《Hidden Beacons (Magical Transformation Progression Fantasy LitRPG)》Chapter 79: Shield and Sword
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"Yalch!" Tamma barked with a loud whisper. "Sounds like the celebration has died down a bit. Go out there and get some scouting done!"
"I'm on it!" With a salute, the ghost flew through the door. He left the girls in silence as he scoured the main dining area. The Cutthroats' activity died down; few lay motionless across the tables and floors while others were ready to topple over in their drunken and dazed state at any moment.
However, a few of the bandits overcame the temptation to chug the Rhoda Rum and remained seated upright next to Wystan at the bar. The leader himself was still slumped forward as his men patted him on his back. The rest of the area was now empty with the exit left wide open. After concluding his brief scan, Yalch returned to the storage closet.
"Looks like most of the Cutthroats are down for the count," the ghost said. "But there are a couple that look sober to me. They're right next to Wystan. I think they're trying to wake him up."
"That means we ain't got much time!" Aurrie said. She put one hand on the door and started to push it. "You two girls comin' with me?"
As the housekeeper opened the door, a thin beam of light pierced into the darkness. Miwah and Tamma looked at each other silence before giving a nod of agreeance.
"You two are quick on makin' decisions. I like that." Aurrie put her weight into her hand and opened the door with a single, strong shove. The chair propped against the door skid against the ground, making that same sharp scraping noise. The few Cutthroats that were still sober took their attention off their leader to look at the battered chair. All eyes soon focused on the woman standing in the middle of the closet's doorway.
"I heard you fellas took somethin' that doesn't belong to ya!" Aurrie stood with a confident stance; her legs were straight and her back upright as she cracked her knuckles. Her mouth curled into a scowl while her eyebrows furrowed.
Despite Aurrie's vexed expression and baleful tone, the Cutthroats remained calm. One shook Wystan's shoulder and leaned closer to the lead bandit's ear.
"Hey Wystan!" he shouted. "Those girls we caught are getting out!"
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"What?" Wystan replied groggily. He lifted his head slowly with eyes blinking. "What do you mean?"
The underling pointed at the closet. Wystan turned his head the other way and scratched the top of his scalp. "Look. Over there," the sober Cutthroat replied.
"You guys let—" His own words were interrupted by a hefty belch. "You guys let 'em escape?"
"We didn't!" the only other sober bandit cried. "That girl that served us the rum did!"
Wystan swung around in his chair, his upper body swaying from side to side. He rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand and took in a deep breath. "You woke me up just to stop some girls? You know... they're nothing without those necklaces.... right?" With the flick of his hand, he ordered the men to rush towards the closet. "Just shove them back in there. And maybe put a couple of tables in front of the door. Nail it shut if you have to!"
Without hesitation, the two men leapt from their seats and marched to the closet. Undeterred, Aurrie grabbed the jewel of her necklace and clutched it tight in her palm. "What do you girls think? Should I do it now?" she whispered without taking her eyes off the rapidly approaching pair of bandits.
"Now's a better time than ever!" Tamma replied.
"Go for it!" Yalch shouted.
The housekeeper pressed the Beacon to her heart. A familiar white glow encompassed her, turning her figure into a stark silhouette. The two Cutthroats halted their advance and became bewildered by the sight. Wystan, on the other hand, rolled his eyes to the back of his head and let out a long and exasperated groan. "Not this again," he muttered once the light faded.
Standing in the middle of the doorway was a woman clad in a tight brown leather dress with a golden belt wrapped around her waist. The pleated skirt ended halfway down her thighs, it's golden trim flowing freely while a silken white cape wrapped around her upper arms dangled down her back. Armored sandals reached up to her knees with thick leather plates that protected her shins. On her arms was a pair of similarly structured gauntlets that traveled to her elbow. Topping off her Ensemble was a golden crown that covered her forehead with a long metal piece that traveled over her hair. One hand held onto a silver sword with a long and curved blade. Strapped around her other arm was a round shield with a small section that curved into the perimeter.
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Aurrie analyzed her new attire, nodding as she held her sword in front of her face. "You weren't messin' around!" she said to the ghost.
"By the looks of that shield, your class must be Centurion!" Yalch said giddily. "You've got a lot of defense!"
"I think I can do some serious damage with this here sword, too!" Aurrie took a more aggressive stance, covering the front of her body with her shield as she poised her sword above it, ready for a stab.
"You two aren't scared, are you?" Wystan said from his seat. "There's two of you and one of her. Just grab your swords and take her down!"
One Cutthroat pulled his rapier from his sheathe while the other reached for the short blade attached to the waist of one of his dormant comrades. With weapons in hand, they continued their march but with defensive stances.
"You should have a spell to help you out," Yalch said next to Aurrie's ear. "I don't know what is since you weren’t able to cast Insight to tell me. All I can say is focus. You might be able to use it if you concentrate hard enough."
"Got it. I’m good at thinkin’ on my feet."
Aurrie stepped forward with her shield still protecting her body. She twirled her sword by its hilt and then pointed its tip at the Cutthroat with the rapier. Angered by the gesture, the rapier-wielding thrust his weapon downwards at Aurrie's feet. A quick wave of her sword deflected the attack with a loud clank.
The second Cutthroat followed up with a downwards slash angled at Aurrie's head. A swift twist of her shield caught the blade in its small gap. The Cutthroat struggled to free the wedged weapon from the shield. A prompt tug from Aurrie pulled the sword out of his grasp and to the ground. The motion left Aurrie in the position to respond with an attack of her own. She flung her arm in the opposite direction, bashing her attacker in the head with the front of her shield. A metallic ring echoed throughout the inn upon impact.
The blow floored the Cutthroat, scattering his limp body across the ground. The other Cutthroat stepped back in panic, twirling his rapier with an outstretched arm. After widening the gap between him and Aurrie, he stared back at Wystan. The leader slammed his fist on the counter, ratting the surface from end to end. A few of the dormant Cutthroats awoke from their alcohol-induced slumber and nervously took in their surroundings.
"We've been—" Another belch interrupted his speech. "We've been tricked, fellas. Should've figured that the Rhoda Rum was too good to be true!"
"W-what's the matter?" one of the woken men muttered. Wystan grabbed him by the collar and shoved him in Aurrie's direction.
"They're the matter! We've got another one of those girl warriors to deal with!" The underling scrambled to his feet as his hands fumbled across his body in search of his weapon. Groggily, he pulled a knife from behind his back and slashed at the air a few times. Three more Cutthroats rose to the occasion, all of which were just as drunk as the one before them. They too brandished their weapons and zeroed in on Aurrie.
"You want the sword, Miwah?" Tamma asked, eyeing the weapon the dispatched Cutthroat dropped. "You can make better use of it than me."
The seamstress nodded. She pushed through the open door and snatched the sword from the ground before standing at Aurrie's side. Tamma followed suit, standing in the back of the formation.
"Too bad none of these Cutthroats have a bow, Tamma," Miwah said, holding the sword in both hands to her side. “A sniper’s aim would be helpful in this formation.”
The hunter faced the rapier-wielding Cutthroat, taking note of the belt of throwing knives strapped around his chest.
"A bow and arrow isn't the only weapon that I know how to use, lass." The other two glanced at Tamma, taking note of where her eyes were focused.
"Say no more," Aurrie said as she took another step forward while maintaining her shield position. "Just give me a few seconds."
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