The Flirtatious Elf and the Clueless Vagrant (4)
1754 Words
The next day.
Morning.
We're both up with the lark.
After that steamy scene last night (which to be honest, can be narrated in a sleazy tabloid that must not be named)...
“Good morning, Ruth.”
“Good morning to you too, Walter.”
“Wow, you sobered up pretty fast. Is this one of your fancy elf traits?”
“Nah. Some elves take a long time before their drunkenness disappears from their bodies.”
Neat. Humans and elves aren't much different after all, in many ways than one. Their shared long history is a testament to that.
“About last night, by the way...”
Uh-oh.
“D-did you ravish me while I was asleep, Walter?”
Ravish?
In the sense of having an intense kiss?
If that's so...
“Yes, Ruth. Will I ever lie to a client like you?”
“Uh... OH! Oh no!”
She turns away from me, feeling all flustered and embarrassed.
Dang. She's already reverted to being meek like nothing happened.
So much for her flirtatiousness.
For the next three hours, she maintains her flustered, embarrassed face.
Even when we take a bath and dress up separately.
Even when we eat breakfast together using the inn's breakfast room service.
Even when we check out of the inn and head out to another safe place, hopefully away from the epicenter of chaos, which I presume to be her own hometown.
“Come on, Ruth! Cut it with your 'oh, I'm so embarrassed' crap! That thing about giving you love and affection... it's clearly stated in the quest contract!”
“What-EVER, Walter! You've definitely crossed the line.”
Her tone of voice then shifts, as if turning 180 degrees in terms of mood.
“But at least you didn't... uh... how should I call it without sounding too lewd... inseminate me. I felt nothing bad down there when I woke up.”
“It's good that you're finally claiming responsibility for what you did to me last night. How should I call it... you got me carried away, yeah.”
“...Yeah.”
As we head out of Viwiv Yuq, we both agree to head west, towards Maradognan Pampas, a temperate grassland full of exotic wildlife.
And then...
I can hear something hostile, something dangerous.
She can also hear them farther away thanks to her elven ears.
Besides the mandatory quick footsteps...
I can also hear several quick short bursts.
Yes, those bursts are the sound of the hand cannon.
The same weapon the barrier criminal used.
And this time, there are multiple hand cannons firing at us.
Since the pampas are wide-open, we are basically moving targets for those hand cannon wielders.
Also, the wildlife here is protected by law, so these docile creatures mustn't be collateral damage in this shoot-fest.
We then decide to change course, from the pampas to an abandoned warehouse that lies on the road leading to the pampas.
There, we can find ample cover.
We take shelter behind a huge stack of wooden boxes inside the warehouse.
I ask her the vital question at this moment:
“Who are those guys chasing and opening fire at us?”
“Th-they're the agents of my supposed-to-be husband, Brajiravrakorune Gill. If you've guessed that I'm the victim of a forced arranged marriage, then you're today's winner.”
“I see.”
So those inner thoughts I've read during that deep kiss last night indeed hold water.
Behind the facade of the flirtatious elf lies a woman who is determined to free herself from the clutches of a potential abusive husband, as well as to find true love and affection from the man she will definitely choose herself.
She might have lost old friends in the process, but she can gain new ones thanks to my efforts.
And I will see this quest through, just as it has always been for the past five years of my adventuring life.
The sounds of hand cannon fire are getting closer and closer.
Looks like we're cornered.
But we still have to face them... in a fair battle.
We emerge from the stack of wooden boxes, showing ourselves to the hand cannon-equipped assailants.
As well as their leader, who also comes equipped with his own hand cannon and is dressed in the standard-issue elven cloak over a black-and-white tuxedo.
They all halt their fire as the head honcho opens his mouth.
“Good to see you again, Rutherfordine. My legally-wedded wife.”
“How many times I've told you I'm not your wife, Brajiravrakorune?! You're just forcing your hand on me because you want to preserve that old elven tradition of arranged marriage, even if a woman like me doesn't approve of it!”
“There goes those words again. How many times do I have to listen to that whining of yours? It's so sickening. And... my, my. You've brought that human adventurer with you, too. Alright, human adventurer. What's your name?”
“Walter Deschantes. That is all.”
“Very well. Even though the ammunition from my hand cannon doesn't have your name on it... I will still have your head on a silver platter for interfering with my plans!”
“You know what kind of silver should suit you best? Silver-plated handcuffs on your hands and silver-colored tape on your mouth.”
“Grr! You're getting on my nerves! Agents, after him! Also, you can capture her, but don't ever harm her!”
“Affirmative, sire!”
The shootout begins.
Sure, I have my weapon summoning skills, and she has her offensive spells; but for this battle, I'll be trying something different.
As agreed upon by each other, I'll try using the enemies' firepower against them... by simply grabbing their hand cannons.
As Ruth and I constantly dodge enemy fire, she finds an opening in between crates and tosses several Bagaslow scrolls near some enemies she sneaked up on.
As those mooks' motions are slowed down to a speed slower than that of a turtle, I have the opportunity to grab two of their hand cannons.
My way of saying thanks to them is to clothesline them in their necks, instantly knocking them out.
Alright. I've picked up a loaded hand cannon whenever I need it. Same for her.
Time for some firepower!
Using what I've learned in the art of the hand cannon at the Royal Academy's Center for Advanced Weaponry, I need to focus the sight and the barrel onto the targets, squeeze the trigger, resist the recoil as the ammo leaves the cannon at blistering speeds, and watch as the ammo hits the targets – all in a matter of seconds.
So far, I'm taking down six mooks.
As for Ruth...
Wow, she's a sharpshooter – even though she hasn't handled a hand cannon even once before in her life.
But to be fair, elves are traditionally gifted in archery, so the proficiency should carry over.
She's doing her part by knocking five mooks down so far.
As the exchange of firepower drags on...
We notice that our hand cannons don't fire anything at all.
Good thing hand cannons are kind of cheap and can be disposed of when they're out of ammo.
So, we need to do the deed again.
Slow some mooks down, take their hand cannons, knock them out, open fire at the rest, rinse and repeat.
While I'm trying to have my 12th mook take-down...
...one stray ammunition is out to hit my head.
Fortunately, Ruth senses the trajectory of the ammo, and promptly pulls me away from it.
Well, I got hit, regardless.
One stray strand of my hair, that is.
My skin was almost never touched.
Whew.
And here, I'm trying my best to ensure there are no head-shots or shots to the heart allowed on my part.
Miraculously enough, that hit is the only hit I took throughout this shootout.
And Ruth... she's got no hits whatsoever.
Regarding those facts, she says to me...
“Wow, you have nine lives.”
“Well... you have twice the said number of lives.”
Eventually, all thirty mooks are knocked out cold by our hands, leaving only the big cheese.
Says he, who still maintains his calm and smug mannerisms...
“So it's now two against one, huh? Still great odds for any elf.”
Ruth fires back...
“But not as great as the odds of you marrying me! Which is abysmally lower than zero!”
“Hmph. That filthy human taught you well in his... barbaric methods.”
I snap back.
“What's even more barbaric... is y–”
He tries to cut off my retort by opening fire at us.
Fortunately, I have Heisbilis to rely on.
As soon as I have read his movements that told me that he would open fire at us, I cast the hastening spell in a whispering way on myself, and then onto Ruth.
Within the next two seconds...
We dodge his trajectory, and I non-verbally signal her to deliver a coup de grace he will never forget for the rest of his life.
The coup de grace, by the way...
… is a good pointblank whack of her Elven Rod to his defenseless crotch.
Once the rod and the crotch connect...
“YYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”
His hand cannon is immediately dislodged from his hand as he tries to cover his now-destroyed family jewels.
With Heisbilis still in effect, I pull out a pair of silver-plated handcuffs and lock his hands down.
I also pull out a piece of silver-colored tape and stick it to his mouth.
As the effect of the hastening spell is over...
The battle is also over.
See? Silence is golden, but silver-colored tape is, well, silver.
After that ordeal, Ruth can only say the following words in a deadpan way reminiscent of victims of post-traumatic stress disorder, as several constabulary officers arrive at the scene and arrest Brajiravrakorune Gill and his minions.
“Warehouse. Smelly. Noisy. Too hot. Walter. Moron. Idiot.”
Yup, I can smell some sweat from her body as the battle obviously drained her.
I react to her...
“At least we've saved the animals, right?”
She loses that deadpan PTSD facade in a heartbeat, switching to a merry teasing mood.
“Eee-yuuup, that's right!”
We both laugh boisterously at her attempt at being the first-ever elven comedienne... sorta.
Man, that elf's really something.
1019-1832, “An Elf Needs Company”
Quest complete.
- Writer
