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THE GUILTY CROWN

Beautiful and brilliant sorcerer girls just can't have nice things, huh? All I wanted to do was swipe a little bit of bandit treasure. Now suddenly I'm being chased around by icky trolls, nasty demons, mean mummies, and brooding golem bad boys. And for what? A tiny little artifact that can bring about the end of the world? Hah! I'll show them there's a reason you don't cross Lina Inverse!

TurtleWithGlasses · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
4 Chs

Yes, I stole from bandits

So there I was, tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

 Why were they chasing me, you ask? Well, it's a long, boring story and besides, where I come from, it's not all that odd to find yourself being chased through the woods at top speed by a gang of murderous bandits. Especially if you're me.

 If you really want to know why I can tell you, but you don't need to know why. Actually, it's probably safer if you don't know. Look, it might ruin the story for you, okay? And you wouldn't want to ruin the story, would you? Of course, you wouldn't.

 So anyway, where were we before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes: I was tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

 Okay, I might've stolen something from the bandits. There. Are you happy now? It's possible that I sneaked into their little bandit camp and helped myself to the teensiest, tiniest bit of treasure, and it's conceivable that they were a tad peeved about that. And I suppose that might have had something to do with why they were chasing me. Maybe.

 It was barely a speck of pixie dust, I swear. And for that, they wanted to wring my neck! Sheesh. How stingy can you be? Not that I've ever heard of generous bandits, mind you. But still.

 Can we move on now?

 There I was, tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail. I had a good lead on them, but they were sprinting on masculine and murderous feet and I was—er—traipsing along on my ever-so-dainty lotus blossoms— What? My feet are dainty!—so I knew I wouldn't have the advantage for long.

 Not being big on precautionary measures, I screeched to a halt and peeked out from beneath my hood to evaluate my options. The trees on either side of the road were too dense for me to cut through. Even at midday, I wouldn't be able to see two feet in front of me.

 The bandits were closing in, their bloodlust hanging thick in the air. Even the birds had sensed the danger and stopped singing—I was trapped!

 Now, when I say road, bear in mind that the road we were running on was more like a path. It was as though some guy had hacked his way through the woods with a machete, figuring that hiking single file was a fine method of travel. Weeds grew high on either side, and starting a scuffle in them was not exactly appealing.

 Knowing the terrain better than I did, the enemy had been able to circle around and surround me. I wasn't too sure of the situation, so I decided it was best to mind my manners for the time being. Still, I had to say something to flush them out.

 "I know you're there," I shouted, biting my tongue to squelch the sarcasm.

 "Well, hello there, toots."

 Who's it gonna be this time? I wondered. A talking skeleton, maybe? A zombie? Nope. Who'da thunk your average eyepatch-wearing bald brute would have the nerve to call me "toots"? Go figure.

 Maybe he'd bolstered his confidence with his oh-so-scary outlaw outfit? Aware that any good look starts off with decent skincare, baldy had gone for a bronzy glow—by massaging his skin with what, judging by the smell, could only have been fetid pork fat. He sported a shirtless ensemble, accessorized with a scimitar, achieving a style that screamed, "I AM A FILTHY, DISGUSTING THUG!" And yet, despite his brute fashion, it seemed he was bent on talking me to death.

 "What ya did to us back there wasn't nice," he growled.

 No duh, genius.

 "And now, here ya are, all by yer lonesome and at our mercy." He licked his lips.

 Um… ew.

 "Aw now, ya can relax" he said, and slid into a smile so greasy that his cheeks actually made squishing sounds. "I don't wanna fight ya, toots. Ya look like a biter, ya do, and I don't fancy tussling with a gal who'd leave me marked."

 "Now, ya got yerself an impressive set of balls, I gotta say. Downright admirable. And yer technique's real professional-like—busting in and tossing magic around left and right, setting the place aflame, cooking the boss-man to a crisp, and then, once the ruckus was well under way, sneaking into the vault and making off with our loot. Speaking strictly as a professional, I gotta say I was impressed."

 Um, earlier I forgot to mention the parts about the fire and the leader-killing, didn't I? Sorry about that. I guess that had something to do with why they were chasing me, too. Oh well. No rest for the wicked, I always say.

 "Ya got us good. At first we figured we'd chase ya down and exact our revenge, in a fashion befitting our scurrilous reputation, but somewheres along the road I got to thinking maybe there's a better way, hmmm… ? Maybe the thing to do is to have ya join up with us, huh? Whaddaya say, toots?"

 Join up with you? I feel like I need to take a shower just for talking to you, cretin.

 "Ya'll have to return the booty, of course, but ya agree to join up with us and we'll consider yer killin' the boss to be water under the bridge."

 I acted like I was thinking it over.

 "It ain't a bad deal I'm offering ya," he continued. "It's what ya might call nonviolent conflict resolution, makin' the best out of a had situation. Give and take: We make use of yer talents, and ya got yerself a gang. Ya give us back our stolen treasure, and we let ya keep breathing. It ain't such a bad deal, see? Whaddaya say?" he asked, and his smile opened up like a wound.

 I see how it is, I thought. Until I knocked off their leader, baldy here had been the number-two guy. So really, I did him a favor. He doesn't want revenge; he just wants his treasure back and the addition of my special skills to his arsenal. He was probably sweet on me, too. Who could blame him? Unfortunately for him, I have a strict no-return policy where treasure is concerned, and I'm just not depraved enough to hook up with a band of thieves.

 Could you imagine waking up every morning to a guy like that asking you, "What's up, toots?" No, thank you. Ladies, where are the princes on white horses the storybooks promised us, huh? Couldn't there be just one among this sea of ill-mannered thugs?

 Yeah, I didn't think so. Oh well. A girl can dream.

 "Better answer fast, toots. Never know what kind of scum's roaming around this neck of the woods. Ain't no place to be a-napping."

 That guy sure was a talker. Bear in mind, I hadn't said a word since he'd started yammering. I stood there silently while he went on and on and on. And on. And on, some more. What is it with men loving to hear the sound of their own voice?

 Right about the time he started winding down with, "So, toots, how's about it?" I sensed another presence entering our sphere. Hmmm…

 "Not a chance," I growled in as low a voice as I could manage without straining, and I dug my heels in the ground to emphasize my point.

 "Why, ya little…" he snarled and he stopped, his mouth hanging open as his wee bandit brain struggled to simultaneously process anger and disappointment. Multitasking evidently wasn't his strong point, and the pressure caused him to turn bright red. Actual steam shot out of his ears, I think.

 "Ya little…" He tried again.

 Finally, he found the words he was searching for: "Ya little arrogant bitch."

Oh, bravo. I can see why it took you so long to come up with that one.

 "I made ya a generous offer and ya threw it back in my face! For that, we're gonna feed ya yer liver! Have at 'er, boys!"

 And with that, ten men stepped out of the forest and surrounded me. Ten.

 "Ten guys? That's it?" It just slipped out. I didn't want to be rude, but ten? C'mon. It was insulting. Oh sure, the ten guys puffed up their chests and made a show of how tough they were, which I suppose I appreciated, but really. Ten guys? It was as if they had no faith in me. Sad.

 "Oh now, this ain't all of us, toots. Our mates in the woods are aiming their razor-tipped arrows at ya right now. When I say the word—THWANNG! Yer a pincushion. Now, I'm gonna give ya one more chance to save yerself."

Amateurs! Those were obvious lies. As both a swordswoman and a sorceress, I have impeccable instincts for when I'm being aimed at. If I were in anyone else's crosshairs, I'd have known it. Those peabrains were way beneath my talents, and I was starting to get bored, when…

 "Shall I wait for you to call some friends, so we can have a fair fight?"

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