Wow. Just wow. That’s a level of cocky I feel like I haven’t seen in a long time–if at all. I’d like to think this means they aren’t from the Preservation, since they should have a healthy fear of me, but they’re complete mysteries right now. Can’t risk them being extremely powerful compared to everyone else I’ve fought.
“I’d prefer not to die at all, thank you very much.” I flip a projectile into my hand, then aim it directly at the masked attacker. “Mind talking while we fight so I don’t have to worry about keeping you conscious?”
The attacker snorts in amusement. “Looks like we got a live one this time, boys. Show her the kind of hospitality she should’ve gotten the moment she stepped foot into the city.”
With a snap of their fingers, the first attacker creates a puff of magic that slips down into their pocket knife like a lance of wind. It saturates the red-plated thing in a single heartbeat with a sensation akin to hearing a sharp knife slice through empty air, and my awareness instantly warns me not to let that thing touch me.
Not a moment passes before I feel something behind me, and I flare two shields just to be sure. Emerald green energy washes over me, filled with a scent like wet moss and a tingling numbness that reminds me of the aftershocks of banging my elbow on a sharp doorframe. I grimace and extend the second shield into the dirt just a little to make sure the stuff can’t seep through, then spin on my heel to get a good look at the one who did it.
A strange, mossy lantern dangles from nose-mask’s left hand. Branches, brambles, and roots crackle and shimmer like flames, holding up an ovaline rock that’s absolutely coated in moss that radiates magic that feels exactly like the attack. Unless they’re masters of misdirection, that’s the one. Probably a plant-related class like… a druid, or a botanist, or whatever the system decided to name that classification of class.
Pearl sniffs the air then wrinkles her nose. “It’s a mild numbing agent, hallucinogen, and a… whatever they call those things that make you have an allergic reaction, but that you don’t have to be allergic to. Irritant? I think that’s right. It’s a really strong irritant.”
I raise my hands into a combat-ready pose, even though I really don’t need to. “Should purification work on it?”
“Mm…” Pearl hums in thought, then shakes her head. “We don’t know how strong they are, and that’s probably part of their strategy. Don’t count on purification working.”
“Gotcha.”
With a flick of my fingers, I launch a concentrated projectile straight at the lantern. Nose-mask grunts and jumps out of the way as fast as they can, but my projectile still nicks the lantern’s base and shears a divot into the material. Circlet waves a hand behind me, then makes a few gestures that have no meaning to me.
Both nose-mask and eyepatch-mask nod ever so slightly and back up at the same time. Neither of them make any motions that would signal they’re going to go for Clutter instead, but I wouldn’t put it past someone who comes at me with such an obvious desire to kill. Nose-mask recovers quickly, and so does his lantern–dirt rises from the ground to fill in the destroyed piece, and it starts to glow bright with magic once more.
“I’ll give you this–you’re way stronger than your clearance suggests.” Forehead-mask says casually and flips open one of the pocket-knife’s attachments; a tiny flathead screwdriver. For some reason that action alone flares his magic to high heaven. “Good thing me and the boys did some research, or else we’d be caught with our pants around our ankles just like Rouge and her guards were. Mind me asking what you did to piss off a wealthy patron so much they’re paying top dollar for your head?”
I blink in surprise. A conversation wasn’t where I was expecting this to go. “For this particular instance, no. I have absolutely no goddamn idea.”
“Hm. That’s too bad–the requisition didn’t say so either. Just ‘kill this woman and her Paindne companion’. Welp, looks like that’s all the time for chatter we’ve got, so how about we get this dance underway?” He points the screwdriver at me and grins. “I’ve been wanting to try this out on something strong enough to hold on for more than a few seconds.”
Magic wells up in his hand, coating it like a thick glove. Strands of it scurry up his arm and snake under his shirt, then cement themselves in his pectoral and back muscles for… reinforcement, I guess? My awareness screams at me to get out of the way, but a glance over my shoulder at the other two–who haven’t attacked since the initial green wave–makes me hesitate.
Their postures are way too casual. Their smiles are as confident as anything. It isn’t caution or fear that’s stopping them–it’s that they believe forehead-mask can easily take me one-on-one. Even after their self-proclaimed ‘research’ into my abilities. Honestly, I have to admit… I’m a little curious myself. How new is their info? Am I really that much stronger than I was before I became Fleur’s god?
Now’s the perfect time to test it all out. Besies, Pearl would’ve already yelled at me if we were in mortal danger.
I extend a hand and flick my fingers as a show of challenge. “Bring it.”
Forehead-mask’s smile blossoms with mirth. “That’s my kind of fighter! Let’s go this, girl!”
With a jab of their arm, unimaginable weight shoves against my shield. My eye twitches in surprise at the sudden attack–this feeling reminds me of the corpsedragger’s teleporting rushes from months ago. But if I’m actually stronger now, this attack has to be stronger to give me the same sensation. And considering they’re using the screwdriver attachment, I’m not sure this is the end.
“Nice! Nice! NICE!” Forehead-mask laughs gleefully. “Those are some top-shelf shields you’ve got there! For blocking this alone, I’d give you a twenty eight–maybe even a thirty. But let’s see how you deal with a TWIST!”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
As they speak, they wrench their hand all the way around. Ligaments stretch, bone creaks, and skin whirls around the unnatural motion. And the force pushing against my shield twists all the same. It scrapes, shears, and tries with all its might to get the tiniest foothold in the barrier so it can be wrenched open with the motion.
I clench my teeth and smooth the shield out as smooth as it can go. Forehead mask never stops laughing as their hand twists around and around and around, winding up the skin on their forearm to a frankly disgusting pile of wrinkles and abrasions. But their screw attack never once finds purchase, and their twist slowly comes to an end.
Slowly, I loosen the muscles in my jaw. “Couldn’t break it. What’s next?”
They draw their hand back. “A follow-up.”
Noises like the roar of a biological lawnmower burst to life as the magic protecting forehead-mask’s arm comes undone all at once. It snaps back like a rubber band, and as it hits the twisted skin, their hand begins to spin in the opposite direction. The head of the screwdriver spins so fast all I can see is a blur, and I swallow hard as I summon two more coins to fill with shields.
If I can withstand this, maybe these guys will just leave. They’re already watching their boss fight without intruding, so it’s not like they’re taking this unbelievably seriously. Or maybe this is completely serious, and if this attack doesn’t break my shield, then they know they can’t get me. I take a deep breath, flip a new shield into my palm, and visualize a very small but insanely dense barrier.
It’ll hold. It’ll have to.
The emanation of magic screams ahead with forehead-mask’s whirling hand. I toss out my shield, as dense as I can make a foot-by-foot shield, and it flickers to life just in front of my heavily damaged previous one. Sound and magic erupt at the clash of spells, a shearing roar that digs into my ears as sparks fly from my shield and the not-quite-invisible attack.
Forehead-mask’s manic grin widens. Their laughter echoes over the roar of the clash, long and uneven and punctuated by gasping breaths that sound dangerously close to ecstasy. I frown as my awareness truly takes hold of my shield, and from the looks of it, the attack’s doing… next to nothing. A few punches would be more damaging.
Something’s… off. I narrow my eyes at forehead-mask and flex my fingers as I try to feel around me with my awareness. Nose-mask and eyepatch-mask are still there. All the sparks from the spell are just that–sparks, and they’re just disappearing into the wind. There’s literally nothing I can feel that’s off.
“The hell is going on?” I murmur and gently reach up to tap Pearl’s shell to let her know the question is directed at her. “How did their first attack do more damage than this one?”
“I… wish I knew the answer myself.” She says slowly. “Something’s definitely off. But nobody’s even gone close to Clutter, so they’re not after him. Do you think they’re just using him as a distraction?”
That’s about what I was thinking, but if they’re using forehead-mask as a distraction, then what the hell are they a distraction from? Not Clutter, not to cast a spell… so what’s left? Wasting time for reinforcements? I’d be more willing to believe that if forehead-mask hadn’t gone all out from the start, and then pulled back significantly. Do they want me to realize they’re holding back? What do they get from that?
With a frown and a shake of my head, I come to terms with the fact that I won’t know the truth. So I just have to act. I summon two more shields, drop a purification at my feet, and step out from behind the shield that’s being assaulted by forehead-mask’s attack.
They tilt their head to the side when they see me stepping aside, and in an instant, they stop laughing. But their face doesn’t shift to disbelief of confusion or even frustration; it’s pure nothing. Neutral, almost like we just started a brand new conversation. The tonal whiplash almost sends me reeling.
“Should’ve just stayed there.” They say with barely any emotion at all. “We haven’t wasted enough time yet. Can’t you realize that?”
I… just… what?
“What the hell are you talking about? Is there some grand thing going on here that everyone but me is in on?” I spread my arms and motion at forehead-mask while I look back at the other two. “Because you’re doing a really shitty job of killing me right now, and the fact I even have to say that is goddamn confusing.”
Eyepatch-mask shrugs. “Part of the job. Intimidation, information gathering, whatever else. Assassination doesn’t pay great, you know.”
“...It doesn’t?”
A laugh rips from forehead-mask’s throat. “Of course it doesn’t! There’s an entire partial class built around it, so you’ve got dozens of people frothing at the mouth for a chance to wet their blades. Scouts like your friend in the monster are way more valuable, since the system doesn’t give out permission for those skills all willy-nilly.”
“Mmhm.” Nose-mask leans on their lantern and stares at me. “See, it’s much more profitable to get some info for the actual assassins to do their jobs later. And now we’ve got a pretty comprehensive profile built up on a prime suspect-you. Come next week, you’re gonna have a hard time walking around without someone lobbing a spell at you. No hard feelings?”
“This… it was… I…” I turn on my heel to stare at forehead-mask. “Who the hell do you work for, then?”
They shrug. “Whoever’s paying. Well, it’s actually a little more complicated than that, but you don’t want to get into that conversation with just a few hours left before your quest’s deadline. Since we’re about to make a lot of Worth off of you, I’ll give you a little piece of advice before we leave; whatever you’re using to sense people can be tricked. Not easily, sure, but anyone who can actually trick it are the ones you have to look out for.”
With a flick of their knife, forehead-mask closes the screwdriver attachment and swaps it for the actual knife. They run their thumb down the length, a thin line of blood soaking the edge, and they gently flick it in the direction of my stronger shield.
It splits in two. Pearl gasps loud enough that it almost matches my own, and I feel my awareness lose connection to the thing even though it’s still there. I feel a trio of magical flares, but with the new knowledge that whoever those three were can hide from me, it feels like they’re pitying me. A quick glance around confirms that they just left.
I curl my hands into fists. If anyone else was here to see me, they wouldn’t even know that I was just dealt my first real loss by another class-bearer. The way they said I had strong shields, all that posturing… it was just for show. Hell, that green stuff was probably that weak on purpose.
“Did we get anything from that?” I ask Pearl, my voice taut with every word.
She’s silent for a good long while before she eventually answers. “We learned that my awareness was weakened much more than I thought it was. That’s really dangerous, Shelby, because I don’t even know what we’ve missed so far.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” I grumble and stick my hands into my pockets. “Now every asshole’s going to know about me–and if they’ve actually been following me from the shadows, they might even know about you.”