The Merchant of Tiqpa: The Bathrobe Knight's Sequel Page 31

  “I’ve only avoided the battle lines because our troops have always been capable of bringing victory and honor to the great Sun God without my help. If it were needed, I would be there in a moment,” the second, unknown voice defended himself.

  “Gentlemen, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Anthony said in his pompous-yet-polite manner, and Locke could hear the scraping of a chair against stone as he was likely standing up. “But, if you’ll kindly excuse me, I must go see what is going on.” Then, after a small pause, he added, “And have a word with my subordinate about manners. Not even knocking. What’s wrong with you? I could have you demoted for interrupting an important negotiation in such a fashion.”

  “I’m truly sorry, sir. It won’t happen again,” Eliza replied, continuing to kowtow toward the scum-ball.

  It infuriated Locke just to listen to it. How did I never see this side of him before he got me banned? This guy is a monster. Who the heck let him have a leading role in any guild, much less one as large as the Holy Alliance? Locke could feel his face heat up and was forced to struggle to keep his breathing quiet as the anger in his gut continued to build. Locke pulled out his sword as quietly as he could and waited for Anthony to round the door.

  As soon as he stepped into view, Bianca quietly shut the door behind him and Katherine’s whip lashed out to wrap around Anthony’s throat.

  “Should we gut him now to stop him from screaming, or drag him away first and then do it just in case?” Katherine’s wicked smile gave Locke the chills as she yanked the whip and pulled Anthony, who was in full armor, toward the floor.

  Anthony, to his credit, may have been caught off guard easily enough, but he didn’t truly go down without a fight. He instantly pulled out his sword and tried to cut the whip. Before his blade could even scratch the cord, however, Sampson was there with a downward slash of her axe. Despite being fully covered in plate armor, his arm was cut badly and pinned against the floor. At almost the same instant Sampson reacted, Sparky rammed her shield into his side and shoved the downed foe against the wall, effective pinning him and preventing him from moving.

  “Quiet, we don’t want them to suspect anything.” Locke cautioned, reminding them that too much noise might defeat their plan.

  Eliza, who had stood by watching as Anthony was dropped, unsheathed her own weapons and pulled them across his thighs, just above where they joined with his knees. The gurgle that escaped his throat despite the tightly-wrapped whip stood in for the shriek of agony Anthony would have let out had he been free. “Does this count as crippled?” she asked innocently.

  “Yeah, it does. Let’s get him away from the door now. I doubt he’s going to have much to say with that thing coiled around his neck, but I’d rather not take any chances.” Locke signaled for Katherine to pull him down the hall so that he wouldn’t be within earshot of the door.

  “You just love having your men on a leash, don’t you?” Bianca laughed at Katherine as she dragged her victim all the way to back the edge of the stairs with the group following behind. Once they were far enough away from the door, Katherine jerked the whip taut and pulled Anthony upright so that he was forced onto his knees.

  Does he recognize me? Locke’s old concern quickly surfaced when he noticed Anthony staring right at him, despite the fact he wasn’t one of the ones who had inflicted injury.

  “You’ll pay for this!” Anthony spat at Locke almost immediately after Katherine unwrapped the whip from around his neck. “You all won’t get away with this! You’re going to lose!”

  Locke felt the color draining out of his face under Anthony’s foul eyes. He knows. He knows who I am. I’m going to get banned. Again. He could feel the panic rising in his chest as he stared down at their captive.

  “I kind of liked him better when he wasn’t talking.” Sampson hefted her axe menacingly as if she were about to chop down on Anthony again.

  “Wait!” Anthony held up his injured arm as he cowered on the floor in front of them. “If you hit me again, I’ll have you all banned! You probably haven’t read the terms of service, but you’re not allowed to treat people like this!”

  Sampson hesitated, as did the rest of the group, as they looked around at each other.

  “Is he serious? Is that really a thing?” Reginald looked to the rest of the group.

  “I remember there being something about torture, but I don’t recall what qualified . . .” Bianca looked contemplative.

  “It’s there! Trust me! I read the entire terms of service and end user license agreement from front to back! I’ve already gotten four stupid kids banned because I knew the rules and they didn’t! You can’t keep hitting me!” Anthony’s voice was arrogant and assertive as he started trying to get back on his feet, confident the beating would be over.

  Hey, Locke! Me again! I know this is a very unorthodox and unscheduled message, but I assure you that so long as you don’t go and do something crazy like healing him just to keep hitting him without fully depleting his health bar, it won’t be flagged as torture. You can go ahead and hit him as much as you like. In fact, I recommend using a very weak wooden stick to slap him across the face once or twice. Call it a ‘bonus’ from me to him. In fact, I placed one in your inventory just for such an occasion. Go ahead. Have some fun. Consider this a super early Christmas bonus for all your hard work as a Minion of Ash.

  Locke laughed as he read the message and pulled out the stick. “So you got four kids banned, did you?” He couldn’t feel better about this turn of events. The fact that Anthony was so ridiculously self-assured that no one would hit him again, that he was safe, made it taste even sweeter. Locke took the stick, which Ash had named ‘Spoiled Brat Face-Spanking Stick of +5’ and readied it in his right hand.

  Anthony watched the stick as he adjusted himself on his mangled arm. Despite seeing what was about to happen, he continued his bragging. “Yeah. Even this morning, I got a guy banned for not joining the Holy Alliance. I’m already tempted to report you and have you all banned if you don’t lick boot and join up, too. That’s right! You all should sign up for the Holy Alliance, and if I’m feeling generous enough not to report you, I might give you a rank like ‘whelp’ or ‘sick dog.’ We’ll make a special one ju--”

  Anthony’s annoying tirade was cut off mid-speech by Locke’s Spoiled Brat Face-Spanking Stick of +5 slamming across his jaw and drawing out a weak agonized cry as he fell onto his back.

  Hey again! I just wanted to give you one quick reminder: Don’t use this stick outside of this scenario. I modified it to hurt a lot more than it should. You can thank me later for that. After this, you burn it like it was a spy message in a black and white cartoon. Now, go hit him a few more times for me, minion!

  P.S. This isn’t me taking sides. He just creeps me out. Even more than Gary.

  Don’t mind if I do. Locke’s grin couldn’t be removed as he struck Anthony two more times in the stomach with the gifted weapon.

  “Shy, what did I tell you about not torturing him?” Sparky intervened, putting her shield up between the two of them.

  “He was threatening to ban you all. I just wanted to make sure that if anyone was actually banned it would be me,” Locke lied. I just wanted to make sure he got hit again. Is that so bad? “See?” He struck Anthony once more right across the face to make sure the stick actually lived up to its name. “Now, if he does file a complaint, it will be with me, not you all.”

  Sparky’s ire was visible as she pushed Locke back a bit. “Don’t. Do. It. Again.” She enunciated every single word with extra force. “We are not like his kind. We do not kick a dog when it’s down or hit the helpless.”

  Locke didn’t want to stop. He wanted to keep striking Anthony as the lout crawled up into a sitting position on the floor where he had been lying, but Sparky’s adamant stance left him with the impression that even one more strike on the brat might result in several on him. “Fine, but if he starts threatening people again, I’m going to have a hard time holding back.”
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  “Easy, sis,” Tubal came over and put an arm around Sparky, pulling her in close from the side. “Shy was just trying to make sure he took the brunt of whatever punishment comes of this. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”

  “Ugh . . .” Anthony shot a look of disgust toward the pair. “Don’t do all that drama in front of me. It’s gross.” Anthony tried dusting himself off as he attempted to look dignified on the ground. “Why don’t you just tell me how much you want, and let’s get this over with.”

  “What?” Tubal and the others looked confused.

  “You obviously dragged me out here to demand something. I know your group. You’re one of the mercenary guilds that we paid scraps to in the last siege, right? So, you came here to get your fair shake after getting ripped off. Is that it? Just tell me how much gold you want so that we can be done with it.” Anthony cracked his neck and did his best to stand up, only to be pushed down again by Sampson.

  “I didn’t say you could go anywhere.” Sampson lifted her axe once again to reinforce the point.

  “Your petty gold will not sway our honor.” Sparky managed to sound even more vexed than she had before. Watching Locke hit Anthony several times with the Face-Spanking Stick of +5 had obviously put her on edge.

  “Well, how much gold are we talking about?” Reginald asked, only to be popped by Tubal. “What? If he’s going to pay us a lot, I’d be okay with it.”

  Locke thought for a minute. “Yeah, actually, how much money are you talking about?”

  “You’re not seriously considering helping him, are you?” Eliza’s typical look of disgust resurfaced as she aimed her dismal expression at Locke.

  “How about 10,000 gold? Is that enough? That could buy your puny lot, right?” Anthony answered.

  “Sure, hand it over, and we’ll let you be on your way.” Locke extended his hand. When Sparky was about to get in the way, Reginald stopped her and whispered something in her ear.

  “No, we do not sell our dignity so cheaply!” Sparky protested whatever Reginald was saying.

  “I don’t think we lose any dignity with this one. Just let him hand it over,” Tubal added, surprisingly taking Locke’s side.

  “There’s no way that I’m going to agree to this.” Eliza’s hands slipped back towards her swords’ hilts as she watched Anthony pull out the money and quickly attempt to finish the transaction.

  “There. You have your money. Can I go now?” Anthony asked as he stood up, only to be pushed back down by Locke.

  “Yes, you can. Just not right now. We’re going to need to have you wait a few minutes first. Like, say, fifteen?” Locke smiled ear to ear as he bagged the massive amount of gold.

  “Oh.” Sparky finally understood what was going on. She didn’t look happy, but she conceded. “I see then. Yes, we’ll take your petty offer, and you can leave when we’ve concluded our business with the White-Wings.”

  “That’s not what we agreed on!” Anthony yelled back.

  “We said that we’d let you go on your way, not when we’d let you go,” Locke retorted. “What are you going to do if we don’t let you go immediately? Ban us?”

  “Look, I’ll pay more! Just let me go right now!” Anthony was practically frantic. “What do you want? Real life money? Fine! Give me your Paypals, and I’ll transfer over fifty bucks. That’s more than the lot of you high school punks make working all day, isn’t it?”

  “And get us banned? Dude, you just bragged about that. Come on, you think we would really fall for that? Any idiot knows you that can’t receive real life money for in-game actions,” Reginald said, laughing at the squirming man on the ground.

  I didn’t. Locke frowned, realizing he was worse than ‘any idiot.’

  “Yeah, sorry, man. You’re stuck here for just ten or fifteen minutes. But hey, after that, you can leave if you want,” Tubal said. “After all, you already paid in advance.” He looked at Locke while he said this, a huge grin on his face.

  Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re going to want your cut, too. Locke wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about parting with the massive amount of gold he had just received, but he knew he had to split it fairly. To the group, this was already an epic success. Even if they all died in the fight with the White-Wings, they had just walked away with enough money to each buy a new weapon on par with one they might get from clearing a tough boss.

  “Okay, let’s go kill us some chickens.” Reginald enthusiastically started walking toward the double door.

  “Wait, who is going to watch over him?” Bianca pointed at their captive.

  “Oh, yeah . . .” Tubal said as the group paused and looked at the bruised-up prisoner.

  “I could do it.” Locke volunteered. He didn’t want to miss out on the main fight, but he instinctively knew he wouldn’t be as helpful as the others. They all had a role. They were all great fighters, and they all knew how to work as a team, but he, on the other hand, was nothing more than a newcomer with a crafting profession. Though, I did help out a lot in the last boss fights, he remembered, momentarily doubting his decision.

  “You don’t have to, Shy. I could wait back here if you want to make sure the group has a healer,” Bianca suggested.

  “No, go ahead. Just leave the door open. If things get hectic, I’ll come in as quickly as possible. If you’re worried about dying, just come in range, and I’ll heal you with whatever potions I have left,” Locke said making up his mind. That’s right. I can always help out if things get too rough.

  “Well, just make sure to kill him” --Katherine pointed at Anthony-- “if you do choose to join the fight.”

  “He paid us so that we’d let him go. We cannot, in good faith, go back on our word. Our word is our bond.” Sparky nixed the plan before it could even take proper shape.

  “Alright, well, here goes nothing.” Sampson lifted up her axe and confidently marched toward the door. When Sparky joined her, the two opened it together to reveal the inner chamber where the final fight would be held.

  Chapter 9

  Locke couldn’t see what was on the far side of the room, but he could tell that there was a glass platform extending out from the door, and from where he was, it appeared as if it was suspended over what appeared to be a pit of nothingness. Other than that, he couldn’t really make heads or tails of anything else in the room aside from the group that occupied the middle of the room. Three White-Wings were seated atop three stools, which were placed around a circular table, and each was decked out in military attire that seemed far fancier than anything they had passed by on their way through the city. Instead of just the plain leather armor that the White-Wing guards often wore, often white to match their wings, theirs was gold-trimmed leather armor with designs that were far too intricate for Locke to make out from where he was guarding Anthony at the end of the hall.

  “It seems the lesser races still suffer from a dearth of dignity . . . To foul our sanctuary with even more unwanted guests . . . This cannot be tolerated . . .” A White-Wing, who was set apart from the other two by his gleaming, golden plumage, stood up from his stool, and the other two followed suit.

  As soon as they stood up, the chairs and table slowly flew backward out of sight as if they were being drawn by some furniture-arranging magic or track-like mechanisms that Locke couldn’t see. Slowly, the three White-Wings walked toward the entrance of their sanctuary where Sampson and the rest of the gang were entering. The one who was obviously the leader stopped and got down on one knee, and the other two followed suit.

  “I agree,” one of the other two White-Wings spoke, “To so boldly enter the sanctuary of the Sun God without being invited is a disgrace that only death can remedy.

  “What are they doing?” Sampson asked. She and the rest of the group slowed their gait to match that of the White-Wings, almost halting to a complete stop as they watched the spectacle before them.

  “I don’t know, but I think you should probably stop them before they finish,” Reginald suggested.


  Before Sampson could reply, her question was answered. The room erupted with pillars of light that shot up from all corners of the room, creating a sort of bird cage large enough to fit several T-Rex inside.

  “That can’t be good,” Tubal said. Just then, he turned around to see a beam of light shoot out from one of the cylinders on the wall and incinerated part of the flesh on his arm. “Ahh!” he screamed as it tore through part of his left triceps.

  “F-- !!!” Bianca shouted the self-censored profanity as the same beam of light tore through her as well, leaving a hole slightly larger than a quarter in the middle of her left wing.

  Reginald immediately started casting, and Tubal pulled out a healing potion with his unhurt limb and started chugging. Sampson and Sparky charged full speed ahead at the kneeling White-Wings, weapons and shield raised as they ducked and jumped over two of the approaching light beams. Eliza was right behind them, following Sparky so closely that she almost looked like she was a shadow of the Dragon-Wing knight.

  Just as they were just about to collide with their targets, two large beams of light shot directly toward them. The beams were so large around that they would have left cannon-ball-sized holes in the abdomens of the two lead fighters, but Sparky immediately reacted by bring her shield around to block the attack so quickly that it looked like a silvery blur. Rather than striking Sparky and Sampson, who would have almost certainly been incinerated, one of the beams bounced off her shield, reflected back toward one of the White-Wings. It sliced through his shin, cleanly cutting off the leg he had been kneeling on. The whole thing happened so quickly the elite warrior held the same position for a moment, ignorant of the gruesome injury, before toppling forward in horror.