The Chimeric Ascension of Lyudmila Springfield

Chapter Seventy-Seven: Authorized Mercenary

Morning came before I knew it, but I had already been up for a few minutes before Tilde slowly stirred awake. She immediately realized I was warmer than usual.   

“That’s because I’m heating my blood. You wouldn’t want to wake up cold, would you?”  

“Nah. Being warm is the best… especially when you’re my Master-sized personal heater.”  

“I’m glad you love me that much to grant me my most precious title yet.”  

“Hehe! Good morning, Tris!” Tilde sat up and yawned, stretching her arms and wings. “Wow… You don’t really have to worry about bedhead, do you?” 

“I do not,” Tris replied, wishing us a good morning. She stared at Tris and kissed my cheek before laying back down. She said it was too early to get up and wanted to be lazy for a little bit. 

Unfortunately… 

That wouldn’t happen.   

 “Oh? Gretchen has dispatched messengers to fetch her advisors, and a carriage has left the Ministry. I presume she'll request your immediate attendance.”  

“You know what this means if you help them, right?” Tilde asked. I nodded.  “Okay, I wanted to make sure. What are you going to do if they can’t find a buyer? Still gonna offer your assistance?” asked my fairy.    

“That’s the plan. I gotta protect my family. My talk with Irisa can wait until I return.” 

“This might be morbid, but chimera excel at this stuff. With your clones and Tris’s ability to download visual data, you’re the master of espionage. Add in [Skyview]? Or [Wilted Rose] and [Lavender Kiss]? You used them to kill Oswell's group.”  

"You do have a point. I could walk in and take out Atrix's leader, no problem. I know I can do it, and nothing could stand in my way. But rushing into things isn't wise. I need to strategize and come up with a plan of attack first. Killing Lord Atrix might create a power vacuum, or some other city-state could interfere. If they had an agreement, we might end with a two-front war. And even then, my presence might not be necessary to resolve this."   

“Mmmn… You never fail to surprise me. You have a smart head on your shoulders, Master. It's pretty, too. Arrogance and cockiness? Those lead down slippery slopes to a thing called death.”  

“Yeah… I try to avoid that. Living is much better than being dead.”  

“It’s because I’m here, right?”  

“I can safely say you’re part of the reason. Tilde?”  

“Yeah?”  

“I’m…kind of hoping…it turns into something bad.”  

“For Sekh?”  

“Yeah. I need to get stronger. I need more SP. I need a lot of things. And if this turns into a war, it’ll be the perfect excuse. Bounty hunting won’t cut it. It’s too slow. I don’t want to rush. But I don’t want to wait. And this genuinely seems like the opportunity I needed.”   

“War is war, Master. You may hold sway and influence over them in the future, but this will happen with or without your input. Honestly? It’s probably already been decreed. With Parthina, it’s hard to predict how they’ll act. The whole Vestige and meteorite fragments are…rather unique. It’s odd and cultish. And I don’t even understand it all myself.”  

“Wishing for war isn’t moral. But you’re right. It’ll happen with or without me. And… I suppose I can’t always choose the moral high road. Not when I have my revenge in mind.” 

Tris estimated our escort would arrive within twenty minutes, so it was time to get dressed. 

“I didn’t say it before, but this outfit is really something. It seriously looks amazing on you,” Tilde said, playing with my sleeves. 

“You like it?”  

“Totally. It’s powerful. It’s sexy, but it’s not lewd. It’s tasteful and reserved. And it’s so soft. If nothing else, Susize and the others knew how to throw together a fit.” 

“I’m glad you approve.”  

We chatted on the bed about Sekh and held hands until Delouise knocked at the door.   

“Just focus on the meeting, Master. I’ll handle things here.” 

“Sounds good to me. Tris, Surtr. It’s time to move.”  

“Yes, my lord.”  

“Lead the way, Lord Springfield.”   

---

“Lord Springfield! I hope this morning has found you well!” Gretchen said when I walked into a meeting room with Tris and Surtr to my left and right. Every chair but two was filled, and all eyes were immediately drawn to my lion.   

“It has,” I replied, wishing her, Captain Caulk, and the others a good morning.   

One by one, the strangers I didn’t know introduced themselves.    

General Fruide—a human with green braids and pale skin—had overarching command over Plymoise’s entire military force. His ornate breastplate featured symbols of power and leadership. Those pauldrons he wore contained sharp edges, providing additional defense for his shoulder and upper arms. His gauntlets had padding around the knuckles, and his belt carried pouches, holsters, essential tools, a few scrolls, and a ceremonial dagger forged out of some green-tinted steel. His bracers were enchanted with magical defense. The knee-length dark green cape was lined with gold trim. I thought everything would’ve been green, like everything else I’d seen in this verdant wonderland. Well, his polished greaves and boots were tinted green.  

Captain Morgan was a Nekofolk with two green tails. He led the ground forces like Captain Caulk led the city-state’s navy. Captain Morgan wore gleaming plate armor adorned with emblems of courage and unity. The sturdy pauldrons and gauntlet contained intricate engravings of a green shard, which I presumed to be what the Vestige looked like. A pair of polished wands were securely attached to his hips, and a long, flowing cape of deep green fabric rested against his back. There was no sign of any gold.  

Vauche was a stubby gnome with a thick green beard. He had the title [State Historian] and was the master record keeper for Plymoise—as evidenced by the pile of books in front of him. He looked and dressed like a scholar, with brown robes highlighted with green swirls going down the sleeves.    

Verdant Sneakshadow, a Forest Elf with a mask over the bottom half of her face and green tattoos down her right arm, was Plymoise’s spymaster. Her attire suited her role and was a testament to her affinity for the forest and her dedication to the art of espionage. Her tunic seemed to be tailored from soft, moss-green fabric. It hugged her lithe body, allowing her to move swiftly and silently. Unlike the others, her layers of intricately designed armor were made of leather to enhance her flexibility. A hooded cloak weaved from thin, green fibers cascaded down her back, its rich emerald hue a striking contrast against her dark hair. It draped around her like a shroud of secrecy, concealing her movements and intentions. Her boots were enchanted with {Silent Step}. 

There’s so much green... I get the reason behind it, but there’s so much!!!  

“And I’m Lyudmila Springfield. This is Tris, my advisor. My spirit is Surtr, and I’m sure Captain Caulk has briefed you on his power.” I bowed, showing grace and elegance, before sitting. Karen Barclay—Erin’s mother—knew a skill called [Etiquette], which I obtained for purchasing after assimilating her. Tris suggested it wouldn’t hurt to buy it, so I pumped some points into it until it was Lv. 4.   

“I presume you understand why you’re here?” asked General Fruide.   

“My mother met with Lady Plymoise yesterday at my request, so I’m aware of it. Have you given any thought to my assistance?”  

“About your offer… It doesn’t make sense, Lord Springfield,” said the historian. “There are things I do not understand.” Vauche flipped through a book and read a passage about the Springfield Forest. The clan was thought to have gone extinct, and the forest’s location was lost to time or destroyed in some natural disaster.   

“The location must remain secret, but it’s still here. Would you care to get a Scan Stone? I don’t mind if you need to verify my claims.” Tilde told me it still existed 10 years ago, so I went with it.   

Now… Do I keep Vredi as my middle name? Is it…worth it? Wait, I can play this to my advantage… okay, yeah. That’ll work out. I’ll get more leverage, too.   

“I don’t think—”  

“No, I insist, Lady Plymoise. I’m a woman who values honesty in her dealings. If there is to be trust, a hint of doubt—no matter how small—cannot remain to cloud our words.”  

Gretchen nodded and sent someone to fetch one, and they returned in less than a minute.   

“Lyudmila Vredi Spring—Vredi?! Lord Springfield, you—” Gretchen nearly dropped the stone from her surprise, and the murmurs didn’t stop at her. “Then the…”  

“Yes. That’s correct. When I told you that Bellerophon in Ria was willing to kill a High Elf from Vredi... I was talking about myself.”  

“But I don’t understand. Why do you need us to find a buyer? Why not return to your kin?”  

“Because it’s not that simple,” I said, telling another lie. At this point, I didn’t even know if this shadowy falsehood matched what I told Aello in Aetos Village. But to summarize this lie, I said I was born 1,000 years ago in Vredi Forest. Something awful happened that required me to be in stasis. A thousand years passed, and I awoke in the Springfield Forest. It was a second birth, which granted me the Springfield last name. “I was a secret. No one knew I existed. I would be treated as an outcast, and all I have to my name are these ceremonial burial garments Lord Amos crafted for his five Soul Warriors. I’ve been lucky to escape the use of a Scan Stone until now, but I hope you understand why I cannot announce myself as a Vredi. It’ll cause trouble. My mother attempted to sell the garments on my behalf, but her reputation and outreach weren’t enough to attract a buyer.”   

“It’s a tremendous story!” gasped the historian. He stuttered over his words at this discovery and said record keepers would pay a lot of money to learn what I divulged.    

“And I trust you to keep it to yourselves. Do not make me regret putting my trust out there.” I believed it would work out my way regardless of if this leaked. By all accounts, I had the Vredi name. In this world, you couldn’t fake that.   

It was impossible.   

Therefore, it would always be accepted as the ultimate truth, no matter what.   

To everyone, I was Lyudmila Vredi Springfield—an amalgamation of the Vredi and Springfield Forests. I was the impossible given form. 

And it was all thanks to [Status Cloak]. It was such a powerful skill.   

“Ye—Yes, of course, Lord Springfield. Pardon me for my outburst.” Vauche bowed his head and apologized.   

It wasn’t sincere. Tris telepathically said she’d keep an eye on the shifty-looking fellow.    

“I believe the best way to sell them is to contact any remaining Vredis. As I’ve said, I cannot be the one who reaches out to them, and they cannot know I exist. Give me your promise and a contract, and we’ll have a deal.  I’m willing to go to 15%.”  

“Contacting a Vredi is far easier said than done,” said Gretchen.   

“Then a promise on paper is enough to suffice me. Should a Heptarchis be called, I assume that’ll make the task easier?” Gretchen nodded. “Then let us hope that’ll be the case. Tris, show them the cannons.”  

“Cannons? Here? What do you—What?! Where did they come from?!” Captain Morgan slammed his hands and stood up when the cannons I stole from that pirate ship popped up out of nowhere.   

“I’ll throw in the cannonballs, too. I intended to put them on my vessel, but Surtr is more than enough. Give me brass, iron, steel, glass, and firesalts, and you can have them.”  

“Your—Your generosity is otherworldly,” said General Fruide.   

“I assume we have a deal?”  

Vauche, the record keeper, shook his head. He was the smartest one here who wasn’t named Tris, but he couldn’t accept it. He figured there was something else at play.   

“The wisdom of a High Elf surpasses that of a gnome. Our perception is elevated, and our thoughts are expansive. Time flows differently for us, unfazed by its passing. We possess foresight that spans not just months or years but decades and centuries. My reasons are not understood by most. Should you grant my request, I assure you that Plymoise will emerge victorious in this war should it become one.”  

“That’s assuming a Heptarchis isn’t called. Lord Springfield, please forgive Vauche’s outburst. He’s a man of logical thinking. ‘Going against the grain,’ as one might call it, is tanta--”  

“Lady Plymoise!!! Lady Plymoise!!!!” The door burst open, causing us all to turn around to find an exhausted, tired messenger. He ran towards the table with a letter raised. On it was a seal belonging to the council in Orchta. Gretchen snatched it from his hands and scanned it, the color draining from her cheeks.   

“This cannot be! The Heptarchis? Why would they deny it?! It doesn’t make sense!!” 

My lord, that soldier…  

I know.  

“Are they mad? Orchta must know how deadly conflict can be. If they can peacefully resolve this, as they had done many times before, why—Lord Springfield?! What are you doing?!” General Fruide started ranting, but when I stood up and summoned my rifle, he just about lost it. Right away, Captain Caulk drew his sword and protected Gretchen. Vauche went under the table, and Verdant had a dagger against my neck in the time it took to breathe.   

Surtr was still laying down, as per my commands.    

“That guard isn’t from Plymoise.  

“That’s madness!” cried Captain Morgan. “His name—"  

“Gordon? No. That’s a mimic. It’s a monster masquerading as your soldier. Don’t believe me?” Without waiting, I fired and struck the false bastard in the shoulder. He slammed into the wall and angrily morphed into a flesh-colored blob of teeth and claws.   

Amid the confusion, Surtr launched and tore into the mimic, ripping it to bloody shreds. Fifteen soldiers rushed into the meeting room with their weapons ready.   

---

“I don’t doubt the letter’s truthfulness,” I said after the excitement died. “I’m certain it’s legitimate. That mimic’s been here for a few months. Perhaps even a year. It depends on how Atrix viewed this war and how long they prepared for it. I presume it intended to kill you while we were distracted with the letter’s contents.”   

“If our ranks have been infiltrated, there must be more than one! Lord Springfield, how did you know?”  

“Tris specializes in seeing through trickery and discovering the truth. As it stands, there are most likely more within the city. Grant permission, Lady Plymoise, and I will hunt them. If you remember our deal, that is.”  

Gretchen gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. She asked to have some time with her advisors, and I acknowledged. Tris, Surtr, and I spent twenty minutes in the lobby while I marked waypoints on the targets.   

Once I was called back in, I was given five contracts to sign. Four concerned the clothing and trading cannons for supplies…but the last time?  

“You want me as a mercenary?”  

“That’s correct. You’re with the Bloodhounds, yes?” I nodded. “After the assassination attempt on my life, we cannot pull punches. We’ve also received more information. Captain Caulk?”  

“Lord Springfield, recall the pirate ship you destroyed. After interrogation, the captain you captured confessed Atrix paid the pirates to lure me away into an ambush.”  

“Perhaps they were attempting a blitzkrieg? It’s a lightning-fast military tactic characterized by swift and overwhelming attacks using combined arms to disrupt and encircle enemy forces, aiming to achieve rapid territorial gains through speed, surprise, and coordinated assaults. If you died, the mimics would’ve acted in the chaos. Once they did, Plymoise would fall like a stack of bricks. Since you’re alive, things have changed.”  

“…I cannot doubt your words. We were close to falling for their trap.”  

“Tris, stay here and help come up with a plan. Lady Plymoise, please give her any information you can about Atrix’s capabilities and documents concerning your navy’s strengths and weaknesses. Surtr, come with me.” Send a waypoint message to Mom and the others.    

Right away.   

“I’ll return within the hour with proof of my work.”  

“That fast?”  

“Yes, that fast,” I replied to Verdant. Her mask fell to her chin, revealing green clovers tattooed on her chin.   

---

When it came to assassination, a chimera had no equal. They could assume infinite forms and close the distance without you knowing. 

Even if your target was a housewife pretending to be a mother…you only needed a clone to take the form of a random child to lower their guard.    

Even if your target looked like a child gleefully running around the city without care…you only needed a clone to take the form of an animal to lead them to a dark alley.    

Even if your target worked at a café with a dozen people…you just needed to create a fake disturbance to separate everyone before running a knife along their throat.    

Even if they were the beloved pet dog of a family…   

Even if they were Atrix’s ambassador to Plymoise… 

Even if they were anything at all…  

My targets were monsters. Mimics could be trained like animals and given commands. Should they assume a humanoid form, speech wasn’t out of the question. But they died all the same. Often pathetically, too. And they were much weaker than the one responsible for taking out Gretchen.    

And my clones were dangerous. The more I took out these monsters, the more I truly understood why Bellerophon worked extremely hard to ensure chimera never had a chance to assimilate a slime.   

It was downright powerful in the right hands. You could accomplish so much without ever putting yourself in danger.  

During the invisible chaos that no one else was aware of, I took a leisurely stroll around town with Surtr, who found it discouraging he couldn’t fight.   

I told him his power would be needed shortly, which satisfied him. 

Assimilating a mimic granted me nothing but a weaker shape-shifting skill.   

I returned to the ministry within thirty minutes. I laid the flesh-colored blobby carcasses out on the meeting room’s floor when I was let in.   

Maybe they saw how little effort this task took from me. Was that fear in their eyes?  

After they accepted the proof with their eyes, I told Surtr he could have a snack. He obliged and devoured the pile down his mighty gullet before cleaning his paws.      

After Tris requested access to Plymoise’s maps and records of any war Atrix had been involved with, she focused and crunched the information. The math Tris calculated was child’s play to her, but it was probably pretty advanced to the people here.   

"My lord, there are three likely locations to monitor. Atrix's navy appears formidable, hinting at a naval bombardment. They might position themselves about here—close enough for their superior ships to act swiftly, yet beyond Plymoise's patrol reach. My calculations are based on parameters and ocean patterns. The Mengoire, Plymoise's fastest ship, becomes the slowest with Atrix's vessels factored in. As for Atrix's trade, since Holy Lord Gloria closed the Mines of Gamor, they must have engaged with another city-state, although I lack concrete proof and export records for precise armament assessment." 

“And the next?” 

"Approximately 150 miles away lies Tiran's Crest, a deep valley with Atrix-guarded bridges as the only safe passage. Their mastery of fog-inducing magic, as seen in the naval ambush, has caused three years of perpetual haze surrounding the valley, which isn’t easy to maintain. While it may seem a stretch, if their aim is to claim Plymoise’s Vestige, they may deem this effort worthwhile. Their overconfidence in victory likely didn’t account for setbacks. Following the recent assassination attempt, I anticipate action within the next fortnight; delaying longer risks losing the upper hand. It remains uncertain whether they’re aware of the mimics’ failure.” 

“And the third?”  

“I…am not sure yet. I do not have enough information to draw that conclusion, but I know there is something I am missing.” Tris removed her hat. Her ears folded against her head.   

“You did good, Tris,” I rubbed her head and watched her cute smile. “Anyways, you heard her, and I recommend you heed her advice. As for myself…I might go hunting.”  

“What do you mean?” demanded Gretchen.   

“I mean what I said. I need to pass through Tiran’s Crest to reach their city-state. Sever the monster's head, and the war shall crumble. Should there be multiple heads, I will cut them all. Remember. My family is staying at the Waterdale Inn. Anyone daring to raise an arm against us will meet the harshest death.” 

Guess I’m heading there anyway. This isn’t a full-blown war, but I can work with this. Soldiers are fair game. Their life force would serve me well. And I know I could kill Lord Atrix and replace him with a clone long enough to set up peace talks. I could easily handle it without any risk, but…  

…I don’t want that. Let me feed on soldiers. Let me assimilate. Let me grow stronger. I cannot pass up this opportunity, even if the morally correct choice is to bring peace as soon as possible.    

“Your words hold merit. I feel it’s a blessing you showed up when you did, Lord Springfield. Captain Caulk. Head to the shipyard and tell the men to pick up the pace. We need worthy vessels if we’re to defend our sea. Verdant, use your contacts in Atrix and learn what you can. General Fruide, Captain Morgan, I want our men to be ready to advance. Double our patrols and implement a system to prevent further mimics from infiltrating our ranks.”  

Gretchen barked orders, and the room emptied in seconds, leaving me alone with Gretchen. “It’ll take a week before Verdant hears anything. I advise you not to leave before then.”  

“While I appreciate your concern, it isn’t needed. I’ll set off in an hour. Surtr.”  

“Yes, Lord Springfield?”  

“You are to remain by Captain Caulk’s side. Keep me informed every hour on what is happening. Should you meet Atrixian soldiers, I give you permission to answer the hunger growing in your belly.”  

Surtr stood and roared, the flames dancing upon his back. “They will die in your name!”   

“I trust you, my friend. Tris, stay here and help with the battle plans. Assist with the defenses.”  

Start making blueprints for bullets when they deliver the supplies. If a fight does break out, try to store the corpses. I’ll assimilate them when I return.    

“Yes, my lord. I will not fail you.”  

“Lady Plymoise? What’s that expression?” I turned to Gretchen and saw something I didn’t like. She looked sad—miserable—almost as if a thousand truths smacked her in the face.   

“Looking at you… No, it’s nothing.” She restructured herself. “Forgive me for that. Lord Springfield, I cannot thank you enough for this. Your kindness—”  

“I’m sorry, but it’s not kindness. I am fighting for my family. This may be harsh, but if I were alone and my family were in Ria? I would not help. I would not involve myself. I would leave and let Plymoise fend for itself. If I had this kindness, I would have offered to help without any reward. But I did not, and you’ve mistaken my kindness for familial love.”  

No. I’ll probably have still taken advantage of it. Can’t pass up the opportunity. 

“… Ah, of course. My apologies. Forgive me, Lord Springfield. Please, take care. I promise, on my name as Gretchen Plymoise, you will be heavily rewarded and compensated.”  

“Tris will tell you of any updates I may have. Surtr, let’s head to the Waterdale Inn for a moment. I need to say my goodbyes.” 

---

Irisa really, really, really did not want me to go. She dropped her sword and damn-near tackled me to the ground, wrapping her sweaty arms around my back.    

Even when I said it was to protect my family... She didn’t want me to leave. She said it wasn’t fair. She said it wasn’t right I had to fight other countries' battles.   

But Dad understood…  He helped me convince Irisa that this was for the better. She didn’t like it, but she eventually understood I was doing this because I loved her.   

But that didn’t stop her from crying. Nor did it prevent her from proclaiming her love no less than ten times in three minutes.  

I shouldn’t bring it up. Not now. It must be when I return.   

“If it were up to me,” Dad said while hugging me. “I’d rather go in your place. I know your goals. I know your desires  I wish I had the power to fix your problems without you having to be involved in foolish power struggles by men too old to fight themselves.”  

“I know. Dad, I love you. I promise I’ll be safe,” I held him tightly. “This is something I need to do. You're my family. And I protect my family.”  

The conversation with Mom was just as emotional.  She didn’t want me gone, but she knew this was an opportunity for me. And Mom trusted me to take care of myself. It also meant a lot to her because she was born in Plymoise. Mom had a connection to the city-state.    

After exiting the courtyard and leaving Mom and Dad alone to comfort Irisa, I went to Niva’s room. Primrose was there to let me in, and she joined me in sitting beside her summoner after closing the door.  “That’s the situation. I want to see some results when I get back, okay?”   

“Yes! I promise I’ll work even harder! Primrose?” She made a fist and showed me a bright smile.    

“She’s making great progress. I surmise it must be the mysterious entity that blessed her with [Mana Language] and [Summoning Magic: Spirit]. But be safe, Lord Springfield.”  

“Worried about me?” I teased her.   

“Yes, I am,” she replied, her tone straight and narrow.  “I… Trust you’ll be fine, but I cannot sit here, lie, and state I don’t harbor any worry in my heart.”  

“Wow. You care more than I thought.”  

“I care!” Primrose huffed and crossed her arms under her sizable breasts. Her outfit was skimpy as usual, showing cleavage and midriff. But that was Primrose. If nothing else, she was proud of who and what she was. “But please be safe.”  

I walked downstairs to find Tilde, Erin, her lion, Ginnie, and Chax. My precious fairy jumped into my arms and said two words.    

“Pawsome Fables?” I repeated the strange name.    

“Yep! That’s our party. Cute, right? We registered at the guild after finishing up. Where’s Tris? She’s usually stuck to you like glue.” I told Pawsome Fables of what I had planned. And they were definitely shocked.   

Except for Tilde.    

But Erin? My little sister, who had been so brave, just broke apart. She didn’t want me to go. I rubbed her head and said I loved how much she cared about me.   

“But I need to do this to protect you. And not just you, but Ginnie and Chax. If I don’t, Atrix will ravage the town. I’ve already stopped an ambush at the sea. You know how strong I am, right?”  

“Uh-huh…” Erin wiped her eyes against my clothes. I rubbed her head.   

“Then you know I’ll be fine. Surtr will keep the lions informed, okay? You can talk to me through Longtooth and him whenever you want. Ginnie, can I trust you and Chax to help look after her?”  

Ginnie nodded. “Please be safe, Mila.”  

“I will. I won’t go and die. I…have things to finish before I can face my end.”  

With my goodbyes said, I ruffled Tilde’s head and left. Surtr was waiting outside to take me to the city gates. I hopped on his back, and... 

My lord, there has been a change of plans! Verdant received a coded message from her spies in Atrix. The navy has dispatched a fleet of ships, and a military detachment has departed from Tiran’s Crest!