Chapter 251 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon III

📅 2 de noviembre de 2024 ✍️ By Christopher Chambers ⏱️ 12 Mins Read 🗂️ Blog 🕒 Last updated: 5 de noviembre de 2024

Misadventures Incorporated

Spicy Space Squid

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Chapter 251 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon III

A distinct, familiar sound entered Claire’s mind as she awoke from her slumber. Clinks and clanks, followed by creaks and groans. With each repetition, they grew ever louder. The sound of an armoured knight moving across a wooden floor, repeated for every soldier in the tiny army that slowly marched its way up the stairs. It was difficult to determine its exact size, but it sounded like a unit roughly twelve persons strong. Perhaps fewer if too many of them were four-legged, but such creatures were nowhere near as common in Vel’khan as they were back home.

Rolling over in bed, she extended an arm and reached for Boris, who was asleep on the nightstand, but she stopped shy of grabbing him as she recalled that the hotel was safe. The authority skill’s barrier extended across all four of their rooms and captured the hall between them as well. Only authorised personnel could enter while she was present, a function only confirmed when the force was summarily denied. Exactly one person was able to pass through the shield, a woman whose steps were made heavy by her unnecessarily large chest.

She knew that there was no danger, but the lyrkress kept her ears raised as her hazy mind gave form to the scene around her. It was already morning. The sun wasn’t quite up, but the birds were already happily chirping away. Sylvia was still asleep, but that was a given. The lazy half-elf was anything but an early riser.

Claire sat up as the panicked footsteps closed in on her door, but found herself too reluctant to leave her bed. She scooted only an inch at a time, often stopping to blink, stretch, or yawn.

Neither the knocking nor the sound of her name pulled her from her stupor. And perhaps that was why she did not immediately realise it at first, but after stretching her arms over her head and taking a deep breath, she found that it could no longer be denied. There was something in the back of her mind bubbling with excitement, pushing her to rise. When she directed her attention towards it, it shied away and quieted down, but only for the briefest of moments.

It was an interaction that had the lyrkress blinking. She had always assumed that only she could take the bridge. But clearly, the assumption was false. The fake was right there with her, urging her excitedly to look around and show it everything she always saw.

She was almost tempted to comply, but she shook her head and walked over to the door instead, opening it just as the squid reached for the knob.

“What?”

“Thank the moon.”

Arciel breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the lyrkress. She fell forward, entrusting her weight and invading her personal space without a hint of reluctance. Claire contemplated stepping out of the way, so that she could watch as the squid planted her face into the ground, but decided against it after spotting the dark bags under the humanoid cephalapod’s eyes.

“I assumed the worst when I heard that our troops were captured by the enemy elites.” Ciel spoke into her shoulder as she squeezed her waist. “Is Lia present as well?”

Claire nodded, a response that prompted the vampire to take a series of deep breaths and loosen her grip. Eventually, she stepped away, her composure mostly regained.

“I am glad that you are well.” It was only after she adjusted her hat and produced her fan that she spoke again. “But I would very much prefer you made a report, so that I needn’t have concerned myself with your safety.”

“You’re overreacting,” said the moose, with a roll of the eyes. “Nothing’s going to happen. Especially not with her,” she pointed at Sylvia, “being as nosy as an erdbrecher.”

“Perhaps not, but this was the first incident after which we heard nothing, following a defeat.”

Claire tilted her head. “I thought we had scouts.”

Arciel pulled her hat over her eyes. “They were eliminated.”

“All of them?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It was only at a few of their posts that we found traces of combat. Most were likely caught unawares.”

“Oh.” Claire led the princess over to the couch and closed the door behind her as she recalled the fishnet-laden assassin. “I should’ve known. One of theirs popped out of nowhere and stole my fishing rod.”

“Your fishing rod? For whatever reason were you carrying a fishing rod?”

“Oh, you know, nothing too important,” said the lyrkress, with an innocent smile.

“Claire? Please expl—”

Arciel furrowed her brow and began to speak with a worried tone in her voice, but Claire prodded her in the cheek and interrupted her. Of course, a single jab was not enough to make her yield, but the very same set of events was repeated when she tried again. It took five failed attempts for the squid to finally raise her hands in surrender.

“Good choice.” Claire stuck out her tongue.

“I must say that while it is reassuring upon the battlefield, your obstinance is insufferable at times like these,” said the squid, with a pout.

“I’m not obstinate.”

“Perhaps I would be willing to accept that claim, if you informed me of the circumstances of our defeat.”

“Oh. Right.” Claire magically seized the witch’s hat and placed it over her own head as she sat down in front of the coffee table. “We killed the commander, but couldn’t get past the mercenary. He was a defensive build, most likely thrice ascended. Fishnets was decently skilled too. I didn’t notice her until Natalya pointed her out.”

“Whatever do you mean by fishnets? Is it meant to be a euphemism for the prison guards?”

“No. Another erdbrecher, a rogue of some sort. Stealthy enough that I didn’t notice her. Even when her eyes were on me.”

“It appears that the mercenary force in the queen’s employ is more powerful than anticipated,” muttered the squid. “Our intelligence network did not reveal so many proficient elites.”

“They’ll be worth a lot of experience. If we can kill them.”

“I am not sure why I expected you to consider the problem from any other perspective,” said the squid, with a sigh.

Her exasperation lasted until an eye suddenly opened atop the lyrkress’ head. It rose like a periscope and slowly moved around, twisting its way from left to right. The curious oculus retreated back into Claire’s mane when the qiligon followed the witch’s gaze, but it was not quite quick enough to escape her notice. Even if she was in Claire’s body, the fake remained bound by the confines of her speed.

“It appears that you are yet in need of rest,” said the bloodsucker.

“I’m fine,” said the lyrkress, as an eye appeared on her ear. “You need it more than I do.” She returned the witch’s hat as she spoke, lightly placing it so it sat perfectly atop her head.

“Rest is a luxury I cannot afford. Now that I have confirmed your safety, I shall catch up on what is necessary upon returning to headquarters.” Arciel grabbed the halfbreed by the shoulders, spun her around, and pushed her back towards her bed. “I would prefer if you did the same by noon. We are scheduled to hold an emergency discussion so that we may revise our plans over our midday meals.”

Claire scrunched up her face as she allowed the stupid squid to steer her. “I’d rather not. Meetings are boring. I’ll just fall asleep.”

“That, I do not doubt,” giggled the tentacle monster, “but it was only the three of you that were present at the scene, and it is clear that you are yet in need of rest and unable to provide a proper account.”

“Have the cat do it.” The snake was rolled into her bed by a shadowy hand. The very same spell tucked her in under the sheets, while its yawning caster sat at the foot of her bed.

“I shall certainly be asking the same of Lia, and Sylvia as well, but it would be best for you to share your perspective, in the case that it captures a detail missed by both the others.”

“I’ll think about it,” muttered the lyrkress.

“Thank you,” said Arciel. “I shall be visiting Lia and then taking my leave. Would you prefer I lock the door and slide the key back under?”

“Just close it. I’ll lock it with a vector.”

“I shall do just that then,” said the squid. “I bid you rest well, Claire. Let us convene again once your exhaustion has abated.” She stood up from the bed, her feet unsteady as she moved towards the nightstand and reached for the key.

“...Wait.” The lyrkress paused for a moment before sitting up and grabbing the retreating kraken’s hand.

“Yes? What is it?”

“You need to sleep.” She stole the pointed headdress again and pulled it all the way over her eyes.

“I will rest immediately upon sorting the documents I left in Lord Pollux’s castle.”

“You can do that later.”

“I cannot. They are urgent and require my immediate attention.”

“Do it when you aren’t about to fall asleep.”

“There is no time.” Ciel tried to resist, but Claire refused to let go and drained her mana each time she attempted to break free.

“I don’t care. Sleep. Now.” The scalewarden tugged on the vampire’s arms. Had she any more energy, she surely would have been able to keep herself steady. But being drained as she was, she fell straight into the other girl’s arms. Claire threw her under the covers before she had the opportunity to complain, and sat atop her stomach to keep her from moving.

“How unreasonable.” Despite complaining, the vampire did away with her resistance and obediently closed her eyes, a faint smile on her lips.

“I’m very reasonable.”

Claire moved the tentacle monster’s hat onto Boris’ head and poked her in the cheek one last time before walking out the door. The princess’ guard was awfully confused to see her venture out all by her lonesome, but she stuck out her tongue and waltzed into the squid’s room without any further explanation. The lock meant little before her vectors. She effortlessly flipped the latch and invaded the kraken’s abandoned den.

Only once settled in her chair with the lock re-engaged did she finally raise her hand and confront the eye that had settled in her palm. Even with her gaze fixed firmly upon it, it was still spinning around excitedly, observing everything it could find. Its perspective was added to her own, throwing her field of view off-kilter. She didn’t have any trouble when in control of her extra eyes, but with another entity at the keel, she found herself assaulted by constant waves of nausea.

It didn’t snap to attention until she called out to it in her mind, her voice a stern snarl. And even then, while it did regard her with some degree of deference, it couldn’t stop its one eye from wandering. As much as she wanted to scream at it, she couldn't quite bring herself to broadcast such a strong emotion. She could feel its pure, unadulterated joy. The very same kind that she had felt, when she was first allowed to explore. In a way, it was just like her, a sheltered princess finally free from her father’s, their father’s, unreasonable demands.

That was why she sent it little more than an order to remain inconspicuous. She would allow it to manifest only if it remained within the confines of her tail. Specifically, it was to stay hidden in the hairy tip at all times. As compensation, she would use the abilities that it could not and activate her telescopic sight upon its request.

Overjoyed by the prospect, the fake immediately pledged its obedience. From its newfound position, it looked out the window and loosed a silent gasp when it struggled to find the Langgbjerns. They were an ever present sight in Cadria, but from where they stood, on the third story of a building in the middle of Vel’khagan, they were nowhere to be seen at all.

At the homunculus’ behest, Claire floated out the window and onto the roof as the sun started to rise. It was given the sort of view that compromised her location, but the lyrkress was unconcerned. It would only be a matter of time before Pollux exploited the hole in the contract’s defenses and looped her father in. Whether that was sooner or later, she cared little.

He was too busy to chase her down. From what she had gathered from the maids, he was swamped with a mix of administrative work and spent what little spare time he had tracking his brother—her uncle. Perhaps he would send someone if she was causing him trouble, but she was fairly confident that, so long as she didn’t butt into his business, he would not invest the resources while he was already spread so thin. At least not with his responsibilities shackling him to his throne.

“Though, that may just be wishful thinking,” she muttered.

When she broke out of her thoughts and looked down at the city, she found it just as lively as usual. The previous day’s incident had already turned into nothing but smalltalk and gossip for the morning commute. The people were far from panicking; no one seemed to suspect that the shadow of war was looming right overhead, even as the various factions rallied their troops and prepared for the upcoming confrontation.

But like Skyward Spire, it was right there on the horizon. Its embers had long been smoldering, building up their strength amidst the scorching coals. And with all the heat already gathered, the status quo was all but set to burst.

Claire stifled a yawn as she turned her eyes on the horizon. Perhaps because the sun’s first rays were so warm, or perhaps because she was as tired as Arciel had suggested, she found herself feeling the need to close her eyes and fall asleep, but the spirit in her tail shook her awake and pointed its eye towards the sea. It knew she could fly. And it wanted to experience it again, without the limitations imposed upon her by its body.

Seeing no reason to refuse, Claire fluffed up her wings and dropped down from the roof. Her hat would surely complain if she went on her morning flight without her.

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