I was swayed from my sleep as we stopped in a high up Christmas looking tree. I don't know tree names here, so I just called it that.
The tree we were in was at least a hundred meters tall, looking over a large field that could have been acres of farmland. It was covered-literally covered-in two feet of bodies of monsters and beasts. The grass was crushed beneath them all, not a single green piece of anything sticking up anywhere. We were on the edge of it, looking at the bloody river that formed in the crevasses of their bodies, trickling down almost like a drain to the middle of the field.
I didn't want to focus my vision there. I didn't want to even open my eyes. But still, to get this over with as soon as possible and to learn, I did. Apathetically, I focused on one point in the middle, a large mass of dark green scales that was pointing its head to Hensia, far up ahead.
It's body was coiled tightly, forming rings around whatever it was squeezing. The tip of the tail was already five feet in diameter, while around the head was twelve feet. The middle, which was the thickest, was wider around than the well at the estate. Heck, it was more than just thicker, the snake looked like it could swallow Thérèse and me whole in one bite if it felt so obliged.
I turned my gaze down to the monsters at its feet. I saw that they were all frozen in place, like stuffed animals. Their entrails were leaking out, but their arms and legs didn't falter. They stood up, unconscious, and just about let the snake gut them.
Curious, I tried to search for the reason why. The human in the snake's grasp that it wasn't killing? Nope. Did Thérèse do something? Highly unlikely. Did the snake do something?
Candidate has 100 points!
From the side of it eyes, I saw a light. Someone wasn't shining a light onto it and making it glow, but rather the eyes themselves glowed that frightening yellow...and anything that made eye contact with it froze.
My tiny jaw dropped on my expressionless face. I never thought this knowledge would be useful, but, thank you boy with the last name of Potter for teaching me this stuff.
That snake isn't just an ordinary snake. It was a basilisk.
A fifty foot long snake that could freeze you with one look of its eye and swallow you whole.
I checked out its stats when I saw that.
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Name: First Terror of Basusda Monster Forest Age: 298 Race: Basilisk Monster
Partner(s): Snek Whitford
Snek Whitford Sub-Association: First Terror of Basusda Monster Forest's master
Title: First Terror of Basusda Monster Forest
Lvl: 103 (categorized B+)
HP: 300 MP: 50 STR: 1400 VIT: 663 DEX: 240 INT: 10 LUC: 4
Attribute: None
Skills: Eyes of Ice, Master Grip, Tighten, Life Absorb
Condition: Under mind control. To cure: death or dispel mind control.
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Thérèse, please don't try to fight that. Your awesome skills aren't seeming to all powerful in this forest anymore and I don't think a little short sword or some cutesy knives are going to do anything to this monster.
As if she could see what I was seeing, Thérèse frowned. She slipped her hand out forward really fast and grabbed something out of her storage. And then, in front of me, there was a great sword. She held in one hand and brandished the sword in the other, filling it with pure magic power to make it glow white light.
Ohhhh no you don't. I hit on her arm to make her remember my presence, but she only tightened me closer so that I almost couldn't breathe.
"Give me a few minutes Fir. I'll have cleaned up here quickly enough!"
She boosted her wind magic up, making the wind start to swirl around us with impeccable presence. I could literally see it as it ruffled her dress, making footholds beneath her.
Like a rocket, she got ready to launch and I immediately tucked my self in as much as possible, unable to lift my hood to cover my head because my arms were squashed. For some reason, only now do I feel the metal plating that was underneath her clothes.
Wait, even you need armor? What about me then? I'm more fragile than you!
The air around us contorted into white strips, forming a canon around us. Oh Stars...
"It's going to get a little messy, Fir. Take a deep breath..."
Her voice faded away.
We launched.
I didn't heed her words in time and choked on the lack of air.
A loud noise sounded in my ears, gravity not keeping up as the pressure threatened to tear me away. 200, 140, 70, and then ten feet away. I didn't know when we made contact with the beast because it seemed like only a second had passed before everything was dark, then light again as we were back in the the stars' grace, far on the other side of clearing, 300 feet from the tallest tree that we had started on.
Thérèse turned around in mid air and used her feet as a buffer as we slid, stopping our impossible pace in seconds. Her now bloody and dark great sword was stuck in the ground in front of us, a large trail cut into the ground as a brake. The bodies that had been here before from the basilisk's rampage were blown away by the power of her landing and the wind slicing forward in our stead.
I took a deep breath and pulled my head out of her breasts, about to cry. When I looked up at Thérèse I saw that we were extremely disgusting. And if that wasn't the word for it, I didn't know what was.
Instead of rushing in and cutting up the basilisk like I thought she would do, Thérèse made us become a part of the sword. She had thrust us through its opened mouth, threatening fangs closing in on us rapidly. And then we pierced out the back of its head covered in paralysis substances and other stuff I couldn't identify. I only knew about the first one because I was slowly numbing and becoming unable to move.
I was covered in blood. My maid was fearlessly standing while holding me, unfazed by what she just did. She held no shame for putting me through that, which made me realize something-that this, probably six out of ten times, was normal. Not the taking a baby and using your body to pierce a basilisk part, but the power abuse. The overplay of skills and techniques, using powerful blows to silence even more powerful foes.
The ranks of an adventurer were, from lowest to highest: F, E, D, C, B, A, S, SS, and SSS. There were certain ranges of levels that indicated what rank you had. Nothing below ten mattered because that was weakness.
10 and under was F.
11 to 27 was E.
28 to 49 was D.
50 to 77 was C.
78 to 110 was B.
111 to 153 was A.
154 to 207 was S.
208 to 289 was SS.
290 to 400 was SSS.
401+ was out of human domain. No one had surpassed SSS level four hundred to establish another rank. If someone encountered a level above 400 of a being, you were as good as dead. It's considered the peak of human based creatures if you can reach it.
Demihumans, beasts, elves, dwarves, succubi, lamia, beings such as those were stuck on the same scale as the humans.
Dragons, demons, and gods were on another plane of power. There was really no comparison unless you took us mixes, a dragon-human combination like mother and myself, into account. We were able to break through the scale if we worked hard enough and had blood thicker on the nonhuman side.
A human at a certain level could only beat someone one rank above their own as general knowledge, but that idea was extremely sketchy. For instance, it is not possible for an E-11 to beat someone of D-28 even if the ranks were right next to each other.
Because of this idea, the rank levels were broken down even further to be on the lower half of the numbers (-), the middle which is just the letter, and the higher half of the levels (+). So if it were an E+ against a D-, they could win. The chances were at least a little better than just an E.
If you apply that rule to this situation, logic breaks. How did a B- one shot KO a B+ bordering on A-? A 298 year old massive monster basilisk lose to a 30 year old human?
The answer is actually simple if you think about it: their skills and knowledge. When it comes down to it, it isn't your levels, stats, experiences, or anything like that that determines a battle's outcome. Those other things help when all added up, but they aren't what you can do.
Even a toddler could beat an SSS ranker with some good rope or well hidden hole by chance if that's what it comes down to. That's just a skill set they have, something out of many that is used in different ways to take down an enemy. If there is an advantage, great, that helps you out and makes the job all the more easier. If there isn't, fill in that gap with your own capabilities, whether you've got to take a rain check and learn them or make them up on the spot. The more you can do by yourself leads further to victory than how high your HP is so that you can take more hits. Your MP can't do much if you don't know what to do with it, like in my case. I'm useless without any skills or know-how of anything.
This world is based on strength. The strength you have and your abilities. I already knew that, but tonight just further proves my thought. Seeing these two from other ends of the spectrum, one supposedly higher than other beaten at their own game, gives me another thought: If I want to survive here and fulfill my pledge, I need to be strong. I need many, many skills and experiences, vast knowledge about everything here, and a high level of capability to deal with whatever is thrown at me. The only problem is that the possibilities of what I encounter are practically endless...
The feeling of knowing what it is like to conquer the impossible like tonight spurs me on to rise to challenge. It seems like these days I'm making so many pledges I'll forget them all, so I'll just make it a goal. A goal to increase my capabilities and learn as much as possible before my "judgement day," otherwise known as the day I receive my contracted task, comes.
With my third (fourth?...ah...ha...I'll go over my pledges later) promise added to my collection, I brought myself back to reality where Thérèse was leveling a glare colder than the basilisk at the so called Snek Whitford, who had been controlling the monster.
The man, in his forties at least, was sniveling to himself while kicking the giant carcass of the fallen snake.
"All of the monsters here are useless! Useless I say! They die so easily!"
"State your name," the bloodied Thérèse called out once she had calmed down enough. I could tell that she just wanted to kill him and be done with it, yet kill him slowly enough that she'd feel satisfied with the quality of her revenge.
Being here has made me feel a difference in the value of life. Before, I thought it was extremely high in value, as in a life for a life in vengeance. Such as the maid avenging the guards, which sounded odd on its own.
But other monsters killed each other like it was nothing without a regard for their own lives, just for fun. I guess it was just a matter of morals, surroundings, and values if you decided to care for every life or not.
"Huh?" The robed man turned towards us, snarling. He acted like he hadn't noticed us this whole time, quizzical when he saw the blood all over us as if he didn't know that she killed his mind controlled monster. You must be of a certain level to see that, so I guess he wasn't that much of a big deal. For Thérèse, that is.
I'd be crushed in a second if I applied that idea to myself as well.
"State your name." Her eyes were blank. Seemingly, at least.
"Why should I answer to you?" His lip curled up as he put on a cocky grin. "I bet I could beat you and that heavy sword if you're challenging me. Then we could have some fun afterwards."
That was even more disgusting than being covered in the remnants of beast entrails. No, thank you. I'd rather take a bath in this stuff, I shivered. The arm holding me was not shaking from carrying the sort of heavy me for a long time, grasping me harder when she felt my disgust. We were near the same wavelength on what we felt about this guy, hers just way darker and stained.
"Answer, Necromancer. State your name." She was unaffected by anything he said or did.
"Come on, don't be such a kill joy," he hopped over the snake's midrift and started coming towards us. He was only a hundred feet away when the great sword lifted from the ground and was leveled at his head, eye to tip. A tiny slice of air was sent at him and the next second I saw his whole long sleeve on the right side just fall off in a straight line, arm untouched. "Shit..." he muttered, only just looking at the blood on her and the hole in the basilisk's head. "It was you?! How did I not see that! I'm going to kill you for that! It took me a long time to tame this monster, and you just go and kill it!"
Thérèse's eyes narrowed. "Nameless One, you are a necromancer, correct?"
"What does it look like? This was supposed to be my army and you just go and ruin it! Now none of them are usable because the catalyst is gone!" He yelled and raved, going back and inspecting the basilisk's empty head as if to search for something.
"Did you revive the dead earlier today?"
"That's my fucking job!" Snek Whitford turned away from us and started mumbling under his breath while glaring at the open sky. There seemed to be a dark cover over it compared to when we were in less dense foliage with the same canopy-less foliage. "I can't go back like this...they'll kill me if I become useless..." my intensified hearing caught.
They? Who were "they?"
I looked more closely at his clothes, hoping to see something, anything that would signify where he was from. Or something that would give a clue to who these "they" people were.
He had a long priests robe on, but instead of white or brown it was a dark gray easily mistaken as black in the darkness. Down the middle was an extremely long tie like thing that had a circle at the bottom, with spikes lining it as if it were a crown of thorns. The sleeves were so long you couldn't see the hands, even though it was just one sleeve now, and the hem of the robe went all the way to his ankles.
For some reason, and I hadn't the faintest idea why, it reminded me of a sailor uniform. My friends back in Japan would be tsukkomi-ing right about now. "How the hell does that Gothic man look like a sailor girl?!
I never said the man looked like a sailor. Just his clothes...the longer, emo version. Perfect for hikikomoris. I would have bought one if I knew I wouldn't look like I was constantly ready for Halloween or some ritual.
I couldn't make recognize a single thing, from the pins on his lapel that looked like they were made of bone to the weird haircut he had that made me think he was trying to resemble a horse's tail with the sides shaved.
Thérèse looked as if she was affected by some loss. Then, as if that slightly bare expression was never shown, her face tightened.
Her voice rang out to Snek Whitford, who was preparing a spell under his breath while my combat maid was "distracted."
"Very well then. Nameless One, your last hour on Tasega is nigh. Prepare for death by my hands," her words started slipping into an old way of speaking, lifting her head up high as she brandished the almost clean great sword to Hensia. The blood had all pooled on the ground where the monster's remains had stained after resting there for some time.
"I think it's the other way around, you bitch. For ruining my hard work, you shall become a part of my next army! Front and center!" He yelled at the same time we launched forward, sword starting to glow again.
Rising up from the ground as our carriage hijackers did before, hundreds upon hundreds of corpses stood while relying on puppet's strings, dislocated bones or broken parts snapping into place. There were missing chunks in their bodies, but they still moved without them.
I looked around us, nerves steeled as I called up that feeling of impossibility being crushed again. Thérèse looked perfectly calm with her eyes wide open, target only the man and his heart. We had crossed the distance to the beasts before they had finished repairing themselves, sword tip about to pierce through the chanting man's heart. His head was down and his eyes were closed, concentrating. His life didn't even get to flash before his eyes, I could tell, because his heart was in and out the next second. His mouth immediately stopped moving on one last line, whispered out with his ending breath:
"And to the God of Death, I beseech thee: let them live again...stand...attack, my leg...ion..."
We weren't in time. The "strings" of mana snapped off of their arms, legs, and heads, letting them stand on their own.
The man fell off the sword, eyes blank and mouth wide open. As his body crumpled to the blood soaked ground, corpses absent from where they used to be, heads turned. The grating of bone on bone echoed through the night while their collar bones and shoulder blades scraped together.
And to us, thousands of eyes leveled pitch black stares and the most malevolent of grins.