Ethan continued running through the castle’s corridors he had gotten to know so well over the weeks he had been hiding away. He had no way of knowing, but if the guy who knocked himself out was any indicator, only a few of the cloaked figures could leave the clearing below. The gruesome ritual most likely requiring the attention of the more competent men.

It seemed logical to Ethan that someone with a fitting power could drill a hole or move the debris to clear one of the entrances. Magic was weird, and Ethan knew next to nothing about what was out there. After all, judging from the power the figures on the horses displayed, Ethan was way below them. As he ran, Ethan considered that either way, it was just a matter of finding where the fat guy used to enter the castle and use that hole for his escape.

Ethan ran back to the large hall with the tables on the first floor and waited before entering, listening to see if he could hear anyone else out and about. He silently looked at his feet clad in dark boots embroidered with golden sigils and relished in the comfortable feeling of having some footwear. These are proper nice boots the fatso was wearing. I wonder how much they cost him, Ethan considered while waiting, his heart beating like a drum.

After waiting a few seconds and catching his breath, Ethan crossed the large hall, trying to be as stealthy as possible, keeping to the shadows near the walls. Then, he moved towards one of the previously blocked sections, hoping to find a new exit, courtesy of the chub.

Ethan needed to find out how many people had come to look for him or if it was just one guy. What was his name again? he thought as he entered a dark tunnel, putting his light crystal forward. The guy in the castle confirmed his suspicion that the figure on the horse managed to see him from across the clearing and thus ordered the search.

Ethan knew deep down that if he was in the guy’s shoes, he would send a small force he could spare to search the castle and eliminate witnesses. However, the thought seemed silly, given that the fatso was so gravely incompetent. How he ended up in the sect was a mystery. Maybe I overestimated these guys? he thought, moving forward.

He continued sneaking through the corridor for a minute until something he thought he heard something. Ethan stopped, listening intently, and heard stones grind against each other. The sound was enough that he instinctually crouched, trying to make himself as small as possible. The move proved the right one as, in the next moment, a rock hit the wall at the place where his head used to be.

“Tsk, you avoided that,” said a male voice down the tunnel, strolling towards where Ethan was crouching around the corner. “It is no use hiding, rat. I know that you are there. You have the light crystal in your hand, you dumbass. There is nowhere to run; we have got you surrounded.”

Ethan paused briefly, storing the crystal, and replied, “Yea? That is not what the fat guy said before I got rid of him.”

The man laughed with mirth, “You killed Vargas? Good riddance. You did not happen to come across some possessions he had on his person?” Ethan checked the satchel at his side and stored it in his storage as well.

“Possessions? I did not notice anything on him,” he replied, summoning his sword silently and noting the almost empty mana bar flicker in his vision.

The man laughed again, saying, “No matter, I will find out soon enough.” The stone where Ethan was hiding shifted before coming loose. As the stone shard smashed where he was hiding, Ethan did not hesitate and jumped around the corner, his conjured sword in hand.

He discovered a man in his thirties, wearing the same dark cloak as his previous assailant, standing in the middle of the corridor with his hands stretched out. Ethan ran straight at him to strike without bothering to identify the guy.

The man did not wait for Ethan to land his strike, nor did he make extensive speeches. Instead, he shifted his stance and waved with his hand like an orchestrator, more stone coming off from around them, flying straight at Ethan.

Ethan saw the pieces coming and slashed at them, changing course to evade some and cutting down others. His approach was set on the man, as he understood that the guy most likely was some mage controlling earth or stone.

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Seeing that his attacks were not working, the hooded figure hurriedly started taking steps back, launching more and more projectiles at Ethan, albeit to no effect. Then, in a moment, Ethan was up close and personal with him, cutting at the man’s torso in a quick horizontal slash.

His dark blade did not find any purchase on its target and cut a shield made of stone just in front of the hooded figure. Ethan noticed then that the man was sweating and breathing heavily, likely exhausted from moving so much rock around. However, Ethan did not stop but moved to the left and slashed again.

The man tried to form another hasty shield but proved too slow for Ethan’s strike as the blade cut into his right side, drawing blood. The man yelped and recoiled from the pain, crying out and stating the obvious, “You bastard! You cut me!”

Ethan did not bother to follow up with banter and moved forward with another strike while his opponent was distracted, slashing at the guy’s head. Contrary to Ethan’s expectations, the guy did not form a sword made of stone or another shield. Nor did he try to avoid the blade, as any sane person would. Instead, the guy stood wide-eyed and stared at the dark edge, coming down on him like judgment.

It was over in a flash, the guy’s head falling off and rolling to the side, a stream of blood gushing out from where it used to be attached, bathing Ethan in the red liquid. Ethan recoiled, wincing at the smell and the sensation of so much blood on him. “God dammit!” he called out as he wiped his eyes, getting more of the liquid on his face.

“Keep it together, man. Keep it together! It was either you or him,” Ethan muttered as he started running down the tunnel, accepting the prompt to loot a sect member, not checking what he got. Ethan’s mind was in turmoil as fighting foxes and large cats was one thing. Fighting and killing a man - another.

He scrambled down the smooth tunnel and desperately tried not to process what had transpired just a few seconds ago, knowing full well that where there were two hooded figures, there were bound to be more. That was discounting the ones waiting outside. Therefore, Ethan opted to run away and try and sneak off rather than repeat the spectacle with another one sent to search for him.

He soon noticed light bleeding into the tunnel, an exit opening up before him a few meters away. Ethan slowed down and crept over to where the tunnel ended, looking out to observe the situation. Unfortunately, the scene from below looked far worse than from above. Ethan felt something vibrate above the large diagram fifty meters away.

Further away, he saw the men on the horses ride around the diagram shouting orders at the hooded figures, much like the ones he had faced in the castle. Where do I go? Ethan questioned, looking around the clearing and not seeing a clear escape route.

Then, something exploded at the far side of the ritual site, near the forest the figures had emerged from, drawing everyone’s attention. People started screaming as more and more explosions took place around the forest, the thrumming ceasing before something flashed in the sky. Ethan’s eyes widened as lighting shot out of the woods and hit one of the riders, knocking him off his horse. It cannot be…, he thought, dumbfounded.

More people started streaming out of the tree cover, grouped up in teams of five, clothed in a mismatch of armor that glinted in the evening sun. They charged the hooded figures and tore into them like football fans celebrating the win of their favorite team. Those look like medieval…, he observed, his thought cut off by a sudden surge of sounds.

Suddenly the clearing was filled with loud shouts, exploding abilities, and sounds of metal clashing on metal as the newcomers fought with the people guarding the ritual. Then, all hell broke loose as Ethan stared at the commotion, unaware that he had left the cave, and moved toward the diagram. He caught himself just as a pair of newcomers broke off from the back of the melee and started running toward him.

At first, he rejoiced, but he instantly remembered wearing the same cloak as the people they were attacking. So he did the only reasonable thing he could think of - he started running away. Ethan did not bother to explain the circumstances, recognizing that these people seemed to be the kind who hit first and asked questions later.

Running at full speed and not looking back, Ethan made it a hundred meters to the right from the entrance before he was stopped by a dagger cutting into the earth right before him. He skidded to a halt, summoning his blade, his mana fully depleted, as a man clad in dark leather armor was upon him, cutting forth with daggers in his hands.

Ethan repealed the attack and stepped back, calling, “Stop!” However, the newcomer did not listen to him and resumed his attack, overextending himself while attacking Ethan. As Ethan exchanged blows with the rogue-looking man, he noted that he was more skilled than the fools from the castle, even if he was willing to take some light punishment from Ethan’s blade.

They exchanged a couple more blows, both accumulating shallow wounds on their arms and torsos before they were joined by a woman with blonde hair dressed in white robes.

Ethan disengaged and paused to evaluate the newcomer, noting she looked younger than twenty and reminded him of a priest. Next, his eyes bulged as the woman cast a golden light on his opponent, and the man’s wounds started visibly closing.

“Come on! That is not fair!” he complained to both of them, recognizing that she was some sort of healer.