When the last dark elf keeled over dead, it unveiled the sight of Remy standing, clenching both his swords and giving Guy and Averyl the sourest frown he’d ever seen. Remy twisted around to retreat. Guy flashed ahead and—
His MP ran out, Guy got trigger-happy with Elemental Rain.
Guy returned to normal and had to chase after Remy.
Remy ran to the airship’s staircase as a second wave of dark elves emerged from the lower decks, likely having finished dispatching the crew below. A conceited grin spread on Remy’s face as he moved with his backup and inched their way to the aft end of the deck.
Guy and Averyl fell back and fast.
“Guy! You’re safe!”
That was Rachael. She held her Enseigne’s Divine Saber with one hand, buzzed her wings, and glided across the gap to land next to Guy. Rachael’s eyes moistened as if she were going to cry.
“Tempeste told us what happened . . .” Rachael continued.
“Mon ami,” Ulysses said as he ran to Guy. “What the hell happened?”
“Good question,” Guy said and turned back. Remy and his dark elf friends were on the run to their position. “What the fuck happened to dark and light elves hating each other?”
“Remy made a deal with the fae and the dark elves,” Tempeste said. “He had the captain and crew killed, took command of the Sirocco, and . . .” Tempeste paused before adding. “. . . it would appear Remy wants me to assist him.”
Guy signaled to his friends with his head to follow him. They ran from Remy’s goons, stopping only when they ran out of airship deck to run across. He stared at a few New Svartálfar airships circling the Sirocco. Their cannons were out, but not booming their projectiles.
“They stopped firing . . .” Guy said.
He looked at the other airships flying around, confirming what he noticed down below. The dark elves and their imperial allies wanted the Sirocco intact. They were likely willing to send additional troops to capture it. Even if Guy and his companions took down Remy and the dark elves with him, there were more dark elves that could board the ship and replace the fallen. Then there was the fae sitting on their airship.
They had to leave.
And it seemed Averyl knew that because before Guy said anything, the fae princess tossed the strength potions she looted. Rachael, Xanthe, and Zuran caught a potion each.
“Drink these strength potions,” Averyl said to them. “Strength will increase your maximum flight time and allow you to carry someone while in flight.”
Xanthe and Zuran drank their potions. Rachael just stood there, wincing as she brought the potion to her face and narrowed her eyes. She read the information screen that appeared.
“Useable by land-dwellers,” Rachael revealed. “Shit.”
“I don’t think you’ll need it, Rachael,” Guy said to her. “You’re a Berserker right now with a Medic subclass.”
“Hmm, that’s true,” Rachael said. “I might already have the strength needed to carry someone.”
Rachael tossed the spare potion to Xanthe and Zuran. Xanthe’s swift hands, fueled by her high agility, caught it before the Mage. She grinned and stuffed it into her inventory.
Three faes and a shadow angel stood ready for instructions, so Guy gave it to them.
“Xanthe, grab Henrietta, Zuran, grab Kam. Rachael, take Ulysses. And Averyl . . .” Guy grimaced and looked at his friends again. His math was wrong, very, very wrong. “Tempeste, one of us is going to have to stay behind.”
“What?!” Rachael cried out. “Why?”
“There’s only four of you who could fly,” Guy said. “And five of us who can’t. You four will have to leave someone behind, then double back quickly to get the last—”
“Leave me,” Tempeste volunteered.
Guy looked at the incoming horde of dark elves led by Remy. Tempeste stood with her electrified Spellsword Saber drawn to challenge them alone, her blonde hair blowing in the winds.
“Might be best, lad,” Kam said. “Tempeste can stay and draw the dark elves away from our escape.”
Guy shook his head. “No.” He gripped the Svartálfar’s Halberd and took three steps toward Tempeste. “I’ll stay. The rest of you, flee to the beach in the mists.”
Rachael reached for him. “Guy, wait!”
Guy didn’t wait as much as he wanted to. Tempeste was planning to sacrifice herself to her psycho ex-boyfriend when Guy had an escape plan for her. And she needed to escape more so than him. Why? Because the dark elves charged toward Tempeste. Behind the dark elves was Remy, raging out and pulling on his hair. Remy didn’t want Tempeste killed and pleaded for the dark elves to leave her be. The dark elves weren’t listening. Remy made a deal with the devil and it fucking backfired.
Guy waved his Svartálfar’s Halberd in the air and screamed as loud as possible to the dark elves. “Hey, motherfuckers!”
Multiple dark elves eyed him during their charge.
Guy had their attention, so he shouted at them with a cheeky smile. “I’m the one you want!”
In a rage, the dark elf Spell Lancers angled their lances’ tips at Guy.
“Yes, that is right. Attack him!” Remy laughed and pointed at Guy. “Never mind Tempeste, I shall deal with her! Kill the Paladin and make sure she does not give the sword to him!”
She does not give the sword to him. What the fuck is he talking about? Nijana? She already has my sword. Sounds like Remy knows that . . . hell sounds like Remy knew Nijana was going to take it.
It’d been a while since someone wanted to take Asteria’s Sword from Guy. There was a reason Remy seemed concerned about what happened to Guy’s sword.
And Remy revealed why.
“Soon, I shall become the Paladin this world needs, not this star-man.”
Guy would ponder his words later. Right now, he had to get Tempeste to leave with the others. He tugged on Tempeste’s wrist.
She shoved him off. “Guy, run!”
“I’m not leaving without you,” he said.
Tempeste faced him. “You must leave! Please!”
Guy looked back and didn’t see any of his friends waiting at the edge of the deck. They all flew to the beach. Guy pulled Tempeste to the railing and peered over to confirm that—
Multiple feet thumped on the wooden deck.
Remy and his dark elf goons marched slowly, covering all escape routes. The only place for Guy and Tempeste to go was overboard. Guy looked over the edge again, searching for signs that at least two of his flying friends had finished dropping the others off at the beach and were flying back to check on them. It was his and Tempeste’s only means of freedom.
The dark elves’ marching boots stopped. They had surrounded them with lances pointed. Behind were Mages with their tomes open and glowing, just waiting for an excuse to get closer and cast a spell.
Remy stood among the dark elves, twin swords drawn and repeatedly demanding that nobody hurt Tempeste. Tempeste spun to put her back to the dark elves, facing Guy as the winds continued to rustle her blonde hair.
“I told you, Guy,” Tempeste said. “You have to go. Remy is a problem I will deal with.”
Guy heard the buzz of fae wings; their rescue was nearby. He just knew it. They just needed to hold out longer. “Tempeste, listen to me—”
“Not another word.”
Tempeste leaned forward, hesitated, then aligned her lips with Guy’s.
She kissed him.
Guy flushed as her lips pressed against his. Soft lips of a sword-swinging elf princess. She held the kiss for a long time, so long that Remy dropped his blades, dropped his jaw in shock, then fell to his knees. The dark elves stopped to look at Remy, likely wondering what was wrong with him.
Tempeste was smart. She kissed Guy to distract Remy, which in turn distracted the dark elves.
Her kiss distracted Guy too.
Averyl swooped behind Guy, wrapped her arms around him, then yanked him up as she flew away. Averyl pulled Guy away from Tempeste’s
lips, her smiling face looking up at him as she waved goodbye. Tempeste knew Averyl had buzzed behind him.
Guy reached for Tempeste as Averyl hauled him through the skies.
“That was a dirty trick!” Guy yelled down to her.
“Please live,” Tempeste yelled back to Guy. “And tell my father of Remy’s treachery!”
There were multiple lance tips pointed at Tempeste, forcing her to face them, drop the Spellsword Saber to her feet, and raise her hands in surrender.
What happened next, Guy couldn’t see. Averyl had carried him too far away from the Sirocco. The fae princess flew away as fast as she could, and for a good reason.
Six New Svartálfar airships repositioned their cannons, took aim, then erupted with a thundering boom at a flying fairy holding a human space traveler.
Averyl’s epic escape sent her soaring and turning through the air, while evading cannonballs to their left and right. All Guy could hear other than the cannons were the winds rustling their attire and hair.
A cannonball ended up skinning Averyl. The force of the projectile sent Guy and Averyl tumbling through a plume of white mist and spiraling out of control to the surface.
Crash.
Guy and Averyl slammed into the beach, the impact forcing them to fall and roll over each other. They fell upon each other in a compromising position. Guy was on his back, and Averyl was on top of him wearing a Temple Dress that had suffered a wardrobe malfunction. The top half of her dress fell off. Averyl’s breasts had slipped free, and the impact had pushed Guy’s right hand to cup her left breast. It wasn’t until he felt the flesh and tender pink nipple pressing into the palm of his hand was when he realized what had happened.
“Oh, fuck!” Guy panicked and pulled away from her breast. “I am so, so sorry!”
Averyl laughed and rolled off Guy. She sat up to adjust her dress, pulling it back up and over her cute and perky fairy breasts.
She never stopped laughing about it.
“What’s so funny?” Guy asked. He had just groped her, accidentally, of course, but still.
Averyl twirled to him, eyes shut, smiling, with her hands behind her back and motioning her body innocently. “It has dawned upon me that I am cut out for being the princess who saves other princesses.”
Guy sat up and dusted the beach sand off his pants. “Really?”
She giggled and opened her eyes. “Yes. I just saved you!”
“I’m not a princess.”
“No, you are a Paladin.”
“Currently stuck on Spell Lancer.”
“And if I can rescue you, I can rescue anyone.” Still giggling, Averyl walked across the fog-covered beach, eying the growth of nature ahead. “Let us see if we can find where the others have landed.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Nijana’s buzzing wings came to a stop when she lowered herself to the deck of the imperial airship, Willow of the Empire. Dozens of imperials withdrew their weapons the instant they realized her feet touched the deck. They lowered their blades as Serzax strode past with a grin that stretched across his face.
“Careful,” Serzax said to the imperial fae. “We do not wish to harm our business partner, now do we?”
“My apologies, milord,” a Berserker said, bowed, and placed their two-handed axe to the back of their armor.
Serzax waved for the imperials to step backward and give him and Nijana space to chat. He looked at Averyl’s alter ego. “Did you retrieve it?”
“Yes, I have the Paladin’s sword, as promised,” Nijana said. “But . . .” But it sounded like Remy wanted his men to capture me and take it too . . .
Serzax made a half wince and raised his eyebrow. “But what?”
“. . . but why did you need me to take it?” It was a stupid question to ask.
Nijana was a thief who got into Guy’s head. She was the perfect candidate to steal Asteria’s Sword. But she had to change where the talk was going. The words Remy spoke during her escape from the Sirocco made it clear. He wanted Asteria’s Sword, and he knew Nijana was there to take it and give it to Serzax. She opted to withhold that information from Serzax. Whatever deal Remy and Serzax had made in secret, Remy planned to betray him.
“Was it not obvious why?” Serzax asked her.
“You are a higher level than Guy,” Nijana said. “You could easily kill him and take Asteria’s Sword for yourself.”
“I could have,” Serzax said. “But doing so would also kill me. Asteria’s Sword is brimming with light magic. Touching a sword like that with my bare hands would kill me. It was a mistake my son made, a mistake I will not make.”
“If the Paladin’s sword will kill you, then how am I supposed to give it to you?”
“Hold on to it for now,” Serzax said. “We shall arrange a trade later.” The Nox Knight walked to the imperials ahead, the ends of his black cape rippling. “Right now, I have to finish our operation here.” Serzax stopped two armored faes with greatswords strapped to their backs and whispered, “Watch her. She is free to roam the ship, but nothing else.”
The armored fae nodded and turned to keep their eyes on Nijana. Later, multiple Rangers populated the deck, acting as if they were on patrol but secretly keeping track of Nijana as she wandered about on the deck, waiting for Serzax. She assumed the Rangers were snipers to shoot her if she tried to fly away. Nijana was under house arrest while she waited for the dark elves to finish their capture of the Sirocco.
She wished she had known Remy was interested in Asteria’s Sword beforehand. Selling the sword to Remy rather than Serzax might have been a better choice.
Since Nijana was free to roam, she descended to the airship’s lower decks as her ears kept track of two Berserkers tailing behind her. She walked through various corridors in no particular direction and heard the same two pairs of sabatons clank on the wooden floor. They were following their orders. She stumbled across the change rooms used by the imperials and the hovering astral cluster, the massive, large crystal used to switch one’s class or subclass.
She reached for the cluster, looked behind, and wasn’t surprised to see the two armored faes watching her.
“Um, do you mind?” She gestured to the astral cluster. “I want to switch back to Bard, but . . . you know.” She pulled on the Flame Priestess’s Robe that was set to fall from her body. “Can I get some privacy?”
The two men grunted and stepped out of sight. Nijana touched the cluster, brought up its screen, and selected Bard as her main class and Cleric as her subclass. A flash of light brightened the room. The Flame Priestess’s Robe magically peeled itself off her pale skin and fell to the floor, its matching undergarments vanishing.
She was naked and took her time to put Averyl’s stolen Flame Priestess’s Robe into her inventory, then slip into the Marauder’s Frill Dress. Nijana constantly reminded the guards outside not to enter. They obeyed her, and she wasn’t sure if it was her charisma doing it or them being honorable men. In any case, she walked her naked arse to a storage chest to open it. More like she tried to open it as the imperials kept it locked. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair, bent it in the right direction, and then used it as a lockpick.
Click.
The chest unlocked for her thieving hands that searched it for something good. The imperials kept various accessories, weapons, and armor stored in the trunk for the crew. Nijana found Mage robes, Berserker armor, Ranger jerkins, and . . . and at the very bottom she pulled out unworn Bard equipment.
She viewed its stats.
Autumnfall Songstress’s Skirt [Cloth Armor]
Rank: B
Defense: 7 Magic Defense: 30
Charisma: +3 MP: +30 Healing Potency: +3
Sigil Space: 9
Requires: 106 Charisma 77 Wisdom
Much better than the Marauder’s Frill Dress and clearly designed to suit the needs of a Bard using a spell casting subclass. The empire probably wouldn’t mind her taking it, not like they had any Bards on their ship.
&n
bsp; She slipped into the outfit. It was a white off-shoulder top with a black corset around it and a red skirt. When she put it on, a black frilly leg garter flashed into existence around her left thigh along with thigh-high black boots. She felt a pair of black lace panties and bra materialize on her as well.
Nijana looked at the exit. The two men still believed she was naked, so she helped herself to the other goodies in the chest: asteriarite and sigils. The empire loaded it with loot. This was the ship’s armory, and their locks did fuck all against her pick. There was one weapon that stood out.
White Espada [Rapier]
Rank: C
Attack: 20 Healing Potency: 13
Charisma: +1 Wisdom: +1
Asteriarite Slot: [EMPTY]
Asteriarite Slot: [EMPTY]
Requires: 121 Charisma 110 Wisdom
Do I even have the stats to use this?
She quickly checked.
Wisdom: 116
Charisma: 142
Nijana sighed in relief, then smiled as she wielded the White Espada with one hand and gave it a few quick test thrusts.
“Are you about done?” The sabatons of the two men clanked. They returned to the armory. They didn’t even wait for her to answer, and it left her compromised. The two guards gasped and saw that she had gone through their stuff. “Who gave you the authority to open that?!”
“Serzax did when we spoke,” she lied, smiled, and waited for her newfound charisma to take hold of their minds.
“Oh,” the guard said. “I was not aware you were allowed to.”
It worked. Nijana kept the big grin. “I’m on the team, so why not, right?”
“I suppose that makes sense,” said the second guard. “Anyway, we should return up top. I would imagine Serzax wishes to trade with you by now.”
Mirror Princess: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 2) Page 45
