“I see. I have an idea of what’s going on, then.”

Noah closed his eyes as he spoke. Each word he uttered hung in the air. Frances didn’t know what he was thinking of, but his calm expression did not give off the sense of calmness. Rather, he exuded a sense of forlorn grandeur, and the bitter taste of betrayal. His breath stayed consistent, his emotional state forced into submission.

“So, what’s your friend doing?”

The starry skies that made up the backdrop of the city overlooked the great expanse. Even the tallest towers failed to poke at the vast black curtains, stained by celestial drops of milk. Just how many times did they see this sight? Did the stars stay the same, a thousand years back? No, even then, the view she relished in was a lie. A time capsule of light, sent backwards in time for the distant visitor to admire. The star that blinked, the stars of the dark seas above, all might be gone.

She had no idea how old the world was, much less the universe. Were they nearing the end, every single species on this moist rock doomed to die by an untimely supernova before the first person reaches space, to view that sight?

Frances shook her head. This was no time for such thoughts. The elves, and Noah himself too, were unimaginably old. An average elf could live for centuries on end, with most dying before the 900 mark. But for those that lived beyond that point? Those were the lucky ones. The genetic lottery rolled in their favour. Those few could live for millennia. She shuddered at the thought. Just how displaced would one be? To be out of time, to have everyone die out. To be able to outlive a grand 90% of their own species. Generations of humans would live and die in what was essentially a blink of an eye. Fleeting decades, and swift centuries.

“The Sylvana I know is ruthless at times. If the ends justify the means, then even sacrificing an entire village is okay. They killed countless innocent people, just to slow the demons down.”

“Wait, slow the demons down? Do they bury the bodies?” Frances asked.

“They eat the corpses. Demons, as a species, are intelligent and talented. They wouldn’t slaughter mindlessly. Not because of the goodness in their hearts, but because the energy they needed to expend was simply not worth the mana they could gain.”

“So they thrive on mana. Wouldn’t that mean that this is literally a honeypot?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. This dome, the pulses, it could be possible that Sylvana is trying to lure every single high-ranked demon here to slay them in a single night.”

“But how would they even die? I don’t suppose another person’s inventing a nuke?”

Frances shot a glance up. Though thin, and barely noticeable, the dome made for a killing field. If the caster could block out every single drop of rain and snow, would they be able to block people from leaving too? If that was the case, every single escape plan was null and void. But what about the act of killing itself?

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“I’m not sure.” Noah shook his head. “But I can tell you as a fact. Sylvana is weaker than me. Our sword fighting record is 422 to 34. And for magic, it's better, but not by much. 302 to 157.”

“Hmm. So are you confident in your capabilities?”

“What I’m afraid of is the plan. If Sylvana has help, or spent the centuries perfecting some kind of ultimate magic...”

“Then we best hurry up. But are you sure sure that it's Sylvana? And not an unfortunate coincidence?”

“Sylvana is on another level when compared to Lady Hye-Sung, and Lady Iris. The only reason I managed to win is because they specialise in a few fields.”

That was worrying. An elf, with nothing else to do but train for centuries was undoubtedly a master of their craft. If the mana pulses the others felt was just a byproduct of simple magic...

She shuttered that thought. Her fingers found themselves coiling around the handle of the revolver. It just felt right. A dangerous weapon, to fight fire with fire.

“So what do you wanna do? Just kick down the doors to the city hall?” Hye-Sung asked.

“Exactly that.”

Noah touched the wooden door. Its hinges spoke of a great history. Peering through the glass windows, Frances readied her gun. The safety, or the vague and limited amounts of precautions that could be put inside, was left on.

“You can’t pick it. There’s a bolt on the other side, and a seal,” he said. “Everyone ready?”

“As ready as we can be. But just in case... I’ll handle any threats that you guys can’t deal with. Or if the magic shields are too strong, or something.” Frances pointed at herself. “Iris, you handle those using physical weapons. Hye-Sung, just snipe those that I can’t hit. Noah, you deal with Sylvana.”

“We’re dealing with mages here, so you need to be extra careful. I can’t guarantee your safety,” said Hye-Sung.

“I agree. I’d prefer if you stayed as far away as possible, but something tells me this is where you should be.”

“With you?”

“Yes. Stay here, with me. If you go off on your own, the assassins will get you.” Iris sounded like she was stating the obvious.

“Alright. Then, shall we go?”

“Okay. Three... Two... One...”

He gave the lock a strong smack. Its metal body cracked and fell in two. Noah nudged the door open, its aged hinges creaking as it turned. Inside was completely dark, save for the faint illumination provided by the streetlights and moon. With light provided by Iris, they crept in, and Frances closed the door behind her.

The reception room seemed normal. Desks, chairs, and various filing cabinets behind. A set of stairs led upwards, towards a residential area. Presumably, it was meant for those of highest importance, but it wasn’t well known.VIPs like large business owners or diplomats were to be treated to the highest service there. However, it was only after booking their inn that Frances learned about it from the border guards.

Another set of stairs led down, who knew where. But the three of them agreed that the pulses came from below, so it was their destination. Iris and Noah led the way. She held the wooden stick, with a light source cast on it, and swung it around. It was a long way down.

“This is a records room.” Frances examined the area once they reached the bottom.

Numerous cabinets were arranged in a neat fashion. Someone plastered labels on them, with basic information like year and issue. But nothing there was older than a couple of years, at most.

“That can’t be it,” Hye-Sung said. “Search for a trapdoor or something.”