—Three days later, midnight. Two figures lay atop a small hill overlooking an encampment nearly half a kilometer away.
At that encampment were men of varying ages; most making merry, chatting, or sipping on a tankard of ale. Some still were already asleep. Several tanned hide tents, a few wooden fixtures, and guard towers decorated the area. Alcoves were carved into the stone walls by wind or rain, wherein many of the men had gathered or had places to lounge or sleep.
A cave enclosed by a wooden door appeared to house several more men inside it, though there hadn't been much foot traffic during the hour the two figures had observed it from a distance.
Yes, Amalia and Rozalin were watching from a distance, having finally tracked down the encampment. The beastkin lay upon thick grass, blending into the dark. Rozalin had applied a simple layer of Adaptive Coating to her flesh, becoming even less visible than her companion. It was partly cloudy, and the night dim.
Rozalin turned toward Amalia, "Their upper leadership is likely within that cave area. They appear drunk and tired by now. I'll sneak in while you stay on lookout."
"You said the Link distance should be fine from here?" Amalia asked uneasily.
"Yes, quite easily. If you see anyone approaching, let me know. Hiding will only take me a few seconds, but I won't be able to use Domain every single time I move. Camouflaging myself is enough of an expenditure. I need to preserve my Mana, so that's where you come in."
In truth, Rozalin didn't want Amalia anywhere near armed men. Just because they weren't a large threat to Rozalin didn't mean that applied to Amalia. Perhaps Amalia could take on one or even two of their weaker members, it was hard to say. But that was her limit. Rozalin was different.
With the protective mineral casing around her Core and a lack of enemy magicians, the risk was low. The past couple months had given the Slime some confidence and 'battle experience'. She was now familiar with her capabilities. And she'd spent much time observing for any would-be magic users or ranged threats within the camp. If nothing else, fleeing should be near-effortless.
"What should we do about saving those captives?" Amalia grimaced.
The two cast their attention to the side.
"There isn't anything to do," replied Rozalin, "It's not like I can sneak them out in front of almost two dozen armed fools."
The captives Amalia was referencing were several women and what looked like two younger children being held in a thick, wooden cage. It was covered by makeshift roofing. Those inside were wrapped in thick wool blankets. The living conditions seemed neither terribly sanitary nor comfortable.
"I don't like sitting here, doing nothing. Those people are in trouble," came Amalia's strained voice. Her fingers dug into the grass and dirt.
"So report these bandits to the town guards," Rozalin replied, slightly annoyed, "Not that they're likely to take your word or send enough personnel. It was troublesome enough finding this place."
Amalia could only quietly grit her teeth while Rozalin hammered on.
"Besides, you've informed me before that slavery was legal within certain situations. Perhaps all those people down there are debt-slaves or the like. Even if I disagree with such a barbaric practice, the law is still the law. True, some of them may have been enslaved illegally, and there's probably evidence of their misdeeds, but we can't know that beforehand."
The two grew quiet, with only a light grinding of Amalia's teeth preventing total silence. The wind briefly howled through the valleys and crevices of the rock landscape, rustling the grass like a green ocean below the moonlight.
Rozalin's tone grew somber and cold.
"Amalia, you need to consider your place and actions more. Even if you had the strength to free those slaves, what next? Those 'bandits' down there have all manner of background and circumstances. Some of them have family, others are likely mercenaries and ex-knights. Will you slay them all? Take on the legal and moral burden of ending their life? Any ex-knights especially?
"The captives below are likely without home, direction, and possibly in financial ruin. If they have nowhere to go and no one to turn to—what then? Will you protect and shelter them? Feed them? What if others continue to try enslaving them? What if they're mentally broken or refuse your help? Can you truly 'save' them?"
A patter! could be heard, followed by another.
"I can't," choked the girl, not bothering to use the Link.
Rozalin sighed deeply.
"... I'm not trying to be cruel, Amalia. You should know by now. I'm terrible at delicacy, and even worse at phrasing such things. I just want you to grow up realizing that desire alone isn't enough to change situations. You need more, and I think you know that. So bottle up those feelings for now. We've work to do."
The Slime woman rolled over, gently patting the wolfkin girl on the head. After a short while, some sniffling could be head. That stopped shortly after, until Amalia's mental voice finally transmitted over the Link, largely unaffected by the emotional mess her throat was in.
"I just, I just don't understand it, Roz. How can some people be so cruel to each other? So heartless? When I was growing up, I would've never been able to imagine things like this. Even if I'd heard of slaves and wars and those dark back alleys, it felt like some faraway dream. These things I've seen—people starving and dying—it isn't like the stories. Even some of the knights I've met aren't ... I'm so, so frustrated. What am I supposed to do?"
Rozalin paused, measuring her words carefully. Being 'uplifting' was as stressful as ever. 'Isn't like the stories' indeed.
"I can't answer that question, Amalia. The world isn't black and white. Take your time and decide for yourself. You're still a kid. Rushing forward without a goal in mind is pointless. I promised I'd protect you, so slow down and figure out what you really want."
There was one, final sniffle.
"Thanks, Rozalin."
Rozalin was busy equating this situation to a parent who's preparing a child for college. While she was distracted with that thought, Amalia reached over and hugged the Slime woman, causing her to recoil from the physical contact. Normally in these situations, Rozalin was the aggressor doing the touching. Or rather, petting.
"Your display of affection is making my skin crawl," Rozalin grunted while squirming, "Now get off me and let's do this. I want to go home and take a hot bath. You can worry about these things when we're home in bed."
The squishy, pink woman popped! out of Amalia's grasp and created some distance. As she was cresting the hill and about to head downward towards the encampment, she turned around. There was an awkward pause.
"If you really want to try saving those people, I could attempt putting those men 'to sleep' permanently. They probably all deserve it anyway. Even if there are a few good eggs in the mix, it's still guilt by association, complicity and all that. It'd solve the bounty on your head much more easily, too."
One final attempt to sway the young girl into a more 'reasonable' approach.
"... I want to agree. But I can't, Roz. You'd be no better than they are. And I'd be guilty too. Like you said, 'complicity', right?"
Amalia gave the woman a pained smile.
Tch!
The lack of foresight and having her own words used against her caused agitation to build within Rozalin.
The Slime muttered, "But they might have a stash of treasure or money. What's wrong with a little vigilantism in this world? It'd be a net gain for us and those captives! Bah!"
Cursing her own fate and depleted finances, the Slime slipped closer and closer to the encampment. Amalia could only wear a complicated look when she watched Rozalin's retreating figure, who was busy muttering about the ridiculous cost of woodworking supplies and equipment.
After a short while, those complaints died down as the gelatinous woman turned serious. The closer she crept to their camp, the more her thoughts became still. Magic, Skills, the unknown—she'd experienced much since coming to this world. Many good plans were dashed to the rocks in the face of such unknown variables.
And so, she snuck silently, moving ever closer to the encampment. Tonight was a good night for stealth, with the moonlight curtained behind so many clouds. She was careful to not rustle any grass too loudly, taking her time.
Once she arrived close enough, she began to be able to make out some of these men's conversations. Most of it was drunken horseplay and the like. In a way, it reminded Rozalin of some of her old coworkers when they'd visited bars after work. And the few friends she'd kept.
An annoying thought.
'There's no point thinking about that anymore. It's over. Focus.'
Rozalin rolled through the camp like a spherical chameleon, making her way toward a wooden post board within one of the alcoves. The board had numerous knife marks and was of poor construction, like a leftover piece of plywood. Several written notices, plans, and bounties were stuck to the board. There was even a 'Rules' list in the very center, commanding the most attention.
She internally snorted. Honor among thieves, eh? Cute.
Hiding from a short distance, she observed the board with the Magnification Skill she'd acquired from eating a rather delectable bird of prey. Rozalin scanned for anything related to her current endeavor. Finally, in the bottom right corner, her gaze stopped on a hastily written note that looked like an afterthought.
「NOTICE : KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR A FEMALE, TEENAGE BEASTKIN. SHACKLE DAMAGED. ROMAN AND ELK MIA. LAST CONTACT ONE DAY NORTHWEST OF EIGACH. 」
This was it. Nice!
Rozalin secretly wished she could just set the whole damn thing on fire, but fire magic wasn't in her repertoire. Not for lack of trying, either. A Domain anchor was thrown down as she observed everything in the camp. Picking the best moment and path she thought possible, the woman ended up in front of the notice board.
Adaptive Coating was used. A tendril snaked up the post and plucked the paper off the board. It was soon dissolved and no more.
Having accomplished her primary goal, Rozalin felt emboldened. Despite her uneasiness, things were going smoothly. The drunks over yonder didn't so much as look her way. She crept toward the secondary living quarters within the cave she'd observed. It was time to gather some more information, if possible.
A wooden door blocked the mouth of the cave. This was little problem for her. Rozalin sent her Core underneath it to get a view of what was inside.
'An abandoned mine, perhaps? This has clearly been dug out by human hands.'
That was the impression her surveying gave her. The dirt and stone walls were relatively smooth and the ground sloped down a bit further. There were a few torches giving off weak light—not that she needed or wanted such a thing.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
After slipping through the door with a slight creak!, Rozalin found herself deeper in. There were rooms dug out with a few empty beds and cots, dressers and the like. It turned out to really be a secondary sleeping quarter. More secure.
There were far more beds and tunnels in here than she expected. She'd thought this was perhaps their leader's personal cavern, or a treasure room, or food storage. Only the lattermost of those turned out to have any merit, as she noted some bags of grain.
'Why are there so many beds in here though? There are enough places outside already.'
She began to wonder about the scale of this 'bandit operation' the man supposedly named Ralph had thrown together. Rozalin considered pressing deeper to look for any nice treasure or things of use—
"Rozalin! Help!"
Amalia's voice came over the Link in a panic.
She began to reply, "What is i—"
"Ambush! Two men on me!"
... ... ...
Rozalin's mind went blank. That small nagging feeling she had in the pit of her stomach had turned into a cacophonous roar. Anxiety and anger exploded through her body.
"I'm coming! Stall! Words or force! Anything!"
Rozalin flew back up the tunnels. She smashed through the wooden door, knocking it off its poorly constructed hinges. The dozen-plus men around the campfire jolted up, directing their attention towards the noise.
It was then they saw some wild shape stampeding their way. And then, things turned chaotic.
—Earthen Spire!
The campfire exploded. A spike of solid dirt had shot up from the ground. Blistering charcoal, flame, and wood were all tossed outward from the center of the fire. Blankets and people were pelted with the fiery eruption. The damage was superficial, but a distraction was still a distraction.
While the men stood around the campfire, drawing or reaching for their weapons at the 'ambush', Rozalin had already long left their premise. They were waiting with bated breath for an intruder who was no longer there.
At speeds she'd scarcely known before, Rozalin was already cresting the hill. Each second felt like torment. Worst case scenarios and possible solutions were swarming in her head. When she got to the top, her vision quickly adjusted and took on the sight before her.
Amalia was standing there, chest heaving and with her sword drawn. Two men were on the ground before her, one groaning and the other seemingly unconscious.
Relief. It flooded her every vein.
Rozalin threw down a Domain anchor and scanned the area. Everything seemed to have gone quiet, other than the labored breathing present.
"Amalia, are you alright!?" shouted Rozalin, a bit louder than she meant to.
The beastkin twitched, "I'm fine. I-I was able to manage somehow."
Rozalin crept closer, causing the grass to rustle. Amalia turned toward the noise quickly, sword still drawn, before realizing it was only her companion.
Rozalin surveyed the scene quickly, "How did you manage them both?"
The girl paused for a minute, recalling the blur of events.
"I pretended I was scared, then smacked the first in the head with the rock. After that—" she pointed her sword towards the groaning man, "—I fought and grappled with this man. His swordsmanship was better than expected, but I disarmed him then kicked him between the legs, before headbutting his nose. I think it ... broke."
Amalia's tail seemed to be wagging in happiness, while Rozalin internally breathed a sigh of relief. The only wound present on Amalia was a shallow cut on her thigh.
"Did I do good?" the girl finally asked.
Had she still arms, Rozalin would have smacked herself in the face. All that worry for nothing. Yet, a small part of her wanted to laugh.
"You did good."
It was a begrudging admission. Rozalin quickly began trying to figure out an escape plan. She'd disposed of that notice for Amalia, but now there was a small chance her pummeling of these two would attract different attention. Or perhaps not, it was hard to say.
"I made a small scene rushing up here, so we can't linger. I don't want to be around when they search the area, but I need to know what to do with these two men. First, did either of them see your ears or tail?"
"No, I don't think—"
Rozalin felt a raindrop. Or rather, a few all of a sudden.
Strange. It wasn't supposed to rain.
Or rather, this didn't taste or feel like rain. It tasted more like ...
Amalia made a feeble noise across the link.
"—eh?"
Rozalin focused her attention on the spherical Domain enveloping the two.
There was another series of raindrops. A splatter.
It had happened so quickly, Rozalin barely realized what occurred the second time until it was too late. Time slowed. Rozalin watched in numb horror as a thin wood-and-metal projectile flew out from directly behind Amalia. It pierced the whole way through the girl's torso and continued on, only having lost a portion of its momentum.
—Earthen Spire!
The reaction was immediate. A stone spike sprang up with roaring ferocity. Then another, and another. A wall separated Amalia and the ranged attacker.
Rozalin lept up toward Amalia, catching and cradling her as she fell to the ground. The girl let out a cough. A second cough came and specks of blood found their way out.
"Roz, what, what happened?"
The girl dropped her sword, eyes scanning around aimlessly.
"Shut up. You're fine. You just got shot. Be quiet. Just lay there and be still. You're fine."
For an entity with a healthy dose of Charisma stat, normally such a being's words would be persuasive. These words, however, seemed more like reassurance to the one speaking them.
Blood from the two wounds was pooling into the earth below.
Rozalin began probing and searching through Amalia's body. The girl's left lung had been pierced through, missing her heart by a few hairs. Her small intestines had several tears, along with obvious muscle and skin damage. Internal bleeding had already begun. There was some nerve damage to her spine, along with a fractured vertebrae.
"I can't ... feel my legs. I don't ... I don't wanna die, Roz."
That small whimper made Rozalin flinch. Her vision went completely black for a brief moment. A sliver of thought and doubt passed through her mind, reaching out from the darkest and most sealed away depths.
'Hahah! Wow, you really fucked this one up. So much for 'protecting', eh? You deserve to be alone. What a liar.'
Rozalin's body tensed and screwed up. Her voice took on an eerie tone.
"Shut up. You're not going to die. I told you, you're fine. I can fix this. I can fix this, so just lay back and let me work."
Mana began pouring into the girl's chest and stomach area. Faster, then faster still. It poured and poured into the girl's organs, lungs, blood vessels, tissue, muscles, cells. It spurred them on, stitching and melding and merging and mixing. The bleeding began to slow, then trickle, before finally stopping. The wounds were healing at a visible rate.
Rozalin was directing the entirety of her attention toward healing her ward before the girl bled out or became unable to breathe. A minute passed. Rozalin focused on mending her lungs first before they could fill with too much fluid. Surgery wasn't possible here. The blood would have to be drained later.
*FEEEEE-!*
And then, a loud whistling noise made its way out from behind. The man that Amalia had previously disarmed had pulled out a small, bone whistle. Its shrill cry pierced the sky, echoing off the rocky terrain.
Anger welled within Rozalin. She rushed the man in the blink of an eye, jumping from one of the earthen spires toward him. Just then, an arrow flew her way while she was mid-air.
You have been pierced! -23HP
This only served to irritate her further. Her flesh hardened mid-air into the shape of a large, spiked hammer. Through the use of her Tough Hide and Amorphous Skill, she crushed the man's skull with severe prejudice. The brain matter had barely hit the ground before she landed on the dead man's back and switched targets. Her attention turned towards the ranged attacker, who she now saw readying another arrow from nearly 100 meters away.
—Magnification!
She could see the panic in the third man's eyes.
—ICE BOLT!
One thing must be said. Normally, any of the Bolt-type spells would shoot a basic projectile not dissimilar to an 'elemental arrow'. And normally, the Bolt-type spells used only a pittance of Mana and were considered one of the most basic Spells a Mage could use offensively. While modifying Spells was possible, doing so carelessly was unwise.
Over five times as much Mana was directed into this single Ice Bolt. Anger coursed through the Spell, tempered with the pure desire to bring harm upon its target. Rather than a crossbow bolt, it now resembled a javelin.
And it flew.
The javelin ripped through the air, piercing the bowman directly through the chest a second later, carrying him with its momentum. Unlike Amalia, there would be no one to tend to his gaping chest wound. Even if that hadn't killed him outright, he wouldn't last long. He reached down to his chest in disbelief, having already dropped the notched bow and arrow.
Rozalin rushed toward the campsite, peering over the stone ledge. Over a dozen men were quickly making their way up here. It would only take them a minute or two to cross this 400-meter gap.
Amalia and Rozalin locked eyes, the beastkin still gritting her teeth in pain. Her internal organs were in disarray. She was in no position to move or flee.
"Just ... Just leave me."
Amalia's selfless insistence was met with words cold as steel.
"Leave you? Just what do you take my promise for, Amalia?!"
A Spell formed, as Mana soaked into the ground around the slender knight-wannabe. The ground sank, then began to shift. It slowly and gently curved inward, entombing the girl. Rozalin noticed a dull pain in her Core, but she continued shaping the earth around Amalia.
"Finish healing yourself. Do it like I taught you. I'm not leaving you, so don't even think about uttering such nonsense again or I will beat you senseless when we get home. Do you understand?"
The older woman's voice finished with a growl.
Yet time was limited. Rozalin hopped over to the one bandit who was already dead. With disgusting speed, she ripped the man to shreds, Devouring and disgesting him as rapidly as possible. The feeling of being too full plagued the woman, but she continued turning the man's essence into more flesh and sustenance. She'd ballooned uncomfortably to nearly twice her size. There was still a nagging panic in her head. Thoughts zipped back and forth.
"Over there!!"
Time was up. She'd been spotted.
Rozalin grabbed the last remaining man, still unconscious. Her flesh writhed and wiggled in exertion as she took on an uncharacteristic, but not unfamiliar form.
It was a disgusting imitation of the human shape. She ballooned herself upward in an attempt to appear more imposing and foreign. The form lacked balance and was uneven or misshapen in many spots. An 'arm' reached out to the man, holding him up by the throat. His knees were scraping the dirt and his face turned toward the oncoming crowd.
Several torches lit up the approaching mob. The men were hastily dressed and armed, and the wind carried the smell of alcohol toward anyone nearby. They stared with incredulity at the sight before them, nearly 20 meters away.
"W-What the hell is that thing!?" one cried.
Whispers and mutters danced throughout the group. Beneath the moonlight was a strange, dark mass of something.
"That's ... The hunting group! It's got Darrin!" one pointed.
Bringing up the back of the pack, one man pushed his way through. The crowd parted way for him with only a light shove, some showing him deference.
The man had wild, windswept hair going down the back of his neck. Several scars lined his face, a mild disfigurement that detracted only slightly from his otherwise handsome features. Rather than heavyset, it was more accurate to say he had a stocky and muscular build. He appeared in his 30s. A thick, wooden club was attached to his waist.
He snarled angrily at the scene before him, looking over towards the dead member of their group lying a bit aways.
While he was weighing his options, the thing before them drew a dagger from the sheath around its captive's waistband. The dagger was pressed firmly against the unconscious man's neck.
The air grew cold. A wet, huffing noise could be heard. And then, ...
"cOMe clOWSer 'Nd he dIEs."
It was a foul, wheezing mockery of speech. No, it wasn't something that should even be equated with that word. A noise came from the creature before them's gaping maw, croaking out threats in a slow and forced fashion. Merely listening to its attempt at communication made several of the men feel physically ill.
The thing pointed towards the remnants of a corpse lying several meters away.
"thEY atta'Ked my cOM'paniON FURst. LEAVe us, 'Nd yoU can STill HAV thIS one."
Several of the men's mouths were gaping open. They'd never seen a creature like this before. What's more, they'd never heard of a creature like this that could 'speak'.
It was silent for a moment, as the unconscious bargaining chip continued to dangle just off the ground.
The man at the helm of this group furrowed his brow. A rush of adrenaline helped clear away some of the grogginess of the alcohol he'd consumed this night. Perhaps if he were more sober still, he might have given the subject a bit more thought. Instead, he did something else entirely.
"Boys! Rule two! Spit it out!"
It took the group a second, but they quickly bellowed back.
" " "Live freely and die without regret!" " "
The man roared again, "Rule seven!"
" " "Return pain tenfold!" " "
The man snarled once more, "Nine!"
" " "Avenge your brothers!" " "
A tense moment passed as the men unsheathed their weaponry and tightened their grip on said items. The knife held to the man's throat quivered in disbelief, the tendril of flesh shaking imperceptibly.
"Let's go, boys! We're murdering this freak!" cried their leader.
One last, guttural cry concluded the conversation. It was a mix of untold frustration. And perhaps, just a tinge of fear. It set the tone for what was to come.
"thEN DiE-!"
A shower of blood spewed from the hanging man's neck, signaling his fate.
Diplomacy had failed.
Spoiler: Chapter Title
Chapter 26 - Massacre Them All! Pt.1