This thought flashed through my head right as the man accelerated into another blinding charge. I instinctively ducked into a roll before nearly passing out from pain. It turns out, dodge-rolling with a broken rib is a bad idea. Still, it saved my life as his sword buried itself in the brick of a building. He grunted, and I saw his muscles bulge slightly before retrieving the sword from the brick. The delay gave me time to collect my wits, and I set my guard once again. I knew I needed some kind of plan, but I was low on options. My mana had only recovered a small portion of its total. Enough for a couple spells, but I needed both time to cast, and the right choices.
With a sigh, I spent most of my newly-regenerated mana healing my broken rib. I had no choice. I needed full mobility if I was going to compete. I glanced at Izzy, but she and Gwen were still engaged with the incredibly durable female spirit who seemed as if she might be an even better swordswoman than Dee. My attention returned to my opponent just in time to almost be decapitated. A quick movement of my sword blocked his swing, but my wrist throbbed ominously as I jumped back. I knew that I had come close to breaking my wrist.
The sword spirit gave no quarter, continuing to press his attack, and it was all I could do to avoid injury. I ducked, and weaved, doing my best to deflect his blade without taking it’s full force. Before a minute had passed, I knew I was dead. I was running out of stamina, whereas item spirits didn’t need to breathe. It was only my calisthenics training with Izzy that had allowed me to fight this long. Thinking of Izzy provided me with a burst of inspiration. Dodging a blow, I risked a feint to the right. As he moved to counter, the last of my mana fueled a short burst of invisibility. The strain caused the disorientation of bottoming out my mana, but was worth it in the end as I managed to maneuver slightly around him, and bury my sword in his skull.
Despite the hardiness of the avatar body, this proved to be too much for him, and he dissolved back into his sword with no fanfare. I stepped over to the wall, and slumped against it, cradling my head in my hand as if it could ward off the tearing headache caused by my magical overextension. Seeing that she was the last one standing, Izzy’s foe surrendered, throwing down her sword, and kneeling to signify that she was done fighting. I tried to pay attention to what was happening, but the effects of my mana deprivation suddenly spiked, until I was driven to unconsciousness.
Chapter 15
“Wake up Rowan, this isn’t the time to be sleeping!” Dee hissed, slapping me awake.
“Wh… wha?” I mumbled, incoherent as my brain switched gears.
“We need you to get up. We’ve been trying for hours, but you seemed like you were in a coma. While you were out, we ended up taking the guard spirits hostage, and took over the town hall. The entire building is surrounded by soldiers, but Izzy put up a wall of ice, and they haven’t been able to get through. They have more item spirits like those others. Too many for us to win against. We need you awake so we can stealth away.”
“Never thought I’d hear you advocating for the sneaky approach.” I muttered, stretching.
I looked around, and saw that we were huddled behind a tall desk, the kind you typically find in banks. The phrase “Lost Persons Department” was written in golden lettering on one of the walls, causing me to break into a fit of laughter. Dee seemed startled until I pointed at the sign, causing her to join my mirth a moment later.
Still laughing, she dragged me to my feet. Izzy was on the opposite side of the counter, a look of concentration on her face as if she were doing something incredibly intricate.
“What’s up with her?” I asked Dee.
“She’s maintaining the barrier. Apparently, the army outside is trying to drill into it, and she’s regrowing the ice manually.”
I nodded, appreciative of how difficult that seemed to be. “Where are the others?”
“Guarding the prisoners. One of the prisoners wanted to talk to you, so you might want to pass by there before we leave.”
“Sure, why not?” I said, wanting to gloat at the zealot spirit before we left. Maybe that makes me capricious, but I was past caring by this point. She guided me to another room, where Amy and Gwen sat next to a pile of swords. A set of very disgruntled-looking spirits huddled against the opposite wall.
I looked at the zealot spirit. “I hear you wanted to speak with me?”
The female spirit who was sitting next to him spoke up shyly. “Actually, that was me. I was just wondering, is it true that you’re the Item God? Can you prove it?”
I thought about that for a moment. “I am. What did you have in mind?”
“I want to be able to fly. If you give me that, I would pledge to negotiate on your behalf with the officers outside.”
It was a pleasant change to have life throw me a rope. I examined her before speaking. She had brown hair, blue eyes, and a masculine face with a long scar on one cheek. I knew that was purely an aesthetic decision since her physical form was purely a spiritual projection. Her features seemed strange to me when compared to her red skin, folded wings, and demonic horns.
“Why do you want this? Demons can already fly right?”
“We can glide for a while if we jump off something tall. I want true flight. I want to soar upward, not spiral back down.
Her words surprised me. Until now, the demons I had spoken to spoke as if they could fly if they wanted to, but I had rarely seen them actually do it. I supposed it must have been either something cultural in Apocola, or Azeroth wanted to keep me in the dark. “Which sword is yours?” I asked. She pointed it out, and I examined it with itemancy.
Name: Amelia
Type: Sword
Attack: +98
Defense: +45
Durability: 500,000
Special Attributes: Ensouled
Exp: 30,325
Traits:
-Select to Expand List
“Wow, you’ve definitely got a lot of XP.” I said, switching to my power creation menu.
“Firenze keeps sending spies. We’ve been in charge of capturing or killing them.” Amelia replied, and I nodded, only half paying attention to what she said. One of her compatriots shushed her as I worked out the best implementation of what she wanted. Presumably, she wasn’t supposed to share that information.
Upgrade: Level 0
Name: Self-Flight
Desc: User can fly based on sheer kinetic force imparted by mana. This is usable by either the item spirit, or the swords wielder. Mana cost increases exponentially based on a mixture of weight and acceleration. Upgrades will reduce the mana cost. Wielder may use the item’s mana pool for this effect.
Cost: 25,000 XP
“I can do it, but I have to warn you, it’s going to cost a lot of mana to use it.”
“I can live with that. I’ll just have to keep increasing my mana.”
I shrugged, and mentally clicked the button to add the power to her sword. Because I was feeling nice, and hoping to garner goodwill, I also funneled her remaining XP into mana regen. The change was immediate. Her hair began to float slightly as if moving of its own volition, and her eyes glazed over for a moment as she concentrated on activating her new power. Suddenly, she was hovering several inches off the ground. Excitedly, she twirled in place.
“It’s really true. You are the Item God.” She exclaimed. The zealot next to her looked horrified.
Dee whispered into my ear, “you know you’re giving all of us that ability later, right?”
“You can already fly, why do you need another way to do it?” I muttered back.
Before Dee could answer, Amelia accelerated excitedly into the air, almost bowling over her companion. She twirled, and twisted through the air, ignoring the fact that the room was too small to accommodate her movements. I was almost grateful to have her dizzying antics come to an abrupt halt when she misjudged a turn, and slammed into a wall. She jumped to her feet, and resumed floating almost immediately, looking slightly abashed.
“I suppose I need to hold up my end of the
deal.”
I nodded. “All of you are free to go regardless. We don’t need hostages if we’re trying to negotiate peacefully.” I didn’t mention that we also had the option of simply vanishing into stealth. I preferred not to find out through casual arrogance that they had some kind of stealth-cancelling magic up their sleeves. In truth, I was used to my item spirits being individually stronger than most armies, but after nearly being defeated by a handful of city guardsmen, my confidence in their invincibility was shaken.
As we shuffled out of the room, Amelia asked me, “so what were you here for anyway? What do you want me to say on your behalf?”
I sighed. “We’re here to set up formal trade relations.”
She winced. “Ouch. Ya, I’m not really going to make any promises that I can talk them into that. If you’re lucky, I might be able to talk them into exile rather than execution.”
“I’d rather you stuck with trade negotiations if possible. We’ll live regardless of what happens.” I said, shaking my head.
She shrugged. “Your funeral.”
I led them to the top of the building, where Amelia took her compatriots swords, and floated down to the street. Initially, I waited there to watch her progress, but once I saw a demon lining up a shot on me with his gun, I retreated back into the building hastily. Gwen was just inside the door.
“Was that really a good idea?” She asked.
I shrugged. “We’ll find out. At least it’s a chance to do what we came here for.”
We settled in to wait. After what felt like hours, Amelia floated up to deliver the news.
“The king himself has taken a personal interest in what’s going on. First, he says, and I quote: I haven’t had a good bit of sport in ages, so if you can beat my champion in one on one combat, I’ll call the entertainment payment for the mess you’ve created, end quote. Second he’s curious about what you have to trade.”
“Wait does it have to be me that fights? Could we send Dee or Izzy instead?”
“Nope. He wants to see the human that defeated two of the best sword spirits in the kingdom.” I cursed under my breath but nodded morosely.
“As far as what I have to trade, tell him I have the ultimate XP farm, and I’m willing to barter for access.” I told her.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Such a thing exists?”
I nodded. “I should know, I made it.”
Chapter 16
“So, what should I expect from this champion?” I asked Amelia, as we moved toward the entrance to the town hall, which Izzy had cleared of ice. My spirits ranged behind me, seeming uncharacteristically subdued. The lack of bickering made me even more nervous than the impending combat.
“He’s another sword user, but leagues better than any of us. If I had to guess, I think he has the same sword knowledge skill you gave to Dee. His name is Sol. The king is a fighting enthusiast, so for the past six months, he’s been sending Sol to clear all of the biggest monsters, and dens he could find in order to get as much XP as possible. For some reason, the king calls the process ‘grinding.’ Aside from the basic mana requirements of his body, nearly all his XP has been going into physical stats, and various fighting skills. From what I’ve heard, he’s single-handedly cleared half the continent of nearly every dangerous monster.”
I gulped. I had barely kept up with the two item spirits I had fought so far, and only won against the zealotus spirit by a hail-mary. I didn’t like my odds against one who had been ‘grinding’ for six months straight.
Amy got my attention with a hand on my shoulder, and whispered something into my ear. My eyes widened as she bestowed a blessing of holy magic on me. I felt the flash of magic from the hand that was touching my shoulder settle into my body. This repeated with Dee and Izzy as well, both of whom handed me their weapons for use in the fight. I slipped Izzy’s ice sheath into a particularly large pants pocket as Dragons Eye settled around my hip. I glanced at Gwen, who raised her hands. “Not a goddess, sorry. I don’t have anything for you.”
I nodded. “I’ve been meaning to change that, but we don’t have enough XP right now. What do you think about being a lightning goddess?”
She smiled. “Sounds good to me.”
Izzy rapped her knuckle lightly on the back of my head. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Wha...mmph.” I had started to speak as I turned around, but her hand grabbed my hair, pulling my lips into hers.
She released me from her deathgrip after an interminable amount of time. We were surrounded by a chorus of gagging sounds from the others, and even Amelia was hiding a grin behind her hand.
“For luck.” Izzy said, deadpan.
I poked her face. “You should turn your facial expressions on.” Her face morphed instantly from deadpan ice queen, to blushing, and flustered breathing.
“I knew it!” I crowed, winking at the others. Izzy blushed even more deeply as Dee and Gwen whooped. Amy was snickering, and once again, Amelia was clearly trying to retain her composure.
Izzy’s face hardened, but the blush remained. “Well, I know we haven’t had much time for romance, but if you’re going off to face death, you have to give me something right?”
I laughed, and kissed her forehead. “You’re right, my bad. We’ll have to make time together later.”
She turned invisible as I extricated myself from her. I snickered, and saluted the empty air before turning back to Amelia.
“Alright let’s get this over with.”
She nodded, leading us through the door, and a tunnel of ice ten feet long. As we left the tunnel, I realized the tunnel was actually carved from a dome that encased the entire building like a snow globe. The thought hit me at a visceral level that I needed to make sure I never legitimately upset Izzy.
These thoughts were quickly cut off by a press of soldiers who swarmed our group. Soon we had our own bubble of soldiers who marched with us, presumably to ensure we made no threatening moves. Throughout the short walk, I did my best to appear harmless, but the only sign I had that it mattered was that I hadn’t yet been stabbed. I decided that was plenty for the moment.
After half an hour of walking, we arrived at what I could only call the town square, a large clearing with bricks for pavement, and demon’s packed so tight it was standing room only throughout the square. A cheer rose up from some of the milling crowd, and this was soon taken up by others until I thought I might go deaf. A shot rang out as one of the soldiers fired his gun into the air, and the entire square instantly went dead silent. Our bubble of soldiers began moving without my input, and I was forced to keep up as they bullied their way through the crowd.
“What’s with all the people?” I asked Amelia.
“What do you think? People heard Sol was going to have a deathmatch, and they ran here as fast as they could to watch. I imagine the king is turning this into some kind of publicity stunt. He’s like that you know. Half the things he does seem juvenile, until they end up serving a purpose down the road. I’m sure you’re here for more than just him getting a kick out of your fight.”
I nodded, and stayed silent after that. Trying to plan out how I would approach the situation was taking up all my attention. My plans were upended when the protective bubble of soldiers burst, standing behind us in a kneeling line. In front of us, was a lanky demon, possibly taller than six feet, sitting lengthwise on a throne made of black fabric, lower legs hanging over one end, his upper torso hanging off the other. His relaxed expression contrasted with a sharp look to his eyes that immediately put me on my guard. Around him, guards stood expressionlessly, and I felt as though I was waiting to be sentenced for my crimes.
Before I could continue my evaluation, one of the guards stepped forward, acting as herald. “You present yourselves before his eminence Emilio the Taciturn. Rowan Loran, step forward.”
I did so, until I was isolated in the middle of the empty space.
“Rowan Loran, you stand accused of disrupting governmental business, imp
eding law enforcement officers, impeding traffic, unlicensed itemancy, and committing an act of war on behalf of your nation. The sentence for these crimes is death by combat. Should you survive your sentence, all crimes will be removed from your record. Do you accept this punishment?”
I nodded. “I do. I was accidentally sucked into this mess, but my original intent in coming here was to establish trade relations. I still wish to do that if possible.”
The herald glanced at the king, and Emilio nodded. “Your words will be recorded for posterity.”
Before I could speak again, the herald called out to the crowd. “The sentence has been lawfully delivered, acknowledged, and recorded. Do any wish to challenge this ruling?”
No one spoke up, and the herald called out to them a final time. “Then without further ado, I present the king’s champion, Sol!”
The avatar emerged from the king’s throne, shining with a red aura similar to Hell’s own sun. He strode forward, a giant seven feet tall, with long black hair, and prominent horns. He smiled, and pointed teeth turned the smile into a predator’s grin.
“Greetings. Rowan was it? I would say it’s a pleasure, but seeing as I will be dismembering you in a moment, we both know that’s not entirely true.”
He flashed me another predators grin, and moved past me without another word. I drew myself together. He had made this personal by being a dick, so now it was on.
“Follow me.” The herald announced as he jogged toward the crowd. I followed obediently, and soon we were standing on a square, raised podium made of more bricks. It was glazed in the same material as the town hall, reflecting the red hue of the sun; though this time it covered the surface fully, rather than being used for artistic flourish. Strangely, the reflected light wasn’t blinding, but instead acted more like a halo of red covering the floor. The podium was at least twenty feet wide, and fifteen long, making a rectangle large enough to maneuver on.
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