The Sanctuary’s Reckoning

“These traitors dream of seizing control of the Redwater Tavern amidst the chaos of the sanctuary, but they utterly disregard my presence!”

Cecilia raised her right hand, three scalpels glinting between her fingers, their metallic blades casting a cold, silver sheen under the torchlight.

“Aquilis, don’t let this scoundrel deceive you! Come with your sister; I’ll take you back!”

“Aquilis! Are you truly going to listen to that vile woman? I’ve told you before, haven’t I, about the Silver Hand and how utterly corrupt they are?!”

Behind Aquilis, Mejga exerted frantic pressure, all the while slowly retreating into the shadows.

“Sister Cecilia, I… I can’t turn back now…!”

Directly opposite Kaelan, Aquilis wept openly, tears streaming down her face as she accelerated once more, her hands flailing desperately before her, yearning to touch Kaelan’s skin.

“Crossbowmen!”

Phillo’s sharp command reached the accompanying Bloodsail Alliance crossbowmen, while other divine guards stepped forward with raised shields, protecting Kaelan on either side.

The crossbowmen leveled their weapons, several bolts simultaneously aimed at the tip of Aquilis’s nose.

“Nazareth’s report clearly states that Aquilis is a mermaid; such a dangerous heteromorphic race has no place remaining in Vero. Kill her!”

“No!!!”

Amidst Cecilia’s horrified cry, the crossbow bolts flew from their strings, each conical arrow becoming a fleeting, slanted shadow that darted across the teeming black forms on the stone wall. They pierced Aquilis’s body, and the mermaid maiden let out a bloodcurdling shriek as she collapsed sideways.

“…”

“It’s alright… everything’s alright…”

By the wall, Cecilia collapsed onto Aquilis, gently cradling her head.

“Blood…”

“Only a graze.”

“Sister Cecilia… *sob* *sob*…”

A crimson stain slowly bloomed across Cecilia’s back as she forced a smile, leaning down to press herself against the trembling Aquilis, her gaze lingering for a moment on the other woman’s soft silver hair, lost in thought.

“Mejga! Where are your accomplices?!”

“Stop wasting words with him; seize him!”

The Rust Chain Brotherhood clearly took this incident seriously, dispatching a group of professional enforcers to assist Kaelan. These men, with black cloths tied around their heads and dressed in sleeveless vests, were masters of combat, far superior to common gladiatorial slaves. Their extensive battle experience evident, they exchanged glances before raising their weapons to shield their heads and chests, fanning out to encircle Mejga.

“Hahaha… hahahahahaha—”

Mejga’s maniacal laughter echoed through the stone walls. From the darkness, countless ice needles pierced the frigid air, raining down upon the Brotherhood’s enforcers, whose pained cries and curses instantly erupted into a cacophony.

A shimmering silver barrier materialized, shielding the enforcers from the incoming ice needles. Aivy, staff in hand, pressed forward relentlessly, the protective barrier advancing toward Mejga at the same pace.

“He’s faltering! Phillo!”

“Haaaah—”

Responding to Aivy’s call, Phillo surged forth from the barrier, his longsword raised. Shards of silver light still clung to his armor as his blade arced in a horizontal slash towards Mejga’s neck!

Mejga raised his left forearm to shield his neck, and the sword’s edge clashed against his garments, emitting two resounding *ping-pong* sounds as large chunks of ice shattered outwards.

It was an Ice Armor spell, the same incantation, yet Mejga’s casting was both swifter and more potent than Saranya’s, a mere novice.

Aivy’s barrier dissipated, and she sank to one knee, her previous injuries still unhealed; casting even a single spell had been an immense strain.

Without the barrier’s protection, the ice needles resumed their relentless shower from above. The Brotherhood enforcers found themselves unable to advance, while the heavily armored divine guards stepped forward to brave the assault. Meanwhile, the Bloodsail Alliance sailors retreated behind the stairs, crossbows readied, waiting for an opportune moment.

Only Phillo managed to press forward to Mejga’s front.

“Surrender now!”

“You red-haired waste, you think you’re worthy?!”

Mejga chanted, enveloping his entire upper body in spectral blue ice armor, then raised his hands, dual-wielding ice blades, and plunged into a fierce close-quarters battle with Phillo.

“Brother…”

Witnessing the chaotic scene, Saranya’s brow furrowed slightly. She mumbled, bewildered, and took half a step forward.

“Oof—”

Kaelan embraced Saranya from behind.

“Paresha, Saranya’s mind isn’t clear right now. Take her downstairs, and whatever you do, don’t lift the robe from her.”

“…”

“Paresha, why are you just standing there? Answer me!”

“…”

By Paresha’s usual temperament, she would have been the first to plunge into the fray. Yet, from the moment she approached Saranya, Paresha had remained rooted to the spot, silent and offering no sign of assistance.

“This robe… it’s… Father’s.”

Paresha reached out, stroking the bishop’s robe on Saranya, then clutched a corner of the fabric tightly, suddenly demanding in a trembling voice,

“Father! Where is Father?! Tell me!”

“That’s right…”

The others quickly realized as well.

“The Bishop, and all the voters, they should all be here!”

“Mejga!!”

Phillo roared, lifting his sword to parry Mejga’s ice blade above his head, then delivering a swift kick that knocked the weapon from Mejga’s other hand.

“Where are Bishop Doron and the others?!”

“Hahaha… hahahahaha—”

“You laugh! Laugh, then! I’ll give you something to laugh about!”

Phillo’s blade arced in a wide sweep, switching sides above his head to sever a large lock of Mejga’s black, curly hair. Simultaneously, his left hand released the sword hilt, his gauntlet delivering a resounding slap across Mejga’s face.

The divine guards had not intended to kill him; Mejga could not die. They needed to interrogate the wizard, force him to reveal his accomplices. Most critically, with all the voters now missing, they had to make Mejga speak and locate those esteemed VIPs.

If the Moon-Marked Sect Bishop of Vero City, the Bishop of Midas City, the distant Pedomar Faction Bishop, along with Vero’s high-ranking city officials and guild representatives from the City Alliance, were to perish in the sanctuary, the Moon-Marked Sect Church would undoubtedly face immense pressure from all sides and bear significant responsibility.

Mejga tumbled to the ground, rolling once, his swollen cheek puffed high, a faint trickle of blood escaping the corner of his mouth.

“Cough… cough cough… die…!”

“Phillo, watch out!!”

With a sharp crack beneath the silver-armored divine guard’s feet, extreme cold instantly scaled his greaves, freezing him in place. While the guard struggled, Mejga, still on the ground, flung an ice blade with a flick of his wrist.

Unable to free his frozen legs, Phillo, in desperation, released his longsword and pressed his open palms, facing outwards, before him to block the ice blade.

“Lord Phillo!”

The ice blade effortlessly pierced Phillo’s first palm, yet its momentum remained undiminished, continuing to rip through his flesh and bone fragments before emerging from the back of his second hand. The translucent blade tip hovered a mere half-inch from his eye.

Melting ice water, mingled with blood, collected in a small crimson pool within the grooves of the divine guard’s gauntlet.

“You—bastard—!!”

Phillo’s pupils abruptly constricted, and a bestial roar erupted from his throat. He wrenched his legs free from the ice, his bloodshot eyes wide, and twisted his wrists, using his pierced palms to brutally shatter the remaining ice. With blood spraying, he clamped his hands firmly over Mejga’s face.

The ice needles continued to fall, but seeing their superior injured, the divine guards cast aside all caution, roaring as they swarmed forward.

Mejga, his face streaked with blood, continued to laugh maniacally, even managing to whistle beneath Phillo’s crushing grip.

“You… you still have the audacity—”

“Woof, woof woof!”

Phillo’s furious curses were interrupted by barks as Mejga continued to whistle, accompanied by ‘tsk tsk tsk’ sounds meant for calling dogs.

Kaelan held Saranya tighter, who was struggling to break free, a sudden sense of foreboding rising in her heart.

‘Where would this effeminate wizard find the leisure to keep dogs?’

“Aaaahhhhh—”

The dog barks grew closer, and at the same moment, Paresha seemed to discover something around the corner, letting out a piercing, heart-rending scream.