From left to right, I take a closer look at the Hunters blocking our path.

A sharp-eyed man with graying raven-black hair, clutching a gnarled staff, its end embedded with a ruby the size of my fist. His robes are similarly extravagant, a royal purple thickly trimmed by swirling patterns of golden fabric. They look tailor made, with tight-fitting sleeves. The robes run down perfectly to his knees. Again - a mage. I can feel the mana collected up in that staff he's holding.

A woman with a bow about the same size as her entire body - the draw strength on that must be enormous! She'll have to be taken out before she's allowed to fire it at us. Atop long, messy auburn hair sits a wreath made of twigs and leaves. Her attire reminds me of a camouflaged hunter (the ones that target animals, not enemies of the Kingdom), with her cloak ruffled with all shades of green to mimic a bush.

The third is a woman wielding a halberd, ginger hair cut closely to her scalp - it barely seems to extend beyond her eye-line, jutting down lower at the sides. She's wearing plates of armor here and there, strapped to her shoulders, her forearms, and shins. The polearm is well-decorated, with a bit of red and gold fabric running down from the bottom of the haft.

"Stay where you are," commands the fourth one, a man wielding a dagger in either hand, "you're under arrest - move, and we will attack." His eyes are discerning, looking over every single one of us, same as I'm doing. Something about him seems..-

"Captain, that's...." The fifth calls out - a woman. She's clutching a wand and looking at me, concern in her eyes as if she's seeing a ghost. Their 'Captain', the man I was looking at before, seems unphased. But the rest of the group looks... Alarmed. They must have heard about me from Josephine, then.

"How in the hells..?" One of them mumbles.

The ruby-stave mage points his weapon toward me, mana erupting as he casts a spell. For some reason, I expect fire - instead, a beam of glowing space, pure light carves a path in a straight line toward me. I ready myself to move, but stop short. A wall of rock and earth appears before me in a flash, blocking the light's path. Was that Aisling?

My senses are fizzing and popping, overloaded by the amount of things happening within them. [Aesthesia]'s fully covered up eight different people, excluding myself, and their movements are all sent straight to my brain. It feels as if my body's been split into pieces, moving about outside of my control.

Don't focus on everything at once! Stella warns, Just let it be!

I take a deep, shaky breath, watching and feeling as Aidan raises an arm, his crossbow whipping in the direction of the Hunters. Then, he fires an explosive bolt toward the crowd. At the same time, four of those bursting-mushrooms are flung over by Maeve's magic, and an intense flurry of sharpened pebbles follow suit from Aisling's aura.

T-they're.. They're seriously trying to kill them outright?

Do you see an alternative, Sybil? She chides, Non-lethality is a luxury that you can't afford at your level. You can't maim or restrain them in a way that stops them from fighting without just killing them.

The mushrooms explode, and I hear a few groans from within the cloud of flame, spores, and jagged rocks. Windows burst and the side of the building creaks from the combination of attacks all thrown at it at once. All of the Hunters received glancing blows, save for their captain - who avoided the strikes entirely with a frightening deftness.

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Sybil. Stella says, a sudden weight to her tone, You've come here to rescue someone considered to be a villain - do you understand?

I lick my lips, raising a hand toward the clearing smoke. Energy gathers in my fingers and palm, as it has so many times before, and I point toward the one that needs to be eliminated first - the great-bow wielder.

You need to act with the brutality they expect from you - or they'll kill you.

It primes, and then erupts, but then somebody appears in front of me. [Energy Missile] goes flying wildly to the side, a beam of mana lighting up the ground before teetering off to nowhere in particular.

I'm grabbed by the cloak - their captain? He grips onto it tightly, spinning me around at a dizzying speed. Before long, he releases his hold, flinging me away from my allies. Everything becomes a blur as I fly freely through the air, my head and feet perfectly horizontal. I need to right myself - immediately - or I'll bash my skull against the stones and die a gruesome death.

Threads wrap around my wrists, a few of them for each one. They tug hard, pulling me upright - it hurts, but no worse than bursting my head on masonry. My boots activate, stopping my descent, but I'm still sliding back quickly. With everything I've got, I continue to pull at my wrists to slow myself down.

A moment later, I deactivate the boots and slide onto the ground below. By some miracle, I avoided popping my elbows or wrists free of their sockets. All in all, I was thrown away at least a dozen meters. Who in the world is this person?

I can't waste time here, those three have been left to deal with four opponents on their own. As capable as they are, especially Maeve and Aisling, I can't bear the thought of leaving them to deal with those Hunters on their own.

Before I can even begin to move back, the captain appears from thin air only a few meters away. He approaches me slowly, taking deliberate steps. That discerning look in his eyes hasn't disappeared, but it's been tempered by something else - curiosity? It's hard to tell... Then, he stops in his tracks.

A hand brushes aside black hair from his pale, bordering on pasty face. His lips twitch, and then form a small smile.

"Child of Morgan and friend to the Nightdancer?" It's more of a statement than a question. It's difficult for me to parse exactly what's lingering in that tone of his. Is he trying to intimidate me by revealing his hand?

"W-what..?" I stammer, "Who are you?"

The Nightdancer, that's what Jemith referred to themself as - and the token they gave me, it was supposed to mark me as a friend to them. But how in the world does this person know Jemith?

"Nobody, and somebody. Don't worry yourself about it for now." He takes a deep breath, shifting into a relaxed combat pose, daggers held out at his sides. "I'm curious, Sybil - are those daggers of yours just for show?"

What kind of question is that - he's a Hunter, isn't he? Shouldn't he be painting this place with my viscera by now? Especially with the strength he seems possessed of.

"I do." I say, "But you should know very well that I'm a mage-"

"Yes, yes. I know - but I'm not curious about your magic." He tilts his head to the side, "Only sort of. I'm more interested in learning about how capable you are with those. It's rare to see a mage bothering with anything other than wands, or staffs, or tomes..." He goes on, hanging his head in disappointment before lifting it up once more. "But for you of all people to bother with them..?"

The way he says that sends a chill down my spine. As if he had just said, "But for the Pioneer of Sorcery of all people..." How much does he know? I've only ever heard my master's closest friends or her gravest enemies saying her name aloud - so then, which one is he?

"Draw them, then." He says, "I want to see how well you use them."

Both of my hands reach toward the hilts of my dagger and knife, drawing them from their sheaths on my belt. I've never fought with two at once before, so I can only hope that [Dagger Proficiency] carries me forward. Maybe, just maybe I can pretend to go along with the rules of his little game, and then...

Don't. Stella says, Just... Just go along with it. Why does she sound so nervous?

He nods, "Okay."