Chương 28: Chapter 26 — A Better Bag

"Anything of value?" Adriane asked as she stepped back into the clearing, pushing through the last of the brush. Chelsea followed close behind, still wringing water from her hair as droplets ran down her neck and soaked into the collar of her clothes.

"A lot of junk weapons," Edgar replied without looking up from what he was sorting.

"Maybe a few pieces Chelsea can practice with, but nothing worth real coin. They were low rank. We did find a three-slot bag on the leader." Adriane gave a small nod, already processing the information.

"Level requirement?"

"Bags don't have one," Edgar said. He finally looked over at her, the porcelain mask tilting slightly.

"You planning to give it to the kid?"

"It wouldn't sell for much," Adriane answered simply.

"And it was her kill." The mask dipped in what passed for agreement. Edgar reached down, grabbed the small leather pouch, and tossed it toward Chelsea without warning.

"Hey, kid." Chelsea barely had time to react. The pouch smacked against her chest, and she fumbled it once before managing to catch it properly. She stared down at it for a second, then back up at them, confused.

"Attach it to your belt," Adriane instructed.

"Then reach inside. You should feel how many items it can hold. Those are the slots." Chelsea clipped it onto her belt and cautiously slipped her hand inside. Her expression changed almost immediately. It didn't feel like a normal bag. There weren't separate pockets or compartments. Instead, it felt like reaching into a space that was much larger than it should have been. Structured, but not physical. Like invisible cubes waiting to be filled.

She pulled her hand out and looked at the bag again, turning it over as if that would explain it.

"How many?" Adriane asked. Chelsea hesitated, then reached in again, concentrating this time.

"I feel…" she murmured, counting slowly.

"Three rows of five. So… fifteen?"

"Wrong," Bea said immediately, not even looking up from the weapons she was carrying.

"It's a three-slot. Even I'm still using a twelve-slot." She patted the much larger bag at her hip with a smug little grin. Chelsea frowned and checked again, more carefully this time.

"No, there are definitely three rows of five," she insisted.

"Maybe I'm doing it wrong?" Adriane let out a quiet laugh under her breath.

"You're not doing it wrong. Call it another perk of being a summoned champion." Bea scowled.

"That's not fair." Before Chelsea could respond, heavy footsteps approached. Dewey emerged from the trees, a large sack slung over one shoulder. He looked a bit flushed, his expression shifting as soon as he noticed Adriane standing there.

"Adriane!" She turned toward him.

"What's that?"

"Busted," Bea muttered under her breath. Dewey hesitated, glancing down at the sack like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have.

"I… uh…" Chelsea didn't need him to finish. She could smell it. The scent hit her the moment he got close, rich and metallic and unmistakable. Her nose had never worked like this before. Now it was impossible to ignore.

"It's…" Dewey looked between Adriane and Chelsea, then straightened slightly.

"It's so we don't have to hunt for little sister for a while," he said quickly, the words coming out faster than usual.

"The remaining twenty-two hearts." Chelsea's face lit up.

"Aww, Dewey, that's so kind," she said.

"You didn't have to grab that many. We should be to the…" She trailed off mid-sentence, her expression shifting as something clicked. Bea's grin widened.

"There you go. Put it all together, champ." Chelsea slowly turned her head toward Adriane.

"Twenty-two?" Adriane met her gaze evenly.

"You don't have bandits in your world, do you?" Chelsea just stared at her.

"It's common," Adriane continued, her tone matter-of-fact.

"When they're caught or cornered, they start telling stories. About villages. About being forced. About not having a choice." Chelsea glanced at the sack again, then back at her sister.

"But what if they were telling the truth?" she asked. There was no anger in her voice. Just quiet curiosity, and maybe the faintest trace of something more emotional beginning to take root.

"Best not to leave it to chance," Adriane said.

"There are too many ways that ends badly. They could run back to whatever camp they came from and return with stronger allies. They could go off and find another village. Another group of people who don't stand a chance. And this lot…" Her expression hardened slightly.

"They had a taste for children, if you remember." Chelsea nodded slowly. She did remember. She just hadn't wanted to think about it.

"And lastly," Adriane continued, "he recognized me." Chelsea blinked.

"That's… bad?"

"It is when you're running from the kingdom you're still technically inside of," Bea answered, her tone dry. That settled it. Chelsea let out a small breath and shrugged.

"More food for me, then." Bea's reaction was immediate. Her mouth fell open in exaggerated disappointment.

"But you're the summoned champion. The likable little demon girl. You're supposed to get upset and yell at us for being heartless monsters." Chelsea looked at her, unbothered.

"Beatrix, the only time I will ever call you heartless is when I've removed it from your chest and I'm eating it for lunch." For a second, Bea just stared at her. Then her expression shifted. The shock melted away, replaced by that familiar, unhinged grin. Her eyes lit up with something delighted and a little unwell as she lunged forward and wrapped Chelsea in a tight hug.

"Sorry, Adriane," she said, squeezing her.

"I have a new favorite sister." Adriane rolled her eyes.

"Alright, enough. We've been standing still too long. We need to move." She gestured toward the scattered gear.

"Store what you can. Bea, what's the level requirement on that spear?" Bea didn't even need to check.

"Already looked. Level four because of a useless enchant. Plus one to Constitution. On a spear." She shook her head.

"What a waste."

"Perfect for Chelsea." Adriane stepped forward, took the spear, and snapped off the lower portion of the shaft like it was nothing. She handed the broken piece to Chelsea. Bea watched closely, her curiosity piqued. The moment Chelsea took it, the wood extended in her grip, growing smoothly until it became a full-length spear again. Bea's head tilted.

"Wait… actually?" She moved, grabbing the remaining piece of the spear from the ground. She gave it a few test thrusts, gauging the balance, then nodded to Adriane.

"Break it here. And here." Adriane followed her instructions, snapping the weapon into a more precise segment. Chelsea let her current spear fall, and Bea handed over the new piece. Again, the weapon reformed in her hands, this time extending from both ends. Her grip landed naturally in the correct position, balanced and ready without her needing to adjust.

"This way," Bea said, "when you pick it up, your hands are already where they should be." Chelsea shifted her grip slightly, testing the weight. It felt right in a way the other weapons hadn't. Comfortable. Natural.

"Has The Eyes leveled up yet?" Adriane asked. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Chelsea shook her head absently, her focus still on the spear.

"Keep using it while we move," Adriane said.

"We'll store the rest of this until we reach the fae city." Adriane, The Silver Sword As they gathered up the remaining weapons, Chelsea noticed something strange. The others tossed items into her apparently massive bag one after another, and even as the slots filled, none of them felt as significant as the spear in her hands. It wasn't just a tool. There was something about it that made her feel safer. Adriane caught the look on her face.

"When we get to Junstruce, I have a better one for you."

"Don't tell me you're giving her mine," Bea complained as they started moving again. Beatrix, Friend to All Chelsea barely heard them. She was too busy marveling at the way the bag worked. The pile of hearts Dewey had collected took up a single slot, just one, despite the sheer volume of it. That left room for everything else. As they walked, Chelsea's gaze drifted back over the battlefield one last time. Every body had been opened in the same place, cut cleanly to give Dewey access to what he needed. Efficient.

Thorough. She glanced up at him, then bumped her shoulder lightly against his arm. He looked down at her.

"Thanks for the hearts," she said, smiling in a way that was almost normal.

"That was really kind of you." Dewey, The Honorable Dewey's face flushed a deep red as he tried to respond, clearly caught off guard.

"I… well… the… it was no need hunting." He shook his head as if trying to reset his thoughts.

"Hunting. We won't need to do it now. We have our own food." Chelsea watched him struggle for a second, then decided to push just a little.

"Oh," she said, nodding slowly.

"I thought you were just trying to be nice to me. That makes sense though. Efficiency. Very practical." Dewey straightened slightly, then immediately faltered again.

"Well, no. I mean, yes… but…"

"Chelsea, leave the poor boy alone," Bea called over her shoulder. She had turned around and was now walking backward just to watch the exchange, a grin tugging at her lips.

"Even I know when to stop torturing someone." Chelsea held up her hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright. I'm done." She glanced back up at Dewey and gave him a small, genuine smile.

"But really, thank you. I mean it. I'm still kind of having a moral crisis about eating them, but it was… sweet."

"Just eat them," Bea said dismissively.

"It's not cannibalism. You're expected to eat humans. That's part of the whole demon thing. You know, horns, terrifying teeth, creepy eyes…"

"Okay, seriously, what is wrong with my eyes?" Chelsea shot back immediately. Beatrix, Friend to All"Oh no, nothing," Bea replied with a bright, entirely unconvincing smile. She turned back around and slipped between Edgar and Adriane, clearly choosing not to elaborate. Edgar, The Silent Explosion The group continued on, the forest slowly shifting around them as the light began to fade. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows through the trees, and the air cooled just enough to make the movement feel easier.

Chelsea had been using The Eyes on and off the entire time, checking herself, checking them, pushing the skill as much as she could. It finally happened. A small notification flickered into her vision. The Eyes lvl 5 acquired.

"Adriane!" Chelsea nearly shouted, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"The Eyes is level five now!" Adriane turned, a smile already forming.

"Perfect timing," she said. She looked around, taking in the surrounding trees and the clearing they had just entered.

"This is a good place to stop. We'll make camp here." Everyone moved immediately. Dewey found a fallen log nearby and set to work, splitting it down into usable pieces with efficient, practiced swings. Edgar gathered armfuls of dry kindling from the forest floor, moving silently between the trees. Adriane unpacked a sturdy cooking pot along with a collapsible frame to hang it over the fire once it was lit. Bea… did nothing. She simply sat down, watching the others work with mild interest.

Chelsea decided to help the only way she knew how. She wandered a short distance and began gathering large rocks, carrying them back one at a time and setting them in a rough circle. She watched as Dewey went deeper into the woods to gather more wood. When she returned with another armful, she noticed the remaining three of them watching her confused. Even Edgar somehow managed to look judgmental through a completely expressionless mask.

"Chels," Adriane said carefully.

"Honey… why?" Chelsea blinked.

"To make a circle around the fire?"

"Why?" Adriane repeated, clearly not following. Chelsea hesitated.

"Uh… I…" She frowned, thinking it through.

"I actually don't know? I went camping with my grandparents when I was little, and my uncle had me build one. He said it kept the forest safe from the fire." There was a pause.

"Let her build her circle," Bea said lazily. Adriane shrugged.

"Alright. Go for it." Chelsea went back to arranging the stones, adjusting them into a more even ring. About halfway through, Dewey returned with a fresh pile of wood balanced in his arms. He slowed as he noticed what she was doing.

"Little sister," he said, tilting his head slightly.

"What are the rocks for?" Chelsea didn't even look up this time.

"Keeps the ghosts away." Dewey nodded immediately, as if that made perfect sense.

"Good use of rocks." Chelsea paused mid-placement, glancing up at Dewey as he accepted her answer without question. For a second, she just blinked at him, surprised he hadn't challenged it. Then she went back to arranging the rocks, pressing one into place with a bit more care than necessary. Bea, on the other hand, wasn't letting it go. She let out a quiet breath of laughter, shaking her head.

"She doesn't even know why she's doing it. Something about her uncle or whatever." Chelsea didn't even look up.

"Fine, you got me. It's a demon sacrificial circle. I have to appease my dark overlords with proper geometry." Her voice went completely flat.

"If I mess it up, they take my soul." Dewey stood there for a moment, considering that.

"I'm not sure which of those is true," he admitted. Bea burst out laughing, the sound sharp and unrestrained. Even Edgar let out a low chuckle, the noise strange coming from behind the mask. Chelsea smirked to herself and set the final stone in place.

"Chels," Adriane called over as she adjusted the cooking apparatus.

"I know you don't like your food cooked, but do you want to try one of the hearts with a bit of sear on it?" Chelsea shook her head immediately.

"No, I'm good. They're perfect the way they are." She paused, then added, "But please remind me to wipe my face after. That was so embarrassing when that guy pointed out I had blood all over my mouth."

"But it's cute," Bea said, not even trying to hide her amusement.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Edgar added calmly.

"It is… endearing. It highlights your more youthful traits." Chelsea's mouth pulled into a pout.

"Okay, how old do you have to be to be considered an adult here?" No one answered right away. Adriane sighed softly and stepped in.

"Sixteen." Chelsea straightened immediately.

"Ha. See? I'm not a child. I am officially an adult. So please tell me when I have blood on my face."

"Adults don't need to be reminded to wipe their mouths," Bea shot back. Chelsea narrowed her eyes at her.

"And how old are the rest of you, anyway? I know Dewey's nineteen." Bea flicked her fingers, and the kindling caught fire instantly, the flames building in a controlled, steady burn.

"Twenty-four," she said casually.

"Thirty-seven," Edgar added.

"Twenty-nine," Adriane said. Chelsea stared at her.

"Twenty-nine?" she repeated, disbelief written all over her face.

"You're still in your twenties?" Adriane frowned slightly.

"How old did you think I was?" Chelsea hesitated, searching for the right wording.

"You're just so… motherly. And you're S-rank. I figured that took forever. I was thinking, like, mid-thirties at least."

"I'm offended," Adriane said, placing a hand over her chest in mock injury.

"And what exactly makes me 'motherly'?"

"You wiped my face the other day. Back at the safe house," Chelsea said immediately.

"Right after you slapped the shit out of Bea." Dewey nodded in agreement.

"That is a good point." Adriane's eyes shifted between the two of them.

"Do I need to slap both of you?"

"Try it," Chelsea said, flashing a grin and clicking her teeth together twice.

"I'll bite it off." Edgar tilted his head slightly, redirecting the conversation.

"Adriane mentioned you killed two adventurers at the palace. Do you know who they were?" Chelsea thought for a moment.

"Uh… a guy named Judd. And his older brother, I think." Bea snorted.

"You did the guild a favor. Those two were complete pricks." Dewey shifted slightly, his voice quieter as he added, "Mardie told little sister that he watched his mother burn to death during a raid." Bea looked at him blankly.

"Okay? And?" Dewey didn't look away from the fire.

"Little sister killed him by trapping him and burning him." There was a brief silence. Then Bea's face lit up.

"Damn, Chelsea!" she said, grinning wide.

"That's fucked up."

"He forgot to mention that it was a match where only magic was allowed," Chelsea said, rolling her eyes.

"Guess who doesn't have magic. It's me. Hi. I'm the problem." She placed a hand dramatically over her head, then pointed down at herself.

"I saw an opportunity and took it." Edgar tilted his head slightly.

"So you are truly fireproof?"

"I am." Chelsea stepped closer to the fire without hesitation and reached her hand forward, sliding it beneath the cooking pot and straight into the flame. She held it there for a few seconds, the fire curling around her fingers and licking at her palm, before pulling it back just as the sleeve of her armor started to catch. When she lifted her hand, there wasn't a mark on it.

"That's useful," Bea said, eyeing it with interest.

"Alright, enough talking," Adriane said, her tone shifting back into something more focused.

"It's time to figure out just how strong your champion ability actually is." Everyone's attention shifted to Chelsea. She blinked.

"Okay… how do we do that?"

"Hand your spear to Bea," Adriane said. Chelsea passed it over. The moment Bea took hold of it, the weapon shrank back down into a short, unimpressive stick. Bea snorted.

"Wow. Terrifying."

"Be serious," Adriane said sharply.

"This matters."

"Yeah, yeah," Bea replied, rolling her eyes. She focused on the item in her hand.

"Name's grey." Adriane nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"No level requirement. It's a spear. Last word is… I think it says broken." Adriane straightened slightly.

"So it's confirmed. A broken spear of grey classification with no level requirement."

"Yeah," Bea said dryly.

"That's what I just said."

"Give it back to Chelsea," Adriane instructed.

"And Chelsea, use The Eyes on it." Bea tossed it back. The instant it landed in Chelsea's hands, it expanded again into a full spear. Chelsea narrowed her eyes slightly, focusing the way she had learned to. The world shifted just a bit as she tried to look past what was in front of her and into what The Eyes showed instead. It took a second, the same strange adjustment as before, like trying to read something that existed just out of focus.

"Take your time," Dewey said gently.

"Do your best."

"No, I've got it," Chelsea said, blinking once more before everything clicked into place.

"Okay, here we go." She read it carefully, making sure she didn't miss anything. Defensive Spear of Heavy Thrust Required level: 8 (-7) 2h Spear +4 Constitution 2x Strength while thrusting Defensive Spear of Heavy Thrust Classification: Uncommon