//------------------------------// // The Final Boss? // Story: The Changeling Who Broke The World // by Bucking Nonsense //------------------------------// "Master, I have news." Bias waited outside the Maou's door, his orb-like body hovering over the ground. While he doubted that his master would have cared overmuch if the elderly spectator had stormed in without even announcing himself (In truth, he found the thought of seeing the master unclothed nauseating. He'd preferred his mates much more spherical, back when he cared for such things), there was such a thing as decorum. Besides, given what was about to occur, he did not think that it would not do to be rude just now. ...After all, she would likely be dead tomorrow. Sighing, Bias silently fumed inside while he waited. Three years ago, the previous Maou had died suddenly, choking to death on his evening meal. While such things had happened before, it had never occurred so soon before a Yuusha's scheduled arrival. Usually, there would be no end of volunteers for the vaunted role in the aftermath, but with only three years before humanity's executioner came to end slayt heir leader, the number of volunteers was zero. Bias could not blame them, and did not wish to force anybeast to take the role against their will (After all, if the Maou fled, then there would be no end to the Yuusha's killing spree). So, desperate for a solution, he'd resorted to magic, and tried to summon someone from another world to take the role, someone who was in a situation where even three more years to live would seem a blessing. He'd succeeded in finding the perfect candidate, groomed her, prepared her for the fight ahead, and then... ...And then he'd grown attached to her. It was not unheard of. Unlike most beholders and most beholderkin, spectators were known to form friendships with other creatures from time to time. Sadly, one of the disadvantages to that was the fact that, due to their long life-spans, spectators tended to outlive a lot of friends. And unless a miracle happened, Bias would be outliving another today... "I'm decent," said a musical voice from the other side of the door. Bias made to open the door, then stopped. Suddenly, he found himself unable to face her. Closing his main eye, his four eyestalks turning away from the door, he said, mournfully, "The Yuusha chose to ride through the night, master. He will be here within the hour, instead of tomorrow morning." After a few seconds of silence, a chuckle came from the room beyond. "Well, I doubt I would have had much fun today, what with what I would have been expecting tomorrow." His tone carefully neutral, Bias said, "I could dispatch a few guards to the front entrance. It would delay him for a few hours, perhaps longer." The master, her tone quite cross, said, "And sacrifice their lives needlessly? No. I will be as ready within the hour as I would have been this time tomorrow. I will meet the Yuusha in the grand hall." With a surprisingly girlish giggle, she added, "Besides, don't be so pessimistic. Yuushas have been beaten before. You've said so yourself!" Yes, but in the last fifty thousand years, the Yuushas who arrived had only been defeated thrice, and of those three times, only once did the Maou survive the battle... and he'd died from his wounds a week later. Still, Bias kept his mouth shut. He knew that she was trying to keep his spirits up... Her tone much more optimistic than Bias felt is should be, Jacquelynn said, "Make the final preparations, and find a place to sit and watch. I promise you, win or lose, I will give you a show the likes of which will be sung about for ages to come. And I plan on being the one to do the singing." ----------------------------- While Jacquelynn definitely had butterflies in her tummy, it was no worse than what she'd feel before any other performance. The only real difference was that, if she died on stage this time, it would be a little more literal than before. Still, she was as ready as she would ever be. Checking herself in the mirror, she smiled at what she saw. Straight black hair went all the way down to her waist, framing a heart-shaped face with a button nose. She was still miffed a little bit by her red eyes (They were originally a sea green, but upon becoming the Maou, they'd turned red. It could have been worse: Becoming the Maou always changed the recipient of the title slightly, and she could just as easily have ended up with a horn coming out of her forehead), but she supposed that they gave her an exotic appeal. Tight leather pants, along a black hoodie, hugged a figure that most women would have committed bloody murder for. Admittedly, she'd not started 'blooming' until she arrived on this world, but a body like this was well worth the wait. In three years, she'd gone from a stick (Admittedly, given that she was six foot six at sixteen years old, she'd been an awfully a big stick) to a knockout, and now, at nineteen, she could have been a model or an actress, along with being a guitarist. Well, she could have, had she not ended up here. But she only had herself to blame: Three years ago, she'd gotten depressed (Long story, very sad, didn't want to dwell on it right now), gotten drunk, gotten on her motorcycle, and driven off with no destination in mind. She couldn't remember much after that until she realized that she was in the wrong lane, and about to collide head on with a semi-truck. It is amazing how quickly something like that can sober you up... and empty both your bowels and bladder at the same time. Sadly, there was less than a second before impact, and no time to do anything but scream. The last thing she remembered was a blinding light, and suddenly... Suddenly she was in the middle of what seemed like a Dungeons and Dragons cosplay convention. That was when she first met Bias, and a lot of things happened. In the end, it boiled down to something simple: The old boss had died, and no one wanted to be the new boss when it meant dying in just three years time. So, Bias and a few others had pulled her out of her near-death experience to do the one job no one else wanted. Well, grateful as she was, Jacquelynn had decided to oblige them. The trip, they'd told her, was one way. Even if they wanted to, they had no way to send her home. Just summoning her here had taken more strength than Bias and his companions had imagined possible, and it had nearly killed the lot of them. A return trip would be ten times harder. 'Jack' was stuck here, in a land of monsters, all of whom were willing to call her their master and grant her incredible power in exchange for facing off against the 'yuusha' that was going the be arriving in three years time. The monsters were desperate: The one time there had not been a Maou for the Yuusha to fight, said Yuusha had gone on a rampage, slaughtering thousands of monsters until a Maou was selected and sent to fight him. The title, it seemed, was all that mattered, and slaying the bearer of said title was the only thing that would appease this genocidal maniac. The monsters of the world had tried everything they could think of, but asides from sacrificing a maou to the sword of the yuusha, nothing worked. Dragons, beholders, mindflayers, they had once even tried a tarrasque, and each one had died, powerless against the might of the Yuusha. Given that the Yuusha bore three of the four Pillars Of Gaia, sacred artifacts that supposedly embodied all of creation itself, it seemed hopeless. Nothing on Gaia could stop the Yuusha... But Jacquelynn wasn't from Gaia, was she? Flipping her hood up so that it covered her face, she grinned (An enchantment upon the hood shrouded her face in darkness, so only two glowing red eyes and a white crescent of a smiled could be seen. The effect, she'd been told, made her look frightening), then reached over for her weapon of choice for this battle. Her electric guitar, which she had named named Halloween: The guitar she'd taken with her when she'd gone on her last ride. Her sixteenth birthday present from her brother, the last thing she'd received from him before his death. If she was going to go down, it was going to be with this in her hands... While it had been nothing special back home, she'd spent the last three years 'customizing' it. It was now its own self-contained sound system, and had more than enough mystical power inside to bring the house down, both figuratively and literally. Sadly, she no longer had her original pick (She'd forgotten to take it with her, sadly), she'd been able to fashion a new one with a black dragon's scale. While she'd been given a few other magical artifacts and weapons since her arrival, nothing else felt quite as good or as natural as strumming her guitar... and given that she'd turned out to be a natural at song spells, this made her already powerfully endowed guitar a weapon of mass destruction. Picking Halloween up and putting the strap around her body, she sighed at the feel of the familiar weight. If she was going to die today, she'd die rocking harder than she'd ever rocked before... -------------------------------- Forty-five minutes later... Strumming her guitar, 'Jack' sat in front of a mirror in the grand hall (The instrument could be a weapon of destruction at the flick of a switch, but until then, it was just an ordinary musical instrument). The mirror, she'd heard, was magical, but no one knew how it worked or what it did, other than the fact that it seemed completely indestructible. Still, she doubted that, whatever it was supposed to do, the mirror would be able to contribute to today's battle... Her thoughts were interrupted by a thunderous sound, as the great doors of the Maou's palace were blasted off of their hinges. Excessive, Jacquelynn thought to herself. The doors were not even locked, and would have opened easily at the slightest touch, thanks to enchantments that had been in place for ages. The Yuusha had not even bothered to try opening them normally first, but had instead blasted them open with a bolt of destructive force. ...Par for the course, from what she'd been told. Into the grand hall strode the Yuusha. She'd been given a briefing, as well as shown an artist's rendering of the last Yuusha, so she knew what to expect. He was armored in simple chainmail, with leather boots and gloves. He was tall, well over six feet, and superbly muscled, to the point of making most body builders envious. Yet at the same time, his handsome, clean shaven face had an almost effeminate beauty to it. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a long, strait nose, he was, from what 'Jack' had been told about the humans on this world, considered the absolute paragon of manliness. The Yuusha, her adversary. Her executioner. And he could not be any older than sixteen years of age Strapped to his right hip (Many Yuusha were left handed. No one knew why) was the legendary blade itself. Seemingly ordinary in appearance, it was only when it was in use that it became remarkable: The Sword Of Justice. A weapon whose blade could not be turned, and which could cut through any barrier, any shield, and and armor. The ultimate weapon. On his right arm was a golden bracer, which at will could summon forth an invincible magical barrier that was proof against any attack, whether magical or mundane. The Shield Of Purity. The ultimate shield. Around his neck hung a silver pendant, holding a brilliant diamond: The Eye Of Truth. A magical gemstone which granted the bearer mastery of magic. Healing white, destructive black, and much more, all were at the command of the Yuusha who bore this pendant. The ultimate power. Three of the four Pillars Of Creation. What the fourth one was like, and what power it granted, was unknown, but three were enough to make an already formidable warrior practically invincible... There's no way I can beat this guy, she thought to herself. She immediately quashed that pessimistic thought. She'd never win if she doubted herself. Standing up, Jacquelynn switched her guitar on, and readied herself, taking a few steps away from the mirror. The Yuusha met her gaze, and drew his sword... Then froze, his eyes widening, looking at something beyond her. Jacquelynn turned around, then looked up... and up... and up. Before her stood a gigantic figure in dark gray armor, a blue cape upon his back. The eye holes in the helmet radiated a cool blue light which, rather than being terrifying, seemed almost soothing. Still, he was gigantic: He had to be seven feet tall, at least! Looking down, trying put some sort of frame of reference to the creature before her, she had a startling realization: He was much more than seven feet tall, as he was on his hands and knees! The giant rose... and rose... and rose... until he reached a height of at least twelve feet tall (Almost as an after thought, a spritely young girl with purple hair that 'Jack' hadn't noticed before jumped down from the giant's back. Well, honestly, with something that huge, a dancing clown who was juggling monkeys might have gone unnoticed right now). Given his massive proportions, it was impossible to estimate his weight without using the word 'ton', even if it might have been an exaggeration. MIGHT. In a surprisingly worried voice, the titan asked, "Did we come at a bad time?"