by David Petrie
Max stepped away from Echo, searching the devastated theater for the rest of his friends and allies. He found Farn digging herself from a pile of broken chairs, while Luka crawled out from under a curtain that had been torn from the stage. Alastair turned up at the back of the room, electrocuting one of the remaining Boars with a bolt of lightning.
The Boar’s Knight and Archmage were still there, standing with a lack of direction, confused at the loss of their lord. Max let out a sigh and gestured to Luka for a heal.
Tusker was dead, but Noctem’s rulers were still in danger.
The fight wasn’t over yet.
Chapter Sixteen
Seven marched back toward the theater, following Cassius through the lobby. The three stowaways from Lockheart bracketed her on both sides. To her surprise, the moment made her feel like part of a team. Everyone moved with determination, like they were ready to take on the world. All that was missing was some background music and slow motion.
Even more surprising was that a part of her liked it.
A stray Boar turned in their direction as soon as they entered the theater lobby. Cassius held out one arm in front of her, indicating that he would take care of the obstacle. Without a word, he drew back his spear with one hand and placed his other to his forehead. Whispering the command, “Javelin,” he let it fly.
The weapon seemed to shoot from his hand under its own propulsion and the lone Boar was torn from his feet like a rag doll. His body hung limp, pinned to the wall behind him. He hadn’t stood a chance. Cassius didn’t skip a beat, walking past the dead Boar and ripping his spear free as the body flaked apart.
Seven’s shock at how easily Cassius had ended the player must have been evident on her face, because Corvin leaned over to speak.
“That’s a Rain class for you.”
“Rain class?” Seven whispered back.
“Yeah, they use mana to augment their movement and amplify their weapon’s impact. It’s a class that lacks utility, but they have huge damage potential that’s great for one-shotting things. They like to leap into the air and strike from above.”
“Ah, so I assume that’s why they’re called a Rain.” Seven frowned for a second. “Good to know, I’ve been calling him a spear guy.”
Kegan snorted at the conversation. “And what have you been calling us?”
“Mostly, I’ve been calling you…” Seven held up one hand and counted her fingers. “Bow elf, sword fox, and angry girl.”
Piper crossed her arms and harrumphed, demonstrating the accuracy of her description.
“Maybe you should start learning people’s actual classes,” Kegan held his journal open to one of its information pages so that she could see a list.
“That’s probably a good idea.” She deflated, remembering how much she had to learn. “I’ll try to look over it the next time I have a chance.”
“To get you started…” Kegan gestured to himself. “I’m a Leaf, Corvin is a Blade, and Piper is a Fury.” He slipped his journal back into his pouch. “Oh, and you’re a Venom mage.”
“I know what class I am, thank you very much.” Seven waved her hatchet at him in a vaguely threatening manner.
“Sorry to interrupt lesson time,” Cassius stopped abruptly, causing Seven to bump into the slab of muscle that was his back.
“Omph.” She blinked a couple times to clear her vision.
He ignored her. “Does this theater have a balcony?”
“Yeah, we checked it out earlier while we were sneaking around.” Corvin pointed to a doorway to the side of the theater’s main doors. “There’s stairs right in there.”
“Perfect.” Cassius headed in the direction the reynard had pointed without explanation. In turn, Seven followed without question.
The sounds of battle met her ears as soon as they set foot through the door. The din swelled and grew as they climbed the stairs, ramping up the tension in Seven’s chest. She was about to step right back into the chaos she’d run from just moments ago, but this time she wasn’t alone.
I can do this. She took a deep breath and followed Cassius through the curtain.
Kegan loosed three arrows as soon as they stepped out onto the balcony, killing two of Tusker’s Boars and wounding another. Now that Seven was beginning to understand Noctem’s classes, she recognized each of them as Leaf classes like Kegan. They had been sniping at the players from the balcony.
The wounded Leaf spun around and tore Kegan’s arrow from his back. He placed it on his bow and raised it to fire.
Seven reached for her hatchet, but before she could throw it, Corvin sent a Phantom Blade into his chest while Piper finished him off. Whatever their quarrel was about, it didn’t stop Corvin and Piper from working well together.
With the snipers dead, Seven ran to the edge to assess the situation below. Her fingers tightened on the railing as her mouth fell open. The theater floor had been completely demolished. Splintered wood was all that was left of the rows of built-in chairs. The buffet table was no more and some of the curtains were on fire. Sure, the fighting had been bad before, but now it was a war zone.
“I was only gone for a few minutes.”
“Yeesh, Max might have gone a little too far down there.” Kegan stepped up to the railing beside her.
“It looks like most of the Boars are dead and I don’t see Tusker.” Corvin joined them. “Might be dead too.”
Piper took a place on the railing as far from him as possible. “Not that Tusker would be easy to spot in that mosh pit. I don’t even see Max.” She paused. “Wait, no, there he is, getting punched in the face by Kashka.”
Seven searched the scene, finding Max in the grip of that enormous faunus from House Winter Moon. He was saying something, no doubt struggling to talk his way out of being pummeled. It didn’t seem to be working. Even worse, Echo had her whole body wrapped around Kashka’s arm and it didn’t even slow her fist down. Seven snorted a laugh at the sight, quickly covering her mouth. It made her like Max a bit more, knowing that he was in over his head just as much as she was.
She couldn’t find Ginger, but the rest of the Lords all seemed to be alive, sans Tusker. The Boar’s Archmage and Knight were still in the fight, though. The mage stood directly below with Alastair. They both circled each other with glowing circles hovering near their wrists like they were waiting for a spell to finish brewing before destroying each other. The Knight was on the stage, locked in combat with Farnsworth, while a few other duels went on around them.
On the upside, most of the Boars had been killed already. Granted, that didn’t seem to stop the fighting, as each of the Lords just picked new fights with each other. It was as if there was blood in the water and they had fallen into a frenzy.
“How are we going to stop this?”
Seven turned back to Cassius, realizing that he hadn’t said anything for a while. To her surprise, he was standing away from the railing at the other end of one of the aisles. She tilted her head at him for a second, just before he started running. He barreled toward her with no sign of slowing, his massive boots shaking the floor with each step. She dove out of the way just as he touched his forehead and roared the word, “Leap!” With that, he sprang into the air and soared over the edge of the balcony.
Seven leaned over the railing, tracking him with her eyes as he cleared the devastated seating area and thrust his lance down into the Boar’s Knight on the stage. Farnsworth jumped back and hid behind her gauntlet as the man she had been fighting crumpled under the sudden attack from above. As soon as Cassius‘ spear hit the floorboards, a shockwave of fire exploded outward in all directions. Anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the blast was thrown at least two dozen feet. Only Farnsworth was left standing, her boots somehow sticking to the floor as she braced behind the Death Grip’s small barrier.
Cassius ignored her, twirling his weapon through the dispersing cloud of his victim’s body. Finally, he dropped the butt of the spear down beside him.
The
n he waited.
The room went silent as his commanding presence overpowered the chaos. Duels simply paused as heads turned to him expectantly. Amelia froze with her saber resting against Larkin’s shears as his army of dolls closed in on Klaxon, her Archmage. Dartmouth threw water on a small fire before stopping to stare at the stage. Even Kashka stopped punching Max in the face for a moment, though she still held him off the ground by his collar.
Seven couldn’t believe the stillness that had fallen across the theater just from Cassius’ presence.
Now that’s a Knight.
Cassius opened his mouth to speak. “I am–”
A falling chandelier drowned out his words as it crashed into the floor, landing on the Boar’s Archmage that had been circling Alastair. Ginger dangled from the end of the chain above, clearly the culprit of the murder.
With that, the chaos immediately reasserted itself, with every delayed act of violence resuming as if it had never been interrupted. Cassius shook his head and rubbed at the bridge of his nose before slamming the butt of his spear down again to regain the room’s attention.
“Stopppp–argggoooooblaahhhh…”
His booming voice shifted into a scream that trickled off into an embarrassing gurgle. In the same instant, a cloud of crimson light burst from his body and streaked toward Farnsworth’s gauntlet where it was swallowed up by her glowing claws.
Seven’s eyes bulged as Cassius’ body fell forward, hitting the stage like falling tree. He was dead… again!
“Farn! What the hell?” Seven leaned over the railing. “He was on our side.”
“He was?” Farnsworth looked down at her clawed hand for a second, then shoved it behind her back. “Sorry, that one’s on me.”
Seven slapped a hand to her forehead. Good lord, these idiots are the people I was terrified of?
That was when a strange sound echoed in her ear. Instead of the musical chimes that the system usually used, this one almost sounded digital, like an old eight-bit system trying to say the word ‘no.’
That was when things got weird.
Slowly, confusion took hold throughout the theater. Seven couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something different. She raised her hand from the railing and rubbed her fingertips together. They felt… off.
Below, Kashka’s fist slowed as Max stopped complaining about the repeated battering. They looked at each other awkwardly for a second before she cracked him in the nose again. The Fury’s head flew back, but the crimson glow that normally represented damage was replaced with a pale blue shimmer.
He wasn’t hurt.
Kashka dropped him a second later. From the looks of things, the rest of the theater was making the same discovery. A few players stood, confused, with arrows and swords sticking uselessly from their bodies. Clearly, they should have been dead. Larkin stabbed himself in the thigh to test the situation.
Nothing happened. He didn’t even seem to be in pain.
“I see you’re all beginning to realize there is no point in continuing this idiocy.” A voice echoed across the room.
Seven searched for its source, finding an overly serious elf at the edge of the stage, walking up the stairs. She tried to remember his name, J3ff?
“I am here as a representative of Checkpoint Systems, and as such, I am a Game Master.” The elf gestured to a band around his arm. “Now, this took me a little time to set up, but I have activated a localized PVP ban that covers the entirety of this airship. It will prevent all players within its range from causing any damage to another. The ban can’t be disengaged until the craft lands in the morning. So I apologize, but until then, I’m afraid you will all have to behave like civilized people. Instead of,” he swept his hand across the room, “whatever this is.”
Seven blew out a sigh of relief.
She was safe.
Finally, she could go about her job without all of this insanity. The elf on the stage may have been condescending, but right now, Seven could have kissed him. She wouldn’t, of course, that would be unprofessional, but still, she was grateful.
Seven turned and ran to the nearest flight of stairs, bounding down them two at a time until she reached the theater. Now that she didn’t have to hide behind others, she didn’t want to miss anything.
“Oh, come on, J3ff!” Alastair’s irritated voice whined as soon as Seven reentered the theater. “I had everything under control. We literally just finished off the last of the Boars. They’re all dead!”
“Not all of us.” A pair of Tusker’s men both raised their hands. Neither looked particularly strong.
“Alright, sure,” Alastair brushed the two of them aside. “All but two randoms are dead.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” J3ff took an apologetic tone but held his ground. “But you left me in charge as a representative of Checkpoint Systems, and I did what I thought was appropriate.”
“Fine, fine, whatever.” Alastair deflated and grumbled under his breath. “Well that came back to bite me.”
“So what you’re saying,” Ginger stepped into the argument. “Is that you intervened in the game to protect an event run by your investors.”
“‘Cause that sounds a lot like giving preferential treatment to businesses that are willing to pay for it.” Max joined in, his knuckles turning white around the grips of his pistols. “And that sounds like a violation of the rules.”
“I assure you, it is not.” J3ff barely looked at him as he responded.
“He’s right, unfortunately.” Alastair’s shoulders sank. “It’s definitely against the spirit of the game, but it isn’t against the actual rules. I don’t like it, but it is what it is.”
Max didn’t say anything more, but a low growl emanated from his throat.
“I, for one, can’t thank you enough.” Dalliance strolled onto the stage and threw an arm around J3ff. “You may well have salvaged this entire night.” He turned, steering Alastair’s assistant away from the center of the stage where his twin, Grindstone, took their place.
“Now that order has been restored, I must ask for any items that may have been borrowed from our first round of bidding to be returned.” Grindstone gestured to the item table that had been kicked over by Nix during the battle. “Currently, we are missing: a tower gauntlet, a scalefang egg, and a possessed hatchet. I saw Tusker’s Knight with the gauntlet, but the others are still unaccounted for.”
Seven’s chest tightened, realizing that she had to give up the hatchet she’d been using. She started to raise her hand, feeling a bit crestfallen.
“Sorry, the egg rolled off the stage, so I grabbed it and stored it so it wouldn’t break. I did win the bidding on it, so I thought that was appropriate.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Grindstone gave her a disapproving sneer, like she was some kind of idiot. “That egg is a unique item. No matter how fragile it might seem, it can’t break.”
“Well, I didn’t know that,” Seven spat back, with half a mind to keep the hatchet and pretend she knew nothing about it. Unfortunately, she was still too afraid that she might get in trouble if she got caught. She reluctantly reached into her robe for the weapon and opened her mouth to speak.
“Ow, hey,” was all Seven got out as Ginger seemed to trip over herself to elbow her in the side.
“Sorry, clumsy me.” The Lady of House Lockheart shot Seven a knowing look and swiped a hand across her neck, giving her the universal sign for ‘shut up before you incriminate yourself.’
To Seven’s surprise, she felt herself slip the hatchet behind her back as Ginger gave her a lesson in theft.
“I saw Tusker take the hatchet.” She raised her hand with confidence. “My guess is, he’s respawned back in Torn by now. He did win the bid on it though, so maybe you can bill him for it or something?”
Seven’s mouth fell open as Ginger covered for the theft, her forehead breaking out in a cold sweat. She hadn’t meant to steal the item, just borrow it. Now, though, her actions were quickly becoming a crime of
opportunity. Seven swallowed, unsure what she should do.
That was when Grindstone blew out an aggravated huff. “Well, there’s nothing that can be done about that.” He pulled out a ledger. “Anyway, if everyone who purchased items during the first round of bidding could approve a transfer of funds, we can get everything handed out to their rightful owners.”
Oh no! It was already too late.
That hatchet was an item worth thousands, and she had stolen it. Guilt racked her chest while a strange sense of satisfaction swam through her as she realized that a small part of her wanted to keep the possessed weapon. She felt the corner of her mouth tug upward in a crooked smile that felt entirely foreign.
The rest of the auction’s guests met with Grindstone one by one to approve their account transfers. Farnsworth pocketed the locket she’d purchased like a raven snatching up something shiny. The thought reminded her that Ruby hadn’t arrived with Cassius like Leftwitch had said he would.
Where is that dumb bird?
She shrugged. It wasn’t like she wanted the thing clawing her shoulder all night anyway. It could stay lost for all she cared.
Once the accounts were settled for the first round of bidding, Grindstone addressed the crowd of players standing in the wreckage of the theater.
“Unfortunately, we need to take some time to get this mess cleaned up before continuing the auction. So I’m afraid that we will have to take a break. Please feel free to venture out onto the deck of the ship. We will reconvene in one hour.”
With that said, the auction’s surviving guests dispersed, leaving Seven with nothing to do. A large part of her wanted to find somewhere quiet to sit and wait, maybe reclaim the professionalism she’d lost. After getting pulled into Lockheart’s affairs and stealing hatchets, she felt she was losing her grip on herself. In truth, she wanted nothing to do with them. Especially after Farnsworth had killed Cassius.
Then she remembered her orders.
Leftwitch had wanted Seven to get close to Lockheart. To get close to a house that she had been terrified of for most of the night. Fortunately, the brawl had showed her a bit of who they really were; a bunch of misfits as inept as she was.