Book 10 Chapter 8
"Joan, are you okay?" Bauteut yelled.
"I'm fine," Joan yelled before taking a step forward. The monster, however, was already charging forward as well.
Only to come to a stop when Qakog was suddenly in its way. He thrust forward with his rapier and Joan almost yelled at him, only for darkness to envelop the blade. When he hit the monster, the shadows erupted out, making the monster stumble backwards. To Joan's surprise, Qakog did the same a second, then third time, each thrust driving the monster back.
That was new.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bauteut lifting her right arm and pointing it at the monster. She then moved her left hand over it, pulling back as if she was pulling on a bowstring. A moment later she released it and something shot off of her arm, striking the monster and cutting a deep slash into its body. Then she did it again, drawing another slash.
The monster lifted an arm and, honestly, it was about this point she half expected it to roar. The fact it didn't really make any sounds other than it crashing through the trees was a little creepy in her mind, usually there was at least growling or grunts from the monsters. Instead it tried to smash Qakog, only for him to reach up and twist his cloak around himself and disappear. He appeared to the right of the monster, in its shadow, before driving it back with another erupting thrust.
Francis charged from the monster's left, his own sword raised high. Light erupted from the blade and he brought it down into the monster's arm. The blade seared through the arm, burying itself in deep and filling the air with the smell of burned, rotten flesh.
Joan was not a fan.
Unfortunately, while the attack worked well and dug in deep, the sword was now lodged inside the monster. He tried to pull it free, but once the light dissipated, the sword was trapped. Her eyes went wide when she saw the monster's head turn towards him.
"Fra—" Joan tried to call out, but it was too late. Instead, Qakog was there. Looping an arm around the other boy's waist, he yanked him back just in time for the monster's other arm to descend and miss, instead only striking the sword lodged in its arm and sending it to the ground.
Well. Half the sword. The other half was still inside its arm.
Joan glanced to Bauteut and let out a low gasp. She was holding her hand back and winds swirled around her arm, so fierce she could practically see the air currents. "Qakog, now!" Bauteut yelled.
Qakog, who had returned to driving the monster back, wrapped his cloak around himself once more before disappearing. Then Bauteut released the wind. It shot forward like an arrow, sending the monster tumbling back and driving an almost perfectly circular hole clear through its torso. It stood there, unmoving for a few moments before, finally, collapsing to the ground, its body falling off it into piles of corpses.
Joan stared, her mouth open. "That… was… that was new."
"My… my sword…" Francis said softly, holding the remnants of the blade in one hand. "It… it broke it…"
Ifrit slowly moved forward and reached out, patting him on the back. "It's okay. We'll get you a new sword, like last time. And… the time before that. And the time before that."
"Does… that happen often?" Bauteut asked.
"Probably more than it should," Ifrit said sheepishly.
Bauteut just glanced back to Joan, who's cheeks quickly went red. "I-I've gotten better about that. Technically I haven't broken any sword since… in ages. The last time it was broken was because of Korgron."
"Wait, what?" Bauteut asked.
"When she cut it in half during her little test," Joan said.
Penthe just sighed and shook her head. "We should move on. There's no telling what else might be attracted by those… things. What ARE they?"
"I'm… not quite sure," Joan said, her attention focused on the three sets of weapons that were floating in front of her. They seemed to be waiting for something, but she couldn't guess what. "Chase had frozen them in blocks of ice under the ocean. Did… they come all the way here just to find me?"
"Seems like it," Penthe said. "Or to stab you the moment your back is turned. When did you get a bunch of haunted weapons?"
"I didn't," Joan said. "I just fought them and beat them and they yelled something at me that I couldn't understand. Oh, maybe I can get them to say it again! Penthe, you know all kinds of languages, right? Hey, hammer… thing. Say something!"
"Joan…" Penthe said softly.
"Well? Come on, say it!" Joan said, waving a hand at the hammer. It didn't move, just standing there in front of her.
"Joan," Penthe said.
"Come ON!" Joan yelled before reaching out and grabbing the hammer by the handle. It jerked back, yanking the hammer away from her and yelling… something. "See, that, there, what does that mean?" she asked, looking to Penthe.
"Joan," Penthe asked. "What makes you think I can speak whatever… that is?"
"You know a lot of languages, don't you?" Joan asked.
"No," Penthe said. "Even if I did know it at one time, I'd have likely forgotten lifetimes ago. Literally. What part of anything we've done together makes you think I'd know whatever… that was?"
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"Oh," Joan said before sighing. "They don't seem… hostile. Or very useful. They didn't do… anything."
"Joan?" Bauteut asked.
"What?" Joan asked.
"Doesn't your spider bracer translate languages for you? Wasn't that what allowed you to read all those things you mentioned in the Realm of the Gods?" Bauteut asked.
"… Oh yeah," Joan said softly. "I keep forgetting I have that…" However, she then glanced down at herself. Slowly, she sheathed her sword before focusing. It took a few tries, but her armor then disappeared from her body, appearing near her bedroll.
Still standing. That was creepy. She did not like that it was still doing that. How was it doing that on its--
"Wait," Joan said before moving a bit closer to it. "It brought the… it brought the armor stand with it. How did it…?" She glanced to Penthe. Who just shrugged. "This armor is weird…" She glanced to the others. Ifrit was still comforting Francis, while Bauteut and Qakog were watching her and the hovering weapons. Likely unsure if they were supposed to attack or not. She quickly walked to her bag and started rifling through it. "So, ummm. I see you two have some new… things. When'd that happen?"
"Courtesy of the Chosen," Qakog said proudly. "My sword has been enhanced by the magic of Lady Korgron and Lord Andreas themselves, filled with the might of the dark moon it pierces my--"
"It has shadow magic woven through it, as well as his cloak," Bauteut said, rolling her eyes. "Myrin enchanted my bracer and boots. Since I generally… don't… want to get into an up close fight with things. It took a while to get used to, but I can use my shielding bracer to launch arrows of wind and light, as powerful as the shield it can make. My boots are enchanted the same way yours are. Qakog's boots are enchanted as well, but he refuses to tell me with what."
"It's not dramatic if I just tell you what they do," Qakog said, clenching his fists. "They were enchanted by the magic of Lady Korgron, Lord Andreas and my rival for Lady Joan's affections, Lord Searle! They must have an introduction as legendary as their origins!"
"You almost DIED!" Bauteut snapped.
"It still wasn't worthy!" Qakog said.
Joan couldn't help but grin, though she was grateful Bauteut couldn't see. She suspected she'd just find it annoying. "Found it!" she said before pulling out the small spider bracer. She slid it onto her wrist and cringed when it bit down on her hand. "I hate this thing."
"If you don't want to wear it, I could!" Qakog offered.
"No, it's fine," Joan said quickly. While she did appreciate him being willing to make that sacrifice for her, she wasn't sure she trusted him to be her translator in the end. She wasn't even entirely sure the bracer WOULD translate things for her. It might only work for spiders and the elven language of that time. Still, she gulped and walked towards the hammer. She reached out to grab it.
It yanked back. "My hammer is mine to wield!" the voice yelled.
Joan blinked a few times before glancing to the others. "It… worked? I guess? It's saying the hammer belongs to it."
"See if you can get it to say anything else? Any of them?" Penthe suggested.
Unfortunately for Joan, she soon learned that while the gauntlet could translate what the weapons were saying, they had very little to say. They apparently objected to her touching them, but wouldn't answer her questions. They'd give her a little bit of space, but kept hovering a bit away from her.
They'd finally decided to move their camp in case anything else was attracted by the smell of the big monster, as well as the smell itself being a great motivating factor to get them to leave.
But she was no closer to knowing what those weapons WANTED. Or why they wanted to follow her.
"A shame they won't let anyone else wield them," Joan said in a playful tone once they'd found a decent enough camping spot away from the smell and began to setup. "How good are you with a hammer?" she asked Francis.
He sighed and shook his head. "It's fine. It's not the first sword I've lost."
Joan felt a small bit of guilt, watching him in the moonlight. She'd been there herself. He was a warrior, or at least he saw himself that way. Losing your weapon never felt nice. She could still remember when she lost her sword and how helpless she had felt for the longest time. Even now her sword was always close at hand.
Then her eyes went wide. She had the solution. It might be a little short for him, but it WOULD be a weapon. He could replace it later. But the chances of him breaking it were almost impossible. It wasn't like it had ever done her any good. Every time she tried to draw it it never seemed to want to be drawn.
She suspected Guardian Nova was responsible for that, but she wasn't sure HOW. Still…
Joan grabbed at her swords and lifted one up, trying to make sure it wasn't Guardian Nova. It was. She blinked and put it down, grabbing the other one and--
Wait, it was Guardian Nova again. She frowned, putting it down and--
Okay, HOW? That didn't even make SENSE! Was it because it was dark? Was she just that bad in the dark? She grumbled a few times before holding out her hand and making a small flame before, once again, grabbing her sword. This time she managed to not grab Guardian Nova. She let the flame die out before turning to Francis. "Hey, Francis?" she asked.
"What?" he asked, his voice just a tad melancholy.
"So, I know it's not probably the right size for you, but it is better than nothing," Joan said before holding it out to him.
"What?" Francis asked. "It's dark, I can't really see what you're doing."
"Please don't light another fire," Bauteut said. "I don't want to draw another monster to us."
"It's my sword," Joan said. "My other sword. It was made for me by…" She trailed off when she realized it was made for her by people who tried to assassinate the queen. She'd just leave that part out. "Here. It was made for fighting demons."
"It better be a hell of a sword, then," Qakog said suddenly.
"I wouldn't know," Joan said, rolling her eyes. "I've never been able to draw it. Francis, here, just take it. You'll be useless to us if you have to just stand there and cheer us on. No offense."
"Some… taken," Francis said and she felt the blade pulled from her hand a moment later. She heard it being drawn from its scabbard a moment later. "H-holy… is this…"
"Yup," Joan said. "Every time I try to draw it, it doesn't seem to work. Here's hoping you have a better time of it."
"Really?" Francis asked. "Is there something on the scabbard?"
"Not that I could find," Joan said. "But--"
"Will you all shut up?" Penthe's voice suddenly pierced the night. "Go to sleep. There's still plenty of ground to cover in the morning."
Joan gave a light chuckle before laying back down on her bedroll. Well, if nothing else, she felt pretty happy about this. She'd never used the sword before, hopefully he'd put it to better use than she did.
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