“What the heck are you doing her–”
Karla embraced Elia in a crushing hug before she could even finish her sentence.
“Don’t ever leave like that again. Are you hurt? You are!”
Elia imagined her ribs going pop against Karla’s superheavy armor. She could practically feel the Mayalena boring a hole in the back of her head.
“Another princess?” she asked. “Well… well met.”
“Well met, fellow princess,” Karla said, squeezing Elia once more. “This one is mine.”
“There aren’t many true knights left these days. You ought to share.”
“No. I called dibs first.”
“Air. Please.” Karla finally released her, and Elia thankfully accepted her bottle of bowl water. Karla was not alone. She had brought just about anyone she ever could expect to be here. Cesare and Zane were here, but so was Mouggen and the Vili lady from Crossroad Temple, Avice. “How did you even find me?”
“There is an old path that leads down Glenrock,” Avice said. “It is how I managed to escape, once upon a time.”
“And you’re here for what?”
“Revenge.” Her voice was cold and solid. “But upon hearing how my benefactor was in need, I simply could not wait.”
“I asked around,” Karla said, as another voice cut in. “There was much justice to be balanced.”
“Oh. Hello not-Karla,” Elia said, slightly confused. “Umm, are you two fine or…”
Karla made like a bobble-head figure. “We have an agreement. You were right, or rather, Rye was. We needed to talk with ourselves and balance ourselves against each other first. This is a temporary fix. Anyhow, you’d be surprised at how many people were willing to help when we said you were in danger.”
In the background, a bekki yowled.
“Lim?”
And Pim too. Did you know that he was an emperor, allegedly?
“Stabby-Elia!” said the bekki woman, who looked much better than the last time they had met. Lim leveled a single finger at her. “Stinky!”
“What?”
“She means to say that you’re a good friend, and that we owe you our freedom.” Pim nodded sagely. The bekki was carrying him close on her back like a backpack.
Karla just smiled. “See? You don’t have to do everything alone. You can ask your friends.”
Elia looked on, puzzled. “I have… friends? I mean, sure I do, but so many?”
“Well, what else are all these people following you then?” Mouggen asked.
Elia looked behind her, the colorful assembly of prisoners waiting politely on her to carry on. The giant shot her a thumbs up.
“Fellow political prisoners?”
Cesare walked up, clearing his throat. “I don’t mean to rain on your reunion, but The Wolf cannot hold off The Rhuna forever. And she is not the only thing we ought to worry about.”
“Wolfy is fighting Rhuna? Alone? And he’s not dead yet? That means…” She shot to her feet. “We need to go now.”
“I’m glad that you’ve come to reason… wait where are you going?” He hurried after her. “That is the wrong way.”
“To Rhuna.”
“To do what?” he asked.
“To push her granite shit in.”
“Like a raid?” Karla asked.
“Like the biggest raid you’ve ever witnessed. But we’ll need some gear first.”
“The armory is around the next left turn,” Mayalena helpfully pointed out.
That’s where Rhuna put our stuff. If you find it, there’s a surprise waiting for you.
Elia hurried down the corridor and the friends followed after. By necessity, so did the rest of the prisoners. The thrum of so many feet trampling on the ground filled her with a sense of power. A squad of Rhuna’s dregs rounded the corner and they barreled right through them.
We’re making good time, the armory should be just around–
Elia skidded to a halt as a burning blade descended upon her, [Frog leap]ing to the side and out of the way. Some prisoners were not so lucky and the unknown knight cut into them with savage strikes that filled the air with tearing sounds.
“I am The Windrider, blessed by the late Kao-Joo,” he said. “None shall tread in this holy city of ours.”
Karla charged him, blocking a drill made of air and smashing into him. The damage was minimal and the knight was still blocking their way. They did not have time for a boss battle now, let alone a battle of attrition.
“There is no hope for foul usurpers, and enemies of Loften. Long live Loften. Long live The Rhu–”
All of a sudden a hulking figure tackled him. The giant groaned in a low, hollow voice as he drove The Windrider into the wall, repeatedly smashing him with his shoulders.
“That’s one way to deal with it I guess,” Elia said, moving along. He seemed like he had it handled.
He’s buying us time. Don’t spend it frivolously.
“I know.” With the help of Karla, they pushed the gate to the main loot room open. There, hundreds of weapons and armors were tossed into yet to be sorted piles. The prisoners decapitated the dreg tallying everything at his little table and practically fell over themselves as they dove into the loot, taking spears and knives and staves and more.
Oh no, it’s going to take forever to find our bags.
“I’ll just have to start digging.”
Elia began sifting through the loot, quickly. Cesare walked up to her. He did not look like he was here to help her find her stuff.
“We have to leave, now. There’s a legion of burning legionnaires approaching, and I heard envoys of tar have crossed into High Loften proper. We do not want to be caught up in a fight between the three pretender lords of Loften.”
“Wait, why is all this happening now?”
“She left her flanks open. The Rhuna really ought not to have rushed her little excursion into the pact. Seems to me that even she can’t ignore basic things such as logistics, or tactics.” He tried to grin, but the worry was pressing his lips together. “And yet one has to wonder why she isn’t worried.”
“She has an artifact,” Rye said, popping half her body out of Elia. “It’s some sort of… faux chalice of wishes. It’s made of grail shards, big ones too.”
“See?” Cesare said. “You’ve got no chance, none I tell you.”
“If she can’t smite someone without the help of some item, then she’s not a real god. I bet ten-thousand souls that it’s got some sort of limitation, or condition. It’s a crutch.”
“It also froze a bunch of very mean looking tar knights in time.”
“See? Listen to your other half!” said Cesare, exasperated.
“But I agree. Someone ought to do something to make the world a better place. Best start by pruning the weeds.”
Elia nodded, swearing as she cut herself on a sword that was practically vibrating with raw violence. “And we’re already in the middle of her home, she won’t expect a strike from behind.”
“She also won’t be bothered by it,” said Cesare. “You do know how hard the white granite she is made of is, right? You can’t wound her, unless you have a plan.”
“Elia always has a plan,” said Rye, before sneaking back into the back seat.
… you do have a plan, don’t you?
Elia tugged at a satchel, then threw it over her head.
Elia, you just flinched.
“I’m gonna be real with you Rye, I never had a plan.”
…what?
“Never. Not once. I don’t do plans, because plans crumble like cookies.”
So, all this time I’ve been putting my life in your hands, and you’ve just been improvising!?
“Pretty much,” Elia sighed, looking at the mountain of loot to every side. “Hey, does someone have a boon to help me search for something I need?”
One of the prisoners raised their hand. They had a nose for loot, and an essence that allowed them to sort by certain criteria. Her pack was under a duo of super heavy greatswords, which Elia found difficult to lift even with her increased strength. When she pulled out the sword hanging from its side, her eyes grew wide as saucers.
W-well, since you’re going to need every advantage you can get… surpriiise! It’s Moonlight, except the old Moonlight was just a broken greatsword. I know how you like your short blades and so I had it reforged.
“Wow.” It was a perfectly straight sword with a single blade, a bit like a ninjatō. The grip was wrapped in faded bands of red. It contrasted with the deep blue of the blade, which was semi translucent as if made from crystal. The handguard spoke of old age like a refined butler ready to receive orders. “I think I’m tearing up.”
Try guiding some reservoir into it.
She did, and felt it eat greedily at her reserves. The translucent blade started to glow with a faint hum. She pushed in more and a surge of solid light shot out, searing a hole in the fresco above.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Do you like it?
“Like it?” Elia laughed, making lightsaber noises. “I love it. I love you. I love everyone. I love having friends. I dub thee… Moony, the moon sword. This is the best day of my life.”
“Then maybe you should make sure it also isn’t your last day,” Cesare hissed as a distant impact echoed through the walls. “There are more and more dregs coming in, it wouldn’t surprise me if Rhuna was right behind. We need to get you and Karla out; Nali has already secured a hidden bowl and without you, we have no chance of ascending the–”
Another impact shook the building, this time from much closer. The ceiling bulged inwards before the stone regained its rigidity and shattered. A spray of rocks pelted everyone as a black-furred monstrosity crashed to the floor. It groaned, gripping its twisted sword in a sharp-clawed hand.
Is that The Wolf? That greatsword almost looks like a dagger compared to him.
“Shit, shit, shiiit,” Elia said as the monster seemed to shrink, growing more human. “I didn’t think he’d lose so soon. We need a tank, otherwise Rhuna is just going to–”
Another body, that of the giant with the pot head, slammed right on top of the Wolf, a ten foot golden spear protruding from his belly.
“Heya frenemie,” a booming voice came from above. Rhuna’s massive figure jumped through the hole, the floor distending to catch her fall with barely a sound. “Are you stealin’ my shit?”
“...no.”
“’Cause it looks like you’re stealing my shit.” She wrenched her spear from the giant with a disgusting sound. “Imma be real, not the smartest move.”
Elia flinched. Of all the fights she had gotten in over her head in, this was probably going to be the worst. But when faced with adversity, impossible odds only made her want to defy them more. She smiled, nervously, with the kind of bravado only the insane could back up.
“Yeah, well, sorry, in between the torture and the terrible odds, this is just business as usual for me.” Elia flipped Rhuna the bird. “You’re just a stepping stone, an overgrown cat with an overblown ego, and I’m used to looking up. First it was Hall, then it’ll be you, and soon, the god who screwed me over.”
Aurana is furious. Valti is smirking.
Rhuna’s eye twitched. “I am going to start hurting you now.”
You have challenged. The Rhuna, Warden of High Loften and all beneath Our Sun
----------------------------------------
The first thing Elia heard was the music. The strings that had been jittering quietly along suddenly reached a crescendo in turn with a choir and a wall of brass. It was a cry, heralding a great and triumphant hero of legend. It was not playing for her. That was Rhuna’s [Threat music] after all, and the gods were proving biased.
Aurana cheers her champion on.
Elia elected to ignore any further divine commentary. Most of the prisoners had scattered. They all knew what Rhuna was like. Maybe they made the smart choice. But some few had stayed and Elia was thankful for any bit of support. She ran up next to Karla, who with her superheavy armor made for an imposing figure.
I’m shooting a javelin.
The air grew frigid around her as three javelins took shape within seconds. Lim hissed as she drew her bow back.
“Hey, is that Karla?” Rhuna asked. “What’s up my favorite golden goose! Wow, that is some nice armor. Mind if I… [Yoink!] it?”
Karla’s helmet plopped into Rhuna’s hand, who eyed it like a piece of candy.
Loose!
Three javelins with fins shot towards her, as did a rapidfire stream of large arrows. They shattered against Rhuna’s chest, who looked down at her slightly pitted stone skin. With a flex of her boon, the small marks disappeared.
“You’ll have to do better than that.” With a single leap she was right on top of them. “My turn.”
Elia ducked below the dull end of her spear, used [Frog leap] to vault a swipe of the sharp end, then parried a stab mid-air, giving her an opening to cut Rhuna’s head off. She only hit a glancing blow along the brow, as the lion-woman twisted unnaturally and swerved out of the way of a dozen attacks. She almost looked cartoonish if it weren’t for the immense sound that followed every swing, implying weight, and danger beyond reckoning every time it brushed past Elia’s cheek.
A thrown underhanded boulder exploding like a grenade spooked Lim enough that she ran far down the corridor, only daring to peek out for the odd potshot. Rhuna ignored Karla’s jagged sword, and cut Mouggen in half just as easily as she outpaced the three-armed Viln woman at spearplay.
“Is that all?” she asked.
A cloud of cottony floof encased her head, disorienting her for the brief second that Cesare needed to pull Mouggen back for some healing.
He still lost an arm to an unerringly accurate stab-cut.
Elia jumped in, but could not find an opening that did not feel like a trap. When she did leap forward, her shield ring activated and she immediately ate dirt as a three-inch nub of ground jutted out right in front of her foot.
“Haha, [Stubbed your toe]!” Rhuna cackled. “Your boons can’t match mine, not even with so many of you. I’m optimized, I’m min-maxed, I’m awesome and you’re not! [Yoink!]”
Karla’s shield, which was already battered, landed in Rhuna’s hands, who used it as a Frisbee, decapitating the just reconstituted Mouggen.
They were losing, badly, and quickly. Further out, the prisoners who had run away sounded like they had happened upon some of Rhuna’s patrols. If they added their weight to the equation, then things might really turn way past sour.
Elia backed off, surveilling the situation, watching Karla just pick up a random shield that was lying around. That gave her an idea.
She went through the piles of consumables, throwing knives and short daggers, tossing explosive conches and ones that released acid and little maggot-worms in Rhuna’s general direction. There were weapons that felt alive, weapons that returned to her hands after throwing them, and through it all Rye kept up an increasing stream of modified hailstone javelins.
One of them smacked Rhuna up the top of her head, which finally got her attention.
“I can do that too!” Rhuna said and nearly skewered her with a tossed spear. She flinched as Karla jumped into the opening, kicking her knee with all her might. But she did not stumble, riposting with a solid jab to the chest.
She’s invincible.
“It’s even worse. She’s got reach, strength, speed, and clearly knows how to fight while outnumbered.”
She fights like you.
“She…” Elia bit her lip. “She’s better.”
Elia wiped some blood from her lips as Rhuna suddenly switched to Karla, punching dents into her new shield and laughing all the while. “Karla can’t tank alone. We need a second tank to buy more time.”
What about that giant friend of yours?
“He’s down, skewered right above the Wolf…” Elia turned to see the giant sitting upright. The wound in his chest was closing with every beat of his heart. He was staring lost at a shard of the jar he had been wearing on his head.
Elia hurried over to him. All the other prisoners had either left or were being bogged down by the fighting in the hallways.
“How are you alive? Why aren’t you beating the snot out of Rhuna?”
“Shame,” he mumbled distantly. “Weak.”
His chest was glowing, and he was giving off heat like a furnace. There was fight left in his body. He just didn’t feel like putting in 120 percent.
“Get up!” Elia tried to pull him onto his legs, but it was like trying to move a mountain.
I think Rhuna killing him made him depressed. Maybe that’s why they didn’t bother to remake the bars on his cell.
She slapped him across his cheeks.
“Wake. The fuck. Up.”
“Why fight? You all undead. Life, no purpose. Death, no meaning.”
“I want to live. I can’t if she doesn’t die!” She pointed to Rhuna, who was currently air-comboing Karla with a series of kicks. “If you’re going to be a nihilist, then at least have the courtesy to go and die over there!”
He shook his head. “Don’t understand. But Brod can die. Brod good at dying.”
With a jog that turned into a run, he impacted the lioness, actually managing to lift her off her feet.
So, his name is Brod… Wait, where have I heard that name before?
“Doesn’t matter, glad he’s on our side.” She pushed a bottle of bowl water down the Wolf’s throat. He did not so much as twitch as most of it disappeared down his gullet. With a curse, she ran off, electing to help Karla stand while the giant and Rhuna exchanged blows. “You alright?”
“I… have the smallest of concussions,” Karla said. She was slurring her words slightly, even before Elia gave her the rest of her bowl water.
“Can you hold her off for another minute?”
Karla made a nervous sound. “I’ll try my best. Though this sister has no bones nor flesh, we shall find ways to dispense much justice.”
Elia watched her and a newly re-knitted Mouggen join the fray. With the giant, she was confident they could hold out until she found something to turn the tides. Even with her sword Moony, her normal [Cutting Cutlery] was just not enough.
“Where are the essences stored?”
The side room over there.
“Coward!” Rhuna yelled as Elia disappeared into it. “I knew you were only pretending to care about your friends. Look at them, wasting consumables, getting in the way, taking so much loot for themselves. They’re worthless!”
Elia ignored her. But as she reached the room, she took one look at the hundreds of marbles that had jumped out of their neatly labeled boxes, and despaired.
“Shit. Shit!” she grabbed one.
Essence of smells
“Nope.” Elia flung it to the side.
Essence of weight
Not what you’re looking for?
Elia grunted, pocketing it before picking through a dozen others. There had to be something here she could use, something like an essence of sharpness, or steel, or killing Rhuna.
The sounds of the fight changed in tone, which could not be a good sign. They were out of time, and Elia hadn’t found anything that would guarantee the kind of upgrade she needed. She plucked the best one from her small collection, and plopped it down the hatch.
Essence of challenge
The essence fizzed and popped. Looking up [Cutting Cutlery], it had added instead of changed one significant sentence.
Relishing the challenge of a great feast, your skills with cutlery and their sharpness rise in turn with the difficulty of your quarry.
There was nothing more difficult than cutting a statue made of moving, living stone.
“This is it,” Elia muttered. “We can do this.”
In one leap she was out of the side room. In the next, she was bouncing off a wall. She jumped and boosted her speed ever higher, like she’d done against Rhuna’s favorite moonstrider. The woman in question seemed busy, her back wide open as she pushed the giant onto one knee.
It was too perfect of a setup. But Elia spotted the tripping rock poking out of the ground, jumping right over it.
Right!
A dreg barreled into her, and she felt the bite of steel across her left arm. It clung to her like a limpet, but before she could stumble, the dreg’s eyes rolled over and it slackened, falling to the ground in a snoring heap.
I’ve got your back!
Even as she felt her bones creak, Elia took that one final leap. She poured her reservoir into her sword until it could not hold any more. Rhuna was not even looking when she landed on her back and buried her sword through her neck, then released a wave of moonlight that blasted it right out of its socket.
The stone head sailed through the air in silence. Everyone felt the impact like a thud in their hearts. Karla looked relieved, even through her armor.
“Did we do it? Are you hurt? Come down, let me see you.”
“I can’t.” Elia said. “Shit, I’m stuck, I–”
A hundred little hands were holding her in place. They writhed and twisted, her foot creaking as they pulled her towards the marble body that was still standing.
“Oh Elia~,” said Rhuna, a face with a twisted evil grin forming on her back. “Did you forget that I’m a shapeshifter?”
With an unnatural twist of her arm, Rhuna peeled Elia off and tossed her straight through a wall.
----------------------------------------
Rye’s hazy form rose from Elia, who was slowly turning from a putty-shaped person back into a normal person.
“Urgh,” Elia said, “Fuck.”
Rye watched in horror as a noodle-y arm snapped back into place, twisted and broken bone jutting out the skin. Elia screamed and it was all Rye could do not to scream herself.
Rhuna was ten times stronger than they thought, and a hundred times more cruel. She hadn’t even used her shard of shapes through the entire fight. From the attack on the pact to the ‘video game’ at the coliseum to this, everything was just one big game for her.
And as always, Rye was useless. Her conjured ice was not hard enough to pierce her defenses. It was the only thing that made her willing to go for lethal shots. Even with all this anger, the thought of murdering an actual, real person still made her stomach churn.
She couldn’t shake who she was, even if that meant she was weak, and afraid.
Hope seemed to run thinner by the moment. Karla was struggling to move from where she was embedded in the ceiling. Mouggen had died for the third time in five minutes, beaten to death by Rhuna’s severed head which she was using as an improvised flail. The giant was holding her off, his wounds closing in front of her eyes, but he looked like he was running out of steam.
Rye looked around. The room behind the wall Rhuna had thrown them through did not have an obvious door, only a large back entrance. If the weapons in the previous one could be described as magical, then the spiked and golden blades here were legendary.
With a foreign surety in her step Rye walked over the dragon slaying weapons and the armors that almost looked alive. All the whispers of power were nothing compared to the thing before her.
She stopped in front of the one last thing Rhuna had looted from the pact. A statue, large like hubris, and with a face like blasphemy. It was the statue of Rhuna, or rather, a person-shaped prison modeled after the gods.
Touching it with bare hands felt like a sin.
Perhaps one day in the past, ‘The Rhuna’ had been a title for the protector of Loften, a name for a vaunted hero, or a knight before it was twisted by an egocentrist with a god-complex.
Rye clenched a fist, shaking. That was a part of her culture, of her home. Who was to say she couldn’t twist it right back?
She breathed in once and pushed forward, pouring herself into the false effigy of a god. When she opened her eyes, it was no longer difficult to imagine that she had always been one.