ã€ŠX-Linerã€‹


 I-0: Zero to Nemesis

    One seventh.

    A mere fraction off the agreed amount for the month. The youth had told himself countless times these people were not to be shorted under any circumstances, but deep inside, he still held some measure of hope in the fact it was his first mistake. An error he truly did not know how he could have prevented.

    They did not care.

    Tasting blood from his lip after being forced down on the table by those who had paid properly, the youth could do nothing but mentally curse any avoidable decision that had led to this result.

    He did not retain even the boldness to scream, whether in pain or fear. For with what little he knew of the human monster before him, it was a fact that things would be even worse had he the impudence to resist in ways as worthless as that.

    Surrounded by those terrified, just like him, into the task of ensuring the sentence. Locked at the front by the image of dread itself, raising the tool of cruel judgment.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    The twisted thorn was brought down like a guillotine, and the young man could only wait for the eternal reminder of his unavoidable failure.

    That is just¡­ how events should have turned out.

    But at that moment, against all predictions, the thorn of cruelty was forced back by a twilight-colored comet. Their weapon blocked, the monster was also torn from their footing, the echo of shattered glass still present.

    The young man turned to his side, and no wonder how. After all, those restraining him could not help but release him so they could witness that. See for themselves whatever was responsible for such an irrational act.

    Their hand still extended forward, a masked stranger shrouded in half-protected, raggedy attire. To call them a knight or savior would be laughable.

    But such a thought did not seem to be of even the lowest concern to the stranger. Maneuvering through the brutes now on the attack, calling out for the young man in concern.

    The youth ran off. Ignoring pain, discarding the need to give anything in return. He did not have the courage.

    However, in spite of the terror consuming him, fueling his unseemly escape, the young man could not help but turn his head one last time.

    One more glance. He needed another look at least.

    To remember the figure of a hero for the rest of his life.

 I-1: Seyfelt Girl (Not)

    Out of the many things Tatyana Nesterova took pride in, prudent management of her time would certainly not make the list.

    This was not the first time she had remained awake until the break of dawn, and thus, the frown on her otherwise elegant face was so frequently present as to form part of her standard image.

    However, someone who knew Tatyana beyond the standard would notice a few differences currently. The annoyance in her eyes was somewhat stronger, her lips forming a tight line.

    All due to a bother on the other side of the communication line.

    ¡°Can¡¯t there be a single time in which you sound happy from my calls?¡± The voice of a young man became tinged with a self-victimizing tone, and Tatyana¡¯s frown deepened ever-so-slightly.

    ¡°I always tell you to not call me during the morning. You just want to annoy me...¡±

    Holding back a more questionable choice of words, she distracted herself from her irritation by taking the first bite of a just-served small breakfast. The taste of ham dipped in a homemade sauce that would feel to most like their mouth had been stabbed, and then washed clean with concentrated alcohol. Yet to Tatyana, such numbing spiciness felt almost medicinal, instantly lightening her mood¡­

    ¡°You speak as if I tried to hide that.¡±

    ¡­ only for it to be forced down once more.

    Wish a hammer would fall on his foot already.

    From time to time, Tatyana¡¯s thoughts about her older brother became a tad more violent than what would be considered ideal.

    ¡°Did you call just to mess around?¡± Despite her annoyance reaching somewhat dangerous levels, the girl managed to restrain herself. She preferred doing so than letting her brother¡¯s provocation take over.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that kind of a sibling¡¯s right?¡± Alexander Nesterov sighed in disappointment, yet spoke once more. ¡°I do have something important to talk about, though.¡±

    ¡°Go on?¡± Finally able to enjoy her food again, Tatyana¡¯s tone softened ever-so-slightly.

    ¡°I know you haven¡¯t registered at the facility yet.¡±

    With such unassuming words, Tatyana stopped eating once more. Leaving the diced ham on her plate once again, she frowned even more than with her previous annoyance.

    ¡°I just haven¡¯t gotten around to it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve had a full month, taking me for a moron won¡¯t make me one. To think you¡¯ve waited until the very last week before operations resume¡­¡±

    I was hoping to have found a way to weasel out by now¡­

    Naturally, Tatyana did not feel like letting her brother of all people chew her out over procrastination. Really, would anyone?

    But as much as she resisted, the topic at hand was indeed important. Alexander definitely would not allow her to squirm away into a different issue.

    There was no other choice. Zero alternatives whatsoever.

    As such, after a few seconds of deliberation during which her brother continued to lecture, Tatyana did what anyone else would.

    She hung up.

    ¡°¡­ This makes me appreciate silence so much¡­¡± Smirking in relief, she spoke alone without regard to how it could look.

    But for all of Tatyana¡¯s faults, she was not dull. It was well within her expectations to receive another call within the next ten seconds or so. And so, naturally, she had already prepared her greeting words.

    ¡°Bro, I know what I have to do. So why don¡¯t you stop annoying me and instead go bend¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s me.¡±

    Useless preparation against the woman who was now on the line. A lady who Tatyana knew very well, and whose strict greeting shook her to the core. Now frozen in place, Tatyana felt her heart immediately speed up.

    Out of excitement?

    Not really. Unless the feeling of a pigeon being stared down by a falcon was called ¡®excitement¡¯.

    ¡°Alyssa¡­¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s husky voice had, perhaps amusingly, changed to an almost pleading tone regardless of her will. Like a small animal begging for mercy.

    Not that this affected her brother¡¯s fianc¨¦e in the slightest. Without delay, a normal tone that was somehow more intense than a shout assaulted Tatyana¡¯s ear.

    ¡°Why not do something productive already? Digging your heels in like this is just bothersome to others. If you want to drop out for good, then just say so and stop wasting everyone¡¯s time.¡±

    A cold, dry¡­ yet decisive statement. Not a hint of excessive aggression was present, and Tatyana knew so more than anyone.

    Finding herself silent for more time than she would acknowledge, the girl became lost in her own thoughts. Despite not being pressed further by Alyssa, Tatyana¡¯s expression became somber.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m not dropping out at all. What¡¯s with that crappy joke?¡± As if her utterly frightened self from just a minute ago never existed, Tatyana spat shamelessly.

    A declaration which, oddly, Alyssa seemed to take in a slightly better mood.

    ¡°Just like I thought. When do business hours over at that place end?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ll get it done now.¡±

    ¡°Mm, that¡¯s good.¡±

    Ironically, and despite knowing the annoying call was finally near its close, Tatyana did not even hang up.

    Leaving the small cellphone on the table without a care, Tatyana quickly finished what little was left of her breakfast before standing from the chair. Wanting to visit the washroom to get ready, she still stopped upon barely hearing more words from her brother¡¯s fianc¨¦e, despite the distance.

    ¡°Take care.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Alyssa¡¯s tone was unchanged from before, but perhaps due to their years of acquaintance, Tatyana received the intent in such unassuming words others would just consider common courtesy.

    Once more, Tatyana became aware of why she did not think of Alexander as her only sibling.

    ¡°Whatever.¡±

    Intent shrouded in her aggressive tone, Tatyana left the knowing Alyssa with such seemingly uncaring words.

    <hr>

    ¡­ Okay, screw it. This is so annoying.

    Frustrated with her inability to perform a more delicate hairdo (low patience perhaps at fault for it), Tatyana instead gathered her brilliant brown hair into a casual ponytail that still left several loose fringes to frame her face.

    As always¡­ no need to fix what¡¯s not broken~

    Looking at herself in the mirror once more as she exited the room, Tatyana¡¯s lips briefly shaped into a halfhearted, yet satisfied smile.

    ¡­ Or perhaps, it might have been more precise to call it a smirk.

    Content with her usual style, she promptly slung a small bag over her shoulder before walking out of the apartment, placing her cellphone inside it while at it.

    ¡°I¡¯m off, Klo.¡±

    Accurately expecting no reply, Tatyana left with such words for her still slumbering roommate.

    Hallway. Elevator. Outside. Routine made the girl go past all with barely any attention, only brought to her senses by the immediate breeze of almost painful chill.

    Hah¡­ Coat, coat. Why did I forget¡­?

    Rubbing her arms for some warmth, Tatyana became painfully aware of how weak a mere jacket, t-shirt and jeans were against the advent of winter. At least her sheepskin boots were doing their job well.

    Pondering whether or not to go back up for a proper coat, she looked up at the apartment building she had become accustomed to over the last few months.

    More wide than tall, yet still with more than enough stories, it looked more like a small city¡¯s top-rated hotel rather than an apartment complex.

    The medium-sized city of Seyfelt had no lack of pretentious-looking architecture, born from the frivolity of young engineers with too much time and money on their hands. And so, perhaps fittingly, it was a well-known fact that they were rarely inhabited to capacity.

    The building Tatyana looked upon was no exception, and while she did not spend any meaningful time idling around the complex, it was still somewhat impressive that she could count the amount of times she had happened upon any neighbors on just her hands.

    Several seconds of her distracted thoughts having passed, the chilling breeze had gone from shocking to just somewhat painful.

    For Tatyana, this was enough to discard the annoying option to go back into the building and through the elevator for her coat.

    And so, with a relaxed step, she left the building grounds still damp with morning drizzle, turned to hail, behind.

    It was¡­ eight, right? Maybe eight thirty now?

    The girl thought to herself amidst the boredom of her walk, too lazy to pull up her phone if only to check the time.

    Her intended destination was not that far away, perhaps a fifteen-minute drive if accounting for average traffic. But for a seventeen-year-old with no car like Tatyana, this timespan did not apply.

    Perhaps from sheer pettiness, being self-conscious or any number of potential answers, she would not try an alternative like a bus or train ride. And so, nothing but a slow walk awaited Tatyana if she wanted to get around Seyfelt.

    Not that she minded too much, with the relaxed but constant physical activity pleasantly getting rid of her morning dullness, but a walk that could last up to an hour and a half or even two hours was certain to become boring at some point.

    Seyfelt, in the first place, was not a morning city. Vehicles and passersby alike, on top of indistinct, were far from numerous, making Tatyana all too aware of the time she had not cared to check before going out.

    The lack of otherwise interesting elements forcing her to look for narrower details, she managed to glance at a few police posters depicting the usual masked thug, an occasional breakfast truck, as well as children arriving to school through a bus or their parents¡¯ vehicles.

    All in all, nothing that could stop Tatyana from sighing quite a few times in her boredom.

    But ultimately, a walk with a clear destination in mind was still but a temporary affair. Its end, much to the brunette¡¯s delight, made itself clearly present through the enormous structure coming into her sight.

    That is, some could call it a ¡®structure¡¯ in singular; but much like in the case of several universities, the facility in view consisted of a series of various buildings which, if not for their defining architecture, seamlessly blended in with the rest of the city as one walked.

    Tall. Wide. Layered. The establishment¡¯s buildings were distinct among themselves, but retained some sense of identity through their exteriors of bluish, glass-like material, complemented with ¡®skeletons¡¯ of more seemingly durable build standardized in clear, almost glisteningly gray colors.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    To an onlooker who was not familiar with them, however, the most striking trait of these buildings would go unnoticed. And that was the almost excessive number of runes placed on and around them, controlling systems that ranged from simple communications, down to specialized defense and even evacuation teleporters. Tatyana could not identify the purpose of each rune, and she doubted anyone but the engineers or handlers could, but their number and presence were apparent-enough.

    Compared to that, the floating letters of light spelling each building¡¯s name, as well as the emblem of three spears crossed in front of a moon, were hardly worth any attention. No less pretentious at that, though.

    Just as tacky as in the non-Seyfelt facilities.

    Tatyana let out a breath of annoyance that instantly became visible from the cold, then braved the first building¡¯s door as it shifted away from its material form.

    Yeah¡­ I should have probably checked beforehand which one I¡¯m supposed to go in¡­

    <hr>

    Third building¡­ and success. With a face looking slightly more annoyed than before, Tatyana entered one of the larger buildings, this one six stories tall.

    It was nice of them to point me in the right direction just now, but is it truly fine to leave that first place unmanned? I know the period has technically not started, but still¡­

    Only barely hiding a yawn behind her raised hand, the girl scanned her surroundings with attention that was only slightly above what she appeared to give. Nonetheless, that was enough to find the counter she was supposed to find within the lobby.

    That, and some fellow ¡®aspirants¡¯. A line per se was not present, but it was more than likely these were people waiting for similar reasons as hers.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Tatyana walked across the lobby not too quickly, taking in what she saw with interest that could finally be called proper before sitting, or perhaps slumping, down on one of the available couches.

    She ignored the half-minded gaze of the young woman fiddling with a purely holographic screen. Walked past the bronze-skinned male teenager tinkering with a smoothly mobile prosthetic arm. Briefly glared at the boy who couldn¡¯t be older than fifteen currently occupying the attention of the clerks, going through the proper procedure to withdraw a contraption adorned with conspicuously fluorescent linings. Even the petite girl with irises going beyond maroon and into the truly red failed to trigger any notable reaction from Tatyana.

    The presence of abnormal eye or hair colors was of course rare, but it was known as a consequence of exposure to certain phenomena. And when it came to the other sights, motives could in fact be even more commonplace.

    And thus, the uneventful wait of Tatyana Nesterova resumed as she rubbed her own arms and struggled to keep her eyes open.

    With this cold, I could just go back to sleep¡­ what¡¯s the point of doing this in the morning!?

    The girl¡¯s tendency to rush responsibility when it caught up to her was certainly not one of her appeal points. But this went beyond that.

    Tatyana was not particularly patient, but even she was genuine in noticing as her wait quickly became minutes, and then hours. The wait was only briefly broken from time to time as people waiting alongside her stood up to take care of their own business, replacing the person who came before. Broken by people who arrived and got almost instant attention, apparently due to booking their time in advance.

    Tatyana had to restrain herself from unleashing the cry of a true beast any time one of these arrived.

    But much like with her earlier walk, even if time seems to pass so slowly as to be unchanging, it is soon proven to never truly be so.

    ¡°Do you need assistance?¡±

    The clerk¡¯s question snapped Tatyana out of her dangerously sleep-prone status, and she proceeded to the desk after standing up from the couch with a slight wobble.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m confirming my registration.¡±

    ¡°Name?¡±

    ¡°Tatyana Nesterova.¡±

    Before even hearing the girl¡¯s reply, the clerk had begun moving his fingers in a quick gesture. In response, several screens of light much like that handled by the woman from earlier manifested quickly.

    Several taps, a few swipes. It had only been ten seconds perhaps, but Tatyana once more felt annoyed idleness creeping up inside her.

    ¡°Mm, alright. You may come in for the final tests.¡±

    On the clerk¡¯s words, another shifting door, made of what appeared to be more translucent glass, disappeared into apparent particles of light.

    ¡°Alright¡­¡±

    At this point, Tatyana felt like she could fall asleep even while still standing, so she decided to hurry along as if dealing with an actual time bomb.

    Walking through the door which quickly recovered its solid shape afterward, she made her way down a moderately long corridor without a single window. Only solid, metallic walls surrounded Tatyana now, visibility maintained by the luminous lining running down walls, ceiling and floor.

    The reasons for such a structure were obvious, so her pace did not slow down at all. She walked more, went down an elevator that silently descended without the need for any other machinery, and ultimately reached another shifting door.

    The testing room, illuminated by the same linings as the corridor, spread as a rough ¡®cube¡¯, perhaps twenty-five or so meters both in depth and height. The measurement devices, naturally, were well hidden to prevent possible inaccuracies or exploits.

    [Tatyana Nesterova, do you hear us well?]

    ¡°Sure, sure. So, what am I to do here?¡± Replying to the voice echoing from the hidden speakers without much concern, Tatyana clearly wanted to end things as soon as possible.

    [While you are registering at this facility only today, you are already an established knight cadet. So, if you please, a manifestation and extension of your Area of Influence to confirm your ability matches the file would be enough.]

    Hearing the standards, Tatyana let out a sigh of relief. This day had been the epitome of a torturous drag, so a simple request to conclude this annoyance she had put off for so long was something she could appreciate.

    ¡°Alright. Just give me a second, then.¡±

    With such words, the girl briefly closed her eyes.

    Per a ¡®motion¡¯ practiced countless times, the thousands of invisible ¡®vents¡¯ spread among her cells were opened much like one¡¯s windpipe when breathing. Taking in the substance present in the air itself, the feeling of innumerable, ghostly needles piercing her skin made Tatyana aware of the process¡¯ success.

    The body became a filter, as the substance filling the ¡®vents¡¯ to capacity smoothly circulated through each of them, and back outside. The alert-like discomfort of a mere person daring to change the world itself continued to pulsate, and when the substance finally exited, an ache to match its entrance appeared. Yet, if the intake was the sharpness of many needles¡¯ stabs, then the exit was the scorch of dense magma seeping out.

    Changed throughout its journey, however, the substance became something new. Invisible when resting in the air¡­ brilliant flames of a silver color manifested and grew around Tatyana, hurting neither a hair on her head nor the clothes on her body.

    To take in the prana in one¡¯s surroundings, break it down and recompose it within the body through proper technique and willpower, before expelling it in a new state. The phenomenon called sorcery as the process, a spell as the product.

    One of the essential marks of a knight was thus demonstrated by the cadet, Tatyana Nesterova.

    [Excellent. Consider your reputation as conveyed by your file to be proven, Cadet Nesterova.]

    ¡°Mm, thank you, I guess?¡±

    Stopping the growth of the silver flames, which now reached as far as ten meters beyond her, Tatyana replied nonchalantly.

    Despite the complexity of the process required for her use of sorcery, no more than three seconds had passed since her initial intake of the prana in the air.

    In less than a second, the flames had become utterly still. And not even in two more, they had subsided without a trace, not a single burn on any spot of the room.

    ¡°You just mentioned to do this so¡­ can I go now?¡±

    [You may go in peace, Cadet. While the higher ups will be looking forward to your performance, today is still a day off of the proper period. The doors are all open for you.]

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Turning around, Tatyana saw the shifting door disintegrate as it to match the man on the speaker. As dry as that.

    ¡°¡­ Okay.¡±

    In a display perhaps too impolite for some, Tatyana shoved her still somewhat cold hands back into her jacket¡¯s pockets as she walked back out without any more words.

    For such an excruciatingly long wait, and her brother¡¯s non-stop nagging about it, her registration in the Seyfelt station of the Alpheratz Knight Corps went by pretty anti-climactically.

    <hr>

    The world commonly known as Tellus was no stranger to conflict.

    Despite being increasingly dismissed under the justification of mythological embellishment, the eternally popular War of the Seven Gods story was a great example of how deeply ingrained the concept of battle was within most cultures on the planet, even to modern day. Yet beyond it, hardly anyone would call something with the echoing impact of the First Calamity out for any significant falsehood.

    The perpetual clash of the Dragon Lords leading landmass the size of a large country to still be completely ignored, criminal syndicates such as the Moons¡¯ Cartel thriving due to military strength on par with entire state unions¡­ and of course, the Second Calamity; which had occurred a mere four years ago and left many still fresh marks.

    Yet for such a scarred planet, the phenomenon the Alpheratz Knight Corps responded to as a priority was still quite special. Not lacking in damage done, nor minor in effect scope, what made it significant was its very nature.

    From roughly two centuries ago to the present day, with no sign of slowing down and much less stopping; sporadic contact between Tellus and a whole other world, termed Nox, had been an important reality to every Tellus native. Contact which, perhaps inevitably, resulted in battle lasting just as long.

    The ¡®Demons¡¯ of Nox were incapable of surviving in Tellus¡¯ atmosphere and viceversa, unless in the nearby presence of a contact Rift, yet their destructive potential was enough to make these brief bursts of activity so dangerous as to burn away any possible relief carried by that fact.

    Strength was needed. Powerful Tellus natives, trained to combat the otherworldly threat to their absolute limit.

    Funded by numerous territories, yet answering to the authority of none, the military force known as the Alpheratz Knight Corps was born soon after the first instances of contact.

    But of course, such a dramatic tale would speak more deeply to some than to others.

    So when it came to fourth-year cadet Tatyana Nesterova, she was quite often preoccupied by things other than the noble mission she had signed up for. Such as the fact that when she exited the training facility¡¯s grounds, dusk had long begun to settle.

    An involuntary swear escaped her lips from the surprise. She knew several hours had passed during her wait, but this was so ridiculous she visibly frowned.

    This means that I have gone almost the whole day without¡­

    Her own stomach promptly answered that question without any mercy. Beyond rumbling, a roar like a furious lion¡¯s was heard even by some others on the sidewalk, causing Tatyana¡¯s best poker face to heat up against her strongest wishes.

    Still, her embarrassment quickly subsided as soon as she remembered the length of the walk from her residence to the facility¡­ and the inevitable parallel in her return trip.

    Before being able to eat something, would she have to walk over an hour again?!

    ¡°Aaa¡­¡± Tatyana audibly groaned, not minding the people around her this time.

    Not all hope was lost, however. There were a couple of alternative solutions to her nourishment trouble.

    Hand in bag, passcode entered, and speed dial to the most frequent contact¡­ only to be left hanging after a while.

    Is she really going to do this to me now!?

    With a gaze intense enough to freeze a bird mid-flight from sheer terror, Tatyana called again, and again¡­

    Finally, on the fourth time¡­

    ¡°(You miss me so much? Four calls when I¡¯m at work!)¡± The jovial, perhaps sarcastic voice of Kloel Nacht, with a confident tone all kinds of people could find charming, replied nonchalantly.

    This was not amusing in the slightest to Tatyana, who tightened her grip on the phone enough that the plastic casing was audibly shifted.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re on break right now! Why¡¯d you take so long!?¡±

    ¡°(You really remember my shift to the letter? I feel so special~.)¡±

    To hear her deflecting the actual topic of concern so shamelessly, Tatyana was on the verge of breaking the poor device by now.

    However, before a venom-filled response could be let out, the unconcerned girl spoke up again.

    ¡°(How¡¯d the test go?)¡±

    ¡°¡­ Done in less than a minute. They just wanted to confirm the info in my file was the real deal, so all I had to do was a normal demonstration.¡±

    Tatyana was not quite surprised by her sudden concern, but hearing it come out so genuinely did cause her mood to soften slightly.

    Not that it would remain such for long, though.

    ¡°(¡­ P-Pffft! And you woke up so early for that!?)¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll actually beat your ass!¡±

    ¡­ After such a yell, no passersby remained within six meters of Tatyana.

    But as if such a choleric reaction were the only possible result, right into the obvious, the girl on the other side of the line did not change her tone in the slightest. Neither threatened, nor worried.

    ¡°(Come on. If you¡¯re so annoyed by it, how about you do something to take your mind off the whole thing?)¡±

    ¡°Like what¡­?¡±

    With Klo so flippant about Tatyana¡¯s current frustration, the annoyed girl could not imagine anything but self-serving drivel coming out as a suggestion.

    ¡°(Hmm, you could go get me some Concert¡¯s, for example~.)¡±

    And of course, she could not be any more correct. So right as to feel a cartoonish level of irritation.

    ¡°¡­ You want me to get you dinner?¡± To some, the awkwardly calm tone Tatyana took now could seem even more intimidating.

    ¡°(I know you have ears.)¡±

    Klo was not one of those people. But this time, Tatyana did not give her a treat to another outburst.

    Reacting in the proper way to each of these baffling responses would likely take way too long. Especially since thinking about it more clearly, this was an oddly well-timed request.

    Tatyana had, after all, called Klo as a way to get an easier meal in the face of her stomach¡¯s now beast-like roars. Getting herself a meal while buying Klo¡¯s as well was quite efficient.

    This was not how Tatyana¡¯s idea of an efficient plan would go about, however.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just make yourself something at home and take it with you?¡± A reply so abnormally held back that Tatyana almost felt pain, though it was still the best way to find any value in the conversation.

    I thought I could have that in return for a random favor!

    Her inner voice was not as restrained. Not that Klo would know or care.

    ¡°(You know cooking is more your thing than mine, and there wasn¡¯t anything I really craved for in the fridge.)¡±

    ¡°Good grief¡­ Wait, so you also went on without lunch?¡±

    The smirk of trouble-deflection at the other end of the line was almost painfully obvious, even in the lack of any identifying sound.

    So she¡¯s in the same boat as me¡­

    Half-disappointed her original plan was doomed from the start, yet also half-reluctant to neglect her friend in distress, Tatyana reconsidered her possible options.

    Despite what some might say of the Nesterova lass, she was not the kind to ignore a need in others that she was also troubled by.

    Especially if the more significant portion of leverage happened to find itself on her side of the court¡­

    ¡°¡­ So long as you pay me back today or tomorrow, just tell me what you want from Concert¡¯s. You¡¯ll also be paying for my meal.¡± Tatyana uttered casually as she resumed her walk with a more proper pace.

    ¡°(You¡¯re going to tax me for this?! Tanya, please¡­)¡±

    ¡°Do you want dinner from Concert or not?¡±

    Playing mercilessly onto that leverage, a somewhat brutal smirk made its appearance on Tatyana¡¯s charming, yet fierce visage.

    ¡°(¡­ I guess I did get my paycheck last week¡­ will you get my favorite?)¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure. I¡¯ll even carry it all carefully and such, no sweat.¡±

    As if the relentless teasing and passionate aggression from each respective side had been a complete illusion, the conversation of two teenage girls had evolved into the most casual of friendly banter.

    ¡°(I don¡¯t know if to say this, since I¡¯m treating both of us now, but¡ª)¡±

    ¡°Just thank me normally! I¡¯m going out of my way to get you takeout!¡±

    Under a shell that could sometimes be sharp, occasionally poisonous, the honesty of two could be found.

    ¡°(Fine¡­ Thanks, Tanya. I¡¯m playing it cool but I¡¯m almost at the point of sneaking away a snack from a patron¡¯s order. If you hadn¡¯t called, I was thinking on which of the girls to trick into doing it for me.)¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re horrible¡­ not that I blame you. I¡¯ll be there in like an hour? Hour and a half? I¡¯ll give you a call when I¡¯m there.¡±

    ¡°(Wait, did you also¡ª)¡±

    The click of a finished call was the last thing Tatyana heard. Per her own action, of course.

    Phone silenced, locked, and off.

    To think she found out at the end¡­ but what I don¡¯t hear won¡¯t embarrass me! Haha!

    And so, with an utterly masterful display of self-manipulation, peace with no strings attached reigned.

    While such relief found its place within her body, a sigh quite visible from the cold escaped Tatyana¡¯s lips.

    Looking up into the distance of a Seyfelt that steadily became more active, she continued to make her way toward the downtown.

 I-2: Moonlit Masquerade

    For people new to the place as well as the occasional tourists, the difference between daytime and nighttime Seyfelt was one of its most unique traits.

    Somewhat akin to a university town, the newish city had developed rapidly due to the efforts of young entrepreneurs and professionals with little to lose, looking to make a large profit off of the numerous knight cadets living in the vicinity, their families, workers and even researchers employed by the training facility.

    All in all, people very likely to need relaxation and ¡®fun¡¯ of any kind. People very likely to spend big money on leisure.

    On this topic, however, it should be said that the wonder of nighttime Seyfelt did not prevail across all of the city¡¯s extent. A territory commonly distinguished into a number of zones, or ¡®districts¡¯, as called by its population.

    Were one to just be aware of the residential district, the one closest to most schools as well as the knight training facility, not much difference would be noticed between day and night. A location dominated by different apartment complexes and necessity stores, most of the daily activity would be centered around the relatively small and few train stations.

    For other areas, such as the casually called education and business districts, the situation was quite similar. However, there were few people who would not ignore how these zones appeared in favor of the much more imposing entertainment district.

    Encompassing somewhat over half of the city¡¯s territory by itself, it represented in full the impressive display of nighttime Seyfelt. From fast food joints to truly high-end restaurants, further into numerous clubs as well as specialty stores of all kinds¡­ the areas of highest traffic were illuminated by so many lights one would not notice night had arrived unless they directly looked up at the sky.

    Such clubs, whether exclusive or not, were very noticeable even from a whole block away. Street performers and independent sellers crowded many of the most popular streets, and if one knew where to look and who to ask, stores and service providers for much more niche resources and recreation were also present.

    Residences were also present in the entertainment district, but of course, this was the section of the city in which complaints about light or noise would only earn one a look of disbelief, followed by either amusement or anger at one¡¯s ignorance.

    While Tatyana was not the type to spend that much time in the entertainment district like many of her peers did, the amusement she got from just walking around the busy, illuminated streets tinged with the echo of club music certainly beat anything she got out of her earlier walk. At the end of the day, it was not surprising a teenage girl would feel more at home in a den of leisure.

    And still, it was not like the entertainment district only offered enjoyment for those whose behavior some might call decadent. One such example being Tatyana¡¯s destination at the end of the next sidewalk.

    Le Petit Concert was actually more of a medium-sized establishment. An independent bistro with both casual and high-end options, it was a business with wide appeal reaching not only the older teenagers and young adults that made up most of the entertainment district¡¯s customer base, but also older adults looking for an adequate place to meet up with coworkers and associates.

    With good and varied meal options as well as a moderately elegant aesthetic without being overbearing, it was quite an easy place to like. At least this was the case for Tatyana and Klo, who had made a habit of eating at Concert almost weekly ever since discovering it.

    Such was their patronage that from time to time¡­

    ¡°Hey there, Noelle.¡±

    ¡°Mm? Oh, hi! How¡¯s it been?¡±

    ¡­ warm greetings from employees in turn were not uncommon.

    Tatyana finished walking through the hard glass door on such talk, the varnished wood of both the tables and the floor already a usual, but pleasant sight. Soft music as to not be bothersome yet still clearly present, as well as interior colors in black to beige and brown.

    ¡°Could be better, but you¡¯ll have it pretty good. Haven¡¯t eaten anything since morning.¡± That modest, yet classy look she enjoyed was still not enough to make her tone more amiable, though.

    ¡°Then no wonder you look like a toddler put gum in your hair.¡± Yet to the woman in question, this was seemingly par for the course.

    Wearing a black, long-sleeved turtleneck top alongside dark jeans and sneakers, no one would be blamed in thinking the auburn-haired twenty-something was just another customer. This was doubly the case when compared to the waitress she had just been talking to, who, in contrast, was sharply dressed in the long-sleeved, white dress shirt with dark slacks and dress shoes that were so common among the other visible employees.

    Still, in spite of the former¡¯s unfittingly casual wear, Tatyana was aware the young woman called Noelle was the establishment¡¯s manager.

    Being the owner¡¯s stepdaughter as well, she had run into a fair bit of trouble with the man for such habitual presentation. Though not nearly enough to get her to stop, it seemed.

    Not that Tatyana would call such personal choices into question; it was something she enjoyed, if anything.

    ¡°It¡¯ll still be a while before we close, so¡­ Table for one?¡± A feeling she thought was shared on the friendly Noelle¡¯s end.

    ¡°Not for long. I¡¯m having the cream seafood pasta and the tomato risotto, both to go.¡±

    Guided by the waitress over to one of the empty tables, Tatyana spoke without interruption as she sat down, not letting the worker so much as pull the chair out for her.

    ¡°¡­? So that¡¯s why you¡¯re here alone for a change. Miss Pretty having you do delivery for you both?¡± To Noelle, only her words were worth any wonder.

    ¡°Just go have my order made.¡±

    ¡°You know that¡¯s why you have an employee tending to you, right? Am I just painted in place?¡±

    Though this time, the reply came from the black-haired, properly-dressed waitress; with enough intensity to make even the flippant Tatyana jerk her head in surprise.

    ¡°R-Right. Sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°¡­ It¡¯s cool.¡±

    With a face that almost screamed things were everything but cool, the waitress let out a brief sigh before making her way down the establishment, over to the quite visible service area.

    ¡°Well, someone¡¯s snappier than usual. Busy day?¡± Still slightly startled, Tatyana could not help but bring up the waitress¡¯ small outburst into conversation.

    ¡°Not quite, but she¡¯s been doing overtime for a while. Please don¡¯t hold it against her.¡±

    To Noelle¡¯s resigned retort, Tatyana only offered a smirk as she let a cheek rest on her hand.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t. For me at least, it is cool. I¡¯m more that kind of person, you know?¡±

    ¡°¡­ You mean a total grouch?¡±

    ¡°How about we see if my risotto can turn your hair red for real?¡±

    At this point, Noelle could not hold back anymore, her laughter vulgar enough in its loudness to cause one or two patrons to turn their heads for a moment.

    ¡°Haah¡­ You and that guy-muncher BFF of yours, it¡¯s always the best when you come over.¡±

    Definitely not the reaction Tatyana¡¯s rebuttal aimed for, but unexpected? It certainly was not.

    ¡°Mm. Want to catch up until my food is ready?¡±

    ¡°Do you even need to as¡ª¡±

    ¡°Movies.¡± The black-haired waitress stated dryly, hitting Noelle on the back of her head with a menu as she passed by to another area of the bistro.

    Has she been eavesdropping from all the way back there!?

    Tatyana half-seriously wondered if she had enhanced her senses with prana, but was promptly brought out of such thoughts by Noelle¡¯s own response.

    ¡°R-Right¡­ sorry, Tanya; but I kind of have plans with my dad to watch a couple of movies at home tonight, and he¡¯ll probably get to my apartment before me unless I rush like there¡¯s a fire under my¡ª¡±

    ¡°I got it, ok? Geez¡­ so that¡¯s why I hadn¡¯t seen the owner around. Quality time night for you two?¡±

    ¡°I guess so. He said we hadn¡¯t done anything together in so long. I mean, we work together and all, but¡­¡±

    Noelle¡¯s speech could sound like part complaints, part bragging depending on the person listening. For someone who was usually so savvy and quick-witted when it came to poking fun at others, Tatyana thought this manager lacked a heavy amount of self-awareness.

    Not that she could ever become upset at a friend getting to have fun with her father, even if she herself was ditched as a result.

    ¡°Just go or else I¡¯ll be the one to light that fire you mentioned.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Got you. Say hi to Kloel for me~.¡±

    Despite potential danger to her rear end now on the table, Noelle began taking out her keys and phone in as relaxed as a rush off could be.

    And of course, that meant Tatyana was left alone to wait¡­ for the second time today.

    Oh no¡­ the flashbacks¡­

    She only waited for something in the ballpark of ten to fifteen minutes.

    Standard for a restaurant meal, but still enough to remind her body itself of the hours of wait back at the training facility. Tatyana became aware yet again of the horrors of waiting in an outing without someone to talk to.

    And despite that, it seemed there was still someone enduring greater agony.

    ¡°[dying. if i dont get food soon ill take you down with me]¡±

    Text message. Klo.

    ¡°¡­¡­¡±

    Tatyana stared at it for a solid two seconds, half in concern and half in irritation, before beginning to look around.

    The waitress¡­ was busy with other tables. The same went for the few other employees that remained near closing hours.

    Normally, someone would probably wait for the first of them to finish their business and try to call them over to ask how much longer the food would take.

    But of course, waiting for any other thing was not something Tatyana was willing to do.

    Decisively standing from her chair, the girl made her way to the service area in a display some would call bold, others rude. None she would concern herself with, though.

    Le Petit Concert¡¯s main service counter was connected to the establishment¡¯s kitchen, the smells of diverse cooking doing wonders to further whet the appetite of any diners and torture Tatyana with every step she took.

    By the time she arrived, the girl felt like she had traversed a desert on slippers. Already uncaring before, she was utterly unhesitant in ringing the bell only employees should use.

    The call was swiftly responded by who had to be one of the cooks, an early twenties-looking male with a notable scar on the side of his lip, wearing a plain black shirt and a similarly colored bandana for his head.

    The young man¡¯s initial surprised look could have been amusing, had it not changed into a reproachful look right after.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re a regular and all but ringing the bell is still too much.¡±

    ¡°Come on, it¡¯s no different from anyone else rushing you. I have a friend threatening to bury me sixty years too early so how long till the seafood pasta and tomato risotto are ready?¡±

    The scarred-lip man drew breath as if to reply further, but in quite an impressive split-second display of decision-making, smoothly turned toward the kitchen instead.

    ¡°How long on the risotto and seafood pasta!?¡±

    ¡°Walking, walking!¡±

    Thusly, not even a minute more passed before two to-go boxes were brought over to the service counter inside a plastic bag, by a person whom Tatyana did not expect to see.

    A young man dressed in the same black shirt and bandana as Scarred-Lip, but maybe around Tatyana¡¯s age instead. Though with the average Concert employee being pretty young, this was not surprising at all.

    Rather¡­

    ¡°¡­ Weren¡¯t you a waiter here? Are you switching over?¡±

    The male teenager turned to her in another slightly amusing display of wonder. Perhaps from seeing Tatyana at the counter, or maybe from being addressed all of a sudden when in a work mood. Maybe both?

    Not that it impeded his reply for too long.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m a waiter during the day hours, but work in the kitchen for the later shift.¡±

    ¡°And we are oh so grateful~!¡± Exclaimed Scarred-Lip in a frustratingly friendlier tone than what he used with Tatyana.

    Isn¡¯t that basically full-time?

    She did not spend much more time dwelling on that as she was addressed again.

    ¡°Can you wait just a minute more?¡±

    ¡°Mm? Sure, but why?¡±

    The young man walked off quickly, fast enough to seemingly not hear the last part of Tatyana¡¯s reply, judging from his lack of a response. Effectively, around a minute later, he had come back with a third, smaller to-go box.

    ¡°What¡¯s with this?¡±

    It was confusing to say the least. Tatyana had asked for two orders and heard confirmations for only those two. The cook answered in what felt like a split-second too quick.

    ¡°Cheesecake. We had leftover slices from an employee celebration today and the manager mentioned how nice it would be if you and your friend got to try it out. A special thanks for your patronage, or something.¡±

    ¡°Huh¡­ mm, thanks then. That¡¯s really cool of Noelle.¡± She replied, unable to prevent a slight smile from crawling up.

    Receiving a present without warning was many times the root of complex feelings and awkward attempts at reciprocity. Tatyana was not exempt from such basic social struggles, feeling at a loss just like many others would.

    But it would have been a lie to say no pleasant feelings arose from such natural kindness. Especially when coming from the people at a restaurant she liked; not friends, family, or even classmates.

    The certainty of shared fondness, beyond the service she actually paid for, was certainly enjoyable.

    ¡°Anything else you need?¡±

    Scarred-Lip¡¯s question, direct but noticeably softer than before, brought Tatyana to attention once more.

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good. Thanks a lot, for the cake and everything. Tell that to Noelle and the owner too when you can, okay?¡±

    Placing the third box inside the bag, she picked it up and waved at the two cooks before they went back to work, as well as at the black-haired waitress after paying at the counter she was operating. Making her way out of the establishment, Tatyana was unable to weaken her smirk in any way.

    An experience much more pleasant than already good expectations, that was Le Petit Concert¡¯s true specialty.

    <hr>

    Klo¡¯s workplace was not too far from Concert. It was such proximity that made Tatyana and her aware of the bistro in the first place.

    The entertainment district was no stranger to high-rise, fancy hotels, but few of them could boast about (regretted?) the presence of services popular enough that even non-guests visited regularly.

    The local hotel of the Becquerel Resorts brand was one of such, with the presence of the Noctis Lilin bar on its base floor, serving as one of the entrances, making up more of its revenue than it would care to admit.

    Yet going around the final corner to reach her stop, Tatyana was greeted by a sight quite more distasteful than the expected vomiting drunks and thrown-out quarrelers.

    ¡°¡ªome on, it¡¯s been a whole month. Tips all the way and I even helped you all kick out that fucking snob the other day! The least you can do is give me one chance¡­¡±

    A somewhat tall man around twenty years old with side-cropped hair, quite cared for looks¡­

    ¡°Mich, I do appreciate all you¡¯ve done, but I just don¡¯t see you that way. Staying hung up on me is just worse for you, seriously.¡±

    ¡­ and a delicately-featured, dark-skinned knockout with black hair and ears lengthened into points, argued in a way that was still somewhat calm, but obviously escalating under the neon lights of the bar¡¯s entrance, bouncers nowhere to be seen.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Tatyana¡¯s frown deepened as if she were forced to smell manure as she walked toward them, hearing increasingly more.

    ¡°See, this is the problem! You keep calling me ¡®Mich¡¯ or ¡®sweetie¡¯ or whatever without thinking of how that makes me feel after a while!¡±

    ¡°What do you want me to do? Stop being cool with people because they might misunderstand?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get it¡­ You really don¡¯t get it! Look, I¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    Everything ended the moment ¡®Mich¡¯ frantically reached for the point-eared girl¡¯s arm.

    Not through anything done by either party in the argument, though. Rather by Tatyana tapping his arm from below, causing Mich to hit his face with his own hand.

    ¡°O-Ow! What the fuck¡­!? What¡¯s your prob¡ª¡±

    ¡°Out, now. This has taken enough time so if you don¡¯t scram, I¡¯ll call the cooler to help you out.¡± The ponytailed brunette stated dryly, her look so merciless that the aggressive Mich¡­

    ¡°¡­ Whatever¡­ Fuck this.¡±

    ¡­ walked off to his car, driving away into the mildly lit streets by the next minute.

    Not that the cooler would treat me any better if I went to get her, rather than deal with the asshole in my sight¡­

    The issue luckily being solved before spiraling any further out of control, Tatyana turned to the point-eared girl next.

    A girl who looked back at her with a less than impressed, deadpan face.

    ¡°You really won¡¯t let me deal with a problem on my own, will you?¡±

    ¡°He was getting violent, and he can always go cry at the police station if you don¡¯t take kindly to it.¡± Not that Tatyana was any less tough with her reply as a result.

    ¡°He was just trying to grab my arm. I can handle that without a problem.¡±

    ¡°You know better than me how bullshit violence standards can get when it comes to elves. People have been arrested for simply pushing someone and I¡¯m not taking the risk, Klo.¡±

    Klo saw no point in arguing further when that topic was the concern. Even if Tatyana¡¯s tone could be deemed patronizing by some, that careless bluntness was something any friend of hers would get used to at some point. For the elven girl herself, it was at the point she had probably predicted her answer the moment she herself spoke.

    ¡°Sure, sure. But it¡¯s not like some normie can do anything serious to me before the bouncers notice what¡¯s up, right?¡±

    By extension, she also knew which replies were the best to deal with her once she gave it some thought.

    ¡°¡­ I guess, but some people are so oblivious. You even brought him outside and called the bouncers away to not embarrass him much, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just too good for this sinful world~.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­ I take it you also told Aaron to stay out of it?¡±

    Just having opened the door to the Noctis Lilin bar, Klo turned to Tatyana with somewhat disillusioned eyes.

    ¡°Aaron and I broke up.¡±

    Tatyana could have sworn she heard a bell¡¯s nasty ring.

    ¡°Say what? When!?¡±

    ¡°Yesterday, of course. Why do you think I stayed the night at our place?¡±

    ¡­ That last statement could have certainly been considered offensive by any roommate, let alone Tatyana. But the girl had other things to be concerned with.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s weird but like¡­ what happ¡ª¡±

    ¡°ID.¡±

    The gruff voice of the tall bouncer in front of the reception counter disrupted Tatyana¡¯s talk with a timing and intensity that must have been intentional.

    The girl sighed, made way into her pocket and promptly showed the recently renewed knight (cadet) ID on her phone screen.

    ¡°We good now?¡±

    ¡°Mm, we good.¡±

    The male thirty-something replied without hesitation as he opened the way to the bar, no more complaints.

    The same could not be said for Tatyana.

    ¡°Dude, Sam. I come here at least once a week, you know me. Can¡¯t you just lay down on the fancy protocol for once¡ª¡±

    ¡°You asked if we were good and I said we are. Do you disagree?¡±

    Yet when confronted with the man¡¯s powerful eyes¡­

    ¡°... No, I don¡¯t. It¡¯s cool.¡±

    ¡­ even Tatyana did not feel like proceeding.

    Wait, eyes? Nah, it has to be the mustache. Really can¡¯t trust a man in their prime sporting some lumberjack ¡®stache!

    ¡°P-Pfft¡­!¡±

    Though Klo¡¯s reaction as they made it in, greeted by colorful lights flickering to the tune of Your Love is my Oasis, almost made her wish she had.

    ¡°Y-You actually got spooked, hahaha~!¡±

    ¡°Fuck you, that¡¯s not it. Let¡¯s just find a table.¡± Tatyana could not have been more thankful for the bar¡¯s intermittent lighting, which helped mask her slightly reddened cheeks.

    Traversing smaller tables and diverse customers across the black hardwood floor, Tatyana and Klo waved at the dirty-blonde mid-twenties and the caramel-eyed forty-something bartenders in turn, the latter of which pointed them to a miraculously unoccupied booth by the windows.

    Taking care to avoid or cause any drink spills, the two girls sat almost by sliding into the comfortably chilled cushion seats. Stress quickly escaped Tatyana¡¯s body like air out of an untied balloon.

    ¡°Can I add one more to the list of things on par with taking your bra off~?¡±

    A Klo comparison Tatyana could wholeheartedly agree with accompanying the moment, she could not have asked for much more.

    ¡°Maybe. But for now¡­ nutrients.¡±

    As soon as Tatyana lifted the bag carrying Concert¡¯s to-go boxes, she saw stars in Klo¡¯s eyes.

    Two sets of forks knife and spoon ready on the booth, not even a minute had passed when the two girls were ravaging risotto and pasta without mercy.

    They may have waited for over half a day, but there was no trace of disappointment in either of their faces. So powerful was the feeling of a delicious bite after enduring hunger for so long.

    The mixture of acidity and sweetness from the creamy tomato broth, uniform but not mushy grains of rice, complemented with chopped pieces of pancetta and mushrooms¡­

    Tatyana honestly felt like adding to the list Klo talked about, and her elven friend seemed to be in the exact same situation with her pasta.

    The lack of accompanying drinks did not even cross their minds until they were almost finished.

    ¡°Hah¡­ so, cocktail or water?¡± Groaning in an immodest way to say the least, Klo asked while calling over the dirty-blonde bartender with a light hand gesture.

    ¡°First one, then the other. I really needed this¡­¡±

    ¡°Got you, girl. Lisa, we¡¯ll have a Lemon Ball, an Archipelago Sling and two water bottles.¡±

    The worker¡¯s honey-colored, shoulder-length hair waving slightly as she walked gave off a refreshing feeling. One that was mercilessly contrasted by her blank expression.

    ¡°You know how annoying it is to get orders outside the counter. Not cool even if you¡¯re paying, Klo.¡±

    Still, despite her protests, Lisa did not stop for one moment as she wrote the orders down and walked back. Only a slightly apologetic wink from Klo was sent her way.

    At long last, all other obstacles were out of Tatyana¡¯s way.

    ¡°So, break up. Tell me the details.¡±

    At least that topic managed to somewhat get past the elf¡¯s flippant display. Taking one of the remaining shrimp on her plate, she leaned back on her seat while replying.

    ¡°His ex came to visit.¡±

    ¡°He cheated on you!?¡±

    ¡°What!? No! Fuck no! Aaron would rather have it chopped off than do that! It¡¯s just¡­ well, it¡¯s painfully obvious how much she still likes him. I was feeling second-hand embarrassment from the moment I met her. And, well¡­ Aaron is a great guy, but he has a lot of emotional baggage I can¡¯t really help him with. He¡¯ll likely do better with someone who still hasn¡¯t given up on him after so long.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    She doesn¡¯t have the best luck with guys, but isn¡¯t this some insanely defeatist reasoning?

    Tatyana could not help but feel unsatisfied. Even so, she accepted once more that some of their differences would always remain, regardless of their friendship. It had always been like that.

    ¡°Alright¡­ then, how did the actual thing go? Any problems with that?¡±

    ¡°Oh, there was crying, from both of us. It made it very hard~!¡±

    The way Klo smirked when recalling such things may have given others the wrong idea, but Tatyana could barely bear it. The more they talked, the worse her mood became.

    ¡°Damn¡­ he was so honest and actually cute. I really thought you guys would make it far.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me. Add to that he really went the extra mile in¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to know that!¡±

    Now she¡¯s just bragging! What happened to all the post-break up depression!?

    Lisa arrived soon with their drinks, and Tatyana immediately took a deep gulp from her Archipelago Sling. A brief thanks and immediate tip while at it, her rising frustration was gradually quelled through the sweet alcohol.

    So engrossed was she in her drink that she did not open her eyes again...

    ¡°What¡¯s with the third box, though?¡±

    ¡­ until Klo spoke up.

    Carefully putting her cocktail aside while licking her upper lip clean, Tatyana glanced at the smaller to-go box that had yet to be opened.

    ¡°Cheesecake, I think?¡±

    ¡°Ohh~! ¡­ Wait, you went out of your way to get cheesecake just because I¡¯m paying!?¡±

    ¡°Bitch, it was on the house. Maybe I should have actually done as you say, but I was too hungry to think of that.¡±

    Perhaps more annoyed at the possibility slipping her mind rather than Klo¡¯s complaint, Tatyana grumbled in a comically obvious way as she took another sip from her Sling.

    Contrasting with Klo, who had let her Lemon Ball rest as her head tilted in curiosity.

    ¡°Cheesecake on the house? How did that happen?¡±

    ¡°Remember the younger waiter? Well, today I learned he¡¯s more of a waiter by day and cook by night. Anyway, he said they had leftovers from some celebration and Noelle wanted us to have them¡­ Okay, what¡¯s the matter?¡± Tatyana asked suddenly, her tone turning aggressive yet again.

    After all, Klo had interlaced her fingers before her lips, narrowing her eyes and smirking in one of the most annoying expressions known to sapient life.

    ¡°Ooohh, nothing at all, just go on~ You nasty girl, you!¡±

    Damn it all¡­ I really should¡¯ve known she would latch onto this now of all times¡­

    Tatyana felt her brow twitch from sheer frustration.

    ¡°I just said, Noelle told him to give us the cheesecake.¡±

    ¡°Sure she did. Sweetie, you¡¯re a rock star in almost everything you set your mind to, but when it comes to reading guys, you¡¯re not even a player.¡±

    The twitching began to spread across her whole body, which only made Klo smile even more.

    ¡°¡­ Whatever. You always turn everything over to that topic.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on~! You know as well as me he¡¯s one of the cuter ones around, and you already have some groundwork! It really can¡¯t hurt to give it a shot, right?¡±

    ¡°Save for coming across as a total narcissist overthinking everything? Like that asshole ¡®Mich¡¯ earlier¡­¡±

    Even Tatyana briefly thought of such a mention as an overly aggressive response to Klo¡¯s mostly friendly teasing, but the dark-skinned elf showed no signs of backing off, somehow looking even more amused.

    ¡°Apples and oranges, Tanya. Guys and girls hint differently, and I¡¯ve actually seen Mr. Waiter often for a change. Come on, just be honest. Are you still waiting to get something going with Yuriy¡ª¡±

    A dry slam. One that miraculously did not break the Archipelago Sling¡¯s glass, forced Klo to stop talking.

    Tatyana may have looked calmer than before, but her irritation was only growing by the second.

    ¡°¡­ It¡¯s not like that with him, and it¡¯s not like that at Concert. Am I clear?¡± She said coldly while finally deciding to open the third to-go box.

    ¡°Whatever helps you with that swollen pride, I guess. I¡¯m just saying, you have some good options to get rid of that frustration, alright~?¡±

    ¡°Even a spoon can take out an eye, you know?¡±

    No words were spoken for the next several seconds.

    Certainly not because of Tatyana¡¯s threat that Klo would have laughed off like any other.

    But rather, due to the two dessert slices they had just dug into. The first morsels brought onto the girls¡¯ palates¡­

    ¡°¡­ Isn¡¯t this¡­?¡±

    ¡°Better than life itself? Fuck yes, it is. How come this isn¡¯t on the menu!?¡±

    ¡­ simply made everything else seem unimportant.

    ¡°Those damn employees keeping the best to themselves, shit!¡±

    The two friends surely deserved some sort of prize from the restraint needed to not ravage the divine dessert within five seconds flat.

    The cream cheese mixture that almost melted the moment it was taken in, the magnificent crisp and richness of the crust and the jelly-like splendor of the fruit-flavored topping. Nothing over the top was needed, simplicity and core fundamentals brought to perfection were enough to put even their main courses to shame.

    Will I live on once we¡¯re finished with it? Wait, no! Don¡¯t think of it being gone! Shit, is this how Oasis addicts feel?! I''d never¡­ never¡­?

    Tatyana¡¯s train of thought was immediately interrupted by something abnormal.

    Even if talking about cadets, the Alpheratz Knight Corps were meant to deal with threats for whom the term ¡®beyond ordinary¡¯ still was lacking. Threats that should be noticed and dealt with as soon as possible, so that tragedy could be avoided or at least mitigated.

    A cadet like Tatyana was no exception, noticing so much by the minute as to live a completely different daily life from the average person. And yet, despite that¡­ something had caught her attention enough to warrant the use of prana-enhanced eyesight.

    Beyond the window, into the night many rooftops away. A dark figure stood at the edge of one such building top.

    The more she looked at it, the more the figure appeared to be that of a person, one who almost seemed to be looking right back at her.

    ¡­ When did I get so paranoid? It¡¯s so far, and I¡¯m behind glass. They¡¯re probably just scouting the streets near them¡­?

    ¡°Tanya? Hey, I¡¯m sorry, ok? I¡¯ll chill on the topic so¡­¡±

    Tatyana did not even register what Klo said, completely distracted by the dark silhouette on the distant rooftop.

    No real details could be made out, mostly due to the distance itself, as well as the half-moon¡¯s backlight hiding any unique features of the person¡¯s attire. Even the barely visible head of hair fluttering in the wind was promptly hidden by what Tatyana could only assume to be a sweater hoodie.

    No real signal beyond that was given, and by the next second, the stranger had leapt further into the darkness of near-winter night.

    ¡°¡­ Tanya?¡±

    By now, Klo had probably noticed she was not being ignored on purpose. The expression on her best friend¡¯s face was something she had not seen very often at all.

    ¡°¡­ Klo, your shift resumes in just a few minutes, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­?¡±

    The ponytailed brunette¡¯s lips slowly curled into a grin, acknowledging the elf¡¯s response.

    ¡°Put my slice in the fridge or have it yourself. I¡¯m going for a walk.¡±

    For Tatyana Nesterova, the curiosity about someone who might have seen her at this distance, only to leave just like that, was worth discarding the remaining bites of such delicious dessert.

    <hr>

    Contrary to the confidence Tatyana left the Noctis Lilin bar with, her search was not going too smoothly.

    Seeing the stranger was one thing, but she had not identified any details beyond a rough body shape, and had no leads beyond the quickly found building they had stood atop of.

    Along with the need to perform her search without being noticed herself, the girl¡¯s mission of equal parts concern and amusement was taking quite some time. A detailed eye-search of the neighborhoods in proximity had yielded nothing, and the actual rooftop where she had spotted the weirdo in question was not faring much better.

    Of all the spells I can do, it really had to be tracking that does me in! Maybe there¡¯s some specialists I can learn from at the facility?

    Such thoughts streamed through Tatyana¡¯s mind as she gave up on finding any meaning in the scraps of prana she perceived around her. Sorcery had been performed on the rooftop for sure, and by the vague ¡®structure¡¯ remaining in such dregs, the recently seen figure had to be the one responsible. But that was the most she could figure out.

    The prana was still too scattered for her to figure out any real direction to follow, and no physical traces she could notice had been left behind. This person had taken everything they owned with them.

    So, an eye-search is still the only real option? It was no good before, but maybe if I try something more unconventional¡­

    A course of action had already formed in Tatyana¡¯s mind as she smirked, glancing not only at the far top of the distant Becquerel Resorts hotel, but at several other high-rise buildings in her line of sight. Height was the only requirement.

    With ease almost like breathing itself, the countless ¡®vents¡¯ within the girl¡¯s body opened to capacity. The pain that naturally came with such a process already being routine, it could not have disturbed her any less.

    The surrounding prana hers to command, Tatyana set forth confidently into the night, the strength needed to jump to the rooftop in one leap from the building¡¯s bottom now overflowing. Her limbs themselves were made into a vehicle for sorcery as she leapt across rooftops, ran up and across building walls without any fear or concern. Crossing dozens of meters by the second, she was but a blur only noticeable to someone actively looking for her, with skill to match her own.

    And as far as Tatyana was concerned, such people were so few as to be negligible.

    Now running up the Becquerel hotel itself as she unintentionally hummed, Tatyana spun a hand, or a finger rather, that quickly became covered in the layered light of her spell.

    And upon reaching the top¡­

    ¡°Freeze.¡±

    ¡­ an unnecessary, but comfortable verbal command spilled from her lips as she tapped the spell around her finger on the side of the roof, placing a briefly visible glyph on it.

    A glyph from which the spun ¡®thread¡¯ around Tatyana¡¯s finger unraveled, the amount left behind being rendered similarly invisible as she rushed away, but with an end of it still attached to the same place.

    The cold wind on her exposed face and hands only a lesser annoyance by now, the girl sped through, ponytail fluttering behind as she repeated the process on several other buildings, tall buildings, across the many neighborhoods.

    Until finally, a relatively uneven, invisible pentagon was completed, with a final tap placing the last stretch of her thread back on the roof of the Becquerel hotel.

    Let¡¯s see if you can hide from me like this!

    Tatyana did not waste a single second more before jumping from the Becquerel hotel¡¯s roof. Not aiming for any other roof or wall, nor letting herself be carried by the wind. Instead, she stood on what appeared to be thin air, the thread spun across now serving as perfect support she could stand on with just a bit of balance needed on her end.

    With a pathway now formed across the tallest buildings in her sight, she could now scout with the widest field of view. Not only that, but by virtue of how high up she was and it being the middle of a half-moon night, she could also remain unnoticed even if she took her time.

    And of course, now that she was able to focus only on her prana-enhanced senses, no real ¡®lack of detail¡¯ problem was a concern anymore.

    But even so¡­

    ¡­ Now that¡¯s weird.

    Walking through her tightrope without difficulty, it was not something outright visible that drew Tatyana¡¯s attention.

    She could barely, but surely feel it through her legs. An intermittent, unusual challenge to the tension of the thread she had placed some distance away, felt through its connection to the one she currently stood on. Almost as if one of the buildings connected to it was undergoing some serious strain.

    Tatyana turned her gaze in that direction, calmly but decisively walking toward as she scouted everything down to the street.

    It was not long before an out of place sight greeted her turquoise eyes. Unclear to others but not so much to her, the flickering outline of two figures violently mingling raised the girl¡¯s wariness several notches.

    Most likely case? A fight. Worst case? A dangerous crime in progress.

    Not good at all.

    There was no more time to idly stroll around. Tatyana did not hesitate for one moment in jumping from the invisible thread all the way to the nearest building¡¯s wall.

    Running down its surface with the grace of an athlete on the ground, she promptly flexed her legs, bouncing off to the edge of a rooftop at medium height. Running across to finish with a leap toward a yet lower one¡­ she saw it all.

    Structural damage, cracks and gouges on buildings as well as a torn fire escape ladder. The five-odd people sprawled around, visibly injured and restrained through some mysterious gray substance. The smashed glass walls of the nearby pub.

    And of course, the lone person standing amidst the strife. Just a meter or so from one of the downed, restrained people, wearing a dark hoodie over a soon turning, masked face.

    A sharp mask made of some dark gray, almost black material that had maybe shone in days past, but was now tainted by wear and damage. The top right part had been torn away, revealing a cloudy gray iris that had now become aware of Tatyana.

    Beyond the legwear with a rough, uneven sort of hard plating spread across, the real danger was held in their right hand.

    Sharpened orichalcum, roughly forty centimeters in length and perhaps five in width with a grayish blue hilt, meant for one hand. Sparks of prana could be perceived when Tatyana focused her eyes some more, circulating rapidly across the unsheathed blade.

    Class Gamma. A training tool? Or it could just be in its resting state...

    The danger of a prana-powered weapon along with so many casualties was all she needed to know.

    Tatyana¡¯s mind switched gears instantly, a ferocity with barely any match now present while she flexed her right hand and the ¡®vents¡¯ in it. Almost as if piercing through, a rampaging stream of silver light manifested in over a meter¡¯s length, grasped tightly as she stepped forth.

    She reached her opponent and struck in a unified motion, gouges in the pavement bursting without delay. Barely able to dodge her sweep in time, the masked stranger¡¯s own attire was deeply gashed.

    ¡°Please wait! It¡¯s not how¡ª¡±

    The desperate voice of a young man reached Tatyana¡¯s ears, but was not even considered. Concerned about the danger of such a weapon and the presence of so many injured people, she swung twice more like a lion might do with an invader.

    The results were not what she expected, however.

    Is he not¡­

    The first strike tore the masked man¡¯s hasty guard apart.

    And the second dug mercilessly into his abdomen.

    ¡­ fighting back!?

    Drowning a cry of pain with a disturbing gasp, the masked man knelt while clutching his side, clothes around it staining with increasing amounts of a dull red wetness.

    Tatyana stopped her assault right then. Partly as the man had clearly been defeated, but mostly out of confusion at his behavior, which had partly led her to deliver a worse injury than intended.

    She could not avoid being caught off guard by the approaching police sirens.

    Coming here now!? But this guy is¡­

    The brief moment in which she turned away was enough, however. Trying to look for him again, the masked man was already disappearing on one of the rooftops.

    Tatyana was left frozen in place by the strange development for some time. At least enough that she failed to notice the two patrol cars parking in the vicinity.

    ¡°Miss¡ª¡±

    ¡°What the f¡­!¡± Leading to a less than elegant reaction when approached. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry, officer. I¡¯m just¡­¡±

    Were it not for the sheer strangeness of the whole situation, her face would have probably been a solid crimson by now.

    ¡°Miss, I wanted to know if you can give me any information about what happened here.¡±

    The police officer in her fifties spoke calmly while pointing at the chaos remaining in the vicinity. Her disposition was professional enough, but her gaze was less than kind.

    ¡°We received a call some seven minutes or so ago about criminal violence at Epsilon Five, the pub with the smashed glass over there. The call was then cut, and we couldn¡¯t track it further than here. So¡­ what can you tell us?¡±

    This cannot be happening to me!

    Tatyana may have been a bit too jumpy from everything going on, but it was still obvious that this officer had pinned her down as a suspect.

    Unfortunately, her stressful experience was yet to end. The worst part heralded by another officer calling out.

    ¡°Martha, you have to check this out. I think this is Scar-Tail!¡± The man around thirty exclaimed jovially while looking down at one of the restrained people.

    Scar-Tail¡­?

    Even Tatyana could have sworn she knew of that name. Perhaps from the news or some of those posters¡­?

    ¡°Are you serious!?¡±

    Officer Martha surprisingly turned, checking for herself with disbelief clear in her slightly wrinkled face. And the more she looked around with her partner, the more intense such an expression became.

    ¡°These accessories, piercings¡­¡±

    ¡°Tats too! This is a Violet Thorn goldmine!¡±

    Violet Thorn. Now that was a name Tatyana was for sure aware of.

    A young city like Seyfelt was, of course, not just lush with opportunities for success by themselves. Where there was economic power, where there was ambition and where there were strong-willed young people, there was also greed, and there was also crime.

    Gangs were rather prevalent, with the average resident being able to mention at least three off the top of their head. And if there was one which would likely be mentioned by all of them, it had to be the Violet Thorn.

    Which probably meant¡­

    ¡­ Oh no.

    ¡°Some territory dispute, maybe?¡±

    ¡°No way. The nearest area is claimed by Last Empire people. It¡¯s not their way to call the police, nor to leave these guys just restrained for us. They also don¡¯t mess with Thorns.¡±

    Did I just¡­

    ¡°Then could it be¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yeah. Someone wanting to help.¡±

    ¡­ shank some wannabe superhero!?

 I-3: Halcyon Desire

    A cellphone¡¯s timed alarm could be loud and annoying, but that was hardly a concern when the ringing was shut down almost as soon as it began, and Edmond Bach had not wasted even five seconds to do so.

    Should¡¯ve turned it off before...

    Was he a ¡®morning person¡¯? Maybe he was on the better end of things, but the ease with which he defeated his wake-up alarm had much less glamorous reasons.

    After all, his sleep had been anything but deep, and more like a clumsy series of intermittent naps. He had last woken up around forty minutes before the time he intended to get out of bed.

    With a final, futile attempt to get some more rest ending in failure, he had at least saved himself one of the most prevalent morning tragedies.

    I have¡­ three hours or so before the airport stuff. Good enough.

    He was not the kind to dwell on such things, however, especially when the exciting motive of his troubled slumber was so soon. Just thinking of the incoming event was enough to make a boyish grin spread shamelessly on his face.

    But there were still several things to do before then.

    Breakfast, brushing, shower¡­ and of course, training alongside everything else.

    Edmond¡¯s smile disappeared soon, replaced by a resolute expression as he raised his body and turned, sitting at the side of his untidy bed.

    Closing his eyes and breathing one, two¡­ five times in an attempt to relax just enough, he proceeded.

    Conscious intake of prana, the first step of sorcery, was an easy enough process for those that were appropriately initiated. Despite still being an unnatural phenomenon for humans, habitual practice eventually did away with the strangeness and made way for something more intuitive. This was especially the case for a knight, even a cadet with just a few years of experience.

    The accompanying pain was enough to make him tremble briefly, but it was nothing he could not handle. Prana flowed through the inviting filter without hesitation, in and out with a delicate, yet willful pace.

    Until now, everything was normal. It was the next activity that was not even close to what other cadets might do.

    For as soon as he felt the adequate amount of prana within his body, rather than transform it into a proper spell, Edmond locked it down as he began to stand up.

    ¡°¡­ Pssh¡­!¡±

    Pain was hardly enough of a word to describe the burst that suddenly assaulted his senses. Every time, it felt like he would scream out loud if he was not careful. The mere act of standing up, let alone cooking or washing himself, made his body feel like it circulated lightning instead of blood.

    But even under such torment, making his attempts at relaxing through breath like inhaling shrapnel, Edmond did not release the prana within him. He could not do it yet.

    Going through his morning routine in such a state, his body would inevitably build up tremendous levels of stress through the trapped prana, stress that would recover in the presence¡­ no, infection of such prana as well, improving on any progress achieved.

    The core idea was a result anyone familiar with sorcery, capable of letting prana flow through them as they exercise, would be aware of. The mechanism itself was similar enough to normal exercise, even.

    Edmond could not be satisfied with just that, however. As long as there was something more he could do, no matter how difficult or excruciating, he had to do it if it was at all possible.

    No matter how much time passed, the greatest obstacle for someone with the dream he pursued would always remain unknown. Thus, he could not afford to be lax in any of his preparations.

    Like such, another morning of Edmond Bach¡¯s routine; breakfast, brushing, shower and training, passed by in the usual way.

    <hr>

    Seyfelt¡¯s Polaris Airport was not large.

    A hub covered by windows with a unique, oval architecture and a tasteful interior in diverse shades of blue across the floor and walls alike, it certainly suited the tastes of many. However, the city was overall more suited to residence than to tourism, especially in the weeks leading up to the winter months. Not many tourists were likely to spend their winter within an urban jungle.

    As a result, a small airport and the one train station that handled inter-province trips were more than enough to meet needs and leisure.

    ¡°(So you¡¯re skipping work?)¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not skipping. I told the manager and the owner over a week in advance, and I¡¯m still going to be there for my night shift.¡±

    Strolling through the largely desolate and silent airport halls, Edmond spoke on the phone without much else to concern himself with. After the long walk from his apartment to the airport in such a cold weather, holding the device close to his ear and cheek was indeed pleasant. A hoodie, jeans and boots did a good enough job, but not for his exposed face.

    ¡°(Still, it¡¯s weird that you would call in absent. Is it so important that you¡¯re the one to pick her up?)¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yeah. It¡¯s been over four years.¡± Edmond replied with a slightly guilty, but ultimately jovial smile.

    So much had happened since then. Some things better than others, and there was no chance either of them was quite the same as back in the day. The circumstances around this visit were also far from ideal, and it would not have been an exaggeration to say they were on the unfortunate side of things.

    Edmond¡¯s thoughts went through such issues and many more, each as worrying as the last.

    But still, he could not help but be thrilled about this reunion. A feeling conveyed in an almost embarrassingly obvious way to the other end of the communication line.

    ¡°(¡­ Just be sure to not go too crazy today, alright? Remember tomorrow is when activities resume.)¡±

    ¡°No issue. There¡¯s also been some gang stuff happening lately so I have no interest in going out late.¡±

    ¡°(Really, if they want to live in that city, more people your age should be reading on the police reports¡ª[Just let him go already! You¡¯re going to ruin a reunion of years!]¡ªI¡¯m on it! This is important for safety reasons, asshole! Ugh¡­  I¡¯ll get out of your hair, Ed. Just have a nice get-together or something...)¡±

    It was one thing to be able to talk with two of his senior knights on the cellphone, private numbers at that. But to hear them have a spat like an old married couple¡­ it was slightly beyond what Edmond could handle, letting out a quiet chuckle much like a boy laughing in math class.

    ¡°R-Right¡­ I¡¯ll be in contact, Ms. Alyssa.¡±

    He normally would not feel rushed to end such a hilarious conversation, but Alexander¡¯s speech in the background had proper reasons for it. Reasons that were especially relevant now, as Edmond glanced upon the person walking out one of the arrival hallways.

    A girl carrying impractically huge luggage bags in each hand, one slung over her shoulder, yet having a gait that seemed completely alien to the stress of carrying weight. With nothing more than a red cardigan over a plain t-shirt, jeans hugging a lean outline and sneakers; one could probably add ¡®crippling cold¡¯ to the list of worries she ignored.

    Her hair had grown out to the small of her back, but between its wheat-like blonde color, her profound maroon irises and a look as boldly intense as a tiger¡¯s, Edmond felt like he had gone back in time for a solid second, silent even by the moment the girl had arrived before him.

    ¡°Well, hello Stranger. Waiting for someone special?¡±

    It had never been such a struggle to just restrain a smile.

    ¡°Nah, just a friend with some dementia.¡±

    But her reaction to his reply could not be more different, cackling without the slightest bit of shame. It was turning out to be rather convenient that the airport was so barren¡­

    ¡­ No, she would laugh just as loudly even if it were filled to the brim. Hildegard Tirpitz was just that much of an unruly person.

    ¡°Phew¡­ I can say your timing has gotten better than before. Now, could you¡­?¡±

    Still letting out a few snickers, Hilda extended a hand. The one carrying one of her bags normally, rather than over her shoulder.

    ¡°Do you need to ask?¡±

    From the moment she began raising her arm, Edmond had already approached to pick it up¡­ before tumbling from the ungodly weight assaulting his arm, shoulder and more.

    Is she carrying a shrunk griffin or something!?

    His worries were misplaced and far too late, though.

    Before he could look back up or even get used to the luggage¡¯s weight, Hilda had already pulled Edmond¡¯s hood over his head, then all the way down to his chest.

    ¡°Your timing¡¯s gotten better, but you¡¯re still as gullible as ever, Mondi!¡±

    Are we really doing this now!?

    The weird, embarrassing nickname by which only the members of one household called him caused him to briefly forget his predicament.

    Childish harassment as it was, the efficacy of it was nothing to scoff at. Hood held in an iron grip past his chin, Edmond could do little else but flail around like a wind-up toy.

    Despite that, he was far from defenseless. And ready to prove it too.

    Through mixing spatial awareness with an intense, if somewhat petty desire for retribution, he needed just a few seconds to aim his hand in the right direction.

    That was, toward Hilda¡¯s lower behind, before ruthlessly pulling upward and subjecting her to a gruesome wedgie.

    ¡°¡­ Blahk!¡±

    The girl¡¯s squeak, like that of a cat with its tail suddenly being stepped on, was beyond miserable.

    ¡°I got the first move! Accept you got creamed!¡±

    ¡°Excuses! You just know I got you worse!¡±

    If he were to think things more calmly, Edmond would have been very thankful that there were no passersby to witness such a display of sheer immaturity.

    He did not have the time for that, however, as after just a few seconds of this strange tug of war, worsened by the heavy luggage they both carried, neither of the two¡­ ¡®combatants¡¯ could maintain their balance anymore.

    ¡°Watch o¡­!¡±

    ¡°Shit¡­!¡±

    A spectacular fall from the young man and woman, not lacking in painful entanglement and hard bumps on the stone-cold airport floor. Her luggage falling in a similar manner, the dry sound produced by it was somehow quicker and also much more concerning. Worrying enough to decisively silence Edmond and Hilda for one, two¡­

    ¡°P-Pffftt¡­!¡±

    ¡­ three seconds, before they finally could not resist the trembling surge from deep within and childish laughter came out without any modesty.

    Worries, anxiety¡­ every matter of concern. They had all been blown away like mere embers before anyone noticed, leaving only a brilliant flame of wonderful memories in their place.

    <hr>

    After a rather unorthodox reunion at the airport, the chilling outside breeze felt nearly therapeutical. Standing on the sidewalk a couple dozen meters from the airport¡¯s entrance, the wait seemed to be bearable for all of ten seconds.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t call the taxi ahead of time? What kind of airport greeting is this? Especially when it¡¯s this cold!¡± Hilda¡¯s complaints seemed almost tailor-made to annoy Edmond.

    ¡°I told you it was super cold already and you still came dressed like that.¡±  Edmond¡¯s voice turned to an annoyed grumble as he put his cellphone back into his pocket. ¡°Also, are you even aware of how heavy those bags are? I swear those would stop most cars from moving, so I probably saved myself a bunch of money by waiting till now.¡±

    And the girl¡¯s narrowed eyes, coupled with a knowing smirk, did little to alleviate said annoyance.

    ¡°Resolved to pay that off yourself? Now that¡¯s clean.¡±

    ¡°And it would mean eggplant gratin for your first two lunches in town~.¡±

    Thankfully, such behavior also meant his bite-back was still on point, causing Hilda¡¯s expression to sour very quickly after hearing the bitter vegetable¡¯s mention.

    ¡°Dick. But more importantly, are you going to keep acting like everything¡¯s peachy or will you tell me about this hair disaster already?¡± She asked while roughly pulling on Edmond¡¯s locks for about a second, perhaps as much in retaliation as out of curiosity.

    Retaining about the same texture and fullness expected of someone his age, it was their color that had significantly grayed out, akin to a much older person¡¯s instead.

    Non-standard hair colors were not impossible or even that rare depending on the area of the world one lived in, or the diverse phenomena one could experience, but Edmond knew Hilda was not asking about the color itself.

    It was the change from what she remembered that was the concern.

    ¡°Mm. Filtering accident, about a year ago.¡±

    ¡°Really? Just what did you mess up so badly?¡±

    Hilda¡¯s surprise was understandable.

    The core principle of sorcery was filtering prana through one¡¯s body. Taking in that foreign power source and transforming it into whatever tool the sorcerer needed. After enough learning and practice, many people could perform it about as easily as any other artist or athlete would their respective craft.

    Nonetheless, adequate training decreasing the chances for mistakes did not erase the damage caused when they did happen. And when manipulating such a volatile resource, that damage could range from mild to truly severe.

    Edmond sighed, then followed on.

    ¡°It¡¯s whatever. What with most unpowereds thinking regulators are meant to cast spells, I can use a wake-up call to remind myself of how things truly are. I even got off pretty light, I¡¯d say.¡±

    ¡°True that. I¡¯ve heard of people who lost whole senses due to filtering accidents, or their skin turned transparent. I even read about a guy who after ten whole years with no issues had multi-organ failu¡ª¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay, I get it! Shut up!¡±

    Hilda¡¯s hyena-like cackling could still be heard clearly, even past Edmond¡¯s hands covering his ears. An ineffective shield she still wasted no time in trying to tear down.

    ¡°Aww, come on! I have like five more stories~.¡±

    ¡°Like I give a shit! Seriously, don¡¯t you have anything else to talk about?¡±

    ¡°Eeh¡­ hmm, I guess there¡¯s something I could ask. It¡¯s not just me who¡¯s new in town, but my teammates too.¡±

    While still trembling slightly from the increasingly disturbing stories, Edmond showed a level of surprise so obvious as to be slightly embarrassing.

    ¡°Teammates as a cadet? Aren¡¯t you just a third-year?¡±

    ¡°Yup. One of them is kind of an asshole and another one is the asshole¡¯s shut-in bff, but the four of us do pretty well together, so it tends to work out. Anyways, they only got here a few days ago, so would it be fine if they tag along when you show me around proper?¡±

    Her request was surprisingly normal and polite.

    So much so as to be ¡®un-Hildae-like¡¯, for more than a few reasons.

    This girl of all people, asking politely if I can help others out?

    His next words came out before he could even think of holding back.

    ¡°How much do you owe?¡±

    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s actually too mean.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a joke! Sorry, sorry, I really am. It¡¯s just¡­ you know. You never were the type to go out of your way for something like that, get it? Remember when you brought over that big snake even though Nora and Christoph were also at the party?¡±

    Hilda frowned immediately, almost sulking. She even glanced slightly away as she pouted, which Edmond could not deny gave him a unique feeling of satisfaction.

    ¡°It was wounded. Those wusses should have been more understanding if anything.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ agree on principle, but still blaming the one who threw up and the one who blacked out is not cool.¡±

    Edmond could hardly be more thankful for the gradually arriving taxi, almost feeling Hilda¡¯s fiery rebuttal before she even opened her mouth.

    ¡°And that¡¯s our ride!¡±

    ¡°You rodent¡­ but wait, Mondi.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± He turned back to her, right before opening the minivan¡¯s door.

    Hilda¡¯s visage was so serious, so stern and grim, that Edmond was nearly overcome by an unnatural need to gulp.

    ¡°Just in case, about the whole Exelica Front Seat incid¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare finish those words.¡±

    Considering the topic, such an expression from her was nothing if not warranted. No one who did not already know about it should ever become aware of that event.

    As he entered the taxi¡¯s back seat right after Hilda, Edmond was convinced his thoughts were not very different from hers.

    Upon remembering it once more, what had once been so hilarious would probably result in a week¡¯s worth of embarrassed screaming into his pillow at night.

    Not that Mr. Nielsen did not deserve every bit of that tragedy, though.

    <hr>

    While Seyfelt¡¯s residential district as a whole was distinguished by its eponymous function, the citizens¡¯ different preferences resulted in considerable variety if one were to compare its specific areas.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Out of the places this was most noticeable in, one was the northeastern quadrant, which was closer to the education and business districts. Another would be the southwestern area, nearer in proximity to the Knight training facility and the entertainment district.

    Accustomed to his apartment and other similar buildings in the latter, often occupied by people who either worked or slept with little else in-between, Edmond¡¯s visits to the former were quite pleasant. He could even go as far as to say he looked forward to them all.

    Numerous houses, scattered enough distance that one could not say they were lined up. Healthy gardens, including ones that extended beyond what was perhaps necessary. Not that he minded when seeing how many small critters enjoyed them.

    Depending on the season, there would be more children and old-timers around, but the few that were currently visible looked more than lively enough to complete the slideshow with a flourish.

    The next house, however, stood out to him in particular.

    ¡°Is this the one?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Thank you, sir.¡± Edmond had already undone his seatbelt, followed promptly by Hilda, before the taxi driver had finished asking.

    The application used for the pickup charged him automatically, so there was little else to account for post-arrival. Soon after Edmond and Hilda got out with her back-breaking luggage, the driver nodded with quite a friendly smile before setting off.

    The girl was now looking around so intently one could say she was scanning the place. Her focus was mainly on the broad two-stories house, tinged with bluish and dark gray, but the surroundings took some of her attention as well.

    ¡°Nice area. Looks chill and there¡¯s lots of green. But the house¡­ did Ingrid really get something of this size for its full price? Looks like¡­ Hey.¡±

    She did not look pleased after noticing her host fiddling with his phone so soon.

    ¡°Just one sec. I¡¯m tipping.¡±

    Not even turning to reply was certainly a mistake, being alerted to such by the pincer-like pull on his earlobe.

    ¡°Ow! Psycho!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m exhausted from the flight! You can do that after we come in, geez¡­ Wait, you¡¯re tipping him six notes?¡±

    Hilda¡¯s surprise upon catching a glimpse of Edmond¡¯s phone screen promptly erased almost any trace of her previous anger.

    ¡°Yeah, what about it?¡± He himself could not forget the heat and sting on his ear so readily, however.

    ¡°That¡¯s crazy. I¡¯m sure the trip here wasn¡¯t even thirty.¡±

    ¡°Taxi-driving is a tedious job and he didn¡¯t force the small talk. I can afford it so why shouldn¡¯t I pay that?¡±

    Hilda was silent for around two seconds, before finally sighing.

    ¡°Whatever. Can we go in now?¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure. Just remember: surprise, okay?¡±

    Saying so, Edmond could not stop his lips from curling into a big grin by themselves, as they walked up the steps to the door. Hilda¡¯s reaction was similar, with a hint of mischief to add to the excitement.

    ¡°Got it.¡±

    Briefly bringing up a finger in a gesture of silence, his other hand finally turned the key on the door. Cleaning their shoes on the doormat and removing them before stepping onto the black carpeted floor, they made their way in with utmost care.

    The dining table was right across from the entrance, and Hilda did not even ask Edmond before walking over and taking a seat. He was already heading right for the stairs.

    There were three rooms across the somewhat narrow corridor of the second floor. The one right by the left of the stairs¡¯ end was as well organized as Edmond expected, but with its occupant currently absent.

    No issue, as he was only looking for those in the two rooms closer to each other, some distance down the right from the stairs. Walking onward, he knocked on the first door.

    ¡°Isolde?¡±

    ¡°Taking care of something.¡± The voice of a young girl answered loud enough to hear, but clearly absent-mindedly, from inside the room.

    It being her, he could never know for sure, but she seemed completely unaware of who was waiting down on the first floor. Perfect.

    ¡°Come on, there¡¯s something really cool I want to show you~.¡±

    ¡°Mondi?¡±

    A new voice quickly drew Edmond¡¯s attention away. Turning to the side, he saw a very young boy, seven years old and maybe as tall as his navel. Short black hair stood charmingly on end at certain spots from a pillow¡¯s action, quickly figured out from the dark blue pajama shirt and pants he still wore.

    His honey-like brown eyes looked up at Edmond with a curiosity and energy that did not really fit with his current appearance, however.

    ¡°Hey Max. Want to see something really cool downstairs~?¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Maximillian asked while leaning forward, his eyes almost starry despite his quiet voice.

    Edmond could not imagine ever getting tired of his younger brother¡¯s small but genuine gestures.

    ¡°I said ¡®see¡¯, so I can¡¯t tell! Just come with me~.¡±

    ¡°Fine¡­¡±

    Without any real tantrum, the boy followed after Edmond as he walked back and down the stairs. As for Isolde¡­ she would probably come down by herself before long.

    After, this was a big occasion.

    ¡°Look!¡± Said Edmond as he gently pulled his brother down the last few steps.

    Face to face with the sitting, widely grinning Hilda, Max seemed to space out for the first few seconds, after which his utter confusion and shock made way to a shameless smile almost embarrassingly akin to Edmond¡¯s. The boy¡¯s run to her side almost looked like a single, big hop of excitement.

    ¡°Hilda? Hilda!¡±

    ¡°Mondi, I was expecting Max to greet me! Who¡¯s this tall badass and what did he do with him~?¡± Catching him in a tight hug, Hilda held the boy and ran her hand through his hair in a way that while rough, Max did not seem to mind in the slightest. Seeing the two of them, anything but utter joy was impossible to notice.

    All the while this happened, Edmond heard the expected noise of a door bursting open, and someone rushing past the hallway and downstairs, seemingly almost tripping over in the process.

    ¡°Hilda? Really!?¡±

    The question came from a girl of fourteen years, dressed in a half-zipped magenta hoodie, a lilac t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Her long black hair braided at the side had the same luster as Max¡¯s, while the cloudiness in her gray eyes was just like Edmond¡¯s. Eyes that soon began to moisten from the sight.

    ¡°What are you waiting for? Three years are a lot, you know~?¡± Even Hilda herself did not hold back in that regard.

    ¡°Aaahh, damn it!¡±

    Regardless of the embarrassment she would feel at such a display in any other circumstance, Isolde rushed into her embrace. Before anyone could really notice, a few tears actually fell, both theirs and those of a still smiling Edmond.

    ¡°When did you even get here? We weren¡¯t told anything!¡±

    ¡°Just today, and you think I¡¯d miss this~? It was risky enough having to tell the stooge over there!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a stooge now, but tomorrow you¡¯ll call me a superhero when I tell you about the best clubs and restaurants~!¡±

    Conversation streamed from all sides relentlessly, like heavy floodgates opened only when they could handle no more. Isolde had either forgotten or completely neglected whatever she was previously busy with, as she did not hesitate to take a seat at the dining table after mostly calming down. Edmond followed suit right next to her, while Max remained right by Hilda¡¯s side.

    The rascal had even brought his chair close enough that its legs touched those of Hilda¡¯s. There was no way Edmond or Isolde would even try to get him away from there.

    ¡°I wanna make lunch today!¡± The boy exclaimed, hands on the table with such vigor one might think he was trying to stand onto it.

    ¡°Oh? Am I hearing this right?¡± Leaning back, linked hands behind her head, Hilda inquired in amusement.

    ¡°Yep! I¡¯ve learned plenty! Like burgers, and fried chicken and tacos. Also fried noodles, and omelette¡­¡±

    Hearing Max list off such food items, Hilda chuckled as she glanced at an awkward-looking Edmond. He definitely had to improve the variety of Max¡¯s culinary interests.

    ¡°Killer menu for sure. But if Max has grown up so much, what about you, Isolde? Tell me¡­ how¡¯re the crushes?¡±

    ¡°Hilda!¡±

    Edmond knew this topic would inevitably come up, but for all his concern on the matter, even he had briefly forgotten about it. But despite his panicked reaction, when it came to Isolde herself¡­

    ¡°¡­ Currently on the third.¡± She answered matter-of-factly, taking a sip from the water-filled thermos she had brought over to hide her unease.

    ¡°Third date?¡±

    ¡°Third boyfriend.¡±

    Hilda came visibly close to slipping from her balanced lean on the chair after Max¡¯s innocently direct addition.

    ¡°Seriously!? Girl, you mean to say you¡¯re already a serial killer while Mondi is still a lifelong single!?¡±

    ¡°What makes you just assume that¡¯s the case?¡± The annoyance in Edmond¡¯s tone was only matched by that in the glare he aimed at the blonde.

    ¡°And what makes you argue back when she¡¯s not even wrong?¡±

    But Isolde¡¯s words killed so much of the strength in that glare so quickly that Hilda began cackling out loud.

    ¡°Coooold! Anyways, if Maxxie wants to cook and stuff, shouldn¡¯t we just make enough for everyone? When¡¯s Ingrid coming home?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s at work. Didn¡¯t Edmond tell you¡­?¡±

    Realization hit Isolde in a rather quick, if still gradual way as she spoke, ending up in a very telling look sent her brother¡¯s way.

    One of disappointment, annoyance, indignation and many more feelings along that wavelength. But most of all, an almost tangible sense of frustration was conveyed.

    The youth himself was not surprised by this reaction, and unlike before, this was something he could easily anticipate. And yet his emotions on the matter, more than at any other time this day, formed a heavy mass around the base of his throat, reverberating down and up his whole body in steady, cumbersome pulses.

    Max looked between then in concern, unexpectedly faced with the sudden end of the previously jovial conversation, and Hilda herself had lost the smile that had remained on her face for perhaps over ten minutes. Saying nothing, her look was more forceful in demanding answers from Edmond than any words may have been.

    ¡°¡­ I need to get some stuff ready for work today. It¡¯s better if I take care of that soon, and you guys will have time to catch up and get everything ready. So¡­¡± With the harsh feeling in his throat growing stronger by the second, it was very difficult to restrain a rough tone. ¡°¡­ I¡¯ll call Mom and tell her to not go out for dinner or anything, then you all can have a special thing together.¡±

    Edmond had already stood up before he stopped talking, and when he was actually finished, he was well on his way out, putting on his shoes and opening the door as he exited with a hasty pace.

    He was hardly two steps out of the house when he was stopped by a tight grip on his arm.

    ¡°Mondi, what¡¯s with this? It¡¯s been four years for you, and you still can¡¯t bring yourself to make things right with your mom?¡± Hilda¡¯s voice was half disbelief, half disappointment. The carefree and upbeat disposition so usual to her was now unnoticeable.

    Edmond turned around violently, shaking off her grasp. He could see through the open door, the dining table where Isolde seemed to be giving whatever explanation she could to calm Max down. He quickly turned his eyes back on Hilda.

    ¡°Mind telling me when this became any of your business?¡±

    ¡°Miss me with that clich¨¦ shit. I care for both of you and we lived together for years, so this is all very much my business! Damn it¡­ is this why you kept sliming around to avoid talking of Ingrid while we planned everything?¡±

    The intensity with which Hilda spoke could have made many people retreat as she took a step forward. Edmond, however, conceded no ground, with a scowl to perfectly match hers.

    ¡°And yet you¡¯re shameless enough to play dumb? You know better than anyone what the problem is.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re such an ass. Sure, you joined the corps on your own, and I can guess she doesn¡¯t like that even now. But that¡¯s no fucking excuse for refusing to so much as face her today of all days, when we can all get together for the first time in so long!¡±

    Disbelief replaced by anger in increasing proportion, Hilda¡¯s voice somehow felt much louder than it actually was.

    ¡°You said it, I know this issue better than anyone else. But did I hide from the conflict? No! I kept in touch, I reassured her, I tried to make things right for months, years until she could at least accept my decision. Until we could support each other and enjoy time together like before¡ª¡±

    ¡°Get off my case already! Ever thought how easy it is for you to say all this when you¡¯re not her fucking son!?¡±

    Edmond regretted yelling in such a way almost instantly. Panicking, he looked back at the dining table some distance away, relieved like hardly ever before when not seeing Max, or Isolde for that matter. Though thinking about it more, she had likely taken the boy upstairs just in case something like his outburst happened.

    ¡°You really think that¡¯s a point against me here, Edmond?¡±

    With no concern for his worries, however, Hilda¡¯s tone was merciless. Coupled with his recent fright, her words hit him twice as deep.

    Edmond kept a severe frown up, scrambling for something to say. The idea of yielding any ground on this topic was repulsive to him, but it was increasingly apparent that he would find no satisfactory answer even with a whole hour to think of one.

    Half-opening his mouth one more time, he quickly closed it before turning around again. Hilda did not stop him this time.

    ¡°As I said, I¡¯ll give her a call and tell her to be ready for dinner at home. You guys go nuts since she deserves a break.¡±

    He received no response other than the door closing firmly, and perhaps a little too hard.

    Edmond sighed, trying his best to get rid of the phantom-like lump in his throat, to no avail. He wasted no more time before resuming his walk, not that there was much else he could do. Phone in hand, he hardly had to navigate contacts to find the one he wanted. It was one of the top five, after all.

    A finger tapped on it, then hovered over the ¡®call¡¯ icon. For several seconds, the icon went untouched.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    She¡¯s not on break right now, I¡¯m pretty sure. Calling her is no good when she¡¯s busy...

    Thinking such, Edmond tapped the neighboring icon for messaging instead. His finger felt around for perhaps a minute before he sent the text, placing the phone back in his pocket as if he could not bear to look at it any longer.

    [Amazing surprise for you at home. Don¡¯t ask Isolde or Max, just be sure to be hungry for dinner, it will surely be great. Love you.]

    <hr>

    It was a walk of just over ten minutes to get to the nearest bus stop. The subway was closer, but for the relatively small distance he needed to travel, taking it seemed like inconvenience for its own sake.

    After a twenty-minute ride on a bus that was perhaps two-thirds full and seven minutes or so more of walking, Edmond¡¯s destination finally came into view. A largely maroon and light gray apartment building on the smaller end of things, but with a reasonable five stories and enough breadth on each to host four apartments.

    Most importantly, the rent was pretty good, and the people were okay. It had already been a little over a year since he moved in, and Edmond could not think of any real complaints.

    Card key on the outer gate and entering through the building¡¯s tempered glass door, Edmond made sure to spare a look at the dark brown-skinned, full-haired woman that prepared to exit the building, almost as if to contrast him.

    ¡°Hey Andrea.¡±

    ¡°Edmond.¡±

    The landlady in her mid-thirties, as usual, showed no openings, dressed stunningly in a blood-red blouse under a black trench coat, similarly colored slacks, and high heels. But her kind tone, impressive in its sheer consistency, made any intimidation Edmond felt around her during his first month as a tenant feel more ridiculous each time he remembered.

    Walking past after greeting her, Andrea¡¯s voice drew his attention again.

    ¡°Please do pay Claude a visit. He seemed quite upset when I saw him a while ago, but I have something urgent to attend to. And considering last time¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ Right. I¡¯ll go check on him.¡±  Edmond definitely shared that particular worry of hers. Maybe on an even deeper level.

    Andrea smiled in that secure and contagious manner so unique to her as she continued to make her way out.

    ¡°You¡¯re sweet. I¡¯ll be seeing you later.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d be great.¡±

    For all that mattered, such a brief exchange took Edmond¡¯s mind somewhat off things. Partly from the landlady¡¯s genuine friendliness, but mostly from concern about what Claude had gotten himself into. He walked past the elevator, and instead used the stairs.

    His apartment was on the third floor, so this was standard for him. More than that, Claude lived on the same floor, so there was no need to use the elevator when looking for him, at least at first. The plan was to look for any ¡®tracks¡¯ on each floor he visited, up to the fifth. For the kind of person Claude Baudelaire was, he tended to leave a unique trail of mayhem once he became enraged.

    But nothing of the sort was ultimately needed. Right after arriving at the second floor, Edmond crossed paths with the man in question.

    Light brown hair reaching just short of his earlobes in soft curls, eyes with an amber color that was almost golden and a smoothly shaped face of pleasant features. At least six out of each ten people would readily acknowledge his good looks, but those who would call him ¡®handsome¡¯ would hardly approach that number.

    While clearly a guy, he was undeniably pretty, dressed for the part with a thin, long-sleeved t-shirt in a black-to-blue gradient, slim-fit dark jeans and gray slip-on shoes. Being around half a head shorter than Edmond only compounded his delicate aspect further.

    The image was made somewhat awkward by the small plastic bags held in his hands, filled to varying amounts not exceeding a quarter with a dark red, almost ominously wine-colored powder.

    ¡°What is¡­?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re back early. I thought you¡¯d at least have lunch with your friend, so what happened?¡± Claude asked in an effortless tenor as he walked past Edmond, not rushing or slowing down on his way to the rising stairs.

    ¡°I asked first. I¡¯ll answer after you tell me what¡¯s the deal with that powder.¡± More than used to such aloofness, Edmond followed him without delay.

    Claude let out a minuscule sigh of annoyance while swinging the bags lightly.

    ¡°Jindao Reaper extract.¡±

    That name was not good.

    Far from the culinary community alone, even the most reckless of spice junkies had nothing but respect for any pepper named ¡®Reaper¡¯. This was not just out of convention either, as there were respected and wealthy associations fiercely mandating strict standards for any pepper to gain the title.

    Among these, the ¡®Reaper¡¯ pepper from the Jindao Empire still held many characteristics that made it special. Purposefully bred to be the best match for Eastern ¡®numb-spice¡¯ dishes, the consequences of eating just a piece of the pepper were such that special certification was required for any commercial distribution, be it of the ingredient alone or of dishes containing it.

    And Claude currently held around a hundred grams worth of dehydrated extract.

    ¡°May I also ask why you were walking out of¡­ er, I assume Victor¡¯s room, carrying a bunch of Reaper?¡±

    Edmond¡¯s question went unanswered, instead met by a cellphone placed on his hand. The picture of a party flyer for next weekend at the building was present on the screen, with a high-quality background of a starry night and a few boxes of text with accompanying pictures displayed across it.  Out of the four sections, three were the usual talk about the drinks and meaningful entertainment, but on the one at the lower right was something much cruder.

    [Come check our very own half-imp! One of a kind in the whole world!]

    The picture of Claude surrounded by several of the more mature-looking young men in the apartment building, sitting on a particularly large couch as they played some videogame and shared snacks, was too sad with that title.

    ¡°Holy shit.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s Victor¡¯s third strike. That booze he got two days ago, as well as the proteins in his fridge? They might as well be disguised magma now.¡± Claude said ruthlessly as he took his phone back. ¡°Are you going to replace them before he gets here or something?¡±

    Seeing Claude turn to him for the first time, Edmond shook his head as his lips unconsciously curled into a boyish grin. He was concerned about the method needed for Claude to discreetly put the Reaper powder inside sealed packaging, but other than that, he did not quite disapprove of such a reaction.

    Edmond himself probably would not take such measures, but Claude knew better than to neglect his research and use any amount that was legitimately threatening, and besides¡­ Victor did play with known fire.

    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s just natural selection if he still does something like this after what happened with Colin¡¯s third strike. You¡¯d think more height talk would be a no-go, let alone something like that flyer, but I guess they¡¯re a tad dense.¡±

    ¡°If organite is a nine on the density scale, these guys might warrant a revision of it. I doubt they¡¯ll wise up, but I¡¯m good with testing methods six through ten. Even more if needed.¡± Satisfied, Claude showed a small smile more threatening than any glare.

    Everyone in the building knew by now what the big red button was, so if they got to the third strike, Edmond could only feel pity for whichever victim was in turn.

    ¡°Be sure to stay up until three in the morning at least, though. And listen carefully.¡±

    ¡°Hm? How come?¡±

    With Claude¡¯s curious tone, Edmond almost felt bad for the more than likely result he imagined for Viktor.

    Almost.

    ¡°The only thing worse than a Reaper going in, is a Reaper going out.¡±

    Laughter exploded as the two young men arrived at the third floor, almost causing them to trip right back down the stairs. Not that they were in any position to mind.

    ¡°Haah¡­ that¡¯s a good one. Still, why are you here so early?¡± Asked Claude while searching in a pocket for his apartment keys.

    Edmond pondered over how to answer briefly, but a long delay would likely just make everything more suspicious.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to hang out with Hilda a bunch in the following weeks, showing her around and such, so I¡¯d rather she catches up and has fun with Mom, Isolde and Max now. There¡¯s also some stuff I need to prepare for work.¡±

    Even to Edmond himself, this sounded like awkward rationalization. After the enjoyable respite, being thrust onto the topic again felt like an ice-cold downpour.

    ¡°Mm, I get it. With such a young brother especially, it¡¯s probably easy to make him feel left out or jealous.¡± Fortunately, Claude did not press any further on that particular subject. ¡°But about work, which one are we talking about?¡±

    The following question, though, did away with most of Edmond¡¯s gratitude. The taller youth¡¯s face darkened with a scowl.

    ¡°Again, we shouldn¡¯t talk about that out in the open.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one making it sketchy. You could reply normally and all of the zero people overhearing would think it¡¯s some part-time gig.¡±

    Claude always had a response to everything. Some were forced, but most of the time they were solid. Edmond knew better than most that pushing this was pointless.

    Instead he sighed, bringing both hands into his hoodie pockets.

    ¡°It¡¯s for the earlier one. Though there¡¯s solid plans for the other.¡±

    ¡°You mean notes? I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s smart to follow them just like that, especially with the reports of Unmasked being more active recently.¡± Despite being at the door already, Claude was yet to even put his keys to the lock.

    Edmond¡¯s eyes narrowed as he leaned on the wall, right shoulder pressed and feet crossed.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been on that for the last two weeks, and I¡¯ve yet to see even one. Of course there¡¯s risk, but I know when to pull back. You know I¡¯ve gotten out of my share of trouble.¡±

    ¡°You getting into it in the first place is exactly why I¡¯m saying all this. Honestly, at least for a few weeks until things calm down, if you¡¯d let me tag along¡ª¡±

    Claude was far from finished talking, but Edmond¡¯s strong step made him stop. No real attempts at intimidation were made, but the serious look in his friend¡¯s eyes was too genuine to be disregarded.

    ¡°How many times have I said that defeats the purpose?¡±

    ¡°This ¡®purpose¡¯ isn¡¯t worth your life.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate your concern. I really, really do. But if I¡¯m willingly endangering someone else, then why am I even doing this at all?¡±

    Claude frowned at Edmond¡¯s words, his sharp amber eyes tinged with frustration. His lips pressed in no less annoyance, he seemed about to burst into some stern tirade at any moment.

    Instead, he simply turned to place his keys on the lock, opening the door to his apartment.

    ¡°Fair enough. Do as you please, just be wary of when there¡¯s more than you can handle.¡±

    Edmond relaxed, smiling as if it were only natural.

    ¡°I will. And really, thank you again.¡±

    ¡°Sure...¡±

    With that word and one last glance, Claude closed the door, leaving Edmond to walk away to his own place in pleasant silence.

    For lunch¡­ quiche? Or not. I still have time. A big cottage pie with some greens on the side is probably the best. Will last me a few days too.

    Plans taking proper shape in his mind, Edmond entered his apartment, closed the door behind him, and began to boil water in a pot as he took the necessary ingredients out.

    Hands washed, he seasoned and mixed ground meat and mushrooms, chopped clean potatoes, onions and broccoli, and salted the boiling water generously. Putting the potatoes in the water, he also oiled a large skillet and placed it atop another stove on high heat.

    Do I even have a proper cheese for the gratin? I hadn¡¯t thought of that.

    Idle thoughts manifesting, he took out the next best shredded cheese option from the fridge, along with some butter. Almost causing the cheesecake for the employee party to fall with a distracted hand bump, Edmond could not hold back a less-than-masculine scream.

    Four hours of work yesterday, almost gone in one second!

    He gulped, feeling a chill run down his entire body. But the tragedy had been avoided, so after placing everything down to not obstruct, he could proceed with cooking the meat, mushrooms and onions on the skillet. The baking tray had already been taken out by the time the mixture was done, poured in evenly with utmost care.

    It was only after this that the potatoes were done. Pureed with the aid of butter and cream, the mash was spread over the meat mixture in a similar manner, topped with a hefty amount of cheese before going into the long since preheated oven.

    Edmond washed his hands once more, then wiped some sweat from his brow with his forearm.

    Broccoli on the skillet with some salt, pepper, garlic and the rest of the butter¡­ won¡¯t take too long. I can take care of that when the pie is almost ready.

    There was not much to do until the gratin turned a nice golden-brown. That is, nothing related to the actual cooking. As far as Edmond¡¯s total responsibilities were concerned, he could use the time to double-check something.

    Giving the kitchen clock an attentive glance to not end up with a tragically dry or even burnt pie, Edmond walked from the kitchen to his bedroom, not far away.

    Holding his bed at both corners, he moved it slowly and carefully out of the way, with the least noise possible. The ventilation chute, previously half covered by the lower part of the foot end of the bed, became exposed. One for which, rather uniquely, only four regular screws had to be removed in order to access something within.

    Edmond pulled out a long garment bag, crumpled at various ends to properly fit in. Being made of cloth, however, this was no issue for its entrance or its exit.

    Once unzipped, he glanced upon the black cloth and irregularly shaped, cracked plates of dark gray organite. Pushing the suit aside, he instead took out a small notebook with several smaller pieces of paper taped to different pages, sticking out like patchwork.

    Yet again, Edmond opened the particular page he had looked at every day for the last four days, ever since finding the note on one of the three gangbangers he had encountered during that night¡¯s patrol.

    Nothing had changed, and the date had finally arrived.

    The location for the meet was the ¡®Epsilon Five¡¯ pub in the entertainment district¡¯s southeast.

 I-4: Deathstalker

    ¡°Good evening...?¡± Said Edmond as he let the back entrance close behind him, slowing it down with his foot to prevent a noisy spectacle. Dressed differently, he now wore a unique black shirt and dark slacks.

    ¡°Why are you asking¡­ Oh, is that what I think it is~?¡±

    ¡°Back off, dude! Edmond made it, so he decides who gets the first slice! ¡­ So, do I get it now? Look how respectful I am!¡±

    The quarreling duo consisted of a tall young man with a scar on his lip and sandy blonde hair, and a young woman with black hair in a high, loose bun and an ear with three piercings, both in their early twenties.

    Cole Aker and Samantha Cain. Two of Edmond¡¯s coworkers at the bistro known as Le Petit Concert.

    ¡°You¡¯re actual vultures, I swear. Can¡¯t you at least wait till I get my stuff in a locker?¡±

    Edmond grumbled as he walked past them to the employee storage area. He could not leave the plastic bag with carefully packaged cheesecake on its own, even if he had to carry it with him all the way.

    Naturally, he was followed.

    ¡°Come on, Ed. It¡¯s freshly made cheesecake!¡±

    ¡°I made it last night!¡±

    ¡°Compared to what we can normally get, that¡¯s as fresh as it gets.¡±

    Somehow, the teamwork of these two was even worse than their bickering, at least for now. Then again, Edmond acknowledged their point as he opened his assigned locker and placed his two backpacks inside. Most fans of cheesecake still would not bother with four hours of delicate work, and he knew very well just how disappointing a store-bought one could be.

    ¡°Where¡¯s everyone else?¡± Securing the lock, he tried to change the topic.

    ¡°Noelle¡¯s outside, talking to Mr. Theron. Luke and Rosa are getting tables ready for the night opening in a bit.¡± Said Samantha.

    ¡°Amanda got here like ten minutes ago, but Naomi¡¯s not coming today. Caught something bad.¡± And Cole added.

    ¡­ Well, that¡¯s pretty sad.

    Edmond was certainly disappointed, but that was it. He expected all the veterans to be together for the occasion today, but it was not the first time things did not go according to plan. More than that, there was no way he could complain if she was absent due to illness.

    Not that he had much time for that, one way or the other.

    ¡°I heard there¡¯s cheesecake! Gimme a slice to make it through the shift!¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe how much nonsense we had to deal with in the afternoon!¡±

    ¡°In time for the main event, eh~?¡±

    The aforementioned coworkers began to flood the lounge one after the other.

    ¡°We¡¯re just minutes away from opening for the night¡­¡± Even the red-haired manager, Noelle Theron, had come along with them. The mood she showed was very different, though.

    Edmond¡¯s look was one of utter defeat as he took out the package from the bag. He did desperately want to take a bite from his carefully made confection, and while he himself preferred to wait for the actual celebration after the shift was over¡­

    ¡°It¡¯ll be good for everyone¡¯s mood if we at least eat some for a start, right?¡±

    ¡­ He had no right to force those preferences onto others. The cries of exaltation that came after were strident enough to nearly make him regret his words, though.

    ¡°I get a slice with three raspberries, not one or two!¡±

    It was not unexpected for Noelle to finally show her true colors, rather shamelessly at that. Not that it was any less amusing for it, Edmond¡¯s laughter streaming from the start as if skipping all buildup.

    ¡°T-Two it will be, then¡­ hah¡­¡± The server on his hand trembled, heavy care needed so that the slices would be even and to prevent the crust from crumbling too much.

    That sound, almost an auditory massage, probably beat any spa trip when it came to these workers.

    ¡°Come to mama¡­¡±

    ¡°Edmond might be switching to part-time, but the full days he spent with us will not go to waste!¡±

    ¡°Five months down our bellies with this, huh?¡±

    More than one person may have felt concerned about Le Petit Concert¡¯s employees.

    The cheesecake was large, but not so much that pieces for six people and those reserved for a few more would not come just short of decimating it. Further considering those who had talked their way into second slices, it was only a matter of minutes before an amount equivalent to either one largeish or two small slices was left.

    ¡°This is mine, okay?! Seriously!¡±

    Edmond could not deny the persistent fear of someone suddenly snatching it even as he held the now closed package overhead. Cole, enjoying the final edge of crust somewhat covered in cream cheese mixture, spoke without regard.

    ¡°Ed, let¡¯s get married.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re four months into a relationship!¡± Interrupted every step of his way to the lounge refrigerator, the previously laughing Edmond was nearing the end of his patience.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter! I can¡¯t live without more of this creamy heaven!¡±

    But Cole showed no sign of stopping, at least not until he found himself bent back by his hair, pulled painfully by Samantha.

    ¡°Shame on you, for real. Edmond would never take a guy who so easily drops several months of commitment¡­ especially not when he¡¯s marrying me here, isn¡¯t that right? Cooking that cheesecake for me every week¡­¡±

    ¡­ He would have said he was a fool for trusting her to stop while she was ahead. But in all honesty, he never thought she would. Finally placing his remaining cheesecake in the fridge, he heard Noelle¡¯s loud, yet not unpleasant voice.

    ¡°Alright, we¡¯re three minutes past the actual night opening time and we¡¯re out of cheesecake, so get going to your posts, everyone!¡±

    Of course she had to add us being out of cheesecake there. She could have easily waited a full fifteen minutes or more so long as we still had some, right?

    Edmond¡¯s look was deadpan, his manager as willful as ever whenever the owner was not present. With how expected this was, though, he did waste a second before walking to the kitchen alongside Cole and Amanda, the three of them tying dark bandanas around their heads.

    Prep work was done early every day and backed up after mid-day closing if needed. So whenever the bistro actually opened, it was time to take and deal with orders and hardly anything else.

    ¡°Two for crab cakes, one medium-rare filet and one lamb to go!¡± Luke stated as he passed by the kitchen, leaving tickets on the counter.

    ¡°Right on it!¡± The cooks replied almost in perfect unison as they continued to work.

    ¡°Two onion soups and one fish pie! Make it quick and perfect!¡± At what seemed to be minutes later, easily more, Samantha added more tickets.

    ¡°Duck breast! Three of them!¡±

    ¡°One salmon and one more octopus appetizer!¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s the lobster casseroles!?¡±

    ¡°One tomato risotto, one seafood pasta, both to go!¡±

    Orders had easily exceeded a dozen by now, but even with Naomi absent in the kitchen, the actual workload was not heavier in any noticeable way.

    To begin with, stations were not static among the veterans at Le Petit Concert. Hot appetizers, meat, fish and garnish; the four cooks had experience in all, switching whenever necessary or useful.

    Overall, Edmond quite enjoyed this work environment; certainly more than his day shift on the other side of the bistro. As a cook, there were rarely any dull moments, he got along with his peers, and at least for the first half of the shift, the various smells of ingredients cooked in different ways were very pleasant.

    These two are almost¡­ that¡¯s it. Just some thyme and¡ª

    His thoughts were interrupted by an unusual ringing sound. Or rather, it was not that the sound itself was unusual. The counter had a call bell used by waiters to update on new orders, and for the cooks to make it known when they were done. Both ways of use were accompanied by a loud voice from either side.

    But not only was this not heard; the bell had also been rung twice in quick succession, almost like a door knock, rather than the one time used by cooks or waiters.

    ¡­ What?

    Edmond was positively confused, but he had no time to express that.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it.¡± Cole did first, after all. His usually jovial, handsome face stained with annoyance.

    Edmond knew better than to interrupt him of all people when in that mood, so his focus returned to the crimson-tinged, thick risotto with peeking bits of pancetta and chives. From the same order, the long pasta with creamy seafood sauce had already been placed in its travel-friendly container just a minute ago. It was time for the tomato risotto now, utmost care placed both to not spill anything or close the container improperly.

    ¡°How long on the risotto and seafood pasta!?¡± Cole¡¯s voice resounded from the counter.

    Talk about good timing.

    ¡°Walking, walking!¡± Said Edmond as he took out the appropriate plastic bag and placed the tightly packaged meals inside.

    He stepped forth, bringing food over to the counter just like any other time, despite the somewhat unusual circumstances.

    Circumstances which quickly became very stressful, as when Edmond laid eyes on the person on the other side of the counter, he outright froze.

    They were certainly not an employee, but more than that, this was a unique customer outright. At least for him that was the case.

    She was quite tall for a girl, probably around his seventeen years of age. Tied in a long, medium-high ponytail, her hair was of a chestnut brown that contrasted imposingly with her fair, but healthy complexion. Striking were her large eyes framed by brown fringes, turquoise in color and with a sharp disposition so very particular to the girl. Wearing a dark blue denim jacket and a lilac tank top, her lean but strong physique was quite apparent.

    He had been waiter to this girl and a friend who tagged along with her maybe four times over the last month, and had gotten to know her name as a result. Tatyana.

    Remembering a regular¡¯s name was not unusual for Edmond, nor for most of the veterans at Le Petit Concert, but Tatyana was a somewhat different case. After all, as averse as Edmond may have been to say it out loud, the chance to see her was a recent and huge boost to his daily motivation.

    But honestly, now he was just proud to have properly placed the bagged orders on the counter without dropping them on the way. Such was the surprise of seeing Tatyana at the counter..

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you a waiter here? Are you switching over?¡±

    Her uniquely husky voice addressing him all of a sudden felt like someone had let an ice cube fall down his shirt.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m a waiter during the day hours, but work in the kitchen for the later shift.¡±

    Every minuscule mistake, any semblance of a voice crack, all signs of awkwardness. No matter how small or even imaginary, Edmond lamented a different thing by the second, his face heating up increasingly more on each one he became aware of.

    ¡°And we are oh so grateful~!¡±

    Somewhat embarrassingly, he had forgotten Cole was even there until the older cook spoke up with such an irritating tone. But still¡­

    Thanks, man.

    ¡­ that attention-grabbing attitude had effectively done away with some of Edmond¡¯s nervousness. Enough that he came across a brand-new thought. An unusual, somewhat bolder idea.

    Deliberating over his choice for a single second that felt like ten, he spoke up.

    ¡°Can you wait just a minute more?¡±

    On Edmond¡¯s voice, Tatyana turned to him curiously. Her attention felt equal parts threatening and exciting.

    ¡°Mm? Sure, but why?¡±

    Edmond, regrettably, had set off the moment he heard her say ¡®sure¡¯. Damning his nerves leading to mentally telegraphed actions, he decided against turning back in what could be more embarrassment. The mistake had been made.

    Instead, he made steady way toward the lounge. More specifically, the lounge refrigerator, where the remaining cheesecake was. Before leaving the kitchen, he had taken a smaller ¡®to go¡¯ box for desserts.

    After taking the cheesecake out of the fridge and uncovering it, Edmond eyed it with just the slightest pang of regret before carefully slicing it into two small slices with the nearby, cleaned up server.

    I can just make another one next week.

    He thought while placing the pieces in the box. Outside of something work related, Edmond could hardly avoid embarrassing himself in this situation. But for all that mattered, he did have confidence in his cooking, especially the cheesecake he had made with so much effort and care. If Tatyana could enjoy it, then last night¡¯s sheer exhaustion was worth ten times over.

    In fact¡­ just the mental image of her tasting this cheesecake with similar delight to his coworkers earlier was enough to make him shiver in enthusiasm the entire way back to the counter, where he placed the new box on.

    Tatyana¡¯s sharp gaze became visibly confused as she glanced at it. To Edmond, it was still charming, but it also worried him.

    ¡°What¡¯s with this?¡±

    ¡°Cheesecake.¡± Almost as if by the action of a button, Edmond let out the excuse he had been thinking from the moment he walked away. ¡°We had leftover slices from an employee celebration today and the manager mentioned how nice it would be if you and your friend got to try it out. A special thanks for your patronage, or something.¡±

    Such a justification sounded a bit flimsy, even to himself. Not enough to be easily judged as nonsense, though, and he did not feel dissatisfied considering the brief time he had to think it up.

    While he was still worried, the small smile Tatyana showed right after took his mind away from any such concern, while paradoxically also making his heart beat faster.

    ¡°Huh¡­ mm, thanks then. That¡¯s really cool of Noelle.¡±

    The last part stung slightly. But that was the narrative he himself used, so he complaining was out of the question. He was more than happy enough with the apparent satisfaction the treat had brought her.

    ¡°Anything else you need?¡± Cole¡¯s dry question snapped Edmond out of his momentary daze.

    Tatyana shook her head confidently as she placed the third box inside the bag.

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good. Thanks a lot, for the cake and everything. Tell that to Noelle and the owner too when you can, okay?¡±

    Her smile grew just a tad more as she waved, yet not decreasing any of the moxie shown as she turned and walked away.

    Edmond hardly remembered to go back to his station until Cole spoke up.

    ¡°Seriously, man? I¡¯ve already told you how going for high-maintenance girls like that is a bad idea without experience, but you at least saw the opportunity and built up the courage to actually do something for once¡­ Still, why¡¯d you throw away your chance at the end!?¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t know why you came up with that excuse. It¡¯s not even a mixed signal, you just neutered yourself, and willingly at that.¡± Amanda added coldly as she took out a pie with golden-brown gratin out of the oven.

    She didn¡¯t even stop cooking and she¡¯s still giving me grief!?

    Edmond briefly closed his eyes and resisted the urge to shake his head as he began work on the next tickets.

    ¡°Why put her on the spot when there¡¯s other people watching? All that matters is she¡¯ll probably enjoy something I worked on.¡±

    Cole sighed at this response. Loudly, obnoxiously, as if trying to force his two coworkers to listen to it fully.

    ¡°She won¡¯t even know it¡¯s you, though. I swear, it¡¯s like ninety percent of your brain cells are just for cooking, and now ten percent for knight school or whatever it¡¯s called. Ed, you and I need to go clubbing and get you some dating experience asap, because is lunacy.¡±

    ¡°You really think Edmond¡¯s the kind of guy to do well at clubs?¡± Finished with the fish pie, Amanda proceeded onto the next ticket¡¯s appetizers without any loss to her tongue¡¯s sharpness.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, it¡¯s something everyone has to go through at some point. You saw how he does when left to his own devices!¡±

    Leaving aside how he was being increasingly more belittled by the minute, Edmond did appreciate such attention and care from his cowork¡­ friends.

    He still thought he had made the right decision, but it was hardly possible for him to get upset when they put such thought and emotion on how to help him, regardless of what the topic was.

    Not that the proposed plans were very feasible.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you if I get a free night, Cole. But as it is, it likely won¡¯t be anytime soon.¡± He said while stirring spinach with cream.

    ¡°Huh? Oh, right. You have that late night gig going on too. I really don¡¯t get how you aren¡¯t more of a cranky asshole with how much you have going on.¡±

    On Cole¡¯s words, Edmond¡¯s thoughts went to the backpacks still in his locker.

    ¡°It¡¯s more of a passion project. I don¡¯t really see it as actual work.¡±

    They would remain there for the remainder of his shift at Le Petit Concert.

    <hr>

    ¡°Have a good night!¡±

    Edmond tried to be as cheerful as possible in his departure, but was quickly crushed out of any hopes for cheering Samantha up when seeing her face. He was the second to last leaving, but with the amount of management work left unfinished by Noelle, Samantha still had a long while before she would be able to go home.

    ¡°Just get going, I don¡¯t need your pity.¡± She looked so soulless when saying this that Edmond¡¯s heart probably broke twice over.

    Taking the hint and her word, he set off without complaint. Edmond would have insisted on staying with her, sharing a workload he was not qualified for and being overall as much of a comforting presence as he could be. But he knew how much Samantha disliked anything she saw as pity, and besides¡­ Edmond still had a lot more work left to do.

    In fact, one could say that what Edmond saw as his true vocation began late at night, after his shift at Le Petit Concert. But first, he needed a place he could be alone in.

    Le Petit Concert was located in a relatively secure part of the entertainment district¡¯s eastern portion, so people still hung out and walked around at many places, even as night went on later than the current time.

    The usual dark alleys or empty parking lots were still present, but finding those that were good enough was a little tedious. Edmond was not quite a newbie, however, so he found a useful six story building without much delay. He had actually used this very building as his preparation spot a few times already, so there was no doubt on what to do.

    Taking care that truly no people were near, he stepped up the fire escape while making a significant effort to not cause any noise. He traveled all the way to the roof, where as expected, there was nothing other than a few discarded, broken down appliances. They would be gone once clean-up service reached the place, but until then, he could make good use of them.

    Edmond walked toward an unplugged refrigerator that had seen much better days, then lightly lifted and plopped it down to cover the door to the rooftop. He had already used it in the same way previously, so it was quite near to begin with. And by walking over to the door¡¯s wall that was unseen from the fire escape, he was confident both in terms of privacy and his ability to act in time if someone did arrive. It had never happened before, but one could never be too cautious.

    Edmond followed up by opening one of his backpacks and pulling out the outfit inside. It consisted of two main parts, upper and lower body sections with gloves and footwear included. The majority of it was of a gray so dark that it looked black in the current lighting, an opaque leather-like material with a decent give to it but without being too elastic. Most of the stretchiness, outside of allowing the suit to be put on, seemed geared toward improving its overall strength, which was noticeable both on touch and pull.

    The organite plates did further work toward that end, a couple of shades lighter than the rest of the outfit and giving off a decent, if deteriorated shine under the moonlight. By the suit¡¯s looks, they should have normally been placed on the front and back of the neck, major joints, forearms down to the back of the hand, shin, and top of the feet. The chest and spine in particular had the plates assorted in a way vaguely reminiscent of crocodilian armor. However, it was the ease with which this image came to mind that the ravaged state of the suit became so apparent.

    To begin with, this idea for the armor placement was only possible if the plates were symmetrical, which was far from the case. Many of them were worn and cracked both from apparent blunt force and heat, some having peeled off outright. Even the fabric itself was gashed in several places, leaving visible gaps in certain areas once the suit was worn.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    But beyond a few memories of related events, Edmond cared little about the damage the suit had piled up. It was a good advantage on the field, but it was far from what he considered as requirements for his activities. He placed the suit on the floor nearby and proceeded to undress.

    ¡­ If he were to be completely honest, this was the most dreaded part of the whole process. While he did wear a gym shirt and shorts underneath, they were both thin and tight, essentially useless during the advent of winter.

    Letting out white breath in shivers, Edmond quickly put his shoes in a prepared plastic bag and stored them with the rest of his clothes inside the first, empty backpack. He then quickly wore both major pieces of the suit, the inner insulating layer giving his body some much needed respite as it steadily warmed up. Organite plates buckling the two parts together through a belt at the waist area, he took out the hooded sweater from his backpack and zipped it close, over the suit.

    Edmond then opened his next backpack, counting the ¡®volatiles¡¯, as most might consider them.

    Disposable cellphones, three of them in a bag of cloth.

    Prana shocker, with mid-range shooting capacity. Just in case, the barely under brick-sized self-defense tool had its security lock placed properly.

    Gamma-class orichalcum shortsword, a training tool loaned by the Knight Corps. Its sheath was also tightly locked, so the danger was minimal, but he preferred holding on to it in case an emergency came up.

    And lastly, containment tools. Placed inside another small cloth bag, he remembered taking twelve with him and counted them carefully. Of a dark gray color somewhat similar to his suit, they looked and felt like marbles made of extremely hard rubber. In proper terms, they would be called ¡®delayed activation¡¯ type spells, some made from scratch and others simply maintained as part of Edmond¡¯s training every morning. Without delay, he buckled the bag containing them alongside the shocker, the blade and the bag of cellphones on his belt¡¯s small gaps.

    That was it for the dangerous tools, but there was one final thing Edmond was taking. Inside the backpack for volatiles, the vague glistening of more organite could barely be seen. Edmond took it out and immediately wore it on his face; a mask.

    Or at least that¡¯s what it looked like now. The amount of damage on it put the rest of the suit to shame, torn in such a terrible way that the entire top right corner, along with the top side and back portions all the way until the top-left of the forehead, were gone. What used to be a full helmet looking like a mere mask only covering three quarters of his face spoke enough of its condition, most of the edges jagged and bent as a reminder of all it had gone through.

    But regardless of its tremendously weakened protective potential, the face covering in tandem with his hood was more than enough to hide Edmond¡¯s identity, as was very necessary. It could still buckle properly on the neck armor portions, the light gray lens on his left eye hardly impeded his vision when regularly cleaned, and the inner layer made it about as comfortable as the suit.

    He closed the second backpack and slung it over-shoulder with the first one, exiting from his hiding spot next to the wall and finally lifting the refrigerator away from the door. He walked away from it and toward the rooftop¡¯s edge, an almost painfully chilly wind assaulting the uncovered parts of his head and face.

    Edmond Bach¡¯s nightly routine that he trained every morning for, what some would call ¡®vigilante work¡¯, could finally begin. Or at least, that is how it would usually go, if not for something unusual drawing his attention.

    He likely would have missed it if he was not improving his vision with prana as part of his usual scouting, but several streets away, below the neon lights of what appeared to be some bar or nightclub, he could barely make out a girl past the window.

    A girl who almost¡­ seemed to have noticed Edmond as well, looking straight back at him.

    ¡­ Am I crazy now? I barely even noticed her, even with enhanced vision. She must be looking at the moon or some weird car parked outside.

    Regardless of what the event truly was, Edmond pulled up his hoodie. He generally preferred to have his hair covered during patrols to be less identifiable, and the girl simply appearing to look at him with it exposed did make him uncomfortable. While at it, he also opened up more of his regulators, allowing the prana in the environment to flow through his body, improving his physical ability with a fundamental strengthening spell.

    He leapt away from the rooftop into another one right after, some added hooks on the mask¡¯s sides preventing the hood from blowing back. Before anything else, he had to reach one of the hiding spots for his backpacks, all the while watching out for questionable activity both on windows and at ground level. Edmond¡¯s pace was not the fastest it could have been when doing this, but that was hardly important. Dark attire and soft soles on the suit¡¯s feet, he was hard to detect even if someone were looking for him, let alone for the average passerby.

    Each backpack was left at a different, but easily remembered place. One at a roof corner of the local big name newspaper building, on a decorative marble wyvern, and the other one on the protective lightning bowl, meant both to stop lightning strikes and store them as backup power, of a large department store. If nothing else, the night was pretty lonesome around both places, so there was no danger.

    Edmond jumped back from the bowl and down the roof¡¯s edge, landing on another rooftop. Uneventful nights were fortunately more common than otherwise, and this one was not shaping up differently. But in his experience, low-ranking criminals tended to not be thoughtful enough to write diversionary notes. With a wary heart, he braced himself for whatever activity he might find witness Epsilon Five.

    He leapt and ran his way to the southeast, landing on building tops or rushing up walls when needed, making sure to scout his surroundings as attentively as he could while doing so. He had lived in Seyfelt for several months already, so he knew more or less how to get to any general area without the aid of a map application.

    Before long, he came across the establishment in question after hopping down onto a warehouse. While the building itself looked normal, a contemporary bar or restaurant type that was wide and surrounded with lightly tinted glass walls, the sign at the top with lit-up lining was unmistakable. A very characteristic inverted ¡®3¡¯ followed by a ¡®V¡¯, glowing in electric blue.

    Only one rooftop diagonally away, Edmond heard a sound that forced him to lay down on his stomach, only letting his face lightly peek out of the roof¡¯s edge. A running engine, from a hatchback that drew nearer by the second. The car itself was nothing special, but after it parked near the other three in the vicinity, the people that exited did show some particular traits.

    There were three, probably two women and one man, judging from their builds. Edmond could not be sure since they each wore some kind of face covering. What was more concerning, however, was that two of them had varying amounts of purple on them. Whether dyed hair fringes, a t-shirt, tattoos or any other thing, at least one clearly visible bit of purple was on them.

    Violet Thorn.

    That sort of appearance was typical of one of the major gangs in Seyfelt, commonly called ¡®Thorns¡¯ for short. Some of them did not share the look, such as the thugs Edmond had taken the note from and which he now doubly suspected to be part of the gang, but it was still seen in more of them than not, even for apparent low-rankers. For what he knew, it was probably a sign of status for completing a certain amount of tasks.

    Edmond did away with such pondering after the three Thorns entered the pub. Carefully, he lifted his body somewhat off the rooftop, looking at his surroundings. He heard no more cars arriving and those parked were shut off. There was hardly a chance people were still in any of them, and no more could be seen in the vicinity beyond that.

    Safety mostly confirmed after an extra peek through the car windows for either captives or crooks, Edmond raised his body and dropped down from the rooftop, landing on the sidewalk opposite to the pub. Being as silent as he possibly could, he hurried closer toward a side of the building before crouching behind one of the parked cars. While he left his head out to see inside, there was no one looking straight in his direction, and with the combined factors of the darkness, the pub¡¯s inner lighting and his own clothing, Edmond could have probably stood up entirely without being noticed for several minutes.

    He saw six people in the pub. Five of them were Thorns going by the face coverings and overall situation, two of them seemingly without any visible purple on them. Edmond could not confirm, as the sixth person, sitting opposite to one of the Thorns on a table, became the focus of all his attention near-instantly.

    It took him a few seconds to fully comprehend who she was. Not by failing to recognize her appearance, or from still being some distance away, but due to the difficulty of accepting she was there, less than twenty meters away from him.

    Her hair was platinum blonde, reached down to her shoulders and probably had not seen a brush in at least a month, while her eyes were a striking forest green. Her clothes were normal, a purple V-neck shirt alongside gloves, jeans and matte boots of a shared black color. She was not particularly tall, and while what could be seen of her musculature was splendid, no one would call her bulky either. If there was anything that particularly made her feel like the ¡®largest¡¯ in that room, it was the extensive scarring visible on her uncovered skin. Across her arms, neck and even face there were rough, scab-like marks of varying sizes and jagged shapes. Their color was a solid, almost painful-looking lacquer black.

    Fittingly, this young woman seemed to go by ¡®Scar-Tail¡¯. One of the big names in the Violet Thorn who had gone up against powered authorities several times, yet was still doing business without bothering with anything to hide her identity. A criminal of the feared type commonly referred to as ¡®Unmasked¡¯.

    Inside the pub, she took a couple pills from a small purple case, seemingly without a drink before continuing to count bills from a wad handed over by the Thorn sitting opposite to her. Edmond had arrived at his hiding spot just in time to see another one leaving the table before this one, so it was very likely she was verifying the low-rankers had made enough money on the given time, and taking her cut.

    As he kept watching, Edmond opened one of his bags and took out a disposable phone. He knew he would find some unique activity due to the note, but one of the Violet Thorn¡¯s Unmasked was far beyond any expectations he held. Even now, he had to consciously control his breathing to maintain a normal pace, trying his best to calm down the dread-filled racing of his heart. The trembling of his fingers made the task of dialing the police¡¯s number frustrating, to say the least, so he kept watching.

    The previous Thorn got up from the table, and was followed by a red-haired one, likely male. His nervousness was incredibly apparent, even as far as where Edmond peered from, the slightly but clearly smaller wad of bills he presented making the reason beyond obvious.

    No way.

    ¡°(Seyfelt Police Department, what¡¯s your emergency?)¡±

    The almost instant response from the operator went nearly unnoticed due to his shock.

    ¡°Violet Thorn members, including an Unmasked, are doing suspicious business at the Epsilon Five pub.¡±

    ¡°(Did you say ¡®Unmasked¡¯ and ¡®Epsilon Five¡¯? Are you sure?)¡±

    ¡°Yes, definitely.¡±

    Edmond had to make an actual effort to not yell at the operator simply doing their job. With each second he watched the scene before him unfold, he felt increasingly short of breath.

    Why did you even come without the money!?

    The bills were counted very quickly, Scar-Tail probably not caring much for accuracy when the amount was obviously less than desired. The remaining four Thorns stood by, perhaps unflinching, or more likely just terrified of what might happen next.

    ¡°(Okay, sir. I¡¯m dispatching a powered police unit but I need you to stay on the line and remain calm.)¡±

    Come on, please. He¡¯s one of your own guys, fuck!

    Edmond could hardly hear the operator by now, only his heartbeat echoing as far as he could tell.

    His unspoken begging was, of course, useless. The red-haired Thorn was forced down on the table by the others while Scar-Tail stood up from her chair, a long appendage seemingly unwinding from around her stomach. The shell-like covering on it was eerily akin to her scars.

    ¡°(Sir? Sir, can you hear¡ª)¡±

    Edmond immediately crushed the cellphone in his grip, running barely shaped prana through it to ensure its destruction.

    He stood up from his hiding spot and put his hand forward, fingers extended more for aim needs than anything else, while prana flowed and condensed in front for heat and concussive force. Before a second passed, two magic bullet spells were shot, one slightly ahead of the other and both piercing the pub¡¯s window without setback.

    The first of the baseball-sized bullets of orange light impacted Scar-Tail¡¯s black tail, deflecting it from its descending course. The second hit Scar-Tail herself on the temple, knocking her through tables and chairs into the pub¡¯s wall.

    I really did it now.

    Not only had Edmond attacked an Unmasked, one of Seyfelt¡¯s most dangerous criminals, but he had completely blown his cover while at it. The masked Thorns, noticeably shaken from their boss suddenly being knocked aside, set their sights onto Edmond and opened fire with two or three handguns, releasing the red-haired one.

    He quickly stepped aside from the bullets¡¯ path, running diagonally to the left and leaping to the building¡¯s top. Specifically, Edmond stuck to the part of the building above the entrance, hearing the gunfire right beneath him.

    Come on out, please. Before that crazy woman gets a steady walk!

    Thinking desperately, Edmond took the prana shocker with its safety lock removed in one hand and three of the dark gray ¡®marbles¡¯ in the other, retying the bag right after. Fortunately for him, the pub¡¯s ceiling proved too tough for the bullets to break through, so the four Thorns hurried out of the pub to hunt him down.

    Perfect!

    Without wasting a second, Edmond fed a spark of prana into one of the marbles and threw it full speed at one of them. Upon impact, the small projectile expanded tremendously at a great speed, causing the Thorns to step back. All except for the one hit by it.

    From one second to the other, the tight marble had become a huge blanket of thick, rubbery material, driven by momentum to one of the parked cars alongside the impacted thug. She tried to break free, quite vigorously at that, but on top of the actual strength of the substance, it stuck to the car and pavement below as if glued to them.

    Edmond¡¯s regulators may have not been anything special whether it be in quality or quantity, but even he could develop and use a strong spell like that so long as he had enough time beforehand. And for his line of work, there was hardly anything more crucial to focus whatever skill and knowledge he had into.

    The remaining three Thorns quickly recovered from the shock of the recent assault and shot at Edmond again, who leapt from the building¡¯s top and past them, landing just under two meters away. The containment rubber would wear off in around an hour, so he could ignore the trapped Thorn for now.

    He had already begun to bring the hand holding the prana shocker forward, but a unique flash of blue-green light forced him to step back by reflex. A sound like a static pulse was heard, followed by the asphalt being cracked and torn from the missed strike. One of the three Thorns was holding a javelin-like sectioned weapon, surrounded by very dense prana.

    Is that a field-use Knight weapon? Alpha-class? How does a guy like this have that?!

    Even while wondering about such strangeness, Edmond did not stop moving. In fact, now that he knew what weapon he was fighting, he could step closer not only to dodge the resumed gunfire, but to deter further shooting due to his proximity to the enemy¡¯s ally. It was while doing that, however, that he saw the red-haired Thorn staring from the pub in a frightened daze.

    ¡°Fuck off already! You think you¡¯ll get another chance!?¡± Edmond shouted in a rage. The shock of seeing the would-be victim still present had almost led to him being pierced right through by the prana-powered javelin.

    Thankfully, it seemed like his frustration had snapped the young man out of his stupor as he began to run off right after, but Edmond had turned his focus back to the battle without being able to completely see him off.

    On the next attack by the javelin, he did not dodge, instead blocking the Thorn¡¯s arm. He wasted no time in pressing the prana shocker against him and pressing the trigger, a powerful current running through the thug¡¯s body and quickly rendering it limp, leading him to drop the javelin.

    A prana shocker, much like a stun gun, used a high-power current to disable attackers, but per its use as a self-defense tool against prana users, it was improved by the same resource. Though that function was geared toward breaking through prana defenses, so outside of that, its efficacy was similar to a normal stun gun.

    Knowing the thug would just be stunned for a brief time, Edmond shoved him aside into the Thorn aiming her gun but still unable to shoot. As they fell onto the street, Edmond swiftly turned toward the last remaining Thorn, shocking one of his arms before he could regain the presence of mind to shoot again, and kicking him away right after.

    Edmond quickly activated the remaining marbles in his hand and threw one at each side, one impacting the two Thorns downed together and the other hitting the one most recently beaten. The three were completely trapped by the next second.

    ¡°Hah¡­ shit¡­¡±

    He did not know how much time the whole ordeal had taken, but it was surely much less than what it felt like. Rather than exhaustion, it was stress that had hit him now, but he was still making up for the accompanying lack of breath nonetheless.

    Still, he did not have time for anything else.

    Edmond only moved again after hearing the strident noise of shattering glass. He quickly dashed to the side, seeing the bulk of the pub¡¯s counter flying through the front end. It was large, heavy and very fast, Edmond¡¯s hand unable to get out of the way before it was struck.

    Bursting, lightning-like pain spread from it, causing him to drop the prana shocker that had miraculously avoided contact. The counter itself kept flying straight into the building opposite to the pub, shattering with a terrifying sound. But Edmond could not afford to turn and see, since from the broken glass at the pub¡¯s entrance, Scar-Tail stepped forth.

    The tail coming out of her lower back, thickening progressively from the origin point until the base of its stinger, had grown more than twice its previous size. The somewhat curved point itself, maybe seventy centimeters long and thirty thick, dripped a dreadful, colorless fluid. Even her scars seemed to have grown as well, their jagged edges sharper and pulsating forcefully.

    And still, all these changes paled in comparison to the sheer anger and ferocity present in her expression. Unconcerned with the threads of blood trailing down the side of her head, she lashed forward.

    Edmond could barely see the tail¡¯s movements, but somehow avoided it in time, seven meters and maybe two tons of danger smashing down on the spot he had just been in. The pavement almost seemed to explode, gravel flying in all directions from the sheer force.

    Scar-Tail roared in a way that was somehow completely human, and all the more terrifying for it. She pursued Edmond, her tail thrashing about with a speed and precision that stood completely at odds with its size and strength. It took all of his attention and agility to stay out of its path, even by using the cover of a few cars and walls the best he could.

    ¡°Wanna shit around, pig-fucker!?¡±

    Her words did not quite reach Edmond in full, as he was examining the situation as quickly as he could. The actual damage to his hand, pain aside, was unknown, but the counter had luckily hit a place covered by his suit¡¯s plating. Without that, he would have had to deal with a completely shattered wrist rather than whatever ache he currently had¡­ if it was not torn off outright, that is.

    He had dropped his shocker, however, so that was one less offensive option he could rely on provided he managed to close the gap, but honestly, his advantages perhaps leaned in the opposite direction.

    I have more reach!

    Edmond stepped back, spacing increasingly farther from Scar-Tail¡¯s weapon as he condensed the prana around his hand. Nearly reaching his conversion limit, he jumped to the side with all his strength, briefly stepping on the wall of the nearby warehouse. He shot all of it without delay, three magic bullets this time.

    Stressed as he was, one of them missed just barely, but the other two went well on their way toward Scar-Tail¡¯s torso. He did not know for a fact if they were faster than her tail, but their small size coupled with still being quite fast had to make them at least somewhat difficult to counter.

    And indeed, they did make it past the deadly appendage¡­ but right after, Scar-Tail simply smashed the magic to bits with her arm.

    Edmond¡¯s heart sank. He knew she needed an incredibly developed musculature to move that tail around like such, but that she could power through his offense so effortlessly¡­

    Well, range advantage¡¯s a bust. Unless I somehow catch her completely off-guard, nothing like the first shot will happen again.

    Not only was she strong enough that his spell was useless, the speed of her reactions also meant that a containment marble would not land on her either. But Scar-Tail gave him no more time to think of any alternative before resuming her assault, the armored appendage on her back drawing an arc as it gouged every bit of wall on its path, aiming for the descending Edmond.

    He flexed his legs and sprung away from the wall before being hit, landing only around six meters away from Scar-Tail. Well within her range, she did not even have to move her legs for her next attack, the black tail swerving behind her to strike from the direction closest to her enemy.

    Edmond was ready to resume his evasion as soon as he landed on the street, but what he saw through the corner of his eye during his previous jump made this impossible. In his desperation to avoid the natural weapon, moving to any safe place in what little time he was afforded, he had landed extremely close to the two Thorns he had trapped earlier.

    She wouldn¡¯t¡ª!

    Edmond¡¯s mind raced as his body felt like it was steaming, the armored tail approaching from his right at a blinding speed. Unable to think of anything else, he ripped the Gamma-class shortsword from its buckle.

    Making his best attempt to deflect it even slightly, the tail smashed into his makeshift shield with enough force to numb his arms, as well as shatter the shortsword¡¯s sheath. Edmond flew aside like a ragdoll, faster than with any of his jumps until stopping upon collision with the warehouse¡¯s wall.

    His consciousness briefly faltered as a terrible ache spread from his upper back, right shoulder and elbows, all the way to the rest of his body. Even the noise produced on impact went completely unnoticed by him, his hearing itself briefly muffled by a terrible ringing. Unceremoniously dropping to ground level, his head was somehow spared from a second hit.

    Thoughts flooded Edmond¡¯s mind. He had not been pierced by the stinger, and he managed to see the gray containment substance undamaged, the Thorns¡¯ heads and some limbs sticking out just like before. The worst had been avoided, but he could not even acknowledge the relief before seeing the black blur approaching once more.

    Scar-Tail had knocked him so far away that she needed a brief moment to approach, and Edmond made full use of that delay. Pain seemed to pierce him from the inside out as he forced himself to action again, but it would definitely be much worse if he did not. Edmond rushed away with clumsy movements, the black tail piercing through the warehouse¡¯s concrete with hardly any loss in momentum.

    He needed to get out of her range, first and foremost. Focusing on only one goal at a time, he hopped onto the building¡¯s fire escape and began to climb with the best speed he could muster. Unlike running up a wall, there were several real footholds on such a ladder, so even in his current state he could arrive at the top rather quickly, getting an ample view of the surroundings while at it.

    Edmond expected Scar-Tail to pursue him, hoping the counterbalance of her tail would give him at least a small edge when taking the fight vertically. But the trembling he felt at the top of the fire escape, almost like a tremor, betrayed all the possibilities he thought of.

    ¡°Fucking monkey, I¡¯m sick of your shit!¡± Scar-Tail snarled like a bundle of pure rage.

    She had not bothered to even take her tail out of the building, instead tearing through the concrete itself like a paddle through mud. An increasingly long and wide gash opened across the wall with shocking ease as the fire escape produced a strange noise. His foothold loosening, Edmond began to lose his balance.

    Is she about to¡­!?

    Then, the fire escape was soon torn away completely from the warehouse, falling along with several fragments of the wall. Edmond jumped off as soon as he could get a grip of his thoughts, but the position was too unnatural, his footing too weak. Bearing the brunt of the fall with his arms, he still failed to land properly on his feet, rolling a couple of meters on the ground afterward.

    But still, he had managed to choose the right direction just in time, as he saw the prana shocker on the floor where it had fallen before. Finally back within reach.

    Edmond powered through even more ache as he turned around, then saw how the fire escape had luckily landed quite far from any of the trapped Thorns. But by focusing on it, he noticed many parts of it dissolving strangely, like acid might do in a movie.

    So the stinger doesn¡¯t even have venom. It¡¯s¡­ much worse.

    Things were beyond critical now. He was now in a half-sitting position, with Scar-Tail still fast on his trail. She was not as far away as on her last attack, and he was still not on his feet to be able to dodge. Even so, there was still something he could do.

    Success would partly depend on her own reaction, but with hardly any other options, Edmond did not hesitate to take the riskier one.

    Rather than wait for Scar-Tail to arrive within her range on her own, the first thing Edmond did after barely getting on his feetwas dash forward. The distance between the two shortened much quicker, and the woman¡¯s attack was delayed briefly from surprise.

    As he approached, Edmond brought forth the prana shocker he had just recovered, but Scar-Tail¡¯s reactions and fighting sense were truly amazing. She was likely aware of where he had jumped toward from the start, making such a feint quite predictable.

    Thus, without delay, she brought down her tail closer to herself, to finally crush an insufferable foe¡¯s body for good.

    That¡¯s it!

    Scar-Tail¡¯s visible disbelief as Edmond suddenly stopped his approach, narrowly avoiding her preemptive attack, could have made him jump from joy. A motion practiced several times in his mind, he pressed the other trigger on the prana shocker. A projectile of paired points fired without delay, connected back to the shocker via specialized wires that drove the prana charge in immediately as they reached the upper part of Scar-Tail¡¯s torso.

    She screamed, her body and even tail crumpling and contorting uncontrollably, but she did not fall yet. Edmond expected this much, however, and quickly moved further in as he saw the finish line in sight, driving a kick into Scar-Tail¡¯s abdomen that laid her down on her side.

    Quick, quick!

    Unwilling to give Scar-Tail any time to recover, Edmond took out two containment marbles from his pouch. Without even closing it first, he triggered both spells and threw one on the woman herself, while another went for her tail. The dark gray spheres expanded into thick covers a few shades lighter and covered each place, even overlapping to an extent due to their proximity.

    ¡°... Hah¡­¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ it, right?

    Edmond stood there silently, looking over her and the Thorns, as well as the damaged street while catching his breath. Tying the bag with the containment marbles closed again, he finally collapsed on his hands and knees...

    "Fuck yes!"

    ... before jumping into the air with both fists above his head. Even after landing, he could not help but bring his arms up and down in sheer euphoria, laughing breathlessly all the while.

    It was difficult to come up with a part of his body that did not hurt, radiating the ache everywhere else while at it. Even more than that, especially after his instinctive celebration, the whole ordeal assaulted Edmond with an overwhelming sense of sleepiness. He did not remember many times he had felt so exhausted.

    But... I won. Against one of the Violet Thorn''s Unmasked, I actually beat her!

    Still, he could not stop yet. The police would arrive any second now, so he had to make his escape while he could. But it was not a police car that drew Edmond¡¯s attention so powerfully.

    Instead, a unique shadow had become visible right after he stood up, produced by something¡­ no, someone standing on the edge of the warehouse¡¯s roof.

    Edmond turned in alarm, freezing up as he saw the ponytail swaying in the cold wind. He had no time to try and make out any features before witnessing a great amount of prana gathering in the figure¡¯s hand, condensing silver light into the form of a spear. Even as far away as he stood, Edmond noticed the intense compression that had rendered it near-solid.

    This person was very good, and began their attack with enough speed to blur their body. Edmond¡¯s hasty dodge still resulted in his hoodie being slashed, but only then did he notice the brilliant, deep brown ponytail, the sharp turquoise eyes¡­

    Her!?

    Tatyana, the girl whom he had cooked for earlier today, and been a waiter for several other times. He could not hope to figure out the reason why, but she was here nonetheless, bearing witness to a situation that would look beyond shady to a just-arriving third party.

    ¡°Please wait! It¡¯s not how¡ª¡±

    Her attack resumed before he could even begin to explain.

    Edmond raised his training shortsword in a desperate attempt to block, but his shock was too much, while Tatyana¡¯s swings were heavy and fast.

    His guard was quickly torn down, and he failed to bring it back up as Tatyana stepped closer in to strike.

    ¡ª!

    The magic spear pierced through his abdomen smoothly, and Edmond registered a pain and sound distinct from anything he had ever felt.

    He could hardly believe that he managed to restrain a scream, but the suffering gasp released in its stead was hardly any better. Edmond sank to his knees while desperately covering his wound, the copious amounts of warm wetness felt through his gloved, trembling hand almost making him vomit.

    He was truly defenseless now. But as more time passed, the only thought that was competing to an increasing degree with the fear of his deep wound was relief at her halted assault. He could not block or dodge, but she had stopped attacking, with a perplexed expression on her face.

    Did I convince her?

    The increasingly close sound of police sirens interrupted Edmond¡¯s thoughts before he could get any answers, and he was not the only one. Without a clue as to how he retained the necessary presence of mind, it only took him seeing Tatyana become distracted by it to spring back into action.

    Exceedingly close to his limit, Edmond forced another excruciating spurt from his body to rush up the warehouse¡¯s wall, using his hand and the fabric worn across his body to slow down as much bleeding as he could.

    He ran, jumped, and even tripped. Edmond escaped as far away as he could with all the stamina he could muster for one sprint, until finally, he had to lay down next to the lightning bowl he had placed one of his backpacks in.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    He remained silent while trying to breathe, as calmly as he could barely manage. Clearly, and just as expected, his final run was a tad too much for him as things were. Mentally berating himself, trying to rationalize things the best he could, Edmond took out the second of three disposable cellphones he had brought, dialing a number he knew without even thinking about it.

    The other side of the line picked up almost immediately, but waited for the one calling to make themselves known first. So very him.

    ¡°Claude¡­¡±

    ¡°(Edmond? What happened? Tell me everything right now, you sound¡ª)¡±

    ¡°Later, please. I¡¯ll give you all the details you want, but now¡­ I just need some help getting one of my backpacks. And¡­ I might need some help myself, getting home that is¡­¡±

    ¡°(¡­ Where are you now?)¡±

    Edmond¡¯s face showed a boyish smile, his skin beyond pale. He was truly fortunate to have such a friend.

 I-4.5: Thorn in the Side

    Irina awoke groggily, with dawn yet to arrive. She was not sure whether it was four or five, nor did she care much. The discomfort was awful either way, to the point that raising her upper body from the bed felt like forgoing a seat in paradise.

    She glanced sleepily to her right, then to her left, where Marcus and Vanessa respectively slept without issue. Their restful faces made such a mockery of her that she might have poured cold water on them, were she not more concerned with what was happening outside the house.

    There was no noise, no bright lights, and certainly no tremors. It was no wonder her nighttime companions dreamed happily, but Irina herself was also aware of all the protective boundaries set up on the outskirts of her residence.

    Naturally, she became alert as one after the other, they were invaded and dealt with. An initial layer that hid the residence from ¡®notice¡¯, rather than one¡¯s actual senses. A second layer to drive intruders away through great emotional discomfort, and a third one to confound them as they got increasingly lost in a formless maze, forced to turn back or get nowhere. Only after passing these would the more violent ones be in play.

    The current invaders had reached the sixth of seven total layers, however. Not only that, but they had done so without triggering any of the damaging traps. Her two bedside companions certainly would have been forced awake if that happened, so scared as to make Irina laugh out loud.

    These intruders knew, whoever they were. But while someone else might worry about the possibility of a dangerous enemy, she trusted her work too much for that. She knew who to expect in these circumstances.

    Irina stepped out of bed, feeling Marcus¡¯ skin rub against her bare leg as she did so. She could have made no contact with a little bit more effort, but really, why would she?

    It was quite dark, but she quickly found a camisole, underpants and shorts simply by prodding around with her foot. Slippers were the most annoying, having found their way under the bed somehow. She quickly wore them alongside her jumbled attire before making her way to the bathroom.

    Door closed and lights on, Irina looked at herself in the mirror. Aside from a noticeable fringe at the top right and a few smaller ones at the lower left, her naturally blonde hair had been dyed a bright bubblegum pink that made her look somewhat younger than she really was. That is, whenever the length of it was not assaulted by her pillow and her eyes did not show her rough wake-up so blatantly. She still looked no older than her twenty years, but it was an appearance sloppy enough to bother her.

    Prepared to not go back to sleep for a while, she brushed her teeth and combed her hair to a mostly decent state so that only her eyes remained as a testament to her fatigue. She turned off the light, went from the bathroom back into the bedroom, and then out into the hallway. One of the expected people was already waiting for her near the other end.

    Quite tall, skin of a dark brown color and with well cared for black curls of a short length, he was quite good-looking despite a lean build that was more on the lanky side. Probably being outside until just a while ago, he wore a black leather jacket over a dark blue shirt, thick jeans, a pair of rather new-looking boots, and gloves.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°You really couldn¡¯t wait until I unlocked the door?¡± Irina walked past her visitor, hardly sparing him a glance.

    ¡°It got annoying to wait for the others outside. Y¡¯know how they do have to go through most of the last layers properly.¡± Alain replied with a deep, yet smooth voice. He followed Irina to the front door, unconcerned with her actively rude display.

    She unlocked and opened it, stressfully exhaling through her teeth as the cold night attacked her underdressed body. Clearly waiting for her, the remaining two members came into view.

    Slender, black-haired Jae-sung with his actor-like pretty looks gave off an uncanny image that was almost creepy in the cold darkness. It did not help that without any apparent discomfort, he wore a tight, long-sleeved V-neck shirt in white with an abstract doodle design, skinny jeans, sports shoes and nothing else.

    Just as impressive, if not even more so, was olive-skinned Javier standing just slightly behind, a mane of wavy, medium-length black hair partially covering one of his eyes. Easily exceeding the two-meter mark, he was substantially taller than even Alain, with musculature to match unlike the latter. Defined bulk was noticeable even through his gray parka, even more so through the jeans that naturally did not match his jacket¡¯s thickness. His appearance was not that of a bodybuilder, but for such a large man, even perfectly proportionate muscles made him look more than a bit beastly. It was difficult to tell whether the tranquility in his brown eyes was more relaxing or threatening.

    ¡°So, who¡¯s going to come up with the excuse for ruining my sleep?¡± Irina stepped back and sat on the chair normally used to put down keys and bags upon arriving, trying to get at least somewhat away from the cold invading her home through the open door.

    Jae-sung was the one to reply, a regretful if still light-hearted tone in his voice.

    ¡°Tina got busted.¡±

    It took Irina a solid second to fully process what he said.

    Tina, Valentina. The Violet Thorn¡¯s Scar-Tail had been arrested?

    ¡°You¡¯re shitting me.¡± She looked from Jae-sung and Javier to Alain, the latter one shrugging.

    ¡°It¡¯s the truth. She was taking cuts at Epsilon Five and things got way messed up.¡±

    ¡°Messed up how!? Don¡¯t just tell me a fucking bit at a time!¡±

    ¡°Snitch says some masked freak caught them by surprise. Took down Tina and like four dealers and left them trapped in some gunk, according to some girl the cops were interrogating.¡±

    ¡°Apparently this guy¡¯s been a bother on the street level for months, even has a few posters around. I guess he¡¯s feeling extra ballsy by now and today was really lucky for him.¡± Jae-sung followed seamlessly from Alain.

    Irina could not help it, clasping both hands to her face, then trailing down. This was truly a setback among setbacks, with one more worry to keep in mind.

    Finally, she asked, both wanting and not wanting to hear the answer.

    ¡°¡­ These four dealers. Did any of them have ¡®special loans¡¯ at the time?¡±

    ¡°Seems like one of them did.¡±

    Alain¡¯s reply felt like a nail on Irina¡¯s head. She brought her hands down to her lap, still together as she looked up to her fellows. She was smiling, but her eyes were anything but happy, despite having lost all of their previous sleepiness.

    ¡°Well, we don¡¯t bitch out from a fight, much less from a single cocky fuck. But when do we hit?¡±

    Irina¡¯s question was responded to in a way that caused even Alain and Jae-sung to turn in the same direction she did.

    ¡°Tonight.¡± Javier¡¯s voice was deep, dominating. Even fearsome.

    The word itself reminded Irina that it was probably four or five in the morning. This meant less than a day until they struck back.

    Was it an issue for them? No way. It was the masked piece of shit who was neck-deep in a pool of it.

    ¡°Debt or insult, everything is repaid. To the last drip.¡±

    No one spoke back against Javier¡¯s decree. Agreement was as universal as it had ever been.

    Wildcard, Phantom, Miasma and Hellbound.

    Four out of the Violet Thorn''s five Unmasked would get rid of the uppity annoyance.

 I-5: Alpheratz Knights

    ¡°Can you just slow down a bit?¡± Edmond asked in a low tone.

    ¡°Maybe I can. Can you not get yourself almost killed? Ever thought about it?¡± Claude¡¯s voice was anything but. He was not loud per se, but it did not matter when his irritation was almost tangible.

    Edmond narrowed his eyes, not feeling it in him to give his friend extra grief.

    Even with yellowish and blue bruises spreading from his back and arms, especially his right hand, and despite the hole in his gut sutured on the front and back, not to count the agony of going through his morning training in his current state; Edmond knew it was all his fault.

    The situation could have certainly been taken as that which Claude had warned him about for a long time, and he had still helped him out the moment he needed most, both to return home and in taking proper first aid measures.

    Even so, Edmond could not allow the conversation to remain so one-sided when considering last night¡¯s events.

    ¡°But I did not die, and a life was saved!¡±

    ¡°You only lived because of luck. You could have died, for a single guy who also happens to be a criminal!¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter at all! You¡¯ve got any idea how many people end up in that situation without it being their fault?¡±

    ¡°¡­ You really don¡¯t get it. That¡¯s not even half of the point I¡¯m trying to make.¡±

    Variants of the same conversation had spiraled forth and died down several times since last night, and every time their emotions rose just as high. High enough, in fact, that they almost forgot to keep their voices quiet enough to avoid eavesdropping.

    Which was especially important now, as they approached a large, university-like complex. Glass-filled buildings surrounded by various runes, with dozens of people traveling both across the facility¡¯s paths and into the facility itself from its open boundaries.

    People dressed in the same attire, only sometimes modified in one way or another. A military uniform that was also worn by Edmond and Claude, standard for cadets of the Alpheratz Knight Corps.

    Navy blue in color, a jacket top with a standing collar had silver buttons running from the bottom of the neck to just above the waist, with a silver-blue emblem of three spears crossed over a moon on the left side of the chest. Two leather straps stuck from the right shoulder all the way to the cuff of that same side, which had a colored strip attached to it that varied according to the person. Edmond and Claude had violet, but white, light blue, red and other colors could also be seen among the other cadets.

    A black leather belt with an emblem-engraved silver buckle tightened the jacket top at the waist into special openings, reaching just above the middle of the thighs over the similarly colored pants. Footwear varied mostly in height, which could also lead to it occasionally having the pants tucked in, but was essentially just variations of black combat boots.

    The most impressive, or rather convenient thing about the uniform, was the fact that neither Edmond, Claude or any of the cadets felt any of the painful Seyfelt cold while wearing it. Such a small enchantment, yet it made for great convenience.

    ¡°So¡­ which group were we in? I don¡¯t remember seeing it in the messages we got. This kind of thing didn¡¯t even happen last year.¡± Edmond asked, awkwardly glancing at the cadets ahead of them, around them as well as behind once they entered the facility grounds, eager for someone to just follow.

    ¡°No groups. It will supposedly be done with everyone at once, by the commemorative monument.¡± Claude replied, much more single-minded in their path and unconcerned with their peers.

    ¡°For real? I mean, the monument itself takes a lot of space, and with cadets of all years attending¡­¡±

    Edmond realized sooner rather than later how inconsequential his point was. After all, he and Claude were approaching the monument area just in time to see a display that made him catch his breath.

    The memorial structures were each around half a meter in thickness, perhaps a tad more, and extended to around four meters in height. There were over a dozen, made of a dark crystalline material with a strange luminosity within that made the engraved words written in different alphabets, names, even more apparent.

    Numerous cadets simply stared at them, not a single expression being exactly the same as another, besides serving as a peek into their sea of emotions.

    It was a rather known fact that when a knight perished in honor, it was their loved ones who would be contacted to carve their name on the monument. The special sorcery placed in it, when the name was written by someone with strong feelings toward that person, apparently allowed for their friends and family to feel a fragment of what made them special. Of course, every facility had an area dedicated to a similar purpose, but it was far from something he could ever fully get used to.

    With a heavy heart, Edmond could not help but wonder how many people had been lost by the present cadets, as well as those yet to come. So many of them were even younger than him.

    ¡­ A lot of them had probably been the ones to engrave names on the crystals.

    ¡°¡­ Hey, Edmond. Is that her?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Distracted, Edmond took a little over a second to fully acknowledge Claude¡¯s question. He tore his gaze away from the monument and looked around somewhat frantically.

    ¡°The regulars at your workplace, a brunette with an elf friend. Is it those two?¡±

    Claude¡¯s extra detail did away with Edmond¡¯s confusion, and upon looking in the same direction his friend was, he noticed them as well.

    Tatyana and Kloel, standing nearer to each other than to anyone else and wearing the same overall uniform Claude and him did, down to the fourth year violet straps on their right sleeve cuffs. For differences, Tatyana wore taller boots reaching just below her knees with her pants tucked inside, while Kloel had not only added boots of a similar height, but also leggings instead of pants and a pleated miniskirt.

    Edmond¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, then he cursed his lack of foresight.

    She hangs out with an untagged elf, I even saw her cast a spell last night, and somehow I didn''t think she could be here too?! Shit, I''m so stupid!

    ¡°So that¡¯s your type? I mean, looks aside, it¡¯s like she wants to kill her own friend with that glare.¡±

    ¡°Cut it out. She probably had to stay up really late last night.¡±

    ¡°Hm? How come?¡±

    Claude¡¯s implacable question made Edmond inwardly swear at his slip-up.

    Even worse, he had momentarily forgotten the excuse he came up with to explain his pierced abdomen while preventing further complications. Panic quickly ensued, even more so when knowing Claude would only grow more suspicious by the second.

    ¡°Movie marathon, I think. I remember her mentioning something like that when she went for a to-go order last night¡­¡±

    Thus, Edmond could not have been more grateful to his manager for her plans giving him another story to use, however unintentionally.

    Claude of course looked a bit unsatisfied still due to Edmond¡¯s unsure tone, but there was no helping that. He did his best to appear distracted, looking around curiously at the increasing numbers of fellow cadets¡­ until his gaze settled on one specific spot.

    For she was here too.

    Twirling one of her golden side locks between a thumb and index finger, Hilda seemed quite bored at the conversation among her own apparent group. She noticed him looking at her rather quickly, and after deliberating with a very hard to read expression, she waved with her free hand.

    Edmond doubted he himself showed a more pleasant face, but despite his guilt-ridden heart, he returned her wave with as much of a smile as he could muster. The exchange was awkward to handle, so he switched his attention to the three people right beside her.

    He first noticed a bronze-skinned man with slightly untidy black hair, around his own height. The contrast with his extremely light, almost ice-like blue eyes made for quite the striking appearance, though it would not have surprised Edmond if his uncompromising frown intimidated more than one otherwise interested person.

    The second person he glanced at was the tallest of the group, with jet-black hair in a shorter but higher ponytail than Tatyana¡¯s. His pleasant features hinted at heritage from the Jindao Empire¡¯s sphere, and when seeing him alongside the darker-skinned man from before, Edmond could not help but think of the heavily marketed model duos Isolde sometimes took interest in.

    This man did notice him, however, aiming a side-glance right back at Edmond. It was a glare like an eagle¡¯s, with irises more golden than even Hilda¡¯s hair.

    Edmond immediately felt a chill run down his back, and almost took a step back just from that look alone.

    In his brief second of fright, he could not take a proper look at the third guy before Claude tapped and lightly pulled on his arm. Edmond turned, still somewhat shaken but his attention now focused on what happening at the front.

    Four instructors dressed in their own uniform stood in a rough center without monuments to obstruct, each extending a hand or both as they handled the invisible flow of prana into a large rune, slightly over three meters in diameter.

    The rune had apparently been releasing its converted prana for a relatively long time now, as the now opal-colored mist converged into a more concrete, if not solid shape with a rather rapid pace.

    The prana set into the form of a glass and wood table, a black marble floor, a gaming console at the side of a TV left ¡®unfinished¡¯ as it hit the illusory rune¡¯s boundary, and a very large sofa with red cushioning. Edmond was astonished by what he could see of the person sitting down on that couch.

    She wore a uniform similar to that the cadets and instructors wore, but again with its own significant variations. The emblem on the left side of the chest was golden instead of bluish silver, and so were the buttons, buckle, as well as the added shoulder scales. But despite that, the woman¡¯s own features stood out more than anything else.

    She might have been in her late twenties, but it was somewhat hard to tell by her exceedingly pale skin. Far from ¡®fair¡¯ or even ¡®milkish¡¯, it instead looked like a corpse¡¯s, working against features that could have otherwise been attractive. Her hair was mostly unbrushed, and of a color that went beyond ash-blonde and into the undeniably silver. Her irises were of essentially the same color, making for quite an off-putting display in tandem with everything else.

    The woman¡¯s holographic display laid its chin on both black-gloved hands, fingers interlocked.

    ¡°Good morning, though it¡¯s actually evening where I am. I¡¯m Anastacia Marinca, General-ranked.¡±

    Is there anyone here who needed that intro? For a Heavenly King?

    Surprised by the greeting, Edmond wondered if such inconsequential formality was just a requirement from the facility.

    Holding the highest soldier rank among the Alpheratz Knight Corps and so few in number, the four Generals could almost be deemed celebrities within the military company. For people to call them the ¡®Four Heavenly Kings¡¯ with any degree of seriousness was an enormous statement on its own.

    If anyone here did not recognize General Marinca¡­ well, Edmond could barely imagine it.

    ¡°No one likes a lengthy orientation speech, so I¡¯ll get to the point. Not all of you are new to Seyfelt, but even for those who are, I¡¯m sure this place¡¯s reputation is no mystery. Most of you are not enrolled there by choice, and I will confirm that if you¡¯ve been sent in by the higher ups, it¡¯s because you are a problem.¡±

    Anastacia let out a bomb-like statement without a shred of shame or restraint.

    Cadets knew better than to interrupt a General¡¯s talk, but reactions were not hard to notice, mostly negative. People shuffled about, scoffed and glanced away. Some frowned and grumbled almost inaudibly, while more than a few let out dismissive chuckles.

    Edmond thought a few cadets might have overreacted a tad, but Anastacia¡¯s statement was undoubtedly rude. Were Claude not by his side, as impassive as ever, he may have become rather uncomfortable himself.

    The pale General leaned back on her sofa and continued on, not a single regard spared for her words¡¯ impact.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what any of you did to get yourselves into this situation, and honestly I don¡¯t care. That¡¯s up for the instructors to deal with, but there¡¯s still misunderstandings most of you have that are annoying me to no end. So I thought that if I took the time to tell you some truths, the usual amount of waste could be reduced.¡±

    Interest had begun to visibly show itself among several cadets. They were still far from the majority, Anastacia¡¯s earlier disrespect had been effective in that regard, but Edmond could notice the amount increasing nonetheless.

    She proceeded, to whoever would hear.

    ¡°With the lot of you who got all offended at what I said, I have more than enough proof this lack of thinking is still prevalent. Listen here, the fact that you¡¯re problematic is precisely why I have chosen to endorse this facility rather than any other.¡±

    Confusion spread among the majority of cadets this time, with idle chatter from the dismissive many dying down very quickly.

    Endorse?

    Edmond was surprised by her choice of words, but did not have time to think deeply on the matter.

    ¡°Most of you have probably thought about this once, twice or more times than what is useful, and several have rightfully dismissed it as ignorant arrogance. But there¡¯s still truth to believing that your ¡®problematic¡¯ traits are what give you extraordinary potential. You¡¯re not just training to face demons and dangers from this very world, both of which can easily defy and even break whatever common sense you¡¯ve developed throughout your lives. No, even as cadets, it¡¯s likely those of you in the upper years have already faced them, and it will be the same for you newer people before long.

    ¡°In those circumstances, regardless of what any horseblowing bureaucrat in turn wants to say, actual warriors like me know we don¡¯t need neutered soldiers who can¡¯t contribute on their own. We¡¯re not a collective unit like other armies might aspire to be, but a force of various powers unmatched through our own methods. Embrace what makes you hard to handle, impossible to dominate, because that¡¯s what will prevent any enemy from overcoming you as well.¡±

    Silence, even if for only a few seconds, had become absolute among those present. Yet when it came to thoughts, it was the complete opposite.

    Anastacia¡¯s words were antithetical to the ideal developed and followed by the vast majority military forces across history. To say hearing them from one at the peak of the Alpheratz Knight Corps felt uncanny would be near the nadir of understatements.

    Edmond expected those in charge to be panicking at least a bit at such a speech, but the instructors he saw near the projection ranged in their expressions from complete calm to visible approval.

    This was ludicrous to see from graduated soldiers, especially those with experience. But despite that, it was an idea that still brought a unique kind of satisfaction to Edmond. A feeling like that a child might have when their strict parent agreed with them on some crazy thought, a unique sense of confidence only someone held on a pedestal could grant. As if for just a moment, one had been raised up to that level as well.

    Edmond knew he could not be the only one feeling that way, and he found nothing to think otherwise when glancing around.

    Instead, it was his ears that caught the odd one out.

    ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    Let alone Edmond, pretty much every cadet and even the instructors had turned to the tall young man, the first one to speak up ever since Anastacia stopped her talk.

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± Even the General herself lent him her direct attention.

    The shaggy-haired young man, a fifth year cadet per the red strap on his right cuff, stepped forth from within the few people ahead of him. His eyes were narrowed, his teeth probably gnashing against each other behind his lips.

    ¡°You admit to not having a clue about us, and still go on with this shitty lip-service? It¡¯s easy for some big shot Heavenly King to say this nonsense when you¡¯re pampered by the big shots, let alone everyone else. But you¡¯re telling us to keep at it, when we¡¯re the ones constantly being treated like some nail sticking out!?¡±

    ¡°What I¡¯m saying is¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not finished! You said your piece so I¡¯m saying mine! You don¡¯t respect us enough to even stand up from your seat when talking about all this danger we¡¯ll face! Hell, you said it¡¯s evening where you¡¯re at, so you¡¯re not even in the same country as us! And you want us to listen to this crap about ¡®endorsement¡¯!?¡±

    If Anastacia¡¯s earlier speech had brought forth complete silence, the young man seemed to be inspiring absolute outrage. Whether arguing against or in favor of the fifth year, hardly anyone remained silent.

    ¡°To think we would see a cadet telling off a General.¡± Even the aloof Claude showed some very real surprise.

    ¡°He¡¯s insane! And doing so in front of so many people just makes it worse!¡± Edmond could still hardly believe a senior of only one year was so bold.

    The bickering among cadets continued for several seconds, exceeding a minute and reaching two, but it soon started to become subdued at a disproportionately fast pace.

    More people were noticing the impassive Anastacia, looking on with some interest but no discomfort. Which was, in a way, much more unsettling than righteous anger at an insolent brat.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have minded a small interruption if you wanted me to stand up.¡±

    ¡°You really think this is¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, no. Now you will let me finish.¡±

    The pale General¡¯s tone was not loud, yet the odd strength in it left even the furious cadet speechless briefly. For just an instant, something abnormal seemed to be present in her voice.

    Anastacia stood up from the sofa, the projected image flickering for a split-second.

    ¡°But that¡¯s just one thing. Frankly, there¡¯s no difference whether I¡¯m here or there with you all, as you will see.¡±

    The flickering quickly turned to something like video buffering, then to complete instability of the rune¡¯s illusion. Half of Anastacia¡¯s body looked warped, twisted like poor recording quality.

    Edmond trembled as he recognized another view right as the General continued speaking in an alien voice.

    ¡°It might be useful. Demonstrations tend to be better than words.¡±

    The prana image was certainly becoming more and more unstable, but the distortions in Anastacia¡¯s body and voice were not due to that fault. It was obvious to anyone paying enough attention, how the ¡®overlapping¡¯ of countless instances of each spoken word had its own pace, regardless of the flickering¡¯s own. It was doubly apparent for the entire right half of her body, which was now seeping a viscous, hideous blackness from head to foot. To call it ¡®darkness¡¯ or ¡®shadow¡¯ did not feel fully accurate, it having an oddly corporeal feel and yet so absolutely black that its dimensions were impossible to judge accurately. Being all one could see as the right side of the General¡¯s body beyond a silver gleam where her eye should be, the complete picture was disturbing even with a brief glance.

    It made one wonder whether that blackness had simply covered her, or if it was her true essence behind a human shell.

    The ambient color had become less vivid without warning, and it was difficult to even tell when it had happened. The shock once the change was noticed was no lesser for it though, with the cadets and even two instructors searching for the anomaly''s source in clear panic.

    All of two seconds were barely needed for it to be found.

    Edmond looked skyward, where the face of the sun itself had been stolen. Only a thin band of light remained as the flimsiest of boundaries, its near-totality now a darkness that looked like a circle had been sliced off reality itself.

    Was that a spell? Or maybe just her own Area of Influence? Edmond did not know and he was aware he would not be able to tell even with a full day to look. The most important issue was much more straightforward of a matter, but no less terrifying for it.

    Anastacia said it was evening wherever she was. The fifth year was right to say she could not have been in the country if that was the case, but there was more than that. For it to be evening there while it was morning in Seyfelt, she had to be in another continent, a completely different part of the world. Yet she had produced an effect like this all the way in Seyfelt, within just a few seconds.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Edmond¡¯s thoughts were disrupted by a view that paired his racing heart with a dense lump in his throat.

    The hollow eclipse shattered. Or rather, it had begun to expand in cracks that affected that which was near it, the very sky. The recently gray heavens changed once more as jagged lines tainted them in every direction, the same blackness as the stolen sun growing in a twisted web. The impossible vision of a sky that could crumble and fall was right there, somehow feeling as real as its former blue extent.

    Only Anastacia¡¯s echoing voice could draw anyone¡¯s attention away from that.

    ¡°This is what I am after rushing past the walls anyone put around my self. Distance that means so much to you might as well not be present for me. I doubt even two of you will even come close, but for those whose desires make you ¡®problematic¡¯¡­ will you not try and see if you can?¡±

    The General of black and silver smiled coldly.

    Even after the sky was repaired as quickly as it broke, even after the utter darkness on her right side vanished without a trace.

    It looked just as hideous as before.

    <hr>

    It had only taken a few more minutes for Anastacia to finish her ¡®introductory speech¡¯.

    Even after all the subsequent start-of-term talks, touring around the facility itself and explanations of rules and resources, the effects of General Marinca¡¯s display on the mood of nearly everyone had barely receded.

    Small talk seemed all but absent no matter where one looked, people came and went from what seemed to be work and training-related issues only, and there was an air of tension that felt almost solid.

    Luckily for Edmond, he could distract himself a little with an important errand.

    ¡°Good morning¡­?¡± He greeted with some doubt as he entered a particular building. It would not have been surprised if the people who had stayed indoors were just as frightened as those outside.

    Contrasting the usual architecture at the training facility, Seyfelt¡¯s knight armory looked thick and dense. The proportion of glass to metal was a complete inversion of the other buildings, and the former was hardened to such an extent that it lacked any luster and reflection.

    The insides looked as dull as the outside, gray in an almost uniform manner, with no seats or features to speak of other than a two-man counter¡­ wait, no, there was only one person behind it. The other one appeared to be just another visitor.

    Quite tall and healthily slender, he could not have been past his mid-twenties. His medium length, wavy hair was a weird in-between of brown and blonde, almost olive-colored. He made it work with a confident face and air, though.

    Gradually, Edmond recognized him as more than just one of the four instructors from the recent event. Enough so to become slightly nervous upon being noticed.

    ¡°Huh¡­ well, I think that¡¯s enough. It¡¯s the first day and you already have visitors, so we can follow up another time.¡±

    The instructor did not even wait for a reply from the armory clerk. He just turned around and left, as if all essential business was over and he cared for nothing else. He did spare an apologetic smile toward Edmond as he left, however. The eyes behind his rimless glasses, if anything, showed regret at being an inconvenience.

    Edmond kept looking until the armory¡¯s doors closed behind the man, and even a few seconds afterward. He may have stood like that even longer if not for the clerk speaking up.

    ¡°See something you like? Your type? Don¡¯t bother. I really don¡¯t know what his problem is, but no one deserves even half of it.¡±

    ¡°¡­ do you not know who that is?¡±

    Edmond¡¯s disbelief was beyond obvious, but the clerk seemed too annoyed to care or even notice.

    ¡°Mm, new instructor, one brought to do quality control and stuff here at the armory. They didn¡¯t tell us he¡¯d be this annoying, though¡­¡±

    Beyond confusion at someone in this line of work not knowing the man at least by his face, some of the clerk¡¯s words peeked some more of Edmond¡¯s interest.

    ¡°Why did you need new staff for that? Repairs are being done or something?¡±

    The clerk shrugged, as if he was trying on purpose to maintain the image of the classic ¡®can¡¯t be bothered¡¯ worker.

    ¡°Who knows? It could be that or anything else, but what¡¯s important is that some of the equipment has gone missing due to that. Maybe even stolen.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I see.¡±

    So that¡¯s what went on last night?

    Memories of the recent battle surfaced in Edmond¡¯s mind. The Alpha-class javelin wielded by that Thorn, a person who did not seem to have any real training with it. Had a Seyfelt gang really managed to steal from a Knight armory?

    Any more thinking on the matter was interrupted by the clerk, who kept rambling on as if not expecting any replies.

    ¡°Really, I get the issue but like, can¡¯t they send a less snobby guy? And so annoying too! Like, I just man the counter, and not every day at that. Just how much does he expect me to know!?¡±

    ¡­ but perhaps some of that rambling was deserved, Edmond did end up accepting.

    ¡°He probably doesn¡¯t have many others to ask. There¡¯s the technicians of course, but aren¡¯t you people handling the day-to-day a better bet for noticing something off?¡±

    ¡°I guess¡­ but still. Just who is that guy to act like that? You brought that up before and now you¡¯re trying to defend him. Sure, he¡¯s on the hot side, but what gives?¡±

    This clerk really had a special talent for wearing out Edmond¡¯s patience.

    Narrowing his eyes, he replied to the inquiry with a deadpan tone.

    ¡°His name is Throvim Van Svelten, a big authority on runes. Even you¡¯ve probably read a few news articles about him, about how he reworked classic teleportation systems for living beings into much more convenient forms.¡±

    For the first time since entering the armory, Edmond saw the clerk go speechless for more than three seconds. Certainly impressive, even if the silence did not last much longer.

    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re serious? You mean the guy who¡¯s about to figure out cheap teleport travel!?¡±

    ¡°¡­ among other things, such as the evacuation systems we have here.¡±

    Is that really what he¡¯s concerned about!?

    Even when after adding more to it, Edmond¡¯s point seemed quickly dismissed by the now quite giddy clerk.

    ¡°Wow, I really didn¡¯t get the vibe from that guy. If you asked me, I would¡¯ve figured him out to be more of a geek, you know?¡±

    ¡°Right¡­ well, armories like this are usually constructed with layers upon layers of runes, both for structure and protection, right? So someone like him is just about the best you could get to fix the issue.¡±

    The clerk¡¯s eyes darted to the side, his lips pursed tight on hearing the explanation.

    ¡°I guess that explains the whole attitude problem, if he¡¯s such an expert¡­ Whatever, what¡¯s done is done. He may be some famous big shot, but I¡¯m not going to just let it be if he acts like an ass.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s opinion of the clerk brightened a little bit again. He was truly a young man of ups and downs.

    ¡°So, what are you doing here?¡±

    In between Throvim¡¯s presence and the whole talk with the clerk, Edmond had briefly forgotten the reason he went to the armory in the first place.

    Mentally sighing at his carelessness, he lifted a light gray, rectangular case. Running down his planned responses to any possible questions that could be asked, he placed it nervously upon the counter, alongside its key.

    ¡°I had a training accident with my Gamma-class last night. The sheath broke, so I¡¯d like a replacement.¡±

    ¡°Huh¡­ alright then. Is the same size and type ok?¡±

    ¡°¡­ sure?¡±

    The clerk¡¯s reply was dry, to say the least. But as Edmond waited for something more, some semblance of accusation or suspicion, all the clerk did was unlock the case and retrieve the shortsword within, before engaging attentively with the counter¡¯s computer.

    ¡°¡­ so you need my ID number or¡­¡±

    ¡°Why would I? You just need a replacement. Aaand¡­ there. Your new Gamma-class is registered as ¡®loaned¡¯. Just wait a few minutes while it makes it through security.¡±

    ¡­ you can¡¯t be serious.

    For all his paranoia about the strength of his excuses, not getting to use them felt almost as bad.

    Edmond¡¯s feelings toward the clerk plummeted yet again.

    <hr>

    It had taken around ten minutes for Edmond to receive his new training weapon. Adding to all that had previously happened, it had probably been around two and a half hours since he had arrived at the facility. The specifics did not really matter anymore, though. All he cared about was that his stomach had deemed it long enough.

    The insistent growling, however, reminded him of something aside from hunger alone.

    ¡°Fourth years don¡¯t have to stay any longer today. Lunch?¡±

    Edmond asked Claude, who had been waiting outside the armory. Not stopping his walk, the latter simply followed along the moment he passed by.

    ¡°Sure. Domino¡¯s Mask?¡± The brown-haired young man replied in an aloof manner, still impressive to his friend.

    When it came to General Marinca¡¯s demonstration, Edmond was perhaps not as shaken as some others, though he could not let go of the experience just yet. But for Claude, even if he had looked as stunned as anyone else during the actual display, he now seemed as calm as any other time.

    Edmond certainly appreciated that attitude, and how it helped him relax as well.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, we¡¯ve had that a lot. Can¡¯t we walk a bit and check out other places?¡±

    Claude¡¯s look became puzzled at such a response. Enough so that he didn¡¯t reply for a few seconds even as he kept staring at Edmond.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Neither of us like to just walk around and pick on a whim. What is it now?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I just want to see if I can take care of something else while at it. Just hold on and you¡¯ll see what I mean.¡±

    Edmond felt more than a tad embarrassed about the reason for his unusual plans. But as expected, Claude knew better than to make him more uncomfortable by pressing further.

    ¡°Fine then. How did the replacement thing go? Did they ask anything about the sheath?¡± He changed the topic with visible interest, if not worry.

    A bit absent-mindedly, Edmond replied by briefly opening the thick weapon case, allowing the new sheath to be seen, free of any damage or signs of use. The size was about the same, belying a similar weapon locked tightly within.

    ¡°The guy didn¡¯t even ask for my ID number. I was worried about the time of it breaking being suspicious, but all he asked was if I wanted the same model.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s voice was half-frustration and half-disappointment as he closed the case back up. He honestly wondered if maybe that carefree clerk was wholly to blame for the lost equipment.

    Unusually, Claude let a small grin appear on his face momentarily, apparently restraining a chuckle.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s better to be overprepared than under, is it not? You can still keep those excuses if you ever need something of the sort again. It¡¯s not a waste.¡±

    ¡°I guess¡­ but I still feel like crap. And an idiot.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t go all sitcom and try to finish with ¡®a crappy idiot¡¯. I beg you.¡±

    His intentions so transparent, Edmond could not help but feel embarrassed. But the moment he glanced away, with his cheeks heating up¡­ he briefly froze.

    ¡°You might think it¡¯s quirky or funny or whatever, but¡­¡±

    Claude¡¯s words hardly registered in his confusion.

    There was no particular thing to look toward, at least nothing worth of attention. Even from before, Edmond could not really imagine what it was that drew his attention so strongly.

    But what he did see was the movement. Perhaps a bit paranoid on his part, he briefly thought it was more like the ¡®escape¡¯ of whatever had been between faculty buildings and trees.

    ¡°¡­ you there?¡±

    Claude¡¯s more direct, inquisitive tone brought Edmond back from his world of thought.

    ¡°Y-Yeah, I think I¡¯m just tired. Last night¡¯s bad sleep is probably catching up to me.¡± He excused himself with an honest feeling.

    ¡°Mm. Well, lunch should help with that, and you can take a nap or something once we get home.¡± Claude replied with barely noticeable tone of concern.

    Edmond smiled naturally at it, just slightly curious about his earlier distraction.

    Idle banter followed on as the two young men headed out of the facility¡¯s grounds. For the sake of convenience, it had been constructed almost right in-between the education and entertainment districts, which had the advantage of dedicated businesses being readily accessible on nearby streets. Diverse restaurants were one such type of establishment, popular among the young cadets who spent much of their time around the area.

    And yet, contrary to his earlier words, Edmond seemed hardly concerned with them as he and Claude walked past. While lack of attention to finding a place to eat may have been confusing at first, the reason why became clear very soon.

    He saw two people, seemingly sharing their task of picking a restaurant. The sight of one of them made Edmond relieved at not taking much longer in the armory.

    Thank goodness the other two aren¡¯t here. This is better than I thought.

    Ignoring Claude¡¯s sudden look of realization, he walked toward Hilda.

    ¡°Hey. Are you two hungry?¡±

    The blonde turned in slight surprise, her maroon irises almost showing off.

    ¡°Mondi? ¡­ I mean, we are but¡ª¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t decide, right? Yeah, that¡¯s expected of you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no build-up now? Changing the pace by talking shit from the start?¡±

    While carrying on the usual banter with Hilda, Edmond did not fail to notice the person who had been accompanying her. The third youth out of those he had seen right before General Marinca¡¯s display, the one he had not gotten a good look at.

    He was somewhat over an inch taller than Edmond himself, just under the golden-eyed man with the ponytail from earlier. His hair was of a very light brown and his irises almost seemed rose-ish in color, while his features were conspicuously close to ¡®baby-face¡¯ territory.

    Overall, he did not look all that impressive compared to the two that Edmond had seen earlier, helping him behave more casually than he otherwise would have around a stranger.

    His reply came out very easily as a result.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not here to make fun of you. I just know you have a hard time choosing this stuff and I know which places are good around here, so how about you tag along with us? My treat.¡±

    He quickly regretted not sparing a glance toward Claude until after making his offer, but the man in question did not seem uncomfortable. The look he returned was one of understanding, and maybe even interest.

    As Edmond thought of how he owed yet another one to Claude, Hilda turned to her companion after a brief moment of pondering.

    ¡°What do you say, Abel?¡±

    The bright-eyed youth¡¯s response seemed almost whimsical, if still interested.

    ¡°Why not? Let¡¯s just tell Fei and Sirhan to meet us there. Can you give me a name for the place?¡±

    Addressed directly by Abel for the first time, Edmond was briefly stunned before replying.

    ¡°It¡¯s called Domino¡¯s Mask. A burger place.¡±

    ¡°Really? Your first recommendation for us is a burger joint? Mondi, there¡¯s a reason ¡®kiddie palates¡¯ are called such.¡±

    Hilda¡¯s reply was sharp, almost half a laugh, and quick enough to overtake Abel in just picking out his cellphone.

    Edmond¡¯s expression surprisingly changed to a smug one, practically saying ¡®she doesn¡¯t know~¡¯ with his look alone.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see. The tacky name isn¡¯t just for show.¡±

    Abel chuckled, Claude sighed, and Hilda¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    The four teens promptly made their way toward Domino¡¯s Mask.

    <hr>

    ¡°Damn it! Mark my words, this is the last time you make a fool out of us!¡±

    ¡°Hahaha! And this is the millionth time I hear that threat! Try being the first one to make it reality, to catch Mistress X!¡±

    The thief, dressed in a way so conspicuous, dramatic and carnival-like so as to be an insult to the ¡®vocation¡¯ itself, disappeared all of a sudden in a burst of red smoke. And while the mafiosos pursuing her groaned out loud in frustration, the customers sitting at tables beyond the reach of the spotlight cheered in sheer delight.

    One such table, into the dark that was only illuminated by dim neon lights, was the one occupied by a laughing Hilda and a smirking Edmond. Abel had also joined into the enjoyment, and even Claude seemed quite engrossed in the story being shown.

    ¡°Hah¡­ Seriously, this place is so extra!¡± The blonde leaned back on her chair so much that she seemed to want a fall.

    ¡°And of course, you love it.¡± By this point, Edmond¡¯s smug airs had grown to the point that more than one person might throw a drink at him.

    ¡°Come on! You¡¯re not supposed to out me like this, I can do it on my own!¡±

    But Hilda was certainly not one of those people. Claude was the next one to speak up, his tone attempting to remain serious in spite of his excitement at the performance.

    ¡°When will the others arrive?¡±

    With Hilda in no state to even have heard Claude¡¯s quieter voice, Abel was the one to reply.

    ¡°Pretty soon, but we don¡¯t have to wait for them. Let¡¯s order our stuff and I can just order for them.¡±

    ¡°Rather confident. You know each other that much? Or just messing with them?¡± Claude asked in slight surprise, getting only a casual shrug from Abel.

    ¡°I recommend the Last Shot, the Death Trap and the Jewel of Pandora.¡±

    Edmond almost rushed to say, causing Hilda to turn with an incredulous look.

    ¡°Just who was the freak who decided to mix a live show about phantom thieves with burgers and fries?¡±

    ¡°A genius, that¡¯s who. But honestly, I think the show thing came first, and burgers were just the easiest thing to focus on while keeping the show good.¡±

    ¡°Is that so? That¡¯s something I¡¯ll have to judge, Mondi.¡±

    Between the four of them, they barely took a couple of minutes to fiddle with their menu screens on the table. The waiting time, for what should have been fast food, was not all that short. Yet all things considered¡­

    ¡°Three Death Traps, the Last Shot!¡±

    ¡°A Disguise Master and an irreplaceable Jewel of Pandora!¡±

    ¡­ when the trapdoors and secret passages burst around them, over-the-top phantom thieves handing over the orders out of nowhere, the extra time had just worked to make the shock and thrill even greater.

    It was almost to the point of numbing the flavor of the burgers that honestly did match the show¡¯s quality.

    As the four teenagers enjoyed their meal, Hilda leaned back on her chair again, now facing the others at the table.

    ¡°Whoever¡¯s behind this joint is pretty crazy, but nothing compares to what happened this morning. Seriously, that was so stressful for no reason.¡±

    The topic was changed rather brusquely, but if one were to overlook the bit of sauce briefly present on Hilda¡¯s upper lip, her eyes were unusually serious.

    ¡°You mean what the General did?¡±

    On Claude¡¯s question, she nodded before taking a large sip from her drink, the jovial-looking Abel chuckling as he kept his focus on the show rather than the conversation.

    ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t expect General Marinca to put on that sort of show.¡±

    ¡°Show? She was just bullying that poor asshole for being scared. It¡¯s easy for someone like her to talk shit from her position as one of the four, but she should know not everyone has that.¡±

    Edmond frowned slightly. He did not fully disagree with Hilda¡¯s complaints, and it would have taken some next level cruelty to think the General¡¯s display was warranted. But for the second thing she said?

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that was the answer, no matter how rude the guy was. But you¡¯re just making the same mistake as him.¡±

    It was unwarranted. Hilda¡¯s eyes went wide for a brief moment, then she put her drink down.

    ¡°No way, Mondi¡­ You actually agree with her? You think everyone has the potential to become someone like that?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what she said.¡± Edmond clarified, his voice tinged with annoyance. ¡°If that was the case, there would be far more than just four Heavenly Kings. But you don¡¯t know what everyone is capable of, especially with us cadets.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯ve gone past your second year at least, then you should know.¡±

    But despite his reasoning, Hilda looked just as baffled as before, her mouth briefly agape to join the shock in her eyes. Seemingly not happy with having raised her voice, the girl took a deep breath before continuing.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way you¡¯ve trained enough to pass two years without getting some grasp of where you stand, and that should be enough.¡±

    ¡°Two years is nothing. You¡¯d be short even if you said ten years.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean two years to get to a General¡¯s level¡­¡± The way Hilda spoke, Edmond could have sworn she held herself back from calling him an idiot. ¡°It¡¯s about basic understanding. If after two years you can¡¯t imagine a way to do what the Generals or even the Numbers do, then I¡¯m sorry, but you¡¯re not of the same cut.¡±

    Every word she said, every idea completed, it all angered Edmond more and more. Concern over one scared person was one thing, but did she think everyone was like that?

    ¡°That¡¯s your made-up standard, and you¡¯re just going to write off everyone who doesn¡¯t fit it as some clueless dud?¡±

    ¡°How did you ever get that from what I said? There¡¯s places for people of all sorts of talents, even among knights. But there¡¯s no problem being afraid of what has to do with the special ones, and you should know if you¡¯re one of them or not sooner, rather than later.¡±

    Edmond fell silent, ignoring Claude¡¯s nudging below the table and Abel¡¯s worried look over at Hilda. Those two, the restaurant, and pretty much everything else did not matter anymore. In his eyes, in his ears, there was only Hilda, and from the way she glared, it may have been the same for her.

    Perhaps the only way they were the same, if she really believed the things she was saying.

    ¡°You¡¯re so full of yourself. It¡¯s okay to be scared, yes, but you never know for sure who might end up doing something great.¡±

    ¡°Think you can prove me wrong, then?¡±

    He did not expect the tone with which Hilda phrased such a question, however. A challenge, if he had ever heard one being made.

    ¡°And how?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s say we spar.¡±

    If everything aside from Hilda did not matter before, now it was all non-existent. Hearing these words from her, Edmond nearly forgot to breathe.

    ¡°Think if we did that, you¡¯d be able to figure out how to do what I do?¡±

    But Hilda spoke calmly, with utter confidence in her method, as well as her accusation. After all, when had Edmond ever said that he¡­?

    ¡­ It did not matter.

    ¡°Are you implying you could see through General Marinca¡¯s ability?¡±

    There were more important things for Hilda to answer, even if the question seemed to just annoy her even more.

    ¡°What a dumb question. All I¡¯m saying is¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, finally!¡±

    Somehow, Abel was finally able to pierce through the veritable pocket their argument had created. Not through his actions alone, as both he and Claude clearly had wanted to stop them for a good while. But rather¡­

    ¡°Took you two a while.¡±

    ¡­ through a new arrival, further heralded by Hilda¡¯s words.

    Edmond turned around and so did Claude, toward the two young men walking to the table.

    Eyes of gold and icy blue, one young man light-skinned and the other one more bronze. The two from before, during the event at the facility.

    ¡°You know why that is.¡± The blue-eyed youth bit back at Hilda with an almost venomous tone.

    ¡°Come on, Sirhan. This place is just so insane! You should¡¯ve come here earlier, is all we¡¯re saying.¡± But Abel interrupted the beginning sparks of another argument in a flawlessly natural way.

    If that was Sirhan, then the taller man with the ponytail would have to be Fei? A man who looked between Edmond and Claude, and then at Hilda with a hard-to-read expression.

    ¡°Seems like we missed something rough, didn¡¯t we?¡±

    Hearing his words, Abel lightly grumbled even as he kept smiling, his attempts at peacekeeping made harder each time. Hilda, in contrast, seemed calmer overall. Though when looking at her eyes, they showed anything but a pleasant mood.

    ¡°¡­ We already got food for you two as well, so we can just go if there¡¯s so much work to do.¡±

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    Edmond¡¯s eyes opened wide as he heard something terrible and saw Hilda, followed by quite a disappointedly sighing Abel, picking to-go bags out of the nearby dispenser to carry both of their leftovers, as well as the meals for Fei and Sirhan.

    He almost opened his mouth to say something against such a sudden, unceremonious leave, but what could he even say that would not come out in bad faith?

    Under Claude¡¯s resigned look, Edmond merely accompanied Hilda with his gaze as she walked away, the dry steps almost admonishing him.

    ¡°See you around, Mondi.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    With hardly a proper look from either of them, that exchange was it. No more words were spoken as he remained at the table, and she left with the rest of the just reunited group.

    That is, except for the tall man with the black ponytail.

    ¡°¡­?¡±

    Even in such a terrible mood, Edmond still became confused at this abnormality.

    Fei just looked at him, for several seconds at that, before his golden eyes narrowed in some strange understanding.

    ¡°Doing well, eh?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Excuse me?¡±

    Edmond audibly wondered at such strange words.

    He briefly turned to Claude, wondering if there was some misunderstanding. But the youth in question looked just as confused, if suspicious as well.

    It was a long shot at any rate. After all, Fei was unmistakably looking at Edmond. This remained the case when he turned back, facing those eagle-like eyes once again.

    Edmond¡¯s regret began building up once more as he mustered the courage to speak, already dreading the reply.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t really remember what¡ª¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing for you to remember. I don¡¯t even know your name.¡±

    But the ponytailed man¡¯s reply utterly blindsided him. He did not just find it hard to reply, it was like his very voice was deprived of him for the moment.

    Edmond felt the seconds pass by like entire minutes, discomfort welling inside him with a needle-like feeling. But ultimately, Fei¡¯s action was not one that he could afford to overlook.

    ¡°Then what do you mean by ¡®doing well¡¯?¡±

    He asked full of uncertainty, consciously restraining his wish to look anywhere else.

    A desire that only became greater when Fei replied.

    ¡°Is that not the case?¡±

    Golden eyes slightly narrowing, his tone was almost like water in its smoothness. The sneer that naturally appeared on his model-like face was, by all accounts, pretty normal.

    So why was Edmond overcome by an almost freezing anxiety? What was it about this man that made him so deeply regret not looking away when he had the chance?

    A premonition-like sense of danger, so unbearable that he forgot to draw breath until his body ached.

    The man called Fei seemed nothing if not satisfied as he calmly turned around, trailing his three cohorts.

    It was still some time before Edmond began to feel the ambient temperature returning to normal.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Claude, surprisingly, expressed his confusion unabashedly.

    Edmond turned back to the table with a graceless, sluggish pace. He looked at his food and drink on the table, without a shred of appetite.

    Not even that absurd experience was enough to wash away his regret.

    ¡°Just forget it. Two for fucking two, I¡¯m actually such an asshole.¡±

    Without any more delay, he collapsed on his arms over the table.

    ¡°That¡¯s actually stupid to say, but you are a dumbass.¡± Claude replied, dryly smacking Edmond¡¯s arm.

    He did not find it in him to complain at all.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s much better.¡±

    ¡°It is, and don¡¯t you try to argue with me on that. Anyway, that was a weird question. Figure out what she¡¯s doing? Wouldn¡¯t just beating her in a spar prove her wrong?¡±

    ¡°Are you making fun of me now?¡±

    Edmond did not lift himself off his arms, but he did turn to Claude enough to glare at him. The brown-haired young man looked back with an expression of confusion, then resignation

    ¡°¡­ Mhm, you¡¯re right. Sorry.¡±

    An honest apology, but one Edmond still found hard to accept, when it reminded him of the painful truth both he and Hilda were clearly aware of.

    That if they were to spar, neither of the two could imagine him coming out on top.

    ¡°But that aside, I think you could have been a little less fragile. From you, it was all about ego, but from her, it¡¯s probably just concern.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s glare, already softened a fair bit, began to drift away.

    ¡°You think?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. From what you told me, you, your mother and your siblings are her whole ¡®family¡¯, right? Lived together before joining the Corps?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yes.¡±

    ¡­ I guess he thinks he¡¯s the asshole between us?

    It would not have been the first time Claude took upon that role. However¡­

    ¡°Do you think maybe she was reminded of¡ª¡±

    ¡­ he had hardly ever been as bold as now.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±

    Edmond sentenced angrily. His tone was decisive, regret pushed aside briefly, to the point that Claude visibly raised an eyebrow, then closed his eyes in acknowledgement.

    ¡°Alright then. At any rate, maybe you can make things right with her tonight. Isn¡¯t she staying at your family¡¯s place? Messing up feels like your life¡¯s purpose sometimes, but you¡¯re still not the type to do so more than twice on the same thing.¡±

    ¡°You have no idea how much I want to, but I¡¯m busy tonight.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s words changed something in Claude, almost as if a switch was flipped. A switch to turn the very picture of aloofness into one of pure anger and frustration.

    ¡°I swear if you¡¯re thinking of going out in your suit after last night I will¡ª¡±

    ¡°Holy shit, chill. It¡¯s game night at Samantha¡¯s house and everyone¡¯s coming, including Naomi who couldn¡¯t make it to work for the celebration. It¡¯s basically the real deal and a make up for how scuffed last night was.¡±

    Claude fell silent for several seconds. The pressure around him and his frown decreased in intensity, but his tone still carried a glimpse of the emotion shown just before.

    ¡°Game night?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s mostly fighting games on her console, but she always finds lots of weird stuff for the next one, so it¡¯s pretty spooky stuff. More than the average Violet Thorn, you know?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not funny.¡±

    ¡°Right, right. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Flashing an apologetic smile at Claude, Edmond sighed as he turned his face in the other direction, still laying his head on his arms. It had been just a few seconds, but now his unsmiling eyes were matched by his lips.

    That was so shitty¡­ to turn Samantha¡¯s game night down¡­

 I-5.5: Fangs Bared

    There was something special about dogs. A notable aspect of how they lived their lives.

    It may not have been truly unique among unpowered animals, nor even when adding magical creatures to the mix, but their genuine and almost simple way of carrying themselves about was still worthy of notice to anyone who would pay attention.

    Among living creatures, dogs were among the few who would respond like a genuine picture of honesty. While it was definitely a mistake to group up and generalize the behavior of such cunning animals, whether by breed or by family unit, it was almost always correct that what people would call a ¡®good dog¡¯ had been blessed with a fulfilling life, while ¡®bad dogs¡¯ were those who had suffered some mistreatment.

    But isn¡¯t that a generalization too~?

    Javier ignored the sarcastic remark from the ethereal voice only he could hear. To begin with, he had never been the type to be annoyed by banter like that, much less after six years of their unusual partnership.

    Talk was unnecessary. Providing his body as protection within a world foreign to it, the demon from Nox would become one of Javier¡¯s assets. The arrangement had remained unchanged for quite some time, with no significant issues.

    Dismissing the demon¡¯s occasional words of surprise or irony was now second nature, though they were just distracting enough for Javier to not notice the frightened visage in front of him until now.

    Even to this day, he often forgot the impact his extraordinary physique could have on others. To the boy no older than twelve, the fact that his dog had been relentlessly growling and barking at Javier probably felt like a death sentence. A pretty unavoidable one too, as the dog was large enough for its back to reach the boy¡¯s waist, so it was likely too much to ask for him to forcefully pull it away through its leash.

    Javier looked from the boy to the dog, and back to the boy. He put the notebook and pen aside on the park bench he sat on, and spoke up.

    ¡°I¡¯m not bothered.¡± He said with about as obvious an honesty a human voice could have.

    ¡°R-Really!? Oh, thank you so much, sir! I really don¡¯t know what came over her!¡± The boy looked so relieved, one could have believed he had been holding his breath until now.

    Satisfied, Javier turned back to the dog. Less barking, and much more growling now, she seemed far from pleased after a brief exchange between the boy and the beastly man. With such aggression in blatant display, there was no need to say what would probably happen if he extended his hand toward her.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Despite all that, or maybe because of it, Javier showed nothing but a small smile. The dark, impassive eyes might have softened just a bit as well, surprising the boy.

    ¡°It¡¯s no issue. This is bound to happen when she carries such a debt.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Debt?¡±

    As if the boy¡¯s response had not even registered, the pleased Javier continued to speak unimpeded while looking at the dog.

    ¡°You¡¯re very loved by her.¡±

    ¡°O-Oh, I guess that could be it? I mean, she¡¯s been with us since I was little!¡±

    Javier shook his head.

    ¡°More than time, she has been treated well. When given such love, of course she would try to protect you. That¡¯s how things should be.¡±

    The boy failed to hold back a laugh as he knelt next to the dog, caressing and mumbling to her affectionately.

    ¡°¡®Protecting¡¯ when there¡¯s no danger is just annoying¡­ I guess you really like dogs?¡±

    ¡°I think they¡¯re trustworthy.¡± Javier answered as he noticed the dog relaxing bit by bit on every touch and word from the boy.

    ¡°Do you have any, then?¡± Getting his hand licked after little effort, the boy smiled while asking.

    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±

    The dry response seemed to disappoint the boy, who let out a small sigh of regret as he stood back up. But with his companion in a much better, more complacent mood now, he did not remain upset for much longer himself.

    ¡°I hope that changes soon. I¡¯m sure any dog would be happy with you, sir!¡±

    With an upbeat wave answered by Javier¡¯s awkwardly raised hand, the boy and dog continued their stroll without any problems.

    So, back to the double-checking bore now?

    The demon found itself without any replies once more. Javier merely showed compliance with the expected action, by picking up the notebook and pen again.

    Opened at the same page as before, he ran over the plotted notes about the Violet Thorn¡¯s mysterious enemy again.

    More specifically, about their activity patterns over the last five months, retrieved mostly from moles within the police and veteran street operators, with an additional three months of less reliable information.

    With the bulk of his time since last night spent in gathering the information and a little over an hour analyzing it, Javier had reached a very usable conclusion.

    If his reasoning was correct, then he could narrow the possibilities down to a city block, though only if being punctual.

    Javier took out his phone and messaged Irina.

    [We¡¯ll have just under an hour of unimpeded time, anything more and we risk being noticed beyond what¡¯s convenient. How much can you set up?]

    [you already figured the whole thing out? with one hour i can probably do like one building if we do it well]

    [That¡¯s good enough. We can just have Miasma watch for when they¡¯re coming and drive them toward the building if necessary.]

    [really going hard on this asshole arent you?]

    Javier did not reply, putting the phone back in his pocket as he stood up from the bench. There was no need to answer questions made for the sake of talk.

    To repay a debt was a given, and a debt of violence was no exception.

    Restraint was not even something to be mentioned.

 I-6: Dread

    Edmond did not bring a watch or his actual cellphone during his nightly patrols, for obvious reasons. Nonetheless, his experience was enough to guess the current time as somewhat past eleven.

    Only having a small dinner in his apartment several hours after the mess at Domino¡¯s Mask, Edmond felt another painful throb in his mind due to his lies.

    A pang of conscience? Probably. But it was not exactly regret.

    He knew why Claude was being so intense, and understood his reasoning too, but it was not nearly enough to be convinced.

    I was the one who messed up and got hurt. Why should my screw-up expose others to danger while I do nothing?

    After all, he had his own reasoning too.

    With the broken suit covering his body and a black hoodie over it, Edmond looked down onto a wide expense of Seyfelt from up a tall office building. The air was even colder at such a height, and the wind currents felt as he ran and leapt toward a lower rooftop almost numbed what little of his skin was still exposed.

    It was only while moving across different buildings, descending and climbing, up walls and past them, that he fully realized the current effect of his injuries.

    Normally, Edmond was quite fond of the traveling part of his usual patrols. Even during the winter, the liberty to move and stretch to his heart¡¯s content, jumping and sprinting in a way that would have been so out of place in the day-to-day of just walking, made even such cold air a treat that was both energizing and relaxing. It was simply fun, to the point he often found himself indulging in unnecessary acrobatics without thinking.

    But that was not his current experience. All turns, each flip, every moment of exertion felt like much of his back and arms were being pinched by a shutting door, all the while an electric prod was pressed against his abdomen, with heat reaching the other side. The wind was hardly a respite, and Edmond found himself working up a fever-like sweat during a night so close to winter.

    The pain¡­ he could handle it. On its own at least, it was something he had to bear through. But thinking about his stamina, about what it would mean in the heat of the moment, when he had to take action with someone else at risk¡­

    Worry mounted at a constant, torturous pace. The fear of how many ways he could slip up, the terrible mistakes in judgment he could make, remained in his mind until something truly bizarre forced those thoughts to the side.

    ¡°¡­?¡±

    Edmond stopped in his tracks on a low rooftop, bordering the area some people called Seyfelt¡¯s slums.

    His gaze focused on the rooftop around thirty to forty meters away, he saw a single young man standing by the raised lip of the building¡¯s top. His face and overall appearance like those of an Eastern actor or idol, it was now unmistakable that he was looking back at Edmond. But this was not what had surprised Edmond to the point of freezing up.

    Neither was the fact that he was wearing fashionable, light clothing without any sign of discomfort due to the cold, nor that he was standing on a tall rooftop just like that, or even the trails of black fog coming off his left shoulder.

    Rather, focusing on that shoulder, Edmond only became more confused. After all, before he reached this spot, when he had first caught glance of the man from a few dozen meters away¡­

    What just¡­?

    ¡­ All that left side, from the shoulder to the hip, had been missing, with only the black fog in its place.

    The rooftop under Edmond crumbled without warning. No, the action was too violent to be called ¡®crumbling¡¯. It had instead shattered, like glass exposed to a powerful explosion. He felt the force of the impact and the flying shards of rubble around him, while falling into the dark hollow of the building. If there were any additional floors before, they probably had broken away in the same manner.

    What the fuck!?

    He had no time to waste.

    Twisting his body in midair, Edmond kicked at one of the still solid, yet jagged edges of the broken concrete with all his strength, using it as a makeshift foothold for a jump. This was not a height he could not survive, but he had no reason to endure needless harm. The wall he leapt to would allow him to smooth out his descent¡ª

    ¡°Ah¡­!¡±

    His expectations were quickly betrayed when the wall he stepped on, without wasting a second, grew several large points in the opposite direction.

    Edmond quickly recognized his only edge, the fact he had just stepped onto the wall and could quickly bounce back to avoid being skewered. But the spear-like concrete formations were fast, managing to still make a good amount of contact despite his retreat.

    His eyes wide-open and forcing focus through the panic, he moved the best he could, trying to avoid some of the sharp points and block others with the armored parts of his suit. Feeling the ripping pain in his right upper arm, waist and left inner thigh, it was the point that reached his chest armor that knocked him further away, right into the opposite wall.

    Barely able to react in time and use it as another foothold, the fiery explosion produced at the same spot caught Edmond completely off-guard.

    He gritted his teeth to suppress a scream from the heat and force assaulting his body, blown back into the air and falling to the ground alongside the rubble. Desperately attempting to cover his more vulnerable spots from the remains of the exploding wall, he heard some very loud, oddly jovial words.

    ¡°Oh my, that was rather quick of you. Sad it doesn¡¯t matter in my territory!¡±

    Edmond did not recognize this woman¡¯s voice or looks. Even after pushing his ache-filled body up onto one knee, the look he got at her mostly pink hair and luxury brand winter clothes rang no bells. The situation and environment stood at such odds with her gleeful appearance it felt ridiculous.

    Territory¡­ so those spells were her doing?

    No. Just calling them ¡®spells¡¯ was inaccurate. The action was too fast, but the attacks themselves were pretty general in their scope. As dreadful as it was to think about it, Edmond might have died if that were not the case. Could it be they were rune-based traps?

    The sound of a step right behind him prevented any attempts at further analysis, replacing them with an abstract, yet dangerous feeling approaching. Taking advantage of his kneeling position, he collapsed forward to avoid the attack he knew was coming.

    ¡°Eh?¡±

    Light breeze on his hoodie and a somewhat confused voice, Edmond followed his evasion with offense into the small, but crucial opening. Putting strength onto his arms, he continued his forward motion into what could have been a roll, but extending his legs powerfully toward the place his assailant would have been.

    He felt nothing, however.

    What¡­!?

    Not stopping his motion, Edmond caught an upside-down look at who had just been behind him.

    A dark-skinned man in the leather jacket was there, just where he should be after attacking with that hook on his hand. A place that should have exposed his chest and chin to Edmond¡¯s counter kick.

    But all he had hit was empty air.

    Did he just move back to the same spot after dodging¡­? But why!?

    Completing the flip, Edmond landed on his feet amidst the debris. Trying to catch his breath within whatever time he was allowed, the exertion and pain continued to catch up to him. If not for his mask, Edmond would have been unable to hide a truly pathetic expression.

    ¡°Holy shit, he almost got you! Hahaha!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, whatever. You had the first move and didn¡¯t do him in, so who¡¯s really the screw-up here?¡±

    Only half-listening to the banter from the pink-haired woman behind him and the hook-wielding man in front of him, Edmond instead focused on the building¡¯s wall. Or rather than the wall itself, the fact there was no door.

    This guy¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure he wasn¡¯t here when I first fell. Even if I couldn¡¯t look around properly, I would have noticed him moving to avoid all the falling concrete. Unless¡­

    Two possibilities were present. The man had no need to avoid the debris, or he had come through the wall without the need for a door or to break it.

    It took a few seconds, but Edmond became awfully aware of a person who could fit both of those. The presence of the black fog man and the woman with the ¡®territory¡¯ were bonuses, the three complementing each other in the hasty hypothesis.

    ¡°Violet Thorn. Phantom and Wildcard, right?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget ¡®Miasma¡¯.¡±

    Beginning to turn so that he could keep both of his attackers within sight to an extent, Edmond got a direct view of the actor-like young man from earlier, descending¡­ no, reforming part of his body from the black fog, as the rest was essentially dragged by it so all of him could arrive to the bottom of the building. A display that made Edmond¡¯s every nerve stand on end.

    ¡°What would you know~? Boy scout does his homework!¡±

    ¡°You two make it way too obvious. Might as well go all out with a battle cry or some other nonsense.¡±

    ¡°Is there any point for us of all people to not show off~?¡±

    Even Edmond found himself agreeing to Miasma¡¯s statement.

    They were Unmasked, powered criminals who did not fear exposing their faces to whatever authority was present, much less someone like him. Top members of the Violet Thorn, much like Scar-Tail from last night, and this time there were three of them.

    Just a coincidence? Very unlikely, especially if they were all together.

    So this is payback? What the fuck¡¯s with this response time!? Scar-Tail was only caught last night!

    Edmond could not think of a way for them to find him so quickly, but that was irrelevant to his situation. They had him cornered, and he was screwed¡­ if he tried to fight, that is.

    Holding onto his right arm with his left, shivering from more than just the pain and the cold, Edmond gathered the most facts he could remember, as fast as was possible to him.

    Wildcard is in control here, just like she said. The rumors about Phantom using some form of intangibility seem to be true, and Miasma¡­ it¡¯s probably better to not risk it and try to find out his specifics.

    The prospect of battle was grim with just one of them, let alone the three together. Chances being truly null on anything was a somewhat tenuous topic, but Edmond knew his odds of victory were as close to zero as was possible.

    However, if he acted without the intent to fight, things were different. Maybe not by a lot, perhaps only a minuscule amount, but his chances were still strictly better.

    There¡¯s nothing else I can try¡­ Alright!

    While the three Unmasked argued, Edmond extended his hands outward. He felt the visceral heat of the surrounding prana condensing, shaping into a spell.

    He had no need for power, and density could also be lower than usual. Instead, he focused on quantity and speed. If the bullets were weak and of little substance, it was still possible to form a lot of them quickly.

    Their movement was just as fast, spreading like a violent water splash in every direction. No real damage would be caused by such a weak spell, but instead of that, Wildcard¡¯s hypersensitive traps, spread throughout the whole building, were magnificently set off.

    ¡°What the¡­!?¡±

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    The Unmasked, who had looked on with just inklings of curiosity before, yelled out as they were exposed to a variety of dangerous phenomena. Beyond the spikes and explosions from earlier, blue-ish electricity licked across the walls and the air, almost slicing winds blew, forces of push and drag battled and much more.

    A veritable maelstrom of ruin rampaged on, and Edmond used it as his shield.

    He was no safer than these three from the unfolding chaos. If anything, he might have been more vulnerable. But he trusted in the edge of not being surprised by it and having his following actions planned out.

    Edmond forced his legs to run with every ounce of strength he could muster. Away from Phantom, the only one who could have ignored the onslaught of activated traps, and toward a particular wall. The one where he himself had triggered one such trap, and the following explosion had torn a large hole in.

    Bearing through the trap effects that made contact with him, charging into even more of them as his body felt like breaking apart, Edmond could not waste this chance. With another push, he jumped through the torn wall and out of the building.

    ¡°Ggh!¡±

    This time, as he rolled through the pavement on the street, he could not hold back a pitiful, painful grunt. Burned, cut, bruised¡­ no, he still could not stop. This was nothing more than a distraction, a bother for the Unmasked.

    Edmond had to keep running, and so he did. Rising to his feet while constantly battling his need for rest, he promptly began running down the street. If he did not slow down, he might find a place to hide, or at least a chance to gather his thoughts.

    And yet the moment he looked up, for little reason than just to see his path a bit better, all such hopes disappeared.

    Edmond saw it for only an instant. The beast-like silhouette at the top corner of a low building, with the same intensity as if it had been a skyscraper. Backlit by the beautiful half-moon, it was almost like artwork from a legendary painter. But before even a second passed, the figure disappeared.

    It was only by reflex that Edmond stopped running, and it might have been his very exhaustion that made such a reflex act up. That small slip-up was what probably saved his life.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The pavement exploded in front of Edmond, only leaving behind a crater of indeterminate size, obscured by the resulting cloud of dust. But the man behind the dust, rising from his strike, was too much to be concealed in such a manner.

    An overwhelming premonition of death, exceeding either that from the golden-eyed Fei or the remorseless killer Phantom severalfold, filled every corner of Edmond¡¯s mind and heart.

    It was like seeing a monster dressed for the cold. Over two meters tall, with the build of a beast and black hair that was almost like a lion¡¯s mane. From the elbow down, his right arm had turned into a skeletal, gargantuan claw of crystalline purple, that which had been driven into the street just a moment ago and led the formation of that crater.

    ¡°A debt is always repaid. Remember this, even if today is the end.¡±

    Hellbound.

    The name simply came to Edmond¡¯s mind, without any complex thought.

    And it was in the same instinctual manner that he knew trying to get past this man, let alone fighting back, was futile.

    The only action Edmond could attempt with any amount of strength was running. Turning around and darting away from the human-shaped beast.

    He came into view of the thick, black fog just outside the building he had escaped from, steadily receding within the increasingly more visible Miasma. Phantom and Wildcard stood by each side of him.

    Did the fog protect them? Please, just leave me alone already!

    Edmond let out a roar of both frustration and misery, extending his hand toward the three Unmasked in a desperate attempt to clear the path.

    A spell much more powerful than before, a fast magic bullet carrying considerable heat and density made contact with the black fog, but failed to make it through to Miasma or anyone else. Weakening and shriveling on its path, it was almost like the black fog was devouring it bit by bit.

    At the same time, Phantom threw the hook on his hand toward Edmond, revealing its handle¡¯s connection to some sort of long, thick wire wrapped around his arm, right beneath the sleeve.

    Edmond stepped aside first, before jumping in the opposite direction. But despite the layered attempt to throw off Phantom¡¯s aim while also dodging, the Unmasked¡¯s mastery with the unorthodox weapon was obvious, expertly pulling and moving his arm so that the hook would twist and aim back at the airborne Edmond.

    And when forced to block, trying what he could with the armor at his forearm, the hook became hardly visible for an instant, then went right through his suit like a mirage.

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    There was no time to ponder anything about the unexpected extent of Phantom¡¯s ability. Before Edmond could form a coherent thought, the excruciating feeling of the hook solidifying and pulling from within his arm took over the entirety of his mind, forcing hot tears out of his eyes.

    Dragged through the air like bait on a fishing line, he hit a wall of the building he had left before without any chance to resist. It was hardly surprising that another one of Wildcard¡¯s traps was triggered by the impact, attacking Edmond¡¯s body with blistering heat and shrapnel. He could not even afford to see just what it was before he was pulled again, in the opposite direction.

    He could not hit another trap like that. He could not allow Phantom to do so. If that happened, then there truly were no guarantees.

    Every drop of concentration he could muster had to go into this spell. He had to pull it off, if not¡­

    ¡­ Edmond shook off any and all unnecessary thoughts as he gathered as much prana as he could, ignoring his body¡¯s wails. As much heat as possible, the best density he could achieve, all gathered along a sharp edge.

    Swinging his arm at the wire with all his available strength, Edmond¡¯s blade spell managed to slice it away, freeing him from Phantom¡¯s tether even if the hook remained inside his mangled arm. Still in free fall, that was incomparably better than whatever awaited him before.

    Or so he thought, before his blurry vision settled upon the approaching Hellbound. The violet claw shone under the moon, like a crystalline bone. Approaching Edmond¡¯s chest, its speed was such that even if he were not immobile¡ª

    His thought did not finish.

    By the time he found his mind functioning with some degree of normalcy again, he wondered if he had lost consciousness for that brief moment the ache had not reached him. After all, he could not even remember how he had reached the long end of the street.

    Edmond laid on his side, unable to even lift a finger. It was not just a matter of pain or exhaustion, things had reached a point where his mind seemed unable to communicate with his body at all, almost failing to notice the blood dripping down his head. All he could do was watch and barely hear as the four silhouettes, registering as little more than shadows, approached him from the other end.

    He could not do anything. This would be it.

    Claude would blame himself for it, when it was Edmond who lied to him. Max would cry, and maybe do the same as Isolde on that snowy day. Isolde herself might turn out even worse, while his last conversation with Hilda would be that stupid mistake of his at the restaurant. And Mom¡­ Mom would¡­

    Darkness swelled around Edmond¡¯s mind and sight, as if encroaching on a weakening fire. He tried to use the concern and regret to force his body to move again, but only his fear grew as the pain failed to reach more and more of his body.

    But then, at what seemed like his very last moment¡­

    ¡­ Only one color for everything. Silver.

    It looked like a lance, falling from above onto the street, between Edmond and the four shadows. Compared to Hellbound¡¯s descent, it was unassuming and simplistic.

    But the silver light, the silver flames that spread wildly from it warded off three of the shadows with peerless might. Edmond may have heard a painful scream, and even the fourth shadow found it difficult to approach, forced to take a step back.

    The last thing Edmond saw as the dark receded within the overpowering need for rest, was a vivid brown ponytail, fluttering in the almost wintery wind that had now turned warm.

    <hr>

    After two hours of no significant progress, Ingrid Bach finally made the decision to close the document she had been working on, leaving the purchase letter unfinished for now. She could end up regretting it, without that much time left for the deal to go down, but it was doubtful she would manage to do any good work tonight.

    Distractions were no excuse, as her children had all gone to bed over an hour ago. And while she had yet to receive some important resources, she still had enough to write much of the letter.

    Ingrid was simply in an awkward sort of mood, as it may happen to anyone from time to time. And she had learned of the dangers of forcing things without settling that problem beforehand.

    Pulling back a few strands of her black hair, uncontained by the loose bun that gathered most of it, she got out of bed and her room, heading downstairs in slippers. Not wanting to overthink what she should be doing, a drink would likely help her relax and sleep later on.

    ¡°¡­?¡±

    Ingrid was mildly surprised at the presence of someone else, once she arrived on the ground floor.

    Laying back on the couch, loose t-shirt and knee-length shorts wrinkled from whatever time she had spent in bed, Hildegard noticed her arrival soon after.

    ¡°I thought you were in your room at least. Getting water?¡± Ingrid was the first to speak, with a voice that seemed to smile as much as her face did.

    Hildegard sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead.

    ¡°A phone call. Groupmate has no sense of time and I just had to pace around.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like something major came up. Or are you just popular~?¡±

    Hildegard chuckled at Ingrid¡¯s frivolous inquiry. At least her mood seemed to improve just a bit.

    ¡°What about you, then? Need a snack to make it through that job?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with it tomorrow, I¡¯m so over it now. I was getting¡­ Hm, how about you join me, actually? You¡¯re already way past fifteen.¡±

    Ingrid saw Hildegard¡¯s eyebrow raise slightly as she turned and approached the kitchen, where the cooler laid.

    ¡°Join you for what?¡±

    ¡°A glass or two, of course. I like the strong ones, so tell me if you¡¯re not feeling it.¡± She said while settling on a particular bottle.

    Hildegard took a few seconds to reply, showing an awkwardness rather unusual to her. Still, her eventual response was tinged with a sort of excitement that felt so sweet.

    ¡°Sure, sure! I¡¯d love to.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad.¡±

    Ingrid smiled again. Sharing a drink with Hildegard for the first time, she eagerly took out a bottle of particularly rich wine, the sort that would generally be saved for festivities.

    It was not long before she was sitting next to her on the couch, pouring two glasses to just over the halfway point.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot.¡±

    ¡°Lightweight?¡±

    ¡°Of course not!¡±

    Perhaps a bit frustratingly, Hildegard¡¯s childish offense did little else but further amuse Ingrid.

    ¡°It¡¯s our first shared drink, I wouldn¡¯t be stingy with you of all people. Cheers.¡±

    The blonde¡¯s eyes narrowed as she looked at the glass of wine brought up to her, lips pursed in just the slightest inkling of a pout. It did not last long, however, before she promptly raised her own glass for a satisfying clink.

    While Ingrid was a little more controlled than Hildegard, neither of the two stopped at small gulps. The drink was certainly delicious, but beyond that, it felt necessary.

    ¡°To what, though?¡± The teenager asked before her second sip, delaying her drinking just a tad.

    ¡°Hm, to our reunion, for one, would be obvious. Isolde got another scholarship offer, so that could be another. Even you and Edmond making it to another year¡­¡±

    Ingrid drank again, and then remained silent. Nothing had interrupted her, but she still would not speak more. On the other side of the conversation, she knew not getting a reply from Hildegard was answer enough for how she felt.

    She glanced to the side, as if to check on how much of her glass remained despite the little time since serving. Meanwhile, Hildegard tapped her slipper-covered foot incessantly, even if not quickly or strongly. Maroon eyes closed temporarily as she sighed, lips tight in a likely bite at their inner area.

    She drank more wine, and Ingrid followed suit. Regardless of how much time actually passed, slipping past drunken awareness after their first glasses had emptied, soon enough the third one was halfway done for Hildegard as Ingrid started on her fourth.

    They had done more than just take tasty sips in the meantime, with Hildegard returning to her phone often while Ingrid shuffled across songs on her own, a single earphone placed on her left ear. Nonetheless, Hildegard¡¯s abrupt words did startle her somewhat.

    ¡°Is that really something you want to toast for?¡± Her skin was slightly flushed, and her voice quite languid. Still, both it and her eyes harbored obvious dissatisfaction. ¡°Another year of Edmond and me working on this? Since when is it something you¡¯d be happy about?¡±

    Ingrid was impassive, unresponsive to Hildegard¡¯s accusative tone. Increasingly frustrated, the girl drank a big gulp as if to calm herself down with the burn of the alcohol.

    It hardly worked.

    ¡°He¡¯s not here, even when we¡¯re finally all together after years. If that¡¯s how it is, just how little have you seen him ever since? Less than five times? Not even once a year, maybe?¡±

    ¡°Hildegard¡­¡±

    ¡°To not even tell me this is how things were¡­ I became a knight too, I¡¯m aware, but you and I know it¡¯s not nearly the same!¡±

    Her lips did not even twitch, no attempt to open them being made. How could she even respond? Hildegard was not incorrect. While she had made her desire to join the Knight Corps known years ago, that was that. An interest she did not press for any more than a single mention at the dinner table.

    While she had both justified and regretted her moment of weakness countless times, it was Ingrid who resumed talks on the topic, and encouraged Hildegard to do as she pleased. Considering the more sensible path she had taken, let alone her attentiveness afterward, it was no surprise she was this upset with Edmond.

    It happened one year before Hildegard herself applied to become a cadet. A day Ingrid could still recall so vividly it might as well replay in her mind.

    Edmond¡¯s anxiety and moist eyes after coming back home from an outing, the nonstop trembling in his hands, and in his voice every time he was made to speak up. Isolde¡¯s frustration, Hildegard¡¯s confusion, and her own fears. What if he was being bullied? Maybe he was hiding a bad injury? Perhaps he had witnessed some terrible crime¡­

    Ingrid never predicted the arrival of several police officers, led by a recruiter from the Alpheratz Knight Corps.

    Sorcery was dangerous. More than that, it was frightening. The ability of just a few people to change the landscape of the world everyone lived in, both figuratively and literally. Even low-ranking knights were able to overtake bullets and break through a car, depriving most non-powered folks of any direct ability to resist them. If one were to look at the Generals, they could hardly be considered people at all, with only whole governments and military companies being able to handle them.

    Naturally, any knowledge or materials needed to acquire sorcery and similar abilities were under the strictest of control, which was also to be applied to people who were already capable of performing such phenomena. Any person who could transform prana, no matter how low their ability might be, was to either be brought into a proper military body, or become part of a linked research organization.

    Realization hit Ingrid like a sudden, freezing downpour. Edmond was the first to ask for permission to join the Knight Corps, and Ingrid had firmly rejected the idea every time. The pursuit of a duty filled with danger far beyond the human. What kind of mother would support that?

    Even so, she was outdone. Edmond found a way to join that she could do nothing to oppose. The modest spellcasting ability he had learned from that teacher of his, even that was enough for the relevant authorities to draft him, lest he become a recorded criminal.

    Even today, Ingrid wondered if it all might have been avoided, had she not been so steadfast in her rejection of the boy¡¯s aspirations. But she could do nothing to change her past actions, just as she could do nothing to take Edmond back from a life so different to her own.

    As for how things had been since that day, Hildegard¡¯s accusations were by all means justified. However, when it came to Ingrid¡¯s own feelings¡­

    ¡°Hildegard, how much do you know about Theo?¡±

    ¡°¡­ What Mondi and Isolde have told me.¡±

    The implication was hardly hidden. There was no way she would go out of her way to ask them about that topic.

    Now halfway through her fourth glass of wine, Ingrid¡¯s eyes wistfully moved away from Hildegard as she leaned back on the couch, lips gradually forming a small smile.

    ¡°My husband was¡­ a frustrating person at times. I can honestly count on one hand the number of times I saw him stressed at all, and with fingers to spare. Were it not for those, I¡¯d say he was just born without the gene, or something. Just an annoyingly relaxed man, yet so good with words he hardly got grief for it, unless it was from me.¡±

    The dry sound of glass on varnished wood echoed softly, and Ingrid pulled her hand back from the glass. It felt pleasantly cold on her cheek as she focused her gaze on the drink, the few red speckles from the light¡¯s shine on it being oddly mesmerizing. In contrast, Hildegard¡¯s glass beside it was all but empty.

    ¡°¡­ Did Mondi hit his head, or something?¡±

    Ingrid¡¯s subsequent laugh was brazen, yet oddly youthful.

    ¡°Right, right. I know, doesn¡¯t sound like him at all. Not even Isolde. Sometimes Max seems to be the one to resemble him, but he¡¯s still little enough it might just be wishful thinking.¡±

    ¡°So Mondi is more like¡­¡±

    The raven-haired woman glanced back at Hildegard again, an amused glint at the corner of her gray irises.

    ¡°It could also be he ended up being his own thing, but you¡¯re probably right. Stubborn, self-conscious Ingrid¡­ Edmond really didn¡¯t have any luck there.¡±

    There was no shortage of times in which she detested her own strong memory. Let alone saying it out loud, every time Ingrid thought of what her children ended up inheriting from her was accompanied by visceral discomfort. Mistakes at work from taking on excessive overtime, outings spoiled over being the one who paid less, even dinner could be awkward if she felt like a single element was out of place or subpar.

    Bearable when Theodor was still with them, now it was overwhelming. And the more such things happened, the more she ended up thinking about it, making the lump in her chest utterly insufferable.

    ¡°And what is that to all this?¡±

    Ingrid could not have felt more thankful to the oblivious Hildegard, as she snapped her out of some very frustrating thoughts. She sighed, reaching for her glass once more before taking a gulp, rather than a sip.

    ¡°Theo was lucky enough to make enough money from his passion, and he certainly loved writing a lot. But of course, this being the world that it is, such a line of work carries its fair share of problems.¡±

    Despite her aggressive drinking, the tasty liquor would not smother the growing regret within Ingrid.

    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t really know if that was all there was to it. Maybe something happened at school, or perhaps it was just the wrong talk at the wrong time, but one day, Edmond¡­¡±

    One second, two seconds¡­ five seconds. Ingrid remained quiet, unable to find the proper words. No matter what she chose, it would make things sound exaggerated¡­ or undercut. But with Hildegard¡¯s growing, confused attention on her, she had to continue.

    ¡°¡®Get a job that pays¡¯, he said.¡±

    The blonde¡¯s eyes went wide for a moment, enough so that it would be noticeable even if she were not drinking. Ingrid¡¯s heart was hit from both sides by pangs of regret and duty, the latter continuing to win just slightly.

    ¡°Theo was hardly the type to mind slights at his lifestyle, much less without pressing matters to consider, but he loved our children very much. A few weeks later, he was already hopping on planes left and right to find something else he could work on, should time allow. One month later¡­ he was in the hospital.¡±

    She refused to look at Hildegard after saying this. Such cowardice may have stung more than the girl¡¯s expression would, but Ingrid could not find it in her to take that chance.

    ¡°Some random accident, perhaps from the snowstorms in season. No negligent pilot or maintenance to blame, no disrespected protocol¡­ it felt like fate, for all the wrong reasons. He lasted a week, with Edmond and Max being the last to see him.¡±

    Ingrid did not notice when her drink lost most of its flavor, much less its decreasing amount until her inability to sip further brought it to attention. Her chest felt tight, her breathing laborious despite her apparent calm.

    She still did not let go of the glass, her fingers holding it so tightly she would not have been surprised if it shattered. However, Ingrid did not pour herself any more wine.

    ¡°People are complex, layered and mysterious. Even idiots are no exception to this, so there isn¡¯t anyone that¡¯s defined by just a couple of events, let alone one. Still, you probably understand a bit too, from four years ago. If he has¡­ if he wants to settle this selfish ¡®responsibility¡¯, I¡¯d rather allow him that freedom for now.¡±

    Hildegard looked down, her own glass as empty as Ingrid¡¯s, and placed it upon the table. Her expression was tired, but more frustrated than drowsy. Large, reddish-brown eyes remained focused, however, as her gaze traveled back to Ingrid.

    ¡°So that¡¯s what you¡¯d want. Rather, what you wanted.¡±

    Ingrid¡¯s lips softly curved once more. No surprise was present, but her girl¡¯s sharpness was still so pleasant to see.

    ¡°Now a lot more of the whole ¡®Miss Lunaris¡¯ deal starts to make sense¡­¡±

    ¡°Is that so? I never took you to be curious about it.¡±

    Hildegard¡¯s expression relaxed, giving way to a chuckle before long. Likely assuming from the time passed that no more wine would be had, she picked up both glasses in one hand, and the now closed bottle in another. Her movements, instead of her speech, made the weight of her drink much more apparent, but they were competent enough as she stored the bottle in the cooler, and then brought the glasses to the sink.

    Water ran.

    ¡°You really don¡¯t have to¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just two glasses, Ingrid. Just go to bed, you probably want it as bad as I do by now.¡±

    She was not wrong.

    Ingrid could hold her alcohol, but anyone would find it agonizing to remain awake after such a bold drinking hour. Fittingly, she also lacked the energy to argue back.

    Her gaze regretful, her body heavy and sluggish, she stood up, walking toward the stairs.

    ¡°Love you, dear.¡±

    ¡°Same here. Thank you for¡­ well, tonight was special.¡±

    The slight awkwardness in her smirk, contrasting her usual poise, reminded Ingrid of how much she had missed living alongside this girl.

    Still, even after she walked up the stairs, opened her room¡¯s door, and got everything ready before surrendering to her bed, she could not share that painfully honest smile.

    As much as she had tried, no matter the angle she approached from, despite so much patience and attention; nothing worked. That which she believed to see so clearly in Edmond¡¯s struggle, still eluded her in Hildegard.

 I-7: Black and Blue

    Even as Edmond¡¯s consciousness slipped into the void, there was one memory he continued to cling to. Was it due to tenacity? Or something closer to an obsession? Whatever it was, it produced a picture with detail that had yet to age at all.

    One of a freezing, cruel field.

    A month had passed since he had unfairly lashed out at his father. Five days since the accident that left the man broken and burnt, stuck to whatever the hospital managed to put up for him. Maybe an hour since Isolde ran away from the house.

    I can¡¯t hear my voice.

    While he had never really understood his father¡¯s novels, the inspiration behind them was always something they could connect over. Golden Earl Rigel, Knight-King Arstor, Nemesis the Vagrant, and so many more. Real or myth, superheroes who would fight off the monster that was ¡®helplessness¡¯.

    Even now, he was confused and frustrated at how he handled that day. The taunting at school, every year from the day when the teacher asked about the students¡¯ future ambitions, had always felt bearable enough. But maybe, eluding his knowledge or perhaps willfully ignored, it instead had piled on bit by bit.

    My throat is crumbling.

    Isolde had not said anything, but the eyes with which she looked at him since news of the plane accident reached them were obvious enough. She remembered, and focused more than anyone on what had gotten her father in such a position.

    Edmond did not know when or why exactly she ran out. Maybe she was trying some nonsense method to help her dad, found on a random shady website. Or perhaps she simply could not stomach being in the same house as her older brother. No matter the case, she was out, while Mom was stuck at the hospital with Max.

    He called for help, of course, but a police search in this snowstorm? It would take too long. Despite not much time having actually passed, even a second of not knowing where his sister was¡­ how she was, was one second too many. A feeling that tore everything from the inside out.

    I can¡¯t feel my hands.

    The vast white hell felt as if it was slicing him into pieces from the moment he stepped out, but he braved onward without hesitation. Every step was grueling, and he found it almost impossible to keep his eyes open for even a few seconds. Still, all this paled in comparison to what consumed Edmond¡¯s mind.

    He had yet to see a single other person. Someone who could assist him, someone who might have seen the girl if only for a split second, or maybe just someone who could provide a sliver of sympathy. The blizzard that kept everyone indoors and did away with most vehicle traffic, was the one Isolde had been surrounded by for who knows how long.

    When Edmond found his sister, hardly anyone would disagree with calling it a miracle. And yet, even so, for just a moment¡­ he wished he had not.

    Isolde is not moving.

    He approached the downed girl, muscles burning, and picked her up in his arms.

    Isolde is not moving.

    He hugged her as tightly as his weak body would allow, covering all he could to futilely shield her from further cold. Edmond screamed with a throat that felt like snapping every time, and yet his voiced failed to reach even him.

    Isolde is not moving.

    His feet lost their footing, as he screamed again. He found it impossible to lift the girl again.

    Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. No warmth at all. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Police, police. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. They¡¯re taking too long. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. I can¡¯t remember the way back. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. I¡¯m so sorry. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. I don¡¯t know what to do. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving¡­!

    Someone please help her.

    At some point, Edmond became unable to make out much detail. But against the pure white background, such a shadow would never go unnoticed.

    ¡°How long have you been calling out? And in this cold¡­¡±

    When his own screams would not reach anywhere near him, this person¡¯s words were somehow so very clear. And with each of them, it felt like all the heat he needed returned, slowly but surely.

    He looked up with a neck that seemed to creak on every slight move. He saw her bandaged right eye, long hair that looked like she had just gotten out of bed.

    ¡°Such tenacity. You just saved both of you, mister badass.¡±

    As she carried the siblings in her arms, allowing Edmond to see her dark and unfashionable clothes, all he could think about was the woman¡¯s cluelessness. His inability to express it out loud was nothing short of frustrating.

    ¡°Be proud, and leave the rest to me.¡±

    Her violet left eye narrowed, accompanied by a smile he would remember until his very end.

    That day, in the middle of the blizzard, Edmond caught a glimpse of the scariest feeling of all.

    And right after, he learned of something with even more value.

    Rescued by a woman like no other, he met a real superhero.

    <hr>

    When Edmond woke up, he did not feel rested at all. After all, it may have been sheer discomfort and pain that brought him back to consciousness, after whatever coping mechanisms his body mustered had relaxed.

    Even reflexive movements caused his throat to strain with the inklings of a wail, so he briefly settled for just opening his eyes. Luckily, not many lights were on, allowing him to see more or less properly within a few seconds.

    The initial sight was confusing by itself, but as he looked around more, as much as his aching neck would allow, he realized he was not in his apartment. Edmond pushed at the cushion under him with his left arm in order to see more.

    The place was significantly larger than his own, painted in a rich blue color with hazy, abstract patterns flowing seamlessly across several of the walls. The floor was carpeted, with not only pieces of apparel sprawled on it, but also empty grocery bags. The contrast between the d¨¦cor, even the sofa bed he laid upon, and the apparent indifference of whatever slob lived in such a place was striking. Still, that was definitely the least of Edmond¡¯s concerns.

    Not only was this not his apartment, but it was also one he had never seen before.

    But before he could force his pained body to do anything about it, or even fully panic, his attention was drawn to a sudden, clear noise. His eyes traveled from the entrance, over the relatively small table adjacent to the kitchen, and settled on the just opened door on the other side¡¯s corridor.

    Seeing the girl walk out helped him relax, while tensing back up in a different way.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d take maybe an hour more or so to wake up. Nothing wrong with that if you¡¯d rather.¡± Tatyana¡¯s flowing brown ponytail rushed the memories of recent events back into his psyche, even if her loose t-shirt and shorts were lighter than what she wore back then, and any other time he had seen her.

    ¡°You patched me up?¡± Edmond replied quickly, deciding against some sarcastic reference to his discomfort¡¯s incompatibility with any long rest.

    The girl¡¯s expression twitched somewhat as she approached, carrying three small bags in her hands.

    ¡°Overstatement. I tried to disinfect the worst of it and prevent excess bleeding where I could, but I needed more things. Besides, that arm¡­¡±

    Edmond¡¯s eyes blinked, then opened wide on what she said last. He turned fast enough for another burst of pain to spread through him, but that was far from his priority. He looked at his right forearm, laying across his lower abdomen.

    The mix between blood that had become sticky and that which had not, dyeing the tight and hurried bandages crimson, was still far from the focus of attention. Instead, it all laid upon the relatively thick, cut off cord sticking out¡­ or rather, on the thicker metal hook it was connected to, still embedded deep within.

    Edmond¡¯s heartbeat rushed, followed by his breathing. His mind chilled as he wondered just how he had even missed it before, or if he had just actively ignored it for as long as he possibly could.

    When Tatyana knelt at his side, before the sofa bed, the instinctive expression with which he turned was more than a little regrettable. Her own look widening briefly, she glanced aside right after in what seemed to be slight remorse.

    ¡°I wanted to treat that right away, but it would have been bad to take it out without the necessary supplies on hand. Now you¡¯re awake and¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ Just do it.¡±

    The girl turned back, now more in apparent doubt than shame, as if looking for confirmation that Edmond had really said that. Quite understandable, so he was ready to follow up.

    ¡°I¡¯d much rather you get it over with than stay like this, I mean it.¡±

    I might throw up if I look at it carelessly again¡­

    Doing his best to keep his eyes away from the mangled arm, Edmond shifted slightly to make Tatyana¡¯s task easier. His earlier aches were significant, but the pain of finally moving his right arm almost made Edmond¡¯s mind blank out.

    Losing a balance on the sofa bed that should normally be effortless, only Tatyana¡¯s quick action prevented him from falling flat on the floor. Unfortunately, even her hands as they caught him and laid him down properly made more pain pulsate throughout his body.

    ¡°With you like this, you¡¯ll surely regret it when I get to work.¡±

    ¡°Then you can get me something to bite on or whatever. Please¡­¡±

    Tatyana frowned with a mix of annoyance and unease, silent for several seconds until acknowledging no further replies from Edmond. She sighed, a hand brought to her forehead which then brushed some brown locks back. Attentively looking over the forearm covered in crusted bandages, she used a small bottle to disinfect her hands and disposable gloves alike, before putting them on.

    This was not the first time he had been injured, so the slow and delicate peeling of bandages in the way was bearable. His suit was still on his body, despite being even more mangled than usual, and much of the wound remained beyond view. It had also soaked up a fair amount of blood before the bandages had been applied, so what was visible aside from the hook was hardly more than an indistinct mess of gray and red.

    Edmond shivered slightly as Tatyana started touching the gash, trying her best to be gentle but needing to orient herself properly around the hook. It was still not something he would raise his voice about, and the stronger reaction came from Tatyana instead, who stopped her hands as if they had frozen and looked up at him with serious, yet somewhat frantic eyes.

    Edmond himself was startled by her unusual display, enough to be briefly distracted from the issue at hand. After not receiving the type of response she may have expected, Tatyana¡¯s eyes wandered awkwardly before focusing once more.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ doing it.¡± She warned.

    A full second needed for Edmond to properly register what was about to happen, he blinked and sighed, then sighed again. That second deep breath was the most he would allow of himself, remaining as still as he could right after both to communicate his ¡®approval¡¯ to Tatyana, and to brace himself.

    One of her hands holding onto what remained exposed of the hook, the other reached for the more difficult section with noticeable tact. Still, when the time came to actually move it, such care amounted to quite little.

    A unique, visceral discomfort radiating from his forearm, Edmond reflexively shut his eyes and gritted his teeth until his jaw ached, with the sound accompanying such a feeling almost causing him to panic on its own. Cold sweat trailed down his forehead and temple, as if suffering from a terrible fever, but he managed to not shiver as he tightened his left hand into a throbbing fist and audibly breathed out.

    After perhaps five seconds that he could barely ascertain, a quiet, wet sound that was slightly different barely reached him, followed by the noise of metal weighing several hundred grams dropping on the carpeted floor. The delayed relief from hearing such was enough for him to mostly ignore the sting of disinfectant spray on his open wound.

    ¡°Shit¡­¡± Tatyana muttered to an inattentive Edmond, who could not know if it was from the carpet being soiled or from fully witnessing the gash¡¯s extent.

    He opened his eyes again, blinking away a few more tears as he redirected his attention. Significant bleeding resumed as soon as the hook was taken out, but it slowed down and receded rather quickly when the tar-like medical gel was applied by the girl¡¯s fingers. As more seconds passed, the opaque substance lost more and more of its integrity, as if melding with the tissue. It usually disappeared completely within a few minutes and the effects were the real deal, not only serving as a coagulant but also accelerating healing. However¡­

    It¡¯s like sludge.

    ¡­ looking at it still made him squeamish. It was quite the difficult thing to get used to.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s out of the way. So, how does this whole costume deal work?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Costume?¡±

    ¡°Suit, outfit. Whatever you want to call it, does it have a zipper or a buckle? We need to check for injuries under it and¡­¡±

    Edmond barely heard Tatyana¡¯s explanation. Instead, the attention that had been fully occupied by his discomfort and mangled arm abruptly switched to his attire. His arm, which should have been covered in the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt, had only been wrapped by his suit and bandages, the latter of which were now removed.

    With the area around his head feeling slightly different than it should, Edmond brought his good hand to it and touched hair dirtied by dry sweat and blood. His suspicions became panicked realization, noticing that he was not wearing the hooded sweatshirt that helped hide his identity.

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    He gasped and pulled back, helped by the medical gel somewhat numbing the injury in his arm. Breathing quickly, he only failed to berate himself due to hurried attempts to think of some solution. When he looked at Tatyana, she showed confusion for only an instant before looking at him in troubled understanding, hands still wearing soiled gloves raised to indicate no dangerous intentions.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Look, I know what you¡¯re thinking, just hear me out for a minute. What remained of your hoodie fell out as I carried you here, not worth to go and pick up when being pursued and¡­ well, whatever. Your mask¡¯s still in pretty good shape, but¡­¡±

    If the realization of his missing sweater caused Edmond¡¯s heart to race painfully, that simple ¡®but¡¯ instead made it sink into a void.

    ¡°¡­ But you already know it¡¯s me.¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s eyes darted away briefly after his response, tongue poking inside her cheek as she nodded reluctantly.

    He remained still for several seconds, fully attentive to the gesture so as to fully confirm its meaning. It would have been best for her to deny it, but he would have been satisfied with uncertainty as well. Neither one was found.

    Edmond brought his left hand to his face, awkwardly reaching for the exposed area on the upper right in a frustrated display, slumping as if a weight had been lifted off him. Only the conveyed feeling was resignation, rather than any sort of relief.

    ¡°Since when?¡±

    ¡°Today.¡±

    ¡°¡­ What?¡±

    His voice cracked for an instant, but he did not care. Caught completely off-guard, he could do little more than blink and lightly turn his head, wanting to ask more questions yet unable to properly formulate them.

    He was even more confused when he saw Tatyana¡¯s turquoise eyes narrow in irritation.

    ¡°You really think last night would have happened if I knew then?¡±

    ¡°You mean our¡­ err, fight?¡±

    Her expression twisted immediately as he finished his question, a severe mix of problematic emotions in a showing that made him instinctively tighten his lips shut. Even then, he did not feel fully safe.

    Tatyana groaned in annoyance, forcing herself to look back at Edmond when she was so close to glancing away again. The consequence was a look very similar to a glare as she spoke again, uncontested by the nervous boy.

    <hr>

    Tatyana had spent enough time at the police station to think the sun may already be rising when she was let out. Though that was not the case, almost five hours was still a frustrating and embarrassing amount of time to be detained.

    ¡°Not like I want to make your night even worse, but this could have easily been avoided.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±

    ¡°Even as a knight cadet, jumping right into a crime scene¡­¡±

    Martha¡¯s officer partner may as well have spoken underwater, and Tatyana would have paid him about the same amount of attention. Even as handcuffs were unlocked from her wrists, allowing her regulators to finally ¡®breathe¡¯ again, the bulk of her attention was on the sidewalk.

    Around four meters away was a smallish coupe, painted in a lustrous black and still clearly on, lights obvious. Leaning back into the trunk was Klo, dressed in an uncharacteristically casual manner and glaring in an even more unusual way.

    Tatyana greeted her with a scowl of her own, one that had been mostly present since much longer ago.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re free to go.¡±

    ¡°Of course I am.¡± She bit back at the officer and walked toward the elf, not even sparing him a glance.

    Klo spoke with her frown almost static.

    ¡°You know I work till late. I got maybe two hours of shuteye, and only two more will be left when we get home.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so you got to sleep. Fucking fantastic.¡± Acid words came without hesitation as Tatyana tried to open the door to the shotgun seat. Emphasis on ¡®tried¡¯. ¡°This fucking¡­ look, you do this all the time. Why do I have to tell you to unlock!?¡±

    Klo did not reply immediately, busy chuckling over the small gaffe. Hand in one of her pockets, she quickly pressed on the unseen key fob, letting Tatyana in and following soon after at the driver¡¯s seat.

    ¡°Just drive¡­¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine. I might¡¯ve been pissed but it¡¯s not worth making your night worse than¡­ whatever this is.¡± Beyond that brief laugh, Tatyana¡¯s awkward misstep had brought Klo back to a much more common demeanor. ¡°I¡¯m sure they could¡¯ve gave you a ride home, though.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to spend a single second more than necessary with those fucks.¡±

    Not that the brunette was paying enough attention for it to matter. She looked out the window, the landscape of deep night Seyfelt blurring even before the car began moving. Her mind was not an exhausted mush yet, but her arrest had been tedious, boring and worrying, mixed in the worst possible way. Question after question, each feeling less relevant than the last, with sessions separated by nonsensically long waits.

    ¡°What even happened? Want to share or do I have to insist?¡±

    Frankly, recalling the events just a tad before was preferable¡­ just slightly. In some ways.

    ¡°Some gang was fucking around at Epsilon Five. Violet Thorn.¡±

    ¡°Wait, seriously?¡±

    Klo took her eyes off the road, worry obvious in her gaze. The streets on the way were mostly alone for the moment, but a side-glancing Tatyana still responded with a finger gesture to get her friend to look back forward. She complied, but one of her eyes narrowed in slight annoyance. Tatyana continued without minding it.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, the Thorns are not the issue. I arrived when the whole thing was pretty much over and attacked the one guy standing there with a weapon. But¡­ like¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ Wrong thug?¡±

    Tatyana shook her head, flexing a few fingers until it was slightly painful.

    ¡°Not even a thug, they were some vigilante of all things. The cops wouldn¡¯t tell me much, but it seems like he¡¯s been at it for months.¡±

    ¡°What about the ¡®attack¡¯, then? How bad was it?¡±

    She felt a snap-like feeling running up to her knuckle, like she had pulled some muscle when carelessly moving her fingers. She remembered the panicked voice, the unmistakable feeling of her spell piercing through noticeable resistance, as well as the crimson fluid that gradually stained their dark clothes. So vivid were those images that she found more detail in them than in the black city before her eyes.

    ¡°¡­ I fucking stabbed them, Klo.¡± Tatyana replied, plagued by frustration, anger, shame, worry. Even identifying the emotions she felt was a pain in itself.

    Fed up with the hardly changing urban scenery, she slumped back into her seat, a hand pressed to her forehead. She glanced at Klo, whose expression had changed into one of troubled understanding.

    ¡°I mean¡­ yeah. No wonder the officers thought the worst¡­¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t know I did anything to him; he ran off before they saw anything. But that meant I was left alone, in the middle of all the beat-up Thorns. I was fucked either way.¡±

    Tatyana sighed as she remembered the officers¡¯ incredulous looks, a refusal to hear her out or answer anything until getting to the station, and even then just having her interrogated by different people, each of which needed to hear the whole story first. Absolutely infuriating nonsense, and yet the only distraction from just waiting in sheer boredom for hours on end.

    ¡°¡­ So it was only this person and the Thorns? Were they the one who called the police?¡±

    Having to repeat the same story to Klo naturally kept the annoying memories fresh in her mind, but not being cuffed and knowing she was increasingly closer to their apartment helped her relax a tad. Her friend¡¯s voice and knowingly tactful approach did not hurt either¡­ but she did not need to know that.

    ¡°I guess so. Maybe they wanted back up, or to pull out and leave it to someone else. One of the Thorns they took out seemed like some big shot, Unmasked and all. The cops made a huge fuss about her.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. I mean¡­ wait. That¡¯s¡­¡±

    It did not take long for Tatyana to notice something odd, promptly turning to her friend in confusion.

    Klo¡¯s speech was unusual, cut off as if many ideas were competing for priority in her mind. Attention from the already jumpy Tatyana was immediately hogged, and the elf became visibly nervous.

    ¡°I just¡­ I don¡¯t know. Ignore me and¡ª¡±

    ¡°I want to hear.¡±

    Klo opened her mouth reflexively as she briefly looked back at Tatyana, but stopped before saying anything. Instead, she sank into her thought for several seconds, and after an awkward breath, she continued.

    ¡°If these gangsters are anything like the Shadow Spot, then they¡¯ll want revenge.¡±

    Her turquoise eyes widened slightly, without blinking for quite a bit. Tatyana ran many possibilities through her mind, attempting to find a balance between speed and proper reasoning.

    She was not particularly interested in the people that comprised the criminal underworld of Seyfelt, but it being as pervasive as it was, dreadful information still managed to reach her. Particularly as it concerned Last Empire, Shadow Spot and Violet Thorn, the three most prominent gangs in the city, with the best-known practices.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Beyond the revulsion that came from remembering the news, the rumors and even the occasional ¡®accidents¡¯, she strongly recalled her own deed. The grievous injury she inflicted on someone who did not deserve it, the lack of judgment that had led her to make such a decision, their confused and frightened plea¡­

    But most of all, it was not thinking about the vigilante¡¯s impendent danger, but rather what her error could lead to under such circumstances, that caused Tatyana to feel as if her insides had turned into lead. Knowing that even one of their Unmasked was taken down, the Violet Thorn would likely take proper measures.

    If such a thing happened, the young vigilante would be completely helpless. Something utterly inhumane, like in the accounts any Seyfelt inhabitant came to know of before long, would happen to them. They might have had the slightest chance under normal circumstances, but not with that wound from tonight.

    A wound only Tatyana was responsible for.

    ¡°¡­ Damn it. I knew it would turn out like this, and yet I still tell you, fuck¡­¡±

    Klo grumbled, with a look of such guilt and anxiety that it seemed painful, followed by her fingers on the wheel tightening until they trembled. However, Tatyana felt nothing but indignation in response.

    ¡°You really think letting this be is the way to go?¡±

    ¡°Fuck no, but while I don¡¯t know shit about this person, you¡¯re my friend. Want me to just ignore that?¡±

    Turquoise irises locked, or rather clashed with lilac ones, and Tatyana instantly knew any compromise would be too difficult to be worth seeking.

    ¡°Whatever. I appreciate the worry, but I¡¯m not about to let someone get their legs torn off or worse because of something I did. Say what you want, but you can¡¯t stop me.¡±

    The car stopped, shutting off at Klo¡¯s parking spot before Tatyana even noticed how close they were to the apartment building. Not that it was of any significant concern.

    ¡°But Alyssa can.¡±

    Klo¡¯s declaration, however, was. Enough so for Tatyana briefly hesitate in undoing her seatbelt, and in her reply.

    A solid second passed before she clicked her tongue, pressing the belt buckle without holding on to the sash, allowing it to hit just beside the window with a startling noise. Opening the car¡¯s door, Tatyana scowled at Klo with eyes that were almost violent.

    ¡°Then tell whoever you want.¡±

    Tatyana stepped out of the car, leaving a groaning Klo to follow after without any further words.

    Even after changing and laying down in bed for whatever paltry nighttime they still had left, they had not spoken to each other again. Tatyana locking her room¡¯s door as soon as possible probably helped a lot.

    With more time and calm to think things over, the girl realized how inconsequential Klo¡¯s move was. She was already racing against the Violet Thorn; adding her brother¡¯s fianc¨¦e and the man himself to the mix did little to alter her constraints. She certainly would never get past them, but they were out of town for good reasons, which she trusted as being enough to buy her at least a day or two.

    There was a small possibility her assumptions were incorrect, but she could do nothing about it. Snuffing away her remaining thoughts on Klo¡¯s threat, Tatyana began her research.

    Success depended on who could dig up the most relevant and extensive information on the masked stranger more quickly, her or the Violet Thorn. There was no time to rest, regardless of how close the sun was to rising.

    Vigilante justice. Masked criminal. Costumed fighter. Gang conflict. New thug.

    Some people may have considered network browsing to be below acceptable for such an investigation, but Tatyana knew better than to waste the chance for quick and extensive information, even with dubious veracity. Besides, she had met the person in question, which likely would help her identify and discard useless data.

    She expected few usable results from the search, but having little to go on beyond basic descriptors, she was forced to wade through several links with only the most general of information about Seyfelt¡¯s law enforcement and criminal hotshots. It got frustrating, sooner rather than later.

    Tatyana aggressively breathed out her nose. The police¡¯s net site was the most useful, with a barebones criminal profile warning about sorcery capacity and violence, as well as some location logs, but little else. Looking for images had her scrolling down until eight out of ten were completely unrelated to her queries, and the videos were even worse. Things were particularly surprising, and not in a pleasant way, when she did not happen upon a single news article mentioning the vigilante.

    Maybe it¡¯s their first time taking on such big shots? Though it could also be they started more recently than I thought, or the police are keeping the credit. Appearing stronger to the people in this gang-infested city or something¡­

    The modest progress in her research had her pondering such. Dissatisfied, Tatyana altered her query once more.

    Violet Thorn. Scar-Tail.

    The police¡¯s site and news sources were about as expected, things she had mostly checked before, so the girl scrolled more, toward more obscure, people-driven sites. That way, she managed to find a public contribution hub dealing with Seyfelt urban lore, with articles for both things she looked for.

    The information was certainly of a poorer quality than any official site, with the logs indicating only about twelve individual contributions over the last month. The page on the Violet Thorn was surprisingly developed, though she knew a significant amount of the information was likely embellished or fabricated for a variety of reasons. The page on Scar-Tail did have a picture, as would be expected from an Unmasked, but the actual data was only a single paragraph, extended to four lines even while partially squeezed by the infobox. The ¡®stub¡¯ template at the top made Tatyana feel mocked.

    She groaned and almost felt like throwing herself back on her chair, but she endured the urge and continued scrolling down. She stayed still for a moment, enough to blink one time as she looked over a lower quality picture in the site¡¯s ¡®shuffle¡¯. It was also small, owing to being barely more than a thumbnail, but Tatyana decided to click on it nonetheless, leading her to another stub article.

    The picture was slightly larger now, enough for her to more clearly see the similarities in the silhouette, despite the poor lighting conditions. Even with the distance back then, her sorcery-enhanced vision had given a clearer picture, but this was sufficient for the moment.

    She looked at the article¡¯s name right after, and one of her eyes twitched slightly as she held in a reflexive chuckle.

    No fucking way.

    Suppressing her brief, out of place amusement, she checked on the image¡¯s uploader. The highlighted username led her to a user page that indicated mild activity overall, save for one specific discussion thread with over seven contributions to their name.

    The thread, of course, came next on her check list.

    21>felixreduXxX: how r u guys still on about this

    22>LadyVenator99: How havent you found something better to do than bitch here?

    23>The1stspear: I mean, I kind of get their point. Rooting for some merc can have actual consequences.

    24>MyCeliance: HOW MUCH DO WE NEED TO EXPLAIN THAT THE WHOLE MERC THING IS BS!?!?!? LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT GANG HIRING OR LAY OFF THE SITE!!

    25>LadyVenator99: Ignore them, I swear theyre doing it on purpose

    26>felixreduXxX: fucking muppets

    27>LadyVenator99: Can just imagine them crying and dripping shit when they actually get mugged

    28>MyCeliance: LOL the worst part is he would still help them

    29>C A R M I N E: on topic, pls. are we going forward with nemesis or moonlight?

    30>LadyVenator99: Nemesis ofc. Moonlights good but Nemesis was just genius

    31>MyCeliance: <3 thankie thankie

    Tatyana had just read the latest comments on the thread, as much as her screen could fit without scrolling up¡­

    ¡°Pfffftt!!¡±

    ¡­ but that was plenty enough to let loose the laughter she had managed to restrain earlier.

    That¡¯s really the reason~!?

    Nemesis the Vagrant. A folk tale character known for their life of travel without a home, as much as their unkempt looks and untrustworthy airs. Yet without fail, they would come to the rescue of the very people who insulted or neglected them in whatever their struggle might be, only to then vanish and resume their journey before they could even apologize or thank them. The nemesis of hopelessness, nothing more and nothing less.

    Thinking about it dispassionately, the name was quite fitting and Tatyana could commend¡­ ¡®MyCeliance¡¯ for coming up with it. Not that it made the whole thing any less hilarious.

    She forced herself back to work, amused and enlivened as she was. Scrolling to the top of the message board, it only consisted of eleven contributors, with very sporadic posts over the last two, almost three months. There was a third person in support of an alternate narrative, but the rest did agree about the ¡®heroics¡¯ of this masked stranger. Most of them due to personal experiences, which were somewhat varied.

    Rescues from muggings, extortion and forced tribute. Urging them to not walk through a certain area, only to find out about the criminal conflict that transpired through the news on the next day. Crucial assistance after transportation or machinery accidents for which no one was really at fault, and even helping out with an occasional lost child or pet.

    Tatyana was impressed, her eyes focusing without difficulty despite her growing sleepiness. She even thought it funny, and somewhat enviable, that ¡®MyCeliance¡¯ had met and been helped by them not once or twice, but three times. Either that, or worrying that they somehow got into trouble so often.

    Still, besides the fortunately frequent mentions of when these events took place, this was about all Tatyana could garner from the message thread. Not a lot of information by any means, though it was a surprising amount when considering its source.

    It was quite unlikely that she would find anything else of use through more browsing, but even so, she had gotten enough to start thinking over things since a while ago, finding her attention increasingly focused on reasoning things out the more she read.

    Those shards I saw beside one of the walls were completely shattered, but the material seemed like the real deal. It¡¯s probably what remained of their weapon¡¯s sheath after being broken in the fight with Scar-Tail. The discussion board didn¡¯t mention them using any blades like that one, so either they got it very recently, they don¡¯t have the key, or both. But still¡­ Gamma-class?

    Tatyana leaned back on her chair, shutting off her computer. Moving her legs slowly, toward and away from each other, she looked up at her wall, almost to the ceiling as she fell into a sea of thought.

    I guess it still could have been stolen, but even that random normie glued to the floor had an Alpha-class javelin. If Thorns can provide unlocked field use knight weapons even to some foot soldiers, why would anyone with the means to steal that go for some crappy, locked Gamma-class?

    She stepped onto the carpeted floor, walking toward the thermos filled with water that was now merely cool. Drinking a few gulps she worried over regretting in twenty minutes or so, as it tended to happen.

    I can¡¯t really confirm either way. But if that weapon is not stolen, then Mr. ¡®Nemesis¡¯ must be a knight, probably a cadet if a Gamma-class is all they have. And if its sheath was broken just like that, then the security alert must have pulsed back to the facility.

    Tatyana promptly laid down, her back on the bed. The modestly priced mattress had only felt so comfortable a few times, with the duvet and what she could feel of her blankets underneath so extremely inviting. Sleeping, however, did not even cross her mind.

    In that case, to not raise dangerous suspicions and even get registered as a criminal, they¡¯ll have to go to the armory and ask for a sheath replacement as soon as possible, probably with some accident as an excuse¡­ or, well, I guess they could also prevent tracking by smashing up the weapon itself, but that would just get whoever¡¯s behind the mask in another big problem with the Corps.

    She sighed, eyes narrowing in exhaustion that was increasingly difficult to mask. A situation that, ironically, made the growing and confused anticipation in her irises shine all the more.

    So¡­ it may all converge at the facility, huh? In just a little while, Vagrant... heh, ''Knight'' Nemesis, whoever is behind the mask¡­

    As naturally as the rising sun, and passing by her perception in the same manner, Tatyana¡¯s lips curved into an excited smirk. Without losing sight of her actual goal, the thrill of the situation was undeniable.

 I-8: Duty of Pride

    Powering through her lack of any sleep, Tatyana stood up and redid her ponytail, ready for the day¡¯s preparations. And of course, facing Klo again after last night carried more awkwardness than either of them wanted.

    The remaining time they had apart during showers was a blessing, but they still had to endure breakfast, an elevator descent, and their car trip to the Knight facility. It was roughly as far from the apartment building as the police station was, but when removing the whole ¡®conversation¡¯ factor, it felt like they were going to a whole different city.

    ¡°This is so stupid.¡±

    Tatyana begrudgingly accepted defeat, being the one to break their interaction hiatus as they stepped out of the car, traveling the remaining part of the way on foot. She got no reply from Klo, however, and her cheeks began to warm up uncomfortably as she flexed one hand¡¯s fingers in an almost painful way.

    She wanted to punch her so bad.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to beg.¡±

    ¡°No matter. This is just as good.¡± The elven beauty replied without looking at her, a satisfied, sadistic smile visible on her sculpture-like side profile.

    Tatyana felt like she might explode for a moment, far more in fury than any embarrassment she felt earlier. However, she knew that showing that would only delight her more.

    She lost this round, but would not let her have the next.

    Telling herself that, Tatyana ran through the most possibilities she could think off the top of her head to outdo her next time. On some occasions, people had brought this behavior up as something unnecessary, immature¡­ and they were nothing but imbeciles.

    ¡°Huh¡­ no kidding. Concert¡¯s waiter boy is a cadet too. Did you see, Tanya?¡±

    ¡°Mm?¡±

    Still planning ¡®revenge¡¯ by the time they stepped into the monument area, it took Tatyana a solid couple of seconds to fully register what her friend said. Noticing where Klo¡¯s gaze was directed and following with her eyes, she noticed them.

    It was him indeed, unmistakably. Without the bandanna on his head, head of mostly gray hair on display, he looked far closer to the times he had waited on her and Klo¡¯s table. Seemingly unaware of their attention, he casually talked to someone he was likely close to, a fellow teenage boy with brown hair of a lighter shade than her own, dressed in the same, mostly unmodified cadet uniform and¡­ with a height that stood out for reasons most would find unflattering.

    Not that she really cared, instead replying to Klo¡¯s actual words.

    ¡°Yeah. I mean, it was very likely, considering that hair he¡¯s got.¡±

    ¡°I guess so, but that friend of his¡­ if he was taller, then they would be a seriously yummy duo.¡±

    She really should have expected the conversation to lead into this. Tatyana was a healthy girl, and her own tastes were not all too different from Klo¡¯s, but her friend was still a few levels higher in terms of sheer awareness and interest. Nonetheless, this topic was definitely better than the awkward airs from before.

    Embracing what little time they had to not think about the conflict keeping them at odds, Tatyana replied casually.

    ¡°Did you forget the last time you brought two people home?¡±

    ¡°That was a guy and a girl, and a couple at that. I haven¡¯t really tried with two friends, so this time it could turn out great.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Alright?¡±

    Tatyana almost regretted following up on the topic. Knowing she was so outclassed, regardless of the subject, felt so very bothersome.

    By the time Anastacia Marinca began her introductory speech, Tatyana could have jumped and thanked her out loud, and her feelings did not change despite her intense demonstration. One that even as people panicked, gasped and trembled against their will, including the usually very calm Klo, still brought Tatyana a strange and uncomfortable sense of nostalgia.

    The most difficult part about approaching the armory afterward was somehow getting rid of Klo for the moment, while also keeping her unaware of where she wanted to go.

    In that sense, the gathering of the cadets at the monument area was quite a blessing. After being dismissed, a sense of panic and heavy discomfort remained in most of them, causing the mass of people to mostly rush away to whatever their business was in a very disorganized manner.

    One that easily allowed Tatyana to slip away from her friend¡¯s perception and head toward the armory. Lacking the relevant information, Klo would not be able to reach the same conclusion Tatyana did, and with how unnerved the cadets were, it was very unlikely any of them would notice her enough to answer confidently if Klo asked around. At least provided no instructors had seen her.

    Chuckling from her unexpectedly easy success, Tatyana finally arrived within the armory¡¯s vicinity. Only the vicinity, however, as she came across a sight that made her stop all of a sudden.

    Quite far away, much farther away from the armory than she was, but certainly heading in its direction, she saw two youths. Gray and brown-haired, one taller than the other, lovely eyes and a resting bitch face.

    Of course, they were Concert¡¯s waiter boy and his friend. Still, rather than this coincidence, the surprising part was the light gray case carried by the former.

    More specifically, the dimensions of that case. While fully rectangular in shape, the size itself was what one would expect¡­

    ¡­ is he¡­?

    ¡­ for a shortsword.

    The chain of thoughts suddenly flooding Tatyana¡¯s mind caused her to dangerously delay her retreat. Unusually panicked, she rushed her walk back and away, hoping yet maybe not fully succeeding in looking natural. Trying to somewhat hide across the trees, benches and decorations around the green areas close by, she could not even know for sure whether her hiding spot was the best.

    Tatyana recalled the masked stranger, Nemesis¡¯ Gamma-class weapon. His body silhouette, height, the single eye with a gray iris visible out of that broken mask.

    His voice, the panicked attempts at an explanation¡­ and then, the youth¡¯s own voice, which she had heard several times over the last month, yesterday at Le Petit Concert, and even today right before the General¡¯s display.

    Worried if by now her mind was just fabricating connections, Tatyana somehow remembered a few grayish bangs under that hood¡­

    ¡­ No, I didn¡¯t see that. I don¡¯t think I did. But still¡­

    She saw him enter the armory, leaving the shorter youth to wait outside some distance away. But while her previous thought was likely some sort of confirmation bias, now she witnessed something hardly mistakable.

    Tatyana was sure that from the young man¡¯s walk, the slight tells in his expression and almost hidden stiffness at one side, the presence of a recent, significant injury was being conveyed.

    The girl could have shrieked, clutching her head once she noticed that. The effort required to at least not punch away the tree right next to her felt downright agonizing.

    It¡¯s him, it¡¯s him, it¡¯s him. Damn it, shit, it fucking has to be him!

    Eyes wide open, lips trembling, she brought a hand to her forehead in a futile attempt to recover her cool. Of course, no such conclusions could ever be one hundred percent reliable, but there were barely any alternate hypotheses. Even worse, the more she thought about them, the less sense they made, and the more the waiter boy fit as the man behind the mask.

    The one she had almost murdered, and the one she had deprived of much ability to protect himself against the Violet Thorn. The guy who had casually gifted her a wonderful slice of cheesecake, now in such a mess.

    Tatyana again had to suppress a scream of pure frustration.

    She passed several seconds like that, but whining would not allow her to rest easy, only making up for her mistakes would. With a clear goal in her mind once more, she focused on the armory¡¯s door.

    No other people approached the building for several minutes, and only a single person, one of the instructors from the General¡¯s demonstration, had come out. Sparing him a brief glance, she may have recognized him from a few news articles, checked either by her or Klo. Waal-Svelten or something? She did not care much, frankly.

    The uneventful, boring wait was fortunately not long at all. Around fifteen minutes, though it could have easily been a little less. The young man exited the armory with a unique expression, as if worn out mentally rather than physically. And now that she could focus on it properly, there were few things more obvious than the tells of his hidden injury.

    Just¡­ whatever. It won¡¯t help to dwell on that.

    Letting out a small, quiet sigh, Tatyana focused on something else, yet just as important. The youth approached his waiting friend, the content of their conversation just barely eluding her ears. He lifted up the weapon case soon after, approaching the lock area with a hand that likely held its key.

    Tatyana reacted quickly, scuttling over to the side, rather than closer. All she needed was a different angle to finally confirm that the weapon in the case was indeed a shortsword. One of comparable dimensions and shape to that she had seen last night in Nemesis¡¯ hand.

    The girl¡¯s eyes unconsciously drooped, slightly but noticeably. A complicated expression reaching all the way to her lips, tightening to one side, she continued looking at the chatting young men with a more troubled focus.

    So it really is him¡­?

    Still, even her damaged concentration was enough for the moment. One in which she noticed those expressive gray eyes of his widening as they stumbled across her location.

    Shit!

    Tatyana stepped back and to the side, scuttling across any structures that could mask even small parts of her body. It should have been enough, as she had not delayed her use of sorcery in the slightest.

    A different pattern drawn by each hand, one gathering large amounts of prana to muddle the detail visible beyond a certain distance, the other steadily dispersing that prana in a transparent ¡®haze¡¯ to shroud the silhouettes that remained. With the assistance of just some benches, plant life and the nearby buildings, an effective concealing ¡®curtain¡¯ was quickly formed.

    The composite spell required constant upkeep, which would have been rather annoying to maintain if the youth¡¯s attention was not grabbed again by his friend. Apparently making excuses to him with a troubled expression, he seemed unable to relocate Tatyana even as he tried again, in a more conscious, surreptitious manner.

    Tatyana breathed out with her eyes briefly closed. Her action was certainly reflexive and rough, but it was effective enough. Having dealt with the volatile issue, she looked back at the two teenagers as they began walking away. Naturally, she moved in the same direction, all the while maintaining a safe, slightly longer distance and only modestly relaxing her concealment spell.

    She had not taken over three steps when she stopped, stiff as soon as she started on the fourth. Or rather, she was made to stop, and instead of just stiff, it would have been more fitting to describe her as ¡®frozen¡¯.

    For a simplistic explanation on the art of sorcery, it consisted of using one¡¯s trained regulators, microscopic organelles responsible for safely filtering the prana that was omnipresent in the environment, to manipulate and transform that same substance in order to produce various effects. Generally, this meant that if several sorcerers were in the same area, they would be drawing on the same resource pool.

    Different places in the world tended to have varying amounts of prana density, with some specific ones tending toward troublesome extremes. But as a general rule, prana was thoroughly abundant, which was why humans evolved regulators in the first place. It also made the ¡®drying out¡¯ of ambient prana the least relevant concern to any sorcerer, if they even thought of it at all in the first place.

    All this to say that with the resource being ¡®shared¡¯, it was possible to become aware of another person manipulating nearby prana at the same time.

    This was quite difficult before prana was transformed, owing to its mostly indistinct basic qualities and sheer quantity, and a skilled sorcerer could further obscure their use of it. But despite that, although Tatyana did not specialize as a sensor and her focus was entirely elsewhere, she still felt it.

    Almost like a blade pressed to her neck, causing her to not only stop on her tracks, but even hold in her breath for several seconds.

    ¡­ what¡­ what is he¡­?

    It was sharp, dense, and almost cold. Slight but undeniable nervousness running down her body, she focused her attention beyond the spell she maintained, pinpointing the source of such an ominous influence. Her spell¡¯s fluidity faltered, forced to restart its harmonious pattern as she noticed the almost jagged, razor-like prana converging around the small and lithe youth with brown hair. The partner of the boy she had been focusing on.

    If there was something Tatyana was surprised by, it was not that he had noticed her presence. Neither that he remained aware of such even after she made an effort to further conceal herself, or even that the amassed prana was aimed at such a precise estimate of her location.

    Instead, by only noticing once the metaphysical blade¡¯s point was thrust before her, she figured that all of the aforementioned had happened without her being aware in the slightest.

    When did he even¡­!?

    Maybe when the other youth saw her briefly? The reaction tipped him off? ¡­ No. If that had been the case, then he would not have been able to target her so precisely. He had to have noticed her before, without a single tell, and Tatyana none the wiser.

    And considering that to be the case, it would not have been a wild guess to say that he could make his use of prana much less obvious, shaping a threatening spell that she could only react to post-launch.

    So he¡¯s warning me¡­?

    Tatyana frowned, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the steadily departing backs. However, she did not resume her approach.

    I¡¯m on your side, dick! Or at least I think so. Covering for your pal? I¡¯m trying to do the same here!

    It would have been a lie to say she did not feel insulted. So much concern and effort devoted to helping out, to atone for her mistake, only for this random guy to assume she was the threat!?

    ¡­ I guess with what he knows, though, that¡¯d be the most reasonable idea.

    Still, she also felt slightly relaxed knowing that someone else was also watching out for the youth, even if she was not around. It lifted some weight off her chest, almost enough to consider thanking him in some way, communicating through the prana they both shared.

    ¡®Consider¡¯ being the key word.

    Nonetheless, she received some comfort. Some much-needed tranquility to continue on with the next stage.

    I swear if you make me regret this¡­

    Sparing a final glance back at the bantering young men as she began to turn, Tatyana promptly reinvigorated her concealment spell as she retreated. Making use of the time she had left before Klo found her, she traveled back home slightly tense, yet more committed than ever.

    Klo had the advantage of a car, but booking a cab via her phone neutralized that with only a few minutes delay and a price that may have been a little too high for one trip. Then again, running and leaping across the city in broad daylight would bring more problems than it was worth, considering her concealment spell was much weaker when hiding something in motion. Thus, the taxi was still the best option.

    Tatyana whispered a satisfied ¡®yes!¡¯ upon noticing she had arrived first at the apartment, despite the few setbacks. Entering her room, door closed right behind as she began to undress, she laid out clothes to change into without paying much attention.

    Maybe the smartest choice would be to go to Concert next? I don¡¯t really know when his shift begins, but it shouldn¡¯t be too far from now. Worst case I can just wait there until evening.

    A light purple sleeveless top under a navy-blue turtleneck, coupled with similarly dark jeans. She changed out of her uniform with her mind elsewhere, barely remembering to put on something warmer than what she had chosen yesterday.

    Rather, her focus was on what she would even say after arriving, trying to discuss a very important, yet definitely strange topic out of the blue. Let alone the fact that she barely knew the guy, would have to explain how she even figured this much out, and also prepare for his reaction to being approached by the girl who had just pierced his gut...

    ¡­

    ¡­¡­.

    Suddenly, just taking the first steps out of her bedroom, let alone when she had to exit the building itself, and then travel all the way to the bistro felt so intensely weird.

    Why didn¡¯t I think of this before? It¡¯s going to be sooo awkward, ugh¡­

    An erratic expression on her face, it took Tatyana a solid breath and flexing of her interlocked fingers to feel ready. Even then, she could not exit the room.

    Only this time, her embarrassment over the whole issue had nothing to do with it.

    Her hand simply could not turn the knob. Far from it being stuck or broken, it was like some invisible, yet almost solid ¡®barrier¡¯ just barely prevented her from even touching it. It was as if space itself had been removed and replaced with a coating of ¡®void¡¯ she could not interact with, let alone reach through. Even when she tried to push the door itself open, the same phenomenon stopped her a millimeter or so away from touching it.

    To say Tatyana was confused would have been an understatement, though her eyes only widened in surprise for a split second, before being completely overcome by an anger expressed by not just her face, but her whole body.

    ¡°Klo, you bitch!¡±

    ¡°Whine all you want. You still have access to your bathroom and plenty of snacks I prepared, so you¡¯ll be staying there until Alyssa and Alexander get here, even if it takes a couple of days.¡±

    Why was she even surprised that she was already there, right outside the locked door? She should have known that Klo could cast a concealment spell as well, probably even better than her own.Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°You know what? Fuck this. You should know better than anyone else that you¡¯ll need more than a sturdy barrier to set me back!¡±

    The surrounding prana rustled and spiraled like embers in the wind, causing her ponytail and loose edges on her clothes to flutter. The room¡¯s temperature increased dangerously from one moment to another, though no harm came to Tatyana or her surroundings.

    For the moment.

    ¡°That quickly? Aren¡¯t you at least going to try to convince me to let you out?¡± Klo¡¯s voice sounded oddly unimpressed.

    ¡°We argued enough about this last night! If you¡¯re just going to stick to your bullshit, I¡¯ll give you the time it takes me to blast this damn thing away!¡± Tatyana shouted as she stood with her feet at shoulder width from each other, right hand extended before her and left tightened into a fist.

    It would be fine. Plenty of force would be offset by the barrier itself, so Klo should be able to easily dispel the remainder. Even knowing that, Tatyana waited for a moment after her attack was ready, giving her friend enough time to undo the spell.

    One second, two seconds¡­

    What is she even thinking?

    ¡­ Five seconds in which she saw no signs of the barrier weakening at all, or even heard an attempt in words to deescalate the situation.

    Nothing happened, but she knew Klo was still standing right outside. As if goading her, silently saying she would not go ahead with it.

    ¡­ you stubborn fucking¡­ Fine then!

    She thought too little of her in that case.

    Quickly enough to be almost anti-climactic, the condensed prana burst in a searing flash of silver, aimed right at the door.

    It had been strong and bright enough to momentarily blind Tatyana herself, but she knew something was wrong even before she could see its actual result. With this sort of spell and its intended effect, it was so very strange to not feel even some trembling in the room, but that was exactly the case. No extra effort was needed to maintain her balance, and she did not hear her thermos, desk lamp or anything else of the sort falling over due to the shockwave.

    When normal lighting returned to the room, nothing looked different, except for Tatyana¡¯s now astonished face. An expression she would have likely maintained for a couple more seconds, if not for Klo¡¯s words.

    ¡°I really wish I could see your face right now.¡±

    The perfect fit of her taunts, this time, elicited enough rage to drown out any possible embarrassment.

    ¡°Just when did you construct something like this!?¡±

    ¡°Last night, of course. You were gone and done with my input after I said I would contact A&A, sparing no attention to anything but your research, so it wasn¡¯t difficult to lay it down right outside your door. Annoyingly long, sure, but still pretty easy. Just needed a few final touches today, which was no issue with you ditching me and all~.¡±

    This was not the first time Tatyana cursed her negligence, but it was certainly one to remember.

    It sounded stupid even to her, but she had taken her own statement of Klo¡¯s inability to hold her off for granted, and overly focused on the people she could ask for help. Thought Klo would just leave it all to them.

    Sure, it would have been extremely difficult for the elf to keep Tatyana away from something, provided the latter tried her utmost. However, that was only in the moment, for a conflict that developed and concluded quickly.

    But what if she had several hours to act? To prepare and add layer upon layer to a complex, set spell? In that case, things were far different, and nothing was certain.

    Tatyana had not gone all out in her attempt to break the barrier, of course. But if the amount of power previously used had failed to even crack it, there was little doubt it would firmly endure an unrestrained shot, even if it was brought to its limits.

    There was no way around it. Klo had outmatched her.

    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, this is important! A good person could get crippled or worse, and I can stop it!¡±

    ¡°You think you can stop it. And if I have to choose between a stranger or my friend getting hurt, then I¡¯ll feel bad for them, but I¡¯m choosing you every time. Still, as you said, we have argued enough about this.¡±

    No give at all. It did not matter if she spent a minute or a whole day trying to convince her; Klo¡¯s decision was set in stone.

    ¡°Let me go already!¡±

    A second spell impacted the barrier at the door. Then a third, a fourth¡­ a ninth. The only noticeable effects were blurry afterimages as she blinked, and the growing ache of casting sorcery without breaks.

    Tatyana let out a heavy breath, a severe frown on her face worsening even more as she stomped off toward her bed, kicking at the barrier in frustration. Needless to say, no progress was made with that either.

    She buried her face in her hands, riddled with frustration she could not even properly vent out. Time was running out, each minute that passed being one minute closer to the Violet Thorn¡¯s possible move. One that could very well make hell of this youth¡¯s life, if not end it outright. Last time she had seen him, he was in the company of a friend who seemed to care quite much, but just how much could he do? That friend had not managed to help him with dangerous accidents over the last few months, with criminals such as Scar-Tail¡­ nor with Tatyana herself.

    She knew she was very capable. No excitement was felt from the faculty¡¯s praise during that test, the possibility that Klo could actually hold her off did not even cross her mind, and even a completely unexpected threat had merely angered her through its intention, rather than scaring her off as it was probably meant to do. Hell, without even being part of some law enforcement group, how many people would just jump in and attack an apparent powered criminal, without knowing anything about them?

    Tatyana did not feel a sliver of doubt in any of those moments, as she knew better than anyone just what she was capable of. And despite that, she could never avoid tripping up on the most elementary of things, using the talent she was undeniably proud of in the clumsiest, most laughable of ways.

    Now, an awkward, yet virtuous person was in danger of paying that toll on her behalf.

    It was infuriating. Irrational. Unfair. Just what was the use of talent in such irresponsible hands? When it led to little more than empty honors on her end, and undeserved problems for others? If things like this kept happening, was she even cut out for¡­

    ¡­ what am I even thinking? I¡¯m smarter than this.

    Indeed, just wallowing like that, a trap that so many people often fell into, lent itself to ultimately stupid thoughts. Tatyana could do better than that, and it was honestly embarrassing that she almost got caught up in such nonsense.

    Her ability, coupled with her recklessness and impatience, did cause quite a bit of trouble, but that was in the past. What mattered now was only if she could fix things and take responsibility for her blunder. Nothing else.

    What was the problem with that? It was nothing beyond her means. After all, she knew just how capable she was.

    Klo constructed the bulk of this barrier last night, and quite painstakingly so to make sure I wouldn¡¯t notice, even as distracted as I was. But if she built it up right outside the door, as she said, isn¡¯t it possible the side by the window could be just a tad weaker?

    Tatyana¡¯s hands had long since left her face, revealing a pair of turquoise eyes so focused they may have looked scary to some. Standing back up from the bed, she walked across the room and examined every nook and cranny of the barrier. Piece by piece, layer by layer.

    The spell was powerful, sturdy and complex. Truly, it was an exceptional obstacle to confront, but a mere obstacle nonetheless.

    Water would break past stone, and a lion would bite through its chains. So what if Klo had planned this all out, and dedicated entire hours of spell work to make something that could truly lock Tatyana up? She would still shatter it to bits.

    After all, she had important responsibilities to attend to.

    But how does it endure so many spells, one after the other? No matter how strong it is, it should have at least peeled away somewhat. Even if not enough to fall apart, enough for me to notice.

    Once again, Tatyana formed an attack spell and shot it toward the barrier. She may have overheard Klo sighing in part sympathy and part frustration, but did not pay her any further mind. In fact, she was not even looking at the time on her cellphone anymore, being completely engrossed in the task at hand instead.

    For a second time, Tatyana held back the amount of strength in her spell, though for a different reason now. Without exerting herself in a futile attempt to tear the barrier down through brute force, she instead focused her senses on the surrounding prana, searching for hints on the barrier¡¯s workings.

    Hints which she found rather quickly, and managed to confirm soon after.

    Huh¡­ so it absorbs prana from the outside in response to force applied from the inside, both to strengthen itself and to repair any damage, no matter how minuscule. I¡¯ve also been able to keep casting without any signs of running out, so it must still be permeable to prana, at least somewhat.

    Tatyana looked outside the window. The sky steadily becoming darker, she suppressed any thoughts on the matter. Klo had done an extraordinary job by all means, so she could not spare any attention on distractions until the magic prison she had found herself in was dealt with.

    It would take stamina, attention to detail, patience, and most of all: time. Even more than the already considerable amount she had spent on tests and planning. But as many inconveniences as she had to wade through, she now had a ¡®lockpick¡¯ to work with.

    Tatyana breathed in and out, taking a proper position as she ignited the prana in her surroundings yet again. Right hand extended before her, a steady and dense stream of silver flames flew toward the barrier on the window¡¯s side of the room.

    The spell hit the barrier, dissipating soon after contact without causing any real damage to it. However, Tatyana¡¯s expression did not change as she continued casting, the silver fire continuously rushing forth like a heavy, yet focused flamethrower.

    A minute, five minutes, twenty minutes, even more hours had passed without Tatyana letting up on the assault, only occasionally switching the hand being extended to help guide the spell. And even after that much time, not a single crack, no matter how small, remained in the barrier.

    Still, Tatyana could not have cared less. Not out of arrogant dismissal, nor even out of stubbornness. Rather, virtually all her focus laid on the minuscule, pore-like gaps in the barrier. Openings that allowed fittingly sized fragments of her spell to pass through, before seeping past the small gaps around the window as well.

    Tiny and insignificant as these dregs were on their own, Tatyana retained full control of them and sent them farther away, even as the barrier tried to pull them back, toward a rooftop well beyond one hundred meters away. Far from the barrier¡¯s reach, in more than just distance.

    Weak, scattered and small as they are, it¡¯s completely different to try and absorb formed spells rather than raw prana, isn¡¯t it~?

    Tatyana smirked, almost as if to forget the strain she was going through.

    Ache, exhaustion, and more. Having to maintain the integrity of what could be called countless individual spells, let alone control them all from such a distance, was overwhelming. All of the same type and only needing a very basic, rough structure, but despite that, the experience was akin to consciously handling individual raindrops.

    Still, it was probably thanks to that uniformity that such a move could be pulled off. That, and the fact that since a good while ago, the overall number of spell fragments became static, with negligible increases unable to trouble her focus. After some more time, the overall number was instead decreasing.

    Tatyana¡¯s anticipation was so much that if the circumstances were different, she might have made a small pattern mistake at some crucial point in the process. But this time, the nearly worthless dregs of prana converged smoothly, spiraling alongside each other as they melded and formed something greater, stronger and more stable.

    A spell of equal, if not greater quality to any she had cast within her prison, but shaped well outside of it.

    A barrier made to, above anything else, contain me. It can stop almost anything I throw at it, but only from the inside. The outside, made to absorb prana and increase the inside¡¯s strength, shouldn¡¯t be nearly as sturdy. Even if the window side is not any lesser in its construction¡­

    Spell fragments continued to seep through the barrier, the stream of flames showing no signs of stopping. Even so, Tatyana relaxed greatly. Those she was controlling, the ones relevant to the construction of her extra spell, had run out.

    ¡­ I have more than enough to pierce right through!

    Visible even inside her room, far away as the silvery-white comet was, only a simple beckoning gesture from her left hand was needed. As if it had been waiting for that, the spear-like blaze streaked right toward her, violently illuminating the nighttime landscape.

    Around the same time that Klo made her presence known again¡­

    ¡°¡­! No! Wait jus¡ª!¡±

    ¡­ with quite a satisfactorily panicked voice. She was too late.

    Tatyana increased the strength of her flamethrower spell even more, as the impact drew nearer. As a result, the barrier¡¯s absorption efforts would grow proportionately stronger. Attempting to draw in and assimilate as much prana as was needed to withstand the current opposition, while incidentally drawing in that which it could not assimilate.

    Propelled not only by its own strength and Tatyana¡¯s control, but also the barrier¡¯s absorption, the spell made a marvelously destructive landing.

    Blinding lights raged, shattering sounds echoed, and tremors powerful enough to likely reach the whole building and a little more were felt. The effects had yet to completely vanish, when Tatyana noticed the prana composing the whole window side of the barrier dissipating like dust in the air, as well as her completely broken away window, with many cracks running through her wall all the way to the corners.

    All in all, it was an amount of damage she could deal with later. But for now, she had a ¡®superhero¡¯ to save.

    Slipping into her calf-length boots to complete the outfit she had picked out so many hours ago, Tatyana rushed past any possible last-ditch efforts on Klo¡¯s part. With a strong step on her room¡¯s floor turned into a minefield of glass, the next step was on her window¡¯s base.

    Not a second later, she had leapt out and into the night.

    <hr>

    ¡°Hey, Noelle!¡±

    ¡°Hm? Well, someone¡¯s frantic. To what do we owe two days in a row~?¡±

    Le Petit Concert¡¯s red-headed manager answered casually, looking away from a different waitress from the one Tatyana had briefly spoken to last night. The frustration in the employee¡¯s face elicited sympathy, but she could spare no words on the matter in the current circumstances.

    Tatyana hurried in, utterly unconcerned with the nearby diners or employees as she spoke up.

    ¡°I need to talk to that waiter guy.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You¡¯ll have to be a little more specific, girl.¡±

    The ponytailed brunette almost bit back by reflex, but she restrained herself with her hands at her waist and nothing more than a tongue click.

    ¡°Look, he¡¯s like¡­ a waiter and a cook too, right? Big gray eyes¡­ Oh! He¡¯s a knight cadet too.¡±

    Despite Noelle seemingly not paying much attention, her eyes did show her understanding as Tatyana continued speaking.

    ¡°You mean Edmond?¡±

    ¡°I guess? He gave me that cheesecake you left for me.¡±

    But on her next words, the exact opposite of understanding had taken hold of Noelle¡¯s expression in an almost comical manner.

    ¡°Cheesecake I left for you? You¡¯re cool, but that doesn¡¯t sound like something I¡¯d do. My desserts are mine.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Huh?¡±

    Such confusion reached Tatyana herself, who still remembered the moment she got that cheesecake clearly. Glancing aside toward the serving area near the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of the cook with the scarred lip, who had apparently been watching the exchange between Noelle and her with an amused grin since some time ago, before walking back to whatever business he had pending.

    That was also quite weird, but she had no time to ponder about it.

    ¡°Okay, whatever. Knight cadet guy, waiter and cook. Can I talk to him?¡±

    ¡°Edmond¡¯s not here. He¡¯s feeling sick enough that he ditched a house party with the others.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Ah¡­ I see¡­¡±

    She should have expected something of the sort, but hearing it directly still felt like a tried-and-true kick to the stomach. After all, Tatyana knew very well just what, or who, had kept Edmond away from not only work, but a fun get-together as well.

    As if the shame was not enough, her worries somehow managed to intensify. If he had been working, it meant he was in a very public place that could possibly deter the Violet Thorn¡¯s offensive, at least for some time. But if he was resting over at his place, depending on where it was, it could very well be an area they would not care about messing up.

    This is bad, I¡¯m near the end of my leads. If this is how things are, then there¡¯s little else I can do other than¡­

    Realization came to Tatyana¡¯s mind without much turmoil.

    ¡­ beat the Violet Thorn myself.

    If they had not attacked yet, there was the option to strike first and hard, delivering a clear message to make them stop, or at least forcing the Thorns to regroup and reconsider their plans.

    She did not have many resources to play with, but the gang¡¯s higher ups were well-known Unmasked, which meant she knew who to target and only needed to find them. A task much easier said than done, but quite doable.

    Maybe I should start from the bottom? Between the police¡¯s website and that forum, I can probably find some places they tend to do their business at. So long as I can find at least one of their grunts, I¡¯ll get leads to someone of higher standing, and if I keep at it¡­

    ¡°So, what do you even need him for?¡±

    Tatyana knew what her next step should be, but Noelle¡¯s interruption of her thoughts was still slightly bothersome.

    ¡°¡­ Forget it. I¡¯ll just come here tomorrow or some other day.¡± She replied, already turning around and on her way out.

    ¡°Look, this seems important. I¡¯m not asking as his boss, but as a friend. What¡¯s going on?¡± Noelle insisted with a tone not often heard from her.

    In fact, it was unusual enough for Tatyana to stop her walk and turn back to her with a sharp look. Serious eyes, brows furrowed, but with a confident half-grin.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fully honest, you can¡¯t help much with this, but I¡¯ll take care of it all. Don¡¯t worry about anything, and Edmond will be back before you know it.¡±

    Noelle frowned, her eyes uniquely troubled as she put both hands in her pockets. Uncomfortable enough to be obvious not only to Tatyana, but seemingly the nearby employees as well, her lips parted again.

    ¡°He¡¯s a great cook, so he better be.¡±

    As Tatyana¡¯s motivation roused even more, her half-grin became a full-blown smile. The best she could currently pull off to comfort a worried person.

    Turning back around, she exited the bistro and picked up an incomparably faster pace right after. Her muscles relaxed, allowing the prana in the air to flow through them as she jumped onto the roof of a neighboring building. Then another, and one more, following onto increasingly taller rooftops from which she could scout the city better.

    There were no distractions, nor any whims to satisfy base curiosity. Tatyana¡¯s search the past night had been deliberate and thought out, but this was on another level. Striding across buildings in the dark, she coated the vicinity of her phone in a protective air sorcery as she took it out.

    She recalled quite a bit from her research, but getting a reminder so she would not miss out on any possibly useful details was vital. She had marked all websites and sources that seemed of any value, then reviewed them one by one. There was hardly any delay between the information being acknowledged and action being taken in response, and with each landmark covered and spot or event she was made aware of, logical reasoning and common sense derived extra leads to be used.

    Overall, it was still a very long and tedious process. Not only was there no guarantee that any of the places would still be frequented, or even that they were particularly important to the Violet Thorn in the first place. But for the spots she thought of on her own, they were conclusions based on surface-level information with little chance of being fully accurate.

    Ultimately, it was not Tatyana¡¯s research that allowed her to take the final step she needed, at least not entirely. Rather, it was an arguable mistake on part of the Violet Thorn themselves, more specifically their methodology and habits.

    From what little Klo had told her, gangs lived lives of constant competition. Not with law enforcement officials, whom they would generally avoid whenever possible, but with each other and, most of all, the common people. The former presented problems through differing ways of thinking and limiting business potential, while the latter were the business potential when buying, paying tribute and so on.

    This meant that usually, most gangs were not precisely itching to get on their next violent spree. Such frequent fighting led to heavy loss of resources, ranging from people and capital to merchandise and operating materials. Deficits of that sort would be crippling to any organization, especially a business and doubly so for one running illegally. Not to consider the potential harm to their reputation should conflicts go in a less than stellar manner.

    However, it was that same aspect of reputation that the core of the competition was built on. Rather than fight directly whenever they could, gangs would instead fight through intimidation in the news, popular knowledge and rumors. The Unmasked were a product of that sort of culture, one that worked extremely well not only to keep rivals cautious or even drive them away, but also to make the people, buyers who supported the business, obey and provide.

    Nevertheless, mere horror tales could only go so far. Without a solid root to their intimidation efforts, a gang would not only fail to support itself, but it likely would not even form. Naturally, two things were needed: a number, even if relatively small, of actually frightening deeds, and people to have witnessed or experienced them to serve as verification.

    Successful gangs chose places to ¡®show off¡¯ with proper attention and care, making sure they would not be heavily patrolled by the police and that there was some vulnerability to exploit, either in a rival¡¯s control or the people living there. Only then would they get to work, with a strict grasp on their available time as they would not make any real effort to hide their activities.

    Tatyana was not particularly concerned with gangs even in a city so attractive to them as Seyfelt, but she at least knew this much from talking to Klo. Therefore, while she had no insight into the current status of criminal power struggles, she was aware of places that were or had been patrolled less frequently by law enforcement.

    All in all, even if it had taken her well over an hour, the search field she had to be mainly concerned with had shrunk tremendously. And with so many other factors converging, working in unison and layering upon one another, she finally noticed something abnormal, worthy of enough attention to stop her run in a manner that was anything but smooth.

    Even the purely physical effects of whatever was taking place reached Tatyana, far as she was. Echoes of crumbling concrete, rising smoke, visible debris alongside dust and rising heat, all clearly noticed from hundreds of meters away. It was largely unnecessary to feel for the ripples in neighboring prana, as doing so merely made Tatyana¡¯s stress grow beyond what could be calmly thought through.

    Whatever was going on, just from the powers involved, exceeded her expectations by a wide margin. She doubted even the very unusual direct conflicts grew to this extent often, and considering the nearby area¡¯s lacking police attention, the most likely sources were either a battle between different gangs, or something worse.

    This is beyond nasty.

    Tatyana condensed power in her body and leapt, approaching the epicenter of the destruction with a frantic pace as she landed and ran from roof to wall and another roof. It took barely any time for her to freeze in shock once more, in mind as much as body.

    She saw the body, flung across the air like a torn doll on a rope.

    She saw the head of disheveled gray hair covered in soot, the hooded sweatshirt that had previously kept it hidden now turned to sparse rags.

    She saw the other man, large and ferocious like a beast, rushing the youth who had just barely broken free of the line holding him.

    Tatyana reacted as fast as she could with an attempt to protect him. A basic barrier, a simple shockwave or some other deterrent to the strike about to take place. Anything. But even she was not fast enough, barely able to gather the needed prana when the monstrous man¡¯s fist-like claw made contact.

    The sound was dry, unassuming and without extravagance, and yet its echo was almost painful to simply be in the range of. Window-cracking waves spread quickly and were felt even by Tatyana on the rooftop, but they were trivial compared to the boy who had just been struck, now flying through the long street in the blink of an eye.

    He hit a building without being able to do anything. Glass shattered and the wall was breached, followed by any other obstacles inside and then the wall on the other side, smashed to pieces in much the same way after which he fell and rolled on the pavement, all the way to the end of the next street.

    Tatyana panicked, running in the same direction atop the buildings after failing to shield him. She witnessed it clearly, in such detail as to be unable to deny the reality of events that would not be out of place in some messed up movie.

    The boy was not moving anymore.

    Inert, without even twitching, Tatyana could not help but wonder if he might already be gone, a possibility that struck her body in way she would have taken a lightning bolt over.

    The beastly man, alongside his three fellows, approached through the recent hole in the building. Even after this much, they were still unsatisfied. No matter how lifeless their enemy looked, they would confirm his death beyond any doubt.

    That, or something even worse. If he happened to still be alive, or just by having his body, there was so much they could still do and had done to make an example. To make others fear and respect them.

    Disgusting.

    The night was freezing, but Tatyana¡¯s body was boiling. She let loose, her influence reaching prana beyond a kilometer away, even if tenuously. Her spell capacity reaching beyond anything she had needed since moving to Seyfelt, she still reached for something other than sorcery.

    A different circuit, channeled in a unique way. Tatyana extended her hand to the side, ready to take hold of something that had yet to appear.

    Her thoughts had lost any complexity, but it did not matter in the slightest. Furious as she was, she still knew what she had to do. And for the first of those things, such anger would not impede her in any way.

 I-9: Cooldown

    Edmond felt quite overwhelmed. The current state of his body surely contributed to that fact, but ultimately it was far more of a mental issue.

    He knew there was likely far more to Tatyana¡¯s day than what she had told him. Not that her reasoning was exactly faulty; far from it, it was impressive enough to somewhat remind him of detective comic books and the like, silly as the thought was. But from the explanation she had given him, obviously truncated judging from the small pauses she took while moving from point to point, the connections between certain facts were relatively weak.

    Either way, regardless of what Tatyana was keeping hidden, she had figured him out. And the realization of possibly doing a poor job in keeping himself a secret behind the mask shook him as much as the girl just being that sharp.

    ¡°So, about your suit¡­¡±

    Tatyana reiterated, sounding slightly awkward as she gave Edmond a distraction he was actually quite thankful for.

    ¡°Mask aside, it¡¯s two pieces connected at the waist. Like putting on a shirt and pants.¡±

    ¡°Uhuh¡­ so, are the mask buckles the same?¡±

    Edmond¡¯s eyes blinked frantically in response, and Tatyana sighed.

    ¡°Look, didn¡¯t we just establish it doesn¡¯t make a difference? I don¡¯t know about you¡­ Edmond, but I feel kind of weird about still talking to someone behind a mask despite everything that¡¯s happened.¡±

    Her intensity was less than calming, but he did not disagree with her words. From the perspective of building some sort of trust, his continuous hiding of a known ¡®secret¡¯ probably felt insulting, or at least ungrateful despite how much he owed her¡­

    ¡°I swear, I¡¯m not trying to hurt you. If I was, don¡¯t you think I could¡¯ve done things differently while you were out cold?¡±

    ¡­ or maybe he was just overthinking things. As hilariously awful as her attempts to reassure him were, it seemed she just wanted to confirm he did not consider her an enemy.

    ¡°R-Right, I get it. I j-just need to sit and¡­¡± Edmond replied, desperately trying to not laugh.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help you out.¡±

    Fortunately, she appeared oblivious to that fact, as he had barely started moving when she approached to support his efforts.

    It was all quite clumsy, medical care based on logic and common sense more than any real training. But it was sufficient for the moment, and despite some further setbacks, Edmond was helped to a relatively comfortable and stable sitting position. Leaning back on the sofa bed and feeling his feet on the floor after quite some time, he tried and failed to restrain a sigh.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± He said genuinely, despite finding it difficult to directly meet Tatyana¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, I mean it. And¡­ there. Much better.¡± After a few seconds, he heard one failed click and two successful ones, allowing her to pull his mask away and lay it down on the nearby table. ¡°Next would be the upper body part. We really need to bandage that arm up properly. Can you lift them up?¡± She asked while continuing with the slightly more troublesome waist buckles.

    Edmond tensed his shoulders in a half attempt, testing things out. The discomfort was there, but certainly could be worse.

    ¡°I think I can. The gel¡¯s numbing might be helping.¡±

    ¡°Great.¡±

    Tatyana stood up from her kneeling position while Edmond raised his arms. Frankly, the embarrassment of having his suit removed like a child being undressed by his parents was far more annoying than his current pain.

    The damaged gear was dropped on the floor without concern, and Tatyana immediately attended to his arm. Without the suit to mask it, the injury looked even worse than it did before, so much so that Edmond preferred to look away. Tatyana did show some shock at first sight, but it failed to slow her down in any way as she proceeded to unroll and cut some bandages, efficiently wrapping up the wound even if not in a pretty way.

    ¡°Do you treat injuries often?¡± Edmond asked from curiosity, slightly regretting how much it sounded like empty small talk.

    ¡°Not really, but I¡¯ve had enough experience.¡± Tatyana, however, seemed to care little¡­ ¡°Why? Am I not doing a good job?¡±

    ¡­ about that specific concern, as a very defensive and even accusative-sounding question came right after.

    Oops.

    ¡°You¡¯re doing great. That¡¯s why I asked.¡± Edmond replied honestly. There was no need for bandages to look good, they just needed to dress the wounds well.

    ¡°¡­ Cool.¡±

    The small smile she showed at such approval may have made his heart beat just a tad faster, but certainly not as much as when she knelt once more, and began to pull up the hem of his slightly ripped gym shirt.

    Words failed Edmond for over a solid second as he felt cool, soft fingertips prod upward across his abdomen.

    ¡°What are you doing!?¡±

    ¡°Checking for any other wounds¡­ that might need dressing.¡±

    The sudden warmth on Edmond¡¯s face made its redness beyond obvious to him, but that fell out of any focus as he noticed Tatyana¡¯s voice going rapidly lower. He looked down at her, unconcerned whether she saw him blushing, and noticed her eyes were now somber and uneasy.

    Her thoughts were quite obvious, considering the focus of her gaze and the general area she was touching.

    ¡°¡­ Look, it¡¯s all good. It¡¯s well treated, not just by me but also by a friend who knows plenty about this stuff too. So don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not ¡®good¡¯ at all. It¡¯s my fault you got so deep into this mess.¡±

    Even as she lifted his shirt further, brushing the sparse and shallow wounds she found with medical gel, her mood remained dark after seeing the deeper, older sutured gash.

    ¡­ This is nonsense.

    ¡°You saved my life, you know?¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s hand stopped, her heavy look faltering after hearing Edmond¡¯s words.

    The time it took for her to resume her treatment was enough to get her barely, yet noticeably flustered. But no matter how badly she wanted to hide it, their positions ensured Edmond could see the growing, satisfied grin on her face.

    ¡°¡­ I guess I did¡­¡± She replied with a rather unique voice, oozing with a shy sort of pride.

    One which Edmond felt so incredibly lucky to hear.

    He chuckled slightly, owing to the somewhat lightened mood, but found himself stopping abruptly as he heard the apartment¡¯s door open. The dry steps of thick-heeled boots accompanied the sound, promptly kicked off as the new arrival heel-kicked the door shut.

    ¡°Is it so difficult to text me an answer?¡±

    Her voice and appearance were familiar enough, but the elf Kloel now showed a cold, irritated attitude miles apart from what Edmond had seen when she dined at Concert.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been busy.¡±

    Tatyana, however, responded in the same dispassionate way she likely would have if her friend was in a better mood.

    ¡°You messaged me first, it¡¯s fair of me to expect a reply. Again, why treat him here and not just take him to the hospital?¡±

    ¡°Those shitheads found him before I did. They might have insiders with the police, and if that¡¯s the case, links to local hospitals are very likely. They¡¯d not only track him there, but also find the guy behind the mask.¡±

    Somehow, Edmond had not gotten around to that topic yet. While prioritizing other questions was not the worst excuse in the world, he did feel like a careless idiot for not even wondering why Tatyana chose to treat him herself.

    As for the explanation itself, he did not find any real issues with it. Even without considering the Violet Thorn, he did not want anyone, even if they were nurses or doctors, to ask questions about how he received such injuries. As far as he was concerned, Tatyana had done him yet another favor.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    But when it came to Kloel¡­

    ¡°I see. So, you didn¡¯t do them in?¡±

    ¡­ she seemed wholly unsatisfied, giving a response that forced Tatyana into several seconds of silence. Differently from the previous time, her lips went tight and her eyes lost their focus, narrowing under an intense frown.

    Her frustration was so obvious that it may have exceeded Edmond¡¯s resurfaced fear of the four Unmasked, whom he now knew to still be out there and aiming for his neck.

    ¡°They were tougher than I expected, but they didn¡¯t get away lightly.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s your takeaway from all this!? These people have their faces plastered everywhere and the police still can¡¯t bring them in, but you think you can just waltz in and¡­ no, no way¡­¡±

    Having come closer to reprimand her friend further, Kloel¡¯s lilac eyes finally glanced over to Edmond and went wide open.

    It took her this long to notice!?

    On one hand, her single-minded concern for Tatyana was remarkable, admirable even. But on the other hand, Edmond could not help but feel a little¡­ insulted, however briefly.

    At least she appeared to be quite regretful over the whole matter, her lips parting and closing wordlessly as he himself struggled over what ¡®greeting¡¯ to go for, considering the situation and his current state.

    Quite a difficult task, so it was not surprising that Tatyana spoke up before either of them.

    ¡°Well then. Kloel, meet Edmond, the man behind the costume.¡±

    So quick and casual was she to reveal the most delicate fact, that Edmond almost went for a habitual ¡®nice to meet you¡¯ and handshake.

    Instead, he considered just shaking Tatyana. The whole of her.

    I guess she trusts her a lot, but I never said I was good with someone else knowing!

    He looked anxiously from Kloel to Tatyana, then back to Kloel. The elf, after getting over her initial surprise, seemed to understand his plight as she glared at her friend in a nearly fed-up manner.

    ¡°Did you not even tell him I was coming here?¡±

    ¡°It kind of¡­ slipped my mind. I¡¯m sorry, okay? Really sorry.¡± Her earlier calm reaction seemingly a fa?ade, Tatyana hesitated just a tad before apologizing, to Edmond as much as to Kloel judging from her eyes darting between the two.

    Edmond sighed, his eyes drooping in slight resignation. Thinking a bit more thoroughly on the matter, his identity was probably obvious if these two had talked about him at all. And if they had not, was there any other way to explain whatever was going on here? Probably not.

    Feeling a little calmer, he replied with a somewhat small voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. If you trust her for real, I¡­ I don¡¯t mind Kloel knowing.¡±

    Satisfied with his initial words, Edmond quickly came to regret how the last part had come out. However, after some initial surprise, both Tatyana and Kloel showed no negative reaction to it, instead ranging from relaxed to somewhat pleased in their expressions.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± The former said as she seemingly finished with his front, then began to treat his back.

    ¡°You sure it¡¯s all good?¡±

    His reply serving to reassure him as much as it did them, Edmond had little trouble answering Kloel.

    ¡°Even leaving what I said aside, it¡¯s not like I have a better choice. The secret¡¯s out to you two, and I can¡¯t really change that. I¡¯d rather just work around this rather than stress everyone out.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I understand. I know it¡¯s just words, but I¡¯m not looking to cause you trouble at all.¡±

    The modesty in her assertion may have not been ideal, but it was surely better than some hollow vow. What made Edmond tense up was not her words, but rather the discomfort that she still failed to hide.

    Precisely the type of thing he wanted to prevent, but for now it seemed like it was here to stay.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m done here. Next up would be your legs.¡±

    Tatyana happened to bring up a perfectly timed distraction, but his burning cheeks made it rather unclear if that was a preferable topic.

    ¡°E-Err¡­ I¡¯ve had the gel on me for quite a while, so I think I can take care of that myself if you just leave the medical kit here¡­¡± Edmond said, his words gradually devolving into a mutter as he tried his desperate best to not sound rattled.

    Tatyana¡¯s response was an inquisitive frown, her gaze full of doubt that troubled him to no end.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Let him try. If you need anything just tell us, okay?¡±

    Surprisingly, it was Kloel who came to his ¡®rescue¡¯ this time. Though seeing that knowing grin on her face, her reasons to spare him such embarrassment were likely not too noble.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I will.¡±

    He would take what he could get, however.

    ¡°¡­ Alright then. If the sofa bed is good enough too, I¡¯ll just go get you a pillow and some blankets.¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s second statement caught Edmond completely off-guard.

    So it¡¯s just decided I¡¯m spending the night here?

    ¡°¡­ The sofa bed is okay¡­¡±

    Sure, it was the most logical solution, what with his current state making a trip back to his apartment a veritable ordeal and his reluctance to confront Claude in such a state.

    So why was it that it all still felt terribly nerve-wracking?

    ¡°Perfect. Then I¡¯ll just¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of that.¡± Kloel cut in. ¡°For you, it¡¯s about time we treat your injuries.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s nervousness, along with his embarrassment and any other thoughts beyond what had just been said, vanished by the next second.

    ¡°They¡¯re not that serious.¡±

    ¡°You think they¡¯re not serious, just how you thought those Thorns wouldn¡¯t be an issue. There could be delayed effects, poison or some other nasty shit for all we know, so just suck it up and let yourself be checked.¡±

    It was hard to recall any other time he had felt like such an enormous fool, considering everything he had let slide. Of all the questions he asked, as well as those he did not ask but still thought about, why did he not even wonder about the battle she had braved for his sake?

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll just go wait on your bed, then. My room¡¯s still a nasty mess.¡±

    ¡°That it is. Whatever, just go.¡±

    Tatyana stood up, almost exuding annoyance as she walked past the sofa bed and into the corridor on the other end alongside Kloel, entering the room next to the one Edmond had seen her exit earlier.

    All the while that happened, he kept his eyes on them without the slightest regard for how it might look. She had likely changed her shirt before he woke up, but now seeing a small portion at the base of her nape, alongside single-minded focus that allowed him to notice the unique tells in her step¡­

    She¡­ She¡¯s¡­

    ¡­ her back¡¯s mangled flesh burned itself into his consciousness.

    His gaze lingered for several seconds even after the door closed, moving away only when Kloel came back out with the promised set of blankets and pillow. He listened to her words and spoke back competently in the moment, but that was it.

    He leaned back awkwardly on the sofa bed when she left, eyes looking at the foreign ceiling without the slightest focus, and his mind even more lost.

    If¡­ If I let that sort of thing happen, if it happens because of me¡­ then why? Why do I do this? What¡¯s the point of me even trying to help people?

    For the first time, Edmond felt grateful for the pain and numbness overwhelming his body. If not for that, instead of simply taking off his suit¡¯s lower portion to check for and treat any wounds on his legs¡­

    Miss Lunaris¡­

    ¡­ he may have just shouted in his bottomless frustration instead.

    <hr>

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan now?¡± Kloel asked, clad in a thin-strapped camisole and shorts of a matching dark color.

    Luminous glyph on her left hand and medical gel on the right, she had little need for most other tools, considering they were static in shape unlike a malleable spell.

    Tanya¡¯s ponytail was now tied on her right side, slung past her shoulder and hanging in front of her chest. Her wounds were extensive, and while she had visibly applied some medical gel on herself to manage the worst of them, the collage of red and pink was still very visible.

    Three uneven gashes reached from Tanya¡¯s nape to the small of her back, crossed horizontally by two thicker ones toward the left. The heavy bruising seemed pretty tame in comparison, but Kloel was well aware that if not for the bleeding from the lacerations, a lot of the wet crimson would have been black and purple instead.

    Even now, just looking at the whole picture was crushing her heart with an unbearable weight, made even worse as Tanya uncharacteristically failed to restrain yet another painful grunt.

    Nonetheless, she was doing very well at letting Kloel do her job without issues, keeping her body perfectly still until the end of the treatment. Whenever that might be.

    ¡°Edmond and I aren¡¯t the only ones who got messed up. I wouldn¡¯t say I crippled any of the Thorns, but I did my best to let them have it before I ran off with him. Can¡¯t give you a precise time, but it¡¯ll take them several days; not just to heal, but also to plan around me as a new threat.¡± She replied quickly, seemingly using the conversation to endure the discomfort a little easier.

    Kloel knew from experience to take Tanya¡¯s estimates with caution, but she could not deny feeling somewhat relieved after hearing that.

    ¡°Should be enough time for you to heal up as well.¡±

    ¡°And Edmond too, with some luck. Until then, neither he nor I should be targeted. At least not to the extent of that death trap. Still, we should be careful.¡±

    Kloel¡¯s lilac eyes narrowed, her long, pointed ears waving up and down once, slowly.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ll keep in contact with him?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Do you have a problem with that?¡± Tanya inquired with barely masked aggression, making Kloel wonder again if she actually thought it would ever work against her.

    Only feeling annoyed as a result, she shook her head, barely in the peripheral vision of her friend¡¯s turned head.

    ¡°Why would I be? It¡¯s one thing to be against you getting into unnecessary trouble, but now you¡¯re involved, and things will splash back at you either way. Besides¡­¡±

    ¡°Hmm~?¡±

    Tanya inquired wordlessly, with a voice that made her satisfaction and interest extremely apparent. It was immature, mischievous, and maybe even a bit rude¡­ but also kind of adorable.

    Kloel sighed, letting a grin smoothly appear on her face as she continued.

    ¡°Now I know who the guy in this huge mess is. Adding you to the mix, there¡¯s no way I can oppose this and live with myself. Aaand done.¡±

    Tanya swayed slightly under her touch, her sharp eyes softening before she faced forward again, standing up from the bed and picking up the loose t-shirt she had brought to sleep in. She did wince and shut her eyes briefly, but there were no other issues as she slipped it on, then spoke.

    ¡°Klo, I don¡¯t regret today overall. Put me in this situation a hundred times over, and I will help Edmond out in each and every one. But¡­ I¡­ for treating you like I did, dismissing you like nothing, and in general just being a major bitch¡­ I¡¯m sorry. That I do regret.¡±

    Kloel suddenly stopped what she was doing, her lips closed without any effort, but still unable to open. Lilac eyes forced to blink consciously, she found it so difficult to contain her laughter.

    It was quite rare, but there were still times in which it was Tanya who left her speechless. Awkward, snappy, arrogant, senseless and extremely self-conscious. Even such a frustrating best friend could get her a little sentimental from time to time.

    ¡°How come you¡¯re not asking me for an apology instead? That guy¡¯s not just a waiter who¡¯s always been friendly to us, but also someone doing his best to help complete strangers. And yet when it came to me, I left him to the absolute worst¡­ I think, for once, I can probably learn something from you. But don¡¯t get used to it.¡±

    Her regret was genuine and had made it difficult to even look at Edmond in the eyes earlier. But as if wanting Kloel to add ¡®tactless¡¯ to the list of her friend¡¯s defining traits, Tanya showed her much worse, if existent at all, skill at restraining her own cackling.

    ¡°You sure it¡¯s something so noble that¡¯s making you feel bad, and not just the incidental eye-candy back there~?¡±

    The elf could not help herself anymore, promptly joining in with a smaller, but very free chuckle.

    ¡°Hey, I won¡¯t lie about the enticing things I saw, but you¡¯re the one who brought it up. How¡¯s that for a change~?¡±

    Tanya crossed her arms at her joke being turned right against her, glancing at the side with a slightly guilty grin as she walked back to the bed.

    ¡°Whatever. There¡¯s still a while to go before my back will let me sleep, so was it ¡®trash¡¯ or ¡®gold¡¯ for this week?¡±

    Kloel narrowed her eyes and let the most insufferable, teasing smirk rest on her face for way too long. But she decided to be nice this time, stopping at that only as she slid her fingers across her tablet, choosing the next ¡®trash¡¯ movie on their watch list for the month.

 II-1: Morning Crash

    Edmond woke up slightly annoyed, with light coming off the living room blinds at a bad angle for his face, even when they were mostly closed.

    The fact that that proved to be a bother he actively tried to ignore, as if it were possible, may have been good news for his mood in retrospect. However, a troublesome need to finally go to the restroom made his attempts futile.

    Please, please let me be able to just go on my own¡­

    If he were to need help merely relieving himself, his mood would have been shot even worse than when he pulled off the covers, saw his current state, and was reminded of a less-than-ideal state of ¡®cleanliness¡¯¡­ on top of his crushing loss and rather embarrassing patch-up last night.

    Of course, he had been sweating quite a bit even before the incident itself, and doubly so through his body¡¯s natural attempts to cope with the wounds he had sustained. Most of the blood had been wiped off, but a fair amount had still dried and stuck within the bandages on his arm, owing to the gash¡¯s depth. Add to that the traces of dust, dirt and such that had clung to him, and it all made for a very uncomfortable experience.

    Considering the fact he was also staying over at someone else¡¯s place, and right on their sofa bed, Edmond honestly would have preferred to still be in terrible pain instead.

    ¡°Good morning.¡±

    Hearing a voice suddenly greet him, Edmond lifted his gaze and noticed Kloel appearing almost like a ghost. Or at least that was his impression at first.

    Seeing her dressed in a thin, sleeveless top and shorts that only reached the middle of her thighs, he could not prevent his look from lingering for one second too long. With lovely dark skin peeking out in amounts he had not seen whenever they had met before, her rich black hair that looked so effortlessly silky, and a standout face even before she applied any make-up, it was probably only Edmond¡¯s anticipation of an event like this that allowed him to look away in a barely timely manner.

    I was right. It was a very bad idea to stay the night here!

    ¡°¡­ Good morning. Mind telling me what time it is?¡± He replied as calmly as he could manage, considering the chaos of his thoughts.

    ¡°Noon. It¡¯s not that late, so don¡¯t worry. Unless you¡¯re hungry or something¡­? Wait, no. You have¡­ a different discomfort.¡±

    Edmond fidgeted reflexively, hoping to all he could that his cheeks had not turned that red. Briefly biting his tongue, he replied.

    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to be so obvious.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not. I¡¯m just kind of squeamish too, so I notice easily. Think you can take a shower on your own?¡±

    Edmond finally turned back to his host, disbelief obvious in his eyes at the implications of such words. But from Kloel¡¯s desperate attempt to contain her laughter right after, it seemed like it had only been a mean joke.

    ¡°Pfft¡­ L-Look, you don¡¯t have to worry. Tanya obviously didn¡¯t want to use the same shower as my¡­ guests, so we just got a place with two of them. She and I normally use the one in her room, so there¡¯s no problem if you use the one at the end of the corridor.¡±

    Her next head-spinning statement, however, felt undeniably honest.

    By guests she means¡­ no, it¡¯s none of my business.

    Still, even if he ignored that, it was not that easy to accept her proposal. Despite all that had happened, taking a shower in the apartment of these two girls both felt embarrassing, and reeked of trashy entitlement.

    But when comparing that to his current state just a step shy of ¡®filthy¡¯¡­

    ¡°¡­ Are you sure it¡¯s fine?¡±

    Kloel sat down by the nearby table, running both hands through her slightly disheveled hair with eyes narrowed in annoyance.

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s all good. I have no reason to trick you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really have a change of clothes, though. Everything I have here is¡­ you know.¡±

    The elven girl¡¯s gaze raised to the corner for a second, as if she had not thought of that fact yet. She sighed soon after, standing back up from her seat a mere twenty seconds or so after taking it. Heading back to her room, she walked out a short time after with a lump of clothes in her arms, promptly placing them beside Edmond.

    ¡°They might be a tad larger than your usual, but it¡¯s not like they¡¯ll fall off or anything. Good enough?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Whose clothes are¡ª¡±

    ¡°Honestly, how uncomfortable you look there is really killing me. The smell is only a little bit of an issue.¡±

    A little bit is enough!

    Edmond¡¯s heart might have cracked from those words alone. Being interrupted hardly registered in his mind.

    ¡°Then thank you. A lot.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Just don¡¯t go overboard with the shampoo and such.¡±

    Hearing nothing he did not already have in mind, Edmond picked up the clothes and stood on his feet for the first time since last night¡¯s battle. Truth be told, he had been dreading this moment since he first woke up, expecting a joint or somethings else to crack once he did. Fortunately, the patch-up by Tatyana had prevented that outcome, if it had been possible at all.

    Not that the discomfort was not there, constantly prodding at a majority of his body like repeated, dull pinches. However, he could walk and move from one place to another, only occasionally having to lean or place his hand on a wall for support. His sideways glance noticed Kloel¡¯s attention drifting away from him, allowing him to relax somewhat as he passed by the thin third door in the corridor, toward the shower room.

    With Edmond¡¯s worries from last night not as forefront anymore, weird little aspects of the apartment such as that door, much like the interior design and clutter, stood out more to him. Saying the door was simply ¡®thin¡¯ did not do it justice, covering such little space that it gave off the impression of a janitorial locker. But when he compared it to the shower room¡¯s door in his sight, as well as the apparent bedroom doors he could look back at, it was the uniquely opaque, plastic-looking knob that drew his attention the most.

    A replacement. So this room is actually in use?

    ¡°Is there a problem?¡±

    Kloel¡¯s voice interrupted his idle pondering.

    ¡°I¡¯m good. Don¡¯t mind me.¡±

    Dispelling any unimportant thoughts, he resumed his walk and made it to the shower room.

    It was quite large despite not being the ¡®main¡¯ bathroom, per her explanation. Larger than his own, in fact, with immaculate white tiles, an equipped bidet and a large glass door for the actual shower area. Most impressive of all was the sweet, almost floral scent that greeted his nostrils.

    Well, this is new.

    Edmond locked the door behind him¡­ and took probably a full two minutes of thinking things over, unconsciously enjoying the smell before starting to undress. There was nothing difficult to think about, with towels, shampoo, soap and, of course, clothes all ready and available. The mat right outside the shower was also quite large, so there would be no discomfort or slipping problems once he removed his socks.

    Even after acknowledging all of that, it was still so difficult to just use one of these girls¡¯ bathrooms like nothing. Edmond ended up handling anything else he could possibly think of, starting with his nearly unbearable need to use the facilities, before finally hopping into the shower proper.

    Even so, the relief that came with it managed to overcome most of his stress, as well as the expected sting of the warm water pouring down on his aching wounds. Beyond just getting rid of all the nastiness that bothered him before, the overall experience felt therapeutic, allowing him to forget so many of his worries for at least a few minutes.

    Speaking of which, the plan was to make this shower a quick one, around three minutes at most. His failure was severe.

    By the time he dried himself and began to peel off the now wet bandages on his arm, Edmond noticed himself briefly smiling on the mirror despite the steam. But the sight, alongside his smile, did not last for long, as it was not particularly pleasant to look at the burns, bruises, lacerations¡­ traces of last night¡¯s struggle across his naked body.

    Instead, his focus wandered over to the bandage roll left near the sink alongside a pair of scissors, both seemingly the same that Tatyana had used last night. Finally feeling as relaxed as he probably could be in his current state, it was only mildly difficult to replace the wet, bloodied bandages he had removed for new ones. His attention then turned to the clothes Kloel let him borrow; a dark blue t-shirt with a faction emblem belonging to a trading card game he had some knowledge of, black sweatpants that felt just a tad too long for him, as well as boxer briefs and socks.

    Boyfriend¡¯s? But she lent them so freely... Mm, whatever.

    Deliberating for a moment, Edmond put them on with some inconvenience. For the moment, he left his dirty clothes atop the toilet lid and stepped out of the bathroom. Making his way down the hallway as inklings of his shame returned, he spoke up in an attempt to keep them in check.

    ¡°What do I do with my clothes?¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ Just leave them wherever you put them for now. Dunno if it¡¯s worth washing those anymore.¡±

    Kloel said while looking up from her recovered seat, enjoying cookies and soda despite the early hour.

    Elves had quite a different physiology from humans, so such habits were unlikely to be as unhealthy for them. Still, Edmond thought it was rather unfortunate to resort to such things before, or even as a replacement for breakfast.

    But there was something else that drew his attention to a similar extent.

    ¡°Is¡­ Tatyana busy or something?¡± He wondered casually, not seeing her around even after his longer-than-expected shower.

    He quickly came to regret his inquiry after seeing Kloel¡¯s expression twist with an amused, playful grin.

    ¡°Nah, she¡¯s just sleeping. May still be for an extra hour, or more. She really did her best this last couple of days, and straight up powered through that night after she¡­ you know what. That unlucky incident you two had.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Ah¡­¡±

    Edmond felt at a loss for words. Despite Tatyana keeping her explanations dry and succinct, he knew far more had to have happened for her to find him that quickly. But he had no idea she had gone as far as to neglect a full night of sleep, not with how strong and confident she looked over their whole exchange the previous night.

    Coupled with the image of her torn back that had yet to leave his mind, Edmond felt a regret that almost cut his breathing short.

    Whether it was due to that or any other reason, Kloel¡¯s smile soon gave way to a more serious expression.

    ¡°Look, she¡¯s just that kind of person, okay? She acts, and then thinks. Don¡¯t beat yourself up over her being an idiot.¡±

    Edmond frowned, even more regretful over making his feelings on the matter so obvious. But Kloel was right on one matter. It was futile, and even detrimental to ¡®beat himself over¡¯ it.

    Especially when there were things he could actually do about it, which he had been thinking of for a while now.

    ¡°Mind lending me the kitchen for a while?¡±

    ¡°Mm?¡± His request seemed to catch Kloel by surprise, her purple eyes blinking in a conspicuously quick manner. She pondered, then appeared to remember something before replying. ¡°It¡¯s cool with me, but we barely have anything in the fridge.¡±

    Edmond had already smiled widely the moment he heard her first words, approaching the kitchen with barely any regard for the latter.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll still make this worth your while.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Do you have any more?¡±

    ¡°I can make some m¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then get on with it!¡± Kloel insisted with a desperate, aggressive look. The contrast was violent with the previous, and subsequent eyes of pure joy she showed as she delighted herself in the plate.

    Edmond found it flattering, but also troubling. He had mostly improvised with what he found, whipping up a surprisingly balanced assortment of breakfast food, but not knowing how well they would exactly turn out had led to a modest first batch.

    Looking as elegant as always when she gratefully accepted the meal, Kloel had abandoned all of that the moment she took the first bite. Poached eggs atop a pan-fried, shredded mix of potatoes and onions, saut¨¦ed spinach with garlic, as well as ¡®remixed¡¯ sausage patties were devoured without regard for anything else, matched by repeated, almost indecent groans.

    She was fast too, almost being done with her plate and asking for more by the time Edmond had just served his own.

    ¡°Man, I really need to go to Concert at night someday. You should be on Aeon Chef or something!¡±

    ¡°Okay, now that¡¯s going too far. The people on that show are like, actual prodigies. They also have formal training and¡­¡±

    The sound of a door opening and closing, alongside the footsteps that followed, drew Edmond away from the conversation. His gaze was already near the corridor on the other side of the apartment, so it was only natural that he would notice the girl walking in.

    Or rather than ¡®walking¡¯, it may have been more accurate to say Tatyana was dragging her feet across the carpet. Brown hair loose unlike her usual style, with some rather noticeable traces of bedhead, she brushed some bangs aside in tired frustration. The turquoise eyes underneath were droopy, not relaxed but also lacking her characteristic frown.

    Her unkempt looks completed by a baggy purple t-shirt almost slipping down one shoulder and plaid pajama trousers, Edmond had already forgotten what he was talking about.

    ¡°Still looking terrible there. You sure you don¡¯t want to take an hour more or so?¡± It was rather fortunate that Kloel¡¯s attention had switched over to the new arrival as well.

    Tatyana delayed her response, first pulling a chair out with her foot until she could sit on it, elbows on the table and hands trying to rub some of the exhaustion out of her face.

    ¡°Food smells good. I¡¯m more hungry than sleepy.¡±

    Edmond almost let out a joyful expletive upon hearing Tatyana¡¯s casual compliment, though it was doubtful whether him not doing so was due to self-control, or the shock of seeing the girl reach for his plate as if her own.

    ¡°Hey that¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Likely from due to her very drowsy state, his words seemed to go right past Tatyana as she tore off a piece of sausage with her fork and ate it without concern.

    He stood frozen in place for a few seconds, then sighed, more in resignation than disappointment. Honestly, it did not matter much, as he had already decided to cook some more on Kloel¡¯s demand and would have also cooked for Tatyana soon enough. His own hunger was annoying, but eating last was the least he could do to answer the girls¡¯ hospitality.

    ¡°Mm, it¡¯s really good¡­¡±

    ¡°It better be, because you straight up snatched his plate.¡±

    Such a thought did not seem to even cross Kloel¡¯s mind as she addressed the issue very directly, if not downright aggressively with a tone like a reprimand.

    Tatyana looked at her with barely focused eyes, and after several seconds, realization hit her in a way that was even amusing to watch. Face reddened, mouth slightly agape before closing shut, darting pupils.

    ¡°Oh shit. I just, like, it¡¯s usually just the two of us so I was going through the motions and¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, really. I¡¯m making more anyway, so it¡¯s better if you take that one.¡±

    Considerate as he made his words sound, in all honesty, Edmond had spoken up to distract himself from a growing urge to chuckle. Seeing Tatyana in such an innocuous panic was certainly something else.

    Looking far less satisfied, she pursed her lips while gazing from Kloel to Edmond, and then to what was now her plate. She gripped her fork and pressed it down, tearing another, somewhat bigger piece of the sausage patty which she then pierced, and brought up.

    ¡°Here you go.¡±

    Not to her mouth, though.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    In disbelief, Edmond stayed still as he pondered for a few seconds. Not only him, but even Kloel opened her eyes wide in shock at what was now happening, without any warning.

    ¡°It¡¯s still not fair to have nothing at all. And if I don¡¯t make up for it in some way it¡¯ll piss me off.¡± Astonishingly, it was only Tatyana herself who seemed unaware, or completely uncaring about what her action looked like.

    Honestly, if she was like that, there was no way he could keep hesitating and be the one to make things awkward. Worrying over his attempt to act casual making him look even weirder, Edmond quickly leaned forward and ate the morsel of meat off Tatyana¡¯s fork.

    ¡°Thanks¡­¡± Feeling his cheeks warming up, he turned back to the kitchen as soon as he could.

    ¡°No need. Anyway, when did we buy patties like this, Klo? We should get them more often.¡±

    Kloel¡¯s expression shifted away from surprise, over to something closer to her habitual playfulness.

    ¡°Oh, these are just the normal sausages we got last time. Edmond over there made these wonders by opening them up and mixing them with a bunch of good stuff~!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just scallions and some sauce. They¡¯re already seasoned with a lot, so not much is needed to help out the flavor that¡¯s already there.¡± Edmond said matter-of-factly, aptly placing some more patties on the oiled pan to a satisfying sizzle.

    ¡°Is it the same for this? Shredding the potatoes and onions is already some work, but to even poach eggs¡­¡± Tatyana added quickly, inspecting said dishes oddly attentively.

    Edmond¡¯s expression tensed up, and the giggling he heard right after did not make it any better.

    ¡°¡­ I was trying to make a one pan dish. In the proper order to make use of residual flavors, the potatoes, onions and spinach made sense after I decided on the patties. But then I thought of how little cohesion the combination had with just those, and the egg needed just one extra pot so¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why are you justifying yourself?¡± Tatyana asked in confusion so genuine that it immediately shut Edmond up, and caused him to turn back to her. ¡°I was just surprised. It¡¯s¡­ well, very good.¡±

    Kloel scoffed shamelessly, rolling her eyes and causing Tatyana to glare at her quite scarily before the next bite of her breakfast made her frown slacken.

    ¡°It¡¯s not ¡®good,¡¯ it¡¯s delicious. It¡¯s even pretty, with how the yolk just drips when you cut it. Don¡¯t worry about Tanya, she¡¯s probably just annoyed about getting competition.¡±

    The stream of compliments made Edmond more nervous than elated, worrying him about some embarrassing blush or idiotic, involuntary smile spreading on his face. But it was the latter point that he was more interested in.

    Looking at Tatyana, seemingly trying to ignore Kloel by focusing on her food, he spoke up with a curious voice.

    ¡°You like to cook?¡±

    ¡°I hate cooking.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s hopes shattered with the same violence and ease as a rock would the thinnest window one could possibly build.

    Luckily appearing to not notice his massive disappointment, Kloel followed up on Tatyana¡¯s statement.

    ¡°She really does, but her skill is for real. She can make stuff as good as this or the pricier Concert dishes, but you¡¯d be very lucky to ever catch her in both the mood and with the ingredients she needs.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s this about ingredients? If I want to, I can make great stuff with whatever we have!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. That¡¯s not what you keep saying whenever I ask you to prep something as a favor.¡±

    ¡°Because you ask when I¡¯m just going to bed or when I just woke up! You¡¯re the one picking the worst times and¡­¡±

    The discussion taking place may have been escalating a little too much, but Edmond could not help but find it entertaining. He was also thankful for it allowing his chuckles to go by unnoticed as his focus returned to the food in the pan.

    Doesn¡¯t like doing it, but is still good, huh? Well, I¡¯ll just test my luck. Maybe I can learn something?

    Pondering what kind of dish Tatyana may end up making made his earlier curiosity return in full force, further motivating him as he planned a dessert.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Before he knew it, Tatyana and Kloel had exhausted their argument, and turned back to him with faces that practically begged for any other topic to talk about.

    ¡°So, what got you into cooking?¡±

    The question was more direct and significant than he expected. Caught off guard, Edmond waited until the shredded mix of potatoes and onions settled enough to be flipped before answering.

    ¡°Well, I have two younger siblings. Back in the day my¡­ mom had to work a lot, enough so that even prepping stuff the night before was an issue, and delivery was a bit awkward around our area. No one at our house really liked frozen meals, so I just convinced myself I could do better than that, and everyone would be happier.¡±

    Tatyana and Kloel briefly exchanged complicated looks, with Edmond only noticing by chance. From his obvious omissions, he had a good idea of what they were thinking about. But rather than uncomfortable or upset, he could only feel grateful that they held back any questions on the matter.

    Relaxing from how quickly that issue was solved, he went on.

    ¡°Then a good friend moved in with us. She¡­ didn¡¯t have the chance to eat much good food, so I started to get pretty passionate and did actual research for the first time. From then on, it just turned out to be really fun too. Even now, I think it¡¯s cool to just imagine and talk about food, then trying things out.¡±

    Practically tasting the caramel toast with orange zest in his head as he spoke¡­

    ¡°¡­ Hmm. Alright, now I¡¯m a bit mad. You have this whole novel about it, and then there¡¯s me who thinks of the whole thing as a chore, and just learned to eat tasty stuff.¡±

    ¡­ the illusion was broken by a reaction from Tatyana he probably should have expected.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with that! Look, eating good food is definitely the best part by far. It wouldn¡¯t be half as fun without that and¡ª¡±

    Edmond¡¯s regret over his rambling was almost immediate. It was not the first time people took his explanation this way, and it was just as frustrating each time. Embarrassing others about enjoying delicious food? There were few ways in which he could fail further, and he always fell in that trap.

    But when he turned his eyes to Tatyana, he only saw a smirk of enjoyment and a delighted glint in her big turquoise eyes.

    Edmond began to worry again. He wanted to look away before messing up in any or several of the ways he could easily think of, but this time he could not. Instead, with his actions so natural as to feel like auto pilot, he simply smiled back.

    Only a drop of hot oil splashing on his arm managed to bring his attention back to the pan.

    It took only a few minutes more before he served his own plate, as well as more of what Kloel and now Tatyana asked for. He sat down alongside them, and finally brought the first¡­ second bite to his mouth. He had gotten some from Tatyana before, and tasted things as he cooked, but it would have been a lie to say he was not plenty hungry still.

    For that same reason, it was only after getting halfway through his plate that his mind had significantly cleared up, and things of importance began to assert themselves among his thoughts. Feeling his expression growing more severe against his best wishes, Edmond spoke up.

    ¡°I¡¯d¡­ just rather address this earlier, rather than later. I think we need to talk about last night, and what might happen from now on.¡±

    Kloel and Tatyana looked less surprised than he expected. Less disappointed too. The former just put down her utensils and placed a plastic lid over her plate, while the latter continued to eat without issue, only switching the focus of her gaze over to him.

    They knew this was coming. Or maybe they already discussed it themselves?

    With one less hurdle in the way, Edmond tried to follow up, only to be cut off by Tatyana.

    ¡°If you¡¯re worried about being attacked again, that¡¯s very unlikely.¡±

    ¡°¡­ That¡¯s something I wanted to talk about, yes, but also...¡±

    This time, Kloel and Tatyana did show somewhat puzzled eyes. Edmond continued.

    ¡°¡­ aside from you two, there¡¯s someone else who knows of my ¡®activities¡¯.¡±

    Despite the obvious shame washing over his face, he still knew it was wrong to leave him out of the loop.

    ¡°Can he come over too?¡±

    <hr>

    Edmond nearly jumped on his seat at the couch when he heard the door opening. Looking up, he saw Kloel, now changed into a magenta turtleneck, a thin knee-length dress and stockings, as well as the person he had been dreading to see again.

    Claude Baudelaire only stopped briefly to take off his shoes, all the while his gaze settled on Edmond¡¯s own. A glare so profound that it made Edmond¡¯s chest ache.

    ¡°Want some water?¡± Kloel asked with a friendly, yet clearly performative tone.

    ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± Claude replied dryly.

    Green hoodie over a black t-shirt and dark gray sweatpants on him, he stepped up and dropped two backpacks at Edmond¡¯s feet.

    ¡°From last night.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­¡±

    He honestly would have preferred to just avoid this whole confrontation, or at least look away, but meeting his look directly was the least he should do. Edmond was fully in the wrong here.

    Claude¡¯s amber-like eyes shifted away slightly, some confusion present in them as they settled on the seat right next to Edmond. Likely due to the fact it was currently occupied.

    Now aware of an awkward problem that had somehow slipped his mind, Edmond quickly turned to the girl beside him. Changed into a light blue crewneck sweater over a violet shirt just barely sticking out of the bottom and black leggings, Tatyana just briefly looked up at Claude in acknowledgement to his presence, before leaning her head back without much interest. As far as Edmond could notice, she had no intention to move over as she crossed her long legs and lightly played with her just-done shoulder ponytail.

    He almost spoke up, but the brief time he needed to choose his words was enough for Claude to give up and sit down on one of the chairs near the dining table. Kloel promptly took a seat near him, four glasses of water placed on the table despite his earlier refusal.

    ¡°You better not leave any details out, especially on the part where a truck filled with porcupines ran you over.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­¡± Unable to retort in any meaningful way, Edmond began recounting last night¡¯s events.

    Having a specific goal did help with enduring his friend¡¯s unrestrained anger and disappointment, and though he did not ask for it, having Tatyana pitch in with her side of the events whenever possible was also useful.

    Claude¡¯s response came very quickly, not waiting even a full second once they had finished speaking.

    ¡°These people, with hardly any information to begin with, spent less than a full day preparing and mounting their attack. How are you so sure they won¡¯t strike again?¡±

    Huh? He¡¯s already done with my fuck-up?

    Shocked by what Claude chose to address first, Edmond could not match the speed of Tatyana reply.

    ¡°I never said I was sure, but it would be pretty stupid if they did. With the scare I gave them, they¡¯ll be thinking it¡¯s a death sentence to come after us before they heal up.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s enough for you?¡±

    Claude¡¯s insistent inquiry piqued Edmond¡¯s attention greatly, enough for him to also turn toward Tatyana. For some reason, maybe just the calm from the mostly pleasant morning, he had managed to ignore that worry despite it pricking at him since last night.

    The frustrated expression she showed made him wonder if she had been thinking similarly on the matter.

    ¡°¡­ It¡¯s not a guarantee. There¡¯s four Unmasked, and while three of them are certainly dangerous, I¡¯m confident my surprise attack could have taken one or two down for good. The fourth one¡¯s presence, though, made that impossible.¡±

    Strangely, without any further details given, a clear image manifested in Edmond¡¯s mind.

    That of a monstrously large beast of a man. The beautiful moon behind him like a twisted painting, as he broke through any obstacle he decided to target.

    Before he knew it, Edmond was already shivering.

    ¡°He¡¯s quite the brute on his own, and if that wasn¡¯t enough, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s the host of a demon.¡±

    ¡°¡­ He goes by Hellbound. Reports tend to agree with you, since several years ago.¡± Edmond added, barely having to think about it.

    With Kloel¡¯s and Tatyana¡¯s attention now on him, he rubbed his hands together nervously as he spoke again.

    ¡°I¡¯ve done research on the people I might end up meeting during my patrols, including all of those guys. Wouldn¡¯t be smart go out blindly.¡±

    A very audible scoff from Claude caused Edmond to turn around, his own eyes now the ones to frown. The brown-haired boy did not seem to care much, however, and continued the discussion without addressing him further.

    ¡°Fine then. If the biggest problem is this ¡®Hellbound¡¯, then just describe him the best you can, and Edmond can give me any relevant files he has copied. I¡¯ll get rid of him.¡±

    Almost before Claude even finished his sentence, a shameless cackle beside Edmond caused him to briefly shrink away. Even after she stopped laughing, Tatyana¡¯s eyes and grin conveyed the same sense of mockery.

    ¡°Look, even I would struggle to win against that juggernaut if we fought again. He¡¯s stronger than me, and you want to take him on your own?¡±

    ¡°Well, you said he¡¯s still injured. I¡¯m not. And who else is going to do it? Even if Edmond was in top shape, just surviving against the guy would be an achievement. As for you, you¡¯re quite hurt yourself¡­ and have done enough. Let¡¯s not forget you¡¯re the reason for this whole mess.¡±

    The venom with which Claude spat those words, as well as the hateful cold in his eyes, were such that not only Edmond found himself at an absolute loss for words, but even Kloel in his peripheral vision opened her eyes wide in shock.

    As for Tatyana herself, Edmond saw the girl frozen in place, astonished beyond the ability to reply at first. But when she did, what came out was a voice like a roar, with a face twisted in insult.

    ¡°What¡¯s your problem!? I know I screwed up, but I¡¯m doing my best to make up for it!¡±

    ¡°Looking for a medal? You can help all you want now, but you still stabbed my friend because you didn¡¯t feel like thinking anything for more than a second. What you did still happened, and you can just look at him for the proof.¡± Claude, however, did not miss a beat and continued his merciless tirade without hesitation.

    ¡°¡­ You fucking asshole. You want to go that badly? Fine by me. I¡¯ll show you just how out of your league you are, and then I will handle the Thorns problem!¡±

    Tatyana stood up so violently the couch shivered, with Claude not falling a single second behind despite his relative calm.

    There were no bluffs involved. Things would definitely escalate if the two of them were left to their own devices. Knowing even the slightest delay was dangerous at this point, Edmond raised his voice as quickly as he could.

    ¡°Claude, you¡¯re just being cruel now! She literally saved my life and still wants to help more! You¡¯re really going to keep giving her grief now of all times!?¡±

    ¡°Tanya, you need to fucking relax! If you really feel as remorseful as you say, then just suck it up if someone calls you out! You should know what you did hurt more people than just Edmond!¡±

    Claude turned to Edmond with frustrated eyes, as Tatyana likely did at Kloel. But that frustration soon became obvious surprise, one that even Edmond shared, at the odd match of their attempts to defuse the conflict.

    Tatyana began to grumble and Claude glared one time more, but from the simultaneous reproach, and perhaps some perceived sense of strange fairness, both ended up back on their seats after a few seconds.

    Silently and gently, Kloel pushed the glass of water nearest to Claude further toward him. This time, he took it with a hesitant, but mostly relaxed grasp.

    Edmond himself looked at Tatyana, who could only meet his glance for a moment before turning away. The pressure she endured, the same rubbish from her guilt-ridden words last night, was obvious enough to annoy Edmond. Even more frustrating was his inability to think of a way to solve that, to make her properly acknowledge all she had done for him.

    Failing to come up with any satisfactory answers, Edmond simply swallowed up his self-consciousness and shifted on his seat, settling close enough to Tatyana for their legs to briefly brush up together. Maybe that could show his appreciation, his comfort with her even in a small, innocuous way.

    ¡°Anyway¡­ If it¡¯s not impossible that the Thorns will attack again, and you don¡¯t think I can take care of the Hellbound problem, then what¡¯s supposed to happen now?¡± Claude inquired with a noticeably softer voice, though Edmond did not know if it was from a lighter mood or just the water he drank.

    ¡°Well, having you aware of the problem makes things more convenient. At first, we considered having Edmond stay over until we both healed up completely.¡±

    Say what!?

    Either unaware or just uncaring for Edmond¡¯s panicked expression, Kloel followed Tatyana¡¯s words.

    ¡°He said you two live in the same apartment building, though. The main priority is to have someone nearby to help and serve as back-up until he and Tanya recover, so while we should have an easy way to communicate, you can watch him at your place and I¡¯ll handle her at ours.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need anyone to protect¡ª¡±

    ¡°In the meantime, we¡¯ll gather what we already know on the Thorns and research beyond that. However we look at it, it¡¯s only a matter of time before they also heal up and try to mess with Edmond again, as well as Tanya now. But that¡¯s only if they don¡¯t have something more difficult to deal with.¡±

    Claude¡¯s eyes widened slightly at Kloel¡¯s words. Edmond also understood something from them, and promptly raised an anxious voice.

    ¡°Look, if you mean we should tell the police what we know, hoping they will increase pressure on them, that¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know you¡¯re worried about your ¡®secret identity¡¯ stuff. Even if you¡¯ve been helpful overall, I doubt the cops have taken kindly to a vigilante. But we have some time to build a narrative that can keep you safe, while letting us feed the police all the info they need to make the Thorns¡¯ lives hell. Worst case scenario¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ We¡¯ll go all out. Strike them down by surprise.¡±

    Tatyana cut in assuredly, her gaze almost red-hot. Kloel sighed and continued.

    ¡°Right. Tanya doesn¡¯t think they¡¯ll heal any slower than her and Edmond, but we still have one advantage. Unless they¡¯ve added someone else very recently, we know everyone in their Unmasked group. Meanwhile, they don¡¯t know about Claude and me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d help with the attack?¡± Claude wondered audibly, surprised to a degree that was rather unusual.

    It only made Kloel glare at him in a way Edmond had never seen before, though.

    ¡°Please stop trying to prove Tanya right about you. Sure, I¡¯m not really close to Edmond, but my friend is part of this too. I have a stake here.¡±

    Claude replied quickly and naturally, as if not noticing, or caring about the severe change in Kloel¡¯s mood.

    ¡°If Nesterova on her own did that much damage, then I guess the four of us blitzing them by surprise might just do it. But as you mentioned, they could have more dangerous people the police don¡¯t know of yet. Even your first plan is still dependent on getting more information than what we have now. It¡¯s easy to just say we can gather it in a few days, but doing it is a whole different matter. Overall, you¡¯ve been talking about a whole lot of things and just assuming they¡¯re all feasible.¡±

    His assessment was strict, unkind and even cold, but even Edmond could not protest it. Claude was just being logical, his concerns and criticism sound. Listing what they needed to do without knowing the ¡®how¡¯ was hardly useful.

    Kloel¡¯s angry eyes relaxed, as she seemed to focus on something else. Now bringing two fingers to her neck, Edmond felt Tatyana tense up beside him, though she tried to calm down after a brief, yet soft glance from Kloel.

    A minuscule magic circle appeared and dissipated into particles of indigo light, fast enough that Edmond might have missed them if he were looking from a few extra meters away. What was revealed at the side of Kloel¡¯s neck was not nearly as inconspicuous, though.

    A pattern raised in scab-like texture, of a color akin to lacquer. The ugly scarring was garbled, but the imitation of a crowned pine tree in simple line drawing was still very noticeable to anyone who recognized the symbol.

    ¡°Shadow Spot. A former associate, I assume?¡± Claude asked, emphasizing the most important concern.

    ¡°Dead on, but not for the reasons you might think. They weren¡¯t the ones to mangle it up, and it just happened when I tried to remove it, no matter how hard or carefully I tried. Nasty bunch, they really like to make you regret denying them.¡±

    As if talking about an old, irrelevant bullying incident, Kloel smiled and brought her hand back down. Prana gathered into the shape of the previously seen magic circle and vanished gradually, leaving her neck spotless once more.

    Shadow Spot. Almost too large and widespread to still be considered a ¡®gang¡¯, the dangerous group of elves and any allies they deemed worthy lived outside the law across several countries. Such was their way of taking revenge on the system they hated.

    From what Edmond had heard, different branches were essentially independent, but the one in Seyfelt alone was still powerful enough to rank among the top local gangs.

    Uncomfortable with his instinctive guessing on what might have led Kloel to run and part with them, he was extremely relieved when she continued talking.

    ¡°I¡¯m no gangster, but I still know my fair share of the business. With the time we have, I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯ll be enough to get the cops on the Thorns¡¯ heels. When that happens, they¡¯ll have no choice but to forget about Tanya and Edmond.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Alright.¡±

    In an uncommon display of nearly full satisfaction, Claude simply nodded and expressed his approval. Tatyana held a complicated expression in her eyes, like doubting whether her friend needed to reveal that part of her past, but she did not argue.

    Edmond may have been the only one still very concerned about something else.

    ¡°I think that covers everything relevant. I don¡¯t mind if you two stay just to hang out, but you can also go if¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wait a sec!¡±

    The cut off Kloel was not the only one to turn with confusion in her eyes. Normally, being the sudden center of everyone¡¯s attention would have been slightly uncomfortable for Edmond, but this time he could not have thought less of it.

    ¡°We haven¡¯t talked about the stolen weapons.¡±

    ¡°¡­! Yeah, you mentioned that befo¡ª"

    ¡°I saw that too. The night I was arrested, they also took in a masked Thorn who had an Alpha-class javelin.¡±

    Tatyana added quickly, without even allowing Claude to finish.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ quite concerning.¡±

    Contrasting them, Kloel spoke in an off-handed, if still worried manner.

    ¡°But is it so surprising? Gangs loot, they take what new members bring with them, and sometimes even make tools of their own. Is this something new?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Edmond replied. ¡°Even if just at street level, I¡¯ve been dealing with Thorns for months now, and they¡¯ve never used such advanced equipment until now. If that¡¯s not enough, a clerk at the armory told me there was missing gear that might have been stolen, something serious enough for instructor Van Svelten to have to check things out.¡±

    More unease washed over Kloel¡¯s face the more she heard what Edmond had to say. Her eyes pondered briefly, then she muttered.

    ¡°So this means that either the Thorns found a way to break into the armory, or perhaps¡­ they got an insider to provide for them.¡±

    ¡°If the amount or power of the stolen gear is enough for an instructor to investigate, then this could be very serious, especially if they get to steal more. Most police equipment is weaker than that used by knights, and whatever these guys are taking not only increases the Violet Thorn¡¯s strength, but also weakens the facility.¡± With each point he brought up, even Claude began to show traces of apprehension in his stoic face.

    As for Tatyana, her expression had barely changed. Perhaps knowing some stability would help with the anxiety-ridden air, she frowned and narrowed her eyes as per usual.

    ¡°If they get all that extra power, changing the city¡¯s status quo so drastically¡­ then there¡¯s no telling what new moves they might make.¡±

    And yet, her actual contribution to the conversation might have been the most alarming of all.

    <hr>

    The discussion lasted at least an hour more, with the new, unusually dire situation leaving all their plans feeling insufficient still.

    Now changed into the clothes in one of his backpacks, those he had worn before suiting up last night, Edmond knocked on the door to Tatyana¡¯s room. Around ten minutes ago, she had left the living room to check an unspecified something on her own.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    Edmond felt a little nervous after not hearing the ¡®come in¡¯ or ¡®not now¡¯ he expected. Nonetheless, after so many similar instances since last night, he had gotten quite used to it and entered the room regardless. The door was unlocked, after all.

    He quickly became aware of how problematic his thought process had been, but it was too late for regrets. He now stood right beside Tatyana, who sat before her computer.

    At least she¡¯s not mad. I guess I still lucked out?

    ¡°So?¡± She prodded with a sideways glance.

    ¡°Claude and I are going home, so I wanted to say goodbye. And¡­ thank you.¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you done that enough? I swear it¡¯s like the twelfth time.¡± Tatyana said with a chuckle.

    While finding nothing funny in it, Edmond still showed a childish smile at her laugh alone.

    ¡°And? I could go over the hundreds and it still wouldn¡¯t repay you two for what you¡¯ve done.¡±

    ¡°Did you forget I¡¯m just making up for my big fuck-up? That friend of yours made it very clear ¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ er, right. I¡¯m really sorry about him. Claude¡¯s just one of those people with ¡®filter¡¯ issues, and he¡¯s been really worried about my activities recently so he was just venting at the worst time¡ª¡±

    Another giggle interrupted Edmond, this time a little frustratingly.

    I guess she¡¯s not that hung up about it?

    Tatyana spun on her chair, now facing him with a big grin.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I can be like that too¡­ sometimes, so I¡¯ll forgive him this one time. Has he known for a long time?¡±

    Edmond¡¯s annoyance subsided, gray eyes softening as his smile returned, even if smaller than before.

    ¡°Since the moment we met, so a little over two years.¡±

    ¡°Huh¡­ Unexpected. You already wore the costume back then?¡± Tatyana asked while glancing over at the heavier-looking backpack Edmond carried.

    He turned to it for a moment as well, with a dark sort of nostalgia welling up inside him.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a costume, and no. I got it some time after.¡±

    ¡°Will it even do the job anymore? I chose to not go through the trouble of cutting it when treating you, but it had a pretty rough time during the fight.¡±

    The more they spoke about it, the more his chest tightened. The memories of his first year as a crime-fighter may have been nostalgic, but they were not exactly pleasant.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. At this point, I might as well see it through to the end.¡±

    When he looked back at Tatyana, he saw the inklings of confusion and even panic on her face.

    Had he been too obvious? Wearing his emotions on his sleeve? A sigh of irritation at his mistake almost escaped.

    ¡°¡­ Right. If you¡¯re leaving now, there¡¯s something I should give you back.¡±

    Probably trying to shift the mood in any different direction she could, Tatyana stepped away from her chair and toward the corner of her room. She picked up a small, familiar bag, then placed it on his instinctively extended hand.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t get the chance to tell you, but those are some impressive spellwork. It¡¯s still like patchwork, with so much redundancy packed in just to make the key parts work, but even without knowing the usual necessary techniques, you managed to meld like three schools of sorcery and¡ª¡±

    ¡°How the fuck did I forget them!?¡±

    Edmond could only scream in regret, dread and anger at his stupidity, realizing he had completely forgotten about his containment marbles.

    ¡°Holy shit, you¡¯ve got some lungs on you.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get it! They¡¯re not stable at all in the barrier or rune aspects! I need to reroute the prana flow at least once every few hours or they¡¯ll set off on their own!¡±

    ¡°I know, twerp! But Kloel and I clearly took care of it, don¡¯t you see!?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the point! If you didn¡¯t figure out how they worked, or if I had left some at home, it would¡¯ve been a disaster for everyone! I need to add another failsafe¡­ no, the real problem is still just me forgetting! Maybe I can set up an alarm and¡­¡±

    Edmond completely lost track of time, assaulted by a pincer-like sense of urgency and anxiety. On one end worrying over solutions, on the other mauled by laments over his error.

    It took Tatyana stepping up even closer, showing a forced, crooked smile and eyes that seemed to question Edmond¡¯s sanity, for him to somewhat get over himself.

    ¡°¡­ Well, if you¡¯re still on about paying me back for last night, this whole freak-out is more than enough. To think big bad Nemesis was this much of a spaz¡­¡±

    Though it was a specific word that got to him, rather than her expression.

    ¡°¡­ Nemesis who?¡±

    ¡°Mm? Nemesis you.¡±

    ¡°No, but like, what do you mean?¡±

    The fact Tatyana genuinely looked as confused as he felt only made the situation all the more bizarre.

    ¡°You don¡¯t ego-search?¡±

    ¡°Look, I asked first, so please give me some context and not another question.¡±

    Tatyana clicked her tongue, glared at Edmond as if he was the petty one, and spoke again after a few seconds in which he refused to back down.

    ¡°¡®Nemesis¡¯ is the name a bunch of the people you¡¯ve helped started calling you, or¡­ well, the ¡®you¡¯ in costume.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Nemesis as in¡­ Nemesis the Vagrant?¡±

    ¡°Yes. They said it was a perfect fit.¡±

    Edmond felt himself growing steadily dizzy. His vision dimmed intermittently, a cold shiver quickly rippled across his body while his cheeks felt like a growing forest fire.

    ¡°Don¡¯t screw with me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not! Look, I¡¯ll just show you.¡±

    In his current state, Edmond could not resist as Tatyana roughly grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him down onto her chair. Turning it toward the computer, she browsed for only a few seconds before displaying a page from a public contribution information site.

    One that showed a picture of a shadowy silhouette, during nighttime to make matters worse. And yet, if there was one person in the whole world who could notice the key identifying traits in the figure, that person was Edmond.

    As for the title at the upper left corner of the page?

    Nemesis.

    ¡°See?¡±

    Even with Tatyana right beside him, Edmond could not hold back once his mind finally started working again.

    ¡°Aaaaaahhh! Wh-Why!? Why that name!? Why any name at all!? Couldn¡¯t I just be, like, Seyfelt Vigilante Case #14 or something!?¡±

    Edmond brought both hands to his face, pressing his cheeks and covering his eyes to forget the sheer embarrassment and get rid of the mocking mirage before him. Neither happened.

    ¡°Dude, relax. It¡¯s not that big of a deal.¡±

    ¡°It is! Now anyone who checks this out will think of me as some cartoon psycho! That or a lame, ugly, incompetent LARPer of a children tales character!¡±

    ¡°¡­ Honestly, you¡¯re just making me think you actually like Nemesis the Vagrant, and that¡¯s why you don¡¯t want to be compared to them.¡±

    The dry, monotone and matter-of-factly way in which Tatyana brought up her guess all but confirmed she was not trying to mock him. A cruel honesty that just made Edmond blush even more.

    ¡°Besides, the least you can do before throwing a tantrum is check what these people are actually saying.¡±

    ¡°Why would I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shh. Twenty seconds of silence, and just read this.¡±

    Instead of Tatyana¡¯s shushing, it was her tight, pinch-like grasp on his nape that both forced Edmond to stay silent and to look at the new page on display. A community message board, with a comment thread discussing ¡®Nemesis.¡¯

    Forcing himself to look at the screen, knowing it to be the quickest way to get out of the situation, Edmond¡¯s gaze stopped for a moment. Frozen on a specific post, a vivid memory resurfaced as he read it. His awkward trembling stopped.

    His eyes moved further down, and he recalled another from the next post, then three more. Only unassuming usernames tagged the messages, but Edmond somehow recalled faces and voices from them in increasing number. The warmth in his face receded, and instead spread across his body in a pleasant manner.

    Before long, he was not only scrolling down on his own, but could hardly even remember what had bothered him in the first place. Not all comments were positive, but they only intensified what he felt once he saw others jump to his defense.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a face. Looks like a little ego-surfing doesn¡¯t hurt, huh~?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re¡­ so grateful. I really¡­ I really helped them out, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    The corners of Edmond¡¯s mouth began aching slightly, but he could not have cared less. He saw Tatyana¡¯s teasing expression abruptly falter once he turned to her, but she did not seem to be all that bothered as in its stead, she showed a smile of surrender.

    ¡°You really need to ask?¡±

    Edmond chuckled in response, his eyes darting back to the screen in slight embarrassment. One that for once, he did not mind all that much.

    Nemesis¡­ it would be a lie to say it did not sound a little childish, even pretentious. But it would have been an even bigger lie to say it was not an honor, a sign that several people, even if less than ten, thought he had saved them. An honor that he was determined to cherish.

    When he reached the end of the thread, however, Edmond¡¯s mood that had not been better in so long was tainted by confusion. The last comment, posted only a few hours ago, had him completely perplexed.

    ¡°¡­ What¡¯s the matter?¡±

    Enough so for Tatyana to notice almost immediately.

    ¡°You tell me. What even is this?¡±

    Edmond stole a glance at Tatyana¡¯s face that had snuck up right beside his, and saw no more understanding in it.

    The post could not be read, or at least it was not similar to any language Edmond knew of. The letters themselves were distorted, with no patterns he could fully discern, and only reminded him of text designs used for stylistic reasons in novels, or more commonly for humorous online posts. Still, the more he looked at it, the more he seemed to notice certain traits that made him think of¡ª

    ¡°Could it be a runic code?¡±

    Tatyana spoke what had just come to his mind with a timing that was almost funny.

    ¡°What¡¯s taking so long?¡±

    ¡°Just let them be, there¡¯s no hurry.¡±

    Claude entered the room with a seemingly annoyed Kloel following right behind. Edmond wasted no time as he turned and addressed his friend.

    ¡°Do you know anything about these letters?¡±

    ¡°Letters?¡±

    Claude expressed confusion at first, but took a look of his own at the screen without much delay. Not waiting for someone to ask the same of her, Kloel quickly scooted over as well. Edmond noticed quite soon that four people huddled together to look at the same, small-ish computer screen was a little suffocating.

    ¡°¡­ They''re code for sure. There¡¯s enough obvious traits to figure that much out, but I don¡¯t think I can even begin to decrypt it.¡± Claude¡¯s voice revealed obvious annoyance.

    ¡°If it¡¯s a runic language, it¡¯s archaic. It definitely doesn¡¯t belong to any of the commonly used ones.¡± In contrast, Kloel seemed interested more than anything else.

    Either way, no one knew anything, much to Edmond¡¯s own frustration. Perhaps noticing that, Claude spoke up again.

    ¡°It¡¯s still very suspicious. I¡¯ll try to check with obscure sources I know of, but I don¡¯t think I would be drawing such a blank if something of use was there.¡±

    ¡°Nah, don¡¯t worry. There¡¯s still someone else I can ask.¡±

    Three people turned to Edmond as he said so, but no one seemed aware of what he meant. Surprised he had to explain further, Edmond spoke clearly.

    ¡°Instructor Van Svelten, the prodigy in runes.¡±

 II-2: Piece of the Heart

    ¡°¡­ But make no mistake. While runes are certainly powerful, even their long history of research and polish has not allowed them to break through certain limitations. They¡¯re limited in space, both in regard to the symbols drawn and the amount of prana that can be stored, depending on the material used. The need for proper conductive potential can also be a double-edged sword, as the stored prana can seep away through the passage of time and the high prana density in some areas may cause dangerous accidents.¡± Throvim Van Svelten lectured in a very good mood, clearly enjoying his time away from the holographic board.

    This study hall, just like most others in the facility, was rather standard-looking compared to the architecture outside. Aside from the glyphs on the instructor¡¯s desk, of which only some lit up at any given time in accordance to the desired prana display, the room would not have looked out of place in a more normal university.

    A cadet seated on the second row raised her hand, though the olive-haired instructor did not even spare a glance and merely acknowledged her through a chin gesture.

    ¡°Err¡­ Mr. Van Svelten, if a sorcerer doesn¡¯t need to keep any constant connection or upkeep for a rune, does that mean having a lot of runic equipment could be a solution to regulator limitations? Wouldn¡¯t they be able to use all those spells at once, whenever needed?¡±

    ¡°Mm?¡±

    Seated on the front row, Edmond heard the question loud and clear. His interest in the lesson, while quite high all the way through, had definitely peaked now.

    But Throvim seemed less thrilled, narrowing his eyes as he sighed, then forcing a mildly understanding smile on his face.

    ¡°Well, when it comes to runes, it¡¯s true that prana consumption is reduced to only what the activation itself needs. That is, if the rune has enough prana inside of it. You also only need enough concentration for said activation, regardless of the actual spell the rune contains. But while a rune can be seen as an automated spell, one still needs to be able to cast that spell when actually constructing the rune. Not to mention what keeping track of all those runes means, as well as performing maintenance should external conditions warrant it.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I¡­ I see¡­ Thank you, sir?¡±

    The second-year cadet slumped back with the face of someone who had unintentionally messed up, not made any better by a couple of her girl friends teasing her from the row right behind.

    Isn¡¯t that just avoiding the question? I mean, what he said is important of course, but it¡¯s not really what she asked about¡­

    On his end, Edmond was quite a bit disappointed. Then again, with the lecture having switched over to the limitations of runes, it was understandable that Throvim would try to keep things on topic himself.

    Two days had passed since his debrief with Claude, Kloel and Tatyana. His injuries were far from fully healed, with showers, bedtime and even cooking still being absolute struggles. Nonetheless, he still felt much better, and with Kloel¡¯s help with some smart make-up, Edmond doubted anyone would suspect anything beyond overtraining or a small accident.

    Deciding to consult Throvim was easy enough, but actually reaching out to the instructor was completely different. His advising hours were limited in the first place, and they had all been booked for the following week. However, Edmond was fortunate enough to have this class with him at the end of the day, allowing him to possibly bypass the unexpected roadblock.

    ¡°Alright. If that¡¯s all, then we¡¯re done with the material for today. Don¡¯t forget to research the age and key traits of at least three runic languages for our first practice session next week.¡±

    Feeling a sudden sense of urgency from the lecture¡¯s abrupt conclusion, Edmond raised his hand quickly, but Throvim seemed to not notice. Instead, he stored the few belongings he had brought within a spatial distortion rune in his long sleeve, right as he began taking his leave.

    You¡¯re kidding me!

    ¡°Mr. Van Svelten!¡±

    Things somehow took a turn for the worse as the other cadets began to follow his lead, not only making it harder for the instructor to even see his outstretched hand, but also to hear Edmond¡¯s call. The olive-haired sorcerer left the room calmly, with Edmond¡¯s compensation being little more than sympathetic glances from a few fellow trainees. He thought to have heard one of them try and call for Throvim as well, but whether it was an attempt to help or a concern of their own, it also failed.

    Edmond almost grumbled in annoyance as he finished getting his belongings back into his bag, and hurriedly stepped toward the study hall¡¯s exit. Leaving a few off-handed apologies on his way, he knew losing Throvim at this time could set his plans significantly behind.

    Luckily, he kept sight of him upon exiting the room, and while he had to regrettably push some people out of the way, he finally reached the instructor.

    Good thing he¡¯s not surrounded by celebrity chasers anymore!

    ¡°M-Mr. Van Svelten!¡± Edmond almost cried out.

    He could not have been more relieved once he saw the handsome knight turn to him, even if his eyes looked a little more confused than he thought fair.

    ¡°You are¡­?¡±

    ¡°Bach, sir. Feel free to call me Edmond. I have an important question for you, and I know you have a busy schedule so I promise it won¡¯t take much time.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Very well, then. What is it?¡±

    After the confused, and then pondering gaze Throvim had shown until now, Edmond could not deny the joy he felt once the instructor showed a considerate smile.

    Though there was still one issue that had been overlooked.

    ¡°Err, should we get out of the building first?¡±

    That being, the many people walking past them as they headed to whatever business they had. Standing in the middle of the hallway with Throvim, Edmond felt more than a tad uncomfortable.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say it wouldn¡¯t take much time?¡±

    The man himself did not seem to care nearly as much, however. Knowing better than to waste more of the instructor¡¯s time and that further discussion would only keep them in such a position even longer, Edmond powered through the awkwardness and showed a picture on his phone.

    ¡°I was doing some research to prepare for today¡¯s lecture, and came across this curious pattern.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Did it come from some conspiracy theory site? You probably fell for a fake, Bach.¡±

    ¡°¡­! R-Really?¡± Edmond felt a cold sweat run down his back, an embarrassed half-smile appearing right after.

    The image on display was not the message in the Nemesis discussion board. Among the four cadets who had seen it, everyone agreed about the possibility of the coded contents being potentially dangerous, whether it was the information itself or the possibility it said something offensive.

    Thus, in anticipation of asking for Throvim¡¯s assistance, Edmond and the others had dedicated a fair share of time to forging a flawed imitation, while doing their best to retain as much of the ¡®style¡¯ as possible so that the instructor may be able to recognize something.

    Of course, there was the risk that it would just look like a mock-up, but the possibility should have been pretty small, even if a devastating result should it happen.

    ¡°I-I mean, I was told that as well by my recruiter, so I tried to check for more and I did find a few more sites with similar patterns. Are you absolutely certain it¡¯s just a fake?¡±

    ¡°Either that, or it¡¯s some obscure herald crest.¡± Throvim answered without sparing a second glance at the image.

    Edmond¡¯s immediately honed into the unfamiliar term.

    ¡°A herald crest?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an antiquated term for unique runic languages, back when it was common for most sorcerers to invent their own and pass them down only to their personal disciples.¡±

    That¡­ somehow just sounds unnecessary. And silly.

    He almost felt betrayed when hearing the actual, disappointing explanation.

    ¡°Why was that ever popular?¡±

    Edmond¡¯s contempt came out a tad more obviously than he would have wished, causing Throvim to chuckle slightly before speaking again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know why you think so badly of it. Not every practice comes out of necessity or strict utility. Legacy on its own is a great motivator, and that kind of signature is a pretty fun way for talented people to be remembered. It¡¯s another way for them to transcend their time.¡±

    The unexpected level of zeal shown by Throvim briefly left Edmond at a loss for words. More humbled than embarrassed now, he glanced aside for a moment as he struggled over how to continue.

    ¡°I see¡­ I¡¯m sorry. Most traditions do have something to be respected for, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry. Many people don¡¯t really understand it.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s eyes narrowed, unhappy with the disconnect between Throvim¡¯s friendly tone and his¡­ not friendly words.

    ¡°If this is one of those herald crests, do you think you could decrypt it?¡±

    ¡°I mean, sure. But even if it were me, it might require several minutes of work, or even digging up some of my older notes. Still, I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re wasting both of our times with this, Bach.¡±

    He forgot anything about his annoyance upon hearing something shocking.

    ¡°¡­ Wasting time? Sir, this is actually related to an important issue¡ª¡±

    ¡°You mentioned that earlier, but that¡¯s not really the point. Naturally, I checked the relevant cadet files ahead of today, so I know which people have a future with runes in our class, Bach. You¡¯re not one of them, seeing as you even had to remind me of your name.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me!?¡±

    This guy is worse than Claude!

    Even with Edmond so visibly upset, Throvim did not raise his voice or even stopped smiling. In fact, his brow softened as if to prove an intent to make things better.

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to offend you, Bach. Don¡¯t misunderstand me. But it¡¯s a reality that some people don¡¯t have aptitude for certain things, so if this is such an important problem, then it would be better if you approached it from another direction. If you know I¡¯m busy, and I have no doubt your time is also limited, you should not waste it with a really complex subject matter like runes.¡±

    ¡°Look, I know it¡¯s not my forte, but I don¡¯t see how that¡­ W-Wait up¡ª!¡±

    Parting words standing out for their absence, Throvim simply left toward the building¡¯s door. As if he had simply said all he had to, pleasantries being unnecessary inconveniences.

    ¡­ Whatever.

    Edmond closed his eyes and sighed, leaning back on the wall and finally making things easier for the nearby passersby. As if the disappointingly scarce amount of information he got was not enough, Throvim¡¯s words stung more than he wished.

    In hindsight, his brief outburst was very unusual. Edmond liked to think of himself as mostly polite, and tried to uphold that attitude whenever he could. Raising his voice at an unexpected slight, let alone in front of so many people, was something that made him want to groan in shame as soon as he remembered it.

    ¡­ Am I doubting something?

    He pondered, looking slightly up at nothing in particular.

    He regretted it immediately. Even after two days, regardless of what he tried to distract himself with, the image of the Violet Thorn¡¯s Unmasked continued to resurface. Failing that, it was the terrible wound on Tatyana¡¯s back that kept hounding him. More than the pain from his hurt body, such things meant the most trouble when trying to sleep or cook.

    Edmond lowered his eyes, toward the exiting cadets numbering significantly less than before.

    I haven¡¯t checked the gyms here, have I?

    The very idea of just trying another training session in his current state was dreadful. However, even that was preferable to wasting time wallowing like this.

    Putting power in his step, he finally headed out of the building.

    <hr>

    Edmond was surprised to find no people in the very first gym he visited, out of four the facility had. It was his hope that this would be the case, but as of recently, his hopes had not been answered so easily.

    I guess people aren¡¯t in the mood during the first day, much less at the end of it.

    All things considered, he himself was not in the best shape for a hard workout either, but losing his training habits was bound to have the worst consequences.

    The moment he began unbuttoning his uniform jacket, however, an involuntary shiver rippled throughout his body. He could still feel some of his last attempt¡¯s aftermath, but with one more day of recovery, Edmond thought himself able to handle his routine better this time.

    He breathed in, allowing prana to flow through his body as he began to warm up. Simple arm and leg stretches, shoulder circles, and a light jog around were all bearable enough, while also allowing him to admire the variety of top-end equipment available.

    ¡­ I¡¯m just procrastinating, am I not?

    A sigh leaked out of Edmond¡¯s lips as he gradually sped up his jog, his body reaching a more comfortable level of activity. The familiar feeling of prana spreading across him in smooth waves, and the moment he felt the max amount he could handle¡­

    Three, two¡­ one!

    ¡­ He forced his regulators to lock it all down within him, stopping the natural flow just short of its final step.

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    This time, not even a second passed before Edmond lost his footing.

    A herculean effort was necessary just to not scream as he held the prana in, which meant nothing could restrain Edmond¡¯s cry of agony as he fell on his side, barely avoiding a fall on his face.

    The excruciating shock echoed within him, as if trying futilely to escape Edmond¡¯s body. Red-hot screws dug in and out of his skin, glass shards cut his muscles apart, his very bones seemed to fill with boiling water until bursting. And yet, the worst part was not any of the sensations threatening to tear him apart, but rather not knowing when any of it would come to an end.

    ¡°¡­ ¡ªcking hell, what¡­ you even trying to¡ª¡±

    Deep in the illusion of drowning within a molten disaster, Edmond just barely made out traces of a familiar voice.

    ¡°¡­ swer¡­ answer already!¡±

    He could not possibly know how much time it actually took, but when his body reached a modicum of stability and his tear-blurred vision finally settled, he saw Tatyana¡¯s face right before his. He could feel the last traces of excess prana being pulled out through a magic circle on his chest, where her hand was.

    ¡°¡­ I-I¡­ Am I¡­?¡±

    ¡°Yes, you¡¯re alive. Now tell me, what the fuck were you trying to do!?¡±

    The kneeling Tatyana demanded with a voice like a roar, juxtaposing a great torment to his ears with the gentle support provided to his body.

    ¡°¡­ How¡­ How long were you watching for?¡± Closing his eyes shut in an effort to control any remaining spasms, Edmond was unable to even look at Tatyana as he asked this.

    ¡°You were already jogging. I thought I¡¯d wait for you to finish your workout, but now I see I made a major fuck-up! Were you trying to kill yourself!?¡±

    Even after managing to keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds, he found himself unable to meet her glare.

    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ my personal training method.¡±

    ¡°Change personal to ¡®insane¡¯ and maybe we¡¯re talking.¡±

    ¡°¡­ It¡¯s popular knowledge that trained regulators allow for tissue to become even stronger from exercise, since they help body feed on prana as it exerts and repairs itself. I¡¯m just¡­ making sure to give my muscles as much prana as possible¡­¡±

    However, his hesitation failed before long, as he promptly felt a hand grabbing his chin and forcing him to turn. Big turquoise eyes twisted in disbelief as they looked unblinkingly at him, as if he were some unknown life form.

    ¡°Are you serious? This kind of method, considering all the extra strain and damage you¡¯re suffering, would only improve your returns by a little bit!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t belittle me,¡± Edmond¡¯s tone came out strangely aggressive, enough so he was surprised to find Tatyana¡¯s disapproving look faltering slightly. ¡°I¡¯ve done a lot of research on the matter, so you¡¯re not saying anything I didn¡¯t know when I started over a year ago. I know the trade-off of stress to improvement is as disproportionate as it gets, but it doesn¡¯t matter. If I can endure it, there¡¯s no reason to not go for a bonus, however small¡­¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s expression shifted immediately, from what looked like pity over to unmistakable fury. Even more than before.

    ¡°There is! If you¡¯ve done all that ¡®research¡¯ then you should know this is just a filtering incident waiting to happen! You¡¯ve been going at it for over a year? This stuff could cripple you or worse any day if you mess up one too many times! Sorry to break it to you, but there¡¯s nothing that¡¯s worth this torture!¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Did that night with the Thorns just not happen or something!?¡±

    Before he could think of a minimally smart rebuttal, Edmond had knocked Tatyana¡¯s hands away and fallen back on the floor, now without support. Stinging pain exploded once more, but he could not have cared less. He looked up at the girl, this time of his own will, and saw wide eyes and lips half open in shock.

    Even that did not change anything.

    ¡°¡­ I was lucky to be the only one there, even better that I was the only one being targeted, but what if that wasn¡¯t the case!? What if those psychopaths went after someone else!? For whatever petty reason they have, an innocent or more would¡¯ve been done for, without me able to do anything! I couldn¡¯t even run off like a beaten dog!¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s expression continued to darken, but Edmond could not stop. Feeling hot tears on the verge of spilling, the most he could do was bring a hand over to his face, hoping to mask as much as possible.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the regulators powerful families have worked generations for, I¡¯m not a genius for complex theory such as runes, and I don¡¯t even have compatibility with any state-of-the-art gear¡­ I¡¯m just me, and that¡¯s it. So if there¡¯s any extra improvement I can get¡­¡±

    Edmond was far from done. He had so much more to say, but was still unable to continue. For if he did, those tears would only continue to flow.

    His voice would crack, his nose might drip, his throat already ached and his face twisted uglily. He felt the hand on it shiver, despite not having to support any weight.

    Pathetic.

    A single word overwhelmed all other thoughts Edmond held, as he became painfully aware of his display. Only the pain of being unable to help it was a match for it.

    He noticed Tatyana off the corner of his eye, his vision blurry, but not gone. Her shoulders slumped, arms almost appearing to dangle in a far cry from her distinctive poise. Her static gaze felt like yet another stab to his spirit.

    ¡°¡­ Just you?¡±

    It finally turned away as she opened up the bag hanging off her right shoulder. A hand went in, finding whatever it was looking for rather quickly. Only a second after, she had thrown over a small pouch in a way Edmond should have caught easily, but not this time.

    Turning his wet eyes toward it by reflex, he recognized the contents instantly. It was not about sight or appearance, or even the noise of when it hit the floor. Another sense made him clearly aware that one of his containment marbles laid inside.

    Did she steal it back then?

    ¡°It was a mistake to just try explaining things to you.¡± Tatyana¡¯s words drew his attention away from such pondering.

    Noticing her walking away, Edmond frantically wiped away his remaining tears and even his nose just in case. Blinking a little too many times, he saw she had stopped just over four meters away, facing him with her feet spread at shoulder width.

    She raised her voice somewhat to compensate for the greater distance between them, then extended a hand toward him.

    ¡°This will be much better. Edmond, I¡¯m going to blast you now.¡±

    He doubted his ears, and even his very eyes as their view of Tatyana¡¯s lips further confirmed her words.

    It was only after noticing the massive amount of prana gathering around her, compressed to an almost fluidic density and gradually taking on the appearance of a dangerous, yet beautiful silver blaze, that he knew he had to do something.

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding me¡­¡± Edmond¡¯s gray eyes went wide open in terror as he clumsily backed off, as quickly as he pitifully could while struggling to stand back up. Even the worst novice of a sorcerer could have guessed pretty accurately what so much prana was capable of. ¡°What¡¯s even the point of this!?¡±

    ¡°Believe it or not, this is a better answer than any words I could say. Besides¡­ I don¡¯t get to let loose often. I know I sound like an Oasis addict, but I¡¯ve been itching for another chance after that run-in with the Thorns!¡±

    Even the air itself shivered as more and more prana was drawn in by Tatyana, like the most ferocious natural disaster. Not allowed to spread far from her once she took control, no matter how much was gathered, it only made the dreadful density of the spell being prepared stand out all the more.

    Edmond quickly realized that even running away was no longer an option, if it had ever been.

    ¡°So your answer is to murder me!? And turn the whole building to ash while at it!?¡±

    ¡°Think whatever you want for now. I¡¯m sure you know what your only choice is here, and that¡¯s enough for me.¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s turquoise eyes briefly showed a silver glow as a large glyph was drawn before her hand. The prana engulfing her swirled and converged upon it, causing the pattern to shine so brightly it could not be gazed at.

    As unbelievable as it was; ridiculous, terrifying, and downright infuriating, Edmond saw the commitment in Tatyana¡¯s expression. He never thought of her as the kind to joke about something like this in the first place, and no matter how much he wracked his brains, that impression did not change or falter.

    An immense power would definitely blast right at him. That much he was viscerally aware of, as he was of the only thing he could now do.

    His muscles seemed to scream, but Edmond forced himself to stand up with support from the wall that had just cut off his retreat. As he did so, he reached for the small pouch Tatyana had thrown at him.

    Injecting the contents with the scarce prana he managed to wrestle control of, they were thrown forward.

    Not even a second afterward, Tatyana¡¯s spell was unleashed, taking away sight and hearing alike; a star-like flash that allowed nothing but the searing, whirling air on one¡¯s skin to be perceived. Were it not for the wall, Edmond¡¯s footing would have undoubtedly been lost yet again.

    Still, the phenomenon only lasted for an instant. As the wind¡¯s rampage gradually slowed down, Edmond became able to see and hear again, even if the dazzle and ringing remained for a while longer.

    Contrasting the strength of the spell and the explosion he had just witnessed, the gym itself looked essentially intact. The only visible marks of the expected destruction were minuscule bits of a substance like charred plastic, and even those were gradually shrinking, vanishing away into dregs of prana.

    As Edmond doubted his eyes, he heard Tatyana groan in a way that belied a good stretch.

    ¡°Even I was shocked by it. I put my all into that shot and your pellet still stopped it. Not just that, but I didn¡¯t even have to do anything to keep our surroundings safe. That little marble withstood my full strength, all on its own.¡±

    ¡°W-Wait¡­ but¡­ what did¡­ Did you know?¡±

    Edmond replied with thoughts too fast for his words, his gaze moving from the disappearing remains of his containment marble over to an amused-looking Tatyana.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t borrow it just because, you know? I told you that they were held together very shoddily, so I wanted to figure out a fix. In the process, I learned what they¡¯re truly capable of. I think you also got the message?¡±

    Still in a daze, Edmond looked back at the floor, where the last bits of his containment marble finally vanished.

    Tatyana was right. He knew better than to wonder if she had forcefully dispelled her spell or held it back in any way. For something of such size and presence, even he would have noticed.

    Despite the absurdity of the idea, and how difficult it was to accept it, the answer was obvious beyond any doubt.

    A spell of such magnitude, a prana so dense as to warp their surroundings before being released, and an attack with nothing to envy in that crushing blow from Hellbound, had been completely blocked by Edmond¡¯s own sorcery.

    He heard Tatyana¡¯s footsteps gradually approaching, and his gaze turned reflexively to her upon feeling a finger jab decisively at his chest.

    ¡°That spell is you too. Without needing some self-destructive training regime or any special regulators, just smartly using what you already have; you made a trap even I wouldn¡¯t be able to break free of, unless I burn myself to a crisp. A little over an hour, isn¡¯t it? For such a long time, someone as strong as me would be completely defeated.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Eighty minutes, give or take. Did you also test them in action to figure this out?¡±

    Tatyana grinned, her eyes narrowing in a sardonic manner.

    ¡°Not at all. But I did have to wait alongside the police, so they could take Scar-Tail and her cronies away.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s thoughts went back to that night. That which had begun this whole mess, the meeting of Tatyana and ¡®Nemesis¡¯. At first, a night he only associated with the fear of a life-threatening battle and a serious injury, but it had also been the moment his path truly intersected with the girl¡¯s. A night that allowed him to inch just a bit closer to the person he felt so drawn toward, and who had come to his rescue during his darkest hour.

    Negative and positive, his thoughts over that night were tinged with the strongest, most visceral of emotions. But now, after hearing that casual description from Tatyana, to imagine her and a couple of officers standing about in awkward wait¡­

    ¡°P-Ppffthhahahaha!¡±

    ¡­ Shameless, childish laughter could not be restrained.

    Edmond was forced to lean on the wall for support yet again. He held his stomach, the sides of his face started to ache and new tears made themselves visible. Still, he could not stop laughing for quite a bit, and through that laughter, more and more of the painful darkness within him continued to recede.

    By the time he could clearly see the smiling Tatyana again, he wondered just what was it about his defeat against the Violet Thorn, about Throvim Van Svelten¡¯s words of reprimand that had made him feel so lost.

    The responsibilities he had chosen were no easy matter, but he never thought becoming a superhero would be.

    He saw proof within that snowstorm seven years ago, a real superhero like those he had only been able to read about. And now, he had also proven closer that goal, even if merely by a few small steps.

    ¡°That¡¯s a much better face. I trust you¡¯re now aware of where you actually stand?¡± The girl who had showed him that said amusedly as Edmond¡¯s laughter slowed down. ¡°Besides, if you really want a more advanced training method, I can help with that too. I don¡¯t know if the improvement will be exactly on par with that nonsense you were doing, but it definitely beats risking a lethal accident on the daily.¡±

    ¡°Th-That¡­ That would be great. Thank you...¡±

    Finally in control of himself, though not of the extent of containing his smile, Edmond replied in the only way that felt even slightly fitting.

    Miss Lunaris and Tatyana¡­ They couldn¡¯t be more different. It¡¯s so funny how things work out¡­

    Without a trace of complex thought leading to them, Edmond ended up spilling words that simply felt necessary.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make it up to you.¡±

    However, no regret or embarrassment came along. He did wonder just what kind of impression he had given upon seeing brief confusion in Tatyana.

    ¡°¡­ Ah. Well, I¡¯ll look forward to it, then.¡±

    She seemed pleased by the promise, at least. Feeling awkward in dwelling on the recent ¡®episode¡¯, Edmond raised a question on other important concerns.

    ¡°Why were you here in the first place?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to check up on what Van Svelten said about the pattern, so I asked around for anyone who had seen you. Kloel went to investigate the armory and any possible faults in it, and she told me Baudelaire has been doing research of his own in the archives, which meant I couldn¡¯t do much else. You¡¯d just started working out when I got here so I thought I¡¯d wait and watch for a bit, and¡­ we know what happened next. So, what¡¯d he tell you?¡±

    Edmond¡¯s eyes narrowed in a deadpan manner at Tatyana¡¯s inquiry, frustrating memories resurfacing.

    ¡°His schedule is indeed a big deal, so not much. Of course, he mentioned our dud could indeed be a dud. But supposing it wasn¡¯t, all he got to tell me was that it could be a herald crest, custom-made rune languages made out of pride or something.¡±

    Even before Edmond¡¯s brief explanation was complete, Tatyana¡¯s eyes shone with a hint of understanding.

    ¡°If it¡¯s a herald crest, then¡ª"

    ¡°Mondi?¡±

    But before anything could come out of it, a familiar voice shocked Edmond out of focus.

    He turned to the gym¡¯s entrance quickly and brusquely, then saw her. With almond-shaped maroon eyes, wheat-like blonde hair and uniquely pairing her uniform with black gloves. Hildegard Tirpitz¡¯s gaze settled on him with a curious expression after glancing over at Tatyana.

    ¡°Ah. Er, hello Hilda¡ª¡±

    ¡°Mondi¡­?¡±

    The somewhat incredulous tone from Tatyana felt slightly embarrassing, so Edmond found himself having to address that first.

    ¡°¡­ My little sister didn¡¯t like the sound of ¡®Ed¡¯ or how common it is, so she started calling me that until it just became a family thing.¡±

    ¡°¡®Family¡¯ includes Tirpitz?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you know my name, Nesterova? Quite a pleasant surprise.¡±

    Edmond felt instant regret. He knew Hilda¡¯s tone, far from surprise, belied an aggressive desire to not be left out of the conversation she herself had started.

    Fortunately, if she had noticed, Tatyana did not seem to think badly of that as she turned to the blonde.

    ¡°If we talked about quality of regulators alone, records place you above even me. I¡¯m not locked up in some castle to not have heard about you, especially as a Jewels invitee in just your third year.¡±

    Jewels of the Land, Sea and Sky. The apex twelve among knight cadets, at least in the public eye, with each one considered more capable than the average graduate. An invitation to join their ranks, even on the condition of a current member vacating their seat first, was an honor and achievement of the highest degree.

    Concerning Hilda, Edmond of course knew of her candidacy since the listings¡¯ latest update. But seeing someone else, Tatyana of all people, being so visibly impressed by his friend was a whole new experience. With his mood still somewhat sensitive, he quickly brought a hand to his lower face to hide the wide, surely stupid-looking smile he involuntarily showed.

    Hilda herself shrugged, but Edmond was convinced she must have found it just as hard to hide her delight at such recognition.

    ¡°Three members are seventh years who¡¯ll graduate soon, so they¡¯re just trying to fill in spots ahead of time. I wish we could talk a bit more, but I¡¯m in kind of a hurry, Nesterova. Can I borrow Mond¡­ Edmond for a sec? I hope I¡¯m not interrupting something important.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re asking me, instead of him.¡±

    ¡°Heh, sharp. Well then~?¡±

    Looking strangely amused despite Tatyana¡¯s crude reply, Hilda turned to Edmond with a grin, and then walked out of the gym. He was, for lack of a better term, perplexed.

    Glancing at Tatyana in a mildly apologetic manner, he followed the blonde into the hallway outside. Only a few seconds had passed, but her smile was no longer present, and her arms were crossed in a way rather mismatched with her previous disposition.

    Even without considering that, though, he was well aware of what he needed to say.

    ¡°Look, I know last time was¡­ not the best. I was in over my head, getting all offended when you were just¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop it, please. I was the one who just up and left like some immature kid, but I don¡¯t really want to talk about that, Mondi. Can we leave the whole thing behind us?¡±

    Hilda¡¯s words were direct, and it could be said they were making light of an issue that was quite serious. Nonetheless, Edmond was not against that approach this one time.

    All in all, what he cared about, and what worried him to the point of planning his approach over the whole weekend, was Hilda¡¯s comfort. Words about natural talent, greatness¡­ they were all irrelevant compared to that.

    Just like her, he just wanted to move on. Few things were more useless to dwell on when he had been away from his friend for so long.

    ¡°¡­ Sure. I¡¯d be glad to.¡±

    Edmond smiled in relief, and Hilda relaxed in a similar way, though a certain stress remained in her eyes. She began talking again before Edmond could think on it any further.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were friends with Tatyana Nesterova. Is your recruiter that open about this stuff?¡±

    He felt slightly uneasy from her question, though he had expected her curiosity to be geared in that direction. Answering was not difficult.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t meet her through him. This is very recent, and we¡¯re not really close. She¡¯s just¡­ tutoring me a bit. We¡¯ve seen each other a few times at the restaurant, so I thought I¡¯d try and ask her.¡±

    ¡°Is that what the crazy spell from before was about?¡±

    Edmond briefly froze upon hearing her sharp response. Blinking unusually slowly, he needed to make an unusual effort to not look away, even for a second.

    It was his fault, being this oblivious. Of course, most cadets had probably left the facility by this hour, but it was still a near-guarantee for anyone remaining to have noticed that calamitous sorcery.

    ¡°¡­ You think anyone else felt it?¡±

    ¡°Instructors shouldn¡¯t have from where they are, and I doubt any cadets still around wanted to check it out at all, but you¡¯re not answering my question, Mondi.¡± Hilda insisted, her tone rougher.

    ¡°It was just a demonstration. She¡¯s kind of a show-off, so I¡¯d say this stuff is part of why she agreed to tutor me.¡±

    ¡°A demonstration¡­ and she just had to do it here, huh? Where so many people can notice, where it can get troublesome. Mondi, even you should know this sounds off.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s gaze almost faltered at that moment, more bothered by her saying he ¡®should know¡¯ than anything else. Unable to come up with a reply quickly enough, Hilda took the earliest chance to continue.

    ¡°Are you in trouble?¡± Hilda¡¯s eyes seemed to tremble for a moment. ¡°I talked to Ingrid a while ago, and¡­ I think I could be a little more sensitive about stuff, even if it¡¯s not usually my style. Not wanting to drag others into your business is one thing, and it¡¯s a code I can respect, but this is different.¡±

    ¡°Hilda, please. You¡¯re overthinking things.¡±

    ¡°Am I overthinking those wounds you¡¯re trying so hard to hide?¡±

    Hilda¡¯s words were like a club, and this time, Edmond¡¯s relaxed fa?ade finally broke. Perhaps not even for a full second, but he felt his face convey his true emotions for a moment. That was all she needed.

    ¡°And yet, you asked for the help of this girl you barely even know, when I myself could also ¡®tutor¡¯ you or whatever. Please tell me, Mondi¡­ Is she the one who¡ª¡±

    ¡°No! She¡¯s not!¡±

    Edmond instinctively raised his voice, refusing to hear Hilda¡¯s full question.

    He immediately regretted it, but could it be helped? Tatyana had saved his life, helped him at every turn, and was trying her very hardest to atone for a mistake that was so easy to make. To hear her being suspected of worse, let alone of being the one behind the bulk of his injuries¡­

    ¡­ At the very least, Hilda looked far from upset at his outburst. Far from it, she somehow looked a little relieved.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯m sorry about that, then. But in that case¡­¡±

    ¡°Please, Hilda¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ do you not want to tell me, because it¡¯s a problem from back then?¡±

    Edmond¡¯s chest suddenly felt like pure lead.

    Not only from knowing exactly what Hilda referred to, but from being perfectly aware of why she felt so apprehensive about mentioning any further detail. That which he had to stop Claude from even mentioning.

    Recruitment day. Or rather, that which led to Edmond, and perhaps even Hilda herself, to join the Knight Corps.

    ¡°It¡¯s not. That¡­ there¡¯s nothing going on with it.¡± Edmond answered with an honesty full of resignation.

    Hilda¡¯s eyes wandered down, in a way that made it impossible to know what she was thinking.

    ¡°Got it. And yet, you still won¡¯t tell me what¡¯s going on now?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I know it sounds stupid, but let me handle it on my end. Tatyana over there¡­ It¡¯s not like I wanted her to get involved, so please don¡¯t make me drag more people into it. Especially¡­ you.¡±

    Family. At least them.

    No matter how difficult it was, he could not expose them to such danger. Edmond vowed in his heart, and looked back at Hilda with steel-like resolve.

    Despite that, seeing the concern in her eyes, he knew she deserved more. Far from the unreasonable respect he demanded for his way of doing things, Hilda was worth much more.

    Edmond felt guilty, dishonest and even cruel, but his efforts were just barely enough to force a small smile into existence.

    ¡°When it¡¯s all done, I¡¯ll tell you everything, okay? The full story.¡±

    Hearing his final decision, Hilda¡¯s brow drooped and her shoulders slumped. Her own grin looked a little sad, but also accepting.

    ¡°Should I get popcorn for it?¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll pay for the soda.¡±

    Unusually quiet chuckles came from both ends. Edmond did not know exactly when or who approached first, but at some point, the two had been drawn into an embrace. Their first since that day at the airport.

    For some reason, Edmond noticed so much now that he had remained unaware of then. Unlike four years ago, he was now taller than Hilda. Being this close to each other, that modest but certain height difference was more apparent than ever, as was the strength she possessed in spite of it.

    Why did I wait so long for this?

    Edmond thought instinctively, his smile widening. Her body may have been smaller than his now, but what mattered was no different from back then. As always, Hilda held a presence, a drive and intensity he could not help but admire. Something he did not need himself, but still strived to match so he could properly stand beside her.

    Then, in a similarly vague, unimportant order of events and intentions, the embrace ended just as it had begun.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll leave you to your ¡®tutoring¡¯. Even with whatever¡¯s happening, see if you can enjoy it. Lots of people would give everything to have that Tatyana Nesterova for a partner~.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like that, but¡­ yeah, it can get pretty fun.¡±

    Hilda did not miss the chance for a sly grin, making Edmond roll his eyes in slight, yet playful embarrassment. Seemingly satisfied, she turned, pivoting on a single foot, and began to walk off.

    Seeing her leaving form, Edmond finally recalled something he had missed the chance to ask several times already. Not this time.

    ¡°Will you accept that invitation? For the Jewels?¡±

    Hilda did not stop her leave, merely raising a hand and turning her face sideways for a moment. Her gesture was dismissive, her glance out the corner of her eye carefree, and her smile supremely confident.

    ¡°No way.¡±

    Those were her last words before leaving the gym building. Edmond could not deny feeling a bit regretful, but it was indeed the decision that fit her most.

    When he stepped back into the gym, he saw Tatyana fiddling on her phone with sparse focus. Perhaps messaging Kloel about what Throvim had told him?

    ¡°Sorry. That took a while.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize. I¡¯m no one to intrude between you two that way.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t make it sound like I¡¯m dating her or something.¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s brow furrowed slightly, as if confused more by the tone Edmond took than his answer itself.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t my intention, but duly noted. So, the friend who moved into your house was Hildegard Tirpitz, huh?¡±

    Edmond was briefly taken aback, surprised she had remembered that small tidbit.

    ¡°Yeah. Even now she¡¯s staying with my family.¡±

    ¡°What about hers? I mean, her actual blood.¡±

    His eyes went somber at Tatyana¡¯s words, an uncomfortable sense of powerless concern assaulting him.

    ¡°¡­ Who knows? I haven¡¯t ever met them.¡±

    Seeing her look lose a bit of strength made Edmond regret his honest response just a tad. Luckily, he had an easy way to steer the topic away from that.

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m more surprised you know about her. Not that I think you¡¯re sheltered or something, but still.¡±

    ¡°Even if I didn¡¯t care, info on prominent talents just ends up finding me as often as it would you, no matter if it¡¯s just some ¡®on paper¡¯ nonsense. Tirpitz, as far as I know, is already beyond that. Sometimes it gets funny, with people saying she might be a Crowned One.¡±

    ¡­ What?

    The term ¡®Crowned One¡¯ was not unusual to hear. More than that, it was a popular term even among people incapable of sorcery, only looking into the world of such powers from the sidelines.

    An extremely small amount of people in possession of some mysterious, inherent quality that allowed them to uniquely communicate with, and even subjugate magical beings and autonomous artifacts. Much more than just that, the ability uniquely could allow control over the Eleven Crowns, a collection of immeasurably powerful treasures said to represent the right to rule the world itself. Like some others, it was a legend that remained well-liked even to the modern day.

    Tatyana saying the term was not strange in the slightest. Rather, Edmond was confused by the tone of derision, and even ridicule with which she spoke.

    ¡°So you don¡¯t think she¡¯s one?¡±

    ¡°Of course not.¡±

    That one additional response, in that uniquely knowing tone, was all Edmond needed to finally figure things out. Honestly, he felt rather dumb for not remembering sooner.

    ¡°Right. You must have gotten to know one or two, being Alexander¡¯s sister and all.¡±

    ¡°Wait what?¡±

    The confusion he saw in Tatyana¡¯s face was so obvious, so cartoonish in its genuineness that he could have laughed, if not for her continuing her questioning right after.

    ¡°You know my brother?¡±

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s my recruiter, so¡­¡±

    However, the way in which her expression contorted then, alongside the fire that seemed to be lit in her eyes, was more likely to make him scream than laugh.

    ¡°Are you fucking serious!? And this is the first time I hear about it!?¡±

    ¡°I mean, you never asked¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you sass me, twerp!¡±

    A voice like a roar made Edmond¡¯s body go stiff immediately, his eyes instinctively darting around for an escape route.

    Why¡¯s she so mad!?

    But Tatyana herself was utterly unconcerned with what he thought to be reasonable or not.

    ¡°And what about Alyssa!?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I began my training under her¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just fantastic! Whatever, we¡¯re going now!¡±

    ¡°H-Hold up!¡±

    Before Edmond could react, she had gripped and pulled on his arm like a raptor dragging away its prey. Edmond¡¯s terror, for a moment, exceeded the pain at his still-sensitive muscles.

    ¡°We¡¯re heading to your place this time, and then you¡¯re going to tell me every single tale about me those two decided to have fun with!¡±

    ¡­ Ah¡­ I see¡­

    Finally knowing what was really going on, Edmond once again struggled not to laugh. For once, he was rather thankful for his body being in so much pain, and the help it provided for his poker face.

 II-3: Fallen Petal

    Edmond did not have fancy or specialized exercise equipment in his apartment, so his routines mostly consisted of several types of calisthenics. Among them, even pull-ups while stretching out his legs level to his core had become habitual, something he hardly needed to think about on the daily.

    This time was different, however. Not only in the routine itself, but he also could not remember a time he had been more aware of an individual workout.

    The reason for that extra focus and strain was unnoticeable at first sight, but quite obvious for someone with the intention and means to look for it.

    ¡°So? Any better?¡± Tatyana asked, slumping back on the red bean bag near the corner with an impromptu fruit smoothie on her hand.

    ¡°¡­ Sort of. I¡¯ve never thought too deeply about which muscles are working at any given time, but even if actively focusing on them helps me figure that out, it¡¯s still hard to make sure other ones aren¡¯t interfering¡­¡±

    Before arriving, Tatyana had gone into greater detail about her alternative, higher efficiency training method. In proper words, it was something rather simple:

    ¡°Rather than locking the prana up inside you and extracting the most potential possible, try increasing the intake for the specific area you¡¯re training. Absorb prana only with those specific regulators, and while your other ones will be working as usual, the flow through the muscles you¡¯re training will be greater and without extra strain. With a properly paced routine, your whole body will improve with better efficiency than normal.¡±

    The ease of the slightly lengthy explanation did not translate to the actual process in any way. A common analogy to starting regulator usage was learning to move one¡¯s ears or individual toes independently, and this training method made Edmond feel like he had traveled all the way back to those days. Only now, it had to be done under the added distraction of the exercise itself.

    While there was no real pain aside from that inherent to all prana usage, and mistakes lacked the same dangerous consequences of his own method, the activity was even more delicate and difficult. Be it drawing prana into too large an area that included less relevant muscles, limiting the area too much and failing to exert the most important parts, or outright being unable to properly control specific regulators; the number of variables was much larger, and the margin of error much smaller.

    Feeling his ¡®grasp¡¯ on the ideal amount of prana slip once more, Edmond finally let out his first sigh of frustration. The way things were, he frankly could not imagine how much time it would take him to get used to such a method.

    ¡­ But this is still so much better than what I¡¯ve been doing, isn¡¯t it?

    Compared to the pain and fear that prevented his training from ever feeling like routine, even past one year, he could not help but feel excited for the future, no matter how difficult the present was.

    In odd contrast, a grin appeared on Edmond¡¯s face soon after his display of irritation. His eyes closing in concentration once more, he began to gather prana in his arms, back and core, gradually resuming his training.

    When he opened his eyes again, he saw Tatyana looking up musingly. She had been watching over him for a while already, but now she placed her now empty glass aside, stood up and approached the thickly built metal bar.

    ¡°Move over. I need room.¡±

    ¡°You do?¡±

    Edmond did as requested even before hearing an answer, his curiosity roused.

    He was not disappointed at all once he saw Tatyana casually leap and flip forward, her legs catching onto the bar by the back of her knees. Legs flexed and her ankles crossed one over the other, he felt only brief and slight trembling on the bar as she held on securely.

    Edmond lost focus for a moment, not because of the sudden gymnastic display, but rather the glimpse he caught of the lean, defined abdomen under her shirt that had momentarily rolled up. Tatyana¡¯s hands quickly caught the hem and held it close to her waist, smoothly enough that she likely intended on doing so from the start.

    Not that she failed to notice Edmond¡¯s reaction in that time, proven by the dirty look she shot his way. He frantically glanced aside, cheeks warming up.

    ¡°My bad.¡±

    ¡°Whatever. I think it¡¯s better if you look now, though.¡±

    ¡°Mm?¡±

    Curiosity overwhelming his brief shame, Edmond turned when asked, bearing witness to a set of wonderful crunches.

    By all means, the exercise itself made for an impressive view. Tatyana¡¯s form was next to impeccable, the lower part of her body firm, and her pace both consistent and quick. All of this even with her abnormal, upside-down hanging position that should have been straining in and of itself. Nonetheless, what drew most of Edmond¡¯s attention was that which most people would not have noticed.

    Namely, the smooth flow of prana converging at her abdominal area, entering and exiting in fluid waves from many directions. The current was not quite as consistent as her physical effort, sometimes more jagged than wavy, with some directions noticeably weaker or stronger than others. It never stopped, however, and any difficulties beyond sweating and labored breathing were effectively masked by Tatyana as she closed her eyes.

    Frankly speaking, Edmond was entranced by the display, distracted by nothing else until Tatyana herself, somehow, upped the ante.

    Without noticing any weakening in the flow of prana toward her abdomen, Edmond became aware of a new current steadily forming. One further up, from the back at the front, toward Tatyana¡¯s clenched legs.

    When maybe four seconds had passed, however, all of the abnormal prana flow distorted heavily. Two seconds after that, it had dissipated. Tatyana finally let her upper body relax, or rather slump, as she audibly sighed and groaned.

    ¡°Damn it, so close!¡±

    Edmond felt almost offended by that frustration.

    ¡°Negative much? You did two areas at once!¡±

    ¡°I did not. I did one area, and even messed that one up by trying another.¡±

    It¡¯s like she¡¯s arrogant even in beating herself down!

    This time it was his turn to groan and sigh. Still, he could not deny her display had done more than its fair share to inspire him, and perhaps even guide his efforts more effectively.

    His eyes recovering some strength, Edmond tightened his grip on the bar and resumed his pull-ups, feeling something similar in his grasp on the surrounding prana. At the corner of his gaze, he barely saw Tatyana smirk and return to her own workout.

    ¡°Did you learn something?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Just a little bit, but it¡¯s enough to work from.¡± Edmond answered with a grin of his own.

    He did not know whether it was true, or just his swell of enthusiasm playing tricks on his mind, but based on feeling alone, he felt himself form a much smoother prana pathway.

    Only for it to be quickly disturbed by the sudden opening of a door.

    Damn it!

    ¡°¡­ You¡¯re working out too?¡± Asked a surprised Kloel, having just exited Edmond¡¯s room.

    ¡°Why not? My explanation wasn¡¯t bad, but some things work best with examples. Even better if I can take care of my own training while at it; also, you two are taking way too long.¡± Replied Tatyana without interrupting her crunches.

    Kloel promptly shared an amused look with Edmond, impressing him once more with her level of patience.

    ¡°Well, good news. I think we just figured it out.¡±

    Anticipation took hold of Edmond immediately, so intensely that he barely noticed Tatyana¡¯s legs letting go of the bar as she flipped back and landed on her feet, right next to Kloel.

    ¡°¡®Think¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s a chance we messed up in some part of the process, but we did get a message.¡±

    Edmond was the next one to let go of the bar, before approaching, then walking right past them.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s check that.¡±

    ¡°Right, right.¡± He heard Kloel say behind him, followed by the sound of her and Tatyana¡¯s footsteps.

    Unlike their apartment, Edmond¡¯s place had only a single door to separate his bedroom from the main area, which included both his ¡®living room¡¯ and kitchen. Through that door, another one on the other end, leading to the bathroom, was seen first. A bed to the left, and following to the other side, a closet, drawers, before ending in a medium-sized desk.

    Claude sat before it, his look wandering between the screen of the laptop laid upon the left side of the desk and a holographic display projected off a paper rune. As if confirming something, his eyes narrowed and remained on each for several seconds at a time.

    Edmond became hesitant after seeing that. Distracting him in his intense focus could be more harmful than useful, but his doubts were dispelled almost immediately¡­

    ¡°Before I show you the¡­ ¡®translation¡¯ for this, I want us to agree on something.¡±

    ¡­ only to be brought back right after, in a different direction. Edmond sighed and crossed his arms, giving off no real airs of compromise.

    ¡°When you¡¯re phrasing it like that? I¡¯m not making any promises.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I had to try. Alright, come over.¡±

    Edmond hesitated at first, but promptly walked further into the room, right behind Claude with Kloel and Tatyana tagging along.

    Well, I expected more of an argument there.

    Edmond felt a little bad, thinking of how much he had put Claude through for him to resign so quickly.

    ¡°What are we supposed to look at?¡±

    He heard Tatyana¡¯s demand at his right¡­

    ¡°Just wait a bit, he¡¯s on it.¡±

    ¡­ And Kloel¡¯s plea at his left, a little further behind.

    As for Claude, he had placed the paper rune on the laptop¡¯s keyboard, its hologram now covering much of the screen. Before more questions could arise, a sorcery circle appeared and dissipated briefly on his hand, more precisely in front of his fingers, as they splayed apart.

    The component particles of white and blue light swirled and mixed like flowing water as they formed new symbols, floating in perfect parallel before the message board on the screen.

    The message was¡­ unusual, to say the least

    ¡°¡­ All that, for this?¡±

    Tatyana scoffed, while Kloel grumbled.

    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t get it either.¡±

    ¡°We think it might be another code, but we¡¯re not sure. We might¡¯ve made a mistake, which means starting over.¡±

    Even Claude said so with obvious annoyance to his tone.

    Among the four, only Edmond remained silent, as if hypnotized by the strange writing.

    ¦ÅV ¨C MGL / 1? ¨C 2? ¨C 3x ¨C 4x ¨C 5? ¨C 6x ¨C 7x

    After all, there was a meaningful message that reached him through the seemingly unrelated symbols. One that brought him back to that night when he faced Scar-Tail and Tatyana, the conflict that started it all.

    It was not surprising the others did not find anything in the text; after all, he was the only one who had been there. Or rather, the one who had been present for the whole event¡­ and also not arrested and taken into custody by the police.

    ¡°I can explain it.¡± Edmond announced with a slightly shaky voice.

    The way in which his three fellows turned to him, in almost perfect synchrony, would have been rather amusing if not for the circumstances. Before they could ask anything, he continued speaking while pointing at the relevant symbols.

    ¡°That¡¯s not an ¡®E¡¯, and that¡¯s not a ¡®V¡¯. It¡¯s supposed to say ¡®Epsilon Five¡¯, and if that¡¯s the case¡­ I think the next letters refer to ¡®Magellan¡¯, the coffee shop. The numbers are the days of the week, with check and cross marks for being there¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hold on a second!¡± Kloel interrupted with a hand to Edmond¡¯s shoulder, further urging him to slow down.

    Tatyana or even Claude may have done the same had she not, their expressions showing varying levels of confusion.

    ¡°Look, I¡¯m not going to say you¡¯re not making some sense at least. But that¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s so many other ways to interpret it that make as much sense. We can take a little longer and figure it out after considering more options.¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s words were not enough for Edmond to hesitate, however, and he reiterated with eyes that were almost glaring.

    ¡°We can do that after confirming if I¡¯m wrong. As things are, I¡¯m almost sure of who wrote this, and I don¡¯t think they have any time to waste.¡±

    He made no attempt, no matter how slight, to hide the sense of urgency in his voice. Meanwhile, some worry appeared in Kloel¡¯s eyes, Tatyana glared inquisitively and Claude took it upon himself to ask.

    ¡°Go on?¡±

    In Edmond¡¯s mind, an unusually clear image had long since become present. Even in the darkness of the night, he remembered that head of red hair quite well.

    ¡°There¡¯s this one Thorn from the night I fought Scar-Tail. He ran off before even you arrived, so I doubt he got arrested like the others.¡± Edmond explained, looking at Tatyana.

    The way in which both she and Claude frowned did not please Edmond in the slightest.

    ¡°So you¡¯re saying the Violet Thorn sent you a coded invitation?¡± Claude asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s not it at all! Scar-Tail was about to maim this guy or worse before I jumped in. He¡¯s not exactly in good standing with the others, so he could be asking for help.¡±

    ¡°Again, you¡¯re assuming a lot of things here.¡± Tatyana added. ¡°Even if this Thorn still thinks he¡¯s in danger, that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s a call for help. It could easily be an attempt to get favor back, by luring the enemy out. Other Thorns might have put him up to it.¡±

    Edmond gritted his teeth, heat welling up within him the more he heard. Rather noisily, his hand came down on the desk as he spoke again.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s just prepare ourselves and be cautious! I know I could be wrong, but are we really going to take that chance? A person could be in danger, and we¡¯re just going to leave them alone!?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Edmond, this person is a complete stranger.¡±

    ¡°¡­?¡±

    His eyes went wide as he heard Tatyana¡¯s unexpected response, mouth slightly agape. She seemed about to continue speaking, but he did not think twice before interrupting her.

    ¡°I was also a stranger to you.¡±

    Tatyana grimaced in dissatisfaction, this time taking a few painful seconds to reply.

    ¡°It¡¯s not the same situation at all. I got to know some things, even if few, about Nemesis before trying anything dangerous. Hell, this is not even the same as helping out streetgoers like those people on the forum. This guy is a criminal belonging to the Violet Thorn!¡±

    ¡°Oh, so we know nothing about him and that¡¯s why we¡¯re going to assume he¡¯s just a shitty person!? There are people who just fall into that life or can¡¯t leave even if they want to! Normal people sometimes do bad things!¡±

    Edmond realized his mistake just a tad too late, remembering just what Tatyana had been struggling with ever since that night. For better or worse, however, their argument was such that she showed no reaction to his clumsiness, quickly and heatedly talking back.

    ¡°Say all you want, but you won¡¯t convince me a gangster isn¡¯t more likely to be a piece of shit than not!¡±

    And just like that, all of Edmond¡¯s concern was overshadowed by a suffocating sense of frustration.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°So we¡¯ll just let a possibly innocent, vulnerable person go through the worst without even checking things out!? Because of what¡¯s more ¡®likely¡¯!?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough yelling, okay?¡±

    In the end, it was Kloel¡¯s surprisingly severe voice that prevented the discussion from falling into further hostility. Such a modest statement on its own would not have been enough, but she had no intention of stopping.

    ¡°Edmond, worrying about others is one thing, but you need to remember Tanya and you are the ones in the most immediate danger.¡±

    Holding back a reflexive, rushed response, Edmond forced himself to close his eyes and breathe, stepping back and rubbing both hands on his face briefly.

    ¡°I know, I know. I¡¯m sorry¡­ but please, we can¡¯t just do nothing.¡±

    ¡°And we won¡¯t. Even if it¡¯s just to gather some extra info, we should check this out.¡±

    The noise of a brusque step was both heard and felt as Tatyana approached Kloel, disbelief clear in her eyes.

    ¡°Klo, are you deaf or something? I just explained why¡ª¡±

    ¡°I heard you well enough. Some points were better than others, but still¡­ Tanya, I don¡¯t want to make the same mistake again.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s curiosity was promptly roused. Not only due to Kloel¡¯s cryptic phrasing, but also because of the instant, visible change it had on Tatyana. Enough to briefly leave her at a loss for words.

    ¡°¡­ Look, as I said, it¡¯s not really the same¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine if you think that, but I disagree. No matter what the chances are, I¡¯m not taking them when it comes to a fuck-up like that. Do I need to say more?¡±

    Lilac eyes did not falter, while turquoise ones seemed to lose just a tad of their belligerence the longer they clashed. But that small amount was enough, with Tatyana finally walking away and plopping down onto¡­ Edmond¡¯s bed in resignation.

    Kloel relaxed after seeing that, smiling as naturally as ever before looking at Claude.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been quiet for a while. How about you pitch in? It concerns you as much as it does us.¡±

    The man in question showed some brief hesitation from the sudden address, but turned and crossed his arms with more typical smoothness as he spoke back.

    ¡°In my experience, the alternative is him sneaking out on his own.¡± His words felt like a club strike right to Edmond¡¯s neck. ¡°But this time, he¡¯s finally letting me, and you two for that matter, help out with the issue at hand. I say we go and see if he¡¯s right, and even if it¡¯s some sort of ambush, I¡¯ll be there to deal with it. If I¡¯m being honest, I¡¯d prefer it if they come out so I can crush them then and there.¡±

    His latter assertion, somehow feeling more genuine than the former, was more akin to a knife. Though of course, one person shamelessly scoffed at it.

    ¡°Pfft! Just be sure to beg for help before Hellbound rips both your arms off. With his teeth.¡± Tatyana¡¯s chuckle was beyond immodest.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to fight him if you¡¯re so scared. I¡¯ll even bring the empty bottles.¡± But Claude did not miss a beat with his own reply.

    Edmond could only hope, if any ambush were to actually happen, that terrible teamwork would not be their undoing.

    <hr>

    It was the following day that Edmond and the others finally set off toward the coffee shop Magellan, forgoing any pending activities at the knight facility. As concerned as he was about the danger the Thorn from that night could be facing, rushing toward him immediately was likely to do more harm than good.

    Adequate preparations needed time, and both Edmond¡¯s and Tatyana¡¯s injuries could use as much recovery time as they could get. While not fully healed just yet, Edmond felt considerably better off that one extra night of rest, though their time had been mainly focused on planning their approach as well as any contingencies that may be necessary.

    If Edmond had read the message correctly, then today was also a good day to ¡®respond¡¯, and he had never wished to be correct as much as he did now.

    The new arrival at Magellan two hours and ten minutes into their wait, taking a seat at one of the outside tables, nearly made him pump his fist high in the air.

    ¡°That¡¯s him?¡± Tatyana asked casually from their shared position at one of the lower rooftops, facing the shop across the street.

    The reason for their choice in location was far from dramatic. The spell keeping their presence invisible, masked, or at least ¡®ignore-able¡¯ to the people around them was very powerful, supported by complex sorcery circles constructed ahead of time and applied to the surrounding buildings. But as strong as it was, it could not make a passerby ignore something outright blocking their way, meaning the start of a domino effect that would quickly weaken and unravel the spell.

    Rather than being constantly mindful of people walking and when to get out of their way, the rooftop was far more convenient. And with the spell in full force, Edmond need not hesitate to enthusiastically reply.

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m positive.¡±

    He had only seen him from a generous distance away, with a mask on his face. But that red hair, a tad richer than Noelle¡¯s to the extent of resembling unmixed paint, was certainly memorable. While not as striking as that unique trait, the slightly above average height, lanky build down to long and slender fingers and legs began to quickly refresh and match his memories.

    Despite a noticeable effort to hide them, the man¡¯s obvious nervous tells convinced him further of his identity.

    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t see any signs of an ambush around.¡±

    Claude¡¯s sudden, nearly ¡®jump-scary¡¯ words, made his return known right after.

    ¡°¡­ Please let us know you got back in a less horror movie way¡­¡±

    While glad that his friend¡¯s scouting had gone by without a hitch, Edmond was in complete agreement with Kloel¡¯s plea.

    Holding his chest after just barely restraining an embarrassing gasp, he breathed deeply and turned to her.

    ¡°If¡­ if he says there¡¯s no ambush waiting around¡­ I guess I¡¯ll just go change. Go ahead and have him come here.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    Briefly seeing Edmond walk away, then waiting until Tatyana sighed and nodded in resignation, Kloel¡¯s gaze turned serious as she looked down at Magellan and raised a hand.

    A gentle indigo color seeped around her, not fully resembling either mist or smoke but something in between. Extending in the shape of several tendrils, they quickly shot toward the coffee shop while condensing into smaller, key shapes.

    ¦ÅV ¨C MGL / 1? ¨C 2?? ¨C 3x ¨C 4x ¨C 5? ¨C 6x ¨C 7x

    If Edmond¡¯s reading was correct, the message formed before the red-haired young man should have been quite simple to understand.

    Three seconds passed before he snapped out of a disbelieving daze, and five more until he settled down, at least enough for Kloel to think it was a proper time to give some directions. Still, she first turned back to both Tatyana and Claude, who had also been looking at every move and tell from the young man.

    ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Show him the way.¡± Tatyana replied approvingly, though her doubt was obvious.

    ¡°Yes. And now us three should keep our distance, ready for anything suspicious.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Nodding at Claude¡¯s words, Kloel brought down her hand, causing the indigo letters to drift away from the man, then clump together in the rough shape of a ¡®guide¡¯ arrow.

    By the time he had reached the street, three knight cadets had vanished, leaving only the fourth behind. One wearing a slightly different hoodie, contrasting in its quality with the raggedy armored suit below within.

    This is it.

    Edmond took a deep breath, only mildly inconvenienced by the suit¡¯s hard mask. Lack of experience wearing it during daytime was more of an issue, with the sun producing a mildly annoying glare on the glossy, torn surface before he pulled his hood over.

    Unwilling to delay things further, he hurried to the rooftop¡¯s left side. In between it and the neighboring art museum there was an alley, quite wider and cleaner than the stereotype. It blocked the sun just fine, though, and was a more than adequate meeting spot with the masking spell in place.

    ¡°Holy shit!¡±

    Edmond¡¯s drop from the roof¡¯s lip still seemed too sudden considering his surroundings, causing the red-haired man to raise a terrified voice.

    ¡°Quiet please¡­!¡± He pleaded in the most urgent way he could, while holding back his own nervousness.

    It seemed to barely register at first, with the young man stepping back and half-turning, just a second away from running away until his eyes settled on him, wide open. Mouth opening and closing awkwardly, he fitfully adopted a more casual posture.

    As casual as a person shivering uncontrollably could look, that is.

    ¡°Is¡­ Is it really you?¡±

    ¡°¡­ We can think of a way for me to prove it, but I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anyone else who made it out of the Epsilon Five incident, knowing what we know.¡±

    ¡°Then how about¡­ no, whatever. No one else should¡¯ve understood that message, and¡­ I don¡¯t have the time.¡±

    Edmond nodded in acknowledgement, knowing how volatile a man as visibly anxious as him could be.

    ¡°Then we can start with why you reached out to me at all.¡±

    ¡°R-Right¡­ You probably don¡¯t have dealers and such wanting to talk often¡­¡±

    ¡°I helped you already, didn¡¯t I?¡± Edmond asserted quickly, concerned as the youth seemed to become increasingly reticent. ¡°I know things can be complicated, so I¡¯m not going to just ditch someone for being stuck in a tough situation. Unless you give me a reason not to, I came here to help.¡±

    The redhead turned to Edmond with a conflicted expression. Part expectant, part worried, with a bunch of other, less clear emotions mixed in to a smaller degree.

    It was to be expected. Even if they had one ¡®favorable¡¯ episode a few nights ago, they were still complete strangers. Apprehension was fair and reasonable, and frankly it made Edmond feel more comfortable. As if that very nervousness disproved the possibility of a double-cross more than anything else could.

    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ as innocent as you make me out to be. Honestly, if¡­ if you don¡¯t feel comfortable taking risks for me, that¡¯s fine.¡±

    The more the man talked, however, less of that relief remained.

    ¡°But there¡¯s more people in danger here. I have¡­ I-I have a sister, minding her own business and working hard. She doesn¡¯t deserve any of this¡­!¡±

    The pain in his voice, the fear in his eyes, they were too much for Edmond to feel anything remotely positive.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay!¡± He quickly replied, trying his best to reassure the man while not stepping past his established ¡®safe distance.¡¯¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who this is about. I said I¡¯m here to help, so just tell me¡­¡±

    Edmond slowed down, more to properly listen to any responses than to sounded more clear himself.

    ¡°¡­ What¡¯s ¡®this¡¯ referring to?¡±

    The red-haired man blinked at first, holding an arm with the other¡¯s hand in a futile attempt to control his shivering. He breathed in and out, quickly and shallowly, then spoke.

    ¡°The Thorns¡­ want to attack the knight facility.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Edmond answered reflexively, his disbelief beyond obvious. ¡°Like¡­ Are they planning a kidnapping or something?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± The man shook his head, a partly painful, partly frustrated and even angry expression on his face. ¡°When I say attack, I¡¯m being serious. It¡¯s a full-on assault with all the Unmasked, as well as those of us who can make a difference when dealing with knight shit.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Edmond became glad for his mask¡¯s presence yet again. This time, he was quite sure it was hiding a very stupid, very incredulous expression.

    ¡°You probably heard wrong.¡±

    ¡°¡­ What?¡±

    ¡°I mean, couldn¡¯t it be that they were talking about the armory only? Its defenses are solid, but it¡¯s possible to breach them if you approach¡ª¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t hear anything wrong, asshole!¡± The redhead replied with unexpected zeal, immediately shutting Edmond up. ¡°Look, my sister is a cadet at the damn place so they¡¯ve been asking me shit non-stop! That¡¯s the only reason I even know about all this!¡±

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± Edmond apologized with a heavy voice, realizing far too late that he had outright belittled the very person he was trying to help. ¡°I¡¯m not calling you a liar, but even with the Unmasked Thorns, an attack on the facility is just suicide! Without taking the really strong cadets into account, there¡¯s still the instructors to deal with and all the¡­¡±

    Edmond did not stop talking because of an interruption. Rather, his words had simply ran out. After all, when thinking of the many advantages the facility held over a gang, no matter if it was one of Seyfelt¡¯s big three, he recalled a specific blind spot. One he had been thinking about for several days now.

    ¡°Right, the weapons! How much do you know about the stolen knight weapons?¡±

    ¡°¡­? I don¡¯t think we got some insane equipment if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking about. But¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ But?¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes darted around, his arm now hugging the other rather than simply holding it. He took a deep breath, then another before continuing.

    ¡°The people who¡¯ve been getting us the weapons¡­ will probably make up for all that you mentioned.¡±

    Suddenly and almost unbearably, fire seemed to well up inside Edmond as he heard the young man¡¯s words. A special rage, frustration and confusion pulled at his mind from every direction, making it steadily more difficult for him to speak calmly.

    ¡°¡­ So you do have insiders?¡±

    ¡°Maybe? It¡¯s likely, but I don¡¯t know for sure, but it¡¯s likely.¡±

    ¡°How don¡¯t you know? Are they not Thorns or something? What do you even know about these people!?¡±

    Only looking at the redhead¡¯s increasing, visible discomfort managed to just barely reel Edmond back in. He tried to relax with a deep breath, holding any extra questions back and placing both hands in his hoodie pockets. The feeling of smooth plastic within was not helpful, but at least the man was able to speak unimpeded again.

    ¡°¡­ I know they¡¯re a group, but there¡¯s probably not a lot of them. The bosses seem pretty chill about them as threats, and they haven¡¯t brought that much gear each time.¡±

    ¡°What about payments?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ the attack itself.¡±

    Hearing this, Edmond froze. So many more questions raced across his mind, but his inability to choose just one allowed the redhead to continue unimpeded.

    ¡°They¡¯re the people who came up with the whole plan, the ¡®payment¡¯ is for us. The weapons we have now were an ¡®advance fee¡¯, and a way to help with the assault. We can take anything else we want as the rest of the payment, they just want the attack to be big.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I see¡­¡±

    His words did not help any of those concerns fade away. This was likely more obvious than Edmond would have wished, judging from how the man gradually slowed down his explanation. Before long, he also settled for silence, giving way to anything Edmond wished to say.

    Finally, he took the chance.

    ¡°¡­ These people are willing to pay the Violet Thorn so much, letting them pretty much raid the place, only on the condition that you¡¯ll really fuck things up?¡±

    ¡°Y-Yes.¡±

    The man¡¯s voice lacked breath, and Edmond knew that his tone had something to do with it. He did not think himself able to do anything about it, however.

    ¡°That means this group would really benefit from any damage the place and the people within take, weakening them and lowering their influence. Or maybe they just want it as a distraction¡­? To be able to do something the Knight Corps would definitely want to stop¡­ That¡¯d probably be just as bad as actively hurting the people in the facility.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Sure. That¡¯s¡­ reasonable to think.¡±

    Feeling like his body had been filled with lead, Edmond took one¡­ two deep breaths before continuing. It was extremely frustrating how little they helped.

    ¡°But what made it too much for you, is that your sister might get caught up in the whole thing?¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes, standing out for their dark, almost marine shade of blue, darted desperately aside. Fearful still, but with a more somber look. Most of all, he looked ashamed now.

    ¡°¡­ Y-Yes. I told you, I¡¯m not some innocent guy, much less noble or whatever. It¡¯s not like I enjoy people being put through the shitter, but¡­ what made me reach out to you, take all this risk and everything else, is thinking about what might happen to her¡ª¡±

    He bit his lip again. An accident, with just a small, briefly noticeable bit of blood confirming that fact. He ignored it, blinking his slightly glossy eyes repeatedly while struggling between looking at Edmond or not.

    ¡°I know how this looks. I sell fucking Oasis, for crying out loud. I take people¡¯s money, even if I know they¡¯re poor and struggling, and poison them for it! That night you saved me¡­ I was short a seventh on the boss¡¯ cut. Know why? Wanna hear where that money went?¡±

    The man paced, or rather slid to his side. The sound of his shoes on the dusty pavement was grating, and prepared no one for that of his fist¡¯s side on the wall. Edmond tried to speak up¡­

    ¡°I. Smoked. It. I fucking smoked past my own stuff, and just went for what I needed to sell before I knew it!¡±

    ¡­ but he was too late. Another hit on the wall, rougher and drier, while a forced grin of pure panic made the redhead¡¯s lips tremble.

    ¡°And now I¡¯m begging. A piece of shit like me is begging for charity! I¡¯m not some hot shit magician or a badass knight, and I can barely look at my fucking gun. The bosses only talk to me because I know some vague shit about the place, and if I dare tell my sis then she¡¯ll try to be a fucking hero and interfere with the whole thing!¡± A third hit. Fourth, fifth.

    On the sixth, he finally pulled back from the wall. The dirtied side of his hand bled quite a bit more than his lip, a thin trail slowly reaching his wrist. Either he did not notice, or he did not care, as that same hand quickly went for his face, covering his wet eyes.

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t¡­¡± He took a deep breath, clearly needing a strong, conscious effort to merely do that. ¡°I can¡¯t do shit¡­ I don¡¯t know what to do!¡±

    His hand finally went down, hanging limply by his hip. Finally, he turned, looking at Edmond head on with a gaze that seemed to shiver on its own, his deep blue eyes now painfully reddened.

    ¡°Back then¡­ if it was up to the boss, it would simply mean one less dealer. One asshole less ruining the streets. You¡­ wasted your time helping me out, while not knowing anything.¡±

    Edmond remained silent, still. The young man¡¯s forced smile disappeared, and with it, any last trace of visible dishonesty vanished.

    Whether it was Edmond, or even Nemesis, he did not see a loathsome peddler or an abused youth.

    ¡°But if you still felt like doing that¡­ Then please, anything for her¡­¡±

    All he saw, and all he cared about, was the person pleading for help. Tears of frustration, perhaps more than the horror, ran down the young man¡¯s face before he could cover up again.

    ¡°If not for my sister, then for the other kids. For the people just enduring a shitty job, even those instructors¡­ Please, this time there¡¯s surely someone¡­ someone worth saving¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Edmond waited some more. For the youth to cry his fill, to give any more info he thought important, or just vent. It was probably a little over a minute, but nothing would have changed had he waited over an hour instead.

    The man wiped his tears for a third or fourth time, both hands doing their best to salvage any traces of poise he may have had before. Every chance he got he would look at Edmond expectantly, waiting for his response. Any response, if his frantic eye movements meant anything.

    Finally, Edmond¡­ Nemesis had enough of waiting. He nodded, and spoke up before the young man could respond.

    ¡°Any name I can call you?¡±

    Before his question, Edmond had heard the redheaded youth begin to talk. But despite being interrupted, he fell silent after hearing Edmond¡¯s words. Enough time passed that Edmond thought to pull back his request.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m Finn.¡±

    He did not have to.

    Edmond did not expect him to give his real name, but even thinking of it as an alias made him smile behind his mask.

    He looked slightly up, toward Finn¡¯s own gaze with comfort and relief.

    ¡°Awesome. I¡¯m so happy I helped you, Finn.¡±

    Edmond confessed with a familiar vigor in his heart. Just like that first read he gave to the Nemesis discussion board, but stronger, more than any strengthening sorcery he could pull off.

    On Finn¡¯s end, he did not reply. From his awkward expression, his wobbly posture and trembling eyes, it was impossible to tell whether he was about to lash out again, or burst into more tears.

    <hr>

    ¡°You¡¯re going back on your own? With the Thorns on edge as they are?¡± Edmond asked, seeing Finn beginning to walk away after discussing a few extra details.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± The redhead turned his face to say. ¡°Things were a little sensitive after boss Scar-Tail was taken away, but I didn¡¯t really have to lie, so I¡¯m mostly good. If I stay away for too long, especially at the same spot, that might change.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Alright then. Can you please take this?¡± Edmond said as he brought both hands out of his pockets, only one holding something.

    While Finn showed a suspicious frown, he quickly held his out own hand and accepted the small object.

    ¡°A burner¡­ To call you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll need a way to let me know when it all goes down, won¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°R-Right.¡±

    Edmond was rather happy about the slight embarrassment Finn showed, noticing a slight tad more relaxed.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we have a password, then?¡±

    He was not nearly as happy about having to be reminded of such an important thing. Trying his conscious, utmost best to not allow his voice to give away any awkwardness, he took some time thinking before replying.

    ¡°Let¡¯s do ¡®Lunaris¡¯, then.¡±

    ¡°¡­? Why th¡­ no, forget it. That¡¯s good.¡±

    Pulling back a seemingly reflexive question, Finn looked at the burner phone, and then at Edmond. It went into his jeans pocket, before he nodded and resumed his walk.

    Edmond spoke up quickly and loudly. Ignoring any concerns about image for the moment, there was one more thing he had to say.

    ¡°Not just for that!¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Finn turned again, clearly not understanding from so little.

    Edmond reorganized his ideas, then explained.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t come here knowing about the assault. I thought you might be in danger, so even if it¡¯s just that¡­ Call, and I¡¯ll go help. I promise.¡±

    He could have blushed by the end of such talk. It sounded less awkward in his head, more reassuring, even if it still conveyed all he wanted Finn to know.

    His reaction, his expression¡­ were not the easiest to read.

    ¡°¡­ Sure. Thanks.¡±

    But at least they did not appear to be negative.

    Edmond looked out the alley after Finn''s leave, until he exited his view. He heard approaching footsteps and dry dropping noises right after.

    ¡°Well, seems like we weren¡¯t being paranoid. To think some stolen weapons could mean something this big.¡± Kloel said with a light tone that was noticeably forced.

    ¡°What matters is what we choose to do next. Fast.¡± Claude followed up, likely trying to help the whole group focus, even if a bit clumsily.

    ¡°We obviously have to let the instructors know before anything else. They need to be on alert as soon as possible.¡± Tatyana added.

    ¡°No way.¡± Edmond countered. ¡°They¡¯ll ask where we even got the info from, so they might not take us seriously, or even pursue Finn the same way they would any other Thorn.¡±

    Tatyana rolled her eyes with a groan but did not argue back this time. Did she know better than to contest Edmond again on the topic? Or had she changed her mind after actually hearing what Finn had to say? Either way, Edmond had nothing to complain about.

    Instead, it was Kloel who spoke next.

    ¡°We can make up a story, but what¡¯s most important is that everyone¡¯s ready for whenever the Thorns try something. For all we know, the attack could be this week.¡±

    ¡°¡­ R-Right.¡± Edmond replied shamefully. ¡°Sorry, I wasn¡¯t thinking things through.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Said Tatyana, much to his surprise. ¡°You¡¯re worried about a lot. We¡¯re here to make up for anything you might miss, so don¡¯t beat yourself over it.¡±

    His eyes wide with shock, it took him a second to nod back. Her words were reassuring, but also stress-inducing for surprisingly similar reasons. Still, it was preferable to their animosity from before.

    ¡°Then¡­ I guess our own plans for an assault are out?¡±

    ¡°Seems like it.¡± Claude said with crossed arms. ¡°It was one thing to face the Unmasked, and even their armed goons were pretty manageable. But those helpers they have change everything.¡±

    ¡°People so confident in being able to outmaneuver the instructors¡­ It¡¯s scary stuff.¡± Kloel said without lifting her eyes from her phone. It was Edmond¡¯s hope that she was jotting down information relevant to the recent reveals, at least.

    ¡°It¡¯s not even that.¡± Tatyana practically spat her words out, leaning her back and one foot on the wall. ¡°If that was all, there¡¯d still be a whole lot of room to plan around them. The problem is we don¡¯t know shit about them!¡±

    Kloel slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight side-hug, but it had no noticeable effect on her obvious irritation.

    Edmond sighed. How was it that after learning so much new information, it felt like they had fallen so far behind in terms of actual progress? How did their choices feel so much harder, and the path ahead so unclear?

    At least, despite everything, Edmond could tackle what awaited them with a better state of mind. If anything, he now knew his choice of saving Finn that night had been correct.

    With how scared he is, I don¡¯t think we can expect him to get us more information. Too risky¡­ but maybe that¡¯s better. If not for us, at least for him.

 II-3.5: Vermin

    Finn Morrigan felt strange.

    This was, paradoxically, not unusual for him. After all, his younger sister had settled on joining the Alpheratz Knight Corps from quite a young age, while he himself showed no aptitude for sorcery and combat skills, nor any interest that could motivate him to overcome that.

    With each sibling living under completely different sets of rules, he was used to catching glimpses of things he found incomprehensible. Even at his fresh twenty-four years of age, he had reached a point at which any shock at magicians, monsters and such would fail to stick past an hour or two.

    Instead, the greatest surprise of his life would come not from that ridiculous side of the world he lived in, but from what was merely and entirely human. From the weird stranger, Nemesis¡­ and from himself.

    Finn had never thought of himself as particularly fond of Ciara. She was born a little past his eighth birthday, so he retained somewhat clear memories of her earliest years. Back then, he felt as excited as most kids would feel at getting their first sibling, and just as normally, that enthusiasm gave way to apathy and occasional annoyance once the novelty wore off.

    He had to wait longer for blander food, the baby cried in the dead of night when he had school the next day, his parents took him out less often. But he had heard of friends who had been made to change diapers and do their share of the chores, so Finn found his own experience rather bearable after some time.

    Problems did not come from when she was a baby, but rather when without any apparent reason, Ciara Morrigan became one of those ¡®stick in the mud¡¯ children. The type of kid who acted like, or rather wanted so badly to be an adult in their mind, if nothing else.

    She was far from intrusive about it, but the interest she showed in the conversations of older relatives was on another level from what was spared for those her age, or even a few years older. He could not remember any times she brought a friend over, nor her asking for a ride to meet one.

    Her interest in sorcery, legends and events from that grander side of the world manifested way before he first noticed. And when the Second Calamity marked a ¡®before¡¯ and an ¡®after¡¯, affecting people around the whole world, it was somehow Ciara who did not seem to panic at any moment.

    Finn also never hated her, and he knew the thought was beyond ridiculous after a mere half second of pondering. But there was something about the girl, a strange aspect of the people involved in the world of magicians and monsters, that he had never been comfortable with. This conflict within him grew further once they moved to Seyfelt, their parents forced to stay behind for the sake of their business.

    Finn and Ciara had lived by themselves for three years now. They watched shows and videos together, argued over meal preferences for the first time, groaned in annoyance at noise from mismatched sleep schedules. Two birthdays each, with a strange level of dedication from the other on each one.

    And across all that time, Finn¡¯s concerns only swelled and became more complex. Unable to escape them by simply staying out for most of the day, he hardly gave it a thought when a friend offered him a taste of Oasis, or two alongside a pipe. He did not accept that offer, but was still selling for the Violet Thorn by the next week, seeking an extreme that might just mask his worries.

    The work was dangerous, perhaps more so from his own end than from the law¡¯s. Even without taking the Unmasked into account, he heard of a ¡®sales leader¡¯ just above his station, who had mangled a snitch¡¯s throat with an ice pick. Later on, after a client¡¯s third attempt at shorting, he saw a dealer even newer than him light a cherry bomb up their nose.

    Despite that, his assigned tasks were easy. Whether or not it had an actual effect, he could at least try to relax by knowing such screw-ups were not his concern. Or so he thought, until that group of strangers started dealing with the Violet Thorn. Until the goods provided by those mystery people allowed them to succeed in previously unreasonable operations¡­ Until plans to attack the Knight Corps facility materialized.

    Finn¡¯s heart dropped immediately, and he knew why from the start.

    Sixteen years since Ciara had been born and three of them living only with her. Nothing about that time had managed to cure his worries, his fear of her. He had yet to enter her room once, made sure to cook all their meals, and only slept when she was out, or was convinced she herself was asleep. He had become convinced that no matter how much time they spent together, he would always see her as a magician, a knight or even a witch. He was a normal person, and she was some other.

    ¡­ But Finn now knew that no matter what, such an other was also his sister. The person closest to him, whom he had seen cackle at jokes that made his eyes roll. Someone who left even small bits of onion for last and swallowed with the most hilariously disgusted expression, who stayed up late studying matters beyond her cadet year ¡®just in case¡¯, who had left for a bathroom break in the middle of a movie so he would not see her cry.

    Finn feared his sister, but more so than that, he still loved his sister. A terrible danger now crept up on her, and he knew better than anyone that if he dared tell her about it, that responsible, brave sister of his would face that danger without faltering. She would get herself killed.

    He could not bear it the next time he saw her, waiting for his return home as always, no matter how late it was. Ready to thank him for the day¡¯s food, comparing his haircut to another random plant in the least funny way, roundabout and a tad embarrassed when asking for money to spend on more of those magic books.

    Finn needed to scream. He needed to cry and rage and hit something, but he could not. In the end, he did something worse, by thoughtlessly satisfying a curiosity that had been so small, so occasional.

    He tried a taste of Oasis, and then another. The drug of perfect worlds, allowing people to ¡®live¡¯ their fantasies. His memories on the matter were already vague, but Finn did not think the experience was that good a match to such a fantastic descriptor. Calling it a much more intense, almost on-demand version of lucid dreaming was closer to reality¡­ and more than enough to hold him in the state he was.

    It was powerful stuff, so he only used in small amounts, but such casual precautions barely mattered. It was only a few days later, when it was already time for the boss to get her cut, that he realized he did not have enough money to pay up, or enough product to sell.

    Perhaps yet to fully come down, Finn went along with the other Thorns giving him a ride to Epsilon Five. But even if he had been fully sober, he knew very well there was no other choice. He had no safe place to run off to, and would have to bear his mistake on his own, lest the consequences splash on Ciara as well.

    But he did not have to do even that, for he was saved not from his fellow dealers or some enforcer, but from the Unmasked Scar-Tail herself. The strange man clad in tattered armor, an obscure phenomenon some grateful denizens of Seyfelt had started to call ¡®Nemesis¡¯, had put his life on the line to give Finn another chance.

    Everyone who knew of his mistake had been taken by the police. Other Thorns had questioned him heavily about the event, how he wasthe only one to escape, but just that. Finn came back to what had become his daily life, with no immediate, direct danger to him.

    Why? Why him? How come such a cowardly man, unable to do anything meaningful, had been so sickeningly fortunate?

    The thought tortured Finn, even now. But there was something else, someone much more important than any horror he could have suffered.

    Ciara.

    Finn himself was worthless. Cowardly and pathetic, unable to fight back against the Violet Thorn, unable to take his sister somewhere safe. But he now knew of something he could do.

    He researched until far into the morning, wracked his brain to think up a coded message, and even endured the panicked nausea that came with briefly taking one of Ciara¡¯s older sorcery books, all so he could draw his message in a language of strange symbols to hide it further. The digital art tool he had bought in a brief artistic spur had finally been of some use.

    He could not simply become miraculously unaware of what the Violet Thorn would do if they found him out, so there was a real possibility that his message would remain forever unread. But if by some chance, calling upon his luck from that night, Nemesis could find and understand it¡­

    Finn had found someone who might just be able to do what he could not. Someone who rather than save the worthless him, would save Ciara this time.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    He squinted his eyes for a moment. The cold breeze was almost painful rather than just annoying, enough so to snap him out of his thoughts.

    It had been around fifteen minutes since his unusual meeting with Nemesis. Finn had been puzzled by the man since that night at Epsilon Five, and while the vigilante¡¯s words were as strange as his actions, they could not have been more consistent among themselves.

    The redhead knew better than to simply take people at face value, but should the man truly be as he portrayed himself, the weirdness of the matter could not have been more welcome. On his walk back home after stopping only for a beer, he kept reprimanding himself for the myriad of positive thoughts the meeting had left him with.

    ¡­ But of course, assuming good results from mere promises and good attitude was just another way of blindly trusting people.

    Finn sighed, his eyes closing for a moment. If anything, he at least expected himself to be more resistant to such na?ve ideas. When his blue eyes opened again, he focused on his surroundings in an attempt to distract himself.

    The rather small park, barely sufficient in its size to allow for a satisfactory dog walk in two laps around it, was his favorite benchmark whenever he walked back home. And by ¡®favorite¡¯, it was more like it was the place he had grown the most accustomed to and remembered most.

    Due to the coming winter, the trees had gone quite brown and the grass was scarce. The sound of the old fountain right in the middle of the place was still barely audible, but the lack of people further added to the unique feel the park had compared to most days. It was not like some of the worse days, with only two or three maintenance workers around; rather, Finn could neither see or hear anyone else this time.

    But this was not the usual time of day he walked through the park either. Coupled with the season being what it was, it was not surprising he would sometimes be the only one present for a while.

    I wish at least the crepe seller was around.

    Finn felt a little disappointed, but it was no issue.

    While sometimes there were cooler sights and events about, the park was just another place to cross on his way to the apartment, so he did not miss a beat as he kept walking. Closer to the sidewalk¡¯s far edge, as usual. Looking for the occasional cool bird, as always¡­

    ¡­ So when did the whole thing become something that was not normal?

    The rustling leaves.

    The somber gap between far off trees.

    Maybe the steadily graying clouds, smothering the sun and drawing all color away.

    Seyfelt was a nighttime city, sure, but where were the cars and bikes? Traveling or even just parked?

    ¡­ What¡¯s with me?

    Finn felt ridiculous as he noticed the shapeless unease assailing him. Doubly so as before he could think twice about it, he turned just slightly back for a peek, like many times he had feared the police tailing him.

    But he did not need more than that brief look to know, all that pursued him was his own, shadowy silhouette.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Finn walked faster.

    No one was following him, and he knew better than anyone that he lacked any special intuition. He was a normal person, after all.

    And yet, he knew he was not overthinking anything. Unable to stop his shivering, a completely different sort from his meeting with Nemesis, he knew staying put, or even slowing down was dangerous.

    So he walked faster and faster, to the point he might shock the next passerby, if he even managed to come across one.

    The unpleasant presence only got stronger. Rather than the anxiety he felt from Ciara, this was closer to the times he woke up at midnight, before she was even born. Physical needs called, but the slight gap in the curtain let just a sliver of moonlight in, almost enough to see something crouching by the corner, waiting for him to try and walk out, run¡­ or worse, turn on the lights, to fully see just what it was. It did not matter how much he needed to go to the bathroom, nor how painful it got; he would stay still and simply bear with it until morning.

    His current restlessness was so similar as to dig up memories he thought forgotten in vivid detail. As if the rest of the world had abandoned him, except for that something.

    Now panting erratically, Finn had no idea when he started running.

    He had left the park behind, ignoring his usual route home. It was far too dangerous, followed by a short, desolate bridge, then a dilapidated factory and more places that seemed unsafe even on his normal walks. If he saw them now, if he dared traverse them¡­

    There was hardly a complex thought. Instinctively seeking any safety, Finn¡¯s frantic trot had turned to a full sprint. On some level, he knew it was unreasonable to be afraid of just ¡®nothing¡¯, but he had long since passed the point of being able to laugh at himself.

    He just ran. His throat was hoarse and dry from the cold air, but he kept running regardless of discomfort. Pain.

    As many times as he could, Finn made sure he was not being followed. It was not even his first trip to Magellan, and he had no current business with the higher ups.

    Desperately, he told himself that he was not being targeted by some other lunatic. Shadow Spot, Last Empire or some other group.

    There was still no one around. It was not even evening yet, but every place he ran past was absolutely barren. Almost like a movie, one he had been unwittingly trapped in. The familiar landscape of the city did not feel real anymore, more like an imitation in a mirror or picture frame that he was finally seeing from the other side.

    ¡°¡­?¡±

    At last, for no apparent reason, Finn stopped. His ¡®destination¡¯ was¡­ a very normal street. One he did not recognize at first for how ordinary it was, no different from the many he crossed every time he went around the city.

    He only realized after a few seconds, that he was now only a couple of blocks away from the knight facility, seemingly having traced the path he took to meet with Ciara a few times. Was that¡­ the reason he had come here?

    ¡­ Ah, that¡¯s right¡­

    He pondered for a second, and then began to chuckle as he became aware of something hilarious.

    The slight chuckle gradually became full-blown laughter, forcing him to bend and seek extra support from his legs. A cackle that was clearly his own, but still sounded like someone else¡¯s, as if he was an actor throwing their voice.

    Finn laughed more, much to the suffering of his sore throat. Standing back up straight, he brought a hand to his face and felt hot tears on his palm. Crying, trembling, he still laughed.

    He was running so hard, for so long. His usual route home seemed dangerous, so he ran for anyplace that seemed even a bit safer.

    Now, he finally realized¡­

    ¡­  They were on him the whole time.

    The alien mass burst forth. Like black leeches, like eyeless worms. Like thousands of maggots, like wiggling, living filth and parasites and tar and¡ª

    For a split second, he had managed to see them so closely. Then, it was only the unique sensation of his eye collapsing, all the while so many of those invaded the soon to be vacant socket.

    ¡°¡ª¡ª¡­!!¡±

    Finn could barely hear his own screaming. They had already gone for his ears, and the one that did not have its eardrum crushed yet could only register an incessant, wet, almost chirping noise.

    Agony radiated from his right calf, his left knee and ankle, his waist, lower back¡­

    He crumpled to the ground, desperately hitting an arm on the pavement to shake off the ones that were there. Beyond the pain, it was losing feeling on each finger, one by one, that razed his mind.

    They¡¯re chewing through. They¡¯re getting inside. They¡¯re inside inside inside inside¡ª

    He could not feel those in his hand, but he knew. He somehow knew perfectly well what they were doing.

    His remaining eye darted around desperately, catching glimpses of them around so much of his body. When he was much younger, he had accidentally seen shock videos with maggots in them, but now it was different.

    They were so small, so indistinct. The details he had briefly noticed when they were so close were now invisible, but none of that mattered.

    They pierced all the same, they burrowed all the same, they slid within him all the same, they bit and chewed and chirped and squirmed and there were so, so, so, so many of them.

    Ah, the Oasis had really done a number on him. Delayed effects, he had heard and read of such things occasionally. Weird side-effects, the drug was making him hallucinate.

    All was good. Evening was yet to come, so he had time to pick something up for both him and Ciara. She liked¡ª

    Hurts.

    ¡ªdidn¡¯t she? He had found an obscure show recently, so weird but so good and she would definitely¡ª

    It hurts. Stop.

    ¡ªout of her seat. But he had sweat so much today, he would have to shower before laying on the couch or anything like¡ª

    Why? Why does it hurt so much?

    ¡ªsay good night, go back to his room and rest rest rest rest, he just wants to rest and relax and sleep and wake up breakfast for Ciara Ciara¡ª

    Stop. Stop. Stop already, anything, just stop please it hurts hurts hurts so much just stop please!

    Finn flailed and struggled and screamed again and again, his voice gradually sounding even fainter, like something far away. He felt them settle in his mouth too; his lips, his tongue, his palate and throat. Even so, he knew the reason why was something different, and even more terrifying.

    The fact he had yet to fully pass out may have been his own fault. In his anguished struggles, clinging to consciousness with every bit of effort he could muster, he knew he was only allowing the torment to last even longer. And yet he also knew that if he did not endure it all, if he let himself lose consciousness¡­ He might not wake up ever again.

    It was slow, it was painful, and no matter how much he told himself that, how much he used that very suffering to try and keep himself aware; Finn found the vision in his one remaining eye darkening by the second, right as he somehow noticed something that stood out even now.

    The things voraciously ravaging his body had not spared him a second, but he also saw them right ahead. In a number that was much greater, enough to make the current Finn shudder more, though they did not approach him. Instead, they swirled with that incessant chirping noise, converging in some sort of denser structure. Finn looked further up, and he instantly regretted it.

    Such oily colors. The largest one was such a dark red it was almost brown, while another was closer to a deep crimson color, with lighter tube-like endings on certain parts. Two were longer, connected and pink, while the one at the top was also matted with white, red and even some black along its many folds. The increasing amount of black vermin, small enough to almost look like smoke or mist at this distance, squirmed and wrapped around them like layer upon layer of fascia.

    This, coupled with their pulsating, futile-looking activity, let Finn know they were the throbbing organs of something still living. The chirping continued and became louder, piercing¡­ somehow, more coherent.

    ¡°¡ªs what was going on? ¡ªbad, bad. Now¡­ ¡ªthat phone you got¡ª¡±

    Like fog, like haze, like a black miasma, more and more of the wriggling somethings joined in, steadily forming a more concrete, humanoid silhouette almost as if drawing it; sketching a garbled parody of a man, monochrome aside from the slimy organs yet to be fully covered.

    The last thing Finn Morrigan saw was the fizzing figure stepping forth, its aberrant nature only briefly matched by its movements, and reaching for the pocket he wanted to expose the least.

 II-4: Evening Heartbreak

    A full hour had passed since Edmond and company¡¯s return from their meeting with Finn, this time gathering at Tatyana¡¯s and Kloel¡¯s apartment as it was closest to the Magellan caf¨¦.

    Edmond had changed out of his suit, snacks and drinks had been served per Kloel¡¯s insistence, and now the four of them sat by the couch and small dining table, much like they had done days before.

    Progress on their most current task was¡­ inconsistent.

    ¡°Maybe we could go with him being an undercover officer?¡±

    ¡°No way. We don¡¯t know what they¡¯d use to prove their identity, and why would we know before the cops themselves in that case?¡±

    ¡°Speaking of which, couldn¡¯t the police have some real informants that have let them know about this? If one of us went to the station, we might be able to figure something else out. Or even better, get them to send their people out today, if only to keep watch.¡±

    ¡°They could even reach some breakthrough if they don¡¯t already know something about it. Yeah, we should go to the station tonight at the latest.¡±

    That was not because of doubts over how to proceed.

    While they were not able to use Finn¡¯s information all that easily, they did have the information itself. The most significant hurdle was cleared for them ahead of time, and the worst case scenario would simply mean full honesty and disclosure. The whole discussion over a front narrative, an excuse to present to the authorities, was something they could forgo without issue should push come to shove. Something completely unnecessary.

    ¡®Unnecessary¡¯ being the key word, which the group seemed to acknowledge, going by the priorities they constantly switched to, in terms of both actions and timing.

    The group¡­ Edmond aside, that was.

    He had not taken a sip of his water or eaten from the chips in the bowl yet. In all honesty, he was finding it increasingly difficult to simply stay there, let alone partake in the conversation. He may have been the only one so concerned over the front story they had to think up, that which would keep Finn safe even when using his information, and as such, the dissatisfaction probably lay with Edmond alone.

    It¡¯s like they¡¯re not even thinking about him¡­

    He sighed and leaned back on the couch, brow furrowed. The low importance they gave to the redheaded Thorn did not come as a surprise to him, but it did not make the fact any easier to handle when things were so dire.

    It was not like Edmond did not know why they needed to use the information quickly. The Violet Thorn¡¯s plans endangered many people terribly and threatened to change the very balance of Seyfelt as a city, but it was precisely that reason that made him think about Finn all the more, and frustrated him when Claude, Tatyana and even the previously supportive Kloel seemed to just treat him like a secondary issue.

    Was he not a potential victim of the Violet Thorn¡¯s moves too? Had he not put himself in even greater danger to give them a fighting chance, weakening the element of surprise?

    ¡­ No, he was being unfair.

    The three of them were doing their best, now even thinking of the best ways to counter different approaches by the Violet Thorn, whereas Edmond himself was still stuck on the mere narrative with which to alert the knights and the police.

    The fact he was still irritated, still stressed despite knowing that very well was yet another, equal source of frustration.

    ¡°Should we expect a curfew to be put up?¡±

    ¡°I doubt it. And even if they want to, we should try to convince them not to. Most cadets are way better at using powered gear than the average Thorn, so more of them being out means the Thorns have to be more careful.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. The Thorns are used to violence, they won¡¯t be holding back and we have no idea how many there are. Guns are still an issue on their own, and we¡¯re not even considering the Unmasked.¡±

    Edmond barely listened, struggling to retain much of what he knew was, by all accounts, very important to keep in mind. His attention wandered to the gray evening sky past the window, to that thin door with the unique knob, to Tatyana herself, to his phone¡­ which just buzzed noticeably. Only it was not his personal cellphone doing so.

    Edmond¡¯s attention had not moved there randomly, and it was his instinct to pull out the burner right then and there. But with another look at the group, another second of listening to their discussion¡­

    ¡­ he instead stood up from his seat, casually as he could, and began walking away.

    ¡°Mm?¡± Tatyana voiced out inquisitively.

    ¡°Restroom. I¡¯d rather be the one talking to the police, and if it¡¯s such a priority, it¡¯s better if I go do it soon.¡±

    ¡°You already have a cover story?¡± Kloel asked with surprised eyes.

    Edmond had to resist a frown from showing as he attempted to respond.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to mention Finn unless I go into a lot of detail, right? Right now, I can just say I¡¯ve seen Thorns with knight weapons. I¡¯m a cadet so the police are likely to believe me, and I can even act like I¡¯m afraid they might attack to steal more. I¡¯ll come across as a real paranoid guy but that¡¯s no problem.¡±

    This was not an excuse he had just come up with, but it was still one that did not fully satisfy him. Nonetheless, Kloel and the others seemed to not mind it nearly as much as he did, nodding after a few seconds before returning to their discussion.

    Edmond¡¯s annoyance almost throbbed briefly, but it quickly subsided as he walked away into the corridor, toward Tatyana¡¯s room.

    One of the two bathrooms in the apartment was there, of course, but most importantly, it was also where the bag with his suit was. Tatyana had been interested in fixing what she could since that first morning, but repairs were not what he was interested in now.

    Lifting the bag just to make sure the suit was still there, he did not even open it as he approached the still poorly mended window, then pulled out the burner phone in his pocket. The message that had just arrived¡­ made him open the window up and throw the bag right outside, double-checking only so it would fall on the trees of the building¡¯s small garden, rather than on some unfortunate passerby.

    There was an address he recognized on the text, and the password they had agreed on was also present. But what took over Edmond¡¯s attention almost entirely was the body of the message.

    There was no real complexity, or any extra data. It was a single line, even; but that single line told him more than ten in other words.

    [help please I cant]

    At first, Edmond had completely forgotten about the password¡¯s importance, and he wondered if he would have even cared should it be absent.

    He closed the window just how he opened it, with his best attempt at both urgency and silence. He thought of how little he knew about the upcoming conflict, about the people and even the violence he might face. The sort of danger that he could be throwing himself into.

    The man-shaped monster from that night appeared in his thoughts once again, and he could not help but stop his stride for a moment.

    ¡­ Am I going to leave him to them?

    He resumed his walk as easily as he stopped.

    Stepping out of the room, and then the corridor, he came across the sight of those three again. They were not talking much at the moment, but their expressions looked as worried as they were focused; enough to probably lose sleep over the issue come the following nights.

    ¡­ Edmond slowed down for a few seconds, then exited the apartment without saying anything else.

    He rushed as soon as the door closed behind him, and after one painfully long elevator wait and some more walking, he was out of the building.

    So, which tree caught it?

    Edmond turned and ran to the left, recalling the garden¡¯s location from his earlier, higher vantage point. The grass was well kept, which alongside the gushing fountain, tools for casual exercise and children¡¯s play, as well as the stone sculptures, could have made for quite the lovely landscape. The small size of the whole thing, however, instead made it look extravagant and tacky above anything else.

    Four trees of various heights were spread across the garden, one alone and three grouped up. Edmond saw the bag he had dropped near the latter ones, not even caught on a branch but on the exposed parts of the roots.

    Caring little for the slight subversion of his expectations, he picked up the bag and set forth, slinging it over his right shoulder as he headed out of the property.

    He climbed and leapt upon a rooftop as soon as possible, not wanting to accidentally freak out random passersby minding their own business with his speed. Though in all honesty, neither keeping a low profile nor keeping people on the street comfortable were anywhere near the top of his current priorities.

    So Edmond ran. He sprinted and jumped and dashed across building walls and tops, knowing the place he had to reach and seeing only time as his enemy.

    Some pain and general discomfort remained in several parts of his body, but at the moment, aside from his right forearm, it was mostly the after-effects from his blunder at the knight facility¡¯s gym that bothered him. Whether from the efficacy of all the care he had received, or simply the effect of the medical gel when given enough time and rest, the traces of his injuries were not enough to meaningfully impede his advance anymore.

    ¡°So, what are you actually trying to do?¡±

    Which only made Tatyana somehow catching up and speaking from his side all the more impressive. His foot landed perilously on the edge of a chimney at that moment, almost causing him to lose his balance and fall right on his face.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go breaking your neck, we just need to talk.¡± She added with sarcasm that did not fit her serious expression at all.

    Edmond bounced off the chimney prematurely, landing by the roof¡¯s edge before following into a jump, then running up the next wall. Seeing Tatyana match his path toward higher ground almost simultaneously, he looked away toward the front and gritted his teeth.

    ¡°We don¡¯t. I said I¡¯m going to the police station, so if you¡¯re not helping Claude and Kloel you could just go alert the facility instead.¡±

    ¡°No way you think I fell for that.¡±

    Edmond felt himself recoiling instinctively at her reveal, and without having to turn, could make a very good guess at Tatyana¡¯s reaction.

    ¡°¡­ You did? Just what happened that¡¯s got you so sloppy?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being so paranoid for no reason.¡±

    He heard Tatyana groan audibly, perhaps restraining a swear.

    ¡°Am I!? Yeah, like you¡¯re just going to use the bathroom in my room, not caring for how weird it looks and that you¡¯ve only been using the other one until now. Oh, and it so happens to be the room you could get the bag you¡¯re holding right now, while not even heading in the station¡¯s way!¡±

    Edmond only grew more and more stressed. As she said, he had been sloppy. Even without the detail Tatyana brought up, he knew very well that his exit had been rushed, frantic and badly planned. ¡®Sloppy¡¯ was the perfect word to describe it.

    But he had something much more important to think about. Something he could not afford to delay to think of a better plan.

    ¡°Did the guy message you? Is that what this is all about?¡±

    Tatyana hit the nail on the head, and Edmond could not have been unhappier. He pivoted on his leg, then jumped to the right. Grabbing onto the approaching fire escape, he hopped up onto the next building.

    Obviously frustrated from his lack of a response, the girl clicked her tongue before speaking again.

    ¡°You¡¯re just¡­ Whatever. I¡¯m not saying you shouldn¡¯t go if he asked for you, okay? But why sneak out without telling us anything?¡±

    She would not stop pestering him until she got a reply. He knew that much, and if slowing him down was what she needed to get him to talk¡­

    No. He did not want to think she would go that far, but he also did not want to test her. So he took a painful breath of cold air, and gave Tatyana what she wanted.

    ¡°I already mentioned other things I¡¯d rather you all be doing. Aren¡¯t those the priorities? You wouldn¡¯t even talk about Finn unless I brought him up.¡±

    Finally, Edmond turned to her as he spoke. As expected, her eyes narrowed aggressively, eager for confrontation.

    ¡°That¡¯s what you were thinking back at the apartment? That we just weren¡¯t considering him at all? I know you get this tunnel vision when seeing the one poor guy in need of help, but seriously, he¡¯s one among all the people who could get caught up in this issue!¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d I know you think of Finn as even one of them? Earlier today you were against just meeting with him; saying that he likely was some criminal asshole, that it wasn¡¯t worth to even check if he needed help or¡ª¡±

    Edmond could not continue. The way in which Tatyana¡¯s eyes went wide open, like she had been made aware of some terrible, painful secret, made any follow-up words he had thought of vanish instantly.

    He wanted to say something else, in a completely different direction, but found himself at an absolute loss. It gave the girl time to frown, her pupils momentarily darting away as her lips pressed conflictedly.

    ¡°¡­ I¡­ I made a mistake, you¡¯re right. Two for two, go me...¡±

    ¡°Look, I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. This is something I need to realize on my own, and make up for. I know why you don¡¯t want me to help with this, but¡­ why not ask Baudelaire? Or even Kloel. She also wanted to give the guy a chance, so why not her?¡±

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    Edmond fell silent once more. Not because of finding no words like before, but because they were words he did not want to say. Still, he knew better than to waste more time, and forced a response out.

    ¡°I¡¯m healed up, okay? Not one hundred percent, but I can act on my own. You don¡¯t have to keep babysitting me, and neither do they.¡±

    ¡°Babysitting¡­? What kind of excuse even is that!? This is dangerous stuff you¡¯re getting into, whether you¡¯re hurt or not right now is not the reason we want to help!¡±

    ¡°Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake, can¡¯t you see that just makes it all harder for me!?¡±

    Edmond had yelled out before he could even try to restrain himself, silencing Tatyana¡¯s initial attempts to interrupt him. Not wanting to see whatever her face looked like now, he turned forward, gradually slowing down as they drew nearer to the address in the message.

    But he was far from done, like a broken dam.

    ¡°It¡¯s one thing to help me investigate something. I really appreciate you patching me up, and even giving me a place to sleep. You helping me get stronger, in a better way¡­ Everything. It¡¯s much more than I can thank you all for with just words. But this just isn¡¯t the same!¡±

    ¡°How!?¡± She spat back, more in frustration than outward concern. ¡°Don¡¯t try to bullshit me. I even had to show you you¡¯re not some weakling, for crying out loud. There¡¯s no way you think any of us can¡¯t make the cut so why not let us help with this!? Is it not enough that I already fought the Thorns with you!?¡±

    An image flashed past Edmond¡¯s mind and stayed there, matching Tatyana¡¯s words with such perfection.

    She was not dressed too heavily, but still matched the cold weather with a thick, dark green crewneck. So why was it that when so covered up, he could still see the wounds on her back as clearly as back then?

    I don¡¯t have time for this.

    He stopped his run, knowing he should be changing into his suit before proceeding any further. Tatyana herself stopped by his left side, but Edmond refused to pay her any extra attention. Talking as they headed to the place was one thing, but if he delayed the search for Finn now¡­ Any embarrassment at changing clothes before her was irrelevant compared to the possible consequences.

    Only a strict, claw-like grasp on his upper arm prevented him from following through.

    ¡°You¡¯re not doing anything until we¡¯re done here.¡±

    Her words stunned Edmond, with only a frustration that made him tremble as a replacement for his words. He turned to her, almost seeing red, and briefly considered fighting back.

    He was not stupid, though. No matter how highly Tatyana thought of his ability, she still did not speak of him as a match to her. If they fought, his chances were pathetic at best.

    It would not be a problem were she his only obstacle, but to think about facing the Violet Thorn right after, even if he somehow succeeded¡­

    By all means, she was outright forcing him to deal with her, which made him inch even closer to outright rage.

    ¡°Do you have any idea what you¡¯re doing now? Someone could be dying right now!¡±

    ¡°And does that mean I should let you tag along!?¡± Tatyana shouted with anger that seemed painful, her grip on Edmond¡¯s arm so strong his breath was briefly cut. ¡°If you go into this on your own, let alone with your thinking as it is, you¡¯ll just get him and you killed! So tell me! What else do I need to prove so you¡¯ll let me help out!?¡±

    But that was far from enough to prevent his words from coming out, with a voice that spared no one, especially not himself, from its vindictiveness.

    ¡°You fought them, you said.¡± He felt his throat ache, and not only from the cold breaths he drew in again. ¡°You also got hurt for that. You talk of your mistakes so much, while completely ignoring mine.¡±

    ¡°¡­? What are you even¡­?¡±

    Edmond could barely handle it. He no longer felt merely frustrated, but completely infuriated. How was it that he had to explain this to yet another person?

    ¡°You¡¯re right I have a tunnel vision problem, as well as many more, but what can I actually do about it? Knowing there are people out there in danger, being unfairly ignored, hurt or worse and yet they know they can¡¯t do anything about it¡­ It hurts so much. It scares me, and it won¡¯t ever get out of my mind! I just want to help those people, to make sure they won¡¯t feel hopeless like that, so what¡¯s even the point if I just end up adding more of them to the pile!?¡±

    He stopped for breath and that alone. If not for that, he did not know how long he would have gone on for, but he did not have time to even ponder that. Tatyana looked at him¡­ like he was a completely different type of being. Something incomprehensible.

    ¡°You think if I get hurt helping you out¡­ it¡¯s your fault? You think you¡¯re the one doing the hurting!?¡±

    Edmond did not reply. Nothing more needed to be said, no matter her disbelief. All he could do now was confront her eyes without faltering, and wait for whatever she wanted to say now.

    ¡°Then where would you even put yourself!?¡±

    ¡°¡­?¡±

    She went for something confusing, enough so that he almost asked a dumb question, but she did not need one to continue.

    ¡°It¡¯s true I just don¡¯t think about the problems of strangers on the level you do. Most people don¡¯t, and I can¡¯t really imagine how someone like you feels, but that doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t care for the people I know. It doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t feel the same as you; just as stressed, just as scared and just as panicked when a friend decides to jump all alone into that danger!¡±

    Edmond could feel Tatyana¡¯s furor. Enough frustration in her words to outdo the pain on his arm, spoken with such force to almost make him take a step back.

    ¡°¡­ You seriously don¡¯t get it. Look, personal bias is not the priority here!¡±

    ¡°Oh, so I¡¯m biased now!? Then what¡¯s your deal with this ¡®teacher¡¯ person!? Or the police!? I haven¡¯t seen you complain about what they¡¯re doing, or even about relying on the instructors to deal with the Thorns! Why is it all fine for them to help and get into the thick of it, but not us!?¡±

    Edmond stiffened up. An irrational desire to simply run off welled up inside him; he did not need to bear any of this. But Tatyana¡¯s grip was uncompromising, without slack. No matter how much the implications tortured him, he knew he had to deal with her now, somehow.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I asked them to take that responsibility¡­ They¡¯re not doing it because of me!¡±

    ¡°Then is this just about your selfishness!?¡± She stepped in closer, and this time Edmond could not avoid pulling back. Her fingers promptly went so tight he thought they might break his skin. ¡°What happened to all that worry you have for even strangers!?¡±

    Edmond forcefully stopped his retreat, not even due to the pain. He glared instinctively, defensively, but Tatyana did not stop her advance. Not until she was close enough for their shoes to almost touch.

    Not for any lack of strength in her expression, her gaze softened just a tad, and only then did Edmond notice he was again unable to respond.

    ¡°I won¡¯t tell you to stop worrying over people that way, or to stop acting on those worries. But both me and especially you know¡­ it¡¯s not a struggle one person alone can endure.¡± Her hand went tighter than ever for a moment, but then became somehow gentler than her first grip. ¡°You¡¯re changing nothing by trying all this on your own, other than pushing your concern onto others. Please, Edmond¡­ If only to make people who care about you feel better, just let us deal with some of that struggle.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Three seconds passed. Five, and then ten. No words were spoken at all, by Edmond or Tatyana. Even the air seemed to have stopped, the cold not even registering as either annoyance or comfort.

    Did they simply have no more wishes to express? No, that was not quite it.

    Edmond simply felt heavy. Weighed down by such a heavy sense of disillusion, which made way to something even he could not fully identify.

    ¡°¡­ Is that all you had to say? I¡¯ve wasted enough time here.¡±

    Whatever it was closest to, it would have to be sheer rejection.

    Something in Tatyana seemed to shatter right then and there, but Edmond was beyond thinking any further on it.

    ¡°You¡¯re so full of yourself, thinking you know what¡¯s best for me. You come here all on your own, Claude and Kloel nowhere to be seen, and want to give me that nonsense?¡±

    ¡°Nonsense!?¡±

    Her rage was blatant not only from her expression, but also from her hand, which again gripped with such strength he may have screamed in a different situation. Still, Edmond made no attempt to shake it off, letting his uncompromising gaze and words do all the work.

    ¡°Did I stutter? You¡¯re telling me to stop doing all this myself¡­ Well, the same goes for you. You obsess over any of your mistakes, and will keep endangering yourself to make up for them, no matter what anyone tells you. Even now, you¡¯re all fixated on what I¡¯m doing because you can¡¯t forgive yourself! Or should I say, you can¡¯t stop wallowing?¡±

    ¡°¡­! Edmond, you really¡ª!¡±

    ¡°Are you upset?¡± Edmond somehow forced a grin, even while not at all happy or amused. ¡°Then just leave now. Do you need to hear me say it out loud? Well, I forgive you! I haven¡¯t ever resented you for your mistake, so just let me do what I want! I¡¯ve given you more than enough time to get over yourself!¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s grip on his arm trembled. Her fiery eyes were as strong as ever, just as merciless as he had come to expect from them, but there was something else in them now. Something he could not identify for sure.

    ¡°Are you seriously telling me this?¡±

    Edmond did not reply.

    He almost let himself glance away, overwhelmed by what he was causing, but did not. Instead, he finally reached for her hand with his own¡­ and put his utmost strength to make her let go.

    Tatyana¡¯s gaze was one of real confusion, anger, and shock most of all. Her teeth seemed to gnash together, suppressing the welling emotion, but she managed to force out more words.

    ¡°¡­ You clueless imbecile! Fine! If you¡¯re so amazing and don¡¯t need any help then just¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still not done? If I wanted to watch a teen drama I¡¯d stream it back at my place.¡±

    The new voice¡¯s invasion interrupted Tatyana.

    ¡­ No, it was not a new voice. As little as it was, there was some familiarity to it. Edmond had heard it before, and when both Tatyana and he turned, the air somehow felt ten times colder.

    A slender, smoothly curved build, with a hand of long, delicate fingers at her waist. Her otherwise well-cared for face now sported a still-healing scar, running from the center-right top of her lips all the way to her chin¡¯s left, and that long, flowing hair colored in pink and blonde was an unmistakable tell.

    Wildcard.

    Edmond¡¯s throat froze as if his body forgot how to breathe. Shivers rippled throughout him, and he felt an instinctive desire to back off and hide anywhere he could.

    But he was stopped by a stronger pressure on his hand. Tatyana¡¯s own, which he had been pulling off him, was now gripping it tightly. Not with the aggression from before, but as if to counteract all of Edmond¡¯s trembling with a feeling of security.

    Rather carelessly, in a reflex he could not stop, he turned¡­ and saw her looking only at him. As if Wildcard¡¯s presence was the lesser concern.

    Edmond took a deep breath before turning back to the Unmasked, but Tatyana did not let go of his hand. She probably knew that despite his best attempts to control his shaking, his nervousness had not decreased at all.

    And how could it? This woman, one of the most dangerous criminals in Seyfelt, had now seen him without his suit. Without his mask.

    Worst of all, beyond the way the woman¡¯s eyes turned to him, not even like an insect but more like a piece of litter to be kicked aside, was a visible¡­ understanding.

    ¡°So you really were a kid. I¡¯m getting so much from the pool¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with her. You know what you came here for, so just run and go for that.¡±

    Tatyana whispered those words and finally let go of his hand. She then stepped forward, like a wall between Wildcard and Edmond.

    The Unmasked¡¯s head tilted back slightly. Visibly amused, she spoke while stifling a chuckle.

    ¡°No need to cover him, girl. That text you got? We¡¯re the ones who sent it, so I don¡¯t think splitting up is the best choice for either of you now.¡±

    Edmond only half-listened after a certain point.

    They sent the text? The call for help he thought came from Finn?

    The fact not only he but also Tatyana had fallen into a trap was obvious, but it was somehow still a secondary concern.

    After all, how had they sent the message? Only the burner he gave to Finn should have had his own burner¡¯s contact recorded. And the password, which should only be known by him, the group, and Finn.

    Edmond thought more and more, and the chill inside him grew and spread so rapidly that he impulsively asked.

    ¡°You just¡­ No. Where is¡­ What did you do to¡­?¡±

    He could not finish one idea before starting with another one, panicked thoughts overtaking every corner of his mind.

    But Wildcard appeared to understand perfectly, her expression a wholly vindictive type of delight.

    ¡°If you¡¯re asking about the limp-dicked rat, I can¡¯t tell you much. All the rest of us got to check was the phone you gave him. Miasma got him so¡­ It¡¯s not really something I want to know any details about~!¡±

    From one moment to another, the chill within Edmond became blistering, painful heat. One that also did away with any remotely complex thoughts like embers in the wind.

    His fear and apprehension had not disappeared. They had not so much as shrunk, but something else had overtaken them completely.

    Something he had to do.

    He ignored Tatyana¡¯s voice, shook off a hand trying to hold him back and lunged toward Wildcard. He just had to reach her; once he did, once he got fist, blade and spell on her¡­ Whatever was needed to make her talk, he would rescue Finn and it would all be alright.

    It was not too late. She did not say he was too late. He could not be too late or else¡ª

    ¡ªEdmond was less than a meter away from the Unmasked when his field of vision spun. His legs had left the ground, his arms were like loose shoelaces, and his insides seemed about to burst from within him like a water balloon.

    He recalled the last time he had felt something similar, when he was punched by Hellbound, and his terror swelled when remembering his current location. How he might just fall all the way down to the street, to a fate with no guarantees that he could do nothing to avoid.

    His body flew for a split second before crashing and sliding across the concrete, but from luck that was nothing short of miraculous, he was barely stopped by the roof¡¯s raised lip at the very edge.

    ¡°¡­! A-Ahh¡­¡±

    But that was it for any upsides.

    What little movement Edmond could manage, the pathetic twitching he was allowed, was completely out of his control. Excruciating pressure radiated from the area around his liver toward everything else, like every organ in his body had ruptured into paste.

    He even started to doubt his very survival when the feeling of asphyxia only continued to deepen, no matter how much desperate effort went into his attempts to breathe.

    ¡°Still alive? I honestly thought you¡¯d be split in two, not wearing that costume and all.¡±

    Wildcard let out a small, frighteningly honest laugh.

    He could still somewhat move his eyes. Though his vision was blurred with tears, the enormous block of metal that stuck out of the roof tower, like an I-beam thickened to match its height, was impossible to miss.

    ¡°Edmond!¡±

    Snapping out of her initial shock, Tatyana ran toward him before stopping suddenly. With enough force to make the rooftop tremble, four partially overlapping blades burst and spread out before her, ranging from three to five meters long and while reaching one in width.

    ¡°That piece of shit can wait. It¡¯s you I came here for, so be mindful of that¡ª¡±

    Wildcard jumped to the left all of a sudden, higher than three meters.

    An arrow-like flash of silver light briefly occupied the place she had just been in, before bursting into exhausted dregs of prana and a cloud of smoke and dust. Not only the explosion, but even the trail of the spell caused the surroundings to heat up more than a summer day.

    Tatyana glared at the landing Wildcard with eyes just as fiery.

    ¡°Want me to make you all symmetrical or what?¡±

    Wildcard brought two fingers together as her smile widened forcefully, enough for Edmond to think the scar on her lips would tear further.

    ¡°You¡¯ll scream before I¡¯m done with you.¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s pupils darted around without delay.

    The attack began the instant Wildcard clicked her fingers, with a dense lightning bolt sprouting from the building behind her. Tatyana stepped aside with time to spare, but a halberd of red-hot metal cut through the air in her path as she did so, forcing her to leap above it in a decidedly closer call. A blob-like projectile of misty prana waited in that direction, but the girl predicted right this time, countering with a brilliant blaze from her left hand.

    The two spells collided into a mass of heat and noise that seemed to distort the surrounding air, while almost numbing Edmond¡¯s eardrums.

    She can detonate her traps whenever she wants!?

    He squirmed desperately. Even moving his fingers was difficult, but he could still draw in prana to an extent. Gritting his teeth, Edmond strengthened whatever parts of his body still responded to his will.

    ¡­ It was not enough. All he managed was to barely turn, now laying on his side. The extreme effort did away with any control he had achieved before, and he felt bile and stomach contents pour out of his mouth erratically.

    Damn it! Just move! I can¡¯t just¡­!

    But not all was stress for Edmond. After all, with his new position allowing him a better look at the unfolding battle, he saw Tatyana was holding her own quite well.

    In fact, it could be said she was dominating.

    Over a dozen of Wildcard¡¯s traps had been triggered by now. A flaming sword from above, a thick blizzard from the right, giant stone spears from above and below, a missile-like lump of light which turned back upon missing¡­!

    But no matter what they were, even while attentively covering for Edmond¡¯s downed form, Tatyana managed to dodge, parry, counter, and twist away from every attack. Not only that, but with each spell she prevailed against, she drew closer to Wildcard herself.

    The Unmasked clearly knew she could not compete in close quarters, moving constantly in a hasty retreat from whatever direction Tatyana approached, but the task was clearly becoming increasingly difficult. Tatyana closed the gap more often, her own attacks came closer to their mark each time.

    After all, Wildcard herself was not Tatyana¡¯s only target. Each spell she launched, no matter if it missed their initial target, continued to travel and more often than not, would trigger one or more traps of its own. With no traps, safe zones were created for her to move around.

    Their surroundings had been turned into Wildcard¡¯s territory ahead of time. That was her biggest advantage, both her offensive and defensive power and what allowed her to keep away from Tatyana for this long. But it was being dismantled by the second, and once she ran out of traps, it would be over for her.

    A fist covered in silver fire barely missed its mark, but the condensed conflagration reached beyond and singed the very tips of Wildcard¡¯s hair and shawl. The Unmasked escaped from the immediate danger, but she had been brought to the corner of the rooftop. Right or left would only bring her closer to the enemy, and there was no more room to move back.

    Her only escape was up, and Tatyana knew that. The knight cadet¡¯s motions were smooth, controlled and no slower for that, hinting at her having predicted and led things toward this outcome. She jumped high, back toward the wall of the neighboring, taller building.

    Edmond could see the outcome before it even happened. Tatyana would bounce off the safe zone, and whether Wildcard decided to jump or stay grounded, she would be tagged at last. She might withstand one of Tatyana¡¯s hits, but there was no way she could resist the unavoidable follow-up.

    This was the end.

    Tatyana¡¯s boots hit the brick wall, and¡ª

    ¡°¡­!?¡±

    A strident flare went off, worse than a dozen flashbangs at once.

    But¡­ didn¡¯t she clear that spot!?

    Edmond was already late to shut his eyes, but the suffering of his ears that he could not cover was much more of a problem. The numbing noise seemed to reverberate across his entire body, so much he thought his brain would melt and seep through whatever openings it could find.

    But within that sensory hellfire that had yet to wane, he somehow heard barely, yet undeniably distinct. A dry, striking and even sharp sound, or perhaps several. As unique as the noise of a bird being shot down, or a lizard being crushed underfoot.

    A suffocating sense of despair overwhelmed him, only growing further once he opened his eyes and saw, through the mesh of random colors in his vision that had yet to recover, the two silhouettes that approached.

    For only one walked, while the other was being dragged by an arm or leg, limp and defeated.

    A gleeful, repulsive voice reached Edmond¡¯s ringing ears, but he could not understand any words before a merciless kick went for his face.

    He was out in a matter of seconds.

 II-4.5: Rubicon

    At this time of the day, with a dark sky full of gray clouds, turning on the lights would only be natural. But not one out of the eighteen-odd in the residence, ranging from as old as thirty-nine to as young as fourteen years of age, dared speak up or even look at the switch.

    Not while Javier, the Unmasked criminal better known as Hellbound, remained satisfied. His large frame sat relaxedly on the couch, back straight up and right hand holding a novella he was about two thirds done with. Only one eye trailed across the page¡¯s contents, as the other was covered with a padded medical eyepatch.

    The living room, much like the house it belonged to, was very spacious. Even if it had not been cleared up in anticipation of today¡¯s event, eighteen people were nothing near the amount needed for it to feel cramped. Despite that, they had chosen to stick to one general direction, leaving much space in disuse.

    Javier did not think of this as anything unusual. Some of these people wore hoodies, others had gone for headbands or even rings. One had what appeared to be a sort of traditional face paint. All sharing the same purple color in only mildly differing shades. Violet Thorn members indeed, all of them beyond the basic level, so they did not meet often aside from taking cuts. Let alone waited alongside him for this long.

    He only stopped reading once he saw his workers separating in a panic, hurriedly making way for something.

    It was a leg. A lone leg, shin and foot without even the knee, had parted the scarce sea of people. But the disembodied appendage continued to move with eerie ease.

    As it did, stepping forward so normally, its corresponding knee came into sight. Visibility was not the best, but it was not like it was hidden, instead manifesting from thin air like a mirage.

    A second boot-covered foot stepped forth, shin and knee continuing an uncannily natural stride. Hips, waist, a torso and arms ending in bandaged hands appeared in the same manner, like the world itself was a filter obscuring the man, gradually unraveling to reveal the reality underneath.

    ¡°Wildcard just said she¡¯s good on her end. She wants more time to ¡®have fun¡¯, though.¡± His strong-jawed face coming into view last, Alain spoke to Javier and waved at the surrounding Thorns.

    Well, ain¡¯t that a surprise.

    The man himself shifted his brow in the slightest of ways, to a degree that not even Alain should have noticed, let alone the workers.

    The parasite within him did not speak on its own often, usually doing so to mock or in some odd sense of shock. Never for something that actually deserved a response, distracting as it was.

    ¡°There¡¯s no problem with that. She¡¯s dealing with two enemies, including one who could have been a real issue. We can think of it as her contribution in advance, so it¡¯s fine if she joins in later. What about the Scar-Tail¡¯s dealer?¡±

    Alain¡¯s expression became ominous on Javier¡¯s question, causing more than one Thorn to draw back.

    ¡°I left the matter with the rat to Miasma. He had his fill, so the body should be rotting by some alley now. Miasma¡¯s people are waiting by the Circine building, while mine are hanging with Wildcard¡¯s around the Becquerel. So, what now?¡±

    Javier let out an almost inaudible sigh of disappointment as he closed the small book. He put it aside on the wide couch, and then stood up.

    ¡°Our providers answered ten minutes ago.¡±

    A thick and strong hand approached his eyepatch. A finger slid under the band holding it, and Alain¡¯s smirk returned.

    ¡°Perfect.¡±

    Javier¡¯s eye was laid bare, and every Thorn in the room broke out in uncontrollable, visceral shivers. Fear? Revulsion? Certainly the case for most of them. But for a few, it was something completely different. Not even excitement, but admiration.

    From backpacks, guitar cases, waistbands and improvised holsters, all manner of tools were unfurled. A sword and a spear, clawed gloves, a staff that seemed to constantly change shape, arm braces with three barrels each. Some of the Thorns even had more than one, with no lack in terms of guns.

    But on Javier¡¯s end, the eye that had been revealed exceeded all that. It might have been crystal or might have been bone, but the orb of deep violet held little resemblance to what had once been a human organ. The alien material shone like white-hot metal and now extended further into the upper left of Javier¡¯s skull, piercing through his skin and turning him into more.

    And the Thorns could see, whether as a dream or nightmare come to life, as the crystalline growth swelled in overlapping, randomly directed spikes. With each second that passed, a warped sort of horn sprouted to life.

    ¡°We¡¯re off.¡±

    A budding king of hell commanded.

    <hr>

    ¡°You take really long to eat.¡± Max said in a surprisingly non-accusatory way, laying his head down on his crossed arms.

    ¡°I just want to enjoy it, come on.¡± Hildegard replied as she bit on another morsel of her dinner. Although, considering its size, it was weird to even consider it that.

    Even so, the taste of veal wrapped around thin ham and melted cheese was as wonderful as always. No matter how small the cut, this dish was always the best.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t there any food you feel like that about, Max? That you just wish would never run out?¡± The regret was almost cartoonishly obvious in her eyes and voice. Even at the glacial pace she ate, only two or three bites remained.

    Max abandoned his previous position, stretching his arms onto the table as he leaned back on the chair, legs slowly kicking below.

    ¡°Not really. I got so much white chocolate from Nina¡¯s birthday, ate it all that night and I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever like it again.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ alright.¡± From another person, Hildegard may have felt annoyed by the overly realistic reply. But from Max? She struggled to contain her laughter. ¡°You don¡¯t have to wait for me, though. It¡¯s cool if you want to go play your games.¡±

    The boy merely shook his head, his honey-brown eyes particularly firm.

    ¡°I want to enjoy you while you¡¯re still here.¡±

    Whatever miracle had allowed Hildegard to remain calm until now vanished promptly. Her cackling was shrill, seamless and almost seemed to echo of its own, forcing her to hold her stomach out of fear for some nasty consequences.

    ¡°Geez~! You really should mind how you talk, mister. You¡¯ll be so popular with some, but others will just glare at you!¡±

    ¡°¡­? Why?¡±

    Max tilted his head in confusion, and Hildegard could have easily laughed again.

    ¡°Hah¡­ Just¡­ consider it a tip for when you get older. Don¡¯t forget it, though.¡±

    ¡°Okay? Hey, when you¡¯re done with your food, want to watch me play?¡±

    The new, rather hastily spoken offer caused Hildegard¡¯s amused mood to shift.

    ¡°The game with the spies?¡±

    ¡°You can play if you like that better.¡± Max followed up, as if he had not heard her question. ¡°I can teach you real quick, and it¡¯s very cool. It¡¯s not really about shooting everyone, but about being sneaky and the story is really dark so¡ª¡±

    Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Hilda being here is still no excuse to ignore homework.¡± Isolde said from the stairs, accompanied by dry steps as she approached.

    Max¡¯s brow furrowed and his lips went tight, his expression similar to a glare but with a somewhat different emotion.

    ¡°It just gets you participation stuff. That¡¯s like nothing for my grades.¡±

    ¡°You kept saying that last year, and your card didn¡¯t show that. There¡¯s obviously something important about it.¡±

    The boy¡¯s eyes seemed so heavy all of a sudden, almost somber and perhaps a little embarrassed. He brought his arms back from the table and onto the chair¡¯s seat before hopping down.

    ¡°¡­ Hilda, want to help me with my homework?¡±

    The blonde was caught off guard by his request, but she did not have time to even ponder it before Isolde spoke again.

    ¡°Max¡­ You¡¯re not the only one.¡±

    Her voice was still strict, still dry, but there was something more to the message itself. Max¡¯s eyes looked visibly guilty while reluctance seemed to permeate from his every action, but no more than a few seconds passed before he walked off, almost dragging his feet over to the stairs.

    Hildegard waited for the dull sound of a door closing before speaking again.

    ¡°Well, someone here really likes being the big sister. He just wants to have some fun, you didn¡¯t have to put him down like that.¡±

    ¡°But you won¡¯t be able to leave unless I send him away.¡±

    Isolde¡¯s quick response caught her off-guard. Hildegard was not the type to feel ¡®at a loss for words¡¯, but she still found it very difficult to say what was needed.

    ¡°¡­ I guess he knew that too?¡± Her smile had weakened since a while ago, and remembering the seven-year-old¡¯s departure did it no favors.

    ¡°That much is obvious.¡±

    ¡°Not everyone is as sharp as you, Soldie.¡±

    Hildegard teased with knowing eyes as she stood up. Her plate now empty, she walked to the kitchen sink with single-minded focus.

    ¡°The dish washer¡¯s right there.¡± Isolde¡¯s voice came closer in tandem.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    Hildegard turned the faucet all the way to hot temperature and began scrubbing, first by hand, then by sponge. Steam rose quickly, blistering water splashing just beyond the sink. She noticed Isolde stopping her approach as a result.

    ¡°Can you at least give me some details? Even if it¡¯s just the time?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Mm, don¡¯t expect me for breakfast tomorrow.¡±

    It was annoying. Having to talk about this was so much worse than the borderline boiling water turning the skin of her hands crimson.

    But Isolde insisted, stepping forth again.

    ¡°What made you think this is necessary? There¡¯s no way Mondi is okay with it.¡±

    ¡°Hm? You thought that¡¯s what had me in a mood?¡±

    It had been a full minute since Hildegard noticed any traces on the plate. She narrowed her eyes and closed the tap, feeling the cold air on her almost swollen hands as she put the plate away, then began to dry them on her long sleeves.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t talked to him about this!?¡± Isolde¡¯s face she saw upon turning around was not one of mere confusion. Quite a bit of anger and fright had also seeped in. ¡°Max is one thing, but how can you keep it from Mondi!?¡±

    ¡°Because there¡¯s no point to it.¡±

    Hildegard only caught a glimpse of Isolde¡¯s dumbstruck expression as she walked off. Barely anything but the door past the dining table registered in her mind.

    ¡°You¡¯re the only one who can understand, Isolde. Even if it takes you some time.¡±

    ¡°¡­ What do you even mean?¡±

    Her approach was certain, but noticeably slower than before. About as much as Hildegard expected as she opened the door to an ugly, gray evening. The prana around her had reacted before she noticed.

    For an instant, Hildegard¡¯s maroon eyes looked as crimson as a pair of rubies.

    ¡°There¡¯s just¡­ so much that¡¯s off. Nothing makes sense about the way this world runs, and yet it keeps going the same way, no matter what. Things that so many hate, propped up because they¡¯re convenient to a few lucky ones.¡±

    Isolde did not respond. Even after several seconds, she remained quiet, but Hildegard had no need for an immediate reply.

    ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean all the lucky ones have to play along. It hasn¡¯t always been the case before, and it doesn¡¯t have to be now. So long as some decide to light the necessary matches, despite the cost¡­ Even such an order of things can collapse. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve imagined that happening, but deemed it pure fantasy.¡±

    Hildegard raised a hand wrapped in red by her face.

    Red¡­ Not just the scarlet haze of blood, dense prana that swirled around it. Her very skin was still throbbing, almost appearing to scream.

    It was irritating. She did not think twice before pulling a glove of black leather from her pocket, then another. The sort that were used for casual motorcycling and mechanic work.

    ¡°To not take the opportunity when it shows itself, to turn that fantasy into reality¡­ As one of the lucky few, wouldn¡¯t that be the worst? A refusal to change what hurts so many, because of convenience.¡±

    She pulled the glove tight, then tightened her hand into a fist. The scalding feeling was drowned by a different kind of pain.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to forgive me, Isolde. I just hope you, of all people, will think about this.¡±

    Hildegard¡¯s voice was quiet, almost subdued. But this time, she did turn to face the girl, after refusing to for so long.

    The face she saw was hard to read, aside from a conflict between worry and resignation that seemed to suffocate her.

    The least Hildegard could do was listen to her one more time, no matter how long it took.

    ¡°¡­ What do I tell Mom?¡±

    She regretted that bit of softness almost immediately.

    One second, Hildegard turned to look forward. By the next, she had vanished in a flare of crimson.

    <hr>

    The ceaseless noise invaded Claude¡¯s ears, causing his irritation to fester.

    It had reached levels even he himself considered concerning, as a fault in his judgment now or in the short term would make for severe consequences.

    But he could not help it. Even with the current emergency, he was stuck watching Kloel fiddle around the room in a painfully ineffectual manner. It was torture.

    ¡°This is bullshit. We¡¯re wasting so much time while not knowing how serious things could be.¡±

    He turned around, ready to leave this nonsense behind and start a much-needed, actual search. But Kloel was just close and fast enough to tug on his shirt before he could.

    ¡°And you think a blind search will be any better? We don¡¯t have a single lead to their whereabouts, not even a phone call or message. Even if you somehow found something on them, you might just walk head on into whatever¡¯s got them all quiet!¡±

    Her grip became stronger with each word, lilac eyes glaring down at him. He could have brushed her off, violently pushed that hand away to take his leave without further regard, but he could not neglect a concern so blatant.

    ¡°It would at least be something. Your way of going about this has just been to turn your apartment upside down for trinkets while I stand around doing what, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Tracking takes time and attention to detail, asshole! I¡¯d love to rush this and just get to them, but that¡¯s not how things go! It¡¯s not enough to just have objects they touched or used recently, the distance between us means I need items that can work as conductors and¡­¡±

    Claude still did not have it in him to keep listening to her rant.

    He managed to shake off Kloel¡¯s grip, but did not follow into the forceful exit he had thought of before. He avoided Kloel¡¯s gaze, instead looking at the thoroughly mangled bedroom as if it held the remedy to his powerlessness.

    Edmond¡¯s excuses for his exit were poor, but it would be a lie to say Claude and the others were not too distracted to immediately notice the deceit. He had already left by the time they did, in an obvious rush, and Claude would have followed after him if not for Tatyana¡¯s insistence on taking care of the issue. ¡®Insistence¡¯ meaning she had figured things out a tad before and ran off without saying anything.

    With the arrogance of that girl, it could have been that she was not as concerned about the preparations they needed for the Thorns¡¯ assault, and thus let her attention wander enough to notice something amiss.

    ¡­ No, that was just an excuse. For how annoying and problematic Tatyana was, he had been the one to let his focus fall into tunnel vision, allowing Edmond to slip past with a flimsy excuse.

    By the time he and Kloel became aware of what had happened, there was no way to know where Tatyana had gone. An immediate pursuit was out of the question, with phone calls as the next answer.

    Edmond, of course, only carried burners on him, but Tatyana did pick up, only to not really help in any real way. She had hung up quickly after seemingly addressing Edmond, which at least meant he was safe.

    But only at the time.

    The next phone call had been quickly shut down, perhaps due to whatever conversation was going on not ending yet. But the next attempt continued onto voice mail, as well as the next one. And then, there was no call at all. No ringing, like the phone had been turned off¡­ or something worse.

    Twenty minutes had passed since then. They had begun to take measures for the worst case scenario since much earlier, but the fact they had not reached back after all this time had all but confirmed their worrying suspicions.

    Suspicions that Claude could hardly do anything meaningful about, and if Kloel¡¯s obvious panic in her spellcasting said anything, she was not feeling very differently.

    However, it was during that brief moment of complete silence, the result of their heated exchange, that something unusual stood out. Something that was not new, but had been masked by their frantic activity.

    That percussion from before, small noises that he had attributed to Kloel¡¯s search for any objects that could work as conductors, was heard again. Maybe due to his increased attention, it also sounded louder.

    The elf¡¯s own reaction all but confirmed the abnormality of the event. If anything, the way her eyes went wide and her lips remained slightly agape hinted at an even greater shock.

    ¡°Did you hear that?¡±

    Kloel¡¯s response was to brusquely push him aside and rush past, outside the room and into the corridor. Claude was so surprised he did not resist in the slightest, and only followed her after a second to group up his racing thoughts.

    The noise continued. Faster, louder and with an almost brittle quality to it.

    He saw Kloel standing near the end of the corridor for a moment, before slowly, nervously stepping back. Unlike her movements, her eyes had settled, almost frozen on the unusually thin door.

    The only door with a unique, matte knob that was shaking uncontrollably, much like the door itself.

    Claude knew something was seeping through it. He did not have to put any effort into his sensing to know the prana around them was being invaded and tinged by something different, making even him unable to take another step.

    Interest? Fright? Awe?

    He did not have time to identify what exact feeling swelled within him, not before that door splintered and burst away, revealing an utterly peerless presence.

 II-5: No Holds Barred

    Tatyana¡¯s awakening was oddly sluggish, especially considering the piercing, reverberating echo that may have caused it. Such an inconvenience would usually be concerning, or at least extremely annoying, but this time she was not capable of thinking that. Her mind¡¯s full attention was not on her stupor, the earlier noise or even the tremors that had just now stopped, but rather on the sheer discomfort she was experiencing.

    Some of it was significant pain, present throughout most of her body but stronger around the back of her neck, radiating to the right side of her back. The majority seemed to stem from her awkward position, though. She tried to shift around as a result, and quickly realized she could not.

    ¡­ No way.

    To say she was bleary was putting it nicely, but the sensation on her limbs was unmistakable. Both her wrists and her ankles were greeted by a sharp, restrictive feeling. Her vision still unfocused, it was the dull jangling of pulled links that confirmed she was bound by cuffs or manacles.

    Her mouth was dry, plagued by a pungent, bitter taste with her tongue depressed under a lump of crumpled material. It could have easily made her retch in disgust from an instinctive attempt at gasping, but several strips of something sturdy and sticky had been plastered over her lips, covering them and preventing even that.

    She had not stopped trying to gather prana while analyzing her situation. While reasonably strong, her restraints were far from what was needed to withstand her spells. But of course, the possibility of such an escape was wishful thinking.

    Tatyana knew basic information about the gear used by law enforcement to apprehend powered individuals, but for someone as comfortable with sorcery as her, personally experiencing the lack of any complex control over her regulators was downright scary. Worse than that, any scarce prana she managed to gather was scattered and repelled before it even came near her, like withered leaves in the wind.

    The gradual realization of the situation she was in made Tatyana¡¯s heartbeat rush, her breathing frantic.

    Come on, damn it. Damn it! Worrying does nothing. I¡¯m better than this!

    With her limited range of movement a constant bother, she squirmed just enough to let herself fall onto the cold floor, forcibly attempting to recover her focus. The crash of her right shoulder and hip on the solid concrete was as painful as expected, but even if by mere coincidence, Tatyana could see somewhat better by the time the ache lessened.

    Upon looking around, she noticed she was in a very spacious room¡­ No, not exactly. It was big for sure, but the lack of any furniture or decorations made it look even larger. It did not appear to be particularly clean, much less new, which made her think any such things had been removed not too long ago. The black paintjob was old, dusty and rubbing off in a few places. There were no windows, but cracked gaps in the closed door allowed some light to seep in and¡­

    ¡­ Looking below the door, Tatyana¡¯s eyes went wide as she noticed someone else in the room with her. She did not need much light or to stand up straight to know it was Edmond laying across the soot-covered floor.

    Both his arms appeared to be stuck behind him, ankles held together by pitch-black cuffs and his mouth was covered by several strips of thick tape. Just about as vulnerable as Tatyana was.

    That tape¡­ Is it also what¡¯s bundled up inside? Gross¡­

    Her disgust was such that she had to actively remind herself of the consequences of giving into nausea with her mouth blocked. Desperate for any distraction, she focused on Edmond again.

    Very noticeable bruises were beginning to show around a seemingly broken nose and the left side of his face, but she did not see any severe injuries. She could not feel relieved, however, as it became very apparent that he was still unconscious.

    Fucking hell, you can¡¯t do this now! Wake up already!

    Tatyana did what she could, hitting her boots against the hard floor and raising a muffled, wordless voice to the rough best she was capable of. Nothing worked.

    Would she have to hit him, despite the condition he was already in? The idea was loathsome, infuriating to even be considered. But beyond her anger, Tatyana felt pathetic most of all.

    Only she could be blamed for their bleak circumstances. She knew for a fact her landing spot was clear when fighting Wildcard, and even now she was baffled by the trap which had taken her by surprise, leaving her a free target for the following attacks. How did that bitch even form a new trap without alerting her? Tatyana¡¯s sense was competent and her regulators were on high activity. While she was mainly focused on the battle, the idea that a developed spell trap could be set without her being even remotely aware was ridiculous.

    ¡­ She had been careless. She should not have taken her advantage for granted until Wildcard was down on the ground, and now someone else was paying the price with her.

    It¡¯s not too late. We need to get out of here.

    She took a deep breath through her nose, and moved herself however she could. She turned onto her legs and rear with great strain, then guided awkward, persistent efforts toward Edmond, cuffed hands and feet pushing against the floor in parallel.

    She would have to hit Edmond. Probably quite hard, as he had been unfazed by all the noise Tatyana had been making and even the tremoring from before. But that was still preferable to whatever these psychos had in store for the two of them.

    He would wake up, he had to. If they helped each other, they might just be able to undo the cuffs and begin an escape. She had no idea how long she had been out for, but there could still be some time before¡ª

    ¡°Oh my, already awake and about, miss lighter~?¡±

    The sound of the door opening, followed by the voice of a glaring Wildcard, made an almost shocking chill spread through Tatyana¡¯s body.

    She barely got half of the way to Edmond, and now a completely different crisis had presented itself. The crazy Unmasked responsible for their current situation, less than two meters away from either of them. And this time, they could not even move properly, let alone fight back against anything she wanted to do.

    ¡°Was it the huge blast from earlier? Oh, you should¡¯ve seen the actual thing. If I were guessing, it¡¯s probably our lovely helpers tearing those trainers of yours a new one!¡±

    Why was she even telling her that? There was no way it was useful.

    Then again, Wildcard seemingly knew everything Finn had revealed about their plans. The confirmation of suspicions held by Tatyana and the others was of no concern, so this was just taunting. Plain, simple and insufferable mockery.

    ¡°Oh well, whatever got you up is irrelevant. I¡¯m just glad, you know? I¡¯ve waited a long time¡­¡±

    Tatyana was hardly listening to the Unmasked¡¯s words, her mind racing as she tried to think of any possible edge she could use in this situation. It quickly proved to be a mistake, as she failed to brace herself in time for the boot that dug into her gut, fast and strong.

    She almost lost her breakfast then and there, her eyes closing shut almost painfully.

    ¡°Wise up, bitch. We¡¯re only getting started.¡±

    Wildcard¡¯s stomp followed into a merciless kick at Tatyana¡¯s side, shoving her all the way to the wall she had wriggled away from. Not only her side, but also her head ended up hitting the cold and unforgiving concrete, producing a ringing pain that only intensified her nausea. She struggled to even open her eyes, and the first thing she saw once she managed to was Edmond, as far away as he was when she started.

    Sharp pain then burst at her left ankle, when Wildcard stomped on it one¡­ two times, leaving her foot down on the second one, grinding by the corner between wall and floor. Tatyana bit down on the foul wad of tape in her mouth, hard enough that her gums ached as she refused to let out anything more than a grunt.

    ¡°I told you what would happen, didn¡¯t I? But you can¡¯t really scream if you¡¯re knocked out, so it¡¯s only now that I really get to have fun¡­¡±

    She looked up at Wildcard; at her big, hazel eyes and rosy, smirking lips. Seeing nothing but enjoyment and satisfaction in them, Tatyana realized she was in for a slow, difficult time.

    But what of it?

    Her turquoise eyes narrowed into a piercing glare so naturally, without any restraint, and only then did the Unmasked¡¯s expression seem to falter with some irritation.

    ¡°Get a clue, you piece of shit.¡±

    She kicked Tatyana in the stomach next. She did not get to see anything but Wildcard¡¯s approaching boot, but it certainly felt like she had put some extra movement into it. Forget throwing up; for a moment, she felt like she could have blacked out. But the Unmasked did not stop, and kicked her between and below the ribs, twice more.

    ¡°You know what? This is bullshit. You messed up my face? Then let¡¯s see what I can do with yours!¡±

    Tatyana felt herself being lifted by her shirt, her face greeted by what probably was Wildcard¡¯s fist. She did not get to see properly, but it certainly felt like it. Wildcard¡¯s tight grip prevented her body from falling back on her side, and another one hit quickly, dead center rather than on the right this time.

    Tatyana held her breath when Wildcard let go of her shirt, correctly expecting her kicks to land on her face next. She failed to keep count of the blows this time, only noticing the long-haired criminal occasionally bringing her up onto a sitting position for the next.

    Wildcard¡¯s boot loudly stomped on her face, right against the wall, and Tatyana could not help but wonder if it was actually the first time she had done so, or if even that had slipped her mind. Her nose bled, as did her right cheek from a stinging cut on it, while her hearing, sight and even thoughts struggled to varying degrees.

    But even then, once Wildcard removed her foot from her face, Tatyana¡¯s glare had only grown in its intensity. She amusedly pondered, on the verge of genuine laughter, if the pathetic bitch could see her smirking behind the tape.

    From a brow so furrowed as to look painful and pupils that seemed to shrink, Tatyana felt confident in saying ¡®yes¡¯.

    ¡°You really want to play this game, little bitch? Fuck that. I don¡¯t have to humor you.¡±

    Tatyana briefly saw one of Wildcard¡¯s hands going into her right pocket, but could not ascertain more before the other hand seized her neck like a vice, forcing her to instinctively shut her eyes. When she managed to open them again, Tatyana saw an extended switchblade, no more than two centimeters away.

    ¡°I never got all the fuss about eyes like yours. Blue? Green? I¡¯m sure your parents would get real pissed off if I got them wrong. But since you¡¯re just going to keep giving me that look, I¡¯ll cut them out and never get the chance to mess that up!¡±

    Tatyana felt like the whole world had stopped at that moment. Frozen solid.

    ¡°Oh, but don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be sure to apologize to the cockroach over there when he wakes up. He probably likes them quite much~.¡±

    Ten centimeters of sharp steel drew near, cold as dry ice when pressed to her brow. The blade slid as smoothly as water, and it was the warmth of her own blood, trailing past her eyelid, that allowed her surroundings to move once more.

    Tatyana tried to ignore it, outright reject it as much as she could, but the realization of the situation¡¯s inevitability continued to leak into every corner of her mind no matter what. Wildcard had no reason to spare her, and neither she nor Edmond could do much to stop her.

    She tightly held her hands together, desperately trying to resist her visceral shivering. Her jaw hurt so much, teeth biting harder than ever on the gag as she braced herself for what was coming.

    Even so, it was within the darkness of such fear that she arrived at a very natural answer.

    Wildcard would remain disappointed, as Tatyana would never give her what she wanted. There was no way she would lose herself because of such a miserable imbecile, no matter the situation she dragged her into.

    So what if she wanted to blind her? Then the last she would see of Tatyana¡¯s eyes would be no different from before. A look that, better than any words, would let her know that she simply was no match.

    In the end, though, Tatyana¡¯s glare did almost falter. Not because of fear, and certainly not because of pain. Instead, the reason was that Wildcard stopped her blade right at the corner of Tatyana¡¯s eye, and then pulled it back to her side.

    Her expression was one of raw fury and frustration, quickly descending into a palpable disappointment.

    ¡°You¡¯re so fucking annoying.¡±

    Another hit came right after, so quick that Tatyana failed to prepare herself at all for it, just barely managing to hold on to consciousness as her head hit the floor. The switchblade¡¯s handle was hard and narrow in a way Wildcard¡¯s previous strikes were not, and the sharp pain it caused kept lingering on Tatyana¡¯s cheekbone several seconds after.

    ¡°I would¡¯ve preferred to have your lame-ass boyfriend wake up first, but if you¡¯re going to keep playing ¡®tough girl¡¯ with me¡­¡±

    Wildcard walked away, but her words made a different, intense anxiety shock Tatyana¡¯s body instantly. Any pain she had gone through was now a secondary concern, neglected as she forced her body back up and saw the Unmasked crouching next to Edmond.

    His upper body had been somewhat lifted by a rough grip on his hair, and Wildcard¡¯s switchblade was pressed right by his closed right eye.

    ¡°¡­ Maybe I should try with his~?¡±

    Tatyana felt as if some white-hot barrel inside her fired off.

    Her eyes went wide and sharp in the purest rage and she mentally cursed her inability to speak, once more. Her garbled voice was almost animalistic, and if her priorities were different, she would have been surprised at how loudly it came out.

    This time, however, such anger and defiance caused nothing but delight to show in Wildcard¡¯s visage. Her smile grew in such a way Tatyana thought it could have reached her ears, with eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

    ¡°Oh yes! That¡¯s much better, miss~. If you get like this with just his eyes, then how about I keep going? Maybe I¡¯ll do ears next, then his nose. Make a real smooth mannequin out of him¡­¡±

    The Unmasked¡¯s musings got little extra reaction from Tatyana, if only because the sight before her was overwhelming on its own.

    Wildcard¡¯s switchblade pressed harder, and a fine line of red appeared by Edmond¡¯s temple. Crimson liquid oozed like condensation on a cold glass, all happening so fast. So Tatyana had to act even faster. Fast enough that no manner of complex thoughts could ever hope to keep up.

    She was still right by the wall, her mostly immobile hands touching it, legs grounded. That was all she needed to know before rushing forth, pushing against the wall and floor with every bit of strength her body retained.

    Tatyana had aimed for Wildcard¡¯s face, but her starting position was worse than awful, getting rid of any real accuracy in her tackle. Not that it mattered much, as her head hit the only marginally inferior target area that was the criminal¡¯s upper abdomen.

    Tatyana¡¯s skull felt her enemy¡¯s sternum and ribs only momentarily before she dropped to the floor, face-first. Despite the painful hit, she did not miss the three noises that likely belonged to the switchblade being dropped, Edmond falling on the floor much like her¡­

    ¡°Shit! Y-You fucking bitch¡­!¡±

    ¡­ and Wildcard hitting the opposite wall.

    A mere lucky headbutt was of course not enough to bring her down. Edmond was safe, the switchblade away, but for how long?

    There was no time to relax. Tatyana¡¯s breath quickened as she squirmed to her utmost, exerting every useful muscle to the limit. Her position had been even worse than before her tackle, but she managed to somewhat recover and face up quickly enough to feel a modicum of success.

    Only to find herself staring at a pistol barrel.

    ¡°You¡¯re done.¡±

    Wildcard had not even tried to go back for the switchblade. Why would she?

    Tatyana would have mentally agonized over her assumptions once more, but what else could she have done this time? What could she do now?

    ¡­ What could she do? All her thoughts converged for whatever fraction of a second she was allowed, but it was possible even several minutes would not be enough to find a solution.

    Like Wildcard said, it seemed she was d¡ª

    Almost as soon as she entered it, Tatyana was brought out of her stupor by the firearm suddenly flicking beyond sight. In fact, all of Wildcard had, as she fell to the floor with a loud thump that almost felt painful by itself.

    Another round of expletives was released, but Tatyana did not pay them any mind as she turned with single-minded focus toward Edmond, now conscious and rushing toward Wildcard with a side press toward the arm that barely held on to the gun.

    Had he woken up from hitting the floor after her charge? Or maybe all the noise and general rough handling building up? Either way, he had bought them a few more seconds by tackling Wildcard¡¯s legs from under her.

    Tatyana kicked her struggles into high gear once more, approaching as fast as she could. Wildcard had been taken by surprise, she was probably in pain and her position was less than ideal, but Edmond still had both his arms and legs cuffed.

    ¡°Get the fuck off me, you bastard! You¡¯re so fucking annoying!¡±

    Shot after shot was fired from the Unmasked¡¯s gun, loud on release and after hitting whatever wall she happened to aim at. Ricochets were a risk, but Tatyana could not afford to stop. Not when she saw, despite her senses being dulled by the cuffs, prana gathering on Wildcard¡¯s other hand and beginning to turn visible.

    ¡°¡ª!¡±

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Edmond¡¯s eyes, violent and borderline bestial since he regained consciousness, strongly shut all of a sudden. Tatyana saw the scarlet tear at his thigh and felt an instinctive, regretful relief that the bullet had merely grazed him.

    She was so close now, but so was Wildcard to completing her spell. If she managed to cast it, then there would be nothing to¡ª

    Another blasting noise practically knocked her very thoughts out of her. Loud and reverberating, more extreme in every sense than anything before it, including the explosion that had woken her up to begin with.

    After regaining some awareness, Tatyana saw that Edmond and Wildcard had stopped their struggle. It was much easier to notice now, as things had suddenly become a lot brighter.

    Still, she doubted their shellshocked, frozen expressions were because of the ceiling being torn away, literally. After all, even to her, it was the enormous pair of membranous wings that drew the most attention. Spreading over fourteen meters across and coated in jet-black scales where a bat would have fur; the same organite scales that covered the multi-ton creature of wonder that peered within with icy blue, reptilian eyes.

    Its large, fanged maw unfurled to give way to a bellow unmistakable for any other sound, and Tatyana could finally relax.

    They were saved.

    <hr>

    For a split second, Edmond had forgotten all about Wildcard, his injuries, and even Tatyana.

    Gripping the edges of the open ceiling with claws like daggers, strong enough to spread even more cracks across, the newly appeared dragon made everything else seem irrelevant.

    Just thinking of that made him doubt his eyes. A dragon? The sight was unmistakable, but still so ridiculous.

    He was brought back to proper awareness when the roaring jaw approached, stretched into the room by a relatively long, vaguely S-shaped neck. He would have rushed back without a second thought if not for Wildcard¡¯s two-legged kick to his stomach doing the job for him.

    ¡°This is insane! What the fuck¡¯s with all this!?¡± She yelled as she mounted a desperate retreat despite her poor footing, gun on the floor for some leverage.

    ¡°They¡¯re here!¡±

    A familiar voice made Edmond turn back to the perching dragon. Or rather, just past its right side, where the silhouettes of Kloel and then Claude stepped up. But after they hopped down, it was only Kloel that approached him and Tatyana.

    Their eyes went wide in confusion as they saw Claude walk toward Wildcard instead, but Edmond, while just as concerned, expected this all along.

    ¡°You¡¯re done.¡± He declared coldly as luminous prana gathered around his raised hand.

    Wildcard¡¯s brow furrowed fearlessly in response, taking aim at him with both her gun and a complete spell on her other hand.

    ¡°As if!¡±

    Only three more shots were released from the pistol before it apparently ran out of ammo, but the ¡®bullet¡¯ of light blue prana coming from the other side compensated for more than ten.

    But Claude rushed forward without hesitation, waving his hand three times as soon as his own spell completed. Within a single second, Wildcard¡¯s bullets lost their momentum and were deflected in a warped state, all the while her prana shot split apart into uneven pieces before fully dispersing.

    Held in Claude¡¯s hand was a blade like a falchion, made of a material most similar to translucent glass that cleanly reflected boy and surroundings alike. He followed from his ending position into another swing with impeccable smoothness, toward the shellshocked Wildcard.

    His eyes suddenly darted in a panic, however, when an all-new threat forced him to interrupt his attack and brusquely leap back. It was only when he landed back on the floor that the mysterious assailant became fully visible.

    The lanky Unmasked Phantom, playfully swinging his wired hook like a ball on a string, now stood between them and Wildcard.

    ¡°Damn it, I¡¯m oh for two against you lot now. You¡¯re good, man.¡±

    ¡°Your weapon is dogshit, that¡¯s all there is to it.¡± Claude replied, seemingly unbothered by the red wetness spreading from the tear on his shoulder.

    ¡°I prefer to see it as a tool, you know? It has its uses.¡±

    Still, Phantom acted even more casual.

    ¡°The fuck are you doing here? I sent everyone off long ago.¡±

    Wildcard asked as she finally rose back to her feet, her attitude oddly pushy considering she had almost been slashed just a few seconds ago.

    He did not even look at her as he spoke back, his full attention on Claude, Kloel and the dragon growling with increasing loudness.

    ¡°You stopped checking messages, let alone responding. Hellbound wanted me to check up on you and I can¡¯t be bothered to argue with him. Turns out you really were in the shitter, eh?¡±

    ¡°Fuck you. There¡¯s no way I could have predicted this.¡±

    While Wildcard and Phantom had their discussion, Kloel was helping Tatyana back on her feet, then Edmond, whom she also pushed relatively hard to the wall.

    ¡°Up you go. Now, and I mean it, please stay completely still for a moment.¡±

    He worried instantly. Being told to do something with such strictness, yet not knowing the ¡®why¡¯ lent itself to such feelings of concern.

    He did not have to feel that way for long, the suspense giving way to panic when he heard¡­ felt the wall itself tearing behind him. It happened so fast as to seem unnatural, cold outside air now blowing behind him through the large gouge. More than that, he noticed his wrists and ankles being freed at the same time, a ¡®pop¡¯ oddly similar to opening a can of soda just barely heard past the noise of breaking concrete.

    The two criminals were still in the same room, but Edmond could not help but turn around for any answers on whatever just happened. He soon wished he had waited a tad more, as that was the moment he first came face-to-face with the black dragon. Were it not for the tape still sticking to his face, he may have shamefully gasped. Just maybe.

    The dragon was hovering right outside the destroyed wall, front claws at the floor¡¯s edge. Had it simply brought them from the ceiling¡¯s edge down, tearing walls and cuffs alike in one swoop?

    He turned to Tatyana next, who was already onto the task of removing her gag, indifferent to the similar gap in the wall behind her. Kloel addressed her perhaps a tad too early.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to believe things were this bad, for you to have Sig break out of the door.¡±

    ¡°Bwah¡­ Is that what happened? I can barely remember, things around the time I blacked out are still a little vague.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just¡­! Look, how did things come down to this, anyway?¡±

    Sig? Was that the dragon¡¯s name? The ¡®door¡¯ mention specifically made a jolt of realization strike Edmond¡¯s mind. He ripped away the tape on his own mouth soon after, but Tatyana spoke before he could ask anything.

    ¡°There¡¯s no time to explain, Klo. These fuckheads already began the assault, we need to move fast.¡±

    What?

    Edmond felt like his throat had been blocked. Even conscious awareness and effort to breathe would probably be insufficient before long.

    Kloel did not reply to Tatyana¡¯s words, instead narrowing her eyes in a rather aggressive manner as she looked back at the two Unmasked. Stared down by both her and Claude, Phantom still greeted their glares with a calm that was nearly insufferable.

    ¡°She¡¯s right. Here you may have the two of us, but Hellbound and Miasma are leading the bulk of our guys. We¡¯re talking dozens of brutes added to those two, all armed to the teeth in every way you can think of and hitting your people where it hurts.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re really going to be this obvious? All you want is for us to let you bounce.¡± Kloel answered dryly, so soon she almost interrupted him.

    Phantom chuckled, catching the swinging hook back at its base.

    ¡°Neither y¡¯all nor us want to waste any more time here, so why be vague?¡±

    ¡°Just fuck right off and maybe you¡¯ll be in time to help out one of the schmucks over there. If you¡¯re lucky, they might just be in two pieces!¡± Wildcard added.

    Such contempt would have infuriated Edmond in different circumstances, but this time all it did was further increase his anxiety to levels beyond unbearable.

    He still could not forget about Finn, and his lack of knowledge on the matter regarding him was too stressful. Now, his worries were flooded by the many more people at the facility, caught up in a disaster they had no way to prepare for. His own peers, the instructors, and even unpowered workers.

    Hilda. If she had stayed on any business, training or just doing research¡­

    Edmond could no longer distinguish his own thoughts. As if his mind was constantly pulled in different directions, no single idea stayed long enough for him to identify, let alone plan anything.

    Everything felt cold, but he was still sweating so much. He knew showing any weakness before these two assholes was the worst thing he could do, but not even gripping his wrist until it hurt could stop his trembling.

    The growing tightness in his chest incessantly alerted him to his lack of breath, but he was powerless to change that. It was like he was seeing his body from the outside, unable to control it in any way.

    ¡­ No. If it was about ¡®seeing¡¯, the picture in his eyes had begun to grow fainter and less coherent since a while ago, darkening by the second and¡ª

    ¡°I thought you were smarter than this. You really think we¡¯re in the same situation?¡±

    It was not Kloel¡¯s words that knocked the chills, along with the wind, out of Edmond. Rather, it was a bag that was not too heavy, but containing something hard and reasonably heavy.

    He only saw it on the floor, falling dryly after hitting him in the abdomen, but upon looking up from it he saw Claude¡¯s extended hand. The one not holding his sword of glass.

    Without looking back, he had thrown that and managed to distract him enough to listen to whatever was about to be said. Edmond glanced aside next, toward a Kloel with piercing, focused eyes.

    ¡°What matters here is there¡¯s two of you, and five of us.¡±

    Unusually, Phantom and Wildcard showed expressions of confusion rather than anger or disregard.

    ¡°You think you can just blitz us down or something?¡±

    ¡°Oh please.¡± Kloel spat out. ¡°Tanya, you two can head over to the facility with Sig. Claude and I are enough for these guys.¡±

    Edmond doubted what he had just heard. Claude was one thing, but while he had not known Kloel for long, he did not expect this to be her intention.

    He did not get to speak up before feeling Tatyana¡¯s hand on his chest, stopping any words from coming out. She looked at him with a gaze that blatantly questioned his apprehensions, but¡­ this time it was different.

    ¡°Just¡­¡±

    As unfair as it felt, enough to make him want to scream, Edmond had to make a decision. And he had to make it fast.

    ¡°¡­ do you remember what they¡¯re about?¡±

    Endangering some people to help others. Not just Claude and Kloel, but also Finn whom he would cruelly force to wait even more.

    It was hypocritical nonsense, one step backward for every step forward. It was not what he wanted, far from what he had worked so hard for. Choices that would fill him with regret from beginning to end, no matter which one he went for.

    But he had to accept the world would not wait for him to become capable enough. Fairness was a lie, for why would a superhero be necessary if it existed?

    ¡°You mean their powers? It¡¯s only a few days ago we talked about them. I¡¯m not so forgetful.¡± Kloel replied confidently, already gathering indigo prana particles around her.

    Edmond felt nauseous. It was a completely different discomfort from earlier, rousing hot anger at himself rather than cold anguish.

    He thought of Hilda, Finn¡¯s sister he had promised to help, as well as classmates and workers he did not know the names of. He consciously kept every inch of his awareness on them to the point of whispering it under breath, trying everything to keep his focus strong.

    More than anger, more than pressure and anxiety, he feared the mistakes he might make if he did not do that.

    ¡°¡­ Alright. We¡¯ll go face Hellbound and the others.¡±

    ¡°Edmond¡­¡± He heard Tatyana¡¯s voice beside him, breathy in her astonishment.

    The wrong decision. The right choice. Remorse and assurance came over him at every moment, a conflict that could easily tear his mind apart. All he knew for sure was that he needed to act before that happened.

    Finally, Edmond reached for the bag he had been given.

    ¡°Fuck off with this nonsense!¡±

    But before he could take hold of it, he saw Wildcard lifting her arm out the corner of his eye. The floor around her shone with an electric blue glow, and not even a second after, a sudden burst of prana hid her and almost Phantom from sight, spreading dust and debris everywhere.

    A barrier spell took form right before Kloel, covering her, Edmond and Tatyana from the worst of it, but when it came to Claude¡­

    ¡°You will not!¡±

    ¡­ he merely cleaved through the explosion¡¯s aftereffects with his weapon, revealing a torn hole in the room¡¯s floor where Wildcard had just stood, and that Claude then jumped into.

    ¡°W-Wait! There¡¯s stuff about her you don¡¯t know yet!¡±

    Edmond hurried forward, but was stopped by Tatyana¡¯s tight grip on his forearm just as quickly.

    ¡°Just trust him, please! I know what you mean, but Kloel¡¯s right about our only edge here! We¡¯re out of time, so let¡¯s just deal with Hellbound quickly, and then we can help!¡±

    He gritted his teeth at her words. She was simply being logical, but seeing Claude run off right before his eyes made even that difficult to accept. His hands went tight into fists, pressed to the extent of hurting, and he shook Tatyana¡¯s hand off as it helped him turn around.

    Toward the dragon?

    ¡°Not going to help her out?¡±

    The last thing he saw out the corner of his eye was Kloel addressing the unscathed Phantom.

    ¡°You¡¯d just cut me off if I tried, right? I can see how she¡¯s doing after killing you, makes no difference.¡±

    Edmond stopped in his tracks.

    And how could he not, hearing such words spoken with such casual disregard? Like it was but a mere chore to get past?

    He would have turned back around if not for Tatyana continuing to push him toward the openings in the wall, where the black dragon ¡®Sig¡¯ laid down its bulky tail as an apparent path.

    This in itself was something Edmond found ridiculous, that she of all people would force him away when Kloel confronted such callous violence. But when he pushed further, turning to at least say something¡­

    ¡­ the face he saw, unnatural and outright pitiful in its shiver-plagued attempt to remain poised, did away with any words he had thought of.

    ¡°Big talk for someone begging us to let him escape.¡± Kloel followed upon his words without a hint of nervousness. Edmond could hear a laugh of genuine enjoyment from Phantom.

    ¡°Hah¡­ Well, I¡¯m not the type to waste time insisting on stuff. I offered the best outcome for everyone, you shot me down. So we go the other route, and that¡¯s it.¡±

    Tatyana stepped onto the massive creature¡¯s tail, finished walking out of the building through the gap in the wall, and then let herself fall into a sitting position. Sliding down the slightly inclined body with her legs forward, she stopped right by Sig¡¯s wings.

    It all looked oddly smooth, practiced, but Edmond still found himself unable to advance until she outright beckoned at him.

    He inhaled deeply, then took his first step on the dragon¡¯s tail, which was¡­ solid. Not like steel or concrete, but rather like his Nemesis suit. That much allowed him to relax somewhat, at least due to knowing he was producing no discomfort to the creature that would make it snap at him. Probably.

    He did away with useless thoughts and continued onward, allowing himself to fall and sit much like Tatyana did, sliding until he was right behind her.

    There was no warning before the massive wings began to flap more quickly, powerfully and wildly as Sig raised its head and long neck in another direction. Edmond was caught completely off-guard, and he found himself hugging Tatyana¡¯s torso for stability before he could think.

    ¡°See you later, Klo!¡±

    The single-minded focus of her words, however, made his brewing panic lesser, more bearable.

    Tatyana was no doubt in conflict herself, pained by her own decisions. But if Kloel was committed to dealing with one battle of her own, it was simple respect to address the other one, that which her efforts cleared the path for.

    There was no difference. It was¡­ what he had to do as well. To have faith, acknowledge their ability and will, as they did with Tatyana¡¯s and his own.

    Edmond looked back and saw Kloel¡¯s hand extended in a casual wave, a sight that quickly became smaller as the violent flapping of the dragon¡¯s wings took him and Tatyana increasingly far, with only the glimmer of combat sorcery remaining after a certain point.

    ¡°Belittling them helps no one.¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s strict words brought his attention back to the front. The stressful realization that he was flying at an increasing altitude had just begun to set in, only for his mind to be yanked in another direction once more.

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to¡­ No, you¡¯re right. There¡¯s already so much going on.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m sorry. Me belittling you is just as useless. I¡¯m just¡­ We have enemies of our own to take care of, and things won¡¯t go well unless we¡¯re focused.¡±

    Edmond pondered over her words, his eyes upon the majestic creature soaring past seventy meters above the street.

    ¡°Even for a Crowned One?¡±

    Tatyana herself turned for the first time, only one of her sharp turquoise eyes visible. Confusion was clear, and the lack of denial all but confirmed things. Edmond continued.

    ¡°A fucking dragon is at your command¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll punch you in the mouth if you ever say that again. I don¡¯t boss Sig around; he respects me and I do the same for him.¡±

    ¡°¡­ S-Sorry. Well, befriending a dragon at all is already the stuff of legend, but from what Kloel said, he also lives past that weird door in your apartment? I¡¯m not going to ask what kind of spatial manipulation rune you snagged for that to be possible, but there¡¯s also the fact he was the one to find us¡­ I think, at least. Some kind of astral connection? One that remains even after you blacked out and were put in cuffs that mess up most sorcery? And there¡¯s also how you acted back¡ª¡±

    ¡°Okay, I get it! That¡¯s enough.¡± Tatyana¡¯s eye narrowed, then closed slowly as she sighed. ¡°I said it before, I don¡¯t remember exactly what happened, but there wasn¡¯t much more I could have done in that situation. I guess once I noticed I couldn¡¯t continue fighting, I sent Sig as much prana as I could before losing consciousness? The connection you¡¯re thinking about does exist, between me and any entities I form a link with. That could have let him break out of his room on his own and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wait, you have more?¡±

    ¡°¡­ They don¡¯t really compare to Sig here, but yes. I¡¯ve gathered a fair amount between elementals, eidolons, and some others.¡±

    Edmond was not sure how to take her words. On one hand, their own combat strength was even higher than he expected. He had no idea of what entities Tatyana was linked to, much less their abilities, but she had all but confirmed they could affect the current conflict.

    On the other hand, why was his own focus so important?

    ¡°Back on topic, you still think all this arsenal of yours is not enough? In all honesty, I wouldn¡¯t blame someone doubting if I¡¯m even necessary.¡± The thought alone did nothing but pressure Edmond even more, but there was no use in overstating his strength.

    ¡°Well, for one, we¡¯re going up against a whole bunch of Thorns, not just Hellbound and Miasma. Any extra manpower is good to have, but the main problem is our injuries. We¡¯d mostly recovered from last week¡¯s scuffle, but Wildcard really did a number on us. Hellbound and Miasma should be in much better shape now.¡± Tatyana explained rather matter-of-factly.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t your¡­ er, ¡®familiars¡¯ make up for that?¡±

    Edmond tried his best to choose his words carefully while conveying his question properly, but the discomfort shown by Tatyana seemed completely detached to the accidental rudeness he worried about.

    ¡°Back when I rescued you, I already used my Crowned One powers.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Ah¡­¡±

    ¡°Of course, I didn¡¯t show everything. Sig wasn¡¯t there, for one, so we still have an edge to make use of. But leaving aside Miasma and that prana-eating deal of his, Hellbound¡­ He¡¯s not the sort that you go head-on against. I still don¡¯t know for sure what he¡¯s about, but I¡¯m sure there¡¯s something that makes him ramp up. Hard. If I can¡¯t put him down before he reaches a certain point, then¡­ I¡¯ll¡­¡±

    A brusque movement not only threw Tatyana off her words, but also made Edmond tighten his grip on her and his ¡®seat¡¯ like a frightened child. Stability returned soon after, the only hint to the source of the ¡®turbulence¡¯ being¡­ Sig¡¯s upraised head letting out a snort like a horse¡¯s, a whale¡¯s and even a crocodile¡¯s all at the same time, before it returned to its previous, level position.

    ¡°Sig¡­¡± Tatyana muttered, a strange emotion in her voice.

    It was a display even Edmond could understand and smile at.

    So smart.

    He clung forward, reaching his hand out for Tatyana¡¯s.

    ¡°You¡¯ll win for sure. It¡¯s clearly not just me who knows that.¡±

    Her blinking was even amusing, eye wide open as if at a loss. She sighed, lips curled up at the end in slight awkwardness.

    ¡°Talk about pressure¡­ But you¡¯re right.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s face heated up somewhat, his smile even bigger. It was that confidence, that arrogance even, that made Tatyana shine.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost at the facility. Scouting won¡¯t be a problem from the air, but after that, I think we¡¯ll split up. I¡¯ll face Hellbound, so¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep the way clear for you. Yes.¡±

    ¡°Try. I know how you get about your own well-being, so let¡¯s say that things will go even worse for me if you go down. Understand?¡±

    Edmond let out a snort at her rather condescending words, but nodded nonetheless.

    They were flying by the facility¡¯s grounds within a few more seconds, and what they saw¡­ was not too recognizable.

    The pavement was cracked and peeled in many spots, to an extent that was visible even from their vantage point. Trees had been torn from their bases, several serving as fuel for growing fires. Several of the buildings were ravaged, glass smashed and melted alike, with some stories even tilted due to damaged support.

    However, what was most frightening of all was the conspicuous lack of people, for one side or the other. Signs of the conflict that had yet to end were obvious wherever one looked, with even the surrounding prana being abnormally agitated and dense, but neither knights or Thorns were visible, fighting or escaping.

    And despite that, Edmond¡¯s attention was monopolized by something else.

    ¡°This is terrible¡­ They¡¯re probably in one or more of the buildings now. If the assault has gone on as long as it seems, they probably already reached the armory. I can go there on my own and drop you off here for recon and¡ª¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Edmond replied as dryly as a voice could be.

    Tatyana turned back to him, jerking her head so fast and brusquely it looked dangerous.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t waste time here, either of us.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s voice was panicked, trembling. His hands and legs alike were even trying to push Sig toward another direction, causing the dragon himself to also turn with a snarl and gaze that were more annoyance and anger than confusion.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t up for discussion! After all you said, you¡¯re telling me you don¡¯t trust me to hold my own!? Splitting up and tackling each place will let us help more people!¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t matter when there¡¯s a rift about to open!¡±

    Tatyana did not respond, her eyes wide open and lips awkwardly trying to form something. Edmond did not wait for any words to come out, and even ignored the aggression displayed by Sig, instead pointing ahead and to the right with a shaking arm. A direction that would lead to the outdoor training fields within several hundred meters.

    He saw Tatyana still trying to argue for a bit more, but she ultimately turned to look where he pointed, toward a place where the prana and even air meshed and violently warped in an aberrant way, still so visible despite the day¡¯s lack of color.

    Tatyana kicked Sig lightly of her own, making him slow down his flight as she turned to Edmond once more.

    ¡°Are you positive? I mean, how would you even know¡­?¡±

    She closed her eyes, seemingly regretting her own question. After all, it was not rare for young people who had experienced one such event to become cadets. In fact, it tragically was one of their most common sources of motivation.

    ¡°¡­ Are you sure? There¡¯s so many people here. Are you going to make them wait even more?¡±

    Edmond certainly did not need the reminder. Another knife to drive in the implications of his decision, when several others had yet to disappear since they set off.

    He tried his very best to withstand the urge, but ended up looking back at the damaged facility. Where the conflict was obvious, people who had done nothing to suffer this sort of attack and did not so much as know it was coming, unsafe. Meanwhile, those who had no problem with putting innocents through the worst were about to get even more time to do so.

    Even so, no matter how painful, cruel and hateful, Edmond knew the choice he had to make.

    If a rift to Nox, the landscape of nightmare that had warranted the founding of the Knight Corps itself, managed to open here and now, the assault on the armory could very well be the lesser threat. Far lesser.

    ¡°¡­ A rift¡­ is not something I can ever ignore, and still¡­ I know how hypocritical this is, to say this, but¡­ Look, Tatyana I¡­¡±

    Edmond cried, his voice cut off by a shameful gasp. Powerless, pathetic, almost unable to draw a breath. What kind of nonsense was this?

    His teeth chattered, right hand clenched to his head in a desperate, futile attempt to at least slow down its trembling.

    Another hand held it. Warm, strong, though definitely not fearless. But still¡­

    ¡°I¡¯ll help you, Edmond. I promise.¡±

    ¡­ Its owner would take action regardless of how afraid either of them were.

    ¡°Let¡¯s end this, together. We¡¯ll stop that rift and help everyone else. Got it?¡±

    Tatyana turned forward, her brilliant brown hair swaying in the wind. Black-scaled Sig unleashed a bellow like nothing ever before and soared toward the twisted prana. Throughout all that, Edmond¡¯s hand was not dropped for an instant.

    He could not find any more words. Somehow, he found it harder to speak than in the midst of tears, for a completely different reason.

    He had not stopped trembling at all, and the traces of warm tears tenaciously clung to his face despite the strong breeze. But that was all unimportant now.

    He checked the bag he had received from Claude. A bag that when unzipped, showed few contents that were very familiar.

    Edmond took hold of the shortsword, a small card key doing away with its sheath, and then the small pouch of rubber-like marbles.

    Once he did, he knew he could also try, he could also act, no matter the obstacle.

 II-6: Lancehead

    Kloel unleashed three spells at once. Crackling bolts of indigo mesh, converging roughly toward the same direction.

    There was no need for all to hit the exact same spot, as if just one managed to hit, the opponent would be left wide open to another attack, even if it was formed from scratch. Two of the shots were only meant to cut off the enemy''s escape routes, ensuring that one necessary hit.

    Phantom made no futile attempt to dodge, allowing the compressed prana to travel unimpeded. Cracks spread across the building¡¯s wall and floor and more dust was formed, joining the cloud that had already been lifted by the impact.

    From an outsider¡¯s perspective, it probably looked like Kloel had ended the battle in one blow, but it was she who had to leap aside in a forceful escape.

    Nothing was seen, or even heard. And yet once she looked at the spot she previously stood at, there was Phantom with his hand down, having just completed a swing from his unique hook weapon.

    Completed, but not finished. After all, he smoothly followed into a spinning motion, allowing the built up momentum to carry the hook fast and far, directed by the connected wire that slid through his fingers.

    Kloel felt an instant chill from the sight and desperately resumed her retreat, not daring to even attempt a counterattack. She saw the wire swaying and bending freely on the other end of the room, the attached hook reaching for her with the persistence of a hornet.

    Under normal circumstances, any sort of ¡®threaded¡¯ weapon was at a heavy disadvantage in cramped quarters. Even with the room¡¯s size and most of the ceiling torn away, the chances of it bouncing off of some surface added another layer of crippling complexity to an already unwieldy weapon.

    But of course, this was of no concern to Phantom. As whenever his hook was about to hit a wall or such, it would smoothly disappear, only to appear with the same momentum in front of another surface, ready to strike at his enemy.

    A weakness turned into a strength, as while their surrounding surfaces meant nothing to Phantom, Kloel¡¯s movements were still limited by them. She stepped back frantically, just barely avoiding a direct hit by tracking Phantom¡¯s eyes and hand as she approached the nearest exit: the torn ceiling.

    She quickly regretted going for such a telegraphed move. Naturally, Phantom had checked the ways out of the room with his swings, which she was made painfully aware of by a strong pull on her calf.

    She saw the escape route becoming smaller in her vision for a moment, and then everything became a blur as she hit the hard floor, face-up. The back of her head radiated hot pain and she felt consciousness almost escape her; it might have if not for the excruciating pull at her leg continuing even then.

    Something. Anything! If he gets me any closer, I¡¯m dead!

    Almost using panic itself as a call to action, Kloel felt the stream within her ignite. Like a crackling thunderstorm, like a raging waterfall. The prana inside her seemed to sizzle and steam until it finally burst, not in one go but rather as what sounded like a rapid series of popping sounds.

    ¡°Oh shit.¡±

    Phantom¡¯s voice was much less nervous than she hoped, but at least the pulling sensation had stopped. Not just that, but she also could not feel the pressure of the hook inside her.

    Not good!

    Kloel forced herself back up, first her upper body while bringing her left hand to her calf. The bleeding was profuse enough to alarm her, instantly warming up her fingers with the heavy red fluid. Eyes back on Phantom, she saw he had brought the hook back to his hand, looking over it with significant attention.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect that; you could¡¯ve damaged it. Elf perks, eh?¡±

    She glared in response, bringing a hand wreathed in prana to her wound. The indigo-colored particles came together and solidified in a tight, flat structure, enough to work as an impromptu bandage.

    Phantom¡¯s words were not frivolous. Indeed, sorcery from an elf was not quite the same as that from a human. Smoother, many times reflexive in its use. Some would say it was more ¡®primal¡¯, and not without reason; no matter how similar they were to humans in several other regards, or how much time they had lived alongside each other, elves were still magical creatures. Prana was as inherent and vital to them as their own blood, with all the implications such a trait would carry.

    And Kloel certainly did not care for such a man talking about it in such a way, no matter the unconventional nature of her earlier display.

    Frankly, it disgusted her.

    She swung an arm to the side, causing a rippling dark blob to instantly extend forward. This was not hyperbole, with the heavy prana appearing smoothly and quickly as if a veritable afterimage of her movement.

    Kloel was a trained knight cadet, of course, and she was a competent sorcerer regardless of her nature. But in proper terms, such an attack was not ¡®spellcasting¡¯, the system of phenomenon-construction and use that, strictly speaking, she lacked the slightest need for.

    For magical creatures like elves, the prerequisite of theory and technique did not exist if they wished to simply use prana. The substance was but a mere part of their bodies, one of many like a limb or an organ. If all she wanted was to attack or put pressure on a wound, such waves of magic were as easy to manifest and command as her arm was to swing.

    It was like pitting proper words against a yell. If other conditions were equal, there was no way for a sorcerer to match the speed of her assault.

    And yet¡­

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    ¡­ she clearly saw Phantom vanish from sight before the wave of destruction could reach him.

    How!?

    To say she was confused was an understatement on its own class. Her mind was chaos, instinctively trying to come up with any explanation before an unbearable discomfort overcame her.

    She jumped once more. Not to escape through the ceiling that was again somewhat far, but due to it being the first way she thought of to avoid any of her vitals from being hit. The move proved to be good, as she saw Phantom below her with his brandished hook right after.

    Not good enough, however, as she once more saw him following his missed attack into something else with those uniquely practiced motions. Phantom was tall, with long legs that did not need much of a jump to reach her in midair, where dodging was all the more difficult.

    Kloel gritted her teeth, generating a prana burst behind her at roughly the same time she felt pain explode at her flank.

    ¡°Fuck! How¡¯s that so quick!?¡±

    Before, she might have found some relief in Phantom¡¯s tone finally taking on some panic. But she was too busy flying through the air at the moment.

    The ceiling, the concrete floor, the gaps torn by Sig; they all darted past her sight in a split second before she hit the opposite wall, then fell half on her side with a concerning noise.

    The position was still better than with her previous fall, so with her best efforts she managed to stand back up much quicker than before. The pain, however, was completely different this time. Kloel reflexively turned to see, and she quickly wished she had hesitated more before doing so.

    Her right flank¡­ She could only assume the front of Phantom¡¯s boot had been buried there. The depth of the wound may have been just past one centimeter, its width superior to her hand¡¯s, with some residual flaps of skin hanging past the newly made gap in her jacket and blouse.

    If the situation was just a tad less stressful, she might have thrown up. Not only from the wound itself, but from the reminder of what this criminal could do on even a slight touch.

    A power that could not be defended against, or even seen. And one that worked as fast as her magic.

    Runes? A curse, perhaps? Or was it because of some of the stolen equipment? So many possible sources, and all warranting different countermeasures. The task of figuring out which one was at play felt daunting in itself, but Kloel thought she might fall to hopelessness if she did not at least distract herself with the illusion of discovery.

    The smoke began to clear as she tightened another prana ¡®bandage¡¯, and felt an instinctive, if still pitiful relief at the sight of a somewhat disheveled Phantom. There were a few rips on his jeans at one leg, the lower part¡¯s fabric charred across. It was not much, but her desperate maneuver did have an effect.

    But while her first reaction had been pleasant, common sense quickly caught up and caused her heart to sink right after.

    There was no real surprise to be felt. She knew Phantom had to ¡®solidify¡¯ whenever he wished to inflict damage, ¡®displacing¡¯ whatever he had phased through. That was certainly a period of vulnerability, but it also meant her only chance to fight back was after he thought to have landed an attack. And more often than not, he would have hit the mark if that was the case at all.

    Exchanging attack for attack, it was obvious she, who had no way to resist his attacks, would go down first.

    ¡°You know what? There¡¯s a much better way to go about this.¡±

    Phantom spoke up with an oddly serious voice. Without thinking, she found herself looking up with a gaze he probably took for curiosity.

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe in things like destiny, but I do think many opportunities are limited. You¡¯ve avoided over three kill shots now, and somehow tagged me. If we keep going, you¡¯ll be dead in a couple of minutes, but probably get me good by then. An eye? This leg? Either way, it¡¯s not an outcome either of us want.¡±

    ¡°¡­ What are you even getting at?¡±

    The Unmasked smiled with somber eyes, good looks akin to a sports¡¯ star wasted in a greedy, gross expression.

    ¡°Shadow Spot.¡±

    Kloel could have shot another full force blast at him right then, had she not been reminded of how futile it was several times now. The fact her new expression was found amusing enough for Phantom to chuckle only made her anger more unbearable.

    ¡°Beef with them? I guess it makes sense, no way they wouldn¡¯t have tried to nab one of theirs with this much grit. Still, for that same reason, I¡¯m sure if you bow your head and have the right script, they¡¯ll still take you. Would be great for me, us, and you get to keep that head over your shoulders.¡±

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Kloel could have sworn the entire world went monochrome at that moment. The pain at her flank, precarious balance from her injured leg, as well as her growing sense of dread felt like secondary concerns all of a sudden.

    ¡°¡­ You want me to be a mole? In the Shadow Spot?¡±

    ¡°What can I say? Competition¡¯s tough, and those fucks are annoying in their unique way. They can¡¯t manage territory too well with so few of them in Seyfelt, but every single one is strong as shit. Head on, just three or four of them could take out most of our guys, and even with the new gear things are dangerous. But with an insider? We could hit them hard and good, and for them even losing a few guys would be terrib¡ª¡±

    ¡°You better shut the fuck up now.¡±

    Phantom stopped immediately, as if all air had escaped him. His expression changed at the same time, showing genuine, quite stupid-looking surprise, confusion¡­ and disappointment.

    There was no regret, not even realization at his mistake. It made Kloel feel as if her skin was boiling, requiring her utmost willpower to speak in a more or less normal tone as she continued.

    ¡°Want to know what¡¯s up?¡± She brought a hand to her neck, so fast and brusque the magic circle on it seemed to shatter into pieces as it revealed the symbol she always hid. ¡°I¡¯ve already ran with the Shadow Spot. I fucking hate them, but you¡¯re just¡­¡±

    She stepped forward, hands forming fists so tight they hurt as much as any of her other wounds. Indigo prana swelled and condensed around her, slithering, and then thrashing about like an enraged viper.

    You¡¯re so fucking stupid, Tanya. No clue about your own limits, always having me clean up after you. I love even that about my best friend, made me think I could just bear it all. Still, this guy you left me to deal with¡­

    ¡°¡­ such a rotten sack of shit.¡±

    ¡­ makes me pissed at you!

    ¡°¡­!?¡±

    Phantom readied his hook right after, so fast he almost seemed to surprise himself.

    ¡°Whatever. Want to make another shitty choice? Be my guest; I don¡¯t know why I even try to be reasonable¡­¡±

    When he spoke up, his voice alone somehow enraged Kloel even further.

    ¡°You¡¯re such a clueless, insufferable bastard.¡± She replied as if by instinct. ¡°You really think we¡¯re that stupid? That you can just read and manipulate us like dolls, you fucking manchild? Let¡¯s see who really made the shitty choice here!¡±

    The viper lashed forth, as if compelled by her very voice. Naturally, Phantom allowed it to pass harmlessly through him, letting it tear right through the wall behind.

    Kloel leapt aside without hesitation, but she still felt a long gash opening on her upper arm. She extended both arms, and two dark tendrils attacked next, only for Phantom to show back up with no more damage on him. The next cut reached her collarbone area, spreading an uncomfortable dampness through her blouse.

    She was getting nowhere, with wounds and blood loss both piling up. Not risking further damage to either his weapon or own body, Phantom seemed content to simply slash her at a distance. A kill by a thousand cuts lacking any danger; slower, but so easy.

    Easy¡­ Yes. After all, even if Kloel managed to prevent a lethal blow, he was still reaching her with what appeared to be every swing.

    So why had he missed on two crucial occasions? Attacking from close range, when he could afford the least to miss, he still did. Even though she could not even see him then¡­

    ¡­ See?

    Wait, is that it!?

    A certain possibility streaked through Kloel¡¯s mind fast, to the point she almost felt it getting away.

    Hip. Shin. Forehead. Lower back. Nape.

    All those areas and more had been struck since they resumed their clash, so many she could not afford to bandage any more. Blood dripped into her clothes while the freezing air somehow seemed to burn each cut. Even so, the emotion that now overtook her was pure anticipation.

    Indigo particles of prana raged around her, responding to her renewed drive. She clicked her fingers, commanding the two streams of destruction to attack again. Phantom, of course, phased through the attack without any issue. But only one of them had aimed for him.

    The other aimed back, right past Kloel. Bursting through the wall behind her.

    She knew what happened last time. Forget a pull on her calf, if she attempted it again, Phantom would now put his utmost focus to reaching a vital.

    And yet¡­ It worked. Ignoring the spreading gravel that hit her all over, Kloel jumped through the gap she had opened, unimpeded.

    You can¡¯t see me, you twisted fuck!

    It made so much sense. His invisibility was but a side-effect of being intangible, with no eyes for any light to reach. It was the reason he failed to hit her those two times, the reason he could not afford to just keep crucial parts of his body, such as his head, permanently intangible¡­

    ¡­ Or was it? If he could not even see in that state, could he breathe? Was his physical body in some ¡®stasis¡¯ that made it unnecessary?

    Kloel¡¯s pondering stopped at she landed on the street. ¡®Crash-landed¡¯, more like. The deep wound on her calf did her no favors, and neither did the now very noticeable anemia. She lost her footing as soon as she found it, toppling over her left side and brought down to all fours.

    Damn it! Not now!

    She turned aside, looking back at the building as she tried to get back up. She did not see Phantom in her immediate sight, and that was enough to follow with a move that some might call drastic.

    Thick tendrils of indigo prana rampaged, five in number this time. Traveling as they grew to their full dimensions, they buried themselves into the building like worms in fruit. Without the need for a verbal or physical command, Kloel¡¯s will was enough to make them tear through the walls, steel beams, granite base. Any place where its structural foundations could lay.

    It only took a few seconds for the three-story concrete formation to begin an unfittingly rapid collapse.

    The thunderous noise, followed by a veritable storm of dust and spreading pieces of gravel, reached Kloel before she even got back on her feet. And within it, she finally caught a glimpse of a uniquely¡­ ¡®animated¡¯ silhouette. The glimpse became a clearer sight quickly, approaching with heavy, slower steps until it stood about six meters away from Kloel.

    Phantom was wounded, and not in a way she had to convince herself was significant. He was bleeding from right above his forehead, copiously enough that his attempts to wipe the red from his eye were almost pitiful. The leg she had not gotten to burn was also not in the best shape, with the knee area of his jeans shaved off along with quite a bit of skin. His left elbow was not too different, with something about the way its respective arm bent hinting at something gone wrong with the joint.

    Compared to Kloel¡¯s state, there was still quite a ways to go. But it was more than enough to get an unrestrained cackle from her, her hypothesis proven true once again.

    ¡°Goddamn psychopath¡­¡± The Unmasked snarled, true rage obvious in his voice for the very first time.

    ¡°Pfft! Is that supposed to be a compliment among you lot?¡± Kloel¡¯s response was nothing but venomous mockery.

    He did not speak again, his only response being another swing from the wired hook. The line extended well beyond the distance between them, drawing a smooth arc in the air with seemingly more speed and power than before.

    But this time, despite her injuries, Kloel managed to avoid it without so much as a nick. She could move freely now; right, left, backward and anything in-between. Now in an open space, Phantom¡¯s long-range swings were not nearly as dangerous.

    An overhead swipe. A feint from the right, followed by a curve from the left, aiming behind her. The hook phased through the pavement they stood on, aiming up. Phantom was relentless, and even managed to reach Kloel a few more times, but whether from stress or his own wounds, there was something slightly duller about his moves.

    Kloel did not hold back her own offense. Crackling blobs of dark indigo rose around her and shot forth, exploding all around Phantom who had begun to dodge conventionally as well.

    He was intent on not letting Kloel out of his sight, definitely aware of what she now knew. But with his less precise assault and a better playing field, she was learning even more than just that.

    One such time was now, when she heard the clinking sound of metal on pavement. For the first time, Phantom¡¯s hook had hit and bounced off the floor, rather than phasing through it.

    At the same moment he was forced to phase through Kloel¡¯s destructive prana.

    Is it just stamina issues? Or maybe he has to choose a ¡®target¡¯ to become intangible? A limited range ¡®barrier¡¯, perhaps?

    Kloel was panting, exhausted from her frantic run across the street and all the different things she had to keep in mind. Her throat was painfully dry, her calf tortured her and her vision throbbed with an intermittent blur. While changing the location of their battle had been a boon, there was no doubt she would still lose a contest of endurance.

    Even so, she was now more excited than ever. She grinned, doing her best to hold back another laugh as she visualized the next step with increasing clarity.

    Excitement alone was not enough to overcome physical limitations, however, and Kloel¡¯s next corner turn was a perfect example of that. Seeking additional cover, she only managed to run eight or so extra meters by the sidewalk to her left before she lost her footing, feeling a stinging rip on her knee right after.

    She gritted her teeth from the unexpected pain but took immediate action, twisting her body the best she could to at least fall on her side and look back at where she came from, toward the pursuing Phantom.

    He had only reached the storm drain right at the corner when she resumed her attack, launching a particularly dense blob of prana at him without hesitation.

    He somehow dodged it with a frantic leap to the side, but the lump of indigo mass spread in every direction like an ink-filled balloon. The spike-like tendrils came so close to him, but his phasing saved him from the surprise, two-stage attack well within time.

    Kloel narrowed her eyes, glaring at the Unmasked who safely materialized once more.

    ¡°Dirty. If I still wasn¡¯t taking you seriously, that could¡¯ve gotten me.¡±

    ¡°Save me the platitudes, asshole.¡±

    She probably did not have to say it, as he readied his next attack while speaking. The wired hook unfurled rapidly from his hand, fittingly approaching the downed Kloel from above. She needed to stand back up to move well, and was being deprived of even that possibility.

    So predictable!

    Without hesitation, Kloel extended both arms forward and sent forth another wave of prana; a burst to forcefully move her further back while doubling as another attack.

    She groaned from her rough slide across the pavement, even if Phantom¡¯s hook missed right before her, phasing through the floor instead. On his end, Phantom easily dodged back toward the sidewalk. He may have predicted something of the sort, but it was a far cry to expect such a frantic, rushed attempt to hit him.

    It was all over now. Phantom¡¯s hook was well on its way back up now, phasing through the street with all the velocity needed to get Kloel¡¯s heart, neck, head or anything else that would finally do her in. She could hardly move, and even if she mounted another desperate retreat, this time he would expect it and get her anyway, even if with the wire itself by extending more than usual.

    At last, he has me entirely cornered¡­

    ¡­ Kloel could not hold her smirk back. Pondering what he was probably thinking at the moment was beyond hilarious.

    Checkmate, you clueless fuck.

    Before any of such delusions of his could become a reality, dark prana gushed violently from the storm drain, right beside Phantom. The tendrils sent inside it during the earlier burst had converged, waited, then shot out as a heavy torrent the moment she willed it.

    Too fast, with no way to expect it, Phantom not only failed to dodge, but even lacked the time to turn the phasing effect from the underground hook over to his body.

    The blob of indigo moved faster than a bullet, and was large enough to engulf his whole body as it kept going through the entire width of the street. It crashed into the side of the nearby warehouse, then right through it, tearing a jagged hole over two meters in diameter.

    The crashing noise of shattering concrete continued to echo even after that, hinting at the next wall possibly receiving a similar amount of damage as the prana clump refused to stop.

    ¡°¡­ Shit¡­¡±

    Kloel waited a few seconds, just to be sure. She saw no signs of Phantom or his threaded weapon, but there was still some unease that continued to cling to her. It was not long, however, before even that started to vanish, slowly but surely.

    And with the disappearing concern, an overpowering sense of relief came in turn. Annoying, even dangerous, as it fueled her urge to just stay there, laying down¡­ Even drift off¡­

    It was difficult, but she was still just lucid enough to resist such temptation and force herself back up. It made her feel somewhat pathetic, struggling to rise even when using all four of her limbs. Still, she achieved it, despite finally feeling the true extent of her wounds after coming down from her activity ¡®high¡¯.

    She walked with slow, awkward steps akin to a baby deer¡¯s, steadily approaching the hole in the warehouse¡¯s wall. She looked inside, still wary.

    Much like on the street outside, some of the building¡¯s hard floor had been peeled off, cracked in the wake of her final attack. Boxes had been destroyed, storage stands torn down, and while it was definitely smaller, the opposite wall also had a rough hole pierced through it.

    And in the middle of it all was a person. Laying half on his side, half face up, bloodied and broken with his designer clothes torn, charred and otherwise ragged in too many places to count.

    Kloel thought she noticed a few shallow breaths, indicating he was holding on, but Phantom was certainly done fighting for the day.

    There was some disappointment to be felt. She wanted to laugh, had waited for this moment just to be able to finally let loose and cackle to her heart¡¯s content, but the ache everywhere on her body was too much. The sheer exhaustion was also unbearable, and it all only seemed to grow by the second.

    Still, she did not mind for that long. After all, something more important came over her mind soon after. Something she should do now, without delay.

    Grumbling from the pain, Kloel brought a hand to her hip; her back pocket, to be precise. One where her cellphone laid in wait, miraculously spared from the battle¡¯s effects¡­

    ¡­ It was not. Her lips went tight in a vague pout as she saw four connected cracks running across the screen, despite the protector and case. Cracks that actually had a bearing in the device¡¯s use, swipes and taps now rather inconsistent.

    But it was no big issue. What she wanted to do was still possible.

    Camera, into video recording function, aimed at her defeated opponent, with her hand next to the sight. She raised her thumb in an almost universal gesture, and spoke.

    ¡°Yo, I did my part. How¡¯s this for a good luck charm~? Now it¡¯s your turn!¡±

    Just a few seconds of recording, and some more to send it.

    The target contact: Tatyana Nesterova.

 II-7: The Knave

    Claude rushed down from the top of a small, three-story office building, readying a full-force slash over his shoulder. Aided by the pull of gravity and a boost from specialized platform spells under his feet, the speed and power of his attack was even greater than normal.

    Wildcard was slower than him even without their use, so even with her head-start, the pursuit had reached a point in which only their vertical positioning made the difference. There was no time for her to run more, at least not enough to get out of his sword¡¯s range.

    Or at least, that¡¯s how the situation looked at one moment, only to completely change by the next.

    There was no real move by the Unmasked. No gesture, no verbal command, and the surrounding prana did not behave strangely. She was continuing her escape just as before, but an abnormal phenomenon below Claude¡¯s step forced him to prioritize evasion, in the form of jumping off the concrete, over his chase.

    The prana on the building¡¯s wall went wild for an instant, then rapidly structured itself into something concrete. A blade, much like his own, but around three meters in length and covered in bolts akin to an electrical discharge.

    This time, Claude attacked the blade itself as an impromptu parry. Sparks from friction flew as his slash connected, but those around Wildcard¡¯s trap remained. Tinged with an unusual pink color, they instead streamed forward, flowing into his weapon.

    He let go immediately, allowing it to fall down on the street alongside Wildcard¡¯s spell. Claude frowned, however, once he became aware of the setup.

    Another trap sprung forth from the blades crashing on the floor; a pillar of blue flame like a waterfall in reverse, covering a width over two meters. He was already in midair, so running away was not an option.

    Fortunately, Claude had more options than just that available.

    He extended his hand and a sorcery circle flashed momentarily. There was no need for a different spell, so with only a few tweaks to barely delay it, another glass blade materialized. This time, even after reaching the previous one¡¯s size of ninety centimeters, it continued to extend past triple that length.

    The sword grew well beyond what would normally be considered usable, and then more. It hit the spot on the building Claude had just jumped from, and then grew more, burying its tip several centimeters within the concrete, but not any more. Claude turned the blade on purpose, having no use in piercing through the building.

    Instead, the maneuver had quickly pushed him farther away than his initial jump, with only part of the overlong blade caught in the azure conflagration. The intense heat reached the sword¡¯s handle almost instantly, threatening to burn Claude¡¯s hand from even that meager exposure. As for the section of the blade in direct contact with the fire, it would prove all the more useful for it.

    Having some leverage now, Claude placed his other hand on the sword¡¯s handle, gripping it tightly before ¡®throwing¡¯ himself in a backward flip. The glass-like material broke away as a result, leaving a jagged end that had just been touching the flame until recently.

    An end that Claude wielded as he was flung back, right above where Wildcard now stood. He caught a glimpse of panicked hazel eyes for a split second until they were covered by his slash.

    He barely missed, her run still fast enough to outdo his awkward jump by a small amount. His broken sword stopped just short of the floor, ready to be brought back up in a show of unconventional swordsmanship. Even if the first attack was dodged, she would be caught by the second one and¡ª

    Blinding light out the corner of his left eye instantly monopolized Claude¡¯s attention.

    His attempt at offense had to promptly take the place of defense; half parrying, half slicing the incoming threat without enough time to fully assess it. The plasma-like sphere was bent and partially split, deflected above and past Claude, but not before the superheated air left in its wake burned four of his right hand¡¯s fingers, one of them left insensate.

    Claude let out a slow exhale as he turned, looking for Wildcard. Even such a surprise attack would not buy her much time, but he still expected a bit of a harder time finding her.

    That spell¡­ It came from my blind spot, but how did I not even hear it?

    He pondered as he looked over his enemy, cross-armed and laying her back on a light post about ten meters away, on the same sidewalk as a closed convenience store. If she was so calm, there had to be more traps in between them.

    ¡°Shit, you¡¯re quick. More than the ponytail bitch, even. I thought I¡¯d at least take an arm there.¡± Wildcard said, with a hint of honesty amidst the ocean of condescension.

    It did nothing but irritate Claude, however slightly.

    ¡°I¡¯ve almost killed you twice now. You¡¯re really going to stop for a chat?¡± He replied, allowing his eyes to wander for whatever time he had been allowed.

    He took note of the places he could step on ahead of time, planning another approach, as well as an evasion route just in case.

    It was possible the searing shot from earlier was a fluke, due to him being overly focused on Wildcard herself, but what if it was not?

    If he got taken by surprise again, there were no guarantees he would retain the strength to prevail.

    ¡°Funny to hear that from you of all people.¡± Wildcard continued, not missing a beat despite Claude¡¯s threats. ¡°It¡¯d be one thing if you were just some knight scrub, but with the way you move, I¡¯d have expected you to ignore all this and simply go for my neck again.¡±

    Her words were somehow concerning. Claude did not reply, not even to ask for clarification, but he felt an instinctive understanding from her address.

    ¡°Quite far away from Blue Book territory, aren¡¯t you~?¡±

    He threw his sword not one second after Wildcard spoke, perfectly aimed at her face. But an emerald-green bolt, shot from the light post, cut it off three quarters into its path.

    ¡°Okay, see? That¡¯s more like it. So which one are you? Enforcer? Spy or tracker?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claude lied, in a way he himself immediately knew was below his par.

    The Blue Book Order. When talking about private sorcerer associations, their name was sure to come up when discussing the major ones, and not in a flattering manner. About as expected, when the organization saw Nox and its demons which had caused so much misery around the whole world as scientific wonders not just to be studied, but also embraced as hints of future potential.

    Claude recalled logs and files extending without any apparent end, almost lifeless children unable to act without a command, preserved specimens exposed to all kinds of treatment... Then, he drew a blank.

    A vivid, connected stream of memories, abruptly cut unlike any other time. On this topic, he was used to it.

    Wildcard looked at him with unusual attention, as if noticing something abnormal from his mere expression.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go on a limb and say enforcer. Your moves are definitely theirs, but just a fragment, or else I¡¯d already be dead. And that stupid face of yours¡­ Did the ¡®bleaching¡¯ go wrong or something~?¡±

    ¡°What does any of this matter to you?¡± Claude finally replied, with a stronger voice than he thought would come out. ¡°Whatever this whole thing is about, isn¡¯t it just the past? Both for you and me, it has nothing to do with the ¡®now¡¯. Think drawing on cheap sympathy will make me let you go?¡±

    ¡°Pfft. Is that what you think our situation¡¯s like? The way I see it, you¡¯re the only one who¡¯s gotten clipped here, and that should still be the least of your worries.¡±

    ¡­ Claude did not respond. He knew that, at least for the moment, Wildcard indeed held the upper hand.

    From her earlier response to his thrown weapon, he now knew she could activate her traps at will, rather than wait for the opponent to trigger them. Even worse, she was well outside his optimal range, requiring him to move and approach again. He was at risk of both her active attacks and whatever she had set up in their surroundings.

    And yet, it was not such a concern that made him remain silent. No clash with her traps, no matter how close a call it may have been, had come close to what her mention of the Blue Book Order did to him.

    He wanted to know more. And as problematic as Wildcard was, she did seem to want to share more.

    ¡°I¡¯m also a Blue Book product. Even if not really the same as you, I know what it¡¯s like to get away from them. There aren¡¯t many people who have managed it, but one thing¡¯s for sure, no matter who I hear about¡­ They always catch back up, sooner or later.¡±

    Her anger was obvious, palpable almost as if it tinged the air, and incomparable to even her words about Tatyana. But the look she sent his way was somehow worse, conveying a cold interest instead.

    ¡°I think you¡¯d make for a perfect diversion, however. A former enforcer turning right on them? A scandal like that should give me a great chance to escape their watch again, let alone considering the damage you could do.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Is this really your angle? A partnership against Blue Book?¡±

    Claude¡¯s question seemed to surprise Wildcard, her hazel eyes widening, then blinking before she let out a chuckle.

    ¡°Oh no, not at all. I¡¯m telling you to be my meat shield, that¡¯s it. Best case scenario, you¡¯ll die fighting them, nice and easy. If you don¡¯t want that, I can always just use you as a bargaining chip after beating you down; a token of peace for Blue Book to do as they please with, so long as they lay off me for some more time. I don¡¯t think you¡¯d disagree that this would be way worse for you than just getting killed.¡±

    An icy smirk, a voice like a blizzard. The Unmasked¡¯s look made it more than clear she would do anything to keep one step ahead of the Blue Book Order.

    Claude met that powerful gaze without faltering, unable to blame her at all for such priorities. Her arrogance was nothing less than infuriating, but it was also not unfounded by any means. Their exchange was enough to let him know she was as capable of killing him as he was of doing the same. Breaking away from a fight in which one small mistake could spell one¡¯s doom was nothing if not enticing.

    And as averse as he was to think on the matter, despite the hazy nature of his memories¡­ He knew very well that falling back into Blue Book¡¯s clutches was the worst fate he could imagine for himself. Despite guaranteeing his demise no matter what, Wildcard had somehow made an interesting offer, the way only someone who personally knew the Order could.

    He could have thought things over for an entire day, but the correct answer would likely remain just as obvious.

    ¡°¡­ You¡¯re kind of late.¡±

    ¡°Ah?¡±

    Wildcard¡¯s eyes went wide, her surprise obvious. Understandable, as Claude¡¯s specific choice of words did not fit either end of her offer. He continued without concern.

    ¡°I¡¯ll stand against Blue Book when the time comes, with someone who¡¯ll help me win against them. When I have him, why should I do anything for someone as bad as the Order itself?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Mind your words, you fucking midget.¡±

    Wildcard¡¯s tone suddenly became something entirely different. Her voice itself was the same, but the inflection of it was such that Claude himself, for a moment, struggled with the thought he may have made a mistake. Still, it was but a mere moment.

    ¡°Quit the delusion. You manipulate people with fear, hurt people who don¡¯t deserve it, spread grief as far as it benefits you. You can justify things and say you need to fight poison with poison, but it¡¯s bullshit to think you¡¯re that different.¡±

    After all, his own rage was probably on par. The fact someone of Wildcard¡¯s talents had just given up, resigned to simply buying time on the run from Blue Book, not even planning to ever fight back¡­ It all revolted him to his core.

    The sheer cowardice of the act, the memories she had dug up without a care, just thinking of what the Thorns were attempting today, let alone during the whole lifespan of the gang. The repulsive mesh of thoughts almost made him forget why he had even chased her in the first place.

    Not that it was an issue. After all, the fact someone affected by Blue Book¡¯s atrocities had fallen so low only strengthened the conviction already present within him; to bring Blue Book down, and to do away with a pathetic criminal whose eyes now seemed about to burn right through him.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Wildcard¡¯s smile had now disappeared, with the electric blue prana sparking around her offering more insight into her emotions instead.

    ¡°¡­ One of a kind indeed. Worse than the bitch from before, by far. You¡­ I¡¯m done.¡±

    Her murderous words were the only warning for the next attack.

    A lance of dense, luminous crystal. Giant blobs of blazing magma. White gas with some sort of corrosive effect, even on the nearby concrete.

    On the lookout this time, both from reading Wildcard¡¯s aggression and due to the previous close call, Claude saw each of them coming this time. But once more, and even more obviously now that they were in sight, he noticed the lack of sound and air shaking that would be expected from such intense spells.

    So it wasn¡¯t a mistake last time.

    Claude materialized a new sword, but knew he would not be able to block all three attacks. Stepping to the right, he came closest to the crystal projectile, an apparent solid that could be more readily parried.

    His arms trembled from the impact, even when relying on an unusual two-handed grip, but the crystal spear was deflected just enough to allow his retreat to continue. He could not approach Wildcard carelessly, but knew of two other safe spots where traps had already been triggered.

    Claude leapt as soon as his prana platforms were formed, avoiding the heavy magma and gas covering the place he previously stood at. Landing at the spot where the blue flame from before had gushed from, he turned to check on Wildcard¡¯s own possible retreat¡ª

    And couldn¡¯t even catch a glimpse of her.

    A sweltering explosion did away with any such attempts as soon as he stepped on the place that should have been safe, blowing gravel and what felt like serrated nails into him. Claude quickly brought his free arm before his face to at least avoid being blinded, and would have jumped promptly to avoid more damage, but the glimmer of light he managed to see through the dust threw any such plans out the window.

    Another one¡¯s coming!

    Claude frantically made a half turn, stretching his sword arm in the direction of that barely perceptible glow. He violently pierced the concrete with the glass-like blade and poured prana within it to an excruciating degree, forcing his weapon to grow more and more, as large and dense as possible¡­

    ¡­ Until the impact finally came.

    Wind and darkness blew around him like a concentrated storm, with even more shards ripping through his body. Cuts, burns, sheer concussive force that almost knocked him right on his back. For a second, Claude felt like the top left of his body was no longer there.

    His hearing was numb, ringing at both sides even if much worse on his left ear. Despite that, he could hear Wildcard¡¯s laughter from the start, and increasingly more as his surroundings gradually became clearer.

    ¡°How¡¯s that, you fucking roach!? Oooohh, now that¡¯s an arm I like to look at! Should I bet on the number of splits~?¡±

    She stood there just like before, mocking him in total conceit. The kind that would earn more than one person a bullet to the temple. But Claude did not attack, or so much as reply to her. He gave his arm a passing glance, and that was enough.

    To begin with, a fair amount of his sleeve had been ripped by the nails from before, but now much of it was just gone, burnt away. Most of the visible skin had darkened to a reddish color, growing blisters even within his worsened cuts. But perhaps worst of all was the fact he could barely move his limping arm, any attempt being far from what he wanted and accompanied by a very characteristic and intense pain.

    He had expected an outcome of that sort, and had taken a stance that would only subject one end of his body to such injuries if the incoming attack was strong enough, but that did not change the fact this was worrying. Extremely so.

    The same ends of his forehead and cheek ached considerably as well, and he almost thought his left eye might have gone the same way his arm did. Still, the annoyingly slow, but constant pace at which normal vision returned to it proved to be some sort of saving grace. For the time being.

    And it was not the only one.

    A new spell trap set without me even noticing, the abnormal lack of sound in her attacks; they¡¯re connected. She has some special power to mess with perception, to ¡®hide¡¯ her prana in a strange way that makes me confuse it for the normal environment.

    He had gained information about Wildcard¡¯s ability. Very crucial information at that.

    He instinctively frowned upon acknowledging he was still far from a countermeasure, but something to start off of was undeniably valuable.

    Wildcard had stopped laughing since a few seconds ago, but it was only now that her delighted expression changed. She glared like one might at pests that refused to go away; arrogant, but knowing it was no time for carelessness.

    ¡°That¡¯s an obvious ¡®planning face¡¯ if I¡¯ve ever seen one. You¡¯ve got no place to go, can¡¯t even block with two hands, and you still think you have a chance? ¡­ Alright then. I¡¯ll show you just how fucked you really are.¡±

    The electric prana around her condensed into a smoother flow, then began to recede as it was brought back under control.

    Claude materialized yet another blade as quickly as he could, preparing himself for whatever spell would come next. Parrying was much more difficult now, with only one arm available. But evasion was no more enticing, with the entire surroundings potentially plagued by spell traps like landmines. Did an actual countermeasure even exist?

    Still, Wildcard did not attack just yet.

    ¡°What¡­?¡± Rather, she did something strange enough that Claude let out a voice without thinking.

    He did not get to see her eyes again, with only her smirk remaining for half a second more. From the crown of her head and the bottom of her feet, Wildcard¡¯s body began to disappear. As if a digital drawing was being erased.

    Within maybe one full second, his offensive options became as crippled as his defensive ones. Now, he lacked even a target to attack. All he could see now were the many spells heading his way, numbering seven, and each one more than lethal enough.

    Needless to say, there was no way he could afford to parry something like that. One-handed, he would struggle with only one, and the six others would ravage him into nothing.

    ¡­ But I¡¯ve reacted to her traps. Even when stepping on them, they¡¯re fast to activate but not instant. At least for a few minutes, I might be able to outrun them¡­?

    The brief possibility running through his mind allowed Claude to finally make a decision. He could die by taking the gamble, but would that be any different from trying to face the attacks head-on?

    Evasion it will be!

    Claude rushed off without a second thought, feeling searing heat, crippling cold, violent gusts and gravel almost catching up behind him after the impact.

    He formed a new boosting platform under every hurried stride, dashing at his very top speed with minimal regard for where he went. So long as he could avoid obstacles and the devastating spells prepared all across the area, he could not ask for more.

    The former was no problem, and many times the ¡®obstacles¡¯ in question proved to be an advantage, allowing him to jump and move in different ways to survive the onslaught from not only the traps he triggered, but also those Wildcard continued to direct his way. It was the latter issue that was much easier said than done.

    He was certainly fast enough to avoid a direct hit so long as he kept running, but the unpredictable effects held within the traps still piled up damage on every occasional graze and slightest error in his footing. And even though Wildcard was no match for his speed, she continued to do an excellent job in reading his movements, with the traps she actively sent out precisely targeting the openings and blind spots created by those he ran over. All the while Claude lacked not only a countermeasure, but a target of his own.

    Still, it was that drastic move from her that gave him the most information yet.

    That wasn¡¯t teleportation, or even what Phantom can do. The prana around her acted just like that from her silent attacks, so she must have merely ¡®hidden¡¯ herself.

    It was obvious enough to make her own feeling of invincibility all the more apparent. But if that was the case, then why had she not turned her attacks invisible as well? Maybe the size difference had something to do with it? Or the amount of movement? ¡­ No. Not all her attacks had been larger than her, and she had also hidden the prana reforming her traps in the same way¡­

    ¡­ Or did she? Raw prana was not strictly visible to begin with, so maybe¡ª

    Another attack suddenly came too close, snapping Claude out of his thoughts. A black chain covered in crimson flame whipped around, forcing him to fall back from the building wall he had been climbing. It kept going through the structure, tearing through its foundations a few meters below the roof. Claude only saw part of the attack hitting the same section from the other side, and noticed he had been forced into a terrible mistake.

    The building top cracked and broke away, pushed out of its intended place and causing its fragments to rain down upon him. They were nowhere near as threatening as Wildcard¡¯s traps, but they dangerously restricted his movement and field of vision.

    He ran down the wall, batting aside some of the debris building with his sword, while trying to dodge the rest. Only one needed to reach him, however, and that it did. His broken arm was struck and he was briefly stunned, allowing a split portion of the chain¡¯s flames to singe his lower back.

    ¡°¡ª!¡±

    Claude struggled to not scream. Another hit, and another way in which his movements were compromised. Even before it, his stamina was beginning to give out, and the pain from forcing his arm to endure such high speed movements only made things worse.

    He could maybe last a minute more. After that, another mistake would be inevitable, and one more mistake meant¡­

    ¡­ No. He would not let that happen. Not now, when he finally figured out a plan of attack. One that would only take him a little over thirty seconds.

    More attacks came in the meantime, dodged by increasingly precarious breadth each time. At this point, one out of each five managed to graze him, but Claude still found the time to make another sword, while increasing the size of the one already at hand.

    He leapt back to the street, kicking the freshly made blade and throwing the one in his hand at the same time. The reflecting swords clashed and ricocheted in midair, landing far from each other at spots where traps had already been triggered.

    Naturally, the new traps in their place burst out as they pierced the pavement, causing smoke, dust and gravel to rise.

    Claude heard Wildcard¡¯s laughter, echoing with a strange effect that made it impossible to tell where it came from, just as rattling no matter where he ran. But this time, the annoyance he felt only made his anticipation grow further.

    Seeing his two blades still sticking from their landing spots once the dust cleared up, hardly damaged, made a brutal smirk appear on his face.

    It¡¯s only reasonable. Traps made in the moment have nowhere near the punch of those she placed ahead of time!

    It was all the confirmation he needed to kick production into high gear. Many more swords were made, then thrown, kicked or otherwise hit away in a similar manner. Some were used to throw off Wildcard¡¯s attacks and others were simply swallowed up by the powerful spells, but the majority ended up piercing the street, sidewalks, building walls and much more. All places where traps had previously been, with the new spells set to detonate failing to dislodge or damage the blades much.

    Well over a dozen of the large swords now jutted out of all kinds of surfaces, as if Claude¡¯s own claimed territory. Two more spells had grazed him in the meantime, ripping at his hip and burning his nape, but they were not enough to limit his top speed yet.

    Claude prepared one more sword, but this one he did not throw. Instead, he followed his most recent dodge with a sudden turn, sprinting with his full might toward the forest of swords he had constructed.

    Readying his right arm for a thrust, only one place remained in full detail amidst the high-speed blurs at the sides of his vision. A certain light post now practically framed by his blades.

    The same light post that Wildcard had been resting at when she disappeared.

    Claude¡¯s eyes went wide in concentration that was almost inhuman, and he thrust his sword forward with all his strength. It pierced the light post with utmost ease, almost cleaving it in half right there. But the target of Claude¡¯s focus was further down, having dodged his attack by such a small breadth that horror was still fresh on her face.

    Unfortunately for Wildcard, Claude was ready to follow up. Not wasting a single bit of his charge¡¯s momentum, he raised his leg toward the vulnerable enemy. A knee carrying with it the speed and power of his max speed sprint hit her torso cleanly, no doubt cracking more than one rib.

    Wildcard was smashed into the light post with enough strength to make it tremble, but Claude continued his assault even then. Spinning with the same movement from his knee strike, he brought out an outstretched leg that promptly dug into the criminal¡¯s chest.

    Compounding onto the earlier hit and the even earlier stab from his sword, the light post finally gave out and broke, its upper three fourths falling to the side as Wildcard was knocked further away, into the wall of the convenience store.

    ¡°G-Ghh¡­! Y-You¡ª¡±

    Wildcard groaned dizzily, trying her utmost to hold back bile, blood and anything else that may be coming up her throat. Claude ignored her reactions, and merely threw his sword at her, then two newly made ones which he kicked in quick succession.

    Right shoulder, left forearm and right foot were pierced and nailed to the wall and floor respectively, making Wildcard scream immediately.

    Claude formed a final sword as he approached and pressed it right below her chin as he panted, aching and exhausted.

    ¡°Now it¡¯s done.¡±

    Wildcard¡¯s eyes, briefly shut from the pain, opened almost immediately. In other circumstances, the speed at which she recovered her presence of mind could have been praiseworthy, even if all it allowed for her now was panic.

    ¡°Y-You just¡­! How!? So many¡­ You saved up illusion spells until now!?¡±

    ¡°No way I can do something like that. You really thought my blades look like that just for show?¡±

    Claude scoffed. No doubt she was referring to his trick with the sword marks.

    Had she thought them to be footholds? Attempts to hit her at random? Either way, she clearly had not expected him to play with reflection instead. With the many swords mirroring his approaching image from various angles, it was natural to hesitate and doubt the direction he was coming from.

    With a simple direct approach or throwing swords at her, she would have surely dodged with much more space to spare, possibly enabling an escape to recover her range, with the added knowledge that he could find her. A checkmate in the whole opposite direction¡­

    ¡­ No, just a check. He still would have found another way to get her. Probably.

    Wildcard¡¯s tenacity seemed similarly untouched, however. Even with a blade to her neck, she glared at Claude with the same intensity as before. Nothing changed even as he pressed it further, enough to draw a trail of blood.

    ¡°How¡¯d you even know I was here!?¡±

    ¡°Your power¡¯s not nearly as subtle as you think it is. You made yourself invisible, but none of your attacks were affected beyond lesser effects like loss of sound or hiding them from prana sensing. The prana for your traps is a different thing as it¡¯s naturally invisible, but anything else becomes harder to hide the more it moves. Maybe you have to manually keep the particles stuck to whatever you¡¯re hiding? And invisibility takes many more?¡±

    Claude asked, somewhat rhetorically. Wildcard¡¯s lack of response was still disappointing, however.

    ¡°Whatever. This all meant you couldn¡¯t afford to move much, with a single mistake risking me figuring the whole thing out. I figured there wasn¡¯t any other place you could be at.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Then just kill me. What are you even waiting for?¡±

    She did not seem to be talking disingenuously. Her last attacks had impacted and missed Claude right before he approached enough for Wildcard to be in the blast zone, and he could not notice any others being set off afterward.

    Surely she was still looking for any opening to turn the tables or make her escape, but for the moment, Wildcard had accepted her defeat. He doubted she was goading him, and fear of death was still obvious from her gaze. Her question instead seemed out of a rather genuine curiosity, confusion at solid expectations being betrayed.

    ¡­ He felt conflicted.

    ¡°There¡¯s no point in killing you when you can¡¯t fight back anymore. I can simply wait here until the police arrive, ready to take you in. Besides, what you said earlier¡­ is not worthless. More targets for Blue Book to distract themselves with is always good.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Pfft. So that¡¯s it?¡±

    Claude was the one to glare this time, instinctively. Wildcard chuckled, smirked and narrowed her eyes mockingly. It somehow did not feel like a bluff, despite her position.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re just a little bitch, afraid of how this guy who you say will toootally help you out would react to you murdering me just like that. So, who is it? Mister Mask, probably~?¡±

    ¡°Keep being an annoying piece of shit if you want away with your throat that badly.¡±

    Claude uttered with a low voice as his blade pressed even harder to Wildcard¡¯s neck, his vision appearing to blur, and not due to his exhaustion.

    But Wildcard¡¯s smirk did not recede in the slightest, her voice as arrogant as it had ever been.

    ¡°Does he even know how many you¡¯ve actually killed? Oh, what am I asking~? If you were bleached, even you can¡¯t know for sure! Still¡­ A boy scout like that, all chummy with a former Blue Book enforcer? Just thinking of when he figures out what he¡¯s gotten into, the kind of person he¡¯s supporting... How exciting~.¡±

    Claude did not respond anymore. He also did not finish Wildcard off, allowing her to mock as much as she wished. The wish to finally end that was as enticing as it was downright revolting.

    To be expected, though no less frustrating for it, his thoughts turned to Edmond, his¡­ ¡®best friend¡¯, heading toward a battle of the same sort as his, and a nameless dread awoke within him.

 II-8: Extermination

    The feel of blood and charred dust lingered in the air. Feel, and not stench, as in all truth, whatever Jae-sung could sense was not proper smell, even if his brain registered it in a similar way. In fact, he was not even certain of that fact alone.

    Still, that was not what the Macedda Locusts that made up his ¡®body¡¯ had been going crazy about, ever since the assault began.

    It had not even been fifteen minutes since then. The ground itself shook as their helpers gave the instructors a nice surprise, and Javier had gone on ahead to handle his specific task.

    Which left Jae-sung, as well as the gathered Thorns, to lead the attack itself.

    Not many people should have remained at the facility during late evening, but it did not take even a minute for the first person to run out the back of the building to the right. Indeed, there was a rune of unusual complexity carved in that direction.

    It was well beyond sight, but that sort of sense was irrelevant to the Macedda Locusts, with the unique prana signature attracting them enough to not need further command from Jae-sung. He simply stopped restraining them, then they scattered off like black smoke seeping from the neck of his thin, long-sleeved shirt.

    The black cloud cut right into the path of the frantic young man, and once it made contact with the rune, Jae-sung felt as if a lightning bolt had reached him.

    No matter how far away they were, the locusts remained linked to him in absolute symbiosis. One that granted him visceral knowledge of anything they felt, whether when checking on the activities of a suspicious dealer, keeping him aware of Javier¡¯s location, or the quality of any devoured meal.

    The density of the airborne prana within the facility¡¯s grounds was special, no doubt, but it had been a mere appetizer, one that made the locusts quiver once they finally bit into the main dish. They devoured the rune with single-minded, instinctual focus, ravaging it like maggots would a corpse, only within a second rather than a week.

    And just like with such pests, the scrumptious feast gave life to more locusts. The mass became engorged, some of them dying from their own ravenous appetite, but many more being born from the surplus of energy acquired. Newborns that in turn, fed with the same ceaseless drive.

    And it so happened that a perfect meal had just appeared, with his escape route plundered away right before his eyes.

    The locusts did not sense things in the way humans did, but Jae-sung was more than comfortable enough with them to recognize a look of instinctive fear and revulsion. Without any attempt at containing his child-like laughter, he directed the locusts toward the youth.

    The black cloud swept over him, and his screams reached even Jae-sung¡¯s subordinates. Some cheered, others tried their best to remain impassive, while many showed horror to match that of the victim himself. Jae-sung¡¯s enjoyment grew in turn, making him shiver in delight.

    The locusts tore through cloth and hair as much as they did flesh and bone. Compared to prana, distinctions among the wholly physical were not as notable, but after a disgusting rat for their most recent meal, this was just delectable.

    Skin tore, blood flowed, and frantic sweating came with panicked use of regulators. It all added to the experience, especially the latter, with the locusts devouring any prana before it could take a meaningful form. Defense, as much as an additional treat.

    All in all, there was no way the young cadet could shake them off, and so he desperately leaned on a wall and scurried away in a half-run, moving as quickly as his ravaged body would still allow.

    A terrible choice that greatly pleased Jae-sung.

    The young man arrived at a spacious room, perhaps a waiting lobby judging from the many seats. None of them were occupied, but the number of people in the room was not negligible.

    Trying to stay in a ¡®safe¡¯ spot until the instructors gave a message? Gathering any possessions left around before making their escape? Jae-sung amusedly wondered for just a moment before having the locusts leave their husk of a prey, now feeble and powerless, for fresher meals.

    These were in no way defenseless. Jae-sung had been told about the small colored tags that indicated a cadet¡¯s years in the force, so he separated the locusts into masses of different sizes in accord. Even so, the first and second-years still managed to fight back.

    Unique spells, impressive movement, and even the lower-class equipment they had were enough to cause damage. The locusts continued to move in high numbers and solid formations, but several of them were shaved away and killed in one go by the attacks that landed.

    Ultimately though, things were no different than with the stronger ones in more advanced years. Even if some locusts died, they would continue to breed and multiply as long as there was prana to eat, a task made even easier as the cadets constantly attempted to gather more for their use.

    It only took a few to fail in completing their spells, their structure compromised and vital prana eaten up by the locusts, for everyone to be affected. The clouds of miasma broke through the thin defense that had kept them at bay and swept two lower years and one higher year first, then another higher year. Three lower years followed afterward, until the remaining five could only rush for their only remaining escape route in a panic. The building¡¯s entrance.

    Jae-sung was almost overwhelmed by the increasing number of locusts, forced to process sensory input and damage from every single one. Pain, excitement, flavor and so much more, but it all meant nothing.

    Inevitable.

    He was a living weapon, one possessing absolute authority over the very concept of a sorcerer. As invulnerable as Alain, and capable of ruin neither Valentina, Irina or even Javier could truly match.

    Memories of a boy like so many others, one who begged and cried and pathetically scoured for any scraps he could find. Glimpses of the incomprehensible machinery, glossy surfaces and delighted researchers faded into dripping black.

    Only that word remained, one he could not be happier to embody.

    Five cadets rushed out of the building¡¯s door and landed their eyes on him. Some might say they were only looking in his direction, but there were no doubts he would be the standout rather than the group of Thorns.

    After all, the largest mass of locusts was that right by him; one of Jae-sung¡¯s arms completely shifted into a cloud of the most unsightly black, with its long sleeve fluttering around. Their expressions as he continued to reveal more locusts, now those making up that beyond his shoulder, were so hysterical he could not have stopped smiling even if he wanted to.

    The only reasons he fell short of cackling were the two cadets that merely glared. One in utmost rage, the other fearless and disgusted. Far from enough to ruin his mood, but his annoyance was certain.

    One of the cadets, a boy who may have been fifteen or so, unfurled and fired a Gamma-class rifle so quickly that some Thorns took a half-step back in reflex. Jae-sung compelled his swarm forward in response.

    Macedda Locusts were much better at offense than defense. Such attacks as well as completed spells were made of prana, of course, but their transformed state¡¯s properties took precedence before they could be broken down and eaten. Therefore, the first layers of locusts would naturally perish upon clashing.

    This stopped being an issue if they got close enough and in enough numbers to devour spells before they could fully form, but the current swarm was of such a large size that Jae-sung did not hesitate to block the shot with it. Many locusts died instantly as they were burned and crushed, but the black cloud powered through without much loss in its total bulk.

    The boy reacted quickly with an immediate retreat, but for all his bravado, he was not quite fast enough to escape from the swarm. Truly, he was lucky to not be alone, as Jae-sung¡¯s sudden need to move out of another attack¡¯s threat made the locusts falter for a moment, allowing him to barely escape with only an ankle wound.

    Not one second after Jae-sung jumped away, a lamp post of glossy metal had buried itself about a third into the floor he had been standing on. Had they not moved a good distance away when he first revealed the locusts, several Thorns could have easily died from such a violent attack.

    The one responsible? The other clueless cadet, a petite girl with maroon eyes and a clawed arm almost as long as her body, bared in chipped, shell-like flesh of a color like red wine. Judging from the low stump of metal beside her, had she torn the post away and tossed it?

    A shifting type? Like Tina¡­ No, more like Javier? I guess she couldn¡¯t attempt something like that indoors, not without endangering the others.

    The danger of a brute like that, especially to his people, was plenty obvious. The swarm quickly recognized Jae-sung¡¯s new intentions, aiming for a new target before even reaching the boy¡¯s thigh.

    But the girl had already made her next move, digging her monstrous arm into the pavement and drawing an arc as she retreated from the approaching locusts. It was only when she suddenly jerked her shoulder and lifted her claws, alongside a solid piece of floor just over four meters in size, that Jae-sung noticed the seamless transition from defense to offense.

    Not just that, but even as she threw the piece of pavement toward him, the girl had seemingly aimed in such a way as to hit the swarm as well, both protecting herself and killing several locusts from the impact.

    Jae-sung rushed off once more, avoiding the giant projectile, lamenting the fate of some Thorns as he did so.

    Much to his surprise, however, they were ready this time. Not all of them, but he side-glanced at three of them who put their weapons to use. A sword, an arm cannon and a full-arm gauntlet, working together to pulverize the lump of pavement with plenty of strength to spare.

    I guess monkeys from both ends can learn.

    He thought with a smirk, not letting the problematic cadet out of sight even as he did.

    But she was indeed fast, on top of strong. High physical strength did not have to mean one was slow, and oftentimes was a contributor to significant speed. Of course, merely being the strongest would not be enough to match some specialist of quick movement, but the likes of Tina and Javier were still fast enough to crush them just fine.

    This girl seemed to be of the same sort. His swarm could reach her eventually, but not before she threw it off with another improvised barrier or projectile. Not only that, but she was also getting closer to him after each exchange, for the first time forcing Jae-sung to realize the danger he faced.

    He had the range advantage for sure, but his movements were not nearly as agile, and she had begun to exploit that fact before he even realized the need to take countermeasures. There was a real possibility now, no matter how low, that her extreme physical power would reach him. And if it did¡­

    ¡­ It was not a thought he had to worry about anymore.

    ¡°Take it easy, bitch! This one¡¯s still breathing!¡±

    Not only the girl whom the message was addressed to, but even Jae-sung was surprised enough to instinctively turn to the new voice.

    The yell had come from one of his Thorns, a long, curly-haired young woman perhaps in her mid-twenties. But what drew the most attention was certainly the bloody and broken teenage boy in her grasp, whose throat she now pressed a dagger of beautifully lustrous white metal to. She may have been rough enough to already draw blood, but it was difficult to tell with all the wounds the boy already bore.

    After all, he was the first cadet he had attacked during the assault. And just as the woman said, if one paid attention, he was still barely alive.

    Had she gone into the building on her own to get a hostage? Without orders? For the second time in the day, Jae-sung briefly felt he could give his workers a little more credit than usual. The effect was immediate, making the girl with the monstrous arm stop without delay.

    The look of hatred in her face, of utter disgust and frustration most of all, was greeted with nothing but the greatest sense of glee from Jae-sung. Without anything to stop his laughter this time, he let loose the swarm on his pinned target, ready for slaughter.

    The girl tried to protect herself at the last second, however she could, but what escape was there from an all-encompassing, ravenous miasma? The locusts ate at everything, whether they were the places she could not cover for, or the very arms she used for cover. It did not matter in the slightest.

    Clothing and bone were filling, flesh and blood were rich, and regulators were absolutely scrumptious. But this time, none of them were what stood out.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Instead it was that which had driven the locusts completely crazy.

    Something completely different, a flavor so uniquely foreign in its strength and effect on them. Present in varying amounts through the girl¡¯s body, but clustered densely within her transformed arm. In all the years since he had become connected to the Macedda Locusts, he had tried but a mere single digit of flavors with such an effect. Both on them, and on him.

    Addictive, cloying, overwhelming... There was no lack of words that appeared to fit at first, but none of them could describe such a taste in a fully accurate manner.

    Jae-sung felt the locusts squirming on each and every bite, as if they were eating electricity itself. Rather fittingly, whatever led to such a reaction seemed to ¡®supercharge¡¯ them as well, causing the locusts to fill up and multiply at unprecedented speeds. In just a few seconds, the miasma that attacked the girl had almost doubled in size.

    But even if there were new and hungry locusts ready to keep eating, Jae-sung himself could not handle any more through their link. If he allowed them to keep having at the girl, he could not predict what would happen to him. On the brink of a terrifying change, whether it be death or rebirth, he forced them away from the crippled girl.

    As he readied the new, colossal swarm, Jae-sung opened his ¡®eyes¡¯ again after a deep sigh. He saw the defeated girl, torn and sprawled on the asphalt that was steadily dyed crimson, and around five meters away lay the boy whose leg he had injured, making a pitiful attempt to crawl away.

    Intending to finish the job, Jae-sung sectioned off a piece of the swarm and poised it for the attack. However, he saw someone else¡­ Rather, some people moving before the black cloud set forth.

    A group of three Thorns of varying ages and looks with knight weapons at the ready, but they were far from the most threatening thing about them. Neither were their numbers, or even the fact that so many behind them seemed to start their own march.

    What could definitely not be ignored were the expressions on their faces. A frantic excitement that was so unsightly, so beastly, yet human above all.

    Faces that knew there were no longer any consequences. The intoxication of power.

    Far from just the boy, there should not be anyone in the world who could tolerate people like that drawing even a bit closer. But he could not get up, so he could only rely on the Gamma-class pistol from earlier.

    However, a heated shot that could easily crack a wall was stopped by the gauntlet one of the Thorns wore, one that projected a prana shield wide enough to cover them all. The boy kept firing away with hollow eyes, again and again to no avail as the Thorns surrounded him.

    Dry breaking sounds accompanied the hits and shots, but the boy still did not let out a single scream. In contrast, the other two who had also escaped from the building simply ran, any small hope their peers had inspired now shattered into pieces.

    Roaches.

    Jae-sung smirked and raised a hand, drawing the attention of his workers as he stepped forward.

    ¡°Those two are probably heading for the armory. They¡¯ll be telling anyone else still here to do the same, what with their comms and escape devices all messed up. Contact said it was the safest place, and it¡¯s right where we¡¯re headed too. Let them lead the way, and ready yourselves to meet more of them. But as for you specifically¡­¡±

    His words surprised the Thorns and made them stop almost as soon as they began moving. The enormous swarm then split into two masses, one floating toward the three young men who had only now stopped tormenting the boy, and the other toward the woman who had taken the hostage earlier.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯ll feel like shit if I don¡¯t reward the only ones with a clue here, so good job reading the room and actually doing something. I could use info if you can get it, so how about you check if any of the pigs inside are still alive, and have some fun~?¡±

    The smiles he received in return, shown just as much in the Thorns¡¯ eyes as on their lips, displayed more delight than any words Jae-sung could have heard in response.

    With the sound of dragged bodies, then marching Thorns behind him, Jae-sung continued his advance toward the armory. The escaped cadets may have disappeared from sight, but the locusts that had spread far and wide continued to perceive them just as clearly.

    While the walk toward the extraordinarily solid-looking armory had only taken a few minutes, it was enough time for a considerably large group of knights-in-training to gather in preparation. From what the locusts could sense, they were a little over a dozen.

    While still outnumbered roughly three to one by the Thorns accompanying Jae-sung, their special powers and training should have allowed them to prevail quite easily. That is, if Jae-sung himself was not present.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter where you aim, get them anywhere that hurts. They¡¯ll be trying to get weapons too, so head inside and fuck them up as soon as you can. Don¡¯t give them any chances to get lucky.¡± Jae-sung told them as they approached.

    And this time, there was no hesitation. As soon as the first target came in sight, hungry clouds of miasma and armed Thorns rushed forward.

    Field-use knight weapons, tools the like of which those very cadets had likely never even held, were fired and swung with reckless abandon. Blood sprayed, skin burned and even the surroundings themselves were razed to an increasingly unrecognizable degree.

    The difference in strength and skill between the two sides was beyond obvious; so significant that despite their inferior equipment and being outnumbered roughly three to one, the cadets would probably end up winning quite easily. That is, if Jae-sung himself was not present.

    He could easily bridge that gap on his own, spreading the Macedda Locusts just about everywhere to become aware of the entire conflict in detail. Every step, every attack, every parry and every mistake.

    The locusts swirled around like a condensed blizzard, covering for any attack that might reach the Thorns and tearing into all openings shown by the cadets. Even the ambush prepared for the first Thorn that entered the armory was for naught, with the black swarm sweeping through the cadets before they could take down even one enemy.

    This was no battle, but merely another meal for Jae-sung. A perfectly tame main course, complementing the overwhelming hors d''oeuvre from earlier.

    He indulged himself in flesh, bone, as well as prana that was so rippling and solid at first; but slowly, yet inevitably lost its vigor and coherent structure. Blood¡­ Warm and dense, slick as it dripped around the locusts, dripped down his own body.

    His body¡­ His blood?

    Jae-sung buckled reflexively, noticing what he had missed the first time. A hit, then a dry sound, followed by visceral pain radiating from within.

    There was no way he was bleeding. The Macedda Locusts that made up his body had no such trait, and in fact took care of all his bodily functions that might require it. But then, what was the heavy fluid that he could still feel even now? What was it that hurt so much that it forced him out of his delighted trance?

    Increasingly more Thorns around him found themselves looking at him, shocked by Jae-sung¡¯s abnormal behavior, but he barely even noticed. His attention was fully overcome by the dreadful realization that he had been injured. Not the locusts that merely allowed him to interact with the world, but that which truly made him himself.

    The last traces of his original organs encased within the mass of Macedda Locusts had been breached, leaking fluid that should never exit them.

    How did it even happen? The enormous miasma left no blind spots, making him aware of every possible threat in a radius well over fifty meters around him. Dangers such as the cadets were being dealt with, steadily overpowered by the Thorns through the assistance he provided. An assistance that would also let him know of any stray spells or attacks headed his way.

    It should have been impossible to hurt him, but the feeling of two more dry hits and the increasingly unbearable pain made his fears all the more undeniable.

    The locusts were just as bewildered, only confirming the severity of the danger he, as their commanding core, faced. Even so, they still failed to pinpoint anything he could identify as the source of that danger.

    Overtaken by a terror unlike any he could remember ever feeling, Jae-sung forced himself to turn. The feeling was clear, the pain even more, alerting him that whatever hit him had come from his back.

    He begged inwardly, pleading that whatever the Macedda Locusts failed to sense on their own could be detected by his facsimile eyes, no matter how much of an emulation his ¡®sight¡¯ actually was.

    He¡­ He could see indeed, for what little it mattered. A crumpled, twig-like silhouette, dripping red that formed a spotty trail behind, with opaque white exposed on more than a few places.

    Dead.

    Was the word that instantly came to Jae-sung¡¯s mind, and also the word that let him know why the locusts had made such a mistake.

    A person like that would never qualify as a threat, not as far as they were concerned. Rather, was there anyone who could be threatened by a dead person? To the locusts¡¯ senses, as well as his own sight, that which stood just over ten meters away from him was but a walking corpse.

    And yet, that corpse held a pistol tightly in its ragged hand, refusing to give in to recoil that should have blown a form as frail as a scarecrow well away. And then its deep, focused eye, glaring at him as if nothing else existed in the world.

    A dead man with a singular enemy in their mind, with a hand and eye that would ensure his shot would land no matter what.

    Crippling, incontrollable fear invaded every corner of Jae-sung¡¯s mind. He tried to call the locusts back so they could shield him from a man on the very precipice of oblivion, not even to attack him. But for a mere instant, victim of his sheer horror, he could not even remember how.

    He saw the man¡¯s finger pull the trigger, the brief flash of the muzzle as the gun coldly fired. The third shot? Fourth? Only such thoughts managed to distract Jae-sung as a crisp impact hit his forehead.

    His body arched back, devoid of any balance as he fell. And as his vision faded into the deepest black, only the dry echo of the discharged bullet could reach him.

    <hr>

    The young man¡¯s mind was in pieces, unable to remember so much as the way his day had begun.

    He held no delusions about the condition he lay in. It was only a matter of time before the machine he called a body collapsed on itself, unable to ignore simple mechanical limitations. His limbs stiff, any small movement felt like the scratching of a rusted toy¡¯s joints. It was not even about the pain anymore; the mere act of breathing required as much conscious willpower as it might take to shoot his own head.

    Everything burned. Air that should have been cold endlessly tortured his open wounds, to the extent that only his dripping blood proved somewhat soothing. The sight in his remaining eye flickered, increasingly blurry and occasionally dark every few seconds. Each step sent ripples into his body, doing nothing but further compound onto everything else and incessantly threaten an arbitrary finish line.

    The time he had spent simply lying on the street, broken as that which he needed to live flowed out of his body, had been enough to make him forget his very senses. Excruciating, terrifying, and yet compared to that static state, every movement he now forced out of himself felt so much worse. Worse than that, he kept losing even more time of whatever he had left.

    Seconds? Minutes? An insignificant amount of life, so many would say, but even that was something he wanted. No matter how miserable his state, he just wished to live as long as he could.

    So what was he even doing? Why would he not just lie down to wait for the inevitable, and perhaps gain even a second more? The answer to such questions was still the only thing that remained perfectly clear.

    Ciara¡­

    Finn remembered. Something beyond himself, a purpose he had to fulfill.

    Things could not be simpler. Until that was over, he would not stop. That was all there was to his role; all there was to his march.

    ¡°Awesome. I¡¯m so happy I helped you, Finn.¡±

    Why did those words stay with him? Who even said them?

    More than the pain and the cold, more than the dread of his life slipping away as he lay on the alley, it was those words that proved to be the greatest torture. A curse placed not on his body, but on his very soul.

    ¡­ Yes. Only by moving toward that singular goal would it finally recede. How funny, for the spark that had made him stand up in the first place to have been a curse of all things.

    Finn was grateful. Never before in his twenty-four years had he felt so awake.

    He could no longer distinguish his surroundings, not beyond the most general of shapes, but the path to follow was an exception to this. The contrast, as well as his lack of solid memories aside from a direction, only worked to his advantage.

    Even so, he forgot how to breathe again, and each step felt like it took a whole day. His balance became quickly compromised, but even his attempt to find support on the nearby building with his arm failed.

    Despair crawled back inside Finn. His body was still a machine in the end, one that ran in accordance with a precarious physical equilibrium. If a key piece of that equilibrium was disrupted, then a body could no longer function properly.

    He could not count the number of pieces that had been crippled in him. The reality of an inescapable end did to his mind what his body had long since suffered.

    But a single sight overcame all that in an instant, blowing away the dark fog of finality for just one moment more.

    Finn saw a person, standing out among the mass of indistinct silhouettes for its detail. A sleek body, a head of well-kept hair, immaculate clothes¡­ An unsightly farce, shamelessly exhibited through the alien black mass that he faded into, from a shoulder to its corresponding hip.

    He had arrived. There was no way to know the distance between them for sure, but that was a superfluous matter. This was enough.

    Enough to force himself to stand back up, even if his hand had not reached the wall that should have been his only chance. Instead, that hand traveled further down, toward a pocket where a hard bump would have been barely noticeable.

    Ciara¡­ Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll¡­ Even I can¡­

    Someone who could do what he could not? What was he even thinking?

    He did not need that. Happy to have helped him? Yes, of course there was a reason.

    Even a coward like me¡­ is still your big brother.

    The pistol was heavy, so heavy that Finn thought he might have lifted a cannon instead. But even that could not stop a smile from forming, creasing his blood-stained cheeks as he lifted the weapon straight before him.

    It was loaded, and he knew just where to aim. The barrel did not so much as shake as he placed a finger on the trigger, then pulled.

    An impact like a hammer¡¯s strike assaulted him, from his hand to his shoulder, then to his torso and the rest of his body. A vibration that could have stolen his embers of life right then and there, carrying enough pain with it that all he had experienced before may as well have happened to a different person.

    But Finn stood firm. He kept his legs in place as much as his arm, and fired again. After all, the enemy was still moving. He crumpled and bent down, squirming in confusion, but was still standing and moving. Finn¡¯s job was not over if that was the case.

    So he fired shot after shot, and for each time he pulled the trigger, more of his shattered body seemed to fade like dust in the wind. He no longer breathed, and even the pain that had been so intense just a moment ago was rapidly losing any meaning or relevance.

    The enemy turned around as more shots landed, the black clouds around him buzzing and quivering incessantly. The expression on his face¡­ What was it? Detail was still there, just like before, but Finn failed to recognize any sort of pattern in it.

    It was all unimportant. When he saw such a face, only one thought entered Finn¡¯s mind.

    Fuck off.

    Once more, he pulled the trigger. And this time, the enemy fell.

    The impact hit his head, and he buckled backward like toy unable to keep balance. His back hit the floor, with as many black clouds as Finn could still see gathered around the unmoving body in a packed, messy manner.

    Finn might have shot one or two more times afterward, but there was no way for him to know. Even if his pistol had run out of ammo, he could not even feel its blowback anymore.

    ¡­ Over?

    Even that he was not sure about, not before what seemed like a full hour of looking at the downed body had passed. However, a new reality did gradually seep into his consciousness, no matter how slowly.

    ¡­ Yes. Ciara¡­ You¡¯ll be¡­ It¡¯s all okay now¡­

    Impossibly scorching cold had long since left his body, replaced by a void-like numbness that allowed nothing to escape, but that changed yet again. No matter how small, how faint and mysterious, a sliver of warmth was all that now remained.

    There¡¯s¡­ There¡¯s still your birthday, right? It¡¯s sooner than m¡­ Sooner¡­ Sooner than what?

    With such warmth, the smallest inkling of sensation had returned to the young man¡¯s body. It was due to such, that he noticed the unusual, sudden pressure that replaced his arm so very briefly.

    He turned as much as he could, seeing nothing but the formless silhouettes that had stood near the enemy. They moved, shifted a lot. So weird.

    The young man tried to point at them, wondering if it might help him identify something, and noticed he did not have that arm to point with anymore.

    We haven¡¯t talked about¡­ backup. Backup plans¡­ if you end up not liking kn¡­ What you do anymore¡­

    A similar pressure assaulted his side next, covering the span from his chest to his right hip, and his field of view changed drastically. So much faster than before, he no longer saw the silhouettes of people, nor the outlines of buildings. He saw¡­ the sky.

    Detail? Detail¡­ Was not needed. The sky¡­ was just the sky.

    A view then covered by a dazzling light.

    I wanted to see you again,

    Ciar¡ª

    And Finn Morrigan knew no more.

 III-1: Light and Darkness

    ¡°So? Any luck?¡± Tatyana asked, keeping her gaze straight forward atop her partner dragon, Sig.

    Edmond opened his closed eyes after several seconds, then sighed apprehensively with both hands on hard black scales.

    ¡°It¡¯s no use. I¡¯m not the best sensor, but it¡¯s obvious how messed up the prana lines are now. If they took care of those, the standard lines are almost certainly down too.¡±

    ¡°So there¡¯s no extra help we can expect¡­ At least not until the police or other people find out what¡¯s going on in some other way.¡± Her voice went dry and methodical, so brusquely that Edmond thought it to be an attempt at hiding frustration.

    He knew he would not do any better, and instead looked around in an attempt to distract himself from the increasing pressure on his mind.

    Sig had slowed down his flying speed a fair amount, trying to not alert any Thorns to their presence before they were ready. But they were already well within the facility¡¯s grounds, which meant there should not be much time before¡ª

    ¡°There he is.¡± Tatyana said with a low voice, and Edmond leaned forward so quickly he almost lost his balance.

    Prana flowed through his eyes, enhancing a sight that flicked across the general area until settling on a particular spot. One that seemed to have drawn his eyes in the correct direction by itself.

    The distance separating them was still considerable, and little detail could be made out through vision alone. But the silhouette standing in the middle of the training fields was large, unique in the beast-like strength of its posture and above all, the aura seeping from its outline was unmistakable for someone who had seen him up close.

    ¡°Of course he¡¯d be.¡±

    Hellbound was waiting, looking up at the gradually forming rift with apparent curiosity.

    ¡°He hasn¡¯t noticed us, I think. That means a chance to even things out.¡± Tatyana¡¯s tone was decisive, and as threatening as the prana that began to quickly gather around her.

    She was correct. The incident with Wildcard had not crippled either of them, but the injuries they now bore were nothing to ignore either, while Hellbound had enjoyed uninterrupted time to recover since their first meeting. But if he was indeed unaware of their presence, they had an amazing opportunity to equalize the playing field, or perhaps turn the tables entirely.

    However, that was far from the priority in Edmond¡¯s mind. Assailed by sudden dread, he grabbed at Tatyana¡¯s wrist to hopefully stop her spellcasting.

    ¡°What?¡± She turned to him, confusion clear in her eyes.

    ¡°We can¡¯t attack just like that. We don¡¯t know where everyone else is, whether cadets, instructors or just works. There could be a lot of them still in the buildings, so if we start fighting without thinking his counterattack might reach them. He¡¯s probably staying out in the open to make that his advantage!¡±

    Tatyana frowned, seemingly restraining the first response she thought of. After roughly shaking off Edmond¡¯s hand, she replied.

    ¡°Look, fighting Hellbound at all is already a big deal, and now you¡¯re also going to throw this on me? Believe me, I¡¯m also worried about the people who might get caught up in this, but I¡¯m not really in the position to drag him someplace else before¡ª¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t have to.¡±

    Narrowed turquoise eyes widened in surprise. Her lips parted for a brief moment, then shut tight as she lightly hit the black dragon with her heel. Sig¡¯s wings did not quite beat as they did before, but rather shifted in a more gentle and slight manner, leading to a steady increase in their altitude.

    ¡°Be quick.¡± Tatyana said, white vapor coming out as she did.

    Initially surprised by the noticeable drop in temperature, Edmond ignored any extra thoughts on the matter and began to explain, partly to combat the fright coming from their ascent.

    ¡°Like most knight facilities, Seyfelt¡¯s was built around a place that made the practice of sorcery easier. The city itself was also established here for a similar reason, actually. We¡¯re in a mountainous region, but what¡¯s important is that there¡¯s a large and connected cave system neighboring us. Caves where materials such as orichalcum, adamantite and others were mined for profit.¡±

    The more he talked, the more he noticed Tatyana¡¯s expression twisting in bewilderment. He was not quite done, but she suddenly raised her voice as if by simple instinct.

    ¡°Wait, back up! You¡­ How do you even know all th¡­ No, whatever. Just go on.¡±

    He almost felt embarrassed for her as she quickly recovered proper awareness, but there was no time to waste. He followed on.

    ¡°The presence of those materials made the prana around Seyfelt particularly rich, perfect for a knight facility. The training fields in particular were built on the areas where prana was most dense, where such precious materials had been mined out of abundance, but their residual power remains.¡±

    A unique glint appeared in Tatyana¡¯s irises before his last sentence was complete. A very recognizable gleam of understanding.

    ¡°You mean there¡¯s a cave right under the training fields? Where Hellbound¡¯s standing?¡±

    Edmond nodded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure how deep they go, and the training fields are of course protected by several layers of spells, but the actual structure should be kind of thin. If we can make it crumble, the resulting pit would be a much better place for us to take on Hellbound.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Huh¡­¡±

    Tatyana looked about as close to speechless as he had ever seen her. Quite a few seconds passed without another word from her, the high-altitude wind ruffling her bangs and likely causing discomfort in her eyes, but she made no effort to brush them away. Instead, before he could even ask what the issue was, she smirked brashly.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a demolitionist. Now that¡¯s cool.¡±

    Edmond could not help but blush from her response, however slightly as the immense cold would allow. He glanced aside, then down for the first time, surprisingly not afraid of the ridiculous height they were flying at as he spoke again.

    ¡°We still need to figure out just how we¡¯re going to open the pit. There should be a few spots that gather and focus the prana of the caves, which would make them a bit more fragile. If we can destabilize them and use that prana against them, then maybe¡ª¡±

    ¡°No need. Just hold on tight.¡±

    There was no time to even come up with a reply. A tremoring gust did away with his incomplete words, resulting from Sig¡¯s brutal wingbeat that brought them even higher up.

    Edmond¡¯s eyes went wide as he shamelessly clung to the dragon with his legs, and to Tatyana with his arms. He saw what had to be clouds around them being blown away in a violent instant, with the increasingly darker sky behind them being exposed.

    But all of his sudden fear disappeared once he noticed the crippling cold, a discomfort he had almost gotten used to, turning into an all-encompassing warmth; a change so abrupt he would not have been surprised if he was to burn up in the next few seconds.

    Thankfully it did not come to that, allowing him to fully admire the dazzling silver prana swirling around them¡­ and the half-moon standing high in the dusk of winter¡¯s advent, larger and more beautiful than he had ever seen it.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±

    He enjoyed but a split second of the magnificent sight, as with Tatyana¡¯s passionate command came the most ridiculous action of all.

    The brilliant object in the sky became a blur and Edmond¡¯s sight was set elsewhere, completely outside of his control.

    He did not feel any more wing flaps from Sig, and instantly understood why that was the case as he saw the ground approaching. Or rather, it was them who were approaching it, in a powerful and uninhibited dive which the dragon had tucked his wings back for.

    To be frank, even that word almost fell short of such a maneuver, one that made a meteor¡¯s fall pale in comparison. Its speed was blinding and the strength building up was frightening, but there was another reason as to why Edmond was still able to register it all.

    That being the prana enveloping all three of them, a luminous bubble that banished freezing cold and fiery wind alike without letting a single speck penetrate. Edmond found it similar to the silver flames he had witnessed Tatyana let loose more than once, but the familiarity went a touch beyond that.

    A primordial light, similar in color but with a nature that was so clearly apart from the prana Tatyana released. But for all that made them different, the two extraordinary powers melded and spun together so closely as if a matter of destiny, a completeness they could only find with one another.

    Edmond noticed a new spell circle appearing before Sig, and then he saw Hellbound in a position that was hardly different from that he had seen before. The surrounding prana, shining more strongly than ever before, gathered in jagged waves toward the recently made glyph.

    Their dive had become a lethal attack, but the imposing beast of a man seemed to ignore it. Was even this spell below his notice? Or was it perhaps too fast for him?

    But before Edmond¡¯s hopes could so much as fully form¡­

    Hellbound lifted his piercing glare, alongside an arm coated in crystalline growths, and lunged forward with all his might.

    Sig¡¯s flight stopped for an instant as they clashed, a split second in which all sensory information became an indistinguishable blur. Sight, sound, even prana sense had all become meaningless, unable to grasp anything about the small world of destruction that had just been born.

    The first thing Edmond became aware of afterward was Sig¡¯s movement. Just as fast, just as violent¡­ and in the complete opposite direction, until the spread of those gargantuan wings against the sky began to slow everything down, bringing his awareness back to normalcy.

    It was only then that he became fully aware of the strident noise assaulting his ears, though it did not prevent him from opening his nearly burning eyes and witnessing the tribute to ruin that had been left in Sig¡¯s wake.

    It looked like a volcanic plume, a veritable storm of fire flinging charred debris of varying sizes high and wide. With the light of the explosion temporarily making dusk appear brighter than noon, even the raging winds sweeping dust and rock far away were clearly visible.

    Before such a barbaric display of sorcery, the coalescing maelstrom of prana that made up the forming rift was disrupted by a small, but easily noticeable amount.

    ¡°¡­ Hah... Haha¡­¡±

    The light show itself was very brief, but what remained of the colossal dust cloud that was lifted took a few more seconds to clear up. But once it did, a sight just as impressive as the explosion greeted Edmond¡¯s eyes.

    The training field as he knew it was no more, with the combined attack from Sig and Tatyana having shattered away construction and ground alike to leave a jagged, oval-like indent in its place. One that must have measured seventy or so meters where it was thinnest, and well over thirty in its depth.

    ¡°H-Haha¡­ You¡­! Y-You¡¯re actually fucking crazy!¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Edmond could only laugh uncontrollably before such a sight.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome~.¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s voice replied confidently, contrasting his nervous cackling with a light chuckle. Indeed, she and Sig had done what was needed, even if in a way he never could have predicted. So long as they kept the battle within the enormous crater that had just been formed, it was deep enough to prevent any damage to the rest of the facility, while being spacious enough for them to be able to maneuver freely. And if they could remain airborne while at it¡­

    ¡­ Edmond¡¯s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by something unusual. A steady release of prana drifted around them like steam, with the luminous particles that had stuck together so easily before now splitting off and disappearing into the wind.

    Tatyana had not gathered any extra prana, not that he noticed at least, so could it be¡­?

    ¡°We¡¯re heading down.¡±

    The assertion of a seemingly aggravated Tatyana came before he could ask anything, as did Sig¡¯s immediate descent.

    It was a slower flight than before, more of a relatively unimpressive glide instead. Edmond did not expect anything close to the dragon¡¯s recent dive just for their landing, but it still felt different than anything since they had left Phantom and Kloel behind. It was still smooth, control was there, but there was an unusual weakness to the creature¡¯s efforts.

    It took them less than twenty seconds total to reach the ground, around forty meters away from the impact zone and only barely recognizable. Tatyana stepped down from Sig¡¯s back very quickly, enough for Edmond to do the same without being asked.

    He followed her as she hurried forward, stopping by the dragon¡¯s almost meter-long head which she held in concern, without any fear. Sig¡¯s eyes, blue like a spotless day¡¯s sky, struggled in a lethargic manner, with the glowing prana around him continuing to scatter at a visibly increased rate.

    ¡°Is he alright?¡± Edmond asked, suddenly pulling back the hand he had extended in an unconscious attempt to soothe the beast.

    I¡¯m really getting ahead of myself¡­

    Fortunately, neither Sig nor Tatyana appeared to notice. The latter shook her head as she sighed in relief, then replied.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, he¡¯s just exhausted. He¡¯s had to do a lot, between breaking the seal on the door, flying all over the place, the attack we just did and¡­ Well, just step back. You¡¯ll get it.¡±

    Edmond felt slightly unsatisfied by her incomplete explanation, but such concerns were quickly blown away as soon as he complied with her request. A stream of heavy, hot air assaulted his body from the side, causing him to take two more steps away as his eyes went back to the dragon¡­ Or where he used to be.

    The massive body had been replaced by an unprecedented amount of loose prana, spreading far and wide with a density that was almost fluid at so close a distance. It was also fast, like water escaping past a dam that had not simply been broken, but outright erased.

    The bright light dazzled Edmond and forced him to shut his eyes, but the heat was not enough to actually hurt him, while the release itself was brief enough for him to take a look as soon as his eyes recovered.

    The dragon had not disappeared. He had shrunk.

    No, that was not exactly it. Not only had Sig¡¯s size changed, but the overall structure of his body as well. His legs and wings were relatively shorter, stubbier, and the large forward-facing horn that had once rested between his eyes had become an unimpressive bony growth, more like a bump than a spike. His eyes were also proportionately larger, making their fatigued look all the more obvious.

    But of course, overall size was still the most obvious difference. The dragon before Edmond was now perhaps the size of a just-weaned bear cub, no more than ten kilograms in weight compared to the three tons it may have previously exceeded.

    ¡°Is that¡­ normal?¡± Edmond asked, unable to take his eyes off of the ¡®dragon cub¡¯.

    Tatyana had crouched already, feeling around Sig¡¯s ¡®new¡¯ body attentively with both hands. Half to caress him, half in an apparent attempt to check for anything wrong.

    ¡°Yeah. Sig was only born a few years ago, so this is the real him. But if I feed him a clump of prana of enough quality, he can grow to a juvenile state temporarily.¡±

    That was just a juvenile!?

    Edmond shuddered just thinking about the adult that would result from Sig¡¯s full growth, if what he had seen until now was but the mere equivalent of an adolescent. Still not too concerned with anything aside from the young dragon, Tatyana continued.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t fully remember what happened just before Wildcard took me out, but it seems I managed to send one such clump through the Crowned One link before losing consciousness. Still, the change is¡­ stressful for Sig, to say the least. Even without doing anything it leaves him quite spent once he inevitably turns back, let alone if he does all the stuff from today¡­¡±

    Her voice was worried, soft in a way that was not at all pleasing to hear. Edmond¡¯s imagination trip was cut short, as he realized the full extent of the dragon¡¯s efforts.

    There was no need to ask why Sig had stayed behind that sealed door for so long. Dragons had an inviolable position at the apex of all creatures in Tellus, matched by so few that plenty of normal, unpowered people could still list their peers. But one trait that all such beings shared aside from their immense power was their unpredictability, as well as the potential danger that came with it.

    Should his existence become common knowledge, many problems would surely arise between the Knight Corps and Tatyana, who seemingly kept even her status as a Crowned One very secret. If she had chosen to rely on Sig today, it was only because things were that bad.

    ¡°This can¡¯t be a good place for him to rest at, can it?¡± Edmond asked something of much more importance, feeling an increasingly unbearable pressure in his chest the more he looked at the exhausted dragon.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m already on it.¡± Tatyana replied as she finally pulled her hands away and stood back up.

    Right after, the prana surrounding Sig began to light up, like minuscule stars that steadily surrounded him.

    ¡°It¡¯s a protective spell. This shell will not only shield him a good amount, but carry him back to the apartment.¡± Tatyana explained, crossing her arms.

    The pressing ache Edmond felt greatly subsided as a result, but he knew there was still something else to be done. He felt rather ashamed he could only acknowledge it after the dragon¡¯s change, but it would be much worse to just not do it.

    He stepped forward, crouching much like Tatyana had done. Extending a hand, he felt the painful pricks of the prana particles that had yet to arrange themselves properly, but he still ignored them as he reached further.

    Until the back of his fingers lightly touched Sig¡¯s claw.

    ¡°Thank you so much.¡± Edmond said what he should have so long ago.

    The dragon¡¯s cyan eyes briefly opened, following his hand half-lidded as he pulled it away, then settled on him. They stayed like that for the few seconds left before the spell coalesced and smoothed over, becoming a fluttering sphere that softly levitated and hovered with gradually increasing speed.

    Edmond stood back on his feet, following the shell with his eyes while turning, until it finally disappeared from sight.

    Now¡­ It¡¯s finally time.

    He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and then turned back toward the huge pit in the ground. As he did so, however, he was surprised by the sight of Tatyana out the corner of his eye.

    Rather, it was not the sight of her on its own that he found strange. Instead, it was the uniquely perplexed expression she continued to bear even as he focused on her properly.

    ¡°¡­ Erm, what¡¯s the matter?¡± He asked nervously, pondering what he might have done wrong but drawing an absolute blank.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    She was apparently caught quite off-guard, her eyes darting around frantically as she brought a few strands of hair back, behind her ear.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s nothing. I just didn¡¯t expect that from you.¡±

    Edmond could have sworn a crack appeared on his heart right then.

    ¡°Just what kind of ingrate do you think I am!?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that! It¡¯s just, most people wouldn¡¯t think to thank a dragon of all things, you get me? I totally meant it as a compliment, I swear!¡±

    But seeing Tatyana step forward with a panicked voice, trying her desperate best to amend the misunderstanding, he could not really stay hurt.

    ¡°I¡­ I see¡­ Well, thank you too?¡±

    If anything, it felt very good. So much so he had to actively restrain a grin from forming on his face.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to thank me for it, twerp¡­¡± Tatyana sighed relaxedly, recovering her more usual tone.

    Still, the casualness of it lasted for but an instant, as she turned toward the impact zone again with a stern gaze.

    ¡°Hellbound started moving again. Either he just recovered from the attack, or he gave up on pulling off his own surprise attack.¡±

    Edmond was surprised by her awareness. Had she somehow formed a detection spell that could withstand that explosion? Or was this another of her Crowned One perks?

    ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    She asked without hesitation, almost as if to remind him there was no more time to ponder such things.

    Edmond felt the inklings of a shiver as he realized who they were about to face, without the chance for any more delays. But this time, at least for now, he could control himself.

    ¡°I am.¡±

    Tatyana glanced back at him for a second, with resolution and confidence he refused to fall short of.

    At long last, she ran toward the giant crater, with him in tow.

    <hr>

    The boy felt as if time itself had stopped.

    ¡°You¡¯re already twelve, Javi? Well, time sure does fly! Present, present¡­ I didn¡¯t really get you something new for today, but I can give you something better~!¡±

    He knew he must have been lying down for a good while now, but the amount of focus he could muster was not enough to define ¡®seconds¡¯, ¡®minutes¡¯ and much less ¡®hours¡¯. Throughout all that, he had forgotten even the moment in which he stopped trying, with the only reminder being the torn skin on his fingertips and broken nails.

    ¡°Yep, this is what we¡¯ve been slinging for years now, the best snow you¡¯ll ever lay eyes on! Go on, take a hit. Oh, don¡¯t be shy, you¡¯re becoming a man already! ¡­ Hey, come on, are you really gonna be a little shit with your old man now?¡±

    Everything felt dry, a fleshy desert from his chipped lips down past his throat, and his almost burning nose the worst of all. It would be no surprise if even his eyes were parched, as even the ceiling had long since become a vague canvas of indeterminate shape and color.

    ¡°Holy shit, kid. You¡¯re really getting like this over a sniff like that? It¡¯d barely be enough for me to calm down, I¡¯ll tell you that, hahaha! Just give it an hour or two. You¡¯ll definitely be wanting more by then¡­ Oh, right.¡±

    The shivers returned once more, and again they were stronger than the last time. Even now, he became just as terrified of them as on any previous occasion. As he was now, could he do anything if he fell off the bed? Could he so much as twist the worst spots away? Head. Head. Head. If his head hit the floor, he would¡ª

    ¡°It¡¯ll just be for a bit, kid. I swear. I know it¡¯s your birthday and all, but I still got the business to take care of. I know I can trust you and all, but snow can get people a bit crazy, and if that means you end up snorting what¡¯s for selling¡­ Oh well, just stay in your room. I¡¯ll let you out when I¡¯m back, okay~?¡±

    He could still hear. The sounds of footsteps outside the room, the heavy music and various noises between partying and quarrels did not escape him. Still, he could not hear his own voice, not even in his stream of foggy memories. Air escaped his lips whenever he tried, somewhat forcefully at times, but no discernable sound he could call his own travelled through it. And with each attempt, his throat seemed to burn and tear more and more, crippling anything yet to come.

    But even if his voice were to come out, would anyone outside be able to hear it? If he managed to stand back up and tear at the door again with his bleeding fingers, would a single person notice? Was he simply¡­ trapped?

    The boy despaired. No matter how scattered his mind was, even if his body was stiff beyond any effort, he knew he could not just stay in that room. He had to get out, do something. If not¡­ If not¡­

    What¡­ would happen? It was not fully unknown to the boy. Rather, part of his dread came from knowing, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, at least something about what would occur.

    But before he could become fully aware of such, time began to flow again in the world around him. All because of a new, completely different sound coming from what seemed like far away.

    Barking. A dog¡¯s voice, rather than his own. Not particularly shrill, not quick, and he could not even tell if it was particularly loud. Nonetheless, the deep cries of a canine were incessant, coming time after time for what seemed like eternity. The animal stopped briefly for rest, and he heard the dry sound of claws scratching the wooden door before the barking resumed.

    Time and again. More and more. Endlessly.

    The boy clung to such persistent, almost irritating noise with the entirety of his willpower. All alone with his battered form and twisted consciousness, only that barking kept him from falling apart even more.

    Then, he heard more sounds. Voices, still indistinct but he was sure there was more than one, with the door¡¯s opening following right after.

    ¡°Since last fucking night!? We¡¯re having a party when he¡¯s been overdosed and locked up for that long!?¡±

    For the first time in so long, the boy saw something he could distinguish. The forms were far from perfect, many details still missing, but what he heard gave him enough hints to go with.

    Alba, looking more frenzied than he had ever seen her, Capit¨¢n who even now had not stopped barking and immediately hurried to him¡­ And Dad, with a hand to his temple in apparent dismay at the ruckus.

    ¡°It was an honest mistake. Don¡¯t you know how delicate business has been lately? Our territory¡¯s been disrespected so I wanted to unwind for a bit.¡±

    The situation, her fury, and especially the dog¡¯s relentless cries as he sniffed and nibbled the boy¡¯s arm; he seemed just about done with it all. An expression that was tired, annoyed rather than angry, tinged his face as he met Alba¡¯s disbelief without any hesitation.

    ¡°Are you serious!? This is your kid you left like this!¡±

    No matter how repulsed her voice sounded, however, he brought his arm around her shoulders as he always did.

    ¡°But he held on, didn¡¯t he? I know him, there¡¯s no way my son would kick it from something like this. Come on, let¡¯s get Miguel to call some doctors and have some fun upstairs until they get her¡ª¡±

    But this time his arm was violently shaken away. Or rather, it was hit away.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fucking touch me. You¡¯ll keep an eye on Javier and I¡¯ll call the doctors! Nothing else happens until they arrive!¡±

    Alba did not even look back at his Dad as she spoke, already storming off as she wiped traces of tears off her eyes.

    Dad did not pursue her, as he might have done other times, but he sighed and groaned without any restraint as she left. He stretched his arms, fingers linked behind his head as he muttered a few idle expletives, then looked between Capit¨¢n and the boy.

    ¡°See? I told you to not play with him a lot, Javi. Two years in the house, but a street mutt is still just that. They get clingy real easy. And now I¡¯ll have to make do with Sof¨ªa or Natalia instead, when I was so feeling Alba¡­ Fucking damn it.¡±

    Finally, his tired eyes settled on Capit¨¢n alone, who now frantically scratched the barely responsive boy and had even begun to bite him with some strength. Dad¡¯s disappointed expression quickly turned to one of slight amusement, approaching and reaching out with his hand.

    ¡°But this is the perfect time to teach you some things. Javi, remember the motto of our house?¡±

    Dad grabbed Capit¨¢n with a dry sound, strongly enough to elicit a high-pitched whine from the dog as it was lifted high by its neck.

    ¡°Oh, right. I didn¡¯t mean to put you on the spot there, I¡¯m sure you¡¯d rather rest than answer this. You get it as a freebie, then~. A debt¡­¡±

    Capit¨¢n squirmed and struggled desperately, trying to bite to no avail and barely managing to graze Dad¡¯s arm with its paws. But from the few scratches it managed to cause, what was barely seen aside from the blood¡­

    ¡°¡­ is always repaid.¡±

    ¡­ Javier could not focus on such scratches any further.

    As Capit¨¢n¡¯s last cry was cut short, the heavy, warm liquid splashed onto the boy¡¯s cheek, his forehead, his arm¡­

    The figure twitched for a split second more, now sprouting over a dozen spikes of violet crystal glinting from the party¡¯s neon lights. The deep color was adorned by red, fur, red, red, pink, bone red pink red red and red¡ª

    It looked like a bouquet.

    So why was it so ugly it made him want to cry?

 III-2: Clashing Souls

    Edmond and Tatyana descended over thirty meters near instantly, running down the ¡®walls¡¯ of jagged concrete and stone. Hardly an inconvenience, they were actually rather helpful as footholds aiding in their drop toward the bottom of the massive pit.

    They landed on a floor that was quite different, oddly smoother and still seeping enough fresh heat to warm up the air around them. Edmond looked around as he searched for Hellbound, and aside from the multi-colored, gemstone-like traces of magic minerals mined long ago, he noticed the glassiness gradually turning rocky from the edges of the floor and up.

    Such intense heat. Tatyana is one thing, but could I have even come down here without waiting first?

    The softly radiating light was almost misty in its appearance, undulating from the heat, the trapped air, and the dense prana around them. One that felt almost toxic, suffocating, and volatile. The perfect environment for any spellcasting, whether it be theirs or the enemy¡¯s.

    The picturesque sight was quickly soiled by an explosion in the distance, drawing their attention. It was only the first of many, as two more followed rapidly, then one more, yet another¡­ Varying in size, but universally loud.

    ¡°I think we got him. This is probably it, so can I trust you to stick to the plan?¡±

    Tatyana muttered worriedly as she hurried forward, two steps ahead of Edmond. With a heavy heart, he recalled the brief conversation they had while descending into the pit.

    ¡°We¡¯re two against one, and that¡¯s definitely our greatest edge, but that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯ll simply rush him down together. Actually¡­ I think you should stay back and wait, at least at the start.¡±

    Group combat tended to be greatly misunderstood at times. While it was true that two or more people fighting together would almost always have better chances of success than any individual among them, they were not simply adding their power together for superior results.

    Different abilities could vary significantly in their synergy, without even considering the basic strength of the people involved. A specialist in wide-coverage attacks would be unable to use their forte if allied with a close-range brawler, due to the risk of getting them caught up in their own attacks. A weaker combatant may have to be protected so they are not focused down, limiting the fighting freedom of their partner and possibly leading to disaster.

    Knowledge and experience between allies were also key, with the simplest personality clashes having the potential to create gaps in most strategies. Hell, allies could unintentionally get in each other¡¯s way during battle and end up doing worse than they might do individually.

    In the direst of situations, it all meant no guarantees of survival, let alone winning.

    Tatyana surely knew this as well as Edmond did, bringing it up to maximize their chances of victory.

    He had no problems admitting she was stronger than him, with incomparably more destructive capacity at her disposal that, for better and for worse, could affect vast areas. If Tatyana was capable of harming Hellbound, then Edmond was not safe at all, which meant she would be unable to fight at her best if he tried to engage in close combat.

    Staying back was a given, but waiting? Certainly, his mid-range offense was inferior to hers, but not to the level he could not at least pressure Hellbound while Tatyana did the heavy lifting. Forgoing Edmond¡¯s backup was definitely a loss¡­

    ¡­ If he could guarantee he would not hit her, that is. If he made a single mistake at a crucial time, would they be able to recover and turn the tables?

    Edmond knew better than to underestimate Hellbound that much, and Tatyana likely thought the same. With everything in consideration, her initial plan was not only solid, but ideal.

    He inwardly repeated that conclusion to himself, but his chest still became unbearably tight as his eyes darkened. Tatyana was the last person who would be dishonest in judging the value of his presence, one she had spoken of highly two times now, so it was not that he felt insulted. Rather¡­

    Do I really have to just stay put while the fighting is going on? When everything is falling apart like this?

    ¡­ Raw, painful frustration rattled every corner of his mind.

    And then, they finally arrived. Tatyana stopped her run, as did Edmond one step behind her. Roughly thirteen meters away from them stood Hellbound, very recognizable despite changes that only made him look all the more terrifying.

    There was nothing human remaining in his left arm, the one he had used to counter the diving attack from Sig and Tatyana. It was larger and thicker, almost like an elephant¡¯s leg, only composed of spikes upon spikes of purple crystal layered in a manner that was nothing short of twisted. Still, there appeared to be some functional structure to it, one that allowed it to move with more and freer joints than ever, retaining a hand tipped with five claws over twenty centimeters long.

    His arm¡¯s transformation radiated into his chest, flank and shoulder, jutting out in two large spikes behind the latter. Higher up, his neck was also affected, while his cheek followed into a full change of the upper right quarter of his skull, including his eye. Purple crystals of less consistent size and shape sprouted from several other places, and by looking at their distribution, Edmond began to think the overall size of Hellbound¡¯s body may have also increased a tad.

    He could not help but shiver, face-to-face with something even worse than what he had prepared his heart for. As his gaze drifted away due to the creeping fear, he noticed something else.

    By the Unmasked¡¯s feet, mostly at his left side and some others in front of him, lay the crumbling pieces of some creature¡­ creatures. With skin like tar that had reddened from the heat and a white-hot, bubbling liquid flowing out as if blood. From the slightly cracked ¡®glass-earth¡¯ below them, most certainly connected to the recent explosions, realization hit Edmond sooner rather than later.

    Salamanders? I guess she sent fire elementals down to check on things when it was too hot for us to get in¡­

    And they had certainly done the job, seemingly being the ones that alerted Tatyana to Hellbound standing back up. At the cost of being crushed once he found them, that is.

    A one-meter-long upper half suddenly twitched, perhaps as a boon of its non-standard anatomy. But before it could so much as attempt an attack or an escape, the Unmasked¡¯s crystalline arm fell on it like a giant hammer, producing another vivid explosion.

    Feeling it from up close this time, Edmond could not help but take half a step back, unwillingly focusing his sight back on Hellbound.

    Despite his left side being struck by scorching heat and raging winds, he stood right where he was with a completely unchanging expression. Edmond instinctively realized that the salamander¡¯s actual attack would not have been of any more consequence.

    ¡­ But still¡­ Sig¡¯s dive was different.

    He finally noticed what his earlier dread had briefly kept hidden. Hellbound was undeniably injured.

    Traces of blood tainted his hair, chin and neck, as well as the sprouting crystals. It was not that his injuries were minor, but it was doubtful much more would remain considering the extensive burns that plagued his form. Some of his shirt and more of his jacket were significantly tattered, partly revealing even more wounds within.

    He clearly was nowhere near done, but the damage had piled up. He appeared to be in significantly worse shape than either Edmond or Tatyana, but the way in which he stood with perfect poise, breathed calmly and evenly, proved he was more than ready for that handicap. If it was one at all.

    ¡°You brought him along?¡±

    Hellbound spoke with a similarly unchanged voice, indistinguishable from their brief exchange days ago. Without the need for loudness or any inhuman traits to match his appearance, Edmond noticed the power that could command people of any age or background.

    Why was he talking about him, though?

    ¡°What does it matter to you?¡± Tatyana replied coldly, in stark contrast to the prana that had begun to make waves in the air around her.

    But Hellbound followed on without the slightest change in his tone.

    ¡°To me? Nothing. It¡¯s your mistake to bring someone who¡¯s already broken to the battlefield.¡±

    His words felt like a judge¡¯s sentence. They were no insult, nor an attempt to demoralize. Edmond heard nothing but the utmost honesty in Hellbound¡¯s voice, and the effect was all the worse for it.

    What could he even deny? In truth, it was all too much. Let alone Finn, or even Claude and Kloel; potentially dozens of people may have been injured or worse, with merciless criminals on the cusp of gaining unprecedented strength and an even worse disaster about to take place before long.

    How could he not buckle when knowing all that? How could anyone remain composed when thinking about it?

    ¡­ Yes. Even Hellbound himself. Knowing that he was this calm angered Edmond so much that even being seen right through was of little consequence.

    ¡°Do you have any idea what you¡¯re guarding here!? That a rift to Nox is about to open!?¡±

    Hellbound¡¯s eyes slightly widened at the sudden address, then he turned to Edmond. It was truly a glare worth cowering from, but he could bear it this one time.

    ¡°I¡¯m abiding by my end of the deal. That¡¯s all there is to it.¡±

    ¡°Then your deal is shit! It doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re a criminal or not, there¡¯s no way getting these weapons will mean anything if more than a few demons get here! You should know better than anyone that it¡¯s likely us cadets won¡¯t be able to handle them, let alone the Thorns under you!¡±

    ¡°That changes nothing.¡±

    The sudden strength in his voice, no matter how small, practically killed Edmond¡¯s own.

    It was cold and uncaring, but there was something else to it. Something more emotional, more visceral than he expected, even if barely noticeable.

    ¡°This is about survival. You should know that even with us, and others in the Empire and Shadow Spot trying to live like rulers of this city, one city is just that. Beyond this tiny mark, there¡¯s those who could waste us without thinking twice about it, if their gaze simply landed here at the right time.¡±

    Edmond¡¯s memories were thrust several days back, to that abnormal orientation ceremony. What Anastacia Marinca had shown to be capable of just as a demonstration, and she was far from the only one. Just for those he personally knew, there were Alexander and Alyssa as well; people who could bulldoze through this whole catastrophe in less than half an hour. No matter how many priorities they had to deal with, just one call for assistance at the right time was all that was needed.

    There was a reason why communication lines had been disabled, be they standard or magical. More than raw ability, that was necessary to pull off this kind of move. And even when carrying out lesser crimes, the presence of those lines at nearly every moment meant¡­ Just how much thought had to go into every slightly meaningful action?

    Edmond found himself briefly overwhelmed at imagining such a life, and Hellbound was still not done.

    ¡°Before anything else, survival is the priority. Even with that rift, I¡¯ll live on, as I¡¯m sure several others will. For those of us, the tools we obtain today will further help us survive, and those who can¡¯t keep up are an affordable cost.¡±

    He was loathsome. Repugnant and callous, corrupted to his very core, and fully glad to let others fall to his level.

    ¡­ Still, there was not a single lie in his words, nor a hint of sadistic emotion. He was fully honest, confident, and fully accepting of the implications that came with his intentions.

    Hellbound was indeed no cartoon monster; he was a survivor, and utterly human. There was no way Edmond could ever accept a mindset such as his, but as much as he hated it and him, it was still an ideal he could comprehend.

    What kind of life had he led to arrive at such an answer? He could not imagine it, but it likely was their different experiences that resulted in their incompatible priorities.

    Hellbound¡¯s existence was one in which he could only worry about himself, but Edmond had chosen to prioritize others. An option he could reject every day, every hour and every second he was conscious. Privilege.

    Was he simply fortunate? Blessed with the chance to take his own life for granted? And now, before him stood a man who had fought and prevailed without any advantages like that. More than his power, more than his ruthlessness and his frightening body; this thought terrified Edmond more than any¡ª

    ¡°And yet here you are, unable to even get this far if not for the blood of others fighting. Those Thorns you dispose of like low-value bills? It¡¯s due to them risking their lives today, and every day they sell and do what you want them to that you can even claim to be some ¡®ruler¡¯.¡±

    Tatyana cut in, looking at Hellbound with disdain that shocked even Edmond. Not angry, not offended, but disgusted instead.

    Like looking at dog shit on the sidewalk.

    ¡°They fear retaliation. They fear those ranked higher than them and they fear me. Through their own desire for survival, I can control an obedient, effective force.¡± It was somehow enough to make Hellbound show some annoyance as he explained further.

    ¡°Then how about these people whom you fear so much? High-ranked knights, or even the top-rated international agents. People who have dedicated themselves to the survival of many more than just themselves, some of them my age or even younger. And yet, they could raze everything around us in the blink of an eye and end this tantrum of yours.¡± But Tatyana could not care less, speaking her mind smoothly and without any hesitation.

    As if she was not only speaking to him, but to Edmond as well, who felt his fear becoming steadily more bearable.

    Hellbound¡¯s half-crystalline brow furrowed, tearing some of his own skin as he glared.

    ¡°How arrogant and pathetic, to thoughtlessly mention people as if you know all.¡±

    But as intense as his eyes were, Tatyana met them with ease. In fact, she looked as if she could laugh at any moment.

    ¡°All? Not really. But I do know now that you¡¯re nothing but a rabid dog, with a narcissistic streak.¡±

    Not only Edmond, but even Hellbound was left speechless by her incomprehensible boldness. Fittingly, she followed her words without waiting for any reply.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I need examples, you know? I can prove it to you. Is it just survival you care about? Then let¡¯s see who survives here! You, the pathetic stray fighting only to crawl on the street one more day, or Edmond and I, who could have simply escaped from this whole nonsense and instead decided to crush you for more than just ourselves. If we go by your logic, whoever lives would be right, is that not the case~?¡±

    He had been absolutely correct before; she was indeed crazy, in a way that was somehow inspiring before anything else. Unbreakable ego, endless determination and an insufferable drive that caught everyone in her pace. That was Tatyana Nesterova.

    Edmond simply could not stop smiling.

    ¡°Enough of you.¡±

    At least, until Hellbound¡¯s voice resounded once more, followed by a stomp that made the glassy earth below him crack. With his speed a perfect match for his titanic strength, a simple charge was lethal enough on its own.

    Before Edmond could act, he had been struck in the abdomen¡­ by Tatyana, rather than the Unmasked. It was not painless by any means, but he still recovered his footing with ease a little over ten meters away. Her intentions were clear.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Tatyana leapt out of Hellbound¡¯s way in what may have been the same motion, drawing an elegant arc as her body spun back. Spell circles already at the ready, she unleashed two brilliant waves of flame with mere sweeps of her arms.

    The Unmasked dodged them as easily as Tatyana did his rush, but he had been forced to step back and to the side in the process, maintaining the overall distance from before. It was an unfavorable range for a close-range fighter, but even a man who had ignored the assault of several salamanders had to respect Tatyana¡¯s fire that much.

    The girl landed with the grace of a roosting eagle, her expression that of a hunter who had completed every preparation. Her flames had yet to run out after her attack, with those that remained flickering and growing right behind, ready for any command from their master.

    ¡°That¡¯s more like it. I didn¡¯t take you for the talkative type, but you really made me wait. Let¡¯s see¡­ I¡¯ll probably need Blutgang at least.¡±

    The shadow she cast upon the wall of luminous heat looked downright grand, but what drew the most attention were the incandescent spots scattered across, rippling like the trembling surface of a lake.

    What even are those?

    Aside from Edmond, Hellbound¡¯s gaze also seemed to flicker between Tatyana herself and her shadow. The risk-reward equation taking place in his mind could be anyone¡¯s guess, but he seemed to believe a risky attack was preferable to allowing her any extra setup time, as he once again dashed forward with speed that could not have been a worse fit for such a huge body.

    Meteor-like flashes of flame split away from the larger mass before he even took a step, five of them this time. But Hellbound was now ready, moving in such a way as to smash away the first three with an outward arc from his crystallized arm, building up to an even more powerful frontal lunge that punched through the last two¡­ on its way to Tatyana herself!

    She tried to dodge again, but his battering ram of an arm turned in a way that should have been impossible, aided by no less than four joints total in order to pursue her. With that snake-like flexibility, coupled with his speed, there was no way for even Tatyana to dodge now.

    And indeed, she did not, instead blocking the strike head on and causing the air around them to rampage outward.

    Edmond had seen enough to know that Tatyana¡¯s physique was top notch, but seeing her directly confronting the attack from the massive Hellbound was almost ridiculous. He was likely over twice her weight before any crystallization, not to count whatever special powers he employed. Just how much prana was she actively fighting with?

    Even that question became a secondary concern once he looked at Tatyana¡¯s hands, where she held the weapon that had met Hellbound¡¯s arm. The red mist emitted by that longsword¡¯s blade was unlike any knight weapon he was aware of, but his knowledge of Tatyana¡¯s powers, their earlier conversation and the sudden absence of one of the glowing spots in her shadow led to a quick realization.

    An eidolon?

    Once completely inanimate objects that had been exposed to extreme amounts of dense prana, culminating in a unique reaction that granted them a primitive, yet truly independent will. Normally, a sword like that should not need or even want a wielder.

    But if someone could employ it, it had to be a Crowned One like Tatyana.

    Hellbound¡¯s approach had been effective and calculated, but there was a limit to how much a fighter could prepare for true unknowns. His reaction after Tatyana¡¯s block was remarkably quick, but not sufficiently so.

    Tatyana stepped in through the gap resulting from Hellbound¡¯s committal lunge and brought the sword down with her dash, slashing his thighs as he withdrew. The split at the front of his legs sprayed blood all the way to her cheek and shoulder, but the slight loss of balance as his damaged legs stepped back on the ground was the prize.

    That small opening was enough for Tatyana to follow through, exceeding the speed of Hellbound¡¯s retreat as her fist hit his abdomen with a dry, solid sound. The Unmasked¡¯s feet left the ground as he was knocked back, though his impassive expression all but confirmed a lack of significant damage.

    Still, with her opponent airborne and restricted in his options, Tatyana continued her assault with an even stronger dash leading into a one-handed sword thrust. Hellbound turned his head to the side and avoided anything beyond a nick on the cheek, but Tatyana exploited even that as she leapt further in and grabbed at the back of his head.

    She pulled with all her might and brought both knees forward, hitting Hellbound¡¯s face with such force as to almost echo. From her higher up position, her flexed legs suddenly extended, both kicking Hellbound back to the ground and allowing her to rise further.

    He¡¯s fully open now!

    Almost as if she could hear Edmond¡¯s thoughts, Tatyana unleashed what remained of the flames at her back without restraint, shaped into two roughly equal halves.

    In a merciless pincer maneuver, they reached Hellbound before he even landed back from the impact¡¯s bounce. An explosion strong enough to make the far away Edmond step back followed soon after, blowing so much wind he instinctively shielded his eyes with his hands.

    He managed to keep them open and saw Tatyana back on the ground, aiming a piercing glare at the impact zone. It came as a great surprise when he saw the bleeding on her hand and both of her now partially exposed knees.

    Her offense had been close to flawless, exploiting every bit of vulnerability in her opponent without mercy, but she still failed to avoid injury of her own. The dull, heavy sounds in the direction opposite to her proved an even worse reveal, however.

    Edmond turned and saw Hellbound standing back up, enduring the remaining dregs of the conflagration with horrifying resilience. He was¡­ not unscathed, with a cheek that seemed almost torn, as well as significant portions of the exposed skin on his shoulder, neck, calf and flank being truly charred. Even the copious bleeding from both his thighs was hardly impeded, despite being exposed to such intense heat.

    ¡­ No, that was not fully accurate. Sure, the wound from Tatyana¡¯s sword had far from fully cauterized, but what caused the most bleeding was the tearing of flesh from new crystalline spikes sprouting out.

    Hellbound suddenly buckled, one of his knees almost hitting the ground. An almost slimy ripping and cracking noise reached Edmond¡¯s ears as far away as he stood, and then he saw the Unmasked stand back up fully.

    Much like with his thighs, most of his other major injuries had made way for more of that purple crystal, either by piercing through or apparently growing from his very skin. Even without counting his left arm, a solid third of his remaining body was now covered in the thick and sharp growths. A body that seemed to have rearranged itself in various parts to allow for greater size, its height alone being at least thirty centimeters more than that of Hellbound¡¯s unaltered body.

    Edmond had been frightened by him since their first meeting, and nothing had changed since then. But it was only after witnessing such a showing that he fully understood just what kind of opponent it took to make Tatyana doubt herself.

    ¡°Lucky you.¡± His attention was taken away by her own words, spoken with venom-like disdain. ¡°Most people, no matter how strong, start any battle at their peak and only weaken from then on. Such a basic rule of fighting, and yet you break it like nothing.¡±

    Could it have been the way in which she kept her own unease under control?

    Hellbound showed no interest in continuing the conversation, once more rushing for Tatyana while leaving a brief tremor in his wake. He was somehow stronger and faster than before, but still not enough to overwhelm Tatyana¡¯s perception.

    She dashed aside so smoothly as to turn a master bullfighter green with envy, swinging Blutgang in a simultaneous motion. This time it was easy for Hellbound to block, but the brief loss of vision from protecting his face with the enormous crystal arm was not ignored by Tatyana, as she continued her assault with numerous blasts of flame.

    He may have predicted such an attack, or perhaps reacted from the mere change in temperature of the surrounding air; either way, Hellbound began to dodge before his eyes were even uncovered. But such a maneuver was inherently flawed, and so he got partially hit by the third fire spell coming his way. One more was avoided afterward, while the fifth one landed head-on.

    Searing heat washed over Hellbound, horribly burning parts of his skin and pushing him back. Several of the crystals protecting him had also begun to melt at their tips, but it did not even take one second for him to recover and lunge forward.

    His gamble¡­ No, his read was rewarded as Tatyana was forced to block, unable to complete her follow-up strike. The resulting echo made Edmond wish he had covered his ears, and unlike before, Tatyana¡¯s hands and legs now trembled as they tried to contest Hellbound¡¯s increased strength.

    It was something else that made her eyes go wide, though. Due to his greater height and the unique way in which his arm could bend, Hellbound¡¯s fist had Tatyana pinned down to the ground from above. While he was still only touching her blade, she was unable to move away from the pressure that steadily wore her down.

    But there was something even worse. The crystal that formed Hellbound¡¯s hand had changed shape, grown more in the form of several spikes aimed toward Tatyana, inching steadily closer at a speed that was more than enough for this moment.

    An unavoidable death by skewering.

    No!

    Edmond raised his arm immediately, taking hold of as much prana as he could manage. No matter what spell, regardless of their earlier discussion, he had to do something. Anything!

    But right before he could shoot, right as the crystal began to dig into her arms, torso, waist¡­ Tatyana exploded.

    Hardly a metaphor, her surroundings detonated in a massive, dense spiral of raging fire. Edmond was almost blinded, retreating immediately as he saw the flame go from orange to a pale yellow, then blue, violet¡­ and finally that unique silver color. The scorching storm swelled and rampaged, engulfing both her and Hellbound as the surrounding floor turned glossy, with an almost liquid consistency.

    Holy shit!

    Edmond ran off as quickly as he could, instinctively fearing incineration. Only a second or two after he turned back, he saw a single dark spot, a figure that became more and more clear until finally exiting the twisted pillar of flame.

    Hellbound landed on solid ground with a crashing noise, accompanied by his own pained voice. It was no scream, or even a groan, but his breath was labored and hissed, which still felt rather underwhelming considering the state of his body.

    Sections of skin by his left side, mainly on his shoulder and jaw, looked almost like wax; opaque, grayish, like a dead person¡¯s. New purple crystals had sprouted from the worst of those injuries and they had already melted into utter deformity, turning what should have resembled spikes into a mesh of jumbled scales. Nowhere was this more apparent than on his left arm, which while still entirely covered in the substance, had lost perhaps a fourth of its total mass to the heat.

    By a lot, the Unmasked looked more vulnerable than Edmond had ever seen him. But he was still standing, which meant¡­

    If too much time passes, he¡¯ll transform even more!

    He was probably not the only one with such thoughts, as the dense whirlpool of flame suddenly separated as if commanded to.

    Parted. Split. Broke and ruptured. Many sections of the inferno began to come loose as its movements became more rapid, like a wild tornado flinging off fragments of whatever it tore through in its wake.

    Of course, the threat of this new event was massive.

    Hellbound ran off to avoid the thick trails of fire, and after some shock and making sure to head in the opposite direction, so did an already conditioned Edmond. The flames torched everything from the floor of the crater to its walls, and Edmond at last fully appreciated their use of such a battlefield as he noticed the fiery spots left behind.

    Where is¡­?

    Tatyana. His eyes answered the question in his mind before he could even finish thinking it, as he witnessed the girl clashing with Hellbound once more, around thirty meters away. She was different.

    Not quite because of her recovered initiative over the enemy, who was now on the undisputable backfoot as he struggled to counter both the scorching rain and her close-range assault at once. No, she straight up did not look the same.

    Most of her body was now covered by a strange material, mysterious in its nature that seemingly crossed both solid and gas, and arranged in an armor-like structure. There were greaves, there were pauldrons, as well as a chest plate and everything else that would be commonly expected save for a full helmet, which was instead replaced by a thick and seemingly layered mask that allowed her ponytailed hair to blow freely.

    It was incomparably more difficult to keep track of the battle while avoiding the remaining clumps of Tatyana¡¯s hellish storm, but only a few more seconds of direct attention sufficed to let Edmond figure her new armament out.

    Dullahan.

    An eidolon type corresponding to the armors of fallen soldiers from much older times, corrupted by the malice-filled prana that brought them to ¡®life¡¯. A magical entity that was not often relied on as either a familiar or even a guard, and yet Tatyana had seen fit to wear one.

    Edmond was not sure if to be impressed by her being capable of the feat, or concerned about the circumstances that necessitated it.

    Was that inferno so uncontrollably hot even she needed extra protection? Or maybe she had no other option to survive his attack from before¡­

    No matter the case, Tatyana¡¯s Dullahan had shifted the fight in her favor to an increasingly obvious degree. Seconds passed, and each one was punctuated by a slash at Hellbound¡¯s chest, then a kick to his chin, following into a blazing stream that ruined the crystal arm¡¯s gradual recovery.

    Not all of Tatyana¡¯s attacks hit their mark, but her offense¡¯s effectiveness was almost incomparably superior to both her previous efforts and any of Hellbound¡¯s own. There were few openings for him to make his move, but even after the searing shower laid its last barrage, most of the Unmasked¡¯s attempts either were underwhelming at best, or helped the girl pressure him further at worst.

    At first glance, such a development might have appeared rather strange. Tatyana¡¯s speed was barely different from Hellbound¡¯s, and while her strength had likely also increased from the Dullahan¡¯s prana, she still clearly avoided contesting the criminal¡¯s force the way she did earlier.

    Still, his terrifying arm continued to miss, his defenses were breached, and any attempts to retreat were ruthlessly cut off. Within a minute or so of uninterrupted combat, Hellbound¡¯s attacks had reached Tatyana maybe three times, each of them shallow enough to be deflected by her Dullahan armor. As for the girl, she had unleashed over a dozen true strikes, only barely missing the enemy¡¯s vitals.

    Hellbound¡¯s endurance truly shone throughout the exchange. Had it been Edmond whom Tatyana fought, his jaw would already be shattered to bits, his mangled guts would have spilled forth, and his eyes would have burned to ash within their sockets. And for that same reason, it was Tatyana¡¯s skill that terrified him even more as a mere spectator.

    The armor¡¯s protection had been extremely effective, no doubt, but she was now outdoing Hellbound due to an undeniable gap in ability. Their battle had started as a pure contest of power, speed and wits, but after numerous clashes and ample time to figure each other out, Tatyana¡¯s superior technique was an edge Hellbound could not match yet.

    The Unmasked was a fighter as experienced and intelligent as he was physically capable, this much was obvious from the fact he had reached Tatyana at all, and several times at that. He learned quickly and adapted constantly, but even the greatest intuition faltered when lacking a solid base of knowledge.

    Tatyana did not fall behind in terms of insight, and when coupled with the martial arts and sorcery she had properly studied, anything she learned about Hellbound could be exploited with an efficiency he could not measure up to.

    The toughness of his body greatly exceeded hers, by a much larger gap than the one in their skills. But even an advantage of such magnitude was practically negligible; if his attacks failed to land while Tatyana continued to pile on damage, that durability served only to delay an obvious result.

    ¡­ No way.

    Edmond shuddered as he realized the implications of such a thought. He had been a fool to relax for even an instant, no matter the dominance of Tatyana¡¯s current position.

    After all, if Hellbound had proven anything, it was that ¡®time¡¯ was all he needed. Tenacity was his virtue, and survival was his blade.

    He could barely register what happened next out of sheer shock. The Unmasked narrowly avoided a slash that could have sliced off his arm, instead leaving a deep gap by his right collarbone; then, it was his turn to explode.

    As if his body was a compressed tornado, roaring gusts of wind burst outward in response to a deep, cracking echo. Edmond was forced to shield himself with his arms once he noticed the crystal shards in the air, flung far and wide in every direction with enough force to tear the skin on his hands, cheeks and ears.

    By the time he could look again, Hellbound had sprouted so much purple crystal it may as well have been armor of its own, layered and crossed on each place of injury as blade-like stitches. He also noticed the spikes on his shoulder had developed into a larger structure, vaguely similar to the skeleton of a bat¡¯s wing. His other shoulder, which had missed the growths themselves just a few seconds ago, was following suit with a still smaller, yet comparable form.

    The cracking and tearing did not stop and only seemed to intensify as the criminal continued to move, allowing his limbs, torso and even jaw to restructure so that he grew past the three-meter mark. But it was the change on the latter that was the most shocking, since from his recently cut collarbone area, up his neck and to his cheekbones, the crystal spikes now covered everything.

    So seamlessly as to almost look natural, the jaw of a person had been replaced by the maw of a beast, bristling with crystal ¡®fangs¡¯ of irregular sizes jutting out in various directions.

    While Hellbound¡¯s new transformation had taken Edmond and maybe Tatyana too by surprise, it had not interrupted the Unmasked¡¯s counterattack for even an instant. The very outline of his body had changed, and in the middle of a combat exchange at that, but his abnormal fighting instincts led to movements that were just as smooth and even faster than before.

    His restored and improved left arm, almost as long as his increased height, swung with the freedom of a tentacle and the strength of a meteor. But Tatyana had already begun her retreat, perhaps having noticed some ¡®tell¡¯ preceding his transformation. Without so much as attempting to block or parry the strike, even the sudden increase in both its speed and reach was not quite enough to catch her.

    That was what should have happened.

    ¡°Wh¡­!?¡±

    However, just when the tips of Hellbound¡¯s almost forty-centimeter-long claws passed just short of Tatyana¡¯s torso, something that should not have happened took place. A disaster that made Edmond¡¯s voice leak out unconsciously.

    Right as Tatyana dodged, or perhaps right as Hellbound attacked, the purple crystals that had only been produced from the criminal¡¯s body were now on the ground. Not as fragments torn off during the battle or after his recent change, but rather growing from the floor just as they did from his body, drawing a trajectory that roughly followed his attack¡¯s and a fair distance past it.

    That Tatyana had the awareness to try and counter such a sudden threat was truly outstanding, but time was not on her side at all. When she had barely moved half of the distance needed to mount her defense, many spikes on the newly formed stream of crystal had extended well beyond a meter. Without being able to block a single one, the girl was struck head-on.

    The metallic echo of a heavy impact rang, and Edmond saw Tatyana being flung through the air like a sports ball. Trails of blood sprayed far and wide through cracks in the Dullahan armor, imparting him with a dreadful image of what might have happened had she not worn it.

    But he had no time to even briefly focus on that what if, as Hellbound followed up on her sudden vulnerability without any delay. Before he could cover the new distance between them, however, Tatyana raised her face back up while the surrounding prana swirled wildly.

    Countless silver embers ignited all of a sudden, then converged before her at an incredible speed to form a thick wall¡­ No, a shield of scorching flames that were blinding to simply look at, barricading off Hellbound¡¯s approach.

    Could it be¡­ She flew further back on purpose?

    While Tatyana¡¯s injuries more than proved the strength of the crystal sprouting from the ground, she indeed seemed to have been pushed much farther away than what a piercing hit warranted. But if she had somehow reacted quickly enough to try and block the spikes, it was plenty possible for her to weaken the impact by rushing off in the direction she was struck toward.

    It would explain why she had been struck so far away, thus giving her the brief instant needed to construct her lethal protection. One which Hellbound seemed well on his way to collide against, without a single sign of stopping.

    Inertia? Is he not used enough to his changed body to stop so suddenly?

    Edmond could not have been more wrong.

    Hellbound¡¯s left arm had been drawn back, then lunged forward into the wild blaze in a way only feasible through conscious thought. It pierced right through, followed promptly by the rest of his body¡­ with no hints of damage or discomfort shown as his jagged fist collided with Tatyana¡¯s chest and face.

    ¡°¡­!?¡± A gasp like a drowning man¡¯s escaped Edmond¡¯s lips.

    Clearly without any hand in her movement this time, Tatyana flew and spun across the crater like life itself had left her. Within a fraction of a second, she reached the ground and lost no momentum as she slid violently, finally crashing onto the crater¡¯s wall while lifting bloodied gravel and dirt on her way.

    Edmond could not immediately see her through all the dust that had been kicked up in her wake, but there was no need for that. If anything, he was already horrified enough to almost wish he would not have to.

    On Hellbound¡¯s end, he seemed to be downright invulnerable. The remains of Tatyana¡¯s flames clung tenaciously to his body, but even now they had yet to cause him any visible harm. They did not even seem to pain him, as he resumed his rush without even attempting to extinguish them.

    Edmond knew what he was after.

    He¡¯s not done with her!

    It was only logical that the Unmasked would not let such an opportunity escape his grasp. Tatyana may have already been out of commission or worse, but if she was not, she was the last person he would let recover.

    With his frightening speed, he would reach her in the blink of an eye. And once he did¡­

    Edmond did not allow his thoughts to fully form. Before any concrete image appeared in his mind, he had already raised his arm and aimed right between Hellbound and Tatyana.

 III-3: Crowned One

    The surrounding prana was as responsive as it was plentiful. If Edmond did not handle it with particular care, it made for a situation in which he could easily take himself out, but that could not have been less of a concern. In the current situation, what he needed most was speed.

    The unique discomfort carried by spellcasting hardly registered in his mind, not even as he shot five fist-sized shells of orange prana. To say they were faster than Hellbound was generous, but their spread alongside Edmond¡¯s preemptive aim were sufficient compensation.

    Only one of the prana bullets missed Hellbound, another landed on his shoulder spikes, while the remaining three managed to hit his face, making for a satisfying series of ¡®pops¡¯ and leaving sizable trails of smoke.

    How much of his success had been due to the Unmasked possibly forgetting his presence? How much due to somehow hitting his eyes? Either way, Edmond could not have felt more ecstatic as he saw Hellbound come to a forceful stop, his tremendous mass gouging deep marks on the floor.

    His mind was assailed by an entirely different feeling as he saw the criminal not only stop, but fully turn in his direction as well. Eyes more terrifying than any weapon settled on him immediately.

    ¡°Oagkh¡­¡±

    His speech was grossly distorted, twisted due to his fangs, his snout¡­ Everything to do with the transformation of his jaw area. But the relevant emotion was conveyed effectively; more than enough for Edmond to understand him.

    Roach.

    Hellbound charged right after, heading toward him while shaking off the remains of Tatyana¡¯s silver flames without regard. If she had survived his earlier blow, then Edmond¡¯s small interruption was likely enough for her to mount a counterattack. Having lost that opening, it was only natural for him to target the more vulnerable enemy who had stupidly decided to interfere.

    Pursued by a far more dreadful opponent than any he had faced before, Edmond understood what it meant to be ¡®stared down by death¡¯. He was slower, much weaker, exceedingly frailer, and his options with superior range had proven to be a mere nuisance. Still, he did not doubt what he had to do for a moment, nor did he hesitate to take action in front of walking destruction. After all, if that juggernaut went after his life, it meant he was not going after Tatyana¡¯s, or anyone else¡¯s.

    Nothing else mattered. If it meant driving it away from another person, then he would gladly fight against death itself.

    Bring it, Hellbound!

    His Gamma-class shortsword already unsheathed, Edmond¡¯s will overpowered the shivering in his legs and he dashed not one second after the enemy¡¯s movement; not away from the Unmasked, but toward him.

    Hellbound greatly outclassed him in almost every sense, and to get closer was to forgo range, one of his very scarce advantages. However, it was not the only one.

    Almost the entire clash within the crater had been a battle between Tatyana and Hellbound, one that Edmond had borne close witness to at the risk of being caught up in it several times. Most importantly though, he himself had been ignored, remaining a significant unknown while observing and understanding Hellbound¡¯s movements.

    This gap in knowledge was his other edge against the Unmasked. One that let him know he would be crushed or torn to shreds by that crystalline arm or the crystals from the ground should he try to retreat, and also that if he stepped forward while reading properly ahead, he could avoid a direct hit and maybe find one of his own.

    Edmond brought his head and torso down as he ran, swerving toward Hellbound¡¯s right where the eye most affected by the prana bullets was located, and further away from that dreadful left arm. He felt the crystal spikes reach his right shoulder and waist, tearing cloth and skin alike; superficial wounds he could easily ignore.

    He could not help but grin, his gray eyes wide open in exhilaration as he felt the enemy¡¯s attack go right past him. But it was not over; he had not stopped looking even as he dodged, and only now could he finally settle on a target.

    Hellbound¡¯s right arm had long since started to change as well, but it was hardly comparable as a threat to its parallel counterpart. Their differences were many, but one that particularly stood out was that flesh, while sparse, remained present in that right arm.

    More time to choose the right target would have certainly helped, but Edmond did not have it. Aided by the momentum of his evasive maneuver, he gripped his short blade with both hands and drove it into an exposed part of Hellbound¡¯s elbow area.

    Then, Edmond felt his arms stop.

    ¡°¡ª!?¡±

    Had he hit bone? No way. He had barely broken through the skin, and in all truth, even a Gamma-class weapon was plenty capable of slicing through bone when swung with this much strength. But there was another reason for such resilience, a possibility that came to mind right after.

    Is he also laced with crystals under his skin? Down to his insides, maybe? How is he even human!?

    If there was no time to pick a better attack target, there was even less to gripe about the enemy¡¯s unexpected resilience. Edmond would come to a complete halt in no time, and that alone would be an inescapable death sentence.

    All he could do now was power through to his best.

    Come the fuck on!

    Edmond gritted his teeth and focused all the prana he could on his weapon, compressing it almost as if a cover for the blade.

    Hellbound¡¯s blood spurted violently under the whirring orange prana, splashing on Edmond¡¯s hands and cheek as he felt some of that ¡®wall¡¯ inside the arm beginning to give.

    Just a little more!

    Even more prana was forced into Edmond¡¯s blade, making his body feel like it boiled from the inside out. All of his strength went toward his arms, steadily sapping sensation away from them due to sheer strain.

    Then, something like a ¡®crack¡¯ was felt. And with it, the Gamma-class shortsword finally broke through, slashing through more of Hellbound¡¯s elbow as increasing amounts of blood gushed out¡­

    ¡­ Only to stop once more, at around the halfway point.

    Edmond¡¯s body went ice cold, no matter how much this level of prana usage seemed to burn. He had not diminished his output at all, but he could already see the tendril-like left arm approaching out the corner of his eye, so if this mesh of crystal was as strong or even stronger than the last one¡ª

    He did not get to complete his thought, nor did he need to. At some point, Hellbound¡¯s massive arm had disappeared from his view, alongside the whole rest of him. Even Edmond¡¯s shortsword had left his hands, dragged alongside the criminal to wherever he had gone.

    Smothering his recent panic the best he could, Edmond raised his body and looked around frantically for the missing enemy. It took him less than a second to find him, as well as Tatyana.

    Judging from their current positions, she had wasted no time after returning and punched him away with her Dullahan gauntlet, continuing her offense immediately as a strange buzz briefly distorted the air behind her.

    Hellbound had become impervious to her flames, and her armored limbs could push him back at most. It was easy enough to know that if Tatyana had any hopes of injuring him, most attacks from now on would come from Blutgang, and he acted in consequence.

    Forcing those twisted wings of his down onto the ground, Hellbound killed his backward momentum and even seemed to use the recoil to his advantage, thrusting his left arm forward with all tremendous might.

    If Tatyana could not rely on her spells anymore, it was obvious who held the reach advantage between his left arm and her sword. It did not matter if she could block or parry, as merely reaching an effective range, let allowing getting to attack, had become an extremely dangerous task for her.

    Nonetheless, it was not a risk that would ever make Tatyana hesitate, and she continued her advance relentlessly with Blutgang held tightly in both hands.

    Despite the brutal hit she had just endured, her approach was somehow faster than before, though not nearly enough to avoid both Hellbound¡¯s arm and the crystals sprouting from the ground. Even after slipping past the criminal¡¯s initial lunge, his arm¡¯s unique flexibility allowed it to turn and catch her once she leapt to avoid the spikes.

    Tatyana was forced to parry with Blutgang, locking out her remaining offensive tool as expected. But a surprise did come when one of her hands let go of the sword, allowing the momentum of Hellbound¡¯s arm to push her even more.

    There was obviously no need for her strongest grip if she did not plan on contesting the attack, but the intentions behind such a move remained confusing until that same hand reached for the Gamma-class shortsword, still lodged within the Unmasked¡¯s right elbow.

    As soon as Tatyana held it, a rippling mass of silver prana sparked around the blade and into Hellbound¡¯s arm, causing his blood to spurt once more. The force of Hellbound¡¯s attack did nothing but help her as she added her own strength, causing another ¡®cracking¡¯ sound to reach even Edmond as the shortsword finally slashed through what remained of its path.

    The criminal had stepped back at a very impressive speed once he noticed Tatyana¡¯s true goal, sparing his arm from being completely severed off. But the flesh and crystal it remained attached through were quite thin, and his attempts to counter Tatyana¡¯s relentless offense only showed a serious issue in its ability to move.

    In contrast, the girl had smoothly followed into a spinning motion, wasting none of the momentum she had gathered. Now holding a weapon in each hand, she swung both toward the vulnerable Hellbound.

    The Gamma-class shortsword reached his chest, but its shorter length and inferior strength only managed to leave a relatively shallow trail of red across whatever bits of flesh were still exposed. Blutgang was longer and sharper, but Hellbound was blatantly aware of this as he wholly dedicated his left arm to blocking it.

    The eidolon clashed with the mass of purple crystal with a shrill noise, pushing both combatants back and leading into a simultaneous, though likely unintentional retreat. It was only when Tatyana landed a mere four meters or so away from Edmond, aided by an unprecedented smoothness in her aerial drift, that he could finally take a good look at her after Hellbound¡¯s fierce attack.

    An ethereally luminous, vaguely insectile pair of wings fluttered at her back, answering any doubts about her swifter and more flowing movements. With all she had shown until now, it came as no surprise that Tatyana could also employ the salamander-contrasting air elementals, sylphs.

    But there was no way Edmond could focus any more on that, not when she had been wounded to this extent.

    The upper right of the Dullahan¡¯s torso was cracked like a spiderweb, spreading jagged lines all the way to its waist and shoulders to the point that pieces may fall off before they were struck again. A thick red color was smeared across the cracks and surface alike, but the worst of it was definitely on Tatyana¡¯s face, where the corresponding side of the armored mask had indeed fallen off.

    The outer part of her ear had been mangled, while two gashes of different lengths but undeniable depth marked her forehead, cheek and lower jaw. By some miracle, or maybe her own presence of mind, her eye had been spared from such injury, but it was difficult to know if it could see much past the blood that tainted almost half of her face.

    That was just for what wounds were visible, with any blunt force and less obvious damage she had suffered remaining hidden. It came as no surprise that Tatyana would try to restrain any pain from showing, but the slight instability in the hand that threw Edmond¡¯s shortsword back to him revealed far more than any aching groan might.

    The expression he saw as he picked the bloody blade up from the floor, despite dripping fresh, red warmth, was as brash and arrogant as ever.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got no right to call me crazy now; not after that stunt you just pulled.¡±

    Honestly, Edmond could no longer find it reassuring.

    ¡°But it worked, so please, lay back for now. You¡¯ve done more than enough, so try supporting me now and¡ª¡±

    ¡°We both know that won¡¯t work. You got him once because he barely knew anything about you, and while it was amazing to see, things aren¡¯t the same anymore. If you try to fight him head-on again, he will kill you.¡± Tatyana said without a hint of sympathy.

    She was simply being reasonable; even now, only one she could clash directly against Hellbound. But with her injuries, how could anyone just let her jump right back in?

    ¡°Then let me back you up directly! I know it¡¯s not ideal, but are there any better options when your flames don¡¯t work anymore!?¡±

    ¡°Would you be surprised if I said yes?¡±

    Tatyana uttered with utmost confidence as she eyed Hellbound in the distance, who seemed to be similarly preparing to resume battle at any moment. Edmond did not have a reply yet for her words, but she followed on without trying to hear one.

    ¡°Edmond, you did quite a bit more than just save my skin by facing him like that, so trust me for now. I¡¯ll show you something incredible.¡±

    ¡°¡­? What do you¡ª?¡±

    Again, he could not finish speaking. Leaving him with only a brazen smirk and her sharp turquoise look, Tatyana finally set off to meet Hellbound around thirty meters away.

    Their clashes echoed with more speed and force than ever before, causing the air to roar as if they were the eye of a wild storm. Despite winds fierce enough to make him feel he would be blown away, only that strange promise remained in Edmond¡¯s mind.

    What did she even mean? Does she still think she can bring him down?

    It was absolutely ridiculous. Hellbound would only become stronger the more they fought, while Tatyana¡¯s strongest weapon had been neutralized. If she had been unable to take him out before, she certainly could not do it anymore. No one in Seyfelt could.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    The sylph at her back had allowed her to recover the initiative, with movements that were again faster and more fluid than Hellbound¡¯s. They should have made for a significant advantage in combat when combined with her superior fighting technique, but she still failed to demonstrate any of her dominance from earlier in the battle.

    She could deal with the Unmasked¡¯s superior range, but even Blutgang¡¯s slashes were leaving unusually shallow marks the few times she managed to tag him. Meanwhile, not only was Hellbound likely getting closer to another brutal increase in strength; he was seeing through Tatyana¡¯s moves more and more.

    And this time, the tools she could use to exploit her own learning were finally running low.

    Tatyana swung Blutgang. Hellbound lunged with his left arm. An echo strong enough to burst eardrums reached far and away as they clashed, with Tatyana forced to block again after a masterful read from the enemy.

    She narrowly avoided being pinned down like before but was still pushed back, her balance compromised. Still worse than all that was her hands had finally reaching their limit, losing their grip on Blutgang as the sword flew far into the air.

    Edmond¡¯s heart sank. Blutgang was an eidolon, so there was no doubt it could return to her on its own should something like this ever happen. But with Hellbound¡¯s arm so close to Tatyana, as well as the crystals that would follow through from underneath, did that even matter?

    If Blutgang could not return in time, there was no chance any spell from Edmond could, but he still tried to raise his arm. He almost wished he had not, as it only made his bottomless despair swell uncontrollably.

    Hellbound¡¯s arm would reach her before anything else. Its rear back offset by the Unmasked¡¯s full body charge, Tatyana now faced an unavoidable touch of death.

    It was over. It should have been over. And yet, as if the world itself had changed, a flash of vast silver seemed to paint everything over.

    Not like Tatyana¡¯s Area of Influence, not like her flames, nor even like the full moon that had yet to arrive. Edmond had seen it only for an instant, but he already knew this was something incomparable. More powerful, more beautiful; wholly transcendental.

    So effortlessly, the memory of when that girl had saved his life resurfaced with utmost vividness.

    That¡¯s¡­

    It was only when the silver world returned to normal that such copious amounts of blood became worthy of attention. Hellbound¡¯s blood, from his left arm that had been pierced deep, dripped onto the floor-sprouting crystals that had now crumbled away. His eyes went wide, shellshocked; pain did not even seem to play a part in his reaction.

    ¡°Step back, cur.¡±

    Tatyana did not just state, but rather commanded such a thing. It was only when she pushed that new handle even deeper that Hellbound seemed to return to his senses, his mangled left arm producing cracking and squelching sounds as he pulled it off, then leapt so far away one would think he had touched the sun itself. The amount of blood left behind hinted at a perforation well past its elbow.

    Still, not a single drop remained on that lance. Reaching two meters in its fearsome length, it reached over a meter and a half just from vamplate to tip. Whether orichalcum, organite or anything in between, there was no material Edmond could think of that seemed to account for its make. He would have sooner believed that entire silver world from before had condensed into its shape, itching to spread its expanse once more per the luminous, wispy trails the back of the vamplate faded into.

    ¡°That¡¯s a big wound. Should be plenty enough for you to adapt again.¡± Tatyana said in a vindictive, jeering way as she brought her weapon back; ready to attack again whenever needed. ¡°Not that it¡¯ll be of much use now. No matter what stands in its way, Areadbhair will pierce the ¡®essence¡¯ of whatever it¡¯s pointed at.¡±

    The runes that lit up on the lance were rather inconspicuous, enabling a more utilitarian design by remaining around the weapon¡¯s base. But they did not need anything more to assert their power, something Edmond understood instantly despite their lack of similarity to anything he had ever seen.

    And if he could notice that, there was no way Hellbound would not.

    ¡°Khrohn¡­¡±

    Crown. One out of a set of only eleven; the pinnacle among the treasures of this world, with a history and nature beyond current understanding.

    While the specifics of Hellbound¡¯s power still remained a mystery, Tatyana was at least correct about its ability to invalidate that which had hurt him before through increasingly mightier transformations. In the hands of a true survivor like Hellbound, it was beyond terrifying.

    But if Tatyana had one of the eleven Crowns on her side, then her boast was in no way a bluff. No one would doubt its ability to remain effective against any enemy, and Hellbound was no exception.

    For the first time in this entire battle, his hesitation over what to do was obvious. He had gone on the defensive, focused on dodging at times, but even those times there was undeniable conviction in every move he made. Confidence that he drew closer to victory with every passing second no matter how many of his attacks failed, how many injuries he received. Now, he simply faltered, to the point that for a moment, Edmond thought he might try to escape.

    He did not, though. As the Unmasked raised his left arm, having made its crystals grow further to make up for the tunneling hole, he rushed bravely forward once more. Only this time, there was the notable change of not only his right arm similarly readying itself, but even his grotesque crystal maw parting away.

    The tactics behind his approach were desperate enough that Edmond could instantly understand his reasoning, but ¡®desperate¡¯ certainly did not mean flimsy or foolish.

    While Areadbhair was a Crown, a lance was still a thrusting weapon, and Tatyana proved that through her usage of it. In return for reach exceeding that of other close-ranged arms, spears and lances had the weakness of only covering a relatively small area. Target selection with such a weapon was much more committal, as both its form and weight distribution made it unfit for the sweeping motions that numerous simultaneous threats warranted.

    Hellbound¡¯s body had grown to such an extent that Tatyana could not reach his vitals before dealing with his arms, and if she pierced one and its following crystal trail like before, the other would have a clear path toward her. And Hellbound had thought even further ahead, being fully prepared to deliver death with his fangs should Areadbhair still manage to sweep both his arms and the sprouting crystals away.

    A gamble with the highest risk possible, one that would sacrifice something for sure. Hellbound was determined to end everything in this move and had become more dangerous than ever as a result, leaving Tatyana with limited options that were just as risky.

    A thrust, left or right? A sweep, up or down? Maybe a similar gamble, willingly stepping into the enemy¡¯s range to pierce his vitals before he could grasp her?

    She chose none of them. Instead, she went for something completely illogical, and raised her lance straight into the air. Her body left completely unguarded save for the Dullahan, it was like she had given up.

    But that idea was even more nonsensical than her choice in movement. So nonsensical in fact, that it led Edmond to lift his gaze reflexively. As if searching for the reason behind her action, in the direction that felt most likely to hold it.

    He saw a group of radiant spots, lined up toward the sky. The same spots he had seen in her shadow when she called forth Blutgang, and that must have appeared at some point with each entity she had unleashed. Now, they shone high in the air, each surrounded by what looked like¡­ spell circles?

    That was the most Edmond could distinguish, as by the next moment, he was briefly blinded by a peerless light.

    It might have taken his consciousness away, had it not been firmly rooted by the bone-rattling echo and tremoring that followed right after. Edmond instinctively shielded himself with his forearms crossed, then made a truly colossal effort to simply open his eyes again.

    When he succeeded at last, his sight was greeted first by Tatyana with Areadbhair still upraised, and then by Hellbound, who was now pinned to the ground by a massive, rippling pillar of light. Large enough to dwarf even the enormous Unmasked, it may have surpassed ten whole meters in its diameter, while reaching so far into the heavens that no end to it could be discerned. Though in all honesty, the light from it was so brilliant that Edmond could not be sure about anything.

    ¡°¡­! G-Grkh¡­ kghih¡­!¡±

    The criminal seemed to be using every last bit of his everything to not be ground into a charred pulp, but from what Edmond could see, had he almost dodged the pillar? It seemed to be the case, slipping just past its edge from his shoulders up.

    An attack that Edmond had failed to react to, despite facing nothing like the pressure the Unmasked was enduring, and the man had still managed this much¡­

    ¡°Forget alive, you¡¯re still whole? You really don¡¯t know when to quit.¡± Tatyana spoke ruthlessly to the downed Hellbound, showing nothing like the brief, instinctive admiration Edmond felt for the enemy. ¡°Did you think Areadbhair¡¯s ¡®true¡¯ piercing was its only power? Well, you¡¯re not exactly wrong. This is actually sorcery; a spell of my own making, in fact.¡±

    Even in his current situation, the disbelief in Hellbound¡¯s eyes was noticeable, one probably present in Edmond¡¯s as well if anyone looked at him.

    Tatyana was nothing short of a top-notch cadet; she had proven that much and more in front of both Hellbound and Edmond, but this was incomparable to anything that had come before. He would be shocked to see even a platoon captain performing something of this scope, let alone her.

    And yet she had. The proof was as clear as it could be, dazzling him with its sheer brilliance and intense enough to feel like an earthquake. One that was quickly making the clouds themselves vanish.

    ¡°Not that you need to know anything else. Or do anything else, for that matter.¡± Tatyana continued without a shred of pity. ¡°Enough is enough, and you passed that mark long ago, Hellbound. Lives ruined, families destroyed¡­ Your survival, at the cost of spreading fear and suffering every second of it.¡±

    Her words were as fiery as any spell she had cast, and her glare severe enough that it seemed to make the pillar¡­ No, the enormous lance of light even stronger. It heaved and swelled, pressing Hellbound even deeper into the ground as his crystallized limbs struggled to hold on, each finger gripping the ground as if the wavering of just one would do him in.

    Despite his position, no different from a condemned man before the guillotine, he returned her glare with the same intensity. In his gaze alone, no matter what, the full extent of his strength seemed to still reside.

    How¡­? Why? Just what keeps him going!?

    Tatyana¡¯s spell had wiped the sky clear, made the earth shiver and cry; Edmond was struggling to simply stand, let alone remain in place. And yet Hellbound, whom the unforgiving might of such sorcery lay upon, could still show such eyes?

    She gritted her teeth in raw fury, like such defiance at the end, regardless of what he had done, was the worst insult of all. Her hand finally moved, ever so slightly, and the spell dug even deeper as if responding to its ¡®image¡¯ in her grasp.

    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t care. You¡¯ve never cared, so why would anything change now? You¡¯re nothing but a rabid mutt, living for yourself, by yourself¡­ And now, you will die by yourself. Go down!¡±

    At long last, her hand, with Areadbhair held tightly in it, descended alongside judgment.

    ¡°Tathlum Airgeadl¨¢mh!¡±

    The words of power, carrying the last bit of conviction she might have needed, were spoken. And with them, the enormous, blazing lance was fully unleashed at last, drowning any response from Hellbound in a strident torrent of light. Speech or otherwise.

    Edmond had been able to hold on before, but now it became too much. Between the tremoring and the raging wind, he lost his balance and found himself blown away.

    Shit!

    He did not hit his head, but the impact on his elbow and hip was still far from pleasant. Nonetheless, in the time it took him to get back up and blink the light spots out of his eyes, things seemed to have mostly settled down around him. The lighting was back to normal, silence reigned for the most part, and the amount of dust and dirt that had risen was less than expected.

    It did not take long for him to figure out that most of it had likely not been allowed to spread, instead being shoved deeper into the hole that had just appeared on the ground. Just over ten meters in diameter, displaying a strangely uniform circumference and glowing red-hot even now. Rather concerningly, the heat from it reached all the way to Edmond in thick waves.

    He''s¡­ gone.

    Now matter how striking the sight was, Edmond could only think of what he could not see. Hellbound.

    Regardless of justification or way of thinking, it was hard to say such a man¡¯s death was regrettable. He was a despicable criminal, a constant source of tragedy to the city as long as he lived in it, and so evil as to lead that kind of life without any regret. There was no way things would not improve without him¡­ But still, he likely had not always been like that.

    At some time, in some place, he may have been someone crippled by helplessness. Even if too long ago, even if too far away¡­ Someone who Edmond would have done his utmost to save, like so many others.

    Without a doubt, he hated him. But more than that, he hated not being able to bring about an outcome in which that was not the case.

    He was still taken out of such thoughts by the armored figure standing a bit closer to the giant pit on the ground. Or rather, by her very concerning attempts to retain some proper footing; she was shaking like a leaf, from her feet to her fingertips, looking like a scarecrow without proper support.

    ¡°Tatyana!¡±

    Edmond ran worriedly toward her as soon as he could, and in that brief time she had already begun to fall. Despite catching her before she could drop halfway to the ground, he almost let go when touching the Dullahan. It felt like a boiling pot, but fortunately, the sensation lasted for only a couple of seconds.

    ¡°Hah¡­¡± The girl exhaled deeply, very likely responsible for the armor¡¯s subdued response. ¡°You stayed so close by¡­? I didn¡¯t think I had to tell you to scram¡­¡±

    ¡°Good thing I didn¡¯t when you can¡¯t even stand! Just how much did that mess you up!?¡± Edmond¡¯s voice was a tad louder than it probably should be with someone¡¯s ear right by him, but he could not even worry about that now.

    Tatyana¡¯s uncovered eye closed slowly, her breathing slow and erratic. At least his loudness did not seem to be a concern for her.

    ¡°More than I expected¡­ Less than you probably think. I¡¯m just¡­ so tired. I want to rest, Edmond. Can you¡­ help me with¡ª¡±

    He nodded, not needing more of an explanation before he carefully helped her back and down onto the ground. She was not entirely helpless, properly moving her legs to sit comfortably and making Edmond¡¯s job easier as he knelt down, still supporting her upper body in his arms.

    ¡°Good enough?¡± He asked somewhat frantically, briefly glancing back at the massive hole in the ground.

    It should be far enough. Heat aside, even from here it looks almost bottomless. If she were to fall there¡­

    ¡°As good as it¡¯ll get here.¡± Tatyana¡¯s chuckle dispersed his dark thoughts. ¡°Human pillow beats ground pillow every time, you know?¡±

    ¡°Very funny. You better stop, before I drop you from laughing too much.¡± Sarcastic as his reply may have been, Edmond could not stop a grin from forming on his face. ¡°If you¡¯re okay enough to joke around, can you let me know just what that was?¡±

    Tatyana turned slightly, just enough to look back at Edmond for a moment, then spoke.

    ¡°As I said, it¡¯s a spell I made myself¡­ Though it¡¯s only possible due to me possessing Areadbhair. You could say I repurposed it, or rather devised a new, different function from the same base.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I see. And the ¡®function¡¯ is¡­?¡±

    Tatyana chuckled again, more briefly than before as she continued.

    ¡°Areadbhair¡¯s prana is like no other. It¡¯s not only potent, but also dense enough to almost be toxic, threatening to corrupt anything near it by mere exposure. When you get down to it though, ¡®corruption¡¯ from something so powerful is not very different from ¡®amplification¡¯.¡±

    ¡°¡­ So, like particle fusion? Or more like mixing water with a drink powder?

    ¡°Pfft!¡±

    She held herself back from a full cackle, then shrugged. Edmond quickly regretted mentioning the first analogy he thought of, but Tatyana followed on before any real embarrassment could form.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure; it¡¯s not the easiest thing to assess such minute details. What matters is that the sorcery¡¯s structure is of my own making, but it¡¯s tinging it with Areadbhair¡¯s prana that makes it evolve into something of such scope; not just in its output, but also in its qualities. Honestly speaking, it¡¯s a spell even I would not be able to handle normally. Not without an overlay of sixth-tier or above.¡±

    ¡°¡­ And that¡¯s where your ¡®entities¡¯ come in, right? Each one acting as a makeshift replacement for a spell circle, then linking them together...?¡± Edmond asked, nearly at the same pace that his thoughts on the matter formed.

    It was only natural when he thought about it. A sixth-tier overlay; six spell circles structured specifically to manage the same sorcery, held up simultaneously. Even a fourth-tier overlay was something Edmond would only expect from the instructors, not a cadet. But Tatyana did not have to work alone, and making use of magical entities like elementals and eidolons as makeshift catalysts for spells was not unheard of.

    Tatyana¡¯s widened eye, followed by an impressed smile, awoke a strange pride in his heart.

    ¡°Right on the money, though even while having the proper ¡®barrel¡¯ to ¡®shoot¡¯, bearing so much of that prana still messes me up quite a bit. It was also difficult to pull off without Hellbound noticing, but those fireworks I set off were enough of a smokescreen to send them forth.¡±

    The new reveal caused some confusion to also make itself known.

    ¡°Huh? That early? But wouldn¡¯t that risk him wising up even more?¡±

    ¡°I obviously needed the time, twerp. Even in the best conditions, I still need at least a full minute to load up the spell. More than the structural needs and the burden on my body, that¡¯s its greatest weakness. I almost got killed before it was ready¡­¡±

    Edmond¡¯s question had made Tatyana frown initially, but the tone she gradually took, coupled with her singularly arrogant smirk, blew away any semblance of panic and replaced them with a different feeling.

    ¡°¡­ If not for someone interfering at the worst possible time for that giant asshole~.¡±

    Something almost decadent, just like that pride from earlier.

    ¡°Huh¡­ Really? So that bit of time you still needed, I somehow got it¡­?¡±

    ¡°You sure did.¡± Clearly recognizing Edmond¡¯s barely disguised ¡®brag¡¯, she seemed wholly willing to support it. ¡°Isn¡¯t it nice working with someone else for once? We make a pretty killer team.¡±

    Edmond felt his cheeks warm up just a bit from her words, without any chance to resist.

    It would be a lie to say he did not regret putting her in danger, that the extent of her injuries did not make him shiver with each look. But it would also be a lie to say he could have ever taken Hellbound down on his own, or to say that on some level, her presence had not made him feel more at ease.

    His face heated up just a tad more as his sigh gave way to a small smile. Indeed, despite her ignoring the massive part of the job she handled on her own, just to make him feel better¡­ Relying on Tatyana, and having her rely on him was something he liked.

    That epiphany took an undeniable center stage in Edmond¡¯s mind for a few seconds, until something almost incomprehensible crushed it to bits.

    An erratic, percussive sound, repeated so many times in just a second or two. The grating, sharp, ear-splitting echo of something that seemed to crack in response. Trembling of the ground, wild blowing of the air; the ascent of something massive. And with it, a shadow of enough size to cover Edmond and Tatyana along with their immediate surroundings.

    Instinctively looking up, he saw a jagged silhouette almost blotting out the moon.

 III-3.5: Blooming Purpure

    ¡°Phew! So heavy¡­ Makes me wonder how that thin-ass plastic can hold so much. And there¡¯s¡­ like¡­ seven more left¡­¡±

    The college-aged Jorge¡¯s voice was like a roller coaster, going from relief to curiosity, and then disappointment in a matter of seconds, realizing just how many more garbage bags needed to be dragged and put into the dumpster. Taking off one of his gloves for a moment, he wiped the sweat around his buzzcut with his bare fingers.

    ¡°I can do those on my own.¡± Javier¡¯s response was obvious, considering what had happened in his mere four days on the job.

    So obvious, but his older coworker looked almost offended as he looked up at him in disbelief.

    ¡°No way, man! Look, I was just coping, okay? Everyone does it, doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not going to work, much less leave it all to a kid!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m bigger. Stronger.¡± Javier replied matter-of-factly. That much was even more obvious.

    ¡°So what?¡± Jorge insisted, eyes narrowed. ¡°How old did you say you were? Like, fifteen or something? The boss is a major dick so he couldn¡¯t care less, but to me it doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re a giant or a midget; you¡¯re a kid and that¡¯s what matters. Just let me take a piss and get us some water, then we can both finish up.¡±

    Rubbing his hand across his shaved head once more, he exhaled deeply while walking back through the diner¡¯s back door, stretching his arms up with interlocked fingers.

    Javier kept looking for a few more seconds, his expression unchanged in its aloofness, then walked toward the remaining sixty-gallon bags. Without Jorge¡¯s insistence on helping with each one, it would only take around a minute to finish dumping all.

    It was a tad annoying that he could only settle his debts with Jorge when he was away, but he was beginning to get used to it. It did not hurt that it was still much easier than most of what he had to do previously.

    Before that police officer happened to return his second wallet out of the blue, and he revealed the location of Dad¡¯s meet in return.

    Javier had always been unusually big for his age, now taller and more muscular than his father and most of the people they often dealt with. To anyone who knew of his youth, the fact he was already working as muscle for relatively big names in their snow operation was a source of surprise, interest, and sometimes offense. He still did not fully understand the logic of it; it only made sense for him to pull his weight in the organization, and such a job was where he could put his biggest strengths to use.

    He had accompanied Miguel to a few meets once he turned thirteen, three months later he was asked to keep an eye on Ana as she took over new territory, and just before he turned fourteen, Dad had begun taking him to every important deal as if it had always been the case. The one from four days ago would have been no exception, had he not skipped after such a heinous act of betrayal.

    Still, he did not feel any regret for the fact, as he did not really have a choice on the matter. He was only repaying a debt in the way that should be most useful to a law enforcement agent.

    Only Javier¡¯s first wallet was indispensable, holding possibly incriminating information, but the second one held most of his cash in hand. It was what he used to afford most of his casual expenses, such as the food truck meal he planned to get before meeting back up with Dad. If that rookie officer had gone out of his way to give it back to him after finding it, there was no way he could let him leave empty-handed.

    Indeed, there was no way around it. It was only what Dad had taught him, something that man would never dare to complain about.

    At first, the officer had been in disbelief, then upset at what he thought was a joke in bad taste before leaving. It was of no concern to Javier, as whatever someone did with a debt¡¯s payment was up to them; but when he checked his police scanner a few hours later, out of nothing more than lingering curiosity, he clearly heard orders and directions that could have only been meant to corner the meet¡¯s location.

    Knowing as much as he could have wished to, there was little reason for him to stay in the city any longer. Once Dad and his associates were caught, the cartel would immediately start looking for possible rats. and deal with them as they saw fit.

    Leaving town for some other place, preferably one under the control of an enemy group, was the only remaining choice. Alone, to attract the least attention possible as he traveled¡­ Perhaps a futile effort, as his absence from the meet was the closest thing to a target he could put on his back.

    Like back then, his thoughts went back to Alba; Sof¨ªa, Diego, the twins. And once again, he did not truly know why. The way they lived at the house was, in purely structural terms, a family; but even if they very roughly played roles like those of mothers and siblings, there was likely no real basis for it. They did not even know who was related to who in that house, only who were Dad¡¯s children and who were his lovers.

    Even so, he had found himself pondering how he could leave with them. The needs of everyone once they were on the road, which of their possessions they could take, how to find a place they could all stay¡­

    Useless thoughts for what would only make things more problematic. But in the end, he still sent one last text message to Alba, telling her what happened at the meet and about the dangers of staying in the city. Crushing the burner right after and trusting her to tell the others so they could all remain safe, he finally left.

    A week had passed since then. The cash he had gathered was enough to afford a very small, but usable motel room within one day, and he had found a cleaning job at the diner by the next two. He could not complain about the pace at which his plans were moving along, having already heard of a service that could arrange an opportunity for him beyond the border, but he knew every day he stayed put was one more day the cartel had to find him.

    Of course, he also knew they could reach him today of all days. But still¡­ He never expected it would be him.

    ¡°Javi!¡±

    By the diner¡¯s entrance, seen as soon as he entered through the back to wash his hands in the restroom, was Javier¡¯s father with that uniquely pure smile of his.

    ¡°¡­? You know him, mister?¡±

    A voice asked confusedly. Perhaps Jorge¡¯s, or maybe the boss¡¯. There was no way Javier could tell, as he had become wholly numb to everything beyond his father¡¯s presence.

    ¡°Sure does; he¡¯s one of my sons. Why¡¯re you dressed like that, Javi? All grimy too¡­ Are you really working here~? Heh, they must have some good-ass chicharr¨®n then! I guess I could eat a few arepas with the stuff; could you get us some to talk over?¡±

    How had he made it out of the police ambush? For him to have found him so quickly was a major problem, but it was of little concern compared to the former issue. Not only had he escaped, but also seemed completely uninjured and relaxed.

    ¡­ If he had prevailed with such ease over that conflict, what could Javier even do now? Nothing could stop his father from dealing with the rat.

    ¡°Hello? You deaf or something, Javi? I know you don¡¯t really like talking but sometimes you need to answer, I¡¯ve told you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Mister, I don¡¯t think our guy looks very comfortable with you here.¡± A voice barely recognizable as Jorge¡¯s answered, with just the slightest inkling of irritation.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Dad turned to him, his eyes like those an insensible person might look at a homeless man with. ¡°I can¡¯t talk to my son now? Is that a rule in this place?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just decency to not interrupt people while they¡¯re working, but that¡¯s not what I¡¯m saying.¡± But Jorge insisted, unconcerned with Dad¡¯s response. ¡°Again, you can just wait until his shift is done to talk to him. If he doesn¡¯t want you here in the meantime, then that¡¯s how it¡ª¡±

    He was completely clueless about the person he was challenging. That was enough for Javier to finally snap out of his stupor.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Jorge.¡± He said frantically, his large hand on his coworker¡¯s upper arm. ¡°He¡¯s my dad, he just wants to talk.¡±

    ¡°¡­?¡± Jorge glanced at him with brows furrowed in confusion at first, annoyance second. ¡°Dude, it doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s obvious how things are, and you don¡¯t have to talk to him if you don¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please.¡± Javier insisted, turning to him with a slightly louder, almost trembling voice. ¡°We¡­ haven¡¯t seen each other in days, he wants to catch up.¡±

    ¡°Finally!¡±

    Dad sighed as if bothered, then around three seconds of silence passed. Jorge did not find any more words in them, though he certainly seemed to search for them. In the end, he could only give up.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Arepa de chicharr¨®n?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d be great. I haven¡¯t eaten in a while, so get me two big ones.¡±

    Seeing Jorge starting to leave before he finished speaking, Dad¡¯s annoyance resurfaced slightly. Still, it had all disappeared when he turned to Javier again.

    ¡°What are you waiting for? Get us a table, Javi. I¡¯m your dad but also a customer now~!¡±

    Javier felt colder from each word his father uttered. He wanted to just go, wash his hands as he originally intended and run away, but his body was not his to freely control anymore. Pressing at the sanitizer dispenser nearby and rubbing the cold fluid over his hands, he guided the smiling man to a small free table by the windows.

    He did not sit down until Dad asked him to.

    ¡°Phew. Four days and you already got yourself a job? Don¡¯t think I ever taught you anything about that, but I guess you really are my blood! Go-getters, you and I.¡±

    ¡°Mm¡­¡±

    A conversation like any other for them. Dad speaking his mind, Javier acknowledging his words with nary a voice. Essentially a daily routine.

    Only the situation was far from routine. Why was his father bothering with something like this at all? Any time he handled a rat, a traitor or someone who messed up severely, it was quick, decisive and¡­

    ¡°¡­ Yeah. Anyway, I was really surprised by how sharp you actually are. Leaving before things got real ugly with that setup.¡±

    ¡­ A new topic caused Javier¡¯s thoughts to spike in a very different direction. He already knew the specifics, but the way in which Dad talked was¡­

    ¡°The police ambush?¡± Javier muttered reflexively.

    ¡°What else would it be, Javi?¡± Dad replied almost sarcastically. ¡°I know you¡¯re too smart for dumb questions. It was hard to believe at first, but you actually saw it coming before any of us! A warning call wouldn¡¯t have hurt, but I guess you didn¡¯t feel comfortable sticking around to buy a burner. Can¡¯t blame you.¡±

    He could not believe his ears, every word he heard sounding too good to be true. Somehow, Dad thought someone else was behind the incident? The cartel was not targeting him at all, despite everything¡­?

    ¡°How did you¡­ make it out?¡±

    ¡­ There was no way. People like them had no shortage of enemies, people who would pray for tragedy to strike them like that. But if an insider just happened to leave before things went down¡­

    ¡°You¡¯re smart, Javi, but remember you took after someone in that regard.¡± Dad narrowed his eyes with a pleased expression, leaning back on his chair without a care in the world. ¡°Though your old man¡¯s more of a cunning fox than anyone else. I knew something was wrong when you didn¡¯t show up, and decided to bail just in case. Cops had already started to swarm the place by then, but they were still few enough for me to manage.¡±

    Such pathetic reasoning. His frantic, unceremonious, incriminating leave had become his show of ¡®innocence¡¯? Worse, the reason for why the man was even standing before him? Bullshit.

    Was it because they were family? Delusion out of some twisted favoritism? It could not be that either. It would not be enough, and his Dad was not¡­

    ¡­ There may have been other possible reasons, but all Javier could think of at the moment was¡­

    ¡°¡­ Dad¡­ About who was behind it all¡­¡±

    ¡­ that another suspect was being targeted.

    ¡°Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that too.¡± Dad replied much too quickly, his smile vanishing as if it had never been present. ¡°While rushing back home to get my cash, I saw them heading out in the car. Alba and such.¡±

    Javier¡¯s mind turned to stone. His eyes failed to focus, everything going by so fast as he attempted to reject every new thought. But his father did not need a response from him; he did not care about one.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I have to say how suspicious it is, that they were getting the fuck out just when shit was about to go down. No cops around the house, nothing at all and¡ª¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean anything.¡± Javier spoke up suddenly. ¡°Dad¡­ No, there¡¯s no way it was them. Look, there¡¯s so many others who could¡­¡±

    For the first time in his memory, Javier had interrupted his father¡¯s speech. He forced himself to say something, still unsure of why exactly he would do such a stupid thing. His thoughts were a mess, and he somehow preferred them that way, as the fact that a whole week had passed since then could mean¡­

    ¡°Javi, you don¡¯t get it. I said ¡®suspicious¡¯, but that was only at the start. It¡¯s no longer a suspicion when she admitted to it.¡±

    ¡­ His father¡¯s words forced something incomparably worse into his head.

    Admitted¡­ Admitted to what?

    ¡°I know it really sucks, but Alba stabbed me in the back. She ratted me out to the cops for some protection maybe, and I was just lucky enough to catch her on the way.¡±

    What? What did she admit to?

    There was nothing for her to say. She did not do anything, no one did. No one¡­ but him, and she knew that.

    Alba was smart, she knew things, she thought about all. She likely did not even need Javier¡¯s text message to know the truth behind everything, and he still had sent it. He was the rat, she was completely aware of that. Why did she say anything else? Why, why would she claim to be behind anything? Why would she admit to¡­

    WhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhy¡ª

    ¡°Trust me, I know how annoying this is.¡± That voice¡ªthat voice continued on, like the only, only thing in the world. ¡°It wasn¡¯t easy, I¡¯m telling you! I slept with her for years, she was good, but it was a matter of responsibility. Can¡¯t let people like that go on about, especially when they even drag others into it. Would you believe me if I said Diego still tried to defend her after all that?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Diego?¡±

    Javier felt nothing but ice within him. An indelible coldness spiraling in every direction; skewering him.

    ¡°Yeah! Was he nine? Seven? Ah, whatever, a kid is a kid, and she still was such a bitch as to turn him against me! Jumping in for a woman who¡¯s not even his mom¡­ Can¡¯t remember if he was Patricia¡¯s or Natalia¡¯s, but he sure as hell wasn¡¯t Alba¡¯s! Didn¡¯t make any sense, the whole situation. Could have ended so easily too, but he just had to get in the way¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ Diego¡­ Diego and Alba?¡±

    Unbearable. Throbbing. He was not injured, so why that cold seem to burn across his whole body?

    ¡°What did I tell you about dumb questions, Javi?¡± But Dad spoke like any other time. Same voice, same mannerisms, same face, same eyes, same tone, sam¡ª ¡°I¡¯m not some sadist, I was happy to just take her head off. But I guess she¡¯d gotten that much into Diego¡¯s head, so he tried to do something and got his ribs busted right out. Poor guy couldn¡¯t even breathe anymore, no voice came out even if he tried, so it was just mercy at that point.¡±

    Cold¡­ Cold? No, not cold. Not anymore.

    Only burning. Burning everywhere. His chest, his blurry eyes, his whirling stomach, his arms¡­ Arms, arms. Arms raising.

    Javier had asked ¡®why¡¯ to something specific, but an answer¡­ Any answer was now enough. And now, he had one.

    ¡°So yeah, whoever else was in the car got away during the whole issue. Are you up for helping Dad a bit, Javi? Of course, we¡¯ve downsized a lot, but don¡¯t you think it¡¯s the perfect time for a father-son road trip to track down¡ª¡±

    An answer that only became more and more clear as his hands moved, increasingly closer to Dad¡¯s face; Dad¡¯s head.

    Capit¨¢n. Alba. Diego.

    Debt. Yes, no matter the ¡®why¡¯, he owed them all a debt. A debt of his very life, the one that still remained.

    But that was enough. So long as he lived, so long as he survived¡­ A debt is always repaid.

    ¡°No.¡±

    Javier said, large hands at each side of his father¡¯s head¡­ Before plunging both thumbs deep into his eyes.

    A quick, squelching noise. Warm, viscous membrane surrounding them. Seeping fluid, and the man¡¯s expression which still had not changed until a full second passed. Only when the pressure from his palms began to make something crack did Dad react.

    Before then, purple crystal had burst out like a twisted, inverted pincushion. Solid, intertwining branches of a material that did not exist in this world, moving to the tune of shrill breaking noises as crimson rain sprayed on the window by their side. Javier¡¯s blood.

    Neither the horrified screams from across the restaurant, the grotesque warping of his father¡¯s face, nor the pain on his shoulder, abdomen and jaw came even close to distracting him from his single goal. As if none of that was present in the same plane of existence, Javier only felt a swelling energy as he noticed Dad¡¯s head gradually collapsing under his grip.

    Goaded by that energy, he pressed further, steadily eliminating any slivers of hesitation that may have remained. His flesh tore swiftly after, followed by the grinding of his bones as newly formed crystals pierced all the way out the back of his hands. Still, not even that managed to rattle him.

    He would gladly mangle his whole body in return for the man¡¯s head.

    Javier pressed once more, then swung his arms down. Whether the promptly broken table did anything, or if his father¡¯s head was fully crushed before the impact, he could not ascertain. The result was the same either way, like fruit through a half-broken blender.

    Javier exhaled heavily, noticing so many sensations returning to his body. He was sweating so much but felt no warmth, aside from the crimson liquid seeping past his wounds without rest.

    From high on the window, down the wall, by the shattered table and further, both his and his motionless father¡¯s blood dripped and spread at a slow pace. Following the trail with his gaze, he happened upon a returning Jorge, who had at some point dropped the tray of food onto the floor.

    Javier could not get a full glimpse of his face. That his former coworker waited even a second before running off was quite impressive, but expecting anything more was nonsensical. Once Jorge, the last person escaped, silence reigned.

    It should have. And yet, it somehow did not.

    Survival?

    A voice spoke up, as if whispering close to his ear¡­ No. It clearly did not come from his side, but rather his front, where nothing but broken wood and a broken corpse remained. Had he lost his mind? Hallucination due to blood loss?

    If you seek survival above all, I can understand.

    The voice followed on, not heard by his ears, but reaching into his very mind. Javier¡¯s attention was somehow drawn to the purple, blood-stained crystals so close to collapse. His gaze on a minuscule crack, he noticed its glacial, but sure spread.

    You¡¯re dying.

    As are you.

    A single fracture, growing and leading to several more. His blood flowed at the same pace, leaving that which he needed to live dry and shriveled.

    But it does not have to be that way.

    He used you to kill them.

    Finally, the voice quieted down for a moment. It clearly wished to speak again, but stopped in the way a human might when interrupted.

    Yes, that is right. It was my power that allowed him.

    Javier¡¯s eyes narrowed, both his swelling emotions and weakening body playing a role. Even so¡­ He reached out for the crystal with his torn hand.

    Then I¡¯ll have you repay that debt properly.

    His skin was pierced once more, but he did not stop. The crystal rippled, pulsating with life in the way no mineral he knew of should. Then, it laughed for but a second.

    To think I would only see this drive¡­

    The crystal began to disappear, steadily crumbling from its tips.

    Only for more of it to appear at the same time, gradually sprouting from Javier¡¯s open wounds.

    ¡­ from one of your kind.

    If all you care for is surviving¡­

    The pain was excruciating, as if a white-hot iron broke through his whole spine. And yet, the hidden strength he felt was¡­

    ¡­ then we will!

    ¡­ unmatched.

    No one else would know for sure what happened at that diner. Called desperately about some family conflict, perhaps drug-related, the police officers dispatched had been warned about the possibility of violence. But when they were retrieved; some maimed beyond recognition, others insensate and amnesiac from injury, and many on death¡¯s door; all they could talk about was one thing.

    Not a father, not a son, but a beast bound for hell.

 III-4: Through the Hellscape

    The massive figure landed soon after, cracking the ground and spreading tremors past Edmond and Tatyana. Even with the dust and shards of rock flung around, its brutal form was easily discernible.

    ¡­ What is¡­ How did¡­

    It did not resemble a human at all, but rather a crystalline purple skeleton. It may have been better to describe it as some sort of crude sculpture, if not for its unnervingly ¡®living¡¯ movements.

    It stood on four large legs that spread out laterally before bending down, somewhat like a lizard with unusually long limbs. The clattering tail that followed its jutting, sectioned spine made for further parallel, before it was torn to shreds by the tattered, wing-like spikes raised opposite to a twisted ribcage.

    Even in that quadrupedal position, its gargantuan head rested a whole four meters above the ground. With an elongated snout and fangs that seemed to crack from their own grinding and irregular protrusion, the skull looked oddly canine despite the sparse ¡®horns¡¯ growing on several spots.

    When the hollow, dark eye sockets turned forward, clearly acknowledging their presence, Edmond felt as if his entrails had become a freezing void. Not just from the harrowing sight, but also from what was likely behind it all; a fact that he had become aware of far too late.

    Even if he can¡¯t adapt for defense anymore¡­ there¡¯s still everything else to work on.

    Hellbound¡¯s ability to endure any harm after enough time, exposure or whatever he needed was frightening on its own. Just the fear that the enemy may very well become invincible if they could not defeat him in a certain time was enough to overwhelm his mind, so when Tatyana unveiled Areadbhair as something the Unmasked could not build a defense against, Edmond had relaxed without realizing to what extent.

    But now, it was beyond clear how stupid he had been. It was obvious across the entire battle that Hellbound was not limited to only evolving his defenses, and if that proved to be a fruitless effort, then it was no surprise his transformations could go into overdrive for all other things.

    The proof stood before them, without a hint of human flesh no matter where one looked.

    Unwilling to wait any longer, the ¡®new¡¯ Hellbound took a step forward, causing the ground to tremble once more. As he did, Edmond noticed another source of shivers coming from very close by. Despite the immediate threat before them, he could not help but turn to Tatyana at that moment.

    Her visible eye was unblinking, wide open in a shock that seemed to take away any control over her own body, no matter how briefly. Lips tight as she likely bit hard to recover some composure, it was not enough to stop the faint, but evident shaking that continued even now.

    He did not have to ponder at all over such a reaction. Tatyana had not only handled the brunt of the fight against Hellbound, piling up heavy exhaustion and increasingly serious injuries, but she had also just unleashed a spell as demanding as it was powerful. If she had failed to merely maintain her footing earlier, how long would it take before she could walk, let alone fight?

    Especially when the one she now faced was a Hellbound who not only had endured that spell, but become even more fearsome for it.

    ¡­ No.

    Edmond instantly knew what he had to do.

    Without hesitation, he slipped one arm under Tatyana¡¯s legs, another under her back, then stood up.

    ¡°¡­!? Edm¡ª!¡±

    Her words did not reach him, no matter how close he heard them. It only mattered to get someplace safe now, and thus he ran off as soon as he could turn, sprinting so desperately as to be painful.

    Even if they failed to stop the rift from forming, there was a chance that the instructors or some other backup may arrive to finish the job. So long as they survived, then it was all¡ª

    Edmond¡¯s train of thought was cut off, just how his own legs nearly were by the huge, blade-like spikes of purple crystal that suddenly sprouted in his path. A sharp chill rippled across his body as he felt Hellbound approaching fast.

    Shit! He can just grow those anywhere now!?

    The inevitability of the fact, being stopped at the worst possible time by an ability he could not know of, led to frustration that almost matched his growing dread. Edmond turned as fast as he could, hoping to slide through the gap between the spikes if necessary, but the sight barely caught by the corner of his eye tore down any hopes like that.

    Hellbound¡¯s hand, or rather the claw from his front leg, was now close enough to reach them no matter where he tried to escape. Once again, it became clear that no increase in size would ever compromise his speed.

    There was no time to even think. That brief interruption from the spikes had been all Hellbound needed to seal their fate. If he was still trying to escape, that is.

    Instantly giving the doomed option up, Edmond gritted his teeth and hurled Tatyana away from the approaching crystal claw. Crude, rash, and pathetic most of all; but she could endure a rough landing and slide.

    While the much more dangerous claw from Hellbound, faster than a speeding car, would reach only him.

    ¡°¡ª!¡±

    There was barely any time between him throwing Tatyana and the impact of the sharp, uneven crystal, far from enough for her to reach the ground. And yet, for part of an instant as brief as that, Edmond noticed so much.

    Ripping of flesh, cracking of bones, stomach contents turning violently and maybe even the bruising of organs. But despite all that, and what was about to come, he became most aware of something completely different.

    You¡­ You¡¯re not even noticing me now¡­ Are you¡­?

    Edmond knew from the start. If Hellbound truly intended to strike him, his body would have been torn to pieces without issue. These injuries, as severe as they felt for him, had been merely incidental as the Unmasked reached for Tatyana.

    Pathetic¡­!

    Feeling as much ache in his heart as pain in his body, unable to properly see or even hear the frantic voice that dimly called out, Edmond felt his fingers graze those of an outstretched hand for one last moment as his vision went white, then pure black.

    <hr>

    Tatyana reached out as far as she could, forcing enough prana into her unresponsive arm for it to feel like a fire ant infestation. Quickly dropping Blutgang, her fingertips touched Edmond¡¯s, but that was all she could manage. Within a fraction of a second, he shrunk massively in her sight and she hit the ground flat on her back.

    ¡°Fuck¡­!¡±

    Pain like an electric shock rippled outward from her shoulders and hip, intensifying that which was already present all over her. The air was knocked out of her, forcing instinctive, panicked gasps out of her.

    Move! Move, damn it!

    Worse than any of the pain was her frustration, the intense rage Tatyana felt at how difficult even the simplest of actions were. Still, it was that frustration that allowed her to maintain focus, enough to grasp as much prana as she could and inject it not into her body, but the Dullahan she was clad in.

    It was an awkward and visibly clumsy attempt, but even if her own body would barely respond to her wishes, she could still ¡®move¡¯ by forcing the armor to do so. The feeling of remote control was strange, more uncomfortable than she expected and no less intense in the ache it produced. However, she managed to sit back up and even began to stand.

    She saw Edmond again almost immediately, and her heart sank.

    He lay well over twenty meters away, face-down at the end of a flat trail of blood. One of his legs had bent in a very bad way, one that should have been so painful until he adjusted his position, and yet he did not appear to move the slightest bit.

    Unconscious, or perhaps¡­

    ¡­ No, no way. This is really not the time, asshole!

    Covered in dirty injuries that seemed to burn her all over, Tatyana still felt a terrible cold surge within her.

    Do something! Get up, scream! Run the fuck away, I don¡¯t care if you leave me here! Please, just show me you¡¯re still al¡ª

    The shadow of a massive claw over her snapped Tatyana out of her panic.

    As impractical as her current way of moving may have been, she had become ¡®comfortable¡¯ enough to at least rush away on reflex. The bristling crystal arm swept through empty space, and she felt the wind blowing violently past her as a result.

    This is the worst. I need to get him, then hide somewhere!

    But how could she get Edmond when unable to even spare him a look?

    While barely able to avoid the gargantuan Hellbound¡¯s attacks for some time, she was undeniably slower and needed every bit of attention to not only react, but also predict what he would do.

    Sharp claws gouged several meters of ground, a jaw with fangs the size of her forearm clamped down with an ear-splitting crash, while more crystals sprouted before her if she managed to move a bit too far.

    She held on tightly to Areadbhair, with both the Dullahan¡¯s strength and however much of her own she could muster, but there was no opening to even attempt a counterattack, let alone rescue Edmond.

    However, the worst was yet to come.

    Wh¡ª!?

    At a time when every moment was crucial, jolts of sharp pain pierced Tatyana from every direction, like countless white-hot screws.

    Dullahan. The armor¡¯s resentful prana, something she could usually subdue without much issue, spiked briefly due to the extraordinary focus required by her unusual movement. It may have been manageable under normal circumstances, but not now.

    She managed to contain it quickly, but the damage was done. Her movements slacked noticeably for that brief instant, and Hellbound did not waste the chance.

    A giant claw descended upon Tatyana, and she could do nothing to prevent it from swatting her down like some bug.

    ¡°¡­!¡±

    She barely suffocated a scream as the ground broke under her. More pain than she recalled ever experiencing started at her back, with only the agony on her hip and legs serving as an unsettling assurance that her spine had not shattered. There was no guarantee it would not happen any moment now, though.

    Her eyes shut and teeth still gnashing to suppress her voice, she had not stopped pouring prana into her armor at any moment. This time, it barely managed to shake, moving no more than she could on her own.

    I¡¯m¡­ pinned down?

    The mere thought of being rendered so helpless was beyond frightening. To be at the complete mercy of such a beast.

    But for some reason, she still lived. She could still feel her legs, barely flexing her knees as she struggled to break free. Her neck was as fine as it could currently be, and her head was still on her.

    In the midst of such confusion, Tatyana finally opened her eyes.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    All she saw was that huge, crystalline skull. Its scraping fangs, the spikes around it, and those pitch-black orbits, which she knew to be staring at her no matter how lifeless they seemed.

    ¡°¡­ What¡­ What the¡­¡±

    Tatyana¡¯s words spilled amidst shivers, but before she could finish anything coherent, there was somehow a reply.

    ¡°Hro krow.¡±

    How could he even produce such a sound? It was no actual voice, and its structure was shoddy, but there was an undeniable form to it.

    Enough for Tatyana to understand what Hellbound tried to say.

    Go down.

    ¡°¡­ You¡­¡±

    Her trembling intensified, accompanied by a chuckle she had no intention of restraining.

    ¡°¡­ You¡¯ve lost your mind already? Is that what this is about?¡±

    Hilarious; hysterical, even. To think her words would have such an effect on him, as lost as he clearly was now.

    Against such a pathetic enemy, she would never despair. She would gladly be crushed before giving him the satisfaction.

    ¡°You rabid mutt!¡±

    She yelled to the extent her throat seemed to tear and thrashed about with renewed vigor. Not only through the Dullahan, but from her own will forcing her body beyond what she thought to be its limits.

    Arms, legs, shoulders, neck, waist. Everything pushed and rattled against the clawed hand holding her, Areadbhair still in her hand as if stuck there, no matter the little use she could make of it.

    But Hellbound, without a single other sound, forced Tatyana back with far more strength than she could muster.

    And she quickly noticed he did not merely press against her. The more she writhed and struggled, the more she became aware of several points across Hellbound¡¯s hand. Increasingly large, sharp points, jabbing at her body bit by bit.

    ¡­ You¡­!

    Forced to hold back her struggles if only for safety, it barely mattered. The new spikes on Hellbound¡¯s hand continued to grow, steadily cracking the Dullahan armor until piercing it¡­ Then reaching her flesh, where they continued to slowly pry their way forth.

    Tatyana¡¯s hands went tight, gripping a painful fist on one side and only stopped by Areadbhair at the other. She shut her eyes once more, grit her teeth and instinctively attempted to flex her legs.

    Collarbone. Shoulder. Forearm. Waist. Thigh. He may have been piercing more than that, but those were all she could remain aware of as her mind went increasingly blank in a white hell.

    Hot tears spilled past her shut eyelids. When was the last time she had cried from pain?

    Thick blood pooled around her, and before too long, the spikes breached bone.

    Tatyana screamed.

    <hr>

    Edmond awoke.

    Not from the pain in his leg, nor due to lack of breath. Instead, it was a faint but unignorable voice that proved the most unbearable.

    Such a brief moment was not enough for him to retain consciousness, but that was where the pain proved somewhat useful. His chest and throat felt like they had been slashed, and when he gasped desperately to escape the crawling darkness, it was as if he swallowed a volatile acid.

    His leg was even worse. While the pain from its terrible position continued to keep him conscious, how could he hope to¡ª

    ¡ªAnother scream.

    I¡­ I need to¡­!

    He tried to move again, knowing that the voice might die down for good at any moment, but his own body stopped him from doing anything significant once more.

    A cracked femur? Maybe his hip and some ribs as well, but he could not be sure at all. It hurt too much for him to think clearly, let alone identify such details.

    Need¡­ to¡­ what?

    For a second, Edmond managed to somewhat raise his upper body and briefly open his eyes. His hands slipped immediately though, unable to so much as bear that weight.

    His chin hit the hard ground, and he briefly noticed another fracture on his chest area before the fiery pain filled his sight with blinding white.

    There was nothing he could identify now. Everything hurt so much.

    Even if I stand up¡­ What will change?

    In such a state, against Hellbound who had trounced him in one blow even before transforming, who had now left him utterly broken without so much as a glance¡­ What difference could he make?

    The answer was obvious. Even in top form, he was no match. At his very best, he still would be unable to help Tatyana, and once that rift opened, he would be unable to help anyone.

    ¡­ What a knight¡­

    The girl he owed his life to screamed again, and he cursed his helplessness. More than the Violet Thorn, more than Hellbound, it was his own incompetence that he despised.

    Days upon days of training and preparation. Months, years even, all for nothing when it mattered the most. He almost wished he had stopped at some point; if that was the case, he could have at least blamed laziness, a lack of responsibility.

    But now and long ago, things remained the same. There was only himself.

    Not strong enough. Not smart enough.

    Not good enough.

    If only¡­ If I was¡ª

    Stop that.

    Edmond¡¯s eyes went wide open. Somewhere in his mind, far and faint, he heard a voice like a reprimand.

    Do I really have to tell you this again?

    No¡­ Not a voice. A memory.

    One he failed to initially grasp in his stupor, and yet remained firmly within him. Unable to leave, no matter how much time passed.

    How could it, when he had built so much of himself around it?

    I¡¯ll say this one last time, Edmond. So please, don¡¯t forget it again.

    The summer sun had arrived, giving her untidy, strawberry blonde hair a flattering, yet regrettable shine.

    She still wore such dark clothes despite the heat. If she lacked style before, then now it was just pitiful.

    There¡¯s no need to lament what you¡¯re not. Focus only on what you can do.

    One eye bandaged up, the other one narrowed in annoyance for just a moment.

    Her hand drew forward, resting clumsily on his shoulder as if she did not know how much strength to use.

    But he could never be upset, not when after seeing her kind smile and expectant look.

    So long as there¡¯s something you¡¯re still capable of, there will always be a reason to keep going.

    Her hand left him, as did she soon after.

    But those words stayed, ready to answer him at any time. Now, and forever after.

    ¡­ Miss Lunaris¡­ Thank you.

    Before he knew it, despite everything, Edmond found himself smiling.

    That¡¯s it¡­ Yes, there¡¯s still so much I can do!

    He pushed a forearm against the floor once more, causing the aches that had settled into a steady flow to rampage once more. His shoulders buckled and bile mixed with blood threatened to escape his throat.

    But he stayed firm, and did not fall even as he raised another arm to his face. He wiped any remaining tears, then reached out for the surrounding prana.

    It was still beyond plentiful, and he only needed to strengthen whatever was strictly necessary for movement. That much he could identify and target.

    At this point, the pain from spellcasting was hardly a concern. As was the technique itself.

    Compared to Tatyana¡¯s exercise, this is easy!

    Femur and hip. So long as those were accounted for, many possibilities would open up.

    The swirling prana entered his body, focused within his leg. Almost instantly, the pain of the fracture spiked, then gradually grew tamer.

    At last, Edmond found himself able to adjust his position, managing to get up on all fours. The next step was standing.

    How much time do I have?

    He had by no means healed himself. The prana infusion may as well be an overdose of performance enhancers, allowing for greater exertion but unable to truly change one¡¯s limits. Any stressful action would cause the pain of his injuries to return in brutal spikes and likely lead, sooner or later, to their worsening.

    But there were much more present concerns to deal with. Ones that he could now finally attend to.

    No matter the situation, no matter my weakness¡­ There¡¯s always something I can still do.

    Shock after shock assaulted Edmond¡¯s body. Even after reinforcing all he needed to take action, the pulses from his injuries as he strained himself further were almost unbearable. His skeleton like fire, the ground almost blades; every single action was so difficult.

    But ¡®difficult¡¯ would never mean ¡®impossible¡¯.

    Even if it¡¯s small, even if it¡¯s insignificant¡­ So long as I can still think of something within my reach¡­ I¡¯ll keep going.

    Edmond stood up.

    Somehow, his gear was still with him. An inkling of a relieved chuckle escaped his lips, now knowing he would not have to look around for it.

    All his focus could now lay on the target of his glare. The demonic man of purple crystal, Hellbound.

    Like a superhero.

    <hr>

    Tatyana¡¯s reason would break soon.

    At least a part of her wished so. Compared to knowing what she slowly drew closer to, it could be preferable.

    But more than a simple, primal attempt to survive, her frantic breathing was a display of conscious resistance. The warmth of her dripping blood and the cold of her weakening body were now meaningless, mere distractions from the raspy, dry feeling in her throat.

    If she allowed that focus to waver, how long would her mind last? The thought alone was somehow more repulsive than that of finally losing consciousness, to never recover it again.

    She forced her eyes to open once more. Feeling them stop at some half-lidded farce, her frustration was renewed. And with frustration, came rage.

    Rage she could use.

    ¡°¡­ Y-You¡­ are worthless¡­¡±

    Her words were a blaze, and her glare sharp steel. Even now, those pits of bottomless black on the crystalline skull remained on her, like something deep inside Hellbound¡¯s hopelessly broken psyche was still bothered by her defiant actions.

    The satisfaction she got almost soothed her wrecked body. Defeating Hellbound was no longer an option in her mind, but if she could still affect him, leave some sort of effect in whatever bits of his consciousness still remained¡­ That was enough for her to keep going until the very end.

    The enormous claw pressed on her once more, its spikes digging cruelly into her body. Tatyana barely managed to drown a third scream, unwilling to show the monster any more weakness, but she knew it would only make him push further until she finally broke. It had happened twice already, so this was nothing new. Her fate was inevitable.

    Or so she thought, before the ¡®popping¡¯ sounds and hot air drew her attention out of sheer strangeness. Her eyes could barely open now, and whatever vision she retained was blurred with tears, but that much was enough to notice that Hellbound¡¯s empty orbits and much of his skull were now covered in equal parts light and smoke.

    She doubted the beast had received any meaningful damage, and his reaction lacking any hints of pain only served to confirm those doubts. But whether it was the mere surprise or his weird vision being suddenly blocked, he had stopped trying to crush her any further.

    It may have been a mere instant, less than a second, but it was still a time frame Tatyana Nesterova could make use of.

    For the first time since they had appeared, she forced her body against the spikes, taking on the hurt that Hellbound had stopped dealing by her own will. More than terrifying, it was abnormal, on another level even compared to the self-inflicted damage of a spell beyond her means.

    But she could still take some more, for just a little longer so that when she found the slightest slack in his grip, she could move her arm.

    Her hand which had still not let go of Areadbhair.

    Its size was not even close to the same, this time coming from the lance itself rather than the sky, but it was undeniably the same silver light that was unleashed at that moment. A light that pierced right through Hellbound¡¯s crystalline hand, and this time, he clearly felt it.

    The demonic beast reared back, frantically pulling his arm well over the ground. Tiny shards of crystal, some more cracked and others more melted, fell off his mangled hand onto the finally freed Tatyana.

    Freed, but nothing else. Her body had not recovered in the slightest, and her numerous injuries were nearly crippling.

    Damn it¡­ I have to¡­ Even if never again, now I need to stand up and¡­!

    She forced her arms to move, forced her legs to flex. Every bit of her body that could muster any strength was either trying to lift itself off the ground or push against it, to varying degrees of inefficacy if not failure.

    There was no time for either. The smoke around Hellbound¡¯s head would clear up, the crystal on his hand had already begun to reform, and then there would be nothing to stop him from¡ª

    ¡°I got you!¡±

    Tatyana did not expect to hear that voice, nor the sight of the recovering Hellbound to disappear at the same time, briefly overtaken by the blur of fast movement across the crater.

    She did not get to turn properly until her surroundings stopped, another reminder of her current state. She felt her body being gently laid down in the meantime, her back resting on what may have been rock or debris, and finally she got to see the one behind it all.

    Edmond, in just about the worst state she had ever seen him in. Stained with dirt and sticky red from his hair to his legs, he painted a hardly better picture than that of his unconscious form.

    ¡°¡­ You look like absolute shit¡­¡±

    While she could feel more relieved to see him back on his feet, that very fact was still baffling to her, even without detailed knowledge on how far his injuries went.

    Still, they were not enough to stop him from replying with a dirty look and grin.

    ¡°I would¡¯ve said you look like crap, but it¡¯s just a difference in manners at that point.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Pfft.¡±

    His words somehow dug chuckles out of her. Painful, difficult, and yet inevitable laughter.

    I really should hit him for that¡­

    There were priorities to deal with, though. The solid pile Tatyana lay against must have also worked as a hiding place, if Edmond had seen fit to stop by it. Of course, there was also the possibility he simply could not move anymore, but their immediate concerns would not change in that case.

    Whatever time Edmond had bought them, Hellbound would not take long to find them. And once he did, there would be no more miraculous chances like this.

    ¡°Edmond, you¡¯ve got to escape. Run up the crater, and don¡¯t look back.¡± Tatyana muttered, her smile quickly vanishing as her brow furrowed. ¡°I can¡¯t thank you enough for getting me back there¡­ But I¡¯ll just weigh you down as I am.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You want me to leave you here?¡±

    She looked down, unable to meet his shock head on, or confirm the implications of her request. Obvious as they were, there was still no way she could say something of the sort out loud.

    But even if she would never readily accept it, the likeliness of the worst scenario was something she was undeniably aware of.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m doing that.¡±

    His rejection was immediate, as expected. Though that did not make it any less infuriating.

    ¡°Look, we¡¯ve done all we could! Nothing but Areadbhair can hurt him anymore and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Can you still use it to attack? Enough gas in the tank for you both?¡±

    Edmond interrupted her, seemingly unbothered no matter their clearly horrible circumstances.

    What¡¯s with him now!?

    Still thinking about a more successful way to convince him, Tatyana found herself responding honestly from sheer exhaustion.

    ¡°If it¡¯s to hurt him bad, I can probably still go for two or three shots. Not that it matters when I can barely move.¡±

    ¡°Wrong; that¡¯s all that matters. As long as I¡¯m here, I¡¯ll make that count.¡±

    Edmond stated with a voice that left little room for retort. Not through loudness or persistence, but rather because of confidence that did not appear to come from either fantasy or delusion.

    Tatyana¡¯s eyes went wide as she struggled for words, seeing him stand back up, seemingly scouting for Hellbound. Fully willing to engage once more.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget you saved my life, that much is enough for me to never give up on you. But more than that, there¡¯s still so much else we can do.¡±

    His tone had not changed, and neither did his ridiculous words. Maybe she had indeed gone crazy? What other explanation could there be for how he seemed utterly lucid to her, despite everything?

    ¡°Just what do you mean!?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t think we can keep him waiting enough for an explanation, but it¡¯ll be very obvious when the time is right.¡± Eyes settled away, most definitely on Hellbound¡¯s massive form, he readied the shortsword in his hand. ¡°Great to have you yelling again, though!¡±

    Baring a wild smile, he set off with such a rude remark.

    That¡­ asshole!

    He came so close to making her laugh a second time, and the resulting smile was simply impossible to restrain.

    Edmond could not have been in much better shape than her. The shivering grip on his weapon belied undeniable fear, and unlike her, he possessed nothing that could actually damage Hellbound.

    But even so, Tatyana finally accepted a reality she could no longer run away from.

    She believed everything he said.

 III-5: Coup de Grace

    A distance over fifty meters rapidly shrunk. Forty-five, thirty-five, then twenty until only a mere ten remained. And with each step that Edmond came closer to Hellbound, it looked more and more like he was rushing to his own death.

    It¡¯s fine. It was so obvious back then that I don¡¯t even register in what remains of his mind. Not a threat, not worthy of attention, so I¡¯ll be safe no matter how close I get!

    His approach was careless, loud, and only focused on speed. As expected, Hellbound¡¯s behavior did not change in the slightest as he maintained a slow, careful pace, likely fearing a sudden attack from Areadbhair now that Tatyana was out of sight. If he was a bit too hasty trying to find her, he could be exposed to a crippling counterattack.

    If his transformations are linked to his injuries, then that counter on its own might just do him in.

    Hellbound was at his most powerful, by a wide margin of difference. Even so, he was also by far at his weakest. The next attack he received would decide it all, and Edmond could make it happen.

    Five meters. Three meters.

    It¡¯s done¡ª!

    But it was not.

    There was no way it could be, not when against any expectations Edmond held, his assault became a complete failure. He had not missed, Hellbound had not shown resistance to anything new, nor had he struck back all of a sudden.

    Instead, he went for a powerful leap, nearly ten meters into the air despite his size, and landed around twenty-five away with a shrill cracking noise. That fanged skull¡¯s empty dark orbits¡­ now settled on him, aware of his presence.

    The only thing somehow more shocking was what appeared to be an actual expression, a sort of emotion in that alien body language. One that seemed to hint at greater surprise from his sudden action than what Edmond himself felt.

    ¡°Ooo¡­ rah¡­? Hoh¡­¡±

    A horrible parody of a voice, incomprehensible in nearly every way, but Edmond found a much-needed confirmation in it.

    Hellbound was confused, and Edmond was no longer. Instead, he cursed his arrogance to ever think that such a crucial thing was no longer in play.

    ¡­ Yes, it only makes sense. This guy is an absolute survivor. No matter how torn his mind is or what happens to his body, if there¡¯s anything that will always remain in him, it¡¯s that.

    Had he run with too much confidence? Was it something in his gaze, or maybe his opening motions? Perhaps the direction he chose to approach from, the range he waited to reach¡­

    ¡­ No, it honestly did not matter. If his survival instincts remained keen even in such a state, he may as well have noticed things that Edmond would never even think of. That was just who Hellbound was at his core, and what allowed him to prevail over so much.

    He hated himself for it, but Edmond could not help but admire such a thing. Though neither that nor anything else would change what came next, as Hellbound dug his claws into the ground and stood back strong.

    ¡°Eagh¡­ Ooo, eagh¡­¡±

    There was no way he actually knew Edmond¡¯s plan, but that did not matter. He simply would not allow him to get close ever again.

    An inescapable death from afar.

    ¡°¡ª!¡±

    The first crystal spike sprouted by his feet. Not nearly as massive as the one that had blocked his attempt to escape with Tatyana, but just as fast and there was no doubt about its sharpness.

    Edmond jumped aside frantically, barely dodging the attack he had already anticipated. A second and third spike went for him before he had even set foot back on the ground.

    Not only are they quick, but he¡¯s ready to aim on prediction too!

    Unable to avoid these new spikes, Edmond quickly swung his drawn shortsword to block the nearest one. His arms trembled from the impact, but they did not hurt much as the force instead drove him back. A desperate defense turned into an effective retreat.

    More will come now!

    The appearance of a new crystal spike was certain, right between his grounded legs this time. Now finding himself able to outrun the spike, confusion entered Edmond¡¯s thoughts.

    Did he mess up the timing? No, no way he would. Then¡­ Is it about distance?

    Amidst the barely missing minefield of purple crystal, Edmond looked back up toward Hellbound. He had been twenty-five meters away before, but after that hurried parry, he now stood around forty meters from him.

    He can attack anywhere he wants, but size and speed suffer the more distance there is between him and the target¡­ It¡¯s probably something like that.

    Which meant that as long as Edmond remained a certain distance away, he should be able to deal with the incoming spikes whether by dodging or blocking. But if he dared step closer¡­

    ¡­ It might be the end, and it just so happens that¡¯s what I need for anything to work out.

    A choice between success and safety¡­ No, between a slim chance and life itself. Those were the only options Hellbound would allow him, now that he had become a target.

    ¡°¡­ Hah¡­¡±

    Even so, a brief, almost voiceless laugh escaped Edmond¡¯s lips. Like white breath in the cold, curling his lips into a proud smirk.

    After all, despite the huge danger he was in, despite the injuries that piled up on any step he took forward, despite feeling whatever energy that kept him going slipping away by the second¡­ It all proved he was seen as a threat.

    Far from his own thoughts, or the words of an ally like Tatyana, this time it was an enemy¡¯s actions that told him he could do something. That measures had to be taken so he would not lead to the Unmasked¡¯s downfall, that if he did not fight back¡­

    ¡­ Edmond would be able to make a difference.

    Too little, too late. If you¡¯d killed me before, this would¡¯ve been over already¡­

    He approached once more, and the crystal spikes aimed for him with lethal speed and weight.

    Just as expected, and no easier to deal with for it. He dodged two, blocked one with his blade, but three of them grazed him and that was enough. Temple, flank and calf spilled warm blood, staining his clothes and even the path he ran across.

    ¡­ But now, you¡¯re done. No matter what you try now, I¡¯ll take it and do what I can to bring you down!

    His gray eyes went wide, clearer than ever before as the criminal¡¯s black orbits, empty as they might be, met them head-on. Not as an annoying bug, a mere bother at most, but as an equal enemy to never leave unchecked.

    Their distance from each other was now twenty meters. Hellbound probably could have retreated again if he wished, but increasing the space between them would simply cause the situation to reset. The pressure he could exert would diminish, and Edmond would start closing the gap once more.

    Instead, while just twenty meters could be volatile, Edmond still needed to be much closer to proceed. Hellbound remained safe, and more than that, he remained powerful.

    The spikes were relentless, more deadly in every way they could be, and Edmond felt his limit approaching. The prana strengthening he had undergone would wear off soon, and while he could likely reapply it, he would be dead before he finished casting the spell.

    Approaching further likely meant facing crystals he could not counter, staying at his current range was death on a timer, and retreat would not only be difficult, but also do away with progress he may be unable to achieve on subsequent attempts, with Hellbound having a much better read on his movements.

    No option was good, but he had to choose. Fast.

    Damn it, in that case¡­ I¡¯ll have to advance. Even if I¡¯m pierced worse, so long as I can still move, then I might just be able to¡­!

    Thinking as quickly as he could, Edmond stepped forward and was immediately overwhelmed.

    ¡°Tsk!¡±

    He gnashed his teeth, purple and red invading his view.

    Edmond swung his shortsword faster than he could ever remember, while his legs appeared to tear from his own rushing pace. He tried to use the sturdiness of the crystal to his advantage, bouncing off his blocks and parries to move faster and more unpredictably, but there was only so much that could do for him.

    A deeper gash was left on his shoulder, so dangerously close to his neck, while his waist was cut on both sides. Worst of all was still the slash at his thigh, compounding onto the pain of his broken femur and making him see pure white.

    He would not make it. That much was clear now.

    But before he could regret his decision, much of the purple crystal around him had disappeared, replaced by hot silver light fast on its track toward Hellbound.

    ¡°You come with me now!¡±

    The familiar voice rang painfully in his ears as he felt a sharp pressure around his torso, one that dragged him away right as he saw Hellbound rapidly jumping out of the silver light¡¯s path.

    The surroundings briefly became a blur until he fell on his side, back turned to something solid and rough.

    ¡°Ow!¡±

    It was not pleasant at all.

    ¡°Tough it out. I don¡¯t have time to let you down all knightly-like, so be a big boy for me here.¡± Tatyana reprimanded him with narrowed eyes looking to the side, beyond the lump of debris they now hid behind.

    ¡°You can move?¡± Edmond instantly regretted his stupid question, but the surprise was such it had come out before he knew better.

    ¡°Barely. Turns out you were right, the time to act was very obvious. To save your ass, that is.¡±

    Her look certainly had a tinge of relief to it, but that did not make it any less strict.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ Sorry for not thinking he would suddenly pay attention me, when until now I¡¯ve been less than a fly over his food.¡±

    ¡°So rude to imply I¡¯m his ¡®food¡¯, first of all. Second, what were you even trying to do!? You were no match for him before, and even I can¡¯t measure up now, so what¡¯s the matter!?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not so simple.¡± Edmond replied, warily pressing over his worse injuries as he refilled the prana empowering him. ¡°You¡¯ve seen it even better than I have, these wild transformations always come after he gets some nasty injuries. His power can compensate to an extent and probably stops things from getting worse on their own, but it doesn¡¯t heal him or anything. Which means¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ The next strong hit that gets him will be it. That¡¯s your idea?¡±

    Edmond nodded, feeling the spell slowly running its warmth across his body. His inefficiency was obvious, and the duration would definitely be less this time, but it was still enough to work with.

    ¡°There was an actual chance if I¡¯d gotten close enough, but even in that state his instincts have not worsened at all. You know the rest. So¡­ did that shot just now take up one of your stocks?¡±

    ¡°Sure did.¡± Tatyana¡¯s voice conveyed just about the same disappointment he felt. ¡°It was a complete sneak attack too, and he still dodged it. Even if you managed to make it past all that crystal, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯ll get away before you can do anything, so¡ª¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay! I get it! It¡¯s impossible, he won¡¯t ever be hit. Next time he transforms, those wings will let him fly too. It¡¯s just a matter of time before we¡¯re killed; whatever! You don¡¯t have to tell me all that!¡±

    Edmond turned away, just barely containing his voice to not be found out as he tried to look past the debris, toward Hellbound who may very well be about to find them. He could only catch a mere glimpse, however, before he was dragged back by his collar to meet Tatyana¡¯s eyes, both of them visible from so close-up despite the Dullahan mask.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t finished, twerp. Now, if you¡¯ll allow me to; do you have another plan? I lost one stock, I have up to two more, and we can both move. So tell me: How are we going to hit him?¡±

    Sharp eyes of the clearest turquoise color, which alongside her voice somehow showed the same confidence in him that she had only showed in herself.

    In a different situation, Edmond would have been left speechless. A pathetic, grinning mess. But now, he stopped at the grin alone.

    ¡°¡­ Yeah. There¡¯s something else we can do. It¡¯s risky, but¡­¡±

    Much to his disappointment, Tatyana¡¯s eyes went wide in disbelief as soon as he told her his plan.

    ¡°¡­ Then you¡¯ll be scorched to cinder!¡±

    ¡°I know, I know! It¡¯s because of that that I need you to¡­¡±

    One last plan to decide it all. Hellbound, or them.

    In less than ten seconds, only one side would prevail.

    <hr>

    Javier¡¯s patience was wearing thin, though that was using very generous terms. It was instinct that drove him mad, and also instinct that kept him from acting on that madness.

    The enemies were nowhere to be seen, but they were alive for sure. One of them had long since proven her ability to hurt him, and the other¡­ was still a mystery to him. He might as well have been a pebble, a non-issue that could barely even be considered an annoyance. But when he approached, Javier moved back before a sliver of thought crossed his fractured mind.

    Why had that been the case? What was it that made that pebble somehow different? How did it cause such a reaction in him? Questions were numerous, and even if his mind were to be whole again, they would likely still lack any answers. But despite lacking detail and clarity, there were truths he simply knew to be undeniable.

    That pebble¡­ No, that enemy held the ability to threaten him in some way. The instincts that had recovered another minuscule shard of his consciousness were not mistaken, and neither was his retreat.

    He would die. She would die. Both had to be killed, and nothing else mattered.

    His search came to an end not from his own action, but theirs. Before Javier took another step, he felt intense light and heat coming from his left. He turned with quickness unbecoming of his size and witnessed the massive, layered wall of flame that was suddenly erected.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Fiery waves pushed against each other, distorting air and ground alike with sheer heat that banished all surrounding darkness. A display that could be called beautiful as well as fearsome.

    But to Javier, such an inferno was nothing but a pleasant breeze, and the enemy knew that already. There was no way a warrior of her caliber expected her flames to suddenly hurt him again, which meant only one thing.

    A diversion. The most intense smokescreen one could ask for.

    He stood firm on the ground, allowing the searing storm to reach past him unimpeded. Without the slightest discomfort, Javier dedicated all his attention to finding the enemy within that bright conflagration.

    And find them he did. Amidst the fire that should have reduced anything aside from Javier himself to ash, he a particularly dark silhouette could be barely distinguished. It approached fast, soon revealing arms, legs, a head¡­ Traits that made it increasingly more familiar.

    The Dullahan armor the girl had worn, only that now there was no longsword or lance in its grip, but rather a considerably shorter blade. The shortsword wielded by the ineffectual boy.

    Though maybe it was no longer proper to belittle him like that, as the strategy he had employed was more than respectable. Making full use of such a dangerous cover through the Dullahan¡¯s protection, weaker from accumulated damage but far from gone. A sound plan, but still far from enough to reach Javier as he now was.

    The armored silhouette continued to approach, reaching past the eighteen-meter limit from around a minute ago until only fifteen meters separated them. Javier could have easily avoided him by just rushing away, but committing to a movement when he had no sight of the other enemy was unwise, exposing him to a predictive shot. Besides, while this was as close to him as the boy had ever gotten, it was also a range at which Javier was more powerful than he had ever seen.

    He could easily deal with him, while remaining aware and ready for whenever she appeared, by attacking.

    Spikes of purple crystal burst from the ground nigh-instantly, piercing the Dullahan and whatever was inside it without issue from three simultaneous directions.

    One down, Javier thought for a moment. But right before he started looking for the next enemy, something moved when it should not have. The shortsword in the Dullahan¡¯s grip.

    Not as if thrown in one last, desperate attempt to reach him, but rather rising without being followed by so much as the armor¡¯s hand. A different hand gripped tightly onto it, one belonging to a different silhouette that quickly became more apparent, as if the Dullahan¡¯s shadow had detached itself from it.

    The boy. Not wearing the armor anymore if that had ever been the case, he stepped onto it as a new foothold while a pair of insectile wings fluttered wildly by his back, keeping as much of the flames as they could at bay.

    But the fire was intense, there was no way they could deal with it all, and several parts of his body were clearly licked by the fiery storm. More clearly than that though, was the lack of concern he showed for such a thing.

    His eyes were wide and focused, ready to take the opening that Javier shuddered to have given.

    ¡°¡­ Then you¡¯ll be scorched to cinder!¡±

    ¡°I know, I know! It¡¯s because of that that I just need you to¡­¡±

    ¡­ lend me that sylph of yours, so it can blow the flames away while I sneak up behind Dullahan!

    Edmond leapt as powerfully as he could, given an extra boost to his air momentum by the fluttering elemental at his back.

    It was a tremendously fast movement, easily allowing him to soar above and past the newly appearing crystal spikes to turn the gap into less than ten meters. Still, it was not something that Hellbound could not avoid. Any moment now, the Unmasked would flex his four massive legs, and dash aside to render this effort fruitless¡­

    ¡­ Except he did not. Hellbound remained stationary, even as he saw the purple crystal miss Edmond. Just as planned.

    If you run away, Tatyana may just snipe you while you¡¯re unable to dodge. You¡¯ll have to kill me if you want to stay safe!

    Edmond¡¯s burns were still few and tame enough that he could ignore them, gripping his shortsword with both hands while quickly gathering prana around it. Now a mere five meters away, there was only one target in his mind as he ¡®flew¡¯ toward Hellbound¡¯s head.

    A head that as soon as the ground spikes stopped appearing, began to sprout three large, extra horns even faster, covering over half of the remaining distance between them.

    Even when backed into a corner like this, no matter how little time we give him to react or how torn his mind is, he can still respond accordingly!

    Yet again, Edmond could not help but admire the enemy before him. Anticipating seven out of ten setbacks and reacting to the three that he could not predict, his defense had no gaps. Edmond had no idea how he might compare to better-known criminals, but in terms of mindset, Hellbound was perfect as a combatant.

    And as much as Edmond¡¯s respect for him grew, his hatred swelled by twice that amount. If only a few things in his life had gone differently, he may have become a prodigious knight, a successful international agent, or even a superhero he would marvel at. Now, the qualities that could make him such were about to take Edmond¡¯s life instead.

    He knew from the start that he could not match Hellbound directly, warranting a layered plan to succeed at every step in order to win. But an unexpected element had been suddenly thrown in, rendering the plan itself faulty from the start.

    The result should have been obvious, one that Edmond knew was possible from the very beginning. Still, it was that very concept, to know that he would either succeed or die within three meters¡­

    If you can react to three unexpected threats¡­

    ¡­ that made such a result so easy to defy.

    ¡­ then I can deal with at least one!

    Edmond¡¯s body turned and twisted, driving strong momentum into his waist and shoulders as he swung the unassuming shortsword toward the closest horn, allowing the remaining two to slip past him.

    The prana-charged blade slid on the crystal with a shrill noise, briefly causing sparks to appear as new gashes appeared on his cheek and knee. They were shallow, and Edmond found his feet landing on Hellbound¡¯s massive skull right after.

    You¡¯re done!

    As the shortsword clashed and broke against the purple crystal, the barely contained prana finally exploded. More than Edmond had ever found fit to use, with such density he would never be able to shoot it fast enough, let alone preserve its integrity if shot as a projectile. But from such a close range, none of that mattered anymore.

    Orange light blasted forth, washing over the crystal body alongside the weakening storm of flame. And within one single second, the powerful spell disappeared into particles as the bright blaze died down.

    Leaving nothing but a thirty-centimeter-long, ten-centimeter-deep crack in Hellbound¡¯s skull.

    <hr>

    The wound he received was of no consequence, but Javier remained just as panicked as before.

    The reason for his survival was obvious. Regarding his most recent transformation, while relatively little had gone to improve his defense, that was only when it came to the girl and her Crown. He had still received two attacks from the boy before being nearly killed by her, and managed to acquire resistance to his spells henceforth.

    The strength difference between them was clear, and such an attack would not even come close to taking him out if he was in good condition, even without the chance to adapt to it. But as injured as he was now, that power had probably saved Javier¡¯s life.

    The victor had been decided by their unique abilities, not their skill. This time, as brief as it may have been, the boy had proven himself a terrifying enemy and even surpassed Javier as a survivor.

    He noticed the exhausted body falling from his head, the wings on his back having perished from the heat and exertion. There was nothing the boy could now do to prevent his fall, and eventual death from the crystal spikes.

    But Javier refused such an ending.

    He may have been an enemy, but he was also a survivor worthy of respect, who despite his weakness had momentarily outdone him and filled his very soul with dread. He deserved death by Javier¡¯s own hand, and he would deliver¡­

    ¡­ would have delivered. He wanted to, but his body did not move as he wished. His hand, his arm; both of them refused to budge, kept in place by¡­ a strange, gray material.

    It was rubbery, barely elastic, sticky and yet so solid, scattered in splash-like blankets from his claws by the ground till halfway up his forelimbs. When had such a thing been set up? When the spell¡¯s blast momentarily blinded him? He could not hope to claw the boy to death like this.

    ¡­ He could not move. And before the two of them, over fifty meters away and yet so visible even before he turned his head, a singularly brilliant source of light shone.

    The girl, with her mighty lance held high as deep turquoise eyes focused with the intensity of a hunter¡¯s.

    He had to avoid that. If there was anything Javier could not afford to be hit by, it was the Crown. This was the moment he had remained still for, so he could be ready to respond in whichever way was necessary.

    But now he was stuck still. Were he to have ten seconds more, or even as few as three, he could have probably broken free of the unknown substance, or at least peeled it off the rock-hard ground regardless of its adhesive properties.

    Without such time though, the gray gunk would pin him down without fail.

    For a single moment, that ugly, unassuming thing was stronger than him.

    <hr>

    Edmond fell fast, devoid of strength.

    He knew from the start that all his attacks were probably useless against Hellbound; brute force was quite lacking in his arsenal. But he only needed the Unmasked to believe it was not to distract him from his gamble, one that sacrificed every single containment marble currently in his possession.

    Before throwing them, and even before jumping, he knew the natural conclusion of his plan. In the best-case scenario, succeeding on every step and somehow managing a miraculous twist during his fall, Edmond would still have his spine broken by the crystal spikes on the ground. There was a minuscule chance he might survive, but at the cost of his ability to move normally, if at all.

    He refused to think beyond that. He was a coward, and such a future still scared him.

    But as he glanced at both sides during his descent; toward the desperately trapped Hellbound, and then a Tatyana surging with overwhelming power, he realized.

    For victory here, that¡¯s such a cheap price.

    Tatyana dashed forward, blowing away the ground and debris around her as she became a silver meteor. Even as Hellbound continued his attempts to escape, desperation now obvious in his every move, he was able to send another wave of purple spikes into her path.

    She dodged the vast majority of them, easily reading through his frantic intentions. Their size, speed and even number increased the more she approached, so a few managed to eventually reach her.

    But the two purple spikes shattered immediately as they blocked Tatyana¡¯s front, spreading shards of crystal, as well as metal around her. Continuing her advance without hesitation, she dropped Blutgang¡¯s hilt and what remained of its blade, the eidolon finally reaching its limit after assisting her one last time.

    She would reach Hellbound for sure. For the one second that remained, he could not stop or even delay her. And yet, as she jumped and passed by the falling Edmond, she still slowed down through what could be nothing but her own will.

    Her eyes, which had focused on nothing but the target up to now, suddenly toward Edmond¡¯s own. As if it had been her plan all along, a condition she would not dare hit Hellbound before meeting.

    You¡¯ve got to be kidding me¡­

    With more time at his disposal, Edmond might have laughed. Of course Tatyana had to go ahead and do away with his ¡®best-case scenario¡¯, bringing forth a new one all on her own.

    Before a single extra thought crossed his mind, Edmond reached out for Areadbhair¡¯s handle and gripped it as tightly as he could, his hand partly overlapping with Tatyana¡¯s own.

    He felt his body being forcefully dragged back up, then forward through the air to meet Hellbound¡¯s crystal skull once more, which had grown a fourth, final, largest horn likely from Tatyana¡¯s minuscule delay.

    To think the Unmasked could still make use of such a small difference in time¡­ But that was all he could manage.

    Tatyana¡¯s arm rushed forward and so did Edmond¡¯s, thrusting the lance of brilliant silver at the same time as prana from both of them swirled together, entering the Crown without restraint.

    Lance and horn clashed head on, and the latter shattered away under the onslaught of rippling silver and orange light. In an instant, Hellbound¡¯s giant body was engulfed by the peerless radiance.

    Far from finished, the shining prana continued to travel forward, blindingly fast and destructive as it gouged apart the earth and pierced a massive hole in the crater¡¯s wall.

    An instant like an eon. After it, only the wind blowing dared defy the resulting silence and calm.

    Until being joined by the fall of two knight cadets.

    ¡°Ow!¡±

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    Edmond and Tatyana hit the ground roughly, steadily losing their grip on Areadbhair right after. Not through any fault of their own, but rather because of its gradual vanishing as Tatyana likely lost the strength to maintain its form.

    As they currently were, however, it was only a matter of time before they let go. Sprawled with their backs to the floor, they panted from an exhaustion so intense that it numbed otherwise unbearable pain.

    If Hellbound could stand back up from that attack¡­ it would no longer be a battle, but merely a formality. Victory was decided already, for them if he had gone down, and for him if that was not the case.

    But somehow, Edmond was quite confident they had done it. Or was it merely the relaxation from knowing that everything, truly all they could manage, had been done?

    Whatever¡­ Doesn¡¯t matter as much as¡­

    ¡°Can you¡­ please get off?¡±

    If there was anything that still bothered him, more out of awkwardness than physical discomfort, was Tatyana¡¯s head which now rested on his upper arm.

    ¡°Fuck no¡­ I told you¡­ Human pillow over ground pillow any day¡­ I hard lucked out falling here, so just leave me be for a bit longer¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    He did not have it in him to argue back, and honestly, he somewhat enjoyed it despite some minor worries about circulation.

    ¡°That was an insane stunt.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I am aware.¡±

    ¡°Like, the fact you even thought of something like that is very concerning.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I guess...¡±

    ¡°¡­ You do have a cool side in the end, is what I¡¯m going for.¡±

    There we go.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what it sounds like. Why not just say it, eh~?¡±

    Edmond quickly realized he had overrated how numb he was, as soon as he felt Tatyana¡¯s painful pinch on his thigh.

    ¡°Ow¡­ Doing that when I can barely move is so messed up...¡±

    ¡°Right back at you. Think a pinch alone is enough for me to get even?¡±

    He laughed. She laughed. It mattered so little that such little movement still intensified their discomfort for a moment.

    ¡°So, what about your familiars? I want to think you can just summon them again, but since they went down in the battle itself¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re on the right track.¡± Tatyana explained. ¡°It¡¯s different if I myself make them dissipate, but two of them were just destroyed by the crystals, and the third was forced to its limits as it burned away.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be.¡± He felt her barely shrug at his arm. ¡°Even now, I can¡¯t think of anything else we could¡¯ve gone for. We wouldn¡¯t have survived without sacrifices, and somehow neither of us went down.¡±

    Edmond did not know how to respond. If forced to answer, he was definitely glad that Tatyana and himself had made it, but eidolons and elementals still had a primitive ego even if they did not fully qualify as ¡®beings¡¯. There was no way he could be fully comfortable with their sacrifice.

    Despite logically knowing that it had been absolutely necessary, Edmond found himself looking at the sky wistfully. He finally realized how dark it had gotten, which somehow made the various colors in the air stand out more.

    Colors from the concentrated prana in the crater¡­ and something else. Something very important.

    ¡°¡­ There¡¯s still something left to do.¡±

    They were on time. The rift still needed a few more minutes to form.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Tatyana replied near-instantly. ¡°I can take care of that now, so you go check on Hellbound.¡±

    ¡°¡­? You don¡¯t think he¡­?¡±

    He asked, feeling her head gradually lifting from his arm as she sat back up.

    ¡°We¡¯d be dead if he could still get back up, but we should still confirm if he¡¯s dead or just down for the count.¡±

    Edmond gulped, trying his best to force back the discomfort welling up. Starting to stand back up, he spoke.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any more marbles.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s alright.¡± Tatyana waited a few more seconds, just sitting. ¡°I can still restrain him in some other ways if he¡¯s out cold, but I want to know if I have to. I¡¯m not exactly itching to cast any more spells, you know?¡± Finally, she rose to her feet, her gaze fully focused on the swirling mass of countless colors.

    ¡°¡­ Got it.¡± Edmond breathed in deep, then followed suit.

    Priorities. He was evil and caused so much harm. There was no other way¡­

    He told himself again and again in his mind. Doubts remained for sure, but he could do as requested. Barely seeing the silver prana glow again out the corner of his eye, he walked over to the hole in the crater¡¯s wall.

    Now mostly devoid of any prana enhancements, Edmond became more conscious of each and every step he took. Of course, at least when it came to his broken femur, some localized strengthening was necessary and made things slightly more bearable, but his pace was undeniably laborious and painful.

    He expected it from the start, but it was still very annoying to need a rest, no matter how brief, after only a few steps. He resumed his walk as soon as possible, now close enough to truly recognize the size of the recently formed tunnel.

    That was all Edmond could distinguish, as way before he even stepped into the entrance, something very strange fell and¡­ stood in his way.

    Not nearly as massive as Hellbound¡¯s recent form, but still heavy enough for Edmond to feel ripples on the ground. Not much dust arose from the impact, allowing him to make out its three and a half meters in height and mostly humanoid structure. Describing it was easy enough, but finding a term that fully fit it? Not so much.

    It was entirely made of some kind of metal, mostly in plates, but also in mesh at several key areas. Its color was primarily black, with its many parts sectioned like a well-built armor. However, the blue light filling its ¡®eyes¡¯ and sparse linings on its limbs, coupled with the strangely uniform connections of its many pieces, brought something much more robot-like to mind.

    It was also noticeably damaged, with cracks running across its otherwise lustrous surface, half-melted plates on its right arm and pieces broken off its protruding shoulders and knees.

    There was still so much to observe about the strange figure, but the sudden increase in the brightness of its eyes took over all of Edmond¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Back off. You¡¯re done here.¡±

    The voice echoed loudly, with a very mechanical tint to it. Rather than something purely artificial, however, it was like a person speaking into a microphone. There was clearly a human voice at its core.

    ¡­ One that Edmond felt he might have heard before, even if just once.

    ¡°Hey, there¡¯s no need to be so aggressive. You really think he¡¯s looking for another fight?¡±

    So much had been his surprise at seeing the mysterious ¡®mech¡¯, that he only noticed the person sitting on one of its broken shoulders once they spoke.

    A person as hurt as the machine was damaged¡­ and with a much more recognizable voice.

    What¡­ Just what are they doing here!?

    Edmond stepped back and turned to Tatyana, just in time to see a brilliant silver spell being released from her hand.

    A condensed flash, shifting into a longer and sharper form as it traveled like lightning in reverse toward the forming rift, before coming to an absolute stop.

    It had not hit its target or even come particularly close to it, but was simply stuck in a shell of uniquely dense prana. Standing out for its single, distinct crimson color and the presence of another figure within it, standing by the crater¡¯s edge.

    At first, Tatyana¡¯s spell struggled and rampaged in the red grasp, but quickly settled down as it grew weaker, smaller¡­ then finally fizzled away. All within a single second.

    Tatyana¡¯s expression showed maybe the rawest confusion a person could muster.

    ¡°Just who¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s better if you don¡¯t try again. Otherwise, we¡¯ll have to strike back.¡±

    She could not finish the first of probably many questions before another voice interrupted her. An echo very different from that of the machine, but with a similarly familiar essence to it, traveling between her and Edmond as wind blew in its wake.

    Upon turning, they saw perhaps the most abnormal arrival yet. A humanoid figure of normal size, clad in armor to an even greater extent than Tatyana was in her Dullahan. A bluish armor radiating power very similar to Hellbound¡¯s own and possessing a truly beautiful luster, resembling minerals but in a way closer to marble than to the purple crystals.

    And yet, all that paled in comparison to the shock coming from beyond, caused by an amply spread pair of cyan-colored wings, layering many ¡®feathers¡¯ of half-solid, half-luminous prana. Prana which, despite their many obvious differences, only resembled one other.

    That of Tatyana¡¯s Areadbhair.

    How could it¡­? No, wait, if it¡¯s¡­

    Four people. Only one he had seen the face of, but among them there were three voices he had definitely heard before.

    And if those three were who he thought¡­ Then the fourth person¡¯s identity was an obvious answer.

    One he knew already, but it may as well have been in some alien language. Something he could never hope to pronounce, even as that fourth figure descended from the crater¡¯s edge¡­ and approached until he could no longer escape from the truth.

    ¡°Wild night, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯ve never seen you looking worse, Mondi.¡±

    Hilda.

    Hildegard Tirpitz, alongside her team, had saved the rift from assured dismantling.