Alyx and Fioreya stared at one another, neither moving. Behind the other noblewoman, her team gathered, all as ichor stained but none particularly winded.
Vaisom Fang (Lvl 32)
Vaisom Swordsman (lvl 30)
Vaisom Ranger (lvl 28)
Vaisom Mage (lvl 29)
Marco had set Pellen down beside the far door. Salos had disappeared, but Cass could feel him nearby. She and Alyx stood in the center of the room, their weapons drawn, their breathing ragged.
Stamina: 40/129
Focus: 107/432
Health: 40/114
Both sides waited for their leader to make a move. Was this going to be a battle or a conversation? Would Alyx give up quietly, or was she about to start a futile fight?
“You’ve done well,” Fioreya commented, the tip of her sword resting on the end of her armored foot—at ease but not sheathed.
“Thanks,” Alyx said, her sword resting over her shoulder.
“But this is as far as you go,” Fioreya said. “I recommend you acknowledge your position and let us pass.”
“What position is that?” Alyx asked.
Fioreya snorted. “There is no need for bravado. You know as well as I that you are undeserving of a dragon’s bond. Let’s not waste the major blessing on you. Step aside now and I’ll take you up under my banner. Clearly, you have potential to have made it this far.”
Alyx laughed. “You’d do me that favor, huh? You’ll let me work for you?”
“I am a true daughter of house Veldor, an heir of the Grand Duchess. The most promising warrior of our generation.” The air flexed and twisted around Fioreya as she spoke. There was a weight to her words. They were intrinsically true. They hung with authority. “Just think what you would receive working for me you have to claw and fight for on your own? Think about what I can give you simply for supporting my path.
“There is no shame in admitting your place is not at the top. You are a lost child of a disgraced house, grudgingly taken in by your blood father on the orders of our grandmother because it would have been a greater embarrassment if you’d starved to death on the streets.
“This is not in and of itself shameful, but there is only so far you can go. Trying for more than you can handle, that’s the shame.”
Alyx’s hand clenched around her sword. “That so?”
“That’s simply how it is.” Fioreya shrugged. “Accept my favor. Let me raise you beyond the sad circumstances of your mother.”
Alyx shook her head. “If that’s all you see, then I can’t accept.”
“You’re refusing?” Fioreya asked, her sword rising to a low guard. The sigh in her voice was resigned, but not surprised.
Alyx’s arm engaged, holding her sword ready, though it hadn’t moved more than an inch off its resting place on her shoulder. “I am Alyx Aretios Veldor, daughter of Dragon Knight Aris and heir of the Grand Duchess. I will defeat you here and I will claim the major blessing of Alacrity.”
Alyx’s crown and sword flared to life with her aura. She glowed amber, brighter than the cold purple lights of the room.
They were doing this then. Cass gripped her staff, a Tempest Blade springing to life at the end. Salos stalked around to their flank. She could feel him waiting for an opening.
Marco stepped forward, his shield and sword ready.
Pellen forced herself to her feet at the far door, her eyes wide and her head flicking back and forth between Alyx and Fioreya.
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“Last chance,” Fioreya said. “Any who lay down their arms now will be spared.”
The noblewoman’s words rang with good sense. The average level on Fioreya’s side was much higher than on Alyx’s. Fioreya was only two levels lower than Marco, while her Ranger—her weakest companion—was twelve levels stronger than Salos—the lowest leveled member of Alyx’s team.
This was a losing battle. More so than Alyx’s struggles with the assassins in Uvana, more than against the Boar, more so than her and Pellen’s fight with the Wolf.
We should back out, Salos whispered. This isn’t our fight. We aren’t at our best and that woman could beat us even at her worst.
That good sense twisted around Cass. It was sticky and cold around her mind. Inevitable and yet?
Was she going to give up on Alyx at this point?
Status Effect (Noble Suggestions) Ignored.
“She’s using a social skill,” Cass announced. “Ignore her.”
Fioreya raised an eyebrow, regarding Cass for the first time.
Be that as it may, Salos muttered.
We aren’t abandoning Alyx here, Cass told him.
Fine, fine.
“W-wait! Are we doing this?” Pellen squeaked. She looked like a meerkat, her head jerking every which way for a way out.
“Flee if you must,” Alyx growled, “But I will not help you out of the Catacombs if you betray us now.”
Pellen’s face blanched.
“And I will personally find you the Concept Gem you wanted if you stay,” Alyx added.
Pellen’s knees shook, but she flipped her tome open with a nod. “I-I understand. Thank you!”
Fioreya snorted. “Is that all?”
“Last chance to let us go peacefully,” Alyx said.
Fioreya laughed. It was a cold, bitter thing. “You are in no position to negotiate such a thing from me. I should be offering that to you.”
“And I’d have to refuse,” Alyx said.
“So be it.” Fioreya burst forward. Her sword clashed with Alyx’s, their auras exploding in a sea of amber and electric blue.
Fioreya’s mage flicked his wrist, his wand tracing an intricate pattern in the air, and a set of twelve obsidian shards materialized above him. With another flick of the wrist, they shot forward, the vast majority of them aimed at Cass and Pellen.
Pellen was already chanting, but Cass had no idea how quickly the little mage would be done or if she could block all the projectiles. They moved slow enough Cass was confident she could Dodge them all. But could Pellen?
Time slowed as her Alacrity kicked her thoughts into high gear.
She could see Marco was pulling up his shield. It was glowing. He would block many of them with his skill.
Not all of them, though.
Salos had disappeared, though she could feel him through their bond, stalking around behind the mage. He’d prevent the next casting, but it was too late to stop this one.
Alyx was engaged with Fioreya, their swords locked in a contest, neither willing to break so soon.
That left Cass to do something.
She knew from the fight with the Keeper that Elemental Manipulation was not good at grabbing crystalline structures—or, at least, she was not adept in using it for that purpose. Add the fact she had yet to make stone float, Cass didn’t have any confidence she could meaningfully redirect them with that skill.
But that didn’t mean she was entirely out of luck.
She was undoubtedly faster than the projectiles. Her Wind-fueled Dexterity made sure of that. If she was fast enough to Dodge, could she possibly be fast enough to deflect them?
It was as good a plan as any other. Her body was already in motion toward Pellen, skirting out of the path of the ones aimed at her. Four struck the floor, missing her.
Five more were caught on Marco’s shield skill. They exploded into razor shards on impact, natural shrapnel.
That left three more still flying unerringly at their trembling mage.
Cass swung her staff, the Tempest Blade at its tip roaring to strike down her target.
The first stone went down, shrapnel exploding around her.
Cass’s eyes snapped shut instinctively to protect them, but Atmospheric Sense could still pinpoint the exact location of the last two.
Another swing, another explosion of obsidian shrapnel.
And then there was one, just outside Cass’s reach.
She leapt, reaching for it. Her staff connected, inches from Pellen’s face. Except, if it exploded here, the shrapnel would be worse than if she’d let the entire projectile skewer the mage.
But she couldn’t stop her staff now. It had already made impact. The obsidian projectile was already shattering. Pellen’s eyes flinched, her hands flew up over her face, impossibly slow to Cass’s Alacrity sped perception.
Each piece was tiny. There were hundreds of them. There was no way for her to catch them all.
But catching was the wrong framing. They just needed to go somewhere other than Pellen’s face. And the tiny fragments were plenty small enough for a strong wind to blow them off course.
Cass blasted Elemental Manipulation through her staff, directing her summoned gust down and to the right. It was a torrent of air. The shards scoured the floor, leaving a section of stone with intense scrapes.
Cass’s shoulders relaxed as the immediate danger passed. Only for Atmospheric Sense to scream a large body was approaching at speed.
Pellen shouted the last words of her Chant as Cass spun.
A barrier of dark blue force sprung into the space between Cass and their attacker.
It was Fioreya’s swordswoman.