Chapter 49: Arc 4: The Burning Port’s Reaper (16)

In Harriet House, the deal was finalized. The negotiation went through. It was the moment which parted on the former Gold Leader from Eleanor, and into a retirement of carnage, blood, and semi-hedonistic life-style.

Ciel wasn’t perfect. Hikari had little feelings for him at first. But recent tough times, and the way he wanted her to have some semblances of dignity over submitting, warmed her to the idea. Hikari still had doubts about Ciel’s intention. Maneuvering her into making the deal from her end could psychologically convince her to think she wanted this. In Hikari’s opinion, it was an ethically questionable way to condition a woman to be his lover.

To be fair, Ciel likely didn’t have a sinister intent. He probably did that in a combination of easing his conscience and ensured that his partner fully understood and committed to the decision.

After everything she had been through — failure, blindness, and good-old depression — Hikari didn’t mind that. Everyone had baggage. Ciel might be unconsciously manipulating her, but Xia and Amy were living proof he had more conscience than Hikari herself.

Hikari had already spent most of her life alone. The recent experience proved she didn’t want a lonely death. Her from a week ago would avoid the mess of a polygamist relationship. The current Hikari didn’t care. Betty was a good friend. Xia helped her. Amy was nothing but gentle. Hikari would be fine with sharing as long as they were around. Hell, the current Hikari would gladly accept the potential possibility of an orgy no one wanted to talk about. 

Life was about making compromises, and this was the most helpful compromise she could get.

Plus, the guy in question was the opposite of bad.

Those thoughts swirled in Hikari’s brain as Ciel leaned in for a kiss. Hikari tried to play it cool, but she couldn’t. It was her first kiss. She couldn’t even see Ciel’s face, but she felt the lips. Soft mellow lip plucked her in the mouth. Hikari moaned a little. The ways Ciel’s tongue entwined around her proved he was an expert. Every second of their contact only declared the choice she made was the right one.

Hikari’s affection was like a seed. It had sprouted and with time it would surely blossom.

Later Hikari would bury herself in bed at the realization she never got to brush her teeth before the kiss (blindness sure didn’t help). Her squirming would only accelerate once she realized her first-kiss was the French-kiss.

The poor girl really needed time to deal with her life’s direction.

…

Speaking of direction, three women were having a drink about where their life was going.

Caislean, in her black sweater, was pouring wine down several glasses and offered it to her fellow companion.

Betty took the glass, “Should I be happy he bagged another one?” She tipped the alcohol down her throat. “Cheers to new comrades.” Betty snorted in Ciel’s worthy sarcasm. “Like hell. We aren’t comrade.”

“We are contracted to the same guy,” Caislean said, sipping her drink.

“Err, I’ve never drank before,” Amy said childishly.

Betty tried to be helpful, “Just swill and swallow, you will get used to the taste.” Then she went on a rant. “Hell, the only thing connecting us is the fact we kiss the same guys.” Betty’s face turned red. “He hasn’t even touched any of us yet. What are we? A decorative trophy?”

Amy drank and felt the alcohol rushing to her head.

“He did the deed with Xia,” Caislean said. Her face scrunched up in jealousy. “Both of them fuck like a rabbit.”

“Stop!” Betty’s imagination drifted to her sister intertwining with Ciel in bed and her brain short-circuited. “Don’t give me a reason to think of Xia as…”

Betty struggled to find the word.

“A slut,” Caislean suggested, then looked over her shoulder out of fear of the General Manager.

“No, that ain’t it,” Betty said. “What do we call someone who is shamelessly gloating about their dominance?”

“An alpha,” Amy said. The young woman’s face was red and was slurring. “Betty, aren’t you quite a sore loser?”

Betty turned to Amy like someone impaled her with a butter-knife. Amy wasn’t the type who taunted people like a Mistress of Evil. That was Carolina’s job. Did someone swap their personality?

“What?” Betty said.

“A sore l-o-s-e-r,” Amy spelled out each letter. “Think about it. There is nothing stopping you from climbing on Ciel’s bed, get naked, then impale yourself on…”

“Stop!” Betty clasped her ears and shut her eyes. She was utterly terrified of the image being presented before her. “Just stop it, Amy!”

It was unfortunate for Betty that Amy Seyfert was the natural of the Drunken-Verbal-Abuse style.

“Why should I?” Amy said. “You don’t have legs to stand on. Men after men kept throwing themselves at you for years, and you dodged them all. Now, you complain about a man ignoring you?” The intoxicated Amy was merciless. “Are you embarrassed or are you thirsty, Betty? What is the point of playing hard-to-get now that it is obvious you are eternally roped in with a guy?”

Betty was speechless, “I…”

“I need to check this thing's alcohol content,” Caislean said with concern. “Is this some kind of super vodka the folks in the Northern Continent drank to fight a bear?” She sniffed the bottle. “No. It is just wine.”

Meanwhile, Amy continued the assault, “Xia told me all about your need to be in love. How shallow. It is like you are ten-year-old waiting for daddy approval.” Amy yawned. “What is it with you and the letting of other people ruling over you?”

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Betty yelled, “What, I—”

“When you are a princess you are ruled by the people's approval,” Betty drowsily said. “Now, you are ruled by the belief you need to behave like you’re still a prim and proper princess. New flash, a proper princess wouldn’t be drowning her sorrows with a secretary and a chef over how her ‘lover’ is adding another woman into his battle harem. Betty, accept the reality. You’re jealous of Ciel screwing your sister over you.”

Betty’s face reddened. She snatched the wine bottle from Caislean’s hand and emptied the content down her throat. The former princess needed Dionysus’ blessing to fend off the envious monster clawing from the lust beneath her chest. 

“Amy, you're not the one to talk,” Caislean decided someone had to stand against Darth Amy. “You are here drowning your sorrow with us too.”

“Really?” Amy said. “The main difference between me and you guys is our status. I’m Ciel’s confidant, not his lover.” Amy hesitated for an instant. “That is my duty. A role no one can take away from me. What about you, Caislean?”

“Excuse me,” Caislean said.

“You want to jump on Ciel’s bed too, but you know you don't amount to much,” Amy’s voice further slurred. “You know you are just an accessory to Ciel’s ability and that is just fueling your inferiority complex. You are afraid your presence will be thinning with every woman being added, and you fear being left behind. Ciel might be an insensitive dolt, but you,” her eyes drooped, “you can trust him to… ZZZ”

Thump!

Amy dozed off mid-speech and fell to the floor.

Betty, finishing the entire bottle, wiped her mouth and breathed like she just ran a marathon. Meanwhile, Caislean watched the sleeping Amy frightfully. Unlike Betty, she maintained her composure, but Amy’s words shook her to the core.

“That was terrifying,” Betty gulped and looked at the sleeping girl in terror.

“Agreed,” Caislean nodded. “Let's not put any alcohol near Amy ever again.”

“Yes, for the sake of world peace,” Betty agreed.

…

Somewhere in the distance, a certain blue-haired woman inhabiting a dingy ship rocketed from the nap on her desk.

Around the girls were contraptions, notes, blueprint, and experimental write-ups. Every annotation and written words were a composition of ingenuity and curiosity. They were of the girl’s unparalleled talent, surpassing even the grand artificers. 

The girl quickly grabbed her glass and put it on, recounting her dream in vivid detail.

No, the dream wasn’t correct. It was the image of the future. A product of the Blue Magic the girl cast in her sleep — a skill of the Color Transcendence. 

Blue Magic Rank 6: Scry

“Hikari is coming here with the Unity Lord,” the blue hair scanned around her dirty room filled with pommels, gears, and half-finished experiment. Her eyes flashed Blue again. “Oh crap. Etaceh is,” she gulped, “oh no. Why does this have to happen to me?”

The blue-hair girl pranced around the room, ranting to herself.

“To hell with the Theomachy,” the woman, the analyst, yelled. “Just Mother alone is bad enough. Why do the Lords keep finding their ways to me? My plan to hide under Borbonsi’s nose is in ruin. I need to leave.”

But part of the girl didn’t believe that. She looked at the detailed thesis pinned at the message-board on the far-side of the room.

The woman hated being under anyone's thumb, but she still owed a debt to Hikari.

“Well, I still need to pay my dues,” the girl looked around the room to see what she could scrounge up. “Yep, maybe I can whip up something to finish my payment.”

The woman then began making a final parting gift for her friend. This was the life she lived since her escape from the controlling Mother. It was what she wanted — a grand adventure to discover the world in all its glory.

Ever since the day she set sail, she considered herself the voyager.

…

Carolina read the report with a strange feeling. She skimmed the page, scanned it in greater detail, and finally read the passage out loud.

“Hecate is sighted flying above the Forest of Separation and evidently crawling across the sky in Eleanor’s direction?” Carolina put the paper down. “What is she planning? A slow crawl invasion route to take territory and build her momentum. Or is it an invitation to draw an army out into a straight fight.”

The new Gold Leader took her time to think up the strategy. She shouldn’t have dispatched troops to confront the city directly. Etaceh was baiting her for a reason. Carolina wouldn’t put it past the Prime intelligentsia to booby-trap the battlefield.

“Maybe sending the majority of the troop to fortify territory around Eleanor and buying food for potential siege will do,” Carolina tried to convince herself and the nagging feeling of being outsmarted. “What could she be planning?”

To be fair to the newly minted Gold Leader, she made the best move possible with limited knowledge. It was simply a tragic fact that fighting the Lords without knowing what they are is akin to going into a booby-trapped room while deaf and blindfolded. Even if the trap presented itself, it was impossible to react before it was too late.

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