Zeroth Moment: My Cheat Skill Is Stupid, So I'll Just Ignore It

Chapter Eighty-Two: Reluctantly Crouched At The Starting Line



Topher's pulse immediately started to pound; he began to sweat almost instantly as he reflexively looked around for an escape. "Jesus Christ. They're coming here? How much time have we got?"

Salherra Siukh chuckled, banishing the projection and seating herself with slow grandeur on a hard-backed pine chair. "A few hours. Not enough time to run away, naturally." She crossed her legs above the knee, showing a heart-stopping expanse of thigh, and ran her hands down it invitingly as she smiled up at Topher. "But enough time to do something else, if you've changed your mind."

Topher crossed his arms, frowning. "No means no, lady. Let's stick to business." He summoned his Stylus and began spinning it, trying hard to think. "You've probably got a plan, or you wouldn't be this smug. But the troops outside are just regular people; the only person I've seen in this camp who might survive for two seconds is Takano, and he can't do anything by himself. What's your play?"

The Archmage chuckled, low and deep in her throat. "You're correct and wrong at the same time; Shuji might not be that impressive by himself, but his Class Skills allow him to do a number of surprising things given the right tools. Particularly with a little misdirection." She crooked her finger at Topher, and Topher abruptly found himself sliding across the floor towards her without moving; looking down, he saw that a myriad of tiny shadows were boiling beneath his feet, carrying him smoothly across the wooden planks almost as though he were floating. "You'll forgive me if I don't discuss them; the walls have ears, after all." She lifted herself into the air on another tide of darkness, coming smoothly up to meet him as he stopped two inches away from her body. "And eyes, too. Shall we give them a show?"

Angrily, Topher focused on Sahlerra and pulled through her to the chair behind her; her full-lipped mouth opened in a gasp of surprise as she found herself slammed back into her seat. "Don't fucking touch me," he growled, striding forward to loom over her. "I've said no twice; I'm not going to say it a third time. You think you're prepared; so did Quint when they blew up the castle. These are people's lives you're toying with."

"I know that," the Archmage replied savagely; she crossed her arms under her ample breasts, staring back up at him with no trace of fear. "I've done more than you can imagine trying to keep people alive, F-Ranker. The Demons have Diviners too, and some of them don't have the same handicaps I do -- and they definitely don't care about saving the lives of their foot soldiers, let alone ours." She raised her chin defiantly. "Maybe you don't want to make love to me, but you will help me. Or everyone here will die."

"So fucking what?" Topher shouted, throwing up his hands. "I'm not in charge! I don't even know these people! I didn't sign up to fight for justice or any shit like that!"

"You will, though," Sahlerra purred, folding her hands on her lap. "I've seen what you do when you have to choose between letting other people get hurt and running away." Shadows flowed around her, and suddenly she was behind Topher again, circling around him like a cat lashing its tail. "I know what you're thinking, remember? Right now, you're thinking how you can get away from me, but the second you do, you'll be worrying at the problem like a squirrel trying to crack a nut. You didn't fight through a high-Level dungeon and kill one of the Five Immortal Beasts on a whim; you thought it was the only course of action you had, so you took it." Insouciantly, she tapped him on the tip of his nose with a long-nailed finger. "Nothing's changed. You run away now, you'll find yourself walking up to the Demon Lord's castle soon enough either way -- the only difference will be that thousands of innocent people will have died for nothing while you made up your mind. What will you do if one of them is the woman you love?"

Topher gnashed his teeth; he wanted to spit blood. Fuck you, he hissed inside his mind, but he forced himself to calm down, at least outwardly. "Fine." He shoved his hands in his pockets, fighting the temptation to summon a dagger with his Trajectile Bracelet and stab the Archmage, if only a little. "Then stop playing games and tell me what you want me to do, already."

Sahlerra smirked again. "I want you, and your friends, to accompany me into the battle. Nothing more or less. And yes," she interrupted as he opened his mouth, "I'll protect all of you. I might not be Quint, but I have my own methods of defense. But I need you -- all four of you -- or our plan's chances of success go down precipitously."

Topher sighed. "Well, I know when I'm beaten. But I can't speak for them -- you'll have to ask them yourself."

The Archmage cocked her head to one side curiously. "What makes you think I haven't already?"

The sun was well and truly up when Topher stormed out of the command post, feeling like he wanted to scrub his skin with steel wool. "Fucking gross," he muttered to himself as he stalked back towards his tent, then changed his mind and veered off towards what looked like the mess hall.

When he arrived, he found Zanasha and Hana already eating, while Rudo was distantly visible in the kitchens. Of course, he realized belatedly, his cooking Skills will let him give huge bonuses to the whole army. And the Arch-harlot probably already thought of that, too. Grimly, he drifted over to the table where the others were seated and plunked himself down across from them. "Morning," he grunted sourly. "I hear you've already had an audience with the Blonde Bimbo?"

Hana blinked, looking vaguely scandalized, but Zanasha only chuckled. "We have had that dubious pleasure," she agreed, raising a spoonful of porridge to her lips. "She was not forthcoming as to the specifics, but I gather she was able to convince you as well."

Topher rolled his eyes. "Let's not pretend I had any real choice." He looked around the room; all the other inhabitants were slovenly-looking soldiers, most of them with visible hangovers. "How the hell is this supposed to work, anyway? Even if these guys are all secretly Level 90 with the Ultimate Badass Class, we're still all going to get obliterated in the first ten seconds. This isn't some random Capras -- it's an army of high-ranking demons, including somebody with a scary-sounding name who's supposed to be their toughest face-smasher."

"Tyal Ex Zedeus, Unforgiving Queen of Swords," Zanasha confirmed. "She is a veteran of the original Demon War, undefeated in battle." She winced slightly. "I know not what plan the Archmage has to protect us, but she seems confident; I, myself, remain trepidatious." Her hand caressed the hilt of the Kiku-no-Tsurugi as if for reassurance.

"Can they really be more dangerous than Vashyarl, though?" wondered Hana, munching daintily on a strawberry. Where the fuck did they get fresh strawberries? Topher thought in confusion. "We don't have any idea what Level he was, only guesses."

"Ninety-seven," replied Topher automatically, then frowned. How do I know that?

Hana shrugged. "Even so, perhaps the Demons are only of a similar Level. With the power of the Archmage and Takano-san, perhaps we may be a match for them?"

Topher remembered the devastation at Orvale and shuddered. "Not likely. But she does seem to know what she's doing; and anyway, even if she's wrong, it's too late for us to run away now." He sighed, wishing he could stress-eat; stupid Stone of Sustenance.

He sat there, thinking dark thoughts, while the others finished their breakfast; eventually, Rudo emerged to greet them as well. "I had hoped to see you before the battle," he commented, bowing to Topher. "There is something we must discuss."

Topher sighed and nodded. "Sure. Might as well get it over with now, since we're probably all gonna be paste by this afternoon."

The Innkeeper chuckled. "I have no such intention; but, if it happens, I have led a good life." He beckoned to Topher, who dutifully followed him outside; when the two of them were alone, he leaned close to Topher conspiratorially. "So, what did you think of the Archmage?"

"I'd vomit if I'd eaten anything other than a Summoned bagel," Topher responded wearily. "Did she try to get into your pants too?"

The older man chuckled again. "She did not; I suspect she knew such a thing would prove fruitless, but that is not what we must discuss." Topher's face twisted in confusion, but Rudo continued on. "Miss Siukh's war plans are not as robust as she suspects. Her strategies are brilliant, but flawed; I suspect her Intelligence exceeds her Wisdom, as is often the case with the truly intelligent. For this battle, we have no options; we must fight, or die. But I caution you; we should not throw our lot in with her overlong."

"Sounds good to me," Topher agreed. "I think about a day of her bullshit is about all I can take, too. But what do we do after that?"

The Innkeeper shrugged. "Let us not make plans prematurely. Perhaps something will occur which will alter our situation; alternatively, it is possible the Archmage has a method to contact Mister Leafwind. I believe a solution will present itself."

Topher sighed. "Wish I had your optimism, pal." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "But I can't fault your thinking. We'll either die, or figure it out, I guess." Nodding to Rudo, he started away.

"Mister Bailey? Where are you going?" Rudo called after him.

"One more promise to keep," lamented Topher.

He found Shuji Takano standing on a hill, looking northward towards the great forest; they stood in silence together for a while. Eventually, Topher couldn't resist voicing his thoughts. "It's going to be gone tomorrow, isn't it. The whole forest."

Takano nodded. "It has happened before, or so I am told. The trees are hardy; like many forests in our world, flame helps the seeds to sprout. It will grow again; perhaps in time for the next war." Some emotion Topher couldn't read flickered across the young man's face, replaced by calm watchfulness. He turned to face him. "How can I assist you, Uncle America?"

"Actually," Topher admitted, "I'm here for you." He sat down, doing his best to maintain as much gravitas as possible, and gestured for Takano to do the same. "I'm afraid I have some... bad news."

Takano folded himself oddly, dropping to both knees in a fluid motion and sitting back on his haunches as though it were the most natural position imaginable; despite being in full armor, he made no noise, and managed to bow deeply to Topher even from a seated position. "I am ready."

Topher found he couldn't meet the boy's gaze; he looked down at his hands. "Haruko... died. In Strathmore, about three months ago." He heard a sharp intake of breath from Takano, but hurried on, feeling like he was vomiting up black bile with every word. "One of the Demon Lord's people... got to Noboru. He killed her, and the others too. I stopped him, but I was too late." With difficulty, he raised his head to look Takano in the eyes. "I'm sorry."

He didn't know what he expected -- grief, blame, indifference -- but he was unprepared for the deep, profound sadness he saw in the eyes before him. Takano gazed at him, his face held stoically in placidity by sheer force of will, for several seconds before letting out a long, slow breath. "I see. Thank you for telling me, Bailey-san." He bowed again, then climbed slowly to his feet and turned northward again. "You will forgive me if I do not grieve. I expect to join her shortly."

"Wait, what?" Topher stumbled as he got to his own feet; his jaw fell open. "You can't be serious! I thought the Archmage had a plan!"

"She does," Takano confirmed. "A plan which I helped form. But the Demons are capable of great strategic and tactical insight; sooner or later, they will discover that my Zealous Unity Skill -- the highest-Level version of my Battle Inspiration Skill Tree -- is the source of our ability to resist them. The Archmage is capable of great cleverness, but even her spells cannot protect me from a determined attack."

"Seriously?" Topher spluttered. "So you're just gonna walk into the meat grinder?"

The boy shrugged. "I survived the attack which killed Arima-sama by sheer luck; it will not happen a second time. We all must die; I am merely trying to do it properly." A cold wind gusted, tousling Takano's hair and making Topher's coat flap loudly.

"You're sixteen," Topher whispered, anguished. "You're just a kid. Your life hasn't even started yet."

The boy did not look back at him. "I might be sixteen, Bailey-san, but I've killed a lot of people. Some of them, most assuredly, did not deserve it. I cannot bring them back, any more than I can bring back Ikehara-chan." He sighed, very deeply, and then spoke again -- but this time, his voice was filled with a rage that Topher knew all too well. "But what I can do is spend my life to strike at the Demon Lord. He and his must be made to pay for her death, if no others."

Topher lapsed into silence; the wind continued to gust around them, and Topher could see the trees beginning to shake. Probably the army coming, he thought to himself resignedly. Then, unexpectedly, something strange popped into his head. "Hotaka said you were the captain of the baseball team. Is that how you knew Okano?"

Takano nodded. "He was our second baseman. He was very good." He turned back to Topher, who was shocked to see a smile on the young man's face and unshed tears sparkling in his eyes. "In our playoffs, he caught a line drive that nearly took the pitcher's head off. The championship game was next week..." he trailed off.

Then, as Topher watched, something curled up and died within the other boy; his tears dried, and his smile faded. "Haruko was his cousin," he said, very simply, then turned back to the north again. He drew his sword, and began to walk, slowly and with great purpose, to the north, and Topher knew he was going to his death. He raised his hand, wanting to call out -- to say something, anything, to call Takano back -- but his cries died in his throat. He let his hand drop, helplessly.

We all must die.

Topher stood, feeling weak and useless, for several minutes before he could make himself move. When his feet finally came unstuck from the mire of his melancholy, he began to walk, then run, towards the Archmage's command post.

Not enough time to run away, naturally. But enough time to do something else, if you've changed your mind.


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