[Book II Chapter 129] HOPE: Being Bait
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“What are you doing out there all day?” Sonny asked. Hope winced internally. The loquacious guard was always on duty when she left in the morning, and she’d come to dread these pleasantries.
“I just like working somewhere isolated.” She lied.
“I see…” Sonny said, clearly not understanding. “Well, don’t hesitate to call for help if something comes up. I know you’re strong, but you can’t be too careful with this dark age. Everyone would devastated if something happened to you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She offered, passing the gate and fleeing quickly.
Since Clay Donnaster had abandoned her in Tristian almost a week ago, she’d begun handing out powerful enchantments to the town guard. In retrospect she should’ve guessed word of her generosity would get around. Now everywhere she went warm friendly smiles full of gratitude greeted her. Then free food and lodging had been foisted upon her too firmly to refuse. The situation was unbearable. If they only knew the horrible danger I’m placing them in…
Tristian was built at the top of a dome-shaped landmass. Descending along the west side, Hope jumped atop a floating boulder and entered her makeshift bunker. From this fortified position, she could engage with any approaching threats before they endangered the town.
She smirked. I’ll give Clay that, it is one nice aspect of my ‘cursed fate’. Thanks to her ability, an attack was pretty much guarantied to come from the direction she chose to stake out.
Opening a pouch, Hope began channeling when a howl echoed through the Twisted Land. Werewolves? She rushed to look down and saw flaming figures making their way up from the darkness far below.
Sending off a warning fairy, she took up her sniper riffle and fired. These were weighted bullets designed for their stopping power. Too fast to dodge, they struck their targets one by one. Unfortunately, the canines could feel them coming and erected fire barriers guard against them, preventing fatal hits. Despite this, the ponderous impacts sent them tumbling back down.
As the angry horde grew in numbers and got closer. She switched to her revolvers, allowing her to unload at twice the speed. She’d selected ice prison bullets this time, encasing her enemies in balls of ice which rolled off the winding strands of earth. Despite her efforts, the horde of beast drew closer.
Hope tensed. There are hundreds. I hate my cursed fate. She watched reluctantly as the first wave galloped up the hill towards Tristian… only to have the ground explode under them when she activated her buried land mines.
Still too many… There’s no choice. Decision made, she grabbed a handful of mithril bullets. Seconds later, Fourteen werewolves screeched and collapsed, disintegrating. While reloading furiously, suddenly she felt death approaching. Without thinking, she raised all her bunker’s defenses.
An attack descended from above with such force that Hope collided with the ceiling. She then smashed into the floor as her floating boulder was driven into the slope below from the unrelenting assault. With the walls around her buckling, she fired off a single bullet.
Instantly, she was hundreds of yards away. Looking back, she saw a red beam grinding her bunker into the earth. Her eyes widened when she realized it was a torrent of blood, and she was soaked in it.
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“Unpleasant, isn’t?” Said a voice besides her.
Hope tried to pivot towards this new opponent, only to find her feet were locked in a puddle of metal. She recognized it as grimsteel and knew she wouldn’t be able to pull free. “When? How?” She muttered in frustration, glancing up towards the woman in black lording over her.
“I’m Hestia Gristle, the dark oracle.” The necromancer declared haughtily, as if that was the only explanation required. “Now please drop your weapons. I’d have to kill you if you try using another teleportation bullet, and I don’t want that yet.”
Hope reluntantly complied as a man and another woman dropped down to join them.
“Everything wrapped up here?” The woman asked. This must be Eliza Farsong, the Blood Fanatic. Out of the dangers she might have attracted, three of Torak’s disciples might have been the worst.
“More or less,” Hestia replied. “But could you ask your husband to deal with those land mines? They’re slowing things down.”
“Torel?” The lady prompted.
“On it.” The man answered tiredly, jumping over to the rows of explosives Hope had prepared. She watched in amazement as he ran right through all of them, setting them off.
“Torel can make himself heavier than anyone else on Enera.” Hestia explained. “Your small firecrackers aren’t enough to send him flying. As for the damage, he isn’t known as the regenerate for nothing.”
“By the way, why is she still alive.” The woman full of bloodlust pointed towards Hope.
“Patience, I’m still questioning her.” Hestia answered. “She’s Astra’s child and has valuable intelligence on many subjects, including Earth’s End. I just wish she wasn’t so overly melodramatic.”
This is my opportunity too. “Why are you helping the werewolves?”
“That’s because of your brother, Wise.” “He’s been a bit of pain by preventing their numbers from rising the way they should have. This forced us to get personally involve.”
Hope frowned. “They’re so weak compared to you. Isn’t this just wasting your time?”
“You’re not wrong,” Eliza nodded. “But they have a quality which makes our efforts worthwhile.”
“What is that?” Hope asked.
Eliza grinned. “They’re disposable.”
Torel returned. “The land mines are gone, but the guards are putting up quite the fight. Should I go help?”
Hope glanced over to see many of her spells being unleashed by Tristian’s defenders. These were holding back the invaders, but their reserves of enchantments wouldn’t last. I can’t delay any longer.
“Allow me to share my ‘cursed fate’ with you.” She declared.
Hestia’s eyes, which had been staring far off, went wide. “Damn it, the future changed! The girl has a sublime vagary! Prepare yourselves.”
All three necromancers went flying as they were struck by an unseen attack. The same instant, the grimsteel holding her shattered. The figure of Clay Donnaster raced by, pursuing the necromancers. Meanwhile, the werewolves, noticing their masters’ retreat, also turned and fled.
Guess it all works out. Heaving a sigh of relief, she took a seat and listened to the distant sounds of battle. A few minutes later, her mentor returned and stood before her.
“Did you get them?” She asked.
Clay winced. “Sorry, after you risked your life to draw them out, I let them get away. Torel’s defensive abilities are insane, and it was hard to land hits with his interference.”
“I’m just shocked you chased off three former Masks of Xarst by yourself.” She said. “And here I was worried about how things would go once you showed up.”
“A well-prepared enchanter is a fearsome foe.” Clay smirked. “By liberally depleting our stock of enchantments, we can overwhelm normally stronger opponents.”
“Yet they escaped.” Hope reminded him.
Clay’s expression soured again. “I inflicted a great deal of damage, which will take them several days to recover from. This should hinder their activities, so it wasn’t a complete waste.”
“How did you know it was time to rescue me?” Hope asked “You never explained that part, and I’ve been losing sleep over it.”
A twenty-sided die appeared in Clay’s hand. “I paid a group of refugees to roll this over and over, day and night, until the number 1 came up five times in a row, after which they were to alert me.”
Hope took in this revelation. “I might’ve been even more anxious if I’d known this…”
Clay said nothing, staring intently at her. “What?” She stammered. “I was joking——”
“Sorry, I really did put you in danger” Clay interrupted. “I should’ve anticipated Hestia would involve herself. The only reason you’re alive is that she didn’t know about your sublime vagary. This is too risky to repeat.”
So I don’t have to be bait anymore? Great! “Are we resuming my training?” She asked excitedly.
“Soon, but not yet.” Clay replied. “First I must head for Messanic to join the operation against Mount Gull. You’ll have to make do on your own for a few more days.”