MarekSusicky

  “Treat or kill, girl?”

  The boy’s attempt at intimidation was… sad. An amateur PKer, clearly.

  As a warrior, rule number one: don’t get your on dirty.

  I shivered. That was because of the cold from the stream, not fear—I was mostly feeling sorry for his poor spear. It didn’t deserve to be buried in mud like that.

  I wao retort something witty, but my brain refused to cooperate. Maybe it was the ck of wine or whiskey.

  e on, body, work with me here! At least I narrowed my eyes at him and say, “You are?”

  The boy blinked, surprised by my question and probably fused. His bravado slipped for a moment before he puffed his chest and shouted, “Slow one, huh? This is robbery! Things, or we kill!”

  I felt my cheeks heat up—from sedhand embarrassment. Oh, honey. “First,” I said, motioning to the tip of his spear, which was now firmly and disgracefully lodged in the mud. “Spear out. Be threatening.”

  He gnced down at his on and froze; the color draining from his face. The realization hit him hard, and in his panic, he ya the spear with far too much force. And the result? He toppled backward, nding ft on his rear with a wet spt.

  “Sed,” I tinued, fighting the urge to ugh as I motio the awkward formation of his group. “There.” My finger poioward the ground, where they all stood huddled together. “Well, not there. Surround target.” My Irwen voice racticed and cold by now.

  “Scram,” I ordered, letting the final word hang in the air for a beat before delivering the pune with a smirk. Thank Riker fivihis card. I poi myself. “Ranker.” The boy’s rades exged uneasy gheir fidence wavering as I fixed them with a gre.

  “She’s… The Charlie! Ra!” a girl in the rear squealed, her voice smashing through the awkward silence. Judging by her robes and the faint glow of a staff strapped to her back, she was clearly a mage.

  I tensed as she started moving toward me, practically boung with excitement. My mind raced through a dozen potential threats.

  Is she going to cast something?

  A trap?

  But theopped a few steps away, her cheeks suddenly pink as she asked, now shyly, “ I get a selfie?”

  “No way!” shouted oher, a bulky warrior type with a massive axe slung over his shoulder. “We’re not here for—”

  “Quiet, Greg!” the mage snapped, spinning around to gre at him before turning her hopeful gaze bae.

  The leader, still trying to salvage his dignity, let out a long sigh and walked toward me at a measured pace, spear now miraculously but still looking worse for wear. He g the mage, then at me, muttering, “Seriously? A selfie?”

  I stayed frozen, eying them all with suspi.

  What are they pying at?

  But before I could decide, the mage was suddenly beside me, ing an arm around my shoulders like we were besties. “Say cheese!” she chirped, holding up her interfad snapping a sshot.

  And just like that, my suspi evaporated, repced by something far worse: social ay. My entire body stiffened as the rest of the group started crowding arouheir earlier aggression now repced with star-struck awe.

  “Whoa, you’re really Charlie? The ra?” the rogue of the group asked, a wiry guy who looked like he’d been surviving off stolen bread rolls. “I watched all of your vids! Boss fight ic, but how you threw that Riker’s bouncer around! Badass IRL!” He actually made the motion.

  What? They recorded that? Of course Riker did. I shouldn’t trust him easily.

  “Do you still have the Spear of Destiny?” the bulky warri, apparently—blurted out, his earlier rese pletely fotten. His eyes sparkled with admiration, which was deeply uling ing from someone who looked like he could bench-press a beer barrel.

  “I heard you soloed Goolem boss! Is that true? Raking marks it as rumour!” the mage added, practically boung on her heels now.

  “You’re rettier in person,” Greg added awkwardly, scratg the back of his neck as his gaze darted everywhere but at me.

  “Greg, stop being weird,” the rogue muttered, elbowing him.

  I raised a hand weakly, trying to ward off the avanche of attention. “Uh, thanks, I guess?”

  “Wait, wait!” the mage interrupted, grabbiaff and holding it out toward me. “ you sign this? Like, with magic?”

  “Magic autographs don’t work!” Greg groaned. “They fade after a week!”

  “She doesn’t have time for this!” the leader barked, trying tain some sembnce of trol. The moment he locked eyes with me, I could see it—the flicker of awe he was trying to hide.

  “Wait,” the rogue said suddenly, pointing at my still-dripping robes. “Why were you iream? Like, in it?”

  I sighed, running a hand over my face. “Mud. Wolves. Long story.”

  “Must be quite the story,” the mage giggled, as though we were old friends sharing an inside joke.

  “Alright,” I said firmly, taking a step bad raising both hands to create space. “Look. Stuff to do. So maybe—”

  “ we party with you?” the mage asked, her eyes sparkling.

  “No,” I said immediately, shaking my head. This wasn’t what I asked for when I was remi of having nobody to go with.

  “Pleeease?”

  “Still no.”

  “You’re so cool!” Greg blurted out, his voice crag slightly. “True Ice Princess!”

  This is why I prefer going alone.

  “I’m on a very important quest. Solo. Sorry,” I said firmly, gng at their hopeful faces. The spark of excitement in their eyes dimmed almost instantly, and the crushing disappoi ractically tangible.

  Ugh. Why do they have to look so pitiful?

  “But!” I raised my hand, stopping their crushed spirits iracks. An idea formed—something that would let them feel important. If my ungrateful friend Lucas ever decides to return, maybe he’d learn a thing or two about gratitude.

  I reached into my iory, pulling out an enting paper, its surface glinting faintly in the sunlight. With quick strokes, I jotted a note on it, careful to phrase it just right. Then, slipping off my ring, I pressed it to the part, leaving an official seal that glowed before fading into the paper.

  [This pany is uhe service of Princess Charlie. Captain of guards, please grant them a quest of importance.]I ha to the mage, ted it with trembling hands like it was a holy relic.

  “I ow Fortification,” I expined, my toaking on Irwen’s regal edge. “Go there. Hand this over. There will be a gigantic battle in a few days—weeks, tops. Be ready. Fight on my side.” With every moment, my fidence grew, and I could get out a few more words.

  The group stared at the part, then at me. Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away, letting my robes swish dramatically behind me. Ugh, I’m such a showoff. Riker’s fir is rubbing off on me… and not in a good way.

  As I strode away, I heard them calling after me, their voices brimming with excitement and awe.

  “Goodbye, Princess Charlie!”

  “She’s so cool!”

  “True Ice Princess!”

  I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the ers of my lips. Well, at least they appreciate it. As Katherine says, spread love! Lucas… you better be back soon!

  Meeting this… bandit… group of pyers wasn’t on my itinerary, but at least it improved my mood. Until I saw more wolves.

  “I swear to the Ice-Blood God,” I grumbled, gring at the muddy path ahead. “If I have to fight them the entire way…”

  The universe answered with a resounding yes.

  For hours, I slogged through wave after wave of wolves, each more annoying tha. The XP was… fine, but it felt like a plete waste of time.

  Unfortunately, avoiding them wasn’t an option.

  They seemed to materialize ahe ground was muddy, which, of course, was everywhere.

  By the time I finally reached the hills, I was battered, mud-streaked, and muttering curses under my breath. At least there, the ndscape shifted.

  And, apparently, the system was happy I created the runes for my lighting and used it on a perceived enemy. “I hate you, mud!” I hit the ground with my spark and it ected.

  [To unlock a lightning, practice it: 715/1000]Gentle slopes rolled upward, and an a, ruined road stretched out before me. The path led toward Yarrice about I spoke to the children.

  What the heck? The road itself had scars of quest, its cobblestones cracked and worn. The Empire had destroyed it during their campaign against us—Charlie!—elven quest, not mine.

  I wasn’t there… was I?

  My memories were frustratingly fuzzy. I must’ve read about it somewhere, but the images in my head felt oddly vivid, like déjà vu.

  Nonsense.

  The problem wasn’t the road itself, though. It was the fact that it wasy.

  Sure, I could avoid it, trudge through the mud, and titling wolves until I colpsed. Or I could stick to the road, mud-free, but face tougher enemies.

  Ez decision.

  Hoppiween the remaining cobblestones, I advanced slowly, sing the area for movement. It didn’t take long before my first oppo revealed itself.

  [Guardian Lv.9]Type: 3-rare | HP: 180/180The creature emerged from the side of the road, a blend of nature ah molded into a bipedal thing.

  Its body was squat and beefy, almost as armored-dwarf, or Italian trying to drink whiskey, though its proportions were oddly weird. Its legs were too long, bending at strange angles, and its thick, bark-covered torso bristled with stones and sprouting twigs.

  “Great,” I muttered under my breath, raising my whip and shield. “Let’s see how this goes.”

  The creature’s head was almost pin, save for two faintly glowing eyes that followed me as I circled, my steps evading the patches of mud. Its movements mirrored mis twig-like appendages moving with anticipation as it shifted to show its side. Its feet locked into a precise stance—a cssic elven dueling position.

  “Ah, my friend,” I said, a grin tugging at my lips despite the tension. “Elven cssic style? Your swordpy is as easy to read as drinking Jameson.” I widened my stance, raising my shield in one hand and whip iher. “e at me!”

  My grin grew as I moved, adopting the imperial dueling style, stepping forward with practiced precision. That was until I remembered one very importaail: I didn’t have a sword. I had a whip.

  My good mood defted faster than a punctured barrel.

  The Guardian didn’t hesitate. Sensing my moment of hesitation, it advanced with a predictable, textbook maneuver—cssic to its style, but still dangerously effective. I barely raised my shield in time to meet the attack.

  [Block successful. Mitigated amount of damage: 3, other damage halved. Suffered amount: 5][New milestoo unlock a block, blo attack: 1000/10000]“Outchie!” I hissed as the impact drove me back a few steps. My pitiful strength showed its teeth again. It wasn’t enough to hold my ground, even with a perfect block. My arms ached from the reverberation, but I gritted my teeth aaliated immediately, my whip snapping forward with a sharp crack.

  [Armor not pierced. Target lost 3HP (6/2 normal damage)]“Oh, e on!” I groaned, watg as the creature barely flinched, its sturdy body abs the attack like it was nothing. “It’ll take forever!” So I started casting instead.

  “Ice Dance!” I shouted as the runes fred to life. Frost burst forth, casg like a shimmering rain and coating the ground in a thin, crystalline sheet.

  Freezing mud!

  The Guardian’s movements slowed as the ice crept up its legs, the satisfying crack of freezing twigs making me feel even happier.

  If I could read its moves before, now I could predict them. The frost emphasized every subtle twitch of its stance, every telegraphed shift of weight.

  But it wasn’t just the ice—it was Ice Dance. With my 62 Intelligehe spell packed a serious punch.

  [Armor not pierced. Target lost 12HP (6/2 normal + 9 ICE damage)]“Four times damage, babyyy!” I squealed, uo tain my glee as I saw the Guardian’s health bar dip for the first time.

  The creature didn’t seem pleased.

  It lunged forward, its twig-covered limbs shing out in a calcuted strike aimed for my feet. But with the icy surface beh me, and my heels anch me, its attack was sluggish and predictable. I simply slid my foot out of the way, my movements fluid and almost pyful.

  “Too slow, twig boy,” I taunted, grinning as frost tio swirl around me.

  The Guardiaated, its glowing eyes narrowing—or maybe that was just my imagination—as it recalibrated its approach.

  But I wasn’t worried.

  Why?

  The mud was frozen.