CHAPTER 37: QUESTING II

DAY FOUR

"Listen, I’ve spent the night reading books on war strategems that’ve been passed down in my family since the earliest days of the House. I can assure you that I will not mess things up. I cannot mess things up. It is simple Game Theory. There are only a few paths these goblins can take, given the circumstances!"

Lyra, who’d taken the position of Isobel’s "proctor" in these Quests, was uncomfortably silent, leaving me to be the one to fill that gap.

"Isobel, goblins are unpredictable. They’re notoriously unpredictable. Our literal first Quest to fight them together happened because they thought it’d be a smart idea to raid a family of Bulettes! It can’t be overstated how stupid that is. If it seems dumb, the goblins will do it–after finding a way to make it ten times stupider and twenty times more dangerous!"

"It sounds as though you have little confidence in me or my family’s ability to plan war. Might I remind you that we won every single skirmish we were a part of?"

"Your enemies were humans, Isobel. Predictable, pattern-recognizing humans. Things aren’t the same here!"

Isobel rolled her eyes. "You said yourself that loss is the greatest teacher in the world, no? Well, either I’m correct–which I am–, and I’ll lead these goblins to a trap–which I already have done one, might I remind you–, or I’m wrong–which I’m not–, and I’ll learn something today."

I buried my head in my hands, only to find Lyra looking at me with a similarly hopeless expression. I’ve known Lyra a long time. It took a lot to take her this far beyond the limits of her patience. That made me pause to consider how we’d gotten here.

We were on yet another Quest to prove ourselves to Isobel. This time, it was to kill 100 goblins by a bridge over a canyon that split Ublar from Podros. The goblins here had been killing and robbing civilians who crossed this commonly used bridge, hence the need for a Quest like this. The only issue was that, similar to the other Goblin Quest, when you fought too hard, you’d attract attention from the boss. The issue this time was that the boss of this band was a powerful Goblin Dark Mage. That wasn’t an issue for Lyra and me, but neither

of us would be able to defend Isobel if it were summoned, meaning that we’d have to kill the regular goblins as quickly as possible, then get out.

The plan was to gather them all to one spot with Isobel’s illusion, then Lyra and I would use magic to blow all of them up at once, leaving before the Goblin Dark Mage could show up. Isobel, however, wanted to use her powers to lead the goblins into the canyon, where they’d die in the ripping currents below. Admittedly, that plan was quite sound. In practice, though, it was far too unpredictable to work. Goblins had short attention spans, meaning that while the plan to distract-then-kill them was fast enough to work, this plan to lure them to their deaths was predicated on the idea that one hundred goblins would be so focused on whatever Isobel could muster that they wouldn’t just lose interest or see through it after a few of their comrades died.

Unfortunately for Lyra and me, Isobel wasn’t interested in hearing that argument. Not when her mind was already made up.

And so, Isobel summoned the illusion of a floating sorceress over the water. The large-chested woman wore a tight silken robe that exposed most of her cleavage. Her nipples were visible from the outside, indicating that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The goblins indeed turned to face the illusion, though that wasn’t what they were transfixed on.

They’d been transfixed on the mage floating above it, a goblin man wearing a black, cloaked robe with a wooden staff in his hand, aura gathered at the tip. With a wave of his staff, the illusion summoned by Isobel was undone. The goblins cheered, and Isobel deflated.

"A-ah, I... d-didn’t think they were smart enough to plan for something like that..."

***

DAY FIVE

I leaned on the center island in the kitchen of the House as Lyra paced in front of me, half-eaten bread roll in one hand and half-finished wine bottle in the other.

"We can’t keep fucking doing this, Lloyd. I’m losing my goddamn mind. I’m the Time Mage here, remember. I can’t be the one who loses her mind!" Lyra ranted. She took a swig from the bottle. "I told you this would happen! I told you!"

"Lyra, you’re acting like you’re getting tortured. It’s been like, five days. We’re going to be–"

"Fuck you, Lloyd! We are not going to be fine! Can’t you see that she’s just using us?! She’s using us! That’s all this whole trial period is: a way for her to squeeze us of everything we have! The two of us for combat training, and you for sexual relief! Isn’t it obvious?!"

"H-hey! That’s..." I paused. As awkward as it still was to talk to Lyra about sex, she wasn’t wrong. Every time we came back from a Quest–that Isobel messed up in some way–, she’d take me to her bedroom and "vent her frustrations". Or, if she fucked up really badly, allow me to take the reins as a means of venting my frustration. If I looked at it like that, it made sense that Lyra was as angry as she was. She had no outlet to vent her–

"You’re getting the wrong message out of what I said!" Lyra snapped, interrupting my thoughts.

"I haven’t even said anything!"

"I can see it in your face!" Her voice took on a mocking tone. "’Oh, maybe if Lyra got some dick she wouldn’t be so agitated right now’. Am I wrong?!"

"...I wouldn’t say that to you."

"But that’s what you were thinking!"

I didn’t answer. Lyra fumed.

"You know what?! Fine! I wasn’t gonna show you this because I thought you’d open your fucking eyes enough by now to see it, but since you’re still blinded by your cock to think rationally, it seems I need to show you myself! Come, let me show you something."

Before I could even understand why, Lyra was leading me through House Greaves up to Isobel’s room. The noblewoman was still out on her morning job, meaning she wasn’t around to stop Lyra from going under her bed and rummaging through her things. Eventually, she found what she was looking for: an annotated calendar. Lyra opened it wide to the current month, pressing the calendar into my face with an indignant look. She didn’t say a word. Didn’t point at anything. That... wasn’t necessary.

Day One: Accept easy Quest

Day Two: Accept another easy Quest

Day Three: Accept slightly more difficult Quest

Day Four: Allocate funds, reassess plans, and take well-paying Quest

Day Five: Move pieces. No Questing.

Day Six: Accept the highest-paying Quest I can get away with

Day Seven: Reject Lloyd and Lyra’s Contract, advance with current plans.

Note to Self: Plan only works if Lloyd and Lyra are unaware of my true strength. Do not let yourself be swayed by emotion. I believe in you. Remember your goals. Love, Isobel.

I didn’t say anything for a long while. Lyra put the calendar back, where it was, then wordlessly dragged me back downstairs to the dining room, where the two of us sat in silence for a long moment.

"Lyra," I started, eyes glued to the table. "How fucked are we?"

"We spent all of our money on this. The Paladin Trials start soon, so the other 5-Star Quests are about to be taken. Mr. Shaw is about to get recruited to rejoin the Order of Paladins, so it’s too late to take him as a teacher. The Aspian Quartet is still split up, so we can’t recruit them again. We aren’t strong enough yet to survive in Eshil or Rushela, so that’s off the table..." Lyra sighed. "We’re pretty fucked, Lloyd. This timeline might be a wash, and I don’t have enough aura to take us back to the start yet."

"And how long did you know that?"

"The day she got knocked out by that Barbarian. I could tell she was strong. She could’ve killed him easily. I felt it. You felt it. That was the Demon Queen. Not in her totality, but that was her. Then she pulled her punch and lost. That was when I smelled something off. I looked for a journal but only found that calendar."

"And why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

"I knew that you were too in love with her to care. You’d make an excuse and move forward."

I sighed. "So... now what? What should we do?"

"Honestly? I think our best bet is to chalk the run up as a loss. Try to join House Hilington or something and see if we can make enough friends to challenge the Demon Lord." She paused. "But you know they’re gonna try to kill us he moment they realize we’re stronger than their Lord and Lady..."

"What about Isobel?"

"You know what, Lloyd. She’s gonna join up with the Demon Lord again, and we’re gonna have to... y’know."

"I’m not killing Isobel, Lyra."

"You don’t have to. It’s always me who does it anyway. Only difference this time is that we know the Isobel that I’m gonna have to kill. No telling whether she searches for you, though." Lyra snorted. "Be ready."

"Be ready to kill me?" A voice called from behind us, drawing both of our attention.

Isobel Greaves stood in the archway of the dining room, dressed in her black athletic gear. Despite the gravity of the subject matter, her face was calm. Despite the rapid rise and fall of her chest, her tone was even.

"I-Isobel!" I started. "Listen, it’s not what you think. It’s–"

"It’s not what I think? I hear you talk of time travel, working alongside the Aspian Quartet, joining up with House Hilington, and killing me–the ’Demon Queen’. Tell me, Lloyd May? What should I be thinking? That those are normal things for a well-adjusted person to say?"

"No!" I shouted, standing to my feet. I tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she swatted it away. "Isobel, please listen. We have a lot to explain. It’s–"

"Leave this House. You are no longer welcome."

Lyra rose behind me. "Isobel–"

"Leave!" Isobel roared, blasting an uncoordinated burst of aura at us that sent everything flying. She gathered an impossible amount of aura, enough to be concerning. So it was true. She really was stronger than she’d been letting on. "I will not repeat myself! Leave this House now!"

Lyra and I shared a tense look before finally agreeing, exiting House Greaves as Isobel watched us go. The door slammed behind us, and through the steel doors of the manor, I somehow managed to hear the cries of Isobel from within. Unable to comfort her, I was left with no choice but to leave her to her tears.