Chương 91: Battery

"Shouldn't you be dealing with the real attack instead of trying to kill your own ally?"

"Ally? You killed Richard!" Which one was Richard? I hadn't been bothering to appraise them, but perceive presence told me everyone I'd hit was still alive.

"No I didn't; he's fine." Well, if Richard was the one in the moat, 'fine' was pushing things a bit, but they probably had healers. I'm sure that arm could be reattached with no problem.

"Besides, you're trying to kill me, and I gave repeated warnings I would fight back if you didn't stop." I dodged another spear thrust, not wanting to take back to the air and give the mages a clean shot at me.

"And are still trying to kill me," I added. Didn't those mages from before get some sort of divine punishment for attacking me? That should give these guys a clue that they were attacking the wrong person. Or was it only because they'd successfully killed me? In that case, I would be better off letting them kill me than committing suicide. The curse should give them a clue something was up.

So, fly in, find the altar or statue or shrine or whatever it may be, activate the respawn point, leave the letter somewhere safe, let them kill me and get themselves cursed, and by the time I respawned they might be willing to listen. The only slight issue with that plan was that no-one in the castle knew I'd respawned, and no-one was paying any attention to anything I said. They all thought I'd survived the spell.

There wouldn't be anything in the letter about it, the commander would think that his garrison had killed humanity's last hope, and by the time I respawned, shit would probably have long since hit the fan. Why was nothing ever easy? I was immortal. I had bloody dragon breath! Yet I still couldn't walk from one end of the continent to the other? What sort of bullshit was that supposed to be? Then again, random invisible walls are often a thing in RPGs.

The number of protagonists completely unable to climb over a fallen tree trunk or an upturned cart was amazing. Or even not being able to jump at all. If I ever started a protagonist school, it would definitely feature jumping as a mandatory class. Holy magic tolerance advanced to level 3 I was pulled from my thoughts back to the real world by a wave of burning light washing over the wall. I saw my health bar drop a fraction, but it wasn't serious.

The soldiers weren't harmed at all, holy magic seemingly being immune to friendly fire. Holy magic being one of the few things that still posed a danger to me, I replied with a burst of flame of my own, melting the legs off the offending mage. Again, I was sure they had healers. If I'd aimed a little higher, I could have melted his head off. They'd give me credit for not doing that, right?

"She can use dragon breath!" shouted someone.

"You've been yelling dragon, dragon, dragon for ages, so why act surprised when I breathe fire?" I yelled back, deciding to make a break for the shrine during the brief interruption. I had a good idea of where the centre point of the fortress was, and there were unfortunately several presences around it far stronger than the mage I'd just incapacitated, but I didn't need to beat them. Activating the respawn point would be enough. Assuming there was one. If there turned out not to be, humanity was probably screwed.

I jumped from the wall to the inside, spreading my wings and catching myself a metre above the ground, pulling off a ninety degree change of direction and zooming towards the camp centre. There came yells of, "Stop her," and "Kill it," along with one particularly observant individual shouting, "She's going for the barrier emitter! Defend it!"

At least that reassured me I was heading in the right direction, but the powerful mages went into action, and by the time the structure I was aiming for came into sight it had been enclosed in an earthen dome, mages flying around it and launching lances of holy magic at me. I ignored them, throwing my own flame at the dome instead, which wilted under the heat. Diving through the hole put the shield between me and the attacking mages, giving me time to locate a window and enter the structure.

New respawn point activated Success! There was actually a statue there, but the stance differed from the dungeon. The Goddess looked down over an altar, hands by her side. I didn't have time for sightseeing, though. I took out my letter, left it on the altar, stepped well away from it, item boxed my equipment and switched back to my nightie, waiting for the idiots to come rushing in. Sure enough, they arrived within seconds.

"Come on then, kill me. I won't resist, but I'll be back in one hour. In the meantime, read the damn letter. I left it on the altar." Holy magic tolerance advanced to level 4 No-one bothered replying with words, but one of the stronger mages launched a burst of holy magic at me, knocking off half my health bar. That was followed up by a couple of spear strikes, which did nothing but snap the shafts of the spears. It took another blast of holy magic to finish the job.

Holy magic tolerance advanced to level 5 Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. When I woke up, I was feeling strangely lethargic. It was a struggle to even open my eyes. That was alarming; was my respawn cheat starting to break down, now that I'd left the dungeon? Did I have limited lives now? As I gradually came back to my senses, I noticed the other things that were wrong. The feeling of cold metal wrapped around my neck, wrists and ankles.

I couldn't move. I was restrained in a semi-lying position, legs slightly apart, arms by my side a short distance from my body. There was a strange sucking sensation on my stomach, and as my vision unblurred, I could make out tubes running from me to the ceiling. Mana drain resistance advanced to level 17 My mana bar was empty. They were doing something to drain me of mana? And I'd gained seventeen levels?! This wasn't a respawn; I must have been unconscious for ages! Drat, why hadn't I activated trigger respawn?

Because I hadn't even considered the possibility that they'd go for a capture instead of a kill. Besides, trusting idiot that I was, I'd assumed that once they read the letter, they'd start treating me like a hero. Maybe they hadn't even bothered looking at it. Since they hadn't killed me, presumably no-one got cursed. I hadn't activated trigger respawn before, but there was no reason not to now. I hit the switch. Nothing happened. Or rather, the switch was stuck. It wouldn't let me push it.

The obviousness of the problem hit me like a brick; trigger respawn consumed mana. I knew item box required it, but given the poor UI that made it impossible to see the bars with clarity, that fact wasn't obvious unless I used it multiple times in quick succession. With the boost from draconic power, I'd never seen item box shrink my mana bar. Trigger respawn wasn't something I'd ever used multiple times within a few seconds, so I wouldn't have noticed a small mana drain, even with my original mana pool.

With friend of fear preventing me from descending into panic, I tried to get a better look around the room. The metal collar around my neck, fixing me to whatever contraption I was bound to, restricted my range of motion, but that made no difference; the room was pitch black, and I'd switched to 'looking' with olfactory perception without even noticing that I'd done so. I was bound to a tilted metal table, my head slightly raised.

As well as the thick irons, there were additional straps around my forehead, chest and upper arms and legs. My wings were pinned beneath me, and wouldn't stretch freely. They must have been restrained by something too. The room was small, not much bigger than was required to contain me. There was no other furniture beyond a contraption above me, fixed to the ceiling, into which the tubes ran. Some magitek device to harvest mana? The room stank of urine.

I was naked, and beyond merely missing my clothing, scales had been carefully harvested from my right leg, too, the raw, damaged skin beneath wrapped in bandages. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't use trigger respawn or item box. Even my draconic might wasn't sufficient to tear myself free of my restraints. I couldn't use manipulate mana to boost my strength further. I could use my silk, since that consumed stamina instead of mana, but I didn't have anything to do with it.

With my hands restrained, I couldn't even use it to plug my mouth and suffocate myself. In all my time in the dungeon, had I ever been so helpless? I'd feared being in this position; captured, with no means to commit suicide or use trigger respawn. But I'd assumed strategies like putting me to sleep permanently. Draining my mana while leaving me conscious was an even worse horror. And it was the humans who had summoned me, not the demons, who were doing this. Or at least, so I assumed.

The humans being defeated while I was unconscious would be even worse. There was a small window of hope there, though. Why was I conscious? Obviously, I'd been out for a long time, given that I'd apparently pissed myself. Harvesting scales must have taken time too, and I'd had time to build up my mana drain resistance. That must be what had done it. The rest of my status hadn't changed, so my resistance must have reached the point of fighting back against the equipment. I could gain three more levels.

Would that be enough to start regenerating my mana pool? What if I threw in manipulate mana to try to reverse what the equipment was doing? I did my best to pull back on the mana that was leaving my body. Mana drain resistance advanced to level 18 I felt a pang of hunger, which drew my attention to the fact that I hadn't eaten for a good few hours before arriving at the fortress. Given how long I'd been unconscious, I should have been seriously thirsty.

It stood to reason that if they wanted to keep me long term, they'd need to feed me. I must have had visitors from time to time. I'd need to escape before they turned up and noticed I'd woken up. Mana drain resistance advanced to level 19 Some of the lethargy left me, the equipment having a harder time draining me dry. I made another attempt at actively clawing back my mana, but I still couldn't quite do it. There was one more level available. Could I make it? There were noises outside.

Nothing strong enough for perceive presence to pick up, but it was obvious I was about to have visitors. Dammit, I wasn't ready! Judging the chances of success of any sort of conversation to be slim to nil, I decided to feign sleep. Light spilt into the room as the door opened. Eyes closed, I used my olfactory perception to watch two soldiers walk inside, one carrying a small bucket of foul-smelling slop.

"Why do we have to feed this demon?" complained the one holding the bucket.

"Because the mana it puts out is more than every other demon we've captured combined, as you should well know if you paid any attention in the debrief after the big attack."

"No, no. I know all that, that the only reason the barrier held was because of this thing. That it saved us, yadda, yadda. I mean, why do we have to feed it? Us, specifically."

"Because anyone with the proper medical training is busy dealing with the casualties from the latest skirmish." The second guard huffed, obviously not happy being lumped with Katie feeding duty. Well, the feeling was mutual. I was perfectly capable of feeding myself! Hell, I could probably live off the irony alone for the next week. I'd saved the fortress? It took everything I had to not burst into laughter and give away my wakefulness.

It was also interesting that they seemed to actively control their barriers, unlike in the dungeon, if they were deliberately feeding it mana to strengthen it. Was that similar to how I fed them mana crystals? Did mana crystals exist in this world too? The first guard took out a thick tube with a funnel on the end, which soured my mood rather quickly. I suppose feeding a comatose person without choking them does require a little more effort than stuffing food into their mouth.

No doubt they were about to shove that thing down my throat. They did, which was horribly uncomfortable, and then they tipped the entire bucket into it, before pulling the tube back up and leaving me feeling stuffed and nauseous. I repaid their kindness by waiting until one was standing downstream of me, then urinating over him, being rewarded with a girly squeal for my troubles. Once again, I struggled not to laugh despite my predicament, watching as he fled from the room, the other guard in hysterics behind him.