Chapter 439 - Reign of the Crowned VIII

Sylvia breathed a bit of a sigh as she collapsed into a pile of snow and looked over the mountainous horizon. She was bored out of her mind. The monsters that filled the “third hardest dungeon” were weak enough that she didn’t have to participate in person. One of the echoes that she had created was killing everything in her stead, singing two songs at once and ending the rabble without the slightest hint of effort.

Even the rat snakes that Allegra had struggled with fell in a single verse. There was little that they could do when she sang in precisely the frequency that resonated with their brains. There was no magic involved; their mana-repellent pelts could do nothing to protect them.

At best, they could stall by outrunning the sound, but Sylvia’s voice lost no volume with distance and the dungeon only extended so far. The rodents could escape by sprinting to subsequent floors, but even then, it was only her laziness that delayed their deaths. She could have easily surrounded them with copies and cut off all routes of escape had she not been too bored to put in the extra effort.

Sylvia cleared the dungeon once each hour without ever stepping foot within its bounds. Panda had already introduced her to all of the other high-level places as well, but aside from the domains, which she had deemed too troublesome to invade, none had proven themselves to be worth any thought; her echoes were having no trouble ploughing straight through.

The racial trait that allowed for self-multiplication was precisely the secret behind her rapid growth.

She had a thousand different bodies running a hundred different dungeons, all while she napped the day away. In hindsight, she realised that she should have just gone to Alfred. The equitaurs were clearly much better for training, offering both intellectual growth and far more experience, but she wasn’t in the mood to return to Llysltetein. Sure, she was bored of the Langgbjern dungeons, but engaging in the same old practice she had used to earn all of her previous levels was a surefire way to exhaust the rest of her patience.

A part of her wanted to go running back to Claire’s side—the lyrkress was a prime source of entertainment and one of the few things that sparked her inspiration—but that would have been far too embarrassing. She had explicitly told her pet snoose that she would be spending a bit of time away. Claire was already teasing her for constantly checking in. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the mockery that would await if she gave in so quickly. And so, she begrudgingly persevered.

“Well, looks like someone’s having fun.”

She didn’t know when it happened. But at some point or other, Panda had appeared beside her. He sat on the side of the cliff, legs dangling and his chin lightly cupped in his hands.

“Ughhh… stop reminding me,” huffed the fox. “I knew I should’ve just slept. Leveling is such a waste of effort.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t say that.” Panda cackled. “Think about it this way. The more you level, the better you’ll be able to protect her.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t super boring.”

“Hey, it’s not all bad,” said the ring-tailed pest. “At least you’re actually making fast progress. It’d probably take me ten times as long to gain the same amount of experience. And that’s assuming I’m really going at it.”

“Mmmnnn, I mean, sure I’m gaining experience, but it’s not like it really means much.”

“That’s just ‘cause you’re not fighting one of the crowned.”

“I don’t really see how that makes much of a difference. I don’t even like fighting.”

“That’s a pretty bold claim for someone around level 2000.”

“It’s true!” said Sylvia. “The only reason I ever leveled was ‘cause I was bored.”

“Doubt it even helps much unless you’re a specific kind of crazy.”

“Mmmnnn… yeah. I never really thought it was all that fun,” said the fox. “But it beat doing nothing or hanging out with my parents. Or my great-grandpa because he gets kinda weird sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’d imagine.” The raccoon leaned back and planted his hands in the snow. “Say, Sylvia.”

“Mhm?”

“You do love Claire, right?”

“H-huh!? W-where’d that come from!?”

“Just answer the damn question.”

“W-why should I?”

“It’s important. Real important.”

The fox slowly buried her face in the snow and forcibly cooled herself off as she spoke. “Y-yeah. I think so.”

“Then would you do anything for her?”

“Uhmmm… what’s that supposed to mean?” She dug her face out of the makeshift ice bucket and cast a suspicious glare. Panda, however, was unflinching. His mind as unreadable as his lazy expression, he simply returned her gaze.

“I don’t really know what to tell you. It’s pretty self-explanatory to me,” he said. “Either you’re willing to do literally anything for her or you aren’t.”

“I-I mean, I get that part. But I mean it kinda depends on what you’re asking.”

“Am I hearing a no?”

“Well, uhm… maybe? I’m not sure.”

Panda sighed. “Well, that’s one bet lost. Here I was pretty much convinced that you were the type to naively jump into a shakedown.”

“What the heck!? That’s just rude.”

“Not my fault you act the way you do,” he said, with a shrug. “Anyway, back on topic.” Lifting his legs back over the ledge, he spun around and faced her. “You see, there’s a special little thing in these mountains that happens to be a little bit more than a dungeon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you know how dungeons are trials? The goddess of the frozen wilds just so happens to have her true divine trial sitting smack in the middle of the range.”

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Sylvia blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Yup. And it just so happens to be where we were planning to end our little excursion. I was originally thinking we could head over by the end of winter, but by the looks of it, you’re pretty much set already,” he said. “I was thinking you could get a little bit of a head start and maybe even run it all the way through before everyone else is done,” he said. “Do that, I’ll be able to tell you everything.”

Sylvia blinked. “Everything?”

“Yeah, everything. You’ll learn all about Claire, her daddy issues, and even her feelings for you.”

“H-huh?” Sylvia reddened in an instant. “H-her feelings?”

“Aye, aye. It’s a whole treasure trove of information. You wouldn’t want to miss out now, would you?”

Sylvia paused for a moment before shaking her head of all the rosy thoughts that followed. “Wait a second… What does this have to do with me liking and being willing to do things for her again?”

“Nothing really,” said Panda. “I just thought it’d be funny to ask.”

He broke into laughter immediately upon noticing the fox’s indignant stare.

“What the heck!? You’re such a jerk!”

“Oh, come on. Relax,” he said, with another chuckle. “How about I make it up to you?” He was given another skeptical look, but he shrugged it off without a care in the world. “I could tell you how she’d act if she fell in love with you.”

Sylvia returned to her snowy den with a groan. “Ugh… Stop teasing me. Just leave me alone already.”

“Don’t be so cold. What if I said she’s exhibiting one telltale behaviour already?”

The fox said nothing, but she couldn’t stop her tail from twitching.

“Well?” asked Panda. “You want to hear it or not? I don’t mind packing up and leaving. Especially since, you know, I’m kind of doing you a favour in the first place.”

Sylvia still didn’t say anything, but she reluctantly dragged herself out of the tunnel and shifted her gaze towards him.

“The most obvious sign is that she talks to you.”

“Uhhmmmmm… I don’t really know what that’s supposed to mean.”

“It’s pretty self explanatory, really. She doesn’t talk to people she hates. Therefore, if she were to be in love with someone, she would clearly speak to them.”

“...”

Sylvia stared for a few seconds before lunging at the pest and opening her jaws wide.

But having already anticipated the action, Panda leapt out of the way and vanished into the aether, a cackle on his lips all the while.

___

Claire continued to plough through the wolves, tackling them two, three, four at a time as she gained levels hand over fist. They were all too easily abusable. While they didn't give full experience until a few seconds after their tails were lopped, the wounds they suffered persisted through the change in their power. Coincidentally, a faint hint of true ice was more than enough to suppress them. Freezing their calves to their thighs and their tails to their teeth assured an easy finish.

She wasn't the only one going ballistic. On the chicken's side, there was Honkarg the flamingo, Barkleigh the gecko, and Quackers the chicken. All three were blasting their way through one-tailed wolves with ease.

But while they certainly prepared more quantity than quality, the invaders were hardly without noteworthy combatants. Most prominent of the bunch was a wolf who wielded his wand like a scythe. Even without any of his tails removed, he was running around the battlefield like a madman, cackling as he reaped friend and foe alike. Trailing slightly behind in kills was his polar opposite—a wolf with black fur marched calmly through the lines and slaughtered every bird and lizard that refused to make way. She culled her own tails, removing them every time they regenerated as if it were only natural. And then there was the silver-furred man whose face was buried in his neck. His body was a short, stubby tube, and the only part of his face was tucked so far inside of his fur that he was without a line of sight. Even his foot was missing, leaving him to get around by way of randomly rolling.

Of all of the creatures present on the battlefield, he was clearly the one that looked the dumbest.

And yet, he was undefeated.

Everything that approached him was vacuumed into his cylinder and never seen again. If not for the crunches that followed and the bones he spat, their fates may very well have been unknown.

He was the one that Claire decided to approach. All she needed to do was cancel out his vectors and deliver Boris through the tip of his nose. It was a simple but surefire solution. She was so confident in its execution that she began contemplating the scythe-wielder’s death, but the realm shook before she could close the distance.

There was a loud creaking, a booming, metallic groan that rang with such volume that it left the world dead silent. A sharp pain pulsed through the depths of her skull as her whole body was assaulted by a blast of something. The blinding light that went off in the distance was a mix of vibrant colours. Bright greens pushed against vibrant yellows while deep blues swallowed dark reds.

Her head was spinning so violently that she was unsure when she’d been pushed to the ground. And for a moment, it almost seemed like her consciousness might slip away. But gritting her teeth, she held steadfast and rose to her feet. Many of the others were still standing, some were even still fighting, and Claire refused to be ranked among the inferior.

She grabbed Boris with a vector and rose back into the sky. She was nearly thrown adrift by another blast, but she transferred her momentum to a grain of sand blown in from the crowned wolf’s desert.

The particle ripped straight through the wolf that chased her skyward. It didn’t die, but she couldn’t be bothered to finish it. Her eyes still set on the vector dog, she extended her wings and prepared to navigate the storm. Alas, she made no progress.

A trio of flashes filled her vision, each brighter and heavier than the last. The perpetrators were picking up the pace, skyrocketing the rate of their exchanges.

Not every trade resulted in a shockwave. For the most part, Zottsgarb was dancing around his foe, never attacking even when he clearly had the chance. Even blocking seemed fairly low on his list. He only did it as a last resort and otherwise spent his time toying with the dog.

The tomfoolery lasted until she grew wrathful enough to tear off her tails. By increasing the speed and strength of her blows, she had finally forced him into blocking more often.

They were so fast that Claire’s eyes struggled to catch them. Their weapons were blurs. She could make out their rough motions, but all of the nuance was lost to their ridiculous acceleration. It was like their startups led straight into their recoveries. If not for the shockwave and their billowing magics, the moments of impact would have been imperceptible.

Flashy as the battle was—the magic that accompanied their strikes literally tore apart their realms and returned them to the mountains—it lasted but for a moment. In roughly fifteen seconds, they traded well over a thousand blows. He gave his beak for one of her eyes, while she sacrificed her jaw for one of his wings. A nose for a leg, an arm for a wing. Over and over their weapons drew blood, until the final exchange.

Both fighters stabbed each other through and fired blasts of magic from the tips of their weapons. The wounds looked fatal, but both monarchs got back to their feet and took up their arms again regardless.

For a moment, that was how they stayed. They stood on guard, ready for the inevitable exchange. But then, the rooster laughed and the wolf collapsed.

“Lesson. Instructed. Lunacy. Proven.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” cried the wolf.

“Maybe. When. You. Victorious.” With how bloody their minions’ battles had been, Claire had expected the masters to opt for execution. But despite emerging victorious, the chicken simply sheathed his sword and sat down beside the cut-up dog.

“Prize.”

“It’s in the usual place,” grumbled the wolf. “Just you wait. I’ll get you next month.”

“Good. Luck. Will. Need.”

Claire continued to watch them for a few seconds before assuming her tiniest form and starting towards the north. The way they spoke like old friends had tickled something in her chest. She couldn’t help but feel like she missed her fox, and even some of the others.

There was still much to learn under Zottsgarb, and she had yet to earn his approval. But meeting the chicken’s gaze, she found herself greeted with a nod. He smiled with what was left of his beak, and with a light brush of the remaining wing, created a gust that sent her on her way.

He seemed to know it as well.

It was time for Claire to go.

She didn’t offer her thanks. She didn’t say goodbye to any of the other disciples either. Simply setting her eyes upon the distant peaks, she soared beyond the horizon.