Chapter 254 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon VI
The following week vanished in the blink of an eye, with the impending threats growing more obvious throughout. The dungeon stopped just outside the city, roughly two kilometers beyond its limits and five above the sea. Queen Priscilla had taken the opportunity to assure the public that no harm would come, and for the most part, the people were willing to accept her judgement. Only the fliers were bothered, and even then, it was a minor inconvenience. Few would ever rise high enough to find themselves adversely affected by the spiral winds.
While it was certainly a contributor, confidence in the crown was not what drove the laissez-faire attitude. The lack of skepticism stemmed from the experience the locals had with natural disasters.
The powerful, titanic creatures that lurked beneath the deep cared little for the lives led by those on the surface. Once every few years, they would clash, fighting for access to territory and mates. And each time, a countless number of tsunamis would sweep across the city. The coastal people had been forced to adapt their bodies and buildings to ensure that they could weather the storm. That was why so many structures were built of glass and stone, so that they would stay standing even under the weight of the sea.
It didn’t take an engineer to determine that the wave-resistant buildings had little resistance to the dungeon’s wind wall. But even so, the joyful atmosphere refused to abate. That was not to say that there was no one concerned. Many of the wealthier residents, especially the rich merchants with no stake in the upcoming coup, had already fled with their families and key possessions in tow. Such a fleet-footed retreat naturally opened up opportunities for the less risk-averse to step in and raid their abandoned homes. One could very easily argue that it was a nonissue. The merchants had effectively stated that they were willing to lose everything they had left behind, and it hardly mattered to them whether it was taken by the galewinds or the poor. The crown issued orders to suppress the lawless raiders by force nonetheless in the name of enforcing the law, but Arciel’s men stepped in at every turn and took the opportunity to chip away at their ranks.
No longer were the skirmishes as small as they had been just a few weeks prior. Several hundred-man clashes had occurred in broad daylight, often in public spaces where they could easily be observed. With soldiers on both sides screaming their allegiances, it had become obvious that there was a much larger conflict brewing beneath the surface.
And yet, even with two major threats looming on the horizon, most of the city's residents were unconcerned. A similar phenomenon would have been observed in Cadria, but Claire found the Vel’khanese perspective bizarre. Unlike the fervent warmongers that lived under her father, the locals did not have unwavering faith in their army, and it was not because they knew that they would be unharmed that they remained in their homes. The citizens considered the dungeon a moot concern and the civil war as a cause for excitement. Everyone that was anyone was talking about it, and Gulfweed Reef's patrons were no exception. Drunks of all shapes and sizes were screaming points and counterpoints at one another. They talked about rightful heirs, economic stability, and taxes—asinine opinions that failed to capture any insight into the developments at hand.
Some even shouted right over the rebel royal’s head without making the connection that the Ciel they knew was the very same Arciel Vel'khan in the nation's spotlight. Claire still refused to use the royal’s nickname, save in a few rare cases, but not even that was enough to tip them off. While drunkenness and stupidity were certainly two of the many factors that played into their blindness, the blame did not necessarily fall upon their heads alone. To assume that a literal princess—two literal princesses, to be more precise—frequented the freakishly average restaurant was an absurd conjecture in and of itself. Anyone that went as far as suggesting it was laughed at, their opinion silenced and thrown to the wind.
It didn’t help that the people loved naming their children after their royals; girls whose names began with ‘Arc’ were about as common as dandelions in an untrimmed field. Even though none of them had any idea what the three letters were meant to represent.
“We are in need of information.” The squid breathed a sigh as she closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat. “I cannot determine the best course of action given how little we know of the erdbrecher force.”
“I’ve told you ten times already, stop thinking about it,” said Claire, with a roll of the eyes. “Just relax.”
The cervitaur was sipping away at a glass of juice with a quash board laid out in front of her. Lia sat on the other side, carefully scrutinizing the lay of the land whilst fiddling with one of her fallen pieces. Claire had already declared her moves, but the cat was still deliberating. The game was about to reach its climax; both armies were built up and on the verge of their final confrontation.
“Do not be so unreasonable,” said the squid. “I could not possibly rip it from my thoughts.” She opened her mouth to elaborate, but a floating fork shoved a piece of chicken between her lips before the words could leave her throat.
“Less brooding, more eating.”
The others had finished their dinners before starting the game; their plates had long been taken away by the waitresses, washed, and reused for another set of customers. Arciel, on the other hand, had barely touched hers.
“If you think about it, thinking isn’t really gonna help,” said Sylvia. “It’s not like you’re gonna suddenly figure out how many guys they have.”
The squid’s men had spent the better part of the week following the mercenaries around the town, but not even Pollux, who still brazenly walked around the castle grounds, was able to provide much in the way of intel. Only the erdbrechers were allowed in their quarters. Not even the maids were permitted, for they could easily be kidnapped and threatened into revealing the mercenaries’ numbers.
“Perhaps not,” said the squid, as she swallowed the bird meat, “but I thought that the change in location might have found itself accompanied by a burst of inspiration.”
“Mmmmnnn, I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna think of anything if you haven’t done it already. You’ve been at it for like a whole hour.”
“How about you take a bit of a break?” suggested Lia. She scribbled a few notes in her usual notebook and began moving her pieces. “My second general’s army will be heading to the foundry and setting up an ambush. My spy unit will convert to an assassination at the volcano, and m—”
“Your first general’s army will charge the hills with preparations to commit honourable suicide with a ritual vessel in hand,” said Claire, in her place.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
“What the heck!? How did you know!?” The cat collapsed on the desk and buried her face in her arms.
“You were staring at the hills for almost a full two minutes. And you play like one of my cousins.”
“Ughhh…” She groaned and raised her head, only to pale as Claire shoved a piece of scrap parchment in her face. All three moves were perfect counters to the plans she had just committed; her schemes had been so thoroughly dismantled that she felt like her soul was on the verge of abandoning her body.
Satisfied with the catgirl’s lament, the lyrkress turned to the squid and grabbed her by the nose. “She said take a break, not sink back into thought.”
“I cannot. There is no time to waste.”
They were on the verge of deployment. The dungeon was ready, the birds were evacuated, and the troops were briefed. All they needed to do was await the appointed time.
“All the more reason to stop thinking.” Claire put a little more strength into her nose pinch. “Changing the plan at the last second won’t do us any good.”
“I suppose not.” Arciel pushed her plate aside and placed her head on top of her arms. “It is just… I cannot help but worry.”
“Speaking of things to be worried about…” Lia retrieved her pocket watch, and flipped it open. “Shouldn’t we be getting into position? It’s almost six.”
Claire looked out the window and narrowed her eyes. “We still have time.”
Evening was already upon them. The sky was in the midst of changing from orange to red and the sun halfway beneath the distant shore. As could be seen from their surroundings, the city’s workforce had already retired for the day. They had long abandoned their offices, shipyards, and construction sites to drink away their nightly woes.
“Barely,” said Lia, with a frown. “We’re supposed to be ready in thirty minutes, and we haven’t even double-checked our equipment.”
“We checked it before we left,” said Claire. “Both of you need to stop worrying.”
“Oh, I know!” Sylvia raised a paw. “We should talk about something more fun. Maybe that’ll get everyone’s minds off everything.”
“Like what?” asked Claire.
“Uhhmmm… I dunno. What do people normally talk about when they’re about to go out to war?”
“How about what we’re going to do when all this is over?” Natalya’s suggestion was immediately met with a trio of exasperated looks. “W-what?”
“I’m pretty sure talking about that kinda stuff right before a big battle gets you killed,” said Sylvia. “Or at least that’s how it always went in Al’s books.”
“T-that’s just a superstition,” protested the cat.
“The plays say otherwise,” said Claire. “There’s always some dumb grunt that dies right after talking about his fiancee.”
“Yeah! That’s pretty much how it always goes in the books too,” said Sylvia.
“While I would rather not take inspiration from exaggerated epics, I would prefer not to count my chickens before they have hatched,” added Arciel.
“Besides, we all know what we’re all going to do anyway,” said Claire.
“W-we do?” stuttered Lia.
Again, she was given a number of looks, but Arciel eventually spoke in a low voice after checking their surroundings for eavesdroppers. “I believe that it would not come to you as a surprise that I shall reign over this land as its queen.”
“R-right.”
“And I’m gonna keep an eye on you guys while you go around stabbing everything you see. Especially Claire, since she’s super reckless,” said Sylvia. The tactless comment earned her cheeks a rather aggressive tug, but the fox was so accustomed to the act of violence that she didn’t even flinch. If anything, she leaned into it and rubbed her face against her captor’s fingers.
The cat pressed her hands into her seat and fidgeted as she spoke. “R-right, about that… I was actually thinking that it might be a good idea to settle down somewhere, and maybe even open a shop of some sort.” She paused for a moment to look around the table before continuing, her cheeks a little redder than before. “I-it’s just that it’s getting really hard to level up, and I’m not really sure what we’re working towards in the first place. The job board is great and all, but it doesn’t really seem like the most reliable way to make money.”
“What would you even sell?” asked Claire, with a cock of the head.
“I have a few ideas, but I’m going to have to talk to Auntie about their long-term viability before I make up my mind.”
The lyrkress narrowed her eyes for a moment before suddenly stretching a hand towards the table, her fingers locked on the cat’s journal. Lia was faster, however. She slammed the leatherbound book shut and hugged it to her chest. Claire didn’t give up right then. She tried pulling at the feline’s fingers, but her grip was strong as steel.
“Please don’t! I already have Sylvia reading my thoughts, I don’t need you doing it too!”
“What the heck! That’s just slander!” shouted the fox. “I only look in your head like once every few weeks!”
“Please don’t look in it ever!”
“No way! How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking if I don’t read your mind!?”
“Didn’t you say, just the other day, that you couldn’t read minds?” asked Claire.
“I would also prefer to see this point clarified,” said Arciel.
“Uhh… I did?” The fox started backing away, but she had started too close to the window. It didn’t take long for her to find herself plastered against it, with three unhappy friends staring her down. “Errrr… uhmmm… I don’t know what you’re talking about?” she said, with a nervous laugh.
“You aren’t getting out of this one,” said Claire, as she commandeered the vixen’s cheeks.
Though her mana was being drained at random intervals, the fox turned her body incorporeal and slipped through the glass. An icy hand appeared behind her and shot towards her scruff, while a jet black tentacle grew from the building’s shadow, but she phased through both before teleporting back to her usual seat.
“Nice try, but you’re not getting me that easily,” she said, with a giggle.
“Phasing through spells is cheating,” grumbled the lyrkress. “How am I supposed to catch you if I can’t touch you?”
“Mmmnnn, I dunno, but I’m sure you can pull it off if you really really try.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
“‘Cause you need to try even harder.”
“Can we do this some other time?” asked Lia, as she got up from her seat. “We really need to go.”
“I suppose we must,” said Arciel, as she followed suit.
“Fine.” Claire tried one last time to grab the tiny vixen prancing around on top of her head before she gave up and turned her attention towards the horizon. It was a wonderful evening. Even indoors, she could practically feel the cool winter breeze as it whooshed through the streets. There was still some time before the mission would start, but her heart was already racing.
The sun had fallen.
And soon, the queen’s head would follow.