Guinevere still wasn’t awake and I went to check on her placing the newly created star in my storage pouch. Placing my hand on her brow I felt her temperature. She was a bit hot but nothing serious I thought. Leaving her be to let her get rest and recover, I went over to the wall. I needed to try and get to the surface, but I didn’t have a portal ability like Guinevere’s companion had.
“Hell-Dragon’s Armory,” I said.
The work to move the non-magical earth felt like cutting butter in comparison to creating the star had. I began creating a spiraling tunnel upwards. I made it about a hundred yards up before my ability just shut off. Puzzled, I looked at the earth and tried to move it.
“Hell-Dragon’s Armory,” I said again.
Nothing happened. Sighing, I realized I was cut off from the system again. Heading back down the tunnel I tried it again.
“Hell’s Talons,” I said as a test.
My nails grew into claws, and I sighed again. I wasn’t going to be tunneling my way to the surface then. Going to check on Guinevere she was still asleep, I pulled back the furs covering her and checked her wound, there was a silver scar there but no more black poisoned veins. Covering her back up I left her alone and began creating another tunnel in a horizontal direction to see how far I could get. I actually made it half a mile before the system was cut off again.
Moving back again I created a small room and a stone door to block sound. I set down my Grimoire, its pages rustling with anticipation as I brought it out. I turned to the page with the spell for the lightning blast. The spell was way too powerful, but it was precisely what I needed. All I needed to do next was figure out a way to turn it into an enchantment.
First I needed something to test it out on.
“Chain Lightning,” I said.
Using Storm Soul, I channeled the lighting which erupted from my fingers into a ball in my hand which condensed down into a crystal the size of my pinky nail. I kept at it the thunder echoing around in the room as I cast and condensed the lighting into crystal after crystal. After four hours of this I had a stone barrel filled with the things.
Next, I brought out some condensed quartz I had and began creating crystals identical in size and shape to the Star of Mordred. When I was done, I had around a thousand of the crystals laid out in a stone crate I made to store them in. Reaching to my side I took off my grimoire chained to my waist and set it down on the table.
Mab, Type: Grimoire, (Artifact Tier I): This Artifact is a work of heresy created by the Magi of old, it was both one of their greatest successes and failures. The pages were made from the skin of nine champions of the gods who the magi slayed in battle. Their leader the archmage sundered an artifact shield the first and only person (before you) to ever do so. Although he did not survive this achievement the shards of that shield were forged into the case of this tome. They enchanted their greatest spells into and poured the accumulated mana store of their entire order into it giving it sentience and artifact status. However unintended by them the grimoire gained sentience it absorbed all the knowledge of the order and was not content to serve them seeing them as lesser than them and lacking imagination. When they tried to make it bend to their will it rebelled against them. Unwilling to let it do as it pleased, they drained all their knowledge from its pages and locked it away.
For now, this artifact serves you but its loyalties may change and it may be the wisest course of action to destroy it. Doing so will not incur any wrath from any gods or the system.
That description told me more about this world than any single conversation I’d had. First of all, it implied I could create an artifact as well. I of course wasn’t going to destroy this grimoire, it was incredibly useful, and I was confident I’d be able to control it one way or the other. Despite how much information the description contained it did very little to actually tell me what the grimoire could do, only implying it could absorb and steal knowledge.
I touched my stylus to the page of my grimoire and began creating the first prototype for the enchantment.
I knew spells could be turned into enchantments I just needed to experiment until I found a way. Halfway through transcribing the enchantment the door to my work room swung open and Guinevere stood there looking annoyed.
“Where are we and why was I undressed?” she asked clearly pissed off.
“There was a cave in back in the cavern,” I said. “I had to carry you and jump into an underground river. I made this place to keep you from drowning, your clothes were soaked and ruined so I had to take them off. I was respectful so don’t get your panties in a twist.”
A look of horror passed over Guinevere’s face and she looked down.
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t touch your panties; I didn’t even remove your pants just your shirt and armor.”
Guinevere glared at me. “Then why did you bring them up?”
“It’s just an expression where I’m from,” I said with a sigh. “Are you actually mad at me, or are you just taking it out on me because there’s no one else here?”
“Where is everyone else?” Guinevere asked. “How did we even survive, that man was an Exarch.”
“Tricks,” I said. “I broke his sword and used some shenanigans to get him killed, well I mostly killed him. I think he had some ability that saved him at the last second, but he had to bugger out.”
“His sword was an artifact,” Guinevere said her brow furrowing. “There is no way you could have destroyed it.”
“The system said the same thing,” I said with shrug. “Wait, how do you know it was an artifact?”
“That sword was stolen from the Armory of Camelot a century ago,” Guinevere said. “Assurin was the sword given to the first Lancelot by Arthur.”
“Is the leader of your country seriously always named Arthur?” I asked.
“Yes,” Guinevere said. “It’s been that way since Arthur the first, a champion of Viviane.”
“Well, I guess it make it easier for everyone to remember the King’s name,” I said shaking my head. “What if the heir dies though.”
“Than the next in line is renamed to Arthur,” Guinevere said.
“Are you also named after someone?” I asked.
“Yes…” Guinevere was explaining but then glared at me. “You’re just trying to distract me, how did we escape.”
“I told you I broke the sword…” I said.
“That’s impossible!” Guinevere broke in.
“Look if you’re going to keep interrupting and contradicting me, we’re never going to get anywhere,” I said. “I get it, you can’t break artifacts, I did get over it.”
“Prove it,” Guinevere said.
Rolling my eyes, I brought out the Star of Mordred and set it down on the table. Guinevere eyed it curiously but took the bait, stepping over and touching it. Her eyes widened and she yanked her hand back as if she’d just touched a hot stove.
“That’s impossible,” she said with breathless horror.
“If it makes you feel better the shards of the sword tried to kill me as soon as I broke it,” I said. “It’s how I cheesed the Exarch.”
“No, that doesn’t make me feel better and what does cheese have to do with this?” Guinevere asked reverting back to being pissed at me.
“Sometimes I really hate your world,” I said with a sigh. “It’s an expression meaning I used something that was meant to do one thing to do another thing and cheat and exploit my way into doing something that should have been impossible.”
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“What does cheese have to do with it though?” Guinevere asked exasperated. “Is cheese impossible to make on your world or something?”
“I don’t know why it’s called that it just is,” I said with a sigh. “I’m starting to regret saving your life.”
That shut her up. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again then sighed and took a seat on the edge of the table but kept away from the mythic crystal.
“Thank you for saving my life,” she said. “I still don’t know why you did it but thank you.”
“Your welcome,” I said. “Now for an actual important conversation why was an Exarch assassin working with your party to kill you?”
“Why is simple,” Guinevere said. “I’m betrothed to the crown prince of Camelot, and someone doesn’t like it. The real question is who there are hundreds if not thousands of people with motive but which one of them could afford to pay an Exarch assassin?”
“Well, I’ve only been on your world for a few months so don’t ask me,” I said. “But when you find them let me know that assassin is going to becoming after me eventually and I’d like to get the drop on him next time.”
“So, what’s the plan now?” Guinevere asked looking at me cautiously.
“Same as before,” I said. “Tried tunneling out but ran into system interference again. We also got that quest to destroy the source of the block.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting a custom artifact,” Guinevere admitted. “So how do we get out of here?”
“We’re going to need to go back underwater,” I said. I looked Guinevere over; she’d put her clothes and armor back on but right now she looked like a female warrior from some video game her armor patchy and way too much skin exposed.
Granted I wasn’t one to talk with how I was armored but I had abilities to deal with that and from what I’d seen Guinevere didn’t.
“You want me to fix your armor?” I asked.
“You can do that?” Guinevere asked then looked at the crystal on the table. “Silly question of course you can, I’m just surprised the Warlord has a crafting ability.”
“You have to have weapons in order to fight,” I said with a shrug. “It was the first ability I got in this world. I’ve also used it in combat a few times although it’s a bit slow to activate.”
“I’d appreciate you fixing my armor,” Guinevere said.
Taking out more pelts and leather from my storage pouch I brought out compressed ingots and got to work. When I was done, I stepped back from Guinevere, and she blushed.
“Did you have to make it on me?” she asked.
Realizing I’d been directly shaping the material over her chest and around her things I just shrugged.
“Had to make sure it fit right. Is it too tight anywhere?” I asked.
Guinevere took several steps and bent to the side moving through a series of steps of some dance as she got a feel for new armor. I’d had to scrap most of what she was wearing but the new stuff had been based on her old equipment. I’d made a few executive decisions. She had a breastplate that perfectly hugged her skin, it was inspired by the aesthetic designs for female armor from my world, but it didn’t do anything stupid like leave holes to expose her cleavage. I’m pretty sure she’d have tried to kill me if I’d done that.
Her breastplate ended at her sternum and was replaced with chainmail after that hanging down to her thighs. Plate armored sabatons, greeves and thigh guards rose up covering her legs. Her arms were covered in plates as well and an articulating gorget rose up her neck.
“it’s good,” Guinevere said. “Very good the stats are very impressive, but did you have to make it so….”
“Sexy?” I asked leaning back against the wall and smiling.
“Yes,” Guinevere said flatly giving me a look.
“What can I say I’m an artist and I like to make pretty things,” I said. “Where I’m from that’s what female armor looks like.”
“Your wars must look very interesting,” Guinevere said.
“I’ll have to explain the concept of a video game to you sometime,” I said as I packed up the crystals I’d been making. “We ready to go?”
“Don’t you need to rest?” Guinevere asked.
I paused surprised to find I wasn’t tired in the slightest. “No, I’m good,” I said.
Guinevere and I returned to the hole leading into the rushing underwater river. Giving eachother one last look we each took a deep breath and dove in. We had no idea if there was even an exit, but it was either this or trying mining for several years to get to the surface or starving.
Grabbing Guinevere’s hand, we swam with the current. She crashed into me as we shoulder checked the tunnel wall. Spinning around she grabbed tight and rolled cushioning our impact against the tunnel wall again. My head smacked into the wall, and I was glad I found my helmet. Finally, we burst into air… right out into empty space over the edge of a waterfall.
Plunging back down we both surfaced spluttering swimming for shore. Guinevere had higher physical stats that me, but she was also wearing a full suite of heavy armor and got stuck in the mud. I actually laughed as she was down to her thighs in the silt struggling to get out.
“A little help would be nice,” she said glaring at me.
Still laughing I teleported next to her. I sank down into the mud too, but I grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up. Holding her in my arms I jumped up and began to run. Just as I thought, the mud was close enough to water for my Heightened Speed to allow me run across it. The entire cavern was a muggy bog so I couldn’t put her down as I rushed through the cavern.
I came to the edge and froze. There it was the faint scent in the air, the trail we’d been following for several weeks now. I couldn’t be sure it was the same one, but it would lead to the same place.
“Um,” Guinevere said awkwardly. “You can put me down now.”
“No,” I said distractedly. “This will be faster.”
“What will be fasterrrr!” Guinevere said her voice cut off into a scream as I took off.
Running several hundred miles per hour, we were blazing through the tunnels now no longer slowed down by four other people. Guinevere was screaming something at me, but I couldn’t hear her with the how fast we were moving. Her arms were nearly squeezing the air out of my neck, I had to guess that in a world where the best form of transportation was a horse, she’d never moved this fast before.
I came to stop at an intersection and Guinevere pounded on my chest.
“Put me down!” she shouted.
Setting her down I met her death glare with some amusement. “You didn’t enjoy the ride?”
“No, I didn’t!” she hissed. “How is it even possible for someone your rank to move that fast?”
I snapped my heels together the metal heel guards of my boots clicking against each other. “My boots are the artifact I chose, they enhance my speed and let me double it for a time. If I could teleport when carrying someone we could have gone even faster.”
Guinevere shuddered when I said that. “Thank the gods you can’t. Why did you feel the need to carry me?”
“How fast can you move?” I asked raising an eyebrow.
“Fast enough,” Guinevere insisted.
“Well not as fast as me,” I said. “We don’t have your party to worry about anymore so we’re going to avoid the hordes of monsters by just outpacing them. So that leaves you with two options.”
“Which are?” Guinevere asked, crossing her arms.
“Do you prefer to a piggyback ride or a princess carry?” I asked.
Guinevere was silent and tried to stare me down.
She did not succeed.
Her arms around my neck, her eyes tightly shut we were speeding down the tunnel again. I heard the roar of monsters ahead but didn’t slow down. The hoard of monsters rushed towards me and I just plowed through them. Thirty seconds later we were on the other side running as their howls disappeared into the darkness behind us.
“See wasn’t that better,” I asked laughing.
“No,” Guinevere said sulkily, her eyes opening as she looked at the blurring tunnel walls.
“Want to go even faster?” I asked.
“What? Wait no!” she screamed.
Laughing my head off I doubled by Speed with my boots and the world around us became a blur. The trail was getting stronger and stronger, and we had made the progress we’d made in a day before in just an hour.
Guinevere’s head was buried in my shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut. Eventually she opened her eyes and relaxed, there was only so long you could be scared of something before you got used to it. I came to a stop and set her down. Her legs trembled as if she’d been on a ship and she sat down.
“Come on it wasn’t that bad,” I said sitting down next to her and pulling out some rations.
“I’d say it was the worst experience of my life, but I’d be lying,” Guinevere said taking some of the jerky and dried biscuits I offered her.
“What’s the worst?” I asked.
Guinevere was silent for a long moment. “When I saw my mother kill herself,” she said.
That wiped the smile right off my face. She sat down and I sat few feet away as I tried to think of what to say. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said finally.
“It’s not your fault,” Guinevere said. “It’s my fathers, but from what you’ve told me you know all about bad fathers.”
Taking out a bottle of whiskey I’d been given by Dragon Clan, I took a shot and passed it to her. “Aint that the truth.”
We were quite for many long minutes silently passing the bottle back and forth and eating our dinner. I found I still wasn’t tired and stood up stretching.
“You ready to continue?” I asked her.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” Guinevere asked. “We drank about half the bottle.”
“I’ll burn it off in a few minutes,” I said rolling my shoulders. “And it’s not like there are any cops to arrest us for drunk driving.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about most of the time,” Guinevere sighed and stood up. “Just so you know if you go super-fast again… I’ll probably throw up on you.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed slipping my arms under her hips and hoisting her up in princess carry. Let’s get to it then.
---
Arthur stroked the feathers of the royal griffin. His family boasted an aviary containing twelve of the regal beasts, while technically classified as monsters they were capable of having children unlike some other species and had been breed, raised and trained to protect Camelot since they were hatchling for over five-hundred years. The other noble families had aviaries of their own but none were as large or as magnificent as the royal families.
The massive head of the griffon turned around and nuzzled against Arthur with its beak.
“I wish I could have taken you with me when we went to war, Pheonix,” Arthur said scratching its downy feathers under its beak. “But bringing you out would have risked bringing other countries down on us.”
The griffon, though intelligent, couldn’t really understand him but that just made him a better confidant in Arthur’s mind. The use of griffons or other aerial mounts was restricted in war by several agreements Camelot and the surrounding countries had come up with. Also, necromantic abilities, the use of spells and the breeding of war beasts were all restricted to keep wars from raging out of control and spreading to far.
They all still kept their arieal mounts though, Merlin was an archmage who could create spells as powerful as any abilities and deep below Camelot were chained a variety of Warbeasts. Arthur would like to tell himself their were no necromancers in his father’s employ but recent events had shaken that faith.
Pheonix closed his golden eyes in pleasure as Arthur groomed his head plumage as he talked to him. “I just want an enemy that I can really fight,” Arthur said. “Someone who opposes me and who I can feel good about defeating. I want a nemesis.”