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New Reality: 31 August 1525, The Balkans - Paris

Returning to the village after successfully hunting a pack of mutated wolves, Ardent couldn't wait for a cold shower and breakfast. The cold water and the fresh morning were what he needed to keep his mind clean. It was the third day since Elisa's last message… It felt like an eternity… was she already over him?

The breakfast was hot, because it started with a short but intense love-making session with Myrtle, and continued with an omelet with plenty of bacon, accompanied by polenta. At the end, the phone buzzed. Finally! A message from her.

"Why are you smiling?" Myrtle inquired.

"Someone took Francis prisoner," he said blissfully, his eyes looking at the sky and the corners of his mouth almost reaching his ears.

"What? And why are you so happy about it?"

"Oh, that… Because I hope he'll learn his lesson… He's too trustful… Have to gather more information, sorry, will be back soon…"

He ran out of the hut in a hurry, texting on the way to the portal. It was only normal. He had to go to Rome and speak personally with Elisa. The news was too important. When he arrived at the village's portal and tried to activate his app, came the bad surprise: the portal to Rome didn't activate.

Calling Salvatore was only normal, but he didn't answer. Clement came next. "Hey, Clemy, what's up with your portal?"

The pope yelled some indistinguishable words to someone in the background, before addressing Ardent. "We have a monster invasion. We're retreated in the castle."

"Moment… I'll call you back." There was a call from Elisa. A call! "My lo… err… hi, Elisa, how are you," he tried to repair his mistake.

"I missed your voice," she said directly, making his knees shake. "We arrived in Rome but found the park filled with refugees. Monsters have appeared in town. I'm afraid for Valerie."

Ardent lowered his head, breathing heavily. As far as he knew, Elisa had a Rezz, and had a Fate Point to use on Valerie… but there was a chance it would not work. She was too young and didn't have the System.

"Ana should be able to make Valerie invisible—"

"Ana's not here. She was out in town and we couldn't wait. We managed to bring Dragon."

I wonder if she misses me, at least a little…

"Remember your shields are very strong and you have a lot of mana. If the worst is to come, get on the horse, he can fly and make himself invisible too. Let me speak with him."

"You're on speaker, he can hear you."

"Boy, hear me well. Protect Elisa and the little girl at all costs, do you understand me?" Ardent yelled.

A loud neigh answered. Ardent sighed, making up his mind. "It was good to hear your voice, dar... Elisa… I'll try to come to Rome as soon as possible, but I'll have to go through France first. Stay near the portal… Bye… I lo… take care."

She closed the call, but a heart emoji arrived. He pressed the phone over his own heart, which beat like it wanted to jump out of his chest. "Popa, fuck your mother in the ass, come here!" he screamed, noticing the priest walking around the clearing. Because alcohol didn't have any effect on him anymore, he collected poisonous herbs, adding them to the non-alcoholic beer Salvatore produced, to get intoxicated at least a bit.

"I'm busy," Martin said but approached.

"There's a monster infestation in Rome. Are you interested?"

"Of course," Martin rubbed his hands.

"Honey, I'm taking your papa on a mission!" Ardent yelled, amplifying his voice.

"…OK" Myrtle's yell arrived a few seconds later, with an echo from the woods. She was already foraging or hunting.

Ardent activated the portal, but this time setting the app for Paris. It worked. The next second, they arrived in the basements of the Louvre. After taking the stairs up, Ardent opened the door to the inner courtyard, then closed it back, cursing. It was crawling with hostiles. About twenty English soldiers, or so their coats of arms said, and the six elves he had met before. The French guards were tied together in a corner, three dozen or more of them.

"Fuck!"

"What?" Martin asked.

"A friend told me Francis had been taken prisoner, but it slipped my mind…" Because I was thinking only of seeing her again, his mind added. "There are twenty foes out there, and some are elves. I knew they'd betray us one day… I just knew!"

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Hm," Martin pondered, grabbing his chin. "And you want us to wait until their numbers grow, right? To make it fair?"

Ardent gasped but closed his jaw the next second. Martin had a point. When did superior numbers stop them? "I'll take the most dangerous elf out first, then the soldiers. You deal with the rest, taunt them or something. Mind they're very fast—"

"Doesn't matter," Matter shrugged. "If they come near me, being fast won't help."

Sighing, Ardent invoked multilayered protections over Martin, while thinking: Fuck, Francis, you have such a knack for getting into trouble… Then, he summoned Meantongue, opened the door, screamed, and took a Shadow Stepp forward:

"This is how you keep your word, you motherfuckers?" he yelled.

Ardent threw Meantongue around the Duelist's neck and pulled, activating all its new nice perks, including the new plasma vibro-blade coating. The head parted ways with the body, the first rolling on a side, the other collapsing on the ground with a muted thud. Both parts transformed into specks of light that disappeared afterward.

You have vanquished a Legendary Elven Duelist. +1 Level, +2 Fate Points. Warning: Unless their mana body is destroyed, Elves will Rezz in their closest Sanctuary (pocket universe). Be aware that they tend to come back with a vengeance.

"Yeah, let them come, I'll fuck their vengeance in the ass, today and tomorrow," Ardent sneered.

Meanwhile, the rest of the elves arranged themselves in a crescent pattern. "Face me if you dare!" the Elf Tank Taunted Martin.

"That's not a taunt, boy," Martin said, tricked by the Tank's short hair. "This is a taunt: I won't fuck you in your ass while you're screwing your mothers, because you might like it!" Martin's answer made all the elves beeline for him. That made the Archmage, the princess Ardent once tricked into thinking he was interested in her, interrupt some spell she was channeling, and try to hit Martin with her fists. A head butt sent her into the dreamlands.

As the priest was doing fine on his own, the condottiere concentrated on the English soldiers, making short work of them, while peeking at Martin with the corner of his eye. The elves had ganged up on the Juggernaut, landing a flurry of hits at the giant. Like the Archmage, the Tanks and the Ranger used their hands and feet instead of weapons, still Taunted. With his eyes closed, and sniffing around in the air, the priest was moving like in a dream, sending a jab now and then. His fists hit their targets with amazing precision. Each of his hits was a kill, sending the elves flying into shiny blue motes.

"Elves are so clean!" Martin said when all his targets were down, opening his eyes in amazement. "I could smell their soap a mile away. Bear's Smell, Epic Grade skill."

"How many Fate Points did you get?" Ardent asked with curiosity.

Martin waved his hand around and the younger warrior received a trade offer to get four FPs.

"I'll give you half if you do me a favor."

"Sure, pops," Ardent said in a jiffy. "What favor?"

"I don’t know yet," Martin frowned. "But it will be something of importance," he nodded.

"Very well," Ardent sighed, hoping the price would not come back to bite his ass. "Let's see if we can extract some information," Ardent said, slapping the only surviving elf, the princess. "C'mon, get up already!"

"No!" she screamed as soon she regained her senses, kicking her feet wildly. "Don't you dare defile me… Or… at least be gentle?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Don't you worry about that, Bitcheriel. You're not my type," Ardent said coldly, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look into his eyes. She started trembling, and he felt the tremor in his hand. "Why did you betray us? Tell me, or I'll cut your ears and make you eat them."

The elf's eyes showed their white, and then she fainted again.

"Pfff… and they say Elves are among the toughest races of the Multiverse," Ardent scoffed. He was about to slap her back to consciousness when his phone rang. It was Raphael, reporting the same news he had learned from Clement. After tasking the painter to protect Elisa, he summoned Meanwood. "We're in the Louvre, but it's been taken over by the English. Francis is their prisoner. Go Stealth mode and find where he is."

"Aye, master!" the mimic bellowed, activating his Stealth simultaneously.

For the next step, Ardent went to the French men-at-arms, cutting them free, using his normal sword.

"Thank you, sir!" the Sarge said.

"What happened here?"

"We were tricked. The Britton came to visit with a small entourage, and then that blonde bitch put a sleep spell on us… She sang so beautifully!" The man smiled blissfully, making Ardent wish to slap him. "Then they closed the gates and tied us."

[Meanwood]: The way is clear, Master, there are no more enemies inside the palace.

"Stay here," Ardent ordered the soldiers and headed inside the building, followed by Martin. Faint voices were coming from the ballroom. Meanwood was listening at the door and tried to say something, but Ardent dashed inside with his tongue sword at the ready, only to freeze the next second.

"Lesson one in parenting, spend quality time with your kids and play together. Whatever it takes, don’t teach them violence, like jousting. This way, they won't grow traumatized. Here, Henri, catch!" Francis threw a baseball toward a boy, but at the last moment, he noticed Ardent and missed, hitting his son in the face and making the boy erupt in tears and run out of the room through a backdoor. "Oh, hi, Ardent. I was just demonstrating to our guest, Henry of England, my parenting skills. I'm his prisoner, by the way."

"Not anymore," Ardent sighed, promising himself to stick with soccer with his future kids.

"So, I guess my men were beaten?" the English King said, unsheathing his sword and rising from his chair. "Know that I won't surrender without a fight. Come, Champion, and let's prove our mettle—"

"Martin!" Ardent yelled, turning his head back. "Please give this idiot a good trashing!"

The giant's entrance made a strong impression. Henry threw his sword on the carpet. "I'm good," he raised his hands in surrender.

"I guess you are my prisoner now," Francis exclaimed merrily. "Don't worry, you'll be treated well. I do hope we'll have the occasion to speak more. I can show you the merits of social jus—"

"Oh, just shut up! Do you have more druits or shit around?" Ardent asked Henry. "Tell me the truth, or else."

"They're called druids, not druits, you simpleton. I have six Fae, each stronger than an army," the king boasted. "They'll come to my rescue any moment now."

"Don't count on that. Francis, can you take care of things now? I have to rush to Rome, there's a monster infestation there."

"My God!" the French exclaimed. "Is Clemy safe?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking. Can you, for once, act responsibly?"

"But of course," Francis nodded. "There are no worries here, Henry's a gentleman, once he gave his word—"

"Whatever. You’re a Classed, if you can't deal with a fat normie on your own, you deserve to be killed. Let's go, Martin."