AN: I don't know who sent the review (actually, I'm pretty damn sure since it's something they would do) but yeah, this is Chapter 69. Just the fact that someone sent that made me laugh.
I completely forgot to mention that I passed 500,000 words. Yay!
Oh, also, I set up a new poll. It's on my profile near the top and it's a Character popularity contest. I figured to set it up just for the heck of it. Vote on your favorite My Craft characters. There's not a lot of memorable ones, but it's up to you, the viewer, to decide which one you like the best. Everyone gets one vote, so check out my profile to cast them.
This Chapter is jam-packed with action! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft. If I did, I'd fix the weird sign-in problems.
Beta: Void of Shining Darkness
Chapter 69
High-Moon Tombs
Soul took sharp breaths that left him in angry hisses as he sprinted to keep up with the soon-to-be-dead cultist.
He couldn't even begin to describe his wrath after witnessing what those bastards did to Attila and her community. All of those people—and everything that girl had to endure—it meant nothing to those cultists. And he couldn't stand that. But that wasn't all that was fueling his anger.
The very sight of those black leather caps brought his blood to a boil. They were the same caps that all cultists wore. Just like the cultists that took Silent away forever.
He had already vowed to destroy the Endward Cult, but seeing those caps had been a different story. It was the first time he had seen one since the incident, and just the sight of it had triggered him into an unrelenting fury. The grip he had on his axe was unnaturally tight and his muscles were eager to rip those assholes a new asshole. He had forgotten about his own comrades and ignored the possibility of danger. All he focused on was the deaths of every cultist he came across.
None of them would be left alive.
As Soul followed the cultist through the desolate streets of Nitebane, he noticed that the buildings were beginning to thin out. Instead of the densely packed skyscrapers, the streets were lines with smaller building and houses. They were just as dilapidated as the skyscrapers, but it looked more like a suburb than the urban jungle he was used to. Remembering the map Cara showed, Soul guessed the cultist was running towards the outskirts of Nitebane.
The cultist he was chasing glanced behind him, looking panicked, before darting between some ruined houses. Soul pursued, following the tail of his shirt as it slipped around corners, over fences, and through crumbling holes.
The one advantage Soul had on the cultist was that the guy didn't seem to know where he was running to. Soul didn't know where he was either, but he was only following. The cultist, on the other hand, would turn one way, pause, and then backtrack as if he had met a dead end, costing him precious time that Soul used to close the distance.
It got to the point where Soul was only a few meters away, his axe was raised and ready, aimed right at the center of the bastard's back.
The cultist took that moment to steal a glance and yelp at how close his pursuer was. His eyes locked onto the axe, even as his hands dove to his belt.
So preoccupied with Soul, the cultist didn't even notice the broken fence until it had clothes-lined him in the face, sending him sprawled onto his back. The action saved him, since Soul's axe chopped into the fence where his back had been just a moment ago.
"Augh!" The cultist clutched his nose as he whipped out a splash potion. Soul was too slow to dodge, taking the unknown potion to the face. However, he was more than content to drive his axe into the defenseless cultist's arm.
The axe-wielder raised his weapon to attack again, only for his movements to slow substantially. A Splash Potion of Slowness.
The cultist pressed his advantage, slashing Soul across the chest and shoving him away before scurrying past the broken fence and out of sight.
"Get back here, coward!" Soul roared as he tried to give chase. Unfortunately, the potion's effects were too debilitating. For every step he took, the cultist could take ten. It frustrated him, but he knew he had to wait for the potion to subside.
That didn't stop him from inching over to the fence to try and locate the bastard. It was easy enough. Past the fence the landscape turned rocky, interspersed with bits of dirt and gravel. The wind was blowing much stronger, and the air smelled of salt, alerting him to the fact that the seaside cliffs were nearby. He really had reached the outskirts of Nitebane.
As rocky as the land was, it was generally flat and barren, lacking the stone juts to the west. So it wasn't hard to spot the moonlit silhouette rushing towards a lonely stone building a ways from the cliffs.
Got you now, asshole.
Soul leaned against the fence, sluggishly moving his arms against the effects of the slowness. He replenished his Hunger Meter and took stock of his last remaining Strength Potion and Splash Potion of Harming. He didn't think he'd need them for one measly cultist, but having them with him didn't hurt. He made sure everything combat-related was at his belt, ready to be drawn. When he had it all properly sorted, he watched the timer showing his slowness effect slowly tick by. Each second feeling like an eternity to his agitated state.
I'm gonna kill him. He thought to himself. I'm gonna kill him… and any cultists that are with him.
He was chomping at the bit, glaring hungrily at the lonely building by the cliffs. There was no doubt in his mind what he would do. They deserved it after all.
How many Crafters lived in that skyscraper community? How many had to die for the cult's stupid cause? He thought he wouldn't care about people that weren't his own, but getting to know Attila's struggle and how much the people cared for her and meant to her...
And to just wipe them all out.
It made him gnash his teeth so tightly he thought they would shatter. He was furious. And he'd never get over the broken look on that girl's face.
When Silent was slain and Floyd fled, he had felt alone, sure, but he had transformed it into anger. A burning fury that strengthened him and ensured his own survival.
But for Attila… she lost everything. Everything she strived to protect for nearly four-hundred years. Her community… she had killed for them. Sacrificed for them. Would have given anything for them. Would have fought Hackers for them…
All that struggle… and the result was their deaths…
Grief was too weak a word to describe what she must be going through.
And unlike him, she didn't have the energy to convert that grief into a stronger emotion. She couldn't make that weakness into strength.
In the race of her life, her legs had just… given out.
But Soul's legs were still strong. And he was going to avenge that community… and Silent… and every other Crafter hurt by those bastards. He'd avenge them all by making it his life mission to see the Endward Cult burn.
The last second of slowness ticked away; the signal for the axe-wielder to sprint towards the lonely stone building where the cultist had fled.
In his haste, however, he missed a small wooden sign that indicated the location ahead of him.
'High-Moon Tombs.'
[High-Moon Tombs]
"Sigh."
A young woman with long teal-blue hair, made a dramatic gesture of sighing, going so far as to say the actual action. Her long hair was done in a bouncy waste-length ponytail, held up by a simple pink band, with shoulder length bangs that framed her innocent-looking face. Her hair also had light blue highlights designed in a spiral that wound up her left bang before ending in a spiral along her forehead.
Usually her large eyes, shimmering with an upbeat excitement, were a vibrant blue with just a hint of mischief. However, tonight, having to spend her time in a creepy-ass cemetery for the Endward Cult, her eyes were subdued and dull. She lay upon one of the gravestones with a put-upon pout.
"Siiiiiigh." She whined louder, stretching out the vowel as she tossed and turned atop the gravestone before finally draping her arm over her eyes. The surrounding six cultists continued to ignore her, knowing that to make eye contact would be analogous to entertaining her childish whims.
The teal-haired woman peeked out from under her arm, only to puff out her cheeks upon seeing that she was indeed still being ignored.
*Inhale*
"SssssssssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggggggggghhhhaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH—!"
"Is something wrong, Lieutenant Teal?" One of the cultists relented, his eye twitching as the woman stopped her thrashing and noise as soon as someone paid attention to her.
"Oh," she muttered somberly, her eyes watering slightly, "it's nothing, I suppose…"
"Good to hear." The cultist took the opportunity to break off the conversation, turning away immediately.
Teal shot up, her eyes no longer watering. "Wait! I was joking! It's not nothing. I'm bored. So so bored. So bored you could surf me. Play with me."
"Lieutenant," the cultist shifted uncomfortably. "I know this mission isn't as pulse-pounding as I'm certain you're used to… but don't you think our skills would be better suited for combat rather than…" He let loose a groan. "…rock-paper-scissors?"
The young woman took a moment to ponder that, her tongue sticking out cutely between her lips. "Hmmm… nope. Now come on, best two out of three."
"Lieutenant Teal—"
"Pleeeeeease—wait a second…" She held up her hands as if just realizing something. "I'm the Lieutenant here, and you're just my humble cultist, right?"
"…Y-yeah…"
Teal wore a smug look as she placed one hand on her hip and pointed at the cultist dramatically. "Then I order you, with all the authority my fabulous blue hair commands, to entertain me with a game of rock-paper-scissors. Or Eye-Spy. Or whatever else you can think of, I'm not picky, so long as it passes the time."
The cultist let loose a weary groan. "Yes, Lieutenant Teal."
"Yay!" Teal clapped giddily as she skipped over and readied her right hand. The cultist stood opposite her, mirroring her moves. The other cultists thanked their stars that another poor sucker had been chosen instead of them. Entertaining the Lieutenant could be exhausting. Rumors said that only Lieutenant MarkAble could manage for a full day without tiring.
"Rock… Paper… Scissors… Shoot!"
Both the Lieutenant and the cultist pulled out rock, prompting them to go again.
"Rock… Paper… Scissors… Shoot!"
This time, the Lieutenant went for paper, defeating the cultist's formidable rock.
"You know," she smirked as she readied her fist again, "you'd think this game would get renamed, what with there being no scissors in Minecraftia."
"It is one of those intrinsic games ingrained in every Crafter's mind." The cultist replied, throwing out scissors to defeat the Lieutenant's paper.
"Yeah, but, like, we should call it… I don't know… cobble-paper-shears?"
"…Cobble-paper-shears, ma'am?"
"Yeah, you're right. It would never catch on." She dismissed before throwing out her final move. Her eyes lit up in triumph. "Ha! Scissors cuts paper! Victory backflip!" At those words, the boisterous woman performed a perfect backflip, with an added twirl for flare.
The cultist laughed in relief. "Well, you've proven to be the better gamer. I concede to y—"
He was cut off as Teal appeared, her vibrant blue eyes inches from the cultist's face. "Don't give up! Come on, double or nothing."
"Oh no no no." The cultist shook his head frantically. "I… um…" His eyes strayed to his fellow brethren. "I heard that Payal over there absolutely adores playing Eye Spy with you… he's just a tad shy."
"Don't push her off on me—I mean, uh…" Payal stuttered as he backed away from an eager Teal.
"Aww! There's no need to be shy around me." Teal smiled innocently. "I'm an open kind of gal and an expert in Eye Spy." The woman was already glancing around the cemetery, searching for a suitable object.
"Lieutenant Teal," a cultist raised his hand tentatively. "Need I remind you we're on a mission. There's no time for games—mmph!"
Teal had crossed the distance in an instant, clamping her hand over the cultist's mouth with vice-like tightness. "There's always time for games." She threatened lowly. Her blue eyes were no longer sparkling with glee. They were as serious as sapphires. "Now nod your head to show you understand."
His pupils dilated in fear, the cultist quickly nodded to divert the Lieutenant's anger.
"Good!" Teal chirped happily as her face regained its child-like innocence and she removed her hand. "Oooh oooh oooh! I know! How about I play with my newest toy~?"
At those words, she turned to the only other Crafter not wearing an Endward Cult black-leather cap: The smuggler, Larril.
"For the last time, I'm not your FUCKING TOY!" The smuggler shouted. He thrashed around as angrily as a man with two broken legs could manage.
"The action phrases on this doll are pretty annoying." Teal mocked as she sauntered over to him. "Do I need to re-break those pesky legs of yours~?"
The smuggler was visibly cowed as he kept his head low, avoiding direct contact with the she-devil. "N-no… ma'am."
Teal smiled and patted his head. "Good boy. Play your cards right and you might live to see a few more sunrises."
"B-but that wasn't the deal we made." He argued.
"Oh~?"
"I… I-I gave you the location of that community. I gave you all those Crafters to kill! The deal was to let me go afterward—"
"I don't recall making a pinky promise on that." Teal mock pondered as she tilted her head. "And for the record, I saw those people. Too stringy and weak." She dismissed with a wave. "I wouldn't have any fun hunting Crafters like them, and in the middle of a mission, where would I find the time to bring them with me? It was a major let-down." She grinned mischievously as she knelt down and pinched the smuggler by his cheek. "You're different though. You and your smugglers were a barrel of fun and I'm sure you won't disappoint for my next Survival Game."
Larril felt his blood drain at those words while also flushing in embarrassment over how Teal was pinching his cheeks as if her were a baby.
"Ga-gu-bu-gi-gu-ba-ga."
The baby talk didn't help.
"S-so you're not going to kill me now?" Larril asked, terrified for his safety.
"Mmmm… Nope!" Teal released him, standing up straight. "Can't speak for later, though."
"Th-then why take me to a cemetery?"
Teal blinked at that, taking a moment to make the connection. "Ooooh… Yeah, I can see why you'd think that." She turned and hopped up onto another gravestone. "See, we're here because of something super duper important discussed at one of our cult's Gatherings." She held her arms out and walked along the gravestones like they were a balance beam. "Some centuries-old book with instructions from our founder or something… I don't know, Abyssmal wasn't very specific."
"Maybe," a cultist spoke aloud, "if you actually went to the Gathering instead of goofing off—"
"Hindsight!" She swung her arm as if to make the hindsight go away. The movement caused her to lose her balance and teeter on the edge of the gravestones. Before she could fall, she pushed herself off and bounced off another set of gravestones before righting herself on the original set. A few cultists clapped in praise, causing Teal to take a dramatic bow.
"Anywho, the book mentioned a certain location here at the High-Moon Tombs. And because I missed the stupid Gathering, I was voted to visit this gloomy-ass cemetery in this gloomy-ass Kingdom to scout it out. Pretty gloomy, right?"
She didn't wait for Larril's answer as she looked up at the moonlit sky. "Is it almost midnight yet?"
"Yes, ma'am." One of the cultists was watching a clock intently. "Nearly there, ma'am. Nearly there."
"Ugggghhhh, but 'nearly there' is like twenty years." She groaned into her hands as she flopped onto the gravestones once more. "If something interesting doesn't happen soon, I'm gonna set off enough fireworks to alert every Griefer in Nitebane."
"Please don't."
"Imma do it."
"Don't you do it!"
"Too late, I'm doing it!"
"Teal!"
It wasn't one of the nearest cultists who shouted that, even as the Lieutenant already lit fireworks that left a purple trail of sparkles soaring through the air, followed by a loud, colorful burst.
"Lieutenant Teal!" It was one of the cultists she had sent to explode and burn down that community of Crafters. Emphasis on one of them.
"Zach?" Teal raised an eyebrow at the lone cultist and his injured and sweaty appearance. "Did you have wild crazy sex again?"
"Wha—? No! No… not this time—NO! Off-topic!" He shook his head to clear it. "We killed all the Crafters in that community, just like you told us, but then some other Crafters showed up!"
"Griefers?" Teal questioned with an eye-roll. They should have been able to handle those tenderfoots.
"No, that's the thing." Zach continued. "They weren't Griefers. They were too strong for that."
Teal's ears perked at that. "Strong you say?"
Zach nodded. "They must have been the stronger warriors of that community or something."
"Stronger warriors?" Her interest was sparking. "How strong?"
"They killed Connor and Reyn. And there were… four or five of them, I think."
If Teal felt any sadness towards the loss of two of her cultists, she didn't show it. If anything, she looked eager to hear of potential Crafters for her Survival Games. The stronger ones were always the most fun for her to toy with.
"One of them followed me, but I managed to lose him before I got here." Teal's eager thoughts came to a screeching halt. "He was pretty mad too. Nearly killed me with his axe. If he's smart, he'll run back to his comrades and forget about—"
Teal set off several more of her loudest and brightest fireworks. They shot up into the sky, illuminating it brightly for any Griefer or incensed Crafter to see for miles.
"Lieutenant! What are you doing!? Someone's gonna see!"
"Yoohoo! Angry axe-guy!" Teal shouted loudly in a sing-song tone. "Wherever you are, I'm awfully sorry that I ordered your community be blasted and burned to the ground! Hope you're not too upset over all your dead friends and stuff! If you want to talk about how bad you feel, I'd be willing to listen… in the Moon-High Tombs—you know that cemetery with the lonely stone building by the cliffs—yeah, I'm standing smack dab in the middle! Mocking you looooudly!"
She paused in her shouting, twisting her head this way and that, wondering if the mysterious axe-guy heard her taunt.
She cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted again. "Hope you're not being a chicken~! Chicken chicken chicken!" She giggled in amusement. "I bet you and the rest of your community were chickens too! And they got toasted to a nice golden brown, yeah?" She hoped that if the Crafter was as angry as her cultist said he was, she could get a rise out of him. "Mmhmhm, tasty cooked chicken is the best! Well, since you can practically call me the winner over that community, I can gladly say, winner winner, chicken din—!"
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and quickly leapt back to avoid the axe swing aimed at her head. She smiled gleefully at the axe and the forwardness of this new toy. This would be fun.
"Shut your fucking mouth!" The Crafter had brown hair with the name Lost_Soul hovering over his head. A little unoriginal, but not everyone had as amazing a name as hers.
"Why don't you come over her and shut it for me~?" Teal taunted, taking up a loose fighting stance.
The other cultists armed themselves and moved to surround the axe-wielder. His cold crimson eyes swiveled to keep track of them all. Seems like jumping right in was an impulse on his part.
That was fine by Teal.
"Don't touch him." She called out, causing the cultists to pause and back away. "I shouldn't have much trouble one-on-one."
"Took the words right out of my MOUTH!" The axe-wielder charged, particles of a Strength Potion shimmering off of him.
Teal smirked as she carefully watched the approaching axe blade. She could see the sheer brute strength rippling off the Crafter in waves. She could also feel his intensity. His anger.
Child's play…
As the axe came crashing down, the Lieutenant ducked and rolled beneath Soul's arm. She felt the force of the axe impact the ground behind her, before she twisted her body and stood at full height behind him. The action lasted about two seconds.
Teal giggled to herself as she took the opportunity to playfully poke the axe-wielder in the back of the head. He recoiled at the touch as if he were burned before flipping his axe into a backhanded grip and swinging at the woman's mischievous grin.
A quick crouch had the attack sail over her head, but Soul had his other fist reared back for a follow-up punch. He aimed for her lower jaw, intending to stun her.
Teal's hand shot up instead, catching the fist and clamping down upon it. Soul's eyes widened in surprise at how she could block an attack strengthened by a potion.
Teal's eyes sparkled with amusement at his dumbfounded expression. "Oh, dear. I hope you're not going easy on little old me."
Soul gnashed his teeth together before flipping his axe back into its original position and swinging it towards the Lieutenant.
Teal leaned her head back just enough to leave a fraction of space between the axe swing and her nose. After it passed, her other hand clamped down on the axe-wielder's arm, immobilizing both of his limbs.
"What now~?" She sing-songed, leaning forward to grin cheekily into Soul's face.
His face twisted in fury as he desperately tried to pull himself free or overpower the woman. The problem was, she wasn't giving him any leverage. His arm and fist were clasped so tightly that he couldn't get free.
"Let… go!" He snarled as he aimed a knee towards the woman's side. Teal quirked an eyebrow, effortlessly raising her own knee to block the attack. Soul lowered his leg to try again, only for Teal to press her foot against his, pinning it to the ground.
"Well, you got one leg left." Teal suggested with that same irritating grin. "You gonna try for another kick?"
"Damn right I—!" Soul paused when he tried to lift his leg, only to look down and find that Teal had already pinning it with her other foot.
"Hmhmhm." Teal giggled. "You're such a hothead. I love it."
"How… What kind of potion are you using!?" Soul struggled, unable to get free of the blue-haired woman.
"I'm not using anything. Just my own unbeatable charisma~!" She smiled watching Soul try and pull away with all his strength before she released him. It was so sudden that the axe-wielder stumbled back, his arms waving desperately to regain his balance, before his head cracked against a tombstone. "Oops."
Soul clutched his head painfully as he pushed himself up. So furious was he over the teasing that steam was practically pouring from his ears. "You… you're that Lieutenant, aren't you? Teal_Larkspur!"
"Oh, so you've heard of me? I'm flattered." She fidgeted as if to play coy. "They've all been good things, right?"
"Just that you're a psychopath that toys with your victims."
Teal's smile morphed into a discontented frown before she regained her cheerful smile. "Well… that's half-true I guess. I don't consider myself a psychopath."
"Most psychopaths don't."
"But I do love playing games with Crafters." Teal continued, ignoring Soul's latest remark. "Especially with Crafters who think they're hot shit. I just adore the way they try and fight while I effortlessly embarrass and outclass them. It's the best~!"
"Then why did you kill that community!?" Soul fired back, charging the Lieutenant with his axe. "Why hurt people who couldn't fight!?"
Teal shrugged indifferently, giving off a cocky smirk to enrage Soul even more. "Why not?"
"GRAH! YAH! GAH!" Again and again, Soul's axe swung. Teal dodged each one by a fraction on purpose, giving the axe-wielder the idea that he could almost hit her when really he would never come close. She was already playing with him. A game of tag in which he was always It.
"Aww, did I touch a nerve?" Teal taunted, weaving between his attacks effortlessly. Even as the axe-wielder tried to shut her up, her sing-song voice kept assaulting his ears. "Were they your friends that I had killed? It wasn't anything personal. Hell, I didn't know any of them. But I knew enough to see they were no fun, and therefore no use to me. Who likes to play with broken toys, right?"
"SHUT UP!" Soul feinted with an axe swing before charging the Lieutenant in a full-body tackle.
He may as well have been blowing bubbles for all the damage it did.
Teal met his charge before feinting herself, sidestepping around the axe-wielder and taking his unguarded back. Her arms slid beneath his shoulders, and behind his head in a full nelson. Soul let out a yelp of surprise before he tried to struggle free. It was useless.
Teal's taunting smile pressed close to Soul's ear as she continued to goad him. "Well, Lost_Soul? You're in quite the pickle." He growled and thrashed, but Teal held firm. "All your fallen friends are counting on you to avenge them and slay the dastardly psychopath that I am. And yet here you are, helpless to do anything."
"NGHHH!" She delighted in the frustration he exuded. It was times like these that made her truly feel alive.
"I'm standing right behind you," her voice continued to taunt, "and yet you can't even land a punch. If you were that community's best fighter, it's no wonder they all died."
His breathing was coming out in sharp, labored breaths as his hatred for her grew. "You have no idea what those people meant…" He growled lowly as he strained his muscles to break free. Teal's hold remained firm. "You and your cultists haven't the faintest clue… about what a life means!"
"Oh?"
"Our lives are more than just to be your playthings!" Soul argued as he tried to turn his head to face her. "And that's why I'll kill you and every other cultist in—"
*CRACK*
With a sharp twist, Teal snapped his neck, causing the axe-wielder to go limp. He wasn't dead—the damage would be fixed when his Health ticked back up. But he wouldn't be able to move anything for a bit.
Teal released him, letting him fall face-first into the ground, paralyzed. Soul's eyes were wide in shock, losing all of their former fury. "W-what…?"
Teal crouched low beside him, tilting his head to look at her. "Sorry, I cut you off there. You were saying?" She smiled mockingly at him. "Something about killing me, right?"
Soul didn't look to be listening. His eyes were darting frantically as he tried to move his body. He was only met with increasingly troubling failure. "W-what… what did you…?"
Teal giggled, ruffling his hair. "Hmhmhm. Now where's all that bravado you had just a second ago? Did it break along with your neck~?"
Teal continued to taunt him, but Soul was too lost in his own thoughts to listen. For most of his existence as a Crafter, he had trained to be strong. He valued Strength Potions as the ultimate brew, he was cold and ruthless to any enemy he saw, and he dispatched them quickly and efficiently.
But tonight, he had been rendered helpless a total of three times by this one woman. He had infused himself with a Potion of Strength, and yet had been unable to land a single blow on her. Even now, she continued to taunt and toy with him, as if she never even considered him a threat.
It was just as Attila had warned him.
'Teal is by no means a small fry. Underestimating her in battle is a bad idea.'
He had shrugged it off at the time, classifying Teal as just another small-fry.
But now he understood the scope of her abilities.
Now he fully understood the scope of the Endward Cult's abilities. If someone as strong as her was someone else's underling, that meant that the Executives were a lot stronger. Maybe even leagues stronger.
He had grossly underestimated her.
"Looks like you get it now." Teal let go of Soul, noticing how the fury in his eyes died out. She let out a disappointed sigh. "Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. But who knows," she smirked down at him, "maybe you'll rekindle that entertaining anger for the Survival Games. I can't wait~!"
With a snap of her fingers, Soul was collected by the cultists and roughly tossed to the side along with the smuggler, Larril. The axe-wielder's eyes were glazed over in realization at how fucked he was, and there was a faint tremble of fear in his pupils.
He thought he had buried that emotion. But after witnessing what Teal could do…
For the first time… he was scared. And being paralyzed had nothing to do with it. Teal could kill him if she wanted to. The only reason she didn't was because she felt he was more entertaining alive than dead.
The other cultists clearly didn't share her sentiment, wanting to kill him on the spot. But orders were orders.
The cultist Soul had pursued, Zach, walked up to him and raised his boot. "Why don't you take a nice, long, rest."
Before the boot could crash into Soul's skull and render him unconscious, he had only one thought.
Please… Cara… Floyd…
Don't come for me…
[Nitebane Streets]
We're coming, Soul!
Floyd thought to himself as he, Cara, and Void rushed towards the direction Floyd had been running towards. They hoped that Soul and the cultist would be running outside Nitebane rather than deeper into the Kingdom, but they had no way to be sure. Really, they were just guessing where he might have ended up.
"There's no sign of them anywhere." Cara cursed as the group found themselves at a crossroads in the suburban outskirts of the Kingdom. "Void, see if you can get a better view from one of those houses."
The drunkard nodded, jogging over to one of the many ruined houses that lined the street and making his way onto the roof. He held up his hands to his head like binoculars and peered across the suburban area. "All I see are houses… wait!" He pointed over towards the sea-side cliffs. "Someone's launching fireworks over there. Looks to be from the… Moon-High Tombs." Seeing Floyd and Cara's perplexed expressions, he quickly explained. "The tombs are the oldest cemetery in Nitebane. Perched precariously along the cliff side."
Cara rubbed her chin in thought. "Nobody in their right mind would launch fireworks here… they'd alert every violent Griefer in Nitebane."
"So… Soul, then?" Floyd offered, earning a slap to the back of the head.
"No, even Soul's not that…" She paused as if doubting her own words before frantically shaking her head. "No, no. He's going after that cultist. Even if he had fireworks, he'd be too busy hunting to trigger any." Cara's expression turned grim. "Griefers wouldn't launch them either. There'd be no point."
"Think it's the Endward Cult?" Floyd asked hesitantly to which Cara nodded.
"It might just be… that fleeing cultist did say he needed backup and I can't imagine the three cultists we encountered were enough to destroy that community." It was more likely the cultists had attacked first, and then split up, with one group setting up TNT and fire to finish the job. "It's a long shot… but it's possible that the cult is purposefully luring Griefers to the outskirts of Nitebane to kill them."
"Well if they're luring in Griefers, I'd say it's working!" Void called down, pointing towards the urban part of the Kingdom. "I see a lot of Griefers moving in! We better move or else they'll see us!"
"If the cultists are at those tombs, then Soul's definitely there too." Floyd looked to his leader for a decision. "We have to get to him first."
"…I know." Cara bit her nail in frustration. "Damnit, Soul! Why did you have to—Void! Is there any cover at the tombs?"
"There's… um… a stone building? It was a church at one point, I think. We should be able to see the whole cemetery from the top of it."
"Then that's where we're going." Cara waved Void to come back down. "Every Griefer in Nitebane will be there in an hour, tops. We gotta get there first and hide… otherwise we'll be in for the fight of our lives."
Floyd nodded at the orders, hurrying along his leader's side as they followed Void's directions.
They passed some broken fences to a flat, stone expanse, which dropped off to some cliffs on their right-side. And then, dropping over the cliffs were some jagged rocks below and the vast ocean.
Attila had mentioned that Guardians swam in schools all along the Cliffside, and throughout the ocean. Like sharks, the things were capable of swarming Crafters and killing them. If ever a Crafter fell off and the jagged rocks didn't kill them… the Guardians most certainly would.
Perhaps that was the cultists' plan. Lure Griefers near the cliffs and then push them down. It would easily finish off the inexperienced and dim-witted Griefers.
But something told Floyd that that wasn't the case. For one, the High-Moon Tombs seemed an odd choice. Was it poetic to kill Crafters at a cemetery? The cultists wouldn't think like that.
Second, what would happen if they lured in someone stronger than a Griefer, such as a… Hacker.
Floyd stumbled on the word, thinking back to the smoke that enveloped his arms. He didn't think Cara saw that, but he certainly did. Though it had fizzled out as quickly as it had come, Floyd had no idea what had caused it in the first place.
He shook his head in confusion. He didn't know what was happening or why it was happening. But it was becoming harder and harder to deny that… that he was somehow one of those Hacker people.
That scared him more than it should have. So far, his impression of Hackers was that they were ruthless killers who flaunted a power greater than the capabilities of most Crafters. He wondered if he would end up like that too… if what he was experiencing was really a Hacker power. Would he end up a ruthless killer as well? One who slaughtered innocent Crafters and led Griefers?
The idea repulsed him.
I can't think about that while Soul is in trouble. He reasoned in his mind. And more than anything… I should keep these theories to myself. His eyes glanced to Cara and Void, and he remembered how Attila's eyes quivered in terror upon seeing the lines stretching over his eyes.
Nobody needs to know this.
When the group finally reached the cemetery, they stealthily entered the stone church. Just like everything else in Nitebane, it was in ruins. Most likely the damage was caused by Griefers rather than that monster from Attila's story. Though the church had held up better than the skyscrapers and houses, probably because there was nothing of value for the Griefers to take.
The three Silver Intent members found some stairs and quickly scurried up to the church's steeple. The windows were still intact and, true to Void's word, gave the three a view of the entire cemetery.
The High-Moon Tombs were built right up to the edge of the cliff. gravestones, crypts, and tombs were squeezed together to allow for the most use of the given space.
But then there was another structure. A tomb shaped differently than all the others. The front of it stuck out of the ground as a half-circle while the rest of it was half-buried. And sticking out of the tomb was an archway connecting a large stone circle over a clearing devoid of graves. The shining moonlight cast a circular shadow across the clearing.
"Oh, Notch, no…"
Cara muttered breathlessly as she saw a few moving shapes. Shapes that bore the distinctive black leather caps of a certain Endward Cult.
But that wasn't the only problem.
Soul was down there. Floyd could tell by the clothes and the hair. He was lying on his side, beside an unknown Crafter, and surrounded by cultists. He was definitely alive, but for how long, Floyd wasn't sure.
His heart seized in fear as he remembered what happened to Silent. It was enough to make him stand up, ready to jump in and get Soul out of there, but Cara pulled him back down.
"Not now." She hissed, pointing to something off to the side. "Look."
Floyd followed her gaze, pinpointing a band of Griefers rushing into the cemetery. Like Cara had mentioned, they were drawn to the fireworks. But Floyd failed to see how that would help.
"More Griefers will show up." She explained, desperately trying to maintain her composure. This was what being a leader came down to. She had to think on the fly to ensure they all survived. "They… they'll fight each other—the Griefers and the cultists—and then we can try and pull Soul out of there."
Void narrowed his eyes. "He looks unconscious from here. I thought he was pretty tough."
Floyd was about to argue how anyone could be defeated when outnumbered when his eyes caught sight of something else.
A flash of blue hair…
Blue hair…
'But there was a Lieutenant I worked with… she was in charge of the subdivision I was part of.'
Attila's words drifted into Floyd's mind as looked down upon the blue hair below.
'That Teal_Larkspur… she's as psychotic as they come…'
He gulped, his dread growing, as the blue-haired woman spotted the approaching Griefers and performed a little leap of joy.
'She may look like an innocent, blue-haired woman, but she's got a vicious streak a mile-wide…'
"Blue… haired…"
"Floyd?" Cara questioned, noticing the blue-nette's paleness. "What's wrong?"
"We're screwed…"
"Huh? What do you—"
"If I'm right," he pointed to the blue-haired woman who began to engage the Griefers below, "then that woman is Teal_Larkspur, the Lieutenant Attila spoke about."
"…What?" Cara looked between Floyd and the woman beating up Griefers with her bare fists. She was fighting them all on her own, the cultists with her hanging back near Soul and the other unknown Crafter. "But… the chances of us hearing about her and then her showing up—"
"Forget the chances." Void muttered in shock. "Look at her! She's tearing those Griefers apart!"
The trio watched as the blue-haired woman flipped onto a gravestone before bouncing off a Griefer's head and delivering a devastating drop kick to a pair of Griefers. She was nearly a blur as she darted around her opponents, letting loose an airy giggle as if she were having a blast.
"She's not wearing a black cap like the other cultists." Floyd noted. "I… I really think she's her—Teal, I mean."
"That… is a bit of an issue…" Cara admitted lamely as she desperately tried to maintain her composure. "But… but even a Lieutenant couldn't handle all those Griefers alone. She'll tire eventually. After all, there's no way she could do that all night."
"I can literally do this all night!" Teal shouted giddily as if to contradict Cara's argument.
The Griefers charged her ten at a time, yet she dodged each and every strike just barely. At first, Floyd thought it was because she was lucky. But then he realized, by her cocky grin, that she was doing it on purpose.
It's just like Attila said. Floyd thought. She's a thrill seeker, toying with her opponent's. Playing games with them.
Teal delivered a sharp knee to a Griefer's jaw and grabbed the limp body to use as a shield for another Griefer's attack. Teal held her hands up in mock apology as the body died and fizzled out of existence. Floyd could practically hear the innocent 'Oops' the Lieutenant would offer over the action.
"…She's not tiring." Void pointed out.
"I know!" Cara hissed, biting her nail in an effort to think up a new plan. Rushing in was clearly a bad idea while that giddy Lieutenant was in the throngs of battle.
"How is she doing that anyway?" Floyd asked, watching the Lieutenant rush at two Griefers, only to feint and sidestep them at the last second, taking their backs and delivering a series of crippling punches.
"It's strafing." Void muttered as he took a sip from his bottle. The action was reminiscent of eating popcorn at the movies. "The technique she's using—at least one of them—is definitely strafing."
Floyd raised an eyebrow, only for Cara to step in with an explanation. "It's a combat tactic used by Crafters that value speed over strength." Her eyes were glued to the fighting below as more Griefers charged the giggling Teal. "You charge straight at an opponent, making them think you want a head-on-head contest of strength. Then, at the last second, you up your speed, feint, and move to the left or the right. If done correctly—as Teal is so aptly demonstrating at the moment—your opponent will have struck at nothing, and you'll be in a prime position to dish out damage."
Floyd watched carefully as Teal did just that. She charged an opponent, grinning cheekily, and just as they were swinging their sword, she feinted and sped up to the side, skidding behind them and lashing out with a kick that killed her opponent.
"And that's not all she's using." Void advised grimly. "Normally, using a sword would be better for dealing damage. But she's just using her fists, kicks, knees, elbows… her whole body is a weapon. That suggests she's a prodigy at hand-to-hand combat." His eyes narrowed as he watched her bend backwards to dodge a horizontal strike before pushing off the ground and performing a backflip that evaded a volley of arrows. "Not to mention, she's quite agile and… slippery."
"No wonder Soul was defeated." Cara cursed. "He's all about strength and not the most even-tempered of Crafters, even without Attila's community hanging over his head; A poor matchup against that Lieutenant."
"Can we stop with the play-by-play commentary!?" Floyd gestured below. "Attila said that Teal kidnaps Crafters and takes them to an abandoned island—"
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"—Where she then hunts them down for sport!"
"That sounds bad."
"Bad for Soul if we don't get him out of there and fast." He turned to Cara. "So, what's the plan?"
"I-I-I don't know!" Cara admitted, wracking her brain for an idea. "The cultists are on their guard and Teal is far beyond our skill. We'd end up like those Griefers if we tried anything."
"I'm getting kind of bored of this!" Teal shouted as she choked out two Griefers at once while snapping another's leg in two. "Time for my special cap!"
Floyd, Cara, and Void watched as Teal rummaged in her backpack before withdrawing something: A simple light blue leather cap.
"What's she doing now?" Cara wondered aloud as the Lieutenant deposited the cap on her forehead, the light blue matching her own hair color. "It's not even dyed black."
"You Griefers are in for a real treat!" Teal boasted as she posed with the cap atop her head. Her cultists, seeing the cap, quickly distanced themselves, carrying Soul and the unknown Crafter with them.
Why are they backing up? Floyd wondered as he watched the Lieutenant skip towards the Griefers. They, similarly, had no idea what difference a light blue leather cap would make. So they charged her all the same.
Soul watched them leap at her, their swords drawn, and as if in slow-motion they descended upon her to…
…
…Wait, he wasn't imagining that.
They were actually moving in slow-motion.
They were slowly—painfully slowly—descending towards the smirking woman who continued to move at her regular pace. The Griefers' eyes widened in shock at their own sluggish, snail's pace. It was as if someone had hit them with a Potion of Slowness… even though Teal made no such move.
"…What's going on, Void?" Cara questioned nervously. "Did she throw a potion so fast I missed it or—"
"She didn't throw anything…" Void's eyes narrowed. "I-I don't know what's going on down there."
They watched as Teal strutted over to the Griefers still suspended in some weird slowness effect, and punched them both in the gut. They felt the pain, but were moving so slowly that even the force behind the Lieutenant's punches wasn't enough to speed them up. They were still slow.
"There's… there are particles…" Void narrowed his eyes further to get a better look. "Blue particles surrounding Teal… like a dome. A radius? I-I can't explain it."
Floyd saw them too. Blue particles that spanned a six-meter radius around the Lieutenant. The Griefers were within the radius, and therefore affected by whatever odd slowness effect Teal was using. But blue particles usually meant Swiftness or Night Vision. Not Slowness. And to make a potion force-field like that? Was that even possible?
He'd never seen anything like it. And apparently, neither had Cara or Void.
"What… what could she possibly be using?" Cara's eyes zeroed in on the light blue leather cap as Teal dispatched three more Griefers who had wandered into her field. "That cap… that must be what's doing this…"
"But there's no such enchantment that can imbue armor with potion effects!" Void exclaimed. "Such a thing is impossible!"
"I know…" Cara frowned as she watched the Lieutenant continue to slay Griefers. "It's… I don't even know… It's an unknown item."
After witnessing their fellow Griefers getting torn apart, slain, beaten up, and now slowed to the point where Teal could walk right up to them, take their weapon, and kill them with it, the Griefers had unanimously decided that the blue-haired vixen was a monster. They all backed away, intending to flee, but Teal wasn't quite done with them.
Seeing her prey try and flee, she sprinted after them, moving her slowness field along with her. Any Griefer captured inside of it would be mercilessly beaten and killed before she moved on to the next.
The Griefers panicked, splitting up and hiding amongst the gravestones while the blue-haired woman pursued. Again and again she killed, grinning like a madwoman and laughing loudly into the night air. The excitement was palpable in her voice as it carried up to the church's steeple and chilled the Silver Intent trio to the bone.
They were immensely glad to have hidden themselves so well. Any plan on going down to rescue Soul had been dashed by that blue-haired Lieutenant's display of violence.
She broke arms and legs. Skulls and sternums. Noses and backs. She was a hurricane of broken limbs and whimpering Griefers, frightening off any that had been lured by the fireworks.
Floyd couldn't believe he actually considered that they'd be merciful and just push Griefers off the cliffs. Having Teal tear them apart was far worse.
"C'mon, you weenies!" Teal taunted with a mad gleam in her eyes. "I just started having fun! Don't be shy~!"
However, before her carnage could continue, one of the other cultists called out to her, waving a golden clock.
Teal instantly stopped her barrage, pouting as she let the remaining Griefers run away. She groaned as she pulled off the light blue cap, dispersing the slowness field surrounding her. "Time flies when you're having fun." She spoke aloud, walking back towards the tomb where the other Griefers were stationed.
Why'd she stop so suddenly? Floyd wondered. True the carnage had gone on long enough, but if Teal was the Lieutenant, she should be ordering herself rather than listening to the cultists under her. What did he say to get her to stop? And why wave a clock around unless you'd be worried about the… time…
"Cara…" Floyd whispered. "What time is it?"
Cara raised an eyebrow. "I don't see how the time has anything to do with—"
"What time is it?" Floyd pressed, ignoring Cara's interruption.
The purple-haired leader looked confused, but didn't argue further as she withdrew her own clock. "Midnight."
"On the dot?"
"Yeah? Why do you—?"
Suddenly, over by the half-circle tomb, something began to happen. The moon, perfectly above them in the sky, shone down upon the stone arches and tomb. The shadow created by the moonlight outlined a perfect circle over the clearing of graves. And then, as if in response, a door opened up along the side of the half-circle tomb.
The Moon-High Tombs. Floyd realized to himself. It's more than just a catchy name… when the moon is high, the tomb opens up…
And he had the sneaking suspicion that that was exactly what the cultists were after.
"Oooh! Neat!" Teal chirped happily at the display as she and two other cultists stepped past the newly opened threshold into the mysterious tomb. As if they were waiting for it all along. However, Teal poked her head back to point at the remaining cultists. "Don't you boys get into any trouble while we're gone~!" She sing-songed. Floyd would have found the gesture childish, but after seeing how frightening Teal was in battle, he could understand why the cultists nodded along loyally.
It wouldn't be wise to get on that psycho's bad side.
Teal disappeared into the tomb, leaving five cultists behind to guard both the tomb and the two captive Crafters.
Cara's eyes sparked with an idea, and she stood to her full height, pulling Floyd and Void with her. "I don't know what she's intending to do in that tomb… but this is our best chance." Floyd nodded in agreement, readying his sword and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
They didn't know how long Teal would be in that tomb. But without her as an obstacle, the situation seemed much more manageable. Five cultists… just five. If they could kill them all quietly, they could grab Soul—and maybe the other captive—and run away before Teal even realized.
"We need to do this perfectly, Cara." Void advised. "If even one of them realizes or shouts to alert that Lieutenant… we're pretty much fucked."
Cara nodded, her eyes closed to show that she was thinking very carefully about how to go about it. Time was short after all.
"I've got one Splash Potion of Invisibility…" She recited to herself. "A few Night Visions… some Swiftness… Floyd has Water Breathing… and two Fire Resistances… And Soul has one Strength and one Splash Potion of Harming if he hasn't already used them…"
She kept silent for a few more seconds before finally, her eyes cracked open, looking determined. "Here's my idea…"
The five cultists stood on guard. Two of them flanked the entrance to the half-circle tomb, one on each side. Another two guarded the unconscious Soul and the weaselly Larril. The last one walked around the graves, picking up the Heads of the slain Griefers.
Cara's plan had to be pulled off perfectly to have any chance of rescuing Soul.
And it was about to begin.
Floyd drank the amber brew before Cara ignited him with her flint and steel.
"Help! Help! Fire!" Floyd shouted as loudly as a Crafter in excruciatingly burning pain would as he stumbled out from between two graves, engulfed in a burning flame.
The cultists snapped to attention, readying their swords, only to lower them upon seeing a distressed Crafter.
"Oh, God, it hurts so muuuuuch!" Floyd yelled, rolling around in pain.
Or at least, it would have hurt if he hadn't already drunk a Potion of Fire Resistance. The flames lapped at him harmlessly, useless against the potion's impervious effects. And the cultists wouldn't be able to see the potion's particle effects in all the flame.
"Ugh, just another stupid Griefer…" One of the cultists dismissed. He pointed to the one picking up Heads. "Just go end his suffering already. I can't be bothered with something that pathetic."
The cultist nodded, dropping the heads and arming himself with his blade as he approached the burning Floyd.
Meanwhile, while all the cultists had their attention on Floyd, Cara and Void, under the obscurity of a Potion of Invisibility, snuck between graves before climbing atop the half-circle tomb. Their armor was removed so as not to give them away, but there weapons were ready at their belts.
"Oh, God! I never knew burning could be this painful!" Floyd continued to ham it up. "I'm melting! Oh, what a world!"
They positioned themselves above the cultists guarding the tomb and readied their swords.
When the cultist approaching Floyd raised his sword to attack, Floyd rolled away as if to put out the flames faster when it was really to dodge the attack. He rolled between some gravestones while Cara and Void dropped from the top of the tomb, sinking their swords into the guarding cultists.
When the initial attacks didn't knock them out, they wrapped their arm around their necks and pinned their arms to their sides. The cultists struggled for air, unable to make a sound and not alerting anyone. To Floyd, it looked like they were being choked by two invisible forces. And the cultists guarding Soul were too preoccupied with watching him to see their choking allies.
Floyd rolled behind another set of gravestones, just as the cultist following him began to grow impatient. "Just hold still so I can kill you, you burning idiot!" He shouted, swinging his blade once more.
Under cover of the gravestones, Floyd quit his burning alive act and shot up, swinging his sword horizontally. The cultist was so surprised that he didn't react until the sword had struck his neck. The cultist choked, clutching his throat as he struggled for the air to shout.
Floyd didn't give him the chance. He struck again, this time at his legs, to send him falling to the ground. He gasped for breath, swinging his sword madly to ward off the blue-nette.
Floyd took a blow to his shoulder before he threw all his weight into pinning the cultist to the ground.
"Hey, you okay over there?" The cultist guarding Soul called out dully. "Hate to think a burning Crafter is giving you much trouble."
Floyd didn't say anything as he clamped his hand over the cultist's mouth and stabbed his sword into his gut. Once. Twice. Until finally he burst into a shower of gear and an empty Head.
"Hey, what's up?" The same cultist called out, growing suspicious. "You there?"
Floyd peeked around the gravestone to see that Cara and Void had finished their respective cultists as well. Two piles of gear to show for it.
Just two left…
"Oh, shit!" One of the cultists shouted, spotting the piles of gear by the tomb entrance. "T-!"
He didn't get the chance to shout the rest as an invisible bow nailed him with an arrow, courtesy of Cara. The remaining cultist was baffled before he too noticed the piles of gear. By that time, Void, still invisible, had tackled him to the ground.
Seeing the confusion and lack of cultists guarding him, the smuggler, Larril, picked himself up and scrambled out of the cemetery with his tail between his legs.
The cultist shot with an arrow, Zach, massaged his throat before attempting another shout for his Lieutenant. An invisible force plowed into him, cutting off his air.
Zach desperately struggled with whom Floyd was sure was Cara, while the other cultist struggled with Void. The flames covering Floyd quickly extinguished as he silently sprinted forward, empowered with one of Cara's Potions of Swiftness.
The cultist battling Floyd struggled to push the hand off his throat and call for help. He was almost about to do it before Floyd rushed in. He raised his blade and struck the cultist while Void held him down. The cultist burst into a pile of gear, just as something invisible crashed into both Floyd and Void.
Zach, the now freed cultist, was massaging his neck after tossing an invisible Cara off of him. And now the trio watched worriedly, a tangle of limbs, as Zach took a deep inhale of breath.
"TE—!"
He burst into a shower of gear as a Splash Potion of Harming hit his back…
Courtesy of a newly revived Lost_Soul.
"Shut it…" Soul mumbled coolly as he rubbed his neck. His eyes looked out of it, but he was definitely alive.
"That was cutting it a little too close." He couldn't see her, but Floyd could tell Cara had wiped her forehead of a cold sweat. "You okay, Soul?"
"Y-yeah…" He massaged his neck more, rolling it around, before his eyes suddenly widened. "Oh no… W-we got to get out of here, right now! Teal is going to—"
"Oh?" A terrifying voice chirped. "What is Teal gonna do~?"
Everyone's heads turned to the source of the noise with varying degrees of worry. Cara and Void were still invisible, but Floyd could feel them quivering in terror.
Teal_Larkspur emerged from the tomb, flanked by her two cultists. She had a cheeky smile on her face, even though her blue eyes were the embodiment of terror.
"Siiiiigh." She drew out, voicing the action. "I leave them alone for two minutes and they end up dead. It's my pet cat all over again!"
Her eyes looked upon the Crafters in front of her and she smiled.
"Let's play a game; First to die loses~!"
Inventory (Floyd): Wooden Shovel, 1 Wooden Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe, 1 Iron Sword {Weak}, 1 Wooden Axe {Weak}, 1 Bow, 1 Fishing Rod, 1 Furnace, 1 Crafting Table, 5 Sticks, 3 Ladders, 17 Cobblestone, 1 Oak Wood Door, 1 Minecart, 1 Bed, 1 Boat, 1 Banner {Endward Cult}, 1 Potion of Fire Resistance {8:00}, 1 Potion of Water Breathing {8:00}, 2 Flint, 2 Gunpowder, 9 String, 10 Ink Sacs, 3 Wool, 1 Iron Chestplate, 1 Iron Leggings, 1 Iron Boots, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Entry Pass}, 4 Emeralds
[EXP: 18]
AN: ...Can't we just play a rousing game of hide-n-seek? We hide and you count to infinity?
Teal_Larkspur. God, I love this character. She's just a cute little bundle of blue-haired carnage. I'll describe her appearance more in the next chapter, but it's not hard to remember her since her name is similar to her hair color. Her name itself went through a few edits before I settled on Larkspur. It's a type of flower, but the name really seemed to fit the character's playful and peppy personality.
...And her special cap.
The Nitebane Arc is nearing its conclusion. Then we'll return back to Cobb. I'm sure you all now regret not hearing about Floyd for so long. I know Cobb is more funny, but these other characters matter too. It's not just about Cobb.
And now... an Omake. About Teal and her special cap.
Omake: Bargain
Teal frowned to herself as she looked upon the spread of items. She was in the marketplace looking for something that complimented her beuatiful blue hair in order to impress Mark, but so far she had found nothing.
A shame too. She had just gotten a ton of emeralds from her latest Survival Games captives. All those emeralds were jangling in her belt and backpack, begging to be spent on frivolous luxuries.
Speeeeend ussssssss...
Don't worry, my babies. She patted her belt comfortingly. I'll find something worthwhile around here...
She walked up to a shoddy table of items, glancing over them without much thought.
Then, she spotted it. A light blue leather cap sitting on the corner of the table.
It was blue! Just like her hair!
That was all the buyer's motivation she needed. Even if it violated the cult's desscode, she was a Lieutenant and could bend the rules a bit. She slapped the table loudly, alerting the vendor of her purchase. "Yoohoo! How much for the leather cap?"
The vendor's eyes looked over the cap before shrugging. "Meh, that thing's been collecting dust for years. I'll give it to ya for an emerald."
"Hot shit, that's a deal~!" Teal cheered as she slid the emerald across the table and snatched up the light blue leather cap. She quickly placed it atop her head, making sure her ponytail didn't get messed up by it.
She skipped down the street, humming to herself and excited to see how Mark would respond to her newest accesory. He always said the cutest things, like...
'Keep your kissy face away from me.'
Or...
'For God's sake, put some clothes on!'
Or...
'Why do I have to be the little spoon when you're shorter than me?'
Teal giggled at those thoughts. He was always so much fun to tease.
As she skipped through the streets, she was blissfully unaware at how her leather cap exuded a field of particles in a radius around her. And that any Crafter that passed her was suddenly slowed down, before returning to normal as she passed, looking slightly confused.
She had no idea that she had just purchased one of the nine all-powerful artifacts made by Herobrine himself. An artifact long forgotten to be just that, lost to time and passed down as garbage before ending up as a humble vendor's merchandise.
The light blue leather cap, The Voda Shlem, was hers...
And all... for one measly emerald.
AN: One man's trash is another Lieutenant's magical, all-powerful artifact. Suck it, Noman!
IMPORTANT: I set up a new poll. It's on my profile near the top and it's a Character popularity contest. I figured to set it up just for the heck of it. Vote on your favorite My Craft characters. There's not a lot of memorable ones, but it's up to you, the viewer, to decide which one you like the best. Everyone gets one vote, so check out my profile to cast them.