AN: Yeah, the Chapter's title is a pun. So what?
You got a problem with puns? Huh? HUH!?
I didn't think so...
I'm so happy that My Craft has over 20,000 Views, 59 Favs, and 56 Follows! That's more than I can count on one hand and I count ten per finger too!
Anyway, congrats to AxeHelix for getting last week's riddle correctly. What word in the English Language is always spelled incorrecty? None of them! Because 'incorrecty' isn't a word! Enjoy your cookie and your acknowledgement.
(::)
I've decided to do a riddle once every two weeks instead of once every week. Just felt like announcing that. (^_^)
Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft. If I did, I'd add Potions of Obliviousness
Beta: Myself because I couldn't get this to my Beta on time.
Chapter 47
Skull-dagger-y
"Ooooh. So close."
Noman would have reprimanded Marble for his obvious statement of their failure, if not for the fact he currently had a thousand yard stare. He was utterly dejected. His hands were clutching the podium where the Voda Shlem had been lying only a few moments ago.
The guests were still panicking too. A dozen yellow-capped guards were trying to calm them all down. Lord Maplefrost barked out orders to a handful of other guards to lockdown both the mansion and the grounds, and to spread the word to the remaining guards.
Nobody was to get in or out of the premises.
This was a disaster. Just when he thought he had obtained a second artifact, it was taken right out of his fingers. Noman worried that Maplefrost might even withhold the items, out of fear for any more getting stolen. Though, perhaps if he addressed him when things had calmed down enough…
"Everyone, calm down! Lord Rogers' murderer will be found!" One of the guards shouted over the screaming guests.
"Calm down? CALM DOWN!?" One of the guests raved. "Lord Rogers, one of the twenty-two Family heads and a member of Dover Plains' council, was just murdered!"
"We need to get out of here! Who knows when this killer will strike again?"
"What if the killer is targeting the Family heads!" Lord Prescott looked absolutely terrified. "I'm too young and handsome and wealthy to die! Plus, I'm modest!"
A yellow-capped guard stood up on a table. "Us guards will protect you. Now cease this pandemonium! Don't you know that screaming only makes people want to kill you faster!?"
Instead of calming the crowd, those words riled them up even more. In all this confusion, whoever killed Lord Rogers would never be found.
How could things possibly get worse? Noman dared to think.
"Die, you capitalist swine!"
Lord Maplefrost was roughly shoved out of the way by a guard. Right before an arrow could nail him in the skull.
There, on the balcony overlooking the dining room, was a man wearing a black-dyed leather cap and iron armor. He had a bow drawn back, aimed at—
"Marble!" With that exclamation, Noman snapped out of his depression and tackled the blond Scout to the ground before the arrow could hit him.
However, before he could say anything, several more arrows flew at the two downed Crafters, shaving off a few Hearts.
The rest of the dining room wasn't so lucky. Everyone was panicking so much, that they failed to notice the archers on the balcony until it was too late. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Arrows of increased power and fire rained down upon the guests, injuring them, setting them ablaze, or flat out ending them.
It seemed the 'lone' archer wasn't alone. Noman counted at least fifteen archers on the balcony. And who knew how much more were waiting. But the most notable thing about these archers was the black-dyed leather caps. Meaning…
"Cultists!" A guard answered Noman's thoughts before he too was riddled with arrows.
The Endward Cult was here.
"Everyone get down!" Another guard shouted, using the tables as cover from the multitude of arrows. Noman and Marble followed his advice as did some of the more composed guests. "Protect the Family heads!"
"Bah! I hate party crashers!" Marble frowned as an arrow missed him by an inch. "And they're cultists to boot! Double Bah!"
Noman peeked over the table to look at the dining room only to recoil in horror. "They're killing people!"
"Well, yeah, that sucks too, but—"
"Language!"
"Ugh—that blows too—"
"LANGUAGE!"
"That—Aw, forget it! Just get in there and take 'em out!"
"What!?" Noman shouted in alarm. "Why me?"
"Because, last I checked, you had the super-powerful chestplate!" The blond Scout rapped his knuckles against the dark-haired Crafter's skull as if to rattle his brains. "If that thing enabled an old lady to take on fifty angry Crafters, then it sure as…heck…can take out these cultists!"
Noman's face looked conflicted. "I…I'm sorry…but I can't." He locked his blue eyes imploringly with Marble's light-blue ones. "Every time I put that chestplate on, someone dies."
"So? This is the Endward Cult we're talking about! The guys on a mission to eradicate all Crafters in Minecraftia!"
"I know…but…maybe if we could just imprison them…or better yet, try and dissuade them—"
Noman's suggestions were cut off as an arrow pierced his shoulder, prompting him to sink lower into cover.
"Fine, I'll take care of them myself! And with style too!" Marble withdrew his Longsword. "I need my Tackle the Bad-Guy Badge, anyway. Hey, give me one of those Notch Apples."
"What!?" Noman clutched the golden fruit to his chest protectively. "But I need these for my mission! I can't waste them—"
"Well, I can't get any more badges if I'm dead! And you can't complete your mission if you're dead!" Marble argued back. "So either get out there and do something or Notch Apple me!" He held out an awaiting hand.
Noman hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in when he realized the Scout was right. Notch gave him the Notch Apples to aid in his fight against the Endward Cult. Well, now they were fighting the Endward Cult.
"Alright, here." He gave up one of his precious apples to the Scout. "But even if you eat one, then what? They'll only give you Fire Resistance."
Marble laughed as he took a bite. "Man, you have no idea what these things can do. Check this out!" As soon as he finished the apple, and several colorful particles swirled around him, he vaulted over the table they were using as cover and charged towards the balcony.
Noman watched as the cultists directed their arrows at the blond Scout. Noman wanted to scream at him to stop, but paused when he noticed the eager smile on Marble's face.
The arrows hit him. And kept hitting him. He was set ablaze. Turned into a human pincushion. And he kept saying 'ow' every time an arrow hit his face.
But he didn't die.
The Notch Apple's effects were shielding him from damage.
After taking several dozen arrows, Marble finally stumbled beneath the balcony where he was shielded from the cultists' sight. He withdrew some blocks from his backpack and began building a staircase up to the balcony.
Meanwhile, Noman kept low in cover as he tried to crawl to another mass of tables. He had to admit, these cultists were excellent archers. If he so much as exposed a piece of his clothing, an arrow would be shot at it not two seconds later.
If things continued like this, the dining room would become a graveyard.
When Noman finally reached the other tables for cover, he let out a short gasp upon seeing a cowering guest, flanked by two armed guards.
"Get your own cover!" The guest shouted in both anger and terror. "I'm Lord Harrisfield, one of the twenty-two Heads! I'm worth more than your life!"
Noman was about to open his mouth to defend himself when he suddenly remembered what Lord Harrisfield bid on. "Didn't you buy the Flame Bow?"
The Lord scoffed. "Of course I bought the Flame Bow! And if you think I'll let those cultists get their grubby hands on it, you're sorely—"
"Did it ever occur to you to use the Flame Bow?" Noman reasoned.
Lord Harrisfield scoffed even further. "Me? Fire a bow? Come now, I pay people to do that for me! Plus, it would decrease the value of the bow if it were used!"
The two guards shared a deadpan look with each other before grabbing the bow from Harrisfield's belt. "Hey! Unhand that, you guard dogs!"
The protests were unheard as one of the guards loaded the bow with a flaming arrow and shot it towards the balcony. It hit its mark and one of the cultists burst into flames before tumbling off the balcony and exploding into a shower of gear.
Noman grimaced at the ugliness of it, but nonetheless, continued crawling forward.
Considering all the items the guests had bought, and how half of them could be used for combat, Noman realized he needed to spread the word to all the selfish guests stubbornly holding onto their items.
…Not himself though. No, he had a good reason for not wanting to use the Severe Shield. He didn't want to kill people again. The guests just didn't want to get their hands dirty.
Completely different motivations.
Yes.
After crawling to several other tables used for cover, and convincing Lord Longcoat and Lord Meriwether to use their respective Thorns III Chestplate and Protection III Chestplate, Noman noticed that some of the cultists were starting to jump down.
Or rather, someone was knocking them down.
"Surprise!" The confident voice of Marble rang out as he shoved a cultist off the balcony and onto the floor. The guards quickly descended on each cultists pushed off, overwhelming them with sheer numbers.
Yet still there were archers on the balcony. And they weren't giving up.
After taking one too many hits while crawling, Noman kept himself in cover and munched on some steaks. He could have used the Notch Apples to heal instantly, but he had already used two in the span of a few days. Considering the amount of gold each on required, he had to save them for when they were absolutely necessary.
Noman actually spotted someone standing up from cover and turned to see who it was.
Surprisingly it was the man that tried to outbid him for the Voda Shlem, Ciro_Che. He withdrew a bow of his own that glinted in the chandeliers' light. He closed one of his heterochromatic eyes, revealing only his gray orb, as he pulled back the string and took a shot.
Noman watched as the arrow flew at two cultists on the balcony. However, what happened next defied everything he knew about Minecraftia.
The arrow exploded.
As soon as it made contact with something, it detonated in a large explosion that engulfed both cultists and sent their gear tumbling off.
Many of the guests and guards flinched at the explosion, probably thinking the cultists were setting up TNT. Nobody but Noman saw Ciro shoot that arrow.
Ciro put the bow away, glancing left and right as if checking if anyone saw him. Then his eyes settled on Noman's, still firmly fixed on the bow that shot the exploding arrow. Ciro narrowed his eyes dangerously.
However, Ciro was so focused on Noman that he failed to miss the cultist sneaking up behind him.
"Ciro! Behind you!" Noman called out, snapping the dark-ponytailed man from his glares. He quickly spun around and elbowed the cultist in the arm, forcing him to drop his sword. And in that instant, Ciro scooped up the sword and plunged it into the cultist's chest. Then he pulled it out and struck again, and again, and again until the cultist exploded into a pile of gear. Dead.
Ciro looked back at Noman with an unreadable expression before offering a grateful nod.
Despite the combined efforts of the guests, the guards, Marble, and Ciro, there were still some cultists left. A few of them took shots at Noman's cover, trying to arc them into killing him. He needed to move fast or get skewered.
"Go!" Ciro called out as he raised a different bow. "I'll cover you!"
Noman didn't bother arguing with the man as he bolted from his hiding spot, trusting that Ciro would indeed cover him.
Arrows rained down upon the hapless Newb as he shielded his head with his arms. He kept his eyes focused on the next set of tables, even as arrows pierced his torso and arms. Even though he was able to dodge the flaming arrows, he was still pelted. They hurt way worse than a Skeleton Mob's shot.
At least Ciro was covering him.
…Or at least, that's what he thought. For as he looked up through the pain and arrows, he saw Ciro just watching him coldly. The bow remained undrawn at his side.
"Cir—OW!" An arrow caught Noman in the knee, tripping and sending him sliding painfully across the polished floor.
What happened next played out in Noman's head like it was slow motion.
He struggled to turn over on his back. He watched as three separate arrows were fired with pinpoint accuracy at himself. And he watched as Ciro kept staring at him coldly. With a glint of eagerness in his calculating heterochromatic eyes.
No! Noman thought frantically as he tried to move out of the way.
I can't die now!
He knew it was pointless. Those arrows were going to hit him.
And he didn't have the Health to survive.
'Well, I can't get any more badges if I'm dead! And you can't complete your mission if you're dead!'
Marble's words floated through Noman's head as he instinctively withdrew his artifact and swapped it with his leather tunic. In his will to survive, Noman had no other choice.
Severe Shield!
Noman watched as his Health Bar quadrupled and several potion effects manifested as individual tattoos on his arm. And as the arrows touched his chestplate, the powerful Protection enchantment made it so he barely felt a prick, even as the chestplate glowed with light.
The powerful Thorns Enchantment on the Severe Shield soon activated, causing the three cultists that shot at him to explode in a shower of gear. The backlash was too much for them to take.
And just like that, Noman had ended three more cultists.
Instead of feeling accomplished, Noman felt ashamed. This was just like that day he first claimed those lives with the chestplate. He didn't mean to use it. It was just on instinct.
He didn't want to die.
Having recovered enough, Noman got back into suitable cover. He shot an accusing glare at Ciro for not covering him and almost letting him die.
Only to gasp in horror at what he saw.
Ciro had moved to another set of tables, and had plunged his sword into the back of one of the guests. Noman spotted two piles of gear nearby, each with a yellow-dyed leather cap. Those piles used to be guards.
Before Ciro killed them to get at that guest.
And that guest was Lord Turdfellow, another bidder for the Voda Shlem.
Noman suddenly realized why Ciro had been content to watch him die. If all the artifact's bidders died in the confusion caused by the Endward Cult…Ciro would have no competition. He'd be the only bidder left alive.
He wanted the artifact badly enough to kill for it.
"Stop!" Noman called out, already running towards Ciro. The pony-tailed man drove his sword further into Turdfellow and gave it a twist, killing the Lord. The entire dining room was so preoccupied fighting off the remaining cultists that nobody noticed Turdfellow's death wail. But the entire time he was killing him, Ciro had his eyes solely on Noman. Or more accurately on the diamond chestplate he was wearing. His heterochromatic eyes shone with a multitude of emotions. Shock, greed, anger, and a little bit of fear.
But before Noman could get close to the man, he was off. Pushing past cowering guests and guards before sprinting out the main doors.
Noman followed, but not before swapping the Severe Shield back for his blue-dyed leather tunic.
The dark-haired Newb was certain that Marble and the guards could handle the rest of the cultists on that balcony. Even though fighting the Endward Cult was part of his mission, obtaining all the artifacts was also part of that mission.
So, whether he should prioritize stopping Ciro_Che—A man willing to kill to obtain the Voda Shlem—or a couple of Endward Cult grunts, was the decision he was struggling with.
In the end, he was more worried about Ciro_Che killing Lord Maplefrost and stealing the Voda Shlem than he was about the Endward Cult.
Noman burst through the dining room's doors into a hallway that split into three different directions. One way went left, another way went right, and the third way led to the front doors of the mansion.
Noman looked left and right before spotting Ciro running down the right hallway. He moved to go after him—
Only to stop short when an arrow whizzed in front of him before sticking into the wall.
He turned to face five people standing in the middle of the hallway leading towards the front doors. Four of them were wearing black-dyed leather caps and two of those four had bows drawn and ready to shoot.
However, the fifth person, standing center in the group of five, was the one that stood out the most.
He had what looked like a Skeleton skull over his head. He wore a dark grey jacket with light grey lining, and under that a simple black t-shirt with a single grey stripe running across. He had black jeans with dark grey straps hanging off of them, black shoes with light grey at the toes, and a light grey backpack and belt.
Hanging from his belt was a Crafter Head that looked exactly like Lord Rogers' and a diamond sword that must have been the stolen Looting Sword.
More cultists? Noman thought as he took a hesitant step away from where the arrow was lodged in the wall. Why are they just waiting out here?
One of the black capped cultists laughed. "Looks like they missed two of them! I knew those guys were lousy shots." He loaded his bow with an arrow and pointed it at Noman. "Looks like you were right for us to wait out here, Lieutenant."
Lieutenant? Noman turned towards the skull-wearing Crafter who just tilted his head in response. Noman couldn't read the name over his head. It was like the Mob head he was wearing was obscuring his name.
Is…is he behind this attack?
"Why are you doing this?" Noman spoke before he could stop himself. From everything everyone said about the Endward Cult, their goal was the eradication of all Crafters in Minecraftia. But exactly what drove them to that point.
This was his first chance to actually talk to one. Maybe if he understood their reasoning, he could get them to stop.
The cultists with the bow began to laugh derisively, pulling back his bow further. However, just as he was about to fire, the skull-wearing Lieutenant pushed the bow aside and threw off the projectile's aim. "Wait."
The cultists looked surprised at their Lieutenant's order, but lowered their weapons all the same. Then the Lieutenant stepped forward.
"Why are you asking such a question?" He began with slight interest. "Surely after surviving that dining room, you know what we're here for." He tapped Lord Rogers' Head at his belt.
At the gruesome gesture, Noman reflexively took a step back before shaking his head. "That's not what I mean. Why are you killing people? What is all of this for?"
The Lieutenant tilted his head. "Can you really afford to waste time on questions like that?"
Noman nodded. Even though he wanted to follow Ciro, he had to know why the Endward Cult was doing what it was doing.
Ciro could wait. This took priority.
The Lieutenant let out a weary sigh before directly facing Noman. "The Endward Cult seeks the eradication of Crafters for many reasons. Some personal, some tied closer to greed…and some based on perverse and loose morals.
"But I am here because these people need to die." He held up Rogers Head like it was a trophy. "This wealthy fool spent enough emeralds to feed a village on something as frivolous as a Looting Sword. And all the other Lords and Ladies in that dining room are no different." The Lieutenant practically spat out those words. "They surround themselves in a wealth accumulated from the hard work of those beneath them.
"Even worse, their 'Family' hierarchy rules an entire Kingdom, forcing rules that benefit themselves upon the populace." He spread his arms out. "Minecraftia can do without greedy filth like them. And once they are freed from this plane, it will become a better place."
"Or," Noman offered shakily, cutting off the Lieutenant's rant. "You can just drop the Looting Sword…and leave."
The Lieutenant let out a small chuckle. "I suppose I could. Unfortunately, my master requires this sword. And whatever my master requires must be done."
"Then at least leave!" Noman raised his voice to try and reason with them. The cultists flanking the Lieutenant tensed, but none of them made a move without the say-so. "Nobody else needs to die today. Not the Lords, not the guards, and not even you cultists."
The Lieutenant shook his head. "You're wrong. Like I said before, these people need to die. Somebody has to die." He withdrew the Looting Sword from his belt. "Do you know why this Looting Sword is so valuable?"
"Because it has an enchantment that gets more loot from slain Mobs." Noman answered easily, remembering what the guests had said about it. However, he failed to see what that had to do with their conversation. "Why does your master even need it?"
The Lieutenant chose to ignore that last question. "You are correct. The Looting Sword obtains more loot to the wielder for each Mob slain. However, what deeper purpose does this imply?"
One of the cultists leaned their head towards the Lieutenant. "Sir, we shouldn't be wasting time like—"
However, the cultist was silenced when the Skeleton skull tilted to look at him. The Lieutenant continued to watch the cultist, even after he had backed down, before once more turning his attention to Noman.
"The answer is this; The core purpose of this Sword is the core problem that faces Minecraftia: Supply and Demand." The Lieutenant held up the sword to the light, watching it shine brilliantly. "Minecraftia is nothing more than a speck, choked off from the rest of the world. Surrounded by an impassible Border that vaporizes anything it touches. A bubble, closed-off, in which there is only a set amount of resources.
"Yet despite this, Crafters continue to spawn every day. Crafters who waste resources. Crafters who take and take and take! Crafters who climb over each other in piles, blocking out the sun, stealing food and water and the very air, suffocating all of us in darkness—!"
"Sir!"
Noman watched carefully as the Lieutenant, who had been clutching himself more and more throughout his tirade and hyperventilating, steadily unwound upon his cultist's exclamation. He took a few breaths, steadying himself before finally regaining his calm.
He bowed slightly. "Sorry for that…I got a bit carried away. You get my point though."
"Yes, I think I understand." Noman had no idea that Minecraftia was surrounded by an impenetrable Border. With a billion Crafters spawned into existence, it made sense that preserving resources would be an issue.
So the Lieutenant saw the Endward Cult's objectives as limiting population growth. Less people would mean having to share less. And the resources could last everyone a bit longer.
"So, Noman," the Lieutenant extended a hand. "What say you to joining the Endward Cult?"
"Huh?" Noman replied dazedly. Even more so at being addressed by his nickname instead of the name above his head. Join them? Where did that come from?
The cultists beside him were equally confused. "Sir, he's part of the Families! Why extend an invitation to him!?"
"He is not of the Families." The Lieutenant responded harshly. "He snuck in here just like we did. He's just a common man seeking an item." He turned back towards Noman. "An item, might I add, that could belong to you if not for the greedy pigs hogging it for themselves. Such people do not deserve items of such worth, wouldn't you agree?"
Noman remained silent.
"Why waste your emeralds bidding for it when you can just walk up to them and slay them for it?" The Lieutenant extended his hand further out. "Join us, Noman. Join the Endward Cult and you can have all you desire…and more."
"Or…you can just drop the Looting Sword and leave." Noman withdrew his blade as he answered, hoping there wouldn't be a fight but hearing enough to know that that wasn't going to happen.
The Lieutenant's arm fell to his side. "A pity." Then he raised his hand to signal his fellows. At once, they wielded their bows and swords with the intent to kill.
But Noman wasn't entirely stupid. There had been more to his questions than just a need to know. He had been stalling for time. Enough time for the dining room battles to end and the victorious guards and guests to walk out those doors.
Which is exactly what happened.
The cultists paled at the sight and even the Lieutenant looked taken aback at how many had survived their ambush.
"More Cultists?" One of the guards questioned as he took a fighting stance along with his fellow guards.
"Sir, there are more than we anticipated." One of the cultists stated while putting more space between them and the guards.
The Lieutenant nodded. "Yes, but it appears our efforts succeeded in killing a few of the Family heads. That will cripple the council for sure."
"You want to talk about crippling!?" One of the guards shouted while wielding his sword. "Because after I'm finished with you…the…um…only cripple will…will be you!...And then I'll kill you!"
The other guards shook their heads in shame. "You need to work on your trash-talk, Steffens."
While the guards murmured about terrible trash-talk, the five cultists quickly turned to sprint for the doors.
However, those were soon guarded by the guards stationed outside the mansion. They must have responded to Maplefrost's orders to keep anyone from getting in or out.
And now the cultists were surrounded.
"I can't stand being in a hallway with so many people." The Lieutenant commented before withdrawing several green-blue orbs from his belt and handing them out to his cultists. "We're going with Plan B. Split up."
"They have Ender Pearls!" One of the guards shouted as everyone descended upon the cultists. Noman, who had no idea what Ender Pearls were, was pushed aside into the wall.
"Stop them!"
The cultists threw their respective pearls over the crowd in five separate directions. And just like that, where there once were five cultists, there was nothing but air as they seemingly vanished.
"There they go!" One of the guests exclaimed as they watched a black-dyed cap round a corner.
The crowd quickly split up to chase down the cultists, but Noman kept himself close to the wall and tracked where that Lieutenant had thrown his pearl. Directly at the curling staircase.
The Newb gave chase as the skull-headed cultist ran up to the second floor before taking a left. The diamond Looting Sword was still glinting at his belt, catching Noman's attention like a shiny, blue blur and making it easier to follow his movements.
However, the next instant, there was a different colored blur.
"Tackle the Bad-Guy Badge!" Marble's blond hair shot into the Lieutenant's side from the door leading to the balcony. The Lieutenant coughed painfully before both of them impacted the floor. The Looting Sword slid from his belt and bounced off the wall with a clang of metal before finally settling.
"Ha! Marble used Tackle!" The Scout grinned from his position over the high-ranking cultist. "It's super-effective!" A hand shot up to clamp around Marble's neck. "Or not…" He choked out as he clutched his neck for air.
Even thought the Lieutenant had his face covered, there was no mistaking the livid aura he was emanating. "Get off me! GET OFF ME!" He screamed as he withdrew a weapon from his belt and drove it into Marble's skull. If Health didn't operate on Minecraftia logic, he'd probably have died.
Marble managed to disentangle the Lieutenant's iron-like grip before distancing himself from him. Meanwhile, Noman dove for the Looting Sword, rolling over it as he picked it up and stood beside the Scout.
"You saw me tackle that guy, right?"
"Yes, Marble."
"So you'll attest that I earned my badge, right?"
"Yes, Marble."
"Cool."
The Lieutenant, noticing the sword was no longer at his belt, turned to face Noman and Marble. His sudden outburst almost forgotten. "I must ask you to return that Looting Sword."
"I intend to. Lord Maplefrost will want this back."
"Ah…I see the confusion." The Lieutenant shook his head. "I meant myself."
"You dropped it." Noman stated. "You're halfway there. Now you just need to leave."
Once again, the Lieutenant's aura flared in anger, an emotion lost on his masked face. He tossed his weapon, an iron dagger, from one hand to the other before twirling it with the grace of a seasoned knife-fighter.
"It appears you brought stupidity to a knife fight."
Things were bad.
Really bad.
The Lieutenant was tearing Noman and Marble apart with nothing but a dagger, one of those Exter exclusive weapons that Marble had mentioned.
It was absurd how something so small could cause so much damage.
But whenever Noman raised his diamond blade to strike, the Lieutenant simply intercepted the flat of the blade with his free hand before pushing it aside and lashing out with his dagger. Usually targeting the forearm or neck.
Marble went in with his Longsword, trying to get a slash in. But the Lieutenant's hands were a blur as he effortlessly batted aside every strike. On one such exchange, he actually caught Marble's sword-wielding hand and pushed it to the side, taking the opportunity to stab him in the shoulder and sending him tumbling to the ground.
It had been going like that for a few minutes. Anytime one of them was too injured to continue, they would switch to heal up. But the Lieutenant didn't even look to be breaking a sweat from the fight.
He was on a whole different level.
Noman wondered if he'd have to use the Severe Shield just to end the fight.
Once again, Noman ran in to deliver a powerful strike, but the Lieutenant simply batted it aside before swiping at Noman's eyes.
As the dagger closed in, Noman threw his hand up reflexively and actually caught the Lieutenant's hand just below the blade.
"Aha!" Noman laughed in disbelief before he winced in pain. The Lieutenant had twisted his wrist to slice at Noman's fingers, causing him to release the cultist. The next instant, Noman was kicked back into a wall before the dagger was thrown at him. Had he not dodge-rolled out of the way, he would have been talking through a dagger-sized hole in his head.
Noman crawled back to the awaiting Marble while the Lieutenant yanked his dagger out of the wall. He certainly was skilled with it.
"We're getting nowhere, Nowhere."
"I can see that, Marble." Noman replied flatly. "Got any ideas?"
"Yeah, but seeing as how you'd rather not use it…" Marble trailed off as Noman got the gist of it.
"You two are surprisingly difficult to kill." The Lieutenant commented as he twirled his dagger in the air. "If you hand over the sword now, I might spare your lives."
"As tempting as that sounds, why don't you try this move on for size!" Once again, Marble got into his stance, holding his Longsword at the ready. Noman took a step back, remembering how dangerous the Longsword's strike was.
The Lieutenant raised his hand to chuck the dagger, but suddenly lowered it for some reason. Almost as if considering something. Instead of throwing the dagger, he just took a defensive stance.
And in the blink of an eye, Marble careened forward at breakneck speed, his sword trailed behind him and glinting in the light. A blond bullet that struck the Lieutenant's intercepting dagger.
The impact of metal upon metal clanged loudly like a bell but the force behind the strike was too much for the Lieutenant to stand. He was blasted back and into a separate room.
Marble panted in exhaustion but shot Noman a cheeky smile. "How's…that!"
Noman nodded looking impressed before putting his guard up once more. He couldn't imagine the Lieutenant recovering from an attack like that, but he wasn't entirely sure what the high-ranking cultist was capable of. The Newb tentatively entered the room to continue the fight, with Marble right beside him, as they searched for the skull-wearing cultist.
The room was dark, the only source of light being the moonlight streaming through the open window. The Lieutenant could be hiding anywhere.
However, Noman noticed a man lying on the ground. A man with dark grey hair, wearing purple-dyed leather armor and a black baseball cap. Looking remarkably like—
"Leadstripe?" Noman quickly leaned down to help the man up. "What happened? Why are you—"
"There's no time for that now!" He argued weakly while pointing to the window. "That skull-wearing thief just vaulted out that window!"
"Don't worry!" Noman replied easily as he moved past Leadstripe to look out the window. "We kept him from stealing the Looting—"
*SPLASH*
Noman felt a splash potion hit him in the back and immediately felt his strength get sapped away. He turned expecting a cultist to have thrown it…
But gasped in horror upon seeing Leadstripe slash at Marble back with an iron dagger. The Scout let out a pained gasp before a second strike slashed his throat, preventing him from shouting in pain. He tumbled to the ground, even as Leadstripe kicked at his chest for good measure.
"W-what?" Noman stammered as the grip on his sword weakened, though more from Leadstripe's actions than the Potion of Weakness that was splashed on him. "Leadstripe?"
Leadstripe smirked triumphantly as he withdrew the Skeleton skull from his Inventory and put it on while also tearing off his purple-dyed leather armor and tossing it aside
"I think you mean, Lieutenant Leadstripe."
Inventory (Noman): 1 Diamond Chestplate {Severe Shield}, 1 Diamond Sword {Sharpness I}, 1 Bow {Infinity}, 1 Wooden Pickaxe, 1 Wooden Axe, 1 Crafting Table, 2 Oak Wood Planks, 1 Book {Notch Mission II}, 1 Book {Artifact List}, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Entry Pass}, 1 Paper {Dover Plains Entry Pass}, 1 Map {Dover Plains}, 1 Arrow, 2 Glass Bottle, 31 Steaks, 8 Enchanted Golden Apples, 1 Leather Tunic [Dyed Blue], 1 Leather Pants [Dyed Blue], 1 Leather Boots [Dyed Blue], 2 Bones, 12 Rotten Flesh
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AN: Lieutenant Leadstripe!? What a shocking turn of events!
This Chapter, I continued writing in third-person. I don't know, sometimes I'm okay with it sometimes I'm not okay with it. Like I feel like I need a new word to describe Noman other than just 'Noman' or 'Newb'. At least in first-person I have 'I' and 'me'. I don't know. Give me your feedback.
The Endward Cult has revealed itself in the form of Lieutenant Leadstripe! You can probably identify him from back in Chapter 28. They're not to be trifled with. Especially with those dagger skills.
The Chapter's title is a pun on the word skulduggery, which means underhanded behavior or trickery. It kinda fit with Leadstripe's deceit as well as the fact he had a skull and dagger.
The Lord names and who suggested them are as follows: Meriwether from Slenderbrine, and Longcoat and Harrisfield from AxeHelix.
As for Ciro, the guy killing off competition for the Voda Shlem, Noman might have to deal with him soon. That is, if Leadstripe doesn't kill him first.
And for the record, my eye has healed up nicely. Though I can never open a ginger ale bottle the same way again...
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Omake: Fifty Shades of Chicken (IV)
"Henrietta!"
"Bruck Bruck!"
Bryan ran up to the fence trapping his beloved and several dozen nameless chickens and splintered it with great force. The chickens, kept confined for so long, poured forth in a surge of feathers.
Bryan took the brunt of this surge as he fought his way to his fiancé. He scooped her up in his hands and performed an overjoyed twirl while holding her up. Then he brought her close to his chest in a passionate hug. "Oh, Henrietta. I'm so sorry…"
"Bruck." Henrietta forgave easily, nuzzling into his face.
"I had no idea how far Henifer was willing to go to get back together with me." Bryan sniffled before chuckling to himself. "I guess you can say I'm a 'chick' magnet. Eh? OW!"
At that terrible pun, Henrietta had pecked Bryan in the eye; A punishment for a pun so terrible. Not to mention horribly inappropriate given the circumstances.
"…Too soon, then?" Bryan chuckled sheepishly while rubbing at his eye. "Well, let's get you out of here."
"Bock Bock Bock."
At those 'Bocks', Bryan whipped his head up and scanned for the snow-white feathers of his ex.
Then, near a control panel on some scaffolding, he spotted her.
Henifer.
"Henifer!? My ex-girlfriend!? What a shocking turn of events!" Bryan couldn't help but shout before Henrietta slapped him with a wing. "Sorry, force of habit—Anyway, if you came here to watch my fiancé get roasted, I'm afraid you're too late!" Bryan paused before adding, "Bitch!" for good measure.
"Bock." Henifer replied smugly before jumping onto a wooden button on the control panel . "Bock Bock. Bock BOCK!"
Suddenly, the floor of the chicken pen began to open up, revealing a boiling vat of lava below. What little chickens still left in the center of the pen quickly fell in before being cooked alive.
With little time to save both himself and his fiancé, Bryan did the only noble thing he could. He tossed Henrietta over the fence to safety right as the floor opened up beneath him. He threw out a hand in an attempt to grab something to save himself and his hand found the fence posts.
Hanging onto the posts for dear life, Bryan dared not look down for fear of looking at his own doom.
"Bock! Bock! Bock Bock Bock!" Henifer rolled around laughing. It seemed like this was her plan all along. Henrietta was merely bait to lure Bryan to a death by lava. Punishment for breaking up with her.
What. A. Bitch.
"Henifer! Quit acting like a Yandere! Some people find it hot, but I find it a tad off-putting!"
She spared a cold glance towards Bryan. "Bock. Bock."
"Don't give me that!" Bryan shouted in reply while trying to pull himself up. "This is exactly why we broke up in the first place! You were always trying to kill me whenever I looked at another chicken! That and I hated your taste in music too!"
"BOCK!" Henifer squawked as if struck. Then she narrowed her eyes before turning around and firing an egg right at Bryan's face.
"Peh! Peh! Just because the truth hurts, doesn't mean you should be firing eggs at me!"
"Bock!" Just as Henifer was about to fire another projectile, Henrietta clambered upon the control panel and leveled a challenging stare towards Henifer.
"Bruck Bruck." Henrietta cracked her neck before keeping herself low to the ground and poised to attack.
"Bock." Henifer replied before getting into the same stance.
Bryan gasped as he watched that entire exchange. "It's a Catfight! Only instead of cats, they're chickens. So…a Chickenfight!"
It would be a fight to the death. One in which the winner would decide Bryan's fate.
So Bryan watched, as a spectator, while his ex-girlfriend and his fiancé leaped at each other, fury burning in both of their eyes. And as their wings met in combat—
"Cobbert!"
Cobb groaned as he was forced to tear his eyes away from the book. Right at the best part. "What is it, Lenz? I'm trying to read a sophisticated and intelligent book here!"
One of the guards had recommended the Fifty Shades of Chicken Saga and loaned it to Cobb. The reason being that Cobb reminded the guard so much of Bryan with all the kooky antics both of them got into.
Honestly, Cobb couldn't see the similarities. Though Henifer kinda reminded him of Carys. What with the whole' trying to burn Bryan in lava' thing and being batshit crazy.
"Help!" Lenz whined from afar. "I am being inundated with Mobs!"
"So shoot them with your bow!" Cobb called back, reluctantly setting the book down and withdrawing his sword. "Also what's 'inundated' mean?"
"I cannot shoot them! They are too close! Help!"
Cobb groaned before rushing off to help his tinted-spectacled friend.
He'd have to finish the saga another time.
AN: Would anyone be mad if I just ended the saga there?