Not bad.
Rita had finally managed to come face-to-face with the mastermind behind it all—though it hadn’t been easy by any means. She couldn’t let this chance slip by.
To avoid the risk that there might be a whole stack of villainous subordinates behind this guy, like a tower of Jenga blocks, Rita decided it was best to stay calm for now and watch how things played out.
But the price of doing so was that she had to pretend, like the dazed villagers, to dance that strange jig to the sound of the flute.
The problem was, Rita didn’t know how to dance!
Even if the dance didn’t look all that hard, those twisted moves were just too abstract—Rita couldn’t pick it up in such a short time.
Compared to this, fighting was definitely easier.
Wait, he’s looking this way, better focus on dancing!
Rita danced for ages. She didn’t know if the others were tired, but she felt physically and mentally exhausted.
She couldn’t help but wonder how those aunties and grannies managed to keep it up for so long!
During this time, the Pied Piper looked her way more than once, but never lingered for too long. Since he kept playing his flute, she figured she hadn’t aroused suspicion.
After a long while, the flute music finally stopped. The strange villagers lowered their arms, one after another, tilting their faces up with blank stares and twisted smiles toward the Pied Piper on the stage.
The colorfully dressed Pied Piper slowly lowered the flute in his hand, his wolf-like green eyes sweeping over everyone present.
“Tonight, we welcome a new companion.” The Pied Piper spoke for the first time, his voice slippery and hard to tell if it belonged to a man or a woman. It was as sharp as the sound of glass grinding against stone: “I am truly moved.”
The villagers didn’t make a sound, statues frozen in their upward gazes.
“Step forward,” the Pied Piper said. “Tell everyone your name, your origin, your story, your past—join us, and together let us walk toward our shared future of happiness.”
Who? Me?
While Rita was still confused, Claire stepped out from the crowd, hands tightly clasped, her expression as devout and ecstatic as someone praying to a god.
But this was no church; it was more like a sinister gathering, and she wasn’t facing a deity, but a supersized Mega Evolved Elegant Pheasant.
“My name is Claire, from a distant village,” Claire began, recounting her story. It differed a little from what she’d told Rita and Cecilia, but the gist was the same.
Now, the story was told without any embellishments, stripped to its original form.
“Very good, very good, child. You have the right to pursue happiness. Join us—become one of us.”
Just as Rita tensed, thinking something might happen to Claire, the Pied Piper merely waved a hand, signaling Claire to return to the crowd.
“Ah, that’s wonderful.” Claire looked truly delighted, every bit as excited as when Cecilia had given her bread and silver coins.
“And you? You must tell your story as well, so we may cleanse your misfortune and embrace your future with happiness.” The Pied Piper reached out a hand to Rita.
Me? What am I supposed to say?
Whatever, I’ll just wing it.
“My name is Vita, from the far-off Pelopelo Village. My village was raided by monsters…”
Rita repeated the story she’d tried (unsuccessfully) to feed Cecilia before, telling it as vividly as she could.
The whole place was silent—only her own voice echoed around. Rita started to wonder if any of these wooden villagers could actually hear her.
Gritting her teeth, Rita finished her story: “That’s my story. I hope I can find happiness too.”
The Pied Piper pressed his lips together tightly, then suddenly shrieked.
“Quick! Restrain this liar! She dares to deceive us! She is an outsider! Our greatest enemy on the path to happiness!”
Crap! I’m exposed!
“How did you see through me?!” Since she’d been busted, Rita dropped the act completely.
“Because there’s a light of intelligence in your eyes?” said the Pied Piper, lifting the flute to his lips once again. A long, melodious note rang out into the night.
Intelligence in my eyes? Me?
Heh, first time anyone’s ever praised me for that.
No, no, this isn’t the time to think about that!
The villagers all turned their heads at once, staring at Rita.
“Without happiness, it’s not acceptable!”
“Happiness is an obligation!”
“A child like you should be excluded!”
The villagers spouted nonsense that Rita couldn’t make sense of and swarmed toward her.
Insane!
Rita let out a whistle, and a rustling sound rose from the grass.
Gray tides surged out from all around; pairs of black eyes gleamed in the night like tiny lanterns, making the already eerie scene even creepier.
Rita snapped her fingers and, in her heart, issued a loud command.
Go, my Field Mouse Army! Use Bite on the villagers!
Chattering and squeaking, the field mice charged at the advancing villagers, claws and sharp teeth ready to bite.
While field mice weren’t much compared to humans, there were plenty of them living in the fields nearby—enough to make up a scrappy little army.
No match for trained soldiers, but plenty to bully some crazed old ladies.
“Ahhh!”
“Ooooh!”
The shrieks of people and mice rang out in quick succession, and the small square descended into utter chaos.
The Pied Piper frowned, raising the flute again and changing the tune.
Upon hearing it, the villagers became even more excited. The old ladies, who had just been helpless and shrieking under the mice’s attack, suddenly widened their eyes and, without fear, started swinging fists, canes, and feet at the field mice.
Uh, well, the mice couldn’t kill them anyway, but fighting them off so energetically was pretty impressive in its own right.
But Rita hadn’t started all this to watch mice and humans brawl; her real aim was never self-preservation.
While the Pied Piper continued playing, he suddenly felt a powerful force grip his hand. Then, without warning, his flute exploded, sending sharp fragments slicing into his face.
Staring at the broken half of the flute, then up at Rita—who was now striding toward him—the Pied Piper’s eyes went wide with rage.
“Go—”
Thump, thump.
Several of the old ladies closest to Rita suddenly went limp and collapsed to the ground.
But the Pied Piper hadn’t seen Rita do anything at all.
Or rather, he saw Rita do nothing—and yet the old ladies just dropped on their own.
Rita shrugged, feeling a bit annoyed.
What a hassle. She really hadn’t wanted to use her dream demon abilities.
But these old grannies were just too fragile. If she’d stopped them with physical force, who knows what might have happened? Respecting elders and cherishing the young was a traditional virtue, after all. Even if they were mind-controlled, she couldn’t go around breaking their legs.
Ugh.
Of course, the Pied Piper had no clue what Rita was thinking—he was consumed by terror.
A bizarre horde of mice, someone who could subdue others without lifting a finger, and some unknown power that instantly destroyed his flute.
A monster—no, a demon! This woman must be a demon!
“Eek—!”
With a scream, the Pied Piper threw aside the flute and bolted.
Seriously, man, you’re running now?
After tootling your flute all night, I thought you’d have some kind of secret weapon up your sleeve—but this is it?
Well, whatever. First, take him back for questioning. Whether or not he knows Cecilia’s identity, the fact that he’s a threat to her is enough.
The Pied Piper fled down the stone road, racing out of the village.
Huff, huff—no footsteps behind me. Did I shake her off?
He turned to look over his shoulder—only to find Rita’s face nearly pressed against his.
“Tired from running?”
“Eek—stay away from me—!” the Pied Piper shrieked, speeding up again.
“No way! You’ve got to come back with me. How could we pay to stay for a night and get treated like this? Not happening!” Rita wagged her finger, sticking close.
“If… if you keep chasing, don’t blame me for getting nasty!” the Pied Piper stammered.
“Sure! I’d love to see just how nasty you can get.” Rita’s eyes curved in a smile.
He might be a bit weak, but this feeling of everything being under her control—so satisfying!
“Y-you’ll regret this!”
“I won’t, not at all! How could I possibly regret it?”
“Then I—”
Danger!
Suddenly, Rita felt a powerful sense of crisis. Without thinking, she drew the sword at her waist and slashed toward the source of danger.
But the threat hadn’t come from the Pied Piper before her.
Of course not. How could it have?
Because the Pied Piper now had a fist-sized hole blown through his chest. He collapsed to the ground with a thud, blood gushing from his chest and soaking his garish clothes.
Rita’s hand tingled; her sword had lost a chunk of its blade. On the grass beside her, the impact of the blocked attack had left a soccer-ball-sized crater.
Thud—
Only now did the Pied Piper’s hat fall off, revealing, in the shadow of its brim, two figures who seemed to have been waiting there all along.
Or rather, it was as if they had been there, awaiting her arrival.
“Your attack was blocked, wasn’t it?” The girl with rose-gold hair and eyes of the same hue locked her gaze on Rita, her look of appraisal making Rita uneasy—and oddly familiar.
“Yes, miss.” The taller girl beside her raised her giant bow. “But next time, I won’t miss.”