另类小说人亚洲小说

“Hiyah!” Tarantula cried, “Flurry of Blows!”

“Gyaa!” I cried, or something similar.

Her spear-work wasn’t any BETTER, but it was FAST. It was like there were blur-spears. They were all attacking me from her direction, but it was impossible to catch them all on my shield.

[You have suffered three blows for eight damage each; after armor, you have received six damage. 18/40 health remain.]

“Okay, that’s half.” I said. “HALF!”

She paused her spear with the tip just barely touching my shield. “You’re so SLOW. How have Assassins and Executioners not depopulated the world yet?”

I put my shield away; it needed repairs about as badly as I did. I plopped down to forest floor, pulling my canteen off my belt. Passing just close enough, she swiped the canteen out of my hand with Remote Pickpocket.

She took a gulp, and then tossed it back to me. “Thanks.”

.....

“You ARE fighting more like a champion-level adventurer.” I said.

“Why doesn’t everyone take this class? It is so AWESOME.” She said.

“Assassin is about sneaking up on people and finishing them before they can respond.” I said. “Equal level and development points in a Warrior type class will still out-fight you if you make a frontal assault.”

“You can’t.” she said.

“You’ve still got a number of years of experience more than I do.” I said.

“And a deep reserve of development points yet to go. Imagine how much more powerful I’ll be next time we spar.”

“I’d rather not.” I said, putting my canteen back onto my hip.

“Shadow Step! Hip Throw!” she said, as I stood. I had expected something like this, and broadened my stance.

“You ass.” She said, poking me with a dagger while backing off.

“I think slamming me headfirst into the ground is a once-a-day thing.”

“It’s still fun to do.” She smirked at me. “Want to race back to town?”

“I’ll walk, you combine running, Sprint, and Shadow Step if you want.”

She scoffed at me. “Fine. But... Aura of Fear!”

“I’ve Seen This Before.” I said, waving my hand as though slowly deflecting her ability.

“I still don’t see how you do that. It shouldn’t work that way.”

“And yet it does.” I said.

“Don’t try pulling the wise teacher routine on me.” She said. “I know where your knowledge ends.”

I shrugged. “No experience as an assassin, I’ll admit it.”

The closest I’d come was the quest to defeat Rakkal, which had ended in miserable failure.

On the way back to the inn, we discussed Blood Magic, and the difference of approaches between the magical types.

And NO, so far as I know, song magic isn’t good for handling volatile and unstable magics like Blood Magic. That said, I didn’t want to let Madonna pick a class for her.

“How have you SURVIVED this long without formal magical training?” I asked.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I have basic caster classes, and training... some training, at least.”

“The blood of Costanza runs in my veins.”

That was someone I’d heard of. “Constanza the Cape Hero, Witch of Darkness, of the blood of Castile.”

“Summoned to stop the demon lord Mazikuush, along with Marcus the Bow and Gallo the Candle. Someone knows his history.”

“The things she DID with magic... Please tell me you’re not going to try that without an insulator.”

“Ha! I don’t even know what that is, does my bloodletting kit count?”

“Yes, yes I imagine that would do quite well.”

In the end, she went with Blood Witch, the Occultist class. From someone who ended up in two brawls a week with one, DO NOT let them finish an Incantation. Blood Magic is just nasty, and have a healing potion handy if it’s in the mix.

On the plus side, she was no longer trying to KILL me. And I gained Combat XP just for losing against her.

Downside? My weekly regimens ground to a halt, consumed by the needs of healing all manner of injuries, and draining the environment of every little iota of mana to replenish my exhausted reserves.

But back to the positive, she’d learned not to fight me near the river, or other areas with ready water supply.

And she did have new tricks every single time I’d fought her. She delighted in expanding her arsenal. Oh, and whichever of the Blade Heroes or Heroines invented Toxin Improvement? Be glad you are long dead; I actually want to kill you.

Because you.

Are.

Evil.

Ahem, anyway, there were only two of those clashes before the Week of Thawing.

New Festival, new dance, new costumes for the same, and an invite to the Palacio, formal dance but not masked. My devastation of the fish population at that event has been greatly exaggerated.

And then, we were counting weeks until the storm season ended. The crew began conducting drills, and...

Well, I didn’t have any critical experiments going on with the rat population, which was good. We trimmed their numbers back considerably. It’s amazing how rapidly a rat population can grow in just three months.

With the exception of Tarantula, the rest of us slaughtered rats with wild abandon, and provided the corpses to the crew to fish with. A lot of those corpses went to waste, and the remaining ten or so percent of the rats were healthy, or at least free from Blood Fever.

The captain, Gamilla, and I went over the route between Neo Esteban and Boadicea’s Girdle. Much as I didn’t want to, we would spend part of that journey in waters bordering those of the Wyverns. To me, that was the risky part of the journey.

To the crew, the risky part was trading with the Makura. I mean, they certainly discussed killing me my last two visits, but as long as we brought a hold full of livestock with us, that didn’t seem to be very likely.

On paper, Gamilla assured me the plan was quite profitable.

I even had high hopes of making perhaps half that much. Not because Gamilla didn’t know her business; never let me imply otherwise. But rather, because I hadn’t learned to trust the Outrage to hold together.

I had suspicions that the crew might just sail off with her, “forgetting” to pick us up first.

In my defense, I’d seen them at sloth and play for months. It wasn’t until mid-March that I saw them working together as one crew.

“So, the Outrage sails soon?” Tarantula asked.

“A few more weeks.” Madonna said.

“So exciting.” Kismet said. “Scary, but exciting.”

“I will not be sailing with you. There are assholes needing my sword run through them. I must return to Neonen.”

“Without properly saying thank you? You’ve got the abilities to back your fearsome reputation, now.” Madonna said.

“You told her?” Tarantula asked.

“Oh please,” Madonna said, “My husband guards the secrets of others with more tenacity than he guards his own. I just noted that stories of shattered trees began...”

“Those stories are greatly exaggerated.” Tarantula said.

“There was that Blood Scythe incident.” I said.

“The exception that proves the rule.” Tarantula said.

Madonna cleared her throat. “Shattered trees and such only began near Thawing. That’s three months, or twelve attempts upon my husband’s life. It’s not as great a secret as you seem to think.”

“And you, Kismet?” she asked.

“I’ll miss you, and remember...” she made a short series of movements with her arms.

“Wrist Snap.” Tarantula said. “I know just who to use it on.” The two of them hugged. “Oh, but there are a few weeks left before we reach the official end of storms, adopted sister.”

“You have to write.” Kismet insisted.

“Of course.” Tarantula said. “I look forward to addressing those letters to the Tidelands, rather than Neo Esteban.

Kismet looked around. “It’s been fun, but yeah, I’m ready to get headed to home.”

Madonna cleared her throat.

“I haven’t forgotten your quests, wife. There is a piece of your panoply in Dauria.”

She nodded. “And more in the Isles yet to retrieve. Am I to understand that we’re making a concerted effort to gather the pieces?”

I nodded. “We have much to do, and not much time at all to accomplish it. This means we cannot keep thrashing around blindly. Now is the time to focus, and after I meet Dauria, we have time to meet with each of the governments.”

“And slay ourselves a pirate admiral.” Madonna said.

I raised a hand. “There’s no proof that we actually need to do that.”

.....

“Rhishi, he IS a pirate.” Kismet said.

“And it’s been so long since we actually killed anyone of significance.” Madonna said.

“And our letters of marque permit us to loot known pirate vessels.” Gamilla chimed in.

Tarantula burst out laughing. “Aha, so THAT is how you get into so many amusing stories! Now, I can leave happy. I’ve uncovered your last secret.”

Not all truths need to be spoken.

Especially not to assassins who are about to wave goodbye without killing you. Maybe.