Chapter 376 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons V
It took another day and a half for the party to cross the border between Fornestead and Zarkaahn. Unlike the raccoon country’s southern frontier, its northern equivalent was far from loose and unguarded. There were heavy patrols on both sides of the dividing line, with soldiers from each stopping the group for questioning and examination. Such was the consequence of the blood feud between the nations. Their royal families had hated one another for generations, and they were yet embroiled in a centuries-long war.
The soldiers’ demographics made it clear when they transitioned from one nation’s domain to the other’s. And if that alone wasn’t obvious enough, the change in the surroundings certainly did the trick. Everything from the roads to the lakes to the surrounding trees and creatures was immediately sized up.
It was an effect borne of the land itself; the leylines in the area had been warped by some magic or other and bestowed an element that radiated through the surrounding domains. It was much like the effect of an active volcano, wherein all the surrounding life would be pushed towards developing fire-adjacent traits. Only, in Fornestead’s case, the element was gigantism. The lesser of three centuries or generations drove the effect to take hold, but once mutated, it was nigh impossible for one to turn back even after leaving the area in question. Two giants that moved away from their native domain would still birth equally giant children, grandchildren, and so on and so forth.
They could still dilute the element by way of mixing their blood, granted, the precise verification thereof was lacking in substance. Most of the experiments had been run with other elements, and it was difficult to say if the results applied to gigantism. After all, it was difficult for giants to breed with other species, albeit more from a physical perspective than a genetic one. Like the humans from which they were derived, giants were technically capable of producing viable offspring with whatever they pleased.
“Hey uhmmm… Claire? Do you think bigger is better?” asked Sylvia.
“I don’t.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Really really?”
“Really really.”
“Then why are you using that giant fox as a pillow!?”
“Because it’s soft,” said the lyrkress, matter-of-factly.
The creature in question, a large orange dog roughly three meters tall, was practically frozen in fear. Its eyes were focused on the humanoid qiligon, its ears were flopped, and its tail was curled up. If its trembling was anything to go by, it was on the verge of relieving itself against its will, but Claire had chased it down and turned it into a makeshift bed regardless.
Of course, the vulpine was far less entertained by the result. Even as it lay with its stomach exposed and its back pinned to a tree, the fox was itching for a chance to escape. Alas, there wasn’t really any way for it to break free. The lizard sitting on top of it was heavy enough to keep it pinned down.
The critter was quite lucky then that Sylvia clearly had its best interests at heart. Her cheeks inflated, she put bubbles around each of the fox molesters and provided it an opportunity to return to the forest.
It was an event that took place some thirty minutes ahead of the carriage. Nominally, the party’s splinter was scouting ahead and examining the terrain in case there was any trouble, but in reality, the girl and her pets were simply goofing off.
Boris was the worst offender. He wasn’t just messing around, but napping with nine bodies at once. Two were in the trees nearby, six were spread across all the places they had visited, and the last was back in the wagon with the rest of the party. He was putting more effort into getting nothing done than the rest of the brigade combined, and that wasn’t even counting the twelve-odd Borises wide awake and in the midst of spacing out. But while he was certainly doing the most slacking, so too he was doing the most work. He was the only one even remotely on guard—the only one to notice and eliminate the three butterflies headed in their direction.
Clearly, they were sinister ne’er-do-wells with only the worst of intentions, and clearly, he had protected his mistress.
Clearly.
He maintained a similar level of caution throughout, and yet, his defence was imperfect. He somehow failed to notice the raccoon that had, at some unknown point in time, appeared directly atop his head. Given that Panda’s new body weighed three times as much as his old one, he could not exactly be easily dismissed. One had to wonder exactly how or when he had arrived on the scene.
Alas, it was beyond the metal iguana’s understanding, so he decided not to think about it at all. It wasn’t like his input changed the output to begin with.
“Panda.”
Claire called for the rat in question shortly after his advent. It didn’t seem to matter that the canopy was unmoving nor that he had yet to make a sound. She spun as soon as he turned his eyes in her direction.
“Hey.” Sliding down the length of Boris’ tail, the balloon-shaped raccoon landed on top of a large log and greeted the pair with a wave. “Do you really have to glare at me like that every damn time?”
“Yes,” said Claire.
“Keep that up, and all your customers’ll run away,” he said, with a grunt. “And by all your customers, I mean me.” The ball laughed at his own joke, his yellowed teeth on open display.
“Where have you been?” asked Claire.
“Oh, you know, here and there. Gathered a bit of intel in Cadria, made some bank in Kryddar, just the usual,” said Panda. “Anyway, I’m pretty much just dropping in to tell you that Ephesus has called off his shit.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what I said. He’s figured out who you are. And since you aren’t your uncle, he pretty much went right back to the drawing board. No promises, but I doubt you’ll see any more Cadrian interference until you’re much further north.”
Claire paused for a few seconds before nodding her head. “It’s only to be expected. We wiped out an entire fleet. That’s enough to raise even Cadria’s guard.”
“An entire unauthorized fleet that held nothing back,” said Panda. “Chances are, this is only gonna make things harder for you by the time you actually get up there.” He raised a hand to his brow and looked in the direction of the wagon. “Their expectations are gonna be high. And well, you guys aren’t exactly up to par.”
“You don’t need to remind me,” muttered the lyrkress. “We’ll probably have to spend some time in Paunse or Kryddar.”
The moth and cat-run countries had a number of decent dungeons to their names. The higher-level ones still weren’t quite as abundant as they were in Cadria, but it was unavoidable. The northern lands were much harsher than their southern counterparts.
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“Are there gonna be any decent dungeons along the way?” asked Sylvia.
“Dunno,” said Panda. “I was planning to loop back around tonight so we could figure out some of our plans. Throw me a few coins, and I’ll check up on the geography while I’m out.”
“Uhmmmm… what are you even gonna use the money for?”
“What do you think? I’m gonna buy shit, duh.”
“I mean… aren’t you a raccoon? Raccoons don’t buy stuff!”
“Didn’t you just pass through a whole ass country of raccoons? They had merchants, didn’t they?”
Sylvia crossed her paws and huffed. “Yeah, but those raccoons were huge and stood on two legs!” she said. “Well, I mean uhm, you’re kinda huge too, but I’d be kinda surprised if you were actually capable of walking around.”
“I was born with a short spine. It happens, sometimes.” The sphere shrugged.
“Now you’re just playing dumb!” said the fox. “You clearly aren’t one of them! They were like ten times taller than you!”
“Yeah, well that ‘cause the Zarkaahanins are raccoons, and I’m a panda,” he said. “Anyway, I gotta run.”
“Wait! Get back here! I’m not done talking to you yet!” Sylvia chased the zero-sided object, but he vanished the moment he made it into the undergrowth. “What the heck!? He totally just showed up, said what he wanted, and left.”
“That’s nothing new,” said Claire. Picking the fox back up in her arms, she materialized her wings and gave them a solid flap. “Let’s go join up with the others. There’s a city up ahead.”
“Yeah, good idea!”
Fox and lizard in tow, the caldriess rose into the air and regrouped with their flightless companions.
___
The next leg of the journey went smoothly. They made it through a set of fifty-meter gates and entered a city filled with ten-meter people; even with its covered top, the wagon failed to reach the locals’ knees. Like all the other foreign visitors, the brigade had little choice but to use the dedicated short person’s lane that lined the side of the street. It was held in a trench between the sidewalk and the road to minimize the chance that an unfortunate visitor would be stepped upon.
That, however, was the extent of the non-native support; everything else was configured almost exclusively for the indigenous population. The average ceiling was about one-and-a-half times the height of the average person and the doors were sized accordingly. Without a giant’s mass to push them open, one could only rely on an inflated strength stat. Granted, it was likely due to their high strength efficiency that giants were capable of supporting their bodies in the first place. Alas, such were the woes of math.
“I cannot claim to enjoy this sensation.” Arciel looked out the back of the wagon as the brigade made its way through the city. “It is as if we are scurrying under the streets like rats.”
“It’s a little claustrophobic.” Chloe’s glasses nearly fell off her face as she nodded her head in agreement. “It almost feels like we’re in a trench.”
“On the bright side, we could probably strike it rich if we manage to find ourselves some decent work,” said Krial. His eyes were on a merchant in the midst of receiving an incredibly large, golden coin from one of the city’s locals. “Those things are as tall and wide as our knees.”
“Wrong,” said Lana. She was seated beside the driver, basking in the scant bits of sunlight that the giants failed to block. “It’s fool’s gold.”
“How can you tell?” asked the elf.
“Colour.” The pirate produced two pieces of metal from within her shirt. One was a standard, Vel’khanese coin marked with an image of the moon, while the other was a largely ovular blob that shone with a similar lustre. The wolf girl looked at the elf expectantly, perhaps thinking that the explanation sufficed, but all she got in return was the blankest of stares.
“Not sure I follow,” he said, after a brief delay.
She frowned for a moment before raising the coin and pressing it closer to the old man’s face. “This is fake.” She held it there for a solid few seconds before switching it for the other item. “This is real.”
“You’ll have to give me a more in-depth explanation later,” said Krail. “I can’t really see the difference.”
“Neither can I,” said Arciel. “Are such imitations common?”
The pirate shook her head. “No.”
“You might see a few every once in a while a little further up the coast,” said Chloe. “They were a lot more common in the past, but most of the supply was wiped out when Matthias headed up there last year.” The maid immediately brought a hand to her mouth, but it was too late. Her mistress had already lowered her hat over her eyes and returned to her seat with a frown.
“I was unaware he handled such affairs on my behalf.” She slumped into one of the wagon’s corners and wrapped her arms around her legs, leaving Chloe with a pained grimace.
No one knew what to say. They simply sat in the carriage as it slowly lumbered its way down the busy street. Sylvia tried scanning the shops for a tasty snack or two, something to fix Arciel’s mood, but it was to no avail. All the ingredients were every bit as oversized as the giants that cooked them; nothing available looked likely enough to fit in a human-sized mouth.
“By the fucking gods, lady, it's always this shit with you,” grumbled Jules. “I’ve had enough. Get over it already.”
Arciel clenched her fists and tightened her grip on her knees. “I would rather you refrained from speaking.”
“Yeah, and I fucking bet that Matthais would rather you stopped fucking moping around and put the life he saved to some decent use.”
The squid’s knuckles whitened and her nails dug deeper into her skin. But rather than speaking up, she only lowered her head and bit her lips.
“Jules!” Chloe shot to her feet, only to be met with a snort.
“Bitch, sit the fuck down and stop fronting. You don’t even care for real. All that matters to you is getting between her legs.”
“I—” Chloe opened her mouth to retort, but the clam cut her off before she could.
“The fuck do you think this is? This whole fucking journey began with steeling ourselves to chuck our fucking lives out the window at a moment’s notice. Hell, you fuckers have blood on your hands from the very goddamn start. You got some of us killed in training. What, did you think they didn’t have friends and family or something? Did you really get out of bed this morning and think you had the motherfucking right to break down the moment one of your buddies died? Fuck off!” The words drew attention from all the people around them, but Jules continued regardless. “Even if we do make it all the way to the goal, which let’s be honest, we probably aren’t gonna, we’d probably end up getting our asses killed by the Cadrians in the arena anyway. Are you planning to just fucking mope around and throw your fucking match just because the guy in front of you got his shit fucked? Because if you are, then I’m calling it here. There’s no fucking point in sticking around if all you’re gonna do is dick around and feel sorry for yourself.”
“Jules!” Chloe stomped over to him and grabbed him by the soft and squishy innards, but he was unfazed, only returning her an annoyed stare.
“It’s the truth,” he said. “Look, do you want to keep babying her, or do you actually want to come out of this fucking hellhole with a win?” The clam grabbed the vampire’s wrists, but her hands refused to budge. “I’m not in this to get my ass kicked, and neither were Ace and Matthias. They laid down their lives because they wanted to do something about the fucking situation, not ‘cause they thought your dumb ass would bawl your eyes out.”
“That doesn—”
Chloe was cut off again—albeit not on the clam’s account. Arciel tugged on her skirt from behind and shook her head when the half-succubus looked in her direction.
“I admit, there is a point in his claim.” Her voice was quiet, barely audible even with the city’s volume reduced. She took one breath, then a second and a third before she gave up on lifting her eyes. “Thank you for reminding me of my purpose, Jules. I shall endeavour to address my emotional state.”
“Ciel!?” The maid opened her eyes wide. “But aren’t you…”
“I cannot deny his statement. However, I remain incapable of acting upon it immediately. I require some time to sort through my thoughts, but I am of the same mind. To lose hope here would be to waste Matthias’ sacrifice.”
Her words were hopeful, but her voice was hoarse and dry. She still refused to look up, speaking with her eyes on the floor in front of her.
Jules examined her for a moment before scoffing and looking the other way. The response earned a rather sharp reception from the lady’s maid, but another tug stopped it short of ballooning out of control.
“Chloe. Leave him be.”
The maid hesitated, but she eventually returned her arms to her side. In the end, all she managed was to give him a nasty look that went entirely ignored.