Chapter 81: Running Forever

Previously, on "The Guild Next Door" . . .

"We are the Vanish Brothers! Observe our Destruction of Heaven and Earth technique!" the two declared, one unsheathing his giant saucepan and the other jumping to perch on the weapon.

Unfortunately, his feet never touched the surface, as Hare slammed into him in mid-air and sent him sprawling. "Do you honestly expect me to stand around and wait while you set up your attack?" She snorted as the hairy brother crashed. Having done that, she used both hands to pull the weapon out of her bald opponent's clutches, before, in a blur, she brought it down on his head and slammed him into the floor. In the corner of her eye, the kimono-clad Speed Wizard noticed the second brother getting back up, and, swinging the pan like a cricket bat, she slammed its surface into him, throwing him into the wall.

Hare hefted the oversized kitchen utensil. "I could get used to this," she grinned.

-[CoT]-

"Hare?"

Blearily, the Speed Wizard came to, blinking dust and grit out of her eyes.

"Oh. It's you," she grumbled, registering Sigurd standing over her.

"Yes, Princess, it's me, the commander of your mother's army, and one of your closest childhood friends," the blond man in his green armour confirmed.

"Yeah, it's you alright," Hare sighed, sitting up. "Only you can bullshit like that,"

Sigurd' smile slipped. "I'm going to take that as being a product of you still being under the influence of the drug,"

"What drug?" Hare questioned. "The last thing I remember is drinking that potion Kuradeel gave us, and then everything's all fuzzy . . that rat poisoned me, didn't he?" she growled.

"Yes," Sigurd nodded. "Luckily, I've been inoculated against poisons, so it had less of an effect on me. And your friend Sarph was clever enough not to drink it. Between the two of us, we fought them off, but got separated in the process," he shook his head, looking grave. Of course, the first statement was a lie - it was impossible to inoculate yourself against Aincrad poisons. Kuradeel had simply given Sigurd a weakened dosage. Of course, Hare had never learnt such things.

"I see," Hare frowned. "And let me guess. You insisted on carrying me because I'm your princess," she spat the word disdainfully.

"Exactly," Sigurd confirmed with a winning smile.

"Well, I certainly don't need you to carry me now," the Speed witch declared, standing up straight and huffily turning away from Sigurd.

"Of course not. I wouldn't dream of it," the commander nodded courteously. "Now, we ought to try to reunite with your friends,"

Hare grumbled, not wanting to admit that he was right, and, looking around, saw that they were in a room with walls of ice, like the rest of the 28th Floor Dungeon, and only one door. "Well, only one way to do that," she declared, making a dash for the door and shoving it open.

An «Ice Golem» promptly bellowed in her face - until a giant saucepan smashed into its jaw, sending it flying backwards. "Not in the mood!" Hare barked, the saucepan vanishing in a flash of Requip magic as she Sped forwards and delivered a flurry of kicks and punches that shattered the mob to pieces in seconds.

"I see you've improved," Sigurd noted, pretending to be impressed.

"Yeah. The shit I've seen ain't nothing to your crappy army," Hare snorted, continuing to run down the corridor until she reached a junction.

But before she could pass through the archway, words echoed from around the corner. "Matto wilnachikke plemzuru jan!" A projectile of shadowy magic landed before her and erupted into a smokescreen, the force of which sent Hare stumbling backwards.

Sigurd drew to a halt. "That's not normal,"

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed the illusion magic incantation," Hare rolled her eyes.

Footsteps echoed for a few moments. Hare and Sigurd alike tensed.

And Prince of Hell emerged from the barrier of shadows, folding his arms. "Hello, love," he leered wickedly at Hare.

-[CoT]-

Pierce and Grace landed with a slight stumble.

Looking around, they were now standing in a large, circular room. A circular platform dominated the centre, with a trench between the edge of the platform and the wall, with two bridges, each leading to a massive door set into the wall. The one closer to them was open, and the other was closed. Stepping to the side of the bridge where they had appeared, Pierce peered into the abyss. He could not see the bottom.

"Ar!" A chirping noise alerted him to the fact that the little white creature with its metal skin - a Pokemon, apparently - was still following at his heels like a puppy. The unfamiliar voice intruded on his thoughts again; "It's so deep,"

"I guess I can't get rid of you that easy, huh?" Pierce chuckled, stepping back from the edge and affectionately patting Aron's head.

"Hey, didn't Yui say something about there being another boss monster in here?" Grace wondered, looking around nervously.

"Yeah, but she also said that we could just leave through the doors and not have to fight it," Pierce assured her, gesturing to the open doors behind them.

But as Grace wandered around nervously, her foot crossed a curved line that marked the end of the bridge and the rim of the boss encounter platform.

Suddenly, prismatic light shone in a crystalline rainbow from a massive chunk of ice in the centre of the room. There was a thunderous crashing noise as slots opened in the walls, and an endless torrent of some strange, milky liquid began gushing out of each, as though attempting to fill in the bottomless pit like a moat. The two Phoenixes watched in horrified amazement as another hatch opened in the roof, depositing a man-sized drop of the same liquid in the centre of the dungeon.

The liquid didn't disperse, though, instead congealing and taking form, until it had formed a headless, humanoid figure, with a large, snarling mouth in the centre of its body. A name flickered into view above it, and Pierce and Grace both frowned as «Symbiont, The Preserved Parasite» snarled at them. In Pierce's head, a hissing, reptilian voice snarled; "Come and face me, human scum!"

"It doesn't look so tough," Grace observed, eyeing the monster warily - and then, like lightning, it lanced forwards, baring large claws at the Dragon Slayer. The same voice screamed, in the Tamer's head; "DIIIIIIIIIEEEE!"

"Reality Dragon's Spatial Wing!" the greenette panicked, and in an instant, the boss vanished into the folds of bent reality.

"Um . . where did you send it?" Pierce blinked, somewhat concerned, and Grace shrugged. "I dunno,"

"Well, let's go before it comes back," Pierce declared, and, with Grace eagerly nodding and Aaron trotting at his heels, the two dashed across the bridge and out of the doors that led back into the dungeon proper.

-[CoT]-

Sigurd stepped protectively in front of Hare. "Don't worry, milady. I'll handle this," he declared, drawing his sword.

Prince smirked and raised his arm. "Yappa futto famudrokke navgojiko nushlavu vethleka jan!" As he began to cast, Sigurd tensed and leapt forwards, but Prince leapt sideways and aimed along the wall as he finished his incantation, and a charged blast of magic curved along the wall, went straight around Sigurd, and struck Hare in the side, sending her toppling to the ground. Hare gritted her teeth, feeling the twin effects of Silence and Paralysis bind her body.

Sigurd pursed his lips. "Homing attack. Low blow, ganker,"

"Should that mean something?" Prince queried, sounding genuinely confused. He shrugged, hefting his cleaver. "I suppose that blows must decide, then,"

Hare frowned. Why wouldn't the Coffin master try to use a spell against Sigurd? And - wait, come to think of it, why hadn't Sigurd interrupted Prince's Spell? He was skilled enough at Wind magic to cast an Interrupt or Silence effect. Something wasn't right here.

"Fu jan!" Sigurd shouted, launching a weak blast of Wind magic at Prince, before dashing forward with his sword raised. As he did, he clapped his free hand to his chest and added, "Futto zabukke plorthul shaja min!" Green flashes of light spread over his body, and his speed noticeably increased.

Hare silently scoffed. That Wind speed boost was nothing compared to her proper Speed magic.

Prince threw up a sword, and Sigurd clashed against it. The two powered against each other, before the Coffin leapt backwards, kicking off the walk and bringing his cleaver around in a sideways sweep. Sigurd leant backwards to dodge, but the assassin span on his heel and delivered a staggering kick to him that sent him stumbling backwards.

With Sigurd momentarily incapacitated, Prince leapt towards Hare with his knife raised. "Time for you to meet your maker!" he declared, bringing the knife streaking towards her throat. Hare's eyes widened. She was still Paralysed, and -

"Futto famudrokke zhukaru jan!" Sigurd shouted and launched a spinning blade of pure air. The sharp weapon cut into Prince's hip, knocking him away and carving a bloody gash into his side as he stumbled over Hare's prone form and collapsed a few feet away.

"Don't worry, Princess. You're safe with me," Sigurd declared, scooping up Hare's lithe form with both hands, careful not to let the sword he still clutched hurt her. Meanwhile, Prince spluttered, and his body began to dissolve into shadows. "I should have figured," Sigurd grumbled, looking at the dissipating body. "An «Animated Decoy». He was never here, it was just a duplicate. The real PoH is probably still hiding in some hole,"

Hare nodded, but Sigurd wasn't finished. "But that doesn't matter now. What's important is, you're safe here with me,"

And the Princess stared up at him with a dreamy expression in her eyes, and gushed, "Oh, Sigurd, I'm always safe with you. Will you let me stay with you forever?"

Meanwhile, outside of his little fantasy, Hare was glaring at him. "Yeah, that's great and all, but you can put me down now,"

Sigurd blinked, dumbstruck. "But - ah - why?"

"Look, I dunno what you think is happening, here, but . . it's not," Hare shot him down. She started to struggle, and Sigurd had no choice but to set her feet back on the ground. "But . . I saved you,"

"Yeah, and that's great. But I'm not some penny dreadful damsel in distress, and I'm not gonna fall in love with you just because you saved me from . . PoH," Hare paused before saying the last word, looking at the space where the duplicate had been.

"I . . see," the commander of the Sylph army nodded, but Hare wasn't done. "You called him PoH," she noticed, frowning up at the man.

"Yes. Is that important?" Sigurd asked.

"Only his friends and allies call him PoH. To everyone else, it's Prince," Hare recalled, looking up at Sigurd questioningly. "So why do you have that privilege?"

"I - um, ah . ."

And then she was certain. "You're working with him," Hare whispered in horrified realisation. "This was your plan, wasn't it? To put me in mortal danger, with you poised perfectly to save me, so that I would fall in love with you? Like some cliched romance novel?"

"Princess, you're being ridiculous," Sigurd tried to dissuade her, all the while thinking; 'Shit, she's onto us!'

"No. No, it all makes sense. Ever since I returned to Alfheim, I've been constantly targeted by these Coffin people. First it was back at the castle, when they tried to kidnap me. I bet you were lying in wait, and if Eve hadn't swooped in, you would have been right there. And back at the tavern on the First Floor, when XaXa cockblocked Pierce and Tyria. I bet your stooges thought I would insist on having the spare room to myself because of royal privilege or some such nonsense. And - and you were there! Running down the street to rescue me, because you just 'came to check on us'. I thought that was a bit fishy," she growled. "You've been in on all this this whole time!"

Sigurd paused, and he frowned. ". . Fine. So you figured me out,"

Hare grimaced. "Shit," she muttered. She had been hoping she was wrong.

"But it doesn't matter," Sigurd declared, gripping his sword once again. "You know, it's funny. When you left, all those years ago, you threw a real spanner into my works," he offered. "I had it all figured out. I would be your hero, your idol, you loyal protector, who you cherished above all else. When you were old enough, I would manipulate you into proposing. And then, well, sooner or later you and Lady Sakuya would have had an accident. Probably together, less suspicious that way. And then? Well, I would be next in line for the Swilvane throne, wouldn't I?"

Hare glared at him. "I always hated you," she hissed, and Sigurd theatrically sighed. "Yes. That was rather the problem, wasn't it?" he growled, clenching his fist. "You were an absolute brat!" he spat. "You never could just go with it, could you? You always had to be a pest. Running away over and over again, neglecting your duties, forcing me to waste all my time chasing after you - I was burdened with the worst goddamn princess in all of history!" he raged, glaring vehemently at the Sylph princess.

"Well, sorry," Hare sarcastically retorted.

Sigurd groaned. "Well, your mother liked me, even if you didn't. She arranged our marriage. I suppose she felt she'd trust me with the throne more that she trusted her rebellious disappointment of a daughter," A smile tugged at his lips as Hare's fists clenched, but he continued. "And then you ran away. Went the whole hog this time, too. Stowing away on a ship bound for the other side of the world. I suppose being married to me was just that horrible a prospect, huh," he moaned. "Honestly, I'm still not sure how to feel about the fact that you did that. On the one hand, it meant marrying you was off the table, especially since no one knew where to find you. But on the other, it meant that I was finally rid of you!"

"I assure you, it was the best day of my life too," the Phoenix retorted.

"Of course, it meant I had to change the plan," Sigurd pointed out.

Hare blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Is that when you signed on with Laughing Coffin?"

"Oh, I never joined them. We just made an . . arrangement," the commander clarified. "I helped them get an agent into the Sylph infrastructure so that they could influence things from within, get intelligence and marks, you know? And they help me take out Sakuya when the time is right,"

"But then I came home," the Sylph interjected.

"But then you came home," Sigurd parroted. "And I knew how royally - pardon the pun," he chuckled. "you might mess things up. But then I wondered if you might have matured in your absence, if, just maybe, Plan A was back on the table,"

At this, Hare smiled. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you," she simpered.

"But I can still make this work. That was the past. Now listen to the future," the blond man continued the story. "You and your reckless, irresponsible friends launched a suicidal assault on Laughing Coffin, and they killed all of you -"

"My friends aren't dead!" Hare interrupted.

"Oh really?" Sigurd snorted. "That red head is trapped in the bowels of the dungeon, and Johnny Black is on his tail. Your other two friends, the siblings, chased XaXa into the Black Iron Palace, and that place is a death trap even without an assassin on your heels. And it's only a matter of time until the rest of your allies are taken down by the other thirty members of Laughing Coffin. But, I digress," he shrugged. "In spite of my best efforts, Laughing Coffin killed you and your friends. Lady Sakuya will be outraged. She'll be on the warpath. We'll spin it to make her look like she's no longer fit to lead the nation. The public will turn against her, with me at the head. Before long, she'll be exiled or dead, either one works, and I'll be in charge. Just like I should be," he grinned, baring his teeth. "From there, it's one down, eight to go,"

Hare stiffened, hearing this. "Eight?" she parroted.

"For as long as anyone can remember, Alfheim has been divided into nine kingdoms. Sylphs, Salamanders, Cait Sith, Undines . . well, you know the rest. But I think it's about time that the entire continent be united under one symbol,"

Hare raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Are you joking? You want to invade and assimilate every kingdom in Alfheim? What next? Vestal? The Grand Line?"

"No, not the Grand Line. The World Government and the Celestial Dragons are too powerful for me to threaten them with just Alfheim. I think I'll target Vestroia. Vestal already almost conquered it once, and anything those grubby little beggars can do, I can do better,"

Hare tensed, moving her foot backwards. "Yeah, well, you have one problem with all your big plots,"

"And what's that?" the man questioned.

"You have to catch me first!" And Hare was off like a shot, dashing past him and away into the dungeon.

Sigurd watched her go and scoffed. "What I used before was a third-magnitude Haste buff!" he called after her. "Would you like to see how fast a tenth-magnitude Haste makes me?" Forestalling a response, he clapped a hand to his chest and chanted, "Futto thimawu vethukke plorthul shaja min!"

A moment later, Hare looked behind herself - and gasped.

Sigurd was running at full tilt. But, somehow, impossibly, he was actually catching up with her. "What the hell? That's not possible!" she exclaimed, before pouring on the speed. Nothing was faster than her. Nothing could ever catch up to her.

"That's right, princess! Keep running away! But you can't run forever!" Sigurd mockingly called after her, his limbs moving faster than the laws of physics would normally allow as he inched closer to her.

They dashed through corridors and rooms, skipping around monsters who, by the time they realised there was someone to attack, they were already out of sight.

"I have to go faster . . have to be even . . faster!" Hare muttered.

And suddenly she had passed through a set of doors, and was in a large, semispherical room with walls of smooth ice that cast iridescent light throughout the entire area. She didn't stop until she was at the far end of the room from the only set of doors, and she drew to a halt just before Sigurd burst through the doors.

The two stared at each other for a moment, before Sigurd cracked a smile. "Well. This is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into," he declared and stepped backwards, back over the threshold of the door.

And then the ground rippled, and a translucent, phantasmal form emerged, a twelve-foot-tall woman whose torso ended in wispy smoke, with white hair and red eyes. «Greater Yuki-Onna Tsurara» stared down at her with a menacing gaze.

"This is not the time! Can't you see I'm busy here?!" Hare roared at the mini-boss. Tsurara regarded her inquisitively, before turning and looking at Sigurd. As she saw the blond man, something in her gaze hardened, and she looked back at Hare, before nodding slightly, and then sunk back into the floor.

Sigurd blinked. ". . What just happened?" he questioned.

"I don't think the mobs around here like Laughing Coffin and their allies any more than I do," Hare smirked. She had no idea if that was actually the case, but she didn't have any better explanation as to why the monster had decided not to attack them. It was almost as though Aincrad itself wanted her to defeat Sigurd.

"It doesn't matter!" the commander shouted. "You're trapped. You're boxed in. You're dead," he declared, an echoing note of false authority in his voice.

"And you do not get to decide those things!" the princess declared, tending her hands, and, with a flash of Requip magic, her giant saucepan was in her hands.

Sigurd stared at the absurd weapon. "Are you joking?" he questioned, shaking his head. "You could have had any weapon in the Sylph armoury, and you choose that?"

"Yeah, I do," Hare nodded. "You wanna know why?"

"Enlighten me," the commander suggested.

And suddenly, Hare was dashing forwards, bringing the weapon back in a swing to knock the man into next week. "Because no one gave it to me! I took this with my own two hands!" she roared, smashing the frying pan into Sigurd's side. The man cried out as he was sent sprawling sideways and narrowly avoided falling over.

He turned and glared, before slapping his left hand to his chest again, and repeating his earlier Spell; "Futto thimawu vethukke plorthul shaja min!"

Hare had just enough time to curse before Sigurd piledrove into her. Sliding sideways, she skipped backwards, attempting to put distance between Sigurd and herself, but the Haste-enhanced man was too fast, and she barely managed to throw her frying pan up to prevent a sword from bisecting her from head to toe. Sigurd gritted his teeth, and, like lightning, bashed his sword against her weapon's handle repeatedly. Hare's leg flashed out and kicked him in the crotch while he was focused on breaking through her defence, and she took advantage of this distraction to speed away again.

"That's right, Princess. Run," Sigurd glared at her, before raising a hand. "Futto famudrog vethleka jan!" he shouted, launching a homing green blast of Wind magic at Hare. Smiling, he stood.

Hare carefully dodged the attack. "Nice try with the homing attack," she dodged again as it wheeled around and continued to target her. "But I'm too fast,"

"Maybe, but eventually you'll tire. And that spell will just keep coming . . and so will these," Sigurd smirked, before focusing again. "Futto wilnachik vethleka jan!" "Futto nyafe jesut vethleka jan!" "Futto slalo kweld vethleka jan!" With each incantation, a slightly larger projectile was launched, making four homing projectiles for Hare to dodge around.

The princess frowned to herself. The first spell Sigurd cast had been a sixth-magnitude spell, and the other three had been seventh, eighth, and ninth respectively. Her frying pan vanished with a flash of Requip, and she sped to the other side of the room. The four projectiles quickly lined up in their pursuit of her.

Going around the circumference of the room, still skirting Sigurd, Hare passed them, and the four attacks reoriented themselves to continue following her. She frowned. They were homing attacks, made to follow her indefinitely . . but they were still just blasts of magic that would detonate upon impact with anything, not exclusively herself . . she smiled.

A single moment before they would have impacted, she dashed around the diameter of the circular room again, this time moving towards Sigurd.

The blond grinned. "Coming for a swift death?" he declared, and, obligingly, drew his sword, prepared to sweep through her as soon as she passed.

Hare gritted her teeth. Her timing had to be perfect.

She was metres away. Feet.

Sigurd slashed, and the blade hissed as it whooshed through the air.

And Hare's legs slid out from under her as she let herself fall to her rear, her momentum and the icy floor carrying her clear underneath the horizontal slash and straight past the other Sylph.

As she did, Sigurd wheeled and followed her. "Tricky, but -" He paused, and turned in horror.

Just in time for four incrementally more powerful projectiles to hit him in the chest. The staggered blasts knocked him off his feet, and Sigurd choked, collapsing backwards.

Hare recovered and grinned. "Eat that!" she barked at him.

Groaning, Sigurd attempted to pick himself up, but his princess was there, slamming her giant saucepan into him before he could recover. "You really think that I'm just gonna stand around while an asshole like you recovers and attacks me again?"

Sigurd's only response was a rapid-fire incantation; "Futto wilnachikke wemzul shaja min!" Suddenly, there was a flash of green light, and Hare was thrown away, spiralling across the room.

She watched as Sigurd recovered, the «Offensive Shield» effect protecting him. "Damn. Never was good at Majutsugo," she muttered after fruitlessly racking her brains in an effort to remember how long a seventh-magnitude «Offensive Shield» lasted. Hare noted with some satisfaction that he was looking tired; he was panting and not standing to his full height like he usually would. Additionally, she was certain that, under his armour, he was sporting some nasty bruises.

Of course, Hare was running out of steam herself, even though she'd avoided taking any major hits thus far.

"It's time to finish this!" Sigurd declared, and chanted, for a third time, "Futto thimawu vethukke plorthul shaja min!"

Hare gritted her teeth as, like lightning, Sigurd flashed towards her and delivered a crippling punch that sent her flying backwards as though launched out of a cannon, her saucepan vanishing into Requip magic. "Who's fast now?" he taunted her as Hare kicked off the wall and made a mad dash for the exit - but Sigurd was too fast, moving to block the door with his body and raise his sword. In seconds, Hare was wheeling away, not wanting to get too close to the man who was faster than her.

"Run all you like, but you can't escape me!" Sigurd taunted her, before dashing forwards, and Hare narrowly dodged. She made another break for the exit, but again, Sigurd was too fast, intercepting her and shoving her sideways before blocking the only door again.

And then he was charging directly towards her, and Hare frantically back-pedalled, before turning on her heel in less than a second and running back towards the opposite wall. Sigurd moved to intercept her, and the Phoenix rushed along the circumference of the wall. "Faster," she muttered, making for the door - but then a flying sword, Sigurd's sword, impaled itself where she would have been in less than a second. Wheeling, Hare span and dashed back the way she had came, noting with slight satisfaction that Sigurd was taking the time to retrieve his sword before going after her again. "I have to go even faster!" she told herself, spurring herself onwards, needing to reach the door before Sigurd could focus his attention on her again.

But the other man was faster still, freeing his sword and passing the door, swinging it towards her as she approached him. Hare's eyes widened, knowing she was moving too fast to stop.

She closed her eyes, knowing this was the end, no longer focusing on where her feet fell, and took one final breath.

There was a hiss as the sword cut through the air.

It was only when Sigurd cried out in shock and defiance that Hare dared to open her eyes - and what she saw almost made her pause, if not for the no doubt fatal fallout from such an action.

She was running, her Speed magic leaving a trail of energy in her wake, and her footfalls echoed through the room each time they hit the wall.

"That's not possible," Sigurd breathed as Hare rapidly reoriented herself.

And then she pelted onto the ceiling, unbothered by the rush to her head of being upside-down, and Requipped her saucepan.

Sigurd was knocked backwards by the attack from above as Hare passed back from the ceiling to the wall behind him and struck him on her way past, before kicking off first the wall and the floor, and striking him in the back. Sigurd fell forwards, and Hare ran straight over his back, crossing the room in a flash and leaping onto the wall again, where she curved and ran along the circumference of the room's wall.

"How are you doing that?" Sigurd gasped, watching her in amazement, and Hare locked eyes with him as she approached once again. "I guess I'm just that fast!" she declared, leaping off the wall as her saucepan materialised one last time between her hands, this time reversed, with the handle above her head.

The handle hit Sigurd with the entire force of Hare's velocity like a bullet, the sheer force smashing into his ribs like a jackhammer, and Hare felt a satisfying crunch as at least two of his ribs broke. The sheer force threw him against the back wall with a satisfying thunk.

Hare landed in a crouch, the saucepan finally disappearing. "You think you're worthy to be my husband? To be King of the Sylphs?" she spat, striding over and placing a foot on his broken ribs. Sigurd moaned in pain and despair. "You're not even worthy enough to shine my shoes," Hare spat. "Oh? And good luck getting out of the dungeon in your sorry state," she declared, before snatching his sword and cleaning out his pockets.

She raised a curious eyebrow, seeing the half a dozen magical crystals that her looting had uncovered. "Well, these might be useful," she shrugged, before her eyes fell on a piece of paper. "Is this . ." Unfolding it, her eyes widened. It was a map of the Twenty-Eighth Floor Dungeon - which clearly marked the location of Laughing Coffin's hideout. Hare grinned, stuffing it in her pocket along with the rare magical crystals, before regarding his sword.

A few blows from the saucepan later, it shattered into pieces. Hare took one last look at Sigurd and declared, "Maybe if you're lucky, some of your buddies in Laughing Coffin will come rescue you. Or they'll kill you. Either way, don't ever show your ugly face in Swilvane again," she commanded, before turning and walking out of the room.

"Y-yes." Sigurd whispered, before a cruel smile crossed his bruised face. "Princess,"

-[CoT]-

In Laughing Coffin's base of operations, on the second-last floor of the 28th Floor Dungeon, Prince looked up, and sighed. "Oh. So, Sigurd has fallen too, has he?" he grumbled, before picking himself up. "Well, I guess it's my turn to entertain the crowd," he declared, pulling his hood over his head, and smiling. "It's showtime,"

A/N

A/N

Whew! It took eighty chapters, but we finally have some character development for Hare! And the next instalment of that will be Chapter 85, so . . wow. Poor Hare. Wait, this is what she wanted . . Boo Hare.

One more reminder; there is going to be a Q/A session in Chapter 100! I want questions! Lots and lots of questions!