Without making any noise, Mila ran up the stairs. It was a close call. There had been more guards here than she had expected. Even now, they kept exiting rooms, and Mila had to dodge into one of them to avoid them.

Throughout the second floor, Mila moved from room to room. She had to kill only once through the ordeal. All things considered, things were finally moving smoothly.

Mila moved to the third floor. Here, it was silent. The area around the stairs was barren, with a single post where she guessed a guard was usually doing his duty. She saw what looked like a lift meant to transport the captured offenders in and out of the place.

Or at least the sign above the doors designated it as such. Mila moved towards the reinforced doors. To no one's surprise, they were closed. She tried to recall if she had seen a room or a person with any keys.

There hadn’t been one. Mila checked the walls for weak points and if the doors could be forced open. No luck. She kept glancing back at the stairs. Something felt off.

After scrutinising the surroundings, Mila returned back to trying to force the doors open. She took out one of the throwing knives and started to poke around the lock, trying to ruin it enough to break.

It took too long until Mila succeeded. It had made noise, and it had left traces. If someone came, they would notice her handwork right away. Her nerves started to play tricks on her. She kept looking behind her to find nothing.

But finally, the lock gave, and Mila started to pull the doors open. She felt her shoulders relax. Now, to find Andrew’s cell and…

Mila yerked her body sideways. A thin needle penetrated deep into the metal door frame. She felt it now. Just out of the radius her sense could pick, there was someone. And they were heading right towards her.

Cold sweat poured down Mila’s back. It had been too close. One of the doors had opened without her noticing. From there, a thin man with narrow eyes and short hair, wearing a guard uniform, was running towards her. He held a shortsword in one hand while the other kept moving fingers in a strange rhythm. Another needle appeared in it.

Mila swallowed hard. She raised her dagger and launched the ruined throwing knife towards the man, who blurred for a moment, and the attack simply passed through the shadow left behind.

Only because Mila could sense the mana did she survive. The man suddenly accelerated and was next to her the very next moment. She hadn’t even seen him take the steps.

By kicking the doors and throwing herself forward, Mila managed to avoid the savage swipe at her flank. She hit the ground painfully and spun her body to keep rolling to evade the needle that punched through the floor, landing herself next to the stairs.

The man didn’t allow Mila to stand and moved to stand over her. His hands moved at an incredible speed as he swung a shortsword down at Mila’s neck.

Mila’s fingers grabbed the last step of the stairs and used all her strength to pull herself away from the deadly attempt. It saved her, but now she was sliding down, with each step painfully hitting her back.

The man clicked his tongue and followed. Mila heard someone exclaim from the second floor. A flick of her opponent's hand silenced the person and shot another needle at her chest.

With some difficulty, Mila managed to move her dagger in front of the needle, and it hit the crossguard, ramming the weapon into her chest.

This was extremely dangerous. From how quickly the person behind her had fallen silent and collapsed, Mila judged the needles to be poisoned. She couldn’t allow them to even nick her.

The man clicked his tongue again. More voices came from behind Mila. She didn’t have time to look. Her opponent silenced them anyway, so they did not matter.

Mila parried another needle. Each time she did, the man grew more irritated. His face barely moved, but that one emotion came across clearly. She managed to control her descent just as the man reached her. She twisted her body to face him.

Mila’s current position made it hard for the man to use his shortsword. So, instead, he opted for a ruthless stomp.

The metal-covered boot came down, forcing Mila to cross her hands in front of her. The heavy impact propelled her backwards. The pain shot through her body and made her arms numb. Her fingers just barely held on to her dagger.

But it had been a mistake on the man’s part. As Mila closed in on the second storey’s floor, she managed to balance herself, landing on her feet. Her knees buckled, and she swallowed tears.

Finally, there was a distance between them. Mila had a moment to study the man. Outwardly, there was nothing impressive. Thin, gangly limbs, a little belly, a balding spot on top of the head, bored expression.

The man was dressed as a guard, but there was no doubt he was not one. Another voice was silenced behind Mila by an almost invisible needle. Who was he? What was he doing here? Why was he attacking her? Was he the reason the last floor had been empty? Why hadn’t she paid more attention to that fact? But there was no time for her to find out.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Because he was powerful and relentless. Mila could tell the man didn’t have more mana than her. He was just more adept at what he had. Each movement was deliberate and deadly.

Mila was at a loss. She couldn’t just run away and leave Andrew here. With how the man cleared out the guards, he might as well take care of her friend while at it.

But attacking him was not an option either. It pained Mila to admit, but from the short exchange, it became clear - she was at a severe disadvantage.

Maybe Mr Crow could help? He was outside, circling the building. Or Anthony? But ignoring where his loyalties lay, would he endanger his life to help? And even then, even if she received the bird’s and spy’s help, would she be able to win?

Unlikely. Not unless Isabel was also there, but alas…

Mila realised she had been still for too long. The man shot towards her, again blurring.

Mila retreated. She kept her senses sharp and was not fooled by the image left behind by the move. Her quick steps were enough to avoid the worst of the blow that came from the side.

Their weapons crossed, and Mila was batted to the side against the wall. The loud impact resounded through the building, and then the man clicked his tongue. It appeared to be his habit when things didn’t go as he wished.

It was clear he wanted to finish quickly. All of his moves had been decisive and looked to finish Mila off. And now the sound might have alerted more annoyances.

Mila wasn’t keen on more people running towards them either. If the City’s guards arrived, they likely would first side with the man and try to subdue her.

But perhaps more chaos was what Mila needed. With an oil lantern just an arm’s length away, she chose to grab it and smash it on the ground between her and her opponent.

As the fire flared, the man raised an eyebrow. He ignored the fire and jumped over it, making Mila fall back again. She deflected another needle.

If only she could somehow get past him to…

Mila’s mind short-circuited. “Fuck!” For the first time since the fight started, she broke the silence.

The man still moved with decisiveness, but now he kept glancing towards the stairs leading down to the first floor. Seeing Mila’s momentary pause, he chopped down at her. She had no choice but to block again.

Just barely, Mila managed to move her dagger in front of the shortsword. There wasn’t enough strength in her to block completely. In desperation, she used the short delay the dagger had made to spin away from the blow.

It still left a sharp cut on her upper arm. It wasn’t deep. Mila didn’t feel any numbness spreading from the wound either. Luckily, the shortsword hadn’t been laced with poison. She couldn’t leave the wound unattended for long. The bleeding would quickly weaken her.

In addition…

Mila looked at the fire climbing the walls. She had fucked up. Royally.

Yes, the man was now looking around more, trying to figure out if Mila was worth the trouble. After all, the fire was filling the area, and soon it would become dangerous even for him. People would come and discover them.

But also, this took away the option to retreat. The dry walls and ceiling welcomed the spreading blaze warmly. It would not take long until the fire spread to the third floor. Andrew would be done if it happened.

Despite the blaze, Mila felt her body chill. It couldn’t be allowed to happen. Isabel would never forgive her and… She didn’t want her only friend to die either. Andrew, for all his faults, had tried to understand Mila. He spent time talking to her. He kept her company and sought to correct her if he thought she had done wrong.

It couldn’t be allowed to happen!

“Mr Crow!” Mila suddenly screamed in desperation. She didn’t know what the featherball could do, but Mila was out of options. “SING!”

The man looked at her in surprise, then frowned. More steps rushed upstairs, making their situation even more precarious. Mila inhaled too much of the hot air and had to clear her throat. Her gaze didn’t leave the man.

Seconds passed, and the man waited with Mila, unsure of what she had meant by the outburst. It was the first time he had made a mistake.

And then it happened. A loud, screeching sound of confusion and hatred rocked the building, deafening everyone inside, even Mila. The soundwaves kept coming, filling the place, and despite Mr Crow not targeting her, she still felt herself stumble.

The man had it worse. He swayed while pressing his ears shut. Yet, his eyes never left her and glinted with danger. Mila gritted her teeth and, without hesitation, turned and jumped through the fire to where the stairs to the third floor were.

Mila feared the man would follow and kept her attention on him, but the Mana signature didn’t move towards her.

There was more shouting about the fire and an order for the man to explain himself. Mila ran as those voices were extinguished.

“What a disaster,” Mila whispered to herself, unable to calm her nerves. Her body hurt. She cut her robe in strips and hurried to tie them around her bleeding arm.

The man didn’t follow. Mila knew he didn’t. She trusted her senses. But the same senses had failed to feel him coming before. Her head turned to look at the raging fire.

The man didn’t follow. She had lost. Mila winced and poked her ribs. They hurt. Everything did. She had to get Andrew out.

Mila was once again at the reinforced doors. They were left slightly ajar from the previous attempt to see what was behind them. She looked back again.

Was Mila still alive because the man found her too troublesome to deal with? She didn’t know. It felt like that. He hadn’t let her leave because she was a danger but because she was troublesome. It stung.

Perhaps the man was simply goal-oriented. He certainly was a professional. Mila hadn’t been his goal, so he had let her go. That was an easier answer to accept.

The smoke filtered up, filling the floor. There was no way Mila could use the same path to run. She tried to clean her face with her sleeve. It didn’t help.

Mila tried to take a deep breath and cut it short when a sharp pain shot through her body. Was it ribs, after all? They didn’t feel broken, but…

It was hard to keep herself up. Mila wanted to see Isabel…

No, first, she had to get Andrew out of this place before it burnt down. Mila finally opened the doors and stepped beyond them.