Chapter 12 - The ?????
*The Occult Weavers have disbanded. They were absorbed into the Academy of Magic. The Archmage Tyrant has promised that the new members will be strictly surpervised and monitored. To assuage the justified fears across both worlds, he has also shared his research notes on hexes. Titled: 'Nature of Hexes and their countermeasures.'
- Holy shit, if these notes are true, then half of the Witch Tyrant's hexes have been fake! Maybe more! @realmrikky (unverified)
-> FallenAngel is NOT going to be happy about this. Turns out she was a paper tiger all along! @[Deleted]
-> Uh... you there commenter? @realmrikky (unverified)
Ryan stared at the deathly pale [Mage]. He hadn’t been completely sure it was her, but it was pretty obvious someone was fucking with him. He should have figured it out from the very start. Someone like Gamielle wouldn’t miscalculate Zedart’s strength. In hindsight, that should have been the first red flag.
He flopped back, no longer holding his stump, just letting it bleed out.
“Fuck you, Gamielle, or whoever you are. If you’re going to kill me, kill me already. I’m done playing your game.”
He wished he weren’t so satisfied right now. A part of him felt vindicated that he’d beaten Zedart. Tricks or not. He’d won.
Gamielle tutted. “And here I had a whole ‘nother fight for you. I was going to do a big slow clap reveal too.”
“I said I’m done. Hurry up already.”
“Oh, fine.”
Instead of dying, two things flew at him. A sparkling red vial landed on his chest, and a severed hand landed on his face. His severed hand. He spluttered in surprise and grabbed it with his other hand.
He sat up and stared dumbly at the vial. An “H” potion, as in a high-grade potion. A million dollar potion in his lap.
“Well? Hurry up. Take too long, and it’s going to take a few drops of a regeneration potion, and even I don’t want to waste those.”
“Why even do all this?”
“Your hand obviously, Manager’s blasted asshole, you haven’t lost that much blood.”
Ryan blinked. Whoever this was, she was still Gamielle. Then he waved his stump at her. Trying to see if he could make his blood spurt into her face. The crimson liquid dripped down an invisible barrier, as Gamielle shook her head in disappointment that he had even tried it.
He just made it into a signalling motion with his stump.
“No, I mean why do all this?” Ryan asked again.
“To save your hand,” Gamielle responded. Once again, ignoring his actual question. “A hero that fought in vengeance for his damsel should be scarred not marred.”
“I’m not touching shit till you tell me what the hell you want from me.”
Gamielle looked at Ryan with a raised eyebrow. “Are you threatening me with the state of your own hand?”
Ryan opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he conceded, not because she had a good point, but because his arm was screaming at him.
He put his stump and hand together and held them in place with his legs. Uncorking the bottle with his mouth, he started pouring the sparkling liquid. Instead of pouring out in an uneven mess, the liquid floated neatly into the slits. Guided by Gamielle’s telekinesis.
“A team without telekinesis often wastes significant amounts of potions,” Gamielle said wistfully. “The wasted potions are probably three times the amount actually used.”
“Yeah, everyone knows that.” He didn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“You know, most people are respectful to people that could crush them like an insect, especially one that’s so beautiful.” Her hair spun as she shook her head. It might have been a beautiful sight, if only her guts weren’t still on display.
Ryan almost said something sarcastic but stopped himself when he felt the wondrous sensation of the potion. It didn’t burn or itch. It felt like a warm, gentle massage throughout the severed section.
The remaining drops of the potion floated back into the bottle, and it corked itself.
[Instant Dodge]
He snatched at the potion as it flew away quicker, just out of reach.
“Hey! Who tries to steal from their savior?” Gamielle scolded.
He just shrugged. “Eh, I had to try.” He rolled his shoulders and stared at Gamielle. Feeling a lot better than he had. “So, miss dragonslayer, mind telling me who you are? And how the hell you were walking around a leveled zone?”
Gamielle wrinkled her nose. “Well, fine.”
She clicked her fingers, and her body shimmered, it slimmed down from her comical proportions. He’d connected the dots—illusion magic, that was what his fake system screens had been. But illusion magic was supposed to have limits, it couldn’t just punch through a levelled zone like she had. Something else had to be going on.
Her ears elongated, her features becoming just slighty more angular. Not a full elf but a half-elf. Something about her face was incredibly familiar as Ryan blinked, then he understood completely.
She didn’t care about revenge from Zedart’s parents. A mention of a rich mother. Half elf…
Gamielle clasped her hands behind her back. She paced as she talked to the air. “Originally, this scenario was supposed to end with my death. Leaving you and Zedart with something to bond over. Unfortunately, plans changed.”
She reached out towards Ryan as his leather jacket opened up by itself and a wrinkled letter floated towards her. He froze in horror as he realized this whole thing was his fault.
The letter unfurled itself, and Gamielle read it out loud.
“Mezhar is not the final piece. Nasty.”
Then the letter caught on fire.
| Realm Quest, Deliver the Manager’s letter, failed!
|