When The Cute Godkiller Opens A Tavern [Stubbed]

Chapter 111 - Making Sense Out of Nonsense

”It is from courage they will find the strength to pierce the veil. But I’m not one to deprive those who need it.” ~Shallies Mythernal, the Godkiller

”It looks like he’s having a hard time punching through…” said Shallies.

The descending man and his companions on the ceiling were prevented by some sort of forcefield from proceeding. Yoshelle could only guess that it was because they were creatures from the upper floors. But the fact that a spear, presumably coming from him, had made its way into this floor and into her father’s stomach, meant that it was only a matter of time before the barrier disappeared.

Yoshelle couldn’t understand what was going on. She had never seen a raid be interfered with by someone so significantly. Her eyes were staring at Shallies, but she couldn’t believe the fact that the Guiding Star was in front of her all calm and collected. Her arrival had somehow eased the tension around them, bringing focus and steadiness to the seraphim.

Arun’dul was there too, running into Yoshelle’s view. He was gasping for air.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t protect those around me,” he said. “I don’t think I have any mana left.”

Yoshelle frowned at that.

“If you did’t have any mana, you would be unconscious now,” Shallies said calmly. She turned to the rest of the seraphim. “But you made a good decision. You have no idea how much more you have, so it’s better to be on the conservative side. And don’t worry, they’re all alive, but they need to get out of this place now and get some help. However, I need you and Valor’el to stay.

“Phey’lan, bring everyone, except Maxims, out of the raid. Make sure they all survive, then if you can spare the effort, help Grace and the others out.”

“I don’t think Lorf would let me use another Great Miracle this soon,” said the female seraph. “Besides, Maxim’s out of commission.”

“It’s fine, as long as he’s healed enough out of danger. I don’t need him to fight. We just need to make sure the raid doesn’t close.”

Yoshelle realized what was going on with the last part of the conversation, at least. Unlike dungeons, which had the stability of their space anchored on a Dungeon Boss, a raid would have its own anchored on the Raid Leader instead. If Guildmaster Maxims died or left, the raid would only have a week before the entirety of it collapsed and reset, trapping anyone inside as the mana within churned into chaotic turmoil. And those that would survive might or might not appear on the new raid that would form when another leader would enter.

“I can keep it open,” the Guild Princess said. She noticed only then that she was still on her knees. Forcing her legs to stand up, for some reason, she noticed they wouldn’t follow her command.

She was shaking. She realized it wasn’t because of the danger descending upon then, but because Shallies’ stare alone was frighteningly ice cold. It was a matter-of-factly normal, as if the Guiding Star couldn’t be bothered by what was happening.

Yoshelle forced herself to speak up.

“As the heir to the Gaiamaxims Guild, I have the authority to shoulder the burden as the raid’s anchor. My father needs immediate medical care.”

Now that she was the only person within the guild capable of staying conscious, she wanted to see it through. Yoshelle had an inkling of what it might be, that thing that kept Shallies calm and collected, but rather than ask, she wanted to see it for her own eyes instead. She didn’t want to go.

Some of that lingering determination seemed to have moved something in Shallies, as she sighed and turned to Phey’lan once more.

“Fine, get Maxims out. Yoshelle will stay. Just send a prayer to Lorf. I’m sure he won’t ignore you.”

Yoshelle felt a hand land on her shoulder. Valor’el. His face was rid of all the uncertainty and confusion he had when the skies tore open. Now, he was back to his usual protective self.

“Don’t stray away from me,” he began. “From this point on, even I won’t be able to keep up.”

She could only give a nod, not even looking at him.

Phey’lan’s voice radiated with authority as she recited a prayer. Mana, Stellar mana, Yoshelle realized, filled the room. It was followed by an enveloping authority. One made of dazzling light. The Guild Princess flinched, before Valor’el provided her with shade made out of mana.

“Another?” said an unfamiliar voice. Yoshelle didn’t even have to think hard to know that it was a god. And if what Shallies had said during the conversation earlier was true, then this would be Lorf, the God of Light.

“I’m sorry, gracious Lorf, this is really an emergency. Someone tampered with the raid I’m currently participating in, so a divine intervention shouldn’t be off the table at that point, right?”

“Phey’lan, you know it won’t do us both any good if I grant you another Great Miracle this early, right?” the god asked rhetorically. “You’ve barely recovered! Sure, I’ve always suggested that you become my first First Avanity, but that doesn’t make you—”

“Lorf.”

It was only one word. It was only a name. Yoshelle’s heart skipped a beat as Shallies called out to the God of Light so nonchalantly. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say, then, that to interrupt such a Divine Entity would be extremely rude. And it wouldn’t be past them to punish such a behavior.

But the god stayed silent. No smite, no words of punishment. And with each passing second, Yoshelle’s mind raced faster and faster.

“Shallies,” Lorf finally said. His voice was different, almost tame and careful, unlike the person he was addressing. “I will require you to provide Phey’lan your Stellar mana, if we are to do this. You’re pushing her way beyond her limits here.”

The Guiding Star sighed. “Fine, but make it quick. Phey’lan, take a deep breath.”

The seraph did as told, then nodded. “I’m ready.”

Once more, Yoshelle couldn’t believe her eyes. The amount of Stellar mana channeling over to Phey’lan was absurd. The two weren’t even in physical contact. Shallies was standing in the middle of the room, clearly positioning herself in between the descending man and the rest of the raid group. If another spear came flying in, she would be the only prime target. But for some reason, the Guild Princess couldn’t see that happening.

“Shallies,” Lorf began. “I would like to take a visit once all this is over.”

That made the Guiding Star sigh once more. “As long as you don’t tell the others.”

“Good. Phey’lan, recite your prayer. I will double the amount of time until you can use your miracles and Great Miracles this time. And not even Shallies can force me to shorten that.”

“Understood,” said the seraph as she began to recite her prayer, specifying the people she would teleport out of the raid.

Yoshelle felt the light envelop them once more, and then, in a simple flash, they were gone.

“What about you, Shallies?” Lorf asked, his voice probing through the air. “Do you need help?”

“No,” said the Guiding Star simply. “You can go. Let me know when you’re coming.”

The god’s sigh hung so heavy in the air, it was as if gravity multiplied as it did so. Yoshelle could see Shallies was completely unbothered, while herself felt like her lungs were getting crushed. And despite it all, she could tell that Lorf wasn’t even angry.

“Fine. I’ll keep an eye on Phey’lan instead.”

This time, Shallies gave a nod. “Thanks.”

Yoshelle breathed out then gasped for air. She was sweating and shaking all over. Turning to the side, Valor’el was under the same condition. And once again, it made her wonder how Shallies was able to stand so calmly in the presence of a god and a mysterious enemy with his own army. In fact, an obvious answer was at the back of her mind, but it didn’t seem to make any sense.

None of these were making any sense in the first place…

“It’s not your fault, Yoshelle,” Shallies said, as if to address the Guild Princess’s concerns. “Sooner or later, you would’ve gathered enough courage to ask me properly. It’s a little too late now, but until then, your mind was supposed to create every convenient excuse to put your thoughts away from that one conclusion. That’s how one of my special veils works.”

Yoshelle frowned at that. Again, she felt something tug from the back of her thoughts. An obvious thing, something she had gotten multiple confirmations already. But she was also stopping herself, believing that it would be revealed to her now anyway. Just like before, she dared not ask.

Instead, the Guild Princess looked up. The descending man had torn apart the barrier separating the floors. His mana ran through the entire arena of the now empty Boss Lair. Proclaiming his presence had brought upon a profound stress onto the room, as if the cloudy walls were about to lose their form and simply disperse. Some churned, some squelched, some expanded, unable to ascertain which state they should remain in when nearing such a significant existence.

Yoshelle felt the air getting sucked out of her lungs, but Valor’el was quick to help. She was able to breathe, at the very least. Her limbs were like mush, and she could only rely on the seraph to help her face the enemy. Both of them were sitting on the ground, unable to move.

“You had the chance to escape,” said the man. His army hovered above him, prepared to act at an instant’s signal. “And yet you three chose to remain. What hope do you have against me?”

Yoshelle had no way to respond to that, and neither did Valor’el. And when Shallies didn’t speak, the Guild Princess felt her hope start to crumble. Only the fact that the Guiding Star remained standing had kept her still believing.

“If you wish to die for what you believe in, then I shall gladly oblige,” continued the man. “But before that, there will be torture and interrogation. Time is of the essence, and I must understand it.”

Without waiting for a reply, a forcefield made of mana surrounded Yoshelle and Valor’el. The two tried to break it, but to no avail.

Another appeared around Shallies, who still didn’t seem bothered.

“Compliant,” commented the man. “Good. I prefer not to exert myself from this tedious task. Simply give me my answers, and I promise you a quick death—”

“Daryl’kan,” Shallies said, her voice shattering both forcefields. “Which god do you serve right now?”

The nephilim, Daryl’kan, was stunned in disbelief. It was momentary, but Yoshelle saw him falter, hands half-raising as an act of self-defense. He was quick to hide it, clenching his fists.

“To think I’m to meet a fellow Favored One this early. That answers some of my questions, then. Given this situation, I shall allow you to flee. I have an army, you do not. You can’t afford to take losses—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Shallie said simply. “I can take you all. Just tell me who it is you serve, and then I can put you back in your grave. Properly this time.”

Daryl’kan paused. Yoshelle could imagine him processing those words underneath his lightning veil. The smirk he gave in the end didn’t have a lot of confidence. Instead, he was carrying a lot of determination.

“You can’t stop me, you fool!” he declared. “This cursed storm won’t hinder my divine purpose! Nor will you!”

He gave the signal, and suddenly, thousands of projectiles, and all manner of spells that Yoshelle could barely recognize, rained down upon them. It was like witnessing another storm forming within the storm. Valor’el created a barrier, but even she could tell that it wouldn’t last.

At least we’ll die quickly…

Shallies made a step. “If it’s torture you want, Daryl’kan, then I’m happy to oblige.”

Yoshelle felt Valor’el’s hand tightened around her shoulder.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered. “And try not to lose your mind. Use whatever method you think is necessary. Just make sure you stay sane.”

“What?”

Yoshelle felt something release. A veil. No, multiple veils. Thoughts came rushing into her head. It was so obvious. She saw Shallies turn to her and smile.

“Stellar Engage.”