The wind whipped through the street, momentarily sweeping away the clouds of dust that had been churned up in the War Golem's assault. The construct in question was laying in the wreckage of a warehouse, caustic industrial ingredients eating at the surface of its stony body. Even as the acid left pockmarks in the golem's limbs and torso, the self-repair functionality had already begun to take effect. Stone flowed like water from out of the rubble pile, into the golem's legs, and up to the rest of its bulk, fresh stone and metal scrap replacing the damage it had taken in the battle.

The construct paid no attention to the damage it had taken, or to its repairs. It was singularly focused on a steel girder that had been slammed down atop it. The beam was wedged into its torso, the weight of it pinning it down, for now. The massive stony fingers of the golem dug into the beam, and began bending it up and away.

In the middle of the street, Captain Agatha Grimm and Rathus McGaff stood stock-still, fixed on the spot by the vision of annihilation which had appeared before them. Floating at about roof level, some two stories up, their attache, the Star Mage Kugelblitz had begun casting her "Specialty."

"Captain!" Kugelblitz called down. "I've already reached the Horizon Event! It's too late to stop the casting!" The wind whipped around her, sending her coat billowing out behind her, held on only by the clasp at her neck. Between her hands, the blue sphere of her Domain was glowing with a powerful light, and within it, a tiny ball, completely devoid of any light or features. A Black Hole.

The Star Mage continued to pour magic power into the Domain, which was immediately absorbed into the Black Hole.

Rathus stared up at Kugelblitz, half-crouched and ready to sprint at a moment's notice. He had already holstered his weapon, and was standing uneasily, bracing himself as if he expected the ground to suddenly collapse.

"Captain, I don't recognize that spell from the dossier. I haven't seen her cast it before, either. Should we be worried?" he asked.

Grimm glanced over at him. "There's a lot of spells that she knows but doesn't disclose. You may have noticed that she's a bit... unorthodox when it comes to dealing with authority and regulations."

Rathus tactfully decided to say nothing in response.

"Besides," Grimm continued, "this one is in the dossier. This is the 'Kugelblitz Specialty'."

He scanned back to his memories of the dossier he had received, when the Irregular Unit 415 had been formed. There were a number of folders, one for each member of his team, containing important information on their background, abilities, personality, and other useful information. As much as he was cleared to know, that is. As a new recruit, the copy he had been given was heavily classified. Entire pages of Captain Grimm's mission history were nothing but black lines. For that matter, so was the entry for Vyaz's favorite food. That one had left him puzzled.

Among the rest of the information, the section on Kugelblitz was not heavily redacted, but was noticeably sparse. There was a mention of her 'Specialty', however, but all specifics of its nature were classified, and it was only described as 'an extremely powerful combination of Star Magic and Law' to be used 'as a last resort, or as an alpha strike with the intent and effect of utterly annihlating opposition forces on a city-wide scale.'

Mechanics, details, specifics, all of that information had been entirely classified. Rathus' mind raced as he stared at the small back ball. Why? How?

He gave a nervous laugh as he looked up at the Star Mage, her features distorted by the light as it twisted around the Black Hole.

"That's her 'Specialty', huh? I was wondering what it looked like. I have to admit, Captain, that it doesn't look very intimidating, as far as weapons go."

Grimm grunted. "Neither do you."

Rathus flushed. "A-Apologies, Captain! I'll uh, try harder." He threw off a quick salute.

Agatha stared at him for a moment. "I wasn't...well, whatever. Follow me."

At that, she sprinted and leapt. The gold lines of her Vow empowered her, flashing as she pushed off. Her feet left a small crater as she leapt the full height of a three story building, landing on the roof. Rathus, not benefiting from such mad hops, instead scaled one of the few standing light poles, leaping across to clamber up the last few feet of the building. When he made it up, Grimm was standing on top of a smokestack, scouting out the area around them.

"You seem, ah, rather calm, Captain," he noted. He glanced down at the War Golem, which was tearing and folding back the steel girder, splitting it like a banana. It was still pinned for the moment, however. Captain Grimm had wedged the girder pretty well into the wall when she slammed it down.

Agatha shook her head. "It's not that I'm calm, it's more that there's nothing we can really do at this point, besides mitigate." She scanned the horizon. "Help me find the direction with the least people and buildings."

Rathus looked out over the horizon, to view the city on all sides. They happened to be pretty close to the center, perhaps a little closer to the north edge of town.

"Mitigate..." he whispered to himself then, turning to his Captain, "Why is it too late, exactly? Can't she just dismiss the spell?"

Grimm glanced over at the Star Mage, who was floating in midair, with her Domain held in front of her. She had her upper body angled such that she was pointing directly at the War Golem, and continued to pour energy into her Domain.

"No," Grimm replied, "If she aborts her casting early, she can reduce the energy inside her Domain and dismiss it, or just release it as a much weaker attack. But if she charges it too long, she reaches what the Etymologists call a 'Horizon Event', and it transforms from a fireball into that Black Hole you see. I guess it's something like all the energy compressed into a single point? I won't pretend to understand how it works. Once it hits that stage, there's no going back. No way to safely release it."

Rathus followed her gaze, and gave a sage nod to suggest (erroneously) that he understood.

"So, is Horizon Event the move's Name?"

Grimm shook her head. "No, the move isn't Named."

Rathus gave a small sigh, visibly relaxing. "Well, that's a relief. It can't be all that strong then, right?"

His Captain did not respond at first, and continued to scan the horizon, appearing to wrestle with how to respond. Finally, she replied, "The Etymologists specifically refused to give it a Name, for fear that if it were empowered, it would become an existential threat."

"Ah," Rathus choked, paling slightly. "I see."

He looked about the rooftop. Kugelblitz wasn't that far off, maybe two buildings down, less than 50 meters. If her Specialty was that powerful...

"Should we be running?" he asked, "What's the minimum safe distance?"

Kugelblitz, apparently eavesdropping, cackled suddenly. "NO SUCH THING!" she declared, in a triumphant howl. Rathus whipped back to Agatha, searching her face for confirmation. Captain Grimm waved dismissively.

"It's a shaped blast. Her Domain routes all of the force of the attack in the direction she's aiming. You could stand directly behind her and be fine. Probably." She went back to her scan of the horizon. "What we need to do is pick a direction for her to fire, because when she does, it's going to completely obliterate the golem, and probably a few miles of town. We pick the direction with the least collateral damage, then get the golem in position so she can line up the shot.

Miles... Rathus tried to put the numbers out of mind, instead turning his attention to the task at hand. He scrutinized the cityline carefully, dedicating to memory the ever-shifting flow of bodies in the street, carts, boats, and position of the buildings. It was difficult work, and even with his eidetic memory, his head was abuzz with calculations. He clutched at the first obvious solution.

"Maybe... along the river? We'd hit the least buildings that way."

Grimm considered it. "Maybe. But with all the ships and docks, that might still wind up catching a lot of people. Plus, if her attack skims the river, we might just wind up releasing clouds of boiling steam into the ci-"

Agatha suddenly arched backwards, as a massive steel girder blurred through the air, stabbing through the space her head had been moments before. She continued to lean back, struggling to balance on her chimney-perch, but was knocked violently from where she stood, as she was struck full-force by the bent portion of girder, from where the War Golem had rent it apart during its escape. The jagged metal slammed askance into the Gun Knight, sending her crashing violently to the roof as the girder continued into the next street.

Agatha cracked the roof inwards as she collided, Her limbs were jutting out at odd angles, and her breastplate was rent inwards. The lines on her body began to glow brilliantly, and she grit her teeth, growling as her bones began to snap back into place. She jerked suddenly, breathing in fits and spasms, then snatched at her breastplate with her newly-formed limbs, tearing apart the straps and hurling it off of her. Beneath, her shirt was sitting sickeningly concave on her chest, where the breastplate had been shoved in against her.

No longer constrained by the armor, her Vow continued to work at healing her, popping the ribs back into place, and expanding her chest to its normal size and shape. She stood shakily, giving a venomous look at the damaged armor.

"That armor was Overlaid with Adamantite, damn it," she spat.

Rathus examined the breastplate, seeing the sheen fade away slowly, as the Name of Adamantite slowly unwove from the metal, leaving it mundane steel.

"It must be getting stronger," Rathus observed. "It wasn't hitting anywhere near this hard earlier, Captain."

Agatha rolled her shoulder, stretching the joints, which were always a little tight after she healed from a combo of broken and dislocated limbs.

"There's a good chance of that, but that's not what I'm worried about." She jerked her thumb to the damaged breastplate. "That stuff is EXPENSIVE. Command is going to chew me out about this. Anyways, get ready for-"

They were interrupted suddenly, as a horrendous screech split the air. The golem had freed itself from the wreckage, having thrown the girder at Captain Grimm. It stood, towering at its full eight, amidst the wreckage of the warehouses and the street. It twisted about its waist, slowly, before suddenly springing into action. Agatha brought up her hand, having snatched an autorifle from her Holdster in an instant, to bring it up defensively as the golem quickly turned and leapt away from the knights.

"Wha-" Agatha began, lowering the gun. The construct landed with a crash in the next street over, one foot plunging through a dock and into the river. Screams of terror pitched into the air as it sank one ship practically by accident, shoving it down into the water as leverage to withdraw its drenched leg. It turned and seized another ship by the mast, attempting to lift it out of the water.

"Damn it!' Captain Grimm shouted, already leaping from the building and sprinting towards the construct.

Rathus fell into step behind her. "Why isn't it attacking us?" he asked.

"It's rampaging!" she shouted, "Our Dracula killed the person controlling the golem, so it went haywire."

"Did the Dracula-" Rathus began.

"No. Musashi and Vyaz went after him. That means we have to deal with this on our own, though. We need to get the construct into position so that Kugelblitz can take the shot. I didn't get as long to analyze as I wanted, but it looks like 10 degrees off of Northeast is our best option. That should be maybe five hundred casualties at most, with any luck."

"Five hundred..." Rathus skidded to a stop, his gait thrown off by the figure. "Captain, exactly how big is this attack?!"

"Big." Agatha reached into her Holdster and pulled out a new weapon as she ran. "A golem rampaging in the middle of a port town is going to kill a lot more than five hundred, McGaff. Don't fall apart on me here, we still have a job to do."

Rathus continued after her, and the golem drew into full sight as it walked. It had torn the mast off of the ship, letting the boat itself fall sideways into the water. It was amusing itself by tearing chunks out of the building and tossing them on people as they ran. Rathus stared in disgust, until another thought came across his mind.

"Wait, Musashi and Vyaz went after the Dracula, right?"

Grimm nodded and grunted in the affirmative, saving her breath as they ran.

"Do we know what direction they went? If we're going to be picking a direction to fire, then..."

Agatha said nothing, her features tightening into an anguished scowl.

"Let's keep our fingers crossed." She said gravely.

The War Golem had lost interest in his game of 'catch', and was now swinging the mast ahead of it, The mainsail of the mast was still holding, for now, and some of its targets were lucky enough to merely be swept off the street and into the water. Others were less lucky, as bodies were pulverized, barrels were exploded, crates were smashed open, and storefronts were laid to waste. The citizens fled the nightmarish scene, as quickly the area began to resemble the ruined battleground where Rathus and the others had first fought the construct.

Captain Grimm lifted the weapon she had pulled out, a Star Magic gun. However, calling it a gun was a bit charitable, as it lacked bullets, or a proper firing mechanism. It would technically be better classified as a type of magic wand. The gun in question was a long stock, similar to a rifle or shotgun. Atop the barrel-less body of the gun, a bronze statue of a dragon perched, laying along the length, clutching the gun body with its claws. It was bright and polished, with a silver filigree about the important details. The dragon extended its neck forwards, forming a makeshift barrel, ending in its open mouth.

Agatha depressed a sigil on the gun, and the wings lifted off of the dragon, popping into place to form a targeting reticule with the two claws on the "elbow" of the wings. She lifted the gun to aim, bracing it against her shoulder, then pulled the trigger. A ball of fire the size of an orange blasted out of the Dragun's mouth, flying to impact the golem in the back of the head, where it exploded into a violent fireball, easily 10 feet across. The fire engulfed the mast as well, setting the sail alight.

The golem reeled from the explosion, and whipped around to face the pair of Gun Knights. Agatha lifted her free arm and waved, letting out a sharp whistle as she did so. "OVER HERE! COME GET ME!" She taunted the golem, lifting her gun to shoot another fireball at its bulk.

The construct protected its face with its hands, falling backwards a step or two, before taking the offensive. The golem seemed to notice the burning mainsail, and tore it off, tossing it aside before it pivoted, swinging the mast at the pair of Knights with unbelievable force. The massive wooden pole bounced and rolled off the cobblestones as it veered towards them. Agatha tossed her Dragun safely to Rathus, before twisting on the spot, bringing her fist up into a powerful punch

The Vow of the Gun Knights flowed through her, as Captain Grim reeled back and struck the oncoming wooden pole. The force of the blow sent her skidding back several a few inches, kicking up cobblestones beneath her feet, but she managed to hold herself upright. The mast itself wasn't as luck, shattering at the point of contact. Carried by the momentum of the golem's swing, the top portion of the mast flipped and crashed off the cobblestones, before slamming into the very ship it had been torn from, like some kind of fucked-up family reunion.

Agatha clenched her fist, then shook it out, wincing with pain. She turned and gestured to Rathus, who threw the Dragun back to her, dumbfounded. The golem was looking with confusion at the broken mast, and seemed to come to a conclusion of a sort, jerking its arm to the side to bury the splintered end of the mast through the side of the building next to it, shattering glass and ruining a section of the wood wall. The mast jutted out into the air, as splinters and sawdust billowed up around it.

The golem stared at it for a moment, watching the swirl of dust, before its attention dwindled, and it turned, headed towards a crowd of people huddled in a nearby building for safety. A fireball slammed into the side of its head, drawing its attention back to the Gun Knights. It began to move towards them, when another fireball impacted its chest, slowing its advance and leaving a pit of molten slag that quickly scabbed over with new rock.

Agatha and Rathus turned and ran, with the golem in pursuit. They turned down an alley, and the golem slammed through it behind them, its arms scraping the sides of the wall and showering the alley with bricks. Rathus vaulted a trash can, leaping over it and tipping it on its side, leaving it to be crushed underfoot seconds later. Captain Grimm turned and fired another shot, to ensure the golem stayed hot on their tail. As she lifted her arm to fire, a flash of light caught her eye. The gold of her Vow was flickering, growing dimmer and brighter. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, but she steeled herself. She turned to her subordinate.

"Rathus, I was trying to avoid it if possible, but it looks like you're going to need to use your Vow. If I go any longer...

"Yes, Ma'am!" Rathus said. Both of them left the rest of her sentence unfinished, as they turned a corner. They both knew well the costs involved with activating the Vow, and thinking about it right now wouldn't help them any. They had a job to do. Rathus pulled his Warrant of Release out of his belt pouch. He turned to the Captain.

"Captain, if I'm empowered by the Vow, I may be able to employ some of my Puroreso techniques on it. If I'm strong enough to pin it or keep it in place for long enough, we might be able to find another way to shut it down, then Kugelblitz can shoot her Specialty in-"

Rathus wasn't able to finish the thought, as the golem suddenly lunged, delivering a lightning-fast uppercut. Its knuckles scraped through the ground, sending up sparks, and it caught Rathus from below, before the Gun Knight even had a chance to dodge. The massive stone fist slammed into his chest, scrambling his thoughts, and shattering his body. Agatha watched as Rathus went rocketing up into the air, spiraling away.

Rathus soared upwards, time seeming to slow down as his augmented mind assessed things. Looks like it was a pretty nice day, he thought as he floated upwards. Not many clouds, but still enough to look nice, and provide a bit of shade every now and then. Lots of dust down below. That's not as nice. Somebody should clean that up. He gathered his thoughts a bit, his discipline being one of the first things to reassert itself. Let's think. He was up in the sky, which meant he'd have a bad landing coming. Looks like he was sent at least four, maybe five stories up. Body? His left leg was shattered, flopping about like jelly. His right leg was mangled, but somehow not broken. Right arm broken. five ribs broken, one of which was felt shattered entirely. Hm... felt?

Sensation suddenly sprang back into his mind, wracking him with pain. Yes, he thought, that was a mistake. Could have done without that. His fists clenched in pain, and he felt something in one of them. His Warrant. He had managed to hold onto it somehow. The Vow would heal him, if he could recite the warrant. He took a breath and realized that he hadn't, in fact, taken a breath. His lung must be punctured. Can't recite the vow if he can't speak. His memory kicked in, reminding him of the two high-quality healing potions that were provided to him, in his belt pouch. No. Correction, there was one left. He gave the other to Musashi, after his friend had used one of his own after the cage match.

That would have come in handy now. One potion probably wasn't going to be enough to heal everything. Still, if he wanted to survive the landing...

Rathus shoved his hand into his belt pouch, ignoring the screams of pain from his ruined body. He pulled out a small phial, only large enough to hold an ounce or two of liquid. A bright red liquid sloshed around inside, as the wind whipping past Rathus threatened to tear the container out of his grip. His ascent slowed, and he floated weightless for a moment, before he began to fall.

The Gun Knight didn't have time for subtlety or nuance. He quickly shoved the phial into his mouth, and bit down on it, cracking the glass. He drank the potion, hoping he wasn't swallowing any glass shards. He was glad that Captain Grimm had spent the time to argue with the quartermaster. Originally, they were going to be given-lower grade healing potions. The sort made with Star Magic, that were basically just a spell in a bottle. They worked well enough, sure, but could only restore general damage. They were useless against broken limbs, heavy organ damage, blood loss, or more severe injuries.

This potion, on the other hand, was the real thing. Made by the most highly-trained Alchemists, masters of Naming and Natural Law, who knew the art of drawing out and distilling the True Name of Life itself. If he sold it, he could have fed a family of four for the better part of a year. Oh well. The potion flowed down his throat, and he began to feel the first tingle of its effects when he slammed into the ground.

Kugelblitz watched as the battered body of the Gun Knight was hurtled up and over the buildings, to come crashing back to earth. He bounced and rolled several times, coming to rest gently against the side of a building with a slam that absolutely shattered the doorframe.

Rathus lay on the ground, twitching and staring into the sky as the potion, indignant with this new damage, began to flow through his body. He should probably just... lay here for a bit. He felt his arms tingling and itching as the bones reset themselves, and the flesh began to knit itself back together. Breath suddenly filled his lungs as his ribs retracted back into place. His leg began to knit, and suddenly, the healing stopped as the Life within the potion was consumed fully. Agony still wracked his body but now he also itched all over, a consequence of the magical healing. The Gun Knight could breath, but his ribs were still not fully healed, and he doubted his legs would support his weight.

Kugelblitz called down to him. "Holy shit, are you alive?"

Rathus flopped his head to one side, to give her a weak thumbs-up, his arm lifting a few inches from the ground. "Just taking a breather," he croaked.

The Star Mage gave him an incredulous look, stunned out of her usual air of smug, disaffected superiority. "Uh, yeah. Sure, okay. Hey, you know I can't cast any healing spells right now, right?" She gestured with her head down to her Black Hole. "Actually, I'm about to run out of Mana soon. So, y'know, not to rush you or whatever, but if Grimm doesn't get into position, I'm gonna have to take the shot."

Rathus flopped his head back over to stare at the sky. Captain Grimm... Visions of the past entered his mind. Captain Grimm, giving him lessons on how to behave as a proper Gun Knight. Musashi, giving him lessons on how to behave as an improper Gun Knight. His old Puroreso sensei, Master Savage, and the lessons he learned, about inner focus, lessons about how to fight. Lessons bout how to deal with injuries...

Rathus reached into his ammo pouch, and pulled out a single bullet. He clenched the bullet between his teeth, and flipped over, biting down hard as the pain shot through his ruined legs and ribs, and as the maddening itch harassed the entirety of his body. His Warrant... He had dropped it when he hit the ground, and it was sitting in the middle of the street.

Lessons on how to move...

He pulled himself along the street, dragging himself towards the Warrant with his arms as his legs dragged behind him. He pulled himself along the street, until he felt the vellum within his hands. He lifted the Warrant to the sky, unfurling it.

Lessons on how to fight a larger opponent...

As the scroll of his Warrant unfurled, he thought back to what he was telling Agatha, before he was interrupted. He had an idea.

He cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"By this written Warrant, do I speak with the Authority and Intent of the Seat of the Emperor."

Meanwhile, Agatha was running, having traced the trajectory Rathus had taken after that impromptu game of golf the golem had played. Speaking of playing, the golem was currently entertaining itself by mashing the bricks of a house into the center, like a child forming a sand castle. Grimm fired the Dragun at the construct's face, blasting off a section of its head. It turned to her in a fury, slapping a handful of bricks onto the crater. She sprinted away, as it gave chase once more.

"In the name of Wylos The Conqueror, Emperor of the Eternal Star, as written and executed by the Imperial Regent, Dozarias Shado, I hereby activate my Vow."

The construct was now running full speed, and Agatha was having to draw on the power of her Vow just to keep ahead of it. It ran with a messy, loping gait, and every jerk to one side or the other brought its shoulder dipping into the sides of buildings, scoring a gouge in the side without even noticeably slowing the golem. Agatha panted, boggling at the War Golem's advance. Even if it was rampaging, how the hell did it still have this much power? It was continuing to get stronger, but showed no signs of running out of Intent. With its controller dead, it should be running on borrowed time.

Speaking of time- Agatha looked down at her hand. The light of her Vow was flickering. How long had she had it active now? Five minutes? More? She couldn't keep this up for much longer, but she knew at the same time that if she turned it off, there'd be no outrunning the Golem.

She burst out of the alley, into a street, where Rathus crouched, mangled, with his Warrant of Release billowing about him. As the Gun Knight saw his commanding officer, he stood, grimacing with pain as his damaged legs buckled and twisted grotesquely. Rathus let the cool wind wash over him, and fell into the mind-state and stances he had learned during his time at the House of the Rising Sun. The pain faded, and his focus intensified. He held the Warrant out and spoke, invoking the Vow within him.

"Let nothing stand in the way of the Emperor's Will, or the course of my mission."

His eyes began to glow a brilliant white. The glow pooled, and spilled out from his eyes, tracing straight lines across his body, forking off at right angles. The glowing lines disappeared under his armor, exiting again at his hands. As he stood, the lines flared to life, and his leg snapped back into place, his cuts and bruises began to mend. He stood tall as the golem caught sight of him, turning to beeline towards him.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"MCGAFF!" Agatha shouted, "I'm tapping you in! Take it three streets north of here, and two east, That'll put you at the right spot for-"

As she explained, Rathus suddenly bolted forwards, running full-tilt for the golem.

"Wha-?!"

Rathus suddenly leapt from the ground, launching himself directly at the golem, feet-first. The startled construct glanced down, in time to see the Gun Knight's flying kick punch THROUGH its leg, sundering it and sending shrapnel flying. Rathus continued his flight, landing with a roll before springing back to his feet. The golem, still mid-run and now bereft of a leg, toppled, rolling and smashing into a warehouse, destroying it utterly. Rathus stood at the ready.

"Rathus, what the hell are you doing?" Agatha chastised him. "We're running out of time! We need to get it to the killzone!"

Rathus landed and turned to face his commanding officer. He gave her a crisp salute. The golem was crawling from the wreckage, reaching out to seize its fallen limb. Rathus glanced at it before looking back to Captain Grimm.

"Captain, I'm Going To Have To Ask You To Trust Me. Ma'am." He said in his Vow's monotone, before throwing up another salute for good measure.

The golem, repaired, stood, testing its weight on its leg, before howling with rage and staring down the Gun Knight.

"Don't you start with the heroics too, McGaff! I swear to god, I don't need two Musashis. What, exactly, do you want me to trust you with? You- HEY!"

She shouted as he began running at the golem again. The construct sprang to meet him, drawing back a fist. Rathus drew back his own fist, and as the golem swung, he feinted a punch, before dropping flat to the ground, legs sliding ahead of him. He slide flat under the construct's blow, letting the wild swing momentarily throw it off balance, before he sprang up and delivered a sweeping kick to the side of the golem's far leg, tearing a chunk out of it and sending the golem toppling once more.

He turned and pointed up to the Star Mage floating nearby.

"KUGELBLITZ! Get Ready To Fire! You'll Know When!"

"God damn it..." Agatha swore under her breath. "Hey! You care to explain what this plan of yours is? You can't just say 'Trust Me' and refuse to elaborate further!"

Rathus turned to his Captain, and grinned a smile. "I thought of a better direction than north-east."

Grimm stared at him in confusion. As he made no apparent overtures to move from this spot, instead waiting for the Golem to right itself, her confusion gave way to anger.

"People's lives are on the line here, Rathus! You better have some really good reasoning, because if this is the direction you want to fire, we're gonna have a lot more than five hundred deaths!"

Rathus shook his head. "No. I Am Choosing Another Direction."

The golem stood, turning to face the Gun Knight. Rathus stood where he was, crouched low into a Puroreso stance. He inhaled slowly, and exhaled from his mouth in a low his. Towering above him, the golem took one step closer, looking down at the Gun Knight with a moment of curiosity.

"Get Ready, Kugelblitz." Rathus instructed.

Captain Grimm stared at him, gritting her teeth. She looked at the Dragun in her hands. She had already deactivated her Vow, but she might still be able to outmaneuver it, even if she couldn't outrun it directly. If Rathus didn't get moving soon...

She watched as the War Golem, staring down at the Gun Knight, simply lifted its massive foot, before bringing it down straight down onto the street. Agatha jerked back in surprise. She had been expecting him to dodge, or at least move. Now she had to live with the memory of him being pasted for the rest of her life. What the hell did he expect would... would...

Rathus McGaff had not dodged when he had the opportunity. Neither had he been flattened. The Gun Knight stood, crouched, in a crater amidst the pavements. His hands reached out over his head, arms spread wide to grip either side of the golem's foot. The golem stared down at its foot, leaning to the side to put more pressure onto it. The Gun Knight was pushed further into the crater, before he suddenly gave a war cry, screaming at the top of his lungs. Within the crater, the light of his Vow began to glow, blinding, as he pushed against the foot, and impossibly, began to lift it.

Rathus strained as he lifted, every muscle on his body standing out and twitching on his frame, his Vow glowing blindingly bright along the lines that traced his body. He pressed with all his might, muscles tensing, and in a clear violation of every rule of nature, LIFTED the War Golem from the street. The Gun Knight shouted a Puroreso battle cry, and began to twist his body, dragging the Golem across the street.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW?!" he roared, twisting as the glow of his Vow continued to intensify, a nimbus of light emanating around him. He took a deep breath as the Golem began to lift from the street, borne aloft by the momentum of the swing. Rathus focused, and began to invoke one of the few, select Named Moves he had learned during his training, his movements becoming amplified by the power inherent in the sacred Name given to the ability.

"RISING SUN SPECIAL TECHNIQUE: !"

The power of the Named Move flowed through him, amplifying his already augmented strength even further. He began to pick up speed, lifting the Golem higher and higher into the air. He screamed with effort, and began to bleed from the eyes and the nose, as the light of his Vow began to glow intense enough to blot out his figure. With one final twist, he released the golem, throwing the construct, against all possibility, up into the air.

"NOW!" he screamed, his voice hoarse, as he staggered back from the force of the throw.

Kugelblitz, startled into action, lifted her hands shifting to track the golem as it soared upwards. She began to recite law under her breath, quiet, and too quickly to make out any particular words. With the resonating of her voice, her Domain began to shift, extending and flattening on one side, to become a short, rounded cone, with the flat side facing the golem. The Black Hole within began to vibrate, destabilized as she changed the properties of the Law within the Domain.

She whispered, and the crushing, unrelenting force of gravity within the Domain began to stop its increase, and reverse, lessening quickly. The Black Hole warped and twisted, as the Singularity soon discovered it was no longer under the impossible pressure that had resulted in its compression. Kugelblitz turned her Domain as the golem flew through the blue air, with nothing but clouds and blue sky behind it. She continued to recite, shifting her Intent from the gravitic force to the reinforcement of her Domain's borders, amplifying it to redirect force, all in one direction.

She held it there for a moment, and then, tied to a single trigger phrase, reverted gravity to normal entirely, as she opened the flat end of her Domain.

The Black Hole warped within her Domain, and started to glow, before bubbling and expanding in the direction of her Domain's opening, doubling in size in a split second.

And then the sky turned to fire.

*********

Princess Ruth was laying by the pool, staring at the blank page of her journal. She peered over her sunglasses at the Gun Knight, who was currently in the middle of a set of squats. The pair had finished breakfast while Rathus had relayed the story and, after finishing, had gone about taking advantage of the End of the Line's relatively run-of-the-mill fitness yard.

"I believe I may have misheard you. Would you mind repeating that once more?"

Rathus grunted with exertion and stood, finishing the last of his squats. He reracked the barbell on the support beams, and stepped out of the curl rack. The princess watched him as he wiped his face with his towel.

"I threw the golem."

"Right," she replied, setting her pen down on the small table next to her chaise lounge. "That's what I thought you had said." Rathus merely shrugged, and walked over to the jacuzzi. A small 'out of order' sign hung on the front of it. He gave a wistful sigh.

"How, praytell, did you manage to throw a golem?" she asked, scrutinizing the Gun Knight.

"Hard work."

"Hard work?" Ruth echoed incredulously.

The Gun Knight shrugged. "Well, hard work, and a cocktail of powerful, Imperial-granted augmentations, and a Named Move." He winked at the princess. "But mostly it was the hard work."

"Which brings us to..." Ruth extended a hand towards the exercise equipment. The Gun Knight began some Puroreso stretches to cool down, spreading his arms wide for 'Heel Turn at Sunrise'.

"Physical fitness is important. Gotta stay in top shape."

Ruth pinched her brow, shaking her head slightly. "Rathus, you're literally a living weapon."

The Imperial Knight continued to flex, moving into 'Downward-Facing Cage Match'. "That's no excuse to skip leg day, yer highness."

Ruth simply sighed, leaning back in her chair. She opened her journal again, and began writing in it. A serving boy came out of the inn's back door, carrying a tray with a blended drink on it. He set it on the table next to the Princess, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Rathus. Ruth glanced at the drink and nodded to herself. The serving boy stood awkwardly near her, a young man with overly greasy hair, and a face full of acne. Ruth paid him no attention, instead leaning over to grab the drink and take a sip. The serving boy glanced at Rathus and gave a sheepish, servile smile, before looking back at Ruth and politely clearing his throat.

She seemed surprised by his presence, and looked at him over her sunglasses. "Can I help you?"

The young man opened and closed his mouth, but said nothing. He squirmed under her gaze, and gave her a wretched smile. The princess cocked an eyebrow, leaning back to gesture to herself, reclining on the lounge chair in her two-piece bathing suit. "What, do you like what you see?"

The serving boy's twitching froze entirely, and his countenance changed from awkward to terrified in an instant. His head whipped back and forth between Ruth and Rathus, and he began to stammer.

"Uh-I-I-bu-"

"You don't have to answer that," Rathus assured him. He reached into his belt pouch, which was tucked with his other affects on a nearby chair. Pulling out an iron Emone coin, Rathus tossed it to the young man. "Thanks."

The serving boy caught the coin and stammered out his thanks, before fleeing into the inn. Ruth watched him go, sipping on her drink, then suddenly jerked as realization hit her.

"MMM!" She set her drink down. "That was tipping, wasn't it? He wanted a tip!" Ruth sat up, staring after the serving boy as he re-entered the Inn, as if he was some rare animal. "Fascinating. So you just give them money for free?"

"Something like that," Rathus replied. He grabbed his belt from the table and put it on. The princess sat back down, and grabbed her drink.

"A little early, isn't it?" The Gun Knight asked, nodding to her glass. He grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and shrugged it on as well.

Ruth rolled her eyes. "It's non-alcoholic, Rathus. Give me a little credit."

The Gun Knight double-checked his affects as the princess finished jotting down the last part of his story in her journal.

"So, after utilizing hard work and magic to throw a golem into the air, what happens next?"

"Next," Rathus replied, "I have some errands to run." He gingerly grabbed his new hat and placed it atop his head, cocking it at an angle. He looked to the princess, who was already setting aside her journal, resignation clear on her face.

"Besides, it's not 'magic', it's Law. Magic is what Star Mages use."

Ruth leaned back in the chair, making no move to get dressed or otherwise get ready to head out for the day. "I thought Star Magic was a sort of Naming. Isn't that what the Dessites got as their Gift?"

Rathus shook his head. "Dessites weren't around for the First Inheritance. They don't have a Gift unless they're half-Dessite. Then they get the full Gift of their other parent, for the most part."

"So, Kugelblitz could use Law because-"

"Her mother was a Stentorian, yes."

Ruth finished off her drink and set it down on the table. She furrowed her brow. "If Star Magic isn't Law, and it isn't Naming, what is it?"

The Gun Knight shrugged. "Who knows. The Dessites brought it with them when Emperor Wylos first appeared. All I know is they need Mana to cast it, and it's breaks all kinds of rules. They can cast spells that affect an area even if people are in it, plus they can ignore the Riddle of Lead. Other things like that."

Ruth shrugged. "Well, it's not like I'll ever be able to use it, so I suppose it doesn't matter much to me beyond a passing interest. I'm fine just using their Artifacts. Speaking of!"

The princess reached over and set a small object on the table next to her. It was a square box about the size of a fist, with a brass funnel coming out of the top, curved off to one side in a shape reminiscent of a horn. A variety of sigils were embedded around the base of the device. Rathus quickly searched his memory, but came up blank. Whatever this Artifact was, it was new to him.

"Fancy gadget," he noted. "What's it do?"

Ruth preened somewhat, sweeping her hand towards it as if she were showing off the grand prize for one of those contests where you guess prices of common objects and win by guessing one dollar more than your opponent like some kind of asshole. Seriously, why is that allowed?

"You've never seen one? It's all the rage, Rathus, a must-have for the summer. If you don't have one, you simply MUST get one."

The Gun Knight said nothing, merely glancing at Ruth expectantly. She returned his gaze with a smug look of her own, and raised her finger to the device, pushing a sigil with a flourish.

"Observe."

The sigil lit up as her finger touched it, and the device began to vibrate, before the sigils flashed and went dark. The device fell still, letting out a sad burping sound. The princess stared down at it, eyes widening.

"Amazing," Rathus whispered, his voice breathless with mock reverence.

"N-no!" Ruth protested, whirling around and kneeling on the edge of her chair. She faced the Gun Knight and gestured towards the offending device, her face red with indignant embarrassment.

"That's not what it's supposed to do! It's supposed to put out a cool breeze from the opening! It works really well, and you can take it on the go!"

The Gun Knight chuckled. "Sounds handy." He watched as the Princess seized the device and turned it over, her countenance growing more worried as she rotated it every which way, pressing darkened sigils at random. When the Artifact gave no response, she began to shake it, eliciting a quiet rattle as the cone jostled a bit in the opening. The Gun Knight held out a hand to dissuade her.

"Hey, don't get too worried about it. It probably just ran out of Mana."

The princess turned to look at him incredulously, as if he had suggested the device was simply shy. "I haven't been using it THAT much. It recharges on its own, Rathus."

The Gun Knight shook his head. "Not exactly. Even if it's designed to charge up by itself, it still needs Mana. You ain't gonna find much Mana out in the woods. If you've lived most of yer life in big cities, it makes sense you'd take that sort of thing for granted."

Ruth lifted one hand, palm flat upwards, as she gestured around herself.

"You may have noticed, dear Rathus, that we currently are in a city. I feel that it may simply be broken."

The Gun Knight paused and looked around. "Huh. You're right. That is odd." He scratched at his chin as he turned to face the center of town, the direction memorized from the maps he had obtained from the Guardhouse. He couldn't actually see what he was looking for, as the Inn was in the way, but as Ruth would say, it was the principle of the matter. "I wonder if something's wrong with the Astral Well."

"Astral Well?" Ruth looked in the direction the Gun Knight was facing, but could see nothing except the wooden face of the Inn, and the modest swimming pool, empty save for a pair of children splashing around. She turned to him for an explanation.

Rathus blinked and gave the princess a doubtful look. "Never visited one, I take it?" When Ruth shook her head in response, the Gun Knight sniffed and nodded, turning away from her to gesture back towards the doors of the Inn.

"Well, as it happens, that's the first stop on my list of errands. You'll get a better idea if you see one first-hand. You should get dressed."

Ruth gave a theatrical sigh, flopping onto her stomach, her hair splaying about around her, and her arms and legs hanging off the sides of the chair.

"Oh, very well, Rathus. If I must." She sat up, stretching and adjusting her swimsuit before gathering her affects from the table and putting them back into her bag. "I'll have you know that I had only just gotten comfortable, but if you need to drag me along for your errands, I shall be dragged with dignity and grace."

Rathus gave her a low curtsy, grabbing the edges of his jacket. "A thousand pardons, princess." He droned, voice thick with mock sincerity. Ruth, unimpressed, rolled her eyes and headed back to the Inn to change.

**********

The town of Pheasantgrove squatted on the edge of Lake Occident, flowing out from its original walls like a bowl over-filled with pudding. The area had once been richly wooded, but as the fort became a village, became a town, more and more of the surrounding trees had been felled to provide lumber for the many houses and buildings that had gone up. Now, much of the surrounding area was farmland, the trees of the Bronzewood having retreated further westward.

It was on the burgeoning edge of civilization, as the lands beyond the Bronzewood wore the grip of the Empire very loosely, living beyond the reach of the Iron Path, the railroad system which connected the Empire. It was a town slowly on the cusp of becoming a city, and eager to prove itself. As if to emphasize their ambition, they had even built the railroad tracks THROUGH the lake, rather than bothering to go around. A high bridge spanned from one side of the lake to the other, jutting up in the center high enough for ships to pass through and reach the river's mouth.

Around the lake, only small patches of forest remained, within which lived a variety of fauna. The pheasants were gone, but then the pheasants had never been there to begin with. The forest was thick with quail, which the founding settlers had misidentified when placing the first foundations. However, despite its surplus of life, the forest had been quiet as of late, with a tension spreading throughout the wood, stilling all the creatures which lived within it.

The hush spoke of a dark presence in the forest, which had not gone unnoticed in the town. The hunters and woodsmen discussed it in whispers as they met. Something strange had appeared in the forest, one suggested. A dark presence that all nature abhorred: a telemarketer. No, the huntsman's friends reassured him, it was probably just some bullshit monster or something. No need to worry. Just hire an Adventurer.

But still, the dread hung over the forest. The town had not yet fallen under the same spell, but there was an air of worry, of loud cries and quiet whispers as tensions grew, and the sense of dread began to bud, fear of something unknown, something yet to come. The town squatted down at the edge of the civilized world, waiting to see what was coming for it, waiting by the proverbial campfire, watching the darkness at the forest's edge and searching for the telltale sign of impending death: the flash of fangs, or glint of claws, or eerie warble of a voice asking you about timeshares.

In the center of the village, a tower stood, jutting higher than most of the other buildings, as tall as a clocktower. The building had a squat base of brick, large enough to contain perhaps a single room, with a central spire that jutted up into the sky. The spire was a dark, polished metal that glinted in the sun. The spire's height and the fact that it lacked any windows or edifices gave it an otherworldly, mystical air, an aesthetic that was further supported by the lighthouse-like construction at the spire's top. The tower's crown sat imperiously, a lantern-like cage of brass, open on all sides, with clawlike fixtures securing a massive, clear crystal, larger than any man.

The whole affair gave one the impression that the crystal should be glowing, because it just seemed appropriate, a giant crystal in a tower basically HAS to glow, right? That's fantasy staple number one. Nevertheless, the crystal sat inert, only barely refracting the sunlight, dull and lifeless. As they approached, Rathus was of a similar opinion, and a similar concern.

"Oh!" Ruth exclaimed, "That's an Astral Well. Yes, we have one of those back home. I suppose I never connected the two concepts."

"Hm." Rathus grunted non-commitally. He was barely paying attention, instead scanning the plaza ahead of them. It looked like there was a particularly large crowd, many of its number speaking and gesturing animatedly. He had two ideas of what it might be, but based on the event schedule he'd received from the guardhouse, there was no festival today. That left the other option.

His hand instinctively dropped to his belt, fingers twitching above his Holdster. He dipped his finger to brush against the leather, concentrating for a moment. The grip of his favored revolver, the Single-Action Imperial, appeared within the Holdster. He brushed his fingers against its grip, then held his left hand out in Ruth's direction, palm up. The princess looked at it, then, quizzically at him.

"Stay close," he instructed her, his voice a low rumble in his throat. "Looks like there's an angry mob over there." He gestured towards the crowd ahead with a nod of his head.

Ruth stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at the depth of the crowd, then gave the Gun Knight a patronizing shake of the head.

"That's not a mob, Rathus."

The pair drew closer to the tower, and the voices from the crowd clarified, shouting over each other in a din to be heard. The throng of people milled about restlessly, and a palpable sense of agitation rolled out from the mass of bodies in waves. Rathus looked dubiously to the princess, arching an eyebrow.

"Looks like a mob to me. Y'can hear how angry they are, can't you?"

Ruth raised her hands into a high society shrug, shaking her head.

"I know you often have cause to doubt me, Ser Rathus, but let me assure you. I am still a Princess, and one of the first things they teach the children of Nobility is how to recognize an angry mob."

She pointed delicately towards the top of the crowd. "See how none of them have torches or pitchforks?"

Rathus looked to the crowd to see that she was telling the truth, but rolled his eyes. "Listen, just because-"

"Rathus." She fixed him with a stern, disapproving gaze. "Trust me. There's a science to these things. An angry mob will ALWAYS have at least one torch and/or pitchfork. It doesn't matter what the mob is made out of, or where it forms, or what they're angry about. This sort of thing just seems to happen. It's an observable phenomenon."

She cocked her head, looking over the crowd with an analytical darting of eyes. She scratched her chin as she drew closer.

"Looks like it's a Type B 'Discontent Rabble'," She determined. She pointed out an older woman near the back of the crowd, who was lifting a rolling pin, holding it high above the crowd. "You see that that woman there is holding her rolling pin out above her head, but look at how she's holding it. She's barely grasping it with her fingertips, rather than clutching it like a weapon. In other words, she is trying to lift it as high as possible, trying to get somebody's attention, not trying to threaten."

Rathus nodded slowly, taking it in. "Huh. Interesting. So what does a Type B Rabble mean for us?"

The princess reached out and took his hand, shifting a bit closer as they neared the edge of the crowd.

"It means that they're unhappy about a situation, but tread carefully, lest their anger shift onto you."

"Duly noted."

They began to make their way through the crowd, and Rathus scanned his surroundings, dropping into his battle focus, picking out every detail within the press of people. A few heads were turning their way as he passed, but no lingering attention. Nobody making for them, no opportunists trying to get the drop. The people themselves were talking angrily with each other, standing with the sort of bitter comraderie that came with two people who find common ground to complain about, like coworkers discussing their horrid boss, or two strangers badmouthing a story both parties hated.

He glanced at the clothing and equipment. Few in the crowd carried weapons, but many carried implements which, for all their utility when it came to ending a life, were definitely NOT "weapons", such as craftsman hammers, kitchen knives, shovels, picks, and so on. Most of the crowd didn't have these in hand, keeping them sheathed, strapped to belts or straps, slung over a shoulder, or poking out of an apron, as if they were simply on their way to their work. The few that were in hand seemed to be of a higher quality, and Rathus caught the telltale sign of a sigil on several. He was starting to get a picture of the situation.

His suspicious were confirmed as they drew closer, and he began to see more variety in the crowd. This wasn't just peasants or tradesmen. Here were the finer clothes of high-society types, gesturing wildly while holding strange devices, shouting with shrill voices to be heard over the rest. They drew closer to the front of the crowd, close enough to see a short fence, placed around the base of the Astral Well. The fence was weighted down with heavy stones, and looked like it had been thrown together in a hurry. The fact that they had whipped this up instead of using Law to make a more powerful barrier (or at least to reinforce the fencing) spoke volumes.

On the other side of the fence, a portly man in a tweed suit was desperately trying to placate the crowd, stammering and making plaintive gestures while he sweat profusely. He wore the badge of an Imperial officer, the markings and shape of which informed Rathus that the man belonged to the Imperial Municipal and Infrastructure Management department. Two Imperial Soldiers were flanking the officer, standing and doing their best to look important. Rathus noted that it was the same pair of soldiers they had met at the town gate.

"Looks like something's gone wrong," Rathus whispered. "He's sweating like a pig in a poker game."

The Princess began to nod, then stopped mid-action, screwing up her face and looking at the Gun Knight.

"Like a... what? What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

Rathus flushed somewhat, and gave a halting reply. "It's- Well- I mean, pigs ain't good at poker."

The princess stared at him, deadpan. "Right. Of course not."

The Imperal Knight coughed, shrugging and turning away from her. "It's just an expression, yer highness. I wasn't the one who came up with it," he lied.

The princess, charitably, let the discussion drop, and they moved nearer to the front of the tower, close enough to pick out specific conversations.

"-kind of nonsense is this? If I had MY way, I would make-"

"-paying customer! I have an annual plan, and I DEMAND a refund for-"

"-out? How can that even happen? This is ridi-"

At the head of the crowd, the municipal officer wrung his hands on the front of his jacket, clearing his throat. He lifted his hands, doing his best to placate the crowd.

"A-As of this time, we do not have a current expected timeframe for the tower to become operational again! Please do not worry, as we still have a supply of Mana available. We will be undergoing rationing for the time being, so we'll all need to work together on this! W-we have tickets here, so we are currently offering a-a discretionary ration per day per person."

A burly blacksmith, thick enough with muscles and hair that he looked like somebody had shoved a bear into a tunic, stepped forward, mustache bristling angrily.

"Aye? Well, my new forge is sitting hungry, ya wee toad. How much can ye give me?" He crossed his arms, creasing the thick leather of his apron as his muscles stood out like cords of iron.

The official paled and looked down, unable to meet the blacksmith's eye as he stammered his reply.

"E-Each person will get a daily discretionary budget of o-one thousand Thaums, to be split between thei-"

An outraged cry surged forth from the crowd. The blacksmith's eyes bulged, incredulous.

"A THOUSAND?! I can barely run my forge for an HOUR with that. How the hell d'ya expect me to make ends meet? I saved up a year's worth of profits to buy that damn Mana Forge, and not two months out, you're telling me I can only run it for an hour a day?!"

"Calm down, Bartholomew." a voice purred. A woman stepped forward, wearing a bespoke dress that hugged her frame. She held a cigarillo between two perfectly manicured fingers. She took a drag and glanced at the official, making a point of tossing back her long black hair. She lifted up and carefully shook a small oil lamp, festooned on all sides with spouts and crafted from colored glass or gemstones. There was a prominent sigil on the center, along with a few others, likely for finer control.

It looked expensive, matching her dress and the ermine shawl she wore. While she was slender in build, it was readily apparent that her fine clothes and Artifact were not her most prolific assets, as they were eclipsed by two more significant endowments. In case it was not apparent, that is to say that she had massive breasts. Huge ol' bazonka-donks that stunned any witnesses and boggled the mind. She was an absolute titty monster. Just so that we're clear on that point.

She shot a lazy, half-lidded glance to the blacksmith, and she spoke melodiously, with a sharp bite underneath, like a harp made out of teeth. "You're not the only one who needs Mana, you know. You're holding up the line~"

"Zetsurin." the blacksmith grunted, "Is yer whorehouse so lacking in business ye came out to bother the rest of us?"

Zetsurin took a puff of her cigarillo and blew it towards the man, earning her a glare as he waved the smoke out of his face.

"It's a bordello, you oaf."

"Bordella, whorehouse. What's the difference?" Bartholomew grunted, pushing past her to take his place closer to the fence. She regarded him dispassionately.

"It's a matter of class, which may be a new concept to you," she replied, then after a moment's thought, added, "And different tax codes."

She delicately, but irresistibly, grabbed him by the back of his apron and lifted him bodily off the ground, setting him gently back to his previous position.

"And you'll have to pardon me. I'm in rather a bit of a hurry."

She took her place at the front of the line, lifting the oil lamp to show it to the official.

"I'll be needing 1500 Thaums, please. I have three appointments today for the 'Octopus Garden' special, and I need this up and running."

The sweating official gave her an agonized look as she thrust the device into his hands. He looked it over and shakingly offered it back to her. She simply looked at it impatiently, making no move to take it back from him.

"A-ah as I said, we are unfortunately experiencing Mana shortages. W-we have our backup supply, and once the trains are back up and running, they will be sending in Mana Batteries to replenish our supply, b-but until then, we are kindly asking all citizens to c-comply with rationing. W-we will be taking tickets to supply you with your ration of Mana for the day, so... so take a ticket."

He made another move to hand the device back to her. She stared at him, taking another puff of her cigarette.

Bartholomew shoved past her, snatching the lamp from the official's hand and shoving it against Zetsurin's midsection.

"P-please?" The man asked. The bordello matron rolled her eyes, and took the lamp back, shooting daggers at the blacksmith.

"Don't you waste Mana on her little toys. I have actual IMPORTANT work to get done!" Bartholomew shouted. "Now, I'm gonna need at least 5000 Thaums for the day, if I want to get all my work done. I got a portable battery here, so just fill it up, and I'll be on my way."

Zetsurin laughed. "What on earth do you need 5 hours of Mana for? You just bought that Mana Forge, didn't you? I thought the whole point of it was that it can heat up instantly the second you need it to. Don't tell me you're just leaving it on the entire time you're smacking away at things on the anvil?" She tittered as the blacksmith colored, his face turning a ruddy pink as a vein popped out on his neck. He whirled around to scream at her.

"Why don't you just FUCK OFF, HARLOT!" he roared

"That's exactly what I'm TRYING to do," she retorted, leaning in close.

"P-please. The line..." the official muttered.

The blacksmith growled, and his fingers settled briefly on the head of the hammer he wore at his belt. Zetsurin's eyes, which had remained droopy throughout the entire conversation, widened with a glint of malice as she glanced down at his belt.

"Do it," she said, in a hushed tone. "You will die in the attempt."

Rathus cleared his throat, causing both parties to whip around to face him. "Good morning, folks. I couldn't help overhearin' the situation, so I went ahead and grabbed you a coupla tickets."

He reached out with his left hand, holding out a pair of small, stubby tickets. His right hand was casually hooked into his belt, completely relaxed and inoffensive, inches from his gun.

"I know it ain't a situation that anybody's happy about, but it's only fair that everybody gets some Mana, right? Based on what that fine gentleman over there is sayin', it sounds like the supply's runnin' into issues. Like my mother always said, eating your pudding faster don't mean there'll be more of it. This here's the sorta situation where we got to tighten our belts a few rungs, I reckon."

The pair of business owners hesitated, staring down at the tickets. They said nothing, but the crowd around them muttered.

"Gun Knight..."

"From the Capital..."

"Cool hat..."

Zetsurin eyed the ticket in his hand, before looking up at him. He flashed her a congenial smile, nodding his head slightly. The matron uncrossed her arms and gave a sigh of resignation. She reached out to take one of the tickets, but Bartholomew's hand darted out, snatching one of the tickets before she was able to grab hers. She rolled her eyes at his pointless display of brinksmanship.

"Thanks for understandin'," the Gun Knight said, "I'm sure we'll get this right sorted out soon as possible."

The blacksmith muttered something under his breath, and angrily turned to stomp off, heading for a small line that had formed on one end of the fence. At the front, one of the Astral Well's workers was portioning out Mana, with another Imperial Soldier watching over him.

"It's not often I see one of the Emperor's Own so far from the Capital. To think I'd see two in one day," Zetsurin purred. She offered her hand, draping it towards him with her fingers curled down.

He took her hand, shaking it with professional care. "Rathus McGaff. Imperial Gun Knight, at your service."

"Zetsurin," she introduced herself. "Zetsurin Seiryoku."

The Gun Knight cocked an eyebrow. "The Siren of Death?" he asked. Zetsurin's eyes lit up with amusement, her eyes deviating from her perpetually-sleepy expression as a smirk flitted across her face.

"You've heard of me," she asked, phrasing it more as a statement than anything else.

Rathus nodded, tipping his head to her a bit. "Of course. You happen to be pretty famous, you know. Not many Adventurers ever break 2000 ELO. You were also the first Merrow to hit 2250."

The woman's eyes grew wistful for a moment, her gaze drifting off as it focused on memories of the past. "That's right," she said, then her expression became sullen. "Well, you wouldn't think it to hear most of the people in this sleepy town talk. That was a long time ago. I've since retired, you know."

She gestured off in the distance, her long sleeve lifting and sliding down her arm. As the sleeve drew back, the fin on the outside of her forearm caught the light, glowing a faint blue with the subsurface scattering of the sunlight.

"I run a bordello over near the train station. It's called the 'Ocean's Motion'. You should stop by some time."

The Gun Knight tipped his hat. "I appreciate the offer, but unfortunately, I've got some pressing business to attend to."

Zetsurin gave him a coy smile as she snubbed out her cigarillo. "I think you'll find that all our business is pressing business, Ser Knight."

"I reckon so," Rathus said. "Appreciate the invitation all the same."

Zetsurin turned and walked away, walking for the end of the line with measured grace. Rathus turned to address Mr. Tweed Suit. The official's face was painted with visible relief, although whoever had done the painting had dipped their brush a little heavily into the water, given the copious moisture standing out on his brow.

"Thank goodness you showed up! They were starting to get u-unruly!" he exclaimed.

Rathus noticed that the crowd had settled somewhat at his appearance, many of the louder members growing suddenly meek. A few, he noted, were shooting glares at him instead, fading into the crowd. He hoped that wouldn't be a problem later.

"Thank you for settling the problem, Ser..."

"Rathus McGaff," the Gun Knight said, extending his hand. While the official vigorously shook his hand, Ruth walked up, having stayed a few steps out of the way while Rathus defused the previous confrontation.

"The name is Oliver!" Mr. Tweed said, "Oliver Crumpet. I'm in charge of the Astral Well here in Pheasantgrove. As you can see."

He held up a hand, gesturing to the crystal at the top of the tower. "We're having a few little problems."

"A shortage of Mana, it sounds like?" Ruth asked.

"Oh, who is this?" Oliver started, adjusting his glasses as he looked over to her.

"I'm his-"

"My cousin." Rathus said, "Her name's Rose."

"Well!" Mr. Crumpet said, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Rose."

Ruth gave a perfunctory curtsy. "Y-yes. Likewise... m-m'lord?" She surreptitiously shot Rathus a panicked look from the corner of her eye. Oliver turned around to grab another stack of tickets, and Rathus gave her a discrete thumbs up.

"So, what happened, exactly?" Rathus asked. "Something wrong with the receiver?"

"Oh, the receiver is fine," the official replied off-handedly, "but after the explosion, the nearest Astral Well is offline, and they're trying to figure out some way to change the relay to get Mana out here."

Rathus cocked his head to the side, stepping a bit closer. "You mean the train station in Denning? That's nowhere near their Astral Well."

Crumpet paused and turned to look at the Gun Knight. "You mean... you hadn't heard? I thought you were sent here to relieve us."

Rathus shook his head. "No, we were just stopping by. Had a few artifacts we needed to fill. What explosion are you talking about?"

Oliver looked at the crowd, still milling about the fence, and opened the door which lead into the Astral Well's squat building. "You might want to come in here," he said, his voice low. He gestured for the Gun Knight to follow, entering the darkened building.

Rathus exchanged a glance with the princess, and then followed, ducking low through the doorframe.

******

Several streets over, a mysterious man spoke into a Shell Phone, ducking behind a dumpster in an alley.

"I have a new development for you," he whispered. "A Gun Knight in town."

The man eyed some graffitti scrawled on the wall opposite him, which declared boldly that 'you're mother is a hoar'. He flipped it off as the person on the other end of the line spoke.

"Yeah," he replied, "I think so. The description matches. Change of plans?"

He listened and stared as a rat ran by, carrying an entire loaf of bread.

"I understand. The preparations are almost ready. Is everything good on the Dunning side?"

The voice spoke, and the man drew a pen from his back pocket, moving forward to deface the previous graffiti. As the voice on the other side of the phone call spoke, he finished and stepped back, having crossed out the "you're" to write "my". He beamed with pride at his tactical genius, when the voice on the other phone finished what they were saying.

"Perfect. It looks like everything is falling into place. Goodbye... your majesty."

He pulled the Shell Phone away from his ear, chuckling sinisterly to himself, when a voice broke in again. He lifted the shell back to his ear.

"Sorry, what was that?"

He paused, frowning.

"No, I know you're not a-" He replied, haltingly. "No, I just thought- I know that you aren't a king, I just wanted to sign off all- Okay. No, it was just..."

He sighed, falling into silence as a voice spoke animatedly on the other end. "Right," he replied. "I understand. Sorry, I won't do it again. I just wanted to sign off the call in a... never mind."

With a few more stern words, the call ended, and the erstwhile rebel leaned against the wall, sulking slightly. The Rebellion was coming to Pheasantgrove. And it had no appreciation for theatrics.