Book 6 Chapter 137

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Lindyss placed her hands on her hips and stared at the ground where nine unconscious people lay, their bodies covered in layers of soot and injuries, the soil blackened by ash and dried blood.

“Don’t you think you overdid it?” Erin asked from within the bejeweled skeleton’s skull. The fairy queen poked her head out of one of its eye sockets. The four elementals materialized on the skeleton’s shoulders, two per side. They stared at the beaten lords together.

“Is this bullying?” Sheryl asked with a furrow on her rocky brow. “Are we the bullies?”

“No,” Mistle said and crossed her sticklike arms in front of her body which was also her face. “We’re doing this to protect the residents of Erde. We’re heroes.”

Sheryl scratched her head. “I didn’t know being a hero would make me feel so guilty.”

“That’s a burden all heroes have to bear,” Mistle said and nodded. “It’s impossible to please everyone: interests collide, people do stupid things, and some villains are really charismatic. If you worry about hurting other people, you’ll never get anything done as a hero.”

Lindyss glanced at the chatting elementals but didn’t say anything. Instead, she stomped her foot on the ground and narrowed her eyes. The pit trembled, and the bejeweled skeleton stumbled as the bottom of the surged upwards, rumbling as it scraped against the earthen walls surrounding it. It didn’t take long for the floor of the pit to become level with the ground, replacing the hole with a scorched piece of earth.

Snores were the first thing Lindyss heard, and she raised an eyebrow at Vur and Tafel, who were once again huddling and sleeping outside like raccoons without a home. The cursed elf rubbed her chin. It was no wonder why her plan had failed. She had the brilliant idea of terrorizing the lords in battle until Tafel and Vur swooped in and pled for mercy on the lords’ behalf. That way, not only would they fear her, but they’d be grateful towards Tafel and Vur for saving them. Since Tafel and Vur were sleeping—unfortunately for the lords—no one stopped Lindyss from beating them all to near death.

A sigh escaped from Lindyss’ lips as she looked at Vur and Tafel before shaking her head. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her rocking chair, placing it on the unburnt region of ground. Her head turned towards the bejeweled skeleton. “Alright, it’s over,” she said. “Thank you all for the assistance. Now scram.”

The four elementals tumbled out of the bejeweled skeleton, and Erin flew out of its skull as Lindyss’ shadow elongated and enveloped the undead creature. Without making a sound, the skeleton vanished, and Lindyss’ shadow returned to its regular size. The cursed elf sat down and pulled out her knitting needles.

“You’re just going to sit here and knit like nothing happened?” Erin asked, taking a seat on the cursed elf’s shoulder.

Lindyss shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do?” she asked. “I’m not going to bore myself while waiting for these people to wake up.”

“You could pop Vur’s snot bubble and have him heal the lords,” Erin said.

“No,” Lindyss said and shook her head. “They have to wake up feeling battered and stiff. Otherwise, all the time I spent beating them would go to waste.”

***

Jasmine groaned as light filled her vision. She had had a horrible dream, one akin to fighting someone on land but feeling as if she were moving underwater. Instead of throwing ineffectual punches, all her techniques involving the manipulation of wind were negated by her opponent. No matter what she did or how hard she struggled, her efforts were futile.

Jasmine opened her eyes, and after staring at the sky for a short while, her eyes widened as she sat up. Well, she tried to sit up; instead, her torso rose halfway off the ground before a stabbing pain assaulted every part of her body, causing her to gasp and fall back down. She glanced to the side without moving her head, and the sight of several battered lords jogged her memory. Being beaten without being able to fight back, the experience wasn’t a nightmare; it was reality.

Jasmine’s root bracelet flashed amber, and a glass of red liquid appeared in her hand. She propped herself up with one elbow and brought the glass to her lips. After she drank the potion, she grimaced as she sat up and looked around. The insurmountable earthen walls were no longer there to trap her in a prison of despair, but the terrifying warden was still there.

“Congratulations on being the first one to wake up,” Lindyss said and gave Jasmine a small smile.

Jasmine gulped. “Is it … over?” she asked and hugged herself. “Once everyone wakes up, you’re not going to start sparring with us again, are you?” Sparring was the excuse the elf had given when she forced all the lords into the pit and attacked them without mercy.

Lindyss raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to? I don’t mind. With how strong you lords are, it’s no wonder why you’ll lose to the Oebu Sin.”

Jasmine’s face paled. “No, thank you for the offer though,” the Wind Lord said. If the sparring was sincere, she would’ve accepted the cursed elf’s offer, but what was the point in fighting when all of her abilities could be negated by one swanky skeleton? “That skeleton…. Why was it so strong?”

Lindyss glanced down at her knitting needles. “Oh, that’s simple,” she said with a straight face. “It drank a lot of milk.”

Jasmine stared at the cursed elf. “Pardon?”

“You know,” Lindyss said. “Drinking milk strengthens bones. What do you think happens when a skeleton drinks milk?”

“The liquid falls through their body and hits the ground because skeletons don’t have stomachs…?” Jasmine asked, her voice growing more and more uncertain the longer her question went on. “I suppose they could take milk baths….”


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