Chapter 38: Chapter 38 – No Trash Talk

It was a simple task: eliminate one enemy, and Mireille would be freed from his ability. Fayette felt annoyed, to be honest. It was like her class was itching just from the presence of a noble. Is being a [Maid] with no master really that bad? I should hurry this up.

Mireille was looking over the scene, and her eyes stopped at the warehouse wall beside them. “Fay, did you have an extra explosive left over?”

“I do—the one.”

“Can you give it to me?”

“You have an idea?”

“The start of one at least.”

Fayette quickly dug through her [Apron of Holding] with one hand, while keeping an eye to the situation in front. Their feather-capped pursuer was not making any moves. He seemed happy to let the smoke around his allies dissipate before making any advances on them. He had all the time in the world with his ability after all.

Finally, Fayette got her hands on the bottle, and handed it to Mireille. “Here. The activation reagents are in the attached pouch.”

The [Seamstress] took the bottled bomb, and began fiddling with it. Three [Guards] managed to step out of the smoke, coming to stand next to the leading one. He seemed satisfied with his group and took a step forward, sneering at Fayette and the others.

“What kind of sorry lot is this? A [Maid] and a few lost girls? You are brave to waste my night with this.”

Fayette quirked an eyebrow at the man. “I’m surprised you are resorting to trash-talk,” she shouted back.

The man smoothed one of the feathers on his helmet as he frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Usually, trash can’t talk at all—Frankly I’m impressed with you!”

His face reddened, and he took a step forward, gripping his sword tighter. “You—”

That was when Mireille threw the bottle. It smoked as it flew in a clear arc, and an explosion blasted out right in the leading [Guard’s] face, strong enough to crack a hole into the warehouse wall.

The other nearby [Guards] were lucky to be just a few steps away, and only got thrown onto their backs as [Shield] skills activated and broke. The main target though—he just stepped out of the smoke as if nothing had happened, the feathers on his helmet not even one bit scorched.

“You dare? You dare lay a hand on I—Florinandia, Third [Guard captain] of Palogne, and grandson of [Lord] Aumont himself?”

Fayette felt a few jitters at how nonchalant the man was about an explosion right by his face, but kept it from showing on her face. “You can’t be that important if you’re a third [Guard captain]!" She shouted back.

Strange, I feel like shouting snide remarks a lot more. Is this part of my [Maid Martial Arts]?

“Why you—”

Fayette tuned out the rest of his yells and turned to Mireille. “You saw that, right? He took it like it was nothing. Do we have a plan?”

“I’m not sure... I can try something, but you’ll have to keep him and the others occupied for a few moments. Think you can manage?”

Fayette took a quick look at their rapidly-reddening target, then turned to Olivia. “Can you keep the [Guards] off my back for a minute? I'll try to handle him one-on-one.”

The [Doctor] nodded. “That blast got the lot concussed—I should manage. Be careful with the man. My [Diagnosis] is not showing many signs of old injuries or ailments on him. He hasn’t lost many fights.”

Fayette turned to eye him again. “That just means he lacks experience.”

She took a step forward. Then she started running.

The man finally quieted and braced for a defense, sword in hand. A foolish effort, Fayette thought. After all, who would willingly bring a sword to a broom fight? The advantage of long-range was quite clear.

She used [Spicy Cooking] as she ran, threw the conjured pile of red at her broomhead, and activated [Sweep Dust] at the same time. It was time to give her spice whirl mix another try. A vortex formed, and Fayette shifted her broom so it touched the ground, allowing her to gather more and more dust as she approached her target.

Two more [Guards] stepped free of the smoke, still disoriented by the blast. Fayette didn’t look at them, or check her sides to see that her companions were following—she trusted Olivia and Mireille enough. Instead, she kept her eyes steadily on her own target, who she decided to name feather-hat for the sake of brevity.

Feather-hat did not seem nervous, the only emotion he betrayed was scorn; the expression of someone looking at his inherent lessors. Fayette felt just a bit offended, to be honest.

As she got closer, she got a closer look at him. The man had a scraggly, unkempt beard, and a uniform stained by spilled ale. His black trousers may have fooled the less keen of eye, but as an experienced [Maid], she could see the signs of how long it had gone unwashed. Was he drinking somewhere, and our stunt interruped his night? Such a man could look at her with scorn, could claim birthright for status, and live a life of debauchery off it? Fayette could not let him win, her pride as a [Maid] alone demanded she beat him down.

She got close, and flung her spice-dust vortex at him, hoping to wipe the sneer of his face.

He stepped right through the attack, as if it couldn’t touch him one bit. Fayette followed up with a strike at his face, but the man stepped through that too, broom passing through him as if he were a ghost, and raised his sword for a thrust. What kind of ability is this supposed to be?

Having stepped through her broom, feather-hat's sword was very close to Fayette's face, but she managed to twist her broom up into a block. The sword however just phased right through it again, continuing at the arm that was now in the way. How am I supposed to fight this?

Fayette let it hit her arm, and felt a sting as the blow struck her. Her [Maid Armour] held, just barely, and she didn’t take a cut. The impact was painful enough on its own. Her sleeve frayed, weakening her defense further, but she managed to hold on to her broom.

She removed her left hand from the broom, used [Cutlery Control] to call a knife into it, and stabbed it at her foe’s face. If he decided to get this close to her, she would take the opportunity.

The knife neared his face, but then he just... stepped right through Fayette altogether.

It felt very uncomfortable. Before, the distances had been smaller, so she hadn’t really gotten a proper good look at the process, but now she was certain. Movement was the key somehow. He had never just sat still to take a hit, and always moved forward when the blow came. Was it a movement skill then? Not a fast one certainly. It took him a full second to pass through Fayette and emerge on her other side, enough time for Fayette to turn around.

He was stepping forward again, this time swinging his sword towards Mireille, who had been right behind Fayette. Oh no you don’t.

He had given Fayette enough time to turn around, and with Fayette came her broom. She hit him on the back, and this time there was no phasing through it—she struck true, and his armour clanged. He shuddered forward for a second, his sword blow went off-course, and Mireille managed to dive past him, and get through the cracked wall to inside the warehouse. That was what she was after?

Feather-hat spun around, but Fayette moved over to block the passage into the warehouse. “Hey! I’m your opponent here.”

He snorted. “You think your skills can block my [Relentless Pursuit]? Fool.”

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Fayette’s eyes widened. Did this guy just tell me his ability’s name? How dumb is he?

Fayette swatted her broom at him in a low blow, careful to keep out of his range, but he didn’t advance this time, and only seemed to be playing for time—waiting. Waiting for what?

Fayette took a quick glance to the side, and saw that while Olivia had managed to get a few [Guards] to the ground, many more were still on their feet and advancing on her. She would be overwhelmed soon.

Feather hat noticed Fayette’s glance and grinned. “Getting worried, are you? Throw down your arms and I may let you live.”

Fayette forced all her growing panic down, and crushed it down into resolve. She could not lose faith now. She felt tempted to run her mouth, but kept quiet. No need to ruin a good surprise. If the man failed to see the significance of letting Mireille inside the warehouse that was fine with her.

Warehouses in textile mills tended to store one type of thing, and a certain [Seamstress] had recently received enlightenment on the topic of capes. A cape just like that one that suddenly flew out of the hole, right at the [Guard Captain’s] face.

He activated his ability and stepped through it, of course, but it was the thought that counted.

“Mireille! That won’t do any good against him, go help Olivia! I’ve got this.”

“You sure? Alright.”

Mireille crawled back out the hole, this time carrying a veritable trove of different cloths. She took one look at the scene outside, then ran to help Olivia, another piece of cloth flying out to tie down [Guards].

Fayette let a bit of smirk show on her face, just enough to rile up her opponent even more. His face was dark, and Fayette could already see him preparing his ability for a dash forward. Fayette obliged, and thrust forward with an easily predictable broom hit.

He began phasing through it, appeared on Fayette’s other side, then began dashing for Mireille at full speed. A bit too fast for Fayette to catch up, which was why she had already gotten out a bottleful of her [All Purpose Cleaner]. She threw the small bottle at him, praying that her deduction was right.

He’s already moving towards Mireille, his target. If I oppose his pursuit, he can phase through. What about if I help him along?

He didn’t phase through this time either. The bottle struck true, hit him on the head, burst open, and the [All Purpose Cleaner] was sent spraying out, a good bit dripping on his exposed nape. It began sizzling, and he screamed, stopping his mad dash. Fayette went for the chase, already gathering a new vortex of spice and dust on her broom.

Sadly, he only slowed a bit. He had already gotten some bottle of his own out, and he threw a dash of the red liquid on his nape, healing the injuries. Fayette cursed. Potions—of course. Damned rich folk.

He took a look behind him, frowned at Fayette’s approach, and began circling to the side. Is he trying to put Mireille behind me again? No-no, not a chance at that.

“Mireille! Stay behind this guy! We need to keep him between us.”

The [Seamstress] was rather busy tying up [Guards] with a fluttering of “capes”, but did manage to move in the direction Fayette indicated. Enough targets in that direction too.

A flash of indecision went through feather-hat’s face, as he looked between the [Seamstress] who was rapidly tying down his [Guards] and the [Maid] who was approaching him. He gritted his teeth, then turned fully to Fayette. Fayette felt a barrier break with her next step, and a force set over her.

“[Trespasser ward]. [Mark Trespasser].”

Oh? He’s abandoning Mireille and targeting me now? Fine with me.

Fayette held her broom low, kept running at him, and kept expanding her spice-dust vortex. Feather-hat took up his sword for a guard pose, and readied himself. Fayette got close, thrust the vortex at him, and he began phasing through it.

Then Fayette pulled the vortex back to right in front of her, and held it in place.

Previously, she had thrown it, letting feather-hat pass right through, but now she made a gamble. The spice and dust was striking her too, and her [Maid Armour] dissapeared in an instant, as the grime took to her apron. What’s your play now then? Can’t exactly pass through this if you aim to “pursue” me.

His play turned out to be, well, nothing. He materialized back fully, right in the middle of the vortex, and struck his sword forward. The sword grazed Fayette's thigh, cutting through cloth to draw a deep line of blood. Fayette winced at the pain, but then feather-hat started to scream. His nape had been healing from the [All Purpose Cleaner], but blisters still remained, which made the spice getting into them hurt quite a bit. Well, so did the eyes, nose and other spots too.

He was stuck there now, right in the center of the dust and spice as it roiled and raged against his skin. Fayette smiled, then threw a fork at his eye.

He roared out in pain, and collapsed to his knees, bringing up his hands to shield his face. His sword clattered down to the ground. Him kneeling had brought his face temptingly low, and it had been some time since Fayette had felt noble-face on her boots.

She held the broom and vortex in place, braced her bleeding thigh, loaded up a kick with her right foot, and smashed it right at his head. He collapsed down.

Fayette moved the broom down, letting the spices grind against his exposed skin, then kept stomping on his hea, heedless of the sting she felt on her own wound. His struggling didn't last long, and when he fell limp, Fayette stopped her [Sweep Dust]. She bent down, taking a knife out of her apron.

Surprisingly, he was still conscious. One eye blinked open, taking in Fayette's approach. His raspy voice had none of the earlier sneer to it now. It was a quiet, strenuous thing.

"P-please, I can pay-"

Fayette blocked his mouth with a finger and bent down lower, kneeling on top of him. "Shhh, quiet now. Thanks for giving away the details of your ability, fool. You should have heeded my words—trash has no place talking.”

She plunged the knife in his neck, one final finishing strike, and pleading turned to gargles of blood.

[One piece of trash cleared, Nice job!]

[Progress towards next level: 40%]

She spent a second enjoying the sensation of knife splitting flesh, then realized the outside world had gotten quite quiet. Oh, right, there was a whole other fight going on.

She raised her head up, and saw a field full of collapsed and struggling [Guards], bound in thread or cloth. She also saw the stares she was receiving from Mireille and Olivia, who were standing right by her side. She carefully turned to them.

“This was a situation where it was alright to kill a noble, right?”

Two sighs answered her.

“Well, it depends.” Olivia asked. “How fast can you run?”