Slayers - Volume 1 - Chapter 1

1: Beware! Bandit Bullying and a Place for the Night

I was being followed.

So what, you ask? Aw, don’t be like that. I know it’s a pretty common story. Actually, it’s practically an everyday occurrence for me...

Look, I’m just trying to spin a narrative here. Proper setup and suspense and all that. So bear with me, okay?

Anyway, I reckoned my pursuers had to be closing in about now. They were bandits, by the way. As for why they were coming after me... Well, let’s just say I haven’t gotten a lot of honest work lately, and my purse was feeling so neglected that I was forced to raid a bandit hideout and avail myself of some treasure.

Yeah, I know. It doesn’t sound good. I didn’t take much, though! Seriously! In the grand scheme of things, it was like the most minuscule speck of dirt under a pixie’s fingernail! Yet for some reason, these jerks just couldn’t let it go. That’s why they’ve been following me and following me and following me ever since! How stingy can you be?

Well, I guess if you’re the giving type, you generally don’t choose “bandit” as your top career choice...

Anyway, this wasn’t quite “bandits flitting in and out of my peripheral vision” levels of urgent yet. It’s just... my dainty little legs can only carry me so fast, you know? I can’t outrun a bunch of big, stinky men. I know they’re gonna catch up to me sooner or later... Oh, what will become of our fair heroine Lina?!

Who’s Lina, you ask? Seriously?! Me! I’m Lina!

Ahem. Anyway...

I pulled the curtain on my rambling inner monologue as I stopped in place. Dense, unyielding trees crowded both sides of the deserted path, which otherwise cut straight through the forest ahead. The bright noon sun was streaming down through the thick canopy overhead. It was pretty much the same scenery I’d been looking at for a while now. Except...

It was quiet. Too quiet. The birds had all stopped singing and the other animals had fallen silent. And I could tell why. There was a clear air of hostility emanating from the underbrush.

I’m surrounded.

The bandits must’ve used their knowledge of the area to head me off. I thought about calling out to them, but nothing particularly snappy came to mind. So instead, I just stood still and waited. It was an equally effective way of saying, “Hey, I know you’re out there.”

I mentioned earlier that I was on a straight path through the forest, but this particular stretch of it was pretty wide—plenty of space for a proper brawl! See, if I’d chosen a narrower place to stop, I’d practically be asking to be backstabbed from the bushes.

Anyhoo, I didn’t have to wait long before a man stepped out of the woods and onto the road ahead of me. He was clearly trying to block my way.

“Fancy running into you here, little girl,” he said, falling back on the kind of hoary old cliche that not even zombies and skeletons would be caught dead using nowadays.

Smooth-shaved head? Check. No shirt? Check. Eyepatch? Check. His whole look just screamed “I’m a bandit chief!” in an I’m-trying-too-hard kind of way. Oh, and did I mention the scimitar in his hand? Basically doubling down on the whole aesthetic. Yeah, this was definitely the kind of guy who shows up in the first half of the story only to get smacked down hard by a plucky band of heroes.

My favorite part was his skin, which was so greasy it looked like he’d rubbed himself down with lard (hnnngh).

“You’ve given us the slip so far...”

Oh, for the love of...!

I mean, okay, I’d already figured this guy’s vocabulary was maybe a hundred words at best, but still! At least try to come up with a line that hasn’t been used a million zillion times before!

“...But now it’s time we pay you back for the trouble.”

You’re killing me, old man!

“At least, that’s what I was gonna say...” he muttered, the grin on his face turning creepy.

Uh-oh. What now?

“I’m gonna be honest here: I don’t wanna fight you. For one thing, I expect you to give as good as you get. You’ve got balls, you know? Er, I mean that as a compliment. Anyway, what you did back at our base was a work of art. Scattering us all with one big spell out of nowhere, setting fire to everything in your path... Our boss died in that fire, y’know? And while we were all running around like chickens with our heads cut off, you went and swiped the best loot outta the storehouse. Not even we’d do something that cold, little lady.”

Okay, yeah... That may or may not have been how things actually went down. But so what? No rights for the wicked—that’s my motto!

“I think you’ve got what it takes, so I’m gonna make you an offer. See, I came out here to avenge my late boss. That means this goes one of two ways: either we chase you down until we kill you, or until you kill all of us. We can agree that’s a bad deal for both parties, right? So... how’s about you join us instead?”

I was offended at the mere suggestion. It was absolutely preposterous. I’m a law-abiding citizen, after all!

...No, really! I am!

“Give back our treasure and agree to join our gang, and we’ll let bygones be bygones about the boss. The work ain’t that hard, if that’s what you’re wondering. Just do what I say and everyone’s happy. I’ll even treat you nice. We’ll have a few laughs together. Well? Not a bad deal, huh?” he offered, that gross grin creeping across his lips again.

Hoo boy... Well, that at least explained a few things.

It was starting to sound like this guy was the group’s second-in-command, who’d had his eye on the boss’s digs for years. So when I came along and offed the guy, I was basically handing him exactly what he wanted.

That meant he hadn’t come after me for revenge so much as he had come to get his treasure back. And once he found me, he’d decided he wanted me—my power and my body.

Too bad I’m not the kind of jerk who teams up with bandits. Also, I don’t know why he thought I’d be even the tiniest bit tempted by the offer of palling it up with a quintessentially middle-aged bandit. What girl wants to spend the rest of her days asking, “How did robbing innocent villagers go today, dear?”

Besides, I’m saving myself for Prince Charming! Okay, not really, but you get the idea!

“Better answer fast, girlie. We can’t be hanging around here all day. Gotta find a new hideout on the double.”

Wow, this guy just wouldn’t shut up. I guess he was feeling pressured by my lack of a response. My voice is pleasantly chirpy and girlish, you see, so I’m sure a few words from me would’ve helped put him at ease... but why should I do this guy any favors? I just stood there in silence while he kept talking and talking and talking. It was clear that he was growing more agitated by the minute.

“So, what do you think? Say something already!” he barked.

“No,” I said, countering his long ramble with a single word. I said it brusquely too, in as deep a voice as I could manage without it sounding unnatural.

“What the...” he muttered, his mouth agape and the color visibly draining from his face.

“You...!” he finally managed to squeeze out. “You stupid bitch! I come to you, hat in hand, and this is how you treat me?! Well, I know how to deal with trash like you! I’ll slice you to ribbons! C’mon out, boys!”

Answering his call, the other bandits hidden in the forest came pouring out to surround me. There were about a dozen of them in total.

“Not a lot of you, are there?” I said, and I meant it.

But, man, you shoulda seen the guy’s face! It was hilarious. I guess he just couldn’t believe I wasn’t impressed by the size of his gang.

“F-Feh! There are more of us, just so you know! Yeah! A lot more! I’ve got men in the forest with their bows trained on you as we speak! One word from me, and they’ll shred you like an old rag. But if you get down on your knees and beg my forgiveness, I might just spare you. So come on, go ahead!”

Talk about an obvious bluff! Learning to sense people hiding in a forest is Sword & Sorcery 101. So I’d have known in a heartbeat if anyone was really there, seeing as how I’m both an ace swordsman and a virtuoso sorcerer...

Oh Lina, you modest thing!

Anyhoo, just about when I’d decided to finish what I’d started with these guys...

“Hold it right there!” a voice called out.

We all turned to see who it was and saw a man—a real “traveling mercenary” type—standing there with the noon sun glittering off his unsheathed longsword. I was kind of waiting for a theme song to start playing, maybe one with a woodwind section.

He was tall and slender, and wore a gleaming black breastplate that looked like it was made from iron serpent scales. He looked to me like your archetypal “light fighter.” The kind of guy who capitalizes on speed and technique over brute force. His hair was platinum blond, and I gotta admit, he was pretty easy on the eyes.

“Turn tail and run home, you petty thieves... unless you care to taste my blade,” he said brazenly.

The frustrated bandit leader’s face went from pale to purple.

“Butt out! This ain’t none of your business! Just who are you, anyway?”

“I have no name for scum like you!”

Omigosh, now that was embarrassing. But it’s what he honestly said, so I have to relay it. Guh, I feel like I just swallowed a bug...

Anyway, you see this kind of thing all the time. Whenever someone’s in trouble, guys like this just come out of the woodwork! Funny that they’re usually good-looking and pretty decent fighters to boot.

“You brat! I’ll take care of you first, then! Get ’im, boys!”

“Right!”

And just like you’d expect, a big ol’ swashbuckling action scene broke out. I considered helping Mr. Hero out, but then I thought, you know what? I’ll let him have his moment. I decided to go all-in on the damsel-in-distress role instead, running around aimlessly and screaming my head off.

Boy, was that the life! I got so into screaming and flailing that the fight was over before I knew it. Needless to say, Mr. Hero came out on top.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he turned his eyes to me... and was stunned into silence.

This was fairly normal. I mean, not to brag or anything, but I’m a pretty hot little number. I’ve got those big, round eyes. That cute little face. The kind of trim, slender, petite silhouette that just fans a man’s protective instincts.

He let out a grand sigh. (One of admiration, no doubt.) But then he whispered something I heard clear as day...

“Oh... it’s just a kid.”

Ack! Okay, that really hurt. But he didn’t stop there.

“With all the fuss over her, I figured she’d at least be attractive... I stuck my neck out hoping I’d make a good impression... but it’s just some doe-eyed, flat-chested little kid.”

Oof!

Okay, so maybe I’m a little short for my age. Okay, maybe my chest is a little on the... modest side. And fine, maybe I look a little young for my years. But you don’t have to twist the knife, dammit! I mean, sure, he probably thought I couldn’t hear him mumbling to himself, but unfortunately for everyone, I’ve got pretty keen ears. I’ve been told they’re as sharp as an elf’s, in fact.

Nevertheless, it was true that he’d stuck his neck out to save me (even if I’d let him do it), so I figured I should at least thank him.

“Th-Thanks a lot. Really,” I mustered with a forced grin.

“I only did what any man would have,” he said with a faint laugh. “I hope you weren’t harmed, little miss.”

Little miss, huh?

“But you know, it’s not safe for a young lady like yourself to be out here alone. Do you have an escort? Is your father with you?”

Grrr...

“As it just so happens, I’m traveling alone.”

Arrrgh...

He probably couldn’t see it with my bangs covering my forehead, but I was sure the veins were popping out of my temples.

“That won’t do... But worry not. Your new big brother will see you home safely.”

Why, you...! You...! You...!

“So, where do you live, little miss?”

Oooooh...

“Er, well... I don’t have any particular destination in mind. I was thinking of heading for Atlas City, though...”

“Oh. Oh, yes, of course. What a brave little thing you are.”

“...Excuse me?”

“There’s no need to worry. Life can be complicated. I understand.”

“Um...”

“No, don’t speak. I understand completely.”

Uh... huh.

I’d been staring at the ground this whole time, speaking in the most restrained manner I could muster in an attempt to hold back my seething irritation. But Mr. Hero here misinterpreted my polite reticence as caginess. He seemed to think I was some poor little girl who’d been forced to leave home under less-than-fortunate circumstances.

I patiently attempted to correct him on that point.

“Er, no, really... You see, I’m just kind of traveling the world, seeing the sights...”

“Please, no need for excuses,” he said as though admonishing a child. “I won’t press you any further.”

Okay, yeah, this is hopeless.

“Oh, I know! I shall escort you to Atlas City myself.”

Hey, hang on a minute!

“N-No, you don’t have to do that...”

Give me a break! Atlas City was about ten days from here. Two hundred and forty hours with this irritating jerk? I was gonna get a stomach ulcer! No, my stomach was just plain gonna melt!

“Don’t be like that, little miss. I can tell you need a friend right now.”

That’s not your call, man!

“Er, no... You really don’t have to do that...”

That back-and-forth went on and on, until at last...

A few hours later, we were strolling down the main road side by side. Yeah, okay, so I gave in. My head was still pounding from the whole encounter.

“Oh, that’s right. I haven’t introduced myself, have I? I’m Gourry, a traveling mercenary. Though I guess that part was obvious enough. Now, what about yourself, little miss?”

I was irritated enough that I briefly considered giving him a fake name. But my better judgment told me there was no point in bothering.

“I’m Lina. Just your typical traveler.”

I was honest about my name, though it should’ve been blatantly obvious from one look at me that I was anything but your typical traveler. Gourry, however, showed no inclination to call me on it. I guess he figured I had some reason for lying.

You see why I caved in the end? He was clearly a decent dude. A bona fide good guy. If he’d given the slightest inkling of creepy “Oh, yes, let’s travel together, little girl... heh heh heh” shenanigans, I would’ve knocked him flat on his ass without a second thought. But Gourry seemed genuinely concerned about me, which was why I couldn’t just turn him away...

But even so...

“But even so...” he mumbled to himself, apparently still under the impression that I couldn’t hear him when he did this. “Babysitting some kid on her way to Atlas City? Not exactly the most glamorous job in the world...”

But even so, he really got on my nerves.

Once I got a moment to myself, I let out the big, deep sigh I’d been holding in all day.

We’d stopped for the night in a lodging town along the main road. After dinner, we went to our rooms. Gourry took his next to mine.

My own room was pretty small, with the floor and walls all made of wood. The furnishings consisted of a bed and a table that held a single lamp, which was the only source of light in the room. Not exactly the lap of luxury, but at least the place looked well maintained.

My nose got a heavy dose of the distinctive scent of burning animal oil as I entered the room and bolted the door. I quickly unfastened my cape, which I shrugged off unceremoniously. Whew, that was one burden off my shoulders!

With my cape on the floor, I immediately started rooting through it. It was still jam-packed with the spoils of war from my victory over the bandits—in other words, all the loot I’d swiped. That whole escapade had turned into such a mess that I hadn’t had a chance to sort through it all since I’d first dumped it into sacks. I’d tried to be discerning about what I took—passing over anything too small-potatoes or too cumbersome—but I’d still made off with quite a haul.

I plopped down on my outspread cape and started pulling things out of my various leather bags. Then I held my hands up, palms facing each other, in front of my chest. I began chanting a spell under my breath, and as I slowly pulled my hands apart, a ball of light appeared between them.

I tossed the ball of light up toward the ceiling, and the room was suddenly filled with a radiant glow. This was a little spell I knew called “Lighting.” I needed more than just the oil lamp in the room if I wanted to get a good look at all my new treasure. Let’s see...

Two or three hundred considerably-sized gemstones. Some of them were scratched, but I could sort that out later.

One orichalcum idol... Ooh, that should fetch a good price.

Then there was a pretty big knife. It was technically a magic weapon, but the enchantment on it looked pretty nasty.

“Probably sends you on a killing spree if you use it too much... Well, it still might fetch a decent price at a magic shop somewhere. Next up...”

A dozen or so coins from the Principality of Letidius, which had fallen five hundred years ago. Woohoo! That one got a whistle out of me.

“Lucky me! I can sell these to any collector, no sweat.”

That about wrapped it up for my haul. Not the most valuable stuff in the world, but about par for a random group of petty bandits.

Of course, “valuable” is relative, mind you. Even if I lowballed myself selling all of this, I’d still walk away with enough money to provide a normal person a comfortable retirement.

What? No, I’m not greedy. Magic’s just an expensive business, okay?

“Now, for these puppies...”

It was time to get to work on the gemstones.

I first organized them by type, and then sorted each type into two piles: scratched and flawless. I could sell the pristine ones as-is, but the B-grade ones wouldn’t fetch much in their current condition. They needed a little TLC. Don’t worry. I had a plan.

I pulled a few more things out of my bags. The first was a crystal ball type deal about the size of a child’s fist, which I gingerly set on the floor. It rolled around a little before slowing to a stop with the marker inside of it pointing toward the window.

“Gotcha. That way’s north, so...”

Next, I unrolled a piece of paper with a magic circle drawn in the center of it out over the floor. The paper was perfectly square, just wide enough that I could roll it out without straining, and had the color and luster of an elf maiden’s skin.

(If it sounds like I’m being vague about my tools, materials, and incantations, you’re right. The details have been redacted. They’re all trade secrets. Sorry.)

After that, I painted a small piece of wood with special ink and used it to stamp a smaller magic circle onto a smaller piece of paper. I then set a pristine ruby in the center of the magic circle on the floor and placed the little paper I’d just stamped upon that. And to top it all off, I quietly chanted a fire spell. The little paper burst into flames, incinerated to ash in a flash.

“Okay, that’s step one,” I sighed as I peered at my handiwork.

The small magic circle was now visible inside the ruby sitting on the floor; the spell I’d just cast had sealed it in there.

Next, I took one of the scratched rubies in my left hand and held it over the gem containing the magic circle. I then recited a wind spell, which crumbled the gem in my hand like old clay. The newly-created ruby dust rained down onto the gem below it.

I repeated the same process over and over until I’d disposed of all the scratched rubies the same way, leaving a massive pile of ruby dust lying in the magic circle on the floor.

“Now then...”

I sprinkled some clear fluid from a small bottle over the pile and held my left palm out over it, chanting a particular pattern of earth and water spells. My outstretched palm began to glow, and the mountain of ruby powder let out a flash of light.

By the time I slowly pulled my hand away, what had once been a mountain was now a mere lump.

Success. Now I just had to wait.

The ruby’s surface, rough like unglazed pottery, slowly became more lustrous, almost like it was melting... until at last, it solidified into a large ruby about the size of an adult’s fist, the magic circle still sealed inside.

“Okay, one down!”

After that, I repeated the entire process with the other varieties of gemstones I’d gotten my hands on.

Upgrading them into magical artifacts ensured they’d sell for good coin. They made simple protective talismans when mounted in pendants, and they could similarly enhance the capabilities of weapons and armor. The pendant, bandanna, and shortsword I wore were all rightly equipped with them.

Fashionable, flashy, and practical, they’re all the rage with the bourgeoisie! Buy yourself a jeweled amulet today!

Whoops! Accidentally slipped into marketing mode there! That’s what I get for growing up in a merchant family...

Hang in there, Lina! Nine days left to Atlas City!

The following day, Gourry and I set off down the main road again. The weather was perfect. There must have been a river somewhere nearby too, because I could hear the faint babbling of water. The leaves rustled in the trees, shyly answering the gentle whisper of the wind. Sunlight pouring through the branches dappled the parched road below. It was an idyllic afternoon.

I let out a little sigh...

“I’m hungry.”

Hey, keep your judgment to yourself! A girl can’t help when she gets hungry! We’d left first thing in the morning, and the next town was a full day away! It was around noon that we’d spotted a caravan on the side of the road enjoying some trail rations... which clued us in to the fact that there wouldn’t be any waystations or restaurants along the way.

“You promised not to say that, little miss...” Gourry said, sounding worn.

He didn’t even bother to turn my way when he said it. I was more annoyed that he was still calling me “little miss,” though...

“Sometimes a man just has to tough it out,” he continued.

“I’m not a man,” I quipped back.

Gourry paused for a second there and finally looked my way.

“The same goes for women,” he said. “In tough times, you have to tough it out.”

“Does traveling on some aimless journey really qualify as ‘tough times’?”

Gourry came to a stop, and we both stared at each other for a long time. Our silence was punctuated only by the sound of the babbling water nearby.

In the end, we decided to go fishing for lunch.

The river wasn’t far off the beaten path and ran parallel to the main road. (Technically, I guess I should say that the road ran parallel to the river...) It looked wide and deep enough to swim in, the water was clear and clean, and the bank was all sandy soil. It was the perfect place to sit and take a lunch break.

“Here, fishie, fishie!” I sang as I got to work.

First, I picked out an appropriately-sized fallen tree branch. I then plucked a small fishing hook from my bag and a few lovely chestnut-colored hairs from my own darling little head. I braided the latter into one long cord, which I attached the hook to before tying the whole thing to the branch. Voila—one impromptu fishing rod!

“All done!”

“Impressive survival skills,” Gourry commented, entranced as he watched.

“You hold this,” I said, handing him the rod as we headed for the water.

I turned over a big ol’ river rock and snagged a couple of creepy-looking bugs (I don’t know what kind exactly) that were clinging to its underside. I slapped one of them on the hook and cast our line.

The river kept babbling as it flowed by.

Okay... Pull it back, recast, and... snag!

The river just kept babbling...

[Sequence abridged for your benefit.]

It wasn’t long before we’d amassed a small pile of fish. Gourry started a fire, so we salted and roasted those babies on the spot.

Mm, that’s tasty!

If I’m being honest, I like this straight-from-the-source stuff better than the fish you get at most restaurants. If they’re small enough, I like to gobble ’em down, head and all.

“I can’t believe you just bite into them like that,” Gourry groaned, his mouth agape in disbelief.

For all his professions of manhood, there he was... daintily picking away at the white flesh of his fish like some little girl.

“What a waste,” I lamented. “You don’t have to eat the head, but at least eat the guts.”

“I don’t wanna eat guts...”

“Weirdo. That’s the best part!” I declared, reaching for my second fish and boldly biting into its belly.

“But that’s like... its digestive system, right?” he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“You bet it is!”

“So the bug you caught it with is somewhere in there...”

Blurgh!

I reflexively spat out what was in my mouth.

You... You traitor...

“Y-Yeah, I guess it might be...”

“No, it is.”

“Okay, but still...”

You don’t have to say that right as I’m eating it! Argh, jeez...

And so, between all the conversation and my aggrieved inner monologue, we polished off the whole lot of fish we’d caught. And yes, Gourry ate more than I did, just in case you were wondering.

“Hmm, I’m still a bit peckish...” he admitted.

“Okay, then let’s catch a few more.”

I stood up, walked away from the fire, and reached for the fishing rod I’d left sitting out...

But my hand stopped midway. I could feel a presence nearby.

“Goblins,” Gourry muttered, not sounding especially perturbed. His voice was so quiet that I just barely heard him. “I caught a glimpse of them earlier. About twenty-four in all.”

Ah, of course! I picked up my fishing pole. If this was goblin territory, that would explain the lack of restaurants and rest stops in the area.

Goblins are perhaps the most populous species around, so virtually everyone’s seen them: humanoid creatures that stand about chest high. They’re nocturnal and fairly intelligent, but they’re kind of aggressive in terms of personality... though they can be a little cowardly, too. They mostly come out at night to steal cattle from towns and villages that are far enough away from the big cities to be vulnerable.

Moreover... they’re a lot of fun to mess with.

I took the fishing hook in my left hand and quietly recited a little “bite-at-every-cast” (proper name pending) spell. This was a Lina original, mind you. If it got out, it would spell the extinction of fish everywhere. That’s why I kept it in-house, so to speak, and I didn’t use it all that often myself.

Now, just as I finished chanting the spell...

“Skreh!”

With some strange sort of war cry, the goblins poured out of the undergrowth. They were armed (after a fashion) with rusty little swords and improvised spears made from bits of iron tied to sticks. Goblin highwaymen.

“Hush! Quiet!” I immediately said in Goblin.

The goblins all stopped in their tracks.

Now’s my chance!

I used the momentary distraction I’d created (not that it was especially hard) and cast my line into the water.

The river babbled as it flowed by... But other than that, there was silence.

The goblins all seemed to be wondering what I was doing as they stood there watching me. Goblins are curious by nature, you see, so I knew they wouldn’t attack until they’d figured out what I was doing.

And it wasn’t long before I got a bite.

“Yes!” I cried, still in Goblin, as I yanked the rod out of the water. “Yes! Big catch!”

I then pulled back on the pole while the fish was in the air at just the right moment, unhooking it and dropping it smack in front of the goblins. Easy enough to describe, sure, but a lot harder to pull off. Be impressed, okay?

“Grab it!” I shouted in Goblin.

“Skreek!”

“Skrak, skraa!”

“Skreeskra!”

Yes, good boys...

By the time the goblins nabbed the fish flopping around on the shore, I’d hooked two more. Needless to say, they just kept biting. By the time I’d hauled ten fish to shore, the goblins had formed a ring around me.

Now I got ’em.

“Here,” I said as I passed the pole over to the closest goblin.

“Skree?”

“It catches lots of fish,” I said to him in his own tongue. “Want to try?”

“Skree...?”

The goblin accepted the pole, head inquisitively cocked to the side, and cast the line into the water. He caught a fish immediately.

“Skreeskree!”

As his fellows crowded around him in excitement, Gourry and I made our exit.

“That was an interesting trick,” Gourry said to me later that night.

We’d finally made it to the next lodging town, and we were currently eating dinner at the tavern on the first floor of the inn, which reeked of booze and cheap cigars.

In a flash, I tore into the chicken leg in my left hand. It wasn’t too bad.

Hom, nom, nom... Mm!

In a flash, I drank down the cup of lesys juice in my right hand.

Oh, wait, that’s what Gourry was talking about!

“You mean this afternoon?”

Splat!

Gourry promptly faceplanted on the table.

Look, I wasn’t trying to play dumb or anything. I just hadn’t given the whole fishing trick that much thought. No, honestly. I mean it!

“It was a super simple spell. Practically any sorcerer could pull it off.”

“Ohh?” Gourry hummed, impressed. “Does that mean you’re a sorcerer?”

Blarghsplat!

Now it was my turn to faceplant on the table.

“Hang on, buddy!” I laid into Gourry. “Just what did you think I was? The outfit didn’t give it away?!”

Just so you know, my outfit this whole time had consisted of pants and tall boots; a loose-fitting tunic kept in place with a thick leather belt; thin leather gloves; a bandanna over my forehead; and pauldrons made from great turtle shells that had been polished thin and smooth, from which my cape hung down to just above the floor. Everything was a stylish black, accented here and there with magical glyphs embroidered in silver thread. My outfit was a bit like magical armor, a talisman of protection in its own right.

On top of that, I had my accessories—silver bracelets and a necklace, as well as a shortsword affixed with one of my own handcrafted magic jewels—which sparkled with a dazzling light. If anyone could look at all that and assume I was a waitress or a fishmonger or something, they had to be braindead, plain and simple.

“Now that you mention it, I suppose that is a sorcerer’s garb... Boy, and here I was sure you were a waitress or a fishmonger or something...”

Urghblarghsplat!

I took another faceplant, this time right into my bowl. It was only then that I realized I hadn’t actually finished my soup.

“Whoa. I was only kidding... You sure have some great comedic timing, you know?”

“It’s not exactly intentional,” I said, wiping potage from my face with a handkerchief.

“So, just how powerful are you? Can you use Fireball? Based on your outfit, I’m guessing you’re a black magic user.”

There were, roughly speaking, three kinds of magic: black magic, white magic, and shamanistic magic, the latter of which comprised both elemental and spiritual spells. Black magic was definitely my specialty, but don’t go getting the wrong idea; there were basically two main types of black magic, too. One was curses. The other was attack spells that didn’t fall under the purview of shamanistic magic—and that was my forte.

The “Fireball” spell Gourry had mentioned was an elemental fire spell, which meant it fell under shamanistic magic. Most people assumed all offensive spells were black magic, but that was a popular misconception.

“You think a sorcerer would reveal her secrets so easily?”

“Well, you just seem like the type who likes to talk about herself...”

Excuse me!

“Well, no matter. I’ll get to see you in action soon enough.”

I was about to ask what made him think that, but before I got the chance, someone barged into the tavern.

“That’s her!”

I looked to see who was shouting, and... Ah, crap. He was unmistakably pointing at me. I mean, he was actually pointing at our table. But because he’d said “her,” I just kind of assumed that meant me and not Gourry. (I don’t think anyone could mistake him for a girl, more’s the pity.)

A moment later, the room was filled with trolls. I thought at first that their leader was a mummy, but upon closer inspection, he was clearly just a sorcerer wrapped head-to-toe in bandages.

“Golly, I think you’ve got the wrong gal!” I quickly balled my fists up under my chin and went into cutesy mode. I threw in a fake name for good measure. “You just couldn’t be looking for sweet li’l Sofia!”

“Shut up! I don’t care what your name is! You’re the one who raided that bandit camp the other day, aren’t you?!”

Wuh-oh.

“Hey, hey now...” Gourry looked at me reproachfully.

“Look, I’ll explain later. For now, let’s just take care of these guys,” I said, turning to size up the trolls.

Trolls are considerably larger than humans with strength and toughness to match, but they’re also pretty agile for their size. A troll’s greatest asset, however, is its incredible regenerative powers. Any nonlethal wounds they take will heal right before your eyes. Translation: Kill them in one hit, or else.

That said, if I got too reckless with magic, I could blow up the inn and hurt a whole bunch of innocent people in the process.

“Okay, you got me,” I declared, kicking back my chair as I stood up. “Let’s settle this outside.”

“No way,” the mummy man instantly refuted.

“Oh, come on...”

I’d have to think on my feet and come up with a new idea lickety-split.

“If you return everything you stole, I could be convinced to call it even,” the mummy man offered.

“Oh, please. You think I’ll just let you walk off with my stuff? Check yourself, sorcerer thief.”

“You’re a sorcerer thief too,” Gourry interjected.

“Shut up. I only steal from bad guys,” I quibbled pointlessly as I prepared myself for battle.

“Get her!”

At the mummy man’s signal, the trolls leaped at me. I moved as soon as they did.

A troll’s main weapons are their sharp claws and extreme strength. It wasn’t pleasant to think about, but while my outfit provided me basic protection, I knew that one rake from those nasty troll claws would send my guts spilling all over the floor. One punch would knock my head clean off, too.

Of course, I had no intention of letting that happen.

The first troll came at me with a big, wide swing. I dodged, then planted my right hand on the troll’s back, using that as a fulcrum to spin past it and on to the next one. As this one reached out to grab me, I slid under it, grabbing one of its legs as I slipped between them. Obviously it wasn’t enough to topple the troll, but I did make it lose its balance for a second. I used the opportunity to right myself and head for the next one.

All of a sudden, I could feel a hostile presence behind me. Not a second later, a set of claws snagged my cape. Unfortunately for the troll, my cape was all it got—I’d unfastened it from my pauldrons a split second earlier.

Nice thinking, Lina!

The momentum of the troll’s swipe got it tangled up in my cape and caused it to fall awkwardly onto the floor. I gently poked it in the head with my finger. On to the next target!

After a little more of this and that, I found myself back at Gourry’s side.

“Hey, welcome back.”

“Gee, thanks!”

This big lummox had just been sitting there watching the whole time, not bothering to lift a single finger to help a lovely lady who was struggling. (I mean me, you jerks!) The nerve...

I’d hardly done any damage to the trolls in my little jaunt. In fact, I hadn’t taken out a single one of them.

“Slippery little minx...” the mummy man muttered in irritation.

Guess I must’ve really gotten under his skin.

“Gourry! Can you wound the trolls?” I asked sharply.

“Wound them? Um... you know they regenerate, right?”

“Of course I know! Just do it! Hurry!”

“Any old wound will do?”

“Yes!” I shouted.

The trolls were getting closer by the second.

“Okay, got it.”

Once he agreed to help, Gourry pulled his right hand out of his pocket. In it, I could see some nuts he must have plucked from trees on the way here—you know, the small, tough kind that squirrels love gnawing on. But the next thing I saw was a flick of Gourry’s hand and the nuts were gone.

“Urk!”

“Yow!”

The trolls were suddenly groaning and clutching various parts of their bodies—their arms, their sides, their foreheads. It was some genuinely impressive sniping. He’d propelled the nuts so hard that they’d pierced the trolls’ thick hides and embedded themselves deep into their flesh. Talk about incredible power; against a human opponent, a few hits like that could be lethal.

“Clever trick, child. But if you think that’s enough to defeat a troll—” the mummy man started to boast, but was interrupted mid-sentence.

“Grrragh!”

The trolls were screaming now. The acorn-sized wounds Gourry had inflicted on them were growing bigger and bigger as we spoke.

“What... What the heck? What’s happening?!” the mummy man shouted in confused desperation.

Gourry, too, could only watch slack-jawed as the wounds continued to expand in all directions. Some of the trolls were ripped in two at the waist, while others were bisected vertically. Once it was all said and done, more than half of the trolls had been reduced to nothing more than masses of dead flesh.

This was my handiwork, of course, but it wasn’t exactly a joy to look at. Good thing I’d already eaten, y’know? Gross!

Anyway, that left four trolls and the mummy man standing. Most of them looked less than thrilled about the prospect of rushing back into the fight. The panic and confusion over what I’d just done had rattled them pretty good.

Fear of the unknown is a powerful thing—but nothing’s that scary once you know the trick behind it.

See, when I’d touched each of the trolls earlier, I’d cast a little spell on them—a kind of an inversion of the white magic spell “Recovery.” Recovery maxes out a person’s physical and spiritual regenerative powers, which encourages their wounds to heal. What I’d done was the opposite: reversing the body’s ability to heal. And as fast as possible, at that.

Of course, the trolls’ naturally potent regenerative abilities made the process even more intense. Reversed and amplified, said abilities would cause even the tiniest wound to tear their whole body apart.

By the way, this spell was another Lina original. It felt kind of... you know... evil, so I’d never used it in combat before. And while it had really done the trick scaring the hell out of my enemies, I swore not to use it again. Another Sorcery 101 lesson: Never use spells that will haunt you in your dreams.

Anyway, I figured my dirty little trick would send them all running with their tails between their legs, but one of the trolls seemed determined to press its luck. In defiance of all good sense, it actually charged right at me.

I drew my shortsword and sprang into action while chanting a hushed spell under my breath. I may be small, but I had agility on my side. My blade clashed with its claws two, then three times, leaving the troll vulnerable for a split second.

“Now!”

I buried my sword deep into the troll’s side. The troll, however, sneered with a smirk that just screamed, “Gotcha!”

I’d done exactly what it was hoping for. It knew it couldn’t outmaneuver me, so it had intentionally given me an opening to stab it. And with my sword stuck in its hide, I was a sitting duck. A play like that would have been suicide for most, but with a troll’s regeneration, it was a valid strategy.

Too bad it wouldn’t really work on me. I let the troll enjoy its little moment of triumph... and then I put an end to things.

“Come, lightning!”

I channeled a Monovolt spell through my sword and into the troll, who never stood a chance. Its enormous body went into convulsions, and the poor sap was dead before it could even scream.

“It was a clever plan, but I’d say I did you one better.”

The troll’s corpse fell to the floor with a thud, and I decided it was time to make sure the baddies knew who was in charge here... in case it wasn’t clear already.

“Okay. It’s time to get serious.”

I clapped my hands together in front of my chest and slowly began to pull them apart, chanting all the while. A sphere of glowing light appeared between my palms, its iridescent flicker growing as I moved my hands further and further apart.

“Ack! A Fireball!” the mummy man shouted in desperate panic, his eyes wide. “Withdraw! Withdraw!”

And with that, he scrambled away with the remaining trolls in tow. I let out a relieved sigh, still holding the glowing ball of light in my hands.

“Hey, you’re not done yet! What about that Fireball?!” Gourry shouted while backing away swiftly.

I guess even a lummox like him knew how dangerous a Fireball was. See, Fireball’s a pretty popular offensive spell. The caster summons a ball of light which, when thrown, bursts upon impact and scatters fire everywhere. Pretty handy for taking out large groups at once. The actual damage it does varies a lot based on the user’s skill, but a direct hit can roast a human medium rare, easy.

“Hmm...”

I scrutinized the ball in my hands before abruptly tossing it up into the air.

The entire tavern let out a collective shriek before everything fell silent.

Eventually, Gourry looked up timidly.

“That wasn’t Fireball,” I explained with a mischievous smile, pointing up at the glowing ball now raining light from the ceiling. “It was just a Lighting spell.”

“And what are you going to do about all this?!”

The innkeeper was furious, although I couldn’t blame him. Tables and chairs were in splinters, troll corpses littered the floor, and the whole joint reeked of blood.

The Lighting I’d conjured as a mock-Fireball had been my undoing. The troll remains, previously obfuscated by the dim lamplight, were now illuminated for everyone to see in all their slushy, pulpy, disgusting glory...

And I gotta tell ya, it was one hell of a splatter. “Grotesque” doesn’t even begin to describe it. If you’ve ever worked at a butcher shop or seen an animal hit by a carriage, try to conjure that image in your mind for me. Got it? Yeah, this was a hundred times worse.

It definitely put a damper on the whole “come here for a good time and a good meal” atmosphere the tavern had going for it. Unable to take the new, uh, decor, about half the inn’s customers had already packed their bags and left. So, really, I could understand why the innkeeper was mad. Anyone capable of grinning and bearing something like this had missed their true calling; they should quit their jobs immediately and become holy men or hermits.

Still, I wasn’t going to take this lying down. I mustered my best puppy dog eyes. After magic, playing cute is my greatest talent.

“I know I’ve caused you a lot of trouble. But...” There, I strategically looked up into the innkeeper’s eyes and removed my gloves, then softened and pitched my voice up half an octave. “They would have killed us if I hadn’t done anything...”

Aha, it was working! I could see his anger deflate into nothing more than a displeased frown.

“So...” I pulled three small gemstones from my pouch, keeping my hand tightly closed around them so that the innkeeper couldn’t see what I was holding. “If there’s any way I can make it up to you...”

I then took his right hand with my left, pressing the gemstones into his palm. I still didn’t let him see exactly what they were, but he could take a good guess based on how they felt in his hand.

Key point here: Never avert your gaze! A pretty girl staring into your eyes with her small, warm hands around yours (this was why I took my gloves off)... Surely you can imagine how enrapturing this all was to him.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough, but... it’s the best I can do,” I continued, timidly easing my hands away from his.

He looked down at first, but upon seeing exactly what he’d hoped to see in his hand, he clenched the stones tightly.

“Well... when you put it like that, I can’t be too hard on you. I’ll hire someone to clean this mess up, so you can head back to your room.”

Score!

I bowed to him modestly—several times—then returned to my room with Gourry, who’d gotten off without so much as a single unkind word. The innkeeper apparently assumed I was the one responsible for all this... and, to be fair, he wasn’t wrong.

I’d been in my share of barroom brawls. I’d get thrown out on my ear on occasion, but I could usually smooth things over like I’d just done. Feels like the minute you hand someone a few gemstones, they think you’re a golden goose. And who tosses out their chance at golden eggs?

That said, if I’m asked to leave, I do so without a fuss. It’s not like throwing a tantrum gets you anywhere in that kind of situation.

“I’ve gotta hand it to you. You’ve got serious balls,” Gourry commented as I plopped down on my bed.

Pretty sharp of him to see through my act.

“Whatever do you mean?” I asked innocently.

...Wait a minute...

“Hey, Gourry! What are you doing in my room?!”

“You said you’d explain later, didn’t you?”

“Did I?”

“You did.”

Ah, fine. I had a few things I wanted to ask him too anyway.

“Okay, I’ll explain. But I need you to answer me something first.”

“Sure thing. What is it, little miss?”

“Actually, about the whole ‘little miss’ thing— No, never mind. Just sit down already.”

Gourry took a seat in the chair at the table, facing me.

“Okay, I’m sitting.”

“All right, here goes...” I stared at him long and hard. “Could you ever come to care for a girl like me?”

Man, you shoulda seen him freeze up! It was pretty funny... but I couldn’t just leave him like that.

“Just kidding! Just kidding!” I reassured him.

“Spare me the bad jokes,” he said with a long sigh. “You nearly gave me a heart attack...”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing... Now, what’s your real question? And just so you know, I never reveal my measurements.”

Apparently, it was his turn to dish out the stupid jokes.

“Don’t be a weenie. Okay, here’s my real question: How did you know those guys were after me?”

“I didn’t,” he said simply.

“Then what about what you said right before they busted into the inn? ‘I’ll get to see you in action soon enough.’”

“Oh, that,” he said flippantly. “I could feel an aura of menace around the inn. That meant someone outside was after someone inside. If it’d been burglars, they would’ve come in the middle of the night instead.”

“So what made you think they were after me specifically? Don’t tell me you’re working with them...”

“Let me finish already. I just figured that no matter who it was or what they were after, you’d end up getting involved regardless. You seem like a pretty soft touch, and more importantly, like someone who loves sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Er, I didn’t have a comeback for that one. He was spot on. Actually, I’ll leave it to you to decide whether I’m really a soft touch or not, but it’s 100 percent true that I love sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. My big sister back home used to say that about me all the time.

“So that’s that, then. Satisfied?”

“I suppose...”

“Now, do you have any other questions for me?”

“No...”

“Then it’s your turn to explain. What did you do to them, and why are they after you?”

I let out a sigh.

“Fine, I’ll tell you.”

I then gave him the rundown of how I’d ended up here.

It all started when I’d heard some local villages were suffering under the bandits’ reign of terror, so I went to put a stop to it. Then, while I was gathering up the loot they’d stolen, I skimmed a little off the top for myself. You know, like a commission. Apparently the bandits didn’t much care for that, and they’d been chasing me around ever since.

What’s that, you say? “I thought you attacked them because you were bored and broke?” Keep it down! That part’s just between us!

Okay, fine, so I was lying to Gourry. But what’s a story without a little artistic license, huh?

Anyway, once I finished telling Gourry my tale, he nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmm. Aside from the ‘doing it to help the villagers’ part, that all seems quite plausible.”

Erk! He really was sharp...

“Anyway, this has confirmed something for me too,” I said, quickly changing the subject.

“What?” Gourry asked curiously.

Not that I’d actually piqued his interest; I think he was just indulging me.

“I’m pretty sure they never saw my face when I attacked their base. Yet somehow they’ve been tracking me all this time. I thought that was weird, but lo and behold, they have a sorcerer on their side.”

“The guy wrapped in bandages?”

“Yeah. I bet he was injured during my raid, so he’s been out of action until today.”

“And he’s using magic to track you?”

“Exactly.”

“Huh... Magic really can do anything.”

“Not anything, really. There are things it can and can’t do. It’s more likely that the mummy man put a marking spell on one of the items I stole—or maybe all of them—and that’s what he’s been using to track me. Not even the best sorcerers can track someone down without any clues whatsoever, after all.”

“Oh, really?” Gourry asked, though he still sounded confused.

“Yes, really. Now, any more questions?”

“No, teacher.”

“Good. Then today’s—”

I was going to say “today’s lesson is over,” but before I could land the joke, there was a knock at the door. Gourry and I both sprang into action, taking up positions on either side of it. Gourry reached out and put his hand on the knob.

“Who’s there?” I asked.

“I came to make a deal. You have something in your possession that I want to buy. You name the price,” the visitor said from the other side of the door.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not surprised. I wouldn’t believe me, either. You’d have to be crazy to let someone into your room under the circumstances.”

Wow, really?

“Uh, thanks? I’ll be taking that advice and not letting you in, then.”

“Wait a minute! I know this sounds suspicious, but for the moment, I mean you no harm.”

Way to be obvious there, buddy...

“And your goodwill’s gonna expire the moment you step inside, right?!”

“I realize that it’s fruitless to tell you not to worry. But you have that impressive bodyguard of yours in there, don’t you?”

Gourry and I looked at each other.

“Just so you know... if you try anything fishy, I’ll personally show you the biggest attack spell I’ve got,” I warned the visitor.

“Wait, you’re letting him in?!” Gourry panicked.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got my impressive bodyguard in here, don’t I?” I said with a wink.

I then stepped away from the door and moved to the back of the room.

“Okay, we’re opening the door now. Come in quietly and don’t make any sudden moves. Do it, Gourry.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he complied and slowly opened the door.

The visitor entered...