Chapter 6-Clues
Dawn light illuminated the stone buildings visible through the inn window. The Mage Takia was curled up on the floor with just a pillow as a cushion. As usual, he got very little sleep due to his unique curse. He had sworn to serve Master Naofumi with his whole being, and he was grateful for that mysterious girl who had upended the summoning. Although his master was surly and cantankerous, he was certain that his heart had been saved from being completely smashed to pieces by the First Princess' betrayal by his friendships with the other three Heroes. He watched Iwatani carefully grinding up the medication for Raphtalia at a small desk in the tiny work room.
With his back to the bedroom, the Shield Hero sighed, "Stop staring at me Takia. It's creepy."
"A-apologies, sir," The mage sat up and walked past the slumbering Tanuki girl in the bed and saw the softly snoring Sword Hero slumped in a wooden rocking chair with a blanket wrapped around his body. He gave a ghost of a smile as he saw Usagi curled up in his lap with her head resting comfortably against her master's chest. Her long white ears twitched as she slumbered. He extended his cold hand and gently shook Master Jeremiah's shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm up," the dark skinned Hero murmured. Jerry yawned as he saw his luckless traveling companion, "Morning, Takia."
"Good morning, Master Jerry."
Jeremiah blinked in surprise and pulled a face as he took note of his uninvited guest, "Ah, Usagi. Why aren't you in the cozy bed with Raphtalia, you little scamp?"
The hare girl yawned and gave her Master an appreciative nod. Even though the bed would been far more comfortable, she found that she loathed being apart from her kind Hero. Also his warmth kept her terrible nightmares at bay. She bowed and roused her friend who she now regarded as a sibling.
Raphtalia coughed and sat up, "'Morning Usagi."
Naofumi strained his latest concoction through cheesecloth and after patting his slave on her head he gruffly handed over her medicine, "Drink."
She gagged on the vile taste but forced it down; she knew well that her hacking cough was starting to ease up thanks her master's ministrations. Much to her dawning astonishment, she finally realized that she wasn't fated to perish like her doomed friend Rifana.
Jerry put on his thick glasses and sighed, "Well that was still a better night's rest than camping out in an alleyway."
Naofumi stretched out his stiff arms from the tedious grinding, "Speak for yourself. I can never get a decent night sleep in this horrid city. I'm too close to that Trash King and Bitch First Princess to relax." He blinked at the sight of Raphtalia splitting a bread roll left over from the night before with her honorary big sister. He walked over and soon loomed over the auburn-haired girl with a puzzled frown.
Her pink eyes widened in obvious alarm, "M-master? Is something wrong?"
The Shield Hero moved his hand from the top of her head over to a few centimeters above his belt as a rough measuring stick. His brows furrowed in confusion, as he wandered off and muttered, "It can't be. I'm seeing things."
A thoroughly baffled Tanuki girl looked at Naofumi with her mouth agape.
The Hare demihuman took out her notebook and wrote out, You're a level 5 Swordsman now, Talia. You're on the cusp of your growth spurt.
"Really," Raphtalia squealed with delight before being stopped cold by a bought of ferocious coughs. After she recovered she wiped away a tear, "I really want to be of use to my kind master. It would be great to get bigger and truly be his sword." She scratched her ear and inquired, "Hey, Sagi, how come I didn't notice that I grew a digit taller overnight?"
Usagi looked at her sweet comrade with warm blue eyes as she scribbled out, You didn't notice as I grew one and half digits myself.
"W-wonderful!"
"Those two will give me cavities," Jerry spoke with a chuckle as he watched the adorable girls, even as he had no clue what they were gushing on about.
…
After picking up berry juice, fruit and bread from shop vendors for breakfast, the gang headed out to the forests bordering the capital city for more training. After fanning out, Charlotte's bow materialized from a pretty white bracelet adorning her wrist into its combat form. She was attired in her beige tunic accented with gold trim at the cuffs, collar and at the hemline over brown pants and dark boots, with a long forest green cloak draped over her shoulders. She took up a bundle of sticks and inserted them six at a time into the orange gemstone. She was soon ready for training. She looked over to only remaining servant and felt terrible that he had lost so much by allying himself with the Heroes.
Cyril noticed his Mistress' concerned gaze, and waved his hand dismissively with a melancholy expression, "Don't worry about me, Sir Charlotte. We need to focus on the Second Wave. That's what Varri would have wanted."
The Bow Hero sighed as she noted that his burn scars on his tan skin were very nearly healed over with a few faint traces of the trauma inflicted on him by that witch of a Princess. His black hair was starting to just reemerge as stubble on his chin, upper lip, jawline and scalp. He was dressed in a new black shirt, pants, hood, and boots. In honor of Charlotte his new cloak was black with orange stripes at the edges. His only remnant from his service to the crown was his bronze-hued breastplate. Despite his injuries and his mutilated hand the young lady still thought he was handsome in an unassuming way. "Yeah. I'm so sorry about how it all went down."
He strapped on his shield and drew his sword in preparation of monster hunting, "You speak of it as if it was your fault…I assure you that was not the case." His brown eyes looked at her with utmost seriousness.
She still felt a knotted twinge of guilt as she realized that Varri's sacrifice was real, and not one of her fictional stories. She tried to rally her mood, "Yeah, I got it. Let's do this."
At that moment the slate grey skies opened up and dumped rain on the scattered Heroes and their servants.
Cyril pulled up his cloak and then held out his hand in puzzlement. Raindrops splashed all around them, yet not a single droplet stuck his body. He looked over to Charlotte with a shrug and a bemused smile.
Charlotte blinked as she was perfectly dry too. She noted as she looked as her sacred weapon, "Ah. I guess that's me. She booted up her status screen, and her eyebrows raised, "Oh it's on the passive skill tree. It's called 'Campsite'." She chuckled, "Do you want me to deactivate it?"
"No, that's alright, Sir Charlotte. I don't mind staying dry." His eyes lit up with a confident smirk as he saw several porcupine monsters converging on their position through the woods. "Do you see them?"
"Yeah," she whooped and as the first beast hurtled itself at Cyril, Charlotte unloaded a barrage of three arrows that had been transmuted from the crude sticks. The beast shrieked as it was perforated and fell to the ground.
Two more monsters attacked the frontline swordsman Cyril, as he bashed one away with his shield and thrust his sword through the neck of the other beast killing it instantly. He grunted in pain as the beast he had knocked down shot spines into his side and shoulder.
"Crap," Charlotte spat out and using her precision aim, shot another triple volley through the enraged beast, snuffing out its life.
Now resembling a pincushion, Cyril managed a pained smile, "It's only a flesh wound."
She heaved an exasperated sigh as she took out her first aid kit and started pulling out the barbs. She softly admonished Cyril as he flinched slightly with each needle that she yanked out, "Don't be a big baby Cyril."
"Apologies, Charlotte."
…
On the other side of the clearing, Clint yawned as he adjusted his glasses and drew out his palm-sized spear from its holster. It quickly telescoped back out to its full size. Although he was not overly fond of the color red, he had acquiesced in suiting up in his black shirt, white pants, brown boots and a red and white , gold-trimmed tunic extending to his knees. He knew that the waterproofed leather bag would keep his laptop in its case dry, so he was not concerned as the rain soaked through his clothes.
"Aaah….Help me," a feminine voice echoed through the clearing.
"Shit," The teen muttered as he raced through the blinding rain. He soon reached a young lady kneeling in the mud, sobbing softly.
She was a pale-skinned blonde, human girl dressed in a black traveling dress and grey hood. She sobbed as she stared at an empty pouch sitting in the mud. Her hair was tied up into a cute ponytail by a neatly tied black bow. Clutched tightly in her hand was an elaborate hair brush. She gasped as she saw the tall boy with an intimidating spear with a white haft that swelled to bell-shaped gold extensions on both ends. The base featured a dagger shaped black blade. The tip featured a black spear point with silver at the knife edges and a crimson gemstone centered in the blade. She averted her gaze and fixated on the grooming tool instead of Clint, "M-m-mister Brushy! H-help me! I was robbed as I was carrying the family treasure of the Seymour family to have it repaired. Ah, Mister Eagle. I'm so sorry they took you away!"
Clint gave a stern nod as he reached out a gloved hand to the terrified girl, who simply shrank back in fear. "I'll help. Tell me which way they went."
Her grey eyes shimmered with terror as she mutely pointed to the southeast.
He bowed, took the empty sack with him, and raced off after the thieves as the housemaid knelt in the mud shivering. Rosaline, known by her Mistress affectionately as Lynne cursed bitterly at having to trick the brusque yet obviously kind-hearted Spear Hero. Still Lady Seymour's stern directive could not be denied. She empowered the ivory-handed brush to levitate into the air and made a deep bow to its creator.
She sobbed softly, "W-why do I have to hurt him, Mister Brushy?" She started to bawl as all she wanted was to serve others and make them happy.
Several minutes later Clint had located a scrap of black cloth caught on a thorn bush and saw the forest path led directly back into the capital city. With a smirk he ripped the fragment in half, and along with the bag and fed both items into his Spear's crystal. Soon enough his Sacred Spear swung around and indicated a heading like a compass needle. Clint absolutely adored enigmas in puzzle books, detective stories and in his online games since early childhood. He was completely in his element as he confidently approached commoners on the street and made inquiries about a thief attired in black, and using his weapon's honing power to guide him to the miscreant. Predictably, the royal guards seemed to be under pressure from above to be as unhelpful as possible; as they indicated they had seen nothing out of the ordinary. Several vendors had spotted a man in a black cloak who had nimbly weaved between the bustling crowds.
Soon enough he stood in front of a once elegant manse that was beginning to look frayed at the edges. A carved stone crest adorned the main archway leading into the courtyard as a pair of silver wings on a black background. He sighed as he noticed that the front gates were securely bolted. It was not a wise idea to barge in through the front door as he could easily end up in hot water. He walked around the corner and noted that there was a side door ajar near a cart harnessed to a large sky blue avian bird that looked like a cross between a chicken and a chocobo. He watched a rather cute vulpine demihuman lady with tanned skin and multicolored hair pick up a cheese wheel from the back of the cart and haul it inside.
Clint casually folded his cloak to look less conspicuous, stowed his spear, and donned his poncho to hide his human identity. He casually strolled over and picked up a bread basket and lugged in into the noble mansion. He followed the smell into the servant's wing and soon found the kitchen. He watched as the foxkin dropped off her burden and went back out for more. He walked into the now empty kitchen as if he belonged there and dropped off the basket. He whipped out his spear and used the resonance of the bag that contained the family treasure to direct him towards its location. He crept through the deserted corridors, surprised at the heavy air of melancholy and neglect all around him. He finally found the grand hall and was surprised to see the middle of a large hall with a long table with room enough for a dozen people…however only the place setting at the far end looked used. There were plates, bowls, flatware, and mugs for four people set along the sides; yet they were covered with a fine layer of dust and had been neglected for years. Right in the center of the table was a gilt eagle statue with its wings outstretched with a proud glint in its eyes as it looked ready to take flight.
A slightly wheezing voice spoke with quiet pride, "Hello Spear Hero. Welcome to House Seymour." On the balcony, a grey haired lady walked into the dusty sunbeams coming from the skylight. Her blue eyes looked at the boy with a complex mixture of emotions. Emblazoning her chest was the same silver winged crest that Clint had seen over the main entrance.
Clint mentally cursed his boneheaded blunder as he saw several doors open as a hulking figure dressed entirely in black emerged directly opposite him, and glared at him with hostile amber eyes, as daggers slipped into his taloned palms.
Through the main doors, the same impish foxkin walked in her dark brown cloak and winked at the teen boy, "Heya sweetie."
Directly behind him, a tall, blond-haired lady with hazel eyes, and an impressive span of black wings walked in, trapping the Spear Hero on all sides. She was attired in a stylish blue dress, and flashed a cheeky smile at the stunned young man, "Hello Clint."
He couldn't believe it…it was that horrible girl that had ambushed him in his high school's computer lab! He fumed coldly, "You're the one that dragged me into this cursed world. It would make sense that you're here to stab me in the back, Miss."
She curtsied with a smile, "Rosalia, Mister Clint Redmond. I've been awaiting your arrival with great anticipation."
Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, he saw the same cute maid that had had her bird statue 'stolen' sheepishly tiptoe into the room with a flushed face full of shame. She couldn't even look him in the eye for luring him into a trap. He exhaled wearily, "Now I see. You tricked me you little minx. Your mistress' relic was never stolen, was it?"
The maid looked on the verge of tears as she nodded and fell to her knees, crushed by her guilt.
"Let me guess, this is the Seymour mansion?"
Rosalia giggled softly, "Atta' boy."
Clint's spear magically telescoped back to its full size as he heaved an exasperated sigh, "Fine. Let's get this over with."
Darius roared as he flicked his knives at Clint who parried with his spear.
A fireball from the fox girl Santrana clipped his poncho, setting it on fire. He threw off the burning cloak as he suddenly found Rosalia inches from his face, and with a well placed punch, sent him flying across the table, scattering the neglected crockery and candelabras scattering all over the wooden surface causing several of the ceramic dishes to shatter on the stone floor. He instinctively blocked Darius' dagger thrusts with his spear and he willed the crystal to strobe brightly, blinding the wolfkin thief. He slashed at both his knees causing the enraged warrior to roar in pain and swing wildly at Clint before his legs gave out.
Jets of fire struck his back, sending him tumbling over a chair. He growled in pain and used the chair to block a flurry of arrows shot at him by Rosalia.
The hawk girl giggled as she switched back to melee arts, "Magnificent!" She kicked the arrow-perforated chair into kindling as Clint rolled out of the way. He socked the blunt base of his polearm into her stomach, winding his opponent. He sprinted for the door.
At the same time, the little maid cowered in the corner and wailed inconsolably. Lynne hated that her friends were ganging up on this kind and innocent man. What had she done?
Santrana grinned toothily displaying rather cute fangs as she gleefully barked, "Not a chance!" She launched a tiny fire gust that superheated the door latch.
Clint grunted in pain as soon as he stupidly touched the red hot door latch and burned his hand. Automatically he unconsciously willed his weapon to emit a blast of lightning that sent the kitsune keeling over in pain. He then felt searing agony as one of Darius' daggers impaled his palm against the door. He leveled his spear as Rosaline charged with a flying kick.
Suddenly to everyone's shock, the little maid interposed herself between the wounded Spear Hero and her friend. For her trouble she was sent sprawling into Clint as the strike fractured her left arm bones with a crack that made the teen wince. She wrenched her face in agony, but looked up at the Hero with a pleading look of contrition.
"Stop," the Lady of the house roared. "Enough!"
Every one of the Spear Hero's assailants obeyed instantly, dropping their weapons.
Clint wrenched out the dagger from his pinned hand, and he wrapped his bloodstained arm around the trembling and wounded child, "Shh. It's okay, little Miss."
Rosalia looked at the wounded Lynne with an expression of horror. "By the Shield Hero God, no." She quickly rummaged though her satchel and gave vials of healing potions to both her friend and to Clint. "Lynne, why did you get in the way?"
The cute maid grimaced as the healing draught caused her broken bones to rapidly reknit. She gasped out, "S-stop hurting each other…please."
The Lady of the manor emerged through one of the side doors and bowed to Clint, "Forgive us, Spear Hero. If you must blame someone, blame me. I am Lady Rachara Seymour."
Once he was sure the young girl was safe he roared out as the blade tip whipped around so the razor-sharp edge was pressed into the elderly noble's neck. Clint was stunned to see that she had made not even the slightest effort to duck out of the way. Her retainers gasped in shock at the sight.
She looked steadily back into Clint's eyes with her own stoic gaze, and managed a thin smile, as blood started to trickle down from the nick in her neck.
Clint growled in frustration as he threw down his spear, which automatically flew back into its holster in its telescoped form. He growled, "Why did you lure me here and try to kill me?"
Her blue eyes looked at him humbly, "First we had to have you find us. The king would finish the job you started and take my head if he knew one of his nobles secretly aiding people who are treated no better than animals by our bigoted society. It was too risky to reach out to you, so Darius over there and Rosalind left you a trail to follow, knowing your curiosity would get the better of you."
Now that his wounds had healed over, Clint sighed more in annoyance than ire. He snapped, "Why try to kill me then? If you want me to help your little insurrection, how would killing me help?"
Lady Seymour shook her head as a pale Rosalia shakily bandaged her Lady's neck cut. "My allies would not have ended you. But this cursed Incursion left us with no choice but to push your abilities to their breaking point. We had to test your true strength as the next wave is a few precious weeks away. We had to be sure you were ready to fight without holding anything back."
"You passed the test with flying colors," The hawk kin added. "Nice trick with the lightning bolt. I've never seen you use that before when you were out in the fields and forests training."
Clint looked a bit surprised himself, "It happened by reflex. He checked his skill tree and he saw Lightning Spear as an unlocked new ability. He looked at the wolfkin, hawk maiden, fox girl and human maid warily, as he could not find fault in her crazy scheme; much as he would wish otherwise. Nothing he had heard about the Waves was anything but horrifying. He did need to fight all out if he was to have a prayer to defeat the alien menace he realized as he inquired, "So what now, Lady Seymour?"
The elegant noble finally flashed benevolent smile, "Why these able warriors are here to aid you and your fellow Heroes. Kindly introduce yourselves, everyone."
The black-skinned wolfkin thief dressed entirely in dark attire bowed stiffly with burning amber eyes, "Darius Okami, Sir Redmond. I wish to follow the Bow Hero."
"Rosalia Seymour, kind sir. I would like nothing more than to serve you, Mister Redmond." She stretched out her black wings and then neatly folded them up again.
Clint looked puzzled at the mention of her surname.
Lady Seymour helpfully added, "Rosa here is my unofficial heir. She took my family's name in my grandson's honor." Her face revealed deep pain, "They would have been wed two years ago if fate hadn't taken my darling Jarvio from me along with his parents."
Rosa looked equally distraught, "I failed you nana. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to best the brigand ambush."
She rested a wrinkled hand on her adopted granddaughter, "Do not blame yourself Rosa. I would have given up on my life if I had lost you too." She smiled approvingly at the former Computer club president, "Look after my treasure Master Redmond. She would happily die for your sake; although I could not bear the thought of losing her as well."
He bowed stiffly, "Ma'am, call me Clint. I swear I will look after Rosa with the greatest of care."
"I am in your debt, Mister Clint."
The kitsune wandered over and giggled musically with amusement amply conveyed in her crimson red eyes, "Santrana Corsac, at your service. I don't really care which Hero I serve. I blow where the breeze takes me."
The young maid curtseyed uncertainly, "I-I'm sorry I wronged you Master Redmond. I am Rosalind Clement, at your call if you will have me."
The boy gently squeezed her shoulder and gave the terrified girl a reassuring nod. He tapped his gemstone on his holstered spear and the status screen automatically added two new names: Rosalia Seymour-Level 8 Mercenary/Archer, and Rosalind Clement-Level 3 Maid. He sighed at the absurdity of the past hour's events, "I guess that's it, Lady Seymour. Thank you for giving my lazy ass a kick…I think I needed it. I will make sure Darius and Santrana find good matches with my teammates."
The Lady broke into a wide smile, "Wait, please. There is one last companion to consider. She would join the Sword Hero's team if he would have her back."
Clint's eyes widened behind his rectangular glasses in shock as he saw a familiar Spear Knight standing in the main doorway in a grey tunic, pants, black boots and dark cloak. He recognized her tan skin and green eyes anywhere even though her short hair was now silver and she had apparently had been given an artificial eye to replace the one she lost in the First Wave. He gasped out in disbelief at the sight of a living, breathing ghost. He spoke in a raspy whisper, "V-varri?"