The magic wand, unassuming as a stick by its looks, glided into the maid Anne's grasp from her sleeve, swiftly followed by the activation of several enhancement spells. A faint glow enveloped the pair, lightening Eschell's limbs, allowing her a breath of relief amidst her anxiety.
Although Eschell had always reckoned Anne was no ordinary maid, given her solo rescue mission, she still couldn't help but be a tad surprised when she felt the effects of a mid-level physical enhancement spell—one usually reserved for level 45 casters. It was a bitter pill to swallow that Anne was not only such a capable mage at the young age of twenty-four, but also a versatile close-combat battlemage.
Gripping her staff, Eschell braced herself for combat. Yet, being a devout follower and a student of both magic and faith, she had almost no genuine combat prowess.
Nonetheless, as a support, Eschell was nothing short of competent.
Eyes closed, she attuned to the ebb and flow of magical energies in the air around her. Her crisp, melodious voice chanted an incantation, and soon, a cold, pale blue radiance cloaked her form.
[Spectator's Heart (Diluted Version): An elementary mental spell for self-use only. Effect: Forces the target into a state of enforced calm. Drawback: Duration uncertain.]
When Eschell's eyes snapped open again, all traces of panic had vanished from her face.
As if her soul had stepped outside her body, she bizarrely felt like she was watching the whole debacle from above.
A farce, indeed. What was a life-or-death moment for her and Anne was to passersby merely an indifferent commotion. And the bystanders? The strong would spectate, relishing the thrill of the spectacle, while the weak would merely glance twice before departing, disinterested. That's the nature of onlookers: detached and aloof.
At that moment, Eschell found herself in such a detached state—utterly calm.
Clarity brought revelations. She noted the six figures closing in and the rustles in the forest beyond—even the slight limp of the left foot in the man ahead to her right. The conclusion was clear and inescapable: there was no getting away.
If it were just Anne, there might be a slim chance of escape, but with Eschell in tow...
But her resolve was unwavering. What if they couldn't win? What if there was no escape? Even if today marked the end, at least she would uphold her family's honor.
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"Anne, target the one to our right first," Eschell murmured.
"Understood," the maid replied succinctly, her focus still on the leader but already discerning the movement patterns of the man to the right.
Without a sound, the battle commenced.
---
"Master, how much further do we have to go?" Pepe asked lethargically.
They had flown through the night, and now they were hovering over the capital city.
Murphy hadn’t approached this rescuing mission with full gusto; after all, when it came down to it, he was a just mercenary. Success would bring credit, failure... well, sometimes it was just someone's fate, and it might even turn out to be for the best.
On the pretense of future convenience, Murphy didn't employ his highest speed while flying. Instead, he focused on scanning the terrain below, familiarizing himself for any teleporting needs in the future.
Flying slowly was not without its price, but who would actually pay that price was another matter.
Pepe, a creature of routine, was not used to staying up all night. Even with her unique thought processes, she lacked the courage to sleep high in the air. During the first part of the night, she insisted she wasn't sleepy while observing the landscapes below. But as the night wore on, her defenses waned, and she would nod off mid-sentence, dropping into brief moments of shutdown.
Ultimately, it took several assurances from Murphy—promising no sudden ascents or descents—for Pepe to drift off to sleep as dawn approached.
While Murphy's defensive spells and verbal reassurances provided some comfort, the subconscious fear of sleeping mid-air lingered and left Pepe feeling drained upon waking.
"Master, let's not fly anymore. I'd like to feel the ground beneath my feet," she said, the longing to be earthbound reflected in her voice.
"Alright, we're landing soon," Murphy kept his word, and they soon descended into a dense forest.
After surveying the surroundings, Murphy detected nothing amiss.
"Give me your hand."
Pepe obediently extended her hand to receive a small metallic orb from Murphy.
"Channel your life force into this orb, and it will guide you," Murphy said, mimicking the tone of a quest-giving NPC. "My dear apprentice, off you go to rescue the Duke's granddaughter!"
Pepe weighed the orb, feeling the intricacies of its magical circuitry before looking up and asking, "And where will you be off to next, Master?"
"Less questioning, more rescuing," Murphy replied sternly, adopting an expression akin to a sly employer. "Now go do your master's bidding."
"You just want to slack off, don't you?" Pepe mumbled under her breath. If not for her inability to best him, she would've challenged her unreliable master then and there.
"What's that? This is training, remember? Training," Murphy retorted, feeling a pinch of guilt. He then took off into the air, calling back, "I'm going to scope out your future school," before vanishing from sight.
Guided by the orb, Pepe started making her way through the forest when suddenly, a rustling noise caught her attention. Turning her head, she saw a man clad in black, dagger between his teeth, emerging from the dense foliage on a beeline that matched her direction.
Their eyes met, resulting in an awkward stillness before the finely wrought iron dagger sliced through the air towards Pepe.
The attack was accompanied by a low growl, "Sorry, kid! It's just business!"