Otome's eyes narrowed in concern as we hurried down the corridor. “Where are Azrealt and Huairen” she asked, her voice cutting through the tense air.
Victoria, keeping pace beside her, glanced over. “When Vargo came to us with your message, Azrealt immediately ran off. He’s probably already in the middle of the fight alongside Corvid. Huranti and I stayed behind to patch up Vargo before he headed back to tell them to disengage and make a retreat.”
Otome let out a sharp exhale, her brow furrowing. “Those idiots, always charging in headfirst.”
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Vargo's katana rang with a sharp metallic sound as he deflected the incoming flurry of throwing knives, each deflection sending sparks dancing in the air. The rhythmic clang of metal on metal reverberated through the space as the knives ricocheted away.
Corvid, seeing the momentary break in Elizabeth’s assault, ducked out from behind cover and fired off several rounds from his magnum revolvers. The bullets roared through the air, but Elizabeth moved with an almost supernatural grace, her body weaving and bending in fluid motions. She slid effortlessly over counters and darted between cover, each movement timed perfectly to avoid the lethal projectiles. It was as if she could now predict each shot before it was fired.
As she landed behind a column, Elizabeth’s fingers flicked open the pouch on her belt. She quickly prepared another set of throwing knives, her eyes locked onto Vargo and Corvid, calculating the best angle for her next strike.
“Stay sharp!” Vargo barked, his eyes not leaving Elizabeth for a second. He could feel the weight of each moment ticking away, knowing that she was biding her time for the perfect strike.
Corvid gave a quick nod, speedily reloading his revolvers before ducking back behind cover, ready for the next round of their deadly dance.
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Riftel stood outside the store, hastily scrawling a large, intricate rune into the ground. His fingers worked deftly, tracing sharp lines and complex curves. "Once this is done, it should keep those turncoats from getting too far."
Suddenly, the glass window beside the store's front door exploded, shards erupting in every direction. Azrealt shot out onto the gravel walkway, skidding before he rose to his feet. His gaze locked onto Riftel immediately, and his voice seethed with anger.
"I knew one of you would be trying to play dirty!" he snarled, and in an instant, he charged, his speed astonishing.
Riftel’s eyes narrowed. No weapons, straight-on approach—close-quarters combat expert. Quickly, he flipped to a page in his notebook, finding an incomplete rune he had prepared for emergencies. With a swift stroke of his pen, the rune came alive, glowing a fierce, pulsing red. From the rune sprang large, crystal-like rods, blazing with power as they hurtled toward Azrealt, cutting through the air with a sharp, whistling sound.
As he watched Azrealt’s reaction, Riftel’s heart skipped. Azrealt clenched his fist, and intricate tattoos on his fingers merged into a radiant, viridescent green rune. Riftel’s mind raced. Runes on tattoos? That’s unheard of! And that green... wind or propulsion, maybe?
Azrealt's rune pulsed, unleashing a violent surge of wind that tore through Riftel’s crystal rods, shattering them into fragments that scattered like brittle glass. Riftel’s defenses crumbled in an instant, the red shards flung back in a chaotic spray.
Riftel dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding the lethal hail of his own rune shards. The air was thick with dust and crystal fragments, and he felt the tremor from Azrealt’s power ripple through the ground. Sweat dripped down his face as he lay prone, heart pounding as Azrealt approached, undeterred.
Azrealt’s expression remained calm but intense, his eyes like embers and his tattoos pulsing brighter with each step. Riftel scrambled to get up, mentally scrambling just as fast. Runes directly on his skin... he thought, marveling at the technique. A Rune Sorcera, no doubt—this kind of combat use is unprecedented.
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"You think hiding behind those weak runes will save you?" Azrealt’s voice was a low growl.
Without warning, Azrealt’s fist shot down toward Riftel. Riftel rolled out of the way as the ground where he’d just been lying exploded in a cloud of dust and debris. The impact left a crater, and Riftel felt the force ripple through the air.
‘I need to go on the offense even if it means overexerting my mansion’ He grit his teeth and flipped to another page in his notebook, adding a final stroke to an elaborate rune that sprawled across the page. With a bracing stance, he raised the book between himself and Azrealt.
Azrealt, seeing the flash of runic energy, lunged forward, but the rune was already set.
In a thunderous explosion, flames erupted from the book, surging outward like the blast of a grenade. The force knocked Riftel back a step as the flames struck Azrealt, launching him across the street. He crashed through a solid brick wall with a roar of shattering stone, disappearing into the cloud of debris.
Riftel’s chest heaved as he coughed up blood from the strain of quick rune succession. He squinted through the dust, searching for signs of his opponent.
Seeing that Azrealt did not reemerge from the building, Riftel breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the blood off of the corner of his mouth. ‘Now that he’s dealt with I’ll phone in to have that guy, or at least his body, secured.’ Looking down at the unfinished rune he was working on, Riftel got back to work.
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“Victoria and Huranti, you two take the southeast exit. Tokei, we’ll get your companions and leave through the northern exit.”
Victoria and Huranti broke away from us and headed in a different from us. As I ran behind Otome I saw the figures of Farthington and Nanik ahead of us.
Coming up to them I called out, “Hey guys we need to leave. Things have gone south. We’ll follow Otome here out of Cielmouth and into Ardem to get out of the fray.”
Nanik took in the news without so much as a blink, only giving a small, almost resigned nod. “I had a feeling something like this would happen.”
Farthington, though, was a different story. His face was drawn, eyes wide with the unmistakable frustration of someone caught off guard. “Of course,” he muttered bitterly, hands clenching and unclenching. “The one job I planned to take easy, and now we’re neck-deep in this mess.”
Otome glanced back, not unsympathetic but firm. “Vent later. Once we’re out of Cielmouth, you can take all the time you want to complain. For now, keep it together. You’re gonna need to stay sharp if you wanna get through this.”
Leading us to an old and unused room Otome engaged one of her mechanical gauntlets to crush the lock and swing open the door. Inside, a wooden ladder lead upward to who know’s where.
“That’s quite the impressive mechanical exoskeleton you have here. How did you procure it here in Cielmouth of all places, especially with an extremely strict ban on this sort of technology?” Nanik asked with his strangely monotone voice that sounded like he was constantly in the process of narrating a documentary.
Otome’s eyes flicked to him. “It’s nothing special. I put it together with spare parts from new construction pipes and a few trinkets Jason or Vargo brought from outside the country.” She motioned to the ladder. “We’ll climb to the roof of an art shop near Moon Dallah, then hop from rooftop to rooftop until we’re out of immediate danger. Once we’re close to the forest at Ardem’s border, we’ll drop back down to ground level. From there, it’s a straight shot.”
She started up the ladder, and I followed, with Nanik and Farthington close behind. As I neared the top, Otome was already standing outside, scanning our surroundings. I hauled myself up, joining her on the roof, and took in the bird’s-eye view of the Bakhlav marketplace sprawled below.
‘Neuro, can you map the quickest route to the forest at Ardem’s border?’
[This will take a moment. I’ll notify you when the path is mapped, Mom.]
I was still taking in the sight when Otome suddenly tackled me, sending us both sliding down the sloped roof, shingles breaking away beneath us. An explosion rocked the building, shaking its foundation. The edge of the roof rushed toward us. Thinking quickly, I summoned a blade of data, slamming it into the tiles to anchor myself just before the drop-off. Beside me, Otome drove her gauntlet into the roof, her exoskeleton whirring as she pulled herself back up.
A voice cut through the chaos, smooth and mocking. “Well, that’s unfortunate. Seems this will take a bit more effort. At least we finally got some backup.”
Turning, I saw the speaker: a man standing atop a nearby building’s chimney, tipping his top hat with a smirk. Flanking him were four men in light plate armor, watching us with determined, predatory eyes.