//------------------------------// // Chapter 49: Overkill // Story: Princess Essenta // by Pone_Heap //------------------------------// Wicked World Arc Delia’s eyes darted about. Behind her was part of the fractured company, the two unicorns incapacitated and Ama, Loress, and Wilka badly shaken. And further behind was the murdered unicorn family of whom had been made an example by Nuinhof’s stallions in service to the new government. Before her stood several dozen ponies, looking as afraid as they looked unyielding. Delia again recalled what Cassia had told her: outsiders and escapees would not be tolerated running free… not after what happened when Hagano the pirate escaped the country. The stallion that had addressed her seconds before pawed at the ground, snorting loudly, “I don’t know who you are or where you just appeared from, but I say again… Surrender now or face death.” A lot could be assumed—for what it was worth—just by looking around. Delia could tell none of these were the stallions monitoring the city… They’d already be set upon, dead, or captured if that was the case. Yes… For some reason only regular townsponies were out and about that morning… still... which was odd considering lunch wasn’t far off. The “squealer” certainly knew something unwelcome—her group—had appeared out of nowhere and had seen what lay at the edge of town. Maybe the stallions were as lazy and worthless as Cassia had described… but they’d likely be there in a few moments, with the commotion and the near-certainty the “squealer” would alert or had already alerted them. She had perhaps a minute to get herself and her five friends out of there... but what could a little Earth pony mare do against a mob?! A great deal, maybe. Surrender or die? Then and there, Delia determined they would do neither. They wouldn’t surrender—to be murdered or put into bondage—or straight-up die at the hooves of the citizens of Nuinhof, then and there. Delia had an idea—a fucking crazy idea that was both untested in current company and a life/death gamble—and realized she needed to stall; she needed to get her friends up and running again. She didn’t like the method of filibustering—at all—but thought she might have a chance with stirring up their plainly ragged emotions. It was worth trying and she gave them a mask of tragedy. “Why?!” Delia strangled out. This wasn’t what the townsponies expected to hear—not at all—and it bought Delia a few seconds. Delia saw she’d caught them off-guard, “Why’d you do it?!” The murmuring heard from the crowd silenced; they all looked about. What was this filly going on about?! The stallion that had been addressing her cocked his head, “What in the Hell are you saying, kid?!” He and a few others didn’t know what to make of Delia; perhaps she was crazy. “You ask ‘what’?!” Delia spoke to the stallion and the crowd overall, forcing anger and sadness into her voice, backing up closer to Dechaa and Zyra, “I’ve seen what you all do to travelers that you get ahold of… Murderers! What is it this family did to deserve being cooked alive…?!” The shocked lack of response could be felt from the ponies facing the company; they were jarred by Delia’s words. The former maid knew her idea was working; shocking them into hesitance and carelessness was her best bet. She remembered all the dirty tricks her dad taught her, all she learned under Melchior, and all the things she’d come up with or discovered herself… Ponies were easy to manipulate; she hated herself for the hurt in the eyes of the townsponies but… Hell, she wasn’t dying for these assholes or going into slavery again… and neither were her friends. “Which of you animals raped that filly?!” she cried out, lunging forward and managing actual tears. If the crowd looked hurt before, they were wounded at that. Granting her a few seconds, Delia glanced back. She saw Ama was regaining her wits… But Loress and Wilka were still worthless. She needed at least Ama and Loress to recover their senses. A mare near the front of the crowd goggled at Delia, unable to register what she was hearing, “What did you say…?” Delia’s sobs came easily enough—she wasn’t entirely acting, “How many days did you have her chained up out here…?! Raped and beaten! How many weeks?!” Another stallion was flabbergasted, “You… How dare you-?!” “You animals!” Delia screeched to the aghast ponies. “Could you stand the smell?! I bet an east wind had you puking your guts out!” The mob gave a gasp at that; the harshness in Delia’s voice further set them off-kilter. The former maid cautiously moved towards Dechaa, unsure how much longer she could keep the ponies at bay. Glancing back another time, she was relieved to see Ama sharp-eyed again; she waved a hoof—a barely noticeable gesture—and Ama returned another. Delia kept going, now cradling Dechaa, feigning tending to her friend, “How many of you took turns raping that filly?! Was it before or after you burnt her family alive on that pyre?!” The ponies actually shouted in protest at the latest line; a mare stood forward, “We didn’t do this, you little cunt!” Delia heard others; they were upset, but not ready—yet—to attack. “We loved this family!” “None of us did this!” Yes… Delia saw opportunity rising. Hating herself even more, seeing the town so offended by her words, she wouldn’t let up. The gamble hadn’t failed yet, but it was wearing thin. Glancing back, she saw that Ama had roused Loress. Wilka wasn’t all there, but it was good enough. The girls had never discussed “silent signals for getting out of sticky situations” but Delia figured Ama and Loress—one or both—would get her meaning. Delia waved her tail towards the southwest; that was the direction they’d run. Nuinhof was nestled in the jungle on three sides: north, south, and west… The eastern part of the city gave way to fields and orchards. To the now-furious crowd—probably close to blowing up on her—Delia again addressed them; she had to trust her friends would understand, “So what about the smell?! If you didn’t notice it, you must’ve seen or heard it! Don't you have eyes or ears? Did you cover them up?!” In the crowd, numerous sparking horns could be seen; they were just about at the breaking point. “What do you know?!” “You asshole!” Delia saw her window was close; she slowly turned Dechaa’s head towards the center of the crowd. More could be heard. A crying foal pronounced, “Eirene was my friend!” “Don’t talk like you understand!” screamed another. Bracing a foreleg behind Dechaa’s head, Delia spat, “I understand plenty…!” Delia understood a lot about anatomy… and how to manipulate the body. Not only could one suppress a unicorn’s magic… one could send out an uncontrolled blast of it. All it took was prodding the correct nerve. Shutting her eyes and putting her free foreleg over her ears, Delia bit down hard near the base of Dechaa’s neck, still bracing the head. There was no way of guessing the level of power this might unleash. Delia hadn’t been sure what Dechaa might produce, given such prodding. She suspected Zyra would produce some sort of flame; unicorns usually gave off the sort of magic that came most naturally to them when goosed in such a way. Delia’s hope was Dechaa would give off something in the vein of healing magic—maybe overwhelm the crowd with “calm”, temporarily turning their brains to mush or sedating them so they could escape without hurting anypony too badly. Whatever, she’d figured it would manifest itself brightly or loudly which is why the girls protected their eyes and ears. But Delia couldn’t have been much more wrong about Dechaa’s forte. The healer was highly skilled—one of the best—with medicinal magic... In all fairness, most would never assume her true talents lay in concussive magic. CRACK! Dechaa sent out such an incredible amount of energy, it lifted both her and Delia from the ground, sending them back several yards, almost bowling over their companions. The sound was incredible, shattering windows for blocks and blocks. The force of the concussion was incredible, bending steel and fragmenting stone and brickwork. Fissures appeared in the ground and the city shook. It was a good thing Ama and Loress had protected their own heads—and Wilka’s. The fact Zyra lay directly beneath the source of the blast saved her. Hopefully, Dechaa’s own magic wouldn’t break her. The same couldn’t be said for the ponies facing them. The blast wrecked them. Of those outside of the direct path of energy, all were stunned… many suffered ruptured eardrums… some saw their eyes blown from their sockets. Those in the path were killed instantly, hit by the unbelievable whock of power. Their bodies crumpled and many burst open or saw hide peeled away from flesh due to the shock. At least half the crowd was dead. Others lay, shattered, screaming… Delia was stunned a few seconds, but Ama and Loress were ready. Fully aware of the horrors just unleashed, neither mare would see the opportunity pass; they were shocked enough they managed to let what had just happened slide. Ama tossed Wilka over her back and Loress hauled Delia to her hooves. Delia shouted in her excitement, “Loress! Grab Dechaa! I got Zyra!” And it was so. The three mares ran west, into the city, determining it was better than immediately entering the jungle—they needed something. The “something” was quickly found: a wagon. Less than 30 seconds had passed since their “flash-bang” getaway. “Ama, hitch up!” Delia ordered, tipping a few jugs of milk to the road. “Loress, help me with the girls!” Wilka was fine… at least physically; they only had to guide her onto the wagon, but she wasn’t there mentally, having checked out. The unicorns were still deadweight and needed to be heaved on. Delia, still a little wobbly from the blast, fleetingly hoped Dechaa’s neck was okay. The former maid hopped aboard the wagon, holding the unicorns securely, “Ama, you pull. Loress… take point; it’s not far back onto the trail we took in if we enter that small path straight ahead!” Ama and Loress saw the path: it was well past the western edge of town. Delia had taken in the layout of the city. She knew pulling a wagon south of the city wasn’t safe. She recalled a swamp was there; the swamp hadn’t been on her mind, moments earlier, in her desperate plan to escape. This meant they had to escape through the city… and it was more than a few blocks to the jungle. And the city knew they were there.