Misadventures Incorporated

Chapter 391 - The Frozen Flame IV

Lucius bit his lips and clenched his fists as he looked over the Cadrian border from atop his sacred beast. Together, the bee-ogre and the tiger stood upon a wooded hill, their eyes remaining cautious as they examined the path that connected the motherland to Kryddar. It had been quite some time since he last returned; to his surprise and chagrin, he found himself shaking at the prospect of crossing the border.

“Awrrroo?” asked the fanged mount beneath him.

“No. It’s nothing,” he said, quietly. “I was just trying to think of a way around the patrols.”

Even setting the whole giant tiger problem aside, Lucius felt like it was practically impossible. As a former operative himself, he knew that high command was not to be taken lightly. One did not simply walk into Cadria without being detected by some group or other.

For the average merchant or traveler, it was hardly anything worth noting, a simple fact of life that left them better off than not. After all, the active patrols and spymasters would sniff out any local ne'er-do-wells and task the appropriate groups with their elimination. The system worked well, except for when it didn’t. The few that managed to weather the storm came out more powerful than most local soldiers. Still, as long as they didn’t stir up too much trouble, the higher levels of government generally left them to their own devices.

In the eyes of a foreigner, such was surely an act of tomfoolery, guaranteed to endanger the locals. But while there was certainly the odd voice of protest, much of the populace was happy to accept the outcome. After all, the government launched at least one assault on every group that emerged. If the outlaws managed to survive, then it could only mean that they had earned enough strength to be worth respecting.

Even in cases where grudges remained, it was typically the locals themselves who did away with the outlaws. Driven by their thirst for vengeance, the children would grow big and strong, powerful enough to claim the heads of those who had wronged their parents. Or perhaps, the criminals themselves would reform and join the military’s ranks after doing away with whoever or whatever had driven their illicit activities in the first place. Both stories were common amongst those who held the military’s highest ranks. Strife drew strength. Such was Cadria, the land where even petty outlaws could reach the eight-fifty wall.

It was precisely because duels were so famously respected that farmhands became generals and orphans became kings. But so too was it the reason so many foreigners considered them barbarians. That much, Lucius had learned on his journey.

In other lands, the people were warmer but weaker. It wasn’t necessarily that they had less potential, but that society never encouraged or expected them to grow strong. There were entire nations weaker than villages out in the Cadrian boonies. And yet, they got by just fine, without any of the violent fervour inspired by the goddess of war.

She left nothing but death in her wake. Perhaps, he thought, her influence was unnecessary, even for those who lived in the dangerous northern lands. The western alliance and Kryddar served as two remarkable, undeniable examples of Vellaless success. But to think such thoughts was blasphemy of the highest order, and it was one of the main reasons he dreaded the thought of detection.

It was not just because his mind was clear of Vella’s fog. His former life as an intelligence officer was just as inconvenient. To resurface after such a long absence would only raise questions among those who held his reins. They would suspect him to be a fake, a deserter, or perhaps an enemy agent—all choices that led straight to dead ends.

Even under the guise of his new identity, even as the hunt god’s champion, they would no doubt attempt a capture.

He was confident that, with the divine beast’s help, he could fight off any lesser foes that came his way. They had grown strong enough to defeat even an aspect in battle. Just like any pair of Cadrian outlaws, they could drive away anyone who dared to approach. But with only the two of them, it would be difficult to rest and recover.

They needed more allies. And it was fortunate then that Lucius knew exactly where to get them.

His god had already guided him toward the southwestern colosseum.

The champion who reigned as its master had been undefeated for a decade. From the first moment she had become its ruler, she had offered her hand to whomever it was that managed to defeat her. Lucius had no particular interest in the cervitaur’s body, but she was precisely the sort of fighter he needed on his side.

All he had to do was find a way to sneak past the border.

___

Claire brushed her bloodied bangs with a half-broken arm as the door finally opened beneath her. The two skeletons that comprised the second wave lay unresponsive at her feet. Though her battle with the first spanned no more than a minute, the second and third ate up a full hour.

It wasn’t like they were any more skilled. But rather, the combination of their technical prowess and their perfect teamwork made it almost impossible to secure their heads. It didn’t help that both enemies entered the strange, monochrome world together and that they both had to be slain at once for either to be slain at all. Their elimination may as well have served as a test of patience, and one that she was ready to fail.

Still, despite her frustration, the halfbreed came out on top. And her reward? A look into the bottom of the sea.

That was what awaited beyond the giant door—a biome completely unlike that of its fiery predecessor. There was no real precedent. Its one justification was the maker’s identity; it was only because he was the god of the darkest depths, because he reigned as the master of the abyss, that Ira had partially submerged his dungeon.

Still, though he had clearly violated the volcanic concept with which he began his design, it was not as if the god was without restraint. Looking down into the pool, she found not a blackened void, but a colourful, shallow sea. It was far brighter than the area around Vel’khan, packed to the brim with iridescent fish of all different shapes and sizes. Some glowed with such intensity that they could easily be mistaken for lanterns even without any darkness to highlight their presence.

Sylvia was so excited by the sight that she started to squeal from within her silenced bubble. The noise cancellation was perfect; her rambling went entirely unheard, but Claire understood her regardless. Gesturing for the fox to go on ahead, she followed her straight into the water.

The salty solution stung her open wounds, but she pressed ahead regardless. Sylvia was sure to eat everything worth killing lest someone reigned in her frenzy.

Ira’s watery world was far more peculiar than the one-corridor volcano that sat in the space above it. Just like a Kryddarian city, it was filled with light; every bit of water was as well illuminated as a shallow lagoon. And yet, its depth was obscene.

There was no end in sight. The bright waters extended in every direction. It was almost foreboding; she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease, like there was something wrong.

It took a few moments for Claire to finally discern the source of her malaise. Though there were bits of land scattered all over, though the sun shone from up above, there was no sky or floor.

The whole world was nothing but ocean, ocean, and ocean as far as the eye could see. There was plenty of land to break up the sights, but they were without any continents to anchor them in place. Like ships, they drifted, moving with the invisible waves through the endless. It was a bit of a mystery as to how they kept their sand. The beaches lost exactly none of their material as they shuffled along. Even kicked up by the nonresident fox, the sediment settled right back where it belonged.

Each rock was a centre of life. It was not just fish that governed the domains, but corals, crabs, squids, and seaweeds. The variety was far greater than what one would typically expect from a dungeon. Most of the creatures were still of a monstrous nature. That much was clear from the way that they resisted the fox’s capture. Many of the fish shot through the water and tried to bite her, while the shrimp and crabs launched magical attacks from their pincers.

Their attacks were surprisingly high output. At the very least, she felt like they had to be evaded, even though the fox didn't bother. Sylvia let her bubble absorb all of the blows as she plodded on and ate all of her unfortunate assailants.

Claire stretched her wings and prepared to join the fray when her pet suddenly cast an uncharacteristic spell and deleted both of the nearest floating rocks with a bright, arcane blast. It was followed soon after with another magical attack - a humming tune that suddenly caused everything she could see to instantly drop dead.

“Did something happen?” asked Claire, as she floated over. 

“Mmmmnnn, not really? ”said the fox. “I just kinda decided that I was full, so I got rid of the rest.”

“You didn't need to kill all of them.”

“I know, but I figured we were probably due for a bit of a break.” Sylvia paddled her way over to a rock and put on her elven shell. She shifted some of the freshly bleached coral aside with her newly formed hand and positioned her back against a large shell. Her bubble expanded to fill the space, providing a perfect safe haven in which the pair could relax.

Looking up at her pet lyrkress, she patted the open spot by her side and flashed a bit of a smile. It wasn’t as loud, bright, or silly as her usual expression. It was far more muted, perhaps even shy or reserved.

“Did you eat something weird?” Claire asked the question as she entered the bubble and took up the seat right next to the fox girl.

“H-huh? Uhmmm… no, why?”

“Because you’re acting weird.”

“N-no I’m not!” The words came out with a bit of a squeal. But no matter how obvious it was, the fox refused to abandon her act. She sat up as straight as she could and mechanically moved her tail from left to right whilst forcing a straight expression.

“Out with it.”

“I-It’s nothing, I swear!”

Claire continued to stare as sweat dripped down the foxgirl’s brow. She couldn’t have been more obvious. She dodged the lyrkress’ eyes so she wouldn’t be easily seen through and held her breath for as long as she could. It wasn’t like she wasn’t self aware. She knew precisely how ridiculous she looked, but she insisted on feigning ignorance, even as Claire shuttered her nose with a pinch.

She tried to push the lyrkress away, but raising her arms, she only found the other girl’s fingers buried in her sides. The tickles that followed completely shattered any attempt at silence; a furious fit of laughter broke through the dam as she was sent straight to high heaven.

“Stop it already!” she said between giggles. “I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything!”

“Good,” said Claire, as she continued to tickle the fox.

“Wah! What the heck!” A giggle. “You’re supposed to stop!” Another giggle. “I said I’d talk!”

“I know,” said Claire.

“Then why aren’t you stopping!?”

“Don’t feel like it.”

“I can’t breathe!”

“I know.”

“Claaaaire!”

Despite her protests, the assault lasted for another five minutes. Only then was Claire satisfied enough to retract her arms and return to a seated position.

“So?”

“Do I really have to say it?”

“Do you want me to tickle you again?”

“I mean, kind of,” said the fox, quietly.

“Then I won’t.”

“What the heck!? You’re so unreasonable!”

“I’m perfectly reasonable.”

“Only by Cadrian standards!”

“Good enough.”

Sylvia sighed. “I swear, there’s no winning with you.”

“Of course not. Now stop stalling and say it.”

“Okay, okay! Fine!” Sylvia fiddled with her tail and lowered her gaze, a blush creeping its way across her face all the while. “S-so uhmm, you remember how we fought Pollux Two and stuff, right?”

“I do.”

“Right so, you weren’t actually awake yet, and I was kinda worried about Ciel and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I kinda ended up using my ultimate…” Her voice trailed off.

“And?”

“O-oh, come on! You’re just being mean now!” The fox puffed up her cheeks. “I know you know what I want to say!”

“Just say it.”

“I’m trying!” Her face got redder and redder with every word. “S-so I kinda need more charges. W-which uhmmm, means we kinda need to kiss again.” Her eyes darted constantly between her tail and the lyrkress. She was trying not to make a show of it, but she carefully watched her expression, noting every single one of its ever-unchanging details.

“Are they really necessary?” asked Claire, with a tilt of the head.

“N-no! I-I mean yes!”

“Make up your mind.”

“I-I don’t think I’d need any normally, but this dungeon seems kinda dangerous, so I-I need at least one just in case something goes wrong. And uhmmm, it’d actually be kinda nice if I could have a few more stocked, j-just in case. T-technically I need like seventy seven to sing the whole song, and it’d probably be better to have more than that, but I know that’s way too many so I’m only gonna ask for a few.”

She was completely out of breath by the end of the sentence and a little teary-eyed as well. Claire paused for a few seconds to stare at the frantic fox before breathing a sigh and raising a hand to the fox girl’s lips.

“Uhmmm… what’s this for?”

“For you to kiss.”

The matter-of-face response only earned a tilt of the head.

“Alfred said you had to kiss me. He didn’t say where.”

“O-oh. Y-yeah, good point,” said Sylvia. Forcing a bit of a laugh, she took the talon between her fingers and hesitantly raised it to her face. Like the rest of Claire’s body, the claw was water repellant, so it wasn’t wet, but neither was it entirely devoid of moisture. There were still a few stray droplets scattered all over. “T-that’s a good point. I can’t believe I never noticed.”

Slowly, hesitantly, she swallowed and pressed her lips against the back of the caldiress’ hand. She stayed like that for a few seconds before pulling away with her face as bright as a tomato.

“Did it work?” asked Claire.

“H-huh? O-oh uhmmm…” Sylvia paused for a second. “I don’t think so.”

“Of course not,” said Claire, with a grumble. “I knew he’d think of that.”

“Y-yeah,” said Sylvia. “A-Al’s kind of a total degenerate, b-but he’s still pretty smart.”

Her heart beat like a drum. The only thing she processed was its ever-growing speed and volume as the other girl’s face drew closer. And just like the last time, she found herself stunned as the ridiculously soft touch fried her brain. She wasn’t really sure if the reaction was conscious, but she found her own lips responding in kind, moving to return the display of affection. She lost track of how many times it happened. The accompanying details left her brain as soon as they entered it. Nothing made sense. She felt like she would soon pass out.

It didn’t help that she was running out of air. Claire seemed to realise as well, because she pulled away for just a second, granting the fox the briefest window of lucidity before ripping it out from under her again.

“C-Claire, I—”

“Don’t say it.”

Another stifling, gentle touch.

“The less you say, the less that has to change.” Her spine shivered as a set of sharp teeth pinched her bottom lip. “We can still go back to normal. We can pretend that none of this ever happened, that I never noticed. But only if you continue to play the fool.”

Sylvia wasn’t sure what she meant. She didn’t even know what she had tried to say. She tried to piece it back together. But again, her mind was blanked by a blinding assault.

In the face of the overwhelming sensation, all she could do was nod.