Misadventures Incorporated

Chapter 357 - The Stifled Sword

Ace raised a hand to his throbbing head as his consciousness slowly returned. He was rather surprised to find his braincase entirely intact. His torn scales had healed, and his once-dented face had already returned to form. None of the gashes in his clothes revealed visible wounds, his goddess’ restrictions had returned, and a glance at his HP confirmed it fully restored. An hour and a half had to have passed at least.

He didn’t know where he was exactly. His surroundings were so brightly lit that it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. When they finally did, he found himself in an environment too bizarre for him to think it a Cadrian gaol. Jailtime was a foregone conclusion for any captured soldier, but the surrounding aesthetic threw him for a loop and a half. For one, it wasn’t nearly dingy enough to serve as a prison. The room shone with a brilliant white lustre, and it was filled with all sorts of expensive amenities. The central space was lined with shelves of books, mainly novels, poems, and academic articles for the prisoners to pass the time. They were accompanied by luxurious, expensive sofas and even enchanted reading glasses for those who might have required them.

Sitting on one end of the space was a long hall filled with bedrooms and restrooms, separated by both size and sex. The other was decorated with a fully stocked kitchen. It came with several sets of magical burners so several dishes could be made in tandem, as well as a fully stocked cast of multinational cookware.

Most egregious of all was the complete and utter lack of bindings. Exactly none of the prisoners were cuffed or collared, even though they had quite literally just come out of a bloody encounter. Not even their weapons had been taken away. The lizardman’s blades sat on a rack by the exit. The only thing that stopped him from grabbing them was the glass barrier within which the shelf was contained. It was the flimsiest little thing he had ever seen, thin enough to be broken by a half-hearted strike.

Everyone else had already settled right in. Arciel was sitting on one of the fluffy chairs and sipping a cup of tea, while Chloe was humming to herself as she prepared a series of fruits. Matthias was staring at a magical display that showed the world outside and Jules was pouring over an ancient scroll whilst muttering something about the theory of magic.

He almost couldn’t believe that they were imprisoned. The only notable indication was the door that led outside. It was heavily reinforced. The knob was inaccessible, but there was a thin slit through which one could see the guards stationed just beyond.

“Must be nice to be royalty,” he muttered. “Even the goddamn slammers are basically luxury resorts.”

“I believe this to be the norm, rather than the exception,” said Arciel.

“Ain’t no way, Miss. Nobody’s going this far for a handful of nameless POWs. This here’s gotta be a VIP room.”

“Perhaps it would have been clearer had you regained your consciousness earlier. We passed several similarly configured rooms along the way.”

“Right…” He cocked a brow. “Where are the others? They split us off into two rooms or something?”

“We’re the only ones they captured,” said Chloe. She walked over from the kitchen and set a plateful of snacks in front of her mistress.

“Claire evaded capture on her own,” said Arciel, before turning her eyes to the clam. “Krail and Lana escaped through our combined efforts.”

“And Sophia?”

Chloe bit her lip and shook her head. “She wasn’t staying down.”

“Well,” Ace briefly tensed his tail and clenched his toes, “them’s the breaks, I guess. Didn’t know her for long, but she wasn’t all bad.”

“She shan’t be forgotten,” said Arciel.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“So?” The lizardman glanced at the door’s open bean slot before lowering his voice. “What’s the plan?”

“Frankly, I have not the faintest clue as to the best course of action,” said Arciel. “It has only been a few hours since our capture, and while I have certainly considered an attempt at escape, I cannot see how it might be feasible.”

“They trounced us pretty badly the first time,” agreed Chloe.

“Shut the fuck up,” snapped Jules. “You literally didn’t even fucking fight!”

“How was I supposed to!?” cried the maid. “They sent eight of them after me, eight! I’m barely level four hundred!”

“You could have fucking tried!” shouted the clam.

“I’m a maid, I’m not supposed to be fighting in the first place!”

“Coward.” The clam clicked his tongue.

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who lost two against one.”

“Did you see what they were wearing?” snarled Jules. “I’m a fucking mage. You want to try getting past three fucking layers of magic resistance? They didn’t even try to defend themselves against the physical attacks. Their armour was so frail that you could’ve broken it in a single goddamn it, and you chose to fucking surrender.”

“You’re making it sound like I could land a hit! How am I supposed to land a hit against eight people twice my level!?”

“Alright, you two. That’s enough,” said Matthias. “Calm down. We aren’t going to get anything done by fighting amongst ourselves.”

“Why the fuck are you acting like hot shit when you were just as useless as she was?” Jules scoffed. “That dumbfuck wrench monkey you were fighting basically pulled down his pants and shoved his ass in your face, and you still couldn’t do shit.”

“I understand your frustration, Jules, but that is enough,” said Arciel.

Audibly clicking his tongue, the clam grabbed a few documents off the shelves and lumbered his way to one of the private rooms. He slammed the door in one last act of frustration, leaving the others with nothing but an awkward silence.

For a little while, that was how they remained. Chloe angrily picked at the fruits, eating large bites at a time while everyone else simply sat around. It wasn’t like they had nothing to say. Ace very much wanted to jump back into the previous discussion, but he found it impossible to broach the subject.

It didn’t help that he still had a lot to think about. His own failure was still fresh on his mind. The Cadrians were much tougher than he had expected. Even having released his seal right off the bat, he hadn’t stood much of a chance.

He didn’t know exactly how powerful their champions were, but they would need a miracle to defeat even the soldiers by whom they had just been captured. He was finally starting to understand his master’s concern. The career soldiers far outclassed Roroavain’s, his nation’s, most brilliant. They could never stand against the eastern titan should the alliance crumble.

Whether that was genuinely a problem was for the higher-ups to decide. He would need to visit the nation to be sure, but the lizardman doubted that Cadria’s thirst for conquest was primarily resource-driven. All the evidence seemed to imply an abundance of wealth. Either that, or they were simply unable to prioritize their spending.

The state of their citizenry and the decency of their legal system were the last two points he required to complete his report. If the people were well off, and if the courts were decent, he would have no choice but to suggest to his superiors that they pull their funding from the alliance’s pockets. In such a case, the obvious answer was to swear fealty in advance and await the Cadrians’ continental conquest, assuming their cultural norms were acceptable. Roroavain’s primary concern was with the rumours of barbarism—the seemingly widespread claim that Cadria was a nation of bloodthirsty murders and unreasonable tyrants.

Located on the continent’s opposite coast, nearly five thousand kilometers away, they had always found it difficult to differentiate fact from falsehood. The alliance was a filter. The military blockade they had established to keep the Cadrians at bay barred even traders and bards from crossing the borders. It was impossible to go from Roroavain to Cadria without taking a long, southerly detour that avoided the military lines. That was how Ace had ended up in Vel’khan in the first place, and how he had stumbled upon the opportunity to infiltrate a nation at war with that of the possible threat he was meant to probe. It wasn’t by any means the original plan. He was only meant to blend in to learn the local norms so that he could fake his place of origin. But the war was a golden opportunity, and he hadn’t been so foolish as to let it go untaken.

Sophia was the only one to have ever traced his origin. The Vel’khanese government clearly knew he wasn’t native, but even if they thought him somewhat suspicious, none of the others had ever caught him in the act of making a report. In a way, he was relieved that she had lost the ability to reveal the truth, even though he hadn’t minded her as a person.

Alas, his feelings were no longer relevant. Sophia was dead. He saw them end her first hand.

“Anyway, as I was saying earlier,” he muttered. “We’re gonna need to throw together a plan.”

“Indeed.” Arciel looked around the room. “If you, any of you, have any suggestions, I am prepared to hear them.”

“Would normally say that the simplest solution is usually the best, but I doubt an upfront approach would be much in the way of viable,” said Ace.

“Such tomfoolery would certainly see us immediately suppressed,” agreed Arciel.

“It might not be as bad as it seems,” said Matthias. “I tracked some of their fighters, and most of them have split up and gone off to different ships.”

“Doubt we can beat even one or two all that quickly if they’ve got it in their minds to stall,” said Ace. “We’d probably need to shift right into a full sprint.”

“We are incapable of besting their raw speed,” said Arciel. “Escape is unlikely, lest we find ourselves an inland sea.”

“There aren’t any nearby,” said Chloe. “Our best bet is waiting for Claire. I’m sure she’s got something in mind already.”

“Perhaps, but I would not count on her success. As the clone I summoned was defeated, it is highly unlikely that she will emerge victorious. She cannot match it in single combat.” Arciel tapped her fan against her lips. “In either case, I believe a preliminary survey of the ship is in order. It would be to our benefit to learn of our escape routes in advance”

“Can’t we just get away with whatever you said we could do earlier?” said Ace. “Back in the dungeon.”

Arciel shook her head. “It was not my ability that I listed.”

“Figured,” grunted the lizardman. “Guess that means we’ll just have to scout the place.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible. None of us are good at sneaking around,” said the maid.

“Oh, Chloe, must you always consider the least legitimate method?” Arciel breathed an exaggerated sigh as she walked up to the door and lightly rapped her knuckles against it, a smile on her face throughout. “Excuse me.”

The guards spoke to each other in muffled voices, their words unable to pass through the door intact. But while they were effectively silent, their intentions still got across when one sent the other off. He returned a few minutes later with a higher-ranking officer in tow. The man in question—a particularly muscular centaur with a cursed scar across his face—looked briefly at the expectant Arciel before chanting a few things under his breath and scrubbing his hand across the bean hole.

There was a long hiss; the pressurized cabin was soon left with the same, thin air as the world beyond it. 

“Yes?” asked the centaur.

“I wish for a tour of this craft,” said Arciel.

The man in question paused for a few seconds. “That can be arranged, but you must adhere to a number of conditions.”

“I bid you to list them.”

“The first is that every individual who wishes to tour the ship must be subjected to a set of physical and magical restraints,” he said. “You will only be allowed access to the common areas, and you must be escorted by a higher-level combatant at all times. This, of course, includes the use of restrooms and other essential facilities. If you find those conditions satisfactory, I can arrange for a tour shortly.”

“I do not mind,” said Arciel.

“Excellent. Before I leave, is there anything else that you will require? Perhaps additional bedding?” he said. “Unfortunately, much of the relevant data was lost with our previous lord, and we are uncertain of how to accommodate you.”

“We shall be fine on that front,” said Arciel.

“Then I will return at a later time.” The centaur bowed before casting another spell and restoring the room’s surface-level pressure.

“Rather easy, was it not?” The queen folded her legs and raised her fan to her face, somewhat amused, while everyone else in the room stared in confusion.

There was no such thing as an enemy foolish enough to provide a tour of their base. Or at least there shouldn’t have been. Either stupidity or supreme confidence was required for one to consider the request. It didn't matter that the confidential areas were sealed. To allow the prisoners to explore the ship was to allow them to plot an escape. Being a military officer, especially one tasked with the gaol, there was no way he was unaware. He had to have known and simply not cared.

Ace’s first thought was that they were incompetent, but he doubted it with everything he had seen so far. It was not that their enemies were looking down upon them or even overestimating themselves. They simply didn’t care.

The message was loud and clear. They were not a threat.