Jjhutto_Son of Flame
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B3. Ch. 35 Marked
🕑 Added 2024-09-10 00:29:01 +0000 UTCTilly’s eyes stayed locked on Oberon as his smile turned downward into a pout. Like all of the other expressions Tilly had seen the fey king wear, this one seemed unnatural, forced in a way that made Tilly’s skin crawl.
“Can’t say I recognize you friend…” the king ground out through petulant lips at whoever had just arrived.
“You wouldn’t, ya weirdo, so fuck right off.”
The king’s expression lightened at the remark as if he thought it was a double entendre and he turned back to Tilly, uncaring smile back on his face. A rumbling growl began emanating from the werewolf, and the eldritch-infused jack-o-lanter’s eyes started to glow a deep green as they turned toward the newcomer. At the same time, servants began streaming into the room, removing tables and dishes all around them
With a happy sigh, the insane king breathed out a small, rich chuckle, “Well, I think this was absolutely delightful! Tell your masters I say ‘hello’, we will be meeting again shortly.”
Tilly barely registered Oberon’s words when an explosion of pain ripped through his chest. He looked down in confusion to see the tip of the horn buried deeply in his ribs and looked up to find a feral, almost orgasmic joy playing across the fey’s face. Then like shattering glass, everything went to hell.
The two goons dived at whoever was behind Tilly, each sprouting a knife in one of their eyes for their trouble. A furious whispered shout sounded all around the arena,- “You can’t be serious?!”- as animated cloth burst between Tilly and Oberon. Conflict began to play out on several fronts, but it was all lost on Tilly who had begun to feel the tip of the horn pumping a sickeningly familiar substance into his chest. It wriggled and clawed at his insides as soon as it gained entry to his body, attempting to flood it as fast as possible.
It was a horrifying experience, one made even worse by the fact that he had felt it all before. But unlike last time, Tilly had a ludicrous Endurance stat and the Title, [Hostile Enviroment] tailored for situations just like this. The fire smoldering at Tilly’s center burst into an inferno, sizzling through the pathways Corruption had carved in a vicious counterattack that burned all the way back to the horn itself.
The disturbing item screamed in response to the flame as the battle continued to rage all around them. Then in a move that was still too fast for Tilly to track, the horn was ripped free. Tilly’s line of sight was blocked by the whirlwind of cloth flying everywhere, but none of it matched the storm building inside Tilly himself. Rage boiled in his veins and both his flame and the Draconic Authority suffusing his aura demanded retribution.
No conscious decision was needed as he began to channel Flame’s Expulsion, while simultaneously pulling on his title, [All or Nothing] to blow as much of this room to pieces as possible. But before he could unleash his fiery reprisal, the cloth flowing around him cleared and he slammed the ability to a halt as the scene unfolded before him.
Several Auction House workers were dead on the ground, while many more fought against the goon squad that had accompanied Oberon. Apparently the attack had merited a full-scale response from the whole Faction. The Auctioneer themselves was locked in a stalemate with Oberon, whose sword flickered in a thousand defensive parries, cutting the mana-infused cloth attacks to ribbons, as the robbed man sent an endless storm of cloth at the assailant. But not even a thread seemed to be able to pierce the maelstrom of masterful swordwork. The Fey’s off-hand still somehow held the horn, but Tilly was gratified to see its tip now blackened and smoking.
“You are banished from my halls Oberon, and the Fey Court is henceforth barred!” The Auctioneer’s whispering shout radiated through the room, as the walls began to glow and reality began to fold itself around each member of the attacking group.
“You have no power over me, you neutered fool.” Oberon’s voice replied in a gleeful challenge. Then, while his sword arm was still a blur, he put the horn up to his lips and grimaced as he blew into the object releasing a sanity-fraying call of screams and cries of joy all wrapped up in wild abandon.
BRWWWAAAAA AHAHAHahahahAHAHA.
The whole room seemed to shake, and the reality folding technique attempting to engulf their party was stopped in its tracks, as the space behind the king and his group was ripped open. The Auctioneer redoubled his attacks and many more Auction House members around the room joined in the offensive, but the towering swamp thing burst into thousands of separate appendages, each rising into the air to meet and cancel the attacks as the rest of the attackers disengaged and moved toward the opening.
Oberon smirked, the expression made somewhat more comical by the reddish burn mark that marred his statuesque mouth, “I look forward to seeing any of those who are ready to die at the Contested Lands!” He shouted to the alcoves of the arena before turning toward Tilly,- “And you! It seems that our future meeting will be even more interesting than I thought. I will see you on the open field” He finished with a snarl, before stepping back through the rent in the air, followed closely by any of the group that was near enough to dive through.
Not all of them got away, many of the goons succumbed under the combined attack power of the Auction House before making it to the escape portal. Even the swamp thing, which was right next to the rent in space, seemed to have exhausted its ability to move with the defensive measure it had taken to cover its leader's escape. Instead of moving toward the point in space that had rapidly shrunk, it lay there in a quivering mass, numerous mouths snapping weakly at the air as its entire form fought to maintain cohesion after enduring the onslaught.
For his part, Tilly’s chest was still leaking blood and smoking ichor. It slopped onto the ground in a sizzling puddle and revolution mingled with a righteous disdain as he looked down on the invader,
‘God I hate that stuff.’ He sighed internally.
The rent in space popped closed and the remaining enemy combatants were folded up into magic origami as Tilly quieted the fiery rage thrumming in his system. Part of him was disgusted with the fact that he hadn’t gotten in a single blow on the enemy, the other, more logical side of his brain argued that such an outcome was ideal when viewed through the hosting Faction’s traditions. With a deep breath, he wiped away a piece of rotting plant appendage that had landed on his jacket shoulder.
In the middle of the act, he remembered Mochizuki and the attacks of the werewolf and scarecrow. He whipped his head around to find the lapin and saw her being helped to her feet by a very interesting-looking tanned male with distinctly elvish features.
The elf looked to be wearing an odd combination of Western and Arabian gear, topped off with an Indiana Jones-style full-billed hat. Tilly almost rushed over to check on her, but he managed to stop himself as he remembered just how many eyes were on him from the glassed-in alcoves. Instead, he did his best to turn his urgent backward look into a cool scan of the room. His eyes finally landed back on the Auctioneer, whose many lengths of robe were slithering back to surround their hidden body in swaths of dark-colored fabric.
“Well, this is turning out to be even more eventful than I had planned…” The Auctioneer muttered in a whisper that was uncharacteristically quiet as they straightened their many-layered robes. The motions seemed more out of habit than to effect any sort of result and they did nothing for the cuts and burns that had all but ruined the vast majority of the outfit. However, their disheveled appearance didn't stop the Auctioneer from taking a deep breath and then looking out at the walls of the arena to make another declaration in a haughty tone,
“If any of the rest of you plan to do mischief, please do so now and get it out of the way. If at all possible, I would like to finish the rest of this event without any more interruptions. I mean honestly…” They huffed in forced exasperation. The unaffected act was smooth, and if Tilly hadn’t been standing right next to the Auctioneer, he would never have noticed the slight tremble that marked the ends of the figure’s long sleeves. Whether that trembling was fear or anger, TIlly could not tell, but the recent events had obviously rattled the leader of the Faction.
Realizing he had to make some similar show of strength for the combined representatives of every Faction of note on the plane, Tilly let out an explosive sigh, “I suppose this is not normally how this event proceeds? I was under the impression that the guest here would be more… Considerate.” He drawlled dryly, as sizzling ichor continued to be expelled from his chest. He could almost feel the auxiliary muscles of his chest cavity flexing as they pushed the last of the substance out and he had to fight not to gag at the reminder of his recent battle with the parasite.
Instead, he leaned into the Supirourity of his gifted Draconic Authority for all it was worth, making his inaction seem like unconcerned restraint in the face of something he did not consider a threat.
The Auctioneer tilted his head in Tilly’s direction, one actor acknowledging the work of another and answered loudly for all to hear, “Yes, occasionally, I am sad to admit, the children do become unruly, but please dear patron, do not let this color your view of our noble institution. Here is some small token of our gratitude for your continued forbearance.” The Auctioneer announced dramatically, waving as a chest the size of Tilly’s… chest appeared before him.
Tilly casually swiped his hand in the direction of the payment, and it disappeared without a sound which Tilly did his best to play off as a typical occurrence. He tried not to wince as the wound in his chest pulled painfully at the motion. Notable pain from anything but the most severe injuries had become fairly rare these days with his Endurance as high as it was. But Tilly didn’t have time to dwell on it as the Auctioneer bowed slightly before the heavily clothed figure folded in on itself and reappeared on the central stage.
“Now Powers and Representatives, if you will for-”
“Here, mate. I’ll walk you to your stair,” said a voice behind him. Tilly turned to find the tan elf in odd clothing standing next to Mochizuki, who confirmed his presence with a small nod. Tilly turned, barely showing any acknowledgment of their presence and outright ignoring the Auctioneer's grandstanding as he moved toward the archway with a controlled gait, trying not to reach up and paw at the intense itching that now accompanied the closing of his wound. He didn’t bother to look down at his chest, having felt the Draconic Emmesary Suit self-repair over his chest once the last of the Corruption was forced from the wound.
Tilly idly wondered just how many of his companions that asshole had given a similar treatment over the last few months. He maintained his act until they were fully within the cover of the archway before slouching and rubbing at his chest, “Thanks for your help…” He said, turning toward the Indiana Jones elf.
“No worries Mate. Name’s Fabian, I’m sure the shela will catch you up in a bit. I have to get back to my booth, Catch ya’ later.” He said, winking at Mochizuki before turning on his heels and jogging back the way he came, easily dancing between the last of the workers taking away the tables as if they had not just been fighting for their lives a few minutes before.
“You alright?” Tilly said, turning to Mochizuki, who was smoothing out her servant's garb.
“Yes, Jonathan Tillman. I am fine, and I think… perhaps, despite the unexpected nature of that encounter, we have come out ahead… “ she trailed off, looking after the retreating figure of the elf a few moments more, before turning abruptly and beginning to head up the stairs, “Come on. We can’t miss whatever they have up for bidding after the Cartographer’s Guild map.”
Tilly smiled to himself as he thought he spotted a slight coloration in the lapin’s cheeks. He hurried after her, scratching at his scabbed-over wound under the suit.
They made it through the door to their booth just as the Auctioneer was stowing away the recently sold map. Tilly missed the final amount but did note almost ta dozen flags drifting to the floor in defeat.
“I’m sure many of you are noting the increased tension on the plane. Such that beings are now risking much more than is prudent for some small chance at power” The Auctioneer mocked tonelessly, “So perhaps it would be in many of your best interest to invest in one of our next round of items, which will all share a distinct… military flavor.” They said as a pedestal rose up from the stage, bearing a diadem on it that sparkled brightly with precious gems.
“Here we have another Celestial-ranked item, the Soverieng’s Crown. If you have this item equipped when you claim another Faction’s Sovereign Crystal-” Tilly tried to listen… he did. But the itching on his chest was getting worse. So, he pulled up his notification log to see how much money he had received as compensation for the attack:
Commerce Guild System Sanctioned Notification - You have successfully deposited the equivalent of one point five million gold.
Tilly almost cussed out loud as he saw the amount the Auctioneer had so casually waved his way, and then did a double take as he saw the notification above it.
“What the F-”
Comments
Zachary Koffink
Great chapter! He survived the thing he was worried would happen! Supirourity should be Superiority
