“Bordeaux, what’s going on?” Guy bellowed. “Why aren’t we picking the others up?!”
“The New Svartálfar fleet boxed us in!” Bordeaux snapped. “Those fuckers are not making it easy to get close. Do you think your winged friends have enough flight time to make it back to us from here?”
Guy looked across the massive drop to the ocean below and at the airship Rachael had boarded to cause a ruckus. He saw nothing but a lot of flak in the air between them. Cannonballs, Mage spells, Ranger arrows, and Gunner bullets. It was moving back and forth between the Sirocco and the countless enemy ships.
“I don’t think we should risk it,” Ulysses said, having joined them. “One of the Mages might blow them up mid-air—”
“Got a pixie incoming!” yelled a frightened aeronaut.
This was it. Guy grabbed Asteria’s Sword, met with his party, and moved to where the panicking aeronaut elf had screamed. The empire sent their fae across the gap without them or Arn seeing it coming. Guy made it to where the aeronaut had shouted and looked ahead at the horizon.
There was a fae flying to them, a fae with a woman’s haircut, wearing a long red and fiery robe. It was Averyl.
“Stand down!” Guy yelled. He used his weapon’s blade to force everyone back, giving Averyl space to land.
She came down to the deck, huffing and puffing, a little bruised but alive. Nobody else joined Averyl. She was the only one who returned. Guy didn’t like that feeling at all and went to help her up.
“Averyl, are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes . . .” she whispered and held the edges of his coat.
He helped her to her feet. “What happened?”
“My double,” Averyl said with terror in her voice, her eyes peering into his. Her gaze was hypnotizing. “Nijana was on the ship waiting for us! I escaped, but I don’t know about the others.”
His heart sank.
Guy moved to the guardrail and examined the burning New Svartálfar ship as it slowly crashed to the ocean. He didn’t see anyone fly away from the plummeting airship. Looking ahead once more, Guy narrowed his sights and glimpsed three figures flying and doing everything they could to dodge the aerial crossfire and losing a lot of HP.
Zuran and Rachael were flying behind Xanthe, who was in the lead, being the swift flying shadow angel that she was. They escaped the ship, bringing relief to his nerves. The pursuing imperial fae behind the three undid Guy’s relieved feelings.
Remy ran to them while wincing at Averyl. “Unless she is going to provide support, then get her off the deck.”
“Take me down below until I recover my mana and flight time,” Averyl said.
Guy held Averyl steady, helped her to the entrance to the lower decks, ambled down the staircase, and carried her through the ship’s corridors. He kept his eye out for the chamber with the astral cluster. There should be extra potions for her to use in its bottomless chests. After five minutes of searching, he found the room and sat Averyl on the bench. Guy opened the storage chests and searched it for potions.
He found a Greater HP and MP Potion, carried one in each hand, and returned to the exhausted princess. “Here, take these. It should help you recover faster.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said, then huffed and puffed. “Just—”
And Averyl went limp and collapsed. Guy dropped the bottles to grab and hold her slender body steady before she fell. The fallen blue and red potions hit the ground and turned to a plume of vaporizing mist.
As he held Averyl in his hands, Guy peered into her mesmerizing face, unable to look away. He looked at her long enough that her information appeared above her head.
Averyl (Cleric) | LVL: 10 | Rank: C | HP: 100%
“Wait . . .” Guy drawled.
“Hmm?” she moaned in pain.
Her HP was full, and she was a level 10 Cleric. Averyl was not in any pain, nor had any debuffs either. She didn’t need the potions, and when Guy looked at her cleavage, he noticed the color of her robe, red like it was made of flames. It was the Flame Priestess’s Robe, the outfit Averyl lost the other day.
This isn’t Averyl.
Guy dropped her to the floor and leaped back while reaching for Asteria’s Sword. He pulled it out and held it forward in a defensive stance. “Nijana . . .”
She laughed long and hard. Nijana jumped to her feet while shooting Guy an evil smirk. “Oh, now what gave it away?”
And just like that, Averyl’s name in his vision switched to Nijana now that his mind processed who she was.
Nijana eyed what Guy held in his hands; he did so as well. She was glaring at Asteria’s Sword and went for his weapon. Guy backed off, swung upward, missed Nijana, held the blade out again, and watched her movement. Nijana clenched an ocarina hidden within the Flame Priestess’s Robe. She played a beautiful and soothing note, so relaxing it made Guy’s eyelids heavy and his limbs weak. He fell to his knees and keeled over, yawning. His tired hands released Asteria’s Sword’s hilt from his grip.
As his eyes shut, Nijana knelt beside him.
“Cleric with a Bard subclass, in case you were wondering.” Nijana blew him a kiss goodbye, then stored Dianna’s Ocarina to her side.
Dianna’s Ocarina, she was using Dianna’s stuff against him—
Guy fell asleep, snoring.
Guy woke up, God knows how long later. He sat up, stretched, yawned, and hoped what had happened was just a dream.
The Sirocco’s decks vibrated from weapons fire bombardment. It was no dream. And so it did not surprise him to see that Asteria’s Sword was missing. Nijana must have slid it into her inventory and split. She had to have; there was no way she could wield it. At least she had the decency to leave the rest of his gear on him.
“Intruder alert! Intruder alert!”
That was one of the aeronauts running through the corridor screaming. Guy touched the cluster and changed his class to Spell Lancer, then made a quick switch of his gear and sigils. Might as well now. There was no point in being a Paladin without Asteria’s Sword. He was a Spell Lancer using a Paladin subclass and was going to be stuck as that until he got his blade back.
He left the chamber and found imperial soldiers murdering the Sirocco’s crew. The empire boarded them with assistance from dark elf Spell Lancers. He kept his footsteps quiet as he traveled through the airship’s corridors, turned the corner, and found a dead dark elf Spell Lancer. At least the crew was putting up a fight. Guy searched the corpse for loot.
Svartálfar’s Halberd [Ethereal Lance]
Rank: B
Attack: 20 Magic Attack: 40
MP: +40 Magic Attack Bonus: +2
Asteriarite Slot: [Asteriarite: Strength +3]
Asteriarite Slot: [Asteriarite: Strength +3]
Asteriarite Slot: [Asteriarite: Strength +3]
Requires: 66 Intelligence 47 Strength
It was an upgrade from his shitty Rank C lance.
Svartálfar’s Chainmail [Chain Armor]
Rank: B
Defense: 22 Magic Defense: 8
MP: +40 Magic Attack Bonus: +2
Sigil Space: 7
Requires: 66 Intelligence 47 Strength
It was a step down in defense compared to the Elite Marauder’s Breastplate, but Guy was a Spell Lancer now, and the MP and magic attack would go a long way.
He looted the dead, geared up, and adjusted his sigil set up. After that, Guy plunged the Svartálfar’s Halberd into the dark elf to ensure nobody could cast Resurrection on them, then kept the soul crystal.
Guy meandered through the corridor again, marching past walls splattered with gore, and checked his Party screen.
Guy | HP: 783/783 | MP: 470/550 | AP: 0/100
Kam | HP: 270/620 | MP: 2/425 | AP: 10/100
Henrietta | HP: 109/613 | MP: 0/0 | AP: 100/100
Ulysses | HP: 792/853 | MP: 0/0 | AP: 60/100
They were still alive, losing HP fast but alive. He had to get back to them. He had to fight to pass the fae, and they w
ere a couple of levels higher than him. Guy tried to fight them anyway, not that the two imperials who spotted him would have had it any other way.
He sized up his opponents.
Imperial Trooper (Berserker) | LVL: 21 | Rank: C
Imperial Trooper (Berserker) | LVL: 20 | Rank: C
The imperials drew their blades and snickered to each other. They knew who Guy was, knew that he killed a handful of their friends already, evaded the sentinels, escaped from their captivity, and stayed alive. And now Guy couldn’t rely on Asteria’s Sword.
Guy armed himself with the Svartálfar’s Halberd and used its shaft to deflect the imperials’ swords. Guy leaped backward, heaved his Svartálfar’s Halberd forward, aiming its tip at the first soldier, and missed. He yanked back to try again, canceled his lunge, and opted to block their swords. His weapon parried one blade and failed to stop the other from sinking into his gut.
It hurt, and Guy ran out of space to backpedal.
He was fighting two men in the corridors of an airship. The walls made it hard to swing the Svartálfar’s Halberd and use its long reach. Escape was Guy’s only option, and he found it within his ability’s lists.
Elemental Attunement and Become One with the Elements.
Guy abandoned his defensive stance, ignored the sword’s edges cutting into his chest, arms, and belly, and ignored the rapid decline of his HP.
He had to get AP fast and engaged in a two-on-one fight with the imperials in the corridors, lancer against two armored swordsmen.
Guy | HP: 281/783 | MP: 470/550 | AP: 90/100
Guy was sacrificing his HP for AP and hoped he wouldn’t regret it later.
AP: 100/100
He used Elemental Attunement, and an explosion of light attuned him to the element of light. The two imperials disregarded that and rushed Guy, hoping to deliver the fatal blows as Guy stood still—he was in the middle of casting Become One with the Elements.
A second burst of light brightened the corridor’s walls, ceiling, and floor.
Guy turned into a light spirit, shimmering with an ethereal glow. Since Guy was made of pure light, he moved at the speed of it. Guy flashed away and in between the two soldiers, then flashed through the corridors.
It cost a lot of MP to do that too, 200 to be exact. All the while, his MP trickled away each second that he remained as a light spirit. Guy wouldn’t be able to maintain the form for long.
In his light spirit form, Guy drifted up to the top deck of the Sirocco, then put an end to the ability before his MP ran dry. There was a flash of light, and he reappeared back in his physical body, leaving Guy with 142 MP. There were fae everywhere on the deck, murdering everyone. Above, a New Svartálfar ship hovered as its crew leaped off to join the fae in the slaughter of the Sirocco’s crew.
He couldn’t see his party from his location, but according to his screen, they were still alive. Ahead, Remy stood near the edge of the forward end of the Sirocco, watching the skies with his telescope. Tempeste swung her electrified Spellsword Saber at two fae Berserkers while Bordeaux hunkered behind a wooden crate tied to the deck, periodically aiming his musket bayonet to shoot the imperials.
The Berserkers Tempeste fought didn’t see Guy enter the fray from behind and thrust his Svartálfar’s Halberd through their back. He yanked it free, twirled it above his head, gave the fae another stab with it, and brought their HP to 21 percent. Bordeaux killed the fae with a headshot, aimed his rifle at the remaining Berserkers, and put multiple bullets through their armored chests. Tempeste slashed hard enough to make the Berserker spin around to face Guy. Guy speared his opponent’s chin and pushed the Svartálfar’s Halberd’s tip up into its mouth and brain. He shook off the gore and pink chunks of brain matter and addressed Tempeste.
“Did everyone else make it back?”
Tempeste sheathed the Spellsword Saber to her sword belt, shaking her head. “Not yet.”
“Ah, fuck!” Guy pulled on his hair in frustration.
Bordeaux left his cover and emptied multiple bullets into the two dead faes, permakilling them. Their bodies turned to soul crystals as the captain looked at Guy, wincing. “Why are you a Spell Lancer?”
“Because that wasn’t the real Averyl,” Guy said. “It was her double, Nijana, and she fucking stole my sword. I’m stuck on this class until I get it back.”
“I shall send a team to locate her after we eliminate these bloody intruders,” Bordeaux said, and ran ahead. “Asteria’s cunt, why are they so many?”
Guy used the tip of his weapon to point at the airship hovering above. “Dark elves are invading the ship too.” He ran to join Remy as he watched Rachael, Xanthe, and Zuran struggle to fly back to the airship. “In the meantime, clear us a path, the best you can,” Guy called back to the captain. “We can’t leave until everyone returns.”
“Do not worry,” Remy said to his side. “They shall not be coming back.”
Before Guy had the chance to face him, Remy shoved Guy up and over the guardrail and pushed him off the Sirocco.
A gust of air rushed past as Guy fell and tumbled off the ship. He saw the sky, the Sirocco, the ocean, then the sky again during the spiraling fall. And the only thing on his mind was whether a Cleric or Medic could find his body in the ocean before his LP bled away.
Probably not.
Guy spiraled to his permadeath, waiting for him in the ocean below.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Tempeste could not believe it.
Guy was standing beside Remy one second, and then the next, Remy pushed him over the railing and off the Sirocco. Remy killed him. It was no accident, as the broad smile on Remy’s face was a clear sign of that. Remy killed Guy, their only hope of ending the war between light and dark elves, and Tempeste was not there to stop Remy.
Was this revenge for the duel they had?
As the battle raged on the deck of the Sirocco, Tempeste held her Spellsword Saber tight and pointed at the new threat that showed themselves—Remy standing at the forward edge of the deck. Bordeaux aimed his musket bayonet for Remy’s head while Tempeste joined the captain. The two stepped to the traitor, Remy, slowly.
“Remy!” Tempeste shouted amidst the battle. “Why?!”
Remy showed no signs of hostility toward Tempeste. He just looked at her while holding the smile he had after dispatching Guy. “You will thank me later, Tempeste—”
“As you rot in prison!” Bordeaux interjected; his musket still aimed at Remy. “Arrest that man, Tempeste! I gave Remy no such order.”
“At once, captain,” Tempeste said.
Remy laughed. “I would not do that if I were you.” He gestured to what lay behind Tempeste and Bordeaux. “Leafblade, was it? Please relieve captain Bordeaux of his command.”
“Certainly,” said the voice of a fae man standing behind Tempeste and Bordeaux.
She spun to see a sizeable imperial Berserker bring his hands down upon Bordeaux’s shoulders, pull tight, and haul him away. Nobody had stopped Leafblade because the intruders left nobody alive. The fae and dark elves had finished the last of the Sirocco’s crew and had their weapons pointed at Bordeaux. Not Tempeste or Remy, just Bordeaux. The fae imperial Berserker, named Leafblade, carried Bordeaux off.
Tempeste returned to Remy, her face full of rage at the man she once loved. “What are you planning?!”
“I am putting an end to this conflict before more light elves turn to soul crystals,” Remy said, and stood with his hands behind his back.
“Ugh, Tempeste!” Bordeaux cried out to her.
Bordeaux tried to fight off Leafblade and got one arm free of the big Berserker’s grip. It was her only chance to end this. Tempeste ran to Bordeaux’s assistance, side-stepped to put Leafblade’s side to her, and slashed.
Leafblade’s grip on the captain loosened, freeing him. Leaping back, Tempeste found Bordeaux’s fallen musket, tossed it to him, and the two turned to deal with Leafblade and alerted the dark elf and fae soldiers.
Tem
peste swung her lightning imbued Spellsword Saber and hit the blades of Leafblade and his minions. To the side, Bordeaux ran to cover behind a wooden crate tied to the deck, gripped his musket, took aim, and fired at the imperials Tempeste wasn’t able to reach. The enemies lost HP with each trigger pull, and after ten rounds, Bordeaux gained AP and used the skill Bloody Mess, triggering severe hemorrhaging among his victims.
Half the imperials Bordeaux shot ended up bleeding to dangerously low HP, allowing Tempeste to finish them with an upward cut or cast Lightning upon them.
Sadly, Bordeaux and Tempeste had not slain enough enemies. There were just too many dark elves and imperial fae continuously leaping onto the deck of the Sirocco, replacing the ones killed. Imperial Medics and Clerics were not helping. Enemy healers stood far from Bordeaux and Tempeste’s range, casting Resurrection or Revive on the dead, and sent them back into the fray.
And Remy? He just stood back laughing with his arms crossed and shaking his head in disapproval.
The resurrected imperials shifted their gaze to Bordeaux. He was their primary target. Six fae soldiers spread their massive wings and took flight, making what looked like an enormous leap over Tempeste, across the deck, and landing behind Bordeaux and the box he had been using for cover. It happened so fast that Bordeaux was still aiming up when his target was now some place else at his rear.
The fae trapped him. Six weapons—three swords, two axes, and one mace—came down on Bordeaux, spilling his blood to the deck as fast as his HP fell.
Tempeste watched in horror as the six men cut and gutted the captain, limb from limb.
“No!” Tempeste screamed. She kicked away the soldier she fought with and rushed to aid the captain.
She was too late. By the time Tempeste arrived, six imperials had obliterated Bordeaux with their AP abilities simultaneously. Bordeaux’s bloody corpse fell over, and the stumps where his left and right arm used to be sprayed crimson gore everywhere.
The six imperials looked away from Bordeaux, locking their eyes on the elven Spellsword woman who stood ahead. The fae soldiers laughed and kicked Bordeaux’s body. It spiraled across the deck and past Tempeste.
Mirror Princess: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 2) Page 42
