The Aftermath and a New Alliance

Inside the Raven Guild’s Iron Anvil branch meeting room.

Compared to its previous state, a semblance of life had finally returned to the space.

Though the thick oak doors remained firmly shut, the interior dust had been meticulously swept away, and a fire now crackled in the hearth, dispelling both the early winter chill and the musty dampness of prolonged closure.

Wrapped in her cloak, Rachel sat upon a high-backed chair, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the rough grain of the wooden armrest.

Ruby, meanwhile, stood like a frigid statue, her back against the wall beside the fireplace, her amber eyes meticulously scanning the empty antechamber, maintaining her customary vigilance.

“It’s finally over.”

Ruby’s voice broke the silence, carrying a rare hint of relief.

“Once Barton regains consciousness, we can ascertain the full story.”

Rachel did not immediately respond.

Her head was bowed slightly, her silver-grey hair falling forward to obscure part of her profile, revealing only her tightly furrowed brow.

The flickering firelight from the hearth cast dancing shadows across her face.

“What troubles you?”

Ruby, keenly sensing Rachel’s unusual demeanor, moved away from the wall and approached her.

“The cloaked figure is dead, the missing Barton has been found, and the Cult’s machinations in Iron Anvil will undoubtedly be thwarted.”

“Yet, my lady, you still appear displeased; is there something that weighs on your mind?”

Rachel slowly lifted her head, her gaze distant and unfocused, seemingly not directed at Ruby.

“Weighing on my mind… you ask?”

Rachel murmured, her eyes fixed on the dancing flames in the hearth.

She paused for a moment before looking up at Ruby.

“That cloaked figure… Ruby, what did you make of his final moments?”

Ruby’s brow furrowed slightly as she recalled the cloaked figure’s final, frantic, and desperate lunge outside the wooden house.

“A complete madman.”

Ruby’s assessment was succinct.

“He had utterly lost his sanity and all instinct for self-preservation.”

“This was highly unusual, making him seem like an entirely different person from the calm, enigmatic opponent who had even commanded monsters just last night.”

“What do you believe caused this transformation?” Rachel pressed.

Ruby fell silent for a moment, a cold glint flickering in her amber eyes.

“Naiya.”

She uttered the name without hesitation.

“The power that erupted from Naiya at that moment was cold, wild, and imbued with a unique, oppressive aura.”

“The giant wolf, upon contact with that force, instantly lost its will to fight, as if its very spine had been extracted.”

“The cloaked figure, being closer to Naiya’s eruption point, would have endured an even greater impact.”

“His mind could have been utterly shattered, driving him into madness… this is not an impossibility.”

As she spoke, Ruby met Rachel’s gaze directly, her tone turning stern and unwavering.

“Lady Rachel, I must reiterate my stance.”

“That young girl—Naiya—is shrouded in many mysteries and is exceedingly dangerous.”

“Her power’s origin is unknown, its nature bizarre, and it appears uncontrollable; it might even be connected to the Cult.”

“Keeping such an individual by your side is akin to cradling an alchemical bomb poised to detonate at any moment.”

“You must carefully consider how to deal with her.”

Rachel listened in silence, the rhythm of her fingers tapping on the armrest growing slow and heavy.

She offered no refutation to Ruby, yet her furrowed brow remained unbroken, and complex thoughts churned in the depths of her eyes, as if she were weighing a profound decision.

Just then, the wooden door leading to the inner room was pushed open.

Siena emerged, a hint of weariness on her face, but more profoundly, a sense of immense relief.

Spotting Rachel and Ruby from a distance, she immediately quickened her pace.

“My Lady.”

Siena’s voice was considerably softer than before.

“Barton has awakened.”

“Though still very weak and bearing numerous wounds, mercifully, he has sustained no life-threatening internal injuries.”

“The physician administered some medicine, and his spirits are now stable enough for him to speak.”

“He wishes to personally thank you for saving his life, and… he wants to recount the events of these past few days.

I believe you will find his story of interest.”

“If it pleases you both now, please follow me.”

Rachel and Ruby exchanged a glance, then promptly rose and followed Siena into the inner room.

The room was small, yet tidily kept.

Barton lay propped against the headboard, covered by a thick woolen blanket.

His face was ashen, like faded parchment, his eyes sunken, and his lips cracked.

His once well-groomed brown hair now clung haphazardly to his sweat-dampened forehead.

His deep brown eyes, though still bloodshot, now held the clear, relaxed gaze of one who had narrowly escaped death.

Upon seeing Rachel and Ruby enter, he struggled to sit upright, only for Siena to gently press down on his shoulder.

“Barton, don’t move.

Just speak from there.”

“Lady Lockwood… and this lady…”

Barton’s gaze fell on Ruby, a question in his eyes.

“Ruby,” Rachel introduced succinctly.

“Lady Ruby…”

Barton’s voice was hoarse and weak, yet he strove to keep it clear.

“I am truly… profoundly grateful for your life-saving grace…” He paused, catching his breath, a look of lingering terror rising in his eyes.

“I had thought, at the time, that my death was certain…”

“We were merely fortunate, or perhaps, Master Barton, your luck simply held,” Rachel’s tone was gentle, yet carried an undeniable directive.

“However, the most pressing matter now concerns the cloaked figure.”

“Master Barton, could you tell us what you experienced during your disappearance?

And who, precisely, was that cloaked figure?”

At the mention of the cloaked figure, Barton’s body visibly trembled, his eyes filling with both terror and hatred.

He took several deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm his tumultuous emotions.

“Of course… after all, that was my intention from the start.”

“The events unfolded shortly after I dispatched my report to headquarters.”

“While it would take some time for headquarters personnel to reach Iron Anvil, the anomalies within the Guild would not cease, and I could not simply wait for death.”

“Therefore, before their arrival, I resolved to take action, hoping to uncover the mastermind behind it all.”

As Barton spoke, he was suddenly seized by a violent fit of coughing.

Siena promptly offered him a cup of water to soothe his throat.

“I imagine you already know that all the missing miners shared a commonality: they had all come into contact with black crystals.

Furthermore, the abnormalities within the Guild only began after we acquired that particular black crystal.

Thus, I deduced that the true objective of this series of events’ orchestrator might actually be to locate these black crystals.”

“Based on this conjecture, I set a trap.”

“I gathered all the Guild’s goods into the warehouse, then led my men to set an ambush outside it.

As it turned out, my conjecture was not mistaken.”

“That night, he indeed appeared in the warehouse—the cloaked figure wearing a black mask.

We successfully surrounded him, ensnaring him in our trap, but…”

As Barton spoke, his eyes dimmed.

“The cloaked figure’s prowess far exceeded my expectations.

Though my men had the advantage in numbers and even managed to wound him, he still successfully broke through our encirclement and escaped through the warehouse’s back door.”

“Of course, I would not let this opportunity slip, so I immediately led my men in pursuit.”

‘So that was it,’ Rachel mused, nodding, as she recalled the bloodstains previously found on the warehouse floor.

“We chased him out of the mining area, reaching the vicinity of the barren forest at its edge.

The cloaked figure’s speed gradually slowed, and I assumed he was faltering, but I never imagined…”

At this point, Barton suddenly squeezed his eyes shut, as if unwilling to recall the hellish scene.

“A monstrous, colossal wolf-like creature burst forth from the darkness, charging towards us like a mountain, utterly unstoppable.”

“The men I brought were no match for that beast; they were swiftly scattered and torn apart one by one, becoming its sustenance…”

Barton’s voice choked, and for a moment, he could not continue speaking.

Tears streamed down his gaunt cheeks.

A heavy silence descended upon the room.

Siena tightly clasped Barton’s cold hand, offering silent support.

It was a long while before Barton managed to compose himself, his voice now barely a whisper.

“In the end, only I remained alive.

I was taken hostage by the cloaked figure and forced into the wooden house deep within the barren forest, where I stayed until your discovery allowed me to see the light of day once more.”

“The cloaked figure left only you alive?”

Ruby’s cold voice cut through the air, sharp as a tempered blade.

Perhaps realizing the bluntness of the question, Rachel quickly added an amendment.

“What she means is, did the cloaked figure spare you because he sought something from you?”

“Your guess is correct, my lady.”

Barton nodded.

“The cloaked figure wanted to know the whereabouts of the black crystal that had been sold to the Guild.

He employed many methods—torture, coercion, even enticement—but of course, I revealed nothing.”

As he spoke, a bitter smile touched Barton’s lips.

“I could sense that the cloaked figure’s patience with me was rapidly dwindling.

Had you not arrived in time, my lady, I fear I would have been silenced soon enough…”

“Did the cloaked figure reveal any information during his interrogation?” Rachel pressed.

“Perhaps regarding those black crystals?”

“Now that you mention it… he did seem to allude to something.”

Barton struggled to recall, speaking in halting fragments.

“According to the cloaked figure, those black crystals are called ‘Dragon Stones,’ and they are extremely important to him.

Beyond that, however, I am not entirely clear…”

As Barton spoke, his voice grew progressively weaker; his spirit was clearly failing, and his body began to sway slightly.

“Enough, Barton.

Rest now.”

Siena immediately cut him off, her tone firm and unyielding.

“The physician said what you need most now is complete rest.

Leave the remaining matters to us.”

Barton attempted to speak further, but his extreme weakness allowed him only a feeble nod before he wearily closed his eyes.

Seeing this, Rachel and Ruby signaled to Siena, and the three of them quietly withdrew from the room.

“He needs time to recover, both mentally and physically.”

Siena closed the door, exhaling a long sigh, her face etched with deep concern.

“Those experiences… they were truly horrific.”

“That he survived at all is a miracle,” Rachel acknowledged, understanding in her voice.

Siena escorted Rachel and Ruby to the Guild’s main entrance.

The cold wind of the early winter evening immediately swirled around them.

“Lady Lockwood.”

Siena halted, turning to Rachel and performing a solemn bow, her keen grey eyes now brimming with sincere gratitude.

“Please allow me to express my thanks once more to you and Lady Ruby.”

“Not only for rescuing Barton… but also because, without your intervention last night and your assistance today, we likely would not have even found Barton’s whereabouts, let alone… dealt with that cloaked figure and the monster.”

She paused, a hint of apology in her tone.

“My earlier caution towards you was indeed impolite.”

“Barton… he is not merely my colleague, but a friend of many years.”

“To see him rescued, I…”

Her voice caught, but then firmed with resolve.

“This debt of gratitude, Barton and I, along with the Raven Guild’s Iron Anvil branch, will forever hold in our hearts.”

“Should you ever require anything in the future, my lady, within the Guild’s capabilities, we will undoubtedly offer our full assistance!

This was also Barton’s repeated instruction to me when he was conscious.”

Rachel gave a slight nod, accepting the pledge.

“Madam Siena, you overstate the matter.

Opposing the Cult is simply our duty.”

Siena nodded, her gaze falling to the pocket of Rachel’s cloak.

“There is one more matter, my lady, concerning the ‘Dragon Stone’ in your possession… Barton’s intention, and indeed headquarters’ intention, is to retrieve it.”

“This item is far too dangerous to remain with you.

The Guild hopes to consolidate it for more in-depth research and secure containment, perhaps to uncover further information about the Cult.”

Rachel’s face betrayed no surprise as she calmly responded.

“I understand.

This item is indeed peculiar.

However…”

She shifted her tone.

“I still have a few things I need to verify with its aid; it won’t take long.”

“Tomorrow morning, I will have my maid personally deliver it to the Guild for its return.

Will that arrangement suffice?”

Although Siena was somewhat puzzled as to what Rachel needed to verify, Rachel’s candid demeanor and clear return timeframe made it difficult for her to refuse.

“Of course, my lady.

We appreciate your trouble.”

“Furthermore,”

Rachel continued, seizing the opportunity,

“Madam Siena, my territory has recently encountered some… financial difficulties.”

“Coupled with the impending Grand Tour, one might say it’s adding frost to snow.”

“I wonder if your esteemed Guild would be amenable to… ah… offering some opportunities for cooperation?”

Rachel’s words were carefully indirect, but Siena immediately understood her meaning, nodding vigorously and enthusiastically.

“My lady, rest assured!

You are Barton’s benefactor, and naturally, a friend of the Guild!”

“Regarding cooperation, once matters here in Iron Anvil are completely stabilized, Barton and I will prioritize your needs!

We can discuss the specific details at that time.”

“Many thanks, then.” Rachel offered a faint smile.

She was about to turn and leave, but suddenly halted, as if something had just occurred to her.

“Oh, and there’s one small favor I need your help with…”

“Name it.”

“Actually, before returning, I wish to purchase some clean clothes.

After all, you see…”

Rachel gestured to herself; due to the exertions of the past few days, her clothes were stained with considerable dust and the scent of blood.

“Madam Siena is familiar with the town; do you know of any suitable shops?”

Siena paused, clearly surprised by Rachel’s sudden request, but then her expression softened with understanding.

“At this hour… there should still be a few ready-to-wear shops open in the town center market, though their stock might be limited.

Would you like me to send someone to guide you?”

“No need to trouble yourself,” Rachel waved a hand.

“We’ll go ourselves.

It’s getting late, and we should return to the inn.”

“Very well, my lady, please take care on your way.

Be safe.”

Siena bowed once more, watching Rachel and Ruby’s figures merge into the dim streets of Iron Anvil’s evening.

In the cold wind, Ruby looked at Rachel’s profile and asked in a low voice, “You’re buying clothes?”

Rachel did not look at her, merely tightened her cloak, her gaze directed towards the inn.

Her voice was flat: “They’re for Naiya.

I can hardly let her keep wearing those tattered rags, can I?”