Chapter 39: Chapter 38

Click clack. A strange new noise for Estaria, who had never worn heels before. But a soothing metronome that marked her passing and heralded her coming. The killer look of the heels didn’t hurt either, and between her new outfit and her new swaying gait, she drew eyes and attracted attention. Entering into the Witch Enclave with Filnon, there was buzz from the city and from the Witches themselves. Understandable really, given that Death Night was coming in a week. A wild day in which the worship of Khaine was spread across the city. Every city did it differently, but this city was close with it’s Witches, so they were respected and their beliefs more wide-reaching than normal.

 

Es wasn’t sure what to do about that, honestly. She did her training, talked to her friends, motivated Fukuri to measured passion, but questioned her involvement in the whole thing. She was not a fan of Gods in any vein, so Khaine didn’t get a pass just because he wasn’t an Empire God, but the Witches loved him, and she loved the Witches. So, should she give him a try in this whole Death Night business? She couldn’t decide, and it was kind of a sensitive topic, so she didn’t want to ask one of the other Witches just in case they got offended by the idea. 

 

There were no fights today, because they were apparently importing something worth fighting, so she just hung around after training and subsequent tokens, chatting with Filnon.

 

“We should run another B-Rank. I need more Amour penetration capabilities just in case another Lordling decides to take umbrage at my murdering. Would rather not go through that whole thing again” Es commented, looking down at the still raw scar the blade had left. 

“Mmm, only I get to penetrate you like that~” Filnon replied, giving a wink that made Estaria blush. She’d been keeping the whole damn thing under wraps but then she went and revved it up again. Evil cow.

 

“Could probably ask your new friends for a hand. I am sure they will be glad to give it to you” Filnon carried on, after enjoying Estaria’s reaction for a bit. “You are getting along with them to a point you want me to get along with them, and that’s quite the ask. So go talk to them about it” Filnon suggested, nodding over to the Hag standing watching training.

 

A little awkward since she had no idea what she was even asking, she would approach the Hag and wait for her acknowledgement. People in power didn’t like randomers - even their own randomers - flagging them down all hours of the day. So Estaria would wait for her to nod, and then begin speaking.

“I had some trouble fighting that Lordling, his armour was far too tough for me to punch through properly. Filnon suggested you had something that would help with that?” Estaria would finish her proposition and then wait for a reply. The Hag would stare for a few moments, contemplating and sizing her up before calling over another Witch.

 

“Rorralre! Come teach our Klath ae Kheir how to Dance” The Hag exclaimed, gesturing her over to Estaria. The damned name was enough to make Estaria want to do anything that wasn’t standing here. The Dwarves gave her a name as well, but it was a lot better than ‘Beloved Girl’. A lot less embarrassing…

 

So she would immerse herself in the lesson she was being taught by Rorralre. The combat style was beyond anything she had ever seen or done, making full use of the flexibility and agility of the Witches, as well as making moves that would be uncultured flails if a less talented warrior were executing them. As it was, they were just beautiful cracks of an arm turned into a whip. Estaria was engrossed, and training while trying to follow Rorralre’s motions absorbed her. Though she put great effort towards being a good role model and not wildly practicing this for eighteen hours straight, so would only give it a few and then return home with Filnon.

 

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Dinner was cooked, a bit more training was done, and then Es went to bed, taking off her clothes - putting all her gear in the inventory so as not to make the same mistake again - and getting in, with Filnon crawling in beside her.  Despite all the teasing and all the highly strung emotions of the day, she just went to sleep and didn’t even suggest anything, let alone try anything. It really did appear that it was all just to mess with Estaria, not to get her into some kind of vulnerable position that Filnon could take advantage of.

The morning, after training of both the dance and her system, was an interesting one. Filnon was off on a Dungeon Run, since she was confident that Es could handle anything the Arena threw at her and needed the exp to help Estaria not throw so much XP her way anymore.

 

The Dance that Rorralre tried to teach her continued to elude her, and so she just went into the arena with her own style, the style of hit the enemy till he died horribly. A terrible name, but a very reliable method of combat and a great track record in both the arenas of the Druchii and the fields of combat outside them.

 

“Good people of Avara City, welcome! To the arena!” The Master of the City exclaimed. Estaria hadn’t heard that before, so maybe he only did it on special occasions. “Today we have a new Gladiator, a skilled warrior from the house of Nightfury; Tara the Bloody Bunny!”

 

The gate was lowered, and Estaria stepped out, but she was a little stunned at the exclamation. That name..they were messing with her, right? He was going to announce her proper name, something cool and striking to make up for the mess of the last one. But nope, he just carried on.
“She will be facing off against the carnivorous typhoon of gluttony; Aron The Ox-Eater!” the gates across from her opened, and a huge, obese Ogre barreled out, each second taking her further and further from the moment where he would make a laugh and give her her proper title. It was slowly coming to the idea that that was her proper title. But, how was she meant to spread fear into anything’s heart with a title like that?!

 

The Ogre charged, and Estaria was not one to just sit back and watch, so she rushed in as well, throwing down with the bastard. His heavy fat and muscles soaked her blows, mitigating the Luck damage, and she found herself needing to make far more precise, well-thought out blows at the joints and spine. Striking at his biological support points, the massive, over-strained body quickly began to crumble under it’s own weight, and a might blow to dislocate his knee had the entire leg crumble into bone shards with a sickening noise. 

 

With him down on one knee and unable to get back up from his skeleton grinding itself into dust, Estaria would spin and leap, driving the heel of her shoe into his temple and putting a hole in his gray-matter, killing him instantly and spilling blood everywhere, to the wild applause of the crowd and the chanting of her new name. 

She looked up to the Master, and pondered demanding a proper name for a moment. But, that wasn’t something she could do yet, and she didn’t want to bring trouble to Filnon. The Ogre was quite the opponent, even though he fabricated his own downfall with his endless feasting. The two Stolen Souls pushed her just past the next level, and the second of the three traits. Increasingly verbose and increasingly romantic, she ignored the write-up completely, just trying to push Filnon to as high a power as possible.

 

Could a level 100 take out an entire country? Estaria has seen what a level 40 could do, and the power growth seemed exponential, though there were stat caps, her Dexterity lingering at 100. Druchii could have different caps though…All this thought was not helping her with the bother of the damned name, so she simply turned and headed out of the Arena, to get back to what she could do.

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