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"Godō" - Regular Speech
'My Everyday life…!' - Thoughts
"God Slayer!" - Heretic God/Powered Up Campione speech
"Fire!" - Magic/Authority Use
Chapter 10: The Wrath of the Raging Tides
Ten Miles Outside Rouen
Jean Campbell was, not to put too fine a point on it, absolutely enraged at this point. A mere human mage DARED to assault Rebecca, DARED to hold her captive and DARED to threaten her life if Jean didn't bow down to her.
How dare she.
'Calm…calm…be calm…' the Scottish Campione thought as her magic roiled again. It had been doing so ever since the phone call from the Brotherhood of the Night Sky.
Forcing her mind to strategising on how to deal with the mages, Jean considered the resources she had at her disposal. [Stormbreaker] was useless; [Earthshaker] and [Horse Lord] were sealed for a month due to using the assimilation ability of the [Tríaina]. [Master of the Oceans] was still usable one more time today, and [Tríaina] was good to go whenever. [Dead Man's Chest] couldn't be used again though, being limited to one use per day.
As for the Authority she had gained from Joan of Arc, [Luminosité Eternelle, la Bannière de la Pucelle d'Orléans], it was unusable at the moment because Jean needed a minimum of twelve beings, who had either sworn themselves to her service or had been created by another of her Authorities, in order to be used.
She had to rescue Rebecca as fast as possible. There was no telling what state she was in after fighting Knights. Jean knew Rebecca pretty well considering it had only been…a week? Less?…since they had first met one another. Rebecca Piper was a fighter, regardless of the fact she wasn't magically powerful. She wouldn't have been captured without making those French Knights bleed a little.
'Could this be Alec's plan…?' Jean wondered before dismissing the idea with a shake of her head, 'No. He knows fully well that only Heretic Gods and other Campione can match me. Besides, he is just as much a battle maniac as I am, despite his protestations to the contrary. He'd face me head on if he wanted to take me down.'
Therefore, this was very likely the plot of the Brotherhood of the Night Sky in order to curry favour with Alec or some other plot. Likely, given the stupidity of their plan, they do not believe her to be a Campione of any sort or someone who is still adjusting to her life as a Campione.
Well, if they thought she would simply roll over and submit to them, they had another thing coming. They had kidnapped her subordinate. An attack on her subordinate was akin to an attack on herself. Jean Campbell had been wronged.
A smile slowly appeared on her face as she considered the implications of that statement.
'To quote Blackadder, I have a cunning plan.' she thought.
With Rebecca
With a groan, Rebecca Piper regained consciousness. The last thing she recalled was being beaten down by a dozen Knights, and then…she woke up here…wherever that was.
Opening her eyes, she found herself hanging from the ceiling in a room by her manacled hands. The fact she couldn't feel her magic meant these were magic-sapping manacles, which were supposed to only be used for sorcerers.
"Ah, so you are awake, mademoiselle Piper." a familiar voice stated. From the dark doorway, a woman emerged. She had blonde hair, blue eyes and an aristocratic air that made it clear that this person was used to having thing her own way.
"Michelle Blanchefleur, I presume?" Rebecca croaked icily.
"Indeed." the Paladin nodded, "I must say, you were quite the troublesome opponent for my Knights. You actually managed to incapacitate six of them before the other six knocked you out. Quite the achievement for a mere Hearth Witch."
"Heh…you forgot the eight others that my traps snarled up." the Witenagemot Witch replied.
"Just so." Michelle said, a trace of a scowl on her face, "Those incapacitated will be disciplined for their incompetence."
"Hardly incompetence." Rebecca scoffed, "I've successfully cast spells that deceived a Heretic God once before. If one of them was deceived, your Knights stood no chance of detecting my traps. More to the point, what madness are you planning? You've doomed your organisation to destruction by capturing me."
"Lord Alec is not pleased with your mistress." Michelle replied, "He is the Campione of Great Britain and Jean Campbell shouldn't remain there. If we can convince her to relocate, Lord Alec will undoubtedly reward us."
The Hearth Witch scoffed. "If you are deluded enough to think that, then you must be desperate. The Black Prince will pay you all the attention that the master of a disobedient dog would pay his pet for not crapping on the carpet."
A look of anger flicked across the Paladin's face before she schooled it back to her pleasant mask.
"That is your opinion, and you are entitled to it." Michelle said condescendingly, "But I believe I am right also, so time will have to tell which of us is correct."
"If you have a tomorrow." Rebecca scoffed.
"And by that you mean…?" the Paladin raised her eyebrows meaningfully.
"Every Campione has a mania of sorts; something with which they are obsessed with." Rebecca replied with a smirk, "Something that they cannot ignore or let go of. For Marquis Voban, it is fighting powerful foes, for Luo Hao it is mastery of her martial arts. Madame Aisha is afflicted with wanderlust, while Alec is obsessed with the theft of certain objects. Doni is obsessed with having fun, while King Kusanagi is obsessed with being normal."
"And?" the Paladin said, unimpressed, "Your point being?"
"My King, Jean Campbell, is obsessed with maintaining her independence from anything that she does not choose to bind herself to." Rebecca explained with her smirk growing, "Countries, organisations, people…she cannot abide people attempting to force their views upon her and attempting to make her follow their orders. If she wishes to do something, she will do so. You have just trodden upon that obsession with jackboots. Do you really think she's not going to punish you for that?"
A now rather pale Michelle Blanchefleur took a step back as the conviction in the Hearth Witch's eyes made it perfectly clear that she was telling the truth, at least as far as she knew it.
The impromptu staring match was interrupted by the entry of a smaller man with mouse-brown hair, a large overbite in his teeth and weak watery hazel eyes walking into the room.
"Dame le paladin, the Campione has been sighted." he announced.
"Merde." the Frenchwoman cursed, "Where?"
"Atop the highest point of la cathédrale de Rouen." the man replied, "She was spotted leaping up it with alarming alacrity, wielding a golden weapon of some description."
"And so it begins." Rebecca whispered.
"Silence!" the Paladin barked, "Léonce, send out a team of Knights to intercept her and attempt to get her to come in peacefully. Make certain that the leader of the group isn't an idiot who would provoke her. If she refuses, get them to withdraw immediately so we can plan our next move."
"Oui." the man nodded and hurried out of the room.
"You had better hope that your mistress values your life more than her broken pride." the Paladin told Rebecca, "We still have madam guillotine if she does not."
The witch felt a shiver of fear travel down her spine at that. She recovered herself and smirked at the Paladin.
"Just as I hope you are not counting on emerging from this unscathed, Paladin." she said sweetly, "My king is…imaginative with her punishments."
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With Jean
Atop Rouen Cathedral
The view from one of the two bell towers of Rouen Cathedral was magnificent in Jean's humble opinion. The city was spread before her in a magnificent landscape coloured by the red light of the setting sun.
Sneaking into Rouen had been easy. Given the size of the city, their (comparatively) limited reserves of magic and the need to be inconspicuous to the normal citizens and the police, the magic users of the Brotherhood of the Night Sky had spread a thin net over the main routes in and out of the city that would warn them if they were destroyed…such as by a Campione walking through them and destroying them with their immunity to mundane magic.
They had neglected to place anything over the mouth of the river where it entered the city, however. A rather foolish oversight considering that whoever had been watching her almost had to have known that she and Jeanne d'Arc had left via the river.
'Never regret the stupidity of your enemy. Instead, turn it to your advantage if you can.' she thought with a smirk. She had used the [Polemistís Tríaina] to increase her strength and agility to the point that she sped across the river, up to the roofs, across them and then up the cathedral to the top of one of the bell towers.
"Finally." she muttered as she felt several sources of magic move towards her. Knights. She dismissed her trident and held out her hand.
"Faithful blade of steel and sea! Come, appear before me!"
In a flash of eerie green light, the cutlass of Davy Jones appeared in her hand, wreathed in a green aura. She swiped with it and smirked. Several light thuds indicated the arrival of the Knights.
"Ten minutes to get a reaction force to me…" Jean drawled, "Somewhat disappointing."
"Stand down and come with us, Campione." the leader ordered brusquely, "Else your subordinate shall pay the consequences."
"Tsk, tsk…threats already? How barbaric." she drawled before doing to the ten Knights what she had done to the First Knight of the Nice Chapterhouse of the Order of Crossed Swords; crushed them with her overwhelming magical presence. Even depleted after a battle with a Heretic God, she was still vastly more powerful than they were.
"Now you listen to me." she hissed as the Knights were driven to their knees under the weight of the magic she was putting out, "I am a Campione. Not a Knight, not a Great Knight, not a Witch, Mage or Hime-Miko. You do not play stupid political games with me. As you have been…unwise in doing so, I declare that the Brotherhood of the Night Sky has wronged me!"
The sword in her hand began to glow even brighter as the condition for the activation of an Authority was met.
"Now…stay put and watch my retribution." she instructed them. Not that they had much of a choice in the matter. Jean thrust the cutlass into the air and started the chant to another of her Authorities.
"Oh my Lord! Oh, Lord who is my shepherd! As thou punished me for mine flight, I beseech thee to punish those who hast wronged me! A curse upon thee and thine companions until thine debt is cleared!"
The second part of the [Curse of Davy Jones] Authority Jean had gained from Davy Jones, [Jonah's Jinx]. While useless against her fellow Campione or Heretic Gods without kissing them to inject it into their bodies, this Authority was tailor-made to punish those who had committed crimes against Jean personally.
From the blade, a glowing green fog billowed forth, swirling around Jean before spreading out. It crossed the rooftop and enveloped the ten Knights. They gasped and tried to resist it, but they were helpless. Some of the mist forced itself into their mouths and their eyes turned green for a moment as the curse took hold on them.
Done with them, the mist gushed over the edge of the bell tower and fell like an eldritch green waterfall. Jean knew from her examination of the Authority that physical location was not an issue. Now that she had named her target and unleashed it, [Jonah's Jinx] would spread throughout the world until every active member of the organisation that had done her wrong was afflicted with the curse.
She didn't know if they were anywhere but in Northern and Central France, but she doubted it. Rebecca's stories had made it clear than only Campione-run Mage Organisations strayed outside of their country of origin for anything other than very serious business, which was rare in and of itself.
Jean dismissed the sword, as it was no longer needed. The curse had been cast and wouldn't cease spreading until every member of the Brotherhood of the Night Sky was under its influence.
"What…what did you do to us?!" the Knight leader demanded hoarsely as he shakily stood up.
"You and your entire organisation are now under a curse." Jean replied bluntly, "Until my conditions are fulfilled, you will be plagued with extreme bad luck ranging from minor to deadly. I would advise that you get your Paladin or Great Knight to surrender to me soon."
"What…what are your conditions?" the leader asked, eyes wide.
The Campione reached inside her ripped and bloody jacket and pulled out a sheet of paper. Handing it to the man, she said, "That is for the Paladin's eyes only. Look upon it at your own peril. Now begone from my presence lest I grow irked."
Stumbling clumsily, the Knights leapt away as they cried, "Take flight, Sandals of Hermes!" and bounced from glyph to glyph until they reached the ground. The Scottish girl smirked as two of them cried out in pain as their landings were off and they twisted their ankles…both of them at once in fact.
Jean recalled that a common school of magic was that of the Hermetic School. In matter of fact, one of the mistresses of her brother Godō was a prodigy in its use.
"Well now…let's see how long it takes the idiots to figure out what I've done to them." Jean mused with a little giggle.
With Michelle Blanchefleur
The first sign that something was wrong was the immense beacon of magical energy that was coming from Rouen Cathedral. Michelle had been irked when that idiot Léonce had sent Jacques out as the leader, despite her instructions. The idiot was a radical who was far too confident in his own abilities.
Michelle was currently glaring at the captive Hearth Witch, who had been wearing the most irritatingly smug expression since her mistress had been sighted.
"Oh? What seems to be the problem, Paladin?" Rebecca taunted, "Has Jean gone against your expectations…again?"
The blonde woman was ready to lash out at the captive Englishwoman, but managed to restrain her impulse. She was an honourable Knight, after all.
"A slight setback, nothing more." she replied to the taunt brazenly, "Now it is time to-"
She was cut off by a loud yell from outside and Léonce hurried in looking panicked.
"Paladin! The Campione has unleashed an Authority that is hunting down our mages!" he babbled, "A green mist stalks us and is breaking through our barriers and shields as if they weren't there!"
"Calm yourself!" Michelle ordered him.
She stiffened as she felt the barrier that protected the building she stood in, the Rouen Chapterhouse of the Brotherhood of the Night Sky, bend, buckle and then shatter like glass. Almost immediately, shouting came from the Knights on the lower floors as they were evidently assailed by whatever the Authority was.
"What has she done?!" Michelle demanded of Rebecca.
"You'll find out in a moments time." the Hearth Witch replied with another smirk.
"You…!" the Paladin was beside herself with anger.
"IT'S HERE!" Léonce screamed.
Michelle whirled around to see a glowing green mist flood into the room. The aura of divinity that it gave off made it an Authority without question. She put up a barrier around herself in order to keep it from touching her.
Instead of going after her, as she had expected, the mist sought out Léonce, who screamed in fear and send fireballs at the mist in a fit of panic that made Michelle wonder how this idiot had made it to First Knight here in the first place.
The fireballs were ignored by the mist as it surged towards Léonce, winding around his body before forcing itself into his mouth and nose. She saw his eyes turn a glowing green for a moment before the mist released him.
Then it was her turn.
She was a Paladin, not only the highest-ranking Knight in her order but one of the most powerful as well. She might not be the equal of the Diavolo Rosso of the Copper Black Cross, but she was extremely powerful for a regular human mage.
The mist shattered her barrier as if it were made of soggy paper.
She struggled to get away, but the mist was relentless. After it forced its way inside of her mouth and nose, it let her go and retreated from the room, completely ignoring Rebecca.
"What the devil…wah!" Léonce said as he tripped over a pen on the floor and slammed face-first onto the floor with a crack. When he staggered to his feet, Michelle could see blood leaking profusely from his nose.
"Oaf! You are a disgrace to-!" Michelle said before she choked on a fly that just so happened to fly right into her mouth.
In the background, Rebecca was laughing her socks off.
"Hahahahahahahahaha! Ow, my sides hurt!"
Storming out of the room with Léonce in tow, Michelle was treated to the sight of her Knights suffering from numerous mishaps and minor injuries. Sprained ankles, spilled café crème on themselves, lost the lottery and a host of other things.
"A bad luck cursing Authority?!" she gasped as the pieces came together in her mind. This was confirmed by the ten Knights Léonce had sent out to meet with the Campione, with the additional information that it would last until 'conditions' were met. She stormed back to Rebecca's cell, narrowly avoiding tripping up a couple of times on the way, the letter Jean had given to the Knights grasped in her hand, open.
"Do you really think that a mere curse of bad luck will make my organisation crumble?!" she spat at Rebecca.
"This isn't some hedgewitch's piddling curse of minor bad luck that will go away after an hour or so, you arrogant woman." the Hearth Witch said contemptuously, "This is a curse derived from a God that will last until you accede to my King's reasonable demands of restitution. I take it that that letter in your hand is the list in question.
"Yes." Michelle snapped, "In addition to your freedom, the conditions of our release from this curse are €100000 to be paid into her accounts in Britain and we are not allowed to interfere with her for the next century in any way, shape or form. Does she really think we'll surrender to this blatant blackmail?!"
"Evidently." Rebecca replied blandly.
"Tch. One city being cursed with bad luck isn't something to make a fuss about." Michelle said, as if trying to convince herself.
"Just your mages, actually." the Witenagemot Witch corrected her, "I don't know everything about this Authority, but I do know that it requires someone to have done wrong by Jean in order to be used, and it only affects those she designates as those people who have wronged her in some fashion. It wouldn't surprise me if it was spreading to the rest of your mages in the rest of France as we speak."
It was not often that Michelle found herself on the back foot with anything, but in this case, she was. An Authority that was as far-reaching and as precise as that had never been recorded to the best of her knowledge. Could it actually be feasible to assume Rebecca was correct?
"Léonce!" she called and received no answer, "Where is that idiot? Léonce! Get your useless behind here now!"
The man in question crept into the room looking rather wet for some reason.
"What in the world happened to you?" Rebecca asked in amusement.
"Burst water pipe." he glowered at the Hearth Witch.
"Léonce, focus! Contact our Mother Chapterhouse in Paris and find out if they've been affected by that damn mist as well!" Michelle ordered.
"Merde! You cannot be serious!" the man cursed.
"As a bullet to the skull, now go!" she growled, out of patience.
With a cowed expression on his face, Léonce left the room at a trot.
"You know, you really might want to just give this up." Rebecca offered after a moment, "You aren't callous enough to kill or torture me and even if you do manage to do either to me, all that will do is make Jean change her restitution to your head on a silver platter. She might even quibble and ask for the platter to be sterling silver. She's a Scottish patriot after all."
"Shut up, or I will break your jaw!" Michelle snarled as she turned and stormed from the room.
Later
Courtyard, the Church of Joan of Arc
Jean stood in front of the cross that marked the place where Jeanne d'Arc's mortal incarnation had been executed. Slaying the Maid of Orléans had not been an easy thing to accomplish, in many ways. Her words to the Heretic Goddess before their fight had not been false; Joan of Arc had inspired many people, including Jean herself.
Granted, she had not been quite as assiduous in gathering information about her as Rebecca had been, but one of the best memories she had was of reading about Joan of Arc and how she wouldn't let her gender and the preconceptions of people around her get in the way of what she had to do. Choosing to be an Atheist had cooled her admiration of Joan, but Jean still had a lot of respect for her.
"Hi Joan." she said softly, "So…yeah. I killed you. I'm not exactly proud of it, but as you said, Campione and Heretic Gods are mortal enemies. Still, it was a good fight."
Jean paused for a moment. "I'm going to go and get Rebecca back now. Some idiot mages have kidnapped her. Hopefully the bad luck curse that they're under will stop them from doing anything stupid to her. If they have…well, let's deal with that if and when it happens. Goodbye, Maid of Orléans. I'll see you again when you emerge once again from the Domain of Immortality. Au revoir et agréables rêves, Jeanne d'Arc."
Turning around, Jean strode out of the church's yard. Unseen to her, the ghostly image of a familiar woman in armour appeared beside the cross and saluted her with a sword before vanishing.
Casually walking through the streets of Rouen, the Scottish girl cast her magic senses out. Given what Rebecca had told her about the power of an Authority verses that of regular spells, her Authority had undoubtedly shattered any barrier spell set around the local chapterhouse, so she couldn't track them via that.
'The highest concentration of magic ought to do it.' Jean concluded after a moment. Magic users were actually not uncommon in the world. Much like herself, some people were distantly descended from magic using bloodlines without even knowing about it. Others were single magic users living independently of the Mage Associations.
The majority of magic users, however, were at least affiliated with, if not a full member of, their local mage association. Being a member offered protection, resources, peers and friendships at the cost of having to follow the orders and agenda of the leader of that association.
Feeling throughout the city, Jean caught the impression of a great deal of mages concentrated on the other side of the river Seine. She had to wonder how they were coping with their bad luck curse. The majority of them would suffer from minor bad luck as a result of being a member of the organisation that had wronged her…pens not working, twisted ankles, constantly running into red lights…that sort of thing.
The more responsible they were for wronging her, the more powerful the bad luck curse would be for them. From what Jean had gleaned from examining [Jonah's Jinx], the curse wasn't powerful enough to kill them, even at its peak. Maiming and crippling were still on the table, though.
If they tried to cross over seawater, over or under it, the curse would be magnified several times over. Not something she thought would happen, but some might be stupid enough to try to flee to England.
Jean took the time to have a leisurely walk through Rouen as she travelled to the chapterhouse. She hadn't had much chance to do so since she had arrived in the city the previous day, what with jet lag and the like.
'I'm going to have to found a Mage Association as well, dammit.' she thought as she walked, 'If for no other reason than to keep the Royal Arsenal in check and out of Scotland. Damn you, Alec. Why do you have to be such an ass!?'
Crossing the river via the Pont Pierre-Comelle, Jean looked around and headed towards the Rue Desseaux, where the mages were congregated. Stopping in front of a relatively new-looking set of apartments, she could feel powerful magic here, slightly reduced by the destruction of several barriers and wards.
"An apartment building? I was expecting a church." Jean commented aloud. Shrugging, she walked towards the door, which burst open as three Knights emerged, bearing swords at her.
"Vous ne passerez pas!" one declared.
The seriousness of the moment was abruptly reduced when his trousers fell down around his ankles, his belt having snapped at the same time as his button having popped off and his fly coming undone.
"Really didn't need to see that!" the Campione complained as she shielded her eyes, "Cover your shame, man!"
The man stumbled back, but fell on his ass with squawk.
"Faithful blade of steel and sea! Come, appear before me!" Jean chanted, the cutlass appearing in her hand, "I would advise you two to stand aside. I am not best pleased with your actions against me to date and will dole out additional punishments as and when required."
Of the two remaining Knights, one hesitated before sheathing his blade and standing to one side with a nod.
"Traitre!" the other Knight snarled.
"No, he's simply well aware when he's facing an opponent out of his pay grade." Jean corrected him, "Unlike you, it would seem."
With a curse, the man thrust at her with his weapon, a rapier. She smashed it in half with contemptuous ease with her own weapon before kicking him to one side. He slammed into the wall and was knocked out.
"Tend to your companions, if you please." Jean said to the only sensible Knight, "I have business with your Paladin. You wouldn't happen to know where he or she is, would you?"
"T-Top floor." the man replied nervously, "Michelle Blanchefleur is her name. She should be in the holding cell with your, ah, subordinate, Your Majesty."
"My thanks." Jean said with a regal nod, "If you would take some advice, you might want to skedaddle after this. Doubtless the Paladin will be looking for a scapegoat or three."
The man gulped and nodded.
Jean smiled and headed into the building with her cutlass resting on her shoulder. Most of the Knights and other magic users her met on the way were glaring at her as the results of her curse were easily obvious on them. For some reason, twisted ankles were the most common affliction her curse caused, along with spilt coffee and burst water pipes.
"Hold it right there!" a man spat at her once she made it to the second floor.
"Oi…another one?" Jean muttered, "Cockroaches, the lot of you. Out of my way!"
"Dieu, pardonne-moi pour ce que je vais faire!" he shouted, "Je suis un homme et donc, un pécheur! Pardonnez mes transgressions et de laisser mes péchés être emportés le long de ma vie!"
As he spoke, a golden glow surrounded him, giving Jean a bad feeling.
"What is he doing?!" she demanded of a terrified looking man nearby.
"S-Sacrificial magic! Illegal magic!" he stuttered, "He'll take out the entire building if he completes the incantation!"
"Then I'll shut him up!" Jean growled. She charged at the clearly deranged man and kicked him where no man wants to be kicked, cutting his chanting off abruptly and dispersing the golden glow around him at the same time.
As the man crumpled to the ground with a pained groan, Jean looked at the other man and ordered, "Bind and gag this fool so he can't try that again. Once I've left, report him to your Paladin for what he just tried."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" the man answered instinctively.
"Good." the Scots girl nodded and carried on.
On the third floor, she finally found Michelle Blanchefleur right where she was supposed to be. In the room with her was Rebecca, suspended by her manacles wrists from the ceiling, and another man, who was saying something to the Paladin in a panic. He sounded very familiar.
"-all over the country, wherever our Brotherhood is." he was saying, "No barrier can keep it out and over ninety percent of us have been cursed. The members near the channel tunnel are about to make a break for it to England-"
"I really wouldn't advise that, monsieur Léonce." she drawled as she stepped into the room casually, "It might make the tunnel collapse or something once my curse catches up with them."
"You!" Michelle growled as she whirled around.
"Yup. Me." Jean confirmed before looking at Rebecca, "Dearie me Rebecca. I never pegged you as one to just hang around and do nothing."
"Ha. Ha. Bloody Ha." Rebecca said flatly, "Your humour needs work, my King. Now can you please get me out of these restraints? This isn't exactly comfortable, just so you know."
"She won't be doing anything!" Michelle snarled. The Paladin had her sword drawn at this point and pointed at Jean.
"Seriously?" the Campione sighed, "Look, you do not stand a chance here. Give up and agree to my demands or your organisation will suffer my curse for the rest of their natural lives."
"Paladin, please!" Léonce begged her, "Over a third of the afflicted have been injured in some way, from twisted ankles to a broken back! We cannot afford to have these casualties continue!"
"You are a spineless worm, Léonce!" Michelle spat angrily, "Begone if you wish to go, but I will stay the course!"
"You choose pride of the safety of your subordinates?" Jean asked darkly, "What a pathetic excuse for a leader you truly are."
The sword in Jean's hand glowed, as did Michelle herself. Then, things started to happen.
The ceiling above the Paladin burst open, releasing a torrent of brown water that stank of sewage on top of her, making Jean and Léonce recoil from her slightly. Obviously a water main had burst. Quite why it smelled of sewage was beyond Jean, but she was willing to bet her curse had something to do with it.
"This is a waste of my time." Jean growled, "Stand aside!"
She strode forwards, making the First Knight stumble away from her in fear. Spluttering, Michelle tried to raise her weapon, but dropped it as the water made the hilt slippery, impaling her foot.
"Ow." Jean winced as the woman screamed in pain, "Hey, worm! Help your boss."
As Léonce scuttled to obey, the redhead smashed the chains into pieces with one slice of her weapon, catching Rebecca with her free hand as the Hearth Witch fell to the ground.
"Easy." she muttered, "Can you stand?"
"Y…yes…I think so." Rebecca replied, "These cuffs are sealing my magic though. I'll recover faster if they're removed."
Jean grabbed the keys that hung on a hook near the door and tried all of them, finally unlocking the manacles and throwing them into the wall once they were removed from her friend's person.
"Ahhhh…much better." Rebecca sighed as she massaged her wrists.
"Let's get out of here before someone else does something stupid." Jean said, before she turned to Michelle and Léonce and said, "Should you come to your senses, you can contact me via Princess Alice of the Greenwich Witenagemot. Oh, and add on €50000 to the initial amount for forcing me to break Rebecca out. Au Revoir."
With that, she helped her friend walk out of the door, leaving the Paladin of the Brotherhood of the Night Sky and the First Knight of the Rouen Chapter behind to lick their wounds.
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The Next Day
On the Plane to Edinburgh Airport
"I owe you, Jean." Rebecca said softly. The two women were sitting in First Class, at Rebecca's insistence, and the Scots girl was exhausted still, not having slept whatsoever in the last sixteen hours.
She had kept guard at their next hotel on the off chance that the Brotherhood tried something else. Thankfully, they hadn't, but Jean was so tired it had been a struggle to get her on board the plane.
"S'not something to worry about." Jean slurred tiredly, "Friends, right?"
"Yeah…we're friends." Rebecca whispered, "Still, I owe you for saving me. What do you want?"
"Let me sleep!" the Scottish girl begged.
"OK. Say hello to Lady Pandora for me." the Hearth Witch replied. She focussed on a basic sleeping spell before pressing her lips to Jean's, making her eyes widen in surprise before they fluttered shut.
Rebecca adjusted Jean's sleeping body so it was more comfortable before reclining back in her seat with a sigh. Her hand went to her pocket where her wand was. She had recovered it from the hotel room where it had been left after her defeat by the Knights and she was glad that it was in one piece.
The fight had been short and brutal, with her being overwhelmed by far more powerful enemies, so she had lashed out with her magic wildly, managing to slam several of her foes into the walls. Then she had been hit with a knockout spell of some kind, which had presumably made her drop her wand.
'Great-Aunt Eleanor would be furious with me if anything happened to it.' she mused with a shudder. That old woman was a stubborn old hag who ruled her family with an iron fist. It was why Rebecca had been something of a workaholic, keeping away from the family home as much as was possible. It had been fortunate coincidence that her family had been on a trip of some kind the last time she had visited her Hearth.
'My Hearth…' the Hearth Witch thought with a frown. She had to move her Hearth to wherever Jean was going to live. If she didn't, she would be vulnerable to this kind of incident constantly.
For Hearth Witches, the Hearth was both a source of power and their Magnus Opus, their life's work. Rebecca had been forced by family tradition to make her first Hearth the Family Estate, which allowed her family to have a say in what that Magnus Opus would be.
She liked being a seamstress, but her family wanted her to specialise in gardening, which was why she would take this opportunity to escape her family's expectations. She'd talk to Jean and see if her King would speak to Princess Alice and sort it out for her.
'Honestly…it was just over a week ago that I was terrified of the idea of being anywhere near a Campione and now I'm trusting one with freeing me from my Great-Aunt's gasp.' she thought with a chuckle, 'Not to mention my loyalty. How quickly things change.'
Rebecca Piper sighed and decided to catch some sleep as well. You could never have enough of it, after all.
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Next Chapter: A Castle for a King
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Authority Expose!
[Der Fliegende Holländer]
The user summons and controls the ghost ship known as the Flying Dutchman. While doing so, a ghostly aura surrounds them.
Incantation: Accursed wreck, Ship of the Damned, Arise now to serve me.
Conditions for Use:
- Can only be used either on a body of water that is connected to the sea or the sea itself.
- Can only be manifested at night or during a storm.
- Can only be manifested for one hour per night.
Effects:
- Once invoked, a phantasmal Dutch Man-O-War erupts from underneath the waves.
- The ship is fully loaded for battle. 124 Cannon, a full zombie crew armed with cutlasses, muskets and one-shot pistols.
- The crew cannot leave the ship, but can fire at any target designated by the user.
- Should the user be aboard the ship when the time limit is up, they are transported to the bottom of the sea at the Cape of Good Hope.
- While resilient to damage, the Flying Dutchman isn't invincible. It can be sunk with enough accumulated damage, in which case it cannot be summoned for one lunar cycle afterwards.
