Chapter 61: Book 1: Chapter 23 (Part 3 of 6) POV shift to Anastasia Ruslanovna

Anastasia Ruslanovna

I heard the door to the school locking behind me immediately after the door slammed closed.

“I hate this stupid fucking plan,” I muttered, and rubbed my sore ass.

My bum still smarted from another round of spanking the captain insisted on delivering a few hours ago.

<Yes, you’ve said so on many occasions over the last ten hours> Quixbix chuckled in my head.

“Well, tell the captain how much I hate his stupid fucking plan again,” I bitched at the cheeky little shit.

Captain. I couldn’t even think of his real name or any of the many other more suiting epithets for him since his order. Him, with his smug grin, wild untameable hair, sculpted muscles and sexy, smouldering, eyes.

Damn it, I was fantasising about him again. Even after he compelled me to enact this ridiculously stupid fucking plan. I looked out at the car park in front of me. The Fomorians hadn’t been very alert, too long in the sun I supposed.

<Snap to it> Quixbix laughed. <You wouldn’t want them to smell a rat.>

At least once I was twenty-five metres away from the Captain, I wouldn’t have to listen to the quest imp’s taunting.

“Oh, dearie me,” I screeched to get the sea-monsters attention. “I can’t take it anymore. I must get away.”

Stupid fucking plan.

Here goes.

I jumped off the steps and kept wailing like a dumb movie blonde and started running for a tiny gap in the Fomorians line towards the harbour area with my arms flailing in the air.

A gap so very small I had no chance of making it.

<Your acting skills could use some work> the imp chuckled.

I ignored him and kept running for the impossible escape.

Stupid, stupid, fucking plan.

I never made it to the tiny gap before the Greater Fomorian’s ridiculously oversized harpoon punched through my back and erupted out the other side. The coral tip doing a fantastic approximation of a chest-burster alien.

Fuck me, but that hurt.

Bojemoi! I should have asked the captain to rescind his other order from earlier on, the one where I felt all pain. The oversight wasn’t my fault it was his fault, distracting me with his crazy ideas and big swinging dick tucked away in his overly tight, crotch bulging, pants.

Damn it, I can’t stop myself, even now, skewered on the world’s largest kebab stick.

Stupid, stupid, stupid fucking plan. Stupid fucking captain!

The force of the harpoon threw me forward like a rag doll and I hit the tarmac hard. That hurt like a son of a bitch too. I barely had more than a few Hit Points remaining when I finished sliding painfully across the car park to the waiting fish-fuckers.

I coughed up blood and gasped for air but only managed to gurgle blood like one of them.

The captain had even taken what paltry armour I’d been wearing off so none of the damage was mitigated. I only had seconds but that didn’t stop the smaller fuckers pouncing with obvious glee and jabbing me full of holes with their bone spears.

My eyes started closing and the world went black.

Blink.

Until it wasn’t.

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I stepped forth from the shimmer of my Dungeon experiencing that weird sense of displacement that always accompanied that first step. It was bizarre that my avatar felt it too, but in a way, I was glad. It made me feel more like a real person and not an, admittedly very smokin’ hot, ruby.

I shook my head and rubbed my hands all over my body, to be sure I was intact once more. Everything was where it should be, even the fun bags out front. I undid another button on my shirt to really show off the puppies.

That’ll teach the captain, missing out on a perfect leering opportunity.

I was standing under the stairwell on the lower deck of the Marena’s Mercy.

Well, what do you know? The captain’s stupid fucking plan worked.

The plan to let my avatar be killed in a horribly gruesome manner while under his orders to re-materialise at the earliest opportunity. A plan I was very much not in favour of.

The captain had theorised that the special properties of the Soul Collar should allow me to return without him being present, which was normally required to bring my avatar back. That irritating and smug imp had happily agreed.

The pair of them will be so full of themselves when they find out they were right.

I checked the time on a watch we had taken from Luca’s people that had been stored in the Hold. Almost seven hours had gone by, which was also as predicted. It matched the amount of time required for my avatar to recover all four hundred and ten of my natural Hit Points.

Okay, it was time to enact part two of the stupid fucking plan, which along with part three wasn’t quite as irritating or as stupid as part one.

First, I paid the pathetic prisoners a quick visit in the Brig and topped up my ship-based Drain pool which was now a little over six thousand. Which was good as I would need all of it to pull this miracle off.

Then I rushed up the steps to the upper deck and moved to the end of the corridor by the locked cabin door. I could sense there were ten of the nasty fish-fuckers befouling my ship-body and a further thirty ‘hiding’ in the bay waters where we were moored.

I snapped my fingers and the cabin door swung open.

The Fomorians’ big, black, dead-fish eyes swivelled towards me at the unexpected motion coming from on the ship.

“Get off my beautiful, sleek, ship-body, you gross motherfuckers!” I screeched at the top of my lungs.

The disgusting fish-fuckers gurgled at one another and then one of them gurgle-shouted while shaking his spiny spear thing in the air and they rushed towards me.

I turned tail and ran back down the corridor. The Fomorians were hot on my heels but I was too swift for them. I passed the end of the corridor and into the stairwell alcove, halted, turned, and snapped my fingers again.

The change I enacted at the end of the corridor didn’t block it precisely, but my command shifted the dungeon entrance from its place beneath the stairwell to right in front of me at the end of the upper deck. I made sure the stonework left no gaps and the entire ingress into the stairwell alcove was covered by that distinctive shimmer in the air.

The Fomorians either didn’t notice or didn’t care as they charged headlong through the shimmer and into my dungeon.

One benefit of being claimed by the captain was that some of the rules I’d been bound by as a wild dungeon no longer applied. Allowing entrants to retreat once the run was sealed and confirmed as an instance was one of those rules I could now ignore, and my ship-body technically counted as the waiting lobby I was otherwise obliged to provide to give potential delvers a chance to change their minds.

Once all ten Fomorians had rushed through, I sealed the run as my first instance.

I shifted my perspective to the thirty in the water and they had reacted to the sentries’ cry on board and were clawing their way up and over the taffrail.

It wasn’t long before they had scrambled up and like their stupid slimy brethren before them, got over-excited at the sight of the cabin door being open and followed their kin heedlessly down the corridor into the waiting maw of my dungeon.

I had to split this group into two separate instances of fifteen. Any more of them and we ran the risk of them completing the run and coming out buffed up. Mobs could gain levels and gear just like people and we didn’t want that.

Three separate instances were my current limit, so I couldn’t use this trick again until one of the groups was completely dead. That could take a while if they figured out where they were and stopped rushing around. However, it had been enough to clear the fuckers blockading the ship.

I strode through the shimmer from the other side, unaffected. I was the dungeon after all.

Exiting the upper deck, I closed the cabin door and sealed the ship again. There were a few hours left until dawn which is when the captain and the rest of the crew wanted to make their move. I had until then to gather supplies for part three of the stupid plan which increasingly looked like less of a Hail Mary and more like a well-executed flea-flicker with every minute.

Time to raid what was left of the shops.

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