Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 416 - Prongs

A thunderous crack split the air to Scarlett’s left as three trees were severed and toppled. She turned in time to see Carnwedain’s enormous blade cleave through the last trunk, bark exploding in splinters as Fynn drove a clawed strike into the knight’s side. The impact sent a shudder through the forest, followed by a gust of displaced air that tore leaves from the branches.

Carnwedain’s slitless helm tilted down towards the youth. One gauntleted hand shot out and closed around Fynn’s throat. Fynn snarled, bringing both hands up to wrench at the grip, but Carnwedain turned and hurled him aside.

Fynn’s body crashed through the undergrowth, snapping a thick oak clean in two before skidding to a halt across scorched, torn earth not far from Scarlett.

He spat blood and pushed himself upright.

Carnwedain advanced.

Scarlett raised a hand. Spears of water and flame formed around the knight in a tight orbit.

He stopped. His dark helm turned towards her.

She pulled one of Allyssa’s healing potions free and handed it to Fynn. He drank it immediately.

“State your purpose,” she said, her gaze shifting between Jestit and Carnwedain. “Or better yet, have Vior-Da-Zof explain it. Otherwise, neither of you will leave this forest alive.”

Neither moved.

Jestit’s hood angled faintly towards Carnwedain. The knight remained fixed on Scarlett.

She waited.

Jestit was effectively contained, and she was fairly confident that she and Fynn could at least subdue Carnwedain together. If necessary, the others could be called for help as well. What mattered now was understanding precisely why the Cabal had come — whether this was them outright trying to kill her, a warning, or something else.

Finally, Carnwedain lifted his sword and planted it tip-first into the earth, one hand remaining on the hilt. With the other, he reached into the folds of his tattered cloak and withdrew a reflective piece of grey metal. The [Mirror of Communion] darkened as fog churned across its surface.

Seconds passed before a sharp voice emerged.

“The Baroness is still alive, I presume?”

Scarlett’s brows rose slightly. She looked from Carnwedain to Jestit. Neither spoke.

“She is,” Scarlett said coldly.

A brief silence followed. Then Vior’s voice sounded out again. “We clearly underestimated you, Baroness. How many are dead?”

“All your Ascendants. Jestit and Carnwedain remain alive. For now.”

“And what killed them?”

“I did.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes.”

“…I see.”

The fog shifted. Scarlett braced, but nothing happened.

“You have my apologies for this misunderstanding,” Vior said. “If you would allow them to withdraw, we can make restitution.”

“You already owe me a debt,” she replied. “You expect me to overlook this without consequence?”

“You have already killed our Ascendants.”

“And by all rights I should execute your remaining agents, given that they trespassed on my land and threatened my people.” Her gaze hardened. “What did you intend to achieve? Have you decided to abandon the last pretence of restraint between us?”

Their truce had been fraying since their last encounter. She’d never fooled herself into believing it would hold indefinitely. The Angler Man had been willing to die at her hand before, and only Vior’s intervention had prevented escalation. If The Angler Man had finally decided that dealing with her outweighed all other priorities, today made sense. The Cabal didn’t have a proper measure of her strength, and it wouldn’t surprise her if they thought Carnwedain and Jestit would be enough.

She was simply relieved they hadn’t sent Vail.

“I merely wished to speak with you, Baroness,” Vior said.

Scarlett scoffed. “There were other ways to arrange that. Spare me the pretence. You sent your people armed and prepared for violence. That means you were prepared for what would follow.”

She took out the [Essence of Zenthas] from her [Pouch of Holding]. The putrid, half-crystallised heart writhed faintly in her hand, its stench sharp enough to wrinkle her nose.

She pressed the Athame’s blade to its surface. “I am prepared to end your leader’s life at any moment, if that is what you desire.”

Silence answered her.

Carnwedain’s helm dipped slightly as if observing the heart, unbothered by the spears of water and flame encircling him. Jestit stayed perfectly still.

When Vior spoke again, any veneer of civility was gone.

“Go ahead, Baroness.”

Scarlett narrowed her eyes.

She doubted he was bluffing. He was genuinely prepared to let The Angler Man die. But he also knew destroying the heart was her last resort. Once she did, she would be as good as dead. If the Cabal no longer valued The Angler Man’s survival above eliminating her, the heart would cease to be leverage.

At least, that was how it would have worked before.

She pushed the Athame’s blade into the heart. Putrid ichor welled at once, and a sickly pulse rippled through the clearing.

She drew the blade free.

The heart continued to throb faintly, even as more ichor seeped from the wound. That would have hurt the Angler Man, but it shouldn’t have killed him. Not yet.

“Are you hesitating?” Vior asked, almost challengingly.

The corner of Scarlett’s lip lifted in disdain. “I am considering giving you another opportunity to think. You appear to believe I am the one who cannot afford to follow through with killing The Angler Man. I assure you, that belief is misguided.”

She hadn’t been able to kill him before, true. Now, though, she had the means needed to survive the aftermath. That didn’t mean killing him outright was the best option. If she had time to use Slate properly, there was an alternative far more advantageous than turning the Cabal’s leader into a corpse.

“Now, state your true purpose,” she said. “If you are honest, I may consider leaving this matter be.”

Vior was silent for several seconds.

“Were you involved in the events that took place within Beld Thylelion?” he finally asked.

Scarlett’s grip on the Athame tightened.

So that was it.

They suspected her.

She’d worried this might happen. Even so, she didn’t think they had any direct evidence linking her to the ruins. She had killed every Cabal or Tribe witness other than Nol’viz, and she liked to think that the other groups aware of her presence there wouldn’t have leaked that information this quickly. If Vior suspected regardless, then either someone had spoken despite that, or he’d pieced things together from fragments.

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She couldn’t entirely dismiss the latter possibility. The Cabal would reasonably know that neither the empire nor the Undead Council had secured the Tribute of Dominion. That meant someone else had. Someone knowledgeable and powerful. And though she had never shown her interest in Beld Thylelion to the Cabal, it was likely they’d at least noticed her involvement with the imperial groups that tried to explore the ruins.

So was today about confirming whether she had been there? Whether she possessed the Tribute?

Maybe.

Regardless, she wouldn’t admit anything.

“I had no involvement in those events,” she said. “Not beyond what I presume you already know.”

“And what is it that we already know?”

“You should tell me.”

“…I will give you one last warning, Baroness. You do not wish to deepen this enmity.”

“Nor do you.”

There was a brief quiet, then a rough sigh drifted through the mirror.

“Very well,” Vior muttered. His tone shifted slightly, as though he was addressing someone else. “Yes, you can try — but you will have only one chance. I will carry out your will once it is done.”

Not a second later, a probing pressure brushed against Scarlett’s mind.

Her hand moved instantly, [Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame] slashing through the air.

“Fynn.”

A flaming tear opened beside her. The bloodied youth stepped through it without protest and vanished.

“…Once more…so quick…in sweeping away those lesser minds…” a hoarse, grinding voice slithered into her thoughts, sending a familiar revulsion crawling down her spine. “What secrets do they carry…that you strive to keep from me…?”

Scarlett clenched her teeth as The Angler Man’s presence pressed harder, trying and failing to dig into her mind. The voice frayed into a warped, scraping laugh.

“Your mind…stronger yet again. More guarded. How curious… What are you…?”

Almost instinctively, she conjured Itris’ white-blue flames along the Athame and pressed it to the [Essence of Zenthas]. A raw snarl cut through the laughter in her head — but it didn’t stop.

The madman knew this could kill him.

He knew, and he still pressed.

Either the Cabal had grown tired of being held hostage by her threat, or they were entirely convinced she possessed the Tribute.

It was frustrating. She had seriously planned to make the Cabal pay for everything they’d done. That would become far more complicated if she had to kill him today.

Carnwedain stepped forward.

Scarlett’s gaze snapped to him in warning, even as she maintained her hold on the magic around Jestit and pushed back against The Angler Man’s intrusion.

It was a lot. She’d grown far better at splitting her focus, in part thanks to her practice of the Stillwork of Shattered Glass, but this still strained her limits.

And the Angler Man would not stop laughing in her skull.

“Anger…anger…and resentment,” he rasped between pained breaths. “You wish me dead…so dearly.”

“And you evidently have no remaining sense of self-preservation,” she said through clenched teeth, refusing to let him dig deeper.

“What is there to fear?” he whispered, something disturbingly close to bliss threading through his tone as he grew momentarily coherent. “Fate, Baroness. Fate is dead. The false divinities tremble. The world shifts. You defied Fate once. You must have seen the truth. I do not matter.”

Scarlett froze for a heartbeat.

Then his voice slipped back into incoherent muttering as the pressure against her mind spiked.

“Open yourself… Let me see your truths… Once…just once…”

His words dissolved into further senseless scraping.

Scarlett pushed back, eyes sharpening on Carnwedain as he took another step. She wouldn’t be able to fight him properly like this. And there was no point in retreating. The Cabal had given up on their peace. Next time, they’d be back with greater force. It would be best to hurt them as much as she could here and now. To kill The Angler Man and these two with him, even if it complicated her plans.

Although…

Before committing to that path, maybe there was one last gamble she could attempt. One move that might buy her more time for the preparations she still needed.

She drew a slow breath. Closed her eyes briefly. Reached inward — to the legacy Thainnith had left her and the stolen power bound within it.

It stirred at her call. Strained upward, only to stop short, as if pinned beneath an immense weight.

Thainnith’s seal on the Anomalous One kept its power locked away from the Material Realm.

But that hadn’t stopped the Cabal from siphoning fragments of it to their own ends. And Scarlett had taken a good amount of the original’s power in Beld Thylelion.

If it was just for a moment, she believed she could force the seals back.

A flicker of grey-white light shimmered across the hand holding the heart.

The Angler Man fell silent.

The pressure against her mind eased.

Stillness settled through the trees.

The Anomalous power faded almost as quickly as it had surfaced.

Then the laughter returned. Crazed, triumphant, and almost euphoric.

“I see…I see…I see…so you were one of us. Stolen…power… It was you…in Beld Thylelion…”

Scarlett was caught off guard by the abruptness of the shift. She braced for the mental pressure to resume.

But it didn’t.

The Angler Man’s rambling collapsed into another stream of incoherence — then sharpened again.

“Vior-Da-Zof,” he rasped.

“Yes?” Vior answered from the mirror.

“Leave…her be…”

There was a long pause. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But the Tribute—”

“Let her…have it…” The Angler Man wheezed another laugh. “And…one request.”

“One request? Of what?”

“Anything.”

“…Very well.”

Scarlett stared at the metal mirror and the fog swirling across its surface.

What was going on?

Suddenly, she felt The Angler Man’s presence fade. It wasn’t withdrawing, but weakening. In her hand, the [Essence of Zenthas] dimmed.

“Another…slumber,” the voice murmured faintly in her mind. “If I still live…next time, Baroness…let us meet…let us speak…”

With those last words, the pressure vanished entirely.

Scarlett looked down at the heart. Damaged as it was, it didn’t feel dead. Had…The Angler Man entered into another slumber to survive the injury? And he wished to meet next time?

What was that about?

She’d thought he might recognise the Anomalous One’s power, so she could use that as leverage and buy some time. But this response went far beyond what she had expected.

He had realised she held the Tribute. That alone should have driven the Cabal to seize it at any cost. So why order Vior to stand down? Had he seriously mistaken her as being aligned with them just because she wielded the Anomalous power? But he’d recognised it as stolen, hadn’t he?

Her gaze lifted to the [Mirror of Communion] again. “Explain.”

No answer came for several seconds.

“You may keep the Tribute, Baroness,” Vior eventually said. “Allow our people to withdraw.”

“Not until you explain.”

“There is nothing to explain.”

“There is.”

“No.” An edge crept into his voice. “We will leave you be, for now. Do not force my hand. Let us end this here.”

“…What of the request he instructed you to give me?” Scarlett asked.

She might not be entirely sure what The Angler Man was thinking, but she wouldn’t waste an opportunity like that.

Vior hesitated long enough for her to imagine his teeth grinding. “What do you want?”

“What will you offer? Will you truly grant anything?”

He didn’t respond.

She considered. “If I demanded that you cease all aggressions against the Empire, would you comply?”

A few seconds passed.

“The Hallowed Cabal would, but the monsters already deployed will not stop, and the Tribe of Sin will continue their operations at their own discretion.”

Scarlett absorbed that.

It wasn’t too far off from a yes.

Which was insane.

But it was not the most impactful request she could make. Much of the Cabal’s offensive potential was already slated to weaken once the Empyreal Barrier was complete, and the Tribe of Sin held the greater numbers. Even without the Cabal’s direct support, the empire would still face significant threats.

If she wanted something simple, something they could fulfil cleanly, without loopholes…

“Then I want the Seal of Thainnith.”

The three seals were all that prevented the Anomalous One from being released and wreaking havoc on the world. The Hallowed Cabal held one, and the other two were in Mistress’ possession. Scarlett had never had any practical use for them beyond safekeeping until now, but with Slate…

Maybe that would change.

Though she seriously doubted Vior would agree—

“We will deliver it to you when we can,” he said.

Scarlett went still.

He was conceding that easily — because of a single command?

Even though he had previously defied The Angler Man’s order in order to keep him alive?

“I expect this is enough to earn your leniency, Baroness,” Vior continued. “We will retrieve our people. I will contact you when the seal is secured.”

The fog across the [Mirror of Communion] thinned, and the metal returned to its reflective state.

Scarlett stared at it, then looked to Carnwedain and Jestit.

A black void tore open a dozen metres away. Jestit glanced at it, then at the spears of water and flame orbiting her, then back to Scarlett.

“…Are you letting us go?” she asked thinly.

Scarlett watched her for a moment longer, then allowed all of her magic to collapse at once.

Jestit moved.

But Carnwedain remained.

Scarlett met his silent gaze. “Is there something you wish to say?”

The great knight shifted, his helm angling slightly towards the estate.

“…Nol’viz,” came a hollow, buried murmur, like the last breath of something old and unwilling to die.

“Are you asking if I have seen her?”

Scarlett was fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to sense the girl. She had been thorough in setting up the arrays in Nol’viz’s cell, and Slate had confirmed that the Cabal girl shouldn’t be able to communicate beyond them.

Was he asking simply because he knew Nol’viz had been in Beld Thylelion?

Why, though?

Carnwedain turned back to her and inclined his head.

Scarlett studied him.

“She is alive,” she finally said.

If they already knew she possessed the Tribute, concealing Nol’viz no longer mattered much. Not that she intended to release the girl any time soon.

Her attention shifted to Jestit just as the white-robed mage reached the portal.

“Wait.”

Jestit halted and looked back slowly.

Scarlett glanced at what remained of the dead Ascendants and the fallen imperial soldiers.

She supposed she would have to deal with those. But that would have to wait until later.

She pointed towards the estate, where the grey haze still lingered above the grounds. “Remove that before you leave.”

She still had no idea what the purpose of that magic was.

Jestit turned her hood towards the estate. After a moment, she shook her head.

“We didn’t do that.”

Scarlett froze.

Her eyes widened.

She finally realised that she hadn’t felt anything from the Loci since the fighting began.

What if there hadn’t only been one attack on her home today?