Chương 20: Impatience

While Liesel managed to convince them to leave, they weren't completely assured that she would be fine. They would check in the morning if she didn't return by then. Liesel only wanted an hour or so with the armor. She'd be beyond exhausted beyond that point. Her goal was to land a strike on its ceramic fists. If they could give her a way into its armor, it might be enough to kill it.

She was not going to risk her life for the Archive Quest, but killing the guardian meant she'd be saving two years of her life that would be spent on gathering prestige points for the Soul Weaving skill. It waited for her impassively, but Liesel felt something had changed. It seemed a little more aware, dangerous. It did grab her hand and guided her into the mist, so it possessed the capacity to do more than fight.

"Can you speak?" Liesel asked, despite knowing better. She was never supposed to invite a demon to a conversation, give them the status of intelligence on her own accord. This one didn't answer her question, regardless. Once she was close to it, the armor unsheathed its sword. Liesel channeled the Materiality into Soul Veins, regulating it around her body. She enforced her sword and arm as she guarded against the guardian's strike.

And even then, the power behind it sent her skidding over the ice, far enough that instead of following her for a successive strike, it went back to the sword's sheath stabbed into the ground. It felt less like she was fighting someone with a sword and more like a war maul. She approached it again. She spread out the Materiality evenly. If she were pushed away by a single strike, she'd not even be able to observe its technique, let alone gaps in it.

As it struck again, Liesel took a step forward, enforcing the Materiality into her arms, blade, and feet at the same time. And as soon as the swords clashed, she dispelled the enforcement to shake away the impact. It withdrew the sword in a smooth arc immediately and performed another overhead swing. The gap between the two strikes was far too close for Liesel to brace for another strike. Though she managed to enforce her sword, its power ripped the blade away from her arm.

Liesel withdrew immediately, stepping out of the two-meter mark from the sheath. She had lingered there for this reason alone. She blinked as she took the leather gloves off her hands. Her fingers were shaking. She clenched them once, pulled the gloves back on, and walked over to her sword. In terms of raw power, Liesel could imagine how strong Kurvam was to stand strike for strike against the armored demon.

He was certainly not a total waste of space, but it wasn't the question of strength that made his presence unimaginably nasty. It was the character of the man who possessed that strength. As a child, Liesel always imagined that only the most honorable and disciplined people must be the ones who were the strongest and held the highest positions in the Empire. It was not even much of a thought, as much as it was inherently woven into her mind. It felt right. Why else would it be any other way?

They were humans, not demons, weren't they? In the first year of the academy, Liesel desperately tried to cling to her childhood belief—the idea of kind and wise students, who would only fight in the most honorable way, being at the top of the academic years. Somewhere inside her, that anger still lingered. At a man like him, who was undeserving of his power, and yet he'd continue to climb higher in the hierarchy and someday become the Chancellor of the City. He's better dead than at the helm of the realm.

She inched closer to the duel line. A little more cautious and worried about the Archives' quest. Her opponent was the antithesis of everything that made her effective in combat. It lacked flesh. It was faster than her, and it cared very little for her mental fortitude. I cannot wait two years to buy the second Archetype Skill.

Around midnight, Liesel managed to return to the base. Her right hand wore a laceration. She was sure the blade had cracked her collarbone, but she was proud it was only that. Her impact-resistant armour was thoroughly destroyed, though. Liesel knocked on the door, though there was no need to lock it in the first place. The barrier would keep all strangers from trespassing. A minute later, Kurvam opened the door. It must have been past midnight. And he stood there, blocking her entrance.

As he noted her condition, a grin stretched on his face.

"Back already?"

"Perhaps." His eyes lingered on her shoulder, taking in the broken collarbone. His grin grew a bit twisted. It made Liesel's skin crawl.

"Guess you oversold yourself?" For once, Liesel decided to say nothing to his retort. It was not the correct way to handle someone like him while she was injured. An answer would provoke his short temper, though the silence gave him the idea that he was dominant.

"There's no one in the hall. You can't defend yourself. These are the moments for which you make allies, you know." He grinned, leaning down to her eye level.

"Can you move aside?" Liesel asked.

"I like you this way. But I know as soon as your shoulder is healed, you will be a rude bitch again." He took out a dagger from his pocket.

"I think I should make you remember where your place is..." The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Liesel took a step forward.

"Do you want to experience acid melting your face, your skull, your brain, your hand, or your ribcage and lungs and heart? I can't promise which one it would be, but I promise you a healer's magic won't fix it if you are lucky enough to survive. How many hours will your soul cling to your body as it melts before you die, or will you beg someone to kill you?" His grin vanished. Making a sour face, he created a little distance again.

"My ally, baby Vera, is your weak will. Because I know you can't imagine bearing a fraction of the pain and humiliation that you want to inflict on others, I don't need any other ally."

"You think you can take out that acid?" His voice was slightly uneven and feverish from the anger simmering underneath his calm veil.

"You can know." He didn't, as she had always known. His hatred for her was growing, probably, but it still lacked the self-destructive element that would actually put her at risk.

"Welcome back. And watch your back... who knows when you might slip too close, and instead of your shoulder, it's your neck." Kurvam Vera stepped back and marched into the hall.

"We are leaving early!" He shouted from the hall.

"Everyone, go to sleep now!" He slammed the door behind him. At the dining-cum-meeting table, Verka and Garvin were playing a card game.

"Please wait here, Miss Wyrn. I will call Garol." Liesel nodded. She settled her blade against the table's leg and sat on the chair. She glanced at Garvin. He shifted his gaze back to the table. Kurvam was not quiet enough that Garvin and Verka wouldn't have heard him. Verka would not go against Kurvam's wishes, and Liesel almost felt inclined to believe Garvin would most likely participate in her humiliation.

"I was going to stop him," Garvin said in a low voice, "But Verka... I didn't want to risk my neck."

"I make no accusation," Liesel said. As she allowed her nerves to calm, the burning agony from her wound started spreading throughout her body like thousands upon thousands of ants were crawling inside her skin.

"Oh, divines," Garol Borran uttered in horror as he regarded the shoulder wound. The cut on her right arm was minor compared to the one on her shoulder.

"Why'd you even try to fight it, when we are sure it can't be damaged?"

"Training. It's the best kind of dummy."

"Deadly kind," he scoffed.

"Though I apologize for ruining your night."

"It's fine. I had it easy because of you until now. So yeah, I should've counted on having to pay it back like this." Auram had offered to help her. But Liesel refused. She didn't want to tire the spirit out, especially when Auram was not part of the expedition, not to mention that Auram had already done enough by finding the Materiality Core of the Mind Eater. It took about twenty minutes to heal her shoulder. It was rather fast, which was a relief. Garol Borran was a great healer.

Except for the Leader, the Seer had been great at picking out the people for the expedition, and somehow he decided to lend it all to the whims of a bafoon with a temper like a firecracker. Her shoulder was not completely healed. It would take about two days, but she wouldn't feel much unless she strained herself again. After showering, Liesel returned to her room. She had to fix her vest as she didn't have another.

"What if he didn't back off?" Auram complained once the healer was gone.

"I was right. You should've let me heal you."

"Except for the fragile attempt at intimidation, he could've done nothing, regardless of what my threat was," Liesel said.

"I am not just someone he hates for not bowing down to him. He almost died at my hands. All he's trying to do is wrench back the feeling of powerlessness that my presence makes him feel. He severely overestimates my strength and resourcefulness, because he couldn't have lost so easily otherwise."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing," Liesel said. She'd rather not risk being on the wrong side of the Saffron Helm's rulers.

"The pleasant and almost dignified treatment by the Seer seems to give you a wrong idea, Auram. I am nothing more than a half-prisoner to the city. They can arrest me for any reason, and having put my blade on the Seer's nephew already jeopardizes my standing. The only reason I am allowed to move about is this expedition and the necessity to have an experienced person guiding it. When almost every ascendant in the city is fighting an existential war on the western front.

Kurvam is off limits no matter how he behaves."

"That's just dumb," Auram huffed.

"He's an unpleasant person." Liesel smiled.

"I should probably go to sleep. I didn't sleep last night either."

Liesel jolted out of her sleep. It was still dark outside. Someone was banging on her door. Groggily, she reached over, picking up her coat. Donning it over her shoulder, she picked up her sword. Spreading Materiality into her limbs, she opened the door. Sure enough, the expedition leader was there, smiling brightly. Liesel missed her Soul Seekers' captain. He was genuinely a saint compared to this man.

"Sword in hand as soon as you wake up?" He grinned mockingly. She glanced past him, and Verka was already in the hall. He, too, seemed tired.

"Not everyone has a daddy that hires them a personal Warden. Iron does the job just nicely. I am sure you will experience it in your dreams."

"I earned it," he said, his smile falling to the wayside.

"Nothing's given out of pity in the line of succession," he pointed his finger at Verka, "I earned him, and earned—" jabbed his finger at her, "—your loyalty to me too as your captain.

"What do you want?"

"It's morning! We are going to explore the mists today." Liesel blinked.

"No matter where you enter the mist, it already leads to the guarded door. There's nothing to search for." Liesel tried to slam the door shut, but Kurvam put his foot between the door and the frame.

"How dare you try to close the door on my face—!" Liesel drew Materiality into her foot and kicked the door. Crushing the toe of the chancellor's son, the door ricocheted back. The leader's face turned purplish-red as he jumped back, bouncing on one foot as he hurled rather colorful curses at her. He might be as good as a street urchin.

"I am so sorry, I thought it was my shoe?" Liesel grinned, leaning against the door.

"Verka, our leader, is most certainly injured. I think you should help him back to his room. I will take care of today's agenda." Slowly, the rest of the team also huddled into the living space, curiously observing the leader whose foot was only red at the moment and barely swollen. It would get worse. Even the door frame seemed to be damaged. Verka was there to help him, but he couldn't approach a wild boar while it was lashing out.

"Did you stab him?" Sarkot whispered, leaning against the wall beside the door frame.

"Nope," she rubbed her eyes as she yawned. Her sleep was gone. But she was now teetering on the edge of exhaustion and sleep deprivation. She didn't restrict the Materiality flowing through her body. Fiya was the last to leave her room.

"Liesel..." Fiya mumbled as she crossed the space Kurvam was imposing himself in. She ignored the team leader.

"I am glad you are not hurt." Liesel shrugged.

"I... am too." She could've been honest, but she felt her image in Fiya's eyes would shatter as soon as she heard about the kind of injuries Liesel had sustained. Healer Borran was glaring at her from his seat for lying, though. He should've offered to ease Kurvam's pain by this point.

"How's your spell memorization coming along?"

"Almost done with the second one."

"I see," Liesel nodded.

"Do you want to try it in the afternoon again? Or... well, in a few hours," she said, looking outside the window.

"I like the afternoon," Fiya yawned.

"I want to sleep. What happened?" Liesel raised both eyebrows as she wondered aloud, "I think Sir Vera stepped on a nail..." Liesel drawled.

"Verka, why don't you take him back to his room? I will take over the morning routine."