soon be in the presence of a conniving old lecher, one willing and able to take advantage of any weakness she showed.
“There you are. Kept me waiting long enough.” His voice came right as she steadied herself.
When she raised her head, she found Alfred sitting at his desk with his pipe in his mouth, one hand pressed against his forehead, and the other scribbling at a hundred miles a minute. Right away, she noticed that there was something different, something off. For one, there were far more pages on his desk than there were during their previous encounters. He was almost entirely obscured by a mess of parchment and paper, a mountain with its peak right in front of his face.
When he pushed it all away, he revealed not the usual playful grin, but a look that highlighted his wrinkles and emphasized the lesions on his skin. His eyes were baggy, with blackened circles going all the way down to his cheekbones. His gaze was only half-focused, and the wand floating behind him was working in overdrive. It spun and twisted so quickly that it became something of an imperceptible blur. The forces that it produced were so numerous that even looking at it was enough to give her a headache.
“As you can see, I’ve been rather… busy lately. Why don’t we keep this short?” Without waiting for a response, he lifted a piece of paper off his desk, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at her.
She tried to duck out of the way, but her body refused to listen to her orders. It stayed stock still as the page bounced off her head and transferred its contents straight into her mind.
Log Entry 3926
You have read The Lost Library’s Fifth Chapter. It has been transcribed into your native language as the following log entry.
Log Entry 3927
Hello, trial goer, and congratulations on finding a fifth set of instructions. There are two more to go. Focus, and you will be able to push through to the end. Be aware that the path need not be straight. If you require greater power, then seek the equitaur’s chamber. It is an eternal challenge with which comes an endless supply of experience. So long as you continue to grow, you will remain triumphant.
Comprehending the contents of this message will grant the following boons:
- Experience gained from equitaur kills is doubled
- Access to the sixth hexstone immediately upon the equitaur’s defeat
- A lengthy audience with the Head Librarian, during which he will be more inclined to honestly answer any questions posed
The final clause’s specificity led Claire to raise a brow, but she refrained from commenting out loud. When she tore her eyes off her glowing blue box, she found the celestial had already switched gears. He stared at her with an amused glint in his eye, like a child waiting for a prank to bear fruit. Claire, of course, took the sudden shift as a sign to stay silent. She feigned ignorance, met his gaze, and spoke the demand that had driven her to touch his cursed stone.
“Where’s Sylvia?”
The man furrowed his brow. “I thought she was with you.”
“I wouldn’t be asking if she was,” said Claire. It took a conscious effort for her not to frown or mumble. She didn’t know if he could see right through her, the way Flux could, but she tried her best not to show any weakness nonetheless.
“How curious. And you’re certain that she didn’t mention something before leaving? She isn’t exactly the sort to up and vanish without warning.”
“I didn’t think so either.”
“Hmmm…” He puffed a cloud of smoke from his pipe as he fiddled through the air with his fingers, swiping and tapping at something that only he could see. “Did you perhaps try seducing her? She happens to have some… issues due to her heritage, and doesn’t take well to that sort of behaviour.”
“No,” said Claire. She almost wanted to throw something at him, but her voice remained steady. She did allow her eyes to narrow into a glare, but only because she thought it would have been more natural to react than not.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s the only possible explanation that comes to mind, really.” He set down his pipe and stroked his beard.
She paused for a moment, opening her mouth only after a moment’s consideration. “We fought. And then she vanished.”
“Oh? Did you now?” The glint in his eye returned as he stopped moving his fingers and focused his eyes on the space in front of him. “I normally would have known prior to this meeting, of course, but I’ve been a little too preoccupied with some other work.”
Disgusting.
The celestial spent a few seconds chuckling, only to suddenly furrow his brow. Claire could feel herself slipping from his focus; his eyes moved away from her own and centered themselves on whatever he had in front of him. He began quickly digging through the pages on his desk shortly after, sorting through them at an almost impossible speed.
“I can’t find her,” said the demigod, as all the pages on his desk were thrown to the floor.
Claire felt her breath get stuck in her throat as Alfred rummaged through his drawers. When he finished going through them, he snapped his fingers and had his wand deliver him a book, a massive tome as wide as he was tall. She couldn’t see its contents in detail from where she stood, but she caught a few glances of what appeared to be some sort of ledger. Its columns were marked with various symbols, letters, numbers, all jumbled up into a bundle of nonsense.
“That’s impossible,” he muttered, under his breath. “All the other foxes are present and accounted for.” His fingers flipped through the pages, a dozen at a time. “Is she the only one? What about the torches?” The old human’s eyes narrowed as one of his fingers stopped on a very specific entry. He kept talking to himself, but from that point on, his words were imperceptible. Not even raising her ears allowed her to catch them.
When he finally closed the book, he did so with a wide grin. The expression was relatively unassuming at a glance, but his aura reeked of something else, something beyond mere amusement. A sickly, red and black energy radiated off his body and flooded the surroundings as would a poisonous mist.
“I take it you’re familiar with the citadel by now?”
Wordlessly, Claire nodded.
“Excellent.” He grabbed his wand out of the air and gave it a few quick waves. “In that case, I would like you to do me a small favour.”
Log Entry 3928
One of your quests, Kill Archibald Ravensworn, has been rescinded.
Log Entry 3929
You have received a quest - Eliminate Insurgents
Primary Objectives:
- Archibald Ravensworn is slain.
- Beckard Links is slain.
- Frederick Wappitit is slain.
- Sylvia Redleaf is captured.
- Zelos Redleaf is slain.
Deadline: 72 hours
Completing at least three of this quest’s primary objectives will provide a reward in the form of an immediate second ascension, along with all accompanying levels and bonuses. Successful completion comes with an upgrade to the Llystletein Authority skill that provides safe passage to and from Llystletein.