novelraw Chapter 245: Deireadhallow’s Eve Part Two
Chapter 245: Deireadhallow’s Eve Part Two
Daniel studies the young woman on the stretcher brought into the destroyed contract modification room. Ucahote and several other sapient golems are directing the autonomous soldiers to clean up and reconstruct the magic circles needed to be able to perform the spell. Ogre and goblin workers are also working together to bring the mined uranium ore from the eastern mountains in via lead-lined carts as well. The thinking is that, by having a fake Neith be dead nearby, particularly in his “Sir Larvenn” armor, and magic suppression active, Zuzia will be able to resist her compulsion to return to Yaulander. It’s not entirely clear how exactly magic enslavement collars work, but Daniel knows it can work to suppress the magic contracts he has employed to keep himself and the Fievegal safe from his superpowered acquaintances that could turn coat at the first sign of advantage.
Ryuogriar and Reignleif have each taken one of his hands to gingerly put medicinal salves on his palms, which might as well have been seared on a frying pan from the various tribulations he has gone through.
Geirahoel complains, “Do we have to bother with this right now, Mukori? You are too hurt to keep doing this today. And, if she resists like this idiot…” The orange dragon gestures at her golden elder, who bashfully chuckles nervously.
“Heh heh heh… I… I really am sorry about that… I just… panicked…”
Daniel replies without taking his eyes off of Zuzia, “No. It was too much trouble to get her the first time. We can’t afford to leave her as Yaulander’s slave. Plus, I had Neith make the promise on my behalf, and I meant it. Just as I did for Jeavana.”
The dragons are silent. All of them have benefitted from Daniel’s mercy and compassion. As much as it drives the Empresses insane that he endangers himself so readily, they can’t help but feel immense gratitude for what that bravery has granted them each personally.
While he has employed ‘slavery’ himself, Daniel has kept his own usage of that aspect as truly minimal as possible. Just like the fact that he feels like an imposter as an Emperor and does try to downplay it, a master of slaves or indentured servants still doesn’t sit right with him. He values the freedom his homeland stood for, at least in spirit. But, circumstances do lock people into situations beyond their will at times, especially for criminals and enemies, so there is a time and place for everything.
For someone to so readily enslave a person simply for her power, even if he created a ‘justification’ out of the harm she caused defending herself, it makes Daniel’s heart feel like it’s pumping boiling tar.
The problem is, the collar makes it even more disgusting, but also presents a question. It appears to be fused to her skin through the magic activation.
“Ryukana, Amalaskae,... Can I ask for a favor that will cheat the rules?”
“I’ll hear you out at least,” replies Ryukana confidently.
“If it’s to help Zuzia, of course.”
“I can create a situation to benefit myself, but it’ll require your direct intervention and… a secret I promised to keep.” He looks at the two goddesses, who are standing nearby. They are masters at minimizing their presence, even standing out in the open, because it lets them hide in plain sight. Direct intervention is typically supposed to be rare, but they will often observe their worlds at ground level this way.
“Y-You’re talking like you’ll have to chop her head off or something,” jokes Amalaskae nervously. She fidgets obviously, and Daniel feels a foreboding sense of danger from her. He’s not sure if it’s related to how Hekate perceived Lugrae when Daniel was about to engage him, or when Senn presented herself to everyone by releasing her substantial mana in order to make a dramatic ‘entrance’.
The mechanic replies, “It… might go that way…”
There’s a grim silence, and Veiranoei speculates aloud, “You’re worried about the collar, right?”
“Yes. I can use her true name like I did with Serrentuk, but if the collar still doesn’t come off, she’ll have to live with it forever, which is almost as bad. And, that assumes the collar’s spell can be broken the same way.”
“If you intend to cut it off, others have tried,” states Serrentuk. “She will not be able to withstand the pain, and it is far too easy to end the person’s life trying to save them.”
“I figured as much,” replies Daniel. “But, on Earth, surgery was performed quite often on a very detailed level. I’m not a surgeon by any stretch, but I’ve done precision work before. I’m hoping that I can remove the collar surgically while its magic is suppressed, which I should be able to accomplish both tasks using Nemaisol after transforming it into a scalpel… hopefully. But, to do it in such a way that Zuzia doesn’t wake up…” He looks to Ryukana and Amalaskae. “I would need major favors even Earthlings wouldn’t have access to.”
“I’ll do anything to help Zuzia,” replies Amalaskae without hesitation. “I was careless and thought she would be able to prevent this with simple strength.”
“Magic contracts of any kind are not so easy to break nor prevent,” replies Ryukana sorrowfully. “But, I am willing to help as well.”
Daniel states quietly, “Then, I’ll need time stopped around us, and I’ll need an import of… I guess Nitrous Oxide? Whatever the most modern, effective, and safe sleeping gas is.”
Both of these requests give the two Divine Beings slight pause. One requires their powers specifically, meaning divine intervention. The other is because Daniel would have to burn through a lot of mana to summon the so-called ‘knock-out gas’ in the absence of further medical knowledge. Because he doesn’t have vessels, a capture system, or even deployment for it, it’ll be difficult for him to prepare it in a hurry now. Likewise, because Zuzia has powerful magic resistance that allowed her to act ‘freely’ inside of Serrentuk’s timeless ‘Gate’, so magic means of trying to keep her unconscious through the painful process won’t work.
“Y… You believe you can do it?” asks Amalaskae.
“Physically, yes. Stopping time will manage bloodloss if I back off with Nemaisol in the event of mistakes, and if it’s all time…”
“Ah,” murmurs Amalaskae in realization. “It’ll buy time to allow you to do so without sacrificing time against the mana fire.”
Daniel nods.
Ryukana thinks for a moment, and Amalaskae defers to her senior on the matter.
“Wouldn’t it be possible to use the artifact in Mornistae?” The one to ask this is Reignleif, who is now holding Daniel’s bandaged hand just to hold it.
“The artifact?” repeats Daniel, realizing she’s right. It was one of the concessions in the peace agreement, but was already stolen by Yaulander somehow.
“It’s no longer in Mornistae,” replies Treia just before Daniel does. “It was taken from Mornistae the same time the Void Artilleries were stolen.”
“Pardon me,” offers the weary Serrentuk, who is sitting on a wooden folding chair while Senn tends to him. She’s battered and worn out as well, but she still takes care of her father with great care and affection. Even so, she is surprised when the elder sorcerer speaks up. Serrentuk shifts and finishes his thought. “I’m not sure what is what, but… The only assets taken from Mornistae, other than personnel, that were retrieved by Yaulander and his allies were the void artilleries.”
“What?” asks Daniel, surprised. Making the connection, he realizes there’s only really one person who could accomplish any of that. “Wait, you have it?”
The elven sage gives a wide grin as he adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps I will be able to repay some of my debts.”
***
The summit is so close. The air is thin, and the temperature is cold, but every crunch of snow under her boots is a reassurance that the conquest of this mountain is drawing ever closer.
Still, in spite of the many steps she has taken already, the peak seems to never get any closer. Every glance behind her makes the base further away, but the top of the colossal monolith remains out of reach by what appears to be a small journey unto itself.
Zuzia sighs, seeing her own breath. She can see a figure as it reaches the summit, and in spite of the distance, she recognizes him with ease. Her grandfather was a powerhouse of an adventurer, even as he approached his twilight years. He always slowed himself down when she was a child so that she could keep up, and as Zuzia became stronger, she eventually managed to overtake him.
Yet, as she matured even more, she found herself happy to slow down in order to stay alongside her idol and greatest mentor. Even at his slowest, he remained the wisest man she knew, and his patience was unparalleled.
Now, once more, Zuzia is far behind him as he reaches the peak of the mountain, turning to look at his granddaughter, who still has what feels like a kilometer to go.
Still, the old man waits patiently, and Zuzia pushes herself to keep climbing. Her neck aches, though, burning from pain. She’s forgetting something important, but she’ll worry about that when she catches up to the sagely old adventurer.
No matter how long the young Polish woman drags her feet forward, though, that kilometer never seems to shrink, and her grandfather continues to wait.
She tries to call out to him that she’s doing alright, in case he’s worried, but her voice won’t come out. Instead, her neck feels even tighter. Her throat burns, though in a strangely numb way.
“No rush,” comes back the voice of Zuzia’s beloved grandfather, just as it always was. “The point of hiking is to enjoy the journey, not race to the destination.”
Zuzia knows this well. He never rushed through their hikes, though he liked to have a certain pace to reach the best vistas and plateaus to see the views along the way.
Regardless, Zuzia does try to walk a little faster. It’s not that she’s rushing, but she wants to catch up to the patriarch of her family to enjoy the view that much longer with him.
That’s when tragedy sweeps it all away.
Suddenly, Zuzia is slammed by water that sweeps in out of seemingly nowhere, and she is sent tumbling down the mountain, losing all of her progress so far. She tries to scream and catch any surface she can, but the relentless river of water mercilessly carries her further and further away from the goal that was so close.
Before long, the honey-haired brunette is plunged deep into water that is pitch black in every direction except upwards due to the night sky. The only thing above her is the light of the moon and a single small boat.
Zuzia tries to reach for the boat, but it’s far above her, and she is being pulled downwards by her neck. She tries to claw off the anchor pulling her down, but it won’t come off. If anything, she’s scratching at her own neck. The pressure is squeezing down on her lungs, and her throat feels like it’s being closed off. Her efforts are all in futility, and she finally starts to remember the collar.
The collar is pulling her into the inky black void while the boat idly sits above her, as if waiting for her.
That’s when she sees him again, and her heart nearly stops.
Rather than waiting for her at the mountain top, an old man is sitting in the boat patiently, watching Zuzia as she sinks. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help her. He is simply resigned to the fact that he can’t.
Her eyes start to blur, though the water swallowing her into its depths makes her tears vanish before they ever have a chance to take form.
Zuzia reaches for her Grandpa, trying to call out and scream for him. She misses him every single day. Age comes for everyone eventually, and for as long as his life was, he was indeed human.
The old man gives a soft smile, saying gently, “Krok po kroku, Odkrywca. [Step by step, Explorer.]”
She tries to cry out for help, but he adds the rest gently. “Za każdy krok, jaki zrobisz ponad to, co myślisz, że potrafisz, jutro zrobisz dwa, Odkrywco. [For every step you take beyond what you think you can do, tomorrow you'll take two, Explorer.]”
She can hear his words effortlessly, in spite of the distance and water squeezing in on her as the collar drags her down. His voice is fading a little, but it’s as clear as if he’s just ahead of her.
She desperately tries to call out, “Dziadku! [Grandpa!]”, but her voice still won’t come out. She only manages to exasperate the drowning, burning, and crushing sensation she feels as despair closes in.
The last thing he says to her sounds a little strange and a bit more direct, reaching her just as easily, but carrying a slightly more blunt tone. “You have not failed anyone, Odkrywca. None of this is your fault. You have done the best you can, and I know you will continue to do so. But, you cannot blame yourself for the choices of your friends, no matter what happens. After all, they are your friends precisely because they reached their hands out to you. Or, is this foolish old man wrong…?”
“{No!}” mouths Zuzia as she tries to scream in futility. “{You’re not foolish! Grandpa! Please! Please don’t go! Help me!}”
“You passed me long ago, my precious little explorer. You’re far from alone. In the meantime, I’ll never stop watching how far ahead you’ll go…” With this, his voice fades completely, and Zuzia tries once more to call out to him.
Even so, he can’t hear her.
Just as the moon is starting to fade as well, Zuzia feels hands take each of her own, and her descent into the depths of the dark sea finally stops. The pressure and burning around her throat starts to relieve finally, and faces start to come into view as the darkness slowly gives way to enough light to show who has taken hold of her hands.
One is a human male that she doesn’t immediately recognize, but his dark hair and dark brown eyes, as well as how he carries himself almost seems to silently scream ‘American’. She is confident without having met him that she’s seeing Daniel. Next to him, Serrentuk’s face appears, holding her other hand. Then, Neith’s arm has a hold onher right wrist just below Serrentuk’s grip, and Amalaskae clasps Daniel’s hands onto Zuzia’s. Even Ryukana seems to be holding tightly to all of them to ensure none of them can be pulled downwards, even if Zuzia were to try to drag them down herself.
As her breath finally returns, she finds herself on the summit of the mountain with these five people, as well as others she doesn’t recognize, and Zuzia can feel tears finally falling down her face. She has no words now, but not because she can’t speak. She simply has no idea what to say.
And, before she can even thank them, everything fades away.
This time, though, Zuzia doesn’t feel despair. For some reason, she knows everything is about to be okay.
***
Zuzia opens her eyes, which are blurry at first, but she is met with a strange ceiling and lights she doesn’t recognize. They have a soft blue-hued whiteness unlike the harsh whiteness of hospital fluorescent or LED lights, and they are nothing reminiscent of anything in the Victorian-esque fantasy world of Zenkon. Zuzia knows ‘modern’ lights on Zenkon use magic, typically, if they can be afforded, which can somewhat emulate Earth’s more modern LED lights. But, this goes beyond that.
The first face to appear in her vision has a strange helmet that reminds Zuzia of a science-fiction space soldier popular in video games. “Wakey Wakey, Grand Odkrywca. We’ve got a fire to put out.”
Zuzia feels like she’s coming out of a near-coma from hammering down an entire top shelf of a liquor store. Her head is pounding, some of her bones still ache, and her organs feel like they’re on fire. And, most notably, her neck feels hot.
Still, not one to simply lie limply in a bed, she does her best to speak, and thankfully, unlike her strange dream, her voice comes out.
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“Y-... You must be… Daniel…”
The helmeted man chuckles and nods once. “Take it easy, uh,... Is it alright if I call you Zuzia?”
“P-Please do…” murmurs the brunette. She lifts her hand slowly to make sure it’s still attached.
Serrentuk’s voice asks from a different helmet, “How do you feel, my Lady?”
“S-Serrentuk?”
“That’s right, my Lady. We made it through. Somehow.”
Zuzia tries to turn her head, and her neck stings, causing her to wince.
Daniel speaks up again, “I’ll explain to your heart’s content if you want, but the short version is, we had to simultaneously cut the collar off and cast the magic to override the spell. I sent out everyone but Floria, Serrentuk, and Neith, who are here so they wouldn’t overhear your full name. For now, you are still a magical slave, but to me. We can test it if you wish, but I have no intention of giving you orders that you can’t disobey.”
Zuzia swallows in spite of her mouth feeling dry, and her throat is sore. Her voice can barely come out as more than a slightly croaky whisper, but she does manage a few more words. “N-Neith explained it to me. He… and Serrentuk both promised me…”
“To help you kill me if I don’t keep my promise. I know. Please do take it easy, Zuzia. Your body is tough, which helped, but the collar was grafted to your skin.”
“M-... Make it up… to me…” murmurs Zuzia.
Daniel scoffs, and he nods at Serrentuk. They both remove their helmets, and she can see that Daniel is an incredibly average person. His face seems mostly gentle, but with recent scratches, some of which were bleeding until recently, and bruises marking most of his face. He is showing his own wear and tear on this fantasy-esque world. He gives her a friendly smile as he replies to her, “I’ll try. Tell me what you wish for. Oh, and please, regardless of whatever you hear, feel free to call me Daniel.”
Zuzia nods subtly. She has heard a few nicknames of his own, and she murmurs, “Har…binger…”
A woman nearby immediately starts laughing, and Zuzia tries to look.
“That’s Jeavana. I’ll introduce you to everyone once you can sit up. Until then,...”
“Beer…” blurts out the Polish woman.
“What?” asks Neith, who is down near her feet from the direction his voice came from. She can see his face, and she feels relieved. The dragon put his life on the line for her, and even accepted power from Amalaskae to help defeat Zuzia in one final push.
“I said… beer. Why… is there… no beer?”
Daniel laughs this time, and he replies warmly as he pats her shoulder, “Would you believe me if I said I haven’t found any hop plants yet?”
“No.” Zuzia’s retort is blunt and unforgiving. She does her best to try to sit up to look at him, and he keeps his hands close in case her arms and back give out from her exhaustion. “You have rum and wine, but no beer?”
Daniel can’t help but give an amused smile as he laughs, since she has him there.
“Guilty,” growls the Polish woman as she scowls at him.
“Mukori!” whines a younger woman nearby. Zuzia’s gaze is drawn to a gaggle of women, four of which show the same telltale traits as Neith, meaning they must be dragons, while three of the women have feline traits, a female elf with black hair and an almost Asian-looking facial structure, and lastly, a woman that looks like a dark elf with her caramel skin and strawberry-brunette hair. The dark elf and one of the catgirls both particularly look distinctly pregnant.
The one who protested continues, “Who is this woman to accuse you of being guilty when…?”
“Calm down, Mukori,” replies Daniel politely. Zuzia can sense that it’s not jealousy, per se, but instead, this woman is protective of him, even if she’s standing a few meters away with the rest of the group. “She has a sense of humor. That’s all.”
Zuzia doesn’t know enough yet, but she notices that the red-haired woman, who appears to be somewhere between nineteen and early twenties, and Daniel both use the same word for each other, meaning it probably is a pet name.
“More importantly,...” Zuzia looks apologetically at Neith, who is wearing his armor, but has also taken his helmet off. He has scrapes and bruises as well, most of which are undoubtedly from the fight. “You… risked Neith’s life to help me… Why? I’m nothing to you, and you sent someone like Neith…”
“My Lady-...” starts the dragon before Daniel holds up his hand. Neith stops instantly, and it makes Zuzia feel a little irritated.
“You’re right,” replies Daniel. “Neith is a better friend and adoptive brother than I deserve. Or brother in law. He routinely risks his life to protect me and my family here, only one of which is truly his own blood.”
“Mukori!” whines the same redhead with a blush. She must be the relative in question, and by the wording the American is choosing, she must be a younger sister to Neith.
Daniel continues, “But, Neith knows his limits. He is far older than you and me combined. We narrowly avoided killing each other when we met, and we’ve become brothers since. I rely on him because he’s one of the strongest soldiers I have, and he has agreed to help me. If ever the day comes that Neith refuses…”
“I would kill him,” growls the same fiery redhead. Neith seems to simply chuckle at this, all but confirming an overly-kind big brother and his feisty little sister.
Still ignoring his apparent consort, the American continues, “I would be able to do nothing to stop him. If he betrayed me, it would look something like this…” Daniel gestures around them, and Zuzia realizes they’re in an interior warzone. Somehow, the room is intact, and there are curtains up to separate something on the other side of the room, but it’s strange that they would be here for the removal of the collar.
Zuzia touches her neck, and it feels tender, but she feels skin, rather than a leather collar.
“Like I said,” starts Daniel, seeming to want to make sure she understands everything. “You’re contracted to me, now. I’ll free you once you’ve healed, and Neith has permission to stop me if I give you orders without thinking, since you can’t push back.”
Neith adds, going back a step, “Daniel is right, Zuzia. I was on a path to revenge that Daniel inadvertently took for me, crossing our paths. Now, I have purpose, I have strong allies, and my own family is kept safe by the weapons and comforts that we all work to build here. If I was certain that I could not help you, I would have fled. Fortunately, Serrentuk arrived in time.”
“It was good to unleash for a little while. I was able to confirm how much I’ve weakened.”
Zuzia is quiet for a moment as she thinks about everything. True, she doesn’t feel the compulsions of any orders leftover from Yaulander, but it feels surreal for her to be able to relax, finally.
“Alright, then…” murmurs Zuzia. “Test the enslavement. Prove you’re my master.”
Daniel nods once.
That’s right, Danny. What’ll you have me do? Bark like a dog? Kiss you somewhere foul? Jerk off-...
“Zuzia, I order you to slap me in the face as hard as you can.”
“Are you suicidal!?” screams Zuzia as she feels it instantly. She tries to resist, but she’s too exhausted, and her hand truly does fly on its own. She tries to catch her own arm, but she can’t actually stop herself.
And, with brutal finality and not even a flinch from the supposedly loyal Neith, Zuzia’s palm makes contact with Daniel’s left cheek.
And that’s it.
His head doesn’t evaporate, nor does his neck turn into a ‘U’ shape. There is no thunderous clap nor shockwaves from him tanking the impact.
There’s just her hand on his face, and he gives a smirk. She’s dumbfounded. She felt her muscles coil and tense like a full-force blow was coming, but the moment her hand reached his cheek, it was more like a gentle caress than an attack.
Shocked, Zuzia grunts out a slightly dumb “Huh?” She takes her hand back, smacking his cheek a few more times. She manages to get a couple of simple ‘clap’ sounds, but she would pat a child’s cheeks or belly a little harder than this to make silly clapping sounds. Avoiding hurting them, of course.
“Did… Did you remove my magic powers somehow?”
“No. That’s solely the contract restraining you,” replies Daniel. She keeps patting his cheeks, trying to slap him, but only getting gentle bops. Daniel smirks in the way that a person does as their irritation slowly builds. He’s slightly amused, but he’s getting annoyed as well.
“Hah! What’s wrong? Is it getting annoying? This is the least you can do. No beer. What American doesn’t make beer before rum? That should be a violation of the Geneva Conventions or something. Głuptasie.”
Zuzia’s fellow Earthling simply gives a warm laugh, finally brushing her hand away. “I’m sorry. Once we’re settled down from the mana fire, I’ll spare no expense. But, I never liked beer myself, so I won’t know the right tastes to aim for.”
“I suppose I can lend you my palette. For a fee, of course.”
Everyone gets a chuckle out of this, and the American then says gently, “We have plenty of space available, and we have a room already set up for you. You can do what you want with it, or request a different location if you want. But for now, you should probably get a decent meal and some sleep. I’ll be out of the Citadel for a while, but Ryuo-Mukori and the others that are remaining here will take good care of you. You have my word.”
Zuzia looks at the dragon women, still watching her a little suspiciously, but the one with silvery-blonde locks bows her head slightly. “I am Ryuogriar gur Lawson, Second Empress of the Fievegal, Lady Zuzia. As my beloved Mukori said, I will be happy to…”
“I am Doephluev arch Lawson,” interrupts the dark-elf lady. “While Hekate is out, I am the acting sovereign of…”
“You most certainly are not,” growls the platinum dragon. “Unlike our little fool, I have not gambled against you and…”
Just as a bickering match is heating up, Daniel clears his throat. The two women instantly halt, and Zuzia observes skeptically.
Though, both of them appeal to Daniel immediately to complain. He ignores them, saying, “You’ll have anything you need, Zuzia. You can trust them because I trust them. That matter is just some shenanigans that you can mostly ignore. No one here will make you call them Empress.”
Doephluev, who was mid-protest, immediately gasps and switches to a new complaint. “Daniel! What will people think? They’ll think she’s your newest mistress!”
“I would rather d-... uh…” Zuzia halts her instinctive retort, softening the blow. “If her Imperial Majesty wishes, I can…”
“Ew… Gross, no nevermind. You can call me Doephluev. I like being friendly with our friends.” The caramel-skinned elf-like woman grins deviously, and Zuzia can only stare at her.
“Like I said, they’ll take good care of you,” replies Daniel. “Just… don’t take anyone here too seriously. Myself included. Geira-Mukori?”
The redheaded dragon immediately jogs to Daniel’s side, clinging to his arm. “Yes, Mukori?”
“This is Geirahoel,” explains Daniel. “Mukori, please formally meet Zuzia.”
“I’m Geirahoel gur Lawson. A pleasure to meet you.”
“Zuzia,” replies the brunette with a smile. She feels a little awkward, but Daniel gets to the point immediately after.
“If you would, please go through some styles and help Zuzia get some comfortable outfits. Whatever she wants. I trust you not to mislead her.”
Geirahoel blushes as she glances at the Polish woman. It seems like the younger dragon woman is more honest in some ways, but she has a sort of shyness to her. Geirahoel nods in agreement with Daniel’s request. “Y-Yes, of course! Um… Can I…” She glances a few times at Zuzia, as if to gauge the human woman’s own intentions. “Is it alright if I bring Enya and a few Keepers to help? F-Female, of course.”
“That should be fine, but get Zuzia’s permission first. Zuzia, Enya is Geirahoel’s first child, who hatched yesterday. Just be careful, she can already breathe fire. And, the ‘Keepers’ are… uh… cultists who worship the dragons. That’s the easiest way to put it. They won’t harm you or put pressure on you, especially as long as you are with Geira-Mukori.”
“I… uh…”
“If it helps, I will also accompany you,” states Amalaskae as she approaches from the other side.
“A-Amala…” whimpers Zuzia. She notices a foreboding object behind where her head was, which looks somewhat like an upside down spider with diamonds all over it. But, there are just so many things for her to feel that she can’t seem to pick one.
Relief was already present in her heart, since Daniel does seem as mellow as both Neith and Serrentuk claim, and all of them are still alive.
Zuzia then makes a realization. “Wait… You’re heading out? All of you look more haggard than I feel.”
Daniel’s tone finally becomes more serious. “The mana fire is quickly approaching the threshold of what I think I can stop with the worst method I have. So, before the day is out, you’ll probably be able to chalk up a couple more war crimes if you want. As Neith promised, I won’t order or even pressure you to help us. Get some rest, and I’ll handle it.”
Zuzia does her best to stand up, and Daniel, Geirahoel, and Serrentuk all move to make sure she doesn’t fall. Even a smaller, almost violet-hued grey-skinned being appears, and Zuzia is given a momentary pause.
Still, she insists, “I’m fine… I’m fine. Just… Get me some pants and a shirt. Like this will be fine…” She gently tugs at Daniel’s rolled up sleeve, which seems to be a slightly more crude pre-denim, like a cotton blend, rather than pure cotton, but has a nice durable feel and a modest ruggedness she can deal with. The Polish woman adds seriously, “Don’t expect heroics out of me, but if this mana fire thing is what I’m thinking of, Sundenelle will already be trying to fight it, and she helped me a lot as well. And, if I can, I intend to protect Sir Neith and Serrentuk. Even if it’s from you.” She looks directly into Daniel’s eyes. He’s only a little taller than her, maybe five centimeters or so, but he doesn’t try to intimidate her or square up against her.
Suddenly, he smirks, and he says towards Neith, “See? I told you reverse psychology would work, didn’t I?”
“What?” asks Zuzia with an irritated growl.
Daniel chuckles as the others, including Neith, cock their heads in confusion, and he adds as she presses her chest against his to specifically square up and prepare to fight him, futile as it might be. “Sorry, sorry. A joke. In all sincerity…” Daniel takes a step back and bows his head respectfully. “I really would appreciate your help. I don’t know with what, yet, but your magic resistance and strength may prevent me from needing to reach the last option.”
“What’s the last option? A nuke?” asks the Polish woman bluntly. This seems to startle the others, and one of the catgirls, specifically the pregnant one, asks the other two, “She knows about them, too?”
“Daniel said they’re superweapons on Earth, so they must be well-known, even if they aren’t used,” replies the one with a sci-fi-looking rifle slung across her back.
“Wait… seriously? A nuke?” asks Zuzia, appalled at Daniel.
“If you’d seen what I used the first one on, you’d understand,” replies Daniel. “But, radioactivity seems to have a sort of nullifying inverse effect on mana. There’s a lot to catch you up on, but if you are willing to deploy with us, then I should probably offer you healing potations.”
“What? Were you being stingy on the healing magic because you weren’t sure I would help?”
“No,” replies Daniel.
Serrentuk explains on his behalf, since he’s a more trusted voice, “Using healing magic or any sort of healing consumable is fast acting, and while effective, carries some risk of complications. Daniel was worried, and his logic is sound, that if your injuries, especially bone injuries, were to heal improperly, we would almost never be able to repair them, as Nemaisol is the only thing so far sharp enough to freely cut you, let alone if we need to correct your bones.”
“Ah… I guess that makes sense,” replies Zuzia, relaxing a little.
The American adds, “Plus, everyone here on Zenkon is more or less informed about magic, in a sense. I wasn’t sure if you were informed of the risks yet. You’re in no shape to fight or work right now, and there’s only a couple of days left before we run out of time, by our estimates.”
Ryuogriar, cutting straight through the “how” and directly to the “what”, states bluntly, “The mana fire, if it continues unchecked, will consume the whole world. It is burning everything, including the ground. We understand the risks of these weapons, and we have some idea of how terrible they were on your world. But, even so, we begged Mukori to create them to save our world, and if they become the only way to save the world again, I would beg the gods to send me to Earth if need be to request even more experts, even if I have to give myself in exchange.”
Zuzia is surprised by the silvery-blonde’s resolve in saying this, as if Daniel truly has kept them as appraised as possible about the risks, and even hypothetical scenarios if he were to try to take one of them, especially a dragon, back to Earth.
“No pressure, am I right?” jokes Zuzia after a moment of thought.
Daniel scoffs. “I feel like disaster action movies should be made about us. The craziness never seems to stop anymore.”
“Fine… I’ll allow the nukes as practical, I guess, but then, why haven’t you already let them fly now?”
Neith explains, “There is a major city that’s central to trade in the east within range of a god-... uh, a nuke if it’s identical to the ones used against the Devourer.”
“‘Devourer?’ Did you name it?” asks Zuzia a little sarcastically while looking at Daniel.
“As a matter of fact, I did not. I’m only responsible for about a quarter of the cringe things you see and hear from now on.”
“Fair enough…” Zuzia’s expression then goes cold. “So, tell me, ‘Harbinger of Calamity’, what happens if this city still isn’t fully evacuated when the clock is approaching zero?”
Daniel’s expression drains of all humor he had up until this moment. He’s not horrified by the prospect, meaning he hasn’t completely neglected to realize that. If it suits a semi-Victorian-era trade hub, like they say, it could easily surpass half a million people. Though it doesn’t sound like it would be a direct hit, the chances of significant numbers of deaths remains severely high.
And, for civilians from modern Earth, especially in the twenty-first century, assuming all three Earthlings are from the same era, pushing a button and killing thousands or hundreds of thousands of innocent people, even for the greater good, is just not something they have to think about.
Daniel doesn’t look like a sociopath, and in fact, just being asked that question seems to be exactly what he was avoiding with his playful trading of jabs with Zuzia up until now.
It’s not a question Zuzia thinks she could answer either. She’s not a zealous, unshakable die-hard Christian, but her beliefs make the basics of either major version of the trolley problem virtually untenable to her.
Zuzia asks a little coldly, “Where are your jokes now, Daniel? Surely you have thought about this.”
“Zuzia…” murmurs Serrentuk, but she hisses at him to shut him up. Daniel is the one with the buttons and the fingers hovering over them.
Daniel won’t make eye contact with her for a long time. It’s clear that he’s searching his conscience. He’s trying to string words together. But, he obviously knows it’s wrong to even think about that outcome.
The Polish woman finally says as she puts her hand on his shoulder. “Daniel… Let’s get moving. If there are still people, we have to evacuate them.” She then faces Geirahoel. “Geirahoel, right? If you would, please get me an outfit, even if I have to wear one of his or Neith’s. They look big enough that I should be able to fit.”
“Mukori?” asks Geirahoel, deferring to Daniel.
He nods, still lost in thought and unable to look at Zuzia. “Please go. We’ll be leaving in around ten minutes.”
Zuzia agrees with a nod. “Don’t leave without me.” She takes a few more steps and stops. “And… Thank you… all of you. I truly am thankful that you went to such lengths to free me.”
Daniel nods once, but he reminds her with his voice still downcast, “You’re not completely free yet.”
Zuzia smiles softly. She can tell he’s carrying a lot of weight on his shoulders, and the contract binding Zuzia to him is a burden to him, not an asset. It’s reassuring that, if nothing else, he does seem to be rather kind.
With that, Zuzia follows the orange dragon, though she glances at the American a few more times.
That said, I am sorry, Daniel. But, you can’t seriously be planning to drop a nuclear bomb when innocent people are in the way, can you? Not when you and your powerful soldiers are all gathered here instead of evacuating the city.
Regardless of the outcome, they’re all going to need to work together to stop this fire, and apparently, save the world.
***
A/N 1: Głuptasie is a Polish word for “silly” and in this case, she is calling Daniel a “Silly person”, or a more lighthearted way of saying “Idiot.” I hope. Lol. Please correct me if I'm wrong.