Chapter 223

◈ Chapter 223:

Vash paused. "That's, ah, quite the conclusion..."

"It's the obvious answer when the facts are known," Myra frowned in thought. "And even better, maybe I only need to end your life for Rain to drop dead once again."

She suddenly lunged, her hand unfurling into a set of violet-flamed claws.

Vash made a grunt of surprise before folding his legs, ducking down below the sweeping mass of physical flame as it flung over his wolf helm, the steel glittering.

He flung himself to the side as a wing came sweeping in to bisect him, the feathers like blades as they sliced through the air.

Lyra was forced to back up as Vash clanked through the hole in the wall, in full retreat from the furious elf.

"I hope you don't expect me to do anything!" she yelped as she ran to keep up.

"Hardly," cried Vash as he staggered past, catching his balance.

They rushed out into the corridor as Myra blew part of the wall away with a flaming fist, masonry scattering across the floor.

Ahead, Lyra slowed and stared as a line of rats came careening around the corner at the end of the hallway, a longsword held between them as they sprinted towards the necromancer. He held his hand out, and in one smooth motion, the rats jabbed the point into the carpet and thrust the handle up, tipping it up as the handle slammed into Vash's gauntleted palm.

He viciously whipped the blade around as Myra came screaming through what remained of the doorway, the blade tip flicking across her throat.

For a moment, it seemed the elf was done. But the blade came away from her neck in a spray of flame, not blood, and her flesh reformed a moment later.

Not even pausing, Vash brought the blade back around to continue the attack, but was forced into a parry as Myra let out a howl of outrage, whips of violet flame lashing from her body and striking Vash's armour in an ear shattering steel screech, the immutable flame knocking Vash off balance, causing him to stumble.

He cried out in pain.

It took a moment for Lyra to realise that he was faking it. Really, he had no business clutching at his side like that. It seemed like an absurd thing to do to her, but then the elf had no idea that inside the armour was just a puppeted corpse. Necromancers were typically just flesh and blood levelers and not the fleshless skull that was Vash.

He raised his blade in a feint and then, using the distraction, moved the hand that had been clutching at his side underneath the distracting blow. The skeletal rat that had been held out of view there was catapulted from Vash's hand.

The rat skeleton hurtled through the air with its limbs and tail outstretched and hit squarely in the middle of Myra's face with a gleeful squeak.

The elf panicked and her head became flame, the rat charring as it entered her flaming form.

Vash took the opportunity and thrust out the tip of his blade, not aiming to skewer her through the chest or stomach, but at the rat.

The blade pierced through it and into the flaming sculpt of Myra's head and… stayed there, both blade and rat skeleton held within Myra's skull.

The confused elf flung her hands out, trying to drive Vash away, but she struggled to hit the thin knight as he dodged around each clumsy strike, holding the tip of his blade within the flames of her head as she struggled to see what was happening with a rat literally in her face.

For a moment, it seemed like it might work. A bewildered Myra started to reform her head with the blade and rat still partially inside. But then she stilled, realising what was about to happen, and jerked back as her wings folded around her, thrusting Vash back and knocking Lyra to the ground with a blast of hot air.

The wings curled tight and then parted, and she was whole again, absolutely furious, but whole.

The tendrils of violet flame lashed out as Vash tried to parry and backstep, steel clashing against the physical flame until it looped around, gripping the blade and then Vash as it curled around his limbs, lifting him into the air in front of the furious elf.

She looked up at the helm with narrowed eyes as the tendrils formed a loop around his neck. "That was cunning of you," she said, "I suppose that you would be the mind that is guiding Rain, I doubt he would have lasted this long otherwise. A monster like that appears as a feast to any leveller worth their salt, it just seems so unlikely someone wouldn't have taken the chance to end his life when he was smaller. Doesn't matter anymore though."

With a vicious jerk, the tendril around his neck pulled out to either side, narrowing the loop.

"S-Stop!" choked out Vash with a strangled cry.

In a spray of sparks the metal crumpled inward like tin foil under pressure, and then split apart until, with a screech of steel, the helmet popped from the gorget and toppled over back. The helmet bounced once, twice, then landed in Lyra's lap. She looked down at the silent, battered wolf helm, then up at Myra. Then she scrambled to her hooves and ran for it.

The roar of rising flame rose behind her, incredible heat at her back, but she flung herself forward, darting around a corner and flickering into invisibility before slowing her pace so as not to break the invisibility.

She glanced behind to see Myra turning the corner, her eyes burning embers, her breath coming in clouds of steam as she gripped the wall to steady herself. Whatever the strange ability that transmuted her body to flame was, it clearly did not come cost-free.

That wasn't about to slow the elf however, and she squeezed her wings past the door frame before striding down the corridor. Lyra darted out of her path into a side room, across another corridor into another bedroom, through that, then another, until finally she opened what she thought was the next door out and found herself facing a bathroom, a bathroom with a small goblin girl inside.

Lyra swiftly slammed the door behind and dropped the invisibility. "I thought you were going to attack her!" she hissed at the puzzled-looking Opal.

"Oh, I was, but then I realised that wasn't going to work. She's so covered in bright fire that there are no shadows I can catch her from. So I went looking for a bucket of water or something to put some of the fire out… or…uh… something…"

"What are you looking at?" said Lyra, her brow furrowing.

Opal hadn't looked in Lyra's direction even once since she entered. Curiosity got the better of her, and she peered into the bathtub to see what had the goblin girl's attention.

A pile of skinless human corpses were lying in the wooden bathtub, piled on top of each other like discarded refuse.

Lyra physically recoiled at the sudden bloody sight and her back slammed against the door. She slowly slid down to the bottom. "Wha-Wha— What the hell! D-Did you—"

"This has nothing to do with me sheepy. It was like this when I got here. Maybe they died when we were last here…"

"Why don't they have any skin?!"

Opal shrugged.

"Maybe it's a Leveller thing?"

"It's definitely not a Leveller thing!"

"Hmm. Either way, I figured that Bone—that Vash could make use of them," she nodded her head at the wolf helm held in Lyra's hands.

The green light that had flickered and died dramatically when the helm was decapitated slowly returned to life.

"Interesting," mused the necromancer, and then, to Lyra's rising horror, the skinless bodies began to rise from the bathtub.

"H-Hey, hey, hang on! Just hold on a moment! Please don't do this while I'm trapped in here!"

The green light from the helm held in Lyra's hands seemed to dim for a moment.

"Then what would you suggest? As it is, I fear that there is little to be done about this Leveller, and it won't be long until she discovers us."

"And throwing a few people's dead bodies at her isn't going to make a difference!"

Lyra drew in a breath, steadying herself.

"I want you to use… that."

There was a pause.

"Are you sure?"

"...Y-Yes… At least it's not real people."

"Very well."

The skinless bodies promptly collapsed back into the bathtub like puppets that had their strings cut, piled on top of each other hap-hazard once more.

Lyra shuddered as the sight of them dropped out of view.

"Let me in."

Lyra drew in a few calming breaths to settle her racing pulse, then pressed the wolf helm through the now black wool of her forearm until it slipped through to the other side.

She then raised her forearm and pressed it against her face.

Inside, she was given a view of her woolspace, her Fleece Harbour, the place as chaotic as she had last seen it. The totally amazing awesome statue of herself was still sadly felled like a tree and was lying amongst piles of gold, and their belongings were scattered here and there.

Red was also there, the kobold frowning down at the helm that had tumbled onto the gold below face first. It had been difficult for the kobold to make up his mind about coming with them, and he had agonised over the problem non-stop. On the one claw there was an enormous amount of gold stored in the monster town's vault, but on the other there was still a very great amount of gold stored in Lyra's woolspace. Clearly he could not be with both collections of treasure at the same time, thus he had to make a choice. In the end he had chosen to seal the vault in the monster town and come with them, his logic being that one hoard was in a more dangerous position than the other and needed his personal protection as the treasurer.

"I appear to be without a rat servant." mumbled Vash into the gold. "Kobold. Pick me up."

Red hesitated.

"Control yourself and pick me up. Don't think I haven't forgotten what you were attempting to do when rebuilding the fragments of my skull. Do try to stay in my good books if you don't want to end up significantly less alive."

Red hurried over and awkwardly lifted the helm in his claws.

After a bit of direction where Red climbed atop the felled statue giving Vash an overview of the chamber, the necromancer was ready.

Green flame roared to life within the helm, the light illuminating the chambers walls with emerald.

Nothing seemed to happen at first, but then a coin clinked and rolled down a mound, and then another, and another, until the piles of gold were shifting in a roar of clanking metal and something was rising from beneath.

There had never been a convenient moment to get rid of it, was the thing, and it had languished in Lyra's woolspace buried beneath coins and treasure ever since she had to fight for her life in the Abattoir's arena.

The enormous undead body of the Chimera rose from the gold, treasure spilling from its back and mangled wings as it clawed its way free.

There were no heads left of course, only the three necks remained of it, but a head wasn't necessary for Vash to make use of it, and so it rose, a terrifying creature in life, and now even more so in undeath.

The undead thing made a snuffling sound, air being expelled and inhaled from its three neck holes as it seemed to look around, although with what eyes Lyra didn't know.

Yep. She was immediately regretting this. Maybe the skinless bodies hadn't been so bad after all.

"Hmm. A curious specimen. It's rare that a monster's faculties are so perfectly preserved in undeath, and the nature of it, highly unusual. But I suppose that is what this 'Abattoir' sought after; evolved 'special' monsters as it were."

"That's, uh, great, I'm sure, but can we get it out of me already… I can only handle the thought of this horrible thing moving around in me for so long, urgh."

"Why? There's nothing wrong with it. Death is a perfectly natural consequence of life. Making use of it is no different than making use of the living. You don't complain about this grubby little living kobold despite it being 'inside of you'."

Lyra squinted at the helm. "Yeah, maybe to your eyes, but—"

"Fouuundd youuuuu!" came a trilling voice catching Lyra's right ear. Lyra jerked her hand back from her forearm just in time for the bathroom door to blast off its hinges, which Lyra was unfortunately sitting directly against. With a cry of fright, she was forcibly tossed across the room and bounced off the edge of the wooden bathtub, knocking it over and spilling its gorey contents across the tiles.

Behind her fire roared into the room, washing across the walls from the burning bedroom. Myra stood in the doorway, violet flames coiling around her as her feathered wings of flame furled behind her back.

"Come here little sheep. I'll only hurt you a little bit. Okay, maybe a lot, but only before I show what's left to Rain. He'll just love love love to see you all burned up!"

Tendrils of violet flame unwound from her long legs and lifted into the air, ready to lunge like striking snakes.

Lyra put one hand on the bathtub and struggled to rise to her hooves. Needless to say, this was bad. She was trapped with her one escape from the room blocked by the elf. Her invisibility wouldn't save her here, and once the tendrils of flame had her, there would be nothing she could do to free herself. Opal had already vanished, but what help she could be when the elf was a torch of bright light that banished all shadows was questionable.

The image of Vash's decapitated head landing in her lap came chillingly to mind.

There was only one option left.

She brought her left arm to her mouth and then held her right forearm up in front of herself.

Then she spoke into her wool.

"She's here, do it now!"

The tendrils lunged, aiming to wrap around her. But before they could slap closed around her upturned arm, her wool exploded.

Lyra would never have considered such an idea had she not accidentally discovered her wool was immune to the chimaera's flames while fighting it. Which made a certain amount of sense as the flame would simply pass through as anything else.

With the undead chimaera now in her woolspace, and its neck holes pointed at the right spot, her right arm became the exit point for the chimaera's breath. All of it.

A heavy spray of liquid fire roared from her arm and struck Myra straight on, smashing her back into the bedroom as the walls around the door disintegrated.

"She's hit, cut it!" she yelled into her left arm.

The spray died, and Lyra scuttled over the door, peering into the burning room beyond, or what was left of it. The flames had died back once they had burned through floor rugs to the stone, leaving the walls and floor a smoking, blackened, mess.

Her eyes alighted on the bed, the sheets being tossed aside as Myra struggled free from the burning fabric, clearly annoyed but completely unharmed.

"It- It didn't work! Do it again!"

"Stop!" cried Myra as she was blown off her feet by another powerful blast of liquid fire, hosing from Lyra's arm like a burst barrel under unimaginable pressure.

The previously fire damaged wall collapsed under the impact, and she went tumbling into the corridor.

Lyra prowled after her, arm upraised and ready.

Yes, this was amazing! It was like she was some kind of destruction-focused high-leveler and not some weak rescue-focused low-leveler! Who even needed Rain? She could beat this elf by herself!

Myra struggled to climb to her feet but was repeatedly sent staggering backwards off balance as powerful blasts shot from Lyra's wool.

It almost seemed to be going well, with the small side note that Myra was almost entirely unaffected by the attack, and the even smaller side note that the building was still burning down around them.

"I'll kill you!" screamed an utterly infuriated Myra as her wings bloomed larger and the tendrils of flame latched onto the walls, dragging her upright.

This time, when the chimaera's flames struck her, she managed to hang on through the firestorm, remaining where she was and only swaying under the impact.

"Ah."

Not good.

Still, it wasn't like Lyra was unaware this could happen.

"Vash! The other neck, the other breath!"

The flames cut off from her arm, and then a moment later, what seemed like a compressed blizzard of dizzying freezing temperatures erupted from her wool, instantly sheathing her arm in tiny ice crystals and turning her fingers blue as dirty blackened ice roared from her arm, a cone of razor shrapnel and freezing cold.

Myra flung her hands up and the fires roared as she disappeared behind a wall of ice and snow. As the ice touched her flames it flash-evaporated in a cloud of steam.

Lyra took a step forward, then another, holding her arm steady as she poured ice and cold and snow onto the bonfire that was the elf, trying to smother and freeze her.

It was difficult to see with so much steam and snow, and the air was filled with the hiss of boiling away water, but a steady orange glow remained ahead of her, and to Lyra's dismay it appeared to be growing.

The ice wasn't enough, and the flame started to overcome the corridor blizzard, the air heating once more.

It was easy to see the futility of it.

In retrospect… Quistis may have had a point.

Seeing that the elf was gathering herself under the barrage Lyra took stock and made an executive decision to retreat. With one final ice breath for good measure and a billowing cloud of steam that filled the corridors and hallways, Lyra stepped into a side room and triggered her invisibility.

She was free to flee the maddened elf at least, but that did not help their situation.

So she hid and watched and waited as the mansion burned, waiting for a better opportunity.

The elf went on a berserk rampage hunting for her, until with a roar the structurally compromised floor collapsed beneath her feet and dropped her directly on top of the other that elf hunted.

Rain.