Rob X Punzel ~ Forty-Six!

“There. It's over.” The queen gestured at Goldie as she casually strolled toward her stone throne. “Time to figure out what pittance to offer her in place of the prince. I'm thinking we put together a protected room in the castle where she can live while serving us. There's no need for pay, of course. If she wants anything, we'll just have her ask me, and I'll decide if she should get it. It’ll all depend on her good behavior, of course.” 

Plopping onto the throne, Brutehilda allowed herself a broad, self-satisfied smile. The king and prince remained staring in mute horror at the terribly mutilated person laying on the floor. Wisps of smoke rose from her body where the remnants of the corrupted energy sizzled along merrily. The gouges in her flesh were coated with dust and particles from the destroyed tower, hiding a goodly amount of the grisly sight while almost guaranteeing infection. 

King Frieden leaned forward, taking a deep breath before speaking, as if he didn't want to have to state the words on his mind. “Rapunzel… are you awake?”

“Yu~up.” Came the pained response, to which all three of the men in the room reacted by heaving a sigh of relief—the royal guard simply couldn’t contain himself.

“In that case, I have to ask… have you decided to relinquish your claim as the victor of the tower?” It was clear from the tone of his voice that he expected nothing less at this point. After his firm inquiry, his next words were far more gentle. “Don't die for this, young lady. Don't let her break you to the point where you shatter. You've already impressed us more than-”

All sounds in the room ceased as Goldie pushed off the ground, slowly coming up into a standing position—no matter how wobbly. “I don't… I don't break that easy, Your Highness. No, I didn't give up. She just stopped fighting. Come on… let's keep at it. This is nothing; I've had worse.”

“That's a load of feces!” the queen hollered as she bounded to her feet, rushing across the room and swinging her fist—halting just before caving in Goldie's face. Then she shouted, spittle splashing across mangled flesh. “Look at you! A strong breeze would end you. I admit, I can find some use for you, but I can't let you have him. I need someone I can mold, and you? You're too brittle.”

“I can still fight,” Goldie declared, lifting her hands and concentrating. Her shears appeared in her hands a moment later, accompanied by a small thunderclap as they displaced the air. You might’ve won the last two rounds, but… as they say… third time’s the charm.”

A gentle push from a single sausage-shaped finger sent Goldie careening to the ground, barely managing to stop her roll before falling through the hole in the floor. Luckily her hair had grown slightly and managed to cover her face just before she hit a jagged, jutting tile. 

“I almost feel bad, but since you seem to be insisting on it, I’ll give you the respect of a warrior's death.” Brutehilda stomped closer, savoring her victory. “There was never any chance of you defeating me in combat, little girl. This is what I do.”

“What I do?” Goldie repeated in a dazed mumble. “What I do? I do hairdo.”

“You've lost a lot of blood. Just stay quiet. It'll all be over soon.” The queen lifted her fist to finish crushing her most recent victim, not at all concerned with how the young woman's fingers were twitching.

“No…” Goldie turned her suddenly clear gaze upon the queen, locking eyes with the ogre of a woman. “You don't understand. I do hairdo. Rapunzel isn't going to let her hair down. Not today.”

Squeezing her hand closed, Goldie activated Akashic Interface, flooding herself with energy as she activated the internal usage of a specific modifier. One she had despised so long ago. “I'd say this is a pretty stressful situation, Brutehilda.”

“I'd have to agree.” The queen’s fist lanced downward, and she turned her face so she wouldn't have to worry about having any blood splash into her eyes—which widened in surprise as her clenched hand stopped dead. Brutehilda let out a strangled shout of surprise as a massive tangle of hair erupted from the prone woman and wrapped around her.

Goldie let out a pained chuckle as she was lifted off the ground by the extensive quantity of hair coming into existence. “Thirty inches of hair a day, means an inch and a quarter an hour, or point zero-two inches per second. If I weren't stressed. An additional two thousand percent growth, multiplied by an additional two thousand percent? All of that increased by thirty percent? I think that's going to end up being a little over eight feet of hair growing… every second for the next fifteen seconds.”

No one could hear her words, muffled as they were by the slithering hair coiling around the struggling Brutehilda. She almost escaped the all-encompassing hair, and would have if she had noticed the growth in the first or even second second of its growth spurt. But the tips of Goldie’s hair had latched onto a dark aura clinging to the surface of the queen’s skin, digging in and forcing an outpouring of the energy that made her a Witch.

Precious seconds passed, showcased by the snapping and destroyed strands of hair. An immense increase in immunities slowed the Witch’s escape, but it didn’t stop it.

Basic… Moderate… Considerable-rank corrupted energy immunity gained! 

Basic → Considerable-rank cursed energy immunity gained!

Extensive → Master-rank Grappling immunity gained!

A hundred and twenty-five feet of hair wrapped around the queen, burning and breaking under the assault of energy and flexing. Time ticked by, and more destruction occurred, until only the barest threads remained woven around the woman… then she was free. Enraged and red-faced from embarrassment, Brutehilda stared at Goldie with manic eyes, trembling with excitement as she went in for the kill. “I’m going to make this hurt-”

“Wrong.” Half of Goldie’s melted face curled in a pained smirk as she felt a familiar internal click. “‘Cause I can keep this up all day.”

She squeezed her hand, and the few strands still holding the queen were joined by a fresh wave of hair, with more generated each second.

Considerable… Proficient… Extensive corrupted energy immunity gained! 

Considerable → Extensive-rank cursed energy immunity gained!

Master → Perfect Grappling immunity gained!

All at once, Goldie relaxed, understanding that the queen had been fully subjugated. Due to the grappling immunity she’d just gained, the Witch couldn't do more than spasmodically twitch her muscles. Bursts of evil energy still trickled from the ethereal aura of the screaming, incensed queen. But as the seconds passed, and the hair just kept pulling more out of the Witch, her reserves of tainted power emptied out. 

Goldie was almost sad about that fact. In her addled state, she was positive she could have reached a Perfect immunity to whatever this terrifying person could throw at her.

As the final moments of her Akashic Interface skill came to an end, Goldie began speaking to and directing her hair. “Can you move around so the king and prince can see me?”

Her hair began to comply, moving with a sound like the wind shifting a field of dried leaves. Soon, she managed to lock her hazy vision on the royal family, who had remained firmly in their chairs. The king and prince both stood slowly, approaching her and the queen-shaped hairball twitching back-and-forth. 

King Frieden glanced around at his new, golden surroundings, then back to the severely wounded young woman he’d been interviewing only a short while ago. “The queen… is she…?”

“I'm just holding her for now,” Goldie explained tiredly. “Don't worry, I don't think she's injured. She just can't move, and as far as I know, she's pretty much out of magic. Every time she regenerates a little bit, she burns away a little more of my hair, but that's becoming… less effective. Don't worry, as soon as she officially surrenders, I'll let her go-”

“No!” The king and prince shouted in unison, glancing at each other with a matching grin playing about their lips. The king held up his hands in a pleading motion. “No. Please don't do that. I cannot think of any other time I would get the opportunity to rid our kingdom of her.”

“What?” Goldie stared at the king uncomprehendingly. “You want to get rid of your wife? That seems… I mean, I get it, I've met her, but-”

“She's not my wife nor my son's mother. She's the queen in name only.” the king quickly explained with a grim expression. “Fifteen years ago, on the eve of my wife's funeral—when I was at my weakest, having lost my partner in all things—Brutehilda smashed into the city and fought her way to the castle. I hadn't gotten a handle on how my Conjoined Skill would work without my wife, and half of the lattice of power offered by the wards of the kingdom had been snuffed out. Before I could raise a defense, this monster in human flesh declared herself queen.”

“But… that was a decade and a half ago. If you wanted her gone, why didn't you make it happen?” Goldie couldn't quite believe what she was hearing: a history of the kingdom no one had dared whisper even in the slums—as far away from those loyal to the queen as possible.

“She quickly gained favor with the noble houses, allowing them to run rampant with the use of their power.” The king barely held himself back from snarling, not wanting to frighten the young woman wavering between understanding and disbelief. “She kept close to me at all times, not giving me enough time to rebuild the wards and focus their power into myself. At the start, neither of us was certain who would win in a direct conflict, so I had no choice but to stay my hand or risk ripping the kingdom apart.”

Taking a deep breath, he explained his story further. “Over the years, she became less wary, because I slowly began to succumb to a foul ailment which drained my strength further. From the instant effectiveness of the panacea my son provided me, I am certain she had been dosing me with either cursed energy or a slow poison. He… actually, he said that came from you. How?”

“I robbed a warehouse,” Goldie stated bluntly. “The alchemist who had come to town saw me and initiated a city-wide hunt. I evaded them as long as possible, but when I saw Bob about to get killed out in the streets-”

“Rob,” the king corrected the name instantly, as if it were a habitual argument. Then his eyes went wide as he processed what she had said and turned to his son. “You were out in the streets? Alone? What?”

“No, she's right; Bob is my street name. As a prince, I'm Roburt, as your son, Rob. But to the people I fight? Bob.” Roburt could only shrug at his father’s accusatory glare. “Hey, I had a good reason for it. You were the one who taught me to support charitable organizations. When Brutehilda went to her monthly gatherings down in the noble district, I would tag along, then sneak out and bring coins to the orphanage. I met Rapunzel-”

“Goldie,” the young woman corrected, getting a nod from the prince and a questioning stare from the king.

“Is everyone here going by an alias?” the king barked in frustration, rolling his eyes when Goldie and Bob nodded, but glaring in suspicion as the guard joined in as well.

“I’m Dan,” the guard offered, unprompted. There was a moment of silence as the others glanced at him. “Do I still have a job?”

The prince resumed his story.

“I met Goldie there, and she’s rescued me twice since then.” Roburt pointed at his swollen face. “She's the one who put me on the idea of the arenas, and I managed to win enough to support the kids a whole lot more often. At first, the queen… Brutehilda… was furious that I’d been sneaking out, but when the guards pulled me out of the arena, she gave me her enthusiastic permission to continue. After that… I did a little too well, and their enforcers wanted more of a cut than I was willing to give. That's when she gave me the bottle of Liquid Sunshine.”

“Solid double meaning there.” Goldie was fading fast, and for some reason, she found his words hilarious. “A cut. The money, your guts, either way.”

“Yeah, we need to figure out how to get her some healing,” King Frieden voiced with deep concern. “But first, Goldie is it?”

“Rapunzel. No. R. Punzel. Gah! My name is Rebecca Punzel.” She blinked owlishly, trying to remember what the question was, then decided to simply repeat the prince’s words. “I go by Goldie. It's my thief name. Sorry about that.”

“Rebecca it is,” the king firmly decided, shaking his head in annoyance at their antics. “Dan! Healing potion! Now! Stay with me, Rebecca. As I was saying, the queen decided I was no longer a threat, and while I was bedridden, I managed to finally reconstitute the ward structure. With her power drained and being held in place by bonds she can't break, I can banish her from the kingdom without fearing she might manage to retaliate. Please… give me access to her.” 

Carefully directing her hair, Goldie allowed the queen’s face to come into view, though as the vile woman saw them, she began shouting terrible curses at them, so Goldie wrapped her face to muffle her words and exposed the Witch’s midriff. “What do you need?”

“This will do.” The king decisively stepped toward her, lifting his hands in the air as they began to glimmer with intense bronze light. His digits began weaving through the air as if tracing along patterns only he could see, and with each gesture, a faint glimmer trailed along behind, leaving a faint rune which only slowly faded away.

Power began to build up in the room as he continued minute after minute, reinforcing each layer of glyphs with another, and again. His stance remained calm and focused, not wavering nor flinching, no matter how the queen fought against the bindings of Goldie's hair: and fight she did. 

Her muscles bulged and twisted beneath the layer of hair holding her in place, her howls of resentment echoing even though her face was covered. Every few moments, a thin wisp of dark energy would surge and flare off of her, only to eat away at the golden hair, which was then replaced by more of the same in a rapid cycle of destruction and binding. Each minute, as her skill came off cooldown, Goldie used Akashic Interface to reinforce the hairy prison further—just to be safe.

Soon the intricate symbols had formed a delicate web just above the rock-hard surface of Brutehilda’s ab muscles, and the recovered king began whispering in a slow and steady cadence, which echoed unnaturally in the air around him. The runes responded, spiraling and curling before finally sinking into the flesh of the Witch. 

“By the power I wield as the sovereign of…” The king's eyes went wide as he realized he could remember the name of his kingdom for the first time in more than a decade. “The sovereign of Schutzschild! The kingdom which stands as a shield, a final bastion against the deprivations of… so that’s where you come from, why you were so adamant the next queen be a Witch! So you could open our border for your foul coven leader!”

“How dare you speak of her like-” Brutehilda gagged as a ball of hair writhed over her face.

“As the sovereign of Schutzschild, I hereby banish you from this kingdom, never again to set foot within our borders so long as our ward structure stands!” the king’s decree rang out, interacting with the magic in the air to encapsulate the Witch in bronze power. “Begone, foul creature!”

Goldie's hair was shoved to the side as Brutehilda’s shining form was rocketed into the air, bursting through the roof of the tower and rapidly vanishing into the sky as the kingdom's power was used to throw her out and away—never to return. 

As the Witch faded into a twinkling dot in the night sky, Goldie's eyes began to flutter closed. The last thing she saw before falling unconscious was a notification from the system.

Minimal-rank Grand Ward immunity gained.