23 – Dash

Unsurprisingly, the gathering stirred at an orichalcum-rank pointing his bow at a thirteen-year-old girl.

Saffra, for her part, merely considered the situation. Jasper might have a flippant attitude, but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He was strange, but she’d tentatively categorized him as an okay person.

“I don’t know what she put on me,” Saffra said eventually. “But knowing her, they have to be pretty strong.”

Jasper loosened his draw and pointed his bow down. “Think it could hold against that?” he asked, gesturing with his chin toward the Ghul-Feather.

“Now, wait here, son,” the mithril-rank dwarf said. “I don’t know what you two are talking about, but you best not be sending her to get the cores.”

Saffra bristled. She faced the dwarf and crossed her arms. “Why not, if I’m the best option?”

He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Because you’re a child, child.”

Saffra’s hackles rose, and she bit out, “I’m thirteen, thank you. And so what? How does that change anything?”

The dwarf opened his mouth to respond, a look of forced patience on his face, but Jasper interrupted, “For the record, I agree. If we had any other choice, a duty like this shouldn’t fall to a kid.”

She gave him a betrayed look, and Jasper shrugged.

“That said, we don’t even know if this is viable yet.” Turning to his audience, he explained, “Her master put defensive spells on her before she left. Powerful ones. The question is whether they can hold up against a Titled-rank monster and anything it might throw at her. I won’t send her unless we can be certain she’s safe.”

“We won’t be sending her regardless,” the dwarf said flatly, eyes flinty.

Jasper paused. Irritation showed through a tightening of his mouth. “I understand the sentiment, old man, but sometimes there are no good options. Would you kill everyone else here for that shining ideal, including all the other children aboard?”

He had no good answer to that, though seemed far from convinced.

Despite trying to keep a casual air, Saffra could see Jasper’s posture tensing. She suspected he had been involved in a number of these ‘no good options’ scenarios, based on how quickly he had come to his decision, and how little he was wavering.

“It’s up to me, anyway,” Saffra said, glaring at the dwarf. “You don’t get to decide what I do. And neither does he.” She gave an annoyed look to Jasper as well.

The dwarf clearly wasn’t happy, but he sensed the crowd wasn’t with him—though almost all of the adults looked somewhat shame-faced. That irritated her even more.

“You said the Ghul-Feather is level twelve hundred,” the silver-rank old woman said. “Which means you’re the only one who can even come close to testing her defenses.”

“Sort of. Strength-wise, yes. But I want to verify that her shields trigger against every attack type, even if we can’t stress-test. And that it can stand against me. If the barrier eats a level nine hundred’s best attack without flinching, I’d say we have good odds. I’m open to other suggestions though.”

After a moment of silence, the woman grunted. “I see no better option, unpleasant as this is.”

Jasper nodded. He brought his arrow back to full draw and pointed it at Saffra. “Hold a hand out. I’ll aim for your palm, and start light.”

Having an orichalcum facing an attack at her made her skin crawl, but she trusted Jasper as much as she could a relative stranger, and moreover, she had enough of Vivi’s potion left to bring her back from the brink of death. Losing a hand to an experiment wouldn’t be pleasant, but she’d been an adventurer for eight months, so risk of bodily harm hardly scared her. Not when so much was at stake, at least.

“Everyone stand back,” Jasper said, putting distance between himself and Saffra. “I’m not liable for any accidents,” he cheerfully added, which, despite being a joke, wasn’t inspiring confidence in his audience.

Saffra herself felt no concern. An orichalcum-rank [Ranger] could pin a gnat into a board at a hundred paces. His arrow wouldn’t go astray.

She flinched when he finally loosed it, even if she managed to keep her hand locked in place.

Something sparked against her magical senses, and a prismatic ripple passed over her hand. But she didn’t feel a thing. Not a sense of pressure—not even like her palm had been flicked. Nothing at all.

“Promising. Bit stronger, this next one.”

He nocked another arrow. His green eyes locked on his target, and a tingle of danger-sense shivered down her spine. The first attack had been with his passive skills suppressed. This was going to be a ‘real’ attack by an orichalcum, if just a basic one.

Her stomach clenched, but Jasper loosed the second arrow and—

It shattered against the barrier harmlessly.

“Didn’t feel a thing,” Saffra said, impressed despite herself. With everything she knew of Vivi, she couldn’t say she was surprised, but it was incredible to see an orichalcum-rank attack ignored with such ease.

“One more, then,” Jasper said. “The best I have.”

He took a dozen paces backward, then nocked his third and final arrow. He struggled as he hauled back the string, the draw suddenly much heavier. His arms trembled as he held the position, eyes coming to a razor focus on her palm.

For the audience’s benefit, he spoke the barrage of skills aloud.

“[Charge Shot]. [Focus]. [Armor Breaker].” His voice grew strained as he activated ability after ability—even using two skills back to back could be a struggle. “[Antimagic Infusion]. [Rend].” His face turned slightly red. “[Marked For Death],” he growled out between clenched teeth.

Six skills, and orichalcum-rank ones. Saffra found herself sweating, but she held her hand steady. The audience seemed uneasy, and the dwarf almost seemed like he would jump forward to stop Jasper, but he thought better of the idea.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Jasper loosed his arrow.

She was too low level, her perception too slow, to understand what happened. There was a flicker of the arrow leaving his bow, or maybe she imagined it. Then earth fountained all around her, and her vision was obscured by plumes of dirt, and the chaotic noises of pattering rocks and clumps of soil and grass filled her ears. Several seconds later, voices were shouting, but she couldn’t make sense of anything since her vision was blocked. She ran her hands around her body, but found herself in perfect condition.

When the chaos settled, she stood in a circle of untouched ground. Unlike the previous attacks, the prismatic shield had manifested physically, probably because the arrow had become an area-of-attack spell. She had been guarded on all sides. In a two-foot radius she saw only undisturbed grass, and past that, the ground was pulverized. Presumably from the kinetic force of the shattered arrow. Not even from some inherently explosive aspect.

What a monstrous strength, for an arrow to turn into a miniature fireball from sheer firing force.

Jasper was laughing when the shouting calmed. “I think she’ll be fine,” he said mirthfully. “Let’s make sure it works against magic too though, and anything else we can think of. What’s everyone got?”