The bleeding had finally stopped by the time we reached the next island. The area alternated between throbbing and itching, but after the first hour or so, I was finally able to more or less ignore that source of discomfort.
Both Marie and Medea had offered to try to speed up the healing of the injury once we were far enough away from the site where we last saw the Queen Anne's Revenge. I had insisted, however, on the two to use their abilities first on those most injured of Drake's crew. By the time they had managed to do so, they were rather drained.
Therefore, I was informed that I would have to wait until tomorrow to get my arm fully healed, though not without any scars. I shrugged off the last piece of information. Sure, I'd have rather not experienced the near-death aspect of it, but it was something I would bear with pride. In the meantime, though, my arm would be in a makeshift sling. My now-ruined dress shirt was tied around my waist, leaving my top covered only by a thin yet durable black t-shirt.
Sadly, Mordred was giving me the silent treatment, even as she stood close to my side. I watched the beach getting closer and closer.
"Damn it, this is as far as she can go. All hands, brace for impact!" Drake called out. I reached out to grab something, anything, to keep me standing on two feet, but a metal-clad hand wrapped itself tightly around my waist, and Mordred pulled me close to her. I blinked, startled, but before I could ask what the heck she was doing, the Golden Hind shuddered violently, lurching forward like a drunkard wandering home from the bar.
Drake and her helmsman had successfully beached the ship. The final vibrations had hardly subsided when a certain gorgon rushed towards the side of the ship, slamming her small palms on the top of the wooden railing with a frantic air about her.
"Asterios! Where's Asterios?" Euryale cried out, a hint of panic in her voice. Not waiting for anything, the Greek Archer jumped off of the main deck, landing on the soft sand of the beach underneath. I wriggled my way out of Mordred's proactive grip, and made my way over to the railing, as one of Drake's pirates lowered a rope ladder down the side to facilitate for a safer means of boarding and disembarking from the grounded ship. "Jacob, Ritsuka, Mash! Help me look for him, too!"
I grunted loudly, swinging myself over the railing and sliding down, albeit clumsily, the rope ladder. My boots sunk into the soft sand, and I jogged over to the edge of the beach, where the end half of the Hind was still floating rather haphazardly on the water.
"Fou! Fou, fou!" Fou cried out, the poor thing soaked in salt water as he paddled by the area where we had last seen Asterios. "Kyuuuuuu!" The critter than clambered aboard a mass of white hair that had two horns protruding upwards.
"Fou found him!" Mash said loudly, and to my amazement, her animal companion started trying to drag him over. Even though the water reduced much of the Berserker's weight, he still shouldn't be able to be pulled by so small a creature.
"I'll help!" Drake said, rather than offered, wading hurried through the water and hooking an arm around the floating Asterios. "Ugh, why is he so heavy?!" I looked up with my brow furrowed.
"Lu Bu!" I called out, and the Chinese Berserker leapt off the main deck and landed next to me with a low, grumbling roar. "Assist Drake," I instructed the Servant. He nodded with another rumble, and then waded in the water until he reached the other side of Asterios, and mimicked the actions of the pink-haired Servant across from him.
A minute later, and Asterios was slowly shaking his head back and forth, trying to rid himself of the water that had soaked his hair and clothing. "…Ugh…" Asterios grunted, before nodding his head in what I presumed to be gratitude towards Fou, Drake, and Lu Bu.
"Thankfully, he's alive, but it looks like that wound Mordred gave him has re-opened," mash observed solemnly. I took a closer look. Having overlooked it at first, I could now see the diluted trail of crimson leaking down his chest from where Clarent had slashed its way through him.
Euryale tromped over and gave her companion a smack on his right forearm, a reproachful frown on her delicate features. "That's for being so reckless before making a full recovery!" She said sternly. She took a half-step backwards and looked up at him, hands on her hips. "What kind of moron keeps swimming while carrying a galleon! You dummy!" Despite her insults, I could tell that the petite gorgon was extremely relieved to see that her friend/bodyguard was alive and well. To my amusement, the Minotaur looked down at her and smiled gently.
"This kind…of…moron…" Asterios said, pointing a thumb at his chest. Euryale groaned in frustration, throwing her hands up into the air despairingly.
"That's not something you should brag about! Did you forget about your role of carrying me on your shoulders? Go on, get that wound of yours bandaged," Euryale said, sticking her nose up slightly and trying to mask the small smile of relief she had adopted.
"Mgh…" Asterios rumbled, almost sounding like a petulant child as Mordred silently rejoined me. I suppressed yet another sigh. Again, I could tell that she was upset, and I didn't exactly have to be a genius to figure out why. The real question was, what can I do to fix it?
Shaking my head slightly, I (albeit clumsily) untied my ruined overshirt from around my waist, and then handing it over to Asterios. "Hey, big guy, use this," I said with a lopsided smile. Asterios turned and looked down at me, tilting his head slightly to the side.
"…Huh?"
"Well, this should be big enough for you to use as a bandage. Consider it another apology, too," I said casually. The Greek Berserker looked me over for a minute or two, before nodding. With surprising delicacy, the larger man accepted the shirt and started to apply it over his chest with a bandage.
"Hm, let me help," Medea said a bit lazily, as Asterios struggled to keep the makeshift bandage in place. Trusting that Ritsuka's Caster would take care of the rest, I turned around to see Mash tap Drake's shoulder. The latter appeared to have been in deep thought as she gazed at the stern of her beloved ship, and the pirate jumped slightly at the contact.
"Hm? Sorry, I was thinking. What's up, Mash?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Drake," Mash said, bowing her head apologetically and therefore missing the eyeroll Drake gave her in response to the overly-polite mannerisms of the Demi-Servant. "I was just wondering, how is the ship?"
Drake's hands rested on her hips, exhaling sharply with a scowl. "It's no good. Even if we bail out all the water she took in from the blow, unless we patch up that damn hole, the Golden Hind won't be going anywhere anytime soon." She turned to Asterios, now properly bandaged up, and shot the Servant a hearty grin. "Thanks to Asterios, though, we can repair her once we find the material to do so, at least."
"Hm…Wel…come," Asterios grunted with another pleased smile on his lips. I frowned slightly, however. Call it intuition, cynicism, or whatever you want, but I felt that Drake had more bad news to share. I sighed under my breath before clearing my throat.
"Why do I sense a 'but' statement coming up?" I said, and to my grim satisfaction, Francis nodded her head.
"Aye. But we don't have enough materials onboard to perform a satisfactory repair job. Luckily, it seems that this island also has a forest like the last few, so I guess we can make some timber out of those trees," she said, gesturing inland. Right where the sand turned into soil, there were mainly palm trees. Spongy and flexible, but not necessarily the right kind of wood to fix a ship with. Further back, however, there seemed to be pine or oak trees. I hummed.
"Before we start cutting down trees, perhaps we should take a small party to scout out the area? No point in risking anyone getting killed by monsters or anything, after all," I suggested, and Drake nodded.
"True. Plus, I want to ask you guys something," Drake said.
"What's that?" Rits asked, and Drake scowled softly.
"How to sink that huge fool of a pirate!" Ah yes, that was an important topic to discuss, wasn't it? I had a feeling that Doctor Roman might have an idea or two.
"Let's go a bit further inland first. I want to make sure that the immediate area isn't crawling with enemies. Mordred, Jeanne, Lu Bu, you're with us."
"Hmph," Mordred grunted.
"As you wish, Jacob," Jeanne said with that soft smile of hers. Next to them, the sole Berserker of Chaldea nodded in acknowledgment. Note to self: figure out a way to communicate with Berserkers that have a high-enough ranking Madness Enhancement that rendered them essentially mute.
The serenity of the forest, and the moment of peace, was something I was sadly unable to take full advantage of, burned in my thoughts as I was. I knew that eventually I would encounter some sort of hiccup, so to speak, between Mordred and I when we started dating. There was quite a difference, however, between knowing/expecting the possibility, and being able to deal with it.
Finally, we reached a decent-sized grass clearing, and came to a halt. At the head of the column, Drake spun around on the back of her heels gracefully and took in a deep breath as she faced us.
"Okay, let's take a break. I wanna start talking about that mockery of a battle we got away from," Drake said firmly. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, and her scowl was still showing. "There wasn't much of a difference in the performance between the ships. The real issue was the thickness of their armor. Did any of you guys see any iron plates or something like that? Or was it some sort of magic trick?"
I shook my head. Thankfully, there was still a few centuries left in the West before true ironclads like the HMS Warrior, USS Monitor, or others were prowling around. Even though Blackbeard was from the 18th century, he still shouldn't have iron plating.
"It may be a matter of the latter," Mash said slowly. "Our cannons had no real effect, after all. Doctor, please tell us about Blackbeard."
"I have some knowledge, and considering I got it from the archives of Chaldea, it should be pretty accurate," Roman said, before clearing his throat and sounding like he was adopting a more professional tone of voice when he resumed speaking. "Right. Obviously, Blackbeard was a pirate, one born over 100 years after Francis Drake. As I said earlier, his real name was Edward Teach. Teach was one of the pirates who ruled over the Caribbean. His policy was brutal yet simple. He would kill anyone who showed any form of resistance, but would spare the rest. Based in Nassau, a city in the Bahamas, he rampaged through those waters on his beloved ship, from as far north as the state of Virginia, to as far south as Honduras."
"Beloved ship?" Mash asked. Ah, right, I hadn't mentioned to any of them the name of his ship. I kept silent, not wanting to steal any of Roman's thunder.
"Correct. It was called the Queen Anne's Revenge. At one point it was reported that he had three hundred men on board, but there could have been more, of course. It wasn't the only ship under his command, though. He built up a large fleet centered around his flagship, and thus reigned as one of the strongest and worst pirates of his time. However, he ended up losing his head during a battle with the British Royal Navy, off the coast of North Carolina." Roman paused, whistling softly under his breath. "Wow, to think that he is here, as a Servant…" Mash grimaced, interrupting the acting-director.
"Please don't say any more. He's a Servant I'd rather not remember," she said firmly. Nearby, Euryale nodded with a knowing and haunted look in her eyes.
"I've already erased the image of that…thing…from my brain," the Archer said rather proudly. Drake sneered before speaking her own mind on the matter.
"Yeah, I won't deny the fact that all pirates are trashy, but he is the trashiest of them all. The King of Trash. That's what he is," the pirate said vehemently, and then closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Waiting a few seconds, she finally exhaled and opened her eyes. "Sorry, everybody. I apologize on behalf of all pirates."
"Eh, there's always the best of the best, and the worse of the worst," I said bluntly. "At least you're nowhere near at risk of falling into the category of the latter." Drake adopted a crooked smile, her eyes sparkling merrily now.
"Jacob…you're a good guy….I think you'd be a great pirate!" I felt my cheeks heating up slightly at the compliment. "As a pirate, I can guarantee it!" Mash coughed politely, and we all fell silent once more.
"Doctor, are there any stories that could give us a clue as to Blackbeard's Noble Phantasm?" Mash asked. Over the open commlink, Roman hummed, and I could hear the sound of the keys of a keyboard being pressed rapidly. A minute or two later, the doctor spoke up.
"There are a few. Among them, I think his ship has the highest possibility of being a Noble Phantasm. I was monitoring the magical energy levels during the battle, and his ship gave off some of the strongest readings I have seen in this Singularity. Captain Drake's vessel also gave off a fairly-strong signature, too, perhaps because of the Grail. Regardless, the Queen Anne's Revenge was the superior ship back there," Doctor Roman explained. I could imagine the frustrated look on his face. I had one of my own showing, after all, and I wasn't the only one.
"So, what you're saying is that my ship is no match for his, period?" Drake asked darkly. Mash sighed but nodded.
"I'm afraid it seems that way."
"Actually, there was something interesting that I noticed towards the end of the battle," Roman quickly interjected. I raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Don't leave us hanging. What happened?"
"Right before you escaped, I noticed that the signature Blackbeard's ship was giving off was reduced somewhat. Not critically so, unfortunately, but still a rather noticeable amount. Did something happen on your end?"
"If memory serves me right, that was the moment that Mordred killed Eric Bloodaxe," Mash reported dutifully. Roman made a noise of excitement at that.
"Right! We confirmed that he vanished completely this time on our end as well. Ah, that's it!"
"What do you mean, Doctor Roman?" Ritsuka asked a laughing Roman.
"Simply put, Blackbeard's Noble Phantasm is that ship of his. I suspect that it's the kind of Noble Phantasm that gets a power boost as each of his subordinates get stronger and stronger. That's why, when Bloodaxe was defeated for good, there was a reduction in the levels of magical energy readings from the Queen Anne's Revenge. They didn't appear to recover, either, right up until we lost track of them during your retreat."
"In other words, the more Servants it carries, the stronger it becomes?" Mash asked. I couldn't help but scoff at the idea.
"Sounds like some sort of video or tabletop game mechanic," I muttered under my breath. Still, this was potentially great news!
"Yes, I believe so," Roman said, the conviction in his voice becoming stronger and louder. "Including Blackbeard, there were a total of five Servant signatures aboard his ship. Now that Mordred has killed Eric, that number is now four."
Mash hummed softly, before glancing at a care-free looking Euryale. "Perhaps the main reason he sought Euryale, other than that apparent personal interest he mentioned, was because by having her on board and working with him, he would become even stronger," Mash suggested aloud.
"But now we know what the inverse results in," I piped up, a feral smirk on my lips now. "Search and destroy. That's what our approach should be, once Drake's ship is fully repaired." Jeanne frowned slightly, before speaking up softly.
"I fear that it'll be easier said than done," the Ruler cautioned, and I nodded reluctantly, my smirk fading away slightly.
"If only there was an easier way to draw them away from each other," Mash said with a heavy sigh. An action Roman also repeated over the commlink.
"Ah, I've never encountered a hindrance like him before. He knows nothing, and yet he still disturbs our search for Lev's Holy Grail!" Drake gave off a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of her head while doing so.
"Well, we pirates are all like that. We take treasures from people, no matter how good they may be."
"Bet you have a great customer service section, then," I said with a flat look that had Drake's cheeks flushing slightly. "Still, at least we know that we can overcome Blackbeard. That's progress, in my opinion."
"Jacob does have a—" Doctor Roman paused mid-sentence. "Wait, I'm picking up a number of life signatures on the island. Several are headed your way….it looks like a flight of wyverns!"
Seconds later, a familiar screeching roar echoed around the grassy clearing as four red and one black wyvern circled overhead. Well, at least there was no Dragon Witch running about spawning and commanding them this time.
Next to me, Drake let out a low whistle of awe, eyes wide but unafraid. "Oh, so this is what a dragon looks like? It really looks like a lizard!"
"Wyverns aren't true dragons," Ritsuka corrected her. Beside him, Mash nodded, summoning her shield.
"Wyverns and a grassy field. Remind you of anything, Mordred, Jeanne?"
"Sadly, it does," Jeanne said softly, twirling her flagpole as she adopted a fighting stance. On the other side of me, Mordred grunted as she readied her sword, apparently still intent on giving me the silent treatment. I repressed a sigh, noticing the soft frown Jeanne shot at the Knight of Rebellion, and the sympathetic look she gave me.
Unfortunately, I still had to wait a bit before I could use my injured arm. The drawback of insisting on Medea and Marie focus on healing Drake's companions before worrying over me. Still, I wasn't going to stand around uselessly.
I closed my eyes and pictured the moisture in the air around me condensing and becoming frozen into shards of ice. With a wave of a mental hand, I imagine the shards being compressed against one another, forming a dozen or so yard-long ice spikes.
The first dragon swooped down with outstretched talons, a bloodthirsty shriek escaping from its maw. The shriek quickly turned into a squawk as Lu Bu split it in half with a graceful and powerful strike of his halberd.
Firing off two quick shots, Drake felled another two wyverns with unerring accuracy. I extended my uninjured hand at another, and about half of the ice projections I had created shot forward. Several red bursts across the targeted wyvern's chest a second later signaled that the attack had been successful, and the dying beast fell towards the ground.
Now, only the black wyvern was left. I launched the rest of my remaining spikes, but to my dismay, each one appeared to have simply bounced off of the scales protecting the winged beast. When Ritsuka launched several Gandr attacks in rapid succession, a similar result was achieved, and the beast roared triumphantly before it too dived down.
Unfortunately for it, Drake had reloaded one of her pistols by now. Carefully lining up the barrel of the flintlock with the head of the wyvern, she fired a shot and the last wyvern joined its fallen brethren in death.
"Enemy has been eliminated, Master," Mash reported, de-spawning her shield and stretching slightly. Unlike in Orléans, the corpse of the black wyvern wasn't instantly dissolving. The blood-stained scales that had protected its body glinted in the evening light. "Hmmm, I wonder…"
"Penny for your thoughts?" I said with a small smile. Mash nodded a bit hesitantly.
"Perhaps we could use dragon scales to make our own ship armor?"
"Huh?" Drake said, blinking in shock. "Are you guys actually planning on fixing my ship with dragons?" She asked, sounding more incredulous than dismissive. Euryale hummed, before nodding, a wicked smile on her lips.
"Oh, that's a brilliant plan. If you process it, dragon scales are even harder than steel. We will need someone really strong to process it, though…" I smirked once more.
"I think I have someone in mind. Two, in fact. Lu Bu, Asterios, would you guys be okay with taking on that task?" My Berserker nodded once, while Asterios grunted.
"Yes," He said in a clipped tone.
"Excellent! I'll try to strip their scales immediately!" Mash said energetically. I turned to look at Mordred and Jeanne in time to see the former stomping over to the wyvern in question and stab Clarent angrily into the side of the slain creature, essentially using the massive sword as an over-sized butcher's knife. Mash paled slightly, deciding that perhaps it would be better to leave the de-scaling to Mordred.
Perhaps that would be enough to let the Knight of Rebellion work out the frustration hat has been building inside her.
"Technical Director Leonardo," Mash said, waiting a few minutes before the eccentric Caster announced her presence in Chaldea's control room with her typical theatrical manner. "How many wyverns in total do you think we will need to slay to cover the vital areas of Captain Drake's ship?"
"Hmmm…Well, considering the size of the individual scales, and the potential shrinkage each would experience, I would say about thirty to sixty wyverns should suffice. I'll have Romani take a little look to see if there's a nest of them on this island," the first Servant of Chaldea said.
"Tch, that's no small number," I groused, scratching the back of my head with my uninjured arm. Mash nodded solemnly.
"Yes, it will take some time, but if we can take out a wyvern nest, then it would only take about a day before repairs are finished," Mash countered. I nodded back but bit my lip slightly.
"Alright, let's first finish scaling the beast, and then take these scales back to the beach, then we can go hunting," I said. Next to me, Ritsuka perked up excitedly.
"It's like a quest then," my fellow Master said, and I couldn't help but shake my head and laugh softly at that. Good old Ritsuka, always trying to be an optimist in all regards to the word. Mash beamed at her crush.
"Yes. We make for pretty good adventures, don't we, Senpai?"
"Hmm, maybe I should change the ship's name to the Golden Dragon…" Drake muttered absently as, having noticed Mordred had finished de-scaling the dead wyvern, we started to pick up the scales before heading back to the others.
An hour and a half later, we were back at it. We had encountered several more black-scaled wyverns, and after killing them, had taken care to remove every last one of their scales. Still, it wasn't in enough numbers to make a dent in the target number Da Vinci had provided us with.
Nor was it helping any with my issue regarding Mordred.
The Knight of Rebellion was in the lead, hacking and slashing her way through thick jungle undergrowth, and we all followed close behind. Mash, Ritsuka, Asterios, Euryale, and Drake all hung towards the rear, giving me and Jeanne privacy to talk about my (latest) dilemma.
"She's upset."
"Gee, I never would have guessed," I said snappishly, before quailing under Jeanne's reproachful gaze. "Sorry, sorry. That was uncalled for. Yes, Mordred is angry. She's angry because she almost saw me die, again, and even got hurt this time."
"All of which is understandable, more or less," Jeanne added. I nodded my head slightly towards the French Servant.
"Aye. Of course, knowing what the problem is, is far different from knowing how to fix it. Normally, going a round or two in the practice ring would help, but obviously, this," I gesture towards my injury, "is probably keeping her from doing so."
"And since she doesn't exactly have the best grasp of dealing with certain strong emotions, she is sort of just lashing out," Jeanne said sadly, and I nodded. My teeth grinded as my jaw clenched. Damn Morgan. "Perhaps I could try to help out? After all, I'd like to think that I did a fairly decent job the last time you and Mordred had a little spat."
I hummed softly, before looking the blonde in the eyes. "Would you be willing to do so?" Jeanne shot me a beautiful smile.
"Of course! You're like a little brother to me, after all." My cheeks flushed slightly. Heh, getting k(kinda?) adopted by the Maid of Orléans, and dating the Knight of Rebellion. Life truly was filled with surprises of all sorts, after all.
"Be careful! I'm detecting two signatures up ahead. One is a Servant, but doesn't seem to be hostile. The other….what is this?" Doctor Roman's confused voice interrupted the moment, and we all came to a halt. "Huh. It's tiny. Maybe a familiar?"
"A familiar?" Mash repeated warily, summoning her shield.
"What kind of familiar, Doc?" I added, ready to activate my Magic Circuits at a second's notice.
"I don't really know. It looks like it doesn't have that much magical energy to it, however, so I don't think we need to be too concerned." Euryale hummed softly, and I looked in the direction of Asterios and her. The gorgon was once more perched on Asterios's right shoulder, as if she were some sort of pet bird.
"Huh?" Grunted the Greek Servant, his muscles tensing slightly. Euryale frowned softly, before shaking her head.
"Oh, it's nothing. I just had a bad feeling. And also, watch it! With your height, I'll be hitting my head on tree branches. Please, either duck a little, or hold me in your arms." The Minotaur grunted softly, before holding her almost-bridal style. The Archer sighed happily. "Oh, yes, this is way better," she said with a purr in her voice.
"Christ," Drake sighed with a weary shake of her head. "Comfy enough over there, Princess?" The Servant in question scoffed, sounding offended.
"Princess? I'm a goddess."
"Ladies, ladies, you're all pretty. Can we maybe not make enough of a racket to wake the dead?" I said dryly. Mordred and Jeanne seemed to have noticed it as well, but the forest had gone deathly quiet. Odds were, something dangerous was nearby.
"Please, stop. Stop! Don't chew, don't chew please! Not food! Not food!" A squeaky yet distinctively masculine voice rang out in the clearing, along with the snarling noises that I recognized as being those made by a wyvern.
"Sounds like someone is in trouble!" Rits said, eyes wide in alarm and fear. My own face tensed slightly, and I activated my circuits. Once again, I found myself silently thanking Medea for all of her efforts in improving my magical skills.
"Let's hurry," I said in grim agreement.
"Yes!" Mash cried out.
"Yes, Master!" Jeanne added. But before either of them could move out, Mordred sprung forward like a coiled viper…if said viper was also covered in crimson lighting. I cursed under my breath at Mordred's especially recklessness and, along with the others, chased after her.
By the time we reached a clearing, Mordred was extracting a bloodied Clarent from the chest of a green wyvern. I cursed under my breath again, this time in regard to the fallen dragon-creature. It seems that the ones most consistent in staying long enough to remove the majority of the scales were the black ones.
Unfortunately, it seems that the variant was rather rare on the island. Out of the thirty or so wyverns we had encountered already, only nine had been black ones.
The second thing I noticed was the lack of human or humanoid body parts. Nor was there anyone other than us in the area. I looked at my fully-armored Saber.
"Mordred, did you see anything when you got here?" The Knight of Rebellion merely shook her head as the corpse of her slain opponent finished vanishing.
"But, I thought we heard someone's voice earlier…" Mash said, looking rather mystified.
"I'm not seeing anything on my end. Maybe they ran away just before Mordred got there?" In response, Mash's commlink chimed, and the Demi-Servant activated it.
"Yes, Doctor?"
"Okay, so, do you guys remember that weak magic response I mentioned earlier? Well, it seems like it is right next to you. Do you see anything?"
My head whipped around the clearing. My frown deepened as I saw nothing that was out of the ordinary. Double-checking, I looked up at the sky. Nothing beyond a few puffy white clouds and blue sky. Was it invisible, perhaps? I certainly hope it wasn't underground.
"No, not real—" Mash started to say, taking a step forward when the same voice from earlier suddenly echoed in a grunt. We all looked at Mash in shock.
"D-Did you just step on something?" Rits asked our pink-haired friend. Mash slowly lifted one of her metal heels. I saw some sort of chipmunk-teddy bear-cavemen plushy. The others all peered over my shoulder.
"Okay, just what the hell is this?" I said with a long sigh.
Original Endnotes: Hey, it's Anastasia's doll, right? Her backup one, rather. Totally not a sex-pest Greek hunter or something...
So, what did you guys all think? Did you enjoy it? Poor Mordred, she's upset (quite understandably) but is not showing a good job at handling or expressing it :( Also, Jeanne's finally admitted what we all knew! Also, poor Mash, looks like she has PTSD, huh?
So, without anything else really needing to be said, it's time for the question(s) of the chapter! First up: What do you guys and gals thinks of the current CCC event? Confusing, fun...why BB? Second question: What is the weirdest dish of food you've ever had?
As always, thanks for reading this far! I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to comment and all that jazz! Eagerly awaiting to read your feedback and answers, and have a good rest of the day! See all you guys and gals in the next chapter!
Updated Endnotes 11/07/21: As always, you can catch up with the rest of the story on Archive of Our Own if you want to skip the wait of me posting the chapters on here. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and see you in the next update.