---D-Day+110, Dherus 17th, Monday Afternoon---

---Kashiwa Hall, Room 152---

*KRAK*

Glowing wards shatter and the locked heavy oak door crashes down as I drive my mana boosted boot into it.  Beyond, furniture wise, Room 152 is mostly empty.  The table that was in the center and used for Isekai ER?  Gone.  Moved to the Sayo Clinic a while ago.

Those slate chalkboards covered with circles and scribbles are still here though.  Lining three of the off yellow limestone walls.  Clear evenly spaced square windows dot the fourth.  The multi-colored spiral for mana cultivation sessions is also still drawn across the white and gray marble floor.

The only other furnishings that remain are some wood stools scattered along the walls.

Unlike the other open lab style classrooms on Kashiwa Hall’s second floor.  Room 152 had its slim storage room converted into an entry room.  Now used as a checkpoint to verify identities before being allowed into the lab itself.  Which has had its normal two entryways walled up.

Helps keep research into my [Recovery Magic] and [Half-Deads] secure. 

However, when I opened the hallway door today?  The little room is empty.  No blackhart knights.  No maids militant.  Nobody.

Got a bad feeling about this.

The thick door to the lab itself?  Locked.  Fortunately, found a spare key.  My boot.  And behind door number two?  People.  But not people I want to see.

First, some random boys.  At least a dozen, crowding the other end of the room.  All in the dark jackets and pants of student uniforms.  Most don’t have lanyards.  Meaning they are first years.

Most also have the Lustonian pattern for their short left shoulder half capes.  Red, blue, and white tartan.

Each has a sword on their hip.  Several have drawn them and turned my way.  The rest?  Completely ignoring me.  Facing something on the floor along the north wall, but physically blocked by them from my sight.

Second, are a few girls.  Standing together, half way down the east wall to my right.  Otaku girl, Sonja Almgren, is with them.  The daughter of a duke who asked me to take her virginity.  I figure to get back at her fiance for constantly cheating on her.

Below short dark jackets and above knee length hose, all of their skirts are Lustonian colors.  The lack of tassels shows they are first years too.

And, except for Sonja, they look thrilled.  Bloodthirsty even.  Like pagans in the stands of a coliseum.  Watching lions about to eat another christian.

Sonja, on the other hand, appears broken.  Has that thousand yard stare.  Staring at the boys too but, her grey eyes are dead.  The lights are on but nobody’s home.

The last actor in this soap opera is, no surprise, the lich bitch.  Magdalen Bertheau, Stormgarde’s new Lecturer for Umbra [Dark School].  Halfway down the western windows to my left.

She’s in the teacher’s uniform, dark sleeveless robe over a dark jacket, hose, and longer skirt.  Her voluptuous body certainly fills it out well.

Blue eyes locked onto me as soon as the door came down and she’s got the smirkiest smirk that ever did smirk.  Like everything is proceeding exactly as she has foreseen.

Standing next to her is, what the fuck?

Drabek?

My death knight captain is ignoring me.  Watching the posse of boys with no expression on his face.  Well, duh, of course there’s no expression.  He's got no face.  Just a skull.

Why can’t I feel you?

Should be able to tell where my armored skeleton lord is at all times.  As his creator, he is linked to me.  Yeah, nowhere near as tight as with my living shadows.  But should still be there.  A sort of faint tether.

In practice, with thousands of undead, I have to focus on a particular minion to actually sense them.  After all, I’m not a bald guy in a wheelchair who can peek on his well endowed female students bathing, dressing, undressing and knitting exciting underwear, whenever he wants too.

I’ve got to do it the way God intended.  With a ladder, looking through their bedroom window.

But, even concentrating?  There’s no connection.  Which means…

It's a trap.

Seriously, these happen so often I should get frequent flyer miles.  Free x-wing with your tenth death star.

Shit, I’m only here because I got an alert from him.  It's not telepathy, but I could feel from him that someone important to me was in danger.  Which was why I sent him ahead in the first place.  To protect my vips.

Magy the Lich must be interfering somehow.

Of course it wasn’t smart to hop on Frazur and come flying to the rescue alone.  But all my ladies have just been through an actual battle.  They need time to recover.  Physically and emotionally.

Guarded by hundreds of undead and golems?  Is the safest place for them right now.

Hell, even Frazur is looking pretty raggedy.  So he got popped back into my mindscape to rest more as soon as we landed.

And it's not like there weren’t other warning signs of a traparino.  The combat maid waiting where I landed, saying I was “expected” in Room 152?  Pretty big fucking flag too.

Lighting in the room is dimmed by the cloudy skies outside.  Making colors look a bit washed out.  None of the wall lamps have been lit.

“Jon!”

A girl screams my name from within the pack of boys as lich bitch curtsies to me.  About to use [Shadow Sight] when-

“Welcome, Viscount Barton.”

Magy’s words must have been a signal as the boys part like Moses and the Red Sea.  Revealing two young women backed up against the far wall.

Milti and Lizzy, Miltinnia Alnus and Helena Lehne, are on their knees clutching each other.  Well, Lizzy is on her knees.  Everything beneath Milti’s thighs was amputated after getting run over by a nobleman's carriage.

Don’t see Milti’s wheelchair anywhere.  Must have been carried or dragged here.

Both look roughed up.  Uniforms torn.  Bruises and scratches mar their skin.  See a couple burns too.  Their faces dirty with snot and tears.

Some of the bullies are damaged too.  Guess the girls put up a fight.

With the parting of the posse sea I recognize the leader.  Standing between me and the damsels in distress.

Prince douche, Conrad Vahlberg, a capture target of the weird otome game like scenario Lizzy was transmigrated into.  Otome girl apparently being the heroine and Sonja, douche’s fiance, being the villainess.

Peacock looks like he was in the middle of taking his pants off.  They are unbuttoned, but still held up as he turns to me.  A smile lights his smug face.

“There you are, peasant.  You have quite the gall.  Making a hunter wait to claim his kill.  We had given up on waiting for the guilty party.”

Temper flares but I smother it.  These girls aren’t in my harem.  Haven't even fucked them.  But Milti is Juri's half-dead living, uh, half and Lizzy is Hitomi’s bestie.  So I’m going to murder this douche anyway.  Just because I fucking feel like it.

[Super Senses] shows that Lizzy and Milti haven’t been raped yet.  Well, Milti is still a virgin.  Lizzy on the other hand…

Cross my arms, showing off the superswords on my hips.  Peacock's posse backs up and the rest draw their blades.

No matter how arrogant?  They know I've killed a duke and a professor.  So whoever they are the son of?  Whatever they are the heir too?  Means less than nothing to me.

Feel several swords being fed mana.  Activating their aspects.  A few cast body magic.  Buffing themselves.  Some even pull out components.  Getting ready to sling spells.

Hear Milti whisper, "Knew you would come."

Stare down the bullies.

“Peasant?  Guilty?”  My looks could kill glare.  “This is my house.  Here?  I am the judge, jury, and executioner.  I say who’s guilty.  Not some prince prick from up north.”

Actually not sure about that judge bit.  Do they even have juries here?  Fuck it, I’ll just roll with it.  Conrad’s face turns purple.

“No!  I am Prince Conrad Vahlberg!  Sole heir to the throne of Lustonia!”  Points at me.  “You?!  You are just a varlskif!  A thief!  Here to meddle in a world that is not yours!”  Pulls up and buttons his pants.  “Yet we know how to deal with you.”  Draws his rapier and aims it at Lizzy.  “After all, I have trapped and tamed varlskif before.”

Lizzy snaps back to reality and gapes at prince douche.

“W-wh-wha…?”

Fuck, my monologue detector is going off.

Conrad looks down at Lizzy. 

“Who do you think set those wolves on you?  Very difficult to train beasts only to wound.  And you should be grateful.  I made sure everything was perfect."

Counts with his fingers.

"The year before leaving for school.  Unconsummated relationship with distant fiance.  Several handsome male friends, loyal but not too loyal, of similar age.  A mysterious threat to the kingdom.  And finally, a young minor noble has a near death experience.”

Waves the sword around a little.  

“Oh, I used a few bolts.  Everyone misses sometimes.”  Sad face.  “Some of those ladies were quite cute too.”  Happy face.  “Then, with you on the edge of death.  A local surge and mana burn without magic.  The signs of a varlskif’s birth!”

Mother.  Fucker!  I'm putting all this work into stopping another summoning and this prince charming reject does it with some dog training and a sacrificial lamb?

Fuck!

Lizzy seems even more shocked than me.

“B-bu…  Y-you said…”

Peacock turns my way.

Shit, monologue part two incoming.  Take cover!

“Did you know this thing actually apologized to me?  The audacity!  Spread her legs for me before she could even walk again.  And has been my always ready to play toy ever since!”

Presses the tip of his rapier against the stunned Lizzy’s cheek.

“Then as soon as another varlskif appears?  Believes she can leave me?  Me!  Hahaha!”  

Douche laughs like he’s heard the funniest joke ever.  Then turns serious and faces Lizzy again.

“Little Helena, when have I ever given up a trophy?”

…

So that’s what complete humiliation looks like.

Lizzy looks like her internet browsing history just got posted on facebook.  All of it.  Eyes swim and the color has drained from her face.  Lips move but she's unable to say much.

“J-jon… I… I…”

But prince doesn’t know when to shut up?  Doesn't shut up.

“Was insulting when one of my trophies stood with your trash during that pathetic ceremony.  Disgraceful.  Then had the cheek to say she found someone else?  Leaving the school?”

Shakes his head.

“What a blessing to have Professor Bertheau ready to comfort me.”  Lewd laughter from his posse.  “Even had a room available to ‘educate’ my errant toy in.”

Ew…

“Dude, you fucked a corpse?”

“And once we put you in your place?  I will claim each of your women.  Let you watch as they beg-”  Peacock’s peabrain catches up.  “-what did you say?”

Start walking towards him as I point at Magy and channel my inner John Cleese.

“That you fucked a corpse.  That ho’s bleeding demised.  She’s not pining for your prick.  She’s passed on.  That ho is no more.  She has ceased to be.  Expired and gone to see her maker.  That is a late ho!”  

Magy’s smile begins to get inhumanly large as I stop just a step away from the posse.

“She’s a stiff.  Bereft of life.  She rests in peace.  If you hadn’t been nailing her pussy, she’d be pushing up daisies.  She’s run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.  She is an ex ho!”

Lich bitch licks her lips.  This time the tongue isn’t pink and red.  It's green, brown, and reeks like rotting fish.  Unnaturally long and licking every part of thin lips that now stretch from ear to ear.

She opens her mouth to speak but is beaten to the punch by Lizzy.  A cackling laugh comes from behind peacock.  Those green eyes now have a crazy gleam.

“Hahahaha!  Blimey.”  She grabs her head with both hands.  Pulling her hair.  “Parrot.  The fucking parrot!”

Conrad, not yet believing his eyes, whips around to face the unhinged Lizzy.  Who's doing her best to laugh maniacally and bawl inconsolably at the same time.

*ahem*

Prince douche spins back around at the sound, sees Magy again, and recoils.  Over the last few moments the full figured dark magic teacher’s body has deflated.  Shrivelled.

The teacher's uniform now hangs loosely.  And she’s become more mummy than milf.  The voice that comes out is dry.  Dusty.

“Whatever is the matter?  My sweet tender prince.”  Bones pop as her head tilts so far that it would break her neck.  If she was alive.  “You've been loving these old bones for days now.”  The mummy winks.  “Quite a few of you have.”

Arid laughter.  Reminds me of the crypt keeper.  Also starts rubbing herself, suggestively.

*blegh* *cough* *blerh* *cough* *blagh* 

The sight, sound, and smell, is too much for the bullies.  Especially for the ones who, hehe, “boned” her.  Over half the posse begins puking their guts out.

Well I'm not going to let a golden opportunity pass me by.

*zkraaak* *furoozh*

Sanctity and Tormentor spring out of their sheaths.  Into hands that are already moving through [Storm of Steel] forms.

*zhing* *slich* *zhulch* *kang*

“Eeyah!” “Spare me!” “Aiyee!” “Nooo!”

With blade, flame, and volt, the aristobrats fall.  Lordlings harvested like wheat before a scythe.  Blood sprays and body parts fly.  Staining the northern end of the room a dark red.  The oder trifecta returns, joined by the scent of cooked flesh.

Hehe.  Fucking a lich.  Bet that brings a whole new meaning to the phrase, crotch rot.

Seriously though, get tested.

The vomiting and heaving Conrad can barely stay standing.  Only able to watch in horror as he gets showered in the blood and gore of his cronies.  The savagery and brutality further overwhelming his senses.

“Y-you…  Nooo…  No no no…”  Spits someone else's blood out of his mouth.  “These noble men…  D-do you have any idea what you have done!”

“Don’t care.”

*ting* *shunk*

Knock his blade aside with Sanctity and drive Tormentor through the stomach.  Pinning peacock to the blackboard behind.  Beside him, the similarly sprayed Milti and Lizzy can only dumbly stare at the scene.  Then Lizzy begins throwing up too.

Prince douche grimaces in pain but still seems detached.  Confused.  Can't quite believe what’s happened.  He fumbles with the steel in his gullet.  Trying to pull it out.

“No…  I…  I am P-prince Conrad.  A prince does not lose.  A prince wins!  [Solari Ca-]” *slinch* “-ack!”

Whatever incantation peacock was trying to say?  Gets interrupted by Sanctity piercing through his throat and into the wall behind.

Weakening arms move from struggling with the sword sticking out of his belly.  To clumsily grasping at the rapier in his throat.

Can feel a magic ward and item going off.  He is royalty of course.  They can afford that sort of thing.  Probably designed to save his life.  A barrier perhaps?  Emergency heal maybe?

But they both fail to go off?

[Super Senses] shows the spells trying to trigger, repeatedly.  But failing every time.  Can actually see the patterns.  Impressive but, they've been altered.  Looping?  Looks like…

“Sabotage.”

Turn from the bleeding out heir to the Lustonian throne and face Magy with an inquiring eyebrow.  The lich bitch curtsies again.

“Forgive me, Viscount Barton.”  Waves dismissively at the douche.  “I have plans for his kingdom.  Plans that require there be no heir.”

The too wide smile becomes a too wide frown.

“Days of rutting, the living can be so energetic, provided many chances to poison them.  Weaken them.  And ‘alter’ his safeguards.” *crack* “Well, most of them.”

Lich bitch looks past my shoulder as I feel a short sharp spike of mana behind me.  Prepare to defend myself but the surge passes by.  Heading… north?

Shit.  A fucking seal.

Magy giggles and curtsies again.

“Thank you for your assistance, Lord Jon.”

Let me guess.  Like gramps found out I cashed Little Li’s v-card.  King whatshisname will now know I iced his boy.

Great…

“Did your ‘plans’ also require stealing my undead?”

Lich bitch covers her mouth with an emaciated hand.

“Oh my, did I upset you?”  That too wide smile.  “While you have a lot of talent, Lord Jon?  You have no skill.”  No shit, Sherlock.  “And a mortal?  Ha!  Made usurping your mark, with my own, a simple task.”

Uh… mark?

“And you think I’ll let you get away with it.”

Her head tilts too far over again.

“Well, as you so strangely proclaimed, I am dead.  And, unlike you, not mortal.”  She taps a dessicated finger on her chin.  “Still, stealing is such a poor practice.”  Nods to herself.  “So I will purchase them.”

“Purchase?  How?”

The mummy professor winks at me.

“With information of course.  Something you seek to know quite desperately.  Interested?”

Decline to reply.  

“Hmph!  Mister is no fun.”  Rolls her eyes.  “Fine, now, how did it go?  Oh, yes.” *ahem* “And so the children turned on the father.  Wounding him in both body and heart.  Yet the father did not fall.  He fled.  And sought succor among his enemies, the dragon kings.  Yet instead of welcome?  He found prison.  Condemned to  suffer for eternity.  Where no mortal nor god could reach him.”

Still just stare at her.  

“Geesh, how thick can you be?”  Facepalms.  “It means look in Luyan for the allfather’s tomb.”

I sigh.

“Meh…  Was heading there anyway.  So…  Going to kill you anyway.”

*chang* *ching*

My superswords rip out of prince douche, letting him fall to the ground, and soar into my hands.  Causing Magy to click her rotting tongue.

“Tsk.  Swordmages are so unfair.”  Emaciated hands on her hips.  “Drabek, be a dear and kill-” *shulch* “-him?”

The business end of my death knight’s greatsword sprouts out from lich bitch’s chest.  Covered in a thick syrupy green fluid.  It's Magy’s turn to look bewildered.

“B-but… The mark…”

Hear my first death knight’s voiceless voice as my connection to him and a hundred other undead is suddenly reestablished.

~Arrogant heretic.  What does a god need for such things?~  Twists the blade.  Causing more green fluid to spill.  ~The mark you replaced was not His, but ours.~  Smoke begins rising from the wound.  ~A mark we made to show our devotion, to Him.~

Magy stares at the sword.  Then raises her withered face to look at me.  She’s not smiling now.

“I appear to have… miscalculated.”

*vrmm*

“What have you done?!”

Room 152 fills with a heavy mana induced pressure as the guest star makes his cameo appearance.

Yep, its lamer saruman, Tharick Habriel, the Rector of Stormgarde Academy.  And he’s upset.  But seems completely nonplussed over the big sword impaling his latest new dark magic instructor.

“Magdalen!  Explain this!”  This is the most emotion I’ve seen on his face.  Like ever.  “How could you let the Vahlberg prince die?!”  We all just stare at him.  “Dammit creature.  Answer me!”

The mummified lecturer eyes him and coughs up some nasty smelling goop.

“Oops?”  She snickers as Tharick’s about to blow a gasket.  “Oh relax, Benny.  You knew better than to trust me.”

Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal?

Lamer saruman fixes Magy with a hateful gaze.

“You should sincerely pray I never locate your phylactery.”

Another shit eating grin from the lich bitch.

“Which one?”

*foom*

Magy bursts into green flames and in moments is reduced to a pile of green and brown ashes and bone.  Ugh.  Smells like someone set fire to a sewage plant.

Ignoring me, senior senior citizen walks past, through the slaughterhouse at the north end of the lab, and stares down at prince douche.  Hear a sigh before he speaks.

“If I held any conception of the damage you would cause?  The moment the Lord General’s demands arrived?  Would have burned down this institution myself, and saved you the trouble.”

Yeah, not feeling a whole lot of sympathy right now.  Don’t even turn around before replying.

“If this school wasn’t a clusterfuck wrapped in a shitshow?  I wouldn’t have needed to do anything.”  Turn my head enough to side eye him.  Sparks crawl over Sanctity and fire lines Tormentor.  “Want to take a shot at the title?”

The rector doesn’t move.  Just keeps staring down at the prince’s body.

“A pointless endeavor.  Why bother when you have already sentenced yourself and your companions?”

Keep my mana bubbling.  Meridians pumping.  Don’t trust this fuck.

“Sentenced?”

Hear a chuckle from lamer saruman.

“Only an individual from another world could be so ignorant.”  Oi!  “Lustonia is a strong and wealthy nation.  And you just killed his majesty’s last son.”

“So?”

Another chuckle.

“Ignoramus.  Anyone who wants to earn Lustonia’s favor?  Will become your enemy.  And, lest you forget, the huge bounty his majesty shall quickly place on you.”  Points towards Lizzy and Milti still on the floor.  “Of course they will go after your women too.”

“Meh…  I’ll just kill them too.”

Tharick looks up to the heavens.

“If the gods are kind?  You will die first.”  Waves another hand.  “Yet since they are anything but.  You shall witness your loved ones die, one by one.  Never knowing when their next meal will be poisoned.  When a dagger shall pierce their back.”

Turn around to face Tharick head on.  Feed more mana into the superswords.  Lightning and flames are reaching the floor now.  Leaving black scorch marks on the marble.

“Then I’ll just kill everyone else first.”

Lamer saruman turns to face me.  [Super Senses] shows his mana is primed and ready too.  His expression, however, is back to its usual lack thereof.

“If anyone else made such a claim I would believe it empty bravado.”  See his eyes glance at Drabek.  “You though?”  Another pause.  “Viscount Jon Barton.  I hereby expel you from Stormgarde Academy.  I bid thee leave this institution and never darken its doors again.”

We are both still charged up.  The air is thick with leaking mana.

“That’s it?  No threats?”

The rector’s mana suddenly dissipates.  His bony shoulders droop.

“Another pointless endeavor.  I have issued instructions that no one interfere with your departure.”  Wrinkled old eyes meet mine.  “Some would wish you well.  However, I loathe you.  So I pray you suffer and fail.  Goodbye Jon Barton.”

The tall Rector of Stormgarde Academy strides past me.  His long dark sleeveless robe spreading a wide streak of red blood behind him as he leaves.

Cutoff my mana and sheathe the superswords.  Walk up to the red tinted Milti and Lizzy, still on their butts and holding each other, against the wall.

Milti looks at me with haunted eyes.

“Father is… dead.  He was visiting when they came for me.  Cut him down in front of me.  Laughed as he died.  As I screamed.”

Lizzy is facing me too.  Seems lucid again but no less traumatized.

“I was so scared…  Wasn’t my body.  Wasn’t my world.  Monsters were real.  He seemed so… dashing.  Like a disney prince.  Just wanted to feel safe.  Would do, bugger, did do anything he wanted for it.”

Pick up Milti in a princess carry and support Lizzy as she leans on me.  We pause on our way out of the room when I notice Sonja and the now scared shitless skanks in waiting are still here.

Her eyes finally focus and find mine.  Begins reaching for me but stops herself.

“I… I wish… You had taken my oskuld, Lord Lion.”  Eyes begin to glaze.  “Instead of that… jakel.”

Now that I’m paying attention.  Notice bruises hidden under long sleeves and behind a buttoned collar.

“Do you want to leave with me?”

Otaku girl nods.

“Yes, my lion.  But I cannot.  Will be expected to… accompany his body home.”  Thousand yard stare is back.  “My family will need me, to survive the troubled times ahead.”

“Alright.”

Nod and head for the door.  Escorted by Drabek.  Hear Sonja mutter.

“Thank you, Lord Lion, for avenging me.”

We enter the empty hallways of Kashiwa Hall and the door to Room 152 closes behind us.

*clack*