What they saw outside made Mila’s stomach drop. People were rushing and pushing without care for stepping on each other. From the disjointed voices, she understood there had been a fight at one of the gates.

While seemingly there had been no bloodshed, it had resulted in all exits being blocked. Mila wasn’t clear on the details, but it appeared to be the City guard that had barred everyone's way, cutting off the local regiment from receiving reinforcements.

And not just receiving them. A convoy of arriving soldiers had been turned around at the gate. But that didn’t make sense. They would just report the news to the command. Not to mention the forces that were already in the city.

“It’s too soon.” Viola’s alarmed voice struggled to overcome the mayhem. “What gave the Nobles the confidence to move so quickly?”

It was a question Mila also wanted an answer to. She looked at Isabel. It was clear her girl was torn on how to proceed. “Go back and make sure Kanna and Vatim are safe. I’ll check the address Viola gave to me. I’ll find Andrew.”

Isabel nodded, handed the paper with information to Mila, and vanished into the crowd. Her passing was brutal and direct, making a path where there was none through the wall of bodies. The opening closed right after, hiding Isabel’s back.

“And you?” Mila asked.

To which Viola responded by giving a sign to someone across the street on a roof. “I’ll gather my people and try to find out what happened from my superior in the city. If you need us, I’ll have Sally here. Talk to her, and she will pass a message to me.”

A woman dressed as one of the beggars appeared in the doorframe behind Mila. She nodded and started to put on leather armour. “People are getting rowdy.” She nodded towards the rushing crowd. Some of them looked at the building in envy.

Even if it was a simple wood wall, something between them and the outside world looked like a mighty fort.

“Be careful,” Viola warned. “I’ll send someone else to help you. Retreat to Naran’s tunnels if necessary.”

“You made an agreement?” Mila judged the closest wall and how to scale it.

“Yeah.” Viola showed Mila a couple of protrusions that made getting to the roof easy. “Naran reassured us we can hide there.”

“Then good luck.” Mila jumped, grabbed one of the protruding planks and pulled herself up. She climbed up to the roof and looked around.

Mila wasn’t the only one using the less crowded rooftops. She saw people climb up to avoid being trampled. Every building became a small island in the middle of a raging river. She looked around and squinted.

There was a brief battle between three persons above the walls. Mila couldn’t make out much more as she was too far away. But she did learn the perimeter of the city was defended, and people were likely forbidden to leave.

Those were not good news. While Mila trusted Naran had a way around the blockade, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the city.

If… No, when. When the fighting started, the civilians would try to escape the city. Mila could only guess what would happen to them. Most likely - they would be cut down.

The more Mila thought, the more she saw a repeat of Ocheon. “Ah.” She looked down at the fist she had made. Without her notice, fingernails had dug too deep into her skin as she had continued to apply more and more force.

Another thing Mila didn’t want to think about. Those were piling up lately. She really had to put off some time to sort out her emotions. Not now, of course.

Andrew had to be found. Without further hesitation, Mila moved. With ease, she jumped over to the building next to this one. The roof dangerously creaked as she landed.

After making sure she wouldn’t fall through the roof, Mila proceeded further. She jumped from a rooftop to rooftop. From time to time, Mila consulted her paper to see where to go next. When she didn’t know, there always was someone who she could ask to. On the roofs, of course.

The streets continued to be a complete mess. Even the soldiers had vanished from them, and with them, so had anyone who could police the rising hysteria.

No… That wasn’t entirely true. Some spots were under the calmness of fear. While searching, Mila encountered a gang of five people forcing those around them to obey and those more pleasant to the eye - to enter a building that had been a shop at some point. Now, it was another structure asking to be torn down and replaced.

Not that Mila had time to interfere. She had to…

“This is so frustrating,” Mila whispered to no one. She glanced around and chose a two-story building with a roof access. From there, she could enter the place and change.

Mila fastened her steps, and after another few jumps, she kicked the roof entrance doors open, stepping inside. A few people had seen her do it, but with her habitual cloak covering her body, they wouldn’t recognise her.

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Once inside, Mila donned her mask and ran down the stairs. She entered an empty room with a window towards where the gang was currently abusing those poor people.

It wouldn’t take long. Those trash of society posed no danger to Mila. She opened the window and peered down at the masses. Part of her considered playing into the laughably edgy alter ego the world around her had created.

But it was a waste. It wasn’t Mila. It was just a fish people had. They wanted someone who would punish those who wronged them. And she could recognise the strength of a symbol. They could give strength to those who had none.

The thought made her hesitate a moment too long. Someone in the crow spotted her. Then another. They pointed at her and spoke to those around them. The quiet, respectful tone she was addressed in made Mila sick in the stomach.

With too much theatrics, Mila took out her dagger. A new one. She did not know where she had gotten this one. The wild night with Isabel had netted her a shiny, silvery weapon with a carved handle. It wasn’t the best, but it was decent.

The crowd quieted as Mila stepped on the windowsill. The gang of five despicable excuses for human beings soon noticed something was wrong. They stopped pushing around a young man who had dared to oppose them and looked around.

Three men and two women. Those were Mila’s targets. It was a question of whether or not she should take their lives.

The bloody spot on the doors, where they had forced a woman inside the abandoned shop, made the decision easy. That wet, red and dirty puddle came from someone. The spilt blood had been someone's lifeline.

There were far too many bad apples in Stilag. Mila couldn’t afford to leave these ones untouched and spread their decay.

With purpose in mind, Mila gathered strength and mana in her legs. It was too late to be stealthy. And then, she jumped. The air pressed against her, making her cloak flap in the wind as she crossed the distance between her and the targets.

Before hitting the ground, Mila landed on a street vendor’s stall. The foggy night had netted Mila more mana. She was capable of landing on her feet when jumping from the second floor. It made her wonder how many lives she had taken and did they deserve to die.

But from the rumours floating around, the answer was many, and yes. Yes, they did deserve an early end. Mila had heard some stories while eating. Most of Naran’s people did not know her or how formidable she was. It was only Barcy, Cecilia and Naran himself who knew of her nightly endeavours. Some others probably suspected. Her innocent, if cold, appearance helped to keep them guessing.

Mila didn’t believe those tales. There were too many, and they contradicted each other. In one, Mila’s alter ego had walked inside a building full of armed men and killed them all without a single scream comming from the place.

In another, Isabel had challenged a hundred thugs to a battle as they had insulted a lady and had to pay. Then she had proceeded to barehandedly brutalise them all.

In a third, Mila, standing on Isabel’s shoulders, had stood in front of a known criminal’s house and declared that justice had come for the woman.

And there were more and just as ludicrous, if not more. But it all seemed to have happened around the same time, which was impossible. Especially if Mila and Isabel had been drunk to the point of not remembering most of the events. Right?

Right. It couldn’t be real. Mila refused to believe it was, and it was final.

But back to the current situation. Mila stood on the stall’s roof, studying the suddenly trembling five targets. All of their bravado had vanished, replaced by fear and resignation.

To Mila’s surprise, all of them took out their weapons. Three of the men had daggers, one woman had a short sword, and the last woman used a bloodied whip.

“You are not going to torment us, fiend!” The woman with the whip tried to be brave. She raised her chin high and tried to step forward, only to stumble as she failed to withstand Mila’s cold stare.

Once again, Mila had to wonder just what kind of rumours had been spreading about her. She once more inspected the insects before her. They were pathetic in the grand scheme of things. With their meagre mana, they stood above the masses. But that was about it. They were bullies who used their slight advantage to abuse those they considered lesser than them.

And this was their end of the road. Mila didn’t waste any words. Under the silent gaze of the people around them, she dropped to the ground. Her movements did not produce any sound. She didn’t disturb the reverence-filled street. It made her skin crawl.

“N-no…” One of the men couldn’t take the heavy atmosphere. He turned around and tried to flee. His unstable steps didn’t carry him far.

The people around them pressed tighter against each other. Their hate-filled gazes turned towards the coward. They formed a wall, and the man did not find a way through it. He wanted to shout. His trembling arm raised the dagger he held, but no words came from his mouth.

Mila lowered her raised hand. She had used a little too much strength in the throw. The knife had cut right through the man’s neck, severing his spine. She had to be more mindful of her ever-increasing strength.

Feeling more unwanted mana enter her body, Mila turned towards the rest of the group. They did not dare to resist. Seeing their comrade's demise, they dropped their weapons and fell on their knees.

“P-please.” The woman with the shortsword cried.

“I don’t want to die.” One of the remaining men sobbed.

“...Anything you want…” The woman who had spoken first offered.

“I have a daughter…” The other man tried to appeal.

And none of it mattered. Mila saw from the audience's eyes. These people had done terrible things. They wanted retribution. They wanted a judgment. They wanted her to deliver it.

“I am not your saviour.” Despite the even tone, Mila’s voice carried over the expectant rabble. “I am not a judge.” She continued, despite the confusion some of the people had. “I will not be there when you need me.”

And still, there were no objections. These people grasped at her every word. They did not care for what she said. Mila had a feeling they would twist it to their liking. So she was direct. There had to be no mistakes.

“I will leave. You will have to fight for yourselves. I am a single person. Remember that. And don’t think my words mean you have to throw your lives away. When I say ‘fight’, I mean survive and strive for something better. For a future, you can be unashamed of.”

With these words, Mila jumped back on the vendor's stall roof and then to the closest building's roof.

Behind, Mila heard desperate cries of her previous targets. Their victims were not merciful.

With the dying sounds behind, Mila left. Those sinners did not try to fight back. They had accepted their end and those who delivered it.