Chapter 99: 100 (!) : The sum total

The lashing vampire swipes out towards them, the pale skin of its tautly pulled face stretching far too far to the sides, as it lashes towards Jubilee who Fresh pulls away in that last second, knocking both of them off balance. The two of them hurtle down towards the right, falling down to the cobblestones of the plaza next to each other. Screams fill the air, as people have now long since started looking out of their windows. Their attraction was likely drawn to the scene by the sounds of the rampaging destruction, stemming from the shop, as the golem tears its way through the last of the wall holding it back in place.

Fresh isn’t really sure anymore which screams belong to the strangers and which are her own, or if any of them come from the flailing mass of necks that escapes from the dungeon-gate, as a collection of rotting meat which presses itself forward, coming out through the red portal as a writhing swarm. A hand pulls her to the side, a voice yells in her ear to get up, but she doesn’t. Fresh sits there, watching as the mass of gnashing, razor teeth presses their way out of the red mist towards herself. With her other eye, in the corner of her vision, she watches as the golem comes closer and closer, barreling like a titan in the midst of a maddening onslaught.

It’s an odd thought at a moment like this. But all she can think about is how much work it's going to be to sweep up this mess. Jubilee is going to be so mad at her.

Jubilee…?

Jubilee. Fresh blinks as she thinks, turning back to look at her friend who is tugging on the collar of her robe, trying to get her to move, shouting words at her that she isn’t really processing.

Oh.

Coming back to her senses, as that single second finally comes to an end, Fresh jumps up to her feet and lets Jubilee pull her away from the gnashing teeth that snap tightly shut where she was just sitting. Fresh knows that she needs to do something. They aren’t going to make it otherwise. They’re too slow. She’s too slow. The girl lifts her free hand, holding it out behind herself as she points a finger towards the center of the gate, running as her friend drags her along behind them.

There is no serpent this time that emerges from her finger; no vague, nebulous fog that leaves her body. There is a web, a series of purple threads, each the diameter of a needle that would be all but invisible, if not for the strange nightborne reflections which shimmer off of their long strands, as they stab into the dozen necks reaching their way and bore into their undead flesh. The writhing mass stops moving, and then, it descends into chaos as the vampires latch on to each other, ripping and tearing at their own long, winding throats as they descend upon themselves, like hungry animals fighting over a carcass. Several of them latch on to the golem as it barrels past the gate, their dagger-like teeth cracking and shattering into jagged forms as they break them on the hard ice.

A glass wall shoots up behind them and Fresh listens as several chunks of decapitated meat slap down against the stones. She listens as the wall shatters not a second later, as a massive, lumbering tower of ice bashes through it as if it was nothing, sending slivers of glass and ice flying out in all directions, the two materials entirely indistinguishable from another as they fly through the air.

They aren’t going to make it.

She isn’t sure for how long the bells of the distant church have been ringing now. She isn’t sure for how long the plaza has been filled with screams and with people rushing out of their doors now. It has only felt like a few seconds, after all. But she has become aware of it all now. The dark night has been set alight by magic of all kinds already, by movements of all kinds, as people scurry out of their houses, scampering, running away like rats into the night. She watches as the houses empty themselves, as the faces that had been looking out of the windows not a few moments before, now quickly bolt out of their doors and not a single one turns back their way.

All she feels is a deep roar rumbling through the world, all she feels is herself suddenly flying, as something smashes against the ground just behind her, as something gigantic and icy cold grabs her leg, its large hand wrapping itself around her limb entirely as it tosses her into the air down the other way. Hurtling her frail body with violent force back across the plaza. She hears a scream, but doesn't know who it belongs to. Everything is all mixed up.

Everything is all mixed up.

Fresh loses all sense of orientation as she spirals wildly through the night. All she feels is that she’s flying. Flying back towards the rubble of the store that they had just run away from. The wind rushes through her hair, over her face as the girl accepts that she’s going to die now, in just a second when she smashes against the stones. She hopes Jubilee isn’t going to be mad at her for it.

She closes her eyes and everything goes black.

“Why don’t you just finally curse it, dummy?” asks the spirit of the fountain rather abruptly.

“Huh?” thinks the girl, not sure what it means as she feels the water surrounding her. The golem? She can’t curse monsters, can she?

“Not the golem! The lantern,” hisses the fountain. “Why do you think I told you how to make it? Curse it already.” The fountain lets out a long, loud yawn. “You’re so frustrating.”

“But it’s for Basil,” says Fresh, listening to her voice reverberate around the black ocean that she finds herself inside of in her thoughts.

“If you die, you’ll never see Basil again.”

“Huh?”

“People will see you die here. They’ll ask questions if you come back tomorrow. So you’ll have to leave. Curse the lantern and you’ll live.”

“But I don’t have it.”

“Open your eyes,” commands the voice of the fountain. “Now.”

Fresh’s eyes shoot open, a black dribble running down the sides of them as she sees the stars above her head through her blurry, wet vision, as she feels the still same constant surge of the wind on her face from being flung only a moment ago, as she feels a soft, shining presence floating above her face, flying with her, having broke free of its chain. A crude depiction of a guardian angel hovers there, surrounded by a gentle, white light that caresses down and washes over her gestalt. Its glow replaces the absent touch of the moon on her skin.

“Sorry,” thinks Fresh in that instant, as she lifts a finger towards the lantern, feeling the ground come closer and closer. The tip of her finger grazes the lovingly smoothed metal body of the thing flying at her side and she ruins it.

[Cursed Lantern](High)

A magical-lantern made out of iron and a waterproof layer of crystal glass. The inside is filled with an enchanted liquid that glows with ever-present aura, day or night

Imbued with a deep-set dark energy, this lantern radiates pure emotions and repels any form of light.

Effect: The leaking, corrupted energies of this lantern steals 20 HEALTH from any HOLY monster within 12 meters once every minute.

Quality Effect: [Demon’s Tether] - The lantern doesn’t need to be held and will float at your side.

Curse: [Dying Light] - The lantern may steal and contain up to 100 HEALTH. All stolen HEALTH may be used to absorb any incoming damage. If the lantern isn’t recharged within twenty-four hours, it will absorb life from everything else around it until satiated. Absorbing damage will not trigger a combat menu.

Weight: 0.66kg

Color: Dark Purple

The world sets alight with a purple shine, the lantern twists and spins as the metal seems to warp before her eyes while she plummets to the ground. The last thing that she sees is the depiction of the guardian angel breaking apart, the engraved drawing moving as if it were ripping its own wings to shreds with its own two hands before moving its hands to tear at its face and eyes. The light that leaks from the silhouette turns into a drip, into a trickle of splashing black-water that leaks out like pus from a dribbling cyst.

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Fresh crashes into the ground and feels her body and bones crack, the breath in her lungs flies out as it is expelled from her together with the force of her life.

She wheezes as her body comes to a sudden stop, as she feels something wet trickle out of her insides, as something in her body, that was ripped apart and leaking out into her own stomach, suddenly ceases to do so entirely, pulling itself back together as if nothing had happened at all. Where is everyone? Isn’t there supposed to be a town guard? Where are the adventurers? Where’s the church? Why isn’t anyone coming to help? Or has it just not been that long yet? Has it only been a single minute? Two? Three? She doesn't know.

Fresh looks up, looking as a silhouette runs past her crumpled body, she lifts a shaking hand, reaching for the hem of their robe, getting them to stop. Fresh’s eyes run along the brand new cloth boots, made with extreme effort and kind passion. Her gaze runs up the red fabric of the cloth robe that she holds tightly onto, as she feels something in her broken spine pop back into place, as she feels the thundering of the golem marching back towards her, apparently still having her in its sights.

Fresh looks up at the red-wizard, the woman’s arms are full of a heap of potions, the matte glass glistening in the dull, heavy light of the floating lantern.

The not quite dying girl mutters. “Please, help Jubi-”

“Let go of me!” A strong, muscular leg kicks her in the ribs just beneath her shoulder and Fresh’s arm lets loose, a hot pain shoots up her body as she watches the red-wizard run away as fast as she can. Her menu chimes, appearing next to her, but she doesn’t look at it. As her own numb, tingling arm flops to the ground, she sees the empty, small leather glove held tightly in her grasp and squeezes it tighter.

Her eyes watch the red silhouette vanish into the distance. I thought we were friends?

She watches the wizard, their very first customer, run away. Something cold feels like it is flowing through her stomach. Fresh watches as dozens of familiar faces run past her, down the street towards the entrance plaza. People she has seen every single day since they had opened the store. Not a single one of them stops to help her up, not a single one stops to do more than fight the odd vampire that has escaped their tussle at the dungeon-gate, and then only to buy themselves enough time to keep moving.

I thought we were friends?

The muscular dark-elf rushes past her and Fresh knows that she sees her laying there, her eyes meet hers as she looks down at her broken form for only a second. But she doesn’t stop either, she simply looks away and keeps running, acting as if she had never seen anything at all.

“I thought -” Fresh crawls backwards, feeling some life come back into her legs and body. The lantern might have absorbed the damage, but the healing process seems to be rather slow and she still very much feels the hurt of the impact that is only slowly fading away now.

Fresh sits back upright, feeling something cold and smooth just behind herself and presses herself back against it, still unable to get up on her legs that don’t respond like she needs them to. She realizes that it’s the glass sign for the store that they had made together. Somehow it had survived the destruction. She looks across the plaza and she stares at the golem, at the monstrosity crashing against the stones as it marches back towards her. She looks at the writhing, lashing masses of meat and teeth that tear into each other and any person unfortunate enough to get caught in their midst. She looks at the magic flying this way and that way, searching for a hint of glass in the chaos, searching for a hint of her friend. What did she do? She hopes nobody gets hurt because she was so stupid.

Is that why nobody is coming to help? Because of her?

Is it her fault? Is she a bad person? Has everyone just been pretending to like her this entire time? Fresh isn’t sure if she’s crying or bleeding as she feels her face trickling with wet. Is Jubilee okay? She hopes Jubilee is okay. The lantern floats at her side as the golem steps closer, its giant shadow looming over her as the monster raises its massive fist up into the air.

What was this all for then? What was the point? This life? What exactly did she spend her time here building, if her hands are entirely empty at a time like this?

What’s even the point?

Fresh closes her eyes as the golem smashes its fist down towards her and a second later, the world around her erupts into a crystalline shattering, as she feels her body become covered in ice, as the light of the lantern is blocked out of her vision.

It’s all so loud, the fighting, the screaming, the trickling of the fountain, the shrieking sound that fills the air, the furious roar of the ice-golem. It’s all so loud.

Wondering why she isn’t dead yet, Fresh opens her eyes and stares at the broad, metallic surface that has appeared before her. A giant, dark-cobalt armored back, belonging to a man who can’t quite contain his excited, heavy breathing.

She breaks, her voice shattering like so much ice and glass. “Why aren't you running?!” howls Fresh, feeling her shoulder painfully snap back into place from the restorative magic of the lantern.

The stones beneath his boots crush into brittle fragments as he presses his weight forward against the golem, as he holds the blade of the sword, which runs lengthwise down the span of the monster’s arm, firmly in place. His eyes shine out of the shadowy gaps of his metal helmet, as he turns his head only slightly to the side to look at her distraught face.

“I kill monsters,” is all that he says, as he presses the golem back a step.

Razmatazz

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