Sworded Affair

Chapter 69 : Cat Out of Hell

"I don't suppose they're going to call off the siege?" Emma mused as she watched the remaining soldiers scurry off into the sunset; Antipode taking chunks out of their ranks with icy spears as they ran. "We didn't kill too many of them, all told, but we certainly gave them a bloody nose by taking out the priests."

[That would be far too easy; even if cutting their losses is a fairly realistic outcome, I don't see the trial ending on Day 6 with a message of 'Congratulations'.]

"Probably not," Emma agreed ruefully, turning back to face the castle.

She was about to call for the wards to be lowered, when Princess Astaroth raised an arm and conjured a big blue parrot to perch on her arm. The Princess waved the bird expectantly in her direction; Emma obliged, using Oversoul one more time to return to her side. Down below, Antipode finally fell still as his targets ran out of range; Emma was tempted to order him onward, but refrained upon seeing that none of the summoned undead were moving.

"That's a frighteningly versatile power," The Princess observed as Emma emerged from the bird, gesturing to the ruined remains of the first priest to die. "You would've been entirely untouchable were it not for their blessed wards."

"I've certainly had my share of fun with Oversoul," Emma grinned. "I was tempted to hide in one of the fleeing soldiers, then pop out to cause even more mayhem. Didn't pull the trigger though, seeing as you held your own troops back."

"You'd have had to go it alone if you did. I'm nearly out of mana; reanimating so many bodies takes a lot out of me, and those priests were no slouches either. I'd rather not waste a potion on the first round, not when there'll be plenty more chances for a fight."

"That's fair," Emma admitted, before a thought occurred to her. "What are you risking here, by the way? You've already passed this trial, so are you even being evaluated?"

"I'm not really a target," The Princess explained. "The NPCs will have instructions to leave me alive; that's built into the rules of the floor, so the worst that could happen there is being knocked unconscious and removed from the tower. You're the only potential threat, since aspirants aren't bound by the same restrictions, but that's very rarely an issue. Whoever is in my position is by definition further along than the aspirant in their journey; I'm no exception, so it wouldn't be easy at all for you to kill me. Possible, but not easy."

"Very rarely means it's happened at least once, right?" Emma pointed out.

"Just once, in the very early days of Scholomance," Princess Astaroth laughed. "We're talking centuries before the history of the modern Empire I've been teaching you. The aspirant and his predecessor were childhood rivals; it started out nice and friendly, but emotions got real twisted and ugly somewhere along the line. They started fighting early into the trial and managed to kill each other; starting a huge blood feud between their families after Paradox refused to resurrect the pair, calling them both imbeciles unworthy of life. The overseers started monitoring relationships between aspirants a bit more closely after that."

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"Relationship drama, how lovely," Emma sighed, before turning once more to look at the distant camps. "So what do you think is coming next? Probably not the same with more men?"

"If the commander is smart, they'll send scouts to probe for weaknesses next," The Princess mused. "Possibly assassins or other covert means, depending on who they have on hand and whether they're able to sneak through the wards. Probably best if they do this; there's nobody truly of value in this castle besides the two of us. All my soldiers in here are enchanted to obey, and even if they die I can raise them up easily enough."

"Speaking of which, what happened to the man you supposedly eloped with?" Emma asked, recalling her first briefing on the floor. "Was that another lie, courtesy of the court?"

"No, that part of the backstory was real," The Princess shrugged. "I have him enchanted and held in stasis at the brink of death. If you'd followed the original scenario, I would've sacrificed him to summon a Demon as the final boss of this floor, once you'd breached the castle and reached my chamber. Now that the roles have been flipped? Eh, I'm sure I'll find a use for him later."

---

"Well that was goddamned awful," Peter grimaced, eyes scrolling down the list of assets wounded and killed. "We didn't lose too many men, but morale took a real hit and the priests dying hurt. Five days is a long time to recruit more, even if we go down that route."

"Revenant's gotten a few new tricks since we last saw her," Jen added. "She's a proper ghost now, not to mention those massive pets of hers. I reckon she could beat the first level of the Dungeon fairly now, no need for any of that test of character bullshit."

"Probably," Peter agreed, eyes still glued to the casualty lists. "Good for her, bad for us though, while she's playing on the other side. What're the others saying for the next plan?"

"Still an even split between going full Assassins' Creed and something a bit trickier. There's talk about doing a proper survey of the surroundings, so we'll probably burn a day on that, then decide on a course of action based on the results of the survey?"

"Sounds good to me."

---

Prey had grown increasingly scarce as she approached the final redoubt. Understandable, given the lingering scent of fire and brimstone, something that would surely give pause to the vermin she hunted. Saint was not one to be deterred however, knowing that her destination promised food and power in abundance, if only she was skilled enough to seize it.

Caution, Saint repeated to herself, having seen the explosive outcome of an incautious wolf as it stumbled upon the landmines buried around the encampment.

It took a substantial effort to rein in her hunger and stick to the safe path, following the humans going in and out of the camp rather than cutting straight through in the open, but her patience was about to be rewarded in full. The scent of her mistress grew ever greater as Saint slipped through a gap in the barbed wire fencing and clambered underneath a flap in the largest tent to reach her goal at last. Not fully, because her mistress was not present, her scent leading into the tower that terrified Saint even at a glance. But that was fine, because her father was present; he would make a suitable substitute until the mistress returned. Thus resolved, Saint took a running start and jumped, clearing the bed to land directly upon his stomach.

---

"Ouch," Noah hissed, as a sudden weight lodged itself into his abdomen.

Staring down, he was met with a most peculiar sight, one that made him clean his glasses before taking a second look in case he was seeing things, but sure enough there she remained.

[Saint - Level 6 Cat]

"What the hell is this?"