◈ Chapter 135:

Lyra found herself near crawling through a cramped passage no more than four feet high. At first she thought she would be in and out of the slave passages, grabbing Opal and dragging her back to deal with the Lamia teenager, but then the passage had split and then split again and again and then she didn't know where she was going or even how to get back.

 

How the hell was she to find Opal in any of this?! The slave corridors were more of a maze than anything, apparently every damned wall in the mansion had its own separate slave passage behind it, and she had quickly gotten very very lost. 

 

She had seen Goblins, sort of, whenever she caught sight of their frightened eyes they had immediately scurried away into the dusty gloom, clearly terrified that a Leveler had entered their sacred space and fearing for their lives.

 

They didn't even pause when she cried out for them to stop, darting into passages that when she turned into appeared empty. The Goblins clearly knew the place like the back of their hands and she simply did not.

 

Lyra could feel herself getting more and more irritated. Here she was stuck searching for an Opal shaped needle in a haystack all while Rain was being accosted by some, some, slut of a teenager! Being seduced by her swaying hips and- and bralessness! 

 

It was clearly outrageous, obviously she should be the one doing the seduc- the pleasant and polite conversation.

 

As she caught sight of a green foot just darting out of view she came to the end of her patience. It was time to resort to desperate measures.

 

The problem was clear, the place was too large and too maze like, and that meant she couldn't find anything alone, there was too much area to cover. She needed help, help from someone who could scout a very large area very quickly. She had almost brought that certain someone out earlier, but Rain had wanted to try interrogating a maid first.

 

Her wool washed black, the gate to fleece harbour opening.

 

The only problem was, how to get the snooty skeleton to come out.

 

She held up her black wooled arm and then hesitantly whisper hissed “Vash!”

 

Nothing happened.

 

“VASH!” she yelled at her arm, dust falling from the ceiling around her, voice filling the silent cramped space.

 

Nothing happened, and she suddenly felt a bit silly. Of course he couldn't hear her, not everyone had hearing like Rain that could pierce the barrier of her wool.

 

There was only one thing to do, she had to go inside herself. 

 

But what if that was a really bad idea? There was a reason she hadn't done it yet, it just felt, well the idea of going inside herself felt really really weird, but there was also the possibility something bad might happen. A childhood spent with other noble children meant she had heard a lot of horror stories of the very rich and ignorant putting their dimensional bag inside their second dimensional bag and then their skin would turn inside out, or they would explode into lots of very small pieces… Okay, maybe that wouldn't happen, but she did have the sense to be wary of such a thing, logically bad things could happen when putting a dimensional space inside a second dimensional space. At the very least it could break, which was why she had never allowed their dimensional bag to be put into her wool space.

 

Mentally preparing she drew in breath, exhaled, drew in breath, exhaled, drew in breath, held it, and jammed her forearm up against her eyes.

 

The wool boiled and billowed outwards, engulfing her face. And she found herself looking into a room she had yet to see, her room, her wool space, her face poking from one wall.

 

Her mouth immediately dropped open as the most eye-catching thing in the room instantly drew her attention.

 

It was a statue of her, winking, and giving a thumbs up.

 

And. She. Looked. Awesome!

 

She boggled at the depiction of herself, like some gorgeous Goddess steeping down amongst the dirty dishevelled masses to offer divine protection. A being to be worshipped for her beauty and poise, and excellent fashion sense, a goddess that would have multiple large temples built in her name. She could feel her ego inflating in realtime looking upon the wondrous thing!

 

How had they not told her about this awesome statue?! 

 

The second thing to catch her attention was slightly less poised.

 

A skeleton was squatting over a stone bed, a book held in his hands, looking for all the world like a person reading while on the toilet.

 

The skeleton had frozen as he noticed her.

 

“Wh- why is there no privacy for me in here?!

 

“What are you doing in my room?! Why are you pooping in here?! What the hell have you been doing inside of me?!”

 

“Poop-? I am not pooping!”

 

The skeleton quickly straightened and tried his best to pretend that nothing had been happening. He dropped the book over a black ruby left on the bed in a quick attempt to hide it.

 

“Then what was that black thing huh? Are you going to tell me that didn't come out of your butthole? That you aren't defecating in me?”

 

Vash’s flame eyes flashed bright and burned with indignation.

 

“It’s not- Skeletons do not have buttholes! I am merely absorbing to grow my power.”

 

“You are? Then why does it look like a poop that you were suspiciously squatting over?”

 

The skeleton turned and snatched up the black ruby. He marched over and held it up in front of her face.

 

“Does this look like poop to you?”

 

“It is small and black, maybe you just ate something wei-”

 

“It’s not black! it’s just a really deep shade of red that your inferior living eyeballs are unable to perceive in your limited spectrum! Not that you could appreciate its purity and nature even if you could.”

 

Lyra squinted at the held up ruby. It just appeared as a flat black to her, a very very deep… red? She thought she perceived something in there, a flicker motion, a river, a river of red. 

 

She flinched as the river of blood fully formed before her eyes for a moment before vanishing.

 

Vash paused. 

 

“Ah, perhaps I misspoke, I forgot momentarily that you are part Elf. A natural sense for magic may allow for some... deeper perception.”

 

“Wh-what the hell is that thing?”

 

“Hell, yes, an appropriate use of the word. Is it really that hard to figure out? You retrieved these rubies from a certain leveler who had a dedicated interest in the occult, in the demonic. Useful curios that I can easily make use of as an undead without risk to myself.”

 

“And Rain is letting you just absorb this sketchy looking stuff?”

 

The skeleton unhappily lifted a finger and pointed at this skull.

 

Now she was looking Vash’s head did appear a little different, whereas before she might have seen a centipedal leg darting at the back of an eye socket, now there were dozens, a pair of pincers could be seen behind his teeth as well. The necromancer’s skull had been turned into a full on centipede nest. 

 

“Hmmm. Fine. But come outside, I need you.”

 

“Outside?” said the skeleton perking up.

 

“Yes, we’re in Wranvyre’s estate, you said you wanted to help didn't you? Come come.”

 

Lyra pulled back from her fluff and lost view of her wool space, her view replaced with the gloomy cramped slave passages, the wool on her arms snapping back to its original trim shape.

 

After a moment it boiled again, this time on her legs which were pressed together as she crouched, and a dark cloaked figure crawled free on his hands and knees, getting his feet under him as he then rose, an imperious death mage, rising in freedom-

 

His skull collided with the low ceiling with an impressive clonk and the skeleton nearly fell on his ass.

 

“Where in the abyss are we? Why are we in a rabbit warren? What is this?!?” he complained, feeling at the unfortunately low ceiling in the dark space.

 

“We’re in Lord Wranvyre’s estate as I said, in the main mansion bit of it, at least I think we are, and we’re in the slave passage part of that. You said you wanted to help kill Lord Wranvyre right?”

 

“Yes, I will help with that, it is a fair exchange for building trust, my recognition of that is why I deigned to offer.”

 

Lyra nodded, “Okay, then forget that for the moment, we need to find Opal before we can go give that asshole his due karma.”

 

“You summoned be from beyond the veil to find a runaway Goblin?”

 

“It’s not ‘the veil’ it’s my wool, and yeah, she’s gone missing and we need to find her and then go and stop a Lamia from seducing Rain.”

 

“...I see,” said Vash, not really seeing at all, but still pleased to be outside of wool space. “I will of course first need to rebuild my collection, pitiful as it is, my magics cannot pass through your woolen barrier and as such my previous rats were discarded. If you would only agree to let my collection into you-

 

“I’m not freaking letting hundreds of dead rats into me!” hissed Lyra, practically spitting acid as she glared at him.

 

“Hmm. Well, in that case.”

 

The crouching skeleton raised his boney hands, and things began to move in the dust around them.

 

Lyra flinched back as a mouse skeleton crawled from under the dirt and crud, and then a rat from the wall, and then another, soon the corridor was swarming with skeletons and to Lyra’s great dismay she found herself at the centre of it all.

 

There was just something a little upsetting about being trapped in a cramped dark space as dozens of dead vermin clicked and scuttled around you.

 

“C-can you send them away, t-to scout?”

 

Vash paused, noticing her dismay.

 

“I understand you are not a fan of these rats, truly I am neither, they are a poor material that can withstand little physical wear and tear, a very poor grade of undead clay.”

 

“It’s more that they’re really gross.”

 

“Quite.”

 

The skeleton snapped his fingers together, which on a skeleton made a sharp click sound, and the undead vermin army scattered, heading in every direction at once.

 

It wasn’t long before one returned and Vash had a direction. They set off down the passage, this time with a definite guide.

 

The number of Goblins Lyra snatched glances of only increased as they went, the green slaves running in fright as they made their way deeper into the slave warren until the passage abruptly opened up and Lyra found herself looing out into a wide open space, one large enough to stand up in which she promptly did so. It appeared to be some kind of large dingy kitchen, one used by the Goblins to prepare food for their masters when the actual servants were off duty.

 

Opal was there, standing on a crate as a crowd of Goblins clustered around her. She had gotten a flag from somewhere, a green one, and was holding it in one hand, she’d also gotten a black scarf, which she had wrapped around her neck and chin making her look somehow roguish. 

 

“-You don't have to listen to me, but you know, you aren't like dungeon Gobbos, I’ve seen it, you care for each other and don't stab each other in the back at every other moment. That matters! That's different!”

 

She had started to lose their attention however as they noticed Lyra, a ripple of genuine fear going through the crowd as they turned to see her.

 

Lyra blinked as she realised that the Goblins were more afraid of her, a leveler, than the cloaked necromancer at her side, they thought her more terrifying than Vash! 

 

That was a weird feeling.

 

“Uh, Opal, we don't have time for this, I’m sorry, but we’ve got to go.”

 

Opal scowled at her. “This matters too, just watch.” She turned back to the crowd of increasingly nervous Goblins.“This cannot go on, Gobbos cannot be slaves forever, you must do something, rise up or something!” She shook the flag meaningfully.

 

An older female Goblin wearing an over sized apron hesitantly raised a hand

 

“Uhm, we-we already did that once.”

 

Opal paused, “You did?”

 

“Y-yes! And uhm, they herded every slave Gobbo on the estate into a hall.”

 

“And you fought them?”

 

“...No, they used us for target practice, the ones who were most bold tried to fight back were killed first, in the end only the timid were left… But it’s not so bad, as long as we don't fight back, only one or two Gobbos die a week, that's really much better than other masters!”

 

Opal’s flag drooped, her lips parting in dismay.

 

“Opal,” said Lyra softly, “This isn't it, I’m sorry.”

 

“I can't… I should help! somehow!”

 

“Maybe, but Rain is in danger of being found, and that would be bad, you don't want that to happen right? They will kill him for being a monster.”

 

Her shoulders fell slightly. “Hey... it wasn’t like I came in here just for me, I found out about the thing for you too, and more.”

 

Lyra blinked, “You know where he is? Where Wranvyre is?

 

Opal gestured vaguely at the Goblin wearing an apron and Lyra turned to her.

 

“Y-yes, we know, the Lord had his usual orgy on his return and is currently asleep having expended himself, l-leveler mistress ma’am!”

 

“How do you know this?”

 

“B-because we cleaned up the mess! There was a lot of wet patches and sticky stuff that the Lord wouldn’t want to see or touch on awaking, so we do it while he naps, we have easy access just for that.”

 

Lyra considered her words. The Goblins had easy access to Lord Wranvyre’s bed chamber? Meaning the slave passages? And more, he was asleep? Right now? ...She believed it.

 

She lifted a hand and a black knife materialised in her fingers. She gripped it, her knuckles going white.

 

This knife… this knife had killed Lady Glyrieth. She wasn’t stupid, Lady Glyrieth must have been of a reasonably high level, yet this knife had easily pierced her neck. If Lord Wranvyre was asleep, couldn't she do the same? She wouldn't even have to put Rain in danger, she would simply step through the slave door appearing right next to Lord Wranvyre’s bed and quickly stab down while he slept then dash back out, it would take seconds and then this would all be done with. The knife that had killed his wife would be used to kill him, the karma of it was almost beautiful, an elegance that just fit.

 

In a moment Lyra knew this was what she wanted to do.

 

“Tell me, Tell me where he is Opal, Tell me!”

 

Opal remained silent, then lifted her hand, her finger pointing straight up.