Ow…owowowowo…The back of my head is killing me…
My body feels heavy, and it’s a pain to move, but nevertheless I try to sit up.
“Easy…there. You’re banged up…pretty bad.”
I hear a voice, though due to my groggy consciousness I only hear the words of someone speaking in Firdu, and not any tone. I don’t need to hear who it is, because I already know.
It’s Alisson of course! He fought his way out and came to me! I shake my head to waft away my tire. I smile instinctually, and open my eyes.
What fills my vision, is a large, green, orc.
It was then that I realized that Alisson wasn’t here. A sudden string forms in my gut, a tug, a pull. My eyes widen, and my mouth curves into shock as I recoil away from the orc, sifting under the sheets of some sort of bed.
Pushing away my shock, I quickly take in my surroundings as blood starts rushing through my body in a panic. I’m in some sort of cabin or shack, it was decorated with numerous shelves of old oddities. Pelts were tapered up against the walls and were suspended from the ceiling. The bed that I’d been tucked into was made up of an amalgamation of furs and pelts, it was so heavy that I almost couldn’t move.
The orc next to me was sitting on a stool, and was more than double my height. I could see the distinctive large teeth of an orc jutting from his lower jaw as well as pointy small ears at the sides of his large and bald head.
He’s…wearing glasses? I doubted my eyes but there it is, an orc, wearing tiny glasses over his eyes. It makes him look like some sort of sophisticate. It didn’t help that he was also wearing quite formal and well-kept clothes; The sight before me certainly betrays my mental expectations for an orc.
The orc, seeing my terror and seeing me desperately trying to squirm away, sighed. He’d been reading a book, and set it down on a nightstand while taking off his glasses.
“There’s no need to be so scared qaharat.”
His voice was deep and oddly refined. Still intimidated, I bring the sheets up by my chest protectively. I breath a mental sigh of relief when I notice that I’m still in my armor…Phew, this orc didn’t unclothe me in my unconsciousness. That’d be bad. Very bad. I’ve been stripped of my weapons though, and I don’t know where they are. My only weapon right now is magic, of which I only have a half of my mana remaining thanks to the day’s earlier events.
“I was on my…morning walk…when I found you…passed out, in a ditch on the side of the road, with a couple horses. So, who exactly…are you?”
He says, directing a gaze of scrutiny on me. The way he spoke was slow and methodical, he stretched his words, speaking like a snake. I swallow, and am on the verge of deciding to stay silent, when I remember that that would be much worse than to just say something, anything. Think, Alisson, he always makes up some random story…I wish Alisson were here…
“I…” Pushing aside my anxiety, I hesitantly start, “I was…”
I was about to say I got ambushed by cultists, when I suddenly realize,
The orc standing before me might very well be a cultist or informant. He is in their territory after all…
“…I was travelling through here with my older brother when we were separated by beasts, and, one snuck up on me…I managed to kill it, but…It looks like I was knocked out in the process…”
The orc nodded thoughtfully.
“That…would explain that massive corpse…I saw on the road.”
My mind quickly whips into a panic;
What if he saw the dead cultist bodies? I’ve seen before that they evaporate into black mist when they die, but, those cultists in particular…there was something about them that set them apart;
They bled. I saw them react with surprise and the yelped in pain when I ambushed them. Why did those cultists seem so much more alive and animate than the swarms me and Alisson fought in the city?
Going down that trail of thought, I realize that this orc lives horribly close to a city, and that he must have been very nearby to find me…Something isn’t adding up here. Orcs are rarely seen outside of their nation, I can understand a hermit, like this one seems to be from the contents of his abode, but, so close to a city?
“The city…it was so close, why were you…?”
I mumble. The orc looks at me quizzically.
“…City…? There’s no cities…around here, for miles.”
I stare at him, at a loss for words.
“But, I am the one…asking the questions…here…”
His deep voice was extremely frightening when he glared at me like that. His slow words combined with his unfaltering glare at me made me feel extremely on edge.
“You. Who…do you, serve…”
I swallowed a heavy gulp under his squinted eyes of suspicion.
“I’m a dishonored noble…that’s all. I, I-I only have my brother…”
The orc’s eyes narrowed at me. My body tenses in even more anxiety. I can barely think or say a word when something so scary is so close and focusing its whole attention on me.
The orc suddenly sighed, he then looked me in the eyes.
“Listen…qaharat…I know, you are…lying. Speak…the truth…I don’t like…games…”
I gasp in terror, my eyes widening.
I feel like at any moment the orc could just descend upon me, and rip out my throat with his massive teeth or bend my limbs like twigs. A very real fear of death builds in my chest. I clench my eyes tightly, with the sole thought,
I wish Alisson were here! He’d know what to do, what to say, he’d, he’d be cool and collected, and not scared…
I clench my eyes tighter realizing this, and steel myself as much as I can. As scared as I am, nothing is going to change the fact that I won’t say a word. Even if it kills me – I’m not going to put myself before Alis– I mean, the mission!
I open my eyes and I clench my fists. I look up to the orc with an angry frown. I don’t say a word to it. The orc sighed after seeing my resolute glare.
“Alright, so that’s how it is…”
He leaned down and lifted something from under the bed. It was a massive sword, it looked like it was made more out of stone than actual refined steel, but it could easily still kill me. He lifted the sword over his shoulder. I grinded my teeth together with a scowl, clenching my hands tighter. He brought the sword down.
I shut my eyes tightly, and awaited my coming death. There wasn’t any time to prepare a spell or even move, I was dead, that was all. Everything was gone. There was no one there to protect me. Hmph…’everything’…that’s really just Alisson, isn’t it?
…
…
…
…Though, the pain never comes, and I crack an eye open to investigate. The orc had stopped his slice short, and was staring at me. He sighed again and put the sword down. I don’t breathe any sort of relief, I just glare.
“Well…you are not of the cult…that is…for sure…”
My eyes open wide and my face turns blank at the orc’s remark.
“No young cultist would be so…ready to die for what they believe in…You, you’ve got an, admirable, will. I…respect…that.”
So, the orc’s not with the cult? It could be an act though, so I keep my mind ready.
“I…I, I am Dereleg ‘Bol.”
The orc speaks only a few words, but with such power and intent that they sound like they rend the air around me.
“You see, when I found you , there were four cultist corpses nearby…I…thought you were with them, ah…Forgive me, for making such…an assumption…Crazy, isn’t it? You can’t even trust a…little girl…these days.”
“I killed them myself.”
He seemed a little taken back.
“And…the beast…?”
I nod.
“Hmm…You are…more than the sum of your parts...What you said about your brother…”
“That’s all true…we were separated. He’s probably fighting the cult right now…”
I say, and try to get up out of the sheets.
“Hmm…?” The orc hums for a second, but it stops my movements dead. “You’re…not going anywhere qaharat. You’re hurt bad. You…shouldn’t even be moving right now, considering, how many…wounds…you’ve received, recently...”
It sounds like he knows about my injuries. If that’s the case, he attended to my wounds somehow.
“I…study magic…You’re fortunate I was…looking for somebody…to test out the, 1st tier, of a healing spell…I recently learned.”
So that’s why I can no longer feel a few cuts on my body. The bigger ones though still throb with an aching pain. But…magic huh? This is an orc…guys who’re supposed to be as magically inept as us, and total brutes in combat. I can’t think those thoughts seriously with his fine clothing and glasses that he’d been wearing though.
“Before…I forget…”
He leaned over to the nightstand and picked up the book he’d been reading when I’d woken.
“There was a book…I found on the cultists’ bodies that was…interesting …Is it yours?”
He motions to the book in his hand. I take a glance at it.
“N-no…that’s not mine.”
His brow piques.
“Oh…? Well, you…killed them, so…it’s yours, to keep.”
“It’s fine it’s just a book…”
I murmur, but he shakes his head in response.
“That there…is no book, that’s a grimoire…for a spell. I already…have the spell that it details…so it’s of no use to me.”
He hands me the ‘grimoire’. The cover is a rough black leather that’s fancily engraved. I put the grimoire to the side, uninterested. I start out of the bed once more. Alisson. I need to get back to him. There’s a pull on my mind…
“Thank you for, picking me up, and all but…I really need to get back to my…my brother.”
I hesitated, I didn’t want to say ‘brother’, but I didn’t want to reveal to Dereleg ‘Bol that I was lying. The orc lifted his hand over my chest, thanks to its size though, it casted a shadow across my entire torso and abdomen. He shook his head. Even though it was a simple gesture, it sent shockwaves of panic through me.
“You…won’t be leaving. Tell…me…Who is this, brother of yours…?”
I desperately try to concoct something in my head.
“He’s…the only reason why I’m alive right now…He’s saved my life a lot…and now…I, I need to help him.”
The orc glared at me in silence for a long moment, before letting out a deep and long hum.
“Hmm…If he has…saved you…then he must be more powerful than, you…You, are strong, so he…must be…”
The orc trails off.
Did…did he seriously call me…strong?
“I am, sure, someone like how you, describe…will be fine against, those, Ŏrquals…”
“But…but…He’s my master…I need to help him…I, I can’t let him fight alone…”
I mumble weakly. The orc stared at me for a long minute.
“…It…doesn’t sound like he’s only your master.”
My mind immediately comes to a standstill.
I didn’t hear the rest of what the orc, Dereleg ‘Bol, had to say; but he stood and went to the other end of the cabin, leaving me, completely frozen on the bed.
…Not only…my master…what does that mean? What does that mean?
Alisson is my…master, and, friend…Yeah, that’s what the orc was talking about. Suddenly Tsuhara pops into my mind, and of what she said when we were bathing. She thought that we were mates, she thought that I was…’Chasing his tail’…I think that, I’m missing something here.
As I sit, my mind running circles around itself and getting tied up, I still feel that pull, that tug at my gut that I’ve felt ever since I realized Alisson wasn’t here. Realizing my own feeling, and then trying to analyze it along with Dereleg ‘Bol’s words and Tsuhara’s implications, my train of thought wraps tightly around me. Soon, my mind is a jumble and stagnates at every turn, until I’m just sitting there, staring into the furs around me blankly, with no thoughts.
There’s…something that I’m…I’m not thinking of…
Mmph! I shake my head.
Why am I being so lackadaisical? I need to regroup with Alisson, I don’t have the time to meander in my thoughts. The first thing I was taught at the Academy was to not think emotionally about combat or about the mission. I’ve been pretty good with that rule,
I shake my head again.
I’ll keep it that way.
My eyes scan the area under a new filter of vigilance. From the way it looks outside, it’s about to be the crack of dawn, so it wasn’t exactly like I was unconscious for long. It’s only been an hour at the most. On a distant table, some sort of workbench, is my weapons, my baselards and stilettos. I can easily make a break for them, slit the orcs neck, and be on my way. But that’s an idealistic plan made in my head, I don’t know anything about Dereleg ‘Bol. He said he wasn’t a warrior and that he studied magic, that’s all. Sounds like he was a warrior back when he was with other orcs, but he probably hasn’t kept his body well-honed in that field.
…despite that he can probably still crush my skull with his bare hands. It’s really his magic I’m worried about. Orcs live a little longer than humans, and they’re in the same situation as the Nekomata when it comes to magic aptitude – All subhuman are – But that doesn’t mean he can’t blow me away before I can even grab my blades.
After pondering Dereleg ‘Bol for a minute, it dawns on me that I’m a pretty horrible person…Just murdering somebody who’s been so nice?
…Is what an idiot would say! Seriously-! There’s too much bad in this damned world for me to really believe or trust him. I uncharitably push my own naïve thoughts out of my important scheming.
Dereleg ‘Bol also gave me a grimoire, he said that he already knew the spell…so let’s see what spell it is…
I open the book. The first page is, like in all grimoire or spell dossiers, a full page of the runes the spell uses. There were about two full pages of the small and alien pictographs, there were about three hundred in all. I tried to recognize the spell from the runes alone, but I gave up on like the third one. I understood some bits and pieces, but the lot of the runes were alien to me. I flip to the next page, where an actual introduction and description of the spell is written in Firdu. The page opens with the lines:
To all new initiates…
And,
Praise be given to thou whom serve our Lord…
So I think I can pretty safely assume the book is written by and for the cult. So whatever it is, it’s something the cult uses. I skim a few pages and figure it out quickly:
It’s telepathy.
They don’t explicitly say the spell’s name for whatever reason, but I can tell that it is the tried-and-true telepathy spell.
Mm…This might actually be useful to me…
But, on a more present note, this doesn’t tell me much about Dereleg ‘Bol. The telepathy spell, although it’s very lengthy for being such a mundane spell, doesn’t take too much mana, so I can’t exactly figure out how much mana Dereleg ‘Bol has. He might be an arcane master, and he might also just be a backyard enthusiast with a fistful of mana for all I know. But, the spell is on the harder side of the spectrum to learn, so he’s not some idiot.
“Studying already?”
Dereleg ‘Bol comes back amidst my thoughts with a bowl of soup. He sits down by me, as he see’s me eyeing him, he offers his soup to me with his hand. I politlely decline with a wave of my hand.
“I’m…yeah…I guess so...”
I say. Dereleg ‘Bol shrugged.
“Know…any magic? Or are you just…mindlessly flipping through the pretty pictures?”
He says after a spoonful of soup.
“I know some…I don’t know this spell, but I think it’d be useful to learn though.”
“What branches…do you…specialize, in?”
Spells belong to the same family or branch because similar runes and combinations of runes show up to create similar effects. I only know three spells, Pict and Pictun are neutral magic, which is just a class of magic that doesn’t fit into any family due to uniqueness or general lameness of attributes. The healing spell I know and most other healing spells are in the water family, if only loosely related; Why in the hell the same runes show up in water spells as healing spells is not something I’ve bothered to remember.
“Neutral…and some water…”
I say. I’m not going to be specific; I’ve already affirmed my own distrust for Dereleg ‘Bol.
“Well…telepathy is a neutral spell though it is not apart of a string or core family in the neutral branch…so it’ll be pretty hard to learn. Forcing yourself to learn spells like that takes a while, so don’t get discouraged, you’ll need a lot of practice to remember so many runes that are only used in telepathy.”
…Well. I think I can say that Dereleg ‘Bol knows his stuff. What he’s saying isn’t wrong, neutral magic spells normally don’t share similarities, and the telepathy spell is pretty unique in its effects, so the runes would inevitably be foreign to me.
Now that Dereleg ‘Bol is before me again…I’ve, I’ve been wanting to ask something…
“Hey…what, what did you mean when you said…that my brother wasn’t only my master?”
The orc narrows his eyes at me in silence for a long minute.
“…You…I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about you.”
My mouth lay agape for a moment in total confusion.
“What…what do you mean?”
Another long minute passed in silence before Dereleg ‘Bol spoke again.
“He is not…only…your master…to you.”
To, to me? What sort of cryptic crap is that-
A shock runs through me when I realize what the orc is saying of me. He’s saying that I think of Alisson as more than a master.
That gap in my mind appears again. What is it!
I look down, a distraught expression crossing my face as I sit, hard in thought.
Think! Think-! What is that feeling I’ve felt? That pull? That urge to be near Alisson – To protect him?
Hah…I’ve never realized just how much I’ve grown attached to him…Without Alisson, I’m flying into a wild panic…Without Alisson…am I really much of anything?
The whole I sat there in thought, Dereleg ‘Bol had been quietly eating his soup whilst staring at me, intrigued.
I must’ve sat there for a whole ten minutes, my mind whipping this way and that way, reaching out to every corner of my mind to scrounge for my answer. My answer, on what my feelings were, and why I had them. In my mind’s scramble, a single, lone thought, goes under my perception. Though soon, I catch it, and, when I hear it again, it shatters my mind.
So…is this what they call, ‘being in love’?
…
Alisson took a step back, breathing heavily. It’d been fifteen straight minutes of intense battle, he’d been fighting for his life, and his body burned with fatigue because of it. Before him were a few limp cultist bodies, but the swarm still persisted and it seemed to be as big as ever. In reality, Alisson had killed many hundreds of them, but their bodies had evaporated and it gave the illusion that in all his hard fighting, Alisson hadn’t done a thing.
Alisson would’ve been discouraged by this, but his real opponent through the past quarter hour had been the massive hulk standing a ways away. The ogre-like man was bleeding from dozens of cuts and thrusts, all of which were Alisson’s handiwork of course. It was tough, but it was quite slow. The problem was that Alisson had to play the floor is lava whilst attacking it, thanks to the surrounding hundreds of cultists. The duo of this uncanny ogre-like monster and the ocean of cultists was proving to be one that would outlast Alisson. He’d already considered using his Opensen many times, the boost in strength would be invaluable. But, with so many eyes gazing upon him, he’d essentially be hollering out to the world that there was a Nekomata in the north of Aleeze. Although the cult was supposedly isolated and didn’t interact with other humans, Alisson wasn’t desperate enough to push his luck just yet.
Alisson steeled himself, and clenched Enhérejär tighter.
The ogre-monster was just begging to be finished off; Its plethora of wounds caused it to tremble and stumble in its slow movement, and it bobbed back and forth uneasily. Alisson fully intended to deliver upon it a finishing blow.
He was completely dry of mana at this point, so Alisson could only really use either Enhérejär or his magic imbued knives. He’d been teetering on the idea through the engagement with the cult to use some of his explosive knives or area-denial gas knives, but they would do little more than create a large opening that’d be filled in within seconds, it wasn’t exactly going to be useful against the swarm. But the large monster, perhaps a well-placed explosive knife could detonate its head right off.
Alisson resolved that this would be the best course of action, as he couldn’t rely on Enhérejär to take a fatal enough chunk out of the beast. After the beast was dead, Alisson hoped that that would be the last of any irregularities in the cult’s forces, one type of enemy was far simpler to deal with and evade than two. So, with a plan, Alisson broke into a dash forward, cutting through a dozen cultists who’d been quick to fill the gap in between him and the ogre-monster. As he neared the house sized humanoid, Alisson leapt onto and off a wall of a surrounding building toward the beast. The jump off the wall managed to give Alisson enough height to be level with the ogre-like monster’s arms. Using Enhérejär as a sort of icepick, he quickly clambered up the beast’s arms, jumping and then thrusting Enhérejär into its flesh over and over.
The ogre’s response came, and if Alisson were a normal man, it’d have been too fast, its arm came soaring at Alisson like someone wildly swatting a mosquito off their arm. It’s sudden speed, however terrifying, was still too slow to Alisson, and he easily was able to reach the beast’s collar before its hand even impacted on itself. Alisson didn’t tarry, he thrust Enhérejär into the beast’s nape, which on its own did little more than piss it off. He continued his body’s momentum and dragged Enhérejär, still impaled into the ogre-monster’s nape, across its skin. Enhérejär rended the beast’s flesh, and tore a sizable gash in its wake. Alisson withdrew a single knife from the innards of his cloak, and jammed it into the rip in the monster’s rugged tan flesh.
Alisson pulled Enhérejär back like a lever, and the beast’s flesh shifted back over the gash. With that, Alisson pulled Enhérejär out, and leapt back and off the beast with a deft flip through the air. In his wake, the explosive knife he had planted detonated, and the head of the ogre-monster was turned into a red mist and a cloud of smoke engulfed its body.
Alisson was met with surprise as he landed on the cobble road;
The cultists had parted and made a twenty-meter radius around him. It happened as he’d fallen, he’d seen it for himself; it was no coincidence. Just as Alisson felt the tremor of the beast’s body hitting the ground, he heard someone call to him.
“Oh my oh my – now that there is crossing a line boy.”
He looked to the source of the voice. He could, atop a rooftop down the road, a black outline casting itself against the sky. It was a lady, one who wore a fancy and belted dress, it was black and red in accordance with the rest of the cultists surrounding Alisson, so he didn’t think that he needed to seriously question who’s side they were on. The most pressing issue about this new threat, was what she held behind her back with both her arms. He could see it clearly, for it was long enough to jut out on both sides of her;
It was a scythe. One that had a scythe’s blade on each end. Alisson had never fought someone who used a scythe before; the weapon was reserved for either peasant militias or as niche sport among nobility, so seeing one being treated with such seriousness would’ve made Alisson smirk in amusement were he not in the middle of combat.
“Who the hell are you?”
Alisson shouted indignantly to the woman. His body, bobbing up and down with heavy breaths of fatigue, didn’t exactly incite any urges to be polite.
“Why me? I should be asking you that question; Why who comes into someone’s land and starts mercilessly slaughtering its citizens? Ah, but me? You should know well if it's true that you’re here on business specific to our Lord.”
“I didn’t come here to fight. You’re the ones who shot first. I’m passing through is all.” Alisson responded, as coolly as he could, but even he could hear his own irateness in his tone.
The lady brought a hand up to her chin, amused. Her sly attitude at that very moment just made Alisson want to cave in her face with a punch of his gauntlet, but he quickly cooled his temper, reciting in his head that the cultists were not people to be even talked with intelligently; They were the same as beasts to Alisson, unreasonable and unnegotiable with.
“Oh-ho my! One does not say such mundane words as that after displaying such world-class skills! Ahem, but if you are truly uninformed of who I am, I am the Basket Maiden, first servant to our Lord. I have a proposal, you see, you’ve just gone and halted a little experiment of ours, it was quite valuable to us…You…Duel me and if you win you may leave…maybe.”
Alisson tilted his head with a scowl.
“And if I lose?”
The lady, the ‘Basket Maiden’, deepened her grin.
“Why, I’ll take you alive of course…I’m sure you’ll be put to good use…”
She licked her lips. Alisson could see bright white glints of greed in her eyes. Alisson frowned. It seemed like he didn’t exactly have a choice; There existed two possibilities. One, that this Maiden was on his level of power, and he could reasonably put up a good fight, or, that she was immeasurably stronger than him. If the latter was true, he didn’t have a choice no matter what, if it was the former, he thought fighting and winning against one opponent was far easier than this swarm; so,
“…I will take you up on your…duel…”
Alisson said. He gave Enhérejär an intimidating flare, it clicked purposely loudly for effect. The Maiden smiled ear to ear. She leapt from the roof of the building she’d been standing on and landed on the cobblestone deceivingly lightly. She strode toward Alisson, she twirled her scythe in both her hands, it created large revolutions around her arms, and then, around her body, and then over her shoulders. The display of handling was so magnificent that Alisson was momentarily mesmerized in the twirling double edged scythe. This was no idiot he was dealing with, this Maiden had no doubt a master level of skill with that scythe of hers.
Alisson didn’t have any more time to analyze his opponent, she broke her stride into a dash at him, smiling wildly. She closed the distance quickly, and showed to Alisson that she was an agile fighter to be reckoned with. Still wanting to get more information on what was looking to be an ever increasingly tough warrior to defeat, Alisson opted to evade instead of trying to deflect or counterattack the Maiden’s opening strike. Alisson felt a wave of air pass by in the wake of the massive scythe’s swing as he deftly sidestepped around the Maiden. On instinct, he thrust back, half expecting to end the fight then and there. Enhérejär met air however and when his gaze set on his opponent he saw that the Maiden was already swinging back at him within her swift evasion. He stepped back and the blade of her scythe passed a mere inch away from his chest. Her weapon out of the way, his instincts screamed at him to push the attack. He closed in, revving another thrust, when he instantly realized his own stupidity; He’d forgotten about the other blade of her scythe on the other side of the shaft. He just barely managed to bob low enough for it to pass harmlessly over his head. He saw that the Maiden kept the momentum of the scythe going, and that she meant to strike for a third time. She could keep on attacking, with that long range of hers due to her weapon’s length and relative ease to create a barrage of attacks thanks to the dual-edged nature of that scythe of hers.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Hopefully, the Maiden was a savant, and this was her ace way of fighting; to most fighters a never-ending barrage like this unrelentingly advancing on them would eventually force their hand, Alisson’s too, given the time.
So, if he could avoid placing himself in a situation to be vulnerable to such a tactic, hopefully he could fight on uneven grounds with her, and not have to deal with her specialty. To do that, he could either fall back and engage in ultra-long-range harassment, something he was not good at doing, or, he could press forward, and use the scythe’s unwieldy nature to his advantage in close combat. The former would lead to a long and drawn out battle, and it was much less risky, but he didn’t think for a second that a warrior of the Maiden’s caliber would really let him do that or even be able to be defeated by such a strategy. The ladder was more dangerous, for him, but also for he Maiden;
Stepping forward, Alisson chose the ladder. He thrust dead center at the Maiden’s exposed abdomen, but inevitably, due to the distance, she was easily able to worm her body away like a stream of liquid in time. The way she evaded whilst also handling her scythe like that, this was no savant by any means, Alisson thought.
Alisson took a large leap back, avoiding a retaliatory strike. Apparently taking Alisson’s retreat as a break in the fighting, the Maiden slammed a blade into a crack in the cobblestone with one hand, laying the other on her hip whilst beaming a satisfied grin at Alisson.
“Oh who would of thought we’d ‘ve been blessed by one so well versed in giving death!”
She leaned in her head with a short giggle. Alisson seriously started to question the connection between polearms and unsettling female warriors. Lady Salchyon was enough to handle. Sparring her, Alisson had to admit, was always useful, for her way of fighting was so alien and intriguing, it made one think outside their norms and expanded their horizons; all from fighting someone whom seemed to have the shallowest of horizons. Alisson smirked to himself on his own quip of his comrade, and was half expecting to be punched; though he quickly dismissed the thought when he realized that there was no way Louise would be nearby to reprimand him.
“So skilled in combat, so cool and composed, and reeking with the veil of the Lord – Why you’re just perfect!”
Alisson tilted his head.
“Veil of the Lord?”
The Maiden’s face promptly straightened, unnaturally so.
“Why yes, have you not heard of it?”
Alisson didn’t reply. The Maiden began clicking her tongue in disappointment.
“You’ve been visited. At some point or another, the Lord’s vectors have come upon you, why it’s a great honor – The last place you could be blessed by the Lord himself was His Retreat a ways south of here, but my – that place has been lost to us for centuries now…”
As the Maiden reminisced, the gears in Alisson’s head were turning, because something started to make a little too much sense to him.
“Ipithid…those shades…that crater…”
He mumbled to himself. The Maiden suddenly looked up at him.
“Ipithid, why yes the plain, that’s where the ‘spot was, why it sounds like you’ve been there…Tell me have you?”
The Maiden’s eyes opened almost horrifically wide, and it was so unsettling and sudden that Alisson was forced to frown and avert his gaze. He didn’t reply.
“Mm…No wonder the veil descends all around you like a divine stench – You’ve been haven’t you? – To the holy Retreat? My, I’m starting to realize now why we mobilized like this, you’re starting to sound like a damned messiah boy!”
Alisson was starting to not understand the Maiden’s ramblings, but he pushed the intrigue out of his head and prepared for the clash for his survival about to proceed him.
“I’m not your messiah.”
Alisson said and lifted Enhérejär up. Alisson hadn’t only retreated just to catch his breath, Enhérejär had silently shifted into a backsword.
“Mm, not now you aren’t, but you have the makings of one, yes.”
She smugly smiled with a shrug and closed eyes, lifting her scythe up at the ready. Alisson took the initiative and surged forward. He would try to keep battlefield control for as long as he could, and put as much pressure on the Maiden to hopefully keep her on the back foot. Breaking his hopes, the Maiden dashed forward as well, eager to not hand control over to Alisson so easily. He bobbed under her initial strike – A longer weapon would always get to strike first – and slashed horizontally at her.
What she did next completely betrayed his expectation, he was thinking that this Maiden would not be agile in the slightest due to her using a polearm…however, it turned out she was more like Lady Salchyon than Alisson thought.
She slammed the head of the scythe that Alisson had dodged into the nearby cobblestone ground, and, she used it like a lever, or wedge, and launched herself into the air, above and around Alisson. It all happened so fast that Alisson didn’t even see her follow-up attack until it slammed into Enhérejär; He was thankful for his training, that was for sure. The Maiden had leapt over Alisson in a brilliant display of both agility and skill, she’d used the heavy weight and length of her weapon to maneuver herself.
Lady Salchyon didn’t use such methods due to the shape of her voulge’s blade, but Alisson realized that a scythe’s curved blade would allow for such lever-like propulsion and maneuvering were someone strong enough to abuse it. She’d been able to do this, and attack before Alisson had even the time to turn to identify her – He only managed to just barely place Enhérejär in between himself and a strike that would’ve most certainly been his last were it not for his impulses.
Alisson was losing the blade lock before him, Enhérejär was being pushed away by her superior strength. He could see her smile widening in his peripheral vision, plainly deriving satisfaction over being more physically strong that him. Most fighters were more physically strong than Alisson, so it didn’t exactly bother him, but her demeaning grin didn’t help. He planned to strike the moment she stopped pushing against Enhérejär, he was confident he could thrust Enhérejär into her throat faster than she could whip her scythe around to strike him. It was an odd feeling, to see the other end of her weapon in his peripheral vision, just behind her back, shining and glimmering, seeming so far away; yet Alisson knew very well that was a mere second away from being brought around to lop of his head in the stead of the other end.
Another second passed and Alisson gasped out in surprise.
He should’ve expected it, he should’ve had the possibility in his head, any novice would know the trick; but caught in all the confusion of her earlier maneuver, Alisson hadn’t thought too deeply.
The Maiden had purposely not used her full strength in the lock before Alisson; And when she suddenly pushed back on Enhérejär, sending it flying away and leaving Alisson completely defenseless, he was wholly bewildered. The other end of her scythe came, and it came hard.
Alisson felt her scythe rip into his gut, where there was no steel plate or heavy mail for mobility’s sake. He hadn’t the time to yell out in pain when she swung around the scythe’s other end for a follow up attack. Alisson’s frantic backstep had managed to save his life, for her second attack just grazed his cheek – It had been heading for his neck. By the time her third attack came, a mere second from the first strike, he’d been able to bring Enhérejär back up to his defense, and he was able to parry her scythe away with ease thanks to the increasing distance Alisson was putting between him and the Maiden.
Thankfully, it seemed the Maiden didn’t continue the advance, and she brought her weapon vertically to her side in victory, with a wide grin.
It was then that Alisson allowed himself to yelp out in pain, he grinded his teeth and clutched his belly with his free hand. Celis wasn’t by his side, and his tonic wasn’t a fix-all end-all to any wound; He’d have to continue fighting with this massive incision in his abdomen.
“Cutting it a little close there aren’t we?”
She beamed loudly. Alisson scowled at her.
“Go to hell!”
“Why thank you! You look stunning too!”
The Maiden said whilst leaning in with a demeaning stare. She gave a lick down the length of the blade that had cut open Alisson, lapping up his blood that had been splattered across it.
“Delicious…You must have some fantastic genes, skilled, intelligent, and…” She licked her lips whilst eyeing him, “…Good looking. Why, yes, if they let me, I think I’ll have you!”
Her face redoubled in another crazed smile, and she brought her scythe up, and broke into a dash toward Alisson. It looked like she wasn’t going to give him any respite. He stowed the pain that was assaulting his gut, and prepared himself.
…
Being in love…being in love…being in love…
That word, that’s what I’ve been missing, what I’ve been forgetting.
So…I…I’m…in love. That, that doesn’t make any sense! Surely that’s not me, love, love is…what is it? I, I think it’s something above friendship. Alisson and me, we’re friends. That’s all. But…Tsuhara, Sylph, Ukuri and Oda…their all friends, right? If they are, then, no…they can’t be friends…I don’t feel attached to them, not like Alisson…so either they aren’t friends, or…Alisson isn’t a friend…
So that’s it then. I’m in love. I, I don’t how long I’ve been like this, and, I don’t know what it means, but, here I am…
I smile to myself melancholically for whatever reason.
“…Mm….You, have found you’re meaning…then.”
I looked up to Dereleg ‘Bol.
“Meaning?”
He looked at me for a long moment.
“Everbody…has their own meaning. They all have to find it…it theirs to live for, it is, the meaning…of their life.”
He fell silent for a moment.
“My, Klänsmen…they all had their own meanings…Mm…Mine used to be, to survive…and to reproduce…Hmph. Simple, isn’t it?”
He seemed to chuckle to himself.
“That…is because I gave up, halfway through…Now, I have my magic, and I have my wisdom…that’s all I need for meaning now…”
Meaning...he means the meaning of life, as whole. Everyone needs to find out for themselves, huh…
Again, I sit up and start pushing the covers off, but this time I’m not cut short.
I yelp as a sudden needle of pain shoots through my body. All around my body, I feel strains and cuts, already healed over, that are howling for rest and sleep.
I push through them with eyes that flicker under pain, and shut my mouth so that I don’t cry out. Not forgetting to grab the grimoire, I wobbly stand off the bed. I limp weakly to Dereleg ‘Bol’s workbench as he watches me like a hawk from his stool. I stop in front of the workbench and grab my weapons, I skillfully affix them to my person through pained movements, my body twitching every few seconds with another bolt of pain from my motion.
I walk to the door, the pain finally starting to numb. I lay a hand on the handle.
“And…where…do, you think, you are going?”
“To my master.”
I’m ‘in love’ with him after all…I need to be by his side.
…
The Maiden’s attacks came, and just as Alisson wanted to avoid, she pounded his defense with crashing scythe after crashing scythe, Alisson could hardly keep up with Enhérejär and evading was out of the question with his massive wound. Eventually, she did break through, and a single slash was uninterrupted by his blade in its motion toward his body.
Thankfully, it bounced harmlessly off a pauldron. That was only the first in a long series of increasingly frequent attacks that broke through his panicked parries. One headed for his face – Which he was able to barely avoid with a bob of his head. Eventually, Alisson had a chance to counterattack, and, being on the backfoot, took it immediately. He realized in time that it had been a trap, and he corrected himself accordingly, and was able to parry and break through her own counterattack, winning himself a clean strike on her collar.
As he pulled out Enhérejär to retreat, another swing of her scythe came in retaliation and it clipped him in the abdomen once more. He staggered back as he gagged in pain, clutching his belly again.
“Ooo you’re a sly one! I guess I got a little too confident huh…”
She pondered. Through her nonchalant attitude, Alisson could see that she was clearly putting on an act, and that she wasn’t as unhindered as she let on. Her chest bobbed up and down with fatigue, and Alisson could hear her breath heavily in-between words. But her vitality was infinitely better than his own. He could barely stand now, blood soaked his gambeson in numerous places, and his ears pulsed hotly as his muscles were screaming out with tire and injury. His breaths were heavy and his whole body heaved with his lungs.
Despite this, he only breathed through his teeth and an angry frown, not wanting to audibilize his weakness. He saw out of the corner of his vision,
Clouds, nearing the red moon.
He locked his vision on the Maiden. She smiled at him, tilting her head. Then, she was gone. All the cultists were gone. That was because the light of the moon no longer splashed it’s red rays across the area, blocked by a single cloud.
Alisson dashed forward through his pain. He neared the spot where the Maiden had been and went behind it, and lifted Enhérejär, prepared to strike. The cloud quickly passed, and…
“Gah-!”
He was struck in the back with an immense force, he’d been poked with the tip of a scythe. He stumbled forward a way. When he got his bearings, he saw the area now bathed in red again, as he expected, but the Maiden had been behind him when the moon was unblocked.
“Yeah…sorry to break it to you kid, but it’s a two-way street, I can see you just fine. What, did you think I just ceased to exist or something?”
Alisson clenched Enhérejär tighter, it wobbled in his grip from both pain and anger.
“Hmm…I’ll be safe, just this once. I don’t need to be made a fool of and you look like the kind of guy to do that…Tell you what, you’re cursed.”
Alisson didn’t respond, he just glared at her.
“Well, not really…” She leaned in at him, and shot a few glances at the surrounding cultists and then whispered to him with a deviously large smile, “…It’s just another way of saying you’re a virgin. I can tell, you know~?”
She leaned back.
“But…that’s just a figure of speech, now though…”
She lifted a hand at him.
“…I’ll curse you for real.”
Alisson would’ve laughed if it weren’t for his pain and fatigue. What was she going to do? Cast one of her dark rituals on him? Please, such things were comical to him.
Contrary to his own self-assurance, a black shadow formed at her hand for a moment. It was like a large and distorted worm, though it was very opaque and hard to see.
Alisson squinted in suspicion. The Maiden clenched her hand, and the shadow disappeared. She then put her hand to her hip, smiling expectantly.
A moment passed, and just about when he was going to mock her-
A tight knot suddenly formed in his throat. It was like something had been jammed into the depths of his body. The knot quickly crawled up his throat and into his mouth.
Alisson coughed up a mouthful of blood. It was dark, and was oddly viscous. It ran down the corner of his mouth as he sputtered, coughing like an old man. He almost fell to his knees before the fit wore off. He glared at the Maiden with anger, wiping away the blood from his mouth.
“Well now that that’s out of the way, I think it’s time we wrap up out here…There getting a little rowdy…and that means that He is getting impatient.”
Alisson could see what the Maiden was talking about; The surrounding cultists seemed to be shaking side to side slightly, and their eyes were pulsing, as if seething with anger.
As she lifted her scythe in slow motion before him, Alisson’s mind rushed.
He had numerous questions, most chiefly about that ‘Curse’ that she’d been talking about, and about why in the hell had he just coughed up a mouthful of blood, but those were not relevant to the fight about to proceed him, so he shoved them deep in his mind for later.
As it was now, Alisson was going to lose.
There was no debate about it. He was more fatigued, more injured, and for the most part, he seemed outmatched.
He clenched his fist tighter.
I can’t lose! I’ve been far too conservative so far!
It was time to use his Opensen; and it was time to use some consumable items. With that little lock lifted upon himself, he might have a chance of pulling himself out of this steep ditch. He hated the thought of using his Opensen so publicly, but it was better than dying, or becoming this cult’s doll, whatever they had planned for him.
He was Alisson Vi Nuam, 51st Field Marshal and a Nekomata of Sidonia. Losing to the likes of this backcountry filth would be a stain on not only the pride of himself, but his comrades. He had a job to do.
With that small dose of reassurance, he was able to successfully wave off the very real thoughts of surrender building in his mind. Giving a look around to all the surrounding cultists, in this unfamiliar town, stranded without backup…
He shook his head to clear his mind. He suddenly remembered of that time on the Ipithid Plain, where he’d broke down crying for whatever reason. Alisson suddenly had the desire to be embraced by Celis again. A wave of embarrassment at the remembrance of the event and of his own apparent fondness for it washed over him. Someone was waiting for him outside the walls of this damnable city. That someone was the someone who’d been there when so many times before had there been no one. The more he thought about it, the more he was galvanized, and soon, he was wrapped in an aura of invincibility:
There’s no way I’ll lose-!
With the manifestation of his true self; the strength gap would be bridged, and he could ignore the pain of his wounds. He’d also have a large agility advantage. Soon, it was almost funny to him that he’d been on the brink of surrender.
As the Maiden took her first step forward in slow motion, Alisson finally made up his mind on a strategy, and activated his Opensen. He didn’t wait to gage a reaction or to look menacing, he charged full speed at the Maiden through the flash of light that came with his manifestation. The Maiden was surprised and took a step back as Enhérejär crashed against her scythe. He didn’t stop there. Enhérejär’s blade split into two rivers that ebbed around the Maiden’s scythe and shot for her directly. He could see the Maiden’s eyes visibly open in a panic.
She gave a twist to her scythe, and it split into shafts each with a blade, held in each of her hands. She raised her newly exposed aces up to Enhérejär’s sneak attack and just barely managed to block it, catching the rivers of Enhérejär in the beards of the scythes.
Alisson, still holding the hilt of Enhérejär, was not idle. He stabbed forth, even though that Enhérejär hadn’t the time to form a useable point on the hilt. The Maiden was too flustered to realize this, and still attempted to evade. She tilted her scythes sideways and bobbed past Alisson, evading around all three vector’s of his offense. She continued backing up and putting distance between herself and Alisson, seeing this, Alisson pressed the attack once more.
His tails reached into his cloak and withdrew a knife each as he surged toward the retreating Maiden. Enhérejär impacted on her scythes with a visible shockwave of air, Alisson pushing his entire body into his strike. His tails continued forward however, and went around the Maiden’s scythes that were locked down by their blade clash with Enhérejär. The Maiden yelped but it was too late and she hadn’t been expecting such an attack. Alisson’s tails, wrapped around knifes, impacted on both the Maiden’s shoulders. The damage was minimal thanks to his tails’ weakness, but it still tore flesh and drew blood. The Maiden swung her scythes at his tails, and if Alisson hadn’t expected the counterattack, his tails would’ve been cut right then and there. They barely managed to retreat back to Alisson side out of the way of her swinging scythes.
The Maiden’s center was completely exposed by her overreaction to Alisson’s tails. Enhérejär was too close to be thrusted without a rev, so he punched forward with his offhand straight into the Maiden’s face; A second after his gauntleted fist impacted, he spun on his ankle and sent a roundhouse kick soaring into her stomach. She was sent sliding back from the force of Alisson’s kick and then retreated a few quick hops as well. She was breathing heavily, and a stream of blood ran down her nose from Alisson’s punch.
“Hoo-hoo, you may look cute with those ears and tails but you’re one son of a bitch!”
She spat, wiping away the blood streaming down her face with a knuckle.
Despite her words’ anger, she was still smiling, though evidently from her bobbing chest and shaky expression, she was most definitely in pain. She brought her scythes together lengthwise and turned both of them against each other’s end. A click was heard and she lifted up her now full-length double bladed scythe.
If that’s the case…
Alisson gave a whip to Enhérejär and it promptly clicked into a rapier within a moment.
This was the status-quo once more. Both parties were injured, and were fully ready to be attacked or to attack. Alisson had just landed a good deal of damage on the Maiden, but now that she was ready and knowing of his Opensen’s activation, it’d be tougher to break through. If he had to guess, the Maiden and himself were very evenly matched in power. He needed to end things sooner or later, he couldn’t very well be sitting out in this mystery town surrounded by this ocean of cultists for the rest of the night trying to whittle down the Maiden.
Alisson thumbed a flask on his belt with his offhand, an idea forming.
The Maiden gave her scythe a flare, spinning it around until she held it with both hands, its end pointed squarely at Alisson. Step by step, she slowly started to creep toward Alisson. Alisson sunk into a fencing stance immediately, and began the pre-battle creep toward his opponent as well. With his rapier, against that polearm, he should have the edge in swordplay. He was proud to admit that in a practice bout sparring, using only thrusting weapons in a duel, he was quite unmatched in Sidonia. Of course, on the battlefield, a gentleman’s duel wasn’t exactly common.
The two of them neared ever closer, approaching that fateful distance of engagement; the both of them knew exactly what that distance was now that they’d fought each other a good deal. So, within the span of a single step from both parties, Alisson and the Maiden broke into blurs, charging at each other.
She was first to strike with a quick and small jab at Enhérejär. Alisson easily bobbed his blade around her scythe, he then thrust high and at her face. Taking the feint, the Maiden swung her scythe round, trying to intercept Enhérejär with the other end of her scythe. Alisson disengaged before Enhérejär was caught by her parry however, and he thrusted low toward the Maiden’s belly. Both of the Maiden’s blade ends of her polearm were out of the way, so, running out of options, she forcibly shoved the shaft of her scythe at Alisson’s rapier. It was fast, but Alisson was of course faster. With a deft flick of his wrist, Enhérejär easily avoided her attempted parry, and it surged, unhindered, straight into the Maiden’s chest.
She grunted loudly in pain but didn’t loosen her grip on her weapon. She swung at him with a bladed edge of her scythe, like trying to swat Alisson away. Enhérejär was impaled in her chest and couldn’t be brought to his defense, so he could either call off his attack and retreat; or go deep.
He went deep, bobbing under her swing forward, and ending up right next to her chest. All the while as he’d closed the distance in his evasion, Alisson had pushed Enhérejär deeper into the Maiden, and it was poking through on the other side of her. Alisson’s tails had also joined in the gap in defense, and had plunged their knives above and below where Enhérejär had struck.
Alisson didn’t exactly fancy meeting the sharp end of the Maiden’s retaliatory strike, so he pulled out Enhérejär and his tail-wrapped knives as he continued past the Maiden. With a roll across the coble road, he had just barely avoided the Maiden’s scythe again. Alisson put distance between the two of them, and when he saw the Maiden stumble back in pain, about to make one of her annoying quips again, he sprung his idea.
His offhand shot for a flask on his belt, and, pulling it off in a crisp motion, he threw it as hard as he could toward the Maiden. He then prepared to throw a second valuable item…
The Maiden smiled at his thrown flask, as if taunting his stupidity for thinking such a slow-moving item would really do anything. She gave her scythe a swipe, and it swatted away the flask.
Or, would have. The flask was made of but weak clay. It shattered. Its contents kept flowing through the air and splattered onto the Maiden. She looked down at her dress, and before she even had the chance to open her mouth, Alisson’s second thrown weapon came, much faster than the first. It was one of his knives. It detonated toward the Maiden in a cloud of white, burning, gas.
What happened to the Maiden next, he could only describe as her immediately becoming as bright as the sun, easily shining through the thick gas that enveloped her. Her screams were vile, and horrid to listen to. All of the surrounding cultists were glaring at the Maiden, and Alisson decided that now was the time to make an escape. The gate that was near him was locked up tight, so the only path was over the walls, the same as his apprentice. So, he picked a building and leapt over some cultists toward it.
And it was good too that he decided to flee. Once he clambered onto a surrounding building over the heads of the cultists, around the corners of the surrounding roads, three of those ogre-like monsters thundered into view. They were locked on to Alisson.
He didn’t wait to see what would happen next. Amidst the scream of the Maiden, and the thundering footsteps of those monsters, Alisson shot a glance at a building near the wall of the town, and double timed it over there. He pushed through his gaping wounds, reminding himself that despite the current situation, he was not alone.
…
Dereleg ‘Bol had, thankfully, led our horses back to his abode with me in tow. Outside of his cabin, three horses were grazing. So, I mounted my mare, and took lead of the stallion, and set off. I travelled through the thick cedar forest for all of five minutes when I heard another horse approach from behind me. When I turned to look, I saw Dereleg ‘Bol atop a horse, the horse that had been at the cabin that wasn’t ours.
“Why, why are you following me?”
I ask as his horse comes side by side with mine.
“Do you think…that I’m going to leave, an injured girl all on her own? Here…I’ll lead you back to where I found you. It is, further this way…”
“Ah…t-thank you.”
His horse veered a little to the right, and I followed. I saw that he was now wearing what looked to be an old hauberk, and he also had that sword that he’d almost killed me with strapped to his back. His horse, unlike the mare and the stallion, was only bound in a leather harness, and not clad in any armor or pouches like me and Alisson’s steeds.
It wasn’t long before we got to a road and started down it in a quick trot. My eyes scanned everywhere. For all I know, Alisson could have escaped, and succumbed to his wounds somewhere. He could also still be fighting in the city; if that’s the case, I should have the mana to perform a breakout action.
What if he’s dead?
What if I can’t find him?
What if he’ll be angry for not coming sooner?
I shiver at my fears.
Dereleg ‘Bol stops at the top of a hill in the road.
“Hmm…Is that him…then?”
The grip on my reigns tighten. My mare trots up to the hill. I can see a bundle of fighting further down the road. There’s a few dozen cultists, there large conical hoods and red eyes shock me back to the reality of the past hours’ events. I don’t think; I give the reigns of my mare a whip, and, letting go of the stallion’s lead, I surge toward the battle.
While dashing toward it a breakneck pace, my heart soars in glee when I see Alisson emerge from the crowd. He has his Opensen activated…and…he’s covered in blood and wounds…-!
He jumped out of them, seeming to throw single knife in his wake. I hear it, a loud explosion. Half of the cultist forces are engulfed in a large cloud of smoke and debris.
He flipped through the air with an elegant aerial maneuver, skillfully evading a crescendo of knives whilst just barely being out of the radius of the explosion. I see Alisson land, cutting down a few cultists.
But, they were all over him in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t kill them fast enough. One behind him rose a glimmering sheen of metal, about to impale Alisson from behind-
“Pictun!”
A single spell kills the cultists bastard, followed up a dozen more that clear the area around Alisson. I dismount forward off my mare with a jump. Drawing my baselards, I cut my way through a few cultists, trying to reach Alisson. Despite the combat, I, I couldn’t contain myself, and all I wanted to do was to hug Alisson. I spot him amongst the cultists, but, before I can head for him…
More cultists pour out of the surrounding forest.
Tch! We’re going to get surrounded just like last time!
Before I can leap into action however…
Two blue and large crystalline spikes come from further down the road, and obliterate the cultist reinforcements on either side of me with large explosions that make the ground under me quake. They’re followed up by what look to be a dozen of the common magic missile spells, they thin out the cultists considerably, all of them splitting their own ways and splashing over a cultist each with their vaporizing heat.
I cut down a couple standing near me, and before I know it the last cultist hits the ground over near Alisson. By the time Alisson turned, he was met by me almost crashing into him with a hug. He stumbled back a few steps, bewildered by my sudden embrace with such force. I see a massive wound on his stomach, and numerous more around his body. Almost every piece of his armor is janked in one way or another. I immediately initiate healing spells on him with last of my mana.
“Alisson-!”
I say out in happiness, still clutching him. He seemed at a loss for words, his face blank and his mouth parted in surprise. I see him shake his head; so before he starts to realize what I’m doing, I quickly recoil away, still healing him with a contempt smile.
“Celis. You’re alive…thank Sidonia. I didn’t think I’d be so long, I, I apologize; a certain someone made me outstay my welcome. But…”
He eyed further down the road, toward Dereleg ‘Bol, who I think was the one responsible for the powerful crystal spells and the magic missiles.
“He’s…friendly…”
I say.
“…for now…”
I whisper under my breath so that only Alisson with his Opensen-enhanced hearing can hear. Alisson nodded sternly as his gaze set on Dereleg ‘Bol, who dismounted a way’s away and started to approach us.
“Nekomata…I…figured….as much.”
Dereleg ‘Bol sai-! Wait! He see’s Alisson’s Opensen! But…I’ll let Alisson decide what to do. I can’t usurp him, as much as I want to kill Dereleg ‘Bol right here and now to cut ties with him, I can’t very well do that without hearing Alisson’s thoughts.
“What’s it to you, orc?”
Alisson asked suspiciously. Dereleg ‘Bol shrugged.
“Mm…You don’t see…many of your kind…around here…is all.”
Alisson smirked wryly at Dereleg ‘Bol’s response.
“Tell me, what is an orc doing in cult territory?”
“Well; I am Dereleg ‘Bol. I was a part of a scouting party…for my Klän…back when there was no, stupid, cult. We were attacked by some humans, they out numbered us…and, I was knocked out…on the field. When I woke up…nobody was left…nobody from my Klän, and no human soldiers…I hope….that the rest were able to make it back to the Klänlend…but I was stranded nonetheless. I had nowhere to go…so I’ve been around these parts ever since.”
No kidding…I remember the plethora of pelts and furs around the cabin.
“The cult…they don’t bother you?”
Alisson asked quizzically. Dereleg ‘Bol shook his head.
“They…come by every month…asking me to read their damn book…but I…shoo them away…just fine.”
…I don’t know whether he’s underplaying the cultists or if they’re really just knocking on his door and politely asking. Compared the cultists I’ve seen, those red eyed silent swarms, I can’t believe that they can be that courteous.
Ah…I’m out of mana.
I look over Alisson, and sure enough, all his wounds are healed.
Um…I, I might’ve used a little too many healing spells absentmindedly…woops. Healing doesn’t improve in quality depending on quantity of spells used, it only increases the speed of rejuvenation, so Alisson didn’t notice that I kinda sorta just dumped the rest of my mana into him…
“Celis, we need to get a move on. The faster we get out of cult lands, the better. Those cultists I was fighting chased me out of the town-”
He stopped short when he careened his head down the road, from where he supposedly had come from.
“Wha…”
“What is it, Alisson?”
“The town…it was right here a second ago…”
He doesn’t look to be lying.
“Dereleg ‘Bol…”
I ask.
“…Hm?”
“This place…”
“It’s where I found you, yes.”
So, the city, it’s, hallucinatory? Or…is it selectively seen? Or, is it in some sort of completely different dimension? I’d believe it, with that red sky and all that’s no longer present but was when the city had stood around here.
Alisson shook his head turning back to me.
“We only need to head a little more north, from there, we can head west into Tarakia, and get the hell out of this country.”
I nod my head.
“…You…are heading northwest?”
Alisson started to walk off toward a part of the road, and picked up a knife. It was burning hot. So Alisson used one of his magic knives, I figured as much.
“Yes. I trust you won’t tell anybody of us. I feel safer putting my faith in an orc than a human you see.”
The orc shrugged with a wry smile.
“Do you really think…that humans…would take words from an orc…?”
Alisson shrugged, sheathing the knife within his cloak.
“I suppose not. Now then, Celis. Let’s escape this human scum cult.”
He flicked his head to me, and we both mounted up promptly.
“Mm…You, think they are human?”
Dereleg ‘Bol says ominously. Alisson gave him an perplexed glance. Dereleg ‘Bol bent down and picked up a half evaporated cultist body that no longer had legs; it’s torso was evaporating into black mist quickly as Dereleg ‘Bol held it.
“See…for yourselves.”
He pulled the hood of the cultist up. What he revealed, made me recoil in disgust. It was like caricature, a skeleton, of someone’s face. The only thing was, it was made of bugs, and worms. They were unmoving, thankfully. They were all sorts of different colors and shapes and types, millipede and centipede looking things…okay there’s a lot of worm-like crap…Though, it was odd how they were all perfectly symmetrical to align and create the shape of a head and sockets for eyes. I can only imagine what the rest of the body is like…
Dereleg ‘Bol tossed the quickly evaporating corpse onto the road.
“Mm…I have a question…for you…Nekomata.”
Alisson glanced back to Dereleg ‘Bol, evidently a little disturbed.
“Would…would you let me travel with you?”
Dereleg ‘Bol asked. Alisson tilted his head with a frown.
“What’s in it for you?”
“I…I, I have been meaning to get back to my Klänlend. I know it is northwest of here, but, I don’t know specific directions and I’ve…never had the chance to find anybody to travel with all the humans about…”
Alisson stared at Dereleg ‘Bol for a moment.
“Hmph. We travel three days without rest at a time, and the roads we tread are dangerous. We are only heading to Pūshkinskaya, that town near the Freigat jungle, and no more. I recommend you find people who better match your destination.”
Dereleg ‘Bol smiled, before closing his eyes with a deep hum.
“Mm…I can carry my own weight, do not worry. I can defend myself just fine. If…it is true, that you are stopping at this, Pūshkinskaya, then…I suppose I will simply part ways with you there.”
Alisson glanced to me hesitantly.
“He’ll be useful to have while we’re still in cult territory with those spells of his.”
I say, standing up for Dereleg ‘Bol. Man, wanting to kill him to cut ties to welcoming him into our party…is there something wrong with me? I shake my head lightly.
“You make a good point…Fine then…you may accompany us, Dereleg ‘Bol.”
Dereleg ‘Bol tilted his head with a smile.
The three of us set off, Alisson finally deactivating his Opensen. As we trot down the road, I can only stare at Alisson’s hand, and, I almost reach out to it, for whatever reason. It was then that I realized how long it’d been since he patted my head…Why did he stop? Was…was it something I did?
…
“Well, here it is, Kretengar!”
Arciel said, stretching her back.
The 153rd, Kana, and Arciel and I have been traveling westward through Caliphate lands for the past couple weeks. Caliphate lands have treated us well, we weren’t ambushed by beasts much and no patrol groups have given too much hassle. At least, that was the inner Caliphate land, where there’s many more people and it’s more secure.
We’ve already ran into some beasts when we started getting into the eastward lands, nothing we couldn’t handle though.
Our two wagons rumbled quickly down the largely dirt road. Each wagon was pulled by six horses, and there was three mounted 153rd Platinum knights at the front, sides, and back of the wagon convoy. The wagons hold our supplies for traveling so far without stop. By having such a small group, we consume less and can move faster. As such, we haven’t stopped at any town or village to restock yet. Twenty people and a fuck-ton of horses can really get a move on. The wagons move on through the night as well, as we can shift who keeps escort. Horses apparently don’t sleep much to my surprise, we make frequent stops so that they can rest though.
We’ve just come to a halt at a city called Kretengar to restock our supplies. Arciel seemed ecstatic for the fresh air.
“It’s a shame we can’t stay longer. This city was built by the elves just like Daigoro, and that’s where I was taught magic by the School of Crafts, we won’t be dropping by there though.”
I pique a brow at her.
“The Andestine School of Crafts is not in Andestine?”
Arciel waved off my suspicious question.
“Yeah I get that a lot. It’s like, some big conspiracy or something; about how Andestine got a school in return for fighting a war against the elves with the Caliphate a while back. I don’t really care personally, any distance I can put between myself and my family is good distance.”
Not a thing I expected a noble whose so proud of them being a noble to say…
Well, for being this elven city, its walls are big, sure, but they look super old. Not to say they look weak but; the stone is covered with moss, some stones are cracked horribly, and some stones are missing entirely, like they fell out or something.
“Looks like they didn’t spend any money on their walls…”
I mumble.
“It’s same as this on the inside too. The real feat is the scale and original quality and how it’s been able to last so long without maintenance, the town’s residents can thank the elves for building such withstanding architecture. Replicating or fixing the elven buildings cost more than the upkeep of the entire Andestinian 1st Fleet for a month, so it’s not exactly like it’s a high priority if it still works. The same goes for Daigoro, but it’s even bigger than Kretengar.”
Arciel explains.
Everything’s already been arranged ahead of time, we come here for a few minutes at most, grab our supplies, and continue on. So, the convoy, me and Arciel included, have a great view of the city’s walls and nothing more. There are a few other carriages and merchants around here, going about the morning business as well, some of them spoke with Freudlin a way’s a way, most likely about our provisions.
“And what do you think you’re doing, trying to head north? You know the road’s have been closed due to the plague and crossing armies. All the convoys heading for Daigoro have been disbanded, what are you trying to do, go at it alone on the roads? Those Andestinians over there are only able to go through because they’ve got special clearance you know.”
As Arciel walked off to talk with Kana, I couldn’t help but overhear a conversation between a soldier and a merchant. Really, I can hear all the conversations in the area thanks to my hero-enhanced hearing, but it’s not exactly like I have the brain power to actually pay attention to all of them at once.
“Look, I know we’ve done this before but can you cut me a break? I told you already I’m not some scaredy cat. I’m getting to Daigoro to sell these furs no matter what you say, it makes my life a hell of a lot easier if you’d just let me go. For god’s sake, what do you care if I live or die?”
“I don’t. I’m just following orders. Besides, how the hell do you think you’re going to get to Daigoro if you’re not taking the road to the north from here?”
“Well,” The gray-haired merchant shrugged, “I use it all the time, you should know by now.”
“…The Ipithid Plain? Bel, we’ve talked about this, that place is dangerous!”
“And so what, I’ve been to plenty of danger before.” The merchant started off toward his wagon. “Hell, ‘sounds like us merchants are more fearless than you soldiers if you keep complaining like that.”
“Hmph. Well, I can’t exactly stop you if you’re going to use the Plain, but, be careful.”
“There’s no need to worry.”
The merchant said with a wave back at the guard as his wagon rumbled away.
Interesting. Some sort of shutdown due to a plague? And what’s so dangerous about a plain? I’ll have to ask Arciel about this.
“Supplies are set and loaded, sir.” A Platinum knight hollered to Freudlin.
Before I’m able to chit chat any longer, it looks like we’re setting out again.
“Alright everyone, mount up, we’re nearing on our target, no reason to lax now.”
Right. Alisson Vi Nuam. He won’t know what hit him. I’m itching for some payback, I’ll teach him what you get for messing with someone while they barely know left from right in a foreign world.
***