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Published at 19th of April 2023 06:30:43 AM


Chapter 20

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Marina Lainsfont swept two fireball clad hands across the surface of her drenched alchemist's uniform. The result was nothing short of grim. Not only were the clothes not fully dried, but they were also now wrinkled beyond repair. Steam rose from her apron and her leggings as she danced the dangerous tightrope that was evaporating the water without scorching her clothes.

At the moment, she was failing.

“I can't believe you tossed me into the water,” she grumbled, her expression an ardent frown as she tossed away all aspects of her plain smile. “That was utterly uncalled for. What if I'd drowned? The heroic choice would have been to place yourself in front of me, shielding my defenceless figure from the stone golem's charge.”

Coppelia looked at me.

“Exactly! Why didn't you place yourself in harm's way to defend her defenceless figure?”

I placed my hand on my chest, outraged at the suggestion that I would be expected to receive harm in anyone's place. People gave their lives for me. Not the other way around.

“E-Excuse me! I didn't instruct you to toss her into the water! There were so many other places you could have thrown her! Against the hard stone floor, against the hard stone wall, or even against the hard stone ceiling—”

“Why throw me anywhere!” cut in Marina, patting out a fire that'd broken out on her sleeve. “What if I'd hit my head against anything?! I could have lost my memories!”

“A result that was sadly avoided. But now you're free to explain yourself. What is the meaning of this? You're not merely an alchemist. You're a mage.”

“Indeed. And you're not merely some bored nobleman's daughter playing at adventuring. A mistake I realised far too late. And now I must suffer the inglorious experience of haggling with another troll caravan. Do you have any idea how many exceptionally rare reagents it takes to summon, no, to craft a stone golem larger than a child's plaything?”

I raised my sword towards the alchemist … the mage.

That she mistakenly believed me to be some bored daughter of nobility irked me, but I could put that matter to one side. There would be time to scold her while she was crafting soap bars for me.

“A trap, then. To what end?”

“Your end, probably,” said Coppelia, beaming sweetly as her eyes never strayed from the woman's hands. “Marina Lainsfont. You told a terrible lie when you said that you didn't know any mage powerful enough to cause the Withering. You should be proud of your work. Casting a blight is one thing, but spreading … even maintaining it is quite another. It's a beautiful work of spellcraft, utilising elements from necromancy, alteration and even curation. A truly blasphemous spell by every definition.”

Marina tilted her head slightly, pausing in her attempt to dry out the soles of her shoes.

“Why, to have my work appreciated is a joy. Recognition is, after all, the rarest currency among mages.” She returned Coppelia's smile. “... And so, what gave it away?”

“The ingredients in your store. Widow's bane. Bloodshade root. Wyvern ivory. Too rare and exotic for the simple needs of a dull human town.”

Marina shrugged.

“I wouldn't be so sure. The farmers can be quite discerning. They only accept blister balms made with the finest ingredients.”

“Mmh. The finest ingredients that are more than alchemical. They're conducive to magic. Every ingredient in your store is used not for alchemy, but for a spell ritual, specifically taken from a forbidden tome with instructions on how to create a blight to ceaselessly sap the life out of its victims until the spell caster themselves relinquishes the magic. There is no cure or counterspell.”

Coppelia leaned forwards, peeking left and right as though the mage was hiding something behind her back.

“And you've altered it to target flora … I wonder why?”

“It was more economical,” replied Marina, finally finishing with her shoes. “The original spell, while impressive technically, is simply too limited in scope. There are far easier ways to deprive someone of their life. Why, as crass as it is, a simple knife to the heart will achieve that.”

Coppelia nodded fervently at that.

“Hard to appreciate a good plague when people keep killing each other with sticks and stones, eh?”

“Precisely. No, if I wished for this to work, then I needed a way to cause devastation on a truly efficient scale. To that end, I utilised the original spell as my base matrix, then modified it with the core components from Talbot's Theorem of Function, 2nd edition to exclusively target flora … not that the has-been did all the work, of course. It required clever reinterpretation on my end. Still, as even common grass is famously resistant to magic induced ailments, I was further required to … a-are you yawning?”

I opened wide in an unconstrained yawn, making the smallest effort to hide my mouth with my hand.

“No, please, don't let me disturb you. Please finish your explanation. We all only have one chance to reveal the hard work that went into our schemes, after all.”

The young woman hesitated, the fire in her hands diminishing ever so slightly.

“Yes, uh … right, what was I saying? … The flora. To increase the virulence of the spell, and, well, this is quite ingenious … it's, um, it's not to overcome the natural resistances inherent in plant life, but to … but to transpose them …”

I yawned again.

“Added to the .. to the modified spell matrix is … well, it's the beginnings of a [Minor Invigoration] spell ... which … which functions almost uniquely among curative magic … You see, instead of simply repairing and why is this so tiring to you?!”

Marina stamped her foot down, the flames bursting in her hands as she threatened a fiery inferno against me.

“I just admitted to luring you here with the express purpose of your demise! The clumsy alchemist you knew is revealed to be a powerful mage! The stone golem you fought was my creation! Even the Withering is a product of my design! Why are you not more … alarmed?!”

I rolled my eyes.

A saint or a psychopath. Yet again, I was correct. I wonder if always being right will ever not be this tiring?

“Oh, please, I survived my first assassination attempt when I was 2 months old. I'm more surprised when a baked cherry clafoutis isn't overly garnished than I am when someone I just met is attempting to murder me.”

The clockwork doll beside me spun around, blinking at me with shocked eyes.

“Eh?! Even me?!”

“Coppelia, you are an enigma whose name and occupation is the only thing that I know about you. If I wake up and find you perched over me with a fruit knife in your hands, I would ask you to bring me my wardrobe first. I'm not dying in my pink nightgown.”

“Got it. I'll pick out a nice dress for you first. Something black, right?”

I frowned. If this particular girl ever wished to truly alarm me, then she'd need to serve as my attendant for two days without giving me a reason to fire her.

Honestly, who thought black was an appropriate colour to die in? I wasn't already at my funeral, was I?

“I offered to make you my attendant. Not my handmaid. If you wish to be responsible for my attire, then you must first demonstrate apt knowledge of seasonal and vogue trends … so no, black would not be suitable for my blood stained body.”

Before us, the mage increased the ferocity of her flames. They grew to the size of small cannonballs.

Faced with magical fire deadly enough to singe the very air around it, I couldn't help but notice that the basin of water looked somewhat more appealing now.

I still wouldn't touch it, of course. The water slimes residing there were clearly extra slimy. Just look at the mage. All that arcane power and dramatic spotlight. And yet the fact was that she looked like she'd just had a fight with a laundry pile and lost.

“It would have been better had the two of you remained oblivious,” said Marina, holding her chin high even as the dignity escaped her via her smoking, wrinkled clothes. “I trust you understand that I cannot allow you to leave?”

Coppelia pointed behind us.

“Actually, the exit is that way. This means you're the one not allowed to leave. You know why? Because you're overdue on your return date. One forbidden spell tome, please. I'm here to collect.”

Marina smiled.

“Then by all means—collect.”

She cast out her arms as the fireballs she held expanded.

Knowing what was to come, I drew Starlight Grace towards her and considered my options.

This was no thoughtless monster which now threatened to plant me into an urn. It was a mage. One who was highly proficient at magic, if she alone was the cause of the Withering blighting our fields.

She was strong. Very much so. Even an amateur like me could see that. And yet by Coppelia's account, the Withering would only cease once the mage responsible decided it would.

If that's the case … then some crafty negotiating was necessary.

Some expertly threaded persuasion was necessary to convince Marina to cease whatever nefarious plot she was committing. And that meant utilising the oldest art of diplomacy. Against a vastly superior opponent, there was only one way to achieve victory through words alone.

I turned to Coppelia.

“I'm going to flee, then return once I've assembled enough goons to stand menacingly behind me while I offer ultimatums. In the meantime, I require you to heroically sacrifice yourself for me. Understood?”

Here it was!

The most historically accurate technique to winning any argument!

Running away and coming back once overwhelmingly unfair odds are stacked against the opponent!

Obviously, as someone who was not only untrained in fighting mages, but also untrained in fighting at all, my only action at this stage would be to escape while allowing my sole companion the chance to earn herself a footnote in history as the loyal vassal who spent her life ensuring mine would continue.

Coppelia, valiant attendant that she was, merely giggled as she came to terms with the end of her tenure on this world.

“I have a better idea.”

“What is it?”

She smiled.

“It's called … my turn.”

Without waiting for me to look quizzical, Coppelia clapped her hands together.

The moment that sound was heard, a flash of sheer, overwhelming darkness filled the chamber, drowning out both the light of my sword and the flames of the mage ready to strike at us. It was the opposite of a flash of lightning. A momentary blink where even the most radiant magic was extinguished.

And from Coppelia's hands—came a weapon.

As she drew her palms apart, the clear silhouette of a dark shaft began to manifest, laced in shadow and malice. It continued on and on, the shaft growing even as Coppelia stretched out her arms to the fullest.

And then the rest of it appeared.

A massive, curved blade protruded from the top of the weapon, so wide that it almost matched the length of the shaft it was attached to. Yet no common steel adorned that edge. It was the colour of pure moonlight, and shone through the gathering shadow like a lighthouse piercing the mists.

It was a scythe.

My jaw dropped open. And yet I knew there was room for it to drop even further still.

“I don't think so!” called out Marina, her face visibly shocked even as she launched two door sized fireballs towards us.

The scythe dropped from between Coppelia's palms the moment it was fully formed, as though suddenly beholden to gravity. The clockwork doll effortlessly caught it with one hand, then turned to face the incoming fireballs.

In the blink of an eye, she pushed off from the ground, her scythe gleaming as she met the magical flame with a guillotining sweep. The flames dispersed in different directions, each half violently colliding with a different section of the wall and bursting where it met a deposit of arcana crystals.

And Coppelia—simply kept going.

Twisting herself fully in the air, she allowed the scythe to rotate back into position past her shoulder, its moonlit blade glistening with embers as its deadly edge approached the wide-eyed mage. Her golden, fluffy hair trailed behind her as she closed the distance in the blink of an eye.

“[Molten Barrier]!”

The scythe struck as a shield of flickering lava enveloped Marina. Radiant sparks flew out as the huge blade lodged itself into the desperately conjured barrier.

And still, Coppelia kept going.

“Excuse me, madame!” she yelled, zany smile active and feet in the air as her momentum carried her onwards. “I'm here regarding penalties incurred over unreturned books!”

A crack appeared where Coppelia dug her scythe into the barrier. The flames lashed around her, yet even so, it was as though they were nothing more than puffs of warm air to the clockwork doll.

“Fines are accrued at the following rates! 35087 gold crowns past the due date! 15476 gold crowns per day following this date! Monetary penalties accrue up to a maximum of 35 days!”

The barrier cracked more. A deep fissure appeared where even without the blade slamming down against it, a gap was certain to be revealed.

“Failure to pay the fine will result in the book being treated as lost or damaged! The penalty for which is—”

“[Fiery Absolution],” came Marina's voice on the other side of the barrier.

The next moment, I witnessed her barrier shatter.

As though made from the most fragile glass pane, the globe of flame the mage enveloped herself in broke into hundreds … thousands of flaming shards.

But instead of falling, they flew—directly at the girl whose blade was now an inch from her face.

Coppelia was blown backwards as a cascade of fiery shards drove into her like a molten wave. She smashed against the hard stone wall, disappearing into a cloud of broken rock and dust.

For a moment, all that could be heard was the rolling of broken stone.

And then, a faint whisper.

“... The truth of the stars, revealed as dew beneath the first leaf. Luna Form, 2nd Stance. [Moonlit Flutter].”

“What?!”

Before Marina could even take stock of the cloud of debris, she was forced to take a step back as Coppelia … flashed into existence in front of her.

Somehow, the smile she wore seemed even bigger than her swinging scythe.





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