Chapter 121 - Two Blades and a Tail II

Claire spent the next few days moving between the chasm and the maze. As much as she wanted to focus on the former, she found that there was no reason to spend all her time beneath the waves. The lord of the depths would only be replaced once every three hours; the mandatory lapse was just long enough for her to plough through Crabby Crags and cut down the eel that was its ruler. At night, she would return not to the beach, but the savannah. Though the sand was always warm and welcoming, a flame by the shore was much easier to spot than one obscured by tall grass, and the last thing she wanted was to be found.

“I want to eat meat.”

It was on the third night that she voiced the complaint. Dropping a fistfull of half-eaten pseudo wheat into the flames, she rubbed her midsection with her tail and grumbled aloud. She had no idea why, but something in her lower body, likely a second stomach, was screaming for a fleshier, bloodier meal. The urge was so powerful that even Sylvia was starting to look like a juicy steak with a tail.

“Huh? Where’d that come from?” The potential meal sitting by the flame raised her head from a large fish and tilted it like a confused puppy. “And can’t you just summon some?”

The sea creature she was devouring was only one of the many she had prepared for her evening meal. There were three fleshless skeletons lying in the grass and another five live victims in the bubbles floating around her. The dull-witted creatures showed no signs of discontent or panic, even though their compatriots were being eaten right before their eyes.

“Maybe.”

She scrolled through Llystletein Authority’s menu, but found nothing of interest. None of the thirty odd items recently added did anything to whet her appetite, so she settled on the most expensive option she could afford. She had no idea how a Monopus Mushroom Steak☆ was meant to taste, or why it cost 10000MP, but something about the final descriptor in its name had raised her expectations.

“What did you pick?” asked Sylvia.

“Seafood. You can have some.”

The fox’s ears perked up immediately, even though she had already eaten far more than her fair share. “I can’t wait! What kind is it?”

“Steak.”

“Steak? That sounds tas—” Sylvia’s tail suddenly went stiff. “Wait a second!” She scampered through the air and got right in the lyrkress’ face. Their noses were so close that they almost touched. “You didn’t kill one of the sea cows when I wasn’t watching, did you!? How could you, Claire? They’re so cute!”

Rolling her eyes, the lyrkress grabbed the furball by the nape, repositioned her at a reasonable distance, and wiped the spit off her face with her tail. “I didn’t. Stop panicking. And don’t spit on me. Or I’ll use your tail next time.”

“Oh. Oops. Sorry,” said Sylvia.

“And there’s nothing wrong with me killing them in the first place.”

“Claire!”

“They’re tasty. Even your mother said so.”

“B-but sea cows are friends! Not food!”

“They can be both. No one’s ever said that friends can’t be food.”

Sylvia’s face shifted rapidly between disbelief, suspicion, and horror as she backed off, one small step at a time. Despite all her caution, she tripped the moment the lyrkress magically tugged on one of her feet, an event that left her squeaking in terror and her assailant cackling with glee.

“I was joking.” Claire squeezed out a response as she leaned on a nearby tree and caught her breath. It’s monopus steak.”

“O-oh… thank goodness.” Sylvia made an attempt to plop onto her stomach, but she was reeled into the half-moose’s hands and made into a hat before she hit the grass. “Wait… monopus? It’s a fish steak?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.”

“If it is, then I’m sure it’ll be really tasty.” Claire’s headdress began to salivate, but unlike the last time, the fuzzy hat managed to catch itself in the act. It covered its face with its paw just quickly enough to save its wearer from a bad hair day.

“Lesson learned.” said Claire, as she removed it. “I won’t talk about seafood while you’re on my head anymore.”

“Hey! I didn’t even drool on you that time!”

“Still too close for comfort. Dog drool smells bad.”

“For the last time! I’m not a dog, I’m a fox!” The very annoyed furball heaved a sigh. “Oh, whatever. You know what? I just won’t be a fox anymore.”

She stood up on her hind legs and went through the usual process of glowing as she began to change shape. Claire thought nothing of it until a certain idea passed through her head. A small grin appeared on her face as she focused on her eyes and froze the fox. It was a calculated assault, made with picture perfect knowledge of one of the pet’s typical habits.

Unlike the lyrkress, who made adjustments to her posture as she changed forms, Sylvia would only begin to move after she finished.

“Claaaaiiire!” The annoyed shout came after a thud; the fairy had wound up with her body pitched forward and her forehead planted in the dirt. “What the heck!”

“What?”

“You paralyzed me!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Claire blinked, innocently as she could. “Don’t blame me for everything. It’s not my fault you tripped.”

“Yes it is!” The fairy stamped her feet in the air before flying up to the lyrkress’ nose and pinching its tip between her hands.

“Ow.”

Sylvia paused for a moment to blink. She couldn’t quite figure out if she was meant to trust or scrutinize the cry of pain. On one hand, she had enacted the fairy equivalent of a small fox bite, but on the other, Claire’s cry had not even the slightest hint of annoyance. Combined with her abnormal pain tolerance, there seemed to be a compelling argument that she was just faking it.

“Hmph!” Giving up, the pixie crossed her arms and pouted. “That’s what you get for bullying me.”

“Fine. I won’t anymore.”

“Wait, really?”

“No.” Claire grabbed her tiny fox-tailed friend, and seated her on her ice spike. “Is it too cold?”

“Yes!” Sylvia leapt off the chilly ledge as soon as it touched her rear. “I’m gonna freeze my butt off if I sit on that!”

The blueblood rolled her eyes. “It’s not that cold. You’d lose your tail at worst.”

“Then I’m definitely never sitting there!” She hugged the fuzzy appendage to her chest, as if to keep it away from a poacher. “I love my tail!”

“Is your tail fuzzier? Or mi—”

Claire froze before she could finish. The voice she had been awaiting finally echoed through her mind.

Log Entry 3182

Basic Force Resistance has reached level 20.

Log Entry 3183

The Basic Force Resistance skill has evolved into Force Resistance.

“Uhmmm… Claire?” Sylvia waved her arms in front of the half-lamia’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I got it,” said the lyrkress.

“Got what?”

“Force resistance. Basic force resistance finally evolved.”

“Oh! That means you can finally fly like everyone else!” She twirled through the air and rose to twice the half-cervitaur’s height. The magical pixie dust that drifted off her nonexistent wings kept her every bit as illuminated as the flame.

“Maybe,” said Claire, with her brow furrowed.

Force Resistance - Level 1

The first force that most mages notice and experiment with is the fundamental force of gravity. Through its manipulation, they learn control and restraint. You, on the other hand, have never once entertained the concept of restraint, nor are you intelligent enough to care much for fine control. Instead, you have spent your efforts on maximising your lethality through a class meant for utility, a foolish endeavour that has resulted in little beyond the ability to tear an anuran in two. Reconsidering your approach is advised.

P.S. You’re taking too long to ascend.

Shut up, Box. I’m trying my best.

Effects

- Gravity affects you as you will it.

- The damage that you take from force magic is reduced by 22% (20% + 2% per level.)

A small smile crossed her face as she looked over the entry not once but twice. It had been a long time since she last tasted the box’s snark, and frankly, it was refreshing. She was sure that she would have missed it more, had it ever done anything beyond blatantly insulting her. I need to stop praying to her.

Log Entry 3184

You have received a divine revelation:

No you don’t.

Your opinion is irrelevant.

“So? How does this work?” asked Claire.

“It’s really simple!” Sylvia did a loop through the air. “All you have to do is make it so the big force keeping you stuck to the ground is gone. Or pulling you in some other direction, that works too.”

“You need to work on your explanations,” muttered Claire, under her breath.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you make no sense.”

“I make lots of sense. I know it sounds weird, but I promise it’s not! You just need to try it.”

“After I eat.”

Log Entry 3185

Llystletein Authority has reached level 9.

The meal finished taking shape as Flux’s voice resounded through her head. Claire had to scramble to grab the plate before it fell onto the ground. Its balance was skewed by the large skewer set on top of it. Three quarters of the sword-sized implement was covered with the flesh of what she presumed to be a monopus, cut into pieces that even a giant would struggle to call bite-sized. Each of the sickly white lumps was covered with seasonings and roasted until lightly charred. It was fragrant, and almost wonderfully so. A flick of the tongue was all she needed to know that it would be the first authority dish that she didn’t despise.

“Wow…” Sylvia gulped. “That looks really tasty.”

Claire shrugged. “Maybe.” She gripped the skewer’s base with her tail and kept it steady as she took a small bite off the top. A frown crossed her face as she worked her sharpened teeth through the extra chewy flesh. Though present, the upside down smile did little to stop her from returning it to her mouth.

“Well?” The fox’s tail flicked from left to right as slobber dripped from her mouth. “How is it? Good? Really good?”

“Not as bad as I thought.”

The rogue grabbed the piece of meat she had already started eating and ripped it off the skewer. The three remaining were presented to her companion, who dug in right away. She was so eager that she didn’t even take the skewer. She ate it right out of Claire’s tail, like a kitten starving for a treat.

“Wits shuper twisty.” Sylvia licked her lips like a ravenous wolf and took a second bite before swallowing the first.

“It’s okay.”

The taste vaguely reminded Claire of Amereth’s cooking. Like everything else she had summoned, it was still on the blander side, lacking the complex flavour profile she was looking for. But at the very least, it was more than just the sum of its ingredients.

“Really? I think it’s amazing.”

“Even an average chef from the Ryllian can make something a thousand times better than this.”

“Wow…” Sylvia stopped eating for a moment, just to drool. “We should go there.”

“Maybe.” The bluescale took a deep breath. “It’s far from Cadria. But maybe not far enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Claire closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Well… okay. I guess you can tell me when you feel like it,” said Sylvia.

“N—” The half-lamia stopped herself short of finishing the sentence. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and magically booped the fox’s nose. “Okay. I will.”

Sylvia’s jaws ground to a halt. Eyes wide, she slowly raised her head from her meal and stopped to stare. “Really?”

“Only if you stop asking. Now hurry up and eat. I want to try flying.”

“Oh yeah! That’ll be lots of fun.”

“Maybe.”

Exchanging only a few more words, the halfbreeds got on with their meal and tucked away the rest of the monopus’ meat. Sylvia had a much larger meal than her lyrkrian companion, but she remained the first to finish. It took her only a few bites to mow her way through each submarine creature. Claire, on the other hand, practically nibbled at the meat, taking only small bites, as a well mannered noble lady should.

“I’m going to start,” she said, as she swallowed the final piece.

“Good luck!”

Full and content, the vector mage closed her eyes and focused on the force tethering her to the floating island. The vector was constant, universal. Something about its presence made her feel small, miniscule, like a tiny, insignificant speck dotted across an infinite horizon.

Severing her tie to it was like leaping into the deep end, taking a step into the unknown. A sense of unease welled up from within as she approached the edge and stared into the void. But she didn’t stop. Gripping the concept in her mind, she tore it away and negated the call that kept her grounded.

At first, it didn’t feel like much had changed. Her body didn’t immediately start to float, nor did she find herself blown away by the howling winds. Only when she tried to stand up did the effects truly manifest.

To her surprise, she wound up not just getting to her feet but also slowly rising through the air. She flailed her arms and legs in an attempt to get back down to the ground, her momentum was unaffected, save for when she accidentally smacked her tail against the ground. The impact threw her into a tailspin that came to an end only when she grabbed a nearby branch.

“You can’t swim in the air, silly!” Sylvia giggled as she watched the lyrkress flop about. “You need to move yourself with magic.”

“I hate this already.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not even that bad.” Sylvia floated up to her face and turned upside down, just so they could see eye to eye. “See? You just have to get the hang of it.”

“Stop showing off.” Claire prodded the fox-elf’s cheek with her feather duster.

“I’m just trying to help!”

“Trying and doing are different things.”

Claire stuck out her arms and tried to reorient herself as she continued to ascend, slowly, a little bit at a time, like a runaway balloon. Spinning was hard without anything to grab ahold of, but not as impossible as she had initially imagined. All it took to fix her posture was to grab her head with her tail and pull on it until it returned to an upright position. Her body threatened to continue pitching backwards, but she nullified her momentum by transferring it to a random piece of ice, freshly formed in her hand.

Log Entry 3186

Vector Manipulation has reached level 35.

“Want me to tell you the trick?”

“No.”

“All you hav-wait… what? You don’t?” Sylvia blinked before crossing her arms, puffing out her cheeks, and turning . “Er, I mean… umm… hmph! I wasn’t going to tell you anyway!”

Claire smiled as she pulled the fairy into her hands and poked her on the nose. “Let me try it for myself first.”

“If I let you try it for yourself, then you’re just gonna get mad at me, call me useless, and complain that I didn’t tell you what to do sooner!”

The accused averted her eyes. She couldn’t deny that it was a very real possibility. “I won’t.” Not without lying, at least.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

There was a brief moment of silence as one halfbreed narrowed her eyes suspiciously and the other put on a poker face.

“Really?” asked Sylvia.

“Really,” confirmed her owner.

“You owe me another steak if you end up lying!”

“Don’t worry. I won’t,” said Claire. “I want to eat it too. It’s less disgusting than everything else.”

“Oh, and you’ll never be allowed to call me useless ever again!”

“That isn’t happening.”

“What the heck! At least say you won’t!”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

It was another blatant lie. To be a member of the nobility was to sit on a throne of false promises. The lykress was no different; her father had frequently given her personal lessons in the art of social warfare, as to ensure that she would never embarrass him at a public venue.

“Claaaaaaaaaaaiiireee!”

The fairy flew up to the other girl’s face and lightly drummed the bottom of her fists against her forehead. The blows were soft, light enough to be outright dismissed.

“Stop that. It tickles.” Laughing, Claire caught the tiny half-fox out of the air and seated her on the palm of her hand. “If I can’t figure it out, and your advice doesn’t help, then I’m going to keep calling you useless forever.”

“What!? No! You can’t! That’s just cruel!”

“Too bad,” said the lyrkress. “Now shush. Let me focus.”

Freezing her ears and ignoring the complaints that followed, Claire closed her eyes and directed her focus inward. Little by little, she weakened her resistance until she started to fall, only to strengthen it again before she hit the ground. From there, she kicked off the floating island and repeated the process until she was able to spend most of her time upright.

That was when she started playing with the force, tweaking its values and altering her momentum. Rising and falling were the basics, but she was able to do far more than just that. Moving it in front of her let her pull herself forward, and placing it to her rear provided a means of retreat. Balance was only a problem until she recalled that she had a tail. The long, scaly extension allowed her to circumvent all the difficulties involved.

Before long, she was cruising through the air, flying around the sky as naturally as would her four-legged companion. The experiment was a success, but she was left unsatisfied. Though her maximum speed was rather impressive, the acceleration was gradual, and as a whole, it was unwieldy. Adjusting her trajectory was difficult; she had to offload her momentum if she wanted to change directions on the fly. The usual vector manipulation-based flight was far more explosive and intuitive. As far as combat went, she was convinced that she was best off sticking to her guns.

Maybe I should ask the useless fox.

Claire dismissed the notion as soon as she turned to Sylvia, who perked and brightened up upon sensing the other girl’s gaze. She wasn’t about to make her day for no reason, not if it meant raising the white flag.

Silently, she tore her gaze away, ignored the deflated furball, and got right back to experimenting with her newest acquisition. She was tired, but she wanted to get the hang of making sudden turns before turning in for the night.