Ferris had to expend all his self-control to not to go dashing off ahead of the division of soldiers accompanying him. They were moving so slowly. The caution was necessary, considering the state of the city, but Ferris didn’t have to like it.

He had already checked all of them for the priestess’s magic. Most of them had been clear, but the faint weavings of mist had lain dormant in the heads of two of them. At least, Ferris assumed they had been dormant. They had been even more well-hidden than the ones that had lain on Ferris and his patient, given that they hadn’t been trying to interfere with the mind’s thought process.

Fortunately, finding them had still been easy enough. Ferris knew what to look for, and had already memorised the priestess’s mana signature.

He had questioned both guards, and both had admitted that they had visited the church’s delegation for healing minor afflictions. Though curiously, one hadn’t been healed himself, he had escorted a relative to the location, which implied that the priestess didn’t need to use her healing magic to activate her mind manipulation.

That matched with what Ferris had experienced. Even if he had been caught off guard in his meeting with her, he wouldn’t have failed to notice if she started using healing magic.

In fact, given his extraordinary senses, he was relatively sure he wouldn’t have failed to pick it up if she had used her gate at all, which implied that what she had done was some kind of natural talent, like Crusch’s Divine Protection.

He had asked the two guards to describe the priest who had been attending the delegation, and both had given a similar set of features. Long, purple hair worn in twin-tails, a blue nun’s outfit, and striking amber eyes.

Both matched Ferris’s own recollections of the priestess.

Melty Pristis.

The clumsy girl he had met in the church, who he had pitied and almost healed. She had forcibly stopped him with her ability, so whatever it was, it must be readily visible under the scrutiny of healing magic.

The fact that all three of the victims remembered the same person was a good sign, it meant that it was very likely that Melty was the only person with the ability to use the brainwashing magic, leading further credence to Ferris’s theory that it was an innate skill of hers.

This might explain why Oberon and the other traitor knights turned against us. If I couldn’t spot her laying that magic on me, how could anyone else expect to? If it affected me… who couldn’t it affect?

He paused.

Well… Reinhard, obviously, but who other than him?

“Sir Felix, please wait.”

A voice broke through Ferris’s ponderings, and he stopped in his tracks, glancing back at the division guarding him.

He had started pulling ahead of them again. He couldn’t help himself, at last he could put a face to one of the culprits of their misfortunes, but it would mean nothing if he died to bugs on his way.

“Sorry,” he said to the soldier who had approached him. “I was lost in my thoughts.”

“I understand,” the soldier said with a mild smile. He was the captain of the division of soldiers Ferris had command of. He was following Ferris’s orders without complaint, which felt strange to Ferris. He still tended to think of himself as a simple civilian, not a fully-fledged knight of the kingdom.

“I understand all too well,” the captain continued. “If there’s a chance to make all these people go home peacefully, we’d be fools not to jump at it.”

Ferris nodded, and began walking again, trying to match the pace of the soldier by his side.

It was questionable if Melty truly was going to be able to deactivate the magic she had weaved over so many people, and it was questionable that Ferris would be able to force her to do so in the first place, but it was a chance, so he had to try.

“We’re getting close to the cathedral,” the captain reported. “Are you sure this is where we’ll find the target?”

“No,” Ferris admitted. “But this is her stronghold. The centre of her influence. This is the best place to check.”

Ferris’s entire division only encompassed forty soldiers, but that should be enough to overpower what defenders the church had.

But that’s only if they don’t have any more traitor knights hidden up their sleeves.

“Break down the gate!” the captain shouted, and an Earth mage responded by throwing a boulder at it.

The cathedral’s gate was sufficient to keep thieves from simply strolling right up to the building, but it was mostly decorative. It was not intended to defend against a siege.

The mass of stone tore the metal off its hinges, and Ferris’s soldiers streamed through to the church grounds.

No response came from the cathedral. It was eerily quiet, and Ferris could feel the morale of his soldiers begin to dip while facing that imposing building.

“Blast the door open,” he ordered.

“Sir?” the captain asked in surprise. “We can easily open it without having to resort to such methods.”

Ferris shook his head. “Perhaps, but I’d prefer to do this in the way that is safest for us. We will need to fight to secure her, and I want us to have as much strength as possible for that encounter.”

“...as you say, Sir Felix. Blast it open!”

A second later, another boulder was flying through the air.

It crashed into the building, blowing right past the wooden doors and taking some of the surrounding stone wall with it.

The rumble as the boulder rolled around inside reverberated over the grounds, but with his enhanced hearing, Ferris could also make out screams of pain. Their opponents had been waiting on the other side of the door, likely ready to ambush the soldiers as they entered.

“Alright men, forward!” the captain called out. “Mathias, you and your squad are staying here. Watch the perimeter and don’t let anyone escape, especially not our target!”

A few soldiers began splitting out in groups of two to surround the building as the majority of Ferris’s soldiers moved towards the now-open ‘door’.

Ferris wasn’t in the lead—he wasn’t a combatant, after all—but he was right behind the first wave, the captain and another mage flanking him.

Crusch had been overly protective when assigning him the division. She had been sure to include three mages, one of Earth, one of Wind, and one of Fire.

Ferris was thankful for it now though. Combined with his healing magic to keep the foot soldiers in fighting shape, he was sure that they would be able to take on an opponent with significant numerical superiority.

Almost as soon as they entered the building, the fighting started.

Ferris could hear the clash of metal on metal as his soldier’s blades met the priests’ iron clubs. They hadn’t even waited to see what the soldiers were here for before beginning to attack.

…well, to be fair, Ferris had just thrown a boulder at their door. They probably weren’t in a conversational mood.

“We are Karsten forces acting in service of His Majesty!” the captain shouted over the din. “We have reason to believe a traitor to the kingdom is hiding here. Surrender now!”

If anything, his demand only made the priests fight harder.

They threw themselves at the soldiers, lashing out with a fanatical fervour. It was enough to drive Ferris’s soldiers back, into a rough semi-circle around the hole where the entrance used to be.

Ferris himself hadn’t even entered the building yet. He was stuck at the foot of the stairs leading up to the building, unable to get closer for fear of getting in his men’s way.

He had no combat ability, so all he could do was watch and wait for his soldiers to do what they had trained to do, and interfere only if his skills could be of use.

As he watched, one of the priests stumbled, and the soldier he was fighting took full advantage of the opportunity to cut him down.

The priest fell to the ground, his white robe turning blood-red.

“Bring him to me!” Ferris called out. “Quickly!”

They were enemies only because the priests were under someone else’s control. Fourier wouldn’t want any of them to die.

Two of the soldiers that had been standing in reserve leapt into action, joining the fighting on that side to push the fighting line further into the building, and a third grabbed the fallen priest and dragged him back.

Ferris dashed forward, and activated his healing magic at full force.

The first thing to take care of was the wound. It was an ugly gash, stretching from shoulder to hip. The priest’s rib cage had protected his heart and lungs for the most part, but his stomach had been ruptured, and his intestines were in a terrible shape.

Ferris rushed through the process to make sure the priest’s life wasn’t in danger. It would need more work before he’d truly be safe, but it would do temporarily.

Once that was finished, he spun together his analytical spell, and looked into the man’s brain.

Sure enough, the faint wisps of mana he had started to grow familiar with were exactly where he expected them to be. But for this priest, they were much thicker than the ones that had lain on the rioter, his soldiers, or Ferris himself. He had likely undergone a much more thorough brainwashing process.

Ferris wasted no time trying to analyse it. He fired hooks of mana into the mist, and then tore it apart.

The man jolted, and his eyes opened, his gaze darting every which way.

“What? Wha—? Where am—? What just—?”

“Where is Melty Pristis?” Ferris interrupted.

The man blinked, and tried to focus on Ferris.

“Sir… Sir Felix? What… why are you…?”

His eyes widened, and he sat bolt upright, tearing his wound open again. “The enemy! We’re under attack! Sir Ferris, you have to help—”

“Lie back down!” Ferris ordered, trying to force the priest back onto the ground with one hand, and keeping his insides together with the other. “You and the priests have been mentally affected by the priestess Melty Pristis. Where is she?”

“We were—? No, that can’t be right… We were working for the sake of Lugunica. We had to de— depose…”

He started to go pale, and Ferris didn’t think it was entirely due to the blood loss.

“We tried to depose His Majesty,” he whispered. “What? Why did I—? I would never lift a hand to try and— But I—”

“You were brainwashed!” Ferris explained, finally managing to get him onto his back. “I need you to answer me! Where is Melty?”

For the first time, the priest was able to lock eyes with Ferris. “Melty? I think… she was locked in the dungeons, wasn’t she? But… Why would a priestess be locked in the dungeons?”

His face twisted up in confusion.

“What is happening?” he whispered, still seemingly unable to grasp what Ferris was telling him.

“Good question,” Ferris murmured, then shifted to look up at the man beside him.

“Captain, our target is in the dungeons. It’s probably the most secure part of the building.”

“Not to worry, Sir Felix,” the captain replied. “We’ll be able to secure it. Alright men, forward!”

As the soldiers began to push forward, Ferris finished re-healing the priest’s wounds and got to his feet.

“Just stay there,” he said. “Don’t move, or you’ll reopen your wound again.”

The priest tried to nod, but Ferris had used a lot of his internal mana reserves, so he was barely able to fight off his drowsiness.

His eyes slowly closed, and Ferris turned his attention to the front.

The soldiers had pushed their way forward to the main hall, where a grand melee had started to take place. Many pews had been pushed aside or knocked over, but they were still obstacles, and they broke up the neatly ordered ranks of the soldiers. The chaotic and disorganised way the priests tended to charge at them didn’t help matters.

The captain was furiously shouting orders to try and get the fight back under control, and Ferris wasn’t about to distract him.

He could, however, try and help in his own way.

He darted to and fro, visiting every fallen body he could in order to make sure none were at death’s door. For the fallen priests, he healed them with their own reserves, but for his own fallen soldiers, he used up some of his own mana. That would spare them from the usual post-healing drowsiness, and allow them to get back into the fight in bare minutes.

The process for removing the brainwashing magic wasn’t too time-consuming, but it was complicated enough that Ferris didn’t want to perform it while his soldiers were fighting around him. Any one of them could suffer a grievous wound at any moment, and Ferris wanted to be free to immediately drop everything to address it.

It was nerve-wracking, watching the battle take place. His soldiers were outnumbered, and the priests attacked furiously.

Yet his soldiers still seemed to be winning the battle. There were ten soldiers standing in reserve, swapping into the line of combat when they had a chance to give the others a break. They had managed to clear the pews away from a small area, which let them fight in their preferred combat line.

The intensity of the captain’s orders had gone down somewhat, which Ferris took as a good sign. He wasn’t well-versed enough in battle to estimate the fight on any other grounds.

But perhaps he had relaxed too soon. The priests suddenly surged, pushing the line back.

The captain cursed and barked out another order, “Daryl, stop him!”

The hairs on the back of Ferris’s neck stood up as the mana in the air shifted, then the area behind the priests lit up with red light.

Then the room exploded. Flaming pews were thrown in every direction, and the combat line disintegrated as the fighters were thrown to the ground.

Ferris and the reserves were far enough away that they weren’t caught up in the blast. While the soldiers rushed forward to get their companions out of the wreckage, Ferris ran to the centre of the line, where the soldiers who had taken the brunt of the explosion had fallen.

“Captain?” he called out, already conjuring a healing orb to treat the burns of the soldier in front of him. “What happened?”

“They had a fire mage,” the captain’s voice answered, from not too far away.

Ferris’s eyes flicked to the source, and landed on the man, who was pulling himself into an upright position. He had been standing just behind the line, so was a little better off than the soldiers Feris was treating.

“I’m sorry, Sir Felix,” one of the other soldiers said. “I didn’t notice him until it was too late. It was all I could do to disrupt him before he cast at us.”

“Not your fault, Daryl,” the captain reassured him. “Your job was to watch for those bugs. We didn’t expect a combat mage.”

He turned back to Ferris. “This is Lieutenant Daryl, our wind mage. I’m afraid I’ve lost track of our earth mage.”

“I’m fine,” another voice called out from the right flank. The stone floor on that side of the room had been cracked open, and a wall of scorched earth stood between the soldiers and the source of the blast. Another soldier stepped through the wreckage of the room, slowing to stare down at the captain.

“Casualties are thankfully light. No deaths on our side, and we’ve done basic first aid on the wounded,” he reported. “Sir Felix, would it be within your capabilities to get everyone back into fighting shape?”

Ferris nodded, letting his orb fade as he finished healing the soldiers around him.

“Yes. I’ve still got plenty left in me.”

He paused.

“What about the priests?”

“The mage is dead,” the earth mage responded. “And two others were hit in vital spots by the pews. But the rest appear to be alive. We’re doing first aid, but I need you to look at a handful. Half of them are going to need treatment for their burns, but that can afford to wait.”

Ferris nodded. “Alright. Where do you need me first?”

----------------------------------------

It took a while for Ferris to finish healing everyone. Time seemed to fly by for him, but from the way the captain was pacing, it was taking longer than they’d prefer.

Ferris felt a bit bad that he hadn’t remembered the man’s name. Crusch had probably told him when she had assigned the man as captain of Ferris’s division, but he could sometimes forget unimportant details like that. In his defence, he had a lot of things to keep track of these days.

“I believe we’re ready to move,” the earth mage called out as Ferris finished healing the last soldier.

His magic wouldn’t be as useful if they had to fight bugs, so he was using his mana to fashion handcuffs from the stone of the building, in order to keep the priests contained in case they woke up before Ferris had a chance to remove the brainwashing.

“Excellent,” the captain said. “Have you figured out where the basement is?”

The earth mage nodded, tapping his foot against the stone floor, and Ferris felt the mana in the air shift as he activated his gate. “It’s mostly solid earth underneath us, but there’s some stonework further into the building. I suspect it’s a cellar of some kind.”

“Lead the way,” the captain ordered. “Daryl, you’re our rearguard. Sir Felix, please accompany me.”

Ferris took position beside the captain as they began to move. They were leaving another ten soldiers behind to look after the prisoners, which left only twenty-five in their procession. Ferris was slightly nervous about that, but given the amount of priests they had already faced, it was likely that there were few enemies left in the building. Would twenty-five men even be able to manoeuvre in the tight space of an underground cellar?

They walked through empty corridors, which Ferris vaguely recognised. He had not paid particular attention to the lower floors on his first visit, so he didn’t know exactly where they were going, but the earth mage seemed confident.

They reached a small, nondescript door at the end of one hallway. It didn’t stand out at all. Ferris would have assumed it was just a broom cupboard. But when the earth mage pulled the door open, it revealed a dark tunnel, with stairs leading downwards.

“Tch,” the captain let out. “It’s too small to fight properly. If we get ambushed—”

“I’ll go first,” one of the soldiers spoke up. He wasn’t one of the mages, nor did he have the markings of a lieutenant on his armour, Ferris noted. He was just one of the ordinary soldiers. Just another person Ferris hadn’t learned the name of.

He was unstrapping his shield, and pulling out a much smaller one, a buckler.

“I’ve got some training with knife-fights,” the soldier continued. “I can take point, and Lieutenant Daryl can focus on any bugs that appear.”

The captain considered it for a moment, then nodded. “Good suggestion. After Daryl, I’ll go, then—”

“Me,” Ferris interjected. “There isn’t going to be much space down there, and I need to be present to heal any that fall.”

The captain hesitated, then nodded, the reluctance clear on his face. “Very well, Sir Felix. Daryl, pick three of your best to bring up the rear. Harold, you watch our backs. If you sense anything, send someone down.”

The earth mage nodded.

Ah, so he’s Harold, Ferris thought, filing that information away. Now all he needed was for someone to tell him the captain’s name again.

It took a moment for the soldiers to finish switching out their shields, and for the lead soldier to strap a lagmite lanturn to the front of his shield.

They moved slowly down the tunnel, leaving enough space between them so they could hurriedly take a step back if necessary. As Ferris was fourth in the line, he couldn’t see anything out in front of the line.

But there weren’t any shouts yet, and he could still see the flickering shadows cast by the light.

“I’ve reached the bottom of the stairs,” the lead soldier reported. “There’s a door here. Not enough room to fit another person, I’ll have to open it myself.”

“Daryl, stand right behind him,” the captain ordered. “If you see something, blast it. I don’t care if it’s just a shadow, I’m not losing a man in an obvious ambush point like this.”

There was some shuffling from the front of the line, then Ferris heard the distinctive click of a door handle being pushed down.

He waited, ears straining to pick up any sound, but he could only hear the quiet breaths of his soldiers.

But… perhaps he was simply imagining it, but he thought he could make out another sound, the faint buzzing of tiny wings.

“The door is clear,” the lead soldier called up. “The room looks wide, like a hallway. There’s a few more doors, but I don’t see anyone.”

“Clear the doorway, but don’t advance yet,” the captain ordered. “Wait for all of us.”

They slowly filed into the room, the other soldiers activating lagmite lanterns as they entered, attaching them to their belts to keep their hands free.

The captain handed one of the glowing crystals to Ferris, and he awkwardly copied their actions to attach it to his side. It was rare that he appreciated his knight uniform, but this was one of those times. His usual dress didn’t have a belt he could attach random objects to. Such was the price of cuteness.

It was a rather short corridor, but spacious enough that three soldiers could walk abreast. Possibly it was intended as an additional storage room if the others were already full. Eight solid wooden doors lined the walls, three on each side, and two on the far side.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“We’ll search them one by one,” the captain ordered. “I’ll check the first one. Daryl, back me up.”

The two strode towards the first door on the left, letting the soldier previously on point relax for a moment while keeping watch with the other three from the rearguard.

Ferris tilted his head, listening intently. The sound of footsteps of the soldier’s boots on the pavement was quiet, but it still did much to drown out anything else.

But as the captain reached the door, and the footsteps stopped momentarily, Ferris heard it again. The buzzing, skittering, and clicking of countless insects.

“Wait,” he said, and the soldiers went still, one of the captain’s hands already on the door handle.

“I don’t hear anything from most of these rooms,” Ferris explained in a whisper, directing his attention to a single door on the far wall.

“Just that one. I can hear insects. It sounds like a lot of them.”

The soldiers didn’t even wait for orders. They instantly moved to put themselves between Ferris and the door, though against a swarm, there would be little they could actually do to defend him.

“We’ll start there, then,” the captain said. “I’ll open it. Daryl, behind me, and…”

He paused, face heavy with apprehension, until…

“Sir Felix, I would appreciate it if you were out in front as well. Our hearing isn’t as good, and we may need your healing immediately.”

“Sure. I can do that,” Ferris said, trying to keep his tone light, but it fell a bit flat in the dark and claustrophobic room they stood in.

They moved to the door, stepping as lightly as possible to avoid making too much noise. Ferris thought it was likely that anyone inside would already have heard them from the creaking the door made as they entered, but if they were quiet, it would be easier for him to hear them.

The captain placed one hand on the door handle, and activated a second lagmite lantern with his other.

He nodded to Daryl, and the hair on the back of Ferris’s neck stood up as the Wind mage activated his gate, conjuring a small spiral of air in his hand, ready to cast it.

Then the captain threw open the door, and tossed the lagmite in, almost blinding Ferris as it brightened.

He heard a flurry of wings and chirping and Daryl pointed his hand into the open doorway and—

The buzzing quieted back down. It was still louder than it had been, especially now that Ferris could hear it properly without a door in the way, but aside from that?

“Um… Captain?” Daryl asked, eyes wide. He was the only one who could fully see inside the room. Both of his hands were raised, wind swirling around them, ready to fire a powerful spell at a moment’s notice. But he had held back.

“I can see… someone. A captive. I can’t clear them without killing them.”

A captive? Damnit, the priest didn’t mention that!

Ferris shifted to stand beside the wind mage, and peered into the room.

It was like something out of a nightmare. The ground, walls, and ceiling were covered with insects. They were dyed in myriad colours, like a set of exotic carpets that shimmered as the insects moved.

Only two things stood out about the room. The first was the small circle around the lagmite lantern, a clearing the insects had fled to avoid the thrown object.

The other was a humanoid figure, sitting up straight in the middle of the room.

Said figure was on their knees, almost as if in prayer, but all other details about them were obscured.

Even Ferris’s eyesight, enhanced by his demi-human blood, couldn’t pick out more than a few details.

The figure was covered from head to toe in the bugs. Wasps crawled up and down the arms, beetles fought battles amongst themselves on the lap, and spiders wove webs between the head and shoulders, crawling over the face with long, hairy legs.

But Ferris was able to make out the blues of the robes the figure was wearing, and as a particularly large spider moved up her face, he was able to see one of her terrified amber eyes.

“That’s our target,” he whispered. He didn’t know why he was trying to keep his voice down. If the swarm was going to attack, they would have done so already.

“Is that so?” the captain asked, peering into the room from his side of the door. “That’s going to be troublesome. Are you able to tell from this distance whether we need her alive?”

Ferris thought he heard a low whimper from Melty, but it was impossible to tell over the droning of the bugs.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not until I can get close to her, and even then, this might not be something I can forcibly remove.”

The captain nodded. “I feared as much.”

He glanced down, eyes tracing the line of bugs that slowly crept amongst each other. The door opened inwards, which had crushed more than a few of them and pushed many more away from the entrance, but now that it was open, the bugs had moved back to fill in the space. But they hadn’t moved further.

“Can they not leave the room?” Ferris wondered. The bugs were very clearly avoiding moving out of the room, as if there was an invisible door still closed and sealing them in.

“It appears not,” the captain replied, kneeling down to get a better look at them. “Perhaps if I…”

He trailed off, going completely still.

But before Ferris could ask what was wrong, he moved.

His hand dove into the swarm, seizing a beetle and snapping back out again.

None of the bugs in the room reacted, except to fill in the space the beetle had once occupied.

“Captain!?” Daryl cried out. “You should have warned me if you were going to do something like that. What if they had attacked?”

“Ah, sorry, sorry,” the captain said. “But look. They’re not attacking. But this one…”

He got back to his feet, lifting his hand to show the two of them his prize.

It was a rather ordinary—if somewhat large—beetle, one Ferris didn’t recognise. Its legs were waving wildly, as it struggled in vain to free itself from the captain’s grasp.

“I was able to take it out of the room. So it’s not magic keeping them in.”

He loosened his grasp, and the beetle immediately opened its carapace and extended its wings, flying right back into the room, headed for one of the walls.

“No,” Ferris agreed. “Not magic. Then… have they been ordered to remain in the room? That’s why they don’t want to leave?”

“It seems strange that they would not also be ordered to attack intruders,” the captain said. “But insects aren’t the most intelligent things. Perhaps they cannot remember too many instructions at once.”

“Or perhaps the Insect Controller simply never imagined that we would reach this place,” Ferris finished. “In any case, they must not have noticed us yet, or they’d have given new orders to swarm us.”

“Do you have any idea what would alert the controller?” the captain asked.

“Nothing,” Ferris said, glancing over the room. The bugs were still calm, but who knew how long that would last?

“But they are able to see what the bugs see to an extent. Lady Crusch was certain of that. If a lot of them die at once, they might take notice. If they decide to check up on Melty, they’re going to see us pretty quickly.”

“Um…” Daryl spoke up hesitantly. “I have an idea, Sir Felix. They don’t seem to be hostile at the moment, so maybe I could walk through them? Then I could grab the target and protect her, and kill the rest with a Fura?”

“That’s awfully risky,” the captain said. “If they decide to attack while you’re in there, we won’t have a way to defend ourselves. And how will you protect the target when they’re already on top of her?”

“I could use a wind screen to tear them off her,” Daryl responded. “But if they decide to attack…”

“We’ll do it,” Ferris decided.

The two of them looked at him with wide eyes. “Sir Felix? Do you have a plan?”

“If they attack us, I can keep the three of us healed enough to run, at least until we get upstairs. They’ll be restrained by the doors if we close them behind us, so even if they swarm, we’ll be able to get away.”

He turned to the other soldiers they had brought down with them, and waved a hand towards the stairs.

“Go back up. I won’t be able to heal all of us if it comes down to it.”

He didn’t need to tell them twice. They immediately moved to the stairs and began ascending.

“I see. Good plan,” the captain said, glancing back into the room.

He hesitated, then sighed. “I suppose I should go as well. I won’t be of much help to you if the worst comes to worst. Daryl, will you be able to carry the target alone if it becomes necessary?”

The Wind mage nodded. “Yes, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Very well then,” the captain said, then placed a hand on Daryl’s shoulder. Ferris supposed it was supposed to look like a gesture of support, but he could see the captain lean in, and heard him whisper under his breath, “Sir Felix is your first priority. Make sure he gets out alive.”

Ferris took a breath to voice a disagreement—after all, with his healing magic, he would be able to keep himself alive long enough to get back to the others—but he let it go. Crusch had probably already given orders to that effect, and though he technically outranked them, it would be a bad look to go against her orders. He would just have to focus on getting them all out alive.

The captain left, and the final duo waited for a minute, giving time for him to reach the top of the stairs.

“Ready?” Ferris asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Daryl answered.

He summoned up faint swirls of wind around his feet, and then slowly extended a foot into the room.

The captain’s hand had briefly entered the room to steal the beetle, but that had been so fast that it was unlikely that the insects would have registered it. This was the first time someone was entering the room properly, and Ferris remained tense, waiting for the bugs to react.

But they made no major movements. As Daryl’s foot came down, the wind gently brushed the bugs under his boot aside, clearing a small area.

Then he took another step. And another.

It took five steps to reach the middle of the room, where Melty still sat, silent and completely still.

Daryl knelt down beside her, and extended both hands around her figure, ready to grab her and run.

Then he whispered something, so quietly that even Ferris couldn’t make it out. But he could make out its effects.

The air whirled around Melty, and every bug crawling on her was violently thrown off, catapulted into the walls.

Exactly as they had feared, the insects’ behaviour instantly changed, unfurling their wings and charging at the mage and priestess.

Daryl seized Melty and bolted, wind exploding around him to clear the path between him and the door.

Ferris reached in to grab the door handle, and as the wind mage ran past, he slammed it closed.

That would have been enough to stop a person, but the insects were too small to be stopped by such an obstacle. They crawled through the gap between the floor and the door, flying after Daryl as he ran.

Ferris turned to chase after them, and then felt a prickling on his legs, then sudden pain.

He instantly called upon his gate, circulating mana down to his legs, and he glanced down.

Beetles had landed all over him, but it seemed some had managed to crawl up the trousers that were part of his knight uniform. He couldn’t see them, but he could feel their jaws tearing through his skin.

He bit back a hiss, and continued running, using his magic to tone down the pain he was feeling from them. He couldn’t afford to be incapacitated by something as simple as pain at this point.

He wasn’t encumbered with extra weight, so he was able to catch up to Daryl on the stairwell.

Before Ferris had even reached the wind mage’s side, he had conjured a healing orb, and once he was within reach, he started shoving mana into the man, not bothering to try and direct it. It would be better to try and rely on the man’s own body’s judgement of what was important rather than get distracted with trying to figure out where he should heal first.

It was a little more wasteful, but it allowed them both to keep running.

“She’s been bitten as well,” Daryl ground out, his teeth clenched tightly. There were even more bugs crawling over him than there were on Ferris. His armour was doing something to help keep them off, but they were small, and more than capable of crawling under his protection.

“Can it wait?” Ferris asked, sending another surge of mana though his own body as he felt bites on his arms and hands.

“I don’t think so. Some of the spiders stayed on her, she’s poisoned.”

Ferris cursed and conjured a second healing orb with his other hand, extending another tendril of mana to try and keep their prisoner alive.

Immediately after doing so, something felt… wrong. The feedback he was getting from the magic he used on her was distorted. Something about how her internal mana flowed deviated from normal. But he didn’t have time to dwell on things like that while running. He shoved mana through their connection and tried to direct it to the liver. That was the quickest way to try and alleviate poison.

He saw light up ahead, and then they burst out into the hallway of the church proper.

He heard a slam, and Ferris turned to see the captain shoving the door closed.

Harold the earth mage shoved the air, and the stone under their feet cracked and lifted up, slamming into the portal and sealing even the smallest holes closed.

Daryl stumbled to the ground, managing to lay Melty down, and then his mana surged.

“Fura!” he shouted, and the insects crawling over him were blown away, causing some of the soldiers to duck wildly to avoid them.

Ferris himself had to use the far less dignified method of immobilising them one at a time with his magic, and picking them off his body. It was troublesome, but now that there wasn’t a swarm chasing him, it was easy enough.

Once he picked off the last of them and crushed it underfoot, he turned to look at their captive.

Melty was laying on the floor, her eyes closed and her body tense, a trace of pain on her features. Ferris hadn’t investigated the effects of the poisons she had been bitten with, but he had no doubt that it was painful.

But first…

“Daryl, let me see you,” he said, reaching out for the wind mage.

“Sir Felix?” he asked. “I’m fine, you’ve already healed all the bites. I don’t think I was poisoned either…”

“It’s not about that,” Ferris said, placing both hands onto his temples. “You were close to her, she might have used her ability on you.”

That caused the soldier to freeze, evidently he hadn’t considered the possibility. It took a few moments for Ferris to spin up his spells and peer through the mage’s head, then he nodded, satisfied.

“You’re clear,” he said, finally turning his full attention to the priestess.

He conjured a healing orb, and started sending tendrils of mana into her organs, focusing on the liver and heart, to try and remove the poisons.

Once again, he was struck by a certain wrongness, an imbalance that he was unfamiliar with. It was like she was suffering from a rare disease, but it was unlike any that he had ever encountered.

Is it her ability? he wondered as he purified the poison in her blood, and moved on to healing the damage it had already done.

But as he moved on from her vital organs, he realised he was mistaken. Her mana flows were distorted for a very simple reason.

Her stomach had been sealed shut.

Or rather, her oesophagus had been, right behind her throat. There was an extra blob of flesh in the way, a growth that was far too tame and orderly to have been natural.

And yet, it did not appear to have been formed by way of healing magic. There was too little interference with the surrounding flesh, too little discord in her body. Whoever had altered her body in such a way must have been a master water mage, equal to—or perhaps exceeding—Ferris himself.

That fact sent a shiver down his spine, but he tried to ignore it. Worrying about a phantom healer wasn’t going to help them at this point. He would inform Fourier, and they would plan accordingly.

Thus, he cleared out the last of the poison, and withdrew his hands.

Melty’s eyes blinked open, and she stared up at the ceiling. It seemed to take a moment for her to fully remember where she was, but when she did, she shivered, and curled her body up.

“Priestess Melty Pristis,” Ferris began, trying and failing to make his voice sound as authoritative as possible. He really should have left this part to the captain. But stopping now would ruin the effect, so he’d just have to power through.

“You are suspected of being involved in the riots and disorder in this city. Do you have anything to say in your defence?”

The priestess slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, and then looked up at Ferris, a flash of recognition going through her eyes.

“You… you’re one of the knights that was guarding the prince. The one I…”

She broke off, her face going pale.

“You’re— You healed me! I ordered you not to! But how—?”

“You used some kind of strange magic or divine protection to try and prevent me from doing so, didn’t you?” Ferris asked. “It’s the same magic you’ve been using to start the riots in the city, isn’t it?”

Melty was shivering, shaking her head from side to side. “No, no, no,” she repeated, her hands coming up to cover her face. “I didn’t— This wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s not my fault!”

Ferris listened to her ramblings for a moment, but it soon became clear that he’d get nothing useful out of it. She seemed to be going into shock, so great was the mental distress she appeared to be in. He might have been able to use his healing magic to force some semblance of sanity on her, but altering the mind was risky, and they might lose access to everything she knew.

He grit his teeth and knelt down, bringing his face closer to hers.

“Answer me. Why have you been acting against His Majesty? Who are you working with? What are you after?”

“I don’t know!” Melty denied instantly. She was quite obviously lying, but if she was going to be obstinate, getting information out of her was going to be a lot harder. They’d likely need to bring in the help of the few torturer’s in the kingdom’s employ. But that would take time.

“I don’t— I wasn’t—” Melty continued, her breath ragged with fear.

But it wasn’t fear of Ferris or his soldiers, he noticed. If she had been afraid of them, she would keep her eyes locked onto them, and tried to cower down away from them.

But she had her face in her hands, and she didn’t flinch at the soft clinking of his soldier’s armour as they moved.

Which means…? Is she more afraid of her own side than she is of us?

It seemed to match her words. She was insisting on her innocence, which was obviously false if she had intended the words for Ferris, but if she had been vocalising her inner thoughts, then perhaps she had been speaking the words she wanted to say to her ‘allies’.

“You needn’t fear reprisal,” Ferris said, trying to speak loudly enough that he’d pierce the fugue she was entering. He didn’t want to have to resort to healing magic, but it looked like he might—

Melty’s head snapped up, and her eyes locked onto his.

Several emotions were warring on her face. Fear, desperation, anguish, just to name a few. Her body tensed, as if to launch herself at him, but Ferris’s soldiers spotted the action long before she could try.

They stepped in front of him, swords crossing between her and Ferris to block her path.

Such a display should have been enough to cow her, given their estimation of her strength, but Ferris saw the way her eyes went to one of the soldiers. It wasn’t a reflexive jolt of alarm, but a shifting of her target.

“Get back!” Ferris shouted, but Melty had already begun to move.

She launched herself at the soldier, a blue orb materialising in her hand, reaching out for the soldier…

Who promptly sidestepped, allowing Melty to go sailing past, stumbling and falling back to the floor, her magic winking out.

Ferris blinked, slowly letting his arm fall back to his side. When he had seen the blue glow of a healing spell, he had instinctively spun up his own version to heal whatever damage she had intended to do, but it appeared that would be unnecessary.

Melty lifted herself up, drops of blood dripping from her nose, tears of frustration streaming from her eyes.

But she still had that look. Desperation, fear, and perhaps something else?

No, Ferris was forced to admit to himself. He knew what that look was. He had seen it on his own face often enough, while he had been starting his daily routine and schooling his expression into neutrality, back when Fourier had been afflicted by the curse, when it looked like there wasn’t any hope of saving him.

It was despair.

Melty readied herself to attack again, but before she could, Ferris reached out and forced a surge of healing magic though her, cutting her control of her limbs and causing her to slump back to the ground.

She tried to fight off his control with her own magic, but her gate was pitiful in comparison to Ferris’s. After a moment’s struggle, she stopped, letting her head hang.

Ferris knelt by her side, watching out for any more tricks she tried to pull, but his mind was turning everything he knew over, trying to figure her out.

She was outmatched, and she knew it, but she still tried to attack us. So… perhaps she doesn’t want to be captured alive? It can’t be that she’s afraid of torture, can it? If it was that, she’d be talking now to try and avoid it. Perhaps she’s not confident we can protect her from her allies?

“Hey… Sir knight?” Melty asked, her voice tinged with defeat, speaking so softly that he doubted anyone else would be able to make it out.

“Yes?”

Melty hesitated, the few parts of her body that she still had control of tensing up as she reconsidered, but after a moment, that tension left her, and she brought her head up to meet Ferris’s eyes.

“My family are hostages,” she said. “They’re being held, and if I mess up, they’re going to be… they’re going to…”

She shivered, hurrying on, seemingly in an effort to avoid thinking about it. “If you’ve found me, that means I’ve already failed. I can’t… I can’t let them be hurt! So…”

She trailed off, struggling to find words. Her lips trembled, and she finally asked, “Please help me.”

Ferris remained silent for a moment. Part of him felt she was just making excuses for her actions, but… She wasn’t asking for forgiveness. She wasn’t trying to avoid punishment. She was turning to the last option available to her, the ones who had been her enemies, and asking for help.

As one of Fourier’s knights, he could only answer that request in one way.

“Of course,” he said. “We will rescue them.”

“I can help you as well,” Melty continued. “I can tell you about their plans, and I can disable my Evil Eye, I can…”

She paused, then blinked, eyes refocusing on Ferris.

“...what?”

“We will rescue them,” Ferris repeated. “His Majesty, King Fourier, would never let innocent people suffer as captives. So long as he reigns, Lugunica will always offer aid to the downtrodden.”

Melty gaped up at him, a look of disbelief on her face, which slowly was replaced by hope.

“Oh,” she let out softly.

She looked down, eyes landing on her hands, which lay immobilised on her lap.

“Can I have my hands back?” she asked.

Ferris felt himself bristling at the request, unsure if she was going to try and attack again… but Fourier would want him to trust her.

He held back a sigh. His king was a very troublesome individual.

With an extended hand, and undid the effect of his magic, returning full control of her body.

It took a moment for the magic to wear off, and when it did, Melty lifted her hands so she could look at her palms. She stared at them for a moment, then let them drop, some of the strength seeming to leave her body.

Ferris drew back. He couldn’t sense that she had done anything, but given the way her ability had worked before, that was no indication of anything.

“What did you do?” he asked, simultaneously spinning up an investigation spell. A quick flurry of needles into his own mind indicated he wasn’t under the effects of her ability, but perhaps she had—

“I let them go,” Melty said quietly. She let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh, as if she couldn’t quite believe her own actions.

“You… what?”

“I let them go,” Melty repeated. “Everyone I’ve used my ability on, in this city, in this country, across the entire world. I’ve let them go.”

Ferris blinked, at first not fully grasping her words, his eyes slowly widening as he took them in.

“You mean… you’ve ended the riots? Just like that?”

Ferris had hoped that they would be able to cut off their enemy’s mind control by finding Melty, but a part of him had feared that they were going to have to cure the victims one at a time.

“No,” Melty said with a shake of her head. “While I had control of well over a thousand people, the riot has spread to the entire city. Even now that my Evil Eye of Indoctrination has no hold on them, the riot will keep going for some time.”

Evil Eye?

That name stirred some memories in Ferris’s head, but he couldn’t recall much. They were a demi-human tribe from Vollachia, weren’t they? With abilities so terrifying and unnatural that the Empire had worked to wipe them all out.

Clearly, they hadn’t succeeded.

Melty didn’t seem to notice Ferris’s thoughts.

Closing her eyes, her smile twisted, becoming bitter as she continued.

“Now that I’ve let them go, most of the instigators will back down and if the people handling the riot are anything like you, I have little doubt that they’ll manage to reassure the people. Deep down, most of them don’t really blame the prince, they’re just scared.”

If she was claiming to have released all of her victims, there remained at least one easy way to test it, but targeting those further away would be more difficult meaning she could have only released those close.

Still…

“Captain, can you watch her for a minute? I need to check on our prisoners.” Ferris said, already turning and running away. Reaching the nearest one, he quickly examined him for the foreign mana, and found it dispersing naturally, as it came apart at the seams.

At this rate of decay, the mana should clear out completely in minutes, meaning he shouldn’t have to worry about her re-establishing her control.

Running back, he gestured towards the captain who shrugged, and waved over one of the soldiers, who handed him the squad’s conversing mirror.

He stepped away from the group to try and report back to Crusch’s forces. If what Melty had done had affected the entire city, then they’d know soon. It would also be best if Crusch was aware of the possibility, so she could take advantage of the situation when the rioters started dispersing across the city.

Ferris turned back to Melty, and after a moment’s hesitation, extended a hand to help her to her feet. He wouldn’t trust her enough to let her get near any of his soldiers—there was still the possibility that her words and actions were just a ploy—but he was confident that he would be able to resist any magic she used on him, now that he knew what to expect.

Melty didn’t seem to notice his internal wariness. She took his proffered hand, and lifted herself off the ground.

“Sir Felix, I’ve reported our findings here,” the captain said, striding back to the group. “Lady Crusch is currently fighting, so I was not able to speak to her directly, but I’ve been assured she’ll know soon. The swarms are out in force, but they’re not managing to get past our mages.”

“Good,” Ferris responded. “We’ll return to our designated area, and help calm things down.”

He turned to Melty. “You can tell us more about the assassin on the way…”

But Melty wasn’t listening. She was looking at the captain, her brow tense.

“You… you do know that finishing off the Royal Family was our primary objective?” she asked. “Our only objective, really.”

“Yes, we understand that,” Ferris said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. It wasn’t pleasant to think of all the effort their enemies were expending just to kill Fourier. “Are you saying this attack on the city is just a distraction? Like the fire was? We’ve already taken precautions for that. His Majesty is being protected by our Finest Knight.”

Melty remained silent for a moment, then said, “Finest… you mean the one that fought Elsa? She was supposed to kill the Prince then, but she failed. I didn’t think she was going to be relied on anymore…”

She trailed off, then looked back at Ferris.

“What about the Mana Wasps? Where are they?”

Ferris tilted his head. “Mana Wasps?”

Melty hesitated. “Ah, that’s what they’re named. They’re special insects, created to fight people. They’re a lot more responsive than regular insects, and a lot tougher. Normal mages won’t be able to fight off swarms of them.”

“So… they’re an elite force of insects?” Ferris asked, feeling a chill go down his back. He flicked his head to the captain, who nodded and raised the mirror again.

“We’ll keep an eye out for them,” he continued. “But so far our mages have been able to keep the swarms at bay.”

Melty shook her head. “No, I don’t think they’re going to be used against the city. They’re her best forces, she isn’t going to leave them behind.”

“She?” Ferris asked, but Melty seemed not to hear him, her eyes staring right through him as her mind whirred.

“...there are other knights guarding the Prince, aren’t there?” she asked. “Not just the Finest Knight, who Elsa is going after, but other knights who could defend him?”

Ferris nodded. “Of course. We wouldn’t risk leaving him unguarded.”

Her eyes refocused on him, and her uneasiness had grown somewhat more frantic.

“Then, what’s the plan for the wasps? How will you defend him from them?”

“Eh?” Ferris let out, taken aback by her sudden forcefulness. “There are several knights who can use magic, they’ll be able to stop them from getting close—”

“No!” Melty shook her head. “Some will get through! Some will get to him! How are you going to protect him from that?”

Ferris hesitated. “...if it’s only a few, then the healers will be able to keep him safe…”

He trailed off as he watched Melty’s face go pale.

“You… you don’t know,” she said. “You haven’t seen them… that must be why she brought him. She didn’t want you to know about…”

“Who?” Ferris asked. “Who are you talking about?”

But whoever Melty was talking about, she didn’t seem to think clarifying was the most important part of what she was saying.

“Wasps usually carry poison, but the Mana Wasps are different. They can carry any liquid to use for injection.”

“...like… a stronger poison?” Ferris asked.

Melty shook her head. “No, like blood!”

Blood?

The thought of a swarm of insects fighting through the palace just to try and give Fourier a blood transfusion would have been an amusing thought as a hypothetical, but it was anything but with how desperate Melty looked.

And there was something else as well. A chill in Ferris’s bones, the way his breath was picking up as he thought of the significance of blood being used as a weapon.

Who else did he know who had used blood to bring harm? Who had shown him the true face of the most disgusting of magics?

Unbidden, the image of a small mewling kitten—covered in splotches of red—rose to his mind.

“She’s going to curse him!” Melty cried out with growing hysteria. “You know about the curses, don’t you!? That’s her goal!”

It took a moment for Melty’s words to register. They were so horrible, he didn’t want to accept them.

But once he did, he turned on the spot, and started running.