"Mateiko dog!" a mask shrieks at Valeria from the palisade entrance, completely forgetting to play his role. I swear, these actors get worse and worse.
Obviously, his face is shattered into a thousand pieces. He didn’t stand a chance. This chaos is Valeria’s environnt.
I sluggishly begin moving to another piece of cover—I don’t know why Cossa is so heavy. My C-rank Strength helps, but still. Maybe I’m as weak as my frail, pessimistic subconscious believes.
Another stray projectile finds in the chaos—this ti it’s a bullet of ice. Sa arm, sa clang. My hidden Luck stat is maxed out morons, you can’t get —well, just ignore that it was unlucky to get hit twice in the first place.
Valeria hits the entrance breach like a calamity, only guarded by a handful of masked attackers.
One mask with a sword finds as I try to blend in and peels off, trying for heroics. I’m no easier to fight that Valeria, I just lack the reputation. Fuck it, I’ll take Taker of Fingers. Sounds badass anyway.
I hold my bastard sword on my right, shouldering Cossa on the left, keeping my blade in between myself and the enemy.
Then we simply circle.
...
And circle.
"Do sothing pussy!" I yell to him.
"You first!"
This is ridiculous.
We keep circling until my back reaches the exit. Then I back away to freedom.
The moron rushes as he sees begin to leave, but it’s a feint. I hold my ground and do nothing but hold my sword.
"Fight!" he cries.
"Nope."
I can see his eyes through the black cloth mask. He’s bored and hungry. Patient while simultaneously impatient. Incredible.
An idea strikes . I activate Tremors. In a few seconds, my bastard sword lds into a grey haze, ominously humming.
I know how these creatures think. They see sothing shiny and can’t help but touch it.
This moron masquerading as a cognitive being actually thinks he can prod at my sword to try and gauge what my parlor trick is.
He bats at my sword.
And the steel blade silently bisects.
My attacker stands in silence, utterly puzzled as he stares at the bladeless hilt in his hand.
For good asure, I burst forward with an Empowered step. I flick my wrist and slice off his sword arm at the elbow.
"Arghh!!! What the fuck is your problem?!" he stumbles backward and screams in crazed agony. Beautiful crimson blood bursts from the wound. The quality of a cut with Tremors is absolute perfection.
"You... you were ard and dangerous," I smirk, barely able to contain my amusent.
Then there’s the follow-up punchline:
CRACK.
A flash of red appears at the unard masked attacker’s side.
He’s flung viciously into the stakes of the wooden palisade, the impact so strong that his body makes that old and tough wood crack and splinter.
The protection Artifact goes off preemptively, saving him from the worst of it. How the hell did I kill Henri when Valeria is brutalizing motherfuckers like this? Bullshit.
Valeria recollects herself. Until a spike of earth strikes her in the shoulder. She doesn’t even more, just grunts, staring down at the Cossa spellcaster from a solid 100 feet.
"Co on," I say. "We need to leave."
She’s seriously contemplating going after the spellcaster. Jesus Christ, she’s an animal. A Corrupted in Human flesh, I daresay. Doesn’t even bother to remove the Earth projectile stuck in her shoulder.
Valeria and I, with Cossa in tow, make out like bandits. I laugh at the absurdity of our heist.
"Get them!" A roaring scream tears through the now-distant battlefield.
I turn back to see two mysterious masked figures looming over. They watch us in angered fury.
It’s the leaders of this rry raid party. Endangered can tell, even from a distance, that they’re dangerous. Very dangerous.
I squint at one of them. My eyes focus and I can only make out a single speck.
Red pupils. So that’s where you went. Interesting. I think I can guess who the other is. What a strange gambit from them.
Too bad for these moronic hot shots, but they’re too late to the party. We’ve got our prize—including a complete thwarting of their plans—and now we’re far out of reach.
Running as fast as possible can’t hurt, though. You know. Just to be sure we’re actually in the clear. Don’t wanna take a nap at the finish line.
I pick up my pace to a full sprint. Valeria gallops at a steady pace, but takes my acceleration as a challenge and blows past .
"Hey!" I call out through ragged breath. "Co take this heavy bastard!"
She looks at like I’m crazy, then returns to running. Damnit, I’m turning sluggish already.
Fortunately, in addition to being a genius, I am also an athletic specin with unparalleled ntal fortitude. Long-distance running is 80% will, according to my vast wisdom.
Like that, we’ve officially escaped doom.
I set Cossa down at the base of a tree. Valeria slumps down nearby, fiddling with her large shoulder wound like it’s nothing more than a scab. She tears the stone spike free from her shoulder and tosses it aside, holding her hand to the open wound.
As for myself, I take a few breaths, lording over Sebastian Cossa, who continues to fight against the command. Honestly, I’m afraid his heart’s gonna burst from the constant electrical buzzing.
"You know, it’s funny," I say. "You’re essentially wearing a slave collar. Yet, even those..." I snap deep into my Human role. "...filthy nonhuman slaves have the mind not to resist."
Cossa doesn’t reply. Just spasms. Drools a bit too, through gritted teeth. His eyes are hazy.
The stubborn mule is fighting the orders for what? Just to prove a point that he can’t be ordered around? Just so he doesn’t have to cooperate with people who might be pro-Human forced labor? It’s just so baffling.
Shit, I wish I had so rope right about now. I need to turn off that collar, or else our only hope will die of a heart attack.
I turn back to Valeria and look toward her bleeding shoulder. "You need a bandage for that."
"Oh, really?" she snaps.
"Don’t attack , mutt. Hells, you’re putting your dirty hand all over an open wound." How dare she unspokenly accuse of being an idiot?
"Nicklas was carrying all our supplies," Valeria rolls her eyes.
Unfortunately, Nicklas is gone forever. Rest in power, buddy, you were a good mule. Carried things well, took orders well.
Honestly, I miss the bugger. You always need a good punching bag around. And you... Sorry, let wipe the tears... You were the best, my friend. The best punching bag a man could ask for.
"Well, Nicklas isn’t here," I reply. "River for cleaning and so torn uniform, then."
"Whoa, what the Hells happened? Ouch, you’re... you’re hurt pretty bad, Valeria. There’s a river right over there. I just washed up there, actually. And I have bandages and even disinfectant in the bag as well."
...Is what Nicklas would say. But he’s gone.
...
Am I hallucinating?
...
No. No, I am not. He’s right there.
My personal demon and trusty NPC has spawned in from thin air.
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