Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I'm Stuck as Their Baby!-Chapter 112: Subtlety Was Overrated Anyway

Whoever had kidnapped me clearly underestimated how irritatingly resilient I could be.

And I fully intended to teach them exactly how costly that mistake was going to be.

Huddled behind damp barrels that reeked suspiciously of moldy cheese and stale ale, I realized something important. Being subtle was exhausting. Tiptoeing around corners, hiding in alcoves, whispering sarcastically to the system I was officially done with all of that.

If I was going down, it certainly wouldn't be quietly.

"You know what?" I muttered aloud, standing abruptly, ignoring the painful ache in my legs and shoulders. "Forget stealth."

[Wait—what?] the system spluttered incredulously in my mind. [What are you doing?]

"I'm improvising," I said cheerfully, stepping out boldly into the dimly lit corridor. Magic surged beneath my skin, warm, eager, and decidedly fed up with restraint. "I'm tired, hungry, cranky, and completely out of patience. I think it's time they remember who they kidnapped."

[This seems reckless,] the system noted uneasily.

I smiled faintly, cracking my knuckles dramatically. "Exactly."

A group of guards appeared suddenly at the far end of the corridor, eyes wide with surprise as they spotted me standing openly in the hallway. For a heartbeat, we simply stared at each other, equally startled.

"She's here!" one of them finally shouted, voice shrill with panic, fumbling for his sword. "Grab her!"

"Oh, please," I sighed theatrically, rolling my eyes heavenward. "Let's not waste our time."

I raised one hand casually, magic erupting from my fingertips in a brilliant burst of violet and gold, a cascading wave of pure power that surged hungrily down the corridor. The guards barely had time to scream, tossed aside like rag dolls by the sheer force, armor clattering loudly against the stone walls.

"Well," I murmured dryly, stepping carefully over their unconscious forms, dusting off my dirty clothes disdainfully, "that felt satisfying."

[Subtlety really isn't your strength,] the system remarked dryly.

"I prefer the term 'boldly decisive,'" I retorted lightly, strolling confidently down the hallway, magic swirling around me protectively. "Besides, my MP is unlimited, remember? Might as well enjoy myself."

[Your MP is represented by question marks,] it reminded me warily. [That doesn't exactly scream reliability.]

I shrugged lightly, uncaring. "Semantics."

My magic flowed easily now, a torrent of energy that crackled and pulsed beneath my skin, eager and restless after days of confinement and pain. Every step I took felt stronger, every heartbeat steadier, exhaustion swiftly replaced by exhilaration. It felt good really good to finally let loose.

The alarm echoed harshly through the corridors, bells ringing frantically, distant voices shouting urgently, panicked footsteps racing toward my position. I smiled faintly, anticipation stirring within me.

"Let them come," I whispered softly, magic humming warmly between my fingers.

As if summoned by my challenge, another cluster of guards rounded the corner ahead, their faces pale beneath their helmets, swords shaking uncertainly in their hands. One of them stepped forward hesitantly, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Um—surrender?" he offered uncertainly, clearly more hopeful than commanding.

I raised an eyebrow skeptically, amused. "How about…no?"

Magic surged instantly, a shimmering wall of violet energy slamming into them with practiced ease, sending the guards sprawling unceremoniously across the floor. They groaned faintly, clearly rethinking their life choices.

"You know," I said conversationally, stepping gracefully over their tangled limbs, "kidnapping powerful eight-year-olds was never going to end well."

[You seem to be enjoying this far too much,] the system observed dryly.

"I'm embracing my inner villainess," I replied cheerfully, pausing dramatically to survey the chaos around me. "It's very therapeutic."

Another guard raced desperately toward me, sword drawn, panic evident in his wide eyes. Without even turning fully, I flicked my fingers lazily in his direction, magic effortlessly flinging him backward, crashing noisily against a suit of armor displayed decoratively against the corridor wall.

"Oops," I murmured innocently, shrugging lightly. "Collateral damage."

[You really have embraced this quickly,] the system noted, amusement coloring its voice.

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"I'm adaptable," I said breezily, turning another corner and immediately stopped short.

Standing there, rigid and unmoving, was the woman who'd so meticulously tortured me earlier. Her empty eyes widened fractionally, fingers twitching toward the knife she carried at her belt. My smile widened slowly, dangerously, cold satisfaction curling within my chest.

"Well, well," I purred softly, stepping toward her deliberately, savoring the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. "Fancy meeting you here."

Her hand darted desperately toward the knife but I was faster. Magic slammed around her instantly, invisible bonds tightening mercilessly, pinning her arms sharply against her sides, immobilizing her completely.

She gasped sharply, fear finally flickering openly in her expression.

"How does it feel?" I whispered quietly, circling her slowly, magic pulsing gently between my fingers, caressing her skin with an icy touch. "Helplessness isn't pleasant, is it?"

She stared silently, lips pressed into a thin, defiant line, eyes narrowing fiercely.

"Oh, you're no fun," I said mockingly, rolling my eyes dramatically. "Perhaps you'll be more cooperative now. Tell me do your employers keep any decent food around here, or is stale bread and dishwater your idea of luxury?"

She blinked once, clearly thrown by my sudden demand. "I—I don't know—"

"Wrong answer," I murmured, flicking my fingers lightly, magic tightening around her sharply, eliciting a startled gasp of pain. "Try again."

"Yes!" she gasped quickly, eyes wide with alarm. "There—there's fresh food upstairs in the commander's quarters. Fruits, meats, sweets—"

"Excellent," I said cheerfully, releasing her abruptly. She staggered backward, nearly collapsing onto the floor. "Bring it all to me. Now."

She stared at me in disbelief, confusion warring openly with indignation. "You…want me to feed you?"

"Yes," I said patiently, as though explaining something simple to a particularly dense child. "Consider it restitution for your earlier unpleasantness. Quickly now I'm starving."

For a moment, rebellion flickered stubbornly in her gaze. I sighed heavily, raising my hand slightly, magic pulsing threateningly. Instantly, she stiffened, nodding swiftly.

"Right away," she muttered hastily, turning sharply and nearly sprinting down the corridor, casting fearful glances over her shoulder.

[Did you just turn your torturer into your personal servant?] the system asked incredulously.

"Yes," I replied breezily, strolling confidently behind her. "It's all about asserting dominance."

The woman led me quickly through winding corridors, past panicked guards who instantly recoiled at the sight of me, pressing themselves fearfully against walls, clearly unwilling to risk my wrath again. It was deeply satisfying.

Finally, we reached an ornate wooden door, intricately carved and polished to a high shine. She pushed it open hastily, revealing luxurious quarters filled with plush rugs, velvet draperies, and a table laden with fruits, meats, pastries, and wine.

"Ah," I sighed happily, stepping forward eagerly, inhaling deeply. "Much better."

The woman hovered uncertainly near the doorway, shifting nervously. I glanced over my shoulder, smiling sweetly. "Don't go anywhere I might still require your services."

She paled visibly, but nodded stiffly, clearly unwilling to risk another display of magic. I settled comfortably into a plush velvet chair, selecting a perfectly ripe strawberry, savoring the sweetness bursting on my tongue.

"This is exactly what I needed," I said contentedly, pouring myself a small glass of sweet wine, sipping appreciatively. "Much more civilized."

[Enjoying yourself a bit much, aren't you?] the system remarked lightly.

"Absolutely," I replied cheerfully, taking another sip. "After the day I've had, I deserve this."

Footsteps approached rapidly from outside, urgent voices shouting frantically. I sighed deeply, setting my glass down with exaggerated reluctance, standing gracefully from the table.

The commander burst into the room, flanked by several terrified guards, his expression shifting swiftly from rage to astonishment as he saw me calmly sipping wine.

"You—" he spluttered furiously, cheeks flushed angrily. "What are you doing?"

"Eating," I replied serenely, raising an eyebrow in mild amusement. "I thought that was obvious."

"You'll pay dearly for this insolence," he growled dangerously, stepping forward threateningly.

Magic surged gently between my fingers, a warning hum of power crackling softly in the air. He froze instantly, eyes widening in sudden alarm.

"Careful," I murmured softly, smiling faintly. "I'm in a good mood for now. Don't ruin it."

His jaw tightened furiously, fists clenched tightly at his sides, but he made no further move forward, clearly wary of my power now.

I settled comfortably back into my chair, crossing my legs elegantly, raising my glass mockingly toward him. "Now then," I purred softly, voice dripping with sweet menace, "perhaps you'd care to join me for dinner. We have so very much to discuss."

[You've officially gone mad with power,] the system observed dryly.

"Maybe a little," I admitted cheerfully, sipping the wine thoughtfully. "But they deserve it."

And as I surveyed the panicked faces surrounding me, felt the exhilarating surge of magic thrumming beneath my skin, I knew one thing with absolute certainty:

I'd never felt more alive.