Manassassin 2: LitRPG Harem Adventure, page 11
part #2 of Manassassin Series
“Why would they wish to limit your abilities?” he countered, scratching at his long, dark hair.
“I suppose it’d something to do with the war,” she sighed, giving up and taking a seat next to him. “There were several chapters, along with hundreds of theories, that it took an insider to weaken the temple’s defenses. Since they refused to believe a fellow Naga could have deceived them, then they assumed it was an outsider, like myself.”
“That’s crap, but I know how you feel,” he replied, daring to let his hand rest upon her thigh. He was going to squeeze the tight muscles when her hand slid into his. “In Salem, the humans. . .any time something came up missing, or something was broken, they’d come pounding on my mother’s door. Always insisted they’d caught me in the act, even though my mother knew full well that I’d been with her at the time.”
“Please tell me she stood up for you,” she stated, tightening her grip on his thumb.
“She couldn’t,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Not that she didn’t want to. Women without husbands were. . .less than human, so to speak. Given she was the only woman with a child who was a halfling, my father’s heritage coming from a long line of conquerors?
She needn’t waste her words. Couldn’t tell you how many times I took a public lashing. Got to where I couldn’t feel anything on my back anymore. Least for a while.”
“Did you hold it against her? Your mother, that is.”
“At first, but I was young, stupid. Thought she betrayed me because of what he did to her. She talked sometimes, when she drank. Always carried on about my father, how he’d ruined her life. I always mistook it to mean that I was part of it, that the fault was mine. That I had ruined her life. It took me some years to realize that she was beside herself with pity and pain. She knew how I was treated every time I left the house. Like my ears were some sort of homing spell for suffering.”
“Was she right?”
“I’ve seen how the Naga look at you,” he pointed out, squeezing her fingers within his hand. “You know what I endured.”
“True, though they never laid a finger on me,” she teased, leaning into his arm. “I’d imagine that hardened you. It surprises me your touch is so. . .tender.”
“It wasn’t for the longest time,” he sighed. “Had a. . friend, I suppose. We were close, fellow sewer rats, trying to find some food so we could keep on living the low life. It was fun when we were kids, but. . .when we got older. . .”
“It became romantic?”
“Not at first,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Not until she got herself a boyfriend. He was older than us, maybe by five years. Bit too old for her, but whatever. Dockworker, thick muscles, tanned skin. We still hung out, but it wasn’t fun watching your best friend's tongue go exploring a dockworker’s mouth.”
“You could spare some of the details.”
“But then my point wouldn’t be as valid. Okay, fine. I was jealous, obviously. Never saw her that way until he came along.”
“What’d you do? Drop your pants and show her who the bigger man was?”
“No, I wasn’t so bold then,” he chuckled. “Did something I wasn’t too proud of though. To him, that is. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but. . . let’s just say the dock owners didn’t care for the fact that he was stealing shipments.”
“Did you get what you wanted?”
“I suppose I did,” he admitted, nodding while glancing down at the channel. A tiny fish happened past, reminding him it’d been some time since they’d eaten. “I know now that I was jealous, but I didn’t then. Didn’t even know I wanted Pryn for myself, just. . .didn’t want her becoming attached to someone like that. It turned romantic after that, for a while. She never committed to me though. Always took an interest whenever a new guy happened into the slums. Couldn’t figure it out at the time though. The guys she chose. . .they weren’t taller than me, stronger, better looking. What they did have in common was some crazed plan to get themselves out of poverty. I think that’s what she was attracted to more than anything.”
“So what happened with this, Pryn? I mean, I don’t see her here now.”
“I fled the city after my mother passed, fell into that cursed village, eventually wound up here. She uh. . .turned me in to Ethryn. Claims she didn’t know it was me, but. . .I’m having a hard time swallowing that.”
“DeVante,” she sighed, sliding a hand up to his chest, then opted to return to the arm as the armor was too hard to her touch. “I’m sorry.”
“Such is the life we live,” he muttered. “Okay, enough stalling, little Siren. Let’s get on to this new spell and head to the tunnel.”
“I wasn’t stalling,” she whispered, perhaps to herself. “I just. .
.doesn’t it feel odd to you? Sitting here, chatting so comfortably while hundreds, if not thousands of creatures loom nearby? Our death could be just around the next corner.”
“All the more reason to test the spell,” he replied, stood, and lifted her gently to her feet. It took a moment to realize he hadn’t hissed from the injured leg, but he didn’t wish to make a display of pulling out the scrolls to see if his health had refilled. “Besides, in my recent experience, death waits for us around the corner anyway, no matter where we are.”
“Fair enough, I suppose,” she sighed, brushed the dirt from her legs, then smiled sheepishly when she caught him staring at her backside. “So, how do I do this again, precisely?”
“Prep your mana, then call out the spell’s name while channeling. The rest should take care of itself.”
“Very well,” she practically sang, raised her hands, and focused on the water below. She paused for a long moment, leaving him to
guess she was channeling her mana, though the amount of time it took drew concern. After she sucked in a breath, she announced her intentions. “Water Elemental!”
A thick pillar erupted upward from the water, rising far above their heads. Kisha let out a gasp, and her hands started to fall before DeVante snatched them and kept them focused on her target. The pillar arced over their heads, smashed into the floor behind them, and slowly took form. By the time she was done, she nearly collapsed into his arms, clearly taxed from the mana spent.
“That looks formidable,” he announced, helping her turn around to bask in her creation. “Think you should give it a name though.”
The elemental stood in wait, roughly a few inches shorter than DeVante, with thick arms, an exaggerated upper body, and a narrow waist that continued into slim legs. If this were a solid entity, he doubted such a creature could stand, but it seemed perfectly balanced as it stood in wait of orders. The water within swirled about the body, sending the sediment skipping around the contour of its frame, reminding him a bit too much of Raseidon. The head was flat, without a neck, and two glowing white eyes stared at the Siren.
“I saw the words, such as you described,” she gasped with an open-mouthed smile.
“Bit jarring at first, I know. What did they say?”
“It passed by so quickly. Water Warrior, or something along those lines. Also, something about needing proper equipment.”
“We can remedy that,” he laughed and took out his inventory scroll.
By the time he was through, the water warrior gained a far more menacing appearance than it started with. A lesser chest guard he’d
picked up from a body was offered, along with a pair of gauntlets, and a broken helmet. So too was the ebon shield, with much hesitation on DeVante’s part, along with an ebon spear.
“It looks like a monster now,” she shuddered, shaking her head.
She wasn’t far from the truth. With the water being so clear, aside from the sediment swirling about, it looked more like a floating set of black armor. By his guess, the creature had more health than he, higher armor, and perhaps higher damage.
“It should go into battles first,” he announced with a nod. “Let it gain everything’s attention, then we charge in and assist.”
“But how can I assist?” she asked, looking over to the water channel. “Without a source of water, I’m useless.”
“Well, you’ve got a flame thrower,” he chuckled.
“Bwarp!”
Advancing to the tunnel required them to climb onto a catwalk that rose over the water channel. From there, it was nothing but one looming tunnel that never altered from one stride to the next.
Minutes ticked by, but the lack of teeth-clenching pain from his leg made the journey manageable.
“That should be it,” she announced, pointing to a set of stairs in the corner of the tunnel. “The main chamber should be above us now. With any luck, we’ll find the Orb of Purity.”
“I’m more concerned about finding my friends,” he muttered as his foot found the first step.
The pair scaled the stone stairs for several floors, then they ran into another door that didn’t wish to budge. Even with the water
elemental assisting, somehow, they couldn’t get the door to crack.
“Looks like we’re doing this again,” he groaned before turning his leg to check on his injury.
“Can you aim a bit farther past the door this time?” she sighed as DeVante took her in his arm while placing a hand on her summoned creature.
“And wind up inside a wall? I’d rather risk the same approach as last time. Okay, here we go.”
+3 Blink!
35/100!
They appeared in the middle of another hallway, thankfully without any obstructions piercing his body. Dozens of enchanted stones were in place, leaving the tunnel lit as though daylight poured through a dozen windows. Carefully they walked the hall, which dumped them out into a massive opening that reminded him of the current Nagarian Temple. However, when they arrived, they found the room quite occupied.
“DeVante,” she gasped, clutching at his arm. “Something terrible has happened here.”
11
The discovery stole his moment to take in their surroundings. With his heart pounding, he hurried to the thick of the mess, his eyes flickering about in search of anything familiar. Dozens of bodies, perhaps more, were scattered upon the stone floor. Seven, perhaps eight of them were Undead Drow, the rest consisting of Deadlights.
DeVante nearly tripped as he slid between a pile of Deadlights and a Drow. When he turned to see what’d caught his toe, he found deep grooves in the floor, four, in fact, at least six inches in depth.
“What could make such marks?” Kisha gasped, her golem playing sentry just outside the massacre.
“I think I’ve a notion,” he muttered, recalling the demonic beast that Eezai had summoned during the battle with Viven. “My group was definitely here, but. . .”
“DeVante!”
He whipped his head around to find her trembling with her hands over her mouth, her black eyes staring at something just beyond a pile of Deadlights. Panic set in as he neared, though quickly fell away when he found the source of her worries.
Two of the Naga guards lie on the ground, both with a series of gashes in their flesh. One was the male Jorja had been pretending to find enticing, the other likely the same that’d carried Eezai through the sea. The blood upon their skin was nearly dried, meaning the fight had occurred several hours ago, perhaps before he’d passed out.
“I’m sorry,” he managed, feigning concern. “Were you close with them?”
“I wasn’t permitted to be close with any of them, were I honest,” she sighed, leaning into his side for comfort. “But these two were never hurtful toward me.”
“We shouldn’t stay here,” he muttered, pulling her into his arms while looking about the vast chamber.
The room was tall, like the Nagarian Temple, with a Naga statue in the middle, the same hideous appearance as the one he’s seen from the outside. The statue stood in a pool of water that was recessed into the floor, with circular stone steps leading down to the edge. There was a crack in the lip, permitting a small pool to flood onto the steps, and the pots surrounding the scene had seen their plants wither long ago. A set of stairs lie beyond the statue, same as the other temple, but the surrounding walls held far too many open doorways for him to find comfort. If none of them were locked, then there was no telling how many undead creatures lurked about, free to attack them at any moment.
“Which way to the orb?” he asked, giving her a good squeeze before letting her go.
“The top floor, I believe,” she sighed, her hand absentmindedly passing over Perry’s head while she continued to stare at the bodies. “Have you no concern for your friends?”
“I’ve a great deal of concern for my friends, which is why we’re pressing on,” he replied, already taking a few steps toward the stairs. “If they fled, then they’ll find safety in the Nagarian Temple.
However, if I know my friends, they’ve moved on to obtain the orb.”
“That makes sense, I suppose.”
Part of him was depressed that Lahwanta wasn’t lying on the ground before him, but the fact that she lived through the battle meant she could be questioned when he got his hands around her throat. The more time that passed since the initial incident, the more he hoped she was a rogue, and not part of some elaborate coup to overthrow the High Priestess. If it were the former, then he could pass it off that the female Naga had something against Sha’Kurians, a hatred he could relate to, almost forgive. If it were the latter, then his friends were in grave danger.
The pair ascended to the next level, which Kisha assured him was nothing more than meeting rooms for the Naga and delegates from other nations. Part of him wished to ask if there was anything of value on this floor, but the need to find his friends, or the orb, greatly outweighed his greed. With a nod, they continued to the second floor, which was where the stairway ended.
“To get to the upper levels, we’ll have to find the next set of stairs,” she informed him, cautiously waving Perry about in search of movement. “Should lie toward the end of this hall.”
“And what a hall it is,” he groaned, noting dozens of doors lying between them and the end. Like the chamber below, most of the walls consisted of enchanted stone, so dark shadows weren’t a concern.
However, the first set of doors they approached hung open, leading him to tighten his grip on the bow.
“Let’s take a peek into each of these,” he whispered, nodding toward the ajar door. “If there’s a handful of targets, we take them out.”
“And if there are dozens?”
“We run back to the stairs, pick them off while we flee.”
The first room with the ajar door proved to be another meeting room, with little more than a long table, a dozen chairs, and a variety of decorative items on or along the walls. Seeing nothing of concern, nor value, they pressed on.
The room across the hall mirrored the last, though a few skeletons had crumbled against the far wall. Kisha said something beneath her breath before offering the bodies a bow, leaving him to suspect they were Naga.
“I thought we’d find more,” he admitted, checking their back while she offered her prayer.
“There were fortified rooms in another chamber, which is where most the Naga likely fled,” she replied, giving him a nod that she was done. “Others may have simply opted for the sea.”
“Seems a bit cowardly, if you ask me,” he sighed, checking the hall before he dared step into it. “I would think they’d been more concerned with protecting this place than fleeing from it.”
“Naga are noble, to a point,” she admitted. “They are quite bold when the conditions favor them.
However, once the tide turns from their favor. . .”
“They turn their fishy tales elsewhere?” he replied.
The next few rooms proved fruitless, though they’d crossed an Undead Drow trapped in a small room and opted to end its miserable existence. More useless rooms, then they found the stairs behind a door on the right side of the hall. DeVante was about to check it out when he saw something glowing dimly.
“What’s in that room?” he asked, nodding his head toward the lone door at the short wall of the hall.
“The library, I believe,” she replied, itching at her arm as though the thought gave her hives. “Why?”
“Let’s just say I’m compelled to check it out,” he sighed and made his way to the door.
The door creaked loudly when he pushed it, causing his face to cringe and a chill to zip down his spine. Kisha offered him an annoyed look as he opted to open the door all the way, just in case not all of the undead heard their approach.
“Perhaps I could find a horn for you to blow?” she teased.
