“S-stop,” Mortimer tried.

But Mila was already halfway towards the doors. She knew Isabel was following after her. Andrew and Mr Crow exclaimed in surprise, and at that point, she was at the door.

Without hesitation, Mila kicked the doors open while moving to the side to let Isabel face whoever it was as she was their defensive expert, then prepared to strike.

Only to come to a sudden stop. Mila quickly slipped the dagger back under her robe as Isabel sheathed her sword and stepped forward.

The boy, who was currently on the ground, watched them with horror in his eyes. “P-please…” He whimpered as tears began to fall.

“We are not going to hurt you.” Gently, Isabel tried to calm the boy. “It was just a misunderstanding.” She stepped back, as her presence made the poor thing sob even more.

“What are you doing!” Mortimer shouted and ran towards the boy. “Are you okay, Vatim? You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“Isabel, Mila.” Andrew, for once, sounded angry. “Explain.” He demanded.

Mila glanced at Isabel, who looked ashamed. She couldn’t decide what face to show herself. It was clear she had erred, but another look at the sobbing boy sobered her somewhat.

“I am… Sorry.” Mila hung her head. “I noticed someone was in the room and spying on us. It led to me alerting Isabel, and when the sound of impact came, I moved to neutralise a possible threat.”

“That’s not a good excuse now, is it?” Andrew glared at them. “And you, Isabel, keep her on a leash already. She won’t listen to anyone else.” He pointed out.

“She is not a pet.” Isabel resisted.

“She is more of a beast than Mr Crow.”

“She is way cuter than your bird.”

“You both do know I am here, right?” Mila reminded.

“Everything is going to be fine.” Mortimer hugged Vatim.

“Uh,” Mila tried not to flinch under Andrew's piercing glare. She understood. It was her fault. “Sorry about the door.”

The whole morning was a disaster, and this one trumped everything that had come before. Mila tried to devise something that wouldn’t come off as standoffish.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, everything is alright.” Mortimer kept ignoring them. He rubbed the boy’s back.

With each passing moment, Mila felt shittier. “Ah, damn it all.” She ruffled her hair and sent a pleading glance to Andrew.

“Why don’t you both come back and sit down before you break something else.” Andrew pointed at the chairs. “They both need time to calm down.”

After exchanging looks with Isabel, Mila slumped back to the table. Occasionally, she glanced back to where Mortimer cradled the boy who was crying endlessly.

“Think they are related?” Andrew wondered.

“Doesn’t look like they are.” Isabel opined.

“I think Mila hit a nerve with her move. The boy was probably traumatised before, and you made it worse.” Andrew added.

“He looks so pitiful.” Isabel agreed. She was ignoring the fact that she had partaken in the mishap. “He looks malnourished, probably one of the refugees.”

When Mila noticed Andrew opening his mouth again, she could not take it anymore. “Okay, I get it. It is my fault. I don’t know what to do now.” This kind of situation made her feel helpless. There were options - she simply didn’t know which to choose.

“How about you try to act nicer,” Andrew suggested. “Smile sometimes. Don’t pull out a weapon when you feel just a bit threatened. Try to think.” He counted on his fingers. “You could-”

“Well, that’s not fair-” Mila stopped him. Then again, she didn’t have a good track record of making the soundest decisions. And with that, her mouth fell shut. There had to be something Mila could do. “Isabel, please help.” She played her trump card.

But it didn’t work. Isabel shuffled in her seat before averting her eyes. “He is making a good point.” She murmured.

The guilt-tripping was working too well. But before Mila had to find a hole to crawl in, there was a knock on the doors.

“Mort! We know you are there. Open up!” A gruff voice demanded. “We need to talk about your new acquaintances.”

At least this gave Mila something else to concentrate on. She looked at Mortimer, who was now paler than ever.

“They are not your friends, I assume?” Mila asked.

“No.” Mortimer returned a whisper. “Don’t open the door. They will leave soon.”

Mila found it doubtful. The calls for Mortimer grew louder and the knocking more incessant. “I don’t think they are going to leave.” She finally concluded.

“Mort! Open up! We saw your guests. Are you trying to leave us out? We can’t have that. Why don’t we talk about it? We are all friends here! Introduce us!” There were unspoken threats in the tone of the voice.

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Isabel furrowed her brows before equipping her shield. Andrew groaned but also took a combat-ready stance.

“What are you doing?” Mortimer sounded alarmed.

“It seems whoever has come has done it with confrontation in mind.” Mila found the newest development stabilised her floundering emotions. The situation was likely worse, but at least she had the confidence to navigate it.

“Th-they will leave-” Mortimer tried to will his words into reality.

Of course, the world wasn’t so kind. The knocks grew more powerful, and the doors began to crack from the impacts.

With a shield in one hand and a sword in the other, Isabel moved forward, with Mila following in her shadow. The dagger was once again in her hand. Andrew meanwhile pulled out his scimitars. Mila didn’t miss how his hands trembled while doing so.

Meanwhile, Isabel stopped a short distance from the doors. She pulled her shield forward, making sure she was ready to block any sudden attacks. “Are they dangerous?” She whispered.

They weren’t. Mila could not feel any of them. “No. Just thugs.” She looked back at Andrew, who was taking deep breaths. He returned the glance.

“No killing.” Andrew hissed. “You just said they are not a danger.”

“Not to us.” Mila looked back at where Mortimer was growing frantic. And she wouldn’t just kill these guys anyway. “Hey,” She addressed the the distressed man. “What will happen if we break their bones?”

“No, no, don’t!” Mortimer suddenly sprung to his feet. He left the boy in that room while rushing towards the entrance doors. “Let me handle this!”

The hinges almost gave from the continuous pounding. Mila did another scan before closing her eyes for a moment. There was no need to risk it. She relaxed. Perhaps Andrew was right. There was no need to resort to violence at the first opportunity.

“I am here!” Mortimer shouted. “Please stop. You’ll ruin my door.” He glanced back at where Mila had already done something similar. “I am opening them, okay?” He put his hand on the handle.

It was a small wonder the troublemakers hadn’t just barged in. Then again, they probably wanted to intimidate them first. Mila couldn’t tell. She took a deep breath and let her mana move. Her existence slowly grew thinner.

Mila liked this trick, although Isabel hated it. It made her girlfriend overlook Mila’s presence sometimes. It was an extension of the old ‘Hide Presence’ spell she had started to use so long ago.

Mortimer looked at the handle for a moment, gathering courage before pushing it down and opening the doors.

And just as the doors slid open, a fist landed on Mortimer’s face, hitting his cheek.

“Finally!” A man in leather armour stood in the door frame, looking at the retreating man, clutching his face. His bulging eyes screamed violence. The shortcut hair made the pulsating veins on the forehead and temple easy to see. Behind him, three other thuggish henchmen cracked their knuckles. “Don’t make us wait ever again.”

“I-I won’t, Laum.” Mortimer whimpered.

The hit hadn’t even been that bad. Mila shook her head. Mortimer had managed to move back before the fist had landed.

Clearly, he was playing up. Mila looked at his trembling knees. Well, perhaps he wasn’t.

“And who do we have here?” Laum started at Isabel and Andrew, not impressed by the raised weapons. “What are you two supposed to be.” He spat on the carpet, making Mortimer cringe. “Bodyguards? Mercenaries? Mort here can’t afford that. Why don’t you run along? There is no money to be made here.”

“We can’t do that.” Isabel didn’t move.

“The hell you can’t!” Laum’s voice boomed through the place. “You both will do as I say or else!”

Andrew shook his head. “We could leave for now, but we still have business with Mortimer. We can’t risk you doing something to him.”

All Andrew’s words did was to make Laum laugh. “Pwahaha, you don’t have to care about Mort here. We are besties, right, Mort?” He stepped inside the apartment, and the three other thugs followed right after.

They only stopped once Isabel’s sword was only a moment away from touching Laum. “Move it, girly. Before you get hurt.”

It was almost funny. Mila couldn’t imagine these cartoonish men doing anything to hurt Isabel. While Laum at least looked like he could win a pub brawl, the men behind him looked like all they did was fight alcohol.

That is not to say they didn’t have muscle, just that the henchmen's empty gazes signified the lack of any frontal lobe development.

And Isabel’s judgement was the same as Mila’s. “I don’t think you can.” She cooly rebuked. “Not with those fists of yours.”

“Oh, you wanna try ‘em?” Laum flexed. “I can give you some love after we are done. These hands are excellent at giving pleasure.”

Of course, it came to this. Mila ignored Andrew’s pleading look. She wasn’t going to kill just for this. Her hand gripped the handle of her dagger tighter. Maybe she would… Just a little bit.

With a silent step, Mila slid from behind Isabel to stand next to one of the henchmen. None of them even noticed her movement. Andrew was still looking at her, though.

“If you even try to touch me, I’ll cut your filthy hands off.” Isabel coldly affirmed. The surety of her words shut the intruders up, making them freeze for a moment.

“Uh, Laum,” One of the henchmen spoke for the first time. “She looks kind of tough.”

“Shut it, Idiot.” The man standing next to Mila nudged the bravest of the trio.

“What of it?” Laum’s eyes now bore into Isabel. “There is no way Mort got anyone worthwhile to help him.” He was confident even now.

Finally, Andrew tore his eyes off Mila and looked at Laum. “Why are you here anyway?”

“To remind Mort of his place.” Laum cracked his neck. “He has some nice trinkets too.” He eyed the various keepsakes. “Maybe he should share with his friends, right boys?”

The boys cheered. Mila leaned away from the one next to her to avoid the sudden movement of his hand as he raised it to hoot.

“No!” Mortimer finally moved. He had fallen further back, trying to keep the distance. “You can't!”

For the first time, Mortimer looked angry and didn’t avoid Laum’s angry stare.

“What the hell, Mort?” Laum growled. “ You dare to say no to us? Do you know what it means to your arm? Are you so sure you can manage your task with just one?”

“You can’t take anything.” Mortimer stood his ground. “This is all I have from…” He hiccuped. “You can’t!”

All of the intruders looked at Mortimer in surprise. Clearly, there was something unusual about his current behaviour.

And it suited Mila just fine. Using the moment no one was paying attention to her, she moved.

This was, frankly, getting ridiculous. There clearly wasn’t anything more to discuss. These men would not leave, and they needed Mortimer.

After they had taken care of these thugs, Mila was sure they would be eager to answer any questions they might have.

Keeping Andrew’s words in mind, Mila used the pommel of her dagger to strike the temple of the man standing next to her.