Chapter 7 - Inconvenience [Part 1]
“Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.”
- The Buddha.
For the past two nights, Seraphina had wasted precious time—time she could scarcely afford—waiting for her mysterious guests from the Empire. She had thought herself well-prepared, stationing her knights in concealed positions throughout the house.
With the power of her enchanted necklace, she had even managed to tame a large night owl, bribing the creature with food so it would keep watch over the estate. But therein lay the flaw: the owl’s understanding of people, let alone threats, was rudimentary and limited at best. A simple creature could hardly discern what an Imperial agent looked like. And so, despite her efforts, nature had ultimately failed her.
However, she had her serpent Cornelia, whose senses were far keener. Unlike the owl, Cornelia could taste the air, detecting foreign scents with ease. Through careful experimentation, Seraphina had even discovered the snake possessed a limited form of thermal vision. Most importantly, Cornelia could distinguish between members of the household and unfamiliar intruders.
Yet, despite her precautions, she had to concede defeat. Without properly explaining her actions to her guards or to Frest, she was beginning to appear irrational—even paranoid. To save face, she hastily declared this evening’s whole ordeal a nighttime drill. In truth, she doubted the Empire’s envoys would come at all. Perhaps the story had already diverged too far from the original game.
Besides, she had more pressing matters. The entrance exam was less than a month away. She was intelligent, of course, but even prodigies needed time to study. It was particularly irritating that her tutor had been delayed. His absence, she had been informed, was due to his search for a rare flower in the coastal forests near Meridian. He was due to arrive tomorrow, and when he did, Seraphina had every intention of giving him an earful.
Now, she sat alone in her room, Cornelia coiled comfortably across her lap as she attempted to absorb yet another tedious tome on Aranthian history. The text was dry, lifeless. Even with her intense focus, her eyelids grew heavy, her shoulders slumped. She was just about to call for Miriam to bring her some refreshments when Cornelia suddenly hissed.
A warning.
Seraphina stiffened. She cursed herself for letting her guard down. A cloying scent filled the room—sweet, perfumed. She felt it instantly: her great Strength beginning to ebb as tiredness seeped into her limbs. A shadow dropped soundlessly from the ceiling.
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Her serpent struck without hesitation, sinking its fangs into the intruder’s leg before slipping swiftly beneath the bed. Seraphina tried to call out, but her voice failed her. The assassins had come well-prepared.
How did they get in? The thought barely registered before more figures slipped through the window, their movements swift and practiced. Her pulse quickened. This was dangerous.
Dangerous… but nonetheless most exciting.
It was with great satisfaction that she saw that the intruder Cornelia had sank her fangs into was choking to death, his lungs paralyzed, as he lay on the floor.
She reached under her dress and activated Dash. A sudden burst of speed propelled her forward as she drew the dagger strapped to her thigh, slashing across the chest of the nearest assailant. Sparks flared as steel met hidden armor, but the force of the blow sent him staggering. She spun, her body moving on instinct, her training—both from this world and the one before—kicking in seamlessly. A snap kick aimed for her head. She ducked.
A net flew toward her; she twisted aside. A weighted rope lashed around her ankle. They were trying to capture her, not kill her, she realized. Before they could tighten their hold, she activated Dash once more, flinging herself backward. The sudden motion yanked her attacker off balance, sending him hurtling toward her—
Right as she crashed into the wall.
Or rather, through it.
The sheer force of her impact shattered the inner wall, a testament to her immense Strength attribute. Dust and splinters rained around her as she landed heavily in the adjacent room. Despite the crash, she took only minor damage—her unnatural resilience, a gift from her extraordinary Constitution.
Seraphina blinked, shaking off the dust and plaster as her vision cleared. She had landed hard, her senses reeling, but as she regained her bearings, she realized she had fallen directly in front of her maid.
Miriam had been ironing clothes. Now, she stood frozen, wide-eyed, her gaze locked onto her mistress.
But only for a moment.
She had long known that danger clung to Lady Seraphina, and without hesitation, she hurled the red-hot iron at the nearest assailant. It sailed through the air, missing by a hair’s breadth. Already, she was reaching for the cudgel she had recently taken to keeping by her bedside.
A guttural snarl ripped from Miriam’s throat as she planted herself between Seraphina and the intruders. She was outnumbered, but that mattered little. With the fury of a berserker, she threw herself into the fray.
Shouts rang out as the household stirred. The intruders, realizing their element of surprise was gone, drew their blades. If they could not succeed in their initial objective, they would at least ensure their target died.
Seraphina gritted her teeth. Miriam was buying her time—time to recover. She focused inward, summoning up Heal. Golden energy surged through her, mending flesh and, more importantly, repairing the damage to her throat.
“Get back, Miriam!” Seraphina commanded.
Miriam obeyed instinctively, springing backward on all fours like the Palisa Slug she truly was beneath the guise of a simple maid. Blood dripped from her wounds, but she did not falter. Like her mistress, she possessed a monstrous Constitution.
Now, it was time to confirm once and for all if her magic truly did not suffer from “friendly fire.”
