Arche Eeb Rile Furt rushed back to her family mansion. As the eldest daughter of a noble family that had fallen of favor with the reigning Emperor Jircniv, she was forced to become a worker to pay for her family's growing debts as her parents carelessly wasted money away, living in the delusion of their importance lost to history.
As a third-tier caster, she was readily accepted in a seasoned worker team right after dropping out of the Imperial Magic Academy, as she couldn't pay for it anymore despite her immense talent. Her promising future was thoroughly crushed by the irresponsibility of her father and mother, as she had been considered one of the most promising students of Master Fluder, with the possibility of reaching tier six within her natural lifetime, yet all of it had been taken away by the ones called her parents.
She reached the creaking gate and walked through the neglected front garden; the last gardener left after Sir Furt refused to pay him, spewing nonsense about his duty to serve the highborn.
It had been a long time since the family butler James greeted her at the entrance and took her coat, and even he wasn't untouched by the poverty her family had fallen into. The man was the only remaining servant left and was usually too busy keeping up the house to greet anyone, doing the jobs of a dozen by himself. Not that her attire screamed nobility. All her clothing was worn down and lacking compared to the rest of her team, filled with tears and rips she was too broke to repair.
She caught her reflection in the cracked mirror as she walked towards the washroom. Her petite frame screamed tiredness. Her blue eyes had lost the spark of life in them, knowing there was little to look forward to besides more work, and that the work would be squandered to leave nothing behind. Her blonde hair was haphazardly shaped into a bob cut as it was the cheapest practical haircut a girl could get since long hair required more care.
Sometimes she was jealous of her teammate Imina, a young half-elf woman who kept her long, purple hair in messy tails. Once upon a time, she too possessed an elegant almost doll-like appearance now only found in her two, much younger, sisters. If not for them, she would have had no reason to return to this sorry place she once called home.
"Ah, you are home!" Her mother's voice greeted her from the main guest room.
Arche stopped and took a long breath. It was growing difficult to even look at her parents without growing angry. In the past few weeks, she felt this strange drive to act and to kill every obstacle in her path, no matter who or what they were. The act of literal killing had become easier as she drew a sense of satisfaction when her spells ended the lives of trolls that had recently terrorized a small logging community when her team was hired to deal with the problem.
She slowly turned her entire body and entered the room, finding her parents sitting by the table and admiring an object she hadn't seen before. A lamp with a mosaic color pattern, screaming decadence, was sitting on the table.
"What is that?" Arche pointed at the useless object, sensing a wave of rage incoming on the wings of a golden eagle. This metaphorical entity landed on her shoulders, spreading its shining wings, urging her to act out her anger and spill blood in its glory.
"Oh, you are home. This, my insolent daughter, is a display of our status. And how many times I have told you not to stomp around our rugs with those filthy boots," Sir Furt addressed her with a sneer.
"How much did you spend!?" She growled in response.
"That is no way to speak with your father, dear. Come sit with us, I see you so rarely these days." Madam Furt flashed her a smile, trying to defuse the situation.
"How much!?" Arche raised her voice to a half scream.
"It was only fifteen gold, if you must know, quite a bargain for such an item. And watch your tone. Mingling with those commoners has made you forget all manners." Sir Furt stood up, his hand twisted into a fist as his face contorted.
"We are commoners! You old fool, spending money you don't have!" She shrieked. Fifteen gold was enough to last them quite a while, money she had saved and hidden away for her siblings, and yet they had been spent on this useless trinket!
"How dare you!" Her father screamed back, stomping in her direction, his fists tensing.
Arche lowered herself, preparing for a fight. Was the old fool really about to attack her? The idiotic man, who had done nothing but sat on his ass all his life in his chair, was about to attack a seasoned worker who had faced real threats out in the field. Her blood started to boil because of the sheer audacity of the pathetic man who dared to parasitize her.
Arche easily dogged his sloppy punch and kicked him in the kneecap. Sir Furt let out a pained groan and stumbled back in shock, his fists flailing. But she wasn't done. The urge she had held back for months finally broke its restraints, flooding into her mind like a spring river after the winter ice had broken from the mountaintops. She needed to get back at the man and she needed to do it now.
She seized the staff strapped to her back, swinging it widely as the blood roared in her ears. It struck the man in the nose, shattering it in an instant. Sir Furt fell to the ground, his face twisted in shock and terror as bodily fluids leaked.
"Arche, stop!" Madam Furt screamed hysterically, her face white with fear.
She ignored the screams. At this moment they weren't her parents anymore, they were two pieces of human garbage ruining her life, and she was setting herself free.
She slammed the heavy staff down on the defenseless man who only offered weak moans in response, her experience in battle empowering her strikes. Arche felt immense satisfaction feeling the man's arms and legs break before her blows. All the frustration poured out fueling the weapon that turned the waste of space into a mincemeat.
"You psychotic bitch!" Another scream threw her out of her trance as her head snapped to witness who dared to interrupt her rampage.
"You will be hung for this!" The woman, she once called her mother, raged, rising from her chair.
Arche lunged forward, grabbing a useless, expensive lamp from the table and smashing it into the woman's face. Madam Furt fell to the floor like a rock, her face impaled with countless tiny shards of glass as blood began to seep out. Arche didn't wait. Her boot connected with the belly that once carried her.
The woman curled up, her moans and whimpers filling the air with each kick and hit connecting to a flesh, unused to any sort of violence. "Stop, please!"
"Young miss, I think you have proven your point quite thoroughly. Perhaps it's time to stop." She heard James speak up, his voice being the sole source of reason in the room as the adrenaline faded.
Arche straightened out sharply, turning her head. James stood in the doorway, his expression calm and collected as if he were the very image of a butler. His elderly frame was still uptight and proper, hiding his advanced age quite well as he dispensed his advice.
"I…" The reality of what she had just done began to settle in as the burning desire to kill slowly faded from her mind. The two people responsible for her life hardships lay broken on the floor by her own hands. Her knuckles were bruised and covered in blood that wasn't hers.
She didn't feel guilt or remorse; only justice was enacted. James, the man who had been like a parent to her over the years, betrayed no concern over what she had done, instead approaching her with an offered handkerchief.
He remained the sole properly functioning adult left in the mansion when her family was stripped of noble titles and the servants fled. He had tried to convince the two fallen nobles that they didn't have the same status anymore and couldn't afford to waste money, many times. And he was the one taking care of her two sisters when she was working while her parents concerned themselves with keeping up their nonexistent appearances than raising their children.
"What happened was well deserved." James handed her the small piece of cloth, pristine clean as always. "But I would like to know what you are planning to do now?"
"I am taking Ureirika and Kuuderika and leaving. You should do the same. These pieces of shit won't get any money from me anymore so I doubt they'll pay you from now on," Arche stated as she wiped her hands.
"Is the young mistress relieving me of the service? Permit me to boldly say this, but the two young ladies would need to be attended to while you work, regardless of where you go. As I understand it was your money that paid my salary, as shrunken as it has become. If anything, I might ask for a raise now that you have 'unburdened' yourself of responsibilities a child of your age shouldn't have in the first place," James continued, his gaze falling on her bruised and stained hands as he took the dirtied cloth.
"I… you're right. I need someone to look after them, but I don't think I can pay you a lot more right now." She nodded in agreement.
"I believe we can renegotiate my salary when a new permanent housing situation is found, for now we can put it on hold. I'll be off to prepare the two young ladies for the trip." James bowed, departing from the crime scene.
Arche watched him go, her mind racing. Was there a way for her parents to exact revenge? Perhaps it was better to set the mansion ablaze and let them burn along with whatever she couldn't take. She sat down in one of the chairs, watching the pair struggle. Sir Furt had all his extremities broken so he couldn't move, not easily at least.
Her mother, on the other hand, had only suffered relatively minor damage in comparison. The older woman slowly stood up with a wobble, clutching her stomach, and limped over to a cabinet in the corner of the room, letting out soft moans and grunts with each step she took.
Arche watched her in silence. There was a small part within that felt pity towards her, but it paled compared to the hatred and contempt that was now unrestrained by what seemed to be some divine will she tapped into by accident. Which God guided her hand, she didn't know, but she was certain it must have been some higher power.
Madam Furt retrieved a bottle and a glass and limped towards her, finally settling on a sofa opposite to her. Arche couldn't tell if the reality of the situation had finally settled in or if she simply tried to distract herself before doing what she wanted to do. The woman filled the glass with brandy and took it to her swollen lips, gulping it down without a care for decorum.
"They are not yours to take," She finally uttered, her speech slurred.
Arche didn't respond. There was nothing to say anymore. Her urge to hit the woman only grew.
"Nothing to say? Your father was right. You are nothing but an ungrateful brat!" Madame Furt continued after downing another glass.
Arche knew of the cruelties of the world. The workers came from all societal levels, but the woman, she once called mother, did not. She had lived in her bubble of wealth and ignorance all her life, unable to see or comprehend her fall.
"I wonder if you'll still defend him when he sells you to a brothel. Pretend all you want, but you are not getting any money from me and the debt collectors will come." Arche spat and stood up.
The words finally hit home. Madame Furt turned her head towards her husband, contemplating if her daughter's words could be true. "You are an ungrateful brat! I thought I raised you better. If you take my daught-" She couldn't finish the sentence.
Arches staff connected with the already bluish face with a satisfying crunch. Madame Furt fell sideways, bloodied teeth escaping her mouth as the bottle flew into the air. Arche slammed down the staff on her side one last time and departed from the room. The woman was beyond delusional and deserved everything coming her way.
James had wisely kept her sisters away from the scene and the trio awaited her at the end of the hall, having already begun collecting various items at the butler's behest.
The two girls, who were six-year-old copies of her, got visibly excited upon noticing her. The trusty butler had dressed them in travel outfits and packed their bags at record speed; the former were just grabbing trinkets and cash.
"Where are we going, big sister?" Ureirika, the bolder one of the two, asked.
"First, we'll go meet my friends and then find a place to stay. Did you pack your toys?" Arche inquired in response. While her parents lavishly spent the money she brought in, they rarely spent it on her sisters, with all their toys coming directly from her, as few as there were considering the family's former financial situation.
"James helped us pack. Dolly is coming with us." Kuuderika patted the bag she was holding.
"Then we are ready to go. You'll like my friends. They're eager to finally meet you two." Arche forced a smile onto her face and took their hands. What the future held was unclear, but at least they would be away from their parents.
Editing by aidan_lo.
Proofreading by aidan_lo, IAMTHEPLOKOKIOPO, fvvck, clagan, Sluethen, x4, Mfkzrocker
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