Chapter 29: Stress Relief

I remarked, “It worked.”

We both watched from the shadows as Stabs bolted out of the church, his footsteps echoing in the empty nave. From beneath the altar, Lydia emerged, brushing off her robes with a small, satisfied smile. “It took a bit of effort for me to cast that illusion,” she said.

“Do you think you can manage the next time?” I asked, already gauging her expression.

“I will be fine,” she replied with quiet confidence.

The idea had been simple enough. Lydia created an illusion of me, one I could physically interact with, allowing me to appear and converse with others as though I were actually there. This weekend, I would use it to address the entire gang, claim the boss’s seat, and announce new management. Testing the trick on Stabs was merely the first step.

“The illusion will be at a smaller scale next time, so I should manage,” she said, her tone suggesting more practicality than pride.

I still couldn’t help marveling at her craft. “It’s unbelievable you can reproduce how I look so perfectly, but… did you really have to play the bad cop?”

A faint blush colored her cheeks. “It wasn’t that hard… Hmm… what is a bad cop?”

“Never mind,” I said quickly. I had a habit of slipping Earth idioms into conversation, only to realize they didn’t translate here that well.

As impressive as her magic was, it wasn’t without limits. Her magic never ran dry, but larger, more intricate illusions wore her down. That thought had me considering how to pass the time until Sunday. Staying cooped up in the church wasn’t appealing. Ken still needed grooming, proper papers, and a library card before I could spend my days among the shelves. The city library was notoriously strict.

“Any advice for killing time?” I asked.

“I suggest visiting a dungeon to experiment with your abilities,” she said without hesitation.

“I can’t go far,” I reminded her. “Nira would summon me back. Sometimes she does it unconsciously if she’s distressed or lonely. I can only roam as far as the city limits.”

Lydia’s eyes brightened with another idea. “Ah, and here I was thinking of registering you as an adventurer with the help of my illusions. Underage adventuring is frowned upon, so you can’t take her with you. But… I have a solution.”

The so-called solution turned out to be unexpectedly strange. Before long, we were standing before Nira, and Lydia was making the request.

“A lock of your hair,” I explained.

Nira’s eyes widened, suspicion flickering in her gaze. She shifted her weight, lips pressing into a thin line, clearly troubled by the request.

The solution, according to Lydia, was deceptively simple, cut a lock of Nira’s hair and turn it into some kind of totem. Nira was already eyeing us with suspicion before the scissors even came out.

“I don’t want to go bald,” she protested, her tone half-pleading, half-accusing.

“It’s just a little,” Lydia assured her, holding up the scissors like they were harmless.

Nira looked at me next. “Dad?”

“Just a little…” I stalled, then tried to soften the blow. “Uuuh… think of it as helping Dad a great deal.”

That earned me a long, hesitant stare before she finally nodded. “Okay. I trust you, Dad.”

It didn’t make the moment any easier when Lydia snipped the small lock from the side of her head. The sound of the blades slicing through hair seemed louder than it should have been. Nira’s lip trembled before she burst into tears, clutching the spot like she’d just lost something far more important than a few strands.

By the time she ran off, she was already wailing about going bald, her voice echoing through the church. I was left staring after her, feeling like I had just participated in some kind of parental betrayal.

Lydia, on the other hand, was already working. She braided the lock into an intricate knot, the strands looped and woven in ways I couldn’t even follow. A thin silver string bound the center, glinting faintly in the light.

“So… it’s gonna work now?” I asked, watching the delicate braid turn into something that looked oddly ceremonial.

“We’ll see,” she replied, examining the totem like she was judging a piece of art. “There was no real magic involved in making this, except for what I read in superstition.”

That didn’t exactly inspire confidence. “So… how are we going to test this thing?”

She looked up at me, eyes glimmering with a mix of mischief and challenge. “How about we go on a stroll and find us a dungeon?”

“Any ideas?” I asked as we stood just outside the gates.

“Oh, I have some,” Lydia replied, her voice light but with that glint in her eyes that probably meant trouble. “There’s a low level undead dungeon in the city’s vicinity that was used for training aspiring adventurers.

“How about the children?” I pressed.

“We’ll only be gone for a day, and they can take care of themselves for that long. Moreover, you have your goons watching the place, right?”

Huh. So responsible.

“I have a feeling you just thought of something sarcastic,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

“You’re imagining it,” I replied smoothly.

We passed the toll gate without incident. I stayed invisible the entire time, a luxury of my ghostly state, while Lydia cloaked herself with her illusion magic. Once we were far enough down the beaten path, she let the spell drop. The ‘totem’ hung from her wrist like a bracelet, looking more like a fashionable trinket than anything superstitious. In her other hand, she carried a wooden staff, apparently one that enhanced her magical abilities.

“Am I imagining it, or are you actually excited?” I asked, watching the faint bounce in her steps.

“Huh? You are definitely imagining it.” She smiled anyway, which only made me more suspicious.

Lydia had been an adventurer before, so I figured I could trust her judgment. It wasn’t like I was in any real danger, given my condition, but she was still flesh and blood. Of course, maybe I was just overthinking.

“We’ve made quite a distance and you’re yet to be called back,” she said after a while.

“Yeah, that totem trick really worked.”

“What do you think about registering yourself as an adventurer?” she suggested.

I wasn’t particularly inclined to do it, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Leaving a ‘mark’ or some kind of proof I existed could be useful, something to give me a background. From what I’d seen, Enmar’s Adventurer Guild wasn’t exactly rigorous with their background checks. If I ever had to run off with Nira, I’d end up dragging Lydia along too, and her ability to project a ‘visual’ representation for me was invaluable. When we reached the next city, an adventurer identity would make traveling together far less suspicious. Then again, maybe I was just overthinking.

The road narrowed into a rocky trail, twisting into the hills until we came upon a cave mouth. Standing at the entrance was a lone skeleton, motionless but unmistakably upright. Its empty sockets fixed on us like it had been waiting. Creepy.

I found myself wondering how a creature without flesh could possibly move, much less fight. That question didn’t stay unanswered for long.

“SKRAAA~!”

The shriek cut through the air as it lunged at us with surprising speed. Its bony legs moved like a blur, reminding me of my less-than-proud days back when I had to dine and dash just to survive. I asked, “What’s the plan—” but never managed to finish, because Lydia suddenly darted forward.

With a sharp twist of her stance, she swung her staff in a wide arc and smacked the skeleton square in the skull. The clatter of bone on dirt was almost satisfying, though I couldn’t tell if it was more from the hit or from Lydia’s expression. The skull rolled, the body staggered, and just as it tried to rise, she struck again, harder this time.

“I swear,” Lydia growled between blows, “this week has been nothing but—” Crack! “—stress! The kids arguing, John breaking another cup, Lara almost burning the kitchen—” Thwack! “—and you—” Crack! “—being your usual smug self!”

I winced as each hit made the bones scatter further. The skeleton reached for its own head in a futile attempt to reattach it, but Lydia wasn’t having it.

“May you rest in pieces!” she snarled, slamming the ribcage into the dirt. Another swing. “Let the Silver Promise guide you—” crack “—to the afterlife!” One last blow made the skull roll away entirely, clattering against the rocks.

By the time she stopped, the thing was nothing but an unholy mess of scattered bones. She stood over it, chest heaving, then suddenly tilted her head back and screamed into the cave’s mouth. “AAAAAAH~!” The sound echoed far into the darkness.

I crossed my arms. “Feeling refreshed?”

She turned toward me, still breathing heavily but now smiling faintly. “Yes. Very refreshed.” She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and tightened her grip on the staff. “And don’t you ever think I’m just some damsel in distress. Do you understand? Even I’m capable of violence when I need to be.”

Yes, ma’am. I understand!