Chapter 2: The World Walkers
The Labyrinth…
Something was amiss.
A disturbance that should not be ignored. A rift that could not be sealed. A door to another world that led to the unknown. It was not the Root attempting to penetrate the Core World this time. The cracks have already been sealed. Instead, a window formed by an anomaly made itself known in front of the high throne. Images after images of trivial matters that soon turned into something… abnormal. Flickers of depraved and immodest scenes filled the window with such intensity the very acts became a blinding glare of strobing lights.
This did not phase the Keeper.
The caretaker of the Labyrinth could only watch intently at the actions unfolding before him. A world full of humans, humanoids, and creatures that shared mixed characteristics of both female humans and other inhuman parts living amongst each other. An ongoing war between two major factions, one led by like-minded humans on a religious crusade to eradicate these abnormal beings through extreme measures. One faction comprised of abnormal beings wishing to subsumed and convert the humans to their way of life through dubious messages of peace and love. Countless acts of cruelty, corruption, and subversion was an everyday occurrence while human domains steadily fall one after another. Ultimately, it appears that the human faction was currently losing the war. They will be consumed unless a miracle was given to them.
The Keeper did not care. The Core and all worlds connected to the Labyrinth only mattered to him. It is his duty to maintain the integral structure of the Core that is under his care. The anomalous window connected to this unknown realm was of great concern and beyond his control.
Threats of the Root or these abnormalities could compromise the world known by its denizens as Earth. This enigmatic anomaly needed to be closed soon before that happen again. The only problem was how to do so.
This bothered the Keeper.
"Leaks in the ceiling… forming ever so slowly… beyond me." He stirred restlessly on his ancient throne with but a murmur.
The human he allowed inside the Labyrinth. Where was the human now? His assistance, while meager, was of great use during the war against the Root. Days have gone by without notice of anyone entering the everlasting, vast network. No indication of his presence was felt at all even on Earth.
The Keeper cannot allow the Core to be rotten once more. This requires external intervention from another source until the World Walker returns. He pondered in silence, his hands gripping the armrests in contemplation. Who else was fit to be sent into this chaotic world to deal with the issue?
One of the portals became active within the Labyrinth, alerting the Keeper to its sudden opening as he watched with close anticipation from his domain.
Something disturbed the forest. Birds roosting on branches scattered away in flocks from the loud pop in the midst. Shortly later, a new noise was then heard. A bloodcurdling scream of pain that filled the air.
Theodora Helmut blanched silently at the agonized cries that came from her twin brother behind the cover of a thick tree.
It was supposed to be a scouting mission to verify the gathering strengths of an Amazoness tribe that had been raiding within Order territory recently from neutral grounds. During their search to find the location of said-tribe, they had stumbled upon a small woodcutting village that housed both humans and mamono in the vicinity. As much as she loathed the idea of mamono living alongside the misguided villagers, the mission came first so they could not afford to be distracted.
That was until her idiot brother took great offense at what he saw, decided to charge in, and started killing everyone on sight before she could ask around about any whereabouts of the raiding tribe.
With the situation gone fully awry, she was forced to raze the place down and silence all witnesses from spreading news of their existence and her brother's massacre from coming to light into any nearby settlements, thus masking their presence by letting the locals assume that it was the work of bandits instead. All was going smoothly well while she was in the middle of clean up. All, but one problem that she had spotted running into the deep forest.
So, of course, they had to give chase and make sure that one particular loose end was finally gone for good. The horses they had brought with them wouldn't be able to maneuver the crowded terrain, but going on-foot should be simple enough to handle seeing that their victim was weak and unprepared in the first place.
That is, until something unforeseeable came up.
There was someone protecting the mamono they were hunting. A grizzled man dressed in a mismatched set of strange leather garbs and speaking a peculiar accent had just laid Theodore low by wounding him in the leg. A strange metal weapon in his hand that had recently belched a loud noise somehow managed to defeat a high-level Hero in mere seconds. The sudden realization left the Heroine mage boggled in a convoluted mess. That some nobody they had just encountered had stopped her brother without struggle in the first place and that she could not find any answers of how it happened. Those Chosen by the Chief God are usually capable of great feats and durability.
The handheld weapon she was scrutinizing said otherwise. The lack of knowledge bothered her to no end.
What she did know, right now, was that the man posed a threat and something had to be done about it before she was next. Right as soon as she could take action against the interloper, however, Theodora's blood nearly froze at his carefree voice calling out to her.
"I know you're out there. Stop hiding or I'll kill Sir Piss-A-Lot." She saw him point the weapon closely at Theodore's head with a smug chuckle while tossing her brother's blade away from him. "Your choice. I don't have all day."
With how things turned out to be at this moment, her choice was severely limited. She could not risk a frontal attack and stalling for time will just get Theodore killed. There was only one thing to do now, and it was to reveal herself in surrender. It was not the choice she preferred, but then the alternative would be letting her brother die for his outright, headstrong, overzealous stupidity.
As much as she would like to be rid of him, Theodore was still of blood and their family would blame her for not keeping him out of harm's way. The Order will also take his death as a great loss and demand answers as to why a promising pupil was lost under her care on a simple mission. Answers she knew they will not believe.
Biting her lip lightly, she stepped out into the open to face the stranger.
Things were going great for me right now.
After the prick went down screaming bloody murder while clutching his left leg, another visitor decided to drop in unannounced. It didn't take two-and-two to figure out that I was being watched from the sidelines. The frequent ambushes taught me that if any enemies were obviously seen in the open, then there was probably more hidden somewhere else.
And that also include someone acting as backup just in case things went south for this piece of work here.
"Drop the staff and kick it over to me, then move over there next to him." My six shooter was still trained on the knight, barrel readily aimed at his head for a quick execution in case I needed to prove a point.
The wooden clunk of an engraved long-ass stick was heard and sent to my feet. The woman not too far in front of me scowled unpleasantly, but remained silent as I moved the staff from behind. Smart one, for sure. Definitely a mage, shaman, or whatever the fuck kind of magic-user she is. Probably a relative or sibling, too, judging by the amount of similarity she shared with that crying twat.
I'll also bet their names matches, too.
A brief glance over made me raise a brow at the wardrobe selection she wore on her body. Some kind of skimpy dark blue robe that showed the top of her large breasts and slender legs with a long loin cloth covering her lower half between them. A leather corset dyed in gray was wrapped around her waist, raising her upper chest to be more pronounced while a pair of white thigh-high laced-boots were proudly displayed.
The only sensible thing she had actually done was putting her long blonde hair in a twisted back bun, but even that was not enough to excuse the two large bangs almost covering her glaring green eyes. Compared to what Sir Turdfuck Asshat wore, there was hardly any sense of protection to cover her vital parts. It was like she was asking to be stabbed everywhere.
The young woman's eyes narrowed sharply when she realized I was checking her out for quite some time now. "Lecherous beast! Have you no shame for staring at me with those slimy eyes of yours?!"
"Excuse me, but I'm not the one who chose to dress up like a prostitute in public today. I should be calling you out instead, little miss stripper!" I scoffed at her article of clothing.
"What did you call me?!" Rage quickly trickled into her lovely face as she seethed indignantly at my blunt comment.
"I said you look like a whore on a walk! Haven't your parents taught you how to dress more properly?" Came my stern chastisement.
"What I choose to wear is none of your concern!" She barked back and crossed her arms below her breasts, a shade of crimson covering her entire face in the meanwhile. "You are interfering with official Order business by harboring a suspect in your midst! Not only that, you have also committed serious crimes by harming a dutybound Hero after refusing to comply to his commands. Such penalties automatically lead to grave consequences, bandit scum!"
Celia remained quiet, but the way she was trembling made me feel worried about this whole situation. I couldn't reassure her safety at the moment but I sure as hell wasn't going to let them have her. A promise means a lot to me and I didn't like the way those two were looking at her way like she was some kind of pest to be rid of. Even then, I needed more information on who they are and what they wanted with bird maid.
"Tough words coming from someone who is being held hostage right now." My eyes rolled at the pretentious display. "Especially with your hoity toity attitude there. Might want to take a step back and look more carefully at the position you are in."
"I know my place very well and you should do what those above tell you, bandit." The woman attempted to boast her status as if they meant something to a complete stranger.
Charming, ain't she?
"Still, what the hell do you want with her, lady?" I stared at the condescending cunt, who shot a glance at my gun before going back to me with a haughty gaze of her own.
"That is official Ord-"
"Yeah yeah, important religious shit. Spare me the cultist crap and tell me what you really want with her." The revolver was then pointed at the mage. "Unless you want to keep wasting my time and stay lippy about it, be my guest. I can just off one of you and get my info all the same."
"I really think we should comply, sister." Theodore added in hesitance, wincing from the pain. "Bandits are not usually the patient type…"
"Shut up, Theodore." She snapped at her sibling. "This criminal doesn't understand the importance of our role. As soon as we are released, he will face judgement like the others."
"You mean, provided I don't just kill you to avoid said-judgement?" I pointed out the flaw in her logic. "Because right now, I'm pretty tempted to shoot the both of you if it means getting on with my day."
"What you do is inconsequential to us. We are the Chosen of the Chief God. Heroes will always prevail." The mage leaned closer with a loathsome glare. "You do well to remember that, scum."
Don't know what kind of drugs she's on, but that must be some really good stuff if she thought treating me like I'm some kind of pauper is going to do her any favors. You'd think someone like her would get it in their head by now that maybe talking smack to your captor isn't a good idea to begin with. But hey, more information for me to collect. Might as well let her continue.
"I don't think you get it, lady." I slowly gestured at the magnum in my shooting hand and gave a malicious grin just to keep egging her on. "See this thing that I am holding? It's how that dipshit over there is currently bleeding from right now. There is plenty more where that came from and I have no problem using him as a live demonstration, if that's what you want."
"Preposterous!" She exclaims and balked at the firearm with disdain. "A servant of the Chief God cannot be so easily harmed by such outlandishly crude weapons, much like yours. It is simply not of this world!"
Not of this world, she said. If only she knew where I came from…
. . .
I laughed. Hard.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
A similar thought came to mind when I held my first gun. Ace called it a Repeater Pistol and it didn't look impressive up-close when I was still 'green' in the big city. Scroungers, bandits, and the residents of the Ward swore by it since 15 rounds of semiauto lead torrent was nothing to sneeze at when the deadwoods came at you in small groups. That many bullets just to hold off the constant stream of death every day is the reason why it was still so popular from the inexperienced to the veterans.
My first shot took me by surprise when the Root Devils came-a-knocking while the nuclear reactors were being kickstarted. The trigger felt stiff with each pull, but the recoil was a lot heavier. The first Root that I shot at got pushed away, as if an invisible force just punched the damn thing. Following that, I squeezed and squeezed more rounds after another at the incoming deadwoods. Every blast, every magazine, every jump and every flash exhilarated me. It felt powerful. I felt powerful. I was holding power in my hands. It was no wonder I started up a collection afterwards.
"What are you laughing at, brigand!?" The woman screeched irritably. Fists were clenched tightly by her side at my apparent mockery. "Do you find my confusion humorous? A joke to you!?"
This deluded bitch, unsurprisingly, still can't seem to wrap her head around that a piece of advanced technology by my standard is able to kill many things short of running out of bullets or not shooting it enough times. That the utter belief of their heroes and heroines in this world were unstoppable and almighty. Maybe it was true over here that these special types of people were able to exceed beyond the normal expectations of your regular human being. Almost invincible, if that was to be believed.
Yet, all it took was one pull of the trigger to shatter that fantastical dream. Sir Theodore Helmut still writhing and holding on to his wounded leg was proof of that.
"Heheh… No. I was just laughing at myself. Inside joke. You wouldn't understand." I played it off as another form of belittlement and soon relaxed myself steadily into a calm.
"How boorish." Came her conceited reply.
"Celia," ignoring the scantily-clad bitch, I gave an addressment to my newly acquired servant by nudging my head over at our resting spot, "be a dear, grab the stuff and put everything in the bag then comeback over here quickly. This might take a little longer than I thought."
The maid complied without a word and went to gather up my things while I still kept a close eye on those two just in case any of them decided to pull something out of their ass. Fortunately, all I received was angry glares and pathetic moans between the time I swap my aim at the both of them every few seconds when Celia came back shortly with the pack fully held in her hands.
And by that, I meant dragging it across the ground because she couldn't lift the bag without hurting herself from the weight of the Chicago Typewriter and my still uncovered sword.
I should probably work on making a sheathe or wrap some cloth around it when I have the time.
"Great, thanks. Set the bag down next to me, alright? After that, stay close behind and keep a lookout in case we get any more visitors."
"Yes, master." She placed the bag next to my feet on the right and went over to hide again, this time leaning her backside against mine so she can act as my second set of eyes.
"Good girl." I gave an appreciative nod and patted her head. It was all I could do right now to calm her nerves down being this close to the action, as I couldn't risk having her be further apart from me just to be sure there wasn't anyone else hiding around.
"Fool," magic lady gnashed her teeth furiously and tried again, "you are trifling with things beyond your understanding. Instead of dying for this creature, you could simply just walk away and forget about everything that has happened here. I will even look past your misconduct if it means getting to that manono hiding behind you."
"Manono? All I see is a scared girl trying her hardest to live." I argued back with renewed vigor, a frown slowly forming on me. "You two aren't exactly the friendliest bunch, you know that? First Sir Shit-For-Brains tried to kill us, then there's the frequently vague threats that you keep making towards me. Now, you're giving an offer to let me walk away unscathed if I let you have Celia in your hands? Fuck that and fuck you, lady. I'm in charge here, not you. Take your demands and shove it where the sun won't shine."
"Why you insignificant, damnable, imprudent… marauding FILTH! You will gain NOTHING from this farce!" The thought of charging at me must been real tempting with the way she bared her teeth. But so far, no dice just yet. A single bullet in the leg, as tempting as it is, might have lightened the mood a bit just like what it did to her dumbass brother after giving him my retort.
Yet, something was still amiss in the whole picture. Them morons were onto something before they found us here. The bitch seems rather insistent on getting to Celia for some reason. Almost as if she was hiding something and didn't want anyone to find out about that dirty little secret of hers.
But what exactly did she want from her?
By then, something clicked. With what Celia told me before last night and the staff still at my feet, it didn't take a genius to figure out the culprits behind the burnt down village and their suspicious motives in doing so.
"Ahh… so you two must be the ones my servant was talking about." The straight facts were starting to come together now. "Burning down that village. Killing everyone so they won't sell you out to the others. A smart and brutal move there. Sucks that you have one last witness who is now under my protection, though. A real shame if the whole truth gets out that a couple of high-powered zealots got in their heads that it was okay to play God with other people's lives."
A tensed pause from her confirmed my suspicion with the way she intensified her glare up a notch more. There were traces of panic on her face because she also kept having that telling twitch under her right eyelid. No big surprise that I keep coming across atrocities after another everywhere I go. Just my fucking luck here.
"Theodora, dearest sister!" Sir Shat-His-Pants began to whine pathetically at the magic-castor. "I need help. This pain is starting to become unbearable and I am dying here!"
"Shut up, Theodore!" we both shouted at him in unison.
For extra measures, a roll of bandage from my coat pocket was flung at his face just to keep him quiet a little longer.
"Here, patch yourself up so I don't have to hear you bitch and moan about bleeding out, too." I sneered widely.
"You impertinent cur! I will have you hung by the balls and whipped endlessly for this!" Theodore griped as he began to undo some of his leg-plates surrounding the wound.
"That's provided the both of you live long enough to do so." Came my cheeky retort, before my tone darkened with a serious frown. "But moving on, what the hell should I do with the both of you now? The way I see it, a couple of loose ends who will either chase us down to the corners of the world or bring backup isn't something I want to deal with later on. Hell, I should kill the both of you on principles alone just because I'll probably end up fighting the Order sooner or later."
"You wouldn't…" Theodora started to pale at the grim outcome.
"I should and, at this point, I might as well." The hammer was then cocked back to a striking position. Theodore's eyes became wide like saucer plates as he stared down at the long barrel pointed at him, not knowing when his time will come.
"Wait, wait! Come now, l-let's be reasonable here…" Theodore began sweating profusely as he tried to inch away slowly, the unfinished bandage trailing behind his leg. "…I'm sure we can form a compromise of sorts."
"I'm sure I can sell that nice suit of armor of yours once the blood is cleaned off." I coldly replied back and made sure to aim between his eyes just to be thorough. Didn't want to be taking chances at this point if I pressed those two hard enough to be throwing swings at me.
"You are making a grave mistake! Kill us and the Order of the Chief God will come down on you with righteous retribution! Justice follows the guilty!" She snarled desperately, pupils becoming dilated. "We will be avenged by our cohorts! A reckoning will come to all those who dare stand against our true faith, mark my words!"
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of nowhere. Unless there is some more of you hanging around nearby or this 'Chief God' is watching us right now, I doubt anyone's gonna miss hide nor hair after Mother Nature does her thing and clean up the remains." A nonchalant shrug was sent her way, along with a savage smile. "But look on the bright side, your belongings won't go to waste! I'm willing to bet you also have some form of transportation close-by for those long travels as well. Horses with full packs, from my guess. How convenient!"
"You will get nothing from us, vermin!" The woman hissed.
"I don't need to. In fact, I should be thanking you for providing me with all the important details that I've been wringing out of you all this time. I mean, holy shit, I thought the doomsday cults from my previous run-ins were bad. But this fruity crap, right here, takes the cake to a whole new level of ignorance." I said aloud, chuckling at their expense.
"How DARE you imply that-!"
"And let's not forget the fact that I have to keep constantly hearing about this Chief God over and over again!" My rambling continued on without pause. "Chief God this! Holy Order that! Give it a rest, will you?! I know how these trivial dogmatic beliefs work out after joining a random cult one time. You get inducted, pledge your life to whatever the hell they want you to believe in, and then they have you do some really vile shit like torturing people or committing summary executions because someone disagreed with them. Hell, looking at you two, maybe those were the best parts of it! Nothing screams 'faithful' like a bunch of psychotic assholes getting their sick kicks together by ruining other people's lives and hiding it behind a religious practice, am I right?"
. . .
. . .
A thick silence reigned above the air between the stripper mage, Sir jackass and I. Judging from her twisted expression and the fact that I had just insulted their core belief so casually, I believed that the proverbial 'hornet's nest' may have been kicked a little too hard for their liking. Despite that, I wanted a few more slip ups to happen before offing them just to be REALLY sure they weren't holding out on me.
"ARE YOU INSINUATING THAT OUR LOYALTY TOWARD THE TRUE FAITH IS MERELY A TWISTED FABRICATION?! OUR ONE AND ONLY DOCTRINE TOWARD PURITY, A LIE?!" Theodora Helmut was now practically screaming at the top of her lungs. If you look very closely, she might also be close to frothing at the mouth given the time.
"Noooooooo, I'm merely suggesting that you guys are honestly misguided and should try to reform yourselves for the betterment of all." Came my sardonic reply, further antagonizing her state of mind. "YES, I am calling you out for your actions, you deranged bitch! First a village, then what? An entire city?! Fuck me, might as well call in the inquisition and sanction a widespread purge while we're at it! That'll show the nonbelievers!"
"Actually, most of our members aren't that crazy to begin with in Lesca…"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, THEODORE!" His sister roared at him with great ferocity, fingers now digging deeply into her palms. "IT'S BAD ENOUGH THAT I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR FUCK UPS EVERY TIME! I SHOULD LET THIS BLASPHEMER FINALLY DO AWAY WITH YOU SO I DON'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH YOUR IDIOCY ANYMORE!"
"AND YOU!" A blooded finger was now pointed at the maid. "IF YOU HAD JUST HELD STILL FOR ONE MOMENT, NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED! I COULD BE AT HOME, RIGHT NOW, HAVING A NICE WARM BATH AND DRINKING AGED WINE WITHOUT HAVING A CARE IN THIS ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD! INSTEAD, I'M STUCK HERE ABOUT TO BE KILLED BY SOME FILTHY VAGRANT BECAUSE YOU REFUSED TO DIE!"
Theodora soon dropped down to her knees, her breath running ragged from the tirade she had just unleashed. Between the angry loud pants and glowering visage, just looking at her would make any lesser person shit their pants at the terrifying sight to behold. Me? I was starting to get bored of this whole debacle and wanted to get on with my day. It was starting to become obvious that I wasn't going to get anywhere with them at this point. They can preach and beg to their Chief God all they want for a shred a mercy, because I've heard plenty enough not to spare them any. Those chucklefucks have got to go now.
Besides, what is a couple more bodies on my conscience anyway? Chances are, I'll be running knee deep in fanatics like them in the near future and I won't even feel a goddamn thing about it. My previous experiences with the other natives on other worlds didn't let me play nice with them, so why bother doing the same here?
Then again, shooting up that canyon village I was passing through in Rhom might have been overkill. At least the Kari put up more of a fight than their Buri cousins. I can't remember the last time I got shot at with actual guns other than fighting off the Root gunners and Mud Dogs on Earth. At least Brabus still has a heart, as sadistically volatile that he is. Same goes for the deadwoods, but that just makes em' easier to kill.
"Cover your ears, Celia, and don't look back." I spoke my warning softly enough for the maid to hear and soon turn my aim to Theodora's head silently. The look of defiance in her eyes as she stared straight into mine told me she had nothing else to say. Death was waiting for the both of them, the message was clear enough.
"No, please… mercy! Spare us!" Sir Theodore Helmut begged like the dog he is while he tried to scurry back from me. "We'll quit the Order! We won't come after you and the manono! Gods, no! Forgive us! I don't want to-!"
His desperate string of words soon fell flat when a loud bang erupted. The trigger was pulled and smoke arose from the end of the barrel. The color on the man's face became drained at the sight of blood splatters all over my body as Theodore's jaws dropped into a silent scream. Theodora's body fell back first to the ground into a hapless heap, her wide eyes staring blankly in a stupor just like any dead person would make right after they died. Specks of blood sprinkled her face like splashes of red against clean sheets of white, becoming forever stained. It was certainly a bloody mess to be sure.
But there was one problem that I wanted to point out. One particular issue of great importance to set aside the assumption.
She wasn't dead. That wasn't her blood on me.
. . .
It was mine and I was bleeding from the chest. Rather profusely, if I may say so.
Right before my eyes, a tell-tale leatherbound mask was peeking out from behind a tree in full view. Cloth wrapped paws wielded a long rifle that had seen better days judging from the jury-rigged maintenance applied on the weapon. The end of the black barrel was also smoking a faint white hue and its owner, too, was bleeding from the clipped left shoulder. The ratman let out a muffled pained shout of rage directed at me while it struggled to bring its aim back onto my bloodied form, its crude iron sight on the barrel-end shaking in focus.
My six-shooter answered back in full barrage afterwards. The hail of bullets found its mark and collided against the Urikki's body in full force. A dying gargle was soon heard and I almost thought to myself that all was well, until I heard more pops in the distance and multiple rounds peppering the surrounding trees a short while later.
"Crap, crap! Gotta reload!" Ignoring the stinging sensation of the bullet still lodged in my chest, I managed to shove Celia to the ground with my own body before another lead shower flew above our heads and into more of the unlucky trees that took the brunt of projectiles head-on. My left hand quickly reached into the jacket's pocket to fish out more bullets, but as I was about to load the rounds into the chambers more noises then sounded off from the opposite direction behind us. Distant woops and howls that was filled with a burning desire for battle.
Whistling arrows soon came after, plummeting randomly with each release while the pounding of drums could be heard further away. The clatter of stomps began to transform into a stampede as the fierce roars and yips grew louder with each clamoring step. Familiar howls from the Urikki raiders also greeted the newcomers in return with their baleful bellows and spiting screeches. Automatic fire sprinkled out occasionally, following the taunts and war cries from the ratmen in-tow.
The two parties were coming closer now, it seems. Tension in the air was starting to turn palpable as we found ourselves caught in the middle of a beginning crossfire. Celia was ducking her head into a fetal position while I had just finished loading the chambers in with a finishing spin. The urgency to flee was obvious right now, but with the way things were starting to escalate I had to make sure the both of us made it out alive by making my own stand and push back just enough to leave through the gaps while the fighting continued on.
All I can think at this point was how everything was starting to go to shit in a large handbasket. If I had hurried up and shot those two earlier, then none of this would be happening right now. We'd still be lost, yes, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about getting chased still even if we ever found our way out of here. Those assholes in front of me would be dead by then and none of us would be any wiser for the rest of all-time passing by.
Can this day get any worse?
Wilmarina's day couldn't be any worse than the small stacks of parchments sitting in front of her as both hands were pressed against her face in utter suffering. The adjutant, whose name she could not be bothered to remember, had left her office a while ago to fetch more of the increasing number of reports the strongest heroine willed herself to go through despite reaching the limit of exhaustion she was undergoing. Most of them were mainly petty crimes that had been ongoing quite recently around the time of the night when almost everyone was asleep by then.
It would make sense for the purse-snatchers and muggers to be lolling around in the slums for their would-be victims, but what concerned her the most was the increase of break-in robberies close to the wealthier districts such as the middle-class and nobility residentials. Not a soul has ever seen the ones responsible for the crimes being committed, but there have been some rumors of masked men in leather garbs wielding strange weapons outside of Lescatie from the mouths of wandering adventurers to the traveling merchant convoys on their way and back out to the wilds. Weapons that spit fire and smoke from the hands of strange bandits that would disappear suddenly after the raid ended. There were a few isolated incidents far from the city in relation to the attacks, but she soon wrote it off as something farfetched and unbelievable. Rumors are called just that for a reason and it could be possible that some of the attacks were conducted by the mamonos out of whim. There were even mentioning that the monsters of old were returning to seek vengeance against the world in the form of these attacks due to the offense committed by the current demon lord.
Ridiculous.
The rest of reports were filled with the usual complaints of the minor and high nobilities on trivial matters that the city guards and Holy Knights can handle themselves eventually. Few of them, however, did speak poorly of the newest addition in their inner circle that had just rose into the privileged role of the minor nobility. The propped-up heroine sat up against her seat and gave pause to the thought of the face she was trying to remember as she set her hands down on the armrest to digress from the misery she beheld on the desk.
Dreyfus Bram Hornsmead soon appeared in her mind as she frowned slightly at this particular individual, who somehow landed himself as Baron with the full blessings of the King and the high ecclesiarch ring within the late months. There must have been a mistake or some minor confusion with their choice. To elect a person with little to no standings as baron when not even the rest of commoners could manage to gain such traction was rather unfathomable. Nearly impossible. Even teetering on borderline insane if her father had any say in it. What the high priests says goes, and that was what troubled her the most.
Yet, in spite of her worries, this newly appointed noble was… different than the rest of ones who took upon their lofty positions for granted. The unknown amount of wealth he acquired was spent on bettering the slum quarters into more livable areas. He was the only patron to support Sasha Fullmoon's small orphanage through continued donations from his newly established meat butcheries and general shops combined into one business format. His personality, compared with the conceited and pompous ones she was used to seeing, was more reserved and quieter with a touch of sternness in his every expression. There was hardly any kindness exhibited from him, but his actions spoke louder than dressed-up words that demanded curried favors.
As a minor noble, he was exempt from the heavy taxes applied to those below the rung of the hierarchy but still had to pay his dues to the King and the usual tithe to the Holy Order responsible for maintaining the crown-jeweled city. This was a normal thing for many in the low nobility, yet despite the large expenses he had spent over the short period of time there was no signs of falter from his funds as he continued to spend his coins on gradual improvements. It could be that his business was much more successful than she anticipated. Or perhaps he had other means of holding himself up that was either hidden or from questionable sources. No one knows how he conducted his business practices or why his base-of-operation was far away from the city, but so far those in the slums or the ones down-to-their-luck that he had hired weren't complaining about the reasonable pay and comfortable lodgings combined with the large shops he had in place. Commissary stores, she believed they were called. Only the workers and their families were allowed to make purchase there and no one else. A strange concept, but then the baron was full of strange ideas.
Baron Hornsmead was almost considered a godsend. A champion for the commoners and the destitute that followed behind him. One might even dare say he was starting to become a local folk hero here in Lescatie. The unwashed masses, merchants and middle-class commoners seem to think so but the ecclesiarch and many of the nobles considered him a complete embarrassment and a black sheep. Most accused him of trying to slander their 'good names' or drive them out of business while some even took it upon themselves to delve into his personal life in order to find what inconspicuous materials they could use against him. Much to their surprise, and hers, Lord Dreyfus openly and quite bluntly admitted to frequenting the slums more often than the noble quarters one day, when prodded, in public, because he was more familiar with pain than pleasure. He then told the offending noble passing by to, quote-unquote, 'piss off and stop wasting his time' rather politely before walking off elsewhere.
How he even managed to live through it without harsh repercussions boggled her mind to no end. Despite the uproar it caused, he settled the issue with but a large bag of gold and practically threw it at the offended party's face before leaving without a word said.
The man simply did not care about his status whatsoever. It was as if he considered himself untouchable, too. His eccentric behavior was unbecoming of a noble in his position, but somehow no one has ever done anything to have him removed. Even her father had done nothing to render any form of immediate expulsion despite his loud grumblings and venomous discontent for a "low-born, attention seeking miser" who had garnered popular support amongst the commoners and slum dwellers. To simply have him removed unjustly would cause massive protest and even large-scale riots in his name, something Wilmarina had known for quite some time now and perhaps the reason why Dreyfus Bram Hornsmead allowed himself to act out as he pleases.
As the strongest leading heroine of the Order of the Chief God and the spearhead for humanity, it was her duty to curb all malcontent and keep the peace in the name of the Chief God. She could not allow someone like Baron Hornsmead, no matter his influence amongst the peasantry and commoners, to cause disruptions and anger the rest of the nobility, along with the high priests, for his boorish behavior. No matter how high up the ladder he was in or how much wealth he holds, none can escape the all-seeing eyes of justice everywhere. Everyone must do their part and pay penance for any form of wrongdoing, such as it is.
As Wilmarina, however, she secretly relished the actions done by the new baron leading to her father and her former mentor being frequently aggravated to no end. Whoever decided to ascend Dreyfus must have been either really daft in the head or was bribed with large sums of gold to look the other way and allow someone like him to join the noble circle, just to realize how much of a mistake they had made in doing so. Not only was Hornsmead a complete contrast to the rest of the squabbling aristocrats, the way he acted toward them made it look as if he really despises their presence openly. Whether by coincidental or purposeful happenings, no one within the nobility wanted to have anything to do with Dreyfus Bram Hornsmead and his dismissively provocative personality. In fact, all of them wanted him gone but knew it could never happen due to his proactive stance on improving Lescatie and, by all technicality, the obvious evidence that he has done no wrong so far.
Well, aside from the usual disruption of peace and small scuffles with the guards and Holy Knights. The baron didn't seem to like anyone that represented the law, judging from his random fits of assaults and public drunkenness. Bouts of incoherent outbursts also became a daily routine for him.
In an ironic twist, someone as crude and head-strong like Dreyfus was actually doing something that none of the nobility has ever done in their lifetime: Being an actual Noble for the downtrodden.
The poor finally had food to fill their stomachs and basic commodities to clean themselves. Many of them sang praises of cheap meats in condensed tins and long-lasting salt pork from the private and public stores. There were even rumors that he hardly taxes his own people because all the money solely came from the profits he had earned.
Whoever he is or wherever he came from before Lescatie was always the biggest question for Wilmarina Noscrim, but she could not bring herself to care at this point. What she did care about, though, was the latest news that had caught her ears involving a certain baron and her childhood friend Elt. She couldn't believe it herself, but to think that Dreyfus would do something that scandalous out in the open so casually made her heart ecstatic and mildly jealous at the same time. Even those who scorned and belittle him could not have foreseen this erratic move so suddenly and gaped at the most unspeakable thing he has done by far, much like being slapped in the face out of nowhere. An insult to their pride and purity.
Just who is this man?
"Son, you're adopted."
"I know that, Lord Dreyfus." An equally embarrassed and annoyed voice sounded off with a sigh.
"Just call me 'dad', Elt." The man's gruff tone turned into a gravelly chuckle. "Or 'pa', whichever works for you."
"Do we have to do this now? Here, of all places?" The brightly red-haired young man veered his blue eyes around with flushed cheeks while murmuring quietly in response. He stood in front of the rugged man dressed in an open long coat of maroon red and dark green trousers cum black boots, with a roughly combed brown hair that was beginning to fad into a dull sheen. Protruding eyes of gray stared intently at him while a pair of rough hands were placed on the boy's shoulders.
"It's how everyone will know you better once they recognize who I am to you now, boy."
"But why here? Why are you doing this?" Elt questioned his foster father's irrational behavior.
"Why not?" He rasped back and gave a small shrug.
"Because we're in the Order barracks, surrounded by my fellow soldiers and they are staring at us right now." The growing embarrassment nearly made Elt snap at him, stopping only for a moment to take a deep breath before continuing onward. "You are not well, father. There is no reason for you to be here and interrupt my current duties. Please return home and rest. Surely, the stress from work has addled your mind somewhat."
Next to Elt, was a line of different weapons leaning against the wall that were in need of dire maintenance. The young man was currently in the middle of cleaning a longsword when an impromptu visit from the baron almost made him drop the weapon in surprise. His compatriots shared the same feeling he was in and some even cleared out of the barracks as quickly due to how unpredictable the baron can be at any given moment. The rest, however, stayed behind and continued to watch the interaction with keen interest or because they were waiting for the 'show' to start and have something to talk about later on.
"There is nothing wrong with seeing my own son. I'm sure your coworkers understand this. See? They're smiling at us."
"They're laughing at us, father." Elt pointed out with a flat look.
"So what?" His father shrugged again without care. "Let them. I don't give a fuck. They should take this as a life lesson, anyway."
"Language, please."
He didn't know back then what the Lord Dreyfus Bram Hornsmead was planning to do at the time when he last visited the orphanage. Seeing the baron and Sasha sitting down face-to-face discussing about an adoption plan, Elt assumed that Baron Hornsmead was going to take one or two of the orphans under his care out of compassion and was about to congratulate him when he saw the baron flash the widest grin at the young soldier while he stood up and place an amiable hand on his shoulder.
That was when he finally realized who the man was really going to adopt and was at a certain loss of words for that very reason. Elt was a nobody. A son from a servant family of two that was under the former employment of the Noscrim family. He had no connections, nor did he hold any political value to anyone. For what reason did a man like Lord Dreyfus have in taking him under the family wing and accepting him as if they were already flesh and blood in the first place?
Apparently, the answer was really simple. It was because someone like him was dealt a bad hand, in the baron's own words. That life was unfair to most and despite all the hard work to become something, those above Elt refused to acknowledge his effort and put him down just because they are "A bunch of narcissistic assholes who wouldn't understand future potential if it stabbed them in the face repeatedly" along with more angry obscenities directed at the nobility and ecclesiarch. Privately and behind closed doors, of course. The orphans playing outside were too young to hear such profanities and the high priests would immediately consider the baron's execution for such blaspheme insults.
But above all else, it was love. His adoptive father wanted to give him the best of care for all the terrible things he went through after losing his parents long ago. Despite how dubious Lord Dreyfus seemed like at first glance, there was a familiar warmth in his voice that touched his soul like no other when Elt heard the words he never thought would come out from a person of high standards. Well, somewhere along the lines of it to be frank. Most of the words devolved into more swearing and insults which were now directed at High Priest Noscrim and something about the priesthoods touching little kids inappropriately. The rest of conversation was eventually tuned out.
Some part of Elt was filled with utter embarrassment, but the rest was a sense of comfort that someone else other than his friends truly did care about him. A feeling of content that washed over his body so much that he longed for it to stay with him forever. It was truly a blessed moment that he will never forget as long as he lives.
Which, right now, he knew father would never let him live it down any time he decided to express his affection in the most unexpected time and place. In the open. For everyone to see. Just because.
"Did I ever tell you that you're my best boy in the whole world, son?" Dreyfus Bram Hornsmead beamed proudly.
"Yes, father. You just did." Elt smiled softly in return.
"Good. Because I have a surprise for you back home when you have the free time. You'll like it."
"A surprise?" The young man's head tilted curiously.
"It's very special. I don't want to ruin it by saying more. You will find out soon enough." Hornsmead then looked furtively around the room and then turn to glare at one of the men that was about to burst out into laughter. "The hell are you snickering about?"
"A-a-ahh! Nothing! Nothing at all, Lord Dreyfus. I-I was simply admiring your dedication and couldn't help but feel enlightened by how much you truly care for your son." The soldier stuttered nervously.
"Huh, is that so?" Elt's father got closer to his face with a blank stare. "You lying to me, kip?"
"N-n-no, of course not, milord! I would never-!"
"Because if you were," Dreyfus growled hoarsely, speaking through clenched teeth, "I would have you flogged personally by my hands. Right in front of everyone. With your bare ass hanging out for all to see. Do you want that?"
"No! I meant no disrespect, sir! Please don't flog my ass!" Both of his hands were held up in fear as he tried to back away from the baron without much success and tripped against a wooden trunk. The baron just stared at the fallen man for a few seconds before dismissing him as pathetic as he returned back to Elt, who was now looking at his father with a small shade of concern.
"Well, Elt. I'll leave you to your duties. Don't want you slacking off and getting the old bat worked up again. You know how she is." Baron Hornsmead waved off with a sly grin and turned around to make his exit. The rest of the solders around Elt soon let out a breath of relief after they waited a few minutes more to make sure the baron was finally out of earshot.
A few nervous chuckles and uneasy glances were shared between them. The rest of the young men filtered out of the barracks soon after for practices and personal duties. Elt sat back down alone and continued where he left off shortly before another interruption hit him again.
"Your new father is weird, you know that, Elt?" A young girl in a dark red frilly dress that matches her hair deadpanned at the busybody teenager, who was now cleaning a poleaxe hefted in his hands.
"Little Mimiru," Elt sent a cheerful grin at her, "you just missed the show. Lord Dreyfus had decided to grace us with his utmost presence and encouraged me to work harder. I think he was also drunk, as well."
"Wouldn't be a big surprise. That new baron is something. Did you know he donated money to the College of Sorcery just a while ago?" Mimiru Miltie asked.
The red-haired soldier shrugged, "I have not. Father's generosity is quite vast, I'd admit."
"Yeah… about that." The child prodigy's face became grimaced all of a sudden. "Before his gracious donation, he was screaming about a possible mamono invasion and how everyone has started to become too complacent and lazy to check everything. Magical barriers and more garrisons, I think he was referring to."
"That… does sound like him."
"After that, the guards told him to stop disrupting the peace and to leave the premises. Baron Hornsmead then kicked one of them in the groin and sucker-punched the other guard in the face before calmly entering the college. I practically saw and heard the whole thing from the café."
"A-a-hahaha… that is… very much like him." A nervous laugh was emitted from Elt's quivering lips. "I'm sure father has his own reasons in… doing all of that, I think…"
"Yeah, but that's not the weird part." She frowned. "When I looked into his mana to see if there was anything wrong with him, I saw nothing."
"That is good, right? He is not ill in body and spirit, I assumed?" Elt tried to reassure himself, to no avail.
"No." Mimiru's frown boldened. "I mean, I literally saw nothing! It was like he was never there at all! Just disappeared! How can it be possible for someone with no mana to be walking around, still alive?!"
"How…" He pondered at such contradiction given to him. "…can it be possible. That is absurd. Insane, even."
"I know, right? Just who is Dreyfus Bram Hornsmead and what is he?!"
Elt simply sat there in complete silence for a moment. No other thoughts came to mind, nor any form of doubt directed at his only family member. If what Mimiru said was true, perhaps someone like Lord Dreyfus was a one-in-a-million chance of being an anomaly. Whatever he felt for him, however, did not change the ultimate fact about the man who adopted him in the first place. A truth that will always remain in his heart, forever and within all-time.
"He is my father."
You know, I just realized something.
During my mishaps in the other worlds, I've been through harm's way a lot of times. Getting chopped, sliced, hammered, impaled, slapped, decapitated, shot at, eaten alive, set on fire, melted down, electrocuted, infected with different diseases, etc. You get the idea.
But for the first time in my life, I can proudly add 'being molested' in my long list of injuries and death. That is usually something no one, like me, would ever expect to have happened. In fact, I should consider that a very rare merit in my current lifetime.
. . .
Oh, wait. That's right.
"AGGHHHH! SHIT! GET OFF ME!" I sent a very displeased pistol-whip at a furry offender, who had her hands on my pants, broke her nose in the process along with the rest of her teeth, before perforating a large hole in the cranium. The werewolf fell back and stopped moving as I scrambled away in pure panic.
"Talia, noooooooo!" Another werewolf cried out in grief and stared at the stilled body of her former friend. Tearful eyes then became replaced with rageful hate directed at my white mask as she raised into a striding haunch with teeth bared and gleaming.
Talia is dead, bitch. You'll be joining her soon enough.
"Fuck Talia and fuck you!" I screamed maliciously, sending another shot at the second beast and landing a bullseye between the eyes before she could pounce. "Fuck every one of you, assholes!"
Time to skip out of here before the noise draw in a pack or something.
The outfit that Brabus lent me was in tatters just like Celia's maid uniform. Claw tears and rips from the struggles was littered all over my leather jacket and cargo pants. The buttoned-up, short sleeved undershirt was missing a fastened horn that served as said-buttons and one of the lenses on the gas mask had hairline cracks covering the surface.
Oh, and they fucked up my favorite blue scarf.
Celia was nowhere in sight after she ran off to hide somewhere when I told her to get to safety. The fighting between the Urikki scouting party and those weird tattooed female tribals was far behind me after I managed to escape in the nick of time before it got really ugly in the crossfire. Those two Order fuckers either got caught or somehow escaped like me…
…and now I'm lost somewhere else in the deeper parts of the woods. Alone. Battered. Possibly scarred for life, maybe. It's also getting dark pretty soon.
Now, I'm probably going to ask myself on why I never bothered to stick around and wipe the floor with everyone effortlessly like I'd always do in every skirmish. First problem, lightning teleportation in the middle of the woodlands is seriously asking for a forest fire. Second problem, I have to look out for my newly acquired and extremely killable servant/friend now. Third problem, no World Stone here beyond my knowledge in this new realm. I can still die, so I don't know what will happen to me after that. Do I return back to Earth? Do I die permanently here? Is my death a foreign concept in these lands that I have resurrective powers? Don't know if it's worth the risk, don't care to try any time soon.
But on the contrary, I still have everything on me. So, yeah. That's a plus, I guess. Nothing like a quick switch by shoving a damaged outfit into the bag and taking it out like it never been fucked up in the first place. Still don't feel comfortable changing, though.
I'm also not bleeding anymore due to being part-tree after that little incident with the giant talking Root Tree and the mask and the crazy guy… yeah. Bullet came out easily, at least. That, and a bottle of Bloodwort to heal the wound up nicely.
Huh, now that I think about it. I killed the fucking thing, too. Made a nice necklace from its body like a trophy. That giant Root was pissing me off with its stupid tree language.
So now, I have to go find Celia and hope that she's alright. I mean, bird maid is very good at hiding. There is no way the Urikki will find her, or those… tattooed mutants with the single horns and wings. Yeah… definitely won't be able to find her.
. . .
. . .
God, I really do hope the Urikki don't find her. They make Ezlan's ceremonial robot lobotomy look humane in comparison. I even let the guy live because I like him that much.
Sure, his methods were very questionable. Maybe downright cruel, but who I am to judge the Undying King? Fair as to say, him and I aren't any different except for… Oh, I don't know, fucking Cessnya the Iskal Queen?
Iskal this. Iskal that. Fuck, that manipulative bitch is just as bad as the Root! I hope she gets what's coming to her when the Deadwood finally hit Corsus. Who'll be the one assimilating each other now?
Fuck my life…
. . .
. . .
…hey, is that a person? Kind of hard to tell with all that shade and foliage in the way.
. . .
Shit.
Shitshitshitshit!
Just back away slowly. Maybe it hasn't seen me yet…
. . .
It fucking saw me.
Okay. Best case scenario, it's friendly.
Worst case scenario, I shoot it the fuck up.
Be cool, Karl. Be very chill. M-maybe it wants to help. Yeah! Positive thinking! That could likely be the case. Maybe that, or it wants to do ungodly things to me.
Just stand your ground and don't panic. Don't. Panic.
"Okay, that's far enough!" I pointed my recently filled magnum revolver at the giant beetle lady, who halted into a complete stop, wielding a long lance in her right and a massive shield on her left hand. A single horn surrounded by her lavender hair done in ponytail covered the forehead almost like a shaped helmet of sort as the dark brown beetle's 'head', with a pair of antennas acting as ears, bobbed at my appearance in childlike curiosity.
Her body was… very hard to describe when I took a close gander at it. There was a pair of humanlike legs attached to the fleshy waist on top, while the bottom half was very much like an insect's body. Hard chitin was surrounded almost everywhere on the beetle's torso top-to-bottom, much like a carapace, if you ignored the fact that her lightly fabric covered breasts and abdomen were exposed. A pair of black orbs gazed calmly at me as we continued to stare at each other in complete silence.
Finally, I decided to break the ice in the best way I could possibly handle in any first-contact situation thrusted upon me during my worldscape quest.
"Uhhh, hi there. You got a name?"
Real smooth. Real fucking smooth. I'm going to fucking die. Iskal flashbacks, here I come…
"Faye." The bug woman replied back stoically.
Huh. That went well.
"Well, hi Faye. My name is Karl. You… you friendly? You know, friend? Not kill?"
"Won't kill you." Faye said with a small tilt and then gave an affirmative nod. "Friendly."
"Okay, we're getting somewhere. Ummm, so, I'm kind of lost here. I am looking for someone who is also lost, like me. A bit feathery. Dressed like a maid. Has silver hair." I started to explain while glancing around warily, the gun slightly lowered. "A, uhh… what was she called? Kikimora? Yeah! A Kikimora! You know, like a bird maid? That kind of thing?"
"Maid." She spoke the word tersely as if it was something new to her.
"Yeah, maid. Servant. Whatever. Her name is Celia. Does that ring a bell for you?" I asked.
The short pause she was giving me didn't seem like I was getting close to any hope whatsoever. The amount of anxiety was starting to build up the longer I was kept waiting to a point that maybe Faye just didn't know what I was talking about until she started speaking in her terse sentences once more.
"Can find her. Find her scent, maybe. Find bird maid. Help you, in exchange."
"In exchange of what?" I said in question.
"Food. Sweet. Fruits. Essence?" She pondered.
The fuck is Essence?
"What do you mean by 'Essence', Faye?" I asked.
"Essence." Faye stated as if it was something everyone already knew. "White. Sweet. Sticky."
. . .
That doesn't seem to elaborate much. White, sweet, and sticky? Like an opium pod? Does she want to get high on opiates? Man, I didn't think this world would be full of drug addicts. Damn, they must really have some good shit here after all.
"Sooooo… opium? You want opium sap? To get high?" I gestured at the surrounding area with my left hand and pointed at the trees. "Or do you mean like the tree saps?"
"No." She shook her head slowly, before carefully pointing the lance at the ground in front of me. "Essence. From you."
. . .
. . .
What.
Following the direction from where she was pointing at, I was now looking at my pants in total confusion before thinking carefully on what she meant by my last form of offering. White, sweet, and sticky. White and sticky…
From me…
. . .
Oh! Oh, I see what she's talking about!
Wait, oh. Ohhhhh…
…oh.
That.
I looked up to see her face still remaining unexpressive and staring expectantly for my answer. The thought of her wanting that from me only left more questions as to WHY she wanted to consume that kind of bodily fluid at all, to begin with. I can't really imagine the male semen being that nutritious or sweet to any other forms of life. That's like… drinking your own piss and hoping you'll stay hydrated for the rest of the day.
I should know. That method didn't work out well for me the last time I ran out of water. And the taste, too. Plergh.
"Uhhhhhhhh… I have questions." The left hand was slowly raised above my head.
"Ask."
"So, you're a mamono. Right?"
"Yes." She nodded.
"And all mamono eat… essence, correct?" I knitted my brow anxiously.
"Yes." She nodded again.
"So, that means the essence from men make you full and healthy. Right?"
"Yes." Faye nodded once more without missing a beat.
"So, that means, the mamonos literally depend on this stuff more or less?" I gave out my final answer nervously.
"Yes." Faye didn't nod her head this time.
Huh…
…that. That is worrying. That is… I mean, what the fuck?
"So… do you just eat it straight or…?"
"Sex." She answered without hesitation.
"What?"
"We have sex." Faye reaffirmed my suspicion all-the-way through her statement and raised the lance against her shoulder blade. She was staring intently at my crotch while doing so.
I suddenly felt naked being looked at like a drink dispenser.
Those werewolves that attacked me. The one that was getting grabby with my pants… was trying to rape me. Like, seriously attempted to get in my pants because she was hungry. For my seeds.
. . .
I don't know how to feel about this.
"H-how about we don't d-do that? I'm not really in the mood right now and you look pretty massive enough to crush me… I mean, in a good way! Yeah, I'm kind of flattered but... ummm, yeah no. How about some fruits instead?! I got some really interesting foodstuff you probably have never seen before! Did I ever tell you I'm not from around here?" My hastily formed excuse of a fallback sentence stumbled in my mouth as the revolver in my hand started feeling heavy.
Don't get me wrong, though. Sex isn't something new to me, considering my last stay at the homeland, but by the Keeper those legs on Faye look strong enough to fucking crush bones without any effort! Plus, I don't have the time to literally 'fuck around' when I need to find Celia quickly before anyone else does.
The beetle mamono blinked once, tilted her head slightly, blinked again, then slowly crept up closer to me. A bead of sweat went down the side of my face as Faye's insect eyes got up close to my gas mask. The nagging sense of danger in my head wanted me to consider her as a threat and start shooting, but my rational side told me that I should stop being so paranoid and explain the cultural differences of copulation at a time and place to the woman along with moral values and how to respect your partner.
Rationality won out, eventually.
"What fruits do you have?" Faye finally asked with the same exact calmness still plastered on her expression. I mentally let out a sigh before unbuckling my pack to search inside.
"You ever heard of a Golden Plum?"
"This is the fifth time you've caused a public disturbance in broad daylight today!" Merse Dascaros' hackles were raised at the sight of the baron staring boredly inside the dimmed foyer of his estate. Her calloused finger was firmly pressed against the middle of his chest as the Order Knight clicked in irritation from being dismissed right away.
"Are you listening to me, right now, Baron Hornsmead?! The FIFTH TIME you assaulted the street patrols and knocked them all out with your bare knuckles! I don't know what kind of problem you have with the soldiers and knights doing their jobs, but this shit has GOT to STOP. RIGHT. NOW."
"Father, what has gotten into you?" Elt voiced out his concern, standing on the side with knitted brows. "There has been a public outcry regarding your actions from the petty crimes committed by you! The nobility thinks you are mad. The ecclesiarch is looking for an excuse to strip you of your title. Sasha told me that the poor are getting bold and reckless from your daily clout with the Order. Why are you doing this?"
"Yes, Baron. Why exactly are you pulling these kinds of stunts?!" Merse glared.
Lord Dreyfus gave an indifferent shrug and said, "Because they are assholes."
. . .
"By the Chief God, father…" The young man shook his head slowly in exasperation.
The knight captain's expression twisted into a furious scowl as she grabbed the senior Hornsmead by his coat lapel, bringing her angry face to his while he continued to stare on blankly. "Listen to me, you old bag of shit. The only reason I'm here right now and not High Priest Noscrim's merry band of bootlickers is because I need to look out for my trainee's wellbeing and guard one of the royalties that you somehow persuaded the King to let her stayover! Your frequent scuffling is giving your household unnecessary attention! I can't put my hands on any of the other nobles without getting in trouble, but I know you won't do jack-shit against me since you don't care!"
"Captain, I think he gets the message."
"No, Elt." She stared into Dreyfus's expressionless face with a vehement snarl. "My point is not getting across to him, from the looks of it. I think another lesson in humility is needed."
Slowly, Hornsmead Senior soon found fire in his gray eyes as his mouth turned into an eager grin to his ears after hearing the words from the captain in front of him. "Why don't we go for another round, Knight Captain Merse? I'm just itching for another bout."
"You're just looking for another excuse to throwdown, is that right?" Merse quietly fumed at the minor noble, but couldn't help the feeling in giving the slightest sense of respect to him. "How many times do I have to teach you this lesson, old man?"
"Heh, atta' girl." Lord Dreyfus chuckled in anticipation. "Go on, I'll let you throw the first punch this time. Being hit by young kips like you invigorates me."
Much to his disappointment, Merse released her grip on him and backed away with a mixed look of impressed annoyance before turning her attention to the red-haired soldier. "All this arguing is making my throat parched. I think a nightly trip to the bar ought to wet my whistle. Don't you think so, rookie? Plus, the King's fourth daughter is still resting upstairs. Wouldn't want to cause a scene, eh?"
A small shove of encouragement from his father told Elt that perhaps tonight would be a good time to spend with the captain and make sure she doesn't end up trashing the bar like last time. Her temper, whenever the drinks got to her head, was nothing short of worrying.
"Go on, while the night is still young. Git!" He shooed them away in amusement, his fierce grin still holding on. "I'll watch over Her Highness. Just make sure you don't come home too late, son. Oh, and escort the nice lady while you're on the way. The old bat can't handle her swill all too well."
"Piss off, you crazy gaffer!" The one-eyed hero barked and scowled again, but with more jest. "I can take my drinks just like I can take you down!"
"Keep telling yourself that, ya goon!" The baron waved them off pleasantly and watched as the double doors were gently shut. A few minutes then passed while he stared at the entrance and glanced around to find that all the curtains were still shut before returning back to his resting face.
"You can come down now." His harsh tone rumbled to the empty space around him. Suddenly, a slim figure dropped down in front of the baron into a kneeling position. Long ears twitched at any signs of being heard from before the figure stood up and stared its beady eye at him.
The man's face remained stony at the sight of the ratmen before him. "Report, Egil."
"The trade with the nearest clan has been successful. Their chieftain expresses gratitude for the delivery of many thralls." Egil fiddled with the knife holsters on his sides. "He brings great gifts in exchange. The White Powder that you desire, Earth materials scavenged from their expeditions, and weapons for our forces. He has also allowed many emin thralls to your services, boss."
"And what of the invasion force?" The baron rasped quietly.
"Confused and delayed, for now. Our forces have done great damages and caused disruption amongst their ranks. The monster's patrols have grown larger, ever since." The one-eyed emin bowed his head low. "They have not caught on to our intervention yet. They are still under the assumption that they are being attacked by other Urikki clans, but that will change soon enough if they grow to suspect other parties involved."
"They will think that the Order is on to them, Egil." A scratched pocket watch was held in one hand. The dials ticked pleasantly as the gruff man gently rub the glass pane before putting it back inside his coat pocket. "Or that the clans over here are uniting into a war party to push them out. As long as we keep out of sight while hitting them hard and fast, the Fourth Princess of the Demon Realms won't even suspect a goddamn thing about us. That is a bluff we need them to believe in while we finish up preparations."
The man's tilted expression darkened into that of ire. "Her and that fanatic movement of glorified degenerates ain't going to do everyone any favors if we're just going to die out eventually. That's the problem with them mamonos. They don't listen to reason. They think what they do is for our own damn good. They think they have every right to choose for us."
"And the Order? Those hymns singing, verse quoting dumb fucks would rather stick their heads into the ground and maintain their 'status quo' rather than do something about their internal problems. It's no small wonder they're losing this war. Them and their precious ideology, as if anyone smart enough would willingly follow their hokey-pokey beliefs. I'm just surprised they haven't caught on with the Urikki and Emin so far. That is just plain incompetency, right there."
With a long sigh, he looked up and smiled grimly at his second-in-command who quietly chittered with a nod. "Go out through the back when you're done checking on our 'guest'. The high priests won't pay too much attention to me, on the account of my usual tomfoolery, but it'll take em' a while before they realize I was playing them like a fine fiddle."
"Yes, boss." Egil gave a small bow before scurrying inside the depths of the manor. There was barely any sound heard as the emin soon disappeared into the shadows.
Brabus took out his pocket watch again and admired the mechanical movement of the black arms going in sync with each ticking. He chuckled quietly to himself, ignoring the muffled cry coming from the locked room way back in the hallways and continued to stare at the synchronized pattern in his relaxed idle state.
"Wonder what that world-walking mudder is doing right now?"