Queen Killer

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Queen Killer Page 32

by M. H. Johnson


  Mitch paled, a look of dismay upon his features. “Jeezus. I never thought of it like that, but hell, that sounds just like the vindictive psychopath. With everything that crazy Terran Contender has done to piss him off, what should have been a simple succession has turned into a bloodbath, and now that asshole Kentric's going to have it in for our entire continent."

  Insight gained! A very perceptive gnome, for a simple artificer.

  "You're more than just the house magician, aren't you, Gills?" John said.

  “He was our house seer, actually,” Mitch explained, gazing fondly at the tiny man dressed in what John could only think of as a wizard’s robe. “It was a sight, all those years ago, when he came to our manor, bold as brass, and proceeded to bargain with Father for the right to serve him as an arcane counselor of sorts, back when Father was interested in that sort of thing, in return for a promise to leave the primeval woodlands within our territory untouched.

  “Sadly, though the gifts he displayed were impressive, and his ability to control his own arcane emissions so controlled that he could work within just a couple feet of technology without shorting it out, Mr. Gills’ arcane insights could make no headway within the realm of Horror, as he puts it, and Father had already given his word. Thus his role shifted from seer to becoming our artificer on call. And since he also oversees the Silbion and arcane herb production, not even Father could argue that the bargain struck was a bad one. We make more with what our towns harvest on the outskirts of primeval woodlands than we would harvesting the lumber and growing far more boring crops.”

  The tiny man flashed a cool smile, turning to bow before John. “What I once was is irrelevant, young master. What is relevant is that your blade is once more in its idealized form. And so long as you forbear striking Elementium armaments, I suspect your metallurgical marvel shall survive most encounters unscathed.”

  John gave a grateful nod. “Thank you, Mr. Gills.”

  “You are quite welcome, lad. Am I correct in assuming that you now hold Claimance over the entire province?”

  John winced at those words, the dice in his head rattling all the louder to his ears. “Let’s just say I’m holding the torch, and you will see the flames burning brightly soon enough.”

  Gills gave him a strange look. “You’re not going to burn down the forests, I pray?”

  John laughed at that. “The farthest thing, I promise you.”

  The gnome looked relieved. “Thank Phoebe. Well, then, should the bargain your father and I struck suit you, I would be pleased to serve as your magician in whatever capacity you see fit, and assure you a fair yearly harvest of Silbion, Dragontears, Crimsonwart, and all other alchemical ingredients grown within your lands, or a cut of our alchemical profits, whichever suits you best.”

  “I’m no alchemist, so a cut of the profits would be best, and why do I get the feeling that the villages nominally under Seneschal Elgin’s administration actually come to you for counsel?”

  The gnome’s smile grew. “Seneschal Elgin has an enviable job, as none of our villagers consider the clueless northern administrator worthy of their time. As for profits? Yes. Half the proceeds from our sales go to the herbwomen and alchemists who tend to the gardens and manufacture the potions, the other half goes to the master of the land. That's the bargain we struck with your father, the same pact as has been struck with various rulers and ancient wizard kings since time immemorial."

  John nodded. “Sounds fair to me.”

  “Excellent! Now let’s get you kitted up, young master. Your friends are sparring with the House sabermaster as we speak. No doubt you wish to join them.”

  John grinned and nodded, properly kitted up in no time. Following Mitch, he soon found himself enjoying the sight of Lucy and Emily sparring with blunted sabers and reflective shields in the middle of a massive gymnasium of polished hardwood and wall-to-wall mirrors, showcasing numerous training mannequins as well. For added protection, the girls were wearing suits of plate and mail with helmets much like Mitch’s own.

  For all that good quality steel armor was nowhere near as heavy as most people thought, most suits also hugging the hips to further distribute the weight, John could still tell that both girls were close to exhaustion by the way they panted after each exchange, trembling blades no longer held diligently in tierce, but collapsing to their sides.

  “Fight called, now take a rest,” barked the firm voice of a man whose chiseled features John immediately recognized, having last seen him in far more compromising circumstances. “You will both need to commit to a disciplined regimen of calisthenics. Remember, in a real battle, no one’s going to care about your exhaustion. They’re going to seize upon your weakness and destroy you with it.”

  Carl, kitted in armor exactly like the girls, had been practicing strikes on a training dummy while the girls sparred. Now he turned around and raised his visor, his face lightening in a welcome smile. “Hey, guys, look who showed up. And damn, John, if that isn’t some sweet armor!”

  John couldn’t help grinning at the admiring glances sent his way, Lucy and Emily both taking off their helmets, revealing a pair of strikingly beautiful girls with flushed cheeks, brilliant eyes, and hair that seemed almost to glow with vitality.

  “John, you’re finally awake! And wow, get a load of that armor! Is that a full set of dwarven lorica segmentata?” A grinning Lucy gushed, her eyes twinkling with a cheerful ebullience so different from the frightened sarcasm she had wielded like a shield when they had all been fleeing for their lives. “I hear that shit is worth an absolute fortune!”

  John winked. “I guess I lucked out, then. It’s good to see you, Lucy. You too, Emily.”

  Emily grinned. “Likewise, John.”

  Lucy gave an enthusiastic nod. “So, I guess we kind of owe you our lives. Thank God you were able to close that gate, but damn was it close. If you had been just a half-second slower, if that freak had made it all the way through with his blade...” Her cheerful smile wavered as she grew pale, and Emily was suddenly beside her, squeezing her hand.

  “Try not to think about it, Lucy. Just let it go,” Emily whispered as Lucy began to tremble.

  “That monster was coming for us. You saw his gaze, Emily, you saw! And then, and then his eyes turned so strange and he fell over, and it was just the front of him. He had been sliced clean in half! And you could see his brains and his insides and everything and it was just so bloody and I can’t believe Mitch made me claim him, he was so icky but...”

  “But we made it,” Carl soothed, taking Lucy’s other hand. “All that shit that happened back home, the madmen trying to chase us down… history, Lucy. It’s the final page of the final chapter of our crazy past lives we never have to look back at again.”

  Lucy gulped, jerking a nod, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re right, guys. You’re so damn right. This is a fresh new chapter of a story where we really can become whatever we want to in life. Because we’re actually in a world where people can level up.”

  “That’s right,” Emily said. “Or at least, people like us who jump through can. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a break, and those pastries and coffee are definitely calling my name.”

  “Is that a fact.” Lucy grinned, assisting her friend as they stripped out of their armor.

  Emily nodded solemnly. “If you listen carefully, you can here those chocolate eclairs saying “Emily… eat me!”

  Lucy chuckled. “Well, who am I to turn down a chocolate eclair? Come on boys, it’s break time!”

  John felt a weight lift off his shoulders just being in the company of his friends, grateful he had gotten to them in time. Though he was kitted for training, he was more than happy to follow their lead as they made their way across the polished hardwood floor to a table all but buried under a magnificent spread of pastries, loaves of bread, crocks full of butter and clotted cream, and kettles on warm burners full of coffee, hot chocolate, and steamed milk laced with nutmeg.


  Emily grinned, saluting John and Mitch both with cream-filled pastry now in hand. “Somehow, we made it here alive. And I, for one, plan on taking full advantage of everything this wonderful place has to offer, and that most definitely includes stuffing my face with as many of these delicious Bavarian eclairs as I can.” Excited eyes locked upon John. “And best of all, I did it!”

  John couldn’t help smiling at her enthusiasm. “Fantastic. What did you do?”

  “I just achieved Rank 1 in saber!”

  John exchanged a look with Mitch, who smiled back. “That’s awesome, Emily. The first step is always the hardest.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “I know it’s just a Rank 1 skill, but that’s not the point. The point is I can now see my character sheet! Do you know what that means?”

  John couldn’t help but share in her excitement. “You can level up?”

  “Exactly! Just like any player jacking on through a black cat helm. Oh gosh, now I’m feeling excited! Now I’m wondering just how far I can go!” Emily squeezed Lucy’s hand. “Now we can do this together, Lucy. We can both be adventurers, living lives even more awesome than all the adventures we shared online!”

  Lucy flashed an exhausted grin. “Yes, but you and Carl were sparring for like, forever before you even faced off against me. That’s the only reason you were panting at the end, there. How did you get so fucking strong? And I still have yet to Rank in Saber.”

  “But you already have a character! You never told me you’ve jumped into Endless before.”

  Lucy winced. “That’s because I’m not exactly proud of how I got there.”

  “Okay, now you have to tell me what went down!” Emily enthused. “Did you find some sort of cheat code to boost your stats? Hustle your helm off an arrogant prick of a player? Is it one of the newer exclusive models you boosted off a distributor? Did you win your gear using underhanded tricks and dirty-dealing? Inquiring minds want to know!”

  Lucy sighed. “More like I stole the helm from my drug-dealing ex after the asshole swore he’d kill me in real life. My back was against the wall and I thought, what did I have to lose?”

  “Your life?”

  Lucy smirked. “I know. How stupid can you be, right? Anyway, I set it up to make it look like his supplier had robbed him. And if you mean was I taking a risk just jumping into Endless, I still think those stupid clips with all that screaming and blood had to have been doctored. For me? No pain, no blood, no drama at all. It wasn’t even hard. I just focused on the strange hum I heard in the back of my mind, and poof, I was here. I was surprised as hell that I could actually jack in, let alone get the exotic class that I did. And for a time, things were good. Better than good. I was in instant demand when I tooted my own horn on Readit. Hell, I even managed to join up with a ranked party while still at level 1! I’ll be honest, it was a fantastic couple of weeks. The high I got leveling up, better than anything you could imagine. But one brush with death where everyone was shouting parachute, all of us fleeing for our lives was enough for me.

  Her gaze grew haunted. “After that, I was too afraid to jump back in again. Terrified I’d find out my teammates hadn’t made it. And I just couldn’t stand the thought that someone might have actually died, and it was all my fault! Sometimes I wake up in the dead of night, still hearing the screams of my friends.”

  John heart went out to the girl, certain he knew exactly how she felt. A part of him still wondered if he could have done things differently back at the cave. “Lucy, you were a novice player an experienced group was taking under their wing, and a bad wipe is a risk all adventurers face, so how could it possibly have been your fault?”

  Lucy shook her head. “No, you don’t understand, John. I was the one who kept pushing the group to take on that dwarven ruin, so eager to level up and see how I far could advance my powers. It’s my fault we dared that final delve. Me. So damned eager to get ahead, to feel that rush of leveling up yet again, to wow my friends and awe my family. But now I’m just so afraid their blood is on my hands. After that awful night, I was too ashamed even to look at that stupid helm. And then my asshole ex finally put two and two together and came to my house, demanding his gear back.”

  She lowered her head, radiating shame. “I could… I could see the gun at his waist when he came storming in, yelling at my entire family. And the worst thing is, my dad could see it too.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and John could taste her remembered humiliation, so acute his Hunter’s Sense ability had become.

  “So I went back upstairs, gave him back his damned helmet, and he left. He didn’t draw the gun or anything. He didn’t say a word or ever bother me or my family again. He just left. But the look in my father’s eyes, him knowing I wasn’t his perfect princess, knowing I had put the whole family at risk… I almost wish that asshole had shot me.”

  Mitch was by her side in a heartbeat, lifting up her chin, gazing into her eyes. "But it all worked out. Your ex got his toy back, you found an epic class, and you're here, alive with us today, while that asshole and all his friends have long since been flash-fried by Dominion laser cannons."

  She winced and pulled away. “That doesn’t help me feel better, Mitch.”

  Mitch shrugged. "Life doesn't care about our feelings, Lucy. That doesn't mean we shouldn't embrace all of life's potential, savoring each day we're alive and able to reach for our dreams. Because despite all the shit we went through to get here, we are very much alive.”

  “Yes, I know, and I’m grateful we’re among the living, believe me. But my old crew, I don’t think they are.” She sighed, shaking her head, her hand squeezing Mitch’s so tightly. “And whenever I finally catch a glimpse of happiness, whenever I’m with someone I really like… I always end up fucking everything up, because how dare I be happy when my guild mates are dead?”

  Golden eyes transfixed her own. “All those years you played soccer, you were a varsity player, right?”

  Wordlessly, Lucy nodded.

  Mitch grinned. “So tell me, if a perky hotshot freshman on the JV team starts trying to tell you how you should be playing, are you going to pay them any mind? No matter how cute they are, are you really going to switch up how you play offense or defense just to please them?”

  “Of course not,” Lucy said. “But this is totally different.”

  “Bullshit. No experienced crew is going to take directions from a noob, Lucy. They’re going to teach you the basics, make damned sure you can perform your role, and expect you to just listen, take orders, and do your part. That’s it. The only reason why your old crew braved that dwarven ruin is because they were hungry to do it themselves. And they would have done it even if you hadn’t been around. Because how the hell else would you have even known about it if they hadn’t told you?”

  Lucy’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. If I had been in charge… you’re right. No way in hell I’d try to make a name for myself heading the ball on the regular, just because some beginner thinks it’s a good idea. I mean, that’s kind of obvious. Who wants to risk permanently fucking up their lives with brain damage? But the truth is, I tuned out almost everything freshmen players had to say. Even in practice, I’d only act like I cared about their suggestions if the coach was looking my way, if I was planning on doing it anyway.” She had the grace to flush. “Looking back on it, I was kind of an arrogant bitch.”

  Mitch smirked. “You think a party of elite players who can basically say fuck you to the status quo on Earth with the Dominion backing their status as honored mercenaries are going to be any less arrogant than you were? Face facts, beautiful. You were the victim of a classic mindfuck. They knew there was no way in hell they could force you to go into that deathtrap. But if they stroked your ego enough, made it seem like it was your choice, hyping you up about ways to power-level, then hesitating to follow through, turning the tables so it was you convincing them...”

  Lucy trembled. “Shit, they took me to a save point less than a hundred yards from that damned
ruin, gushing about all the loot it was supposed to hold. And they’re asking me. Me! If I thought we were ready. Then they’re telling me we’re better off taking the slow and sure path to power, even if another group’s sure to grab the best spoils if we don’t act fast.”

  “Mitch is right,” Emily said. “They were definitely manipulating you. And their claims about other people grabbing the best spoils is bullshit. Even I know those ruins are supposed to reset. Completely. Just like dungeons resetting in a computer game. And how the hell that works in a real, actual world, I have no idea.” She smiled into Lucy’s dazed eyes. “Look. I’m not saying you have to hate them. I’m not saying they were an evil bunch of bastards. But they were doing everything they could to sell you on tackling whatever the hell it is you guys took on. Problem is, when everything blew up in their faces, you were the one left holding the guilt bag.”

  Lucy just shook her head, eyes filled with profound relief. “Thank you, guys. I can’t tell you how good it feels, having that weight on my shoulders. Now, for the first time in a long time, I actually feel like I live my life without regret holding me back.”

  She gave Mitch an impulsive kiss, eyes twinkling merrily. “You definitely saved this damsel in distress. How can I ever repay you?”

  Mitch seemed to flow around her, powerful arms holding her tightly to him. She closed her eyes and smiled, cheeks flushing prettily when he whispered into her ear. “Savoring every night I can spend in your arms, gazing into your eyes, fulfilling your every desire is all your servant could ever ask for.”

  Mitch’s voice was barely a whisper, but Carl’s smirk and Emily’s grin made it all too clear that everyone understood the gist of what was being said.

  “So yeah, that’s a wicked sweet set of armor you got there, John. And what kind of blade is that?” Carl asked, still kitted up.

  John grinned. “It’s a greatsword you can comfortably use like a longsword if you have the strength for it. Though straight for most of its length, the slight curve in the foible makes it wicked for cleaving open really nasty foes, and the sharpened clip-back point can hammer through monstrous chitin or plate armor like a poleaxe spike. Or, at least it can if you’ve spent a couple hundred hours practicing that specific technique, which I did one summer that lasted way too long.”

 

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