My Ex-Girlfriend is the Strongest Guild Master and I'm the Weakest! - Chapter 112: Dylak’s Revenge (Part 28) - Unfounded plan
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- Chapter 112: Dylak’s Revenge (Part 28) - Unfounded plan
Chapter 112: Dylak’s Revenge (Part 28) – Unfounded plan
The battle moved locations fast and indifferent towards anything surrounding it. Walls fell as if they were made of cardboard. Floors collapsed, raising thick clouds of dust. Every piece of furniture in their path was cut in half or smashed into smithereens. What just a minute ago seemed to be dead ends, were sporting new holes that let Clara cross through with ease.
Finding them should have been easy, for one just had to follow the path of destruction, and yet, Clara could not reach them. The amalgamation of a dozen mansions was full of labyrinthian corridors that produced a jarring echo anywhere she turned.
“But why am I so afraid of not making it in time?” she asked herself, checking the dungeon boss list. Count Dylak was still alive.
Despite her desperate pursuit, a conversation from a couple of days ago kept echoing in her mind.
* * *
After crossing through Annyford woods, the group decided to rest on its outskirts and have lunch.
Fabio restored the house to its original size for Anastasia to cook, Alan continued tweaking his recently crafted double-barrel shotgun, and Clara absently observed Amelia teach Bella a new fire spell.
“This is an anti-army spell, dear. It consumes a lot of mana and it’ll take a while to cast with your current level. So keep that in mind, got it?”
“Yes, master Amelia.”
“Let me show it to you before teaching you the runes,” the pyromancer said, stretching up her arm, as magic circles appeared above her. “Fire Crafting…”
Before Amelia could start the incantation, Clara recognized the spell right away. Nothing out of the ordinary. **There’re tons of more impressive fire spells, but for an apprentice, that’s okay, I guess.**
Clara yawned out loud, before peering at Alan. **I bet he’ll make a funny reaction.**
“Spitfire,” Amelia finished casting, releasing dozens of fireballs into the green fields.
As the ground shook, Alan sprang from his place. “T-TAKE COVER, TAKE COVER!”
“Bua-hahaha! You should see your face!” Clara laughed out loud, before her lips slowly closed. What was supposed to be a simple demonstration, something Clara would find boring any other day, turned into a bewildering scene. “What…?” she muttered, getting close to Amelia.
Behind the pyromancer stood a spectral being, hiding her face and entire body behind a black through-see veil.
“What is it, Clara?” Amelia asked, narrowing her eyes, but after following Clara’s gaze, she chuckled. “Oh. So you can see her, eh?”
Clara blinked repeatedly before replying. “‘See her’? So I’m not imagining things.”
“No, you’re not going crazy, my new fellow guilder. This…” Amelia glanced at the spirit for a second. “…entity, is my Anima.”
“Your…? But I thought your Unique Talent was not an Anima-type like Alan’s.”
“It’s not… Technically.” Amelia said softly, while tossing her hair behind her back. “In Alan’s case, he can’t do any of those fancy ‘tech’ skills if his Anima is not around. But in my case, I’m in full control of my Pyrokinetic Construction at all times.”
Amelia absently waved her hand, and the flames produced by her Spitfire spell turned into a large, black picnic table.
“Although Animas may look like mystical beings, they’re nothing more than glorified AI assistants,” Amelia continued, pointing at the metallic furniture. “Have a look at that. Although I had a vague idea of what form this table should have, Belphy here assisted me by running the calculations. The exact measures, the texture, its correct shape. It’s as if I had drawn a rough sketch of which kind of table I wanted in my mind, and Belphy perfected it.”
“Belphy,” Clara repeated, observing the silent, still spirit. If she looked closely, she could distinguish a feminine, slim silhouette behind the veil.
**And creepy-looking.**
“I can’t see a thing,” Alan said from his place.
“That’s because of your low level, mon chéri! Wait, now that I think about it, you spoke to Belphy once. Back in Unus, when I created a clone?”
“Oh, yeah! Amelia II! So was her real name Belphy?”
“Don’t think too hard about it. She was just the AI behind the clone’s autopilot.”
“Oh, okay! That’s cool. W-what’s ‘monchree’?”
“Belphy is short for Belphegoria, by the way,” Amelia said to Clara, ignoring Alan. “One of the three princesses of hell.” She sneered. “Well, according to her lore, anyway. I didn’t follow my father’s catholic beliefs that much, and I don’t think The Novus respects them either, so whatever, cool backstory. I formed a contract with her a year and a half ago, before coming to Eurola. That even granted me a title.”
Clara heard the story while observing the ghostly apparition and maintaining an awed expression on her face. She then turned to Amelia, shaking her head. “Wait. A ‘contract’, you say?”
“Yes.” Amelia shrugged. “Belphy used to be a boss, back in Fleurella.”
* * *
“ARGH! Why is that freaking memory haunting me?! Is that the answer I seek? Is that the only option?!” Clara shouted, running non-stop, until the floor below her cracked open, catching her legs.
She struggled to get out of the hole while feeling cuts in her thighs.
**I have nothing better… I have to try it.**
She bit her lower lip while casting Quick-Fix. That only stopped the bleeding, and did not restore her stamina, but helped her stand up once more, and allowed her to keep running through the maze-like, moving dungeon.