Chapter 85: Messed Up (Patreon)

Author's Note:

I'll be honest, I'm not very happy with this one. I spent a lot of time on it, and it never felt very good. It does what I want it to do, but it feels forced, rushed, and a little out of place. Or, rather, some of the interactions feel canned and cheesy, or else maybe not believable for a real world. I guess that's just one of the flaws of my writing, as I've never been really good at epic staging or posturing.

That being said: the real reason I don't like this chapter is because I'm nervous how people will take it. There are 3 points in this story that I worry about, to the point it gives me anxiety. This is supposed to be (and is 90% of the time) a light and fluffy adventure. There are 3 points where it is not. The first was back during the reveal, the next is this mini arc (the last two chapters and the next), and the final one is yet to come. I'm dreading the final one, because I'm afraid I'm going to lose a lot of my casual audience over it, no matter how I frame it. Some of you might say: then why write it at all? Because it's a crucial part of the story. It's that story. I hope to be able to tell it in such a way that makes sense and feels real, but I'm still nervous all the same.

But that point isn't for at least another dozen or so chapters, maybe more. Why bring it up? Honestly, I debated writing this fore-word at all. But, since you, the Patreon readers, are my core audience, I felt comfortable airing my fears without being judged too hard. Please, if you need to judge, feel free. I trust that, by now, you all have an understanding of my writing style, what this story is all about, and the core values Melia brings. I would say enjoy the chapter, but, well...here it is. Thanks for reading!

“Your father tells me you aren’t interested in betrothal,” Marquis Thorpe said as soon as [Sunrise] was seated in the parlor. At first, he looked reluctant to allow the rest of Ellesea’s team to join her, but it wasn’t his house, and he seemed to reconsider as his eyes fell on the [Saint]. But if his greed stemmed from controlling a living legend, he hid it well. Instead, his focus was entirely on Ellesea…but he wasn’t looking at her as a person. Closer to something he needed to acquire.

“As I’ve said, Marquis, my daughter’s hand is not for sale,” Count Barnes said with a tired sigh. “Her future is entirely up to her.”

“All the more reason to speak to her personally,” Marquis Thorpe said. Ellesea had to give her father credit; she didn’t think he’d stand up to a Marquis so brazenly. He wasn’t exactly a pushover, but the gap between their stations was simply too great. Still, the Marquis’ words made her skin crawl as much as they made her shudder.

Why her? Why now?

As far as families were concerned, there were many more qualified and prestigious nobles in Horizon with storied histories and venerable lineages. Realistically, her family offered little value in a political marriage, as they weren’t particularly wealthy and owned little land. Their titles were administrative; some barons had more to offer in terms of sheer estate volume.

There were two reasons Ellesea could think of for why the Marquis was suddenly interested, and both felt rather grim. He must have heard about her rising level, which bore its own set of complications, or else somehow knew who she kept for company.

Judging from the way he glanced at Eluna Brandywine, Ellesea assumed the worst.

“Marquis Thorpe, my father is correct,” Ellesea said in a level tone. “I am not interested. I’m afraid I must decline.”

“Now, let’s not be hasty,” he insisted with a grin. “I have several sons, I am sure one of them will strike your fancy-“

“Look, buddy,” Jessica cut in. “She said no.”

Ellesea sucked in a sharp breath and her father looked like he wanted to faint. While not particularly high-level himself, the Marquis was someone he did not want to cross. As the ruler of the march separating Gold Coast from the demon lands, his army was more powerful than most. Some believed it rivaled the strength of Horizon’s standing force, and that included the Royal Guard.

“This is a personal affair,” the man scowled, doing his best to maintain a level tone. “Keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong.”

“Yeah, well, you made this my business,” Jessica said hotly, standing up. “Ellesea is our teammate. We watch out for our own, and she said no. Elsie…do you want to marry this dude’s kids?”

“No?” Ellesea replied shakily. She was grateful to Jessica, really…but in the moment, she wanted to be anywhere but here. Jessica seemed to think for a moment.

“Do you want to marry this dude?”

“No!” Ellesea practically wailed.

“Then that settles it,” Jessica declared. “End of story. No means no. Now come on, let’s go. Count Barnes, thank you for your hospitality, but we’ll be leaving now.”

Jessica reached forward and yanked Ellesea to her feet. The [Mage] allowed herself to be dragged all the way outside before she recovered. Jessica didn’t stop pulling until they passed the gates of the Barnes estate, at which point, the whole group seemed to slump into a tight-knit pile.

“Jessica,” Ellesea whined, her voice rising in pitch due to overwhelming worry. “What was that? Do you have any idea of who that was?”

“Yeah,” Jessica replied, and to Ellesea’s shock, Jessica sounded subdued. The [Hunter] had her hand stuck out and she was staring at the back of her palm, likely checking for her nerves. But her hand remained perfectly still, not a single shake to be seen.

“Honestly,” Jessica began. “I surprised myself. Don’t get me wrong, Marquis Thorpe is almost as famous as Duke Holstein for how ruthless he can be. Normally, I wouldn’t have said anything…I’m not sure what came over me.”

Jessica paused and let her hand fall. Her face fell into shadow as she took on a dark grin.

“Actually, I know exactly what happened. I rode on the back of a giant-ass dragon and sat on her head as she ate a rank 10 [Thunder Lizard] that farts lightning bolts. After that, things sort of lose their impact.”

“Yes, well, Meliastraza isn’t here right now, is she?” Ellesea sighed. She could understand Jessica’s shift in understanding, but it didn’t feel good for her self-preservation.

“Don’t worry,” Eluna said. “Jess is right. We look out for our own. We’ll find an inn together and stay the night, and we won’t leave you until your class in the morning. Sound fair?”

Ellesea’s confidence slowly eroded as the afternoon wore on. And not just hers; the entire group’s. They found no fun in any side activity they tried to enjoy, and every little shadow started to make them jump. It did not help that the normally sunny summer in Horizon seemed to be experiencing a squall. Dark clouds appeared over parts of the city, and though they managed to avoid the worst of it, large chunks of Horizon were drowning in a sudden downpour. The turn in the weather dampened their spirits and brought intolerable humidity, making the muggy air hard to breathe and soaking them to the bone with sweat. To make things worse, it seemed all the inns they tried to stay at were either all booked up or had no vacant rooms. If she didn’t know any better, Ellesea would have said there was a plot to keep them out in the open, stressed and on edge.

It turned out, she was right.

It would be impossible for a city the size of Horizon to be completely sold out of inn rooms. Not even at the height of any seasonal festival or celebration would there ever be so many tourists or visitors that they realistically couldn’t find a place to stay.

After the fourth time being turned away (from increasingly less reputable inns), they found themselves standing in a less-than-desirable neighborhood. It wasn’t a slum by any means, but Jessica wasn’t surprised as they were surrounded by a small group of thugs.

“What is this?” Jessica asked. “Highway robbery?”

Six men in heavy jackets with scarves over their faces slowly closed in, blocking off any convenient way around them.

“We like to think of it as…asset relocation,” said one.

“No, I get you,” Jessica nodded safely. “From your pocket to mine? Only, the other way around.”

“This girl gets it,” said another. “It’s so much easier when they understand. We prefer it if we don’t need to conduct business in the middle of a busy street,” he said, giving a small nod to a nearby alley.

“Fat chance,” Jessica spat. The man simply shrugged. “I’m up front with my business.”

“Suit yourself,” he said.

Jessica instantly reached for her bow, which she usually stashed inside her inventory while walking around the city. Most establishments didn’t like it when people carried weapons openly through their doors. She was regretting that now, not only because it would take her an extra second to nock an arrow, but because she suddenly got hit by a burst of magic.

[Disable].

Jessica cursed, abandoning her attempt to access her main weapon. [Disables] were a distinctly Human skill, pretty much useless when fighting monsters. For a short time, it blocked any attempt to access a system inventory. Jessica didn’t have time to think; she was already leaping toward the closest thug, fist clenched and ready to fight dirty.

Alastair had managed to raise a shield, but that was it. Fortunately, it was enough to protect their squishier members, unaccustomed to close combat.

Or so she thought.

In a supremely surprising move, a flash of pink rushed by her, accompanied by a warlike scream. Jessica and her thug both paused mid-grapple, stunned to see Eluna latch onto a man and tackle him to the ground, wrapping her body around him in such a way that immobilized his arms and legs.

“You…think…I’ll…let you…get away…with this?” She hissed as he struggled futilely. The entire mob seemed frozen as the feral healer choked the guy out, a gurgling, frothy moan escaping from his lips. Jessica was so unnerved, she forgot she was supposed to be locked in combat, and the second the thug on the floor lost consciousness, his eyes rolling up the back of his head, his companions booked it.

Jessica looked up at the sound of pattering feet, surprised but ultimately unbothered.

“That…happened.”

“So…what do we do about the body?” Ellesea asked, nudging the man on the floor with her toe.

“Relax, he isn’t dead,” Eluna said, straightening out and returning to her normal, serene persona.

“Oh, good,” Y’cennia said, wringing her wrists. She wasn’t used to getting into fights like this; she was clearly on edge. “Maybe they can help?”

Jessica looked where the catkin was pointing, to a group of city guards running toward them.

“Uhh, Cennie,” Jessica gulped. “I don’t think they’re here to help.”

“Should we run?” Ellesea quickly whispered.

“Stop! You’re under arrest!”

“Too late,” Jessica groaned. “Trust me, it’s better if you follow along. Besides, they got nothing on us. It was self-defense.”

“How do you know?” Ellesea asked.

Jessica smiled wryly. “Experience.”

“Hey!” Jessica screamed as she rattled a small stick against the bars of a prison cell. “I wanna talk to the garrison guard! You can’t just hold us like this!”

Her protests fell on deaf ears.

There was a pair of guards standing watch over the small, underground garrison prison, but they didn’t acknowledge her. They didn’t even look at her.

But so far, they didn’t try charging them with anything either, which was a little weird. Normally, whoever was on duty would fetch a supervisor or a clerk, and the first thing that would happen was they’d read her charges. Usually, it had something to do with getting drunk and stumbling into a fistfight, for which she’d need to pay a few coppers as a fine, depending on the circumstances. Sometimes they’d let her off with community service if her actions were more of a nuisance than harmful.

Here, not only was [Sunrise] not in the wrong, they were being detained without explanation. Jessica wasn’t much for politics, but she was pretty sure there were laws about this. Just like there were laws about what nobles could do to commoners.

Because, as it turned out, in a wild move Jessica was sure also wasn’t legal, they threw their attacker in the same cell. He was slumped against the wall opposite them, and Eluna was burning him with the third-degree glare. As soon as he woke up, he raised his hands in surrender and stayed put.

Currently, he wasn’t much of a threat. None of them were. Part of getting processed through a jail cell meant getting shackled with an inhibitor bracelet. It was an uncomfortable iron ring that clamped around her wrist and constantly inflicted her with two debuffs: [Silence] and [Disable].

Unlike the [Silence] effect back in the [Palace of Darkness], this didn’t make a person mute. It did, however, seal all spells and abilities. On top of not being able to access her inventory, there was little Jessica, or most people, could do.

As such, the man on the floor decided to spill some beans. After Jessica had loudly protested their innocence for an innumerable time, the man spoke up.

“Give it a rest,” he spat. “I’ve got a headache.”

“You want another one?” Eluna threatened while furrowing her huge eyebrows. “I can make that happen.”

“Easy,” the man backed off. “Look, it was nothing personal. We got paid to do a job, didn’t mean nothin’ else by it.”

“Personal?” The elf hissed. “I will personally shove my very long leg up your very short-“

“Eluna,” Alastair calmed. “Let it go. It’s over.”

“I’m watching you,” she grumbled, walking to the furthest corner away from him.

“What do you mean, a job?” Jessica probed. She knew of hits, heard they happened all the time. Never expected one to be put out on herself.

“Ah ah ah,” the man teased. “I’m a professional. Can’t be giving up clients like that. Let’s just say, he wears fancy pants and he was none too pleased to be talked down to by the likes of us common folk. Apparently, he had other business to discuss with your [Mage], and he didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“That son of a-,” Jessica fumed. “A noble put you up to this? Did Marquis Thorpe hire you?”

The man shrugged.

“You should know better than to go and accuse a noble of something like that. Besides, what noble in their right mind would hire a group like ours? Came through a different party. We got paid to do a job, and a job we did.”

“Hope your boss got his money back,” Jessica scoffed. “Shoddy craftsmanship.”

“You know,” the man said, slowly rising up. “You’ve got a real mouth on you. If I had to do it again, I’d give ‘im a discount.”

“That so?” Jessica challenged. “Wanna go for round two?”

She marched toward the guy to stare him in the eye. She wasn’t afraid…

…until the man suddenly stood up, forcefully digging his fist into her gut as he did so.

Jessica let out a dumbfounded oof, but to her great horror, as she pushed herself away and brought her hand to her abs, she felt a warm, wet sensation slicking her fingers. She looked down, barely believing the red stain slowly spreading across her shirt. A small splinter of metal, a crude shiv made from some rusted scraps, was sticking out of her gut.

“Should’ve kept your mouth shut,” the man cackled, slumping back down.

Jessica’s ears were ringing. She could see her health pool, mostly full but very slowly falling, afflicted with a [Bleeding] debuff.

“Guard!” She heard Y’cennia yell.

“Hey, get this off me!” Eluna chimed in. “Let me heal her!”

But suddenly, none of that mattered. A great and terrible roar, what could only be described as the herald of doom, shook the entire city.

Grrrrrraaaaaaaaughhhhh!!!!!!

The whole world froze. The guards, several steps in their walk to investigate the commotion in the cell, instantly dropped to the floor. The man clasped his head and shouted in pain.

Grrrrrraaaaaaaaughhhhh!!!!!!

A second time, the cry went out. Deep, guttural, primal. A force of nature. But for some reason, she was unaffected. At least not to the extent of the man or the guards. It seemed all of [Sunrise] was.

And then Jessica remembered. One time, almost a month ago, she had heard something very similar to this. In a ballroom, when she and her team had been poisoned.

She looked at the man, wiped a fleck of saliva away from the corner of her mouth, and smiled wickedly.

“My dude, you done messed up.”

Moeldywn paced irritably across her office, her mood mimicking the clouds outside.

Reckless. Foolish. Impulsive.

These weren’t words she’d usually use to describe herself, but she was contemplating doing something she swore long ago she would never do. At least in any normal circumstances.

The last few weeks could hardly be considered normal compared to the last 70 or 80 years. The political climate was growing so unstable that it seemed to be affecting the actual weather. Moeldywn told herself, long ago, after her dear Philip passed away, she would not involve herself in politics to the same degree she once did. Not unless her heirs were once again in danger of eradication, and the current King Philip’s policies were growing dangerously close to actively harming himself.

Relinquishing control was more than simply passing on her crown; it was about proving to herself that she was more than a petty tyrant. Better than her cousin. Moeldywn was content to remain in the shadows and dip her fingers into muddy pools and pluck at strings attached to intriguing enigmas. So many interesting secrets lie hidden beneath unsuspecting boulders and stuffed into cracks where the light could not shine.

The situation in the demon lands was not one of them. It was decidedly something that needed to come to light as soon as possible. Letting the demons fester was like inviting a tumor to grow in the middle of a person’s chest. Ugly, visible, and after a while, lethal. In this case, it was also completely preventable. All the King’s offices had to do was look at her reports. And yet, Moeldywn’s intelligence told her they had barely responded when news came and told them the human ambassador had fled the demon castle. If things were bleak enough that the ambassador’s position was no longer secure, it was safe to say a serious contention for the demonic throne was on the horizon.

No, this was a step too far.

Philip had told the man he’d send a carriage. A carriage. From the capital of the human lands to the capital of the demon lands! Such a trek would take months! It was essentially telling the ambassador, “Thank you for your service, here’s your severance fee.”

A direct transit on the Aetherlines from the demon capital to Horizon was costly, Moeldywn could admit. When last she checked, it was slightly over 4 platinum, roughly 430 gold. It was a prohibitively expensive fee, but it would not break the treasury to issue a single payment. Certainly, the ambassador’s exemplary performance over the years had earned him that much.

It was time to intervene.

Moeldywn made her way from her estate, across the grounds, and through the castle’s halls. She passed guards and civil servants, guests and visitors (noble and commoner alike) as she made her way with single-minded intensity toward the royal court. People took one glance at her stormy visage and scrambled to get out of her path. When she reached the doors to her grandson’s chambers, two Royal Guards barred her way.

“Let me pass,” she commanded. In response, they clutched their weapons tighter and pointed them at her. “It seems you have elected the path of pain.”

King Philip was having a mediocre day. There was supposed to be a polo match in the afternoon that he was looking forward to attending, but the sudden squall canceled it. Apparently, the [Mages] couldn’t be bothered to construct a weather barrier and the field was now a quagmire. The horses could not run; surely they would break legs or otherwise injure themselves.

Though perhaps that would be a different sort of entertainment? Philip shook his head. Too expensive to continually train new horses and untenable in the long run.

Instead, he turned his focus to the newest development in his quest to obtain the [Saint]. His sources told him she had visited the Adventurer’s Guild just this afternoon. Not only that, but she had joined. This was good. Though it would be a costly copper, he could grease palms and lubricate rigid standards to monitor her movements. It would be very expensive indeed, but if push came to shove, he might be able to buy the guildmaster’s cooperation when it finally came time to…integrate the [Saint] into the Royal Guard. The man was an inflexible stick in the mud, but, well, Philip was king.

He doubted the [Saint] was well connected enough yet to put up any real resistance. He would, of course, make a generous offer at first to recruit her to his side. It was what [Saints] were supposed to do, was it not? Selflessly sacrifice themselves for the greater good? Or such bollocks. A waste, if you asked him, to throw away such talent and potential against the likes of a Demon Lord. But once he had her in his grasp, even such a low-probability outcome as that would be manageable. The demons were not blessed with potent healing, and having the greatest healer of all time under his control would turn the tide if any war. Preferably, it would stop a war before it started. Fighting was distasteful.

As such, Philip chose to first employ the soft arts. News that the [Saint] was present and active in the modern age was spreading like wildfire, and he allowed those rumors to blaze. A whisper here, a subtle nod there…he spread his feelers throughout the nobility. He knew that none of his underlings would want to miss the opportunity to woo an ancient hero, and surely, eventually, one would succeed. Or they’d go too far. In either case, once one of his nobles had the woman locked down, all he’d have to do would be to take her from them. By force, if need be, but he’d try trading favors first. He knew many nobles had their own designs and schemes, some of which were tolerable, if inconvenient. All he’d been waiting for was the proper leverage to excuse them.

Just this afternoon, in fact, he’d received word from Marquis Thorpe’s estate that he had encountered the [Saint] coincidentally as he was visiting Count Barnes on account of arranging a marriage to his youngest. The boy was only 12 and wasn’t set to inherit title or land, but if what Philip heard was true, he stood to gain a powerful [Mage] out of the bargain. The king snorted. Perhaps she could dry his polo fields.

King Philip’s musings were cut short by a commotion outside his doors. He glanced up from where he was seated behind his desk and stared with disbelief at the double doors. Who was foolish enough to engage the Royal Guards? They were rank 7, the lot of them. Many of them were rank 8, and a few were even 9. Who was suicidal? Perhaps he’d wander into the hall to find out.

But the muffled voices of the guards did not sound in control, and after only a brief pause, Philip was blasted back by a powerful wave of magic. He clutched the arm of his chair with one hand as his other instinctively rose to his chest, his eyes widened with shock. The doors had been instantly encased in ice, flash-frozen by an attack on the other side. Something struck the doors, shattering the inner lock as they exploded inward. No traces of the guards could be seen.

And yet the intruder was not some hulking [Barbarian] powerful enough to destroy those doors, but a small woman. Philip shot to his feet, enraged.

“White Witch,” he ground out. “I could have your head for treason.”

“As if you have authority over me,” the woman spat. She sauntered up to his desk and took a seat before him without a care in the world, as if she didn’t just barge in without an appointment. “It seems our little chat last time was insufficient. I hear you’ve left the ambassador stranded in the demon lands. Why?”

Philip waved an impatient hand.

“Details, woman,” he sighed as he sat down. “I did not leave him stranded; I sent a carriage. It will arrive eventually. And besides, by the time it does, it might not matter anyway.”

“What do you mean,” she asked sharply. Philip smirked. He did so love to see the old crone rattled.

“As if you don’t already know,” he drawled, “But if you must insist, I’ll tell you. We’ve located the [Saint]. She’s entered the city. All garrisons have been informed that if their patrols come across a party calling themselves [Sunrise] or meet the description of four humans and a high elf, they are to be detained. Nothing forceful, I assure you, but she will be questioned on her loyalty and will eventually see reason. Especially if she cares about the well-being of her, ah, former team.”

“How brain-dead can you be?” The White Witch threw her hands in the air. “Did I not make myself abundantly clear the last time we spoke on this issue? The [Saint] is off limits! To you, to anybody; even to me! Please tell me you haven’t done something truly idiotic like actually following through with that plan.”

“Idiotic is rich coming from a woman who spouts fairytales long after she’s grown too old for them. But alas, we have not yet recovered the [Saint]. It should, however, only be a matter of ti-”

Grrrrrraaaaaaaaughhhhh!!!!!!

A piercing, ear-shattering roar shook the entire castle and threatened to deafen him. Philip’s hands instantly clapped over his ears as he cried out in pain, but the sound was lost beneath the ongoing roar. It lasted several seconds, and when he pulled his hands back, there was a faint trickle of blood and his whole body shook. He stared up in shock at the woman across from him, surprised to see she wasn’t suffering from the same fate.

Grrrrrraaaaaaaaughhhhh!!!!!!

The roar cried out again. This time, his hands were ready and he braced for it, for all the good it did him. His head felt like it was on fire, like it was actively being split in two. But after the second roar, there was not a third. The office fell into silence, even as screams rose from the courtyards below. Philip glanced at his window, shocked to find the dim grey sky had turned a deep, blood red. He glanced at his status to see if the roar had left any side effects, and he blanched at what he saw. A single debuff sat in his character sheet, un-dispellable without a duration.

[The Destroyer Approaches]

Level: ????

Rank: X

Time Remaining: —:—

Cower in fear, mortal.

Philip found he couldn’t move. Well, he could breathe, he could twist his head and shake his limbs, but he seemed rooted to his seat.

“What have you done?” The White Witch whispered. Her eyes widened and she looked afraid, something Philip had never imagined from his grandmother before.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” She screamed at the top of her lungs.

“I…,” was all Philip could stammer. What was happening? What was that noise? It couldn’t be real. Surely it couldn’t. It had to be his imagination, yes?

“You fool,” the White Witch seethed. “You absolute fool. You may have killed us all. Where are you holding them?! Where were they to be taken?”

“To…to the northern garrison…,” he stammered. The White Witch didn’t wait to hear another syllable. She turned on the spot and started marching toward the doors.

“Wait!” Philip called. “Where are you going?”

“There might be time,” she spat over her shoulder. “I’m going to try and fix your mess. If it doesn’t kill me, we will be having words about your role within my kingdom.”