Chapter 34 A Broken Little Girl Playing at Being Powerful

Knights parted, and a man stepped forward.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and clad in armor. A massive claymore was strapped to his back. His face was hidden behind a helm. It was the same Commander I had seen in the blacksmith shop all those weeks ago.

He looked at Fiona with barely restrained hostility. Then his eyes flicked to the golem chasing after her, the Elite Iron Golem that had sent me flying. It burst through the wall; its stone pillar raised for another strike.

Commander didn't even glance at it. He raised his hand, and a bolt of energy shot from his palm, striking the golem square in the chest. The creature exploded, its metal body disintegrating into a shower of sparks and molten fragments.

Oh crap! One shot! He killed it in one shot! That thing was an elite monster of mid-level dungeon and had ton of HP, and he killed it like it was nothing. This guy is a real deal.

I used Appraisal.

Appraisal Failed 

I can't even see his stats? How strong is he?

"Fiona. I should have known I'd find you here."

Fiona turned to face him. A cold smile spread across her lips.

"Commander Dorian. Fancy meeting you here. I'm curious, what business does a noble of your standing have in a place like this, rubbing shoulders with common dungeon crawlers. I thought nobles had more dignified hobbies than dungeon crawling. I didn't expect you to get your hands dirty with the rest of us. What's the occasion? Bored of your noble duties?"

"My duties are none of your concern, you thieving witch."

"Witch? A thief? That's rich, coming from a man who's built his entire career on kidnapping helpless souls that come to our world and break them into mindless puppets."

 "Helpless? No. The otherworlders I take are weapons. Tools to be forged for the good of the kingdom. At least I put them to good use. Unlike you, who waste them in dungeon."

"Waste them? I don't waste them. I give them a chance. Your puppets don't even have that luxury. The only thing you give them is a broken mind."

Dorian lowered his gaze; his eyes fell on me.

 "And who might this be? He's wearing armor of the Darkly family. Ah, I see, he's with you, Fiona. That means, he is yet another otherworlder you stole! You stole another otherworlder from under my nose! You know the law! Otherworlders are to be handed over to the Knight Order. It's not a suggestion."

 "Oh? Is that so? And yet, I seem to recall that otherworlders have no legal rights in this kingdom. Which means they can't be 'handed over' to anyone, because they're not legally considered people."

"You damn witch, you know well what I mean."

I scrambled to my feet, reaching for my sword. 

"We need to stop them!"

Sir Compensatealot glanced back at me.

 "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, young one. Let them play. They'll tire themselves out soon enough. They just have some energy to burn, is all."

 "Play?! They're about to start a fight!"

 "Ah, they've been at this for years. They know each other by heart. It's like watching two old friends bicker over a game of cards."

"I know exactly what you mean, Dorian. You want me to hand him over so you can add him to your collection. Another mindless puppet to throw at whatever problem you're too cowardly to face yourself."

"Watch your tongue, Fiona! I am a Commander of the Knight Order, and you will show me respect!"

"And I'm stronger than you. We both know what that means. The only reason you haven't tried to take him by force is because you know you'd lose."

Dorian's hand shot back to his claymore.

 "You think I'm afraid of you? You think your magic scares me? I've seen you fight, Fiona. I've seen you struggle. I've seen you bleed."

"That was a long time ago. You've never seen me at my full strength, Dorian. You wouldn't survive it."

Dorian's eyes flicked to me, then back to her. 

"You know what I find most amusing, Fiona? You pretend to be so noble. You pretend to care about these otherworlder scums. But we both know the truth."

 He gestured at me with a cruel smile on his face. 

"You don't care about them. You just hate me. You take them because you know it hurts me. It's not about saving anyone. It's about winning a petty game you've been playing since you were a child."

"Oh Dorian, you think you know me? You don't know anything. You never did."

"I know you better than you think. I remember you when you were just a little girl, trailing after your father and mother. You were so bright. So full of potential. And look at you now. A slaver. A thief. A broken little girl playing at being powerful."

"Don't you dare talk about my parents." 

"Why not? It's the truth! They died in this very dungeon! Left you all alone to fend for yourself. And you did what any scared little girl would do, you turned to monsters. You became one."

"Monster? That's rich, coming from a man who's spent his life breaking souls. At least I—"

"At least you what?! At least you don't break them?! What do you call what you do to them? You take them from their homes, their families, everything they've ever known. You parade them around like trophies and throw them into a dungeon to fight for your amusement. And you have the nerve to call yourself the better person?"

"That's not...I'm different—"

"Are you? Look at him." He pointed at me, "He's wearing your father's armor. Is that what you tell yourself? That you're honoring his memory? That you're keeping his legacy alive? Your father would be ashamed of you. He was a man of honor. You're just a slaver with a pretty face and a story you tell yourself to feel better about what you've become. I wonder what he'd say if he could see you now."

Fiona stood frozen, her face pale, her hands trembling. For a moment, I thought I saw her tear up.

"He died protecting you, have you forgot that? And you turned his sacrifice into a mockery."

"Stop talking about them..." 

"You know what he'd say? He'd say he died for nothing. He'd say his daughter became the very thing he fought against. He'd say you become a monster—"

"I said stop talking!"

"Ah, that's it, isn't it? That's the truth you can't face. Your father died for nothing. And your mother, well, she died because of you as well. Or have you forgot about that too!"

I saw Fiona flinch.

"Don't... Don't you dare."

"Your mother was a powerful mage," Dorian continued, "One of the strongest I've ever seen. She could have been anything. She could have gone anywhere. But she stayed. She stayed because she loved you. And what did you do? You got her killed along your father! And it's all your fault!"

Fiona's face went pale.

"She spent her final moments trying to protect you. She threw herself in front of that monster because she couldn't bear to see you die. And you? You couldn't even save her. She died for you, and you did nothing. You just cried like a little girl you are!"

"That's not true! There was nothing I could—"

"There was plenty you could have done! You could have got out of the way! You could have been smarter! You could have been anything other than the pathetic, broken failure you are today!"

I looked at Fiona, she was trembling, her staff glowing with barely contained power, but she wasn't attacking. She was just standing there, taking everything Dorian threw at her.

Hey, what the hell is going on with Fiona? Why is she standing there taking all this crap from this fool? What happened to all that talk of her not losing to this guy? Easy win and all that good stuff?

I could see her eyes glisten with unshed tears. 

Is she holding back? Because of me? Am I in the way? Does she not want me to get caught as collateral? Oh crap. That must be it. I'm in the way!

I thought back to the iron golem, how Dorian's attack had melted through metal like it was nothing. I thought about the sheer power he had unleashed without even trying. And Fiona was supposed to be stronger than him. She had said so herself.

Imagine what would happen if both of them clashed for real. They could collapse a few floors. Maybe more. The ceiling could come down on all of us!

I looked at Fiona's face, at the way she was holding herself back, at the way her eyes kept flicking toward me, checking if I was safe.

Damn it, Fiona! You're protecting me? You're standing there, letting this clown tear you apart, because you're afraid of what might happen to me if you fight for real?!

I felt a surge of anger, not at her, but at myself. I was the reason she was hesitating. I was the reason she was letting him get away with saying those things.

Oh, hell no! I will not be the weak link!

I couldn't take it anymore. Fiona was standing there, her eyes glistening with tears, taking everything Dorian threw at her like she deserved it. Like she believed every cruel word he said.

"WHAT THE HELL, FIONA!"

My voice echoed through the cave. Fiona flinched, her head snapping toward me. Dorian's smug smile faltered, his eyes narrowing as he turned to look at me.

"Don't just stand there and take all that crap he throws at you! Kick this clown's ass already! Don't mind me! I'll be fine! Just stop holding back! Stop protecting me! I can take care of myself!"

Dorian laughed.

 "How touching. The slave defends his master. How noble of you, young man. But I'm afraid your faith in her is misplaced. She's not holding back because of you. She's holding back because she knows she can't beat me."

"Shut up, you overgrown tin can! You don't know anything about her!"

"Brave words for a creature who doesn't even have legal rights! Do you have any idea what I could do to you? What I've done to other otherworlders who spoke out of turn? You're nothing but trash. Garbage that got washed into our world because your own people couldn't stand to look at you anymore. A useless, worthless piece of—"

 I didn't see her move. One moment, Fiona was standing ten feet away, the next moment, she was in front of Dorian.

Her fist connected with his face, a devastating, bone-shattering punch that sent a shockwave through the cave that cracked the walls. The air cracked like thunder, and I felt the impact in my chest. Dorian's fancy helmet crumpled like paper, melting under the force of the blow, and his body shot backward like a cannonball.

He crashed through the far wall of the cave, sending rubble flying in all directions. The impact cratered deep into the stone, and Dorian's body was embedded in the rock like a nail driven into wood.