III

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Arc III Chapter 2

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Lambert's iron gaze swept through the ranks and identified his target, a certain girl who proved her repeated insolence and unwillingness to cooperate time and time again. His eyes narrowed. The girl shivered and protected her doll.

Iris admonished him, “Lambert, you scare her.”

Lambert ignored her. The girl and he needed to talk. This was important. His eyes narrowed. “...”

The girl hid behind her doll as if she could protect her.

Persuasion yielded little success, so Lambert tried his luck with bargaining. He employed his negotiation skills. “Listen, lass, I am doing this for us both. If you follow my advice, everyone will benefit. Nobody gets hurt. Nobody dies. We all will have a great time.”

The girl peeked from behind her doll. Her fluffy cheeks conveyed a false sense of innocence. True evil was hiding behind her fluffy façade.

“The area ahead is dangerous. The arsenal should be safe. At least, the guild said so ... I have no idea what ancient apparatus and contraptions are still lurking down there, and I don't have the intention to find out in the coming days. So don't, I repeat, don't touch anything! No matter how sparkly, shiny, or whatever else, don't touch anything!

Don't poke anything! Same rules.

Don't run down the corridors! We walk.

Don't run ahead! We stay together.

Don't separate from the group!

Don't attack anything! We will deal with it.

Don't ask stupid questions! Follow these simple rules, and you will make life much easier for all of us!”

The girl nodded. “I will give my best.”

Lambert celebrated his victory. Not everything was lost yet. Peace remained an option.

The girl clenched her fists. Her motivation ran high. “I will touch everything.

I will poke everything.

I will run ahead.

I will separate from the group.

I will attack whatever ...”

Lambert was satisfied. The girl followed his orders to the letter. “Excellent ... Wait! No!”

His fist struck her head with justified fury. “Bad girl, what did I tell you?” His anger flared up.

“Ouchie, Lambert having no sense of humour. I made a joke.”Aurora rubbed her poor head.

Lambert's eyebrow twisted. His fist struck again. “Stop messing with me. This is a serious matter. This is a matter of life and death.”

Aurora rolled her eyes. No sense of humour whatsoever. “Understood, understood, I will comply.” Why was she always singled out for being a troublemaker? Even in this life. Unfair. It was true that she tended to attracted trouble, but she was innocent. Trouble visited her, and not the other way around.

“Good.” Lambert gripped his sword and lit a torch. “Let's go.”

The party proceeded and entered the arsenal. They passed the enormous gate, silent monuments of stone, decrepit relics of a lost civilisation.

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The catacombs were dark and illumination proved subpar once they reached the underground floors. Little surprising considering the nature and state of the ruins. Subterranean structures weren't optimised for natural lighting, and providing illumination to uninvited visitors was certainly not among the foremost priorities of the ancient constructors.

Corpses littered the ruins, or what remained of them. Their flesh had long since rotten away, with only their bones remaining. Their skeletons had been stripped of all valuables ages ago, with some worthless scraps of metal being left behind. Rusted pieces of armour, helmets, gauntlets, greaves, spears, swords.

A battle took place across the catacombs. Regardless of which side prevailed, the victor was lost to history. Friend, enemy, soldier, civilian, hero, villain, it didn't matter. In the end, they all rested together. In death, they were all equal. The battle took its toll. Losses mounted, but the fighting raged on with undiminished intensity. Scars of battle lined their way. Scorch marks, collapsed walls and floors, mountains of rubble. Magic of the more explosive kind was responsible for this destruction. Brick and stone were torn asunder by the potent forces of magic.

Aurora was tempted to expand her inventory by adding a few souvenirs, but Lambert's watchful gaze stopped her each time, forcing her to retract her thieving hands. Lambert monitored her every move, forcing her to behave like a responsible adult. Annoying. She sorely missed her mischievous escapades. Being a good girl bored her. She should be allowed to behave according to her physical age.

Aurora crossed her arms and pouted. A dark cloud floated above her head. Life was unfair. No rights for little girls.

The party progressed smoothly. No resistance was encountered except for bugs and spiders. Her cute boots eliminated them both alike with little mercy.

Little Aurora turned her attention to her newest friend. Unlike the rest of the party, Iris treated her with kindness and didn't suspect her. Iris understood the tender heart of a girl, and her naivety allowed her to disperse doubts.

She was an innocent girl, a cute little girl with sparkly eyes, fluffy cheeks, and a doll. Everyone likes doll. Her little hands tugged at Iris' robe. “Sister Iris. Sister Iris. Sister Iris.”

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