Side Quest 1 : Nat 1 at Gilt Coffer, part 3

Doing a quick check of what was needed for the mission to succeed: the money collected—halfway, but done; the beasts rescued—partially, but done; everyone alive at the end… unless the magical lizard’s hysteria is right and we’ve missed something. Surviving what appears to be an unknown Nightspawn, probably SS rank or higher? Still pending.

The creature roared at the sky. Its screech deafened us and caused Itzamune to collapse unconscious. The clang of the trident striking his coral-metal armor caught the monster’s attention. Its hollow sockets flickered with a sinister, hungry light. The ghostly eyes fixed on us, promising violence while the Moon of Tenebris bathed us in a chilling glow.

Lisian froze in fear at the sight of its terrible beaked mouth, lined with long rows of fangs made for rending flesh. Caneky was overwhelmed by the aura of raw predatory power it radiated, stepping back every time the unknown-ranked entity approached. Edna stood tense, gripping his daggers, clearly aware that even a single mistake could be fatal, but no one dared initiate an attack.

Of course, we hesitated. No one was sure what we were seeing—or not seeing. Was it really Lyra? The shadow’s resemblance to a dreadful owl didn't help settle our unease. And if it wasn’t her… what would she do?

“If a creature overpowers you, let it swallow you, then cut through the soft tissue from the inside to escape.” Yeah, I could totally imagine her saying something like that.

There was no time to waste. If it really was Lyra, we knew an attack could come at any moment; she was always too impatient.

The whimper of our depressed paladin distracted all five of us. Rubbing his neck from the headache, he looked up at us and smiled nervously.

“Sorry. I froze up, and from the spasm, I got shocked. What happened?” Itzamune asked innocently, then turned his head toward the overwhelming presence breathing behind him.

A shiver ran down his spine, his neck gills opened wide, and he nervously tried to grab his trident—until he noticed a peculiar sound: the creature’s grunt and the rustling feathers around its face as it extended its neck toward him.

“Lyra?” the merfolk asked, and the creature growled directly at him, showing its long beak with small fangs.

Itzamune was yanked away by Lisian’s roots, leaving a trail of dirt in the air. Before we could react, the claw quickly caught up and launched us into the sky.

That’s when you and I entered the story.

I can already hear Death playing our party’s requiem. The trumpets of glorious Luminaria will sound in our honor once we’re buried seven meters under. Let my epitaph say: “Now bring me the gossip, for I am the grave.” No, wait—better not visit me, I’ll come to you.

Even as a seductive voice calls, my life flashes before my eyes and my head feels light… Damn it! It looks so boring! I’d eat my hat if I had time to chew the leather.

Why did I even live!? I regret it all: fake smiles, distance, silence with family, not reconnecting with friends—sucks!

The voice grows stronger. If I could make a last wish… I’d like to see her one more time.

“HEY, ROOFTOP DIVA!” —Edna’s shout snapped me out of my thoughts. “Stop internal monologuing and help!” he demanded, pointing toward the dispersing fog that now revealed where we’d landed.

Our paladin had managed to dodge the claw. He waited for us on the field, standing atop a mountain of unconscious racetrack employees. NPCs are so lucky they can’t die.

As the blessed light of his Blessing reached us, Lisian cast a spell that made wild grass grow tall enough to cushion our fall. At first, we thought we were safe—but the impact shattered one of Edna’s explosive ink vials, blasting us in a 20-foot radius. Clearly, luck wasn’t smiling on us out of mercy… more like sadistic pleasure.

“Edna, are you okay?” I asked with the little sweetness my sore body could offer.

The artificer was on top of me, his chest pressed against my face, his hand on my ear.

“Ow, that really hurt,” he said while rubbing his head, finding traces of blood.

“You’re alive, that’s good. Now… I think your knife went through my leg,” I added, waiting for him to move off me.

“Dude, not the time for jokes,” he replied as he stood up. His eyes nearly popped out when he realized it wasn’t a joke.

“I’m serious, and you don’t believe me, handsome? What happened to our friendship?” I smiled, not wanting him to know how much it actually hurt.

“What the—?!” he screamed, seeing the dagger embedded in my leg.

“This looks really bad,” he said while searching his belt for a healing potion—without luck.

“Damn the day your dagger fell in love with me. Why aren’t you like that?”

“I see you still have enough energy to say dumb things. You’ll be fine,” he said as he applied a tourniquet to stop the necrotic venom from spreading further.

“Ugh… you’d better go collect the money. I hid my pouches behind the right door in the central hall,” I told him, trying to stand up—only to fall back on my tail.

“Are you serious? Right now?!” he yelled, as usual.

“Nothing we’ve done will work unless we complete all parts of the mission. We need the money to return it to the villagers and rescue the beasts from the nobles.”

“I think we’re already way too penalized on that part,” Edna replied as we watched the monster chasing after the beasts.

Lisian’s spell had not only softened our fall but also trapped the sleeping Nightspawns. The explosive trap sound must’ve woken them, and, finding themselves restrained, they became defenseless against the distorted entity’s vicious wrath. The ominous, shadow-wrapped creature—something like a zombified owlbear—rampaged through the racetrack, destroying everything as it hunted the others, showing no mercy and impossible to predict.

“Well, at least there’s still a race,” I muttered, right before getting smacked in the back of the head.

“Call Itzamune to heal your wounds while I get the money,” the fae said before running toward the building.

After finding the paladin, I realized he was in trouble as well. Trying to calm an unknown aberration you believe is your friend must be stressful; that’s likely why he hadn’t dared use his radiant attack. Nearby, Lisian looked exhausted—she had cast too many spells in too little time, and the wind wall currently holding the beast back might have been her last.

As for me, I focused on holding on until Lisian ran to my side. She helped purge the necrotic venom, but she could no longer heal me. Is this how I die? Unfortunately, no. Caneky ran up behind her, and with a groan, I saw him rummaging through his robe.

“Damn it… this is really bad,” grumbled the lizard as he pulled out a spell scroll. “Regen.”

The scroll disintegrated as the spell took effect, restoring part of my health. I stood up, yawned, and stretched, feeling okay again.

“That’ll be 50 silver. If Edna already drained you dry, I’ll open a tab.”

“Are you seriously charging me?”

“Do I look like a cleric?” the lizard replied, deadpan.

“No, but not like a thief either. That spell’s worth at most half.”

“Good thing you know math. Let me give you a quick intro to economics: supply and demand. You needed it, I had it, and neither of us could cast it.”

“Shut up and go help Itzamune,” Lisian muttered from the ground, panting.

“Well, looks like he’s got things under control,” Caneky commented, eyes closed, seeing through Quetza’s eyes. “Seems like it really is Lyra, that monster.”

“How is that possible?” I asked, reaching for my lute.

“Well, he’s scratching her back… like he always does when Lyra’s eaten too much. Even her tail feathers twitch.”

“No! I meant—how did Lyra become that creature? I didn’t doubt it was a Nightspawn, but I figured it was above SS rank.”

“I don’t even know—and I saw it,” Caneky answered, shaking his head.

“Caneky’s fog,” Lisian began to explain between gasps. “He opened the bottle, and when Lyra entered it… after a few metal clashes, the guards from Gilt Coffer came running out—with the monster chasing after them.”

By the end of the explanation, Edna returned, carrying sacks of money on his back.

“I can’t take this anymore! When does this mission end?!”

“No clue. We’ve got the money, but let’s not talk about saving the beasts…”

“Hey, Itzamune is calling us,” said our warlock as he stood up and offered a hand to the druid. “He’s on the verge of a breakdown.”

This had become somewhat normal by now. We were used to Itzamune having anxiety attacks or shutting down over trivial things: like thinking we’d die of dehydration (forgetting he can create water); or feeling bad about pushing away the tressym chewing on his fin (maybe it was just hungry); or letting himself get squashed by the Giant Hamster because “its tiny paws were too cute.” Or standing frozen in front of the King Rat because “he had little ones riding on his back—I can’t orphan them like this!”

Just thinking about it gave me a headache. But this time, the shark was legitimately scared.

“I’m afraid that if I cast Bless to dispel the shadows from her body… she’ll die.”

This was a real problem, something we hadn’t considered. The sun was already rising… and Lyra remained transformed into a Nightspawn.

The sun will rise soon, and it will kill her.