Wow, this is probably the last thing I expected to come across after I found the Rusalka, people.
I stand there, somewhat dumbfounded and excited in equal measures. First, the Rusalka comes back my way with more injuries than those I inflicted earlier, making it easy as hell for me to finish her off in moments after fishing her out of the water with my tails. Then, before I have a chance to check out my notifications, BAM, people out of nowhere.
The clearing mist allows the bluish-silver moonlight to shine down on them all, revealing their features in more detail. The group is composed of four people, two men and two women. In the front is a young woman with what looks like animal ears atop her head, with vibrant orange hair cropped short wearing a plain looking brown tunic and pair of trousers, both looking fairly dirty and worn. The most notable thing I see about her is probably a violet necklace or choker around her neck, as it is slightly glowing and sticks out like a sore thumb to me. Next to her is a bald, older man with a grumpy expression, a thick wooden stick in his hands, wearing similar attire to the cat-like woman, but less worn than hers. Behind those two is a middle-aged man with sharp features and dark hair trimmed short, in expensive-looking clothes, his hand on his side resting on what looks like a coil of thin rope. Lastly, in the back, and the one who alerted me to their arrival, is a young woman with long, pale hair in dark leathers, her arm taut as she aims a bow at me.
Noticing this, I quickly stiffen straight and raise my hands up in a calming gesture and call out, “Woah there, easy now. I didn't mean to surprise you. I honestly didn't know that there was anyone even out here, all the buildings I've found have been deserted and inhabited by undead.”
I give an uneasy smile, trying to not scare any of them more than I already have. I mean, if I ran into an eight foot tall demon covered in Rusalka blood, standing above said monster’s decapitated form, I would be a bit scared too. Seconds pass without an arrow being sent my way, though none of the four relax even a little, but I decide to relax myself anyways, dropping my arms and getting into a more comfortable standing position. As I do this, the prickling sensation I associate with being inspected runs down my spine, which I can somehow tell originates from the middle-aged man and the young woman in leather armor both. Feeling this, I decide to return the favor and use [Runic Vision] on all of them.
{Tigerkin: Level ??}
[Highest Stat: Dexterity]
{Thug: Level 38}
[Highest Stat: Strength]
{Trader: Level 42}
[Highest Stat: Mana Control]
{Rogue: Level 35}
[Highest Stat: Dexterity]
As soon as I finish reading over the results, I notice that the man must have liked what he read, because his tense posture relaxes almost immediately, turning towards the leather-clad woman and whispering something to her, at which she nods and turns back, running down the way they came towards Littlecreek. While I am confused by this, I am not given time to dwell on it due to the man finally calling out to me, breaking the silence of their group at last.
“Oi miss! It looks like you’re a little lost, you must’ve gon’ past the wrong side of the Wildlands without realizin’ it. Why don't you come back to town with us, and we can see about getting a noble lady such as you back home.”
He gives me a genial smile, stretching out his arms welcomingly, only to falter as I give him a puzzled expression.
“Uhhh, are you talking about me?” I ask, pointing at myself, the man glancing at my hand as I make the gesture, “I mean, I don't know what is giving you that impression, bu-.” I cut myself off then, realizing my stupidity at last. If he inspected me like I think he did, he would see “Countess” as part of the result, or maybe even my (Lesser Demonic Noble) Title. I smack my forehead as I realize my mistake, the man tracing the path my hand takes as I do so, and before I can correct myself, his attitude suddenly shifts, an unsettling grin taking the place of the helpful smile of before.
“Oh, I get it now. Can't fool my [Detect Sigil] Skill. I guess it's my lucky day today, I won't even need to come up with an excuse as to where you came from now.”
He then calls out to the remaining man and woman in front of him, a sense of foreboding starting to come over me,
“Billy! Kitty! Make sure she doesn't run off! It looks like we found a runaway, and I bet her Master would pay quite a bit o’ gold for her return. Though I don't recognize the Sigil on her hand, so that might be hard to do. Oh well, I don't mind adding such a fine specimen to my collection.”
My blood goes cold at his words, and the {Thug} and {Tigerkin} start to approach me, the latter of which seeming to do so somewhat reluctantly. I don't have time to process much, as I am more worried about what the {Trader} knows, and how he found out about me. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, I am given an answer to my question as the sneering man continues to speak.
“Feel free to break a leg or two to make sure she doesn’t run, Demons can heal from quite a bit of damage. Ember, if she tries fighting back, make sure to protect Billy.” He then addresses me once more after giving out his orders, “As for you, missy, I suggest you come with us quietly, or there’ll be more than this coming your way, [Fresh Branding]”
A slight glow emits from his hand, of which he points towards me, and moments later I scream out in agony as pain erupts from my right hand. Stabbing jolts rapidly come one after the other, as if hundreds of needles press into my skin in seconds, and the next thing I know, I'm on my hands and knees, panting as I try to catch my breath and reorient myself after the blinding pain ceases. As I do so, horror starts to fill me as I notice a black outline on the back of my right hand, a tattoo that wasn't there moments before. One that I am very much familiar with, and which shouldn't exist in this world.
The fresh tattoo is that of a cartoon mouth licking a lollipop, with an outline of a heart surrounding the image. A somewhat simple design, but one I was glad to be free of. This tattoo was one I received back on Earth, and it marks me as one of the Candyland Brothel’s girls. A mark placed on me to make sure that if I tried running away, I would never be able to get far. My breathing starts to get heavier and more rapid, panic coming to me as the supposed {Trader}’s voice enters my ear yet again.
“I'm surprised you actually thought you could hide it by getting it removed. Don't ya know that {Slave Traders} and {Slavemasters} get Skills to detect if someone has been marked by a Sigil so they can locate runaways. The only way to actually remove it is to serve your sentence and have a {Slavemaster} eradicate it completely. Too bad yer a fuckin’ monsterblood and your debt is indefinite, eh?”
Hearing this, my panicked, swirling thoughts suddenly go still. Slowly, I get back to my feet, causing the two people flanking me and trying to get around me to stop in their tracks. Remembering the {Tigerkin}’s earlier expression, I turn back to her and look at her glowing, violet choker once more. Now that she has gotten closer, only a dozen or so feet away at this point, I can now tell what I should have figured out earlier, that her neckwear isn't purple itself, but that it's covered in Runes. Realizing this, I try to get a better look, and it doesn't take long for me to see past the magical inscriptions and see the glinting metal ring covering her neck.
The inn manager left with his wife, leaving their rabbit who had gotten infected behind, but luckily for us they left it chained up in the stable so it wouldn't spread the disease onto the rest of us.
Thumper shakes their head sadly, before turning side to side to give me a good look at the collar.
Thumper’s skull-less body crashes to the ground, the accursed collar falling off of the unimpeded neck.
“Not this time.”
Slowly, with almost robot-like precision, I turn back to the slimy bastard standing dozens of feet away from me as he sends his slave and minion to do his dirty work, and I see the fucker uncoiling what I now realize to be a whip. His mouth opens, probably to spew out more garbage, but I cut him off before he can say another word.
“What fortunate timing.”
“What?” he replies dumbly, a confused expression taking the place of his sleazy grin.
“I mean, just earlier I was thinking of the first person I met in this world. They didn't say much, in fact they said nothing at all. It was somewhat impossible for them to do so since they had been reduced to a rampaging skeleton, trapped in their place of death for who knows how long.”
“What are you goin’ on about, have you gone mad?”
“I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, and before I ran into an undead bitch who showed me a vision of the only person I have ever truly loved, royally pissing me off, I came up with a pretty good idea, if I do say so.”
I untwine my tails from behind me, the limbs rising above, towering even my impressive stature twice-over.
“Thank Iusti for the opportunity to go on a test run,” and I dash towards the nearest target, the Level 38 {Thug} on my left, my tails diving down at him as a golden glow covers them in an instant.
Surprised by my sudden attack, he doesn't have enough time to do more than lift up his club with both arms, intercepting one of my tails as it digs into the thick wood, the other digging into his shoulder, less deeply than I would like. He cries out in pain anyways, but manages to stay standing without too much effort. I hear a hiss of pain from behind me, and before I can even guess as to why the {Tigerkin} girl is hurting, a booming roar fills the clearing and my steps falter as I find myself freezing up for a second unwillingly. That second was more than enough for my opponents, as the {Thug} jumps back after yanking his club away from the tail-tip embedded within, and doing something similar for the one piercing his shoulder. As for the {Tigerkin}, she uses my momentary paralysis to dart past me and get between me and the injured man.
“What are you doing! I'm trying to help you!”
I yell out without thinking of the obvious, but I am soon reminded of that fact as the girl in front of me responds sadly.
“I have to, collar makes me. I know that you don't want to surrender, but please consider it. I don't want to have to hurt you more than I have to, you don't stand a chance against me, I'm Level 50 now. This is not even considering the fact that Pudicity went to retrieve someone who utilizes your bane.”
My bane, what is she talking about?
It takes me a few seconds, but I eventually remember my (Banebreaker) Title, and as I figure out the significance of that, I decide to not correct her by letting her know that I don't have any much problem with the (Holy) Category. It's in my best interest to keep that to myself for now. Instead, I try to buy myself time to figure something out by asking her some questions, seeing as the two men seem satisfied enough to stand back and watch, the {Thug} having retreated back towards the {Trader}, both of which are keeping their distance from me.
“I really don't want to have to fight you if I can help it, is there really no way you can let me past to take care of those two bastards cowering behind a little girl?”
I raise my voice at that last part, hoping to rile the two up so they would come and attack me, getting close enough for me to do something in the process, but my insult doesn't seem to have any real effect. The {Tigerkin} answers my question though, but I don't find the answer very comforting.
“No, hesitating to complete an order causes the collar on my neck to inflict large amounts of pain, and trying to go against an order completely could kill me.”
Drat, that's what I'm trying to avoid having to do myself.
Frustrated, I look down at the accursed item in question, giving it a death glare as I activate [Runic Vision].
(Slave Collar of Phantom Pain):
The mark of a slave, these collars are usually enforced via magical inscriptions to be extremely durable. This collar is inscribed with (Enchantment) magic which brings about pain to coerce its wearer to obey the orders of the one wearing the commanding item. If necessary, the collar will send a large jolt of pain to put the wearer in shock, knocking them unconscious.
I blink, a surprised expression coming onto my face as I finish reading the description. Either she doesn't actually know what her collar does or my Skill is giving me incorrect information, which has never happened to me yet. Nowhere in the description does it mention some sort of kill trigger, but rather that it can knock the person unconscious. In fact, as I keep staring at the collar, the foreign symbols that make up the runes start to become somewhat decipherable to me, and I can somewhat intuitively tell that I can use [Alter Runes] on a couple places, which sprouts the seedling of an idea inside me. But to complete said plan, I need to get my hand on that collar long enough to use my Skill, which I have no idea how long it takes to use since I haven't had the chance to do so before. If I just go over and touch it out of nowhere, the slaver might get suspicious and do something about it, probably giving another annoying order to the {Tigerkin}.
“Okay, I'm tired of thinking about you as ‘the {Tigerkin}’ in my head, can you at least tell me the name of the person I'm about to beat unconscious, or is that against your stupid orders.”
The quickest solution to my problem is to cover up my actions by fighting her, as they have already seen me jump into action in a moment, so this shouldn't be too unusual. Besides, I have no reason to not believe that she is actually Level 50, so even if she is half my size, she is probably tough enough to take a few attacks from me no matter how hard I hit her.
After a few moments pass and my words sink in fully, the {Trader} bursts out in laughter at my bravado, which is a good sign that he at least thinks I am going to actually try to beat his “slave.” As for the girl in question, a tiny bit of life enters into her eyes, of which had been somewhat dazed this entire time, and she answers me after a little bit of hesitation.
“Ember. Feel free to try, though I won't start to hope any time soon.”
With the cheekiest grin I can muster at this moment, I give out my response, leaning down slightly and getting in position to charge at the girl half my height, “Guess I will have to, Ember. After all, it's my turn to bring the hope that I lost long ago.”
Ember got more and more confused the longer she interacted with this strange Demon. She couldn't recall a single time in her life when she had met someone so…so…stupid. Right in front of the crimson-skinned girl is someone over a dozen Levels higher than her, and she has the gall to proclaim that she will knock Ember unconscious? It made the whole situation even worse for Ember, as she now had to subdue this odd girl who was the first person in years to actually treat her like a person.
“Before you rush to your capture, can you return the favor and give me your name as well. I'm afraid that my Owner would not care enough to ask.”
Ember wanted to at least know that much about the girl who would try to help her, no matter how pointless that actually was.
“It's Chloe, and don't count me out just yet.”
At that, the girl named Chloe rushes at Ember, and the {Domesticated Tigerkin} dodges out of the way just in time to avoid the full bodied tackle that the Demoness attempted. Ember’s whiskers then twitch, letting her know about the two objects heading her way, so she hops over the twin tails that had tried to trip her and knock her over. All the while, she is actually trying to think of a way to not have to hurt Chloe.
Weston’s orders were “make sure she doesn't run off,” “feel free to break a leg or two to make sure she doesn’t run,” and lastly, “if she tries fighting back, make sure to protect Billy.” That actually gives her some leeway in this situation, thankfully enough. The “feel free” part meant that she didn't actually have to do so, meaning she actually only needed to follow the first and third orders, neither of which actually implicitly stated to injure Chloe. As long as Ember kept the Demon occupied as she attacked her, with Billy far enough away to not be in danger, Ember technically didn't need to fight back.
Coming to this conclusion, she does something that might be stupid and will just cause her to receive some extra lashings later. She starts to “accidently” take the attacks coming for her instead of dodging, at least for as long as she can without Weston giving her new orders.
My sweeping kick actually connects, unlike my first two attempts, and Ember gets knocked to the ground at last. Not wasting the opportunity, I get on top of her, pressing down with my weight and begin to punch her over and over again on her arms that are blocking her face. As I do this, my tails head towards my actual targets as I guide them to move slowly to try and not draw the slavers’ attention towards them. At first, I pull my punches to not hurt the girl beneath me, but as I notice her arms not budging even a little, I put in a little more effort to try and sell my act a bit better. As I do so, Ember whispers to me a question, and I catch on that she is also trying to help me the best she can.
“It won't be long before Weston realizes he hasn't ordered me to actually fight back yet, you’ve got a minute at most, probably less, to knock me out. So start using some Skills already, my [Thick Fur] Skill makes it so I can barely even feel these weak punches. Don't worry about hurting me too much, I have a Skill to help mend wounds.”
It takes me a bit to realize that she's right, the {Trader}, who is probably this Weston guy, didn't actually order her to fight me directly, only to make sure I don't run away, which I am not. Thankfully for the both of us, I don't actually need to hurt her to complete my plan, which can now begin as one tail wraps itself around a leg and the other presses itself against the cool metal of the collar. A bit of surprise enters Ember’s face as I activate one of my Skills, before a small smile appears as she realizes what I am doing, in part at least. My [Restful Touch] begins to sap at her stamina, though at a slower rate than I would like. All the while, I keep my barrage of punches ongoing, more for the show than to actually accomplish anything with them. Each blow feels as if I am striking a fuzzy stone, what I assume to be her fur under the tunic absorbing the impacts easily. I don't know how much of her body is covered by the fur, as her clothes cover it, but by the feeling I receive on the tail wrapped around her leg, at least her arms and legs are covered in the stuff.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The moment comes as Ember’s eyelids finally begin to droop after about half a minute of continuous contact. The man called Weston calls out in an angry shout,
“Fuckin’ useless cat, get her off you already and fight back! Or should I whip you till yer unconscious myself on top of the beatings you're already getting for this pathetic display!”
“Times up, I guess. You almost succeeded. Too bad.”
With a regretful sigh, Ember grabs each of my arms faster than I can realize what is going on, and headbutts me so hard I see stars for a couple seconds. In that time, she slips her legs between mine dexterously, then positions them onto my stomach before kicking out, launching me off her and back a couple feet onto my back. As I groan on the ground, she bends down and yanks the tail wrapped on her leg with such force that if I didn't unravel it so she could remove it, she might've ripped it in two to accomplish the same thing. As I start to get back to my feet, I notice her bring up her hands in a clawing position, which is an apt description, as her normal looking fingernails morph before my eyes into nasty looking claws, sharp as can be.
“I knew I shouldn't have any hope. Your Skill could've actually put me to sleep in time, but I unfortunately have too much resistance, even when Weston won't let me improve my [Enchantment Resistance] further due to how it would eventually negate my collar.”
Ember looks sad as she proclaims my failure, though what she said just makes me smile widely. After all, even if it took a bit due to it being my first time using the Skill, my plan worked.
“Don't be so quick to give up Ember. After all, I am a {Countess Of Broken Chains}, and I have finally put that to proper use. So if you are willing to trust a stranger who I promise has your best interests at heart, disobey your orders and let me get at the fuckers who put you in bondage. I promise you will be fine.”
What is wrong with this girl? Ember just can't understand her whatsoever. After getting tossed back with ease, the first things that come out of that smugly smiling mouth are boasts the like she has never heard before. Can Chloe really help her? Or will she just bring her more suffering. Memories start rushing back to Ember, of her time with her family, of the attack Weston wrought on her village, of her time as a pet to the man who killed Ash right before her eyes, and her decision is made right then and there. Even if death comes to her, she will not be the one to cause this kind girl to become a slave like her.
So, for the first time that she can recall, she disobeys her Owner’s order, and steps back. But something happens that she doesn't expect. Instead of a wave of agonizing pain, her mind is filled with a sense of peace, relaxing her entire body. Instantly, she collapses to the ground as her eyes grow extremely heavy, and the last thing Ember perceives before falling unconscious is the beautiful sight of Chloe’s grinning face, and the sound of running footsteps finally reaching the clearing.
I look down at Ember, who has curled up on the ground, a cute purring sound coming from her sleeping form, and I am flooded with relief.
Thank Iusti that actually worked.
While I knew that she would be knocked unconscious regardless, it is still good to see that my alterations worked, and inspecting the collar again only confirmed it.
(Slave Collar of Restfulness):
The mark of a slave, these collars are usually enforced via magical inscriptions to be extremely durable. This collar is inscribed with (Enchantment) magic which drains stamina to coerce its wearer to obey the orders of the one wearing the commanding item. If necessary, the collar will send a large wave of relaxation to put the wearer to sleep.
It was a risky move to try using [Alter Runes] on the fairly complex item, as I only understood a few of the runes, but that risk paid off. I wouldn't have tried it at all if I didn't have an instinctual feeling that the portion of inscription I was altering wouldn't be fatal if an error occurred, but Ember probably wouldn't have enjoyed the backlash that would've occurred. If the collar didn't use (Enchantment) magic, I probably wouldn't have been able to know this much about the item, but the effects of [Runic Vision] and [Alter Rune] allowed for me to infer knowledge with my [Enchantment Affinity] Skill.
Looking over, the looks of surprise on the tw- four people standing there is priceless. I pause a bit as I take in the returned {Rogue} apparently called Pudicity and the newcomer, a young teenage boy with scraggly brown hair wearing stained, white robes with mud caked on its hem. I quickly give what I assume to be their (Holy) user an inspection with [Runic Vision].
{Priest: Level 27}
[Highest Stat: Magic Power]
“Well shit, you wasted your time stalling me to call him as backup. Now your highest Leveled member is incapacitated and all you've got to show for it is a kid even lower Leveled than me, and I came to Dharta just a few days ago.”
I address that to Weston directly, as it seems like he’s the boss of the slavers here, though I am a little surprised by the boy’s description. I noticed it with the others, but these don't seem like my Subspecies options, and more like job titles. Maybe things work differently for Humans? At this thought, I suddenly realize this is the first time I have really addressed the fact that they are Human, and I am not. I am so used to seeing only Humans back on Earth, that the oddity of the situation never really sank in. Until now.
“Huh, are all Humans on Dharta assholes? Or have I just been unlucky in not coming across any decent ones.”
I let out my thoughts for them to hear as I think about the guard captain of Littlecreek. While Douglas might not have been human, and it was hard to tell based on his undead counterpart being so decayed, he didn't really look like some other Species. He seemed like a pretty decent guy apart from the whole dehumanizing, or is it de-people-izing, of Thumper, but that is kinda hard to look past. Now the first Humans I come across that are still alive are slavers themselves.
My musings are interrupted though, as Weston finally responds to my words,
“Oh shut up you bitch! I don't know what kind of trick you pulled, but you're finished now. Didn't your parents teach you that a Demon’s Recovery is nullified when inflicted by their Bane, removing their monstrous ability to recover faster than their Recovery Stat should allow for on actual people. Charlie, use your [Purification] Skill on her so she can find out first hand!”
“But boss, that Skill only lets me remove dirtiness, disease and poisons, why would I-”
“Just do it! It’s a (Holy) Skill that can’t be dodged, so even if it is considered a buff, it should negate her Recovery anyways!”
I listen to the exchange between the teenage boy named Charlie and Weston as I move Ember’s sleeping form behind me, so that I am between her and the slavers. As I finish doing this, a somewhat uncomfortable tingling sensation fills my entire body as, at the same time, I feel as if I have taken a thorough bath and have cleaned myself from head to toe.
“Hah! Now you're in fer it! On top of being unable to recover from injuries, you can't recover your stamina, so no matter what, you'll drain yourself whether you run or fight!”
Weston laughs cruelly after his proclamation, but in response I just face all of them and ready myself to fight once more. But this time, my fury begins to boil over once again, and I give the group one last warning,
“Enough. I'm getting quite pissed off, so I’ll only say this once. Scurry off and leave me and Ember alone, because I don't know if I can stop myself once I start.”
“Oh what are you going to do, huh? Charlie, heal us up when we need it. Billy break all her limbs till she is crying for mercy. Pudicity, cover us and take shots at her when you can, just try not to kill her. I'll show ‘er that I know how to use the whip at my side.”
“Fine, have it your way.”
A glow begins to emit from both my hands as I use [Light Of Justice] at last to make nasty gauntlets with sharp claws, my twin tails rising up behind me and swaying menacingly as their tips sharpen and elongate. But something unforeseen happens as I do so, the usually golden light begins to flicker, so I look down to see something that hasn't happened before when activating the Skill. The glass-like surface of solid gold light begins to turn pitch black void, with only pinpricks of gold remaining, turning the gauntlets’ into a makeshift night sky in composition. All except for the tips of the claws, which have become a blinding white that hurts to look at, and I can feel the heat emanating from them easily.
Allows the user to imbue themselves with (Holy) (Light) to strike down those who would bring about injustice under the name of the goddess Iusti.
“Light Shines Brightest In The Dark, Justice Is Strongest When Correcting Injustice.”
The voice burns in my mind from seemingly nowhere, and is somewhat familiar. If not for the somewhat ethereal tone of authority, I could've sworn I heard this voice somewhere before.
“Huh, looks like I have got some backup of my own. Though I think that a {Priest} won't be able to compare to the source herself. Thanks Iusti, I'll take it from here.”
Charlie can't believe what he is seeing. He can feel the (Holy) magic wafting off the Demon from dozens of feet away, and her glowing, golden eyes seem to be piercing his very soul.
“So you have some (Light) magic, so what. You're just burning your mana at this point. And stop trying to trick us by calling out our Goddess’ name, everyone knows that you Demons worship the Unholy Temptress Lilith and her six evil offspring.”
His boss’ voice is still relaxed and easygoing, which just makes Charlie want to scream at him in frustration, but his fear holds him still. While he is a {Priest Of Purity} and follows the teachings of Pudicitia, Goddess of Purity and Iusti’s twin sister, he has spent plenty of time in the Theocracy of Pudicit Iustitia’s churches to recognize (Holy) magic related to the Goddess of Justice. But it makes no sense, why would a follower of Iusti be attacking them? Charlie’s mentor, a {High Priest} who ran the orphanage he grew up in, always told him that the twin Goddesses worked together on all things, and that their union allowed for their great nation to rise to prominence. But this Demon completely contradicts this, as she not only is using (Holy) magic related to the Goddess of Justice, but in such large amounts that he has never felt from any {Priests Of Justice} he has met before.
Could she be telling the truth? Is she really blessed by the Goddess Iusti herself?
Charlie then remembers a few odd things she said earlier, such as coming to Dharta “just a few days ago” and asking “are all Humans on Dharta assholes?” He knows of the stories told about {Heroes} and {Saintesses} that the Gods and Goddesses summon from distant lands, but that shouldn't be possible. The Deacon himself is teaching Iusti’s Chosen, including her {Hero} and {Saintess}, right? But no matter how Charlie tries to reason away what he is feeling, he still collapses to his knees, unable to stand the pressure coming from the Demon.
“Oi! What are you doing! Scared are ye? Well get off yer ass, she's headed this way!”
Weston’s words fall on deaf ears, and Charlie tries again to call out a warning, but he is too late. Chloe Wright is already heading their way, ready to dispense Justice.
As I stroll forwards, the teenage boy collapses out of nowhere, his face petrified and his body shaking uncontrollably. While I am trying to intimidate them, that reaction is much more than I was expecting. As for the other three, they keep their calm a bit better, all of them readying their respective weapons and standing on guard, content with letting me approach them. All except for the {Rogue} that is, as she begins firing arrows at me the moment she is able to. I try to dodge them as best I can, but unfortunately I am quite a large target, so even if I manage to avoid any major damage, by the time I get close enough to start striking out with my tails, I already have a couple arrows sticking out from various areas. Thankfully, my Blackbirch Circlet makes it so that they don't penetrate very far, the arrowheads unable to pierce the bark-like skin effectively.
The moment I get in range, at least in regards to my tails, all hell breaks loose, as that is when Skills start to be used frequently and visibly. As I start my assault by aiming a [Tail Whip] at the {Thug} whose name I don't know, Weston returns the favor by cracking out the genuine article towards me, the leathery whip extending out unnaturally to bring forth a bloody gash on my right arm. At the same time, the {Thug} uses a Skill which turns his wooden club metallic, then brings it down on one of the tails darting towards him using his uninjured arm, halting its path by smacking it right down onto the ground. Fortunately he doesn't notice the second one in time, and I wrap it around one of his ankles and activate [Tail Whip] once more to fling him into a tree a few feet away, slamming him into it forcefully and knocking his breath away for a few crucial seconds, letting me get closer unimpeded.
I only make it a few more steps closer before a translucent blue arrow shoots through my right leg faster than any of the woman named Pudicity’s other projectiles. It passes through without any pain or resistance, and the moment it thunks into the ground behind me, a shackle made up of the same magical blue material as the arrow appears around my ankle and connects to the arrow by a thick looking chain. This slows me down for precious seconds as I drag my leg forward, pulling the appendage through the binding as if I were wading through thick honey instead. This is apparently not supposed to happen though, as when the phantom shackle collapses to the ground, dissipating into glowing motes of light, a dumbfounded expression appears on Pudicity’s face. Apparently I should be giving [Free Spirit] more credit than I have been, even if this is probably its first real case that the Skill has given tangible results.
I use this moment of surprise to grab her legs with my tails, which had been keeping low and heading her way, and yank her off her feet and pull her towards me. She cries out in alarm as she slams onto her back after losing her footing, but manages to hold onto her bow as I drag her across the ground the fifteen or so feet between us, which she holds up in front of her as my fist slams down towards her. Unfortunately for her, my celestial gauntlet snaps the wooden weapon in two as I go through it straight into her nose. The sound of crunching beneath my fist informs me of her broken nose before I see it moments later, as blood dribbles down her slightly singed skin.
Before I can follow up, I am tackled from the side by the {Thug} and we tumble across the ground as I am knocked away by his considerable strength. We end up with him mounted on top of me after the tussle, and once I reorient myself, I immediately see him bringing down his wooden club in a full-force two-handed blow. I bring up my arms to guard, and while the impact hits me hard enough I am sure something got fractured in my arms if not fully broken, the weapon that lost its metallic form splinters into pieces as it crashes into the [Light Of Justice] covering my upper arms. That doesn't seem to bother him too much though, as he just discards the remaining bits of wood to start wailing on me with his fists, which hit me almost as hard as the club did. I'm barely given any time to strike back, as his blows strike against my guard as if I were being hit by a hammer one after the other, with only an occasional counter from me striking him back.
Our impromptu fistfight on the ground lasts for quite a while, but ends when I manage a lucky shot on his chin that knocks him out. He does his best to give my face a remodeling of its own before that though. If I had time to look in the mirror, I'm sure my face would be covered in bruises and marred black with blood. The {Thug} didn't bother holding back, and as I dizzily climb to my feet, I look down at the bloody, burnt knuckles of the man who probably would've beat me in a fistfight if I hadn’t had my [Light Of Justice] active despite me being a good two feet taller than him and about as muscular. A quick glance to my side shows me that Pudicity is still lying on the ground, one of her hands pressed against her face as she groans in pain, so I turn my attention back to the man who started this fight, his demeanor much less sure now that it's become a one on one clash. Sweat begins to fall down his face as he calls out to me in a slightly pleading voice,
“Alright, alright, I see that I picked some unwise quarry this time. How ‘bout we forget all of this unpleasantness and go our separate ways. I'll even let ya take the cat with you. Just let me and my people live.”
He gives me a somewhat nervous grin and holds out one of his hands for a handshake.
What the fuck?
I'm actually baffled at the man. I'm not sure if it's some kind of trick or if he's just that stupid. Against my better judgement, I decide to call out to him instead of going over and strangling him right here and now.
“Why should I listen to a word you say! Not only did you threaten to put me into slavery, you tainted me with this accursed tattoo once more.”
“How about this?” He tosses his whip behind him before continuing, “Is this a good enough sign of my genuine sincerity?”
While I am still skeptical and definitely angry, I also don't know what to do with the man. Even if I wanted to, I'm not sure if I have it in me to kill people. Even if they are somewhat monstrous in their actions, they aren't actually monsters, at least physically. While I've adapted to my situation to the point that I have destroyed skeletons and undead fairly frequently, they still don't actually look like people really. Do I even have a plan in the first place? It was only earlier today that I decided to try and take on people like Weston, but how do I even go about doing that? Should I just kill every slaver I see without a second thought? I look down at my hands, red blood sizzling off the gauntlets, and I make my decision. With a sigh, I start to walk towards the bastard, intent on letting him run off to who knows where. A brighter smile appears on his face as he sees my action, and he starts to head towards me as well with his arm still extended.
“I knew you would come around. You're no {Murderer}.”
We slowly approach each other, neither of us breaking our locked gazes. Step by step we grow closer and closer, before finally meeting next to a tree that was between us. He reaches up towards me with his hand, and once more speaks out in a gentle voice,
“Now was that so bad? All we-”
He cuts himself off and lunges towards my neck with both hands, a nasty scowl covering his face in an instant. Thankfully I made sure to keep my guard up, so I intercept him first by grabbing his neck instead with one of my hands still covered in [Light Of Justice], and I slam him into the nearby tree, pinning him to the trunk with one arm.
“Really? Did you actually think that would work? I've had to deal with scum like you all my life. Why couldn't you actually do the smart thing and piss off with your buddies and crawl back into the hole you came from.”
A snarl of my own covers my face as I admonish Weston, and I clench my grip tighter on his burning neck, though he still manages to respond through choked words.
“Cus’ I *COUGH* *COUGH* don't negotiate with *COUGH* beasts. [Summon Collar].”
In a moment, a flash of light emits from his finger that is barely touching my neck, and before I can do anything, I can feel a constricting band of cool metal wrap around my neck, cutting off my air for a second before the magical item resizes itself to a shape that is only maddingly uncomfortable instead of life threatening. I drop the man to the ground as I grab at the collar that is now encompassing my neck, trying to tug at it to no avail, even with my (Holy) hands.
“HA! That's what you get you bitch! Now why don't you prostrate yourself like a good slave while I go and make sure my people are safe.”
A triumphant smile covers Weston’s face as he climbs to his feet, rubbing at the red handprint around his throat. This smile lasts for all of two seconds before he notices something very, very wrong. My towering form looks down at the man as fury starts to fill me even further than before, a purple glow emitting from my neck only managing to make my mood worse.
“Bu-but how?! You shouldn't be able to resist the effects of that collar without at least Tier 3 [Enchantment Resistance]!”
Weston backs up away from me, only to slam into the tree behind him, and he collapses on his ass as I step forward menacingly.
“There are three things you didn't consider. One,” my leg slams into the side of his head, knocking him prone as I kick him, “While not at Tier 3, [Enchantment Affinity] is my highest Affinity Skill.”
He tries to scramble back to his feet, but one of my tails yanks his foot out so he slams face-first back into the dirt. I kneel down and turn him onto his back, mounting him before continuing.
“Two,” I knee him in his junk as hard as I can from this position, “I'm not wearing a (Slave Collar of Phantom Pain), it's now a (Slave Collar of Restfulness).”
He tries to curl up as he groans in pain, but our positions make it somewhat difficult to move, so he only manages to cover his manhood with his hands after some maneuvering. I grab his chin with one of my hands and force his gaze to meet mine, and I see tears start to stream down his face as the smell of sizzling skin enters our nostrils.
“Three,” I rear my head backwards, “ It’s fucking impossible to feel restful when your arms are being cooked by your own Skill,” and before he can understand what I mean by that, I slam down my head onto his with a nasty headbutt, knocking him unconscious as my own head starts to ring. After a few moments, with some dizziness still remaining, I look down at the pitiful man and take in my handiwork. His eyes are rolled back in his head, and a nasty bruise is already appearing on his forward, with two bloody gashes to each side framing it courtesy of my stubby horns. After confirming that he is actually unconscious, I start to loot the man, looking for a particular item while inspecting everything with [Runic Vision]. Thankfully it doesn't take too long, and I soon slip off an unassuming copper ring of his right ring finger and onto one of my own.
(Slave Collar Command Ring)
This item allows the user to transmit orders to any Slave Collar bound to it.
While brief, the description is quite straightforward, and exactly what I need until I can figure out how to remove this stupid band of iron off my neck.
“Chloe, do whatever you want!”
I cheerfully call out, and my [Runic Vision] lets me see a tiny flash of purple come from the ring, and then the collar instants later.
Good thing that actually worked.
I came up with the idea the instant I read the line in the Collar’s description about a “commanding item,” and the only thing I was unsure about until now was if the person wearing the collar could use the item as well. It seems like a design flaw, but maybe it's just this particular item that has that issue?
Before I can relax, I notice that I haven't received my “You Are Now In Relative Safety” message, so I turn towards the person nearest to me and call out to him with a weary sigh.
“Do I have to knock you out as well, or are you going to stay there like a good boy?”
The teenage {Priest} named Charlie jumps at me addressing him, before waving his arms in front of himself wildly as he stammers out a response.
“N-no I-I don't want to fight anymore. I-it is probably her.”
With a shaky finger, he points behind me and I turn to see Pudicity the {Rogue} standing a few feet away from me, trembling as she points a dagger at me in a two-handed grip. Her face is a mess as streams of blood still trickle out from her disfigured nose, and she tries to look as defiant as possible as her legs and arms shake in fear.
“Relax woman, you heard me earlier didn't you? All I want is for you all to piss off, it's your boss who couldn't leave me well enough alone.”
She takes the time to consider my words, her eyes darting between me, Charlie, and her unconscious companions who both out-Level her, before finally coming to a decision. I finally breathe out in relief as I see the dagger clatter to the ground, Pudicity sitting down and wrapping her arms around her knees seconds later as she continues to stare at me. After that, the welcome message finally appears, but yet again, I dismiss it and finally release [Light Of Justice] to put this situation to rest at last.
“Okay then, good. Now let's get out of this forest and back to Littlecreek, I'd rather not sleep outside tonight. Can you two grab your unconscious companions? Or are they too heavy?”
As I ask this, I walk over to Ember, who is still sleeping at the moment. I bend down towards her sleeping figure, noticing the cute purring coming from her once more, and I gently lift her up into my arms, wincing slightly as she makes contact with my distressingly black arms, though I still make sure to not wake her. I turn around to see the young man and woman just standing there, so I make a shooing motion with my hand, after which they finally move over to one of their companions and… fail to lift them up. With a sigh, I call out to them softly.
“Fine, both of you carry the {Thug}, I'll try something out with Weston.”
As the two grab an arm of the man each and sling it over their shoulders, I take my two tails and wrap them around Weston, lifting him up with a little effort, though with more ease than I expected. After making sure he is secure and that the girl in my arms is still sleeping soundly, I whisper over to Pudicity and Charlie.
“Okay then. First, do you have any more buddies back in town that I have to worry about, and please don't lie, I'm tired enough as it is and will still kick your ass.”
“N-no. Allen got killed by the {Rusalka} and th-the only other people there are the, uhm, other slaves. Th-though they are debtors and not, well, like Ember.”
I give Charlie a look at that, though the information is welcome. With yet another sigh, I start to head back to Littlecreek, where this all began, with a mix of unwanted and welcome companions along the way.
In her realm, Iusti smiles as her Chosen finally joins up with her first companion, though part of that smile might be because Vimortua finally left her alone to show a certain uppity undead why she isn't just the Goddess of Undeath, but the Goddess of Second Chances.
“Well, she’ll wish that Vimmy is the Goddess of Third Chances when she is done with her. It's her fault she wasted her second go at life after all.”
Iusti gives out a slight chuckle at that, before sending off a tiny bit of essence to reward her Chosen for her efforts.
“Now then, I'm exhausted after that damn bonehead kept annoying me. I think it's time for a little nap. Chloe should be fine without my supervision for a few days.”
With a yawn and a flick of the wrist, Iusti’s couch transforms into a luxurious bed with sheets made of the night sky, and rests at last, her new Chosen, her Saintess to be, safe at last.
At least, for now.