Law, page 7
The clingy harpy returned to her usual self after about ten minutes of generous head patting. The way she managed to be so childish in one moment and yet mature and collected in the next was quite odd, though also inconvenient. At the very least, she seemed to have been busy fulfilling her duties, as her dungeon home was decorated with a plethora of trophies from defeated foes. Mostly the bare skulls and battered helmets of monsters and men, though one piece in particular caught Boxxy’s attention.
“Is that… a griffin’s beak?”
“Affirmative.”
The shapeshifter’s shoulders drooped in exasperation.
“Didn’t I tell you to steer clear from the Inquisition?”
“Clarification – I did not fight it, I merely finished it.”
“Explain.”
“I found the griffin on the mountain above, near the summit. It was heavily wounded and had crashed after trying to fly despite its injuries. It was so weak that if the poisons in the air didn’t finish it, the harpies at the summit would have. I ended its suffering.”
“I see. What did you do with the body?”
“Collected the beak, talons, and a few feathers, then kicked it down the slope and into the jungle below. The carcass was gone without a trace after two days.”
Though she was never the best at subterfuge, Jen fully understood the importance of covering her tracks. This was where Velos’s infamously voracious wildlife came in handy. Even a house-sized griffin was completely swallowed up in no time at all, bones and all.
“That’s good enough, I suppose. What could’ve hurt it that badly, though?”
Even though griffins were not native to Velos, they were at least as strong as adult hydras, possibly stronger if one factored in their ability to fly. Not many things would’ve brought down something like that.
“Unknown. However, I did sense traces of Blight infection,” Jen reported.
“Hm. I guess the idiots are getting closer to that Aleister fellow.”
The Heroes of the Hammer and Sun had remained on Velos for the express purpose of hunting down the rogue Blight Lord that had orchestrated the recent Rampage. This development was hardly surprising, but Boxxy expected it later rather than sooner. Most likely Nao had been coerced to offer his assistance via the LIAR even though he stayed behind for other reasons. Regardless, the shapeshifter was not only glad to have missed local events, but was looking forward to remaining uninvolved. It hated fighting the undead, mostly because they all tasted horrible.
“You should be more careful,” it warned Jen. “If the Inquisition is making moves, they might come to investigate this place since the ambient toxins could be hiding the presence of Blight.”
“… Is such a thing possible?”
“Don’t know, but if I can think of it, so can someone else. If anyone comes snooping around and stumbles into the dungeon, don’t bother defending it. Just escape, stay out of sight, and wait for me near the Gauntlet temple.”
“Understood.”
“Good. Now, stand still for a second while I check your progress.”
Boxxy called up the dungeon management screen and brought its Surveillance Net back online. It normally kept it turned off because it gave alerts every time Jen walked in or out of the place, which were far too annoying to be worth the bother. However, the module in question had to be enabled in order for the Invader Analysis function to become available. Though the information it provided was only at the level of a Basic Appraisal, it was enough to see Jen’s Job progress, and the newest recruit had plenty to show.
The harpy had broken through the limit on her Warrior Job by maxing out all of its Skills, putting her at halfway past Level 56. Her Griffin and Harpy Jobs were both on the cusp of Level 16. As expected, progress slowed dramatically after the first few levels. Jen had still gained nearly 40 total Job Levels in total since her transformation three weeks ago. Considering that time frame, and that she had well over 200 Levels prior, there was only one way to describe her growth rate.
“Impressive!” the monster remarked. “I knew I was right to have high expectations of you. Keep this up, and you’ll get your next Rank Up in no time.”
The harpy blushed lightly and her feline ears twitched in embarrassment, both signs that she was still weak to compliments.
“However, try to rely more on your natural weapons,” Boxxy continued. “Your Harpy and Griffin Jobs should get a bigger portion of the XP when you kill stuff with your claws and talons rather than your staff.”
“Noted.”
Boxxy was fairly certain it had given her this advice at the start, but it couldn’t hurt to repeat it. That aside, something on this Invader Analysis result struck it as… odd.
“Another thing. Why did you rename yourself?”
“Because I wanted to. And I could. So, I did.”
“Of course, you did. Goddamn furgl grunlin,” it grumbled something unintelligible.
“You are displeased. Do you not approve of my new name?”
“Not really, no. I get that it’s a sign of fealty, but ‘Boxxy’s Little Birdie’ is just wrong. On so many levels.”
“Should I change it to ‘Boxxy’s Big Bird,’ then?”
“No, see, the ‘little’ isn’t the issue here. I mean, it kind of is, but- Just change it back to what it was before. Or you can just use ‘Jen’ if you’d rather leave your former identity behind.”
Fizzy had something of a hang-up in that regard, so it was possible this harpy might’ve thought similarly. Then again, names and families were far more important to dwarves and gnomes than they were to other cultures, so perhaps this renaming was just a whim. In the end, it didn’t matter all that much what she called herself. Should she get Appraised, her Ultimate Skill and Job composition would identify her as ‘Jennifer Jackson’ no matter what her name tag said. If that happened – and that was a big ‘if’ – Boxxy would rather not have its name on her Status.
“Understood, I’ll take care of it,” Jen conceded. “Oh, by the way, I left some gifts for you in the golden chest in my room.”
Boxxy was standing over the shiny container mere moments after the word ‘gifts’ left the harpy’s lips. It eagerly flipped it open and was delighted to see a small pile of treasure and a few magic items, no doubt leftovers of the poor saps that fell victim to Jen’s Level grind. It would appear she had also hit the jackpot, as one of these was an Artifact which the dungeon core’s Item Allocation module had no difficulty identifying.
Rhotlisk’s Autobiography
An ancient tome that once belonged to Rhotlisk of clan Occozza, one of the founding members of the Sagescale Tribe of Velos. The memories and experiences of the Master Psionic had been imprinted onto this book’s illegible pages in ways mere ink could not convey. Just holding it grants one a deeper understanding of the mysteries of the mind and how to best harness its powers in the form of a telekinetic blast.
The grimoire does not look like much, and whatever magic is holding it together is gradually deteriorating, making it a fragile relic that must be handled with care.
Type: Grimoire
Quality: Artifact
Offensive Ability: F
Defensive Ability: F
Durability: D-
Magic Amplification: 30% Mind, 20% Force, 5% All
Enchantments: Master Intelligence, Greater Wisdom, Greater Mental Fortitude, Innate Ability
Estimated Value: 21,500 GP
Well, ‘does not look like much’ was an understatement. The book’s dull brown cover was so worn it was impossible to tell whether it was actually as valuable as the report claimed. Then again, the item clearly had historical significance on top of its high-grade enchantments, so that estimate was probably accurate. At the very least, it was far more informative than the meaningless-yet-misleading ‘Priceless’ tag that most Scribes put on these things. Still, it was rather impressive the thing survived an encounter with the griffin-harpy. That was more than could be said of its previous owner, given the relatively fresh blood stains on the book’s spine.
Regardless of its history, Boxxy happily pocketed the item and the other miscellaneous shinies and gave Jen a blush-inducing ‘Good job!’ before returning to its home continent. Though, the dungeon it was using as a relay was still charging its MP after having sent the creature across the ocean. It was a while longer before it could return to the Imperial capital’s outskirts, whereupon it called out to check on how its familiar was doing.
“Snack, you still there?”
The two had been more than a hundred kilometers apart for only half an hour, so it was a safe bet her conjured flesh hadn’t yet destabilized.
“Oh! Welcome back, Master,” the djinn replied to its telepathic message. “I trust the newest addition to your menagerie is doing okay?”
Xera believed it would be a terrible shame if that woman got herself killed after all that effort her Master put into recruiting, remaking, and reeducating her.
“Better than expected,” it ecstatically responded. “Her growth is exceptional, and she even got me a new Artifact! Well, a crappy one, but still an Artifact.”
“That is wonderful news, indeed,” she gracefully said. “Congratulations on your newest acquisition, Master.”
“Thanks!”
Boxxy now had a whopping thirty-three of these rare and powerful items in its collection, which amounted to roughly 10% of the Artifacts currently in circulation around the world. It had employed a variety of methods to achieve such a tremendous result, including dungeon diving, treasure hunting, extortion, thievery, and straight-up murder. The last three were the most effective and therefore most frequent, but also the most noticeable. The shapeshifter unintentionally spawned rumors of a ‘Relic Hunter’ roaming the continent, which only served to make future heists more difficult. That said, it wasn’t as if the shapeshifter went after every single Artifact it caught wind of. After all, while gearing up for the upcoming Dragon Festival was important, it mostly sought out these priceless items to satisfy its own greed. There was no point in chasing after everything tagged an Artifact since some of them were duds. The one it got from Jen was a prime example – an objectively powerful item, yet it wasn’t shiny at all and was practically useless to the monster. It would not have bothered with it at all if it hadn’t practically fallen into its clutches, which was far from how Artifact acquisition usually went. The other relics in its possession had required significantly more time, effort, and resources to obtain.
“I am happy to report I have more good news for you, Master. I have been able to confirm some very tasty rumors while you were away.”
“Oh?”
It would appear the demoness had not been idle while her owner was busy checking on the bird-brained brawler. She had previously picked up on a certain matter from another familiar through the Beyond’s grapevine. She didn’t mention it at first since her fellow demons were hardly the most trustworthy of sources. If this news had turned out to be an exaggerated fabrication, all she would’ve accomplished was to annoy her Master by getting its hopes up for nothing. Such an outcome was clearly not going to put it in the mood for the organ-crushing intercourse she lived for.
“There is a secret auction taking place three weeks from now, right here in the capital. They’ll be selling all kinds of unique equipment, including several Artifacts, with an emphasis on buyer anonymity.”
It was therefore rather fortunate for her that this particular Beyond-sourced information had held up to scrutiny.
“… Snack, I am going to shove my tentacles so far down your ears they will meet in the middle.”
Because, like all good bosses, Boxxy knew that exceptional results deserved special rewards.
“Looking forward to the mind-fuck, Master!”
Part Four
Rowana, Robin, and Lydia were gathered inside a well-furnished sitting room as the sun lazily set outside the tall windows. It was a cozy space decorated with colorful carpets, plush seats, flowery wallpapers, lovely paintings, and lively house plants. Each of the girls were relaxing in their own way after a long day of travel. The elf was lounging on a couch with her legs curled up, enjoying a refreshing cup of herbal tea. The youngest and most muscular of the nephilim sisters was halfway through the six hundred one-armed push-ups of her evening routine. Lydia was absorbed in a book titled ‘Elven Culture & Customs: From Dominion to Republic’ while sitting on her sister’s wide back to add some weight to her workout. Having her ‘seat’ constantly bob up and down looked to be an odd and uncomfortable way to read, but the eldest of the triplets didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.
“Excuse me, Miss Slyth?” she suddenly spoke up.
“Yes, Lydia?”
“May I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“You and Miss Morgana appear to be wearing your engagement rings in the traditional elvish manner, suggesting you intend to get married in your hometown. But it says here that same-sex marriage is not legal in the Ishigar Republic.”
Robin momentarily paused when she heard the sweet elf lady may be a criminal, then resumed her workout once she realized this was about one of those boring civil laws.
“It isn’t now, but it will be in four months,” Rowana replied calmly. “You know what our exarch is?”
“The leader elected by your people through popular vote. Yes, I am aware.”
“The current exarch is a respectable gentleman by the name of Alazar. He’s one of the many people whose lives Keira had saved, and he was so thankful he begged to repay her. She jokingly said something about wishing she could marry me, and next thing we knew Alazar passed a bill to make it so. We still have to wait until late autumn for it to come into effect, but neither of us are complaining.”
It was likely that her parents might have pulled some strings to expedite the process, but Rowana’s wife-to-be was without a doubt the one chiefly responsible.
“I see, so Miss Morgana is fulfilling her Hero duties splendidly,” the nephilim declared with a small smile.
“Huh? She is?”
“It is the calling of the Hero of Chaos to elicit change for the betterment of all.”
Judging from what Lydia had read of the Republic’s previous iteration, distancing themselves from the Dominion’s oppressive ways was undoubtedly a step in the right direction.
“Ah, I see. I suppose that’s one way to look at it, but that’s not how she sees it.”
“It isn’t?” Lydia raised an eyebrow.
“Keira is a kind girl, but she’s quite selfish as well. She pushed for that law because she wanted the two of us to be as happy as possible,” Rowana said, blushing lightly. “The fact that others benefit from her actions is nothing more than a happy accident to her.”
“So you’re saying she did everything in her power to change a centuries-old law without even considering the political, social, or religious implications?!”
The elf took a long, delightful sip of her tea then let out a pleased sigh.
“Indeed. She’s quite incredible, isn’t she?”
“That’s… one way to put it.”
It was then and there, while sitting on top of Robin’s bobbing back with beads of cold sweat forming on her forehead, that Lydia realized she was severely overestimating Keira Morgana’s foresight. Or was she underestimating the lack thereof? Either way, she had misjudged the redhead, and that realization showed her that the Gods’ chosen ones were just as flawed and willful as regular people. She was already aware of that – otherwise herself and her sisters would be carrying Sigmund’s children right now – but she was grateful for the sobering reminder.
The double doors that served as the only way in or out of the room flew open with a loud bang, startling the three women and drawing their attention to the ‘intruder.’
“I cannot believe this place!”
“Madeline!” Lydia yelled at her. “I told you not to wander off and cause trouble!”
“But this place is so freakin’ huge!”
“Yeah? Huff! So?” Robin questioned mid-push-up. “The fort was, huff, way bigger.”
“It didn’t have a gigantic library, though! Or a huge kitchen! There’s even an indoor bathhouse! With a pool! A pool!”
“What kind of, huff, pool?”
“Just a big fancy hole with water to swim in whenever you feel like it!”
“Seems like, huff, a waste of, huff, space.”
“Indeed,” Lydia nodded.
“I honestly don’t see what the big deal is,” Rowana shrugged. “There’s no flower garden, no hedge maze, not a single art gallery, and the staff is, frankly speaking, third-rate at best. It’s an alright enough place, but nothing to raise a fuss over.”
While the Inquisition’s ‘embassy’ in the imperial capital was undoubtedly a classy residence, it was no match for the opulent standards of the Slyth household.
“What is with you guys?!” Madeline protested while stomping her foot. “Get excited at least a bit, will you?!”
“I think you’re the one that needs to dial it down, you’ve been out of control since we left home,” Lydia coldly reprimanded her as she stood from Robin’s back. “First, it was the forests. Then it was the fields. Next was the city and the people and a hundred other things. For Teresa’s sake, you giggled for half an hour just because you saw, and I quote, ‘a really big-ass squirrel.’ So, I’m going to ask you again. Stop. Bothering. Our. Hosts.”
