The incense burner hanging from her left hand swayed slowly. With each swing it emitted bubbling technicolor fumes that repelled the factory’s azure emissions, dissipating them wherever they clashed. Not only that, her empty cigarette holder sucked in any outlying gas, chemically transforming it into a rainbow brume to be recycled as a weapon against the aerosolized despair.
Nanna’s smoke had spread far and wide, surrounding the factory to lock the foul blue mist inside. Durante’s smoke tested the boundaries here and there, but anyone could see who held the advantage.
“So even our client loses to the weight of this woman’s own swaggering nihilism...”
Even Beatrix could tell that the horrid technicolor stuff surrounding the mage would cause its own unsavory effects if inhaled. The gas masks were designed to protect against Kykeon’s unique properties; it looked doubtful that it would protect against the agonies of that prismatic smog.
“We’re striking back. Assemble everyone; clearly they’re not backing down.”
“What should ham do with the client?” Main asked.
“Leave him be. There’s nowhere for him to run unless we eliminate the lot. Let him do as he pleases.”
In other words, there was no turning back now.
“Hold on... Yes... Even used tea leaves serve a purpose...”
Beatrix glared at Goldilocks, who drew his blade atop his steed. Unlike last time, he had a shield upon his left arm. Despite the damage she’d done to it, his arm seemed perfectly functional.
Silently, he drew Schutzwolfe—already widely sung of—and leveled it squarely at her. At his wordless message announcing his impending march, Beatrix laughed. She raised a thumb and drew it across her neck.
Fine, come if you so wish. The One Cup Clan’s own craving for vengeance led them down a path without branches or exits. In the end, what did it matter if they should come to rest in this stinking industrial husk?
[Tips] What makes psychosorcery so profoundly difficult to systematize is the profound variation in each and every soul. They can be classified in broad strokes, but when despair means something different to each individual, creating a single drug that can affect everyone equally is but a dream within a dream.
Here, then, was a perfect example of a great ally to have and an enemy to avoid at all costs rolled up all in one, right before my eyes. I could almost feel a bead of sweat roll down my forehead as I watched her in action.
See, I had mentally prepared myself for the eventuality that our enemies might set the factory alight as they attempted to jump ship, but I didn’t think they would hit us with a wave of toxic gas—the very same that they had readied for Marsheim’s decline. I even made sure miasma-warding face coverings had been handed out to everyone, but holy moly were they pouring their signature brew on thick.
The mana waves were off the charts. I could tell whatever they were up to, it would be far-reaching. There weren’t just simple formulae powering this thing; they must have had arcane furnaces or something mechanical pumping this stuff out.
Arcane furnaces were the byproduct of magia attempting to create a perpetual motion machine of the first kind. They amplified the effects of input mana tenfold—pretty bewilderingly powerful stuff. It helped to think of an arcane furnace a bit like a bicycle: for the same expenditure of muscle power, you cover a lot more distance. Furthermore, an arcane furnace could break down ordinary matter into mana. In theory, a mana furnace could turn even a paltry mage into a powerhouse.
I didn’t want to downplay things today, as all of these mystic engines were incredible in their own right, but I expected the one inside was like an ant compared to the elephantine one in the aeroship that passed over my head in Berylin all those years ago. It was forbidden to install one anywhere in the Empire without the College’s permission. Naturally there was the occasional scofflaw who’d tinker up one of their own behind closed doors, but Diablo’s furnace was a sprawling beast, spilling out of the confines of the factory’s walls. This lot had pulled more than a few strings to get their scheme off the ground, it seemed.
Faced with the death clouds from above, I thanked my most patient inner voices for keeping me from eliminating the Baldur Clan that summer.
“Boring methods for a boring drug... I shouldn’t be too surprised,” Nanna murmured.
Before the first trickle of cold sweat could even slide down my back at the onset of this billowing monstrosity, Nanna stepped forward and cast a few protective spells. Threads of technicolor smoke issued from her incense burner, the same color as that horrid stuff that had covered her mansion on the day she tested my resolve, and it immediately pushed back against the foul blue gas. No, that wasn’t quite right, it was engulfing it. If that wasn’t enough, her empty cigarette holder sucked in any excess traces. A few formulae weaved into her holder converted it back into her rainbow cloud, making for the perfect counterattack.
I wanted to give Nanna a round of applause. This wasn’t as easy as she made it look—it required a total understanding of the enemy’s spell to break down and then recompose the smoke. Any miscalculation would result in a game over for all of us. The enemy’s chemical weapon should have activated as soon as it entered our systems, frying our brains. I was amazed that this was the same Nanna; I was so used to seeing her so utterly blasted out of her own mind that she could barely stay upright.
If she hadn’t been here today, and if in that imaginary scenario I chose not to owe Lottie a huge favor, then we would’ve had to wait until this death cloud dissipated as we fought a war of attrition while our enemies stayed cozy in their base. Even if our foes inside couldn’t just constantly churn out the spells that supported their defensive approach, it would be easy for them to buy time to destroy all the evidence and then make their escape under the smoke screen. It was no exaggeration that we had an ally of the highest caliber on our side today.
Whoever coined the phrase “patience is a virtue” knew what was up.
“Despair, despair, despair...” Nanna muttered. “I had almost forgotten the true meaning of the word...”
Just as I was reaffirming the fact that Lady Leizniz clearly hadn’t picked Nanna to be her disciple on looks alone, the mage in question looked back at me.
“It’ll be a bit hazy...but you can head on through... Your face coverings...should prevent any lasting effects...”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said.
“However...our opponent is using an arcane furnace... I won’t be able to win a battle of endurance... I imagine I can hold it off for thirty minutes, at least... I leave the rest to you...”
“Roger that.”
All right, let’s get this show on the road, then. Thirty minutes in rounds, each taking five seconds apiece, would be a good 360 rounds. Once we got started, it would be over before we knew it. At the table, fractions of seconds of in-game time could stretch into hours at the table as friends deliberated over tactical decisions, rule disambiguations, and conversational tangents.
Still, the task ahead was looking trickier by the minute. Just as I was about to hop off Castor, I felt a pair of eyes on me. Aha, so you were here after all.
I fixed my attention on the factory. Beatrix was standing on the roof, clad in her sumptuous dress and holding a distinctly unladylike pose. There were two deadly drugs intermingling into a sea of psychoactive horror beneath her, yet she was standing right next to the chimneys, where her side’s fumes would be thickest. I applauded her guts.
I felt like our eyes met in that moment, and so I pointed my sword her way and held up my shield in greeting. What I got in return was a simple announcement that she wanted my neck.
Very nice. Now I’m in the mood. I vastly preferred a knock-down, drag-out one-on-one far more when we both had our hearts in the game to a chase, especially if the other party wasn’t into it at all.
I didn’t know what chain of events had led her to that roof today, but if she wanted to talk, we could do it after we’d smacked the stuffing out of one another.
“Everyone, shields high,” I said to the squad heading inside today. “I’ll lead the charge.”
“Yes, Boss!” came the resounding reply.
At my command, my Fellows got into two lines—not a hair out of place—and readied their new round shields into a shield wall. Kaya positioned herself safely behind us, and our lines were filled out by specially selected members of the Baldur Clan who were suited to this kind of frontal assault.
It looked like our foe were finishing up their preparations too, because I noticed windows opening and archers getting into position behind them.
I hope you’re ready to see the results of our daily training—our blood, sweat, and tears.
“All right, people, let’s not rush this,” I said. “Follow me fifteen paces behind.”
“You what?” Siegfried said, shooting a glare at me. “I know a leader should be in front, but you don’t gotta go that far...”
My comrade had an exasperated look on his face, but none of us could forget that our foes had an archer who could fire off massive arrows almost at the speed of sound. I needed to be the target of that aggro, or our Fellows were in for a miserable time.
“Gah... Fine, fine...” he said, finally.
“Oh? You don’t have to join me, Sieg.”
“Hell I don’t. If you go forward and I don’t, then how bad is that gonna make me, huh? I mean, we’ve got Kaya’s arrow-ward potion on, so we’ll be all good.”
Wow, what trust my comrade had in his partner. It was reassuring to have Kaya’s potion, but even I wasn’t sure if it would stop the gargantuan missiles I was expecting would come tearing out of the factory gates. There was nothing so reassuring as having a trustworthy ally by my side going into battle.
“All right, let’s start putting the pressure on the enemy,” I said. “Little by little, got it?”
“We’ve trained so much that we could probably sprint right to the gate without breaking step. D’you really think we should be going so slowly?”
“From the looks of things, they don’t have too many people in there defending their base. We need to play mind games too.”
Their factory didn’t have perimeter walls or an outside gate, so if we marched up to their door slowly and unharmed, especially if we were under heavy arrow fire, then that would work as an implicit indication that their leadership was failing. In situations like this, choosing to go slowly and really rub our strength in the enemy’s face would prevent them from charging out at us in a crazed assault. It was a bit of an unintuitive move, but also made it easier for us.
“Ida, can you hear me? We’re about to move in,” I said to my earring.
“I’ve got eyes on you, Eszett,” came Margit’s reply. “A pity. If I had been in a better position, I could have shot her down.”
Margit was nearby, ready to join us as soon as she needed to. She had a point, but I felt that Beatrix wouldn’t have placed herself up there without good reason. It wasn’t important at this moment in time, and we could start asking questions once we settled this thing.
“MARCH!”
As we set off, I started to whistle the tune of the British Grenadiers, giving off the biggest impression that I could that this was an easy-breezy mission for us. We might not have had any red on our uniforms, but the tune just felt so emblematic of an elite vanguard. So much so that I was happy to accept any criticism that maybe the northern isles were a more fitting calque for the tune than us Rhinian folk.
I wasn’t doing it just for the fun of it, though. A force of twenty was small enough to simply shout to lead them, but my voice wasn’t deep or booming; it would get lost should the battle begin. I thought that it might be fun to get a little drum and fife unit going if we got any bigger. If we had that kind of triumphant sound following us while we gallantly marched forward, I doubted that anyone would mock us as filthy and rootless vagabonds.
“Ooh... They’re getting pretty close this time,” I said.
“Even when you know they’re not gonna hit with the potion, it...”
“...Still is kinda scary, huh?”
Sieg looked like he was having trouble finishing his train of thought, so I did it for him. Kaya’s potion was concocted of materials that arrows fundamentally hated, and so it wouldn’t force near misses to greatly change their trajectory, but it was still a little scary having the arrows fly just past your ear. All in all, getting hit was still worse, and at that distance you could bat them out of the air with a weapon, but even if you knew so on paper, it was hard to trust the process.
“They didn’t skimp on hiring good archers. We’re a good hundred paces away, but these would hit us in normal circumstances.”
“Don’t ya think they’re usin’ magic or— WHOA!”
Whew, I thought. that arrow flew right between Siegfried’s legs. It had found its way through his step at just the right moment, without even grazing his thighs or his first-ever sword. Talk about lucky. This was exactly what I meant when I said the near misses were still enough to make you jump.
“That...was close...”
I decided to ignore his muttering that he almost pissed his pants. After all, I think if I’d been the recipient of that close shave, I would’ve felt the strength leave my gut too.
“I’m impressed,” I said. “You really are made of the right stuff.”
“Shut it, man!”
If the front line pressed on with confidence, then those behind us could march with confidence too—I was happy keeping up this rhythm. The job of a leader also included keeping one’s subordinates’ guts in check.
There were few archers despite the size of the factory, but now that we were only fifty paces away it wouldn’t be surprising for their arrows to start finding their marks. It was quite amusing to watch the arrows spin off in utterly unscientific directions, but I thought about the possible alternative without Kaya where we would have had to hurry through this with only our shields to protect us.
It was a whole different kind of relief to have a party of folk who you could really trust. What would make this scene perfect would be a mage who focused on casting instant heals and a priest specialized in providing support buffs.
As we got ever closer, bidding them to take us on whenever they wanted with each step closer, the giant arrows from the vierman never came. They must have been stocking them up for an ambush. Or they were just that valuable. If they weren’t going to stop us during our march, then all we needed to do was to prepare for the inevitable indoor skirmish.
“I come with one final warning! If you surrender now, we won’t take your lives! We will treat you with the respect you deserve. This is your final chance!”
I gave my formal ultimatum, for good form’s sake. The attacks did let up—but only momentarily. I imagined that even if most of these guards didn’t want to fight to the death, there were probably a lot of them who didn’t want to be captured under any circumstances.
“Very good,” I said to my Fellows. “We move as planned—time to break in. Cut down any who try to flee or fight back as if they were but cattle.”
It was more effort to do things this way, but them’s the breaks. I knew they wanted to wear us down as much as they could before the boss battle, and we didn’t have much choice.
The gate was locked. As I readied myself to cut it down, I felt a shiver run down my spine.
“DOWN!”
I swung my sword before I could even think and felt the thrumming shock as Schutzwolfe collided with the mighty arrow that came barreling from down the hall. To think they would get a “cannon” ready, facing the door from the opposite end of the hallway to ambush us at our biggest opening! I knew these missiles were tough, but not enough to smash down the gates.
“Holy crap, I thought I was gonna die!” my comrade said.
The gates were made up of two doors, and they had blown open in the moment after the giant arrow came through. I’d been on the right side and reacted quickly enough to knock it out of the way, so I was fine. However, the left door came crashing down, and bounced off the ground once, before knocking into Sieg’s shield and coming to a halt.
Of course, the potion only worked on arrows, not everything that came speeding your way.
That was close. If the dice had rolled poorly for Siegfried, he would’ve had to retire from this campaign. The gates were thick and reinforced with iron. If it hadn’t had the ground to slow it down, then its mighty weight would have sent even the toughest Fellow flying.
“Ngh... My arm’s stinging...” I said. “You okay back there?”
“Something bad flew right over my head...”
“I-Is my head still attached?! I’m alive, aren’t I?!”
A split-second decision had led me to cut upward through the arrow, and it seemed like I had broken the head off safely. None of our Fellows were harmed, but it looked like it had just about grazed our two tallest members, Etan and Mathieu, who looked understandably dazed. The arrow had so much kinetic energy that even cutting it down had caused a booming sound. It was no surprise that they might have thought death had finally come for them.
“All right, seems we’re all okay,” I said. “The enemy’s smart. Keep your wits about you as we enter.”
“‘Seems we’re all okay’?! You just brush it off like that?! You’re mad!”
My comrade was shouting at me, but I wasn’t wrong—no one was dead or even injured. I had been momentarily worried about my recently healed left arm, but with the hallway empty—the vierman must have run off after the shot—we were in the clear for now.
“We’ll take charge of this floor. Fellows, I want you upstairs. The rest of you, your objective is to clear the basement. Don’t forget to use your potions before moving in, okay? The Merciful Sapling herself prepared a lot, so don’t be stingy.”
Nanna had given me free rein over the Baldur Clan members joining us today and so I gladly gave them the floor that I imagined would be less interesting. I didn’t want poor communication being the thing that tripped us up so I tasked my Fellows with the upper floor—where I expected the mercenaries to be—and the Baldur Clan with downstairs.
The core members—me, Siegfried, Margit, and Kaya—would take on the workshop on the first floor which I imagined to be the most important part of the operation. However, I knew that we were dealing with professionals who worked in the shadows and so I asked Etan to act as Kaya’s bodyguard—I knew my Fellows would be fine on their mission without him. He was wielding a mighty shield that a regular mensch couldn’t lift—of the ilk known as a “tower shield”—and I was sure that his equally mighty frame and honed skills would be able to protect our more fragile backliner.
Margit was on a mission to lay the pressure thick on our foes so I wasn’t actually sure where she was at this moment. However, I had complete and utter certainty that she would leap into action as soon as the enemy showed even a drop of their killing intent. Our formation with our deadly scout in the shadows would make us a lot more of a pain for the enemy to deal with. I was more than happy to use mind tricks to keep them on their toes.
“Move out!”
After my call, everyone moved into action. Before long the shouts of battle and the crashing sounds of potion bottles being launched filled the building. Everyone was liberally using Kaya’s flash-bang potions and so I was sure that the sounds of the enemy forces would fade out before long. I had a little look at the formulae too and reworked it to not only increase the radius but also prevent it from blinding us, but that was nothing compared to what Kaya had done, the professional she was.
Our resident herbalist had made sure that they wouldn’t affect their user, even if they weren’t a mage, and made them utterly convenient to use by managing to get the concoction safely into simple earthen jars. Not only that, she had devised a special prototype too. The flash-bang potions only worked once you shattered their outer shell and so Kaya had been puzzling on whether they could explode after a set amount of time or with other methods that didn’t require smashing them. I had been playing around with these things mostly going by instinct, but her work was truly something else.
If all things went smoothly then our Fellows shouldn’t be harmed much if at all.
That was if those five didn’t show up, that was.
Beatrix had shown herself pretty openly and we had received a nice “welcome” coming through the door, but apart from that I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of them. I had told everyone in the Fellowship to blow the whistle if they encountered anyone they couldn’t handle, but the sounds coming from around me were your regular old battle noises. It was looking like they weren’t trying to wear us down by chopping off our limbs first.
In which case, they were probably behind that door that screamed boss room.
“Watch out, Erich,” Kaya said. “The mana signals are strongest from behind that door. I expect the enemy’s central point is in that room, not downstairs in the basement.” It seemed that she had sensed the same thing that I had.
Even from here, I could tell that the room behind the doors was huge. From the looks of the walls, the second floor had been removed, giving the room a lot of vertical space. The conclusion that could be drawn from that was that this was most likely the production room. The layout screamed final fight before reaching the mastermind. If they weren’t in there, then I would yell at the GM for being so contrarian.
“Right, let’s introduce ourselves, shall we?”
I gripped my sword, making sure that my arm wasn’t twinging anymore, and got Etan and Kaya to fall back a bit. Siegfried looked ready to go. He had his spear in a low position, almost scraping the floor, clear to charge at any moment.
The most dangerous moment of an indoor battle is opening a door. Just as demonstrated earlier, it was the perfect moment to launch a surprise attack on your enemy while they were busy opening it. I gathered my energy, ready to cut down the heavy door before me. I took the familiar position, glad to have a stationary target I could unleash Schism on.
I breathed in.
Cutting through steel wasn’t as easy as it looked. You either needed to choose a weapon that ranked higher on the toughness scale or you needed to strike perfectly at the thinnest and weakest part of your target. Fortunately for me, if I activated Schism then I wouldn’t even risk chipping my blade.
After my inhalation, I readied Schutzwolfe to slice...and instead let out a violent killing intent.
The problem with Schism was that any reactions following the swing would be delayed. If another mighty arrow came rocketing through, then it would hit me square on. I wasn’t as exhausted as our time in the cursed cedar maze, so I wouldn’t have as long to wait before I could pop off again, but I still wouldn’t be able to counterattack as I usually could.
The assassins behind this door were veterans who could kill me the instant I dropped my guard. I needed to be more careful than usual, and so I controlled myself and merely let my aura be known instead of striking. However, there was no response.
Hmm? Did the vierman not have the confidence to fire through steel doors this thick? As these thoughts ran through my head, I finally unleashed my swing—a whole breath later—and cut through in a beautiful arc.
This feat that seemed more appropriate to the katana-wielding friend of a certain gentleman thief was a piece of cake when you combined Divine skills with Schism. If childhood me, the kid who dreamed of being a swordsman, could see me now, I’m sure he would be overjoyed that his choice in life hadn’t been misplaced.
My comrade gave me quite the surprised expression while I admired my handiwork, for some reason.
“Y’know, Erich,” Siegfried said, “you’re gettin’ further from human every time I look at ya...”
“Huh? You think? This is nothing compared to slicing through dragon scales, I bet. If you dream of achieving that one day, then I don’t think you should call this inhuman...”
Come on, Sieg, I thought, you said you wanted to achieve the same feats as your namesake! If your dream is to find the fabled Windslaught, lost since the Age of Gods, then you can’t waste your energy being surprised at a little door slicing.
I was positively normal compared to that monster who could create a micro black hole with the snap of her fingers, that perverted wraith who could freeze space or even reality itself with one dirty look, or the saint who could cloak his spear in such intense enchanted flame that it ionized.
There was no shortage of ambitious young heroes in the fiction of my previous life whose pursuit of superhuman power set them up for a tragic downfall. We needed to be a bit smarter about how we would eventually become great heroes.
“Hmm... No response...”
With no way of supporting itself, the door fell backward into the room with a belly-shaking boom, but there was no movement inside. However, a gap in the blue smoke snaking around our ankles revealed a few corpses. They must have had runners. Unlike some of the mercenaries I’d seen, these victims didn’t have gas masks. Unlike Nanna’s concoction, their chemical weapon didn’t distinguish between friend and foe, it seemed. Judging from their clothes, it looked like these poor souls weren’t fighters, but local citizens who’d been drafted without ever really getting a clear picture of what they were doing.
Upon closer inspection, it looked like they hadn’t died from asphyxiation. One of them had been strangled with his own leather belt, and the other two had holes in their throats. Had they committed suicide before their brains or organs shut down from the drug? I knew that this mysterious new mist was dangerous, but this was a clear sign that we needed to hurry. As soon as Nanna’s energy was spent, we could end up in a similarly pitiful situation.
“They didn’t take the bait, huh...” I said.
“They’re pros,” Siegfried replied. “They ain’t gonna give up their advantage.”
“Yeah, they’d win the endurance game any day of the week, that’s for sure. Fine, let’s head in.”
I had the small hope that with a broken door, they would realize they had less chance of an ambush and would bum-rush us, but waiting here would only be a waste of time. Assassins had patience in spades; it was time to enter the lion’s den.
As I was about to lead the charge, I felt Siegfried’s hand grab my shoulder. Judging by the look on his face and his raised fist, it looked like he wasn’t happy with me going first again. It had been a lesson of mine in the Fellowship that going in first was the most dangerous job, but also the one that brought the most glory. My comrade really did have his sights set on pulling in the big reputation points, huh.
“Schere, stein, papier!” we both yelled in unison.
It was a funny thing that no matter where you went—this world or my last—rock, paper, scissors was pretty much the same, despite the difference in nomenclature. With the same energy as a Japanese schoolkid trying to get the last carton of milk at lunchtime, we battled. I unleashed scissors, but Siegfried revealed rock.
I tutted loudly as Sieg pumped his fist in celebration.
Stupid game... I had leaned over slightly to conceal my hand right until the last moment, but it was just luck at the end of the day. Back in Konigstuhl I lost four times out of five when me and my brothers did this to decide who would take on what chore. It looked like no amount of practice could fix bad luck.
“All right, in we go,” my comrade said.
Siegfried readied himself by the broken door, and with no care for waste, tossed in three flash-bang potions. Each was thrown to cover as much of the room as possible. As they exploded with sound and light, we stepped into the room.
I was surprised by the size of the room. I would wager that it was about as big as a gymnasium—not the kind you’d find in schools, but the public sort that could easily fit three basketball courts.
Lined up inside were three metal storage tanks. They were huge—I doubted that ten people holding hands would be enough to encircle one—and reminded me of the vats you saw in industrial breweries back in my old world. Pipes connected the containers to strange machines on the wall. They all groaned under an arcane strain.
“S-Stand back, fools!”
Right at the back of the room was a complicated machine that looked more like a pipe organ than anything. A filthy mage stood in front of it as he howled at us, a tube hooking his neck right into the machine. This must have been the arcane furnace. Its beautiful appearance stood in stark contrast to the foul magic that it was churning out.
The blue smoke outside was pumping out at an incredible rate; it must have taken an unceasing stream of mana to fuel and unwavering supervision of the controls to sustain. From his panicked tapping away, it looked like that if he didn’t keep the machine working at this pace, then the effects wouldn’t match up to his wishes, or it would simply shut down.
Magic and computer programming had some marked similarities, but one of the distinct drawbacks of magic by comparison was the profound difficulty of keeping a process automated. Even “permanent” spells conjured by magia had to be constantly woven, their effects and targets calculated beforehand to ensure they stayed active. It wasn’t as easy as pushing the big red button to set a constantly billowing cloud of death over a huge area.
“Kill him and it’ll all be over, huh,” Siegfried said.
“At least the smoke will be,” I said. “But, man, he looks like a shrimp if you ask me.”
“Uh, he looks like a mensch to me...”
I froze. I’d totally used a Japanese expression, not a Rhinian one.
“Ah, yeah, it’s a phrase in fishing communities,” I bluffed. “It essentially means, if you manage to catch a huge sea bream with a cheap shrimp, then you’ve turned dirt into gold, essentially.”
Here in Rhine you would probably say “Using wurst to buy speck,” or something of the like. Fortunately it seemed that my comrade bought my on-the-spot thinking.
“I get ya,” Sieg said. “So he’s the bait, eh?”
From what I had heard about arcane furnaces, they were finicky creatures with the temperaments of toddlers; if you gave them too little care they’d churn out disasters left and right, but they’d shriek and howl and utterly shut down if you overhandled them. This mage was operating this huge machine all on his lonesome, creating what had to be Great Work-level stuff out there—and yet he was so obviously just here to bait us out. The guy’s dance card was full. If he had any bandwidth left, then I doubted he would just be shouting curses at us.
“Why?! Why doesn’t it work?!” he went on. “Why don’t you fall to your knees in despair?!”
“What’s he yappin’ on about?” Siegfried asked.
“Who knows,” I said. “I guess he was pretty damn confident in the power of his formulae.”
From his moaning about despair and from the way those folk had met their end, whatever foul gas he had cooked up this time must have had some kind of psychosorcerous effect. Still, if Nanna could whip up a countermeasure without even needing her own arcane furnace, it couldn’t be all that incredible. I had led a rather peaceful and unassuming life back on Earth, but even I had experienced a few moments where the black dog reared its head and my thoughts drifted to authoring my own ending before biology and plain statistics had their way with me. Compared to the times I’d had, Nanna was on a whole other level of abjection; that gal had long since lost the power to imagine a future that didn’t come with a neat and well-planned cessation of self at the end.
At any rate, I could think of two reasons why this guy was alive, or more accurately, still kicking.
The first was that Beatrix’s party wanted to use his smoke as cover. The assassins were the lizard; he was its tail. Such things were known to twitch about after autotomizing, occupying the predator’s attention perfectly. His very obvious presence here suited that logic well.
The second was that, like I said to Siegfried, he was a tail with a very obvious, very dangerous sting at the end.
Whether we captured or killed this mage, we still had to neutralize him. I wasn’t sure on our exact time, but I imagined we had probably spent around fifteen minutes getting here. The clock was ticking. We needed to get this thing in the can swiftly and effectively.
Call it an adventurer’s hunch, but I was almost certain that he was playing the latter role. Things were perfectly set up for their counterattack as soon as we moved in. I could practically see their piece held in the air, ready to be placed down to block us as soon as we made our move.
Your biggest opening in a battle is the moment you strike. I’d learned that the hard way in my last encounter with this lot. However, if I knew the intent behind the scene, then the answer before me was simple.
“Mind if I take this one?” I said.
“Tch, fine,” Sieg replied. “I’ll let ya have the first strike.”
“What are you imbeciles blabbing about?!” the mage squealed. “Don’t you dare approach me, scum! Are you listening?!”
I spun Schutzwolfe in my hand as I walked toward the mage, trying to convey utter confidence. I knew that the assassins wouldn’t take the reverse bait of a bluff like this, but it was part of the show.
The stubbly mage twisted his body as he bent over the control panel, desperate to keep control of his formulae, but it was evident that he had no energy left to attack me while he was occupied with pushing back Nanna’s assault from the outside. He was panicking like a boar stuck in a trap.
“Quit that!” he yelled. “Dammit! Very well, I’ll change the size of the sphere of control...”
It was time to lay the pressure on a bit more.
I lethargically raised my sword and placed it upon the mage’s shoulder. However, even as I gently stroked it across his robe, the assassins still wouldn’t bite.
Fine, how’s this, then?
“Do not move a single hair,” I said. “I’d advise you to watch how you swallow your spit, or even how you breathe.”
“Eep!”
I quickly put the tip of Schutzwolfe to his throat, making a show of how I was toying with him. My fingers were relaxed—as if I were holding a spoon, not a killing tool—but with just enough force to keep my blade perfectly steady. It was more than enough pressure to terrify the mage. If he dared to turn toward the control panel or even swallow too forcefully, then my blade would tear through.
I refused to kill him just yet. I controlled my bloodlust and upped the menace. I could see the saliva trickling from his lips—he would need to swallow it down soon enough. Schutzwolfe was sharp enough that a twitch from him would be enough to sever his carotid artery.
I wanted to take him in alive, but honestly, he was disposable. Our whole win condition here was halting the flow of Kykeon. Dealing with the creator and the assassins who played a hand in its proliferation were just bonus objectives. I’d sleep more soundly knowing this creep would be out of the picture, but it wasn’t an absolute necessity.
My trustworthy Fellows were hard at work right now, and I was sure they would pin down the requisite evidence, so we had a few moments to spare. I kept the pressure on his neck, my fingers clutching my sword tighter. Usually three inches was enough to kill a man, but I could do that with three millimeters.
I might slip if I sneeze, I thought. What’s your move?
It didn’t take long at all—I’d won.
As soon as I felt their presence, I slid one step backward.
“Hm?!” came a confused grunt.
As I went into a quick reverse, I saw a fist striking at where my shadow had just been. From atop the closest vat came an arachne’s garotte wire that caught nothing.
“I was getting rather nervous!” Margit said.
I’d only been able to make such a speedy retreat thanks to the bundle of Margit’s fine thread tethered to my back. We had worked out this pulley method using the same fundamental process that kept us connected with our analog Voice Transfer. I used the smallest output of Unseen Hands as I could to lift my body up a paper’s width above the ground, and with this minuscule platform, Margit could pull me without friction slowing me down.
“Whoa! Here too?!”
“Eep!”
“Raaah?!”
I heard three voices all at once. I cast a quick Farsight spell so I could scope out the battlefield without turning around. Siegfried had just blocked an attack from the hlessi, who had just launched themselves from the top of another vat. Kaya and Etan shouted in surprise as a mighty arrow bounced off his equally mighty shield. Nice one, Etan! I was sure that smothering the tower shield in the arrow-ward had helped, but he was a reliable backliner who could easily protect Kaya from an attack like that.
“You really are a twisted man... To think you would use yourself as bait.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
My plan had worked—I had reeled them in out of the shadows. Beatrix had reset from her opening attack; this time we were a comfortable distance apart. Only a small part of Beatrix’s body was exposed from the pool of shadow. I wondered if she’d slink back into hiding, but she pulled herself out and took up a fighting stance.
Our distance was far more suited to swordplay than fistfighting. I would be able to step and slice before her fist could make contact.
I changed my sword’s position and launched into a powerful thrust. I’d taken the grip in both hands now for that extra bit of power and accuracy.
“Ngh!”
Beatrix rolled back out of desperation, but even with her evasive maneuvers, my thrusting steps closed that gap as fast as she opened it. No matter how much she tried to wriggle away, I could keep going.
After three strikes, Beatrix launched into action. Using the momentum from her roll, she used her upper body as a fulcrum and spun her legs in a terrifying meia lua de compasso! As much as it might have resembled a breakdance move, she hadn’t switched into such a maneuver purely for style points. She was capitalizing on her legs’ superior reach to match the pressure I’d created.
However, I had foreseen this too.
Kicks tended to be aimed for the opponent’s midriff. I had chosen a form where I could easily deflect or strike back with my sword, holding the blade parallel to the ground. In other words, it only took a tiny adjustment to switch into horizontal sweeps.
“Grh...”
I sliced through her leather boot, parting flesh and striking bone. I’d used her momentum against her and tried to cut clean through her shin, but...
“Not deep enough...” I muttered.
Beatrix had shifted her stance to readjust her arc and brute-force her way into shutting down my slash. Evidently, receiving a deep wound was vastly preferable to losing a limb. She moved into a position where I thought she was switching into a headstand, but she used the strength in her arms alone to push off the ground and leap back to her feet.
She was good. I mentally applauded her quick thinking to cut her losses and switch from offense to defense.
I wondered if it was because we had the morale boost of inching ever closer to our goals, while they were moving ever further from theirs, that had given me the upper hand today. Moreover, this time I had Schutzwolfe—an extension of my arm itself—and I wasn’t fighting in extremely close quarters either. I hoped they hadn’t thought my showing in that warehouse was my best.
“Sisker!”
“No interruptions, please!”
I heard the sound of a loosed arrow and insect wings in flight. With her crossbow, Margit had leaped into combat with the kaggen, who hadn’t made a move until now, to shut down any chance of her intercepting me. The sudden counter had forced the kaggen to switch from offense to defense on a dime. Her flight was disrupted, and she went careening toward the wall. It would’ve been real nice if she’d crashed into it, but she was an insectoid demihuman—she stuck the landing with steady footing.
We hadn’t yet neutralized anyone, but things were going pretty damn smoothly. The board was in our favor.
Our enemies specialized in sneaky formations to take down their prey without being spotted, but out here in the open it was simply business as usual for us. They wanted to launch a counterattack, and so I’d simply countered it before they could strike. I was almost certain that this had annoyed them to no end.
“Doing all right, Siegfried?!”
“I should be asking you that! Watch yourself!”
Having just stopped a double-bladed surprise attack, Siegfried’s enemy froze just for a moment as their daggers caught fast in his spear shaft. My comrade made use of this microsecond of an opening to launch a powerful fist right into their cloaked body. Siegfried was beautifully demonstrating the Fellowship’s teachings to not become overly reliant on your weapon. His fist sent the hlessi spinning away. They bounced a few times, but from the way they were trying to stay on their feet it looked like they weren’t too confident in their resilience. Lapine races had infamously weak skeletons, and this one’s piss-poor armor wasn’t helping. Of course, they had picked their cloak to prioritize speed and allow them to kill before they were hit, but it was a painful drawback in a real melee.
“Etan!” I shouted.
“I-I’m fine, Boss!” came the reply. “They’ll have to step over my dead body before they lay a hand on Big Sis!”
“I can lend support anytime!” Kaya added.
Our rearguard was pushing back just fine, which was a load off my mind. Kaya hadn’t buffed herself with a constant barrier or physical enhancements, so we needed to be careful with our formation to prevent anything unexpected.
“Leader!”
“Don’t move yet! I’m fine!”
From atop the vats, the huntsman arachne called down as she lay in wait. She was watching the scene, but Beatrix had told her to stay. Beatrix had prevented the worst-case scenario, but her left leg was heavily wounded. I had sliced from the front, so I hadn’t severed her tendons, but I had chipped bone. Her posture tilted to the right, showing that she wasn’t immune to the pain.
Beatrix was holding the right side of her body forward, her right fist kept in front of her chest at the ready. She brandished a blade in the other hand. Despite the power flowing through her, I couldn’t sense the same pungent aura of death as before. Aha, I thought, her pivot foot is her left. The assassin still had ample ability to kill, but from all the blood trickling from the gash in her boot, it was clear that her power had been severely reduced. Even if she had trained herself to be ambidextrous with her legs too, it was a difficult task to get rid of the innate advantage given to you from your dominant side.
I remembered status effects being a pretty brutal side to many TRPGs, and having one of your limbs knocked out of commission was enough to give you a huge debuff too. That went extra for a fistfighter who loved grappling at butterfly-kiss range.
We hadn’t reached a checkmate just yet, but I could see the route that would lead us there. If I could remove my limiters then this last push would be so much easier...
“I’ll ask you once more,” I said. “If you surrender, then I shall reward you in kind.”
“Allow me to ask something...” Beatrix replied. “Have you ever met an adventurer who would retreat from the battlefield?”
“I see... Fine logic.”
It looked like she wouldn’t back down so simply.
“Yes... An adventurer who backs down is an adventurer no more. Blasted thing... Proving to be more hindrance than help.”
The mask she was wearing must have been obscuring her vision. I allowed her to remove it. Situations like these warranted both sides giving it their all. If you didn’t let your opponent take you on with all their strength and then lose, then who knew how many times they would get up for more? A fair battle was the simplest and quickest way to secure a speedy end.
“Bea?!” the hlessi called.
“Whew...” Beatrix said. “What will a little despair do to slow me? It is a far more troubling poison to have my vision marred fighting a man as talented as this to the death...”
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