Teresa: Everybody Loves Large Chests (Vol.5)

by Neven Iliev

  Hook had been lured into a trap specifically meant for him. Once the Republic learned of his powerful Domination Magic, they concluded that it would be only a matter of time before he was sent to deal with Hilda. So, the Berserker was told to make herself a very obvious and loud target, to which she readily agreed. She was, after all, particularly good at that sort of thing. The dwarf served as bait to lure in and distract the Psionic, giving the Sandman’s loyal minion a chance to strike. The vigilante had expressed his unwillingness to personally confront Hook, but promised to intervene should the opportunity present itself.

  In other words, Boxxy really didn’t want to face a powerful enemy unless it was certain of its victory.

  So far, both parties had done their part perfectly. Hilda was a good little loudmouth and forced the Empire to send Hook. When the target took the bait, Drea launched herself at him using an improvised, man-sized slingshot made from springy spider-thread. She had limited experience facing Psionics, so she relied on her usual anti-caster strategy. Namely, to gut the son of a bitch before he knew she was even there.

  However, this particular human proved much tougher prey. He detected Drea’s presence through a Skill called Psychic Screen. It allowed him to sense the presence of any and all sentient beings within its range, especially those harboring malicious intent towards him. It wasn’t as foolproof as a certain shapeshifter’s MLG, but it was still a powerful anti-assassination tool. He knew a demon was skulking about, but she had come flying at him with great speed and at an awkward angle that nearly caught him anyway.

  ‘Nearly’ being the operative word.

  Having failed in her initial ambush, Drea landed on one of the tiled rooftops and immediately turned around to stare at her target face-to-face. This sort of direct confrontation with her lunch wasn’t to her liking, which she displayed by hissing loudly while clacking her mandibles and claws together in irritation. Hook immediately swung his favorite Mind Hand down on top of her, but the nimble demon dodged it by bolting off to the side. She immediately countered by shooting a stream of white webbing from her left claw-hand, which latched onto Hook’s right foot.

  “Shit, my Force Field!”

  Having his fun suddenly interrupted like that made the Psionic lash out at the annoying arachnid instead of rebuilding his defenses. The light-bodied demon began rapidly climbing up the web line, clearly intent on ripping him apart. Hook would obviously have none of that and used a stunning Mind Blast Spell on her. Even if demons were highly resistant to mental attacks, they weren’t completely immune to them. Indeed, the mental jolt he unleashed was powerful enough to stop the stalker’s upward advance for a second, which was all he needed. In the next instant, his Mind Hand wrapped tightly around the demon, breaking and mangling her nimble limbs in its mystical grip. Rather than killing her on the spot, Hook made a throwing motion with his entire upper body, catapulting Drea into the distance. It was a one-way express ticket to the middle of the Rainy Woodlands.

  Just then, he felt a tug at his leg. Looking down in a panic, he realized the thick thread that spider-girl hit him with was still there, and Hilda had caught the dangling rope with both hands. One could practically hear the mad, evil grin spreading underneath her helmet.

  “Get over here!”

  The dwarven Berserker pulled on the thread with all her might. The enormous weight of her armor kept her feet firmly planted on the ground while the ridiculous strength in her arms overpowered whatever magic kept her opponent afloat. Hook slammed face-first into the cobblestone road some six meters away from the dwarf, sending mud, water, and rocks flying everywhere. The human had deployed a Force Field in an attempt to cushion his dwarf-assisted fall. His hastily-constructed barrier couldn’t absorb the force of the impact and shattered. The Psionic’s body smashed against the cobblestone ground hard enough to leave him reeling and dazed.

  Rather than pick up her axe and try to close the distance between them, Hilda chose to not give her opponent a chance to regain his concentration.

  “C’mon, boyo! Let’s meet the neighbors!”

  She tightened her grip on the rope-like thread and twisted her entire body around as she swung Hook sideways, sending him crashing through a nearby wall. He didn’t manage to bring his defenses up at all this time around, meaning the man took the full brunt of that impact. Hilda readjusted her grip on the sticky thread and spun in the opposite direction to fling him into the house on the opposite side of the alley. It wasn’t until the third time that Hook was ‘introduced to the neighborhood’ that the silken rope snapped from the strain. Finally freed from his role as Hilda’s ragdoll, the Psionic was allowed the precious few seconds he needed to regain his wits and reassess his situation.

  His arm was broken, he was bleeding externally, possibly internally, and the contents of his smashed-up potion vials were leaking from his gear. To make matters worse, his Psychic Screen detected a number of smaller presences coming towards him, accompanied by a particularly gruesome one unlike anything else he’d felt before. He decided this was enough ‘paycheck earning’ for the moment and chanted a Flight Spell through gritted teeth. He bolted straight up into the air and soared back toward Imperial lines to recuperate while he had the chance.

  Hilda bent over, collapsed to her knees, and panted heavily with only the raindrops on her helmet and the puddles of Imperial blood under her feet for company. She had been fighting literally non-stop ever since the humans cleared the wall, so her exhaustion wasn’t merely an act to draw that bastard in. He was much more powerful than Imiryl had let on, so she felt she would have definitely bit the big one if the Sandman’s bodyguard hadn’t left her a lifeline like that.

  “Heh. Guess that’s… Huff… two I owe that creepy bastard. Heh-heh.”

  The dwarf couldn’t help but chuckle between gasping breaths. First he bailed her out at Fort Yimin, and now this. The Sandman was no Milo Faehorn, but she’d end up just as indebted to him if things kept turning out this way.

  “Miss Hilda!”

  The dwarf shifted her gaze to the side, and her body reflexively tensed up at that strangely squeaky voice. The intensifying rain coupled with her blurry vision made it hard to make out shapes and colors, so she wasn’t sure if the two dozen or so blobs approaching her were allies or enemies. At least not until a random lightning strike illuminated the group, revealing the one in the lead had a full head of crimson hair topped by two triangular ears. As they got closer, she also realized that the growing white spot in her vision wasn’t the infamous light at the end of the tunnel, but a mithril golem.

  “Oh, if it isn’t the Merry Popper?” she relaxed her guard. “I forgot you and your trophy wife were around for a second there!”

  “Miss Hilda! This is not the time for that!” complained Keira as she and the rest of her squad gathered around her. “Are you alright?! Where’s the enemy?!”

  “Ran off with his tail between his leg. He got me good, but the tall creep’s pet helped me give as good as I got. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to lie down for a moment…”

  *CLUNK*

  That bare-bones explanation was all the dwarf could manage before she fell backwards onto the wet ground, her ruptured mind no longer able to cling to consciousness.

  Seeing that unstoppable force called Hilda suddenly keel over like that momentarily stunned the Republic troops, Keira included. Unlike the soldiers under her command, however, the redhead’s reaction wasn’t due to shock, surprise or disbelief, but a sign of the monster underneath weighing its options. It would be frightfully easy to finish off the Berserker in her current state and dispose of the witnesses. The rain would provide plenty of cover, and it could blame all their deaths on the failed ambush. Not to mention that Fizzy would be there to corroborate her story, so there would be no danger to Boxxy’s Facade.

  The upsides to doing so would basically boil down to gaining some Levels for the kill. Probably not too many, seeing as someone else had already done most of the work. Oth
er than that, it had a chance to absorb an absurd amount of Attributes or some high-tier Skill from her corpse. That was all quite tempting, but it could get plenty of those things if it just feasted on the nearby army. What it couldn’t get from the humans was the dwarf’s connections. Hilda knew people. Lots of people. And by being her friend and student, Keira could gain access to those people, not to mention the Berserker herself could be a useful ally. Last but not least, her death would mean the Sandman’s mission had failed, which would reflect poorly on his reputation and lead to fewer, less-profitable contracts.

  Having concluded that Hilda had more value alive than dead, Keira suddenly raised her voice.

  “Well, don’t just stand there!” she shouted at the others. “I want Fizzy, Jax, and Sparrow to heal her wounds. We’re still in a war zone, so we’ll need some cover. You four – check that house and secure it. I also want eyes on the rooftops. That means you, Mikey! Sarya, too. Let me know the instant you spot enemy movement! Once the VIP is treated we’ll move her inside and consult with command! Until then, Syme, I want you to check the human corpses for an officer and see if they have anything of value on them. And I mean documents or maps. If I see you pulling out any more golden fillings, I’ll ram them down your throat!”

  Shouts of ‘Yes, ma’am!’ and ‘Right away, ma’am!’ rose up from the gathered soldiers and conscripts as they scrambled to complete their assigned orders. Of course, a good number of them held initial reservations about a young girl ordering them around. Even if they knew better than to judge a book by its cover, it was still hard to accept a happy-go-lucky kid like that as their commanding officer. Indeed, many of them believed her to be little more than a mascot, despite Fizzy’s assurances to the contrary. It also didn’t help that the previous commander was killed in action at the start of the battle, leaving Keira in charge as the most senior in rank.

  However, even though a third of the unit was already dead, not a single man or woman who remained had any doubts as to the young girl’s ability to lead.

  Keira’s sound judgment and thorough understanding of her enemy had seen them through seven separate victories against Imperial units in this battle so far. She wasn’t a master strategist, but she wielded the troops at her disposal as if they were extensions of her own body. She knew the right moment to press the attack, didn’t hesitate to pull her men back to regroup when the need arose, and avoided engaging the enemy if there was no chance of victory.

  That said, compared to the bigger picture her accomplishments were so negligible and small-scale they did nothing to change the course of the battle for New Whitehall. Nothing would have changed even if she had gotten her unit wiped out almost immediately. However, this wasn’t how the people doing the actual fighting felt. Decanus Keira Morgana’s concise orders, caring personality, and unrelenting covering fire had elevated the young girl from a perceived burden to a shining beacon. In the eyes of her troops, she was a guiding light that would see them safely through the unrelenting storm called war.

  Thus, not a single one of them batted an eye when she told them their unit would be taking part in an operation to entrap and kill an enemy VIP. Their morale raised even further when they were told the famous Hilda and the infamous Sandman would be taking point. Adding Fizzy’s guardian-angel-like presence and Keira’s infallible command made them exclaim that the Goddess of Victory had blessed them with her presence.

  The Decanus then promptly called them idiots, reminded them that such a deity didn’t exist, and drove home the point that pointless bravado would only get them killed. Their role was strictly to provide support and backup in case Imperial foot soldiers showed up. If the enemy was powerful enough to overcome both Hilda and ‘Mr. S,’ then there would be no way the rest of them stood a chance. Watching the brief-yet-intense confrontation from afar proved that Keira’s judgment was, as usual, right on the money.

  The Republic troops found themselves taking refuge in a leaky, half-destroyed house as the battle raged on in other parts of the city. They were huddled around the unconscious but otherwise healthy Hilda while Keira reported their status to Silus Underwood via Comm-crystal.

  “I see,” he said after hearing all the necessary details. “It’s unfortunate he escaped, but we now have a better grasp of his abilities. For now, transport the VIP back to camp. Imperial forces seem to be falling back for the moment, so your way should be-”

  The blue-tinged image of the elven intelligence officer suddenly went silent and turned his head to the side.

  “What?!” he yelled in shock to someone out-of-sight. “Since when?! … Shit, they got us!”

  He turned his attention to the catgirl on the line.

  “Belay that, Decanus! Your new orders are to take shelter immediately! Go underg͘͝ŕò̸͏u̵ń͘҉d̢͘, fortify your p͟o̸s҉i̸͢ti͟͠͏o͢҉n and protect the VIP until y̢o̷u̢ ̵̨r̶͜e̸ce͏̶͞i̧v͏e̴ further-!”

  The signal suddenly grew distorted before abruptly cutting off.

  “You heard the man!” Keira shouted before any potential unease could set in. “Something big’s coming and we gotta be ready! Get the VIP into the basement and shore it up with magic! I want-”

  “Decanus! Ma’am!”

  One of the unit’s scouts – a human Rogue – suddenly poked his head through a hole in the ceiling and interrupted the redhead’s usual barrage of orders.

  “What is it, Mikey? Enemy movement?”

  “No, ma’am!” his voice was panicked. “I spotted something strange, but have no idea what it is! I think you should take a look at it!”

  “I have a bad feeling about this… Alright, I’m going topside to check it out! Syme – you’re in charge until I get back.”

  The catgirl turned around and tossed the Comm-crystal to one of the elven soldiers.

  “On it, ma’am!” he saluted, then directed the others to the basement.

  Keira nimbly climbed into the hole that the scout was poking out of, and the two of them soon arrived atop the half-destroyed slanted roof. They carefully crawled over the slippery red tiles and peaked their heads over the roof’s apex.

  “Up there, ma’am. In the northeast.”

  Following the Rogue’s finger, Keira easily located the anomaly he mentioned

  The sky was… blue?

  The depressingly gray layer of clouds had been dumping freezing rain over New Whitehall for a few days straight had a blank spot. It was as if someone had pierced a hole in the heavens themselves, allowing the afternoon sun to shine through and cast a breathtaking rainbow over the battlefield. This odd sight was further punctuated by the strange movements of the clouds. Rather than closing in to fill the bizarre gap as one might expect, they gave off the impression that they were running away from it of their own volition.

  Keira stood fully to get a better view. Her gaze wasn’t locked on the bizarre weather pattern overhead, but rather on the ground directly underneath it. It was a spot off in the distance, well within the city and far behind Republic lines. In that area, barely visible through the rain and smoke, she spotted a thick, unnatural, swirling red mist. Mikey followed her eyesight and noticed the anomalous cloud as well.

  “Do you know what that is, ma’am?” he asked expectantly.

  “No,” lied Keira, “but I don’t like it one bit. Where’s Sarya?”

  “She went off to do some ‘force recon,’ Ma’am.”

  In other words, she had abandoned her post to hunt Imperial stragglers.

  “Find her and bring her to the basement. Both of you are to take cover and follow Syme’s lead. I’m going to keep watch for a while longer.”

  “But I can’t just leave you here! If it’s about scouting-”

  “Just fucking go, Mikey!” she insisted. “My eyes are better than both yours and Sarya’s, and you know it!”

  “… Understood, ma’am.”

  The human hesitated for a second before saluting her and sliding down the tiled roof.

  Keira’s attention re
turned to the swirling red mist over a kilometer away. For once, it was something Boxxy was familiar with. That was precisely why the monster doubted whether cowering in a basement would be enough to survive the inbound threat. Its devious mind had already come up with an alternative solution, but the shapeshifter really didn’t want to go through with it. It hesitated mostly because it was a stupid idea. It was something it had thought about several times since crossing the border, but had never even considered putting into practice. Indeed, it was so abysmally terrible and prone to backfiring that attempting it would put its survival at serious risk. It didn’t need to do it either, as all it had to do to live through this was turn tail and desert the battle with all due haste, consequences to its Facade be damned.

  And yet, it still wanted to do it. This was an opportunity to let Keira survive the inbound threat, allow the Sandman to secure his next Republic-funded paycheck, and put those plagiaristic Imperials in their place, all at the same time. Whether it would actually work out that way was largely down to chance.

  And chances existed to be taken.

  1-800-7355-9687-7685

  *Beep … Beep*

  *Click*

  “Hello, you have-”

  “Carl! It’s Boxxy! Listen, I have an emergency!”

  “Wah? Uh, okay? Hit me.”

  The doppelganger took a deep breath and steeled itself for what was about to transpire. It would have to work quickly and with precision, and after a certain point things would be beyond its control entirely. However, it all started with a small, seemingly innocuous statement.

  “I need to make an appointment.”

  Part Three

  The earth shook, the winds howled, the air itself caught fire, and the clouds ran away as the sacrifice rose up into the air, her body radiating an intense red light. The human Warlock that just finished performing the Offering ritual dashed away from the scene as fast as his legs would carry him. He broke through the swirling red mist and collapsed on his knees before Zone. The stone-faced Monk had been the one to carry him so far behind enemy lines and was also responsible for getting him back.