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The Greatest Trick Ever Sold [LitRPG Progression Fantasy]
Chapter 36: Save the Master, Save the World

Chapter 36: Save the Master, Save the World

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Save the Master, Save the World

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There came a shriek so twisted it rent Bram’s heart to hear. It made him want to puke. For in his mind, Bram imagined he was no different from the two gods who had murdered Loveless’ innocence. Murdering her physically was another matter entirely though.

As he’d observed from their earlier confrontation, the mad nymph’s body was incredibly resilient to damage. Despite the near-lethal wounds he’d dealt her, Loveless didn’t seem near death at all.

“You!”

Loveless’ claws dug into Bram’s arms.

They rolled around on the ground while sharpened claws tore at his padded jacket so thoroughly that they raked against the flesh underneath.

“You!”

Bram spat out blood, but he wouldn’t yield. He couldn’t. He had done the unforgivable thing and there was no turning back for him now. Again, he pulled his broken sword out of Loveless’ side, and gambling that her host’s body wouldn’t die from another attack, stabbed her with its jagged blade a third time. This one was close enough to her chest that the mad nymph was forced to push him away. She kicked him so hard in the gut that Bram was sent careening back-first onto the wide trunk of the great red pine.

“Gaah!”

He crashed onto the ground feeling breathless with pain climbing up his spine.

“No…”

Notifications popped up around him, but Bram’s brain was too addled to pay them heed.

“Not yet…”

Through sheer force of will and stubbornness, the prince shrugged off the black spots hovering over his vision. He then rose back to his feet on shaky legs.

“I’m not allowed…to surrender…”

He reached for his sword, but it was gone. Lost in that last scuffle. Bram wouldn’t need it right away, however, because he was no longer facing Loveless alone.

“Boss!” Chris called.

Right on cue, Bram’s legs gave out, forcing him to stumble right into them.

“I’ve got him!” Hajime promised though it was clear that he struggled to keep the prince upright on his own. “I-I’ve…got…him!”

“Good!” Chris replied.

With Hajime lending his shoulder to Bram, the Texan was free to stand guard in front of them.

“Bridge, get the first-aid kit!” he ordered, adding “And hurry…she’s limping our way!”

Bridget arrived at Bram’s other side with the red backpack they stashed their party supplies in.

“Ser Anthony promised this healing gel would let even a half-dead, idiotic teenager”—she slapped a red packet onto the most garish of Bram’s wounds—“running off on his own without backup survive his dumb decision and get back in the fight.”

Her words were sharp like caltrops on bare feet because they possessed the sting of truth to them.

“Apologies,” Bram managed a wan smile, “I wasn’t thinking properly.”

“Obviously,” Bridget replied, though her anger waned quickly. “I’m glad you’re not dead…”

“That remains to be seen…” Bram glanced down. “…Oh.”

The mad nymph had done a number on his padded jacket. Its right side had been mostly ripped off him so that his chest was exposed to the elements.

“By the Loom,” Bridget whispered another catchphrase she’d invented for the game, “it’s working!”

The packet of red gel pressed against the torn flesh on Bram’s right chest had already stopped the wound from bleeding. With the blood clot induced, the healing process began. Quick as a snapping of one’s fingers, the wound stitched itself back together, closing into a red mass of scar tissue that would have taken a week to heal using conventional Earth treatments.

ALERT! With your chest injury healed, the [Bleeding] effect is diminished. Your HP has been restored to a third of its total.

HP: 94/280

“Sugoi,” Hajime said—to which Bridget added, “I thought Earth’s medicines were better than Aarde’s?”

“Only against diseases.” Bram peeled off the now dry packet from his chest. “Be vigilant…she’s here.”

The mad nymph limped into view from just beyond Chris’ shield. She looked as injured as Bram felt, with dark ichor dripping out of the many wounds he’d dealt her. However, the fury in her expression told the prince that she was far from surrendering. On the other hand, the healing gel may have patched him up, but there were still plenty of wounds in his body to keep him feeling weakened.

“You.”

Her voice seemed strained. It lacked the power she once displayed.

“You.”

Her limbs twitched with every step as if it were a great struggle to move her host’s body.

“Y—”

“Z-Zombie!” Hajime pointed.

He may have been the one who said it out loud, but everyone thought Hajime’s comparison was spot on. Even Bram. Though the prince assumed this strangely familiar but otherworldly word of Hajime’s was like the ‘draugr’ Ser Anthony used to warn a young Bram was the fate of bad children who skipped lessons.

“Dull boys who misbehave are kidnapped by dark sorcerers and turned into draugr by the blackest magics,” Ser Anthony once warned.

The old knight would often tickle the little boy whenever he applied scare tactics to a young Bram. In hindsight, Bram’s lack of fear for dark creatures like the ‘Walking Dead’ and ‘Hex Hags’ could be due to him enjoying Ser Anthony’s horror stories a little too much. For such moments, though far and few in between, were core memories of warmth and joy for the ill-fated prince who rarely experienced such childhood whimsies.

These days, Bram didn’t fear most monsters, though he couldn’t deny that seeing Loveless shuffling toward them while twitching uncontrollably was indeed a hair-raising sight.

“What the hell’s wrong with her?” Bridget asked.

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Laughter, both girlish and impish, filled the air, and that’s when the party realized why their foe acted so strangely. The trickster’s ritual must be working.

“Fee, fi, fo, fum,” a familiar voice resounded throughout the hall, “I smell the blood of a bad little nymph…”

Loveless’ head jerked upward.

“Be she living…”

In that instant, the nymph’s madness left her.

“Or be she dead…”

For madness was replaced by recognition…and fear.

“I’ll grind her bones…”

Rowan appeared next to the frightened Loveless as if she’d been thrown out of the shadows on the floor. A malicious grin flashed on the trickster’s face as her bloody hand shot forward to latch onto Loveless’ brow.

“…and see her dead.”

Terror—the kind Bram had witnessed only once before back when he’d seen an assassin of the White Rose flee the redheaded maiden that had slain his fellow assassins—was now expressed on Loveless’ face.

“I-It’s y-you,” she whimpered. “A-Ar—”

Rowan made a shushing sound just before crimson light flared out of her hand. This light spread out of her like a myriad of red threads that pierced into the nymph’s body—and then Loveless screamed.

“You should have aimed your ire on the gods who betrayed you…”

Despite her voice being no more than a whisper, they could all hear Rowan over the din of Loveless’ helpless screams.

“Yet you allowed yourself to be corrupted by those seven fools…”

A great deal of blood spilled from the nymph’s forehead. It spread down to cover her face.

“…and used your blessing to taint the minds of helpless children…”

Blood washed over her entire body, covering it in a coating of dark crimson.

“To bend others to your will, to force yourself on them, to do to them what was done to you…” There was the barest hint of sadness in Rowan’s voice. “To act like the hated gods…this I cannot forgive.”

As Rowan drew her hand back, the threads that were latched onto Loveless’ body receded too, and then the blood that coated her form was violently ripped off her.

“Holy shit,” Bridget whispered.

“Ditto,” Chris agreed.

The mass of blood that was torn off its body retained the form of the mad nymph. It struggled in Rowan’s clutches, its hands wailing against the trickster’s arm while its feet kicked in the air. It couldn’t escape Rowan’s hold though, for she held it aloft with a grip Bram recalled was as hard as steel.

As for the body she’d left behind, a change was beginning to show in it. For what was once flesh of a greenish hue was now turning back into the fair skin of a native-born of Lotharin. Her hair also lost its fiery tinge, replaced by long raven locks that lacked the supernatural luster they previously possessed.

“Guys,” Hajime called, “I think she’s no longer possessed.”

The pale-faced woman had just enough strength to turn her head and offer the party a grateful smile before she fell to her knees in exhaustion. She would have crashed hard on the ground too if Chris and Bram hadn’t jumped forward to catch her.

“Bridge!” The Texan yelled. “We need the first-aid kit!”

The blonde archer arrived a moment later with a blanket in her hands which she used to wrap around the pale-faced woman’s naked body.

“Here…this should help.” Bridget gently placed three red packets onto the three bloody holes in the pale-faced woman’s abdomen. “The nymph did a real number on you too, huh…”

Bram, who had the pale-faced woman wrapped in his arms, looked away in embarrassment. He didn’t mean to wound her so savagely, but he’d been caught in the heat of battle and whirling emotions.

Thank June she didn’t die from that…I gambled she wouldn’t, but still…

A hand brushed against his arm, forcing Bram’s gaze back onto the injured woman’s pale face. She didn’t yet have the strength to speak, but the clarity in her gaze was more than enough to convey her thanks.

Bram shook his head. “It’s not over yet…”

His gaze snapped back to the scene of Rowan subduing Loveless’ spirit. The nymph still struggled against her, desperate to flee the trickster’s touch, but Rowan held on while looking at ease.

The way she smiled impishly at a foe he’d had such trouble with sent pride swirling into Bram’s chest. Indeed, he’d found the perfect partner. There was no cause to believe the goddess’ lies.

“Oh, very well…” Rowan sighed exaggeratedly. “I shall give you a chance.”

Her crimson gaze slid over to where Bram, Chris, Hajime, and Bridget watched. A taunting grin appeared on her face. It was the face of a true trickster.

Seeing it made Bram frown. “Perhaps she wasn’t completely lying…”

“Who wasn’t lying?” Hajime asked.

Bram’s frown only deepened. “Wait for it…”

It didn’t take long for Rowan to express her intentions. “You’ve done admirably so far, but it's not enough to subdue a nymph in human form. Not if we’re to succeed in achieving all our goals…”

Then it was Hajime’s turn to frown. “Eh…?”

“If you otherworlders are to be the backbone of our great undertaking,” Rowan let go of Loveless’ spirit, “should we not attempt a more challenging trial of your abilities?”

It happened so quickly that all the party could do was watch in surprise as the spirit freed of the trickster’s clutches fled toward the great red pine towering over one end of the hall. Loveless’ spirit slipped into its trunk—and then the ground began to shake much more violently than before.

“Rowan, how could you?!” Bridget protested.

“I’m afraid I had to,” Rowan replied with a shrug. “‘Tis a matter of training.”

There came a loud groaning—the sound of a great machine beginning to turn its cogs after a long time of neglect. Thick greenish miasma billowed out from the roots of the great red pine like the exhaust fumes from one of Earth’s shiny auto-carriages.

ALERT! Poisonous [Miasma] is spreading through the air. Inhaling too much of it will render you with several possible status effects; [Low-grade Poison], [Fear], [Panic], [Paralysis], and [Confusion].

Chris looked annoyedly at the Loom’s message. “Talk about a revolting development…”

“We need to go,” Bridget warned.

They’d all backed away from the great red pine, though ten to fifteen yards suddenly didn’t seem far enough.

“It’s all right,” came a familiar voice. “I’ll handle this.”

Ravi Samal strode forward, past Chris’ shield, his steps carrying him closer to the thick miasma billowing toward them—and he didn’t arrive alone. Floating on Ravi’s shoulder was a strange-looking creature; a winged, fluffy white beast with big doe eyes and a rotund, wrinkly face to match its small, chubby form.

“Y’all have flying Frenchies over here?”

“I don’t think that’s a French Bulldog, Chris…”

“Bridget-san’s right. I can see it — the starlight wrapped around its body.”

If they were impressed with its appearance, what Ravi’s summon achieved next caused all their jaws to drop. Even Bram’s.

Just as the thick cloud of miasma reached the Shamvalan’s front, the fluffy beast flapping its gossamer wings beside him opened its mouth wide and unleashed a breath of air so powerful that it blew the miasma away, scattering it so thoroughly that most of its thick cloud was forced to dissipate, leaving only the dregs obscuring the great red pine untouched.

ALERT! The poisonous [Miasma] was successfully neutralized. You are no longer in danger of being poisoned.

“It’s not cheating.” Ravi glanced over his shoulder to look at Rowan. “I too am a member of this party, and, with his highness’ consent, shall become one of the backbones of the great undertaking.”

All who heard him understood the deeper meaning of his words. Finally, Ravi Samal, Vice Master of the Coven of Stargazers, was ready to pledge himself to their cause.

Bram glanced sideways at Rowan just in time to catch the smile that was quick to vanish, and he realized that this had been one of the reasons why she’d set the nymph free—party unity. Once more, Bram marveled at her capacity for intrigue in a way that would delight even his masters in the Delightful Troupe.

“You’re going to have to teach me how to think as you do one of these days,” Bram whispered.

“I’ve been teaching you since we met,” she whispered back.

As Ravi and his summon stepped back to where the others waited, the Shamvalan moved to grasp his master’s hand.

“Master Mina…” Ravi’s expression dripped with relief. “I’m sorry it took me so long to arrive…”

“I knew you would, Vice Master,” she replied in a raspy and strained voice. “You’ve made…interesting friends.”

“Yes, I know… They’re a very reliable bunch.”

With that said, the Shamvalan faced the prince who held Master Mina in his arms and bowed his head.

“You’ve kept your promise, Your Highness,” Ravi said in a tone of deep respect. “Now I will keep mine.”

“Ravi-san,” Hajime whispered.

The Japanese man wasn’t the only one in his party who stared teary-eyed at the Shamvalan. Everyone, even the prince, looked like he might shed a tear. In Bram’s defense, only one other Aarder had ever pledged true loyalty to him. Anyone other than Ser Anthony showing him such respect was a new experience for him.

“Raise your head, Vice Master,” Bram insisted. “The fight’s not over.”

It didn’t take long for the vestiges of miasma to settle, but when it did, the party witnessed something indescribable stepping out of the thick cloud.

“K-Kaiju!” Hajime yelled.

She was still half-veiled in miasma, but they were all sufficiently terrified by the parts of her that were exposed to them. The nymph’s final form was such a terror-inducing sight that even Rowan seemed impressed.

“Now you look like a proper challenge,” the trickster giggled.

Somehow, despite her body formed from tree bark, Loveless mostly retained the form she’d had when she possessed Master Mina. Only larger. Much larger.

“She must be twice the size of the treants we’d wrestled,” Chris pointed out.

Bram’s gaze drifted past her long, slender legs, up to the ample breasts nestling over her flat stomach, and higher, toward the oversized head that now showed the nymph’s true face. It was the horrible visage of a crooked hag who might have once been beautiful before she was cursed by a capricious god; a pair of deer antlers stuck out of red, needle-like hair framing a face darkened with a monster’s ichor.

“Steel yourselves, my friends!” Bram roared. “We’ll kill her properly this time…”