I check my appearance one more time in the full length mirror installed between a pair of wardrobes in Ramon's bedroom. Wearing the maid uniform is as uncomfortable as ever and the veil is irritating to see out of, but all in all, the getup does a good job of obscuring my identity. Ramon and Guy were right, the maid uniform makes me look like a mannish, flat chested woman at first glance. Its not going to pass muster at anyone seriously paying attention, but there are certain benefits at looking outlandish.

That being polite society generally doesn't want to pay any attention to you.

The Order Knights paid me no mind the last time I walked out of Temple in this disguise, and the wanted notice makes no mention of me ever cross dressing as a woman. So the disguise should be good enough to keep the Order and gendarme at bay. Henrik and Christina are another matter though, I'll have to hide if they stumble upon me during the escape attempt. Its troublesome, but you really can't win them all. The only change I have made to the disguise is that I'm wearing my original belt over the uniform. It looks slightly out of place with all the pouches a maid would never need, but I would rather have the healing potions readily available if the situation calls for it.

I draw my sword and cut off a length of red satin draped across the wall, spreading the cloth across the rugs. My own clothes are then bundled up securely into the satin, safely out of sight. I begin slicing off more of the decorative satin, this time using some of the fabric it to wrap my sword up. Taking some inspiration from the Order's fashion sense, I then use the satin to lash both my sword and the bundle of clothes together, before securing it all on to my back.

"Pretty inconvenient." I mutter, rolling my shoulders to get a feel for the weight of the bundles.

I made the knots tight, but I'll still need to be careful not to move too quickly. The last thing I want is all my belongings scattering all over the ground. Ramon did not have any luggage bags in his home, so this makeshift solution was the best I could come up with at short notice. Night had fallen across Deshawn City, and I did not want to tarry any further. Ramon could waltz right in at any moment and that would be extremely awkward to say the least.

I make my way to the townhouse's main door and open it slightly, spying on the street outside through the crack. Good, nobody is out and about. The Order must have gotten all tuckered out from spending the last few hours posturing against the gendarme. The streets are deathly quiet in fact. I slip out of Ramon's house and start walking, bent over under the scanty illumination of the streetlights.

So let's review the plan.

I sneak out of Temple. If my luck holds, I keep moving toward the edge of Deshawn City. Then, I steal a horse from one of the stables and get the fuck out of here. Simple and direct. As to where I'm supposed to be going, I can figure it out later once Henrik and the gendarme are no longer breathing down my neck. My footsteps echo off into the distance, accompanied by the buzzing noise from the streetlights. I almost trip over an exposed power cable running along the cobbled street, but manage to avoid the hazard in time. An exhausted looking Order conscript passes by, barely giving me a second glance.

Wonderful the plan is working.

Instead of heading directly to Temple's exit, I cut through the side streets. It adds a bit of time to my journey, but the direct path would also take me to the Order temple which gives Temple district its name. No sense in tempting fate needlessly. I'll do a clean loop around the Order temple, and then cross the district border. Less potential fuss and muss that way. The buildings of Temple loom over me, with a number of windows still lighted up. I hear the distant quarrel between a mother and her son, the sound of a man throwing up and the sounds of sewage being flushed down the iron pipes that snake across every building.

Its the cacophony of poverty.

A sharp pungent scent tells me I've reached the canal, a huge structure cutting deep into the westward side of Temple. Deshawn City might have sewers, but the city had grown far beyond its original size. The sewer might have been expanded accordingly, but the city could not be bothered to maintain the quality of construction, especially in the poorer areas. The whole of the city might be served by a sewerage system, but not every part of said system would be covered up.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

That was how the canal came to be. Actually a part of Deshawn City's sewer, the canal was the segment that had been dug out and left open to the elements. Cutting like a gash through the Temple and the other less salubrious areas of the city, you could in theory access pretty much all of Deshawn City using the canal.

In theory.

The reality of course is that the actually nice areas of Deshawn City were the parts that had underground, sealed off sewers. Anyone trying to use the canal in this way would just find himself locked behind a locked manhole, double reinforced to protect it from magic using vandals. Neither could I use the canal to escape the city either. Thanks to Deshawn City's history as a strongpoint against the demon king, a sewer outlet discharging crap outside would be an inexcusable security risk. Since water flows downward, the city's planners had the bright idea to keep digging into the earth, and basically let everyone's shit flow in that direction. This also led to the unfortunate side effect of the canal overflowing during heavy rain with the shit bubbling up from the depths.

But again, since the brown apocalypse only affects the poor areas of Deshawn City, nobody that actually matters cares.

The canal's dry tonight, no rain lately. I walk steadily beside it, holding one of the maid uniform's sleeves to my nose. My walking pace is calm, though my hair has started to stand on end. I feel pressure building into a point at the rear of my neck. My senses scan the area, confirming my suspicions.

I'm being watched. By someone who can wield magic.

An Order Knight? No. Can't be. I passed no one like that on my way here. My voyeur also seems to have gotten tired of just watching. He's moving in at a blistering fast speed. Physical enhancements. My inner voice screams a warning.

Ambush.

Spinning about, I feel the wind tear just past my neck as a deadly sharp short sword misses its thrust. A man in dirty robes with a hood drawn across his face lands on his feet like a cat in front of me, making a surprised grunt at my close escape. The short sword is nevertheless already in motion, slashing horizontally to behead me. Calling upon my own magic, my right arm snaps up, grabbing my attacker's wrist, forcing the attack to stop short. I then twist, trying to disarm my opponent.

The thrum of magic pulses through the ambusher's arm, rendering his skin bones as hard as iron. I can barely make any headway in forcing the ambusher to relinquish his weapon. Our arms tremble from the strain, evenly matched.

"You're not who I was looking for." the ambusher rasps, sounding strangely familiar. His arm shoots out like a piston, a fist slamming painfully in the chest and sending me flying off my feet, right into the canal. My empowered reflexes easily compensate and I throw myself into a flip, performing a similar cat like landing on to the base of the canal, sending a thin film of dirty water splashing about.

"But you'll do just as well!" my ambusher shouts as he leaps down into the canal as well, short sword at the ready to run me through.

"Try me." I sneer, grabbing the long dress around my legs, tearing it clean off and leaving only enough fabric remaining to qualify for a mini skirt. I toss the veil hiding my face away as well, needing my eyes unhindered for what comes next.

As the ambusher plunges toward me like a spear, I whip the torn dress at him like fishing net, ensnaring him within its billowing folds. There's a surprised curse followed by a ripping sound as my opponent begins to slice his way out of the surprise trap. As the dress falls apart around him like ribbons, the ambusher drops into a roll, getting several fresh stains on the filthy robe as he recovers from the botched lunge.

I flex my chest mightily, causing the satin holding the bundles in place on my back to tear. As my belongings fall to the ground, I catch the sword, still wrapped in satin. Not wasting any time, I swing the weapon like a club, bringing it down on the ambusher as he rises from the roll he executed.

My opponent is as supple as a snake, his entire body slithering to meet my assault. His short sword easily blocks my strike, but I already expected that to happen. I respond by pulling hard on my sword, letting the edge of the ambusher's weapon cut into the satin binding it. The red cloth peels away, freeing my sword and in a flash, I unsheathe it, following up with a decapitating stroke. I grin as the ambusher fumbles, clumsily batting aside the empty scabbard, his own weapon out of position to manage a parry. My sword closes in -

- and the ambusher dodges to the side, his entire body blurring as he moves.

No, that's wrong. He didn't dodge. I felt my sword strike his neck. And he wasn't defending with magic either, I didn't feel the trademark resistance against the blow. I hit him. I know it.

The ambusher should be dead.

Then the hood falls away, revealing the face of my enemy.

"Now here's a surprise." I say. But its not me saying it.

"No." I breathe, staggering back in surprise.

He's worn from rough living, but that kind of thing won't erase a man's features. My eyes don't lie.

"Hello, Mac Nair." the ambusher smiles, my face reflected in his dark eyes.

He's me. A perfect copy of me.

I've been fighting myself.

.....

NOW LOADING .....

Hint: Quicksteps provide invincibility frames. Use them to avoid attacks that otherwise can't be avoided.