Noah. Dammit, did he hear me screaming?
The rustling of Noah's bunny slippers against the dirt grew louder and louder, until finally, Era could hear him emerge from the trees. The chain strap of his Medusa Gun made a distinct clicking noise as it brushed against his crystal beads.
“Oh, thank goodness,” said Noah. “I was worried that the Sol Invictus gave you some confusion venom or something.”
“Drop the gun.”
“What?”
“Drop the Medusa Gun, then you can talk to me.”
“Era...did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?”
“Put it down, Noah!”
[Noah has unequipped the KM-115 Necrylic Ectolysis Caster.]
Once he could hear the weapon touch the grass, Era opened his eyes. As he sat up, his aching head felt even dizzier with the movement.
Noah, without the gun, knelt in front of him. A tear fell down Noah's cheek already, but Era could tell that he was trying to ignore it.
“Sorry, Noah,” he said. “I'm not mad at you.”
“Yeah, but...what's going on? We're all very worried.”
Era grimaced. How can I explain this, coherently, to Noah without having another panic attack? Option one, grin and bear it. Option two, ignore him, and be rude.
“Take your time,” said Noah. “I'm right here.”
Dammit, Noah, why are you so nice to me when I don't deserve it?
Wait. Third path. Show; no need to tell.
“Noah,” he said, “I'm gonna show you something, but try not to puke, okay?”
“I promise,” he said.
“No! You know how dangerous it is to make—” Stop, just be thankful. Era sighed. “Okay.”
Then, Era did something he hadn't done in months. He raised his right pant leg above the knee.
Noah took a long look over the peg leg. A section of a plastic broom handle, held together from its many fractures with duct tape and industrial glue, extended from the base. Several old leather belts formed a harness over the stump of his knee.
He raised his pant leg further. The color faded from Noah's face as he saw the skin of Era's knee. It was made of a grey, cloudy, semi-translucent plastic.
Noah's hands clapped to his mouth. “Is that...?”
Necrylic.
Era nodded. “Remember when Raphael said that the Medusa Gun should never be used on humans, and you should always aim for the center of the target? Five years ago, during the Fall of Rosencrace—let's just say someone broke both rules at the same time.”
“Era...I had no idea. I'm so sorry.”
“Don't apologize. That is, of course, unless you were secretly the one who shot me.”
“I wasn't!”
Era couldn't stop himself from grinning. “Just messin' with ya. You're too sweet for that gun. Maybe that's why you couldn't get it to work. The gun saw who was holding it, and it went all 'nope' and hid the trigger.”
Noah chuckled, blushing a little. He grabbed Era's hand and helped him up. “Let's get back, Era. Everyone's worried about you.”
“Really? After I complained the whole time, then ran off like some kinda terrified chipmunk?”
“Chipmunks have done nothing wrong,” chided Noah. “We're not mad at you at all. Besides, we've already gained more than enough experience points from that fish monster. On that note, I'm gonna take this horrible KN-50 Necrotic Ecto-Cooler, or whatever it's called, back to Prince Raphael and tell him to—”
They both froze as they saw the empty space where Noah's gun would have been.
“By Argo, I swear I put it right here,” said Noah. “Think we should look around?”
“We need to get out of here. Now.”
“Wait, what?”
“Noah, if there's even the possibility that someone stole our instant-death gun and plans to use it against us, we don't have a chance.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” said Noah, “RUN!”
They sped into the dark woods, weaving through spruce saplings. Noah tapped his staff, and the crystal on the tip gave an otherworldly hum.
[Noah — Magic Torch]
Blue light filled the woods from the crystal.
“Turn it off!” whispered Era. “They'll see us.”
“But I can't see where we're going!”
“There's already a lighting grid here, now—”
[???? — Warning Shot]
“Get down!” screamed Noah. They keeled over into a pile of leaves and twigs and covered their heads. Noah hid the tip of his staff under his belly, trying to dampen the light. He was only half successful.
Era shivered, the distinctive sound of a Medusa Gun's blast still ringing in his ears.
“Please try and stay still,” whispered Noah. “Don't want 'em to see us.”
The “'em” in question stood in front of them, and Noah let out a sigh of relief to find a familiar pair of white socks and black flip flops.
“Ah, good, it's only Raphael,” said Noah, patting Era on the back.
Noah, I appreciate it, but I'm still a little bit freaked out from hearing—
[Noah — Dispel Tension]
[Era calmed down!]
Never mind. Gods, I love that spell, but how can I learn it for myself? Is that even possible for a fencer? Questions for later.
The two of them stood up to find the gun, resting in Raphael's arms. From the light of Noah's staff, Era could see a scar of fresh Necrylic burned into the treetops from his warning shot.
“Thank Argo you found us, your excellency,” said Noah. “Era was having a panic attack, so if you wouldn't mind not shooting that thing around him—”
“Shut your mouth,” said Raphael, through his teeth. “You've done enough damage.”
“I don't understand?”
“Erasmus is supposed to lead the Chosen Three to fight the most dangerous Dark Lord in over a century, and he's too scared to use the only weapon that could give us enough experience points to stop the GU. And here you are, being an enabler to his cowardice. I cannot allow this to continue.”
Era could no longer keep quiet. “Okay, first off—”
[Raphael — Shut Up Shot]
Without taking his eyes off Noah, Raphael shot the weapon at the trunk of a nearby birch tree.
Era shut his eyes and kept quiet.
Noah placed a hand on Raphael's wrist, trying to lower the gun. “Please listen, your excellency. I've been talking to him, and Era has severe post-traumatic stress disorder from the fall of Rosencrace. One of these Medusa Guns took his leg, and—”
“I heard your conversation. PTSD is a social construct created by cowards to fish for sympathy where none is deserved. If you couldn't see that, then clearly, your truthseeing needs more practice.”
Noah's teeth clenched, and his eyes widened. The staff began to shake in his hand, causing all three of their shadows to quiver from the magic torch.
“Now, go back to the bus, friar. I'm going to stay here and have a little talk with our fencer, so that we can put all this behind us.”
Era tapped his sword, hanging on its hilt. “How about I put all this up your behind?”
[Raphael — Shut Up Shot]
He shuddered.
The next instant, Era heard a tone of voice he thought he'd never hear from Noah—
“Edicts, 4:18.”
The light from the magic torch became a harsh red. While Raphael's back was turned, Noah took his staff and landed a heavy blow on the back of his head.
[Noah — Attack]
[Critical Hit!]
[2 DMG to Raphael]
The HP loss was barely a scratch for the Prince, but the shock was enough to knock him to the ground. Noah stood on top of him, his face filled with the quiet rage you could only find in a soldier fighting a holy war. He pressed the bottom of his staff against the base of Raphael's neck.
“Woe unto the wicked man who enforces virtue, the rich man who denounces greed, and the coward who demands your courag
e,” said Noah. “Holy Luxiacon, Third Testament, Edicts, 4:18.”
Era was also floored, but only figuratively. Noah's straight-up metal when he's angry.
“Well, then,” said Raphael. “If I had doubts about this before, I don't any longer. As designated mentor, I hereby expel you from the Chosen Thr—”
“Be quiet, Raphael.”
A gentle flow of red hot energy began to seep from the crystal of Noah's staff, and when it landed on Raphael's back…
[Noah — Confound the Wicked]
…Raphael's body was enveloped by red and black plasma. Raphael tried to stifle a scream of terror and pain, and it came out as more of a high-pitched groan.
[0 DMG to Raphael]
[Raphael feels the weight of his sins!]
The waves of plasma reached the Medusa Gun, and it faded into a cloud of war molecules.
[Destroyed Raphael's KM-115 Necrylic Ectolysis Caster!]
Through the flashes of divine energy coursing over Raphael's body came Raphael's quivering arm, holding a small combat syringe.
[Raphael — Pleasure Tranq]
Reaching behind him, he jabbed the syringe into Noah's bare ankle, just above the bunny slipper.
The plasma dissipated in an instant, and the magic torch flickered out.
Noah's pupils dilated, and a gigantic, drooling grin covered his face. “Oh, Pamina...” he said. “But where are your clothes?”
He fell off Raphael.
[Noah was KO'd!]
Raphael staggered to his feet and brushed the dirt from his uniform. “This is just getting silly, Erasmus. If you actually have a missing limb from a Medusa Gun attack, why aren't you half dead from Necrylic poisoning?”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” said Era, who wasn't. Though, I've wondered that myself. Questions for la—
A blue light flickered on Raphael's watch.
[Raphael — Concussar]
Era was flung backwards through the air, feeling an invisible slab of meat collide into his chest. The chain link fence at the edge of the cliff was the only thing that saved him from falling to his death onto the rocks.
[232 DMG to Era]
He fell with an unceremonious plop onto the grass. Worth it.
Raphael ran up to him with his stun baton at the ready. “I will no longer tolerate your repeated, unapologetic, aggressively intense immaturity,” he said. “Would you rather have a beating, or a duel?”
Era drew his sword on instinct. “Duel. Any day.”
[Boss Battle!]
[Raphael ~Literally wearing 75 pounds of spy gadgets~]
Era sighed through his nose. Dammit Era, what are you thinking? Whether I win or lose this, I'll go to prison for attempted murder of royalty.
Third path! I kick his butt so hard he begs me to keep this qui—
[Raphael — Plasma Cudgel]
Crackling with energy, Raphael's stun baton extended into a club made of blue thunder. With both hands, he brought down the thunderstick toward Era's head.
CRAP, okay, uhhh, okay, hang on. Uh, quick, think of something, uhhh…use the THING!
[Era blocked the attack!]
Era threw his sword out in front of him, catching the thunderstick. He strained to hold it up.
Raphael's wrist flickered blue once again.
[Raphael — Concussar]
[352 DMG to Era]
Era was knocked against the mesh fence. This time, the fence gave out from under him, peeling out from the cliff's edge. Era was in the air, over the side of the cliff.
He closed his eyes. Don't panic. You've been in this same situation before at Mt. Colibri...right!
[Era — Blade Recall]
With a snap of his fingers, Era's sword was back in his hand in a fraction of a second. He focused on the psychic shape the sword made in his mind, visualizing a truckload of parachutes. He slowly landed on the rocky bottom of the shore, clinging onto the floating sword.
He heard the roar of the ocean below him as he stood on a wet, jagged spire of limestone. This would be a nice place to chill, if I weren't in the middle of a duel. In the distance, a Koschei Livestock barge silently carried a few thousand tons of organic waste along the coast. The wind carried a hint of the scent of the barge's piles and piles of decaying slaughterhouse byproducts. Never mind.
Looking down, Era saw a fresh, waterlogged albatross carcass, bloated from decomposition. Eww. Poor guy.
A terrible idea crossed his mind. Ah, well, Trossy here isn’t gonna need this body anymore, is he?
At the top of the cliff, Raphael held his breath. His heart raced as he gazed around the rocky shore. He couldn't see much in the dark, but the flashing glare of what he didn't find—war molecules —relieved him. Human lives were okay enough, but the Prince's commitment against murder was much more sacred and untouchable.
Raphael turned around and walked toward the forest, eager to feel the rush of incoming experience points.
[Era — Carrion Grenade]
Instead, he felt the rush of something wet and rotten bashing against him from above. It then burst open from the gaseous bloating, like a water balloon of sewage. After a few seconds of the most detestable smell Raphael had experienced in over 523 years of life, Raphael was covered head to toe in albatross entrails and damp feathers.
Raphael scrubbed his eyes. They stung as rancid, greyish red Tross Sauce™ seeped into his eyelids. And through his blurry vision, he saw—
“How's it goin'?” asked Era, hanging from the sword above Raphael.
Raphael wiped the albatross's intestines from his hair. “I thought you fencers were supposed to be honorable,” he snarled.
“Look, if we were gonna go with the fifth edition Code Duello of Rosencrace, you wouldn't be wearing socks with sandals.”
[Raphael — Thunder Concussar]
Raphael extended his watch hand, and the blue light from his watch became more of a blue fireball.
[3,240 DMG to Era]
Before Era could finish the thought, his nerves became pure electric death for all of two seconds as the plasma orb connected. When it was over, he was 500 feet further into the air, down to 1276 hit points out of 5,100, and severely annoyed.
That was not an appropriate response to a dead albatross.
Not the time, Bug Man.
Half past Vog You o'clock. Now, go back to your home planet so I can finish this.
Attempting to lower the volume of the Bug Man's begging, Era flew down toward Raphael.
[Raphael — Levitate]
Anti-grav ankle bracelets under Raphael's pants hummed with energy as he flew up to give Era a thorough mid-air pounding with the stun baton.
[Raphael — Attack]
Oh thank the Gods, he's finally charging head on.
[Miss!]
[Era — Trap Strike]
Era threw the sword in front of Raphael as he charged. Raphael's chest flashed white as he kebab'd himself on the floating sword.
[2,370 DMG to Raphael]
Of course, this meant Era had to lose his sword and hit the ground.
[Fall damage!]
[40 DMG to Era]
I don't think I thought that one through.
It wasn't long before Raphael hit the ground as well.
[Fall damage!]
[15 DMG to Raphael]
Though Era was 90 hit points away from defeat, the sight of Raphael hurt, angry, and still covered in seabird smoothie was more than welcome. But when they both finished quivering back up from the ground, the Prince did something that many thought he had long since lost the ability to do.
He laughed.
It was an awkward, throaty laugh, like an elephant seal's, and Era began to understand why Raphael didn't do it more often. Still, having never seen it once during their adventure, Era was deeply dis
turbed by this.
“Damn,” said Era. “Looks like I finally beat a sense of humor into—”
“I see what's going on here,” said Raphael. “Jealousy. Textbook jealousy. You're not actually afraid of the KM-115, you just wanted to throw a wrench into whatever I was planning out of pure spite.”
I don't know what he's getting at, but I'm 75% certain he's full of crap.
“It's only fair. I have everything you want, don't I?”
55% certain.
“Money...”
35%.
“...looks...”
70%.
“...a home...”
52%.
“...Liv is more attracted to me...”
93%, also, Liv and I are just friends.
[Raphael — Cruel & Unusual Jimmy Rustler]
“...my sister still loves me...”
[CRITICAL HIT!]
000.3A5–%%526
Era's heart sank, in such a way that he could feel something being squeezed out of it. Sadness, blended with hatred, blended with anger, with a dash of cyanide. Before he knew it, Era's sword was in his hand out of instinct. The green glow of psychokinetic energy surrounding its blade became deep, blood red.
“The hell do you know about my sister?” asked Era. The sword quivered in his hand.
“You're angry? By all means, Erasmus—ignore the voice of reason, lash out, and shut down. Let your emotions control you and do something you'll regret. Gena would agree that it's a field in which you exceed all expectations.
Neverstone: A LitRPG Adventure (The Mad Elf Book 1) Page 25
