Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I'm Stuck as Their Baby!-Chapter 182: One way to redecorate

It didn't pierce but it hurled him backward. The guard crashed into a tapestry of some long-dead Arcanum headmaster, tearing it from the wall with a sound like thunder and vanishing in a tangle of velvet and dust. For a heartbeat, everyone froze just long enough for Velka to shoot me a savage, satisfied grin.

"Well, that's one way to redecorate," she said, flicking another knife of shadow between her fingers. "Anyone else want to try their luck?"

The guards did not hesitate. Three surged forward at once, their movements eerily synchronized, like puppets yanked by the same, invisible string. Elira leapt to meet them, blades flashing, her ponytail whipping through the air in a streak of obsidian. Steel rang against steel, a sound so sharp it seemed to cut the very air. frёeωebɳovel.com

"Careful!" I barked, dodging sideways as another guard swung a staff at my head. I caught the blow on my sword and retaliated with a low sweep to the knees only to have my blade clang against some sort of invisible barrier. The guard's mask featureless and expressionless gave nothing away, but the staff whirled again, this time catching me hard in the ribs.

I grunted, biting back a curse. "Alright, you lot want to play rough let's play."

Velka was a blur of cloak and fangs, her shadows snaking along the ground. She ducked under a sweep of a halberd, sprang up, and kicked her opponent squarely in the helmet. The guard staggered, clearly not expecting a vampire to fight like a barroom brawler.

"Bet you regret skipping leg day now," Velka purred, baring her fangs.

A fourth guard darted for Elira's blind spot, but I was already there, slamming my boot into his chest. He staggered, but his grip didn't loosen on his weapon. He spun, sweeping the staff in a wide arc too fast. I ducked and rolled, feeling the rush of air above my head.

"Thanks, Mara!" Elira called out, twisting gracefully as she parried two blades at once. She moved like water, all flowing lines and ruthless efficiency. In another life, she'd have made an excellent assassin. Or a terrifying dance instructor.

Velka snapped her fingers. The shadows on the floor rose up, twisting into the form of a panther with eyes like dying stars. It pounced, slamming into two guards and pinning them with claws of pure night. The guards struggled, but the shadow-beast only pressed down harder, a silent snarl stretching across its inky maw.

"Show-off," I muttered, grinning in spite of myself.

She flashed a wicked smile, but there was a crack of electricity one of the guards aimed a rune-etched baton at the shadow panther, firing a bolt of blue-white lightning. The shadow creature shrieked, flickered, and dissipated into smoke.

Velka stumbled back, a faint scorch mark across her cheek. "Oh, that's cheating!"

"Everything's cheating unless you do it yourself," Elira quipped, not even looking back as she drove the hilt of her sword into a guard's jaw.

The guard crumpled, but two more closed in. One swung, the blow barely missing Elira's head. She sidestepped, pivoted, and kicked him so hard his mask spun halfway around.

I parried another strike, the jolt rattling my arm. "Anyone want to call a time-out and discuss this like adults?"

No one answered. The next guard jabbed at me with a staff tipped with something glinting—poison, or maybe paralytic. I spun aside, grabbed his wrist, and twisted. The staff clattered to the floor. With my free hand, I punched him square in the gut.

"Sorry," I said brightly, "internal containment protocol."

He wheezed, folding in half. Behind me, Velka was already on her feet, wiping away the soot from her face, her eyes burning brighter than ever. Her shadows coiled and snapped like impatient hounds.

She stepped forward, voice a low, dangerous purr. "Let's see how you like a little advanced shadowmancy."

A guard raised a shield rune, expecting a blast. Velka just smiled, all teeth and menace, and the shadows vanished from the floor only to erupt from the guard's own shadow, binding him in tendrils that yanked him off his feet.

He landed with a sound that was half indignation, half winded groan.

"I do love teamwork," Velka said. "Even when my team is mostly sarcasm and poorly concealed terror."

"Speak for yourself!" I shouted, ducking as a baton swung past my head.

Elira was weaving between two more guards, a storm of blades and fury. Blood trickled down one arm, staining the hilt of her sword, but her expression was set and wild with exhilaration. I remembered suddenly why I'd fallen in love with her, years ago, under far more peaceful circumstances her chaos was infectious, and in moments like this, she was absolutely alive.

"Having fun yet?" I called to her, parrying a blow and kicking another guard's shin for good measure.

She flashed me a grin, hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. "I haven't had this much fun since the last time you tried to cook."

"That was one time!" I protested.

The hallway was a mess now books scattered everywhere, a toppled suit of armor splayed across the tiles like a defeated golem, and one unconscious guard twitching gently under a shelf of alchemical treatises. The portraits on the walls seemed to glare even more fiercely, as if personally offended by the violence and the state of their corridor.

From the far end, a new group of figures appeared. Not guards faculty, maybe? No, these were masked too, but their uniforms were older, faded, ill-fitting. Their movements were stiffer, more mechanical. Golems. Someone had sent in magical constructs.

Velka groaned. "You have got to be kidding me."

One of the golems stepped forward, raised a hand, and sent a pulse of force rippling down the corridor. I slammed into the wall with a crack, my sword spinning from my grasp and clattering away. I heard Velka curse something involving twelve different types of fungus and then a thump as she landed nearby.

Elira braced herself, managed to stay upright, and caught a golem's punch on the flat of her blade. The sword vibrated, but she didn't let go. "New plan?" she called out.

"Survive!" Velka snapped, rolling to her feet. She kicked at a guard's knee and ducked a golem's wild swing. "And someone grab my left boot, I think it's stuck under that dead guy."

I dove, reaching for the boot—because, really, this was not the weirdest thing I'd done all week and narrowly avoided a golem's stomping foot. I retrieved Velka's boot, tossed it at her, and grabbed my sword from where it had landed.

"Thank you," she sang out, not missing a beat as she rammed her newly reclaimed boot into the nearest golem's groin. The golem, unfazed, grabbed her by the arm and hurled her across the hall.

She landed in a heap, groaning, "Okay. Ow. I take back every bad thing I've said about golems. They really do commit to the bit."

The real guards regrouped, forming a phalanx behind the golems. The corridor was now a battlefield bookcases leaning precariously, magical runes flickering along the walls, smoke curling up from a scorched tapestry. It smelled of ozone, sweat, and ancient dust.

I wiped blood from my lip, glared at the nearest golem, and charged. My sword sparked against its arm, barely leaving a scratch. The golem swung in return, its movements jerky but strong. I ducked under its arm and jabbed at a crack in its armor nothing. Not even a dent.

"Elira!" I shouted. "They're reinforced!"

She nodded, already sizing up the problem. "Hit the runes on their backs looks like the control glyph is there."

I didn't hesitate. I ducked around the golem, ignored the massive hands reaching for my hair, and jammed my sword into the glowing glyph at its spine. The golem seized up, convulsed, and collapsed in a heap of limbs.

"That's one!" I called, grinning.

Velka joined me, dusting herself off. Her shadows lashed out, slicing the control glyph on another golem. It staggered, turned in a confused circle, then flopped to the ground with a crash that made the floor shake.

"Much better," Velka said, fangs gleaming.

The remaining golems turned on us, one swinging at Elira with brutal force. She ducked, slid between its legs, and stabbed her sword upward into its glyph. It twitched and fell, nearly landing on her.

"Someone should really reconsider the budget for magical security," she panted.

Suddenly, a guard lunged at me, catching me off guard. I staggered, the world tilting, and only managed to keep my feet by grabbing a bookshelf. The guard pinned me, mask inches from my face, eyes blank and unseeing.

"For the Director," he hissed.

I glared back, headbutted him squarely in the nose. "Send him my regards."

He reeled, and I kicked him away, grabbing my sword.

At the end of the hall, Velka squared off against the last two guards, her eyes blazing, shadows swirling like a hurricane. She was beautiful, terrifying, and absolutely in her element.

The first guard struck with the baton; Velka caught it, twisted, and bent it in half with a shriek of metal. She tossed it aside, ducked under the second's wild swing, and grinned up at him.

"You're not even trying," she taunted.

The guard tried again. This time, she let the shadows swallow his feet, pinning him to the ground. The other charged, and I sprinted forward, slamming the hilt of my sword into his side.

He staggered then something cold closed around my ankle.

I looked down. A hand, pale and clawed, emerging from the floor a conjured spell.

"Not fair!" I snapped, kicking at it desperately.

Velka snarled, eyes glowing, and shadows ripped through the spell, freeing me.

"You're welcome," she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Remind me to demand a raise after this."

Elira limped over, blood running down her sleeve but smiling fiercely. "That's the last of them unless someone wants to summon a dragon for good measure."

From behind us, a door creaked open.

"Please don't," Velka said, deadpan.

We all spun, weapons ready. A small figure stood in the doorway, arms folded, eyes narrowed a child, maybe ten, dressed in Arcanum student robes two sizes too big.

She looked at us, looked at the carnage, then at the broken golems, and sighed.

"Honestly," she said, "I was just coming for a midnight snack."

We stared at her in silence.

"Do you mind?" she added, pushing past us and stepping over the unconscious guards as if this sort of thing happened every day. "You're blocking the pantry."

Elira blinked. "Is it always like this here?"

Velka and I exchanged glances.

"Yes," we said in unison.

And as the corridor slowly filled with the sound of approaching footsteps more guards, or perhaps something worse we readied ourselves, backs together, weapons raised, a strange little family in the heart of chaos.

The real fight, we all knew, had only just begun.