Chapter 100: Second Patrol, Part 3.

A moments respite was all we had before the fight continued. With a pull of the trigger, the shrill song of a piercing round sang its tune. Only to shatter helplessly on the monster’s hide. My knights did their best to waylay the stone monstrosity. Their dull swords bashed into its form, doing little beyond disrupting the gargoyle. Talia swept in and out, further adding to the confusion.

It was a dance of death. The gargoyle continued to move with a reptilian grace. It moved less like stone, and more like it was made of flowing black water. Each and every movement carried with it a predator’s superiority, a promise of death, carried by its gleaming ruby eyes and wicked claws. Each and every part of it promised a swift and brutal end.

Its eyes never left me, despite the gnats making hits and shots. Every time I dared to close, it would sweep or lunge, keeping me at bay. It moved too fast for me. Far too well despite its bulk and size would suggest.

I couldn’t get close. Even if I could see its movements, its attacks, I couldn’t quite react in time. Worse, we were doing fine, but really, nobody was doing any real damage. The wound I had made on the gargoyle’s chest was still bleeding, oozing black blood, but it was healing albeit slowly, aided by Talia’s efforts to widen them with her axe, further slowing its regeneration.

It was a war of attrition, and it was only a matter of time until something went wrong. Something had to change…

So, I did. I let the ice fully take hold. Freezing me over. Letting me sink deeper and deeper until I no longer felt like I was in control of my own body. Mechanically, clinically, I began to dissect the ongoing fight and extrapolate the best method of dealing with this monstrosity. The answer, was simple, but also, a gamble.

In a lull, a minor lull, after rebuffing the combined attacks of my knights and Talia, there was a chance. A small opening. A tiny one. I went for it, and my voice cracked out.

“TALIA!” A single shout, carrying with it a need for her to answer my summons. There was no room for hesitation. No room for doubt.

Hearing me, sensing me, the gargoyle shifted uncertainly for a brief moment. Its eyes flicked from me, to Talia, wondering if there was something.

Talia, did not fail me. With a shout, with the beating of drums, I felt something settle over me. My senses sharpened. The tang of sulfur made itself known over the frost. I could even taste the malignant magic permeating the creature before me, and hear the silver blade of my bayonet cry, baying for its blood.

Sensing my approach, realizing that something had happened, The gargoyle whirled around and swung at me with all it had. Completely ignoring everything else. In my vision, I could almost see images, flickers of its movements well before it even made them.

With calm steps, I avoided its claws, its head snapped shut where I had been not an instant prior. I danced, moved in and out, between blows and swings. The moment I had its measure, my blade flashed out. It sang as it sliced through the air, whirling and slicing through cursed flesh.

Each cut hissed and sizzled as if burned. Blood spurt out in gouts, as if attempting to quench an unseen fire. The wounds overall, were minor, however. With each injury, the gargoyle grew more irate, its swings faster, less coordinated. Anger blazing out from its being.

Still, it was being wounded. Slowly, surely and whenever it came too close, a timely intervention via knight or Talia would save me. I threw myself against the whims of fate. Throwing my entire body into a deadly dance, of which only one of us could leave. Trusting entirely in those supporting me to do their jobs.

As the gargoyle grew more enraged, as its hate bubbled and seethed, its wild uncoordinated movements suddenly came to a stop. Ending the macabre dance, or rather, it wasn’t just a total stop, but a shift, a calm before a coming storm.

Where only blind fury had been, something far more sinister had taken its place. A cold, calculating fury that trumped all emotion. The next few strikes came far swifter, each slice coming within a hair’s breadth of me. Cutting into my clothing or shaving off the ice covering my form.

I danced according to its tune, the tone shifted, the music picked up. All at once, it came. A final call, the peak, a tail burst through the noise and haze. Even with my new sight, I had to twist with all I had, the blade scored a wound on my side and punched into the earth. The blow put me off-balance, and with a mighty heave, the gargoyle twisted and tore its tail out of the ground, sending chunks of earth flying in the process. With a follow-through, its tail whistled and screamed as it hurtled right for me.

I let myself hit the ground in a roll. The tail went high. I righted myself, only for it to come back low.

Already, I could see. The tail would take out my legs and if I were to jump, the gargoyle would tear me to pieces. Over its shoulder, it looked at me with malice filled eyes, a grin that exposed its sharp teeth that reflected back my own frozen gaze.

I didn’t jump. I didn’t dodge. Instead, I swung my bayonet at the oncoming tail.

The gargoyle couldn’t quite react. Its tail hit the silver edge with a loud shluck and hiss. Like a searing hot knife slicing through meat. The now shortened appendage came up short, but the cut off portion maintained it momentum and weight. It cracked into my side. Rattling my body and core. Ice shook, quaked. Bones rattled and snapped.

Still, under the ice. I knew not pain. Knew not fear. Unbothered by the injury, I prepared myself for what came next.

The gargoyle reared out, its stump of a tail gushed black, viscous blood like I had struck oil. I charged. Ignoring the damage to my body, I shouted, my rifle braced at my side. With a single stamp, I shot myself forward like a bullet. The gargoyle tried to meet me head on, despite the pain of its now severed tail. Only to again be waylaid by those assisting me.

I crashed into its chest. My silver bayonet slid in with ease, the force of my charge was enough to have its feet leave the ground. For a moment, an instant, we soared. Just as quickly, it ended. The gargoyle crashed to the ground on its back, crumpling one of its wings against the unyielding earth.

It roared and cried as I retrieved my bayonet, claws came at me from all angles, my own silver blade met them head on, scoring wounds on its hands and arms, not without getting harmed myself. It bled, it screamed. The few serious strikes were redirected by the dedicated effort of those around me. With every passing second, I could feel the vast depths deepen. Bolstering my strength. Dragging me deeper into the abyss.

Then, as I cleaved off one of its arms, having been chopped into over and over, like an axe to a tree, it stilled. Its eyes flashed. The burgeoning power I felt bubbling up, like a volcano ready to burst, simmered.

Through the ice, I felt it. Like a hand breaching through the surface, pulling itself free. Disrupting the discordant melody.

A cry. A scream. Of danger.

I leapt off the gargoyle’s body. Quite literally throwing myself off the creature. Right into the grass. Not a moment later, the gargoyle ignited in fire. Gouts of fire, blistering hot, burst from its maw. It thrashed, writhed, spraying fire everywhere. Burning grass, trees, and rose bushes to naught but cinder.

We all hit the ground, tried to avoid the fire. It went on for what felt like an eternity before the intensity died. The gargoyle’s eyes dimmed, it still twitched and writhed.

Nobody moved. Even as it stilled. Even as its eyes slowly dimmed until they became dark, empty without any signs of life. None of us moved, until finally, a final crack resounded through the clearing. The sound of the gargoyle returning to stone.

At that very moment, we all collapsed. Lowered our heads, released the breaths we held. Even my knights fell to their knees. Their bodies were covered in cracks. Their forms slightly melted like wax in the sun. Talia was burnt, covered in cuts. Her weapon sporting numerous and plentiful scars and marks.

We all took a long moment to rest and collect ourselves. All of us wishing on some level that this was it, but… no, it couldn’t be that easy.

“The hell was that!?” Talia shouted, her voice hoarse. Her throat likely dry from the fire. I passed her a bottle of water I had, once frozen, now thawed by the ambient heat. She drank it greedily. Luckily, we had our supplies that I brought along. I had the foresight to leave it at the edge of the fight, so it was lightly scorched, but not entirely burnt, thankfully.

“A gargoyle, a bronze by the looks of it. Not just that, but I’ve been told constantly that silver is the natural enemy of evil entities. Honestly, I’ve been skeptical, but clearly, they weren’t wrong. I’m not sure we could have won if I didn’t have my bayonet.”

Talia gave me a look.

“No, that’s… that’s not at all what the problem is! You just ran into that fight, all without a uniform! Do you have a death wish!?”

“I figured we could handle it. At worst, I’d lose a limb or two, but those can be fixed at the hospital. And, are you really the one to complain? You should know how I fight, seeing as how we already fought.”

She worked her jaw for a moment.

“Look, it’s just, I’ve just come under your wing and seeing you throw yourself at an enemy like this, for what? Some cash? It bothers me.”

“Why?” I ask again. “Surely, your previous employer treated you like expendables, did they not?”

She didn’t reply.

“They had you sent out in waves, didn’t care for your well-being. They didn’t care about you, not one bit, so how does my life matter at all? Even if I were to die, Grim would likely take you in, even help you out. You really wouldn’t lose out at all.”

“Is that really what you think? That, just because I was considered expendable, that I’m a lesser magical girl, that I can’t comprehend the value of a life? Do you think I enjoyed seeing others around me sent to die? I never liked it, and honestly, I hated every moment of it!”

“But you feel no good will for your higher ups?”

“Hell no!” She cried, “And so far, working for you has been a world of difference. You bought me clothes, you gave me money. I can eat real food. Even if what you say is true, I don’t think that officer could ever set me up with a deal as good as this. So, please, at least value your life a little more.”

I sighed.

“Is that what you think?” I question. “That I don’t value my life?”

She doesn’t answer back. Not that I expected an answer, it was rhetorical.

“I’ve worked, a lot of jobs. Moved from place to place. Some good, some bad…” I pause… “Really bad.”

My words settle over the burnt clearing. The smell of burnt grass and ash fill the air. I took in a breath. It felt familiar, safe. Like it was burning my lungs.

“There was a time where I was operating under an assumed name. A new identity that I had forged through some contacts I met through, less than desirable means. With no work history, and a sketchy background, there wasn’t a lot of jobs I could take. Especially when I had no money after… a break up.”

Again, I paused.

“It was a manufacturing job. Only, the employer only hired criminals or people on the run. Unmentionables. People that nobody would notice missing or worse. The job itself was hell, in order to save money and boost efficiency, safety devices were stripped away. The machines worked at a rapid pace.”

I began to paint a picture with my words.

“Every day was hot, stifling hot. The sound of the machinery, the vibrations worked its way into your bones. Making your teeth rattle in your skull. Every small adjustment on the line required risk to life and limb. We had a high turnover rate. With people losing fingers and hands on the regular.”

I laughed.

“They even provided housing. A simple set of bunk beds in a cramped room. It always smelled of blood, oil, and sickness. There was always someone wounded, bleeding, dying. Even then, it didn’t matter. They worked. I worked. All because we had no other option, all because we had greater plans. None of them wanted to be in that factory, nobody wanted to have to risk their lives for a paltry wage.”

I could still remember them. Those men, how they’d laugh and joke. How even when someone died, they held true to their resolve, never breaking.

“Despite that, they had a reason to be there. A reason to keep pressing forward. A reason to reach for something, just out of reach. This, is no different. This patrol will provide me with much needed funds. Coins as well. And up to this point, it hasn’t become unsalvageable. Trust me when I say this Talia, if I truly believed we had no hope, I’d be the first to run. So, no, I am not suicidal. I’m just willing to do anything to achieve my goals.”

“And… just what are those goals?”

“To be at the top. The very top. In whatever form that takes.”

She stared at me, but… where before there had been concern, something new seemed to take place.

“Alright then.” She relented. “I’ll withhold my judgement for the time being. After all, it hasn’t even been a full week yet…” She sighs…

“But… Tell me, just how much is a life worth to you?”

I consider. The weight of a life. Perhaps, before coming here, I would have weighed it highly. However, since coming here, since killing my old boss, killing that magical girl…

“Not very much, apparently.” I say, with regret. “They say birds die for food, men for wealth. I always thought that was a bit cynical. Even when I was trying to climb up. I always thought that my own principles would stand the test of time. That I could somehow preserve who I was while throwing myself into the muck…”

A self-deprecating laugh left my lips.

“Truly, I was naïve.” I let those words settle and turned to her. “Now, I believe we have a few more to kill. Based on how this park is designed, we might have another three to handle.”

“Three, you say? Can we handle it?” She asked.

“Yes, easily. Give me the enhancement next time, I’ve already etched their motions into my mind. The next fight should be easier, and the ones after that should be trivial.”

But before that, my eyes fell on the downed gargoyle. A faint bronze light shimmered around their form. I extended my hand and the light flowed into my hand. Ripping out of the statue, in doing so, the gargoyle’s body began to break apart and shatter. Until only rubble remained.

As the energy finished coalescing in my palm. A coin came into being. A singular bronze coin.

“Almost feels anticlimactic.” I said wistfully. “I would have figured that gargoyle would be worth more than a single measly coin.”

Then again, how would I know?

As I looked at the coin in my hand, Talia went towards the rubble. She crouched down and began to sift through it.

“You looking for something?”

“Huh, yeah, I am.” She said distractedly. “Sometimes, when monsters die and coins are retrieved, they leave something behind. Usually a magically charged organ or item. It depends, but usually, it’s because the item in charge can handle the conversion or whatever.” That sounded vaguely familiar. Like someone had mentioned that before.

Still, I didn’t press further, instead I took the chance to look after my knights. Both were in bad shape. Already they were healing, but the new ice didn’t look good at all. Their weapons were cracked and breaking apart. One of their shields was slashed in half, with it slowly growing out, almost like the waxing of the moon.

As a test, I donated some of my own magic to the pair. Just a little bit, but even that was enough to speed up their recovery. Enough that I didn’t think they’d simply fall apart in the next engagement.

After that, just as I was ready to move on, Talia cried out.

“Found it!” She pulled something out of the pile, no, somethings. A of four… gemstones? She proceeded to wipe the rubble off them, to reveal a pair of rubies. Though, they looked oddly dull, dark.

“Rubies?” I question.

“Mm… Gemstones are fairly valuable. They can naturally absorb magical energy in the air, and they can store it. They typically rank silver due to their ability to store and conduct magical energy. Alternatively, they can be etched and made into single purpose artifacts or such. These must be how the gargoyle was able to spit out fire. The gemstones probably link to something in their construction, that allows them to store and unleash magical energy as an attack.”

There were four of them. One for each eye. Each was the size of a palm. Which, honestly…

“Just how valuable?” I ask, knowing that a gemstone of that size could be worth thousands, even tens of thousands if the cut was good.

“Like… a lot? I don’t know, but the magical community would pay a ton for them. Back, at the… fortress, we had a few magical girls capable of working with gemstones. They were treated surprisingly well, if you consider being worked constantly treated well. At least they weren’t treated as expendable.”

“Well, I suppose that just made this patrol all the more worth it, don’t you think?”

“Yeah… I suppose it does.” She says, her eyes focused solely on the rubies in her hands.

It was a good look on her. Not of greed, but of possibilities. Just one look at them had her lost in thought and eager. In a way that she hadn’t been up to this point.

I’d have to keep that in mind…