Desperate Escape and Shifting Alliances

“The Tidal Mirror Hall is harboring outsiders!”

“The unscrupulous city nobles have received their just punishment!”

“Exactly! Consorting with outsiders and witches, they deserved to die!!!”

“Charge in! Kill all the survivors!!!”

Wielding knives, guns, and clubs, the furious crowd streamed into the grand hall in droves, surging up the second-floor corridor. The majority were not native to the upper city; instead, they were common folk, gang members, and street peddlers from Vero’s eastern and western districts, even refugees from the lower city slums. Having broken through countless barricades to reach this point, their sole aim was to seize this chance for vengeance against the ‘upper crust.’

Such widespread unrest was a rarity; it was clear some faction had been secretly inciting them, and coupled with the empire’s politically correct stance on witch hunts, these individuals found the audacity to storm this place.

Saranya lay prone in the pooling blood, shielding her master beneath her with her arms and legs. Feigning death, they evaded a surging wave of furious citizens.

She tore a ribbon from her gown and secured Kaelan to her chest. Bearing their combined weight, she painstakingly crawled forward through the corridor.

“Master… don’t sleep, hold on…”

Saranya gently jostled her master in her arms. She remained uncertain of the exact circumstances, only knowing Kaelan had engaged the dryad Lenix in combat and had not emerged unscathed, for her master’s wounds were far graver than her own.

The young witch’s body was impaled with a multitude of branches and vines; a tangled mass of roots had pierced her flesh in one place, only to emerge from another, intertwining grotesquely. This created a myriad of gruesome lacerations. With foreign matter lodged deep within, these wounds defied all attempts at cleansing or bandaging, rendering even common healing magic utterly ineffectual.

“Saranya…”

Kaelan’s eyes fluttered open, her consciousness wavering, as she faintly murmured Saranya’s name.

A pang of sorrow flickered in Saranya’s eyes. She reached out a fingertip to gently wipe away the bloody tears streaking from Kaelan’s eyes, then lowered her head and pressed a soft kiss to Kaelan’s pale forehead:

“Kaelan… I’ll get you out of here…”

Kaelan had pushed herself far beyond her limits. The severe magical overload had caused fine trickles of blood to seep from her eyes, nose, and ear canals. Her muscles were completely drained of strength, leaving her body utterly limp; she simply hung from Saranya’s chest, much like a joey in its mother’s pouch.

“Perhaps save your tender moments for when you’re safely outside, you two.”

“Who—?!”

A sudden, chilling breeze swept over them, before a vast rectangular shadow swiftly fell over Saranya and Kaelan. Saranya had no time to react; her vision abruptly plunged into darkness, as a burlap sack was thrown over her. Moments later, hands lifted her limbs, depositing both her and Kaelan onto a hard, unyielding surface.

“From this moment forward, you and your master are celebrated heroes. You have unveiled the wicked machinations of the Tidal Mirror Hall, and were almost silenced by malevolent witches and foreign spellcasters. It was only thanks to the benevolent citizens of Vero City that your lives were spared. You are now all comrades in righteousness, do you comprehend?”

“Na… Nazareth?!”

It seemed unequivocally clear that the Shadowscale Gang was behind the incitement of the public to storm the Tidal Mirror Hall. With bloodshed having already erupted, they no longer had any reason for restraint.

“Answer me! From now on, you will adhere strictly to my version of events. Fail to do so, and both you and your master will meet your end! Do you understand, or do you not?!”

“Understand, understand!”

A small slit was pulled open in the burlap. Through the narrow opening, Saranya glimpsed Nazareth’s unpleasant countenance.

“Brother Naz, why did you come yourself…?”

“…”

To Saranya’s knowledge, the Shadowscale Gang excelled in covert intelligence, rarely engaging in direct factional conflicts. As the notorious ‘snakehead’ of the Shadowscale Gang, Nazareth was known to guard his reputation fiercely; a mere sighting of him in public was typically newsworthy. His unexpected appearance here could only imply two possibilities:

Firstly, the Shadowscale Gang genuinely valued her as an ally, or perhaps, deemed her utility sufficiently high, thus, Nazareth had risked his own person to extricate her.

Secondly, the operation had gone awry, the fundamental reason being that the Tidesong Sisterhood had learned of their plans beforehand and had even ‘doxxed’ both her and Kaelan. The vast majority of this intelligence could only have originated from a leak within the Shadowscale Gang. Such a blunder was a blatant slap in the face to the entire gang and Nazareth himself.

Nazareth was clearly in a foul mood and had no patience for idle chatter. He turned his head, issuing terse commands to his subordinates in a low, gravelly tone:

“Take them. Instruct Leif to position the carriage at the rear alley entrance. They are to escort both injured individuals and the captive back to the manor. I will oversee the cleanup here.”

Several figures in grey robes moved at his command. Beneath Saranya, the ‘clack-clack’ of wheels began to resonate, and the corridors on either side of them began to recede. Clutching Kaelan close, she felt the lingering effects of adrenaline slowly dissipate, as the throbbing pain in her abdomen returned with renewed intensity.

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts—”

She curled onto her side, one hand instinctively clutching the edge of the stretcher.

Only moments before, she had managed to wriggle and crawl across the floor, but now, the mere thought of moving herself was an impossibility.

Her vision blurred past the corridor’s chandeliers, the grand hall’s ceiling, and the doorframe of the building’s rear exit, culminating in an arc of the setting sun’s golden light.

The soft, orange sunlight gently bathed her cheek, imparting a subtle warmth.

“Mama!!!”

“Eh… Eh?!”

Saranya flinched in surprise, as Vireta, accompanied by several armed young women, rushed to her sides. They took the stretcher from the grey-robed figures and, amidst a torrent of tears and sniffles, began to lift her into the carriage.

“Waaah… Mama, why are you in such a dreadful state—”

“Sh-shut up! Cough cough… Your mama here… isn’t dead yet…!”

It felt as if they were conducting a funeral procession.

And so, she and Kaelan were carefully lifted into the carriage, escorted home by Vireta and several female knights of the Night Lily.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

Saranya turned her head at the sound, to see Aivy and Phillo seated by the window, their spirits noticeably subdued. Kneeling beside them was an outsider girl with a sack pulled over her head. This was, presumably, the Tidesong Sister who had impersonated Lenix; the imposter was now their captive.

“What’s the matter… Aivy, at least we managed to capture one…”

Saranya forced a smile, intending to offer a word of encouragement. Yet, fatefully, she was abruptly reminded of the incident in the arena where Aivy had nearly killed her. Aivy’s light magic had, coincidentally, struck her in the abdomen then too, the wound’s location eerily similar…

A wave of acute awkwardness washed over her, her strained smile growing even more rigid.

“Indeed.”

Aivy returned her smile, nodding to the heavily scarred Saranya with eyes full of profound sympathy. Subsequently, the divine spellcaster’s gaze fell upon Kaelan, her expression shifting, gradually growing grim. Beside her, Phillo wore an identical somber look. It appeared both had developed a palpable sense of apprehension towards Kaelan.

‘Well… that’s understandable,’ Saranya mused. ‘They must have witnessed Kaelan’s frenzied massacre in the Tidal Mirror Hall. Moving forward, Kaelan’s relationship with them is likely to suffer.’

The carriage was enveloped by a cacophony of human voices. Only when it finally rounded to the main entrance of the Tidal Mirror Hall did Saranya peer through the window to see the throngs of people gathered outside.

The Tidesong Sisterhood’s stronghold, already ravaged by Kaelan’s massacre, had now been further overrun and desecrated by the furious populace. Presumably, the Sisterhood members within had long since retreated with Lenix. As for the now-empty Tidal Mirror Hall, its fate at the hands of the Vero City Committee remained uncertain.

And Lenix—Saranya wondered what clandestine organization the dryad had allied herself with, or where she might be hiding. These were all questions Saranya intended to discuss thoroughly with her esteemed Mr. Dump at Vero Free City University.

For the moment, however, she felt no urgency to ponder such matters.

Saranya turned her head, gently caressing Kaelan’s sleeping face, her fingers idly tracing the contours of Kaelan’s hand beneath her own.

Until her master fully recovered, her sole desire was to remain steadfastly by her side.