For three-hundred ninety years, the Dark Lord, Gormlaith, and her goblins had lived in peace until I came around, sullied their lands with evil energy, and broke their barrier to their city. But it’s not my— Yeah, this is my fault.
“I understand. As a Remlian adventurer, I also cannot turn a blind eye to this threat to the kingdom. Champion of Light Freyja Deus Gastolfo, I will help you with this task. Together, let us defeat the dreadful Dark Lord.”
✦ ✦ ✦
That decided—
“Pardon me, Your Darkness, but tomorrow I’m bringing a Champion of Light here to vanquish you.”
—I informed the skeletal ruler.
“Huh?” everyone present spluttered, their voices rising in incredulity. Just to paint the picture, Éa was busy boiling udon, and Machina was ladling out portions of curry to the thirty-odd goblins gobbling it down with forks. We’d all gathered for a sort of stand-up dinner. At the moment, a respectful line of mini diners awaited another serving. The evil sovereign stood on the same line, patiently and politely waiting her turn. Surreal for sure, but a peaceful scene.
“Is she really a Dark Lord? And look at all these goblins! I’ve only ever read about them in books before, but there are so many………” Lana, who had come with me, was flabbergasted.
“Lala, you want some? It’s really good. If you do, just get in line.”
“Oh, okay.” Lana did as her little sister instructed and took her place at the end of the line. The goblins around her stared.
“What’s with all the talk about Champions, man? You’re harshing the vibe.” Gaslark walked over, a bowl of curry udon in his hands.
“I’ll explain the gist of what happened,” I assured him. “Let’s find a quiet place to talk.”
“Nah, we’re good right here.” If he’s good, then I’m good.
“Your Darkness, the Otherworlder says he wants to chat.”
“Can I get a refill first?”
“Just take mine.”
“Okaaay,” the caped skeleton chirped, then left her place in the middle of the line to join us. Taking the bowl Gaslark offered, she sat down gently on the grass, her legs curled under her, and stretched out a little to the side, then started to eat the noodles. Taken out of context, the sight was enough to confuse pretty much anybody.
“So what’s up?” Gaslark popped a squat next to his leader. I felt it would be rude talking down at them, so I joined them on the grass.
“Earlier today, an adventurer by the name of Freyja Deus Gastolfo, who called herself a Champion of Light, came to my campsite to ask for our help in defeating the Dark Lord. Right now, though, she’s out like a light in a food coma.”
“Ahhh, is it that time already?”
…………Are Champions a seasonal occurrence?
I heard the daintiest gulp; Gormlaith was slowly slurping her noodles. Don’t laugh. Hold it in.
“When do you think you’ll have the barrier back up and running again?”
“Way ahead of you, man. It’s already fixed.”
“Huh? Then does that mean the Champion can’t reach you here?”
“Well, all the barrier does is create an illusion. Once you see what’s really here, it won’t work on you anymore. You and your crew made it through no problem, right? Also……” Gaslark shot a glance over at his sovereign.
“It’s all right, Gaslark. You can tell them. In the name of all udon, let us unveil the truth.”
“The barrier uses blood from Her Darkness’s previous life to function, so anyone related to her can slip right past.” I knew it, they were related.
“I don’t know this Freyja per se, but I assume she must be descended from either my younger or elder sister.”
“I see.” Now I got why the Champions wanted to surreptitiously seal away any Dark Lords who could be traced back to their bloodline. Or wait, did the presence of a regicidal ghoul in the Gastolfo family cause them to beget a Champion of Light?
“She strong?” the goblin inquired.
“She’s, uhh…” I motioned for Lana, now ladled with curry and udon, to come over. She took a seat next to me. “You’re gonna stain your robe. Here.” I took off my poncho and tied it around her neck.
“Thank you, my love.” She smiled at me sweetly.
“This is my wife, Laualliuna Raua Heuress,” I introduced her.
“Just Laualliuna—I no longer have any relation to the Heuress family. Your Wicked Majesty, please forgive me for coming to you empty-handed. I had very little notice I would have the honor of meeting you.”
“They’re huge…… I’m green with envy,” the Dark Lord growled maliciously through gritted teeth. Lana signaled an SOS with her eyes, silently asking, What do I do now?
“It’s fine, Lana. We’re not exactly standing on ceremony today, so don’t worry. More importantly, can you tell us about Freyja?”
“Of course, darling.” The Dark Lord gnashed her teeth even louder. Taking what I said to heart, Lana dived into her explanation. I swear, that she had a lot of guts. “Freyja Deus Gastolfo is a Leader of the Final Flame, a title accorded to only thirteen students in the entire history of the Hoense School of Magic so far.”
“Sorry, ‘Leader of the Final Flame’?” I cut in.
“‘Should five of these masters appear in the same era, the world itself could fall to ash beneath their awesome might.’ It’s an honorary epithet tied to the superstitious lore the Great Pyromancer Robbe left us. It’s also, by the way, a title that I’ve earned as well.” Lana beamed proudly. Damn, so three more of you, and the world’s done for.
“W-well, I bear a mage’s title, too, I’ll have you know. They call me the Herald of the Setting Sun,” the skeletal overlord chimed in, strangely committed to holding her own in this competition.
“‘Herald of the Setting Sun’? Ohhh, yes, that ancient title. For destroyers of kingdoms, I believe,” Lana mused. “……Heh-heh.” Quietly, she scoffed. Whenever it came to magic, it was like my wife became a completely different person; her confidence, which was second to none, at least in this area, reared its proud head. Maybe that’s why she always acted elfishly arrogant on the subject.
“So, Lana.”
“Yes, darling……? Ahm.” This Leader of the Final Flame dug into her udon. She had been eyeing her meal anxiously for the last few minutes and finally lost all self-restraint. Determined not to fall behind, the Dark Lord chowed down on her noodles, too.
“What kind of damage could Freyja do if she went all out?”
“Well, slurp. And…… Ngh. Shlrrrp, shlrrrp……turtle’s, gulp. About half shlu-slurp meadow……”
Look, I know I told you not to stand on ceremony, but it’s still rude to talk with your mouth full.
“I…ee. We ca…et her…burn all the…slurp, slurp.” Though obviously missing vocal cords and an esophagus, the Dark Lord started copying Lana’s garbled speech, which surprisingly, she seemed to have understood. The two continued this otherwise unintelligible, choppy exchange for a good minute, all while still eating. Gaslark and I squinted disapprovingly like Tibetan sand foxes at the two for their horrid table (meadow) manners. The experience taught me that mages of a certain caliber or of higher ranking probably shared some common qualities.
Approximately five minutes later: “So basically,” the goblin began, piecing together the gist of the ladies’ fragmented discussion. Guess he’d managed to follow it, too. “Looks like this Freyja Champ could raze half the meadow if she wanted, though they don’t know if she could take Her Darkness on and win. Though, if she goes overboard, she’ll burn up all the crimson-mortalis flowers. Since they haven’t finished purifying the evil energy from the land, the cursed bits will fly off in the wind with the rest of the ashes and cause trouble elsewhere. And we could try hiding deep in the dungeon, but another Champion would barge in looking for us anyway. Not cool, dude.”
“I’m amazed, and honestly somewhat pleased, to learn a descendant of the Gastolfo line has become such a powerful mage. Still, it would be incredibly dangerous for the curse’s remains to scatter, because it will take at least a century for that tainted dust to be purified. There is no telling what havoc they might wreak on the ecosystem in that time. And if they were to touch a normal heim, then—”
“Your Darkness, we can talk research and theories later,” Gaslark interjected. “In other words, we’d be in deep trouble if the Champion made a mess around here, but Her Wicked Majesty is stuck to this place. What are we gonna do?” The goblin poked me a few times. “Also, dude, you seriously want to do the Dark Lord in like that?”
“Who, me? Never.”
“Riiight?”
Ha-ha-ha! The two of us let out a jolly chuckle together. Man, I totally vibed with this guy. It’s like we were on the same wavelength, you know? Like our energies did the talking for us. Whatever that means. I got along with Ghett, too, and he was a merman. Maybe I just bonded well with inhuman races, in more ways than one.
Combing through all the info at hand, I started to put a tentative plan together.
Well, anyway. I think we’ve got this.
“So in summary, all we need to do is protect this area around the dungeon from harm and either vanquish or seal away the Dark Lord—or, at least, make the Champion think that’s what happened. That should about do it.”
“Hmmmm, that sounds tricky, don’t you think? I doubt she’s dumb enough to fall for it, either.” The skeletal sovereign made an excellent point. I couldn’t be certain of my judgment on a woman whom I’d only met earlier that day, but—
“No, it’ll work. I am devoted to Lady Mythlanica the Malevolent, for whom deception and trickery are child’s play. I guarantee you we’ll fool the Champion of Light, secure the meadow’s safety, shield you from harm, Your Wickedness, and protect the goblins and their way of life. You need only leave it to me.”
Honestly, I was getting used to this kind of thing.