Sitting atop the rubble from Anselm and Quens battle, cold as it may be, I find myself feeling like a child waiting patiently for his mother while some sales man rambles on about some brilliant new toy, I should tell my mum to buy once she comes.
For the most part this is quite accurate as even now, when I asked him to give me and explanation for why in the hells his body, his immortal, invulnerable soul is not regenerating as fast as it should.
Normally, this wouldn't even be a discussion since he is quick to regenerate all limbs with my mana which keeps him physical. He could do this while summoned or be expelled and summoned wholly all over again.
But none of that's the case here, I've dispelled the spell and summoned him up again several times only to meet him with his arms still missing.
"It will regenerate, if you would just let me pray to Frozia." He says quickly. I've been dispelling him as quick as I can before he can utter the word near me.
But I'm tired, bored even. But mostly worried.
It may all seem like a minor setback but the very fact that I'm seated here in the aftermath of Anselms display waiting for Kaylin who may or may not be fit and ready to back me up in a battle against the Mayor, is very stressful.
None of this aligns properly with my original plan, and even worse, there are even newer wrenches in the plan. The largest being my body has had it's fill of filtered mana and can't rightly take anymore unless I want to see just how awful Leriva's experience was.
Although, her problem was mana exhaustion and cracked pathways. Mine iswell, I rightly don't have a clue what mine would be called.
And I'm not eager to find out either.
For the moment I've got to figure a way to end the Mayor with all the skills and spells I have in the cards right now. Most of the promising ones won't be able to be re-enacted because of my limited mana now but fortunately, I prepared a variety of 'Soulutions'
Hehe. Soulutions. Minus the two souls I'd been using for mana filtering and the one I used as a shield earlier, I've got three more specially modified souls and four plain ones that'll simply explode once I launch them at something.
So far so good I suppose.
"Asher!" Anselm yells in my ears, "Are you even listening to me?"
"Barely, all I'm hearing is Frozia this Frozia that. She sounds like an even worse patron God to have than Lotar, and I don't especially like that Wolf."
Looking down at me he huffs, an exasperated look on his face. I roll my eyes and throwback, lying on my back and getting as comfortable as I can on a piece of broken wood.
"Don't look at me like that, you're the one who became a hypocritic after drilling me on why it's bad to talk to strange white speech capable Wolves without you present. I thought you'd be smart enough not to talk to a freaking Snowflake!"
He stares blankly at me and I at him.
And neither of us can't hold it back anymore.
"Hahhahah!"
"Bwahahah!"
"There's got to be something really wrong with the both of us then."
"Or something really right." I chirp. Strangely at peace with everything crumbling around me.
"Should we go get Kaylin? I wish I could send her the Healing Dire." I mutter out loud.
Anselm shrugs, "She must be preparing something; besides, the Mayor isn't here yet."
"Which is very strange."
"Or a good thing, he could be afraid of us."
I scoff, "He threw Kaylin in a dungeon and left her there for days, chopped off the hands of the North's 'leader' killed the other men and somehow spared the women, relegating them to a lifetime in the dungeon."
Shaking my head, I add, "If anything it's more likely he's planning some kind of trap or waiting for us to come to him so we can fight on his terms."
"Anselm is right you know." A voice, strained comes from ahead.
I pull up to get a view, it's Kaylin. A smile creeps up on my face at the sight.
She's changed, though, she's wearing one of my clothes. Plain white shirt that stops just above her knees with sleeves folded several times over so they don't baggy.
"You're wearing my clothes." I blurt out.
She gives me a look, "Should I have come to you still smelling like the entire city's Sewage?"
"You still do." Anselm says without missing a beat.
Kaylin growls out a sarcastic, "Thanks, I didn't have a prominence of soap."
I shake my head leaving all the distractions behind. "Is this what you were doing? Showering? You know I could have died right? Heck Anselm lost his arm."
To this Anselm waves with what's left of his arm, with it in his sleeve it just looks like a child flailing in oversized clothes.
"If you had died against a few guards then you shouldn't be trying to fight the Mayor head on."
"He hired some Hunters." Anselm explains, "One of them punched so hard when I tried to catch it, it blew my arm off."
"Oh." She gasps, shocked, "Well, where are they, they're dead now right?"
"I killed the one who blew Anselm's arm off and recruited the others."
Her eyes widen and mouth drops, "Recruited? And you let them go?"
"Uhh, I have Shaco watching them, it should be fine."
"Well, they may or may not have escaped to the Mayor and reported their battle with you to him, not that he'll much need it."
I can't help feeling a bit distraught at her words, "Is he that powerful?"
She nods without a second to think about it, "Almost as strong as my mother. I think he might be an S-rank."
Uhhh