“Take her by force, if you must,” Emeraldal said. “Averyl cannot perish here, or the emperor will have our heads.”
Veronis retrieved a hefty casting tome from the back of his robe. He was on his Mage rather than Cleric. “I fear Serzax’s wrath more than the emperor, to be honest.”
Averyl clenched her fists, shut her eyes, then counted in her mind.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
She opened her eyes and held the Flame Priestess’s Scepter.
One.
Averyl dashed past the two, pushed Veronis into the wall, and was surprised her delicate hands had the power to do it. Right, she was using a Medic subclass. It gave her a marginal increase to her strength. Emeraldal fired her arrow at Averyl’s feet. She was trying to cripple her.
The first arrow sank into the wood, the second and third went through Averyl’s knee. She could still run despite that—
Then came the fourth arrow, a critical hit.
That one made her bleed and inflicted the cripple debuff.
Averyl stopped to cast Heal Up, cleansed herself from the wound, then continued through the burning corridor of the ship. Veronis got up and flipped through the pages of his tome as a casting circle rotated on the ground below his feet, the sigils of Magus, Earth, and Corruption glowing on his arm. Veronis was planning to root her in place with a growth of vines.
Averyl was right.
Wiggling jungle vines sprouted from the deck and twisted tightly around her legs, binding her. Averyl clenched the Flame Priestess’s Scepter and shut her eyes as blue and green energy flowed. She was casting Heal Up—
An arrow struck her left elbow, interrupting the cast.
Averyl tried again, only to have another one of Emeraldal’s arrows hit her. She got the spell off with a second cast, making the vines fade. She leaped to the side to evade another arrow volley, then turned down the corridor when the incoming fae troopers held their axes and swords to her. Averyl coughed for a moment as the blackened smoke entered her lungs. She entered a corridor burning in flames. It was her escape.
She cast the spell Regeneration, placing a heal over time buff on herself, and ran into the wall of flames in the corridor. Emeraldal and Veronis stopped their pursuit and lowered their weapons, coughing uncontrollably when the smoke hit them.
“Ah, bloody hell!” Emeraldal roared.
“We must go around!” Veronis shouted.
“I told you, you should have come as Cleric!” Emeraldal said, as they backtracked. “You could have healed us while we ran into the fire!”
“Ugh, you always make me go as the healer!” Veronis bellowed as the two moved from Averyl’s position. “I just wanted to try another class for once!”
Averyl smiled as she pushed through the flames. They would not risk chasing her without a healer. She glanced at her information.
Averyl | HP: 431/609
The flames were removing 130 HP per second, as Regeneration gave her 95 HP per second. Averyl stopped to cast Starlight Recovery, granting her 165 HP, then continued through the burning corridor, ignoring the heat and the fact it covered her in painful flames. Each time she paused to use Starlight Recovery, the pain faded and restored her skin to its usual paleness, only for it to seer and burn again.
Averyl found herself on the top deck of the dark elf-operated airship, out of the flames and far from the imperials searching for her. She trotted past the dead dark elves and soul crystals, made it to the guardrail, and spread her wings to fly—her burning wings. Averyl was still on fire. As long as the burning debuff remained, she could not fly.
She tried to cast Heal Up but could not.
Averyl was at 2 MP, having used all of it to keep herself from burning alive. She waited for her racial trait to recover it, at 1 MP per second.
“I do not see her!” Veronis yelled. “Check the other side.”
Heavy footsteps thumped the deck. The imperials’ search for her was drawing them close.
Averyl checked her inventory and found no MP potions. Of course, she had run out during a time like this. She had no means of recovering MP other than her passive fae racial trait.
Little by little, her MP rose. . . 5. . . 6. . . 7 . . . 8.
Almost there. Seconds later, Averyl had enough MP, Finally.
Averyl cast Heal Up, and a swirl of light cleansed her body of the flames. Her wings were no longer sore and charred. She spread them from side to side and dove off the burning and crashing ship.
The gust of air rushing past cooled her body and blew off all the sweat that had built up. She spread her arms out, buzzed her wings, and soared above the ocean, flying under the ship to hide from the searching eyes of Veronis and Emeraldal, then ascended toward the Sirocco.
A human man was falling from the Sirocco and spiraling to the ocean. Averyl sped to the falling human to get a closer look at him. It was Guy.
Why is Guy tumbling down like this?
Humans had a racial trait that reduced the chance of knockbacks, and Paladins had a skill that increased that. It was unlikely his luck was so bad that the battle had knocked him off the ship.
Averyl flew close enough to view Guy’s information.
Guy (Spell Lancer) | LVL: 17 | Rank: B
Guy was a Spell Lancer. He was a Paladin when she had left to join the assault. What in Asteria’s name happened?
She swooped down for him. Doing so was more straightforward than Averyl thought it would be. She simply stopped fluttering her wings and put her arms at her side to dive like an eagle descending to capture its prey. Gravity brought Averyl to Guy faster than her flight.
Guy’s tumble allowed him to look up at the incoming fae princess with her hand held out to him, her wings sprouting in preparation to fly again.
“Take my hand!” she yelled during the fall.
Guy raised his left hand to her right; their fingertips were a mere inch away. She almost had him. And then she did. Averyl’s hand clasped his and he gripped it tight.
“I fucking hope you’re legit . . .” Guy mumbled.
The sight of the blue ocean had grown closer. The two were still falling, despite her wings moving. Guy was too heavy, and his weight was bringing the two down to their deaths. She lacked the strength needed to pull him during flight. The only thing Averyl could do was keep her wings fluttering to slow their falling speed.
Guy looked down, panicked, and flailed his legs. “Why are we still falling?!”
“I do not have enough strength to carry you!”
“Just let go of me.”
“No!”
“Goddamn it, Averyl! Don’t throw your life away to save someone. That’s my job—”
The two plunged from the skies faster and tumbled about. Averyl still held his hand, and it allowed her to keep her gaze level with his.
“Now we’re falling faster!” Guy roared. “Why?!”
Averyl looked at her flight time.
Flight Time Remaining: 0 Minutes 0 Seconds
Though her fatigued wings were a good indication of that.
“I have run out of flight time!”
They stared at the ocean together as it drew near. This was it. Averyl pulled herself closer to Guy, embraced his frame, shut her eyes, and screamed in fear. She felt him hold her waist and pressed his forehead against hers.
The two hit the surface of the ocean.
Splash.
Averyl and Guy vanished below the water as the waves created by the splashdown subsided. It was just the calm ocean now as the battle in the skies raged on and cast shadows of the airships on the water. Bubbles floated to the surface moments later, and then Guy and Averyl’s heads arose, gasping for air and wiping water away from their eyes.
“Holy shit,” Guy said as he floated through the waves. “I can swim . . .”
“Same,” Averyl said as her limbs waved about to keep her afloat. “I never received lessons, but here I am, able to swim. It must be the e
ffect of the affliction.”
“Right,” Guy said, nodding his drenched head. “I never took sword lessons, but it put that knowledge in my head, anyway.”
“It must have done the same for swimming as well,” Averyl concluded.
“Then let’s swim someplace safe.” Guy looked and pointed ahead. “Over there.”
She rotated around in the water and looked at what he pointed out. It was a burning airship that crashed and slowly sank. It was the airship she, along with Rachael’s party, boarded and raided.
“That will have to do for now,” Guy said. “Should keep us out of the water until it sinks.”
“My flight time is recovering,” Averyl said. “It might recover faster if I can rest on the deck of that ship. After that, I should have enough energy to fly again.”
Guy and Averyl swam through the ocean and toward the crashed and burning New Svartálfar airship.
She double-checked her flight time.
Flight Time Remaining: 0 Minutes 54 Seconds
She was right. It recovered slower so long as she was treading the water. She had to be resting on land . . . or the deck of the crashed airship.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Averyl had saved Guy. She was the real fae princess since Nijana would have left Guy to die. Averyl updated Guy on what happened as the two swam to the fallen New Svartálfar airship, its flames casting an orange glow on the water’s surface. According to Averyl, she encountered Nijana on the sinking airship they were swimming too. Nijana put Averyl out with Lullaby and when she awoke, she found imperials moving in to take her back.
Guy sighed. Lullaby was a compelling Bard song once it got into your ears. He wondered if using earplugs would prevent himself from falling prey to its magical tone. If only Dianna had survived the attack on her planet, Mennaze. She would have been at Guy’s side and playing that song against their enemies.
The two swam to the ship, found a place they could pull themselves up to its deck, sat and waited for Averyl’s flight time to recover. Guy sat far away from her just in case it was Nijana playing another trick. It was hard to tell now. Sure, Averyl’s name appeared above her head when he examined her, but that was only because his mind, synced with his astral circuits, perceived her to be Averyl. His mind wanted her to be Averyl and wanted her to be safe and in his arms.
Both Averyl and Nijana had Cleric leveled too, making it hard to keep track, and the charisma boost Nijana no doubt got from using Bard as a subclass for her Cleric likely manipulated Guy. It’d explain why he never made the connection that Nijana, posing as Averyl, wore the Flame Priestess’s Robe, which Guy knew was missing. Nijana’s allure twisted his thoughts for a few.
The fae princess seated with Guy was a level 20 Cleric, however, wearing the Temple Dress. This was her for sure. Averyl pulled out a black feather from her inventory and kissed it for good luck. The feather was important to her. She slipped the feather back into her Inventory and monitored a second screen listing her flight time.
He hoped she was recovering her flight time faster because he felt the ship lower into the ocean, little by little.
“What’s your flight time at?” Guy asked.
“It is . . .” Averyl narrowed her eyes at the screen. “3 minutes now.”
“Is that enough?”
“No, it is not, especially with your weight.”
“Hey now! You callin’ me fat?!”
Averyl gasped while rapidly shaking her head. “Oh, no, it is just—”
The ship sank more, causing the two to slide down the deck. Guy held Averyl steady, then used his free hand to grab ahold of the railing. He looked back and winced at the deck inclining toward the ocean. The ship was capsizing. Guy gestured to the ship’s aft end, raising up.
“That will be the last part to go underwater!”
She glanced at their last hope. “Then let us get to it!”
The two climbed up the slanted deck, making their way past tumbling crates and kegs while keeping their hands on the railing to prevent themselves from falling into the water. Above, the airship’s battle had grown silent as the New Svartálfar airships and lone imperial ship surrounded the Sirocco.
Did they capture it?
Guy grunted to himself. This was all Remy’s fault. First, he pushed for the battle to happen, then he pushed Guy over the edge after Nijana stole Asteria’s Sword and forced him to roll as a Spell Lancer. There was no way their luck was that bad. It was a setup that Remy was plotting for a while, quite possibly after the duel the two had.
They climbed to the airship’s highest part, held the railing, and looked to the drop. The area Guy and Averyl had sat at originally was below the ocean. The ship was still sinking, and Guy wasn’t in the mood to determine how long he could swim before his joints grew tired.
“My flight time has recovered a bit,” Averyl revealed.
“Cool, fly us to safety,” Guy said. “I saw a beach in the mist. We should land there then figure out our next move.”
“But,” Averyl said and looked aside. “I am not strong enough to carry you.”
“What if I held onto you?”
“Still too much weight,” she replied. “I would need to raise my strength to bring you along.”
“Fuck these fucking game rules!” Guy raged. “Well, shit. Just fly away then and save yourself. I’ll take my chances in the ocean.”
The two looked at the mists shrouding the beach ahead. It was still a decent swim toward it, and Guy knew he wouldn’t have the energy to swim that distance. His best bet was flight, something he couldn’t do, only Averyl could, and she couldn’t bring him along.
If she were a Berserker, that would have been different. That class has the highest base strength.
“There must be another way,” Averyl said, looking about the doomed ship. She glanced at a dead dark elf corpse leaning against the mast. “And I think I found it.” Averyl held his hand to guide Guy to the dead elf. “Come with me!”
The two made it to the corpse, and Averyl searched its carcass for loot. She found nothing because whatever items the dark elf had was still in their inventory. Averyl sighed.
“This man was using strength potions when we fought him,” Averyl said. “I was hoping to find them on his body.”
Guy gripped his Svartálfar’s Halberd and grinned at the weapon’s pointed tip. “Allow me.”
He sank the Svartálfar’s Halberd into the body repeatedly until it vaporized, leaving behind a soul crystal and loot. Averyl reached for the potions it dropped, the strength potions she talked about, stored them in her inventory, and held one bottle in her hand.
“Okay, that works for me,” Guy said. “Now, let’s get the fuck out of here!”
Averyl popped off the potion’s cork, then drank its ruby fluid using two hands. The bottle vaporized when she finished. Averyl looked at her hands flowing with incredible strength, even though they didn’t look like it. She got behind Guy, wrapped her arms around his waist, held him to her torso, and buzzed her wings.
Their feet left the surface of the sinking ship and floated from it. Averyl was flying and holding him steady in her grip, then flew toward the beach he talked about.
“Wait,” Guy said. He spotted the Sirocco above. It was still in one piece, and they saw no signs of anyone else flying in the skies. Rachael and her team might have boarded. “Take us back to the Sirocco.”
Averyl looked at the Lumière Kingdom airship. “Did we not agree that it was likely compromised?”
“Yeah, and Rachael might be there, hell the others too. We can’t abandon them.”
“Very well,” Averyl said, then flew up and toward the Sirocco.
Guy kept his eyes on the Sirocco and away from the ocean. He never realized how much he was afraid of heights until that moment. It was a long way down, and he still hadn’t stopped shaking about the fall he endured earlier.
Speaking of that fall. “Careful,” he said. “Remy pushed me over the edge.”
&nbs
p; They were above the Sirocco’s deck and looking down at the dead aeronauts, soul crystals being gathered by the dark elves, and a party of them making their way to Tempeste. The blonde elven Spellsword stood to defend Henrietta, Kam, and Ulysses. Beside their party were Rachael, Xanthe, and Zuran, fighting off another group of dark elves. It relieved Guy to know everyone was alive . . . for now.
Averyl dove to the deck with Guy in her arms. She let go of him and he fell to the battle. As Guy plunged, he held onto the Svartálfar’s Halberd, aimed the tip for a dark elf Mage, and crashed onto him. The Mage hit the deck with zero HP. Guy stood from his kill and removed his Svartálfar’s Halberd out from the dead Mage, then brought it down a few more times to make sure that the Mage wasn’t going to get resurrected.
Averyl landed behind Guy then cast Starlight Recovery on their injured friends, turning the battle’s tide.
Averyl and Guy’s arrival drew the hateful glare of the one leading the dark elf’s charge, Remy.
“What the fuck . . .” Remy sneered as he looked at Guy. “You are supposed to be swimming with the fish!”
Guy chuckled. “I got bored.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Guy and Averyl, star-dweller and fae princess, stood back-to-back, eying their enemies that lay at their feet. They were a talented team during the fight. Since Averyl used Medic as a subclass, she would leave Recovery Orbs on the deck. And as a light spirit, Guy literally just flashed his presence over the orbs and grabbed them to recover his HP. When it came to recovering MP, Guy tapped into his Spell Lancer’s bag of tricks.
Siphon MP
Drain a target of their MP, transferring it to you. (Requires Become One with the Elements to be active.)
Potency: 100
Cost: 20 MP
Guy kept his MP high by casting Siphon MP on the Mages, granting Guy more time to remain as a spirit, and forcing them to stop and fetch MP potions.
Since the Mages weren’t much of a threat, Guy dispatched the Spell Lancers using a combination of Elemental Rain to send bursts of searing light down upon the dark elves, or straight-up flash in front of them to attack, his weapon now made of pure light. He had to be careful with Elemental Rain as it cost 300 MP to use. If Guy wasn’t quick to cast Siphon MP, his MP would drain and force him out of the light spirit form. Averyl had changed her sigil set up to allow her the usage of the Chastisement spell. Dark elves suffering from the insane damage over time curse got most of Guy’s focus.
Mirror Princess: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 2) Page 44
