Evan felt uncomfortable as everyone seemed to try and carefully glance his way, the sudden outburst having caught everyone’s attention. He acted like nothing had happened – he continued to drink his wine and eat his food, but he was internally in turmoil.

The way she had stormed off… he had thought he was the only one trying their hand at the larger formations – that was the way Master Isaac had seemed to make it out to be – but perhaps the truth was a little more hurtful to the others. Had they given it a shot and found it too difficult?

He truly wasn’t attempting to inflate his ego or make her – or Arnav – out to be stupid. The primary formation was difficult, but he didn’t think it was because of its complexity. Was he just that talented? He didn’t believe it.

Tonight was easily the longest and most engaging conversation he had had with Illiana since… well, basically since he met her, and that it had turned out this way saddened him. It had seemed to be going so well, up until the last few minutes.

Did Arnav think the same of him? It hadn’t even entered his mind before, but without magic, Arnav couldn’t even work on something like a primary formation, at least not without assistance from someone who could do the inscriptions for him, and that was a tall order.

Something he had noticed at the requests office was that as the value – both monetarily and otherwise – went up for a request, so too did the privacy the client demanded. Most of them explicitly required that only one person, the one who accepted the request, keep all the important details to themselves.

This essentially meant that whoever accepted the request needed to do everything, and for Arnav, that was a problem. It was for Illiana too, but that didn’t seem to be her issue – mostly.

He figured that Illiana could likely still manage if she drank mana potions like water, but that of course wasn’t tenable at the moment with their income. After all, mana potions restored a fixed amount of mana after being consumed – the kind that boosted the soul’s natural production were far more expensive, and not nearly as useful for him or Illiana.

Evan put the issue to the side. Dwelling on it and getting drunk weren’t going to do him any good, and he decided to just ask Arnav about it at the next opportunity. He was usually quite open and comfortable talking about things that Evan found deeply personal.

Instead, he decided to pay his bill and make his way home – something he was dreading. Part of the reason he had stayed as long as he had was to avoid the trip home – the encounter from before had him spooked pretty bad.

Briefly, he considered trying to pay one of the hunters in the restaurant to escort him home, but he didn’t trust anyone here. It was late, and if he casually revealed enough money to sway a hunter, he might just never make it home.

Anyone from the military was a no-go as well – to be able to eat here meant they were high enough up in the chain that escort duty was beneath them, at least for him.

No, that scared me pretty badly, but I’ll be fine. There’s nothing to be scared of!

In the same manner as Illiana, he dug into his coin purse and casually tossed a few coins onto the table. He was no doubt overpaying, even considering a generous tip, but the money held little value to him, and his mind was elsewhere.

There was also the fact that this wasn’t his first time here, and he enjoyed being waited on hand and foot. It was a guilty pleasure, and he wasn’t too ashamed to admit it.

Stepping out into the cold and dreary night, he found his paranoia ramped up to eleven almost instantly. He had been inside for more than an hour, he guessed, but not two hours.

And now, the streets were empty. Completely.

He almost turned right back around and went back inside – soon enough, people would begin leaving whether they wanted too or not – curfew was fast approaching, and the military enforced it quite strictly.

That would be almost shameful though and wouldn’t befit his status. Besides, if he ran, he might catch up to Illiana, their argument be damned.

***

Evan sipped his water, back inside the restaurant. When he had come back inside, he told the waiter that he wanted to sober back up first, and that he wasn’t quite ready to face the chill.

Yes, I just need to sober up first… somebody else leave first, damnit!

He wasn’t quite telling the truth, and he was sure the waiter knew that – they knew exactly how much he’d had to drink tonight, but they also knew better than to even change their expression.

A smart man, he liked him more already. His tip hadn’t gone to waste.

An hour passed as he sipped on his water, and he slowly began to feel a little better. He should have just gone home – he could be fast asleep by now!

Just as he was beginning to gather his courage, he noticed two women approaching the restaurant from outside. They were dressed in dark colors, along with a hood that wasn’t pulled up. Who would be arriving at the restaurant at this time?

No one. They’re here for some nefarious purpose!

His paranoia kicked into overdrive, and with a startling calm he didn’t feel, he got up walked over to the nearest waiter. Before they could ask him what he needed, he started talking.

“Hello, my stomach just isn’t agreeing with me tonight, and I would like to use the bathroom. Is that alright?” A fully furnished bathroom used formations and mundane plumbing to make the experience more convenient, and as a restaurant that catered to the higher class, they had one.

“Of course, sir, here you are.” The waiter pulled out a key and handed it to him. He started to say something more, but Evan took off, with a little more haste in his step. They would be entering the building soon, and he wanted no part of it. If nothing happened for twenty minutes or so, he would act like nothing was wrong, but his paranoia was in the driver’s seat at the moment.

Once he reached the bathroom, he quickly began stripping himself out of his uniform, more thankful than ever that the recent cold weather had him wearing clothes underneath – his mobile AC just didn’t work very well while on the move.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

He swore to himself, that if he survived this, he was ordering the Substance for cultivation and making a better shield. Maybe even a weapon, though he would have to look into that.

Now truly looking crazy, he stood in the bathroom and waited, listening. A minute went by, and he started to calm down.

Then he heard the screams erupt across the restaurant. His breath hitched, and he lowered himself to the floor while he tried to get his breathing under control. There were sounds of struggle – his own cultivation was rather weak among those in the restaurant, and many of them were part of the military proper, with cultivation geared to combat, or powerful hunters.

It was incredibly loud, and he hoped that the soldiers or whomever in the restaurant won, but if they lost, he hoped they didn’t think to check the bathroom.

Evan brought forth his soul sense, and analyzed the reinforcement done on the door in front of him. It featured two formations, one of which he recognized as simple reinforcement, and he figured the other was to keep the scent inside or something – he didn’t pay much attention to it.

As he tried to push past the sounds of screams and combat, he realized the reinforcement was only brought to the first Collapse level, and his panic increased.

Whoever was out there was far stronger than the first Collapse – likely they were at least the third Collapse, maybe higher. The reinforcement on this door wouldn’t stop them any more than paper tissue would, and if they had cultivation for their senses…

He sat down on the floor and controlled his breathing and waited.

It was only a few minutes later when everything became eerily quiet. His panic redoubled, and he stopped breathing entirely.

There was nothing… and then, before he even had the chance to flinch, an arrow slammed through the door and hit his shield at a strange angle.

It broke instantly, offering practically no resistance as the device at his side expended all of its Substance to try and stop the attack, heating up from quick breakdowns in the imbuement and burning him.

As it shattered his shield like it was nothing, it veered slightly off course and exited through the wall behind him, throwing up dust and shrapnel as it did – the building was made from stone. The shrapnel exploded across his body and the noise caused his ears to start bleeding.

It was almost like an explosion, and only as he fell unconscious from the shrapnel of the wall hitting his head did he even understand that he had been shot at.

***

When he awoke, the first thing he felt was pain. His entire body ached, and he could tell he was covered in lacerations. It was dark, and he thanked his lucky stars he could still feel anything at all, and then everything. He could still wiggle his toes and flex his fingers, but he felt a little light-headed.

Reaching his hands up, he felt the shattered remains of the wall shift around him as he felt his head. It hurt and was bleeding quite badly.

He also had a terrible headache.

Unfortunately, he had never managed to learn that healing spell, and his progress had stalled as his deadline came up. Instead, he tried to consider how long he had been unconscious. The blood on his head was dry and sticky, so it had been at least long enough for that, but how long did that take?

He had no idea.

Regardless, he thought trying to climb out was a good idea. Whoever had done this to him likely thought him dead, and if he didn’t get moving and try and bind up his wounds, they might soon be right.

Beginning to struggle to get to his feet, he considered himself quite lucky – if he had been outside, he would probably be dead, and the building could have come down on top of him.

Part of him was in awe – that was the first time he had engaged in anything approaching high level combat in his life, and the sheer speed of events left him floored. He was already collapsing from the shrapnel by the time he realized something had even happened, and that had been an archer!

What did the struggle outside look like? A blur? And the battle had gone for several minutes at that frantic pace! He truly began to understand just how powerless he was in the grand scheme of things, and how easy it would be to die from no fault of his own.

If not for his shield – may it rest in peace – he would have perished with the others. Only the slight deviation the arrow had experienced from the door and his shield saved him, as well as the fact that they didn’t think to confirm their kill.

Amateurs. He tried to smile at the thought, but quickly thought better of it. This was no time for jokes, he could still very well be in danger.

Once he got to his feet, he stumbled out of the door, limping, and found himself amongst a scene of carnage that would haunt his dreams in the days to come.

Insofar as he could tell, everyone inside the restaurant was dead. The staff, the guests, the soldiers – everyone. No one was spared, and he emptied his stomach at the sight. It was a grisly scene.

He could see the signs of the struggle he had heard earlier. Those with strength, the soldiers and hunters, were cut liberally but still in one piece.

Their weapons were missing, but amongst them were strangers, dressed in dark clothes and out of place with the rest. They too, were still in one piece.

For the other guests and the staff, the same could not be said. So powerful were the attackers that their blows separated limbs from their owners, and heads from shoulders. The floor was liberally painted with their lifeblood.

Evan tore his focus away from the ghastly scene, and almost – but not quite – wished the lights in the main room were out as the one in the bathroom was.

He looked outside into the dark night and saw fires blooming all along the street. There were occasional bodies, though all of them were wearing something that identified them as important figures – mostly, that meant a uniform.

Stepping through the room and entering another door, he entered the back of the restaurant. He didn’t see anything he could use to treat his wounds, so he took to tearing scraps of cloth from his own clothes and started binding his wounds. Just moving about had opened some of them back up, and he already didn’t feel well.

This took some amount of time – he had a hard time tearing his clothes apart, as they were imbued with force resistance in mind, and he already felt quite weak and nauseous, but he pushed through.

Eventually, he managed to dress the worst of his wounds properly enough to get back to moving, but now another question presented itself. Should he even go anywhere?

If anything happened while he was moving about, he would almost certainly die. From how strong the ones that attacked the restaurant were, he was wildly outmatched, and he owed no loyalty to Starspire to do anything.

Even if he did, he would best be able to contribute by rebuilding the place. Doing anything but keeping himself safe at the moment would be a foolish decision. The only purpose he could serve on the streets was as another body.

Illiana had stormed off earlier – he hadn’t forgotten, but there was little he could do. He had no idea where she was, or even if she remained among the living. He also valued his own life and safety above hers – he wouldn’t court death just for her sake.

If he was far, far stronger, things might be different, but as it was, a single arrow that had missed him had nearly killed him and left him severely injured anyway.

Since the restaurant was built out of stone, and had formations to resist damage, they hadn’t set it aflame. By all accounts it was safest to just stay where he was, but the stench of the dead abhorred him, and he still didn’t feel safe.

His shield was completely inoperable. When it tried to stop that arrow, the entire formation had burned itself out in its attempt, consuming all the Substance that powered it and causing a leakage that created enough heat to give him burns on the spot where he kept it.

It was something to keep in mind for the next iteration, but for the moment he decided to creep to the back of the kitchen and steal a glance outside – the front entrance wasn’t the only one.

As he got closer, his anxiety steadily increased until he was almost shaking by the time he reached the door. What if someone was still out there, waiting? Even mortals could overpower him at the best of times, and he didn’t have his uniform on.

Evan steeled himself and cracked the door open slightly. Nothing. As the air from outside reached him, he realized it didn’t smell any better outside than in. Between the bodies, the fires, and all the likely still ongoing violence, the air outside tasted of ash, cinders, and other pleasant smells.

He shut the door before the escaping light could reveal him – he hadn’t thought of that before he opened the door.

Resigned to stay inside the restaurant, he found a corner of the room that was best hidden from both doors, and sat down there – thankfully, the kitchen was much less grisly than the rest of the building.