Book 2, Side Chapter: Darrite?

[Anne & Bernard]

Below the outskirts of Greide Village, two people shrouded in darkness and dark cloth scuttled along the darkness, a lantern radiating a soft purple light following behind them as it floated through the air. One of the figures was a young woman with purple highlights in her shoulder-length hair, while another was a normal-looking young man with a strange charm to his aquamarine eyes that seemed to suck whoever viewed it right in.

The latter had a somewhat crudely crafted set of deep-forest iron plate around his body, hidden under a dark green cloak as a large container hung from his back. Two shields were strapped to his arms, giving him the feeling of an impenetrable wall. The woman meanwhile, wore a well-crafted set of Steel-hide Boar leather armor under her cloak the color of purple so deep it was almost black. In her hands was a terrifying black warhammer, seemingly crafted from pieces of insect chitin welded together to create its terrifying form.

One of them, the young man, waved his hand forward. The iron lantern followed his command and flew ahead of them, rising three meters above the floor of the passage to float still just below the ceiling.

Suddenly, the flame brightened, and the area in front of them was fully exposed to reveal a sea of heads and green bodies.

The heads turned, and stared straight at them.

Both parties looked at each other, stunned. A few moments of silence passed, but one of the many heads in front of them slowly opened its mouth. “Ah—!!”

With a muffled sound, a block made of metal lodged itself inside its mouth, knocking a few teeth out as the Goblin collapsed to the ground. Immediately, the two people in front of the mass of goblins turned around and ran as a chorus of high-pitched screeching exploded out from behind them.

“Shit, shit, shit..!” Bernard yelled, placing his arm behind him as they ran, covering himself and Anne who was running beside him. Low clangs rang out from the metal as rocks and crude arrows pelted the shields’ metal surfaces.

Anne, who was beside him, had a terrified look on her face as she ran as fast as she could. Goblins were no problem to them even in that number, but the sight of dozens of little shit-sniveling midgets running towards you tended to do a number on someone’s morale. She hummed something under her breath, a song, and suddenly, a purple glow shone beneath their feet as their running sped up by a good amount.

“Bernard, slow them the fuck down!” She shouted, covering her ears in irritation as the screeching echoed off the walls and amplified the sound to disgusting lengths.

The aquamarine-eyed blacksmith running beside her willed his magic, and from the container strapped to his back, an assortment of items floated out. A metal flask, and two sharp daggers. The items sped past the two, the metal flask opening up in front of them to spew out copious amounts of black oil. The two jumped over it, and as they landed on the other side, the two daggers screeched against one another, creating a shower of sparks that landed on the oil below.

Boom! With a boom, the oil exploded into an inferno of flames that blocked out the opposite side of the passage, stopping the goblins in their tracks and even causing some to bump into the ones in front and knocking them into the flames.

Afterwards, the screeching only got louder until Anne finally whipped around to face the flames with a look of intense irritation on her face. She sucked in a breath, and then she screamed.

A powerful wave of purple light exploded out from her, amplified by her magic as it similarly reverberated off the walls to crash into the goblins in front of them with an intense cacophony of sounds. The sheer impact of her voice knocked the goblins down and sent the ones at the front flying back, causing even the flames on the ground to flare up before ultimately being extinguished from the sheer pressure of her voice.

Her friend behind her immediately followed up, his eyes shining as over a dozen brick-sized blocks of metal floated out from the container strapped to his back. They shone with a dull aquamarine hue as they sped past the greathammer-wielding bard, cracking into the heads of multiple goblins that remained standing. The bricks didn’t stop there. With quick movements dictated by the young man’s eyes, they weaved into the goblins, shattering bones and cracking skulls as goblins fell by the handful.

Anne leapt into the fray, avoiding the metal bricks with practiced motions as she jabbed the hammerhead of her weapon into the chest of a green-skin, then spun the hammer in her hand to have the shaft crack against the shin of another goblin.

Finally, she swung it like a golf club, cracking stone as the area around her suddenly seemed to become heavier, causing goblins to fall to their knees as the weapon shattered the floor and sent a line of stone shrapnel into the horde of goblins, shredding skin and ending many amongst the metal bricks the endlessly chased and struck down any fleeing foes.

After a few more seconds of fighting, the two finally stopped, panting as they put away their weapons. Bernard’s items flew back into the container on his back, and the two began to walk ahead once again as they covered their noses to block out the suffocating smell of blood and smoke. Anne glanced back at the goblins, shuddering as she recalled the feeling of flesh and bone giving way to her attacks. No matter how many times she killed monsters, the sensation never failed to make her feel disgusted.

“When is this tunnel going to end?” Bernard complained, drinking from a flask of water.

Anne sighed. “You don’t get to complain dude. We’re here because you got greedy and asked that blacksmith for the ore he was using.”

“Don’t you know good Darrite is?” Bernard looked at her like a blasphemer. “I can make some awesome weapons with that crap. It’s not my fault some goblins hiding under the village decided to steal a lot of shit that included some Darrite ore.”

“You are so going to be late in reporting back.”

“Shut up,” Bernard said, walking significantly faster as they reached the end of the tunnel to reveal a large room carved into the stone. In the center of the room stood a fat goblin hiding behind the rest of its kind in fear as the group of little green-skins trembled at the sight of them.

Bernard was about to activate weapon float when Anne stopped him with a hand. She stepped in front of the goblins and glared at them, before raising her hammer. The goblins squealed, flinching as they retreated farther back into the room. Anne turned around and flashed a grin at Bernard, before turning back at the little midgets; her face a mask of threats and violence.

“Treasure,” She growled, gathering her mana to activate magic from her second highest affinity; Gravity. Immediately, her two biggest mana affinities—Vocal and Gravity, intermixed in order to create a pressure that weighed on the goblins with every syllable that left her mouth. The weak little goblins equivalent to the first and second thresholds fell to their knees, trembling under the weight of the air as only a handful remained standing on shaky legs.

Anne saw fear in their gazes, but they didn’t seem to understand her words. She sighed inwardly. It was pretty dumb to expect goblins to know Common.

Instead, she brought out a silver coin and glanced at Bernard, sending him a signal with her eyes. She threw it at them, and mid-flight, Bernard channeled his Telekinetic affinity to increase the power of its descent. That, along with the greathammer-wielding bard increasing the gravity around the coin, caused it to slam into the ground, fracturing earth and leaving an imprint a few millimeters deep. The goblins screamed in fright, some even wetting their pants as they refused to even look up at her.

She pointed at the coin. “Give,” Anne ordered, feeling sweat drip down her brow as she infused a feeling of desire into her voice using magic.

The green little creatures seemed to understand what she said, with the few that were standing hurriedly running to a room adjacent to the one they were in. Anne lowered the pressure of her magic and sighed lightly as her magic stopped draining her mana reserves. Just the act she pulled had cost her a great amount of MP, especially after infusing an emotion like desire into her voice and increasing the gravity around the coin by threefold.

A little while after the goblins relaxed from the reduced pressure, one of the green-skins ran out of the adjacent room, a sack in its hands as it ran towards them with its head lowered. It flinched as it entered Anne’s gravity zone, but managed to deliver the bag, dumping its contents in front of them.

Coppers, a surprising amount of silver, trinkets, tools, shiny rocks; an assortment of items landed on the floor in front of them. Bernard stared at the pile, before grinning widely as he pulled out a large piece of red-colored ore. He looked at it lovingly. “I’m already wet.”

“Save thinking of James’s dick for later,” Anne said, glaring the goblin off as she started putting things into the sack. “Preferably not anywhere in my general area too.”

Bernard waved his hand, and the clutter on the ground smoothly flowed into the sack on the ground. Surrounded in a greening blue glow, the sack floated on the air beside him as the two of them walked out of the passage. As for the goblins, well, they usually moved out after having their lairs discovered and attacked, so the village above wouldn’t have to worry anymore. The contract was just to get rid of them after all. Neither of them felt like killing more of these slightly humanoid creatures, especially with the tragic screeches they let out while dying.

Passing over the hallway covered in blood and injured goblins, the two left the underground passage through a cave-like entrance hidden over large clumps of thick, purple vines.

The goblin nest wasn’t far from the village. They managed to make it back in just about twenty minutes of speed walking. Bernard walked up the steps of a cozy little wooden home and knocked on the doors as Anne idly swung her legs around by the porch, the image contrasting heavily with the terrifying hammer hanging from her back. Finally, with a little creak, the door opened and a gust of air that smelled of baked bread wafted out.

“Hey,” Bernard said, looking at the middle aged man that opened the door with an apron over his shoulders.

“Contract’s finished?” The man spoke with a gruff voice, scratching his scruffy salt and pepper beard as he regarded the young man in front of him. As this person had proven once before, he was not only a competent blacksmith, but also an equally competent fighter.

“Yeah,” He nodded, the sack floating to his right gently landing on the floor in front of the man’s feet. “Got rid of your village’s uh, goblin problem and stole your stuff back.”

The man smiled, and entered the house, coming back a few seconds later and placing a pouch onto Bernard’s hand. The familiar jingle of coin entered his ears and caused him to grin. With this, he should have enough money saved up to go on a forging spree for a few days. As for Anne, well, she always found a way to keep herself entertained while he drowned inside the heat of the forge, so he’d let her be.

Bernard was about to turn around and leave when he paused, looking back at the man who was about to shut the door. “Andre told me I could have the Darrite ore in that sack if I retrieved the stolen items.”

“You have any way to confirm that?”

“Come on man, I’ve been forging in your village for half a week, completed like, five contracts, and I’m well known enough in the area that a bounty on my head is essentially a death sentence,” Bernard threw his hands up exasperatedly. This was the third time this village representative told him something like this. He should’ve learned from the first two times, but Bernard was never good at learning things he didn’t want to learn.

The man gave him a look and reached a hand into the sack, tossing the ore at him. Bernard caught it and flashed the man a grin. “Any chance I could receive a bonus?”

“No,” The man said, unceremoniously shutting the door to his home.

“You really thought that would work?” He heard Anne say from behind him.

“It worked on those thieves after we decided not to turn them in.”

“You were threatening them with a five year sentence.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bernard shook his head, walking down the wooden steps with her as they moved towards the village’s forge. Not all villages had one, but this one was lucky (and rich) enough, to be able to sustain one.

As they passed a brewery, a young man who seemed to be waiting for the two of them suddenly stepped out in front of them, a bouquet of purple flowers in his hands as he looked at them with sparkling cat-like yellow eyes. No, rather, he was looking past Bernard—straight at Anne. He knelt in front of the stunned duo and began to speak.

“Anne, you must remember me, Alleid, the merchant’s son you saved from a stone golem just a few days back,” He said, before coughing once. “Though this has been done by many, please let me profess my admiration towards you with a poem that can only be given from myself, to yo—“

Just as he was about to start, Anne finished nudging Bernard on the shoulder. He glanced at her, then kneeled down in front of the man and patted his shoulder.

“You…” The merchant’s son’s eyes flashed with recognition. “Do not tell me… you are her suitor!?”

Bernard blinked. “Uh, no.”

“Her lover!?”

“No.”

“Father!?”

“Definitely not.”

“A man she’s taking advantage of for money!?”

“Dude. What the fuck,” Bernard said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked the man straight in the eye. “She,” He pointed at Anne with his thumb. “Is gay.”

The young man stared at him. “What..?”

Bernard sighed and looked back at Anne. “Do I really have to do this?”

She looked back at him seriously. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen for two years. I won that bet, Bernard. Do it.”

“God damn it,” He cursed, before looking back at the man tiredly. He put up two hands, one in the shape of a ring, and other pointing towards said ring. “Do you see this?”

“Yes,” The man nodded, a befuddled expression lining his face.

“This,” Bernard gestured to the ring. “Is puspus. And this,” He raised the pointing finger. “Is a dick.”

“……”

“See Anne?” He motioned to the girl behind him who was nodding seriously. “She doesn’t like dick. She wants puspus, yes? Do you understand?”

Seeing that the young man remained silent, Bernard continued. “She doesn’t go for dudes. Plus, even if she did also like dick, the faggot’s taken. I’m sure you’ve heard, but we’re new arrivals. Anne has a girlfriend, er, lady suitor back home.”

The young man with cat-like eyes in front of the two stood up abruptly. “But that is past! One cannot return to one’s world after being taken here! A relationship of the same sex is also a desecration of the teachings of Lady Hirhme—“

“Aaand I’m out,” Anne said, walking past Bernard and the young man as she entered the forge, greeting the head smith Andre with a grin and a nod.

Meanwhile, Alleid, who was apparently a firm believer of some goddess, continued to preach to Bernard about the consequences of ignoring the teachings of his faith. Just as Bernard was about to use his Telekinetic affinity to activate Weapon Float, Andre waltzed out of the forge and pushed Alleid out of the way.

“Merchants don’t preach, son,” Andre said, looking back at Bernard. “Let’s go. You wanted to smith some Darrite, right? Let me show you how I do it.”

Bernard grinned and nodded, ignoring the look on the face of the young man in front of him as he walked away with Andre into the forge. He pulled out the Darrite from his container and held it in his hands as he stared at the billowing smoke of the forge, and the hissing of steam as metal was treated and cooled down. He gazed on as Andre poured mana into a device to intensify the flames and began to heat the metal.

He watched, and Anne sat by a work table, a lute in her hands as she hummed along to a tune, causing little purple flames to float around her.

Bernard smiled. He had to admit, once they got past trying not to die all the time, this fantasy world really got a lot more fun. He glanced outside, and saw the merchant’s son walking away with his shoulders drooped.

Anne was still gay though.

Poor guy.