Chapter Thirty-Eight: She likes you simping.

Dalalda looked at me, confused and scared. “If you were ever going to trust me,” I whispered to her. “Trust me now. This whole place could be going up at any moment, and you don’t want to be here.”

“All right,” she said. She gripped onto both trays and spun around. She zoomed out of the hall faster than I thought anyone could do gracefully.

Group Chat:

Regan: Titus and Eumenia aren’t in the banquet hall. They are using an illusion spell.

Jinx: Shit, now what.

Leoleth: Titus is outside the food room, standing guard.

Regan: Then I guess you and I are up. Everyone else: there are the officers at Table Two; they are Red Hooks and the backup. Be ready to hit them because they will be on us as soon as we make our move.

Jinx: We’ll be there.

Regan: Eric, kill that asshole and get over here.

Eric: On it.

I cast Face in the Crowd, tapped into my heavily depleted pool of inner coolness, and started moseying over to the west entrance that Titus went through.

I crossed to the wall and then casually moved to the door, hoping the table of assholes wouldn’t notice me. Keeping my eyes locked on the door, I plastered on a goofy face and even bounced a bit, trying to stay in character.

I placed my hand on the knob and allowed a glance back at the table. No eyes seemed to be on me. I imagine they were on chat with their own party and waiting for instructions. Those bastards were coming. I just didn’t know when.

“Oy!” A man shouted from behind the door I just opened.

I had just slipped through the door and on my third step when the scratchy ‘Oy!’ almost made me pee myself. The jump scare was the stuff of legends. I staggered a couple of steps, nearly fell over, and gripped my chest as I tried to catch my breath.

“Stop right there.” I froze with my back to him. I wasn’t about to move, and acting scared wasn’t hard. Any girl would be scared right now.

“Hands where I can see them.” I raised my hands even with my shoulders, spirit fingers wiggling. He sounded like a pirate from the movies.

“Aye then,” he said, much calmer. “Step on back here an’ turn ‘round.”

I turned around. And yes, the voice fit the man.

He was a pirate. A Long John Silver-style pirate. I mean, he had both legs, of course, but yeah, he was all sea dog. He had a chest-length beard that any dwarf would envy, braids with beads woven in. He wore the outfit, a long coat with a laced white shirt underneath a vest, long leather boots with folded-over cuffs at the top that flared outward, and a gods damn pirate hat. A bandolier across his chest held knives and blades of different kinds. He had a wicked-looking cutlass in his right hand. It looked old but well-maintained. However, the outfit looked clean, expensive, and in the same colors as the Empress’ dress.

“Uh,” I said meekly. “Hi.”

“An’ why’d ye be comin’ out o’ that door jus’ now, eh?”

“Because, sir,” I said. “The man that passed through here a few minutes ago asked me to.

“Did he now?”

“He did. Offered me a fair amount to join him for a little bit. Did you ask him his business for being down there?”

“He’s a guest,” the pirate man said. “Yer the help. Why didn’t ye go down together?”

“I imagine his lady would not appreciate what he gave me gold to do, sir.”

He gave me a long, penetrating look up and down. I kept my hands out. And imagined him running his strong pirate hands all over me. The blushing fired up on cue. I kept my eyes up, looked at the ceiling, did everything on the planet to avoid eye contact, and looked like I really had no idea what the big deal was.

“To be honest, sir,” I said after an awkward few moments of him just staring at me. “You are making me a little scared.” Full-on sheepish mode activated.

“Well,” he scratched his bearded chin and winked at me. “Ye’ve got nothin’ to fear from me. So long as ye’ve no intention o’ causin’ harm to yer betters.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

“Maybe deactivate that Face in the Crowd spell.” He said with a sly grin. “I imagine yer a whole lot prettier wi’out it.”

I froze, keeping the dumb look on my face, which was now easier to maintain since I felt like an idiot. An imperial guard could, of course, do a forced appraisal of me.

“Um…” I deactivated the spell. “Sorry, sir.”

“Aye, it be clear, lass, ye’re a sight fairer without all that cursed magic blockin’ yer natural charm.”

He looked at me with a new, appraising look. “And what be yer name, little elf?”

“Regan,” I said and paused. He raised his eyebrow at me. Not the time to fuck around. “Summer, sir.”

“I’ve a sworn duty tae perform, little Regan Summer. Don’t go makin’ it difficult for me tae keep ma word. Whatever business ye have wi’ the big fella down below, stays below. Do we have an understandin’?” With eyes locked with mine, he slid the cutlass back into the sheath.

“Yes, sir.” He was scary, but I figured if he were to do something, it would have happened already. It was more like he wanted to have a little fun messing with me.

“An’ after yer appointment, I’d better no’ be seein’ ye tryin’ tae enter through this ‘ere door again. I hope I don’t have tae be so crude as tae explain what’ll happen should ye try.”

“I won’t, sir.” I kept my eyes on him since he was seeing right through me.

“That’s all very well.” He smiled, his posture eased, and all business seemed to be concluded. “I bid ye a good evenin’, an’ the best o’ luck wi’ yer endeavors.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Nay,” he raised his finger at me with a wink. “That be Captain, Captain Wardell Brooks o’ her Imperial Highness’ Personal Guard.”

“Thank you, Captain Brooks.” I gave him a little curtsy.

He stepped back into the shadow behind the door. “Aye, then, be on yer way, little elf.”

I turned and hustled around the corner, getting about five yards before giving myself a second to catch my breath. I was confident beyond all reason that Brooks saw right through me. Which meant that the empress’ people would be on alert. That may not be as bad a thing as I thought. I would have told him everything if there was time, but I was already way behind schedule.

I switched to my new armor and boots, keeping the unlocked bracelet on my wrist, tucked under my sleeve, just in case. I fired off messages to the party, reminding them to stay out of sight, that I would be handling this, and to watch for the empress’ finest.

Like the rest of the utilitarian corridors of the palace, this area was dark, dreary, and more like a dungeon than an opulent home. I activated stealth and moved down the spiral stairs to the hall with the larder. My map showed that the area had a decentsized intersection in front of the door with plenty of space to play. I summoned my rapier and a couple of daggers, tucking one into my belt.

I slipped into the hall, and there, Titus stood less than ten yards away. He had ditched his formal wear for a loose-fitted red shirt, black tights, and knee-high boots. He was beautiful, even now, after I have grown to hate him. Hair, muscles, posture, a song from my old life entered my head:

…Yeah yeah, but he’s drop dead gorgeous…Yeah yeah. Drop dead…

I threw my dagger at him with full strength, aiming for his bare throat. The skill allowed me to throw the weapon at level five, my dagger skill. Sneak Attack would triple the damage, and One and Done could activate, ending this fight before it even started.

Not so much, however. With a flash of steel, I could barely see, he deflected the flying blade with his rapier. He had managed to pull it out of his storage, equip it, and use it to block it faster than I believed possible. Oh shit, oh fuck.

“Well,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Regan Summer.”

“Captain Cuck.”

He glared at me. No trace of any of his old charming self. “You are going to pay for every insult.” He stepped out from the door, his rapier up. He pulled a small buckler out of inventory and equipped it to his left arm.

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“You can save yourself a lot of trouble and just let me in there.”

“You think you have a chance?” he sneered. “The ritual is almost over; I just came down in case you or any of your weakling friends tried something.”

My stomach leaped into my throat. The needle moved from zero to near catastrophe in just a few minutes. I got ready to activate Sword Dance. I kept my face as blank as I could.

“So, you got promoted from lap dog to guard dog? Good for you.” I lined my body perpendicular to his, my rapier high, ready for the first attack. “Still a bitch, though.”

“Why do you even try?” He stepped toward me, his sword and shield down, daring me to attack. “I’m as close to a fucking god as you could ever hope to face. You think you’re so special that you will even last a second against me?”

“I’m all kinds of stupid, I guess.”

He lunged at me with explosive force, his sword raised high, and his shield arm coiled like a viper, ready to strike. I retreated a step, keeping my rapier poised between us like a lifeline. If he closed the gap too fast, my rapier would be worthless, and I’d have little chance of slipping a dagger past that damn shield. Yet, for all his ferocity, he left himself wide open. It was a glaring vulnerability that practically begged for a decisive strike.

I raised my dagger, and rather than step into the obvious ploy, I twisted to the side. I swung my rapier at his left thigh to try to land a hit. He parried the attack and gave me a lovely little backhand with the shield that sent me rolling across the room. I tightened the grip on my weapons and tucked in as best I could to keep from getting too messed up.

Surprisingly, the boots gripped the floor like super sneakers, and I almost tipped over from the awkward momentum.

I shook the stars away and readied my stance. A mild concussion debuff lit up, but it was only going to last about ten seconds or so. He was on me again before I could recover from the hit, slashing his blade across my breastplate; luckily, the armor took it. I was rolling backward, my weird boots keeping me from losing my footing.

I brought my dagger around, catching his sword arm with a nasty slash. He grunted with the pain and then growled at me. He rewarded me with a kick to the ribs. Again, the armor did its thing, but it was like getting kicked by a horse.

I stepped back, downing a healing potion before he managed to launch at me again, and the jostled bones in my side started to slide back to where they belonged.

He glowed with magic, and the wound on his arm closed immediately. He grinned. “All your little cuts don’t mean a thing.” He was right. He had years to build up his healing spell, which worked almost instantly. “You can’t hurt me, but I will enjoy taking you apart.”

“I’m...” I gasped, catching my breath and trying to keep the pain of shifting ribs under control. “...Thinking maybe I’m still not yours to kill.”

He kicked at me again, his face twisted with anger. “I’ll fucking kill you.” He stood back, his breath getting heavy.

“You said I wouldn’t last a second against you. You’re either a liar, or you’re just stupid.”

He came at me again, and I launched into Sword Dance because, hells, why not? I entered the rhythm of the fight, and bands of motion appeared in front of me as I moved. I spun under his attack as he kicked at my chest and brought my dagger up, catching him in a stab just under the rib cage and penetrating about an inch deep. I slipped it out and pushed back against his leg, giving myself enough space to attack with the rapier. Like before, he glowed, healing before I even moved on to the next attack.

I continued the dance, moving gracefully around his hulking form. My rapier found a home in the back of his right shoulder and then again on the back of his left calf. From there, I came back around, ducking under his left arm and driving my dagger up into it.

He cried in pain this time. He whacked me on the back of my coat with the hilt of his sword. Luckily, it absorbed the impact, but I was knocked forward, losing contact with him. He then landed a kick between my shoulders as I staggered. The force of his blow sent me airborne when I hit the wall, and some serious crunching reminded me of my arena fight with Daisy the Pit Queen. The blood stopped pouring from the cuts on him before I was even able to get my feet under me.

Debuffs about connective tissues in my arms being paralyzed and all that sinister stuff started rolling down my vision as my left arm went numb. My rapier clattered against the floor somewhere midflight, and I held onto my dagger as best I could.

I used the same strategy from the last time I was thrown into a wall. I started running to keep my distance from Titus, using my precious minor healing spell and a health potion. It would have been okay, too, if he hadn’t thrown his stupid shield Captain America style, clocking me on the back of the head.

I was getting my ass kicked. Blood gushed from the cut on my scalp as the thing ricocheted off and banged against the wall. I spun, spraying blood around. Thank the gods, the healing potion was still active, and the cut quickly knitted itself. I summoned another dagger, and I dove at him, slashing at his throat. His rapier was right up there, and I managed to get my hand away before losing a few fingers.

“Whoa,” I steadied my breath, backing away while he encroached. I summoned another dagger. I crouched as we circled, ready to move. “I met a lot of losers in my day, dudes who make female avatars just so they can watch their asses while they run, but you’re the saddest mother fucker I ever met.”

“Keep talking.” He snarled at me and gritted his teeth. “Little insect.”

“Why so mean?” I smiled. “You’re the big, strong one; the least you can do is be nice. It’s not like I can beat you.”

“Gods damn right, you can’t!”

“All I have to do is keep your dumb ass occupied.” I glanced over his right shoulder and winked. There wasn’t anyone back there, but the lughead had no idea. “You think I’m here alone?

“What?” he turned his head. Using all of my acrobatic skills, I jumped into a somersault in the air, revving up momentum. I planted both daggers solidly over each collarbone. I hung on to them like handles on a rollercoaster.

Titus roared, bringing his knee up right below my sternum and knocking me into the air. I kept my grip on the daggers, and they tore out chunks of his chest, blood spraying to the ceiling. I landed hard on my back and rolled to the side, dodging the inevitable stomps to follow.

His healing negated the attack, but he was losing his temper. He wanted so much to do something real to me. I found my rapier somehow and ditched a dagger to grab it and stood up.

“Wow!” I coughed. I bent over, my arm resting on my upper abs, where he landed the kick. “That really hurt.” I could tell no lies. “Are you done toying with me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you just gonna man the fuck up and gods damn kill me already!” I roared. “You pathetic piece of shit!”

“I will fucking kill you!”

“Really? Because I don’t think your mistress wants you to.” I moaned as a new wave of pain flashed through my abdomen; some shit was bleeding in there. “And everyone knows what a pussy you are.”

We were circling now. His eyes were wide, his fury building. “Does she even let you touch her?” I smiled. “I mean, she likes dudes too. She even told me that. Said she couldn’t wait to share me with one.”

“Liar!”

“She likes you simping. A muscle-bound bitch that will just sit in the corner and lick up her table scraps.”

“It’s not like that!”

“Maybe if you had a little self-respect…”

He roared and jumped, his dagger coming down. He was so unbalanced that I was able to dodge. We circled, and the pain in my gut was getting worse. My health was dipping below the fifty percent level. My arms were starting to get heavy. I wasn’t going to last much longer. I needed it to end soon.

“Have you ever wondered,” I grunted, standing up as straight as possible. “Why she doesn’t want you to kill me?”

“She doesn’t care if I kill you or not.” He growled, his sword up, ready to strike. Almost there, big boy.

“Oh…” I coughed, the blood starting to get into my lungs.

“She likes to fuck me more than you.”

“Bitch!”

“You see, I fight back. Even with all her mind control shit, I still stand up to her. She fucking loves it. Makes her all wet.”

I gave him my best sing-song, mean girl’s voice. “You will never be more than her limp little fawner. Fucking pathetic.”

He let out a bestial roar and charged at me; his rapier pointed right at the middle of my chest. I tried to move away, but there was no getting out from in front of that train. There was a crack as the blade penetrated my sternum, missing my heart, hopefully, but running me straight through. At least, that is what I thought happened since the pain was pretty much all I could focus on at that exact moment.

Red leaked into my vision as I looked up at Titus. Tears were streaming from my eyes as my breathing became labored. The diaphragm was probably ruptured, and I may be down by a lung, and I was pretty sure the electrical shocks I was feeling in my arms and legs were the death throws of my voluntary nervous system.

He gripped me hard with his left hand. His fingers dug into my shoulder, holding me up. I couldn’t move. He looked into my eyes and twisted the blade, sending new waves of agony through my body that I never even imagined possible. My health was dipping lower and lower. It was down, under ten percent, and sinking at a good pace. I think I had less than a minute.

“Why…” I cried weakly. My voice was barely audible. The blood pumping in my ears didn’t help. “Why Titus.” I could feel cold. A chill was gripping my body as the blood seeped around my insides in places it shouldn’t. I coughed, making pain ripple around me in different directions. “I…” I croaked the rest out in my broken breath. “I love you.”

His eyes went wide at the revelation. After all he had done to me and my friends, I loved him. I somehow managed to see past the beast to see the man within. He softened his gaze, letting go of the sword. I raised my left hand and gripped him by the wrist, pulling his hand to my cheek, my fading eyes locked with his. With what little strength I had left, I stroked his beautiful, strong arm.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his eyes welling with tears, reflecting emotion he never thought he could have. It was the love he wanted, the companionship he desperately needed, I someone who could see through the mask he wore and didn’t turn from him.

“I..” he started. “I’m so sorry…” He was so close to saying it. Oh, and I was pulling for him. I really wanted him to. But I couldn’t hold out long enough for him to get there, no matter how hilarious it would have been.

Click.

Pickpocket level increased

Pickpocket now level 4

+1 to Dexterity

+1 to Charisma

“Yeah,” I choked on the blood in my lungs, my breath starting to get a little too hard to catch. “You’re fucking sorry, all right.”

Titus pulled his arm out of my weakened grasp and stared wide-eyed at the locked magic-suppressing bracelet around his wrist.

“Gods!” Leoleth exclaimed as she shoved a dagger through the back of his throat. “You’re both insufferable!”

The blade jutted out of his Adam’s apple as she buried the thing to the hilt. Titus tried to speak, cry out, or something; I had no idea and didn’t give a shit. His mouth just kept opening and closing as bubbles of blood oozed out of his neck like an over-foaming soda bottle.

“No more heals, big guy,” I whispered since there wasn’t much air left to push the words out.

My girl left that blade in him and pulled out two more. She started stabbing him in the neck over and over with each one, blood spraying until she hit the carotid, and he erupted like Old Faithful, mostly on me.

For Titus Sybo, that was pretty much it. He kept his eyes on me, both of us dying and looking at each other, him in surprise and pain. Me, trying to say fuck you, you rapist asshole with mine.

“Shit!” she barked as his body started to fall on top of me and my shish-kabob body. We were past the point of pain, just a chill that ran through me as I looked up at the dim hallway around me; the few sources of light seemed blinding.

I felt like my body just splashed down into a swimming pool full of ice water.

I imagined the Unnamed God, looking down at me: So, uh, this is gonna be a bit weird…