Misadventures Incorporated

Chapter 364 - The Stifled Sword VIII

Chloe kept a nervous eye on her surroundings as the party stormed the halls. There was minimal resistance. The few guards standing around the manor pushed back against the intruders, but they stood no chance with the strongest at only level four hundred. The brigade’s combined might swept them off their feet. Few of the felled guards were slain. The party advanced with a focus on speed and efficiency, eliminating only those who insisted on getting in their way. They didn't have time. They needed to seize the control room before they were overrun.

Even if many of the centaurs were of a much lower level, killing them outright remained a burdensome task. The difficulty largely stemmed from their durability. They were likely to regenerate and form up ranks again if not slain in a single blow.

It didn’t help that they only half knew their destination. They had long determined that it was beneath them, residing within the giant crystal that served as the mothership’s base, but that alone did not reveal the way forward. The Cadrians loved their convoluted pathways. The entrance to the military centre was no doubt past a number of random, hidden corridors, and none of them had the skills to snoop out its precise position. One could easily imagine then that violence was next on the list, but it was to no avail. There was a magical barrier beneath the prison floor. They might have been able to break through had they any power-focused individuals, but the group had no such members. The queen was the closest contender, and she couldn’t even get it to crack.

They would have had no choice but to scour the castle for its hidden pathways any earlier in the day, but Ciel had stalled for long enough. Griselda’s rays cut through the clouds, gently illuminating the path her priestess was meant to take.

It was hardly a perfect solution.

The guiding light only shone where the windows were present, and it was often obscured by the clouds above. Still, they followed it, with Chloe taking up the rear to prevent any disabled centaurs from jumping back into pursuit.

She threw a needle at one such antelope, nailing her between the eyes as soon as she kicked off the ground. It shot straight through her head, but the blade was too small to end her. Not even four centimetres in length, its apparent purpose was for the delicate repairs that she often performed on her mistress’ clothing. Its lacklustre performance, however, was hardly a problem. Chloe backed it with another three identical projectiles, each drilling through the cervitaur’s brain and emptying her mind.

Four rounds of ammunition seemed like a substantial cost to waste on a fighter barely level two-sixty, but it was no skin off the demonic maid’s back. Her needles were perfectly ordinary, the run-of-the-mill kind that one could find at any tailor’s shop. And she had another thousand stashed away upon her person.

She continued to follow the group as she racked up kills. They turned down a series of halls, climbed two flights of stairs, and went up a ladder hidden behind a private shower before finally arriving in a brightly lit room.

Ace boarded up the door as soon as they were in. The bookcase would hardly serve as a deterrent against the warriors in pursuit, but it was extra padding for the already sturdy door. For once, the castle’s construction worked in their favour; it was robust enough that they could easily defend their position.

The rest of the group gathered around the moonlit patch in the meantime, with Matthias using his scythes to cut through the carpet and reveal the moose-sized trapdoor beneath it. It was clearly locked; there was a keyhole by the handle and it refused to budge when they pulled it. Matthias tried to stick his blades into the gaps between the door and its frame, but to no avail. They were pretty much airtight.

“Let me handle this.” Chloe pushed him aside, bent one of her needles, and quickly got to work. Being a maid and not a rogue, she wasn’t the most proficient at circumventing locks, but she was aware of the necessary techniques.

She prodded at the pins, lifting them one by one as she finessed the makeshift pick into each hole in turn. Eventually, it clicked open, almost surprisingly easily for a security system as important as it was. She didn’t think too much of it until she opened the door and narrowly dodged the tip of a spear. There was a full hallway of guards gathered by the entrance, weapons extended, ready and waiting.

Chloe was taken aback; she hadn’t the slightest clue as to how she was meant to approach it, but her party members were not quite as green. Ace whipped the greatsword off his back and hurled it into the pit. He jumped in right after, taking advantage of the opening to establish a position within the crowd. In such close quarters, his swords fared better than their spears. Swinging the larger one in one hand and the smaller one in the other, he pushed back the defenders and invaded the subterranean hall.

The maid tried to finish them off as she followed him down, but they regenerated too quickly, even with her mistress actively casting away. The problem was the way the soldiers ebbed and flowed. The front line retreated each time it was damaged, with men shepherding their allies to safety so they could take their places.

That was when the door behind them finally burst open to reveal a group of soldiers with a battering ram in hand. They immediately dropped the massive metal spear and moved to encircle the intruders. The only gap in their formation led out the way they came. It was clearly bait; they were trying to funnel the prisoners in the direction opposite their destination, either that or they hoped to bait them into an elaborate trap.

In either case, Chloe’s party was having none of it. Arciel joined Ace in the crowd. She darted from shadow to shadow before appearing behind the mob and dropping to her knees. Her hands were clasped together, wrapped around the lunar brooch that typically adorned her hat.

A ray of moonlight swept through the darkness. It shot through the nearest window, bounced into the underground corridor, and homed on the beacon between the priestess’ fingers. The allies it bathed were unaffected, even as their bodies were illuminated by its pale light. The enemies, however, were practically consigned to death. The light ate through their skin and bones. In terms of pure firepower, it was only slightly more powerful than the shadows Ciel slung. The main difference came in the rate of damage. Each pillar and spike her spells produced could only launch a single attack, but the moonlight was ever persistent, constantly burning away the warriors’ flesh before they could be healed.

Matthias soon joined Ace in the hole and got to carving a path through the half-mangled army. Chloe jumped into the pit as well, making sure to close the door and lock it behind her before following in their footsteps. She could hear the warriors outside pounding on the door, but they were much too late.

The control center did not share the rest of the building’s aesthetic. The halls were still just as wide, but they were made of metal instead of stone. All of the carpets and wallpapers were gone, revealing a set of almost monotone surfaces lit by the faint magical lights that ran along the walls as would a thin trim. The paint on the floor was the only thing that broke up the boring scene, and even it was not for decoration. Rather, they had arrows pointing down different paths and bits of text supposedly meant to describe them.

“Well? Where to?” asked Ace.

“I have not the faintest clue, but I would advise against splitting up and exploring the paths in tandem,” said Arciel.

The words on the signs themselves were scrambled and unreadable, presented in a code that the individuals on board had long already committed to memory, and the party had lost the moon’s guidance. There were no windows in the underground sector.

“I say left then,” said Ace.

“For what reason?” asked the squid.

“Dunno. Just a hunch,” he said.

He put both his weapons away and started down the hall, glancing briefly into each of the rooms he passed. There was an engineering bay, an armoury, and a number of private quarters, among several other facilities the party found nondescript. Continuing forward, they discovered a kitchen accompanied by a set of smaller laboratories, all of which had artificers running around half-panicked within. They started barricading the doors when they spotted the intruders, though their efforts were largely wasted.

The brigade continued to put speed over murder; they would eventually have to take control of the interior spaces, but that could easily wait until Lord Porcius was dead.

Even running down the hall, it took the group a few minutes to reach the end; the underground structure spanned the entire mothership’s length, and the physical fighters reduced their speed to match the mage’s pace. The back wall funnelled them straight into another hall, roughly twice as long with similar facilities spread throughout. The only entryway that stood out was the double door at its far end, which was placed alongside a turn that led down another hall.

Peeking through the window revealed a large room with a map of the surrounding area projected in the middle. A familiar man was standing on the opposite side of the magical device, leaning on the counter with a hand propping up his face. His eyes turned up as soon as he felt their gazes, meeting them head-on before breathing a tired sigh. He raised his hand and lazily beckoned them in, the apparent boredom never leaving him all the while.

Ace went first. He pushed the door open while carefully observing his surroundings, entering only after he was convinced that it wasn’t a trap. There were two groups of soldiers present in the space, one manning the various magical devices and the other standing directly behind the marquis. The latter group was fully armoured. Including Porcius, there were six of them, two cottontails, a throae, two centaurs, and an elf, all fighters from the unit that had captured them earlier in the day.

Their presence meant only one thing: their enemies had predicted their strategy.

They had been outmaneuvered.

Chloe bit her lip as she grabbed a dagger through the fabric of her skirt. She didn’t know what to do. The six champions were more than powerful enough to trample them underfoot, but they would have more luck confronting them than they would the enemies waiting outside. Looking at Arciel didn’t help. The queen was equally as perplexed; her mind was racing, likely seeking the reason that Griselda had led them straight into the marquis’ trap.

“Now, I’m sure you might be wondering why we’re all here.” Pollux yawned as he approached the uninvited guests. “The answer’s actually pretty simple. I figured out what you were planning, so I pretty much begged for help. A bit of grovelling goes a long way, especially if it’s deserved.” He chuckled at the self-derision. “And before you ask, yes, it was obvious. There wasn’t really much else you could have done. The clam was probably the most dangerous among you, and he’s already done us the favour of offing himself.”

“Why did you not simply intercept us then?” asked Arciel. “What purpose was there in the sacrifice of your soldiers?”

“That was just the usual fare. Do you not do that in Vel’khan?” he continued after noting the confusion on the queen’s face. “No wonder you idiots are so weak. We were giving them a chance to get themselves some achievements. Surviving stuff that’s beyond you is pretty much the secret sauce when it comes to mutating your classes. Only thing better is squeezing out a win.”

The queen frowned. “We are not so cruel to our men.”

“And that’s why they’re so goddamn pathetic. You guys are so weak that I honestly feel kinda bad for bullying you. Look, tell you what, I’ll give you guys a handicap. We won’t come at you all at once. Hell, we’ll let you pick who you want to duel. Let’s call it a trial run for the real thing next year.”

Arciel frowned. “Very well. Leave us a moment to discuss our choices.”

“Sure, sure. Take your time. It’s not like we’re in any rush.” Porcius twisted his lips into a nasty smile as he returned to his previous position.

The queen glanced through the enemy lines before turning back to the group with a frown. She was out of ideas, and a quick glance around the party confirmed that she was not alone. The whole group was tense. Their morale was shot. No one had stopped for even a moment to consider the possibility that their enemies would be lying in wait.

“Well? Get on with it,” said Pollux. “I know I said we’d wait, but you can’t just sit around and stare each other down.”

“Do not rush us,” said Arciel. “You are only further delaying our discussions.”

“You weren’t even saying anything.”

“It was my intention to set the tone with a pause. Now you have gone ahead and ruined it,” said the squid.

“I hope you realize that my patience is literally the only goddamn thing that’s keeping us from jumping you right now, and that you’re wearing it awfully fucking thin.”

“How unfortunate. I do believe a poor temper is a common symptom of a traumatic upbringing. Have you considered consulting a medical professional?”

Porcius’ soldiers broke into a laugh, leaving the man in question only all the more annoyed. But while he clicked his tongue and tapped a finger against the table, he refrained from ordering an attack.

Chloe, on the other hand, only twisted her lips into a wry smile. She was starting to feel that her mistress might have taken a few too many pages out of a certain weirdo’s book—not that she commented aloud. She was too busy; her eyes were stuck tracing the arc that the queen’s chest had taken through the air. It was a sight that filled her with inspiration. Gulping, Chloe took a deep breath and stepped out in front of the rest of the group.

Ciel gave her a curious look, which she met with a forced smile. She didn’t ask for tacit permission—a contingency, in case the plan failed to come to fruition.

She was a maid. Her one duty was to serve her mistress and see to it that her desires were done, even if they were left unsaid. In the current circumstance, that desire was to find a way for the party to escape unscathed. And technically speaking, Chloe was not one of its members. She didn’t measure up to any of the other combatants. Despite possessing a means to turn the tides.

“Lord Porcius,” she said, as she stepped forward.

“What?”

“Won’t you reconsider, sir?” She slowly lifted her skirt as she advanced, shamelessly exposing the bare skin of her ankles, shin, and knees. Her tail traced its way up the insides of her legs, inching forward at a tantalizing pace. It vanished when it reached her thighs, emerging again as a bulge beneath her blouse as it worked its way up her stomach and between the mounds on her chest. And then, it popped out of her collar, wrapping its way around her tongue before leading his gaze straight into her eyes. She knew that her magical charms would be ineffective, but the effect that bolstered her seduction worked away at full force. It wasn’t a spell’s doing, just a modifier enforced by the system’s declarations. “I’m sure we’re of much more use alive.”

Her tail pulled down on her collar, revealing the valley that lay beneath it.

She could tell that it was working. He was staring. They were all staring. Male or otherwise, the Cadrians’ minds were jumbled by the exotic display. She nervously began undoing her buttons, knowing that she could keep their attention. But she didn’t maintain it for long.

The room turned red; one of the nearby devices started flashing a bright, crimson light.

“W-we’ve got trouble!” shouted its operator. “We’ve detected a surge of powerful magic directly beneath the ship. Requesting barriers!”

“Barriers enabled!” shouted another operator.

“Fucking hell,” said Porcius. He groaned aloud, but his expression betrayed his thoughts; his face was marked with an undeniable grin. “What’re the numbers, sergeant.”

“O-one second, Sir,” gulped the operator. “The caster is aspect level. The magical signature aligns with the caster we encountered earlier this morning. The spell’s output is still rising, and we don’t have a final measurement, sir, but it’s looking like it’ll be ultimate class!”

“How much mana are we talking?” asked the marquis.

There was no response, only a deluge of incoherent sound.

“Goddammit, soldier, talk! We don’t pay you to stutter.” His feigned exasperation lasted until he reached the terminal. The blood drained from his face as soon as he saw the numbers reported. “Change of plans,” he said. “Execute the captives immediately. We’ve reached the end of the line.”