in which our heroes kill god to defy fate!!!!!!!

It was a very strange beast. It had the head of a wolf and the body of a man, taller and bulkier than Alpherson, wielding a blunt, wide blade.

Pebble had never seen a wolf-man before, for she hadn’t participated in the Hall sieges. However, she’d heard tales about them. The last of its kind should’ve died along with the god of wolves. “Funny,” Pebble mumbled, then louder: “Funny. I would’ve thought that if a villain attacked us, it’d be related to the Demon King, not….this.”

The wolf-man slammed its blade upon the ground, cracking it. Its tongue lolled out and its tail was wagging. Talk about mixed signals.

“Bye,” Topaz said.

“No! Ugh.” Pebble held out her branch. The wolf-man was “laughing” again. Strangely, its mouth wasn’t moving beyond it opening its jaws to the sky.

According to the plan, she was supposed to get hit and pretend to faint while the other two defeated Frell’s shadow, but… was this thing even Frell? Wasn’t he allergic to fur?

The moment Topaz turned to leave, the wolf hurled its weapon at such speed that Pebble was unable to fully dodge it. The blade grazing her shoulder was very much real, and so was the pain.

Had he… summoned…?

No, he wasn’t a summoner. He wasn’t an illusionist. He pet cats at the cost of putting himself out of commission for a week.

The blade caught Topaz’s cape, nailing him to the ground.

Real.

The wolf lunged at Pebble, clamping the branch between its jaws and snapping it.

Too real.

“Saint Pebble!” Alpherson lifted the boulder again.

“Wait!” Between Pebble and the wolf-man’s jaws was a cracked branch and their wrestling arms. “Frell,” she hissed, “You’re getting too excited. They’ll beat you up. I’m not going to protect y—”

She let the branch go and rolled to the side just in time to avoid its fangs. The problem was that it also had claws.

“Frell,” she said, to no avail. “Stop. Damn it, stop!”

She was now grabbing it by its snout and lower jaw as it licked her face. While annoyingly Frell-like, the lick was still… well, real.

Where had this thing come from, then? How was it even alive? How was she supposed to convince the bandits to retrieve the stone and seek a new path in life with this creature in the way?

Three things happened: a boulder slammed against the wolf-man’s side, knocking it aside and making it whimper. The puddles on its paws froze as soon as it hit the ground. The talisman on its back glowed with a very familiar handwriting.

Pebble rolled up, groaning. Yet another ruined outfit. “Help,” Topaz said. “Alpherson? Hi? Can you take this off without ripping my cape?”

Alpherson’s stance implied that he’d grapple the wolf-man as soon as it broke free, which did not bode well for either party. “I can, but you just tried to escape, therefore I won’t.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Use your magic to back us up,” Pebble told him. “Or you’ll end up like this poor, poor guy.”

Topaz turned to her, scowling. “Huh?”

“He didn’t drink the antidote in time.”

“...piss off.” But it sounded half-hearted. Despite himself, he glanced at the thrashing wolf-man, as if imagining such a fate.

The moment it broke free, Alpherson lunged at it. It squealed. As it was violently suplexed, a glowing, multicolored stone fell off the wolf-man…

“Saint,” Topaz said. “Can you free me? Please? I won’t run away. This cape is a memento from my dead sister.”

“Wasn’t she sick?”

“That’s the other one.”

“Then your third sister can sew a new one.” Pebble reached for the branch. At the other end of the cave, the wolf-man was running on all fours, yelping.

The wolf-man… or Frell?

Unless he’d suddenly become one of the best illusionists in history, he wouldn’t be able to pull something like that off. What for, anyway? That was not according to plan at all, unless the shadow of the Demon King meant a near-extinct animal.

To be fair, though, it wasn’t as though Frell would’ve known about Pebble’s scheme to redeem the bandits, either…

“Ah, fuck it.” Topaz tore the cape, then headed not for the wolf-man or the exit, but the stone that’d fallen off of the stupid dog. Upon picking it up, he bounced it a couple of times on his hand. “So… isn’t this what we need?”

The wolf-man’s yowl shook the cave. Alpherson pinned it in place. “Silence, beast! Don’t worry about me! Take the sacred stone and I’ll meet you back at the inn!”

The wolf-man was frantically shaking its head and staring at Pebble. After failing to break free again, it clamped its jaws at Alpherson’s general direction, who didn’t even flinch. So then it started yowling again.

Frell said he’d “create” the first sacred stone, which was to say taking a random stone and decorating it. Topaz had it now. Therefore… the quest was over…? Not the most climactic fight, but at this point, it was better to get this disaster over with. “Alpherson,” Pebble called out while slashing the air with her hand at Topaz’s direction the instant he turned to leave, “We have the sacred stone. There’s no need to keep fighting.”

Topaz sniffed the stone. “Paint,” he noted.

“N-no.”

“But I must: a beast like this should have died along with its master. This creature must be a puppet—that of the god of evil. Run ahead, friends. I shall put this corpse out of its misery again.”

“Awawawa!” Protested the wolf-man. “AROOO!”

“Silence, wretched beast!”

“If I were you, I’d save it,” Topaz said. “He might actually kill whoever turned into that thing.”

“Awa! Awawa!”

“See? It agrees.”

None of this made sense. Frell didn’t have that level of proficiency at illusion magic. His attempts at shapeshifting backfired unless they were turning-into-stone level basic. It wasn’t a… costume? Either way, it was better to be safe than sorry. She’d get answers later. “Alpherson, there’s a talisman on its back. Take it off.”

“AROOO!”

“Shut up,” she grumbled. The worst part was the sheer glee on Topaz’s expression—the exact same as when he’d tried to kill her (the first time).

And this was someone she’d hoped to redeem…

…but he was a part of the world, too.

“Found it!” Alpherson said. “Now… if you’d stop moving…!”

Stupidly, she hadn’t considered how much variables like these could affect the plan on a macro scale. Certain gods and mortals could join hands to save the world from insurmountable evil, sure, but what about the evil that was already there? What about those who didn’t care? Who’d forgotten to? Who couldn’t do so anymore?

“NROOO!” The wolf-man cried as Alpherson ripped the talisman off it. Instantly, fur flew in all directions. Gone was the yowling, replaced by very panicked, very human wheezing. Alpherson, startled, let Frell go, who frantically pushed the fur away. His other hand held the crown on his head.

Pebble ran a hand down her face.

“It can’t be… god of apples?” Alpherson looked around frantically. “What happened?!”

“Peb, t-the stone! Quick It’s the—” Frell sneezed. “—other one! The eighty one!”

The eighty-use teleporting stone.

He’d colored that fucking thing instead of—

He’d actually turned into—

WHY!?

When Pebble tried to retrieve the stone, however, Topaz held it above his head. When she jumped, he moved his arm to one side, then the other. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

As she reached for a hairpin, Alpherson said, “Quit playing around, fiend! The god of apples is desperately holding on as we speak. You must return the sacred stone before it’s too late.”

Frell instantly reached for his head. By that point, he was almost as red as his hair. “Quick… he’s ta—achooffhh—king over again…!”

No wonder he’d started thrashing when Topaz picked it up. Knowing Frell, he’d painted both the sacred and teleporting stone… because. Because he could. Whether he’d confused them or whether the wrong one had slipped out of his pocket (or fur?) didn’t matter anymore.

Topaz intercepted her hairpin strike with an ice blade.

Alpherson was fine. He’d be fine. He was part of the “greater good”.

Pebble could drag Topaz and his cronies to jail after this. “Justice” would be served. Days later, due to bribery, the guards would release them. They’d continue to do evil, blaming others for their own deeds, and nothing would change. Nothing.

Even if—if—Pebble and Frell managed to pull their scheme off, those like Topaz would not change. Why would they?

As Alpherson carried Frell away from the allergens and assisted him with an antihistaminic spell, Pebble skidded to Topaz’s left side—the one with the blind eye. “Funny,” he said as he dodged her half-hearted strike. “I’d never heard of this con before. What’s the end goal?”

“It’s not…”

“Oh, please.” His counter was half-hearted, too. “Play with money all you want, but don’t play with hope. You’re even scummier than I thought.”

“I’m not…”

“I knew it wasn’t real. I knew it. It was too good to be true.”

It was.

As she stopped attacking, so did he. Topaz “watched” her with his blind, scarred eye. When she said nothing, he tossed the stone at her. It hit the ground a moment later. The trashing and the yowling and sneering had ceased, and all that remained was never-ending rain.

Alpherson was quiet, too. From the corners of his eyes, he glanced at Frell, who could finally—barely—breathe again. So much for the Demon King taking over again.

Would the scheme have worked had Stormy attempted instead? Or Alpherson? Or anyone who could believe in it?

Even though no one stopped him this time, Topaz paused at the entrance anyway. The piece of cape that he’d lost earlier had long since flown out, for the blade that held it had turned into a stick.

Topaz whistled. Loudly. “Don’t bother,” he said as Pebble rushed for said item. “You might have a chance in an open field, but not when surrounded in a cave. I’d rather be a rat than a fraud.”

Yet he’d recognized the stone as a farce without discerning its true purpose. Of course—he wouldn’t have returned it otherwise. Pebble also picked it up.

What separated her from the greater good?

Why could she only pantomime hope?

Should she have stayed an illiterate miner instead of listening to the words of an idiot that had died for them?

As the squelch of the bandits’ footsteps joined the rain, Pebble approached her leftover allies, who sat near the doodle-battle. It made her heart sink, so she averted her gaze, gesturing at the entrance of the cave, then the stone, then at them. “I’ll be fine,” she said.

Frell swallowed. “Wait! Peb. I’m sorry. I can explain.”

“Don’t care. Hurry up and go.”

“This—witch tricked me.”

“Don’t care.”

“No, listen. Listen. She turned me into that thing. I wasn’t…” Frell trailed off as Pebble sucked her teeth. That, or he still chose to maintain the farce for whichever reason.

Alpherson, being rich and not scum like Topaz or Pebble, was able to recognize the teleporting stone as soon as she handed it to him. “We can solve this discussion over tea,” he said. “There is no need to sacrifice yourself.”

“There isn’t, but I want to.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Frell shook his head. “When she gets like that… no point. She’ll be fine.”

“She’ll be—we can’t just leave her behind!” Pebble and Frell took their fingers to their lips to shush him. Alpherson looked away. “Then I, too, shall stay.”

“No,” Pebble said.

“Yes. I refuse. I refuse!”

They shushed him again, but it didn’t matter anymore. The stone glowed as they began to teleport.

It was over. All of it.

The stone stopped glowing as they failed to teleport.

Never mind.

“Eh?” Frell blinked. Again, it glowed, and again it stopped. “...what’s…”

Topaz’s cronies poured into the cave.

“Oh. It ran out of uses.” (Translation: he’d already wasted them.)

Regardless, Frell was a god and a war criminal, Alpherson a schooled fighter, Pebble a fraud who beat things up for a living. They’d be fine.

The same couldn’t be said for the cronies, whose jaws hung open and whose eyes were glazed and distant. They did not sneer or talk. They couldn’t.