(… I… I won!? I fooled them!?)
Spinning through the air ended with a mind-splitting taste of silver; but, the coldness of death Adris was expecting is instead the tight grip of a extra squishy proportions in motion.
Up a steep angle Adris climbs, he over the shoulder of another. It takes a moment for the tense atmosphere behind them to clear the silver, and then a dying roar explains the shaking he hears.
The fountain, mighty and tall and once bubbling with devilish wine, is instead crushed like a mushroom into the growing bowl where the earth depresses. Inward until it can bear no more it caves.
They shake and shudder, the landscaped open parade grounds of the mansion where the roving gardens and the winding root paths up to the great tree meet. And at the center of this crossroads is where the ire of a tiny creation of Luna summons a tome’s never-explained might.
(She’s going to kill us all this time.)
Neesiette, her steel-blue dress shining as it flaps with her gathering authority, comically hangs from a rope tied to her waist. Before her floats the instrument of earth killing, its pages still turning as she reads its passages.
All around the ground flows toward the bowl that sinks ever downward. Upon the moving dirt rushing to meet it struggles Still to leap and run, fighting against all odds to escape the edge of the encroaching depression.
“RUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUN———!”
A similar desperation compels Ave to surf on her long tail the sliding dirt like a tiny racing snake. She’s stuck in a stifled effort to reach the world tree in the distance, for it sometimes grows further away instead of closer with the shaking. Ave’s baggage is all theirs plus a mangled wreck of blackened steel slung under arm. The fate of the idiot that jumped to her certain doom is to resemble a large cook pot repeatedly clanged by brawny men with iron-capped clubs until almost flat.
(What insanity would make them…?)
Adris’ answer is flattened into the center of the depression they flee from.
(Right, it.)
Its thick white carapace bears cracks all along its three-sectioned length. The weightless wings that sprouted from its tail are crumpled sheets spread over the compression stone and glass. Even the underground river below it has vanished, boiled through the cracks in the earth.
But despite that, the apocalyptic spell’s target still struggles.
It seeks to rise over the all-crushing force of attraction.
Wreathed in white of noxious holy radiance that stinks the same as Granescian miracles, matter how much this lobster’s mighty claws drag it the depression’s edge escapes it.
Everything groans, cries in Adris’ ears, and begs for a release.
“[… all that once cared departed; endured without compassion, hopelessness was succumbed to…]”
Just as Ave and Still almost reach a gnarl of one of the world tree’s revealing root branch tips, Neesiette shares a horrible thought that explodes the concaving earth.
The enormous lobster that could easily consume a cadre of Xin’reh is impaled upon great teeth of the deep. Wounds gush out white flesh where carapace is ripped off and it totally vanishes into the billowing debris that flows over them when the teeth start rotating and spinning.
(Oh fuck.)
Adris is airborne suddenly. He latches onto his ride and careens with her in their flight. Nothing can be heard beyond the grinding of the Castillo’s garden’s lowest foundations lifting into the sky to mulch every object that falls into its spinning jagged rocks.
(FUCK!?)
His back impacting onto a branch clears up Adris last subjective thoughts about the doom he’s witnessing. Debris floods back toward the grinding horror to reveal that he and the rest hang from the branches of a once-fluffy tree that has lost thousands of pointed needle-like leaves clinging to it as it whips around.
Below them twirls the one responsible for actually bringing the total ruination that Adris foretold of moments before to a pompous maid. This shining mystic twirls in place, shouting out the conclusion of the tome that follows to keep in her sight!
“[… everything despised by this lady ended with a final…!]”
(THANK YOU FOR AMENDING A CAVEAT!)
Cyclonic jaws of rock, as if a great wyrm burrowed to the surface to snap its jaws, curl inward to end the earth’s suffering and claim an Invader. A great hole, stretching for many hundreds of yards, sucks into the earth to be a new trash dump for the mostly intact adjacent grounds to slope toward. The loose debris pulled in but not taken bursts upward into a plume when freed of the earth’s call.
The platinum-and-stone-bound tome slams shut. “A final condemnation of inferior enemies, pointedly compared to this lady’s intellect given worthy purpose, be delivered.” Neesiette accepts it back into her arms rather than to fall into the deep scar left below.
(She… really did end everything.)
A meeting place for three areas is now a black void that clearly exceeds the one left by Fehr when departing. Even if Orloss’ little transfer point wasn’t going to be deconstructed, there is no longer a land left to bind it to. What survives of the edges of the wandering botanical gardens skitters away on huge centipedal mechanical legs to avoid tumbling into the divide like the others did.
“… Adris, cut her free.”
“Yes, I’ll pull her up, Ave.”
Adris hoists their prideful weapon of mass destruction up, finding that Neesiette’s face is more serene than smug. Though without Adris’ aid she’s no more than a hanging bag for a neophyte to practice punching on, her look of satisfaction, if not the reason for it, is gratifying to him.
“Quite difficult even the minutest of alterations made to such a grand presentation of Art, care given to preservation of integrity of accompanying personages, an Emperor notes well the kindness and goodness inherent in a lady’s efforts?” Neesiette forces the tome back on Adris, tapping it and then gesturing toward the dirt-belching abyss. “Noticed, no doubt, and found attractive, the useful alteration a lady knew her Emperor would desire?”
“I couldn’t tear my eyes from something more important in danger, so I missed the full show.”
Neesiette’s smile darkens to a frown so quickly, but when Adris’ eyes are only upon her, she glances away and mouths off timidly. “… Disappointing… but, predicted. Attention, devote, next occurrence, ignoring obsession with this lady!”
Adris has little time to untie the Lunamaton, so she becomes more baggage when he kneels to help another lady upright and unwrap the rope from her.
“Not what I expected.”
{… I… no, you.} Still’s free hand points between her mask and his, a tilting of her head. {Your mask… you collapsed. Wouldn’t move…?}
“I won.” Still flinches when struck on the shoulder, even though Adris spares one of his brightest smiles ever offered.
{… You… won?} Somehow a smile sends Still edging away from a wonderful closeness, and then her wandering finger moves to jab at behind Adris.
(I WON. I fooled them! They freed me from my own prison, just because I made them scared!)
“I met our enemy… and she flinched.”
{Which enemy…!? No, forget your “winning”!} Still repeatedly points behind, then yanks on Adris’ wrist to drag him toward the branch that Ave and Kol hang dead from. {THAT’S STILL THERE!}
“Winning is what I…? Ah, right, of course it’d still live.”
Out of the abyss that reaches so deep into the earth’s depths that surely only demonic lizards would climb free of it, a claw lifts out to slam into the remaining stone pathway for lift.
Hundreds of tendrils of white whip from gashes in its mighty armored body, no Vigor spewing. Its terrible wounds instead pour out gallons of white, clinging fluids of some bizarre physiology that considers pus and granules of flesh as blood. Bereft of most of its outer characteristics and entirely blind, a great beast called an “angel” (MOCKERY OF NATURAL LIFE) retains its unnatural existence.
(As expected of a creature designed to fight the Alchemaster.)
It’s so terribly unfortunate (for others) that the side it scaled is opposite of their own, and also that its gossamer wings that filled the air with invisible tension are ripped free from their slits in its tail. Almost nothing remains uncracked about its thick carapace. Its insides almost deliciously jut out.
Adris’ spine tingles, though, when it lifts its claws, clacks them, and then opens them wide to allow curling white strands to glow and grow in length spreading from their centers. These strands tie together into a glowing buildup of dawn-breaking power that melts Adris’ sight before he shies from it.
“It’s tragic, Still, but this is what will occur when a being like myself announces my enmity to the Alchemaster’s favored subordinates…”
{?!?!?}
With Neesiette secured to himself and Still scooped into his arms, Adris leaps to land upon the lower branch hoisting up Ave.
{You. Did. WHAT?} Still’s signs are each almost slaps against his face, but Adris effortlessly dodges them to sigh as if it this is all merely an annoyance.
“I wanted them to understand my threat. We’ve no time for minor threats like angels with direct subordinates in sight.”
“KkkkUUUUURRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
Two blinding lines of materialized rage race across the fleeing gardens, carving a glowing path of removal through them before walls of white fire explode skyward. The heat ripples the low-hanging clouds clinging to the mansion until they part to reveal the blue sky above.
“Let the trash clean up what we pass on, okay, Still?” Adris suaveness is a second thought to maintain, balancing against the air that rushes past while he gifts a wonderful smile.
(Why are you trying to bury yourself in my arms?)
{… 👍} All he gets when pondering her behavior is a quick, petty reply before Still rolls out of his love to slap Ave’s snaky behind. “HYAAAAA!? … HUH!? How is it still…!? STILL, Still!?” The timid snake elf curls around the branch before gasping in horror of the carnage, then lurches to grab Kol and unwinds to drop onto an open trail below. “Get to the bushes, run, ruuuun!”
(Why are you all so scared?)
Blue, red, white, green, the rainbow of death that falls upon the recently shelled lobster fills the morning with bursting explosions and tremulous screams of energy. Servants dressed in their unkempt uniforms of gold and blue accents rush out from the side entrance by the dozens to make a war zone of the new hole in their mansion grounds, trailed by a deluge of various monsters and beasts that immediately shy from their charges upon witnessing the foe.
They are the smart ones, for an entire chunk of the garden breaks apart and slides toward the hole when the lobster leaps forward to slam its cracked claws into the leaders of the Castillo servants. Racing manifestations of chaotic cutters from the claws carve up everyone nearby… and then it really gets angry when plowing through the disjointed horde of more latecomers that push past the retreating stampede of beasts.
Pincering and pounding, ripping and tearing, it spins in circles lariating them with its tail. Only the absolute mercy of Vigor keeps the screaming victims from being tomatoes squished into the stone when its tail slams down.
(Look, it’s too busy chasing after the expected performance of pawns playing at “being the Alchemaster’s favorite stooge”.)
“Stay low, stay silent, Ave is right. They must be pulling every guard from the grounds and mansion.”
Even from the tree a rush through the valley paths of roots is growing, footsteps clambering toward them.
“We’ll slip past while they’re busy being crushed.”
“Untie this lady, my Emperor.”
“In a bit, keep silent, my lady.”
And so Adris disappears into the brush after Ave’s mad flight, racing to overtake the elf and calm her enough to keep to the outer paths. With Kol completely unconscious, their path forward soon depends on Still’s shock recovering enough for the cagey witch to edge past Adris and scout for them with quick signals.
(This will be the easiest escape ever.)
While the mansion becomes a new war zone for others, more and more racing footsteps tearing up the awakening and thickening forested side paths snaking up eventually become nothing but distant calamity. For an hour they trek through the easily ambushed sections of the climb through the huge roots until arriving at the first signs of old civilization in the form of greenhouses in disrepair.
Adris enjoys how he now only has to contend with the road ahead, for his problems just got solved by someone else.
(I won. I really won! Even the Castillo has to admit it!
You can make it harder to punish me, but you can’t take it away…!)
So Adris repeats with glee, ignoring that the blasphemous key within him keeps awakening the architecture and grounds, constantly spreading the hateful Blue-Gold flowers that always smell so deliciously of inner spiritual rot…
(For the first time in a while, I actually pulled one over on the fattest fishes in this acid-filled pond!)
“Such kind trees! ‘Hawkesroost’ descends from Elvish woodlands! These others are just as cute! If they’re all together, then their spirits will protect us! I can… almost make out what they’re saying…?”
So assures the elf swiftly unpacking a bag onto the flat stone circular area set in the center of numerous tree species. Before others tempt to enter the circle, Adris especially marking the innumerable recessed wall sections providing ambush points in this sloping greenhouse with many windows, Avenalliah has set up a bedroll for a patient and thrown a thick metal ingot onto some arranged pieces of broken stonework.
“Is it actually safe?”
{… I don’t… notice anything hazardous here. Yet.}
The fact that the greenhouse even now self-repairs to welcome them is the “yet”, for masonry that cracked and crumbled rewinds its dropped grit to defy gravity. Statues all around reach out as if to embrace from the walls, and crowd to climb the trees when at their bases. A low whistling through from deeper within finally peters out of hearing when Adris dares to cross over the line separating this circular garden from the entrance to the multi-story structure. It would take the five of them days to clear out the complex stretching about with wild angles to hug the giant world tree roots, and every glass chamber hosts a forest within it that they’d be stalked in. That unknown element makes this stay here a hazard beyond the ability to deal with should Ave be wrong.
Light is welcome to rake over those below, but that it spares avenues of shadow because of the trees shading them is unsettling for a conman who just spoke of the dangers of such tricks of perspective. Colors return to life with the power of a brass key directing the Castillo to revive Adris’ surrounding art of a mural of trees with different colored fruits. Scaffolding lies underneath the limbs that are grown to gather in one place as shown by this mural, while beneath balls of the same colors shine upward from the dark floor.
(Why is the floor black?)
With this being the biggest of the greenhouses settled into the roots of the world tree, it also is likely to be the most filled with traps and hidden rapists.
(That outrageous silver bitch was afraid of something, though. The bastard wearing golden glasses wasn’t, but… she was.)
Adris’ long steps leave Still behind so that he can untie Neesiette and gracefully set her upon the floor. Still rushes in after, then shares a look with Adris before her alertness chills.
“It feels normal, Still.”
{You our scout, now?} But Still places her fold-out chest next to the bedroll, anyway.
(I’ve got to get you into trusting Ave’s judgments when she makes them. But Still, you are shapely even if you’re being catty.)
So Adris enjoys the sight of Still kneeling, then leaps to interrupt another. Before Neesiette can even finish opening her mouth, Adris’ hands quickly brush off that fine dress of hers from shoulder to skirt. A quick nod earns Neesiette’s own.
“… Agreeable, truly…? Then, of on—?”
“You always add something new to what we can do, Neesiette. But, it’s still a little too glorious for normal problems, isn’t it?”
“… True, that be.” Neesiette stiffens momentarily, then when Adris pulls a pillow from Ave’s bag to place beside her, the lady settles upon it. “Options this lady shall consider for… more focused primary utility. Develops does a thought regarding this, lingering even.”
“I will only be amazed by your answer, won’t I?” So Adris makes careful inspection to assure himself of everything being perfectly intact about his tiny lady, noting how comfortably Neesiette degrades from prickly to satiated when handed back her evil tome. Snuggling against it, this usually annoyed personage lifts a curious eyebrow at Adris’ close attention to straightening her hair before placing the pack gifted to her by Falke within easy reach.
(Neesiette does look cutest when she has nothing to complain about but tries anyway. I think it’s the way that her facial features change with the light around her? Even the smallest effect on such a precise expression is just like an owl’s gaze. But, no owl is as freaky when naked…!)
A thought of grabbing her, twisting her around, and tearing her dress off her back so that he can kiss it is quickly shut out.
(Where did that come from? Oh, it’s happening again. The curse.)
“That be… expected? Adris?” Adris is away after only a moment of pampering her, because the calculated effect sans lust demands that he produce the look of pure confusion that fills Neesiette when the comb he was using is dropped back into her hands. The frown, too, that appears only for a moment when he aims straight toward Avenalliah, is what he was hoping to earn.
(Neesiette never looking totally happy when I do things is a sign that she’s changed. Toward me. Always judging, just like a real woman would.)
“She couldn’t possibly be defeated, right?”
“Ah… Adris? Well, Kol, probably…?”
“She’ll be fine after tending and resting, Still?”
A springing step at that puts Adris mournfully gazing down at their frontliner along with Avenalliah. Already, Still’s pointed chisel to the back of the ruined armor rattles with a shrieking sound after she strikes it.
The front of this nightmarish armor folds up its shredded tabard and then pops free after enormous pressure grows to force an opening. Seams along its limbs rip open, then the entire assembly regurgitates the unconscious kobold within upon the bedroll before falling backwards into a crushed heap.
{Yeah, nothing worthwhile squeezed inside that a Short won’t cure. Armor is a different tale.}
Adris is quick to make sure that knives don’t come out instead of bottles of ointment, but nods approvingly when Still genuinely pulls out swabs for what she plans to rub on.
(Oh, this is a good time to earn some notice. Something nice for Kol… and…?)
With flourish that keeps it simple, Adris whips out a rolled up blanket to ready at Kol’s side. His expression is hopeful, but saddened by the obvious pain of a girl that twitches violently when touched on her stomach and back.
“Mmm, she would probably want something soft to lay on after that…”
Ave nods vigorously and smiles at Adris’ addition, then he turns from the treatment of Still ripping off Kol’s shirt.
{Let her lay on her brain if she wants the softest experience.} Still signs this before pulling out more sealed jars.
“Thanks for your aid, Still.”
{Not even sure who I should thank for today…?} Still’s comments remain icy with Adris ever since his announcement to her of a “discussion” with the Alchemaster’s minions.
(But you are treating me less like a chump, now, after I told you, so it’s working.)
A truly pensive smile is fixed on Adris’ medic’s mask when Adris pats Ave’s shoulder to pull her away.
“Oh? Right, Still is enough. I’ll… see to food, then? We should eat after running so hard…!”
Given how red and black Kol’s bare skin is when Adris sneaks a peek, Still will be out quite a bit of value, so Adris will have to maximize that return.
(Let’s make sure to thank her in some way, I’d figured she’d try to finish Kol off. But… you can’t finish off what you can’t defeat in your mind! Still needs Kol, at least in here!
Just like that silver chicken couldn’t handle staring me down, people have hidden plans for others…?)
And so Adris guides Ave away, his thoughts still running wild at his meeting, escape, and miraculous survival.
Ave has an iron grate out to set upon the ingot, which now sends up a heat haze around it. A veritable set of cooking instruments get lined up along with dried and whole vegetables.
(Better than fat or wood, it produces heat without smoke!)
Of course, the first cookware onto it from this skittish elf is a teapot.
It’s a sign of her mood how she aims for her bag of leaves that have the most foreign tastes with a huge huff of tension draining upon sniffing; then, she whips around wildly looking for the water skin that was just beside her once reaching for it leaves her hand empty.
“Ah!? Sorry! You’d be thirsty like me…!”
Adris takes a long draught from it, savoring the way that his elf takes in his seating arrangement. With his back propped against a large stone that refused to mend to an arch above after he interrupted it by plopping down, he has a leg pulled up contemplatively, allowing the last drop of water that hits his tongue to cause Ave’s to peek out before hiding again.
(Wide-eyed? Darting to check me out? Yeah, it’s not just me the Castillo is hitting hard on.)
Ave jumps to accept the water skin when Adris motions it at her, nearly spilling her tail over the “fire” she’s setting up. Blushing is a common occurrence for this once-maiden when unnerved by one man in particular.
“Um…?”
“It’s kind of you to offer me tea after trying so hard to defend us, Avenalliah.”
The elf opens her mouth, then looks down at the single cup below. One becomes two in a split second, then Ave pours water into the kettle.
“Yes! I thought… that you could use some tea after waking up!? Are you…?”
(“Okay”? I’m not okay!)
“Yes, I’m very proud of you, Avenalliah.” Another time her name is said, another twitch of the end of her tail. She melts into a smile that seems conflicted, but Adris has an idea of what happened by historical precedent.
“… There’s… nothing to be proud about. We just watched… Kol seemed like she might be okay? But, by the… thirtieth time or so, she stopped howling curses…?” Ave’s hands clench, a sheepish expression when she averts her gaze.
“No-Nobody… was moving… and… then it started trying to peel Kol apart. Even if it felt useless… I thought…
… ‘If nobody else will, then I have to… right?’ But… I wasn’t brave like Kol, I just…!?”
Adris’ hands clasps over hers, a wonderful problem his pet snake is having setting him up for a fine praise to worm into her.
“True bravery is being scared and acting because you are afraid, Ave. Kol isn’t brave, you are.”
“A-Adris…?”
“Doing what you have to in spite of fear makes me appreciate you more.”
(How could I be anything but great? I won, for fuck’s sakes!? She couldn’t claim me! So instead, I’m out here claiming you, again! And I’m actually proud of you! You did something useful without also setting us on fire!)
The elf’s sight won’t leave Adris’ even as the kettle below her starts to whistle low. A stunning smile is Adris’ most potent drug to dole out to this girl in particular. It leaves her many, changing smiles going from shocked, to embarrassed, to happy, and finally to conflicted again with that dopey lust edging in.
A girl that desires a boy’s touch is so easy to please by giving it… just long enough to set her afire again before Adris pulls away to take up his cup.
“After Kol sacrificed herself in duty, you stole for Neesiette the time to bring a decisive victory. All four of you were fighting together, and you led the counter-offensive, Ave.”
“Um… I don’t… think that… bouncing around screaming while it tried to smush me… really counts…”
Yet Ave’s hand that pours hot tea for him first is shaking from sheer joy. Once they’re done and enjoy a sip together in this truly dangerous-seeming repository for elegant, exotic, and evil flowers and trees, the elf relaxes enough to sigh.
“Ah, but, it has to be this medicine from Big Sis that made me strong enough!”
From her bag she pulls out a bottle with a spout that allows a finger to press a button upon it. She presses twice to secrete two blue droplets to plop into her tea, then she finishes it off. Only a slight gagging face is what she gives her “medicine”.
“Uhh…! It… tastes awful, but for the first time in a long time… I wasn’t so frozen up that I couldn’t think! When… I felt like I could do something… I just did it!?”
(Yep, that’s because you have “heroism in a bottle”, if you could explain that to me.)
“Two drops for courage” is what Lycia promised Adris when picking this out for Ave. Every time before that she acted, Avenalliah finally did something useful only when backed into a corner and given no way out.
“I didn’t just… look for a place to…? I was helpful!” Ave refills her tea after saying this in her private language and then starts sorting her ingredients. “My [wind] (SELF) became the same as my breath!”
A fresh meal is absolutely not the priority here before establishing defenses of their camp site, but Adris refrains from dressing down someone who finally accomplished a good deed.
Not because he wants to feel those smiling lips with his fingers, to trace over her cheeks and down her neck.
No, it’s simply because he values her advancement.
It’s not because his tea cup shakes when taking in her slender waist beneath the scaled top she wears, or what lies hidden under her long bottom, it’s…!?
(I’ll fill your quim full of as much seed as you want! Scared of it, but screaming my name for more…)
“Adris…? Does it… still taste good?”
“Tastes like honey.”
“What…!? But… I didn’t add any to your cup?”
(You do, not the tea, down there. All your delicious juices.)
That he could jump on her and force her down, and meet absolutely no resistance, is a long thought in his mind that apparently isn’t private.
(Wait…)
The elf beside him turns a shade of red much deeper, turning back to stare out into the greenhouse and take in the espaliers lining the various surfaces with blooming roses. She also makes no motion to move away when he shifts closer. If anything, she leaves one hand open to be grabbed beside her. With how lazily she’s coiled, Adris could easily trap a long portion of her body to hug to himself.
(… Wait… waitwaitwait, the… goal is to grasp their deeper selves! Not climb on top of Ave… yet.)
That’s why he’s been staring without thinking about lewd things.
At her thin neck and long ears, marking how her strange bloodline leaves her with an attraction that borders on the singular. Zennia has plenty of beautiful women, but none have the same litheness.
It’s these qualities of being an “elf” that Adris will soon need to face and master, for he’s being dragged into their territory. If they are all comparable to Ave, then he will be both prepared and incapable based on what he knows.
(Ave is so unpredictable. Wild one moment, utterly pacified the next. She’s usually wild when something… a fanciful thing takes her? Like elvish lore.)
Especially how she moves is important. What technique, if any, she uses when preparing the vegetables she’s chosen by cutting off the unnecessary parts to slice and fry them. Graceful isn’t normally the word when describing Ave, but she has a certain swiftness when concentrating that makes Adris pant.
(I already want to just lay on top of her and keep thrusting until my balls shrivel up…! Emperor-damned Alchemaster!?
I did not miss your Castillo!)
Reds are like fresh blood spilt anew.
Rose scents are a stimulant to burn the insides of Adris’ nostrils.
Every color since entering is so radiant that his mind will melt, and every touch upon female skin promises him delights if only he’ll surrender his soul to the one offering them.
A curse of greed and lust, mixing in a way that produces what no single name can describe, is far more cloying than he recalls it being.
(It’s fine. I’m fine! Let’s continue to “meet” these girls again. Without being, primarily, a manipulative asshole or a creep who only thinks about fucking them! Just… meet them.)
Just as he planned out after winning and waking, he’s living their moments with them.
Studying every detail rather than leaving them out.
Gifting every bit of his energy to how he stands, sits, and walks among them.
“This was the same tea we had when we discussed how to beat Lycia.”
“… Hmmm!? Yes, I… well, I said I’d have a new tea every time, but… I sort of…”
“I’m glad I could have one of your favorites again.” And so he eagerly sips its refreshing, sanity-raping flavors.
(Even food and drink is heightened here! Oh, did I bring any honey wine!? No, I couldn’t find any more…!)
The chance to sin and enjoy himself leaves Adris putting his hand over his eyes to sigh deeply, for he should be concentrating on the way he’s causing Ave to fret about his attention.
“It… it is… one of my favorites! Was it that obvious… I shouldn’t just do things for myself…”
But the moment is passed to follow up on Ave’s thought, for Still’s treatments are finished. Neesiette, too, seems reluctant to merely pass time and brings out her pack from Falke to fish out all of its contents.
(I want to know what that bastard gave you. Ah, but it’s not manly to be obsessive about a guy I already beat.)
Adris barely restrains his rocking body, once again placing his hand to his head to calm the intrusive thoughts and sigh them away.
“A victory like ours deserves better food for Kol, yes, Ave?”
“E-Eh…? For Kol… is it?”
“Something to cheer her up. She didn’t accomplish as much as you did.”
Ave’s preparations of mushrooms, dark leafy greens, and mild peppers are chopped by now, but the elf only hangs her head over them.
“… I know how to cook, but… I don’t really… touch what Kol wants…”
(Good, good, then it’ll be my favor when I give it instead!)
“Some sizable birds roam around here.” Adris jumps up, walking to the center of the trees to listen to the beats of wings in the distance. A calamity still ongoing has the flying dinners of the Castillo still spooked and active despite the sun being high.
And so, Adris makes for the exit of the greenhouse that is closest to them. “Wait… you’re going alone…!?”
(I’m useful always, that’s what I must show. Me being caged was a good thing, not a bad one!)
{Hold.}
Still imprisons Adris’ wrist, pulling him closer to her. Usually a very pleasurable place to be, Adris draws back when his leg his against her thigh.
(Still, you’re a little too inviting…!
Eh?)
Still too draws back at the same time to get some distance. Both are intimately conscious of the other, though her mask remains a placid smile despite their mutual resonance. Her heart beats with his until she ultimately separates their rhythm with quick gestures.
{You don’t need to go out. I do.}
“Going to find Kol’s poleaxe? I’m looking to save us rations, however.”
The sneak shrugs at that, although how she collapses her stance a bit reads to Adris as a deep despair. Doing practically anything for Kol is evil by Still’s morals.
{Here ain’t your hunting grounds. Why don’t you play here with the kids?}
(Because I have a position to uphold.)
That position is “not useless”. A decision was made by Adris regarding his own worthiness, especially when facing his mortality.
He kindly forces his wrist into her hold, breaking through her fingers in slow motion.
“Still, aiming for the highest position means making sure those above cannot sleep well because of the threat.”
{Few of the gilded bastards need to sleep, though? You do.}
While Ave can only look between them while testing a sauce that she’s mixing, it’s Neesiette that glances up from her own work of sorting parts and pieces of her destroyed rod to notice the underlying premise.
(I don’t have to replace them or be the highest, Still, but even if I plan to slum in Petripolis, they have to fear what I might be doing!)
“So, I needed to remind them of that reason while I’m awake. Like we discussed.”
{Then, glad you put them right about us. Now, sit…}
Adris collapses to the floor when pushed, rolling onto his back and enjoying how the witch that stands over him points downward.
{… and let those who are damn good at sneaking do their part. Two pheasants fine?}
Still struts away without a care, two fingers held up at the end of her signs. When Adris matches that “two” gesture, she waves him off and then dashes out of the circle of trees to leap into a line of shadows.
Nothing nearby even shifts with her vanishment into rippling black.
(Wish I could do that. Then she couldn’t hide from me when I chase after—)
Again Adris hands come to his cheeks to hold them tight.
“Ow!? It’s really hot already all over… I guess I really did buy a real Kainen-made grate!” Ave burns a finger on the grate when putting a skillet over it, yet Adris doesn’t rush to her side like his racing blood shouts to do.
Adris can only take in their particulars, lean into their moods, learn all he can of their truest selves.
A conversation at a time; a day shared before the next.
(Stop thinking too hard! It’s already going well. Actually it’s… interesting to just relax.)
So Adris commits to enjoying his time with the both of them until Kol wakes up or Still returns.
“… A note be there… in truth. Particular… assurances made. Contact in future deemed… not impossible…?”
Neesiette’s reticence about explaining the note in her pack, one that Adris holds after noticing it lying beneath the bag so that it would be expertly covered, has only one real explanation after all.
It can only result in fire and jealousy, demands and annoyances!
Especially since Neesiette is so terrible at dissuading others of the impact of those words. Even now, she stares at nothing but the letter, ignoring the man who would be her lover (in training) holding it.
As yet unopened.
(“Now, I have to read it in front of her and yell once I prove she’s cheating on me with another person via this letter! This is normal…” That is, of course, what a lesser man would think.)
“It’s good that all contact wasn’t lost with Falke, right? Staying friendly with his creations plays well.” And so Adris uses the opportunity to pat Neesiette’s cheek, grinning before looking away without so much as any further interest to ponder something else.
“I-Indeed?” Neesiette accepts the letter given back to her, clutching it to her chest before placing it back into her pack in full view of Adris. “One’s… no, beneath thought such matters be for an emperor. Expected, such sublime confidence.”
A polite smile turns into a warmer, almost full one. Then, Neesiette’s attention goes to her rod and the orb beside it that speaks with the earth’s voices once opened. “Perhaps…? No, requested, ideas concerning this lady’s concept to be shared of one’s own? Failing to annihilate in one use all conceivable enemies now does [Brings An End] when revised by this lady, for safety’s sake an unfortunate exchange.”
“I know far less about magical tools than a master such as yourself, but I have certain thoughts that might excite you?”
(I’m really… actually pretty good at reading women when I want to be…?)
So Adris sits back, waiting for moments of warmth to play out.
Aiding Avenalliah with chopping or offering tips on how best to coat the vegetables to fry up just right without losing juicy crispness.
Sliding closer to Neesiette to learn the inner workings of an object he’ll never use or make himself. Wondering at her plans of combining a metal called “amalgamite” with pieces that she’s been told by a master crafter cannot be reconnected.
His hands wandering despite his efforts.
A brush across the cheek of a small lady to put errant hair back beneath her crown.
Upon the emerald tail of a long serpent who shivers so long as it remains there.
So long as they remain innocuous and private, even Neeseitte makes no stink about it except to stare sidelong with mild contempt as she explains her idea.
Basking in and being melted by the sensations, sights, sounds, and smells all around him without anything on his mind to press forward with for a plot is absolutely boring.
So boring that his burning mind fills the time with as much information as he can stuff into it about their insignificant intricacies…
(This is something… new. I have other people around me… and they’re not going. They’re close, so I have to correct this distance I made!)
If they are allowed to take a mad descent into Serras’ mania, Adris will be truly responsible for carrying over his sins.
To prevent this he must meet them head on.
Guide them, yes, but also not hide from anything bad or ridiculous or mundane…!
(There’s nothing fake about leading others to spilling everything about themselves, then using that to make them fall right into your hands, and then…!)
“Adris…?”
Finally, too close to another’s cheeks so that he can help her flip her skewers, Avenalliah stares elsewhere while he can only take in the sweat on the nape of her neck. The heat of the ingot shimmering below them has his own pants and tunic clinging to match the stickiness of her gossamer sashes.
(I’m going to kiss you until you can’t breathe anymore, because all your “wind” will belong to me…!)
“Boss.”
Adris leans in closer still despite a stronger voice saying something like his name. Scared eyes flash between him and somewhere else, dried lips remoisturizing with a lick of them as his target pulls back.
Ave claimed it was safe here, and now she has to prove it by shedding her protection and—!
“Boss.”
“… Yes, Kol. You’re recovered.”
Adris is shocked by who grabs his cloak to pull him toward her. Turned into almost a fine paste, the time required to recover has somehow elapsed. A pint-sized knight wearing nothing but her pants and the wrappings thickened by Still’s pungent ointments over her front stares hard at him.
Kol pulls Adris up from the ground almost. Her nostrils flaring prove she’s more than just recovered. Kol’s skin is healthy and her face slightly red. A long scaled tail with a white wisp at the end flicks about with energy. Abs taut with her energy flex freely when Kol leans over to sniff him.
(… You’re okay…)
Adris’ heart jolts at how much confirming that makes him happy. That Kol would survive life-threatening abuse is a Zennian rule, not one from Xin. Seen often enough in action to prove it, it’s still like waking to a ghost of someone you watched perish come to visit you after nightfall.
“Boss, Kol, heard what Boss said while not moving? About… food?”
(HOW WERE YOU AWAKE!?)
Though she has what’s left of a black eye fading, Kol hazards a toothy grin. “Really? True, make Kol meat? Tastiest tribute?”
“For you? It’s more that meat for your master was needed.” Dignity is remembered despite Adris’ breathing becoming an uncontrollable beast. Kol’s own, strangely, seems high, though she’s still recovering from pain so Adris hazes over that. “Disciples eat what their masters do, for we share the same victories. That’s all this is, Kol.”
“Kol, likes that, weird no-difference, but different!”
It’s Kol that acts strangely by kneeling before Adris and leaning in respectfully.
“… Manly.”
(I’m pretty manly, just let me whip out what you’ve tasted aga—!
No, no, no, calm down!)
“Actually… Kol… wants to do something for Elf like Boss does for Kol.” The braggart that normally howls everything on her mind instead whispers so lightly that Ave’s pointed ears twitch to hear. Stuck licking a stirring spoon, the elf stares blankly at them both as if she just barely heard her name. “To… thank, for good job. Kol’s minion deserves, too!”
(Huh?)
“Fruits around here, Black Tide says they’re the best. Apples, pears, grapes on big vines up high! Elf found Big Bird’s secret, too, so let’s get more tasty things?” Kol’s breath on his ear is hot.
(You’re… you’re doing something for not you!?)
“… I… that’s good, Kol. This vessel can create a glaze for meat from apples, so those are tasty treats to steal from evil beings.” Adris separates with a push, the world hazy around him. The wide variety of smells seem distant. Only one is tasted now.
“I’d be happy to taste glazed meat with a mortal’s tongue, again. But, we should be cautious of enemies…?”
“Kol, protect. Want to eat Boss’ meat!” She pumps her fist, looking left and right to Neesiette and Ave for backup. Her eyes narrowed such that neither reply. “Kol with Boss, nobody can beat, right~?”
(Well. Yeah, nothing could be of much danger with Kol to throw at it…)
Adris has no chance to hear their agreement once his own is set.
A smell drives him. Once to his feet, there’s almost a dreamlike state to how he starts forward in the direction of one of the adjoining chambers of the greenhouse.
(If Kol is actually growing, then I suppose I have to feed that!)
“I’ll be back. Tell Still.”
“Oh!? Ok… Adris? Be careful about what you eat…”
Kol is at his side, bumping into him with a certain defensive ferocity to how Kol stomps around.
“Boss, fell asleep, left Kol doing everything, kakaka!”
A laughing complaint leaves Adris nearly biting his tongue, but he glosses over it.
After all, he has a lot to learn about them all. Including why Kol would possibly blame him for jumping to her own doom.
Kol is…?
(More than just a knight… what makes you sme—act! Showing rare consideration after stupidity, why did you decide to start doing that…?)
Characters:
Name: Adris fehl Dain, “Boss”, “Starr”
Titles: Lycia’s Little Brother, Slayer, Gigolo (Self-Admitted)
Race: Xin’El, Emperor’s Child (Human), ???
Sex: Male
Age: ?? – Young
Occupation: Crossbearer; “Star of Ruin, Cast Down from the Sky Upon a Dying World”, Slayer of Petripolis, [True False God]
Discipline: [Rule in Dark]
Powers:
[Tool Savant] – “Adris is a tool-collecting-and-utilizing fanatic. Most men would consider him disgusting for loving tools more than his own partner. Has so many tools that it can be said to be his true power. What does he do when he has no tools left? He seeks to acquire more, obviously!”
[Rule in Dark – Wave of Darkness] – “Making victory possible? No, no, no. That thing isn’t that kind! There’s more than that!”
[Brainfry] – “You’re still with me, right buddy? Yeah, you’re still there.”
[Refuse to Kneel] – “Ah, even the Alchemaster can’t make me submit! This is the one that’s saved me all those times!?”
[Tongue of Air and Darkness] – “What’s the difference between this and the old one? Why ‘air’?”
[Conceptual Refusal] – “How the fuck does dominating people’s minds turn into a weird statement like this!?”
[Marital Arts – Self-taught] – “Hoh, even if it’s dangerous to use, it feels good to prove to myself that the body is still as willing as the mind! Even if I can’t call it aura, something is inside me now!”
[Verisimilitude] – “Stop giving weird names to what I do! But if my imaginative truths are more believable now, I’m not gonna complain.”
[A WONDERFUL CURSE] – “If that old corpse wasn’t already dead, I’d definitely kill him!”
[Authentic Fiction] – “All tales eventually gain sufficient truth if retold often enough, right? Why shouldn’t my fiction be better than ‘reality’?”
Items:
[Lord of Predation] – “BECOME NOTHING MORE THAN FOOD OR PLEASURE FOR ME!”
[The Mountain King] – “[Honor the gods, inheritor, and ever seek victory for their sake.]”
[Amethyst Oracle] “A present from this stuck up hoarder!? Am I gonna die if I use it!?”
Disposition: Resilient / Adaptable / Sinner
Alignment: Chaotic
Eyes: Black
Hair: Black, with strands of White
Skin: Tanned
Statistics:
Rantil Value – “Even after all of that, Master is still an idiot!”
Attributes by Grade:
Strength – E
Vitality – E
Dexterity – D
Agility – C
Intelligence – D
Mentality – C
Luck – F
Charisma – D
“If you want more, stop being mean to Rantil!”
Beauty:
Cethran Value – “Much the same as before, but isn’t the way you look at others a bit more dashing, now? Forced to open yourself to the world, perhaps the gentleman may grow? That is likely impossible, isn’t it, Adris?”
“Will you perhaps add Aurumia to your harem?”
“So you choose the rose-petal-laden, blood-spattered path?”
Description:
“A boy who is a bit out of place as far as features, he descended from the top of the Castillo to the bottom by pluck, luck, and outrageous lying. Reborn into the world of Zennia, what can be said other than ‘he’s still exactly the same, but different’?”
“Things lost, things gained, the two must be weighed to see if you are ahead or behind.”
“When did you decide to be a master lover?”
Commentary:
“Learns a little, still an asshole.”
Name: “Kol” fehl Dain, “Pink”
Titles: Idiot, “Tyrant Knight”
Race: Kobold, ???
Sex: Female
Age: ???
Occupation: Delver, Frontliner, ???
Discipline: Tyrant Squire
Powers:
[Invisible Edge] – “Axe goes through everything?”
[Full Contact] – “Wanna go!? Kol, let fists talk!”
[“Ride on Dread”] – “THE WORLD, BELONG KOL! KAKAKA!”
[“Tyranny”] – “EVERYONE, SEE KOL’S AUTHORITY!”
[Lost Paradise] – “EVERYTHING BURNS SO VIVIDLY! SUCH GREAT COLORS!”
[ ?DARKNESS? ] – “▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒……!!!”
Items:
[“Dreadful Armor”] – “This is where Kol will live and die. When Kol roars, armor roars, too!”
[Halberd of the Whirlwind] – “GET OVER HERE!”
Disposition: Straightforward / Confrontational / Respectful
Alignment: Neutral
Eyes: Pink
Hair: White
Skin: Tanned
Statistics:
Rantil Value –
Attributes by Grade:
Strength – C-?!?
Vitality – C-?!?
Dexterity – E
Agility – F
Intelligence – F
Mentality – C
???
Beauty:
Cethran Value – “Are you attracted to rampaging metal? Though in your case, you appreciate the voice, don’t you? Do you long to see more? If she reminds you of a certain someone, then…?”
“Yet it’s the one that survives anything that you feel like you should protect?”
“Shouldn’t you be asking more questions before leaping?”
Description:
“Brash and forthright, a warrior wielding an axe with two hands forsakes protection to deliver only harm. Contrary to this impression, she also seems interested in a straight up fight. If her words are any indication, she offers little thought to her actions.”
“Eager to show that she can achieve learning the important things. If only to become the boss.”
“Axe-mad and built like a tank.”
Commentary:
“There’s no way she’s being generous, right?”
Name: Avenalliah Aurmaris
Titles: Lustful Lizard, Elf
Race: Elf
Sex: Female
Age: Young
Occupation: Delver, Scared Girl
Discipline: ???
Powers:
[“Sylvan Calling”] – “The spirits play when they want to! … They really do! Why are you looking at me like that!?”
[Preternatural Strikes] – “Um, I’ve always been pretty good with a whip? Elves use a lot of weapons! I just like… my whip…?”
[Monstrous Strength] – “EH!? Why is it monstrous!? Elves aren’t monsters!”
[“Unknown Angel”] – “Ave doesn’t feel especially blessed…”
[Elvish Venom?] – “Hm? Well, Ave doesn’t really know, but if you have fangs, shouldn’t you have venom?”
Disposition: Joyful / Impressionable / Cowardly
Alignment: Neutral
Eyes: Crystal Green
Hair: Moss Green
Skin: White
Statistics:
Rantil Value –
Strength – C
Vitality – D
Dexterity – C
Intelligence – C
Mentality – F
Luck – A
Charisma – C
???
Beauty:
Cethran Value – “While not possessing your newly favorite curves, isn’t a girl with a naive charm also fine? Because she covers so little, you are also left without having to imagine what you could possess, yes?”
“Will you expect her to fight over you? How will that occur… and for what purpose?”
“Stealing the wind may be hardest from an elf, or have you not noticed the air of mystery regarding that way of describing her?”
Description:
“As cheerful as she is skittish, Avenalliah fits an unknown position within the four delvers’ group. Though she carries a large sack, that would hardly count as a position… right?”
“Can learn to not be expressive, even if it is torment.”
“Also apparently can cook, though that should be expected from a child kept hidden in the earth.”
Commentary:
“A little pure bravery dropped onto the coward plant… but is forcing an end to fear really smart…?”
Name: Still, “Cyrene Stillwater”
Titles: Puddle
Race: Undead?
Sex: Female
Age: Young Lady?
Occupation: Delver, Trickster/Outfighter
Discipline: Accursed Avenger
Powers:
[“Reprisal Strike”] – {You had it coming, deciding you could oppose me and walk away from it.}
[“Surprising Agility”] – {Is it honestly surprising by now? Walls are just another surface~!}
[Nectar] – {How does my suffering taste, spawn of “cursed blood”!?}
[Shadowplay] – {How did you forget that shadows are also a doorway, Adris?}
[Undead Fortitude?] – {Do you think that what has no life cares about your pathetic strikes?}
Disposition: Playful / Sadistic / Skulking
Alignment: Chaotic
Eyes: ???
Hair: ???
Skin: ???
Statistics:
Rantil Value –
Attributes by Grade:
Strength – E
Vitality – E
Dexterity – C
Agility – C
Intelligence – C
Mentality – D
Charisma – E
???
Beauty:
Cethran Value – “Do you really think it’s not obvious? What she possesses is what you’ve missed all your life, yes? Breasts and curves… are these not a new fruit for you to taste?”
“Rather than the knife, you are receiving the mentality readjustment?”
“Adris, should you not be worried about others doing favors for you? Shouldn’t this be the first hint of forthcoming danger?”
Description:
“A mute girl who says much with gestures, she also has more going on than she seems to. Though not outwardly aggressive, there’s an atmosphere of danger about her. Opposite of Kol, hers is subtle… Yet, she also can protect others. Given to acrobatics, it matches with her dark, but flamboyant, colors.”
“A new level of confidence, and a softening of the old edges, but at what price…?”
“Running up a hill isn’t something that human girls do.”
Commentary:
“Why are you being so nice? Huh? You got something going on?”
Name: Neesiette vera Luna
Titles: “Moon”
Race: Lunamata
Sex: Female
Age: ???
Occupation: Delver, Mystic
Discipline: ???
Powers:
[Rod of Force] – BUSTED
[Rod of Respelling] – “A lady be every ready to instruct regarding what be in error.”
[“Brings An End” – Ponderous] – “[Ponderous was the end, for the unfair passage of time finally brought even earth to its conclusion]…”
Disposition: Impassive / Calculating / Curious
Alignment: Ordered
Eyes: Pale Violet
Hair: Amber
Skin: Pale White
Statistics:
Rantil Value –
Strength – F
Vitality – F
Dexterity – D
Agility – E
Intelligence – B
Mentality – C
Luck – F
Charisma – C
???
Beauty:
Cethran Value –”First imps, and now short girls? This is certainly becoming a pattern, isn’t it? Though you might not fare badly with a girl as beautiful as this, yes? Though she’s a little perfect, doesn’t she seem oddly demure?”
“How will you ever possibly survive the expectations which necessitate ‘perfection’?”
“Are you quite certain that you wish to marry a mobile Lunarian disaster, Adris?”
Description:
“An otherworldly existence, she wears clothing that doesn’t fit with the Castillo. With mannerisms quite distinct from all others, even the girls she travels with seem incomparable to her uniqueness. Yet, she definitely seems to be in charge…?”
“Freed from imprisonment in a paradise she might enjoy, and happy to be back with the herd.”
“Insidious is the person that perpetuates your view of the world to keep you contented.”
Commentary:
“She absolutely loves to destroy things.”