A second axe came flying at Fizzy’s face before Kilroy’s body had hit the ground. She barely avoided it thanks to the split-second warning of her predictive Champion of Chaos Skill. The weapon slammed into the half-collapsed building behind her hard enough to embed itself into the stonework. The golem’s eyes snapped back towards the hole in the outer wall, but were unable to pierce the night’s darkness. Another two spinning axes flew at her moments later. She dodged the first, but had to clumsily block the second with her oversized wrench. The attack had so much force that it made a shuddering impact that also left a huge dent in the enchanted tool.

“Parallel One!”

Fizzy focused on defense while Plus prepared a Spell. It was a Holy Light, but not aimed at herself. The flash of divine radiance illuminated the night outside, allowing the golem a brief glimpse at a tall, humanoid figure holding yet another axe above their head. Sure enough, the blade came streaking towards her moments later, closely followed by yet another. Now that she had a little more warning, Fizzy was able to bat away the first projectile with a well-timed swing while Plus pushed the other away with Magnetize. Or at least she tried to, but the Skill failed to affect the weapon as much as the alter ego had hoped. The axe lost some speed yet remained on target and hit the golem in her good shoulder, though it did so with the handle and bounced off harmlessly.

Now that she had a second to move her legs, Fizzy used Armored Charge to dash headlong through the hole in the outer wall. Sure enough, two more blasted axes came flying at her head. One bunted off like before, but the other landed blade first right in her eye socket. Though that part of her was, of course, made out of mithril, it was delicate and thin. The weapon thus sank into her face, dealing the most damage she’d received tonight. But, there was no pain, and the golem still had another eye to see with, so it did nothing to slow her as she closed in on her enemy. She was just about to ram into the shrouded figure’s lower body and snap his legs in half when the stranger simply hopped over her with a front flip. Fizzy’s legs skid to a halt, digging a small trench out of the gravelly dirt as she turned around, weapon raised.

It was then that the axe lodged in the Paladin’s face vanished. It reappeared in her opponent’s raised hand, its twin counterpart following suit immediately afterward. There was a brief lull in the sudden confrontation as the hobgoblin before her calmly strode to his side, his form barely visible against the torchlight from the fortress. At a glance he was clearly a cut above the other greenskins Fizzy had crushed earlier, his physique much more developed. His olive green skin bore many markings. Not scars - though he did have some of those - but tattoos of tribal design. Those could be seen clearly since he wore no armor, just light gear consisting of a harness, hand wraps, a satchel at his waist, and a large purple scarf around his neck and torso. The hob paced slowly and deliberately as he sized up Fizzy in turn, the sneer on his face slowly turning to a cocky, pointy-toothed smirk.

The golem was wary of charging at him now. By the look of those inked arms and the trinkets dangling from his belt, this guy was also a Shaman. That meant he could very easily launch blasts of ice at her, much like the one before. His magic would undoubtedly be stronger, and Fizzy’s frame was nowhere near hot enough to thaw her out instantly at this point. And indeed, much as she suspected, the hob called the elements to his aid. He clanged his weapons together, causing both of their edges to glow with power. However, it wasn’t the cold light of ice, but the burning radiance of heat. He threw the enhanced weapons with two lightning-quick motions while hopping backwards. Fizzy saw these coming even without her predictive Skill and charged right into them, wrench held in front. She deflected neither, as their trajectory curved downward mid-flight. One slammed into her belly while the other caught her in the leg, leaving noticeable dents but otherwise failing to stop her.

It didn’t seem as though the hob was expecting to stagger her. Like before, he deftly hopped over her smaller frame as she dashed through his personal space. This time he managed to slash at her back as she passed under. It wasn’t a free hit, as the golem swung her own weapon blindly upward and caught him in the shoulder. It was only a glancing blow that would barely even cause a bruise on its own. What hurt a lot more was the electrical charge that came out of her backpack, travelled over her metallic frame, coursed through her wrench, and seared into the greenskin’s flesh, all within the tiniest fraction of a second. The hob groaned as he landed on his feet and deftly hopped away from Fizzy’s follow-up swipe.

“Holy Light!”

Meanwhile Plus did her job and restored the golem’s frame to full HP, restoring both her cleaved face and lower body. The construct was thus able to turn around and continue chasing after her imminent victim with reckless abandon, swinging her wrench with as much strength as she could muster. To his credit, the Scalper remained cool and kept nimbly evading every hit while constantly back-stepping. Fizzy was a formidable fighter, boasting immense durability and strength on top of her monstrous and divine magics. However, her actual fighting style was… unrefined. Simple. Predictable. It was easy for an experienced opponent to exploit her lack of technique and avoid her straightforward attacks. So far she’d been able to overwhelm such enemies with brute force and unceasing aggression, and she saw no reason to believe this random savage in the middle of nowhere would be any different. Admittedly it was strange that a supposedly primitive hobgoblin was on the same level of martial ability as the Empire’s elite troops, but bizarrely powerful monsters didn’t exactly surprise Fizzy. Very little did, at this point.

After several missed swings, however, the Scalper started striking back. Not at the golem herself, but at her weapon. It took Fizzy a few seconds to notice that he wasn’t parrying or deflecting her attacks, but literally attempting to break her wrench. It was working, too. His axes were clearly excellent magic items, and the added magical heat allowed them to rapidly bend and deform the comically oversized tool. This was an unusual strategy, but yet again, nothing the golem hadn’t seen before. The big red lump of steel was a novelty, not an implement of war. This Scalper wasn’t the first to notice he could destroy it fairly easily and thus severely limit the tiny construct’s reach, and he would not be the last. What he was yet to discover was that Fizzy had a countermeasure.

“Holy Light!”

Plus invoked another flash of restorative radiance, this time channeling it into the mangled wrench through the Metallopathy ability. The damaged tool instantly snapped to its original shape and form with a crisp ringing noise mid-swing. Seeing this, the Scalper took three quick leaps backwards, putting him a good forty meters away from the Paladin in the blink of an eye.

“Mm! Now dis be new!” he spoke, just loud enough for Fizzy to hear. “Nevah seen voodoo like dat before.”

The voice was low and deep and the words heavily accented, but his meaning was clear enough. Or at least it would be, had the golem bothered to listen. One of the lessons Boxxy had etched into her soul was that there was no room for discourse in a fight between monsters. It was a waste of breath for the speaker, and a gap in concentration for the listener. The Scalper should know this as well, being a monster himself, and was likely trying to throw off the golem’s focus. Fizzy wasn’t even attempting to discern his motives as she gave chase, but her partner had other ideas.

“What’s a voodoo?” Plus yelled back.

“It speaks, too!”

The Scalper cracked a smile as he pulled back in response to Fizzy’s advance, easily keeping the distance between them more or less the same. He also occasionally threw an axe at her, which was subsequently dodged or blocked before it materialized back in his hand moments later.

“And here I be thinkin’ you just some dumb lump de small ones be throwin’ at me.”

“Watch it, buster! I’ll have you know, this here is the best Artificer in Azurvale!”

“Bah! Elves! Wat do dey know?!” his jovial mood suddenly soured. “Buncha twigs dat fall ovah in a strong breeze!”

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Plus admitted. “But hey, all you meatbags are pretty pathetic compared to Fizzy here. No offense.”

“Is whatever. But if de elves send you, den dat makes dis simple!”

The Scalper abruptly stopped back-hopping and sprang forward instead. He spun around twice on his heel, both fiery axes held outwards. This motion was accompanied by an inaudible chant that sent a literal tornado of flames forward, right at Fizzy. Naturally, the golem charged right through it. Her salamander-hide gear further fortified her formidable frame against heat, so the damage she sustained was negligible. However, the purpose of this attack wasn’t to cause harm, but obstruct her vision. When she emerged on the other side, the Scalper was nowhere to be seen.

The golem had to admit, that was an impressive disappearing act considering there wasn’t much of anything to hide behind. Dar Buldir’s surroundings were a mostly barren hill, the fortress itself sticking out like a sore thumb. There were no rocks or trees to obstruct vision, nor was the darkness an issue since that strange conflagration lit everything up. Thinking quickly, Fizzy realized that the only place for her opponent to hide was on the other side of his own fiery tornado. He certainly had the quick feet to pull it off, even though she only lost sight of him for a moment. The Paladin turned around and held her weapon firmly in front, waiting patiently to receive the axes that would come flying at her any second now.

Except that didn’t happen. There was no sign of the hobgoblin even as the magical flames crashed into the ruined fortress and dispersed. She glanced above and sure enough, he wasn’t in the air, either. Some form of invisibility, then? But if that were the case, the hob would still make obvious footprints in the hard-packed soil, and there were no such tracks. There were no disturbances in the ground whatsoever, aside from that one hole she just noticed right where the guy used to be.

“Oh,” Fizzy uttered.

“Crap,” Plus agreed.

With a deafening rumble, the earth split apart under the golem’s feet. She fell into the chasm as sandy soil and large rocks flooded over her, threatening to entomb her. She clambered up the side as quickly as she could, but her dense frame had too much weight for her tiny limbs to find a stable foothold. The Scalper popped out of the ground several steps away. His entire body shuddered head to toe as he instantly shook off the dry dirt covering him. He then casually walked over to the rapidly filling spit and squatted near the edge.

“Yo!” he waved at the sinking golem, a shit-eating grin under his pointy nose. “How you doin’?”

“I’ll rip out your spine!” Fizzy bellowed. “Right! Through! Your! Ass!”

“Ya-huh. Good luck with dat.”

He was aware, of course, that the Burial Mound Spell wouldn’t kill her. Golems didn’t need to breathe, and this one was clearly strong enough to dig herself out. The hob knew that. However, it would take her time and effort, and she would be vulnerable in the moment when her top half emerged but her lower half was buried. This provided him with time to prepare and rethink his strategy, along with an opportunity to strike. Furthermore, with a bit of luck, the landslide would separate the construct from that lump of steel she kept swinging around, drastically reducing her reach and ability to hurt him.

“Wait…” he squinted at her struggling form. “Where de ting?”

‘De ting’ then fell squarely on his head.

[A special action has been performed. LCK +1.]

In a fit of chaotic inspiration, Fizzy had thrown her wrench upwards the instant the grown started swallowing her up. That way she’d have a free hand to climb out and could easily reclaim the weapon once she did so. Then, through what could only be blind luck, the wrench came crashing down on top of the Scalper’s skull. Any civilian struck in this way would have their head split open and their brains spill out. The hobgoblin was a tough cookie, though, so the worst that happened to him was that he got a nasty bump and was momentarily dazed. His entire body lurched forward, slipped on the unstable shifting soil, and tumbled into the hole. When he came to his senses a second later, he was at the bottom and about to get buried.

This was bad news. Unlike golems, hobgoblins required air to live. So, in order to avoid getting done in by his own magic, the Scalper slapped the collapsing gravel and rock with Mold Earth. It was the same Skill that allowed him to sink into the ground earlier, except this time he was forcing the soil to solidify rather than split apart. That crisis averted, the Shaman turned his attention to the next critical matter. Namely, the arm poking out of the dirt next to him. More specifically, the shiny digits wrapped firmly around his left wrist.

“… Ah, crap.”

Those were the only words he managed to utter before Fizzy’s grip on him tightened to bone-crunching levels. The golem pulled down fiercely, using the Scalper as an anchor as she pulled herself up with a high-pitched metallic yell. With only her upper body unburied, she swung the hobgoblin into the opposite side of the pit by his arm, making him slam into the ground-wall hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. She did the same three more times before throwing him out of the hole and rapidly climbing back out. Understandably, getting tossed around like a ragdoll had left the greenskin momentarily incapacitated. He was still on the ground by the time the golem clawed her way out of that damnable chasm. Fizzy did not relent, of course. She jumped on his back heels first. The Scalper groaned and roared in pain as he felt multiple bones crack underneath the construct’s dense mass.

At this point, it was looking like the Paladin had won. He knew that, she knew that, and anyone who might have been watching also knew that. Even if the hob got back to his feet, he was far too injured to keep evading her as nimbly as he had before and he was no match for her in close quarters. Of course, that didn’t mean this fight was over. The Scalper was a Sweeper - a monster among monsters. Much like Boxxy, he possessed an overwhelming will to live and survive. Face down in the dirt with a metal zealot pressing down on his spine? He’d seen worse. Lived worse. He’d already be rotting bones if a lucky shot like that wrench drop could do him in.

“De-chu-ka!”

In a fit of desperation, the hobgoblin and the construct on his back were enveloped by a Frost Blast. Of course he knew the Spell, it was one of the baseline incantations that all Shamans learned at a certain Level. It only incapacitated Fizzy for a second since her Engine of Destruction had plenty of time to rev up, but it was enough for the Scalper to pull himself out from underneath her. He then invoked something he held onto until things looked exceptionally dire, and this predicament absolutely qualified. He rose to his feet with a mighty war cry that would give Hilda a run for her money. Fizzy emerged from her momentary suspension in ice to find her crippled opponent was not only standing, but charging at her like a rabid animal. Literally, with eyes darting all over the place and white foam leaking out of his mouth.

His strikes were anything but feral, however. The twin axes, still imbued with fire, danced through the air as they struck at the Paladin’s joints and face - places where any metal-plated armor would be vulnerable. Fizzy focused completely on defense, bobbing and weaving so that the blades struck the thicker plates instead. However, the Scalper moved with even greater speed than before, seemingly unperturbed by the many broken bones he now had. Some of his precision attacks found their target and cleaved deep into the mechanical muscle underneath the outer shell, especially around Fizzy’s head. This made her ‘bleed’ as the magic keeping her alive and animate was disrupted. Yet she was not worried, for Plus kept repairing the damage faster than the rampaging hob could inflict it. Fizzy naturally didn’t just take the punishment, but also struck back whenever she could. She didn’t do much since she had neglectfully left her all-important wrench at the bottom of that pit. Her fist didn’t even seem to do any damage regardless of how hard she hit back. Not only were there no reports of her reducing her target’s HP in her head, but the guy didn’t even flinch no matter how many times she nut-punched or kneecapped him.

This violent exchange lasted for exactly sixty seconds, which was how long the Scalper’s Undying Frenzy lasted. The high-Level Hobgoblin SKill had been suppressing his sense of pain and temporarily delaying any damage he took while in that state. Now that it was gone, the cumulative agony overtook him like a tsunami. He fell over with a tortured scream, convulsing uncontrollably as his body recoiled from the extreme shock of what he had just put it through. Seeing this, Fizzy backed off and relaxed a bit. She figured something like this would happen. Common sense dictated that the Berserker-like ability would come at a heavy cost. In this case, the tithe was physical. The gob’s broken bones were jutting out of his limbs and stomach, having pierced the skin and likely ruptured internal organs. The golem could just leave the guy here and he’d probably expire on his own. Or she could make certain he didn’t survive this by her own hand.

After thinking about it for a second, the Paladin decided to do neither. Those options were too… easy.

“… Holy Light.”

Green-tinted golden radiance enveloped the Scalper, mending his wounds just enough to stave off death for the moment. Fizzy could not allow him to expire. Not just yet. He had a date with Mortimer to be sure, but the Paladin wanted a ‘word’ with him first. This meatbag, this absolute heretic, had tried to bury her in the dirt like she was some piece of garbage to be forgotten. Imagined or not, this slight against her had the golem seething. The meatbag had to adequately atone for the sake of her bruised ego. Then and only then would his soul be allowed to move on and be cleansed of his immense sins.

Or at least that had been Fizzy’s spur-of-the-moment intention. Now that she had the chance to consider her actions, she found herself at a bit of a loss as to what to do. The thought of seeing the meatbag squirm and beg for death filled her core with glee, but she had no idea how to get there. Torturing people had never been one of her hobbies. Then again, surely there was no ‘wrong’ way to inflict suffering upon a living thing, so anything would do. Looking down at the spasming meatbag, and at the broken wrist in particular, she had another fit of chaotic inspiration.

Fizzy extended an arm towards the still-settling crater of dirt, prompting the oversized wrench within to leap into her grip via Magnetize. She gripped its handle between her knees and used her hand to slowly open its jaws. The Scalper breathed heavily as he watched this, having calmed down significantly after that restorative Spell. His pointy face was plastered with confusion, as he had no idea what this shiny little girl was doing. He considered attempting to make a run for it, but his body was still in terrible shape. Yes, his lethal injuries were healed, but he was effectively crippled. The golem had punched his kneecaps many times during the Undying Frenzy, and once that wore off, his legs were rendered about as useless as a spoon with a hole in it. This time he was completely stuck, and could only think of one way to survive.

“Ey. Urgh,” he groaned. “Listen ‘ere.”

The golem shot him a sharp glare as she continued manipulating her wrench, but she did not respond.

“Look. I don’t wanna die, and you- Hrn! You probably got important stuff to do. Big things, yeah? Maybe you need a big bad guy to help you out, ah?”

“You literally tried to kill me. You buried me.”

“Well, you broke about thirty of my bones and killed all my boys, but I not be holdin’ dat against you.”

“This is absurd. Do you honestly think I’m stupid enough to let you live? Let alone ‘help me out?’”

“No, no, I getchu. Hey, I know me, and even I don’t trust me, eh? But see, trust ain’t got no part in bein’ a shield-serf.”

Fizzy’s hand paused. Now there was a term she hadn’t heard in a long while. A shield-serf was a battle slave in all but name, kept in check by an explosive collar magically bound to a contract by a senior Scribe. The result was an item that would decapitate its wearer should they go against the contract’s terms or tamper with the device. It wasn’t a hundred percent foolproof, of course, but effective enough for the Horkensaft Kingdom to inflict upon its worst criminals in lieu of a death sentence. The practice was exclusive to stout-folk culture, as was forcing convicted prisoners to fight to the death in gladiatorial bloodbaths. Fizzy herself had served as executioner to many such individuals in Azurvale’s Stone District arena before the war, which was where she first heard about shield-serfs.

All that aside, this hob’s offer was… curious. Logically, it made sense for him to suggest that and for her to accept it since both parties benefited from the arrangement. Fizzy would gain a very capable ‘servant’ to cover for her shortcomings in battle, like her inability to fight effectively at range or her lack of area suppression Skills and Spells. He’d be in shackles most of the time and forced to wear that contractual bomb-collar besides, so the odds of him surviving an escape attempt were basically nil. He’d also be a shield-serf for life, all but guaranteeing that he’d die horribly in battle. On the upside, he’d be alive until then, and most living things would agree that later was better than sooner when it came to the final curtain. Whether they would do so in exchange for their freedom was up to the individual, and this hobgoblin wouldn’t have suggested the idea if he, like a certain ex-mimic, preferred oblivion to servitude.

Unless, of course, he had a way out. The odds of this plan involving some underhanded scheme in a bid for freedom were high. Very high. This Scalper fellow clearly knew a lot about the Kingdom’s culture and customs. He also indirectly admitted to being aware of the Republic and its capital. He even spoke the common tongue, for Penelope’s sake. He was far too much of an anomaly, not entirely unlike a certain homicidal box. He could easily have some obscure Skill or Spell that would allow him to escape his bindings. Perhaps that final ability he used could let him survive the decapitating blast. Or maybe he had underworld connections that could take the bomb-collar off him. It was equally possible that Fizzy was overthinking things and that this was exactly what it seemed on the surface.

All in all, there were too many what-ifs and uncertainties for the golem to make an informed decision.

What do you think, Plus? she asked her alter ego.

“I say we do it. Worst case he tries something stupid and we squash him again! We already know all his tricks!”

No, we don’t.

“MOST of his tricks!” the Parallel corrected herself.

The opposite is also true, and I’m not sure if we can win as easily the second time around. We only came out on top this time because we got lucky, remember?

“Also because we’re awesome.”

Yes, that too, but leaving this sort of thing up to chance is…

‘Not something Boxxy would do’ were the words she couldn’t think aloud. As far as Fizzy was aware, that shapeshifter was dead. For all of its plans, schemes, redundancies, items, familiars, power, and all kinds of other factors, it still died. There was always a non-zero chance that something could go horribly wrong, and when push came to shove, that monster wasn’t afraid to take risks. It was why the God of Dice Rolls chose it as his Hero. How could Fizzy, as a follower and Champion of Russel, possibly do any less? Chances existed to be taken, did they not?

“Alright,” she decided. “I’ve considered your proposal and decided to accept it.”

“Ah, dis be good to hear,” the Scalper smiled under his broken nose. “I’m sure you be findin’ me a strong-”

“However,” the golem interrupted, “I first require some insurance you won’t do anything stupid until we get that collar on you.”

The hob’s smile wavered upon hearing those words, then vanished when he saw the construct approach. He did not like that cold, lifeless glare she was giving him. If his aching groin was any indication, this was not a person who understood the concept of ‘mercy,’ so he couldn’t help but worry about this ‘insurance’ she was about to inflict upon him. His concerns were proven accurate when she kicked him in the ribs, several of which were still shattered, causing him to convulse in pain all over again. She then slammed her wrench down over his left arm so that his bicep was between its teeth. And then Fizzy started tightening it like a vice. Slowly and surely, the tool’s steel grip dug into his aching flesh. It squeezed and squeezed, showing no signs of stopping even as the muscle turned blue and blood began to ooze from it. The pain was excruciating, clearly distinct over the ocean of agony already coursing through the hob. As his bones creaked and cracked under the ever-increasing pressure, the Scalper’s feral side took over for a moment. There was no Ultimate behind it, just a cornered creature lashing out against its aggressor with a wild axe swing.

The blade clanged against the golem’s cheek, leaving behind a minor scratch. The hobgoblin snapped back to his senses and stared with rapidly escalating horror as Fizzy’s eyes and smile widened to the point of madness. The golem rose from her kneeling position and grasped her wrench’s handle, its business end still firmly clutching the arm. She then stamped on that same shoulder with her foot, keeping the hob’s torso firmly pinned to the ground. Then, she started pulling, and did not stop.

Some say the walls of Dar Buldit continued to echo with the Scalper’s screams for decades to come.