It wasn't often that Adam tried to make himself look threatening. But now, amidst this insanity, he knew himself to be an imposing sight.
Not only was the path through the lower decks set ablaze, Adam himself was also burning – or rather, his clothes were. His flesh might soon follow. The Stained Flames would shield him from the worst of it, but he hadn't tested the extent of his Talent's protection yet. Finding a safe way to measure that had been a challenge. As long as he was on fire, though, it would be difficult for the Ghost to hide in any water droplets that hadn't already evaporated.
Still, the Painter thought, even if you can't teleport around using the water anymore...it's not like my chances of beating you in a fair fight have gotten any better. His Stained Ink wrapped itself around his arms once more. But that's exactly why—Adam rushed forward—we're not fighting fair.
His attack wasn't meant to connect or even land against the monster. Instead, Adam's step forward was meant to land right outside the Ghost's range; just too far for his long limbs to reach, and just far enough for Adam to step on his shadow. Difference in rank be damned, the Lord Talent would have an effect regardless.
And that means...you're going to have to dodge, aren't you?
His hunch proved true. Until now, the Ghost had seemed abnormally wary of the Lord Talent, only unleashing its true terror upon the others once Adam was gone. As soon as Adam's foot neared him, the Ghost leaped to the side, then hopped numerous times in a circling motion, never taking his eyes off either Adam or the injured group.
"Cautious, aren't you?" Adam remarked, with a sneer. He's much stronger than me, even without the teleportation, he thought, calmly and coldly. If the monster has one weakness...it's that he's too careful.
I have to exploit that. Adam had never been particularly talented at much of anything. But whenever he was in direct competition with someone, he had a way of coming out ahead. Slowly...slowly, press his mind until he breaks. Let him self-destruct.
"Ah, guess you decided to settle for the tie, eh?" He deepened his sneer. "Going to run away and let me burn down the whole ship? Can't blame you. Being remembered as the monster who died in a draw against the Painter Lord is more glory than you deserve!"
I don't want to die, Adam's sense of reasoning muttered. I want to win, Adam's racing heart screamed. "Are you scared of me, little ghost?" Adam's lips said.
"Taunt me as you will, Painter." The Ghost felt less imposing now. It continued to carefully circle the group, his unnaturally long torso hunched over as if preparing to defend himself. "Baring my claws against the Talent of a Lord is a risky endeavor. Do you think me some sort of moronic creature, attacking prey without certainty of victory? One does not survive as long as I have without employing a degree of prudence."
And one did not defeat someone like Adam without being a little reckless. Giving the Painter time to think meant you were giving him the right to decide the time of your death. Good, he told himself. Wait for your chance. Let me talk. Let me kill you.
"Madman," Solara muttered, through a cough. Her injuries were severe, yet she was able to stand, albeit with some effort. "You're worse than insane – you're almost confident. Really think this is going to work out?"
"Yes." Adam had formed the first part of his plan earlier that day, and he'd managed to plan the rest while searching for fire downstairs. "I'm not a fan of it, though. Was hoping it wouldn't cost me much, but you had to go and die, didn't you?"
He laughed, then quickly lowered his voice, speaking in a serious tone. "Take these Orbs."
Despite what must have been a painful heat emanating from the fire on his clothes, Solara stumbled towards him to loudly protest, "I can't accept that! Adam, you told me yourself how little coin Penumbria has. I can never repay a debt like—"
"—The only time you can't repay a debt is when you're dead. There's no time to argue." The Ghost was watching them, waiting for its opportunity to attack. It could come at any moment. "Now! Use them now!!"
Reluctantly, Solara grabbed onto Adam's hand. He felt the Orbs transferred over to her. The Ghost merely watched, its claws at the ready.
Still not attacking...is he waiting for me to make my move first? Perfect. Go ahead and confuse procrastination for wisdom, jackass. There was no more time to waste – he needed to consider what assets he had available to work with. Fortunately, he had a few paintings of Solara prepared, both good and bad. That was one item down. Next...
"Ferrero, would your pride be wounded if I asked you to sit this one out?" Adam asked, in a solemn tone.
"Not at all." Ferrero let out a weak, bitter laugh. "This isn't a duel. I'm not too interested in participating, so long as we live."
"That's alright. You did more than enough – we couldn't have won without you." Look at me, Adam thought, with wry amusement. Already thinking we've won. This kind of confidence has always backfired on me. I've been winning too much lately...that's never good for my ego. "Just sit back and enjoy. As for the others..."
Adam looked at the fallen fighters. Valeria and Tenver had each lost an arm. Both were continuing to lose blood, and would soon be dead.
He glared at the detective first. "Stand up," he ordered, feeling a bit too much like Aspreay. Still, there was no time for manners. "Puppets won't die unless their core is destroyed – you said so yourself. Can you still move?"
Valeria twitched weakly. "Even if I won't die, the damage I took is...no. I cannot stand."
"Can you hold your sword?" Adam insisted.
"Yes."
"Then hold it forward." Adam didn't bother looking at Solara before telling her, "Help Valeria stand, and keep her steady." Without waiting for a reply or looking at the bleeding man, Adam declared loudly, "You don't get a speech – stand up, Tenver."
There was a brief silence. Solara made a sound of protest, but her effort of lifting Valeria stopped the sound from transforming into actual words. Nevertheless, Adam understood her objection. Tenver was unlike Valeria; the knight was liable to die if he continued to exert himself.
Adam had no choice but to ignore that understandable concern. "Until I became lord," he began, "you were my most supportive and only friend. After that, you became a smiling, murderous trickster that handed me more decapitated heads than drinks. If that's what you want to be...I won't stop you. But I'm not letting you take a nap when your insanity is needed most."
He lifted his hand and clenched his fist. "On your feet, Tenver. Come cause some violence with me."
At that, Tenver laughed, loudly and jovially. It was a casual sort of laughter, and if not for how he sometimes stopped to gasp desperately for air, or how he occasionally coughed up blood, he would have sounded just as he always had back in Penumbria.
Adam heard the sound of a sword stabbing into the ground, and then a man rising to his feet. He didn't need to look to see that Tenver had stumbled to his side, missing an arm, but not his sword. "What are your orders, my lord?"
The Lord of Penumbria glared straight at Auricio, the Ghost of Waters, and said, "Hey, you insufferable, parasitic prick – what's the matter? Afraid to attack first? Can't even attack unless I give you an opening?"
His question made the Ghost look less human than ever, causing it to twitch defensively and arch its back like a cat. "Naturally," it calmly stated. "Your Lord Talent would kill me. With my superior speed, I'd almost certainly kill you before you manage that...but 'almost' isn't good enough. I am no gambler – I am a survivor!"
"Mistaking decision paralysis for an intelligent pause is a sin most people make," Adam said. "For you, it will be your last."
The Painter drew a deep breath and grabbed his tablet. This would need some precise timing to pull off. First, he needed to exploit the caution that the Ghost had shown thus far. "My dear ghost...are you aware of how Valeria's Bloody Truth works?"
Auricio huffed in surprise. "I thought we were done with that silly distraction."
"Oh, of course not!" Adam said, feigning an intense shock of his own. "Have you forgotten? I said her ability was key to killing you."
"And you also said, Painter From The World of Ink, that solving this mystery was insufficient to give her steel the ability to cut through me."
Adam nodded. "That I did. But we'll be giving it even more power, you know? Truths don't have to be just about mysteries – they can be anything. And while Valeria might not have an exact understanding of how her ability works, I have a pretty decent theory, myself."
DON'T LET HIM KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN YOU'RE IN!
His shrieking thoughts were a stark contrast with his nonchalant voice. Around ten seconds prior, the fire on Adam's skin had started to burn. Not as much as regular flames would have on a normal person; rather, it was as if every few seconds his body suddenly remembered it was on fire, accepted the burn like it should, then went back to denying reality with magic. This was, he mused, the limit of the Stained Flames.
And he could not – would not – allow the Ghost to know that.
"Know what I think?" Adam said, with perfect serenity. "I think that what matters is how impossible the truth seems. For example, if she states something that seems absurd, then unravels that mystery to you...it just might strengthen her sword even more."
"And you think that would be enough to kill me?"
"No idea," he admitted. "Probably not." He swept his arm out, gesturing at everything around them. "But it would likely be enough to demolish this entire ship, although probably not the barrier. And as we established...that would kill you too, wouldn't it?"
The Lord of Painting laughed and grinned, both expressions equally mocking. "Someone who prides himself in being a 'survivor' wouldn't want to risk that. If you want to be absolutely, 100% certain that you'll live through this fight, then you're going to have to block the next strike of Valeria's sword."
It was an absurd claim, yet one Adam felt reasonably confident in making. While he had very little understanding of how Valeria's ability worked, he also knew the Ghost was acting far, far too careful. Why did he only eat people inside the ship when he's this strong? It had to be afraid of being chased by Hangmen. That mentality would limit what kind of moves the monster was capable of making. Hopefully, it would be enough.
No. It would be enough.
With that in mind, he set two timers on his tablet, then took another deep breath. If the Ghost was a survivor rather than a gambler, then Adam must have been his polar opposite.
"Catch," he said, tossing his tablet to Solara. The elf awkwardly grabbed it while still holding onto Valeria. "Don't you dare drop it," Adam instructed. "If you break it, I'll paint your Espada de Guerra figures the wrong colors on purpose. Keep looking at it the entire time - not the fight."
Adam paused. "Oh, and if you glance away for even a moment, we're all going to die." He retrieved a second item from his pocket and tossed it to her as well. "Grabbed some adhesive tape while I was downstairs. Use it to keep your eyes open."
Solara stared at the tablet and the tape in a mild daze, but she nodded all the same. Satisfied, Adam turned to face Valeria. There was only one last step to take. "You said you'd accept me as your lord, didn't you?" he asked.
"Of...of course, my lord." Every word felt like it could be Valeria's last, and yet in every word she still spent energy injecting irony into her tone. This woman, he knew, would die with a smirk on her face, whenever the day came. "Would you like me to swear an oath here? Seems ill-timed, but–"
"No." His voice was firm. "I want you to obey your lord's commands."
The detective needed only a brief pause. "As you wish."
Adam signaled for Tenver to ready himself. The two men bent their knees and readied themselves for what was to come. I don't have time to explain my plan, he thought, as he locked eyes with the knight. So...you'd better understand what I'm thinking right now.
"Repeat it in Bloody Truth," Adam thundered to Valeria, while still glaring at Tenver. "Say that every person present in this room will land a strike against the monster! Your mission is to solve the mystery behind my orders, detective!"
"By the end of this ship's journey, Ferrero, Solara, Tenver, Adam, and myself, Valeria, will each have landed a strike against the Ghost of Waters!" Valeria declared. Blood flowed from her bloody stump and into her blade. "Now go – finish this nightmare!"
The crucial moment was upon them. "Where?" Adam asked Tenver. It wasn't a full question, but it was all he could ask. Please understand what I'm getting at.
Tenver nodded. "Let's say it's a good thing they got my sword arm."
"Okay. On my command." Adam held his hand and waited for the timer to go off in his tablet. Amidst the fire, the smoke, and the chaos, he didn't wait for the faint, now almost familiar light to reach him before screaming, "NOW!"
Painter and Archer, Now-Lord and Once-Prince, Adam and Tenver, leaped together at the monster who was far stronger than them both. Unburdened by the curse of choice, Auricio readied its monstrous claws and swung. There was a small chance – perhaps one in a hundred – that the pair's strong friendship would lead to a miracle, slowing the attack down long enough for the Lord Talent to overtake the monster.
No such miracle occurred.
Nor had Adam counted on one.
Miracles come to those who deserve them, to the geniuses chosen by the heavens. I'm just some guy who forced my way here. I can't expect providence to save me. So instead—I'll do anything—WHATEVER IT TAKES!
When Auricio's deadly claws swung at the pair, Adam wrapped his Stained Ink around Tenver's remaining arm and pulled the man in front of him. He forced his knight to turn his body in a protective manner...
...and used him as a shield.
Tenver's head was sliced off cleanly by the attack. It allowed Adam a moment of freedom. A single chance, bought with his friend's sacrifice, to strike at the monster. Stepping on its shadow right then would have ended everything. If Adam were a genius, a man like Eric who pulled through even the most impossible of tasks, then the fight would have ended in that very moment.
But he wasn't, and it didn't.
"You were right, Painter," the Ghost mocked, as it moved through his side and slashed at him. "I was too careful. Looks like I could have killed you easily after all. Even sacrificing your friend wasn't enough."
So this is what dying feels like, Adam thought, a strange sense of calm about him. I...I guess I always wanted to know.
His head had been sliced cleanly off as well.
Adam could see his headless body growing more and distant as his vision narrowed. His voice died first. Try as he might, no screams came out. Maybe he hadn't even opened his mouth. That was when Adam realized he could no longer hear anything. Whether he had lost his sense of touch, or had been overwhelmed by that invading numbness, nothing felt like it mattered anymore.
A second passed. Then a minute. Then a year. At some point, Adam realized, with an odd acceptance, that his eyes were no longer working. The image of his headless body was merely imprinted on his consciousness.
It's like every last thing I have...that I am...is being...undone...
It was here that he died.
And it was there that the Ghost stalked towards Valeria, exuding an air of casual violence. "Your lord is dead, Puppet Detective." Auricio laughed. "Tell me. Do you feel despair? Do you feel fear? After witnessing that insufferable arrogance of yours all this time, I'd like to see you break before you die."
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Valeria was practically on the ground, her sword arm lowered and her blade pointed at the floor. Solara had collapsed a moment earlier, and her unconscious body was propping up the detective's, resulting in an awkward stance that made fighting impossible.
Auricio took a step forward. Each movement of his was a taunt. "Well, Puppet? Last chance!"
"Detectives are a wordy sort," Valeria managed to say. "We don't die with just a few words. Much better, says our creed, to die with the truth."
And so she stabbed at the Ghost.
He didn't bother to dodge. Instead, the blade stopped an inch before his skin, as if repelled by an invisible, powerful magnet. Their difference in rank had been established – without the Bloody Truth's declaration coming true, her weapon still wasn't strong enough.
"Do you know why I'm not in a hurry to kill you, Puppet?" Auricio asked. Once more his jaw expanded into a grin that was wider than the rest of his face. "Because even if I do nothing, you will die."
Valeria continued to press her sword in vain towards the monster's skin. "What do you mean?"
"Your Bloody Truth spoke an impossibility. You claimed that all of you would injure me. The duelist wounded me earlier, true, but the rest of you are dead. Once this ship completes its journey, and your statement is proven for the lie that it is, death shall visit you."
"Ah...I see." Valeria sighed weakly, and for a moment, her grip on her sword loosened. Still she did not drop it. "An understandable mistake, my ghost – but, a mistake nonetheless." Somehow, at death's door, the detective still found it necessary to inject a note of dry wit in her tone. "My claim has not yet been proven false. Were it truly a certain lie, then we wouldn't need to wait until we reached the Puppet Mines for my Talent to consume me."
The Ghost of Waters laughed. "And what sliver of hope could possibly remain? Does the Dark Sorcerer think you could prop up their corpses to stab me, so as to make your prediction technically true?"
"Mayhap that is a possibility," Valeria conceded. "The other one, of course...is that Lord Adam will kill you regardless."
"Seeing as I killed him," Auricio replied, "that would be most difficult."
Adam stepped on his shadow. "Difficult," the Lord of Painting agreed, calling upon his Talent, "but not impossible."
The Ghost whirled around in horror. A moment of stunned comprehension passed as it stared at the foot, touching its shadow. Face stricken with utter disbelief, his gaze drifted upwards, finding Adam standing there without so much as a scratch on him.
Surprise rapidly morphed into rage. With a bellow, the creature leapt forwards, its claws crying out for murder.
Adam wouldn't allow it. "Kneel," he commanded. Two Talents clashed violently, almost hesitantly, as if reality itself was unsure of whether the Talent of higher rank or higher quality should prevail. Bolts of lightning crackled between the clouds of their Talents, the electricity ricocheting off the surface and bouncing across the wooden floor, snapping at the burning flames that surrounded them. This rare clash of quality and rank was less a battle of strength and closer to a duel of wills.
And Adam knew he wouldn't lose out in a contest of stubbornness. "KNEEL!" he thundered.
The Ghost of Waters brought its unnatural knees crashing towards the floor, breaking the surface and splintering wooden fragments everywhere. "How! HOW! HOW! I KILLED YOU!"
"That," Adam said, breathing heavily, "I will allow Penumbria's first Pup–" He stopped, then shook his head to correct himself. "I will allow Penumbria's first Detective to explain."
"Gladly." Valeria pressed her sword against the monster. The tip was closer now, pushing skin back, nearly cutting it. "Earlier, Lord Adam handed his canvas to the Heiress of Gama, then waited until a strange sound came out of it. Seeing as he alluded to having 'stolen' your brother's Talent before...I believe he also stole her Talent of Resurrection."
Adam nodded. "Correct. I didn't think I could land a hit on him even while Tenver and I attacked together...but if he thought I was dead, he was bound to relax just a little." He had set two timers on his tablet. The first one would flash an image of a good painting of Solara's soul.
Valeria's Bloody Red sword thrust into the Ghost of Water's flesh, eliciting a wince of pain. "That...that is absurd!" Auricio snarled. "You sacrificed your own for this? She won't survive getting her Talent back!"
"Don't act like you have the moral high ground, serial killer," Adam coldly stated. After a moment, he shrugged. "But no, you're wrong.. Didn't you see me transferring my Orbs to her before? Our dear Lady bought her way back to life!"
A cruel world, this one. Even life and death could be negotiated with god – and he charged far too high a price for it. Not too different from Earth, honestly. "Have you forgotten what you told me yourself?" Adam continued.
"But it colored the way your Talent manifested. Tell me, Adam...have you really never wondered why you attained the ability of plagiarism?"
Adam's shoulders tightened. It was over half a year ago, and the memory pained him less now, but he still didn't want to think about it. What did it matter, anyway? Everything – everyone – was on a different world now. Focusing on what this conversation meant was more important. "You mean I'm not really using their Talents so much as...plagiarizing them?"
"Aye. It keeps you from the worst of curses, of course, though one could argue they will never reach the same potential the originals would."
"My ability doesn't steal Talents," Adam noted. "It plagiarizes them. When Solara increased her Rank with my Orbs, she strengthened her Resurrection Talent. Now it lets her revive twice a day, rather than just once. Even if I used up one of her deaths...she still has a spare."
The second timer went off.
"Speak of the devil," Adam said, happily. "Here's something I tested recently – even if Solara is unconscious, so long as her eyelids are open, it counts as her 'looking' at one of my paintings. Know what that means, Ghost?"
Valeria cut in. "Ah. This is the part where our dear grumpy elf returns to life as well, yes?"
Solara stabbed the Ghost of Waters with a knife. "So that's why you made me put this on," she said, through heavy breaths. A grimace settled onto her face as she reached up, tearing off the pieces of adhesive tape that she'd used to forcibly keep her eyes open. "Fucking hell. Tell me why next time...you have no idea how unpleasant this feels."
"What...what the devil are you speaking of?" Auricio protested. The Ghost struggled, attempting to free himself of his invisible chains, but Adam's Lordly order was absolute. "You – died on purpose? And the elf was not dead?"
Adam recalled something he'd heard years ago; that you could tell a person had been completely defeated when all they could do was repeatedly question the past. "So violent, so careful, so stupid," he replied, with a dispassionate tone.
As the Ghost's mouth fell open in shock, Valeria went on the offensive. "Lord Adam's plan was simple," she began. "He wanted you to kill him for two reasons. First – to lower your guard, giving him the chance to step on your shadow, of course."
Her sword dug deeper inside the monster's flesh. Ink flowed out of his wound like an unnatural river of black. "And second – because unraveling the mystery of his plan would strengthen this sword."
The detective's wrist turned, twirling the steel inside the monster and invoking agony within its being. "Remember, dear Ghost, that Lord Adam wasn't sure if his Lord Talent would be enough to kill you. He orchestrated these events to further sharpen my blade."
"But your Bloody Truth still lied!" the Ghost protested. "Even if the elf strengthened her resurrection, and the Painter plagiarized it, the Imperial brat has no such Talent! He is truly dead!"
Solara shifted a concerned gaze toward Adam. She seemed to be fearing exactly what the Ghost had described.
Guess it's time. "When Tenver dueled me earlier," Adam started, in a grave tone, "his logic pushed me to a corner. As only humans could have handled the key, and the key was obviously used, our only suspects were him and Captain Baltsar. Tenver asked me to claim that I was his witness – to lie for him. And what he was really asking was: 'Do you trust me?' The annoying bastard wanted to force an answer out of me."
Adam sighed. "He thought he succeeded. Tenver believed that by agreeing to lie for him, I'd answered his question. But that's not why I committed perjury, Ghost."
Without stepping closer, he clenched his fist to lift the Ghost up into the air, as Aspreay had once done to him. "I had another way of knowing he was innocent."
"What are you–"
A massive wooden arrow, so large and monstrous it could have been called a stake, went through the Ghost's chest and split the monster from its waist down.
Solara yelped in shock, but Adam only grinned. He'd suspected this for a while, and the entire trip had just confirmed it. You were testing me this whole time, weren't you? He wondered. Trying to figure out if you could trust me enough. Guess it was a scary thing to confess.
But he had been trying to tell Adam for a while, like a shy woman at a ball signaling her interest, hoping for confirmation before flirting in earnest. You goddamn fuckboy, you should've just said it outright.
"What the – the hell?" Solara asked, her eyes wide.
"How...no! NO!" the Ghost cried out. Its upper body was now staked against the wall, held in place by the massive arrow. "WHEN?"
Yeah. Tenver had been trying to be honest, in his own, shy way. He was worried about what they'd think, and he couldn't just say it outright when their potential rejection would put him at such risk.
"You idiot," Adam muttered. "I'd already suspected since learning you had a direct flight to the Puppet Mines on-hand. This would've been a lot easier if you'd just told me."
The late Emperor's mysterious trip, the bond Tenver forged with Captain Baltsar, the captain's reticence about losing a son...even the way Tenver seemed to always know about Adam's Stained Ink since the moment they'd met.
"They don't lose their souls when they become Hybrids, my lady," Captain Baltsar had said at the time."They just, well, get new limbs."
"Do not liken their transformation to a sailor with a peg leg," Solara had snapped. "Hybrids can survive even when their head is cut off. Only a living abomination is capable of such a feat. Be they Hybrids or Nexus, they're all monsters."
Adam turned around and smiled. "You don't look like a monster to me," he said, warmly. "I think you look pretty cool."
Tenver's headless body stood at the other side of the room. His shirt had been fully burned by the fire...revealing the truth behind his left arm to the world.
It was larger than his right arm had been, and made entirely of wood. The numerous joints, links, and screws made Adam think more of a robot than any magical creature. Two large, arched poles had emerged from the sides of his arm, a thick piece of string connecting the two. A large bolt appeared to move from inside of his prosthetic into the strange device, inserting itself into the weapon, loading his bow with a fresh arrow.
"So that's why you're an Archer," Adam casually remarked.
"Aye, my lord," Tenver's fallen head said. His body put away the oversized bow, then reached down to pick its head up. Throughout that, he never stopped talking. "Let's keep this a secret, if you don't mind. I hope you understand that this is a secret of mine – Father always told me to hide my transformation."
Tenver placed his own head underneath his arms. "You know, we should put out this fire soon," he laughed. "Might actually die if we don't." After a pause, he asked, in a more serious tone, "How long have you known?"
"No idea." Adam shrugged. "The difference between 'knowing' and 'suspecting' is kind of thin. Your reaction to Solara's comments about Puppet was my first indication, though. I was even more convinced after seeing Baltar's whole deal, and that he has – had a past with your father. And after our duel..."
His tone softened. "Well, I was beyond certain at that point. There's more, but you get the idea. I've figured you were a Puppet for a while now."
Tenver started to smirk, but the humor soon disappeared from his face. What was left was the most genuine, widest smile Adam had ever seen on him. It would have been heartwarming...if not for how unnerving it was to see that smile detached from the knight's body. Adam refused to give Tenver the satisfaction of looking away - the bastard was really having fun with this.
"Correct on all accounts," Tenver began, "except for one. When I asked you to lie, I wasn't asking you to trust me."
His voice lowered, and something resembling vulnerability flickered in his eyes. "I was...telling you that I trusted you."
"WHEN?" Auricio cried out. "BALTSAR DIDN'T KNOW – WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?"
"My father took a trip to the Puppet Mines," Tenver replied, awkwardly trying to adjust his head back onto his throat. "After my dear old uncle tried to kill me...and nearly succeeded. Father didn't tell Baltsar the purpose of the trip, and I don't think he wanted to dwell further, even if he had a strong suspicion."
He raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't you guess, though? Didn't you feel more out of control than usual? There were four Puppets aboard, after all."
"MONSTER!" the Ghost bellowed. "ALL OF YOU! BEINGS THAT WEREN'T MADE BY THE FIRST! UNNATURAL MONSTROSIT—"
Adam snapped his fingers. At once, the Ghost fell silent. The Lord of Painting took a second to examine its pitiful state; upper body pinned against the wall, and the shadow of its severed lower body pinned by Adam's foot. Even with its torso bisected, both halves still counted for the Lord Talent. "I could have killed you the moment I stepped onto your shadow. Do you know why I haven't, yet?"
There were a few reasons. To explain himself in explicit detail, to not have Solara too upset at him after this stunt, and to force Tenver to be honest with him. There was one specific reason, however, that Adam wanted Auricio to understand.
Suddenly the Ghost of Waters' face lit up. "You think you have a use for me," the Ghost said, wickedly. "You want my information on the First—on the laws—on the World of Ink."
"Tempting as it is, no. I believe there's nothing you know that the Puppets won't be able to tell me." He confirmed it by glancing at Tenver, who nodded. "One more chance. Think carefully. What reason could I have, after putting a cursed Ghost at my mercy, a monstrously powerful being who killed hundreds without remorse...for not killing you right away?"
Auricio seemed to shiver under Adam's gaze. He thought hard, but all he could come up with was a muted, plaintive, "What?"
"Because frankly speaking? You're not worth my time." With that, Adam nodded at Valeria. "Finish it."
"NO! I KNOW SO MUCH! MY POWER CAN BE OF MUCH USE! LISTEN–"
Solara was too stunned to help Valeria move. Ferrero, however, gently picked her up, bending his knees slightly to allow the detective to wrap her sword arm around his neck. She used him as support as they slowly marched toward the monster. Then, when they'd finally reached it, the duelist lifted her up so that she was in range.
Despite her wounds, despite her lost arm, despite the monster glaring at her – Valeria lifted her sword. When she spoke, it was in a tone that was simultaneously dry and victorious.
"This case is now closed."
The detective's sword came down.