Science and Madness

by The Blight

In their pursuit of power and "data", defectors from Zurrernorn and Corpus of the Abyss try summoning something directly from beyond. However, what they pull from the other side is completely unexpected. Away from home and disoriented, a madman finds that when the world is filled impossibly powerful beings, science is his only ally.

26. New Lands, New Battles

The lead driver asked nervously. "So you want all of this to go to E-Rantel?"

Stockwell nodded to him. "That's right."

The driver would be leading a convoy of over two dozen carts all filled to their max capacity with steel ingots and pieces of metal refining equipment. It was most of the steel and equipment left in the E-Pespel branch that had still yet to make the move to E-Rantel. The driver was a diligent employee and didn't question his boss's decisions, but even so, E-Rantel was a different kind of place now.

"Are the rumors true? About what's going on over there? That monsters roam the streets as though they were everyday citizens?"

"Those rumors are true alright." Stockwell said. "They also make every person that enters the city flip a coin. And if you guess the wrong face, they rip off your head on the spot."

"W-What!?"

"And every night, the Sorcerer King casts a spell that makes giant, nine-legged undead spiders rain from the sky for several hours straight. So I'd suggest not going outdoors after dark and keeping your windows shut when you get there. If the spiders find you, they'll wrap you up in a cocoon and turn your insides into a smoothie. I imagine it's so they can drink you at a more convenient time."

The driver had a horrified look on his face. "H-How… how—"

"—I'm joking. Yes there's monsters there, but they don't hurt citizens."

The driver's face showed no signs of relief. "But I've also heard—

"—I'll give you a 20% raise."

The driver changed his attitude on a dime. "Yes sir!"

He turned around and called out to the convoy behind his shoulder. "Ready up! We're moving out!"

Stockwell politely waved the driver off as the convoy rolled away down the road.

He watched quietly as all the steel slowly made its way out of sight. It likely didn't matter to the Sorcerer King where it actually went so long as it wasn't in the Re-Estize kingdom.

He turned and went back into the small building that served as his administrative base of operations in E-Pespel.

The building only had two offices in it, but that by itself was more than enough. It was very rare that the building ever held more than a single occupant.

He entered one of the offices and addressed a man hard at work. The man was the primary accountant for E-Rantel Steel Works.

He was laboriously compiling multiple business ledgers by hand into a master report for his boss.

Stockwell only had so much time on his hands so it was only obvious that many of the necessary tasks that came with running a large company had been allocated to other people. Accounting was a chief example of that.

"Hey, you know that if you want to continue working for the company you'll have to return to E-Rantel, right?"

The accountant looked up from his abacus. He gulped painfully in his throat. "Yes, I know."

He was one of the many people who had fled E-Rantel the moment he had been able.

"Look, I understand you don't want to go back, but all the lines of communications are already set up at the main office over there. Your being here bottlenecks the whole system." Stockwell said.

All the accountant could do was nod. "...Yes, I know. Just give me a few more weeks to wrap my head around it and say goodbye to my family."

Stockwell pinched his forehead. "It's not like you're never going to see them again. You can also take them with you, you know. You shouldn't be hurting for money."

The accountant didn't like the idea of bringing his family to a city infested with undead. "No, I think it's best that they stay here. You know how it is, the misses will get upset about having to move all of our things, and my boy is just now at that age where he's made his first friends. It would really break his heart to have to—"

"—Yeah yeah, I get it…" Stockwell waved his hand.

Stockwell had hired the accountant simply because he was the best candidate for the job. It would be a lot of work to try and find someone who could fill his shoes so he didn't want to cut him loose if he could help it.

He sighed. "... I'll cut you a little slack since the markets over there won't be active for a while. Just make sure you're set back up over there before they do. I'd wager you have about two months to make your peace."

The accountant bowed low in his seat. "...yes sir."

"Oh, and you know that guy on the payroll who does all our large shipments?"

The accountant nodded.

"I just gave him a 20% raise

"Wait, did you really?"

"Yes."

The accountant closed his eyes and sighed. "...Wesley."

His boss had a habit of throwing out raises left and right and ruining his perfectly calculated reports.

He sometimes wondered if there were moments where his boss actually forgot that accounting is done with ink, paper, and an abacus, since it always seemed that Stockwell vastly overestimated exactly how fast data could be organized and communicated.

And this was the truth. Stockwell did indeed forget every so often that accounting couldn't be done with computers in the New World. He simply went ahead with his bold and unpredictable business plans and often overburdened his accountants without even realizing it.

"...I'll update the payroll then..." The accountant frowned and got back to work. Because even with all of the unique challenges that came with working for the Gray Wolf, it was still way, way worth it. The man was rumored to pay his employees supremely well compared to other employers, and that was something all the accountants could attest to.

Stockwell gave the accountant a polite nod and proceeded into the next room.

This was the office that he himself used when performing administrative duties in E-Pespel.

And despite being the head of the company, It was actually smaller than the other office that the accountant used. He had had no shortage of visitors and business associates question him on that.

It was simply small because he wished it to be. He quite liked the closeness of the walls and had considered himself a claustrophile for all his life.

He assumed that was because all his life he had worked in small spaces, be it his cramped apartment as a child and young adult or the personal laboratories he worked in as he got older.

He sat down at his desk.

He had a terrible headache.

What wouldn't I give for just a half dose of medbots?

He leaned back in his chair. What was it that people used for headaches back in the old days? Anti-inflammatory oral tablets right? The hell was it… I swear I learned about it in organic chemistry…

Remembrance flashed behind his eye. Ahh! Aspirin is what it was called. Acetylsalicylic acid… hmm… salicylic acid shouldn't be too difficult to make. I'll give it to Niven as a side project for him.

He sighed. Part of the reason for his headache was that he was growing weary of money.

He threw his coin satchel onto the desk.

That's not to say he was growing weary of being wealthy, far from it. Personal wealth was an extraordinarily useful and convenient power to have at his disposal. He wouldn't dare part with it for as long as he lived.

He was simply growing weary of having to carry it everywhere. Or more precisely, he just kept finding more and more reasons to loathe the New World's system of currency.

He spilled the coins onto his desk. 20 coppers per silver, 100 silvers per gold, 10 gold per platinum… Oh commodity money… whenever shall you die?

It had taken humans thousands of years on his planet to figure out how to escape the commodity money ceiling. To Stockwell, metals were just metals who's value was determined only by the merit of their technological applications. It was a similar sentiment he shared with the rest of his generation. After all, everyone growing up in the 21st and 22nd century had accepted that digits on a computer screen had value.

It was particularly frustrating for him because he could see clearly how a simple currency reform in the New World would make everything so much easier.

Centralized banking, standardized bank notes, fractional reserve banking…

He thought that so long as the world was tied to the naive idea that copper, silver, gold, and platinum had intrinsic value beyond their industrial applications, a true forward march in progress would never be possible.

But… it didn't really matter too much. It just bugged him is all. As though he were watching a stranger from a distance continually failing at a simple task and being unable to show them the correct way to do it.

He had supposed in the past that once he had taken control of the Re-Estize kingdom, that he'd reform the economy using all of humanity's accumulated knowledge up to the 22nd century. With Re-Estize's abundance of natural resources, it could easily trounce its neighbors in economic power if it just utilized its advantages properly.

But that ship had long since sailed. He knew that taking Re-Estize was impossible at this point. He'd need to try elsewhere.

I wonder what Ainz Ooal Gown will do with the Sorcerer Kingdom…

He understood that the Sorcerer King was likely a "player", who possessed knowledge beyond the New World, so everything else aside, Stockwell was just innocently curious as to how the monster intended to implement economic policy reform. Perhaps he would do something completely beyond the economic philosophies of 2138 Earth or maybe even nothing at all.

He closed his eyes.

Demiurge, Gown, Renner, Raeven, the Royal and Noble Factions, Eight-Fingers...

He felt himself growing weary of the Re-Estize Kingdom in general.

The damn place is more trouble than it's worth… Better just to cut the losses and find a place from where we can safely watch the fallout.

He rubbed his forehead. I need a vacation…

He caught a few minutes of rest before someone entered the office.

"Wesley?"

He opened one eye to see a woman standing over him. He yawned. "Vera. You're back early. What happened? A worker fell into a vat of liquid and now we have to fish him out?"

She shook her head. "What? No, we got—"

"—Oh, I know. Renner's running low on human souls and is getting peckish and is asking if I could part with mine. Tell her sorry, I've got none left to spare."

"Uhhh..."

"Oooooh, wait, I know what it is. The Dark Warrior Momon wants to play catch with me while discussing the finer points of choosing armor based solely on color pallets. Hmm… I don't see a reason to deny him..."

Vera frowned. "Um, no." She revealed a letter from underneath her cloak. "We got word back from the Slane Theocracy."

Stockwell shook the sleep out of his head. His fun was over. "They certainly didn't take too long to think about it."

He stretched his neck and cracked his knuckles. "What did they say?"

She handed him the letter. "See for yourself."

Stockwell took one glance at it before looking back up at Vera with an impudent look in his eyes.

She recoiled. "What?"

"You do know I can't read this, right? Did you just assume I had you pen the message to them simply because I couldn't be bothered to do it myself?"

"O-Oh! Right."

She quickly took back the letter and tried to regain her composure. She cleared her throat. "Ahem… Dear Rhamnusia, —Uh, do you want me to read the whole thing?"

"Please."

She nodded.

"Dear Rhamnusia,

While we appreciate your concern regarding the Sorcerer King, we feel that there is no need for our two parties to meet in person to discuss the matter any further. We assure you that we have the situation well under control.

Furthermore, we regret to inform you that the Slane Theocracy works only for the interests of mankind. And that as a demon, we can not be certain that your interests are those that align with ours.

And while this is not an attack against you personally, we would also like to take the opportunity to inform you that as an enemy of mankind, you will be attacked on sight by our operatives should you find yourself crossing into territory under the protection of the Slane Theocracy. Accidental or otherwise.

For your own safety, we do not suggest testing the validity of our statement. Our operatives take their service to the Six Great Gods very seriously.

We wish you luck in your conflict against Ainz Ooal Gown.

May the waters of clarity bless you,

Ginedine Delan Guelfi, Cardinal of Water."

Vera concluded.

Stockwell thought over it for a brief moment. "So basically, they're telling us to fuck off."

Vera shrugged. "I can't say I'm surprised. Rhamnusia's reputation as a demon disqualifies you immediately."

"Fair enough." Stockwell said. "But our message wouldn't have carried any weight without Rhamnusia's name behind it. Going the friendly human route to ingratiate ourselves with them would take far too long.

He stretched out his arms and legs. "But yes, I'm not surprised either."

"So what do we do then?" Vera asked. "We don't have the power to just barge into the capital and make them cooperate by force."

Stockwell stood up from his seat. "Of course not, we just simply have to annoy them a bit. Twist their arm in a sense. Start making them wish that they'd much rather have us on their side than on their enemy's."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Vera, that we're going to take a little vacation." He smiled softly and shook the last of the sleep from his body. "I've been dying to get a breath of fresh air and Faber's been begging to do a range test anyways, so really, we're killing three birds with one stone here. So as long as nothing screwy goes on on the Re-Estize front, we should be good to go."

He walked back out into the other room and Vera followed after him.

He alerted the accountant. "I'll be gone for about… hmmm… I don't know, maybe a month or so."

The accountant sighed. "Another one of your 'business ventures', sir?"

Stockwell smiled, "That's right. And I better find you in E-rantel when I get back."

The accountant nodded sadly. "...yes sir…"

…

They headed south, around and beyond the borders of the Slane Theocracy. With the new advancements they had just recently made, the journey did not take long.

...

The two of them trudged through the thick forest brush.

The sky above was gray and overcast and the temperature was cool as per usual with the winter climate, but the trees still maintained their green canopy. This region of the continent experienced temperate weather all year round, so the trees had evidently not adapted to shed their leaves with the changing seasons.

Vera walked ahead of him partly because her gear was less cumbersome and she could move faster, but mostly because she had magic that could scout for enemies.

And though Stockwell's fingers stood ready at his rifle, he was not all too worried about the situation.

They had seen the smoke plumes of the raging war between the elves and Theocracy from the air earlier. From the way the smoke plumes were small and spread out around what appeared to be a village, it was clear that the conflicts in this area were mostly squad on squad guerilla engagements in the forest and not organized lines of soldiers waging open war in a field.

It gave them confidence to know that they would not be walking in on an armed conflict were they would be forced to fight hundreds of enemies all at once.

Stockwell glanced at his compass. "Anything coming up yet on your magic?"

Vera stopped and outstretched her hands. "… Maybe a little. But the only real mass of conductive material I'm sensing nearby is coming from you."

Stockwell looked back down at the compass. He watched the needle sway as Vera was casting her magic. "So either we still have a ways to go or the elves and the Theocracy aren't keen on wearing much armor."

"...hmm..." Vera focused. "I think it might be a little of both. It's faint but I'm definitely sensing something up ahead."

"How much further?"

"A hundred meters? Two hundred meters? Hard to say."

"I see. We should prepare ourselves then."

Vera nodded and they continued marching through the forest.

Stockwell's heavy boots squished into the mud as he navigated the low hanging branches and wet mats of leaves.

He was in full combat gear.

His gasmask sat securely on his face and his large spider limb attachments were poised above his shoulders. His form was dark and titanic, every exposed surface of his gear was coated with acid and flame resistant chemicals. His back looked to bulged as though he were wearing a turtle shell that protected his various back worn armaments. Multiple appendages and antennas sprouted from his back and rose above his head.

He swept his halberd-limb ahead of him like a machete to clear the brush as he marched. It was good practice, and he felt he was getting better at moving the limb.

...

They only got a little bit further before Vera signaled them to stop.

"What is it?"

She focused her magic. Her voice went down to a whisper. "Get down… I'm sensing a lot of small metal objects just up ahead."

They crouched down. Stockwell scanned the forest. "Arrow heads?"

"I think so."

"How far?"

"Only a few dozen meters. They're not moving. I think they're waiting for us."

Stockwell pondered. "… an ambush then? How many people?"

"No clue. Five, maybe six, it's difficult to tell… there's a few swords spread among them too."

"You think they saw us from the air earlier?"

"Heard us, more likely."

Stockwell nodded in affirmative. "Then follow my lead and don't attack immediately. If it's the elves, then it would be problematic to accidentally kill one. And if it's the Theocracy, we should go for a capture."

"On it."

"Then let's do this."

They stood and continued forward.

They walked together seemingly unconcerned by the ambush.

The leaves rustled around them shortly afterward.

Three arrows sailed silently out of the forest toward Stockwell. Two from the canopy and one from the brush.

He did not bother dodging, there was no need for it.

All three arrows missed their mark by inches. They lodged into the mud around him.

He heard what sounded like someone crying in bewilderment from above.

Three more arrows shot at him seconds later and just like last time, all of them missed.

He heard the same voice once more. "What the hell!?"

More arrows rained down on both of them.

Vera caught the outline of one of the archers in the trees. Long protrusions sprouted from the side of their head. She could only assume that they were ears.

She looked at Stockwell. "They're elves."

"I see. Also their arrows look weak, don't bother redirecting them around me." He turned and addressed the trees above them. "It's futile gentlemen. Stand down, we're not your enemies."

The arrows began to relent, indeed, after only a few voiles the archers discovered that their bows were useless.

Vera's spell was an efficient one. The simple philosophy behind it was no matter how powerful an arrow was, it was harmless so long as it missed its mark. There was no need to do something flashy like completely stopping and repelling the arrows in mid air, that would take too much energy and be a waste of mana.

All she needed to do was alter the trajectory of the arrows by a few degrees. At their current distance, that slight change in angle was more than enough to throw the arrows off by more than a foot by the time they reached their intended target.

And as for the arrows that hit the man, they seemed to bounce harmlessly off whatever armor he was wearing beneath his dark coverings.

The brush parted ahead of them and a form rushed at Stockwell with a vicious warcry. A screaming elf covered in mud and leaves charged at him with reckless abandon.

He was startled for a second. Just a kid? Stockwell was surprised by the young voice and light frame of his attacker. The elf was covered head to toe in leaves and mud.

Vera's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Watch out!"

The elf in front of him was just a distraction. Two more elves rushed in from either side at the same moment. The archers had evidently given up on ranged attacks and had switched to a head on all or nothing strategy with swords and daggers.

One elf launched at Stockwell from the right and one at Vera from the left.

They had only a brief moment to analyze the situation. Stockwell caught the glint of steel approaching from the right and from the front and so came to the conclusion that the elves were wielding steel swords. He trusted Vera to protect him if his armor could not. They were still being cautious in this regard in case these elves possessed powerful martial arts.

He ignored the one coming from his side and set his rifle aside to intercept the enemy in front of him. The goal afterall, was not to kill any of them.

The elves' plan was to distract them in the front while attacking from the side. A tried and true strategy, but it fell to pieces if the enemy could detect it beforehand. Vera had already been producing a magnetic field to divert the arrowheads, so of course she had noticed the sudden movement of the comparatively large steel swords.

She trusted Stockwell to handle the enemy in the front and so took to handling the two enemies approaching each of them on either side.

The elves stepped into striking distance and as they thrusted, their swords curved away from their piercing attacks had turned into glancing blows as they skidded against Stockwell's and Vera's armor underneath.

Before they could recover from their confusion, Vera cast another spell. 「Magnetic Pull」

The swords were leveraged away from their hands and drawn to a point in space at Vera's feet. They stuck harmlessly into the ground.

「Twin Magic: Paralytic Bolt」

Two small motes of electricity flew from her fingers and collided with the two elves. It was a very weak spell so she knew it wouldn't kill, but it did have a one hundred percent chance to paralyze foes who failed to resist. Magic casters generally used it for incapacitating low level enemies for extended periods of time

The elves clenched up and tumbled into the soft mud before they could make a retreat.

As this was happening Stockwell was dealing with the elf charging him from the front.

Time slowed down as his brain adjusted to the combat. He watched cooly as the sword tip approached him.

The threat was nothing much. It would be even easier than catching Climb's blade.

Just as the elf got within arms distance to attack, Stockwell, instead of retreating or standing his ground, took a step forward and turned his body slightly. It was a simple but surprising maneuver his opponent was not expecting and thus his blade collided with Stockwell before he could get a chance to put the power of his arms into it. The sword skidded clumsily off the armor under Stockwells left armpit.

Then, Stockwell swept his foot into the elve's legs, playing into his attacker's momentum. The elf tripped and fell to the ground.

Overall, it was a textbook set of maneuvers used for countering an opponent charging from the front; actual martial arts, one might say. It didn't take much skill to pull off, simply confidence, and more importantly, an incompetent opponent.

Seeing this fiasco, it was evident that these were comparatively weak combatants and that they had been overly cautious for nothing.

Stockwell quickly turned to reaffirm his take down. He pressed his knee into the elf's back before he could get back up and pinned his sword down using his magnetic left hand.

He called to Vera without taking his eyes off the downed elf. "You good?"

"All good. I think there are a few more elves still hiding in the area, but they don't seem to be moving."

"Then keep watch."

"On it."

Stockwell spoke to the struggling elf. "Hey there, calm down, no need to struggle. I'll let you go once you relax. We're just here to talk."

The elfs reply was immediate and caustic. "Get the fuck off of me scum! Not here to hurt me!? Then get your knee out of my back!"

"You did just try to kill me. You can't blame a man for defending himself."

He examined the elf more closely.

The elf's form was dainty. His hips were wide and his waist was particularly slender. His voice was also young, like that of an effeminate teenage boy. It was difficult to tell because the elf was covered in a thick layer of mud and leaves, camouflage he assumed, but…

"Are you perchance… a woman? Or is the morphology of all elves particularly feminine?"

It was uncommon for the human countries of this world to field women on the front lines of battle unless they were exceptional as in the case of adventurers and magic casters, but perhaps it was different when it came to elves.

"Kill me now Slane trash! I won't be your slave!" She tossed and turned under Stockwell's weight but she ultimately could not break free.

His brows furrowed. "...What's a person like you doing here? Is it a cultural thing? Are the elves that desperate?"

Vera approached them. The two other elves fully succumbed to her paralysis spell and would not be able to move for a minute. "Need some help?"

"No. I got it."

Stockwell moved his shield-limb downward and pressed it into the elf's body. He was careful not to accidently crush her with, as the monstrous spider limb easily had the power to do so.

This freed up his hands.

He crouched down and patted the side of the elf's face which was turned down into the mud. "Hey there, you mind calming down so we could talk for a bit?"

She turned her head in a flash and bit at Stockwell's armored hand. She recoiled after her teeth bit down hard on the OTB plated stygilight beneath the proactive layer of acid resistant chemicals on his armored hand.

"F-Fuck! Fuck…"

Her voice quickly began to turn from enraged defiance into a trail of sobs. "Please let me go… I don't want to be a slave."

Stockwell and Vera exchanged glances. He turned back to the elf. "I should mention again, we're not your enemy. We haven't killed any of you. We just want to exchange some information so could you calm down for a bit?"

Her sobbing increased. She wouldn't hear any of her captor's words. She cried like a baby crying for her mother.

Stockwell and Vera exchanged another confused look.

As she was struggling, Stockwell closely examined her anatomy. Her ears were very, very long; approximately 15 centimeters from their base to their tip. But curiously, that was about the only thing that Stockwell could tell that distinguished her from a human.

The rest of her bodily proportions fit within the range of normal human anatomy, and her facial structure too looked to be the same as that of a homo sapien. Likewise, the pitch and timbre of her voice was typical of that of a homo sapien.

He had always heard people describe elves as not being human, but as far as he could tell, there wasn't anything important to differentiate the two. If an anthropologist were to dig up their bones a hundred thousand years from now, there was little reason doubt that they would also put elves within the genus homo. Genetic testing would likely lead to the same conclusion.

They might still be considered a different species than homo sapiens, but like homo neanderthalensis or homo heidelbergensis, they should still be considered a human species.

In other words, from a strict scientific and taxonomical standpoint, Stockwell's definition of human likely had to include elves.

Hmm. Seeing as I get to play Linnaeus, what would be a good name? Homo Elfensis? Homo Sylvanis because they live in forests? Or what about Homo Faeriensis because of their association with fantasy and fairy tales? Mmm. I like that last one.

As he pondered, Vera broke his thoughts.

"Hold on, trade places with me." Vera said. "The rest of the elves are coming."

Vera took control of the elf and Stockwell stood up, ready to intercept possible attacks

Three more forms appeared from the brush. Like Vera had said, it was the rest of the elves that had been waiting in ambush for them. They evidently had been watching the whole ordeal, since their bows were not raised and showed no signs of attacking them.

One of them spoke. "Millie, it's okay, they're not with the Theocracy."

The woman ceased her struggles and turned in response to the voice. "B-But…"

"You will let her go, yes?" The elf asked Stockwell.

Stockwell nodded to Vera and she released her. She immediately bolted to a place behind her allies the moment she was able. They began to examine her for injuries.

The elf continued, "And what about them? Will they be okay?" He gestured to the two elves paralyzed on the ground.

"They should be…" Stockwell looked to Vera for confirmation. She nodded. He continued. "Yes, they should be fine. The paralysis is only temporary, so please don't hold it against us. We were just practicing self-defense after you attacked us."

The elves seemed to collectively sigh in relief.

Stockwell made a small gesture indicating that it was okay to retrieve the two paralyzed elves and so they did.

The elf that Stockwell could only assume to be the leader of their little squad of seven continued. "You two are not from the Theocracy, what business do you have here? And… who are you even?"

The elf looked over the two's ghastly appearances. The elf thought that there was no way the two could possibly be friendly, but their actions thus far haven't been completely hostile, considering that they were the ones who were ambushed.

The elf retreated into thought. He and the others were just basic soldiers and did not possess any magic or advanced martial arts. Judging from what they had seen of them so far, they could not hope to overpower the two strangers if the worst were to pass, so opening a dialogue was obviously the best option.

Stockwell flexed his hands and stretched the tension out of his muscles. He stood tall and Vera retreated behind him. "I'm Rhamnusia and this Calico."

The elves showed no signs of recognition.

That wasn't unexpected, Stockwell reasoned. These individuals had likely been engaged in combat for years on the frontline. It was unlikely that news of Rhamnusia or even Ainz Ooal Gown had reached their ears.

"We have no quarrel with the elf country." He said. "We are here merely to disrupt the Slane Theocracy's interests here. When we were flying over the forest much of the terrain was obscured by the canopy and we could only see the general area of combat. So would you mind kindly pointing us in the direction of the enemy?"

The elf squad leader pondered for a moment. "You say your enemies of the Theocracy? And that you want to know their location so you can fight them?"

"Yes, is that strange?"

He pondered for a little longer.

It was abundantly clear that the two people before him were not normal. Afterall, the information they had received was that they had flown in on a flying beast from behind their frontline and would likely be approaching from this corner of the forest. They had considered that it was possible that the Theocracy was now suddenly employing the use of tamed griffins which would not normally be effective in a forested environment.

Their little squad was all that the organizers could spare at the moment to investigate the situation.

Normally, now having met with the two powerful strangers who had appeared in the middle of the warzone, he would have to send them in the direction of headquarters to speak with the higher ups since they were claiming to be allies.

However, it was possible that this "Rhamnusia and Claico" were lying through their teeth and were attempting to engage in some kind of espionage in favor of the Theocracy, in which case, the worst thing he could possibly do is give them the location of their headquarters. If something bad were to happen because of it, he would be the one blamed for ultimately letting spies into their midst.

Luckily, Rhamnusia had not actually asked to create an alliance with them, and only asked to know were the Theocracy's was located, in which case it was fine to tell him since that is information a spy would already know. It made deciding what to do next much easier.

He turned to one of the elves behind him. "Graon, report back to base camp immediately and tell them what's happened here. Tell them I'm leading the two of them to the interception point personally."

In other words, he was complying with Rhamnusia's request under the pretext that he would be keeping a close eye on them so that he could more clearly ascertain what side they truly fought for.

He continued. "Ellros, Millie, stay here with Sonetty and Lalaruck until they recover from their paralysis. After that, return to base camp. Hatyr, you're with me."

They nodded in affirmative and broke apart.

...

Their guide, who introduced himself as Lieutenant Potema Leaten Dondter, led them through the forest.

They heard the sounds of skirmishes ahead. Metal clinking against metal, elves and men launching battle cries, dozens of bodies moving through the forest ahead.

Potema seemed panicked when they neared close enough to hear these sounds "We're too late. This village should've been evacuated sooner."

The trail was beginning to open up and the makings of a village could be seen.

The village consisted of strange dwellings made out of the very trees themselves, as though they had been grown into specific shapes to suit their inhabitants' needs. Systems of walkways and bridges spanned the canopy over a large clearing below.

Secondary structures made of differing types of foliage were also built into these walkways, and various vine-like ladders descended to the forest floor.

There were several bodies littering the clearing and hanging lifelessly from branches.

"This is an elf village? I looks like a jungle gym."

They could see fighting taking place among the walkways between elves and what Stockwell could only assume were soldiers of the Slane Theocracy.

Stockwell spoke to Vera over his shoulder. "Fly above the trees for a while and radio me if you see any potential threats coming."

"Got it."

She floated upwards and disappeared beyond the canopy.

"Hey, where is she going?"

Stockwell ignored the question. "We'll take it from here."

"You will?"

"Yes, we will. And I'll make sure to say this in a way you can understand." Stockwell said. "I probably won't have to, but I may end up casting an area of effect spell at some point that will make the air poisonous to breathe. All you have to do to make sure you don't get caught up as collateral damage is avoid the yellow fog."

"Yellow fog?"

"Yes, if you see yellow fog, just run away. There's nothing to be done about it. We clear?"

"Understood."

"Great. Now I'll be taking the lead here. It's probably best if you don't get involved. Just sit back for now."

Stockwell simply walked into the clearing without breaking his stride.

Potema shouted after him "Hey are you just going to waltz out there—!?"

Based on what Stockwell could see happening in the village above, neither the soldiers from the Slane Theocracy nor the elves possessed magic, nor did either side possess combatants capable of using powerful martial arts.

That is to say, everyone here looks weaker than even Climb. After all of his battles, Stockwell felt like he was beginning to better intuit the strength of opponents. Though he had little clue as to how Climb had become the benchmark for weakness in the back of his mind.

No one here should pose a threat.

Likewise, there only seemed to be a couple dozen combatants from the Slane Theocracy. This was likely a raiding party sent to destroy this village. And based on what he saw, the villagers seemed to mostly be dead at this point, with only a few elf combatants mounting a resistance in a few barricaded structures and controlled walkways.

He heard rustling in the foliage around him.

Let's take care of the ground level first.

He heard a clink and felt a small thud on his lower back. Something had collided with his armor from behind.

He turned to see a human peeking out of cover and holding a weapon in his hand.

A crossbow?

It was undeniably a crossbow. Stockwell looked at the crossbow bolt that had clattered to the mud behind him, unable to pierce his armor.

That's the first time I've seen one of those in this world. Looks to be fairly low poundage. I suppose what they say about the Slane Theocracy is right, they're the most advanced and developed nation in the area.

The soldier who had just shot at him had a dumbfounded expression on his face, and Stockwell could feel him tense up when he turned to look at him through his gas mask.

The soldier quickly tried to dive back into cover but was far too late.

Sorry buddy. I'll try to minimize my damage to your people here, we're ultimately on the same side, afterall.

Stockwell took up his rifle and fired a short burst of automatic fire into the brush.

Ratatatata—

He heard the man scream before going quiet, followed by several more vocalizations from the brush on either side of him.

Scary demon time it is…

Stockwell mustered his heaviest tone, and imagined what he wished to sound like in accordance with the voice changer enchantment on his mask.

He shouted evilly into the foliage. "Ha ha ha! Rhamnusia is here! Run while you still can, theocrats!"

He heard shuffling and immediately fired another burst of automatic fire towards it. Another series of pained screams followed by shouts occurred in response.

Two more crossbow bolts bounced off his armor and clattered lifelessly into the mud.

"Ha ha ha! Powerless!"

Ratatatatatata—

He swept his rifle around and scattered shots into the forest.

The soldiers hiding in the brush shouted in confusion and fled deeper into the forest.

Good.

Stockwell's immediate goal here wasn't to kill people. He just wanted to make a splash and hoped that those soldiers would run back to their superiors and inform them of a monster named Rhamnusia's sudden appearance.

「Fire Bolt」

Stockwell felt a sudden force collide with him from above and his field of vision briefly filled with flames. Compared to the force and heat that was delivered by the spell 「Fireball」 this was nothing. He was well insulated and his gear was fireproof.

He looked upwards to see a human standing on the walkways. His hand began to glow.

「Fire Bolt」

Stockwell raised his shield-limb to intercept the spell. The mote of flame harmlessly disabated against the surface of his large, mobile wall of metal.

Who would've guessed, someone here can use magic after all. Looks like the Theocracy has a lot of magic casters too if they're integrating them with normal soldiers. Sadly, it's not enough.

More human soldiers appeared on the walkway and began to rain down arrows and crossbow bolts on him. "What the hell is that monster!?" One of them shouted.

Their weapons bounced harmlessly off his shield.

Stockwell could probably gun them all down from where he was on the ground, but he wanted to take a slow approach to this in order to appear more menacing. Also, he didn't want to use ammunition if he didn't need to.

He psychically actuated a couple of devices.

Immediately, a small, lunchbox sized compartment opened from his back and ejected a parachute above his head.

The parachute was gossamer thin and made of woven spider silk, as it was the only material with a high enough tensile strength to support his weight while still being thin enough to fold into the relatively small compartment.

「Ring of Magic Bound: Gust」

In the same moment, Stockwell activated one of the magic items he had taken from Brain back in the Re-Estize capital. It was a ring capable of storing up to two 1st tier spells or one 2nd tier spell that could be released later at a moments notice.

He stretched his hand upward into the parachute.

The spell, 「Gust」 like all other forms of tier magic, did not follow Newton's third law of motion that stated that for every action there was an equal and opposite reaction. That is to say, if someone launched a spell like 「Fireball」 or 「Acid Javelin」, the caster wouldn't be propelled in the opposite direction.

So that being the case, there was nothing stopping him from literally lifting himself up by his bootstraps.

A torrent of wind emitted from Stockwell's hand and billowed into the parachute. He was rapidly carried into the canopy.

Eat your heart out Issac Newton

He used the ethanol thrusters on his arms and legs to help guide his path through the air while he moved his shield-limb to continue to block the soldiers' attacks.

This entire maneuver required many complicated psychic inputs from his 「Ring of Meager Telekinesis」 in order to activate all of his devices at the right time.

Earlier in life, he had wondered how an organist could possibly be able to play complex pieces with all of their fingers and feet engaged in different lines of music. But now having practiced with his gear, he couldn't help but marvel at how adept the human brain could be with these kinds of things given enough practice. Using his gear felt like he was conducting a symphony sprawled out over all the facets of his body.

The human brain really is remarkable.

"He can fly!?"

At the zenith of his ascent Stockwell turned his hand downwards to blast the soldiers with the last of his 「Gust」 before landing on the walkway. Several of them, including the magic caster, lost their footing and fell to the clearing below.

The parachute trailing behind him automatically began to refold itself and package itself back into its compartment. It had an enchantment on it called 「Self Making Bed」, which as the name implied, was used primarily on the blankets and bed sheets of wealthy nobles so that they would automatically make the bed after use. It was easy enough for Galdur to simply place the enchantment on the parachute and calibrate it so that the parachute automatically folded itself back into its compartment.

The living-wood panels of the walkway creaked underneath his weight as he landed.

"Rhamnusia has come for you. Flee now while you can." Stockwell said.

"Get him!"

The soldiers were clearly terrified of him, but did not retreat. Stockwell wondered if this was because they were extremely loyal to their cause or if it was simply because it wasn't easy to retreat from the narrow walkway suspended two dozen meters above forest floor.

The soldiers approached him in double file from both sides. None of them wore much armor and they were wielding hatchets, maces, and gently curved short swords reminiscent of kukris.

Using his halberd-limb here would be overkill, as well as practically any of his other armaments, nor should he need potions for this.

He wrapped his shield-limb behind him and solidified it into a solid wall for those approaching him from behind. For the ones in front, the greatest mercy he could show them was taking them out with just his fists.

He activated his ethanol thrusters. A deafeningly high pitch whine filled the air as his fist rocketed into the first man's lower gut. The man buckled as the fist, powered up by both the thruster and the Zero's 「Arm Bands of the Beast king」, forced the air from his chest and the feces from his colon.

As he did so, the second soldier struck at his left side, but the blade was easily repelled by the armor beneath his cloak and all stockwell felt was a dull thud from the impact. Stockwell sent him a thruster propelled backhand that knocked him off the walkway and sent him tumbling into the clearing below.

He followed up again with another fist to the next soldier's gut as the soldier's behind him attacked his solidified shield in vain.

"Useless!" Stockwell shouted.

As he marched down the walkway, the soldiers seemed to have finally decided to commit to a retreat.

"We can't beat this monster!"

"Retreat!"

The soldiers on either side of the walk way scrambled to flee. They nearly tripped over each other as they did so, quickly making their way down the various ladders and ropes that descended to the ground.

Stockwell did not run after them, only maintaining a slow march.

He saw the soldiers retrieve their fallen comrades off the ground and drag them into the forest. While they did so, a few of the elves who had just been engaged with them fired arrows at their backs while hurling taunts.

He also caught the form of Potema, who had been hiding down below, shooting an arrow through the nape of a retreating soldier.

Well that seemed to do the trick.

Stockwell shook his knuckles and flexed the tension out of his fingers. He glanced at the gauges on his thrusters. They had only been engaged for a combined total of a few seconds at most, and were still at nearly full pressure. Stockwell was relieved that everything seemed to be working correctly.

The other barricaded elves cautiously came out from their fortifications upon seeing the soldiers flee.

Stockwell caught their cautious gazes. They seemed hesitant to speak to him.

He paid them no heed.

He unclipped his radio and flipped a switch. "Did you see anything interesting from up there? Over."

Vera's voice came from the other side, emerging from a soft static. "Nope, nothing out of the ordinary. By the way, you were laying the act on pretty thick. You would've gotten a better reaction had you'd stayed silent the whole time. It's more menacing that way… hmm… Actually, maybe not. The way you usually talk during combat is pretty creepy by itself. Over."

"Wait what? What's creepy about the way I normally talk?... over."

"You know. A little more unhinged …sort of… I don't know exactly. It's sort of like how you go about talking to your opponent as if they're one of your dire rats on the dissection table. Do that, it's way scarier…over."

"I see…" Stockwell blinked with a small amount of bewilderment. "Duly noted. I'll certainly keep that in mind. Just continue to stay up there and keep an eye out for now. Over."

"Roger that. Over."

"Over and out."

Stockwell clipped the radio back into place beneath his cloak.

Potema, their elf guide, called up from the ground.

"Rhamnusia! That was amazing!"

Stockwell released his parachute and glided back down to the forest floor.

"Mm. It wasn't much." He replied. "Are the soldiers you encounter normally that strong?"

Potema nodded. "Yes, usually. The job of my squad is to intercept and repel guerilla attacks made by the enemy. The Theocracy employs these kinds of raids often, attacking villages that are situated beyond the path of their main army."

It seemed to Stockwell that Potema was opening up to him now that he had fought off the Theocracy soldiers.

"So there is a main army then?" Stockwell asked.

"Yes." The elf nodded. "I don't know their exact numbers, my squad doesn't work on that front. All I know is that they've cleared a road straight through the Sea of Trees to about 50 kilometers from the capital by now."

Their eyes fell on the few remaining elven villagers and fighters. They had begun the process of removing the bodies of their people from the trees. They constantly looked in their direction with tentative gazes, but no one dared to approach.

It seemed that they had acknowledged him as not being a threat because of his ongoing conversation with Potema and of course, the fact that he had repealed the enemy that was just sacking their village.

Potema continued as he watched this. He had a bitter expression. "They use raids like this to collect slaves. We can often hear the cries of children in the distance as they're dragged off into the distance."

Potema looked around at the village. "It seems we were still too late. I didn't see them retreat with any elves, they must have already taken slaves before we got here…"

One of the elves who had been fighting on the walkways earlier approached them. It seems someone finally had the initiative to ask.

"Who are you… and, who are you?" He asked.

"Lieutenant Potema Leaten Dondter." Potema said. "I'm with Moss company under Marshall Lajunct."

The fighter gave him a firm nod. "I'm Alok, I…" He trailed off. "I was in charge of protecting this place."

Alok emitted a pained and defeated sigh. "They managed to take out our scout without alarming anyone. We thought she could handle herself, she was a very skilled ranger after all. Best I knew, actually. I can't belive filth of that caliber managed to take her out. But apparently even she wasn't good enough. We were caught off guard against their ambush."

"I understand." Potema replied. "It's partially our fault for not getting here sooner. We knew this area had a high potential for a raid."

"So who are…" Alok trailed off as he looked over at Stockwell.

"Rhamnusia." Stockwell replied. "I'm here to help."

Potema nodded in confirmation. "We met him not even a half hour ago."

"More precisely," Stockwell continued, "I'm here to thoroughly piss off the Theocracy."

"...Right."

Stockwell looked around at the village.

"So seeing that the problem here is taken care of, lieutenant," Stockwell clasped his hands together. "Where to next?"

Potema pointed into the forest. "If you're looking for the Theocracy's main army, you'll want to head east north east of here. If you're looking to intercept a potential raid…" Potem turned to Alok.

Alok pointed in a different direction in the forest. "There's a sister village to this one. It's about 5 kilometers south of here."

Potem nodded. "So there you have it. However, Rhamnusia," he continued, "If you really want to help our cause, I suggest you get in contact with the military. They'd be able to direct you to where you're needed most. I can put in a word to Marshall Lajunct, but I'm afraid I can't lead you back to our base camp. At least not for now."

"Hmph. I see." Stockwell said. "Give me a moment to think."

Potema exchanged a glance with Alok. "Also, I feel like I should warn you." Potema said.

"Warn me about what?" Stockwell asked.

"You asked earlier if the soldiers you just drove off were normally the strength I encountered. While yes, that's true, those are the ones that I normally encounter, I am aware that the Theocracy also possess fighters much stronger than that."

"So you say." Stockwell replied.

"Yes." Potema said. "They say they wear a small emblem of a flame, and that they're much stronger than the average soldier. Stealthier too. I'm afraid I don't know much about them. We have specialized squads capable of countering them, but I myself am not privy to that specific information."

Stockwell listened along. "Alright. So what you're saying is that I should be on the lookout for some tougher opponents."

"Yes." Potema said. "Once word gets out that someone like yourself is here, there's probably a good chance you'll run into them. In fact—"

Potema turned to Alok. "You should probably evacuate the rest of this village. It likely isn't safe here anymore."

"Understood." He turned and left.

"So what is then, Rhamnusia?" Potema asked. "What is it you intend to do now?"

"Well let's see…" Stockwell retreated into thought.

Based on what he said, it might be better to just go straight for the main army core. If they're mostly weak soldiers, then a gas attack would be trivially easy to decimate them, but… that might be a little too quick of an escalation.

The entire reason Stockwell was here was to twist the arm of the Theocray's government. He didn't want to outright paint himself as a demonic enemy of mankind. He needed to start small and slowly escalate from there. Of course, he also intended to try and contact the members of the Theocracy's Supreme Executive Council individually to see if he can't get some more dialogues opened.

Even if the decision of the council was to not meet with him, he figured at least one or two of them might be curious enough to risk meeting with him. He was confident that if he could just get with them and sit down for a discussion, he could convince them of his value and his earnest intentions.

The point was to pursue as many lines of action as possible. He needed to integrate into himself the Slane Theocracy's inner workings as soon as possible; he didn't know how much time Ainz Ooal Gown was willing to give him.

It was a delicate balancing act of annoying the Theocracy into action whilst not severely damaging the people he eventually hoped to turn into his allies.

As he was thinking over his next move, he heard static coming from his radio.

Vera's muffled voice came from beneath his cloak. "...I think I sense something."

He briefly turned from Potema. "Sorry, could you give me a moment?"

Stockwell walked a small distance away and pulled out his radio. He flipped a switch. "Yes hello? You said you noticed something? Over."

"Yes." Vera's voice sounded like she was in deep concentration. "I'm pretty sure something is approaching. Multiple somethings."

Stockwell listened to her voice carefully. "I can feel some conductive material, It's very close. I'm a little too high up to get a bead on it. But I think it might already be near you… over."

At Vera's warning, Stockwell began to look around.

Things seemed strangely quiet all of sudden.

The sounds of elves once going about collecting their dead and chatting had ceased. All he heard was the wind rustling through the leaves. In fact, few though they had been, he didn't see any of the elves.

He heard rustling in the thicket behind him, but when he turned to look, the rustling had stopped.

He turned to Potema.

Potema wasn't standing where he was before.

Where did the lieutenant go?

Stockwell's eyes continued to look for him but Potema was nowhere to be found. He looked upwards and thought he saw what looked to be Alok.

His body was hanging motionless from a rung in one of the vine ladders that led to the walkaways above.

He heard another sudden rustle from the bushes. He turned to see the leaves still recoiling from a sudden movement, as though someone had just been there and fled. Peeking from beneath the bush was the lower half of Potema's body, motionless.

There!

His hand immediately went to the radio to inform Vera. "An enemy is here, they're hiding—"

—Stockwell saw bright lights appear around him from the foliage.

「Maximize Magic: Paralytic Bolt」

「Triplet Maximize Magic: Magic Arrow」

「Triplet Magic: Fire lash」

「Quicken magic: Open wounds」

「Boost Magic: Slow」

「Quicken Magic: Ensnare」

「Maximize Magic: Magic Arrow」

It was a sudden, violent deluge of spells released in unison from the surrounding thicket: A large bolt of crackling electricity, four large glowing arrows, three tendrils of flames, a spell that compounded his injuries, a psychic wave the disoriented, and a long glowing tendril that shot towards his legs.

They converged on his location simultaneously.

The electricity was redirected into his antenna and ran aground. Everything else connected.

Stockwell felt several large impacts against his body from multiple directions. The magical arrows could not penetrate his armor, in fact, the hard OTB surface of his armor was likely spotless. However due to the magical nature of the arrows, a small portion of the damage still transferred through to Stockwell's body. He felt three sharp stabs in his chest that forced the air from his lungs and one from behind that stabbed into his lower back.

Three tendrils of flame accosted him from the left. He could feel the impact of them against his side and could feel their latent heat from within his mask, but it was not hot enough to pose him a danger yet with just an instantaneous exposure. The force they transmitted to him was not too great either and with his titanic shield-limb on his right side, it failed to knock him off balance.

Then came a sudden wave of pain. The stabbing he felt from his back and chest suddenly multiped in intensity, like the flesh around those areas had ripped apart. Stockwell lost strength in his core and he hunched over at the abdomen.

He then had a sudden lapse of focus and the world around seemed to blur together, moving faster than normal while a glowing, magical rope wrapped around his ankles like a boa constrictor.

Stockwell buckled.

It was a formidable ambush.

Through his blurred and lagged perception he saw the form of two humans in front of him, their invisibility fading from the release of their spells. One of them was dashing toward him with a drawn sword. And based on the number of impacts he felt and the multiple directions they came from, there were probably several more attackers rushing at him from his blind spots.

But I'm still conscious!

He wondered why anyone on this planet would ever forgo wearing armor. He would've just been killed many times over without it.

He activated his potion dispensers within his mask. He sucked in a large puff of concentrated healing and concentrated haste through his nose.

The slowness effect plaguing his mind was counteracted by the haste, and then some. His perception of the world gained immediate clarity as his vision unblurred and the passage of time crawled to 1/10 speed.

As for the health potion he inhaled, the dispenser had been calibrated to eject exactly 31.4 RHC into his mask, also known as his health point maximum; an amount that was capable of bringing him from the very threshold of death to perfect condition in the span of a single breath. Doubly so when the potion was metabolized faster thanks to the effects of the haste potion.

He had a total of 298 RHC worth of concentrated red healing potion at his disposal; in other words, so long as he didn't die in one hit he effectively had 9 and a half health bars the enemy would be forced to chew through.

The gauges in his peripheral vision that correlated to his potion supply dropped by a fraction. The pains in his body evaporated in an instant and he got to one knee.

With the haste enhancing his mind, he noticed the magical rope closing around his ankles.

He commanded his halberd-limb to stab into the space between his feet. Luckily, he was fast enough with his command so that the snare had yet to fully enclose. The halberd-limb easily had the power and sharpness to cut the rope apart.

Let's see who we're dealing with.

He had another half second of haste remaining.

He forced strength into his legs, and, utilizing all four of his thrusters and kicking his spider limbs off the ground, he jumped and spun 360 degrees were he stood. With his heightened senses, he saw the forms of each of his assailants as he took in the shifting 360 degree view.

There were six of them, all taking positions equidistant around him.

Despite all of them clearly being able to cast magic to some degree, they also looked to each have different roles and specialties, as each of them was wearing slightly different armor and had different weapons.

Four of them were wearing light armor, while the other two looked to be wearing much heavier armor. One had a long sword, one had a pair of tomahawks, one had a shortsword, one had a mace, one had a crossbow, and one had a short bow.

Additionally, each of them was also covered head to toe in thick camouflage. Their various pieces of clothing and armor were caked in a thick layer of mud and leaves and their faces were obscured with plant matter.

The four of them with melee weapons were dashing towards him from the cardinal directions, while the two with ranged weapons looked to be either preparing for another shot or preparing another spell.

First order of business, cover my ass.

He psychically actuated a canister on his chest. He didn't intend to drown the forest in poison, only put up a brief hazard, and as such he only released one canister. A potent cocktail of lewisite vapor and chlorine gas burst from beneath him in a brown-yellow vomit colored cloud. The phase change of highly compressed liquid being allowed to expand rapidly plummeted the surrounding temperature, and he was somewhat thankful for the earlier fire spell as the ambient help would help the lewisite stay as a volatile vapor.

Lewisite was a vicious chemical agent, being able to penetrate most clothing and sting the skin immediately upon contact unlike simple chlorine gas or slow acting mustard gasses. It was also extremely toxic in the long run, as it introduced arsenic into the bodies of those who inhaled it.

Stockwell's mind briefly recoiled as his haste ran its course but he was prepared for it and had already practiced the kind of mental commands he needed to give in order to continue to move correctly.

Leaving behind the cloud of gas in his wake, he sprinted towards the opponent in front of him who was hanging back and looked to be readying another spell. He heard the sounds of a pair of surprised gasps from behind followed by choking.

These opponents were doubtlessly powerful, and he wanted to take as many alive as he could in order to measure their bodily metrics and to question them for information. That being said, taking them all out without killing any of them was likely untenable. But at the very least, he'd try not to kill opponents out right if the opportunity presented itself.

The swordsman in the front noticed his sudden approach and doubled back to defend their ally.

Stockwell reached the magic caster who looked to still be in deep concentration and attacked them with his halberd-limb.

The swordsman stepped in to defend them.

「Heavy Fortress」

The halberd slammed into the raised blade of the swordsman's long sword. The power of the spider limb was monstrous, but the swordsman successfully stopped the attack. The steel of the swordsman's long sword squeaked as the OTB edge of the halberd bit into the metal. The power of the spider limb forced the swordsman's feet a few centimeters deep into the mud, but the soldier held stalwart with the aid of their martial art.

Stockwell took up his rifle and shot the swordsman at point blank range with a stream of automatic fire. Afterall, the advantage of having the two spider limbs was that both of his own hands were free.

Ratatatata—

「Shield of Faith」

As the bullets exited his gun, a bright translucent barrier of gold colored light appeared in front of the swordsman. The bullets managed to penetrate the barrier along with armor of the swordsman, but it was evident that they lost most of their power and velocity in the process. It was unlikely the bullets managed to do much damage.

Moreover, Stockwell could not tell where the spell had come from, as neither the swordsman or the magicaster they were defending appeared to cast it. Therefore, he figured one of their allies must have done it.

He looked back behind him.

HIs gas seemed to have been successful in stopping their advance. He saw the mace user pulling what looked to be the heavily injured short sword user out of the gas to safety, while the other ranged magic caster's hand was glowing with a golden light of a spell.

However, including the two people in front of him, that only accounted for five people. He had six opponents.

Where is the tomahawk guy?

「Assassinate」

「Penetrating Blow」

He suddenly felt a sharp collision on the side of his helmet. His head recoiled with pain and he felt a splash of hot blood on his scalp. A wave of extreme dizziness passed over him as he felt what he suspected was the spiked end of a tomahawk getting stopped by the titanium and ballistic shielding of his skull. His consciousness lapsed as his brain rattled around in his skull, but as it did so, Stockwell remembered to release healing potion in these situations.

He immediately released a small puff of health potion to clear the dizziness, maintaining his consciousness.

He felt the tomahawk user's presence just above and behind him and he quickly swept the flat of his shield-limb into his body.

「Flow Acceleration」

The tomahawk user nimbly planted their feet on the large surface of the shield and used the momentum to spring away to safety.

Simultaneously, the swordsman in front of him managed to slide the halberd off their sword and approach for an attack. The magic caster also released a spell at the same moment.

「Maximize Magic: Mud Arrow」

As the swordsman approached from the front, a large arrow of earthen material flew past them from behind, just barely passing to the right of their ear above their shoulder.

Stockwell could not help but marvel at his opponents' teamwork. They moved well together, each one helping to defend the others while also following the lead of each other's attacks.

And all of this was done without verbal communication between them.

Stockwell activated his thrusters and jumped backwards in a burst of movement, enhancing this motion with a small puff of agility potion as well to move to dodge the arrow. He landed back into his small cloud of poisonous gas as the mud arrow narrowly sailed past him.

He opened a canister of chlorine, just to buy himself a second while he took stock of the situation. He disappeared from view as a yellow cloud obscured his form.

「Necklace of the eye」

The cloud of gas became transparent through his eyes as he looked around at his opponents. They too seemed to be taking a breather and regrouping.

He saw them all coalesce into a group. The two primary magic casters then began casting buffs on them.

「Light Cure wounds」

「Lesser Dexterity」

「Lesser Strength」

「Protection from Arrows」

「Protection from Evil」

Stockwell looked around some more. It seemed that he had gotten two of them with the gas; the mace user and the shortsword user. Even after receiving healing from the magic caster, they still showed some signs of being poisoned.

The short sword user had carefully navigated to behind him and was watching the cloud intently. Stockwell caught the form of the tomahawk user briefly as they disappeared into the foliage.

Individually, they seemed to be weaker than Brain or Gagaran. However, there were six of them and their team work was formidable. Likewise, save for the swordsman and maybe the mace user who was also wearing heavy armor, each of them seemed to be more offensively inclined then defensively inclined.

These guys are strong. A magic caster who's playing healing and support, a magic caster specialized in offensive magic, a defensive swordsman, and a shortsword and mace guy with heavy armor who I haven't seen yet. And there's also the tomahawk guy who can seem to disappear and reappear out of nowhere.

Well, at least he's down one tomahawk.

He pried the spiked end of the tomahawk out of his helmet. It looked to be made of normal steel, though it could still very well be enchanted. And even if the spike had only made a small hole, being able to penetrate the OTB and stygilight of his helmet with a steel implement meant that the wielder was using some powerful martial arts.

He dropped the tomahawk into the mud.

I can't go easy on these guys. Maximum effort. Going for kills probably won't kill them out right.

He began to adjust his armaments. He opened the governors on his thrusters wide so that they'd be able to release more ethanol at a moment's notice. He also exchanged the nozzle on his acid sprayer for one that compressed the stream into a long, narrow jet.

He then exchanged the magazine of his rifle from his normal hardened steel core rounds, to high explosive incendiary rounds.

There was a small cavity within the head of each bullet that contained a small charge of nitrocellulose saturated with a magical substance called "alchemist's fire". Alchemist's fire was inert when it was sealed, but would quickly begin to burn when exposed to the atmosphere. Therefore, if the base of each of the rounds had a small opening with a channel of alchemist's fire leading to the charge, the moment the round was fired it would begin the alchemist's fire reaction almost as though it were a liquid fuze. Alternatively, if the bullet happened to hit an adequately hard surface and destroy the bullet's head, the alchemist's fire infused into the nitrocellulose would then be exposed to the air, burn, and thus cause an immediate detention.

The rounds wouldn't be as effective against heavy armor because they did not have the penetrative abilities that came with a solid metal core, but the heat and small explosions they would cause on impact would devastate the flesh of unarmored targets.

His radio buzzed. "I'm here. I see the enemy, what's the plan? Over."

He looked upward and saw Vera's small form hovering distantly above the canopy of the village.

Stockwell spoke into the radio. "Hold off for now. I need the practice. I think I can take these guys by myself, but step in if it looks like I need the support. Over."

"Roger that. Over"

"Over and out."

He put the radio away.

He cracked the tension out of his neck and took a deep breath.

Rhamnusia's voice boomed out of the cloud of gas.

"Well then! That was quite the ambush you guys pulled. However, that's the last hit any of you will be getting on me. If you don't feel like being dissected, your muscles salted and examined, then I suggest you surrender so we can have a chat like proper human beings."

The soldiers turned towards the gas cloud in response to his voice, but did not reply. They exchanged some words with one another but they were too far away for Stockwell to hear them.

"Last chance!" Rhamnusia shouted.

He saw the soldiers spread out once more. They likely didn't intend to approach him while he was inside the poisonous gas cloud.

Therefore, unless they wanted to just stare at each other for two minutes while the cloud dissipated, Stockwell would have to make the first move.

Alright then.

He took up his rifle and shot a stream of automatic fire at the one he saw casting healing spells earlier. Afterall, crippling what looked to be their healer would likely shatter their resolve.

Ratatatata—

Glowing, incendiary rounds barreled out the poison gas leaving trails of alchemist's fire in air that drifted downwards like thin ribbons of liquid fire.

They pummeled into the surprised magic caster and blew apart their flesh in a furious series of small fiery explosions. It seemed that the attack was violent enough to interrupt their casting, as their burning body fell backwards before they could even get off a spell to protect themself.

Apparently, that was the signal for everyone to start.

「Widen Magic: Gust」

The other primary magic caster stretched their hand forward and a harsh wind ripped through the clearing.

The poison fog around Rhamnusia was blown away in an instant. Likewise, the magic caster's allies had already moved out of the direction of the wind beforehand in order to not get the poison gas blown into them.

Like last time, Stockwell caught the forms of multiple people rushing towards him from all directions.

But unlike last time, he would not be holding back by merely going out of his way to assault one of them from the front. No, he would stand his ground and attack them all at once. He trusted that opponents of their caliber would find a way to survive, albeit barely.

His shielded-limb poised to one side of him as he flourished a large nozzle protruding from the end of the limb. The two large tanks of fluid attached to the inside of the shield wheezed to life with a tired and haunting sigh. Immediately, a stream of sticky, fiery liquid exited the nozzle and sprayed in a 30 meter arc.

It was a mixture of gasoline, napalm, and alchemist's fire. In other words, it was a flamethrower. The alchemist's fire was simply in there so that the mixture wouldn't need a flame to get started. It would burn the moment it came into contact with the air. He kept the tanks of the flamethrower attached to his distended shield limb so that in the event of an explosion, it wouldn't be directly on his person.

Simultaneously, he activated his acid sprayer. A thin jet of highly compressed liquid, less than quarter centimeter wide violently extended from his left forearm in a 40 meter beam opposite the direction of the flame thrower.

Rhamnusia then turned on his heels in a quick 180 degree turn.

He heard the startled cry of his opponents as every square meter the clearing was engulfed in fire and acid.

The flames were slow, unquenchable, and sticky. The flames stuck to the mud, plants, and the wood of the trees like a sticky, burning gum.

Stockwell saw that he had caught two of them in the flamethower's path as he turned, the shortsword user and the longsword user. The shortsword user screamed in pain as he dived off into the foliage for safety.

「Capacity building」

Stockwell heard him using martial arts as he retreated. As for the longsword user, they shielded the magic caster with their body. Napalm stuck to their armor as they backpedaled backwards in surprise.

「Protection from Fire」

The magic caster behind them cast a spell and the long sword user seemed to gain clarity despite still very much having burning napalm on their armor.

On the other side of the clearing, opposite the flames, Rhamnusia's beam of acid slashed outward at shoulder height like a 40 meter long unstoppable blade. Trees fell over as their trunks were cut clean through, as though they were nothing more plywood on the bed of a high pressure water jet.

The beam collided with the mace user.

「Reinforce Armor」

The heavy armor of the mace user glowed with the power of a martial art, but it could not protect them completely. The beam bore into them, blackening and destroying their armor where it made contact while the mere acid mist coming off the beam vaporized the mud and camouflage caking the armor.

The mace user fell backwards as a deep crease was cut across the font of their body. They were not bisected like the trees behind them, but the cut the acid made looked deep regardless.

「Evasion」

Stockwell saw a shimmer ahead of him as the jet of acid sliced into the trees. It was the tomahawk user, coming out of invisibility as he flipped over the path of the beam.

After two seconds had passed, the acid sprayer and flame thrower went silent.

Behind Rhamnusia, the forest crackled with flames and thick black smoke billowed into the sky while the trees and branches of the forest ahead continued to snap and fall as everything was still settling with the acid attack.

The shock on his opponent's faces was evident.

Rhamnusia transformed the environment into a hellscape in the span of two seconds.

The three opponents who had remained standing shook off their surprise as the comprehended the state of their situation

They exchanged a short glance with each other.

Stockwell heard one of them speak.

It was the tomahawk user. "We're retreating! Oswin and Chelsea follow my lead! We'll hold him off for a few seconds while the other's pick themselves up!"

The longsword user and the magic caster responded. "On it!"

「Holy Weapon」

「Quick Toss」

The tomahawk user threw a glowing tomahawk in Rhamnusia's direction.

This was clearly a distraction, but Stockwell raised his shield-limb to defend nonetheless. It bit into the metal surface of the hardened shield but did not penetrate very far.

Stockwell saw the swordsman approach from the front in the gap the shield-limb moved away from.

「Strong Strike」

With a small puff of haste and strength potions, Stockwell turned his body and raised his left hand to hand to defend. He activated his electromagnet and acetylene torch.

With the sound of metal on metal, the longsword crashed into his grip.

「Holy Strike」

As the blade connected, Stockwell felt a wave of energy race up his arm. However, it didn't seem to do very much, though, he thought he might have heard the undead slime beneath his armor wriggle and die.

He released a small puff of healing potion to heal the pain in his hand from absorbing the strike.

The swordsman tried to pry their sword out of his grip, but with the aid of the concentrated strength potion, the electromagnet, and his thrusters counteracting the sworsman's movement, they were unable to free their sword. Likewise, the flame of the acetylene torch tearing into the sword blade heated the blade to near melting, meaning that when the swordsman turned their hands to pry the sword, the force was simply transferred into bending the metal.

He immediately willed his spider-limb into action. He brought down the halberd in a slashing motion towards the swordsman's undefended flank.

The magic caster released a spell.

「Earthen Grasp」

Before the halberd could connect, large tendrils of mud and soil sprang from the ground and wrapped around the spider limb. The spider limb struggled against the force of the tendrils and was laboursly forced into the mud.

Stockwell noticed movement from below.

Coming in at a low angle from below the waist of the swordsman was the tomahawk user, priming to slash upwards into Stockwell's neck.

Stockwell released another puff of concentrated haste for safe measure. As time slowed, he jerked his head backwards.

「Assassinate」

The tomahawk blade sailed past his neck by mere millimeters.

As Stockwell's mind recoiled from the haste potion, he activated another device.

A cover on one of the distentions above his head flipped open to reveal the head of a zombified dire rat. Simultaneously, a small tube hummed to life on his upper left back. A powerful laser beam emitted from one of the rat's eyes. It had been given the order to make eye contact with the closest person it could see beforehand. The command was in constant effect which was why the rat simply had a cover on it at all times when not in use.

Bzzzzz

The rat's eyes shifted to look at the tomahawk user, filling his vision with a bright red spot powerful enough to have made anyone go permanently blind.

The tomahawk emitted a quiet squeak of confusion as he tried to both instinctually turn his eyes away from the blinding light while also not wishing to take his eyes off their opponent.

Stockwell still had his right hand free.

As the tomahawk user was stumbling away from him and the swordsman was still wrestling with him, he drew his side arm. A small pistol.

He ignored the two in front of him within melee range and shot over their heads towards the magic caster in the back.

Bang. Bang.

Two small shots was all it took. The Magic caster lost concentration on their spell as the bullets connected with their torso.

The earthen tendrils grasping the halber-limb turned back into inanimate mud an fell to the ground. With the halberd-limb free, Stockwell brought it down on the swordsman still wrestling in his grasp.

「Reinforce Armor」

「Shield of Faith」

The monstrous limb plowed into the swordsman's side, knocking them away and separating them from the sword in Rhamnusia's grasp.

It seemed that the swordsman was still very much alive however. The halberd had not been able to pierce their armor thanks to the effects of their last second martial art and the last second magical barrier.

Stockwell glanced to the side and saw the magic caster he had shot with incendiary rounds earlier. He was being propped up by the equally charred looking shortsword user. His hand glowed with a fading light.

The mace user was on his feet too, also barely alive.

The three of them were breathing heavily and looked to be on the verge of death. Spent pottles of healing potion were at their feet.

The tomahawk user and the swordsman scrambled away from Rhamnusia and joined the others.

Stockwell saw no reason to pursue.

They took a defensive stance in front of the small group while the magic caster who Stockwell had just shot with his pistol also struggled back to his feet.

"Well then." Rhamnusia said. "Feel like chatting now?"

He turned off the acetylene torch and threw aside the now partially melted and bent sword into the mud.

The group stared at him in silence for a moment.

Eventually the swordsman spoke.

"Go! I'll buy you time."

It appeared to be a woman's voice. She addressed the others once more.

"What are you waiting for? This monster is fighting on the level of the heroes. We can't hope to beat it."

The others exchanged glances. The tomahawk user began to speak. "You don't have to—"

"—Even if you're ranked higher than me. I still have the best defensive abilities out of all of us. I can buy you guys the most time… I'll try to escape as soon as I find an opening."

They all knew that such a opening was not likely to present itself, and that she was laying down her life for them. However, they were elite servants to the Slane Theocracy and to all mankind, they understood the meaning of a sacrifice.

They exchanged one last nod and the magic casters cast a few spells.

「Protection from Fire」

「Protection from Acid」

「Lion's Heart」

"Gods be with you."

The shortsword user handed her their shortsword. "Use it well."

They then cast another spell.

「Pass without a trace」

The group faded into the green depths of the forest without so much as rustling the leaves.

The swordsman gripped the short sword proudly with firm two hands and took a stance. Every nerve in her body committed to preventing the demon's pursuit.

Stockwell stared intently at her for a few seconds. It would seem exceedingly rude to attack her before her allies had made it to safety.

And so, after waiting about ten seconds, Rhamnusia passively walked toward her. with a slow gait.

"You're not even going to try to chase them?" The swordsman spat, steel in her eyes.

「Maximize Magic: Holy Weapon」

The shortsword in her grasp glowed with a strangely soothing light.

Rhamnusia stopped his approach a little ways ahead of her.

"How could I after seeing such a display of camaraderie?" He lowered all of his weapons in a clear act of nonaggression. "Besides, I had needed all of you to report back to your superiors. Spread the word that a scary demon named Rhamnusia is ruining their efforts and all that."

The swordsman smirked. "You seem pretty sure of yourself, making enemies. Do you really think that you can hope to combat the full retaliation of the holocaust scripture?"

The word came out of left field and blindsided him like a bus. He visibly recoiled as he mentally checked his ears to see if he misheard. "I'm sorry, the what scripture?"

"You heard me." The swordsman spat. "The holocaust scripture. The ones who burn the enemies of mankind into ashes. We carry the fire of the great god in our heart. A monster like yourself has no recourse."

Stockwell took a moment to recover from his surprise. "Okay…I. The auto-translate was not holding back on that one."

He cleared his throat. "Regardless. I will calculate in a minute exactly how sure I am of taking your people on." He made a hand signal.

Seeing the hand motion, the swordsman sharpened her senses, preparing herself for an attack. She raised his sword in defense.

「Ability Boost」

Her body glowed, strengthening in anticipation. But nothing came.

She eyed the demon carefully.

Her elbows began to gravitate towards each other. Her armored knees clacked into each other and she buckled to the ground. "What is this!?"

The sides of her feet, greaves, and her legs all the way up to her hips pressed into each other as though they had suddenly developed minds of their own. A force she could not describe was causing every piece of her armor to seek out every other piece. And while perhaps while said force wasn't ludicrously strong, it affected every square centimeter of her armor. And, once the entire surface area of the inside of his legs were pressed together, it was extremely difficult to free them due to the fact that human muscles were not designed to exert force in the direction to best separate them.

She struggled on the ground.

She tried to turn her head but her helmet too was affected by the spell and it resisted her motion. "What are you doing!?"

She hadn't even gotten to fight.

"This is unfair!"

Rhamnusia approached her. "Unfortunately, yes. I apologize for being so boorish, but I don't want to risk fighting you anymore than I have too. Both of us have used enough resources as is, and it is better for the data if you're as healthy as possible."

The swordsman's sword was stuck flat against her metal chestplate along with her gauntleted hands.

He leaned over her, "Vera, help me out here. I want to examine her sword since it seems its about the only thing we can remove from her at the moment."

As he said that, the swordsman could see another form appear from the above.

"Sure." Vera made her way over, and as she did so, the swordsman felt her own body tingle with electricity and her armor tighten with the contour of the magic caster's steps. She realized then that it must've been her and not Rhamnusia who had actually cast the restraint spell.

Vera waved her hand in a brushing motion and the swordsman's gauntlets responded in turn as though connected to her by invisible strings.

The swordsman's hands pulled away from her sword. Trails of electricity appeared between her gauntlets and her breastplate like white, quivering rubber bands as they slowly separated.

Vera leaned down and quickly snatched the sword away from underneath. After that, she released her control and the swordsman's gauntlets snapped back into the pull of the breastplate.

She handed the sword to Stockwell. "Here."

"Thankyou."

All the swordsman could do is glare bitterly as the demon began to examine her sword.

"I'm assuming you want me to keep watch?" Vera asked.

Stockwell glanced at the swordsman. "Will this one be safe with you gone?"

Vera nodded. "The armor is made entirely out of ferrous material. Probably steel. It's really thick too. Honestly surprised; a magic caster is laying it on so thick. All of the material has been turned into permanent magnets by now, she shouldn't be able to move. Or, if she is able to move, you should be able to catch her."

"I see," Stockwell said "Go ahead and stay on lookout then. I'd like to complete the tests and be out of here as soon as possible."

Vera turned to look behind them at the fire still raging at one end of the clearing. "What about the fire?"

"The forest is damp, it'll go out shortley. Likewise, we're upwind of the smoke. It won't interfere with the tests."

"Alright. Then I'll radio if I notice anything. I'll also radio Faber to come pick us up." Vera disappeared into the canopy once more.

"Now then…" He ran his hand down the sword. "What is the enchantment on this sword?"

The swordsman glared at him without replying.

"It's just that I'm rather curious about the level of your guys' gear." He said.

"You don't have to tell me yourself if you don't want to. I'll get it looked at later regardless."

He rummaged through his coat and removed a small leather pouch about the size of a first aid kit. He knelt down and began unpacking its contents; Small syringes, test tubes, thin phials of clear liquid and so on.

The swordsman masked the fear in her voice extremely well when she caught sight of the materials. "...are you… going to experiment on me?"

Rhamnusia's terrible mask turned towards her. "Sort of. I have lab rats back at home to conduct true experiments. I'm just going to perform some tests on your body that I've developed as a result of that said experimentation. Don't worry, this won't hurt too much for someone like yourself. I'm not here to torture you."

He cleaned and sanitized a thick biopsy-like needle that was to be used for isolating a portion of the swordsman's blood and tissues. It may have been strange to sanitize it considering that they were enemy combatants at the moment and that he would not be inclined to prevent her from getting an infection, but this step was indeed a necessity. It would make the results of his test more accurate.

"Normally at this point I'd remove all of your armor and clothing and examine you for injuries, but

removing the only thing restraining you right now would be foolish. So," Rhamnusia said, "I'll just ask, are you hurt anywhere?"

"...Fuck you." Was all the swordsman said in reply.

"I see. I do remember the gun shots you took, but I also saw that you received a healing spell. I also hit you a couple times with the halberd. However, you seemed to be moving just fine. I'll trust that you're still at nearly full health. "

He returned back to setting up his tests.

"You know, you're not the first person who's told me to fuck off today. Maybe my manners need assessing." He chuckled cooly.

"Now then…" He presented the needle. He glanced around the swordsman's body.

This might prove a bit of a challenge. He wanted to stick her with the needle but as she was currently, she was like a magnetic metal lock box with zero exposed flesh. It would be dangerous to free up one of her arms and hands while he was conducting the tests.

"Seems I'll have to get in from up top." He got up and sat above her head. He placed two hands on her helmet and both his feet on either of her shoulders and pulled. There was notable resistance from the magnetism but he was able to get it off eventually. The swordsman's full face was revealed. She looked very much the part of a soldier. Her face was hard and her hair had been cut extremely short.

He pulled her head to the side to get access to her neck as she resisted him. "Get off me!"

"You really should stay still. I might accidently hit your carotid." Eventually, he was able to insert the stainless needle into her external jugular.

He gently pulled back on the plunger and a small amount of blood polled into the chamber connected to the wide needle. However, he left the needle in place and did not siphon the blood off to a separate container. This was because he needed the blood to still be in contact with her body.

He quickly began chemical tests on the blood.

He started by mixing the blood with a clear solution of chemicals.

The swordsman spoke up. "...what… what are you doing to it?"

"Curious, are you? Please, don't be afraid to ask. I would also like to know if I were in your position."

He then pipetted several samples from the chamber and dripped them onto various pieces of colored paper. He closely examined the colors of the solution. He nodded to himself and began mixing a fine powder into the chamber.

"You see, it's one thing to study tactics and magic and to train one body to give them an edge in combat. But it's another thing entirely to turn combat itself into a science."

"...Science?"

"A lovely word. Isn't it? Science is the rightful inheritance of all mankind."

"What would you know about mankind, monster?"

"Funny you should ask."

Stockwell stopped what he was doing for a moment and began to undo the straps on his headwear. After the armored cage of his visor flipped open, he gently removed his mask. He smiled at the swordsman.

"You're human?" There was no small amount of surprise in her voice.

"Yes." Stockwell replied. He tried to speak in a casual tone to appease the swordsman. "The whole reason I'm here to begin with is that your boss… or more likely your boss's bosses, are being a bit shortsighted. And all I'm aiming to do is annoy them a bit. I have no intention of killing any more people than I have to. This is a good way to both force their hand to come to me, and I get to prove that I'm really not the evil demon they think I am."

"...I don't understand."

"I wouldn't expect you to. I suspect you've been fighting in this forest for some time, so you're probably a bit uniformed. I'm known as Rhamnusia. I wield some awfully terrible power so it's understandable that they would assume I'm a demon."

He began comparing the various colors on the paper to a chart he had written out. "It's a little bit too risky for me to just waltz across the border and say 'hey! I'm Rhamnusia and I'm here to help you guys out, just trust me on this!' do you see where I'm getting at?"

"So sadly," he said, "You guys on the ground here are going to be getting the short end of the stick for a little while."

The swordsman eventually laughed with a dark and confused expression. "Haha, you're insane. If you want to help us so badly you should be killing these elves, not us."

"Hey, I didn't kill anyone in your group." Stockwell said. "Didn't you see me going easy so that none of you guys died?"

"Tell that to the two men you killed in the village before we engage you."

"Oh?" Stockwell raised his eyebrow. "So you were watching that, no wonder you seemed to arrive supernaturally quickly after those guys fled."

"What was your plan?" Stockwell asked. "Were you supposed to be their chaperone or something? Because you didn't do a very good job. A lot more than two of your men died in that village before I got there. I counted at least six human bodies on the ground. Based on your strength you probably could've taken out that village by yourself without losing any men."

"Our operations are none of your business." She spat.

They went quiet for a time after that while Stockwell continued to conduct tests on the blood.

"Tell me, are you familiar with health points?" Stockwell asked. "HP, as they seem to be often abbreviated?"

The swordsman remained silent.

"You're staying silent but your eyes tell me that you do indeed recognize the word." Rhamnusia replied. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I had thought I was the first to come up with Health Point theory, but it seems such a concept has existed in this world long before I got here."

He held the now cloudy beaker of blood and solution up to the light and swirled it around.

"If you're already familiar with the concept of health points, then you should also know what their fundamental role in combat is, that is to say, health points make one's body more resilient. And that losing most of them returns someone to a state of more reasonable mortality. But what I'm sure you never learned about health points were the nuances of how they interacted with the physical flesh itself. After All, that requires a fundamental understanding of physiology."

"What is that supposed to mean?" The swordsman said.

"It means that you're in for a magi-anatomy lesson, while I conduct these tests."

Stockwell laid out several more strips of colored paper and pipetted solution onto them.

He suddenly scowled. He suddenly detached one of the gas cansiders on his bandolier and held it close to his ear.

"...Hold on, do you happen to smell something akin to moldy hay?"

The swordsman paused for a second. "...Of course not. What kind of question is that?"

Stockwell suddenly began sniffing around. "...I had thought that was just the natural smell of the forest plus the smoke… but…there's urea in your blood. You inhaled some phosgene." Stockwell said. "Means I inhaled a little bit too. Hopefully it was small enough to be intercepted by my bronchial filter."

He tightened the valve hard on the gas canister. "Seems I didn't close the valve all the way. It may be time to retire this canister since it's already seen a lot of combat. Sounds like the seals on it are getting a bit shotty."

After he confirmed that no more gas was leaking out of the canister, he re-attached it to the bandolier. "It would be a really stupid way for me to go if one of these happened to leak while I wasn't wearing a gas mask."

He turned back to the test equipment. "Now I have to take into account that you have a little phosgene in your system, but I suppose that's fine. You seem to be strong and it will take a while to rack up damage. I'll have time to complete the tests before they become too inaccurate."

He cleared his throat and went back to mixing chemicals.

"Ahem, back to the topic at hand. For example," Stockwell continued, "Did you know health points are only located in the body's living tissues and cells? They do not persist in things such as stomach acid or blood plasma, nor are they present within the bacterial communities in one's intestines. Nor do they persist in secretions such as sweat and urine. That makes sense though because otherwise you'd be draining away your HP as your body replaces its mucosa stomach lining, and sweating would be akin to bleeding. Interesting stuff."

He poured out the solution onto the colorful papers one last time and compared the resulting color change to a chart.

"Would you look at that? You're quite strong. 116RHC, roughly."

"Huh?"

"It means that you're about on the level of a mythril ranked adventurer." Stockwell Said. "Actually, given your coordination as a team, I'd say you guys are nearly at the level of orichalcum adventurers. But then again HP isn't everything, it's only one indicator of strength."

Stockwell began to laboriously strip some of the pieces of her armor off.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"Relax. I'm just trying to get these paludron's off, stop shifting around."

She rolled around on the ground while Stockwell tried to pin her down. He tried to get the straps underneath but she was moving around too much for him to get a firm grip.

"Alright you asked for it."

He pressed his shield-limb into her, pressing her body into the mud.

He then knelt over her and popped out a canister from beneath his left forearm in a series of mechanical clicks. "Guess we're just going to have to melt them off."

He extracted a small amount of slime enzyme from the canister and spread it over a small area over the front of her pauldrons. He then poured a small amount of acid over it. Immediately, the mixture began to sizzle and the pauldrons were eaten away along with her clothing underneath.

She winced in pain as bits of dissolved metal and acid met her skin.

"Alright then. Brace yourselves, just going to do a little incision here."

She seethed as she felt Stockwell maneuver a small, stainless steel blade into her upper arms. "There we are, that's the muscle."

"What are you doing?" She said breathlessly. More so than just the pain or fear. At this point in the conversation, she was just exasperated with confusion about what this supposed mad man was supposedly doing to her.

"Measuring your extra-anatomical strength. It's a way of quantifying how exactly strong you are. Averaging that with you Hp will give me a pretty good estimate on your overall combat abilities."

He then pulled out a small device resembling that of a pair of calipers. He clamped its head over the tendons of one of her exposed muscles.

She flexed her arms instinctually as she felt the caliper-like tool grip her tendon.

"Would you mind relaxing your muscles please? Release all the tension please. I can't make measurements otherwise." Stockwell said.

"Fat chance." She smirked as she flexed her arm as hard as possible.

"Thank you." Stockwell said as he removed the calipers.

"But I thought—"

"I was lying, I needed you to flex your hardest."

He then looked at a gauge on the caliber like tools and went to compare against a chart. "You;ve got a kinetic strength of 7.8 SHU. Wow, very impressive. Much higher than I thought."

"SHU?"

"Standard Human Units." Stockwell explained. "That is to say, your natural muscles are about 7.8 times stronger than that of a normal human, not accounting for the use of special buffs or martial arts… oh shit."

Stockwell smacked his head.

"What is it?"

"You got a whole bunch of buss cast on you, damnit. Oh well. I'll just take it into consideration next time. I think I got what I needed."

"You're done?" She asked.

"Yep, pretty much. There is just one last thing I need to do."

"And that is?" She glared at him. The ferocity in her eyes told him that she was not afraid of death.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you. That would send the wrong message to your bosses."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to paralyze your arms."

"What?"

"You heard me." Stockwell said. "I don't want to kill you if I don't have to, we're ultimately on the same side after all. But your bosses won't care that much if I just send you back tarred and feathered. So I'm going to cast a powerful curse on you that will permanently seal all feeling in your arms. It'll turn you into a useless combatant."

"You're going to… paralyze my arms?" There seemed to be genuine fear behind her eyes.

"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing." Stockwell said. "And as soon as your bosses and I have a little chat, I can restore your arms like nothing happened."

All the swordsman could do was release a confused exhale as Stockwell approached her face with a chemical soaked rag.

"Don't worry, this will only take a minute."

…

Chelsea awoke.

She realized her armor had been mostly stripped from her along with her magical items, as her movements no longer seemed to be locked by the mysterious force.

She looked around. She was still in the same clearing, in fact, as Rhamnusia had said, probably only a minute had passed as the fire was still burning in the woods behind her.

She tried to get up off the ground but her arms would not respond.

No way… Please no.

Her arms sat lifelessly at her side.

It took her a great deal of effort to stand on her feet, as she had to roll with her shoulders into a sitting position and then carefully stand up from there.

She then finally became aware of the loud noise permeating the forest above her.

She looked up to see Rhamnusia holding onto a cable along with another figure flying above the canopy.

Rhamnusia shouted down to her. "Good luck making it back to your camp! Put in a good word for me!"

Then the loud noise she heard grew louder and she briefly caught the form of a red smudge streak across the sky. It seemed to sweep Rhannusia and the form away with it.

The noise receded into the distance.

---

I finally joined the Grand Library of Ashurbanipal Overlord discord server, where you can chat with me there and ask questions about the story going further if you want.