VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 78

As the two made their way through a gap, progressing even deeper, it began to become clearer and clearer to the both of them that the company they kept could detriment their desires. Morality versus obedience. While they didn't voice it, both were quickly coming to the realization that very soon, they'd more than likely be butting heads—and quite possibly, even more than that.

Not a moment later, the tunnel opened up into a massive cavern, crystals of cool lights shimmering overhead, glistening brightly as a soft breeze rustled them gently, creating a chorus of peaceful chiming.

To Mosu, this place was magnificent. To Mióm, this place was a new battlefield. The both of them stopped when they saw the hunched over form of the turtle monster in the center of the room. He was facing them; in a seated position, eyes closed, breathing steadily.

"Think the old geezer died before we could take him?" Mióm joked.

"Monsters turn to dust when they die, so no." Mosu replied, and Mióm's grin faltered, clearly annoyed that he hadn't gotten the joke.

Mióm started to walk toward Gerson, one of her short sticks with the pink tips materializing in her hand, but Mosu held his left arm out in front of her over her chest, staring forward. "Wait," he advised, before addressing Gerson. "Do you know why we're here?"

Mióm's hand was quickly wrapped around Mosu's wrist, and he grit his teeth, trying not to show any signs that her ridiculously strong grip was threatening to crack his bones. Before things could escalate any further, Gerson spoke up. "I'm aware," he nodded solemnly. It appeared that the monster was meditating, eyes closed, the song of the crystals whispering through the cold cavern air, completely calm even when he was staring death down. "I was hoping to put up a fight against you. Alas, with age comes weakness. I'm in no condition to do battle."

"Good," Mióm stepped forward, but this time, it was Mosu's turn to grab her by the wrist, yanking her back to his side. A toothy grin was plastered on her face, eye twitching, patience worn extraordinarily thin already.

"Mosey," she growled in the fakest sweet voice he'd ever heard. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Don't tell me your feewings are stopping you from completing the mission?"

Mosu stared back as she ripped her wrist from his grip, the two glaring at each other for a moment, before he spoke, "You heard him," he stated, "he cannot fight. Look; he clearly doesn't lie. There is no reason to kill him, it's dishonorable."

"Mosey . . ." Mióm's grin took a sinister twist. "This isn't about honor, is it? Why—you're just a monster sympathetic, aren't you?"

"That's not-"

"You know what we do with monster sympathizers, don't you?"

Mosu glared, before the two acted in unison. His sword was partly unsheathed, but her stick was already being thrown, and it collided with his blade as it was part-way out of its scabbard.

An explosion rocked the cavern as Mosu was flung back, twirling in the air to land on his feet, skidding a meter or so back after he'd landed. While he had managed to unsheathe his blade, only half of it remained, the other half blown off in the explosion.

"We dispose of them." Mióm finished, twirling two new sticks in her hands with a glance to Gerson. "Stay put, the grown-ups have some talking to do."

"Consider me planted," Gerson replied.

"Mióm, don't do this," Mosu insisted, holding his half a sword in front of him. It would be twice as difficult to block Mióm's attacks now, but he'd trained extensively with this blade, and even if it was shorter than what he was used to, he was confident in his ability. "He's defenseless. We could capture him, maybe-"