Isil awoke to muttered curses and the cracking of bark. It seemed that Fouge had woken as well. She took a comb out of her bag and attended to her bedhead, not bothering with Fouge’s increasing struggles. She conjured a small bit of water into her hands and scrubbed her face. She didn’t change into new clothes, but instead threw her robe over her body and walked out. Fouge’s cursing and struggling stopped upon seeing her, and put on an awkward smile. However, his eyes remained sharp and vigilant.

“Hey, can you explain this?” Fouge demanded, angry and pleading at the same time.

“Dunno, maybe.” Isil shrugged it off.

“Look, if this is about yesterday, I already told you it was an accident! I don’t see the need to go this far.”

“… Alright then.” Isil threw her left hand into the air, a Mana Blade being cast and cutting apart the ropes.

Fouge quickly jerked his arms away from the tree, moving his hands to massage his arms. Hand. Fouge froze when he noticed his missing forearm. A terrified scream came from his mouth, phantom pain racking his arm. He grasped at his stump arm, eyes wide as he realized his lacking hand. His screams continued for a while, only coming to an end when it turned into a violent cough.

“Drop the act, you’re terrible at it.” Isil sat down casually, staring hard at Fouge.

Fouge finished coughing and returned a glare. He glanced down towards his stump arm and sighed.

“How’d you know?” He asked, composed.

“You were too polite to me. In fact, for any person in the military, you were far too polite. Your acting was superb, but… you just didn’t know what character to play.” Isil explained. As an after thought, she added, “So I didn’t know, you just seemed off.”

“Heh…” Fouge gave a single, dry laugh, and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s always been my problem. But, not my greatest right now.”

“…” Isil remained quiet, letting him say his piece.

“I just have to confirm, are you from Ulblaadaan? Was that idiot from before right?”

“Oh, god no!” Isil vehemently denied the accusation. “I’m sure he just wanted to do… well, he seemed more like the highway bandits he protected people from than what he was supposed to be.”

“Yeah, that’s most of this corp. Fucking simpletons. I swear, why does the brass let these people out and about...” Fouge complained.

“For most of them, they’re loyalty is real. But since their job isn’t really recognized, their ego balloons like crazy.”

“Balloons?”

‘Course they don’t know what balloons are. “They get a big head. They think they deserve more than they’re given. That they deserve respect and honor. They also expect to have beautiful ladies tripping over each other to get their dicks. I fail to understand how they think that works.” Isil ranted.

“They’re commoners. They’re supposed to have dreams unbefitting of their status.”

“Well, I mean, your not wrong, but you make it sound like all commoners are like that imbecile.”

“Look, if you’re going to kill me, just hurry up and get it over with. I don’t have time for this.” Fouge said suddenly.

Isil stopped for a second, then stood up. Fouge didn’t move, but kept his eyes trained on her.

“I don’t suppose you were assigned to watch me?” Isil asked, thinking back to the Ashiron General whose name she couldn’t remember.

“No, like I said before, I simply suspected you to be a spy and followed you.” Fouge said, shaking his head.

“Huh. Well, whatever.” Isil brushed her hand through the air.

Mana poured into her body as she cast the Rejuvenation spell. Fouge doubled over, clutching his stump arm as it began to grow back. It took only a few seconds, but at the end of it, Fouge looked like someone who had just finished a 100 meter dash. Sweat dripped into his eyes, making it hard to see, but he could feel his left hand again. He moved his fingers experimentally, feeling the same dexterity and control he had just the day before.

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“Wha...” He was at a loss for words.

“Go ahead and touch yourself, I won’t be watching.” Isil said, packing up her things.

“What, w-why? I thought-? weren’t you going to-?” Fouge could hardly put together his question.

“Look, I understand why you tried peeking into my things. Losing an arm might’ve been a bit harsh a punishment, especially after I heard your reasons. But…” Isil’s voice turned harsh here, “You did see me nearly naked, and you did peek into my things, so I didn’t bother healing it until you woke up.”

Fouge remained silently astonished. Isil ignored his wide-eyed gaze and continued packing up. She would change somewhere else, as spending more time with Fouge was something she didn’t want. She didn’t hate him, but there was some lingering anger at him having seen her underwear.

Fouge didn’t speak a word while Isil was packing. It was only until she began to depart that he spoke up.

“Wait, please.” He asked, scrambling to his feet.

Isil stopped and faced him, motioning him to continue.

“For the safety of both Ashiron and the Confederacy, I have to ask – Are you an enemy of the state?”

Isil gave a mocking chuckle and returned a question. “If I was, what could you possibly do to stop me?” Along with this question, she flared her aura, causing a pressure to descend on Fouge, making it hard for him to speak.

“I-I…” He struggled to speak under Isil’s mana pressure. “I w-w-will-”

Isil turned away from him and took a step forward, using Blink at the same time, disappearing from Fouge’s view. The pressure vanished along with her, causing Fouge to collapse as soon as it disappeared. He barely held onto his consciousness, struggling to recover from that terrible pressure.

He didn’t know her name, but he knew her face. And her power. He had to warn them, no matter what. Or else… or else…

Then everything went black.

-_-Perspective: Main-_-

Isil crested the hill, spotting the rolling waves of the Expansive Ocean. As she admired it, she realized just why it was called the Endless Blue by most on Tyverra. The continents of Kalixkto were closer to massive islands than the connected landmasses of Earth. As such, there was no real way to differentiate oceans, and thus, Endless Blue was the name given to the single ocean of Kalixkto. Far out into the ocean, Isil could see the faint outlines of a couple ships traveling parallel to the coast. Travel to other continents were extremely rare.

Isil took in the view for only a little bit longer before setting off again. From here, it would be another day or two before she reached Ashiron. Her food supply was plentiful, but if she stumbled upon a village or town before reaching her destination, she might stop by to buy some fresh bread. She salivated slightly, thinking of the fresh bakery products from Earth. Her rationality burst in quickly enough, reminding her that most bread would likely be as hard as a rock in medieval times.

As if on cue, her stomach gave a low growl. A grimace surfaced on her face. She pulled some meat jerky out of her bag and gnawed on it. Her eyes idly swept the scenery, her vantage point allowing her to glimpse a cut in the lush forest. This cut continued South, winding here and there, but mostly staying straight. She directed her course to this cut, believing it to be a road or other man-made pathway.

The trees and foliage was quite thick, so Isil sliced protruding branches apart with a Mana Blade, until one fell down and knocked her jerky out of her hand. Though her face remained impassive, she screamed internally. After staring at it for a while, she simply sighed and carried on. She decided to simply push the branches and brush out of her way instead of slicing them off from then on.

Whenever she lost her way, Isil climbed to the top of a tree and once more looked for the cut in the scenery. Thankfully, she was able to find it every time she was lost. It took another hour of swiping away branches and attempted parkour before she finally reached the road. Though it was not a paved road, it was much wider than she had imagined. Likely, it would be able to fit about five or six wagons with some space in between them. Isil was only surprised for a second before continuing on.

She pulled out her compass and directed herself South. If she remembered corrected, then the road should lead straight to Ashiron’s capitol. From what she remembered, this road used to connect the capitols of Ashiron and another, long dead, empire, when Ashiron was still independent and powerful. Although the glory of Ashiron had diminished, it kept much of its traditions and culture from before its fall. She was sure historians would have a field day with the many nuances in Ashiron’s history.

Isil looked behind her, hearing some faint, unidentifiable sounds from that direction. She casted her self-creating sound spell, which she dubbed, uncreatively, Sound Enhancement. The sounds around her came into focus, the unknown sounds finally turning into something like the rumble of horse-drawn wagon wheels and horse hooves. They sounded rushed, the horses hooves hitting the ground much faster than normal walking speed. More importantly, there was another sound that was mostly obscured by the horses and wagon.

Isil couldn’t make out much from where she was, so she turned around and started walking towards it. She moved off the road and into the trees, hoping to analyze the situation before being roped into it. She walked for a minute before she saw the wagon she heard. A wild-eyed, heavyset driver repeated whipped the reins, his head snapping back every other second. Further behind him, she heard more horses, and something that sounded quite like a fight.

She spared another glance at the covered wagon, extending her mana senses to discover any magical items. There was a distinct lack of anything other than simple magic tools that might be sold to commoners. Likely, this person was a merchant or someone of similar profession. As the wagon passed by, she left a small magic marker on it, just in case. She turned away from the wagon and moved swiftly towards the sounds of combat.

Isil arrived to a scene she very much expected to see. Two very similar groups clashed against each other, fighting on horseback. One group was composed of mostly men with different types of leather armor and steel swords, the other group was composed entirely of men wearing all sorts of armor, some iron, some hide, some leather and wielded either rusty iron swords or nicked steel ones. Isil could easily understand what was happening. Mercenaries hired by the merchant met with bandits along the way and the merchant went on ahead without them.

Isil shook her head and turned away. She would’ve helped them, but she could tell that although the mercenaries were outnumbered, they held the upper hand. The mercenaries were better armed and better trained than the bandits, they wouldn’t even need her to win. The bandits could hardly touch the mercenaries, while the mercenaries had already taken three bandits while she was watching. Isil turned her attention back towards the magic marker and took off in pursuit of it.

It took her some time to catch up to the wagon, but it seemed the merchant thought he was safe, and had begun to slow down. This allowed her to dash out of the forest and hop inside the covered wagon, taking care not to make noise so as to alert the merchant. She would reveal herself when he was surrounded by his mercenaries and less likely to freak out. For now, she was content to sit and wait. Perhaps she would take a nap as well.

Isil looked around the wagon, looking for something soft or space to lie down. She couldn’t find a pillow substitute, so she folded up her robe and put it against a covered box. She snuggled into the robe-pillow, taking comfort in its warmth. As she blankly gazed at the wagon cover, a sudden thought hit her.

Wait, aren’t these types of wagons used for transporting people? Why isn’t there anyone in here?

Isil looked around, once again activating her mana sense. The only things that held magic were the few magic tools and the merchant. Nothing else in the cart held any kind of mana, meaning there was no other life in the cart, save food, insects, and other animals without mana. She gently lifted up the cover on the crate she was resting on. Upon seeing something in it, she threw off the cover, not caring about the sound it would make.

The merchant heard this, and whirled around, screaming his lungs out. Isil paid no attention to him, instead staring at the cage. It was not a crate, as she thought it was, but instead a box kennel. Inside, she did not see an animal or beast, but a person. A little girl with chestnut brown hair, bruised, scraped and battered, her body covered by clothes that could only be called rags. Her wrists, ankles, and neck were chained together. The mana that resided in the collar around the girl’s neck was not a magic tool like she had thought, but a slavery collar.

As the light hit the little girl’s body, she flinched and looked up at Isil. Here, Isil’s eyes widened as she saw the girl’s head. Her eyes were hollow, a blue that should’ve shined like the ocean was instead dull and lifeless. And as the merchant realized what Isil had seen, so did she. As Isil stared at the little girl, the sight of her striking features caused a sudden anger to bubble up in Isil’s heart.