The day was dreadfully humdrum, as it happened. It was Selene Day, which meant no Alchemy classes for poor old me. Instead, it was the usual drudgery of spell craft theories. When lunchtime finally rolled around, I realised I'd not brought a morsel with me. I figured, if anything significant were to happen, it could jolly well occur at any time. So, why bother? A lapse in judgment, perhaps.
My stomach let out a rather disagreeable grumble. Clearly, the morning's soup and bread were insufficient. Maybe a pit stop at the market stalls on the way home would be in order. I had plenty of allowance left, even after splurging on those alchemy ingredients yesterday.
Nevertheless, I made my way to the Great Hall, where students congregated to enjoy their lunch break, merrily chattering away with their friends. The hall was abuzz with activity, the scent of various meals mingling in the air, laughter echoing off the stone walls. It wasn't like I was there for the camaraderie. Friends were a luxury I didn't possess. My sole intent was to eavesdrop, to catch wind of any rumours that might be swirling about.
I didn't have to twiddle my thumbs for long. The whole town was abuzz, practically bursting at the seams with chatter. Everyone seemed to have their knickers in a twist, and I could feel a trickle of sweat starting to form on my brow.
"Of course, it's got to be a demon!"
"My father reckons someone opened the gates of hell."
"I doubt it was hell—my brother's a guard in Alcor! It was an AstralBeast!"
"No, no, no! I'm telling you, it must be something from beyond the Parda. Hell isn't even in the realms Parda governs!"
They were all on their own peculiar tangents, each theory more outrageous than the last, but one thing was clear: they knew someone had tampered with Parda and performed a summoning. That was enough for me to realise my ritual hadn't been as secret as I'd hoped.
Judging by the way everyone was carrying on, it was a top-tier threat. Hence the influx of Inquisitors and Adventurers from Alcor. So, all those people I'd seen milling about the market square were actually here because of my little midnight mischief.
Was this it then? Was I about to be nabbed and carted off to some dreary dungeon in the capital? Blimey, that was a terrifying prospect. But it didn't seem like anyone was on to me just yet.
I'd better tell Barn to stay hidden. If anyone high up caught even a whiff of his power, we'd be in deep trouble. Lotte had warned me, mana and chaos have distinct properties and signatures, after all.
I needed to play it cool. So, I made my way back to the classroom. Just an ordinary, magicless girl with absolutely nothing to do with the bizarre summoning in the forest last night!
The school day meandered along like a sluggish river, my nerves jangling and perspiration flowing like the Thames. Thankfully, nothing particularly noteworthy occurred. No one swooped in to accuse me of heresy or cart me off. Not a soul even acknowledged my existence, which was a small blessing.
Elise and her merry band of miscreants seemed to have taken the day off from tormenting me. Maybe they felt a pang of mercy after yesterday's antics. But then, the memory of those slimy stains on my seat and my mysteriously vanished bag soured my stomach. It wouldn't do to get complacent. Vigilance was my only friend until I was safely beyond the school gates.
As soon as the final bell tolled, I was off like a shot, darting through the halls and out into freedom. My stomach reminded me with a growl that sustenance was needed. The market lay conveniently along my route home, so I made a beeline for it.
The bustling stalls came into view, alive with their usual energy. I had my heart set on some garlic butter roasted mushrooms today. The very thought of their rich, savoury taste made my mouth water, and I hastily wiped the drool away with my sleeve. I spotted the stall and made my way towards it.
Just then, a grip like a vice clamped down on me. I hadn't even clocked the narrow alley next to the stall until it was too late. A hand, as unyielding as iron, gagged my mouth, while another latched onto my arm, yanking me into the shadows. I thrashed, tried to scream, anything—but his strength was something else entirely. Must be a higher-core warrior.
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Something tickled my wrist. Three clacks of a skeletal jaw echoed. Barn. The question was simple.
"Kill?"
I gave a slow shake of my head, hoping Barn could see it. Whatever this man was up to, he hadn't actually hurt me. Yet. But I had no clue where he was taking me.
Barn must've got the message because my captor didn't drop dead on the spot. Still, I had to act, get some intel. Without a second thought, I bit down on the hand silencing me with all the force my jaw could muster. A startled yelp escaped him as he flung me away like an unwanted doll.
The force of it was like being hit by a runaway Manaroe. But just as I was about to crash into the wall, an invisible cushion of force stopped me, turning what could've shattered ribs into a harmless thud.
"Blasted harlot!" he bellowed with a deep voice.
Finally, I got a good look at him. The man was clad in black plate armour, his face obscured by a plain black mask etched with peculiar carvings. Tall and imposing, he seemed even more formidable encased in that armour. His movements were deliberate; clearly, this wasn't his first foray into roughhousing. The armour, while a tad scuffed, gleamed with the polish of meticulous care.
He now inspected the wound on his hand where my teeth had found purchase. I watched, bemused, as the bleeding ceased and the flesh knit itself back together. Though his mask betrayed no emotion, I could feel his ire simmering beneath it.
"Well, that was quite the spectacle," I quipped, trying to sound more confident than I felt. Barn was with me, so I ought to be brimming with confidence. Still, I was sweating buckets while putting on a façade of invulnerability as I stood up and flashed him a cheeky grin. "Fancy telling me where you're taking me?"
The man tilted his head slightly, silent for a moment, perhaps surprised that I was standing so sprightly after the wallop he'd given me. Though I still couldn't see his expression, the carvings on his mask lent him an almost eerie appearance. "You've got some nerve, little abomination." He took a step closer, his armoured boots clanking on the floor. "Tell me, do you know why I've brought you here?"
I sure didn't. But I knew he wasn't here to punish me for my ritual fiasco. Their arrest would have been rather official. No, this was something else. And the way he used the word 'abomination.' Why did I have a bad feeling about it all.
"Well, it wasn't for the delightful conversation, I presume," I drawled, trying to keep my tone light. "So, why don't you enlighten me?"
He didn't seem to be keen on that. "Information told us of a meek little half beastie. Seemed like that wasn't the case. Different, quite feisty at that."
"Feisty, am I?" I chuckled, "One does try. But really, what's the game here? Dragging me to this dreary place only to stand around in that ghastly armour, tossing out vague threats?"
He didn't even acknowledge my words, and his tone was dreadfully condescending, the sort of way one addresses an errant child. "Hmm, snapping a few of your bones wouldn't be too much trouble if it shuts that foul mouth of yours."
That was quite the miscalculation on his part. Screaming louder tends to follow pain! Well, blow me down, this was not going to plan. However, I did glean some insights from his ramblings. Firstly, this wasn't a random ransom job; he had prior information on me. Secondly, he used 'they,' so he wasn't acting alone. Were his cohorts nearby?
"I would think twice before doing anything hasty." Perhaps not the best choice of words, as he vanished in a blink and I felt a hand clamp around my throat. The grip should have been bone-crushing, yet a thin veil of energy cushioned his hold.
He paused, trying to tighten his grip, but it didn't work. It was increasingly vexing not to see his expression. How else could I gauge his thoughts?
I stared him down and flashed a grin, hoping for a reaction.
What I didn't anticipate was the sudden appearance of a dagger.
My grin vanished. "What the devil are you playing at?"
"You're a magicless freak. I don't know what trickery you're using. An artefact, perhaps? That would explain why you were unscathed when I tossed you earlier." He started slashing through my clothes. "Where are you hiding it?"
"Stop it! You bloody bastard! What do you think you're accomplishing? I don't have any artefact!"
But he didn't cease his prying. His knife continued its little dance, incessant, as he scoured for that blasted artifact that didn't exist. But then, his blade grazed my skin, drawing a trifling trickle of blood from my torso.
In that very instant, the air turned frightfully cold. I knew Barn had a true form, vastly different from the scrawny serpent he usually appeared as, one I had glimpsed in a dream when Lotte had confronted him. I could sense the ominous shadow looming behind me once more. The same colossal, foreboding figure. Something in my very marrow whispered that I absolutely did not want to turn and face him in this guise.
The blighter halted his frenzied carving and looked past me. He froze on the spot. No, not quite; his hands were trembling ever so slightly, the knife poised in mid-air, as if he couldn't muster the will to move it an inch further.
There came three slow, sinister clacks from behind me. And then, just like that, the fellow was no more. Vanished where he stood, it all transpired in a mere blink of an eye. One moment he was there, the next, only his hand remained, hanging grotesquely near my throat, while the rest of him vanished entirely. Not even afforded the courtesy of a scream. The stone floor beneath me bore witness to a different story that might haunt my coming thoughts, stained red like some peculiar herbal paste, with a few crimson droplets even besmirching my clothes.
For a moment, I was completely gobsmacked. The shadow behind me disappeared just as Barn scampered over my wrist. I glanced at him; his painted eyes were wide, clearly begging for some form of praise. Three spine-chilling clacks echoed as he snapped his jaw.
'Did I do well?'
I didn't answer. My gaze was fixed on the crimson smear on the pavement, struggling to suppress the reality of what had just occurred. I had always told him not to kill anyone unless they actually harmed me, but the instant the knife drew blood, the condition was met.
Still in a daze, I gave Barn a thumbs up. I wasn't sure why; it just felt right to acknowledge a Gold Rank for looking out for me.
But I didn't have time to ponder it further, as I heard footsteps approaching from the distance.
"Oh, bollocks. Barn! Quick, do something about..." I gestured to the street, "whatever's left of him."
Three more clacks of his jaw, and the man's remains turned into fine stardust and vanished. Even the few droplets that had stained my clothes disappeared, along with all the dirt and grime, leaving both the street and my attire suspiciously spotless.
A man emerged from the back of the abandoned alleyway, sporting a similar black mask and armour as the previous one.
What the hell was happening?