Misfit’s Journey

Count Philipe Kepler.

He was the nobleman who ruled over Sylvane and the absolute authority within the town’s walls. Despite all the power he held, the nobleman’s frame was marked by thin, frail limbs beneath his opulent attire. The years on his back had withered away the aristocratic stature that most nobles boasted and an indulgent and protruding belly was a testament of years of excess and decadence.

His face was wrinkly and his forehead large. His eyes, sunken and calculating, carried an arrogance and pride created by age and political power.

The old man stood surrounded by guards and knights of all varieties and levels, but from the roughly fifty men, fifteen were at least Adept-level knights. Such a substantial display of force seemed rather excessive for a simple morning visit.

Valeria looked at the group of armed men. The count had a purpose in coming here, but she failed to figure it out. Besides forcing her way inside the noble district, making a guard piss himself in public, and bringing an elf into town, she really had no idea what could possibly warrant a visit from the lord and his military.

Sure, she did not exactly behave while in this town, but he was the lord of an entire city. A busy man, yet he bothered to come to her mansion and mess up her wonderful alone time with Eirwen.

She scanned the guards and knights, but while the fifteen Adept Knights were powerful, the rest were not really that outstanding and probably served more as decoration. If it were to come to a fight, they would have no business being in this place.

The moment he interrupted her morning, Valeria did not plan to play nice, so whilst stepping out of the door, she let the arm holding her sword drop. The tip of the blade clashed against the ground. Sauntering toward her guests, she drew the sword over the ground as it ripped through the paved path. The action had the wished effect and she saw at least half of the guards tensing, while the knights brought their swords to their handles.

The knights wore no armor, which indicated that they were not planning for combat, so she refrained from simply rushing in there and beating them up. Had she still her noble title, she might even have played the manners game and showered the count in false pleasantries, but she was done with this kind of thing and it was better to show him that he was not dealing with a noble.

Despite his henchmen’s reaction, the count managed to keep calm, which had Valeria curious, so she finally decided to give him a closer look.

[Mage | Lvl. 259]

It was not bad for a noble, and he was by far the strongest of the bunch, but the fact that he brought so many people was quite telling. He did not dare to confront Valeria alone.

Valeria stopped a few steps away from the gate and met the count’s eyes.

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit,” she glared at the assembly in front of her, focusing her gaze on the old noble, “Count,” she added.

Despite her being stronger than any of them, that only applied individually. Valeria had a good grasp of her strength and if they played things right, they were enough to kill her. However, if a fight were to break out, it would wake up Eirwen. And, maybe because she was an elf, they underestimated her.

So all in all, the count had no chance of winning, although he needn’t know that.

“Lady Drachfell,” he started politely before suddenly changing his attitude, “or is it just Valeria now?” He asked mockingly, evidently a poor try to provoke some reaction.

Sadly enough, Valeria was quite convinced that the count was more offended by her disenfranchisement than herself. For people like him, who valued blood more than anything, someone like her was probably like a traitor to nobility. If he thought she would be offended by him pointing out her lack of a title, he might not understand the word ‘voluntarily’.

The count snickered to himself, but when Valeria did not react in the slightest, he cleared his throat. “It has come to my attention that your actions within my town have been notably conspicuous. Certain deeds you've undertaken might merit an apprehension.” He cast a glance at the Hero of Fire, measuring her reaction to this accusation, but Valeria was calm.

Instead, Valeria drove her sword into the ground with a single forceful motion. The earth quivered, and the ground cracked, but none of the count’s men fell, a slight disappointment to the Hero of Fire.

“Then did you come here to arrest me? I may have laid down my noble title, but the Drachfell won’t sit still if one of their own were to be imprisoned by an insignificant count.”

The count did not possess the strength to capture and incarcerate Valeria, but he didn’t need to. Unlike with monsters, this was not a simple contest of strength where the winner would triumph and get their will. She could not be the first to attack, since that could be seen as insinuating an attack on a kingdom official—if played right, this could quickly become a treason charge.

Even if Kepler were to attack her and she killed him in self-defense, other nobles might use it as an excuse to take action against her and her companions. Of course, if it came down to it, she had no fear of dying, but all of these restrictions were one of the reasons she left noble society.

“Worry not, your crimes can be overlooked,” he halted, briefly looking at the sword beside the former Drachfell heir, “in return, I need you to lend me that sword of yours.”

She smiled. "Pray tell, what might the noble Count Kepler seek from a humble commoner?" While Valeria outwardly mocked him, she harbored a genuine curiosity about Kepler's reasons for requiring her assistance.

Individuals of his ilk typically possessed excessive pride that prevented them from seeking help, especially from a commoner he had no affiliation with. If it was because of her connection to House Drachfell or her being the Hero of Fire, she couldn’t tell, but the whole thing was suspicious to no end.

“I think it is about time you invited me into your home. Talking out here will just annoy the neighbors,” he said.

Valeria considered the man for a moment, but even if it was proper etiquette to invite him in, she saw no reason to let an armed force trespass into her home. Also, Eirwen was sleeping inside, and she was not about to let this man in the same space as her.

“I’m afraid my neighbors will have to live with that,”

The count frowned, but even if he disliked it, he wanted Valeria’s help, so just this would not be enough to make him back down.

“It appears to me that your title is not the only thing you lost. Fine, have it your way. I require your assistance with a certain creature,” he grumbled.

This had her raise an eyebrow. “What kind of assistance?”

“I need you to bring it to me. Alive or dead,” he stated.

“I would have thought you had a knight order for these kinds of things,” Valeria replied, her gaze wandering towards Adept Knights surrounding the count. None of them dared meet her eye.

It was true that she was far stronger than them, but there were fifteen of them. They should have been more than enough of a force to take out most of the things Valeria could take out on her own. That meant there had to be another reason as to why the count needed the help of an outsider.

“The creature in question is a Wild Woman from the Bloodriver,” he spoke confidently, apparently entirely unbothered by the sheer insanity this statement carried.

Valeria’s Perception was high, so it was very unlikely for her to have misheard, but she still had a hard time believing these words. But if that was really what she was supposed to do for the count, then she would rather take Eirwen, Leon, and Gerd and get out of this town as soon as possible. As a woman of common sense, she was not about to commit murder on Mother Nature’s holy ground, much less against one of her daughters. 

“If so, I’m afraid I cannot help you, Count, and I suggest that you forget about whatever you had planned on doing with her.” Valeria, for once, was genuine in her warning. Not because she worried about the count, but because she was afraid of what the wrath of nature could do to this town and its citizens.

After rejecting the count, Valeria thought his knights would pull their swords or the count would get angry, but instead, he just sighed.

“I had expected as much,” he started, “which is why I organized a bit of a motivation for you.” He finished his sentence with a snap of his fingers and one of his knights suddenly ran off somewhere. The man was fast, given he was a level 200 knight.

Valeria kept her mouth shut, an inexplicable uneasiness growing inside of her. What could motivate her to sign a suicide note and start the genocide of the century?

“Yesterday, one of my guards found a half-blood elf traversing the streets of this town. Naturally, as it was his responsibility, he observed the filth to protect the town from it. And indeed, he was found stealing from a herbalist.”

By the time he finished, the knight had returned, carrying in his hands a familiar wooden staff. Leon’s wooden staff. Valeria’s uneasiness grew even further as her frown turned into a glare that caused all of the count’s men to take a step back, everyone except for the count.

“The thief shall face execution on the morrow, condemned for daring to resist a just arrest and inflicting grave wounds upon one of my esteemed subordinates.”

Hearing this almost caused Valeria to explode, her aura begging to flare up and send all of the fools before her frothing and choking on pure fear and terror, but even if she slaughtered them all here and now, she would become a criminal. In the end, despite forsaking the shackles of nobility, the rules of society were still binding her. If only she had the power to disregard humanity and all those who bothered for rules and justice. But alas, as she was now, there was nothing she could do without ruining Eirwen’s or her future.

Even if she wanted to tear off that living undead’s head and incinerate it, she would need to rein in her emotions. After all, there must be a reason why Kepler brought up Leon. He was trying to extort her to get his will.

“You should be more than aware of what consequences the abduction of a Wild Woman will have,” she spat.

“I am well aware, but you needn’t concern yourself with the specifics. Your sole task is to ensure the retrieval of the target’s body. If you do your task well, I will spare the half-blood,” he responded his words carrying a sinister undertone.

“This is madness.”

“You might be right,” he mumbled to himself,  his admission suggesting a certain detachment from conventional morality. “Oh, and lest it slips my mind, you shall undertake this mission by your lonesome. Leave that elf behind. I cannot allow you to take her into the Bloodriver.”

“Why? If you want this done properly, having her by my side would make this way faster,” she inquired since she was not feeling comfortable with the thought of leaving Eirwen behind.

“That, too, is something you do not need to concern yourself with. There is no room for discussion. Go against my word, and the half-blood’s head will roll.”

“We will follow those terms.” Before Valeria had the chance to process or reply in any kind, a voice interrupted their conversation. One she hoped she would not hear at the moment. It was none other than Eirwen.

The blonde elf was at the mansion entrance in one moment and at Valeria’s side in the other. Barely a second passed a testament to her incredible speed and a display of power. Judging by this, she had heard about Leon.

Valeria noticed a cold, murderous glint in her lover’s eyes, one she saw only on the rarest of occasions. It meant that Eirwen was in a state of mind where she played the role of a High Elf.

“Eirwen! What are you doing out here?” Valeria asked, the panic clear in her voice, but Eirwen did not look at the Hero of Fire, instead just grasping her hand, while addressing the count.

“Since you have my brother, I will follow along with your little play, puny human,” she spoke arrogantly, clearly treating the count like a lesser being. His face flushed red with anger at the sheer disrespect from the elf, but Eirwen stood unbothered as if watching a child throwing a tantrum. However, he managed to control himself.

Kepler looked at the elf. There was only disdain and contempt in his eyes. For him, elves were like beasts, having one talk to him disgusted him, but having one look down on him? He boiled with rage, that much was obvious. However, the same was true for Eirwen and Valeria.

After successfully hiding his anger, the count flashed a smile that deceived no one but himself.

“Since the elf has agreed, shall we talk about the details?”