Syl, with an urgency mirrored in her swift movements, dragged the King out of the hallway and into a dressing room. The room, a spectacle of opulence, was adorned with wooden mannequins, each displaying an array of extravagant attires. From the intricate shawls resting on their heads to the dresses featuring a blend of long sleeves and short skirts. Amidst this, sports outfits and bedtime garments added to the mix.

Upon entering, Syl, with a decisive thrust, propelled the King into the room and swiftly secured the doors behind them. Her eyes then turned to Immanuel, a look of concern etched on her face as Zach surveyed the windows, his gaze sharp.

“You are burning up, Imm,” Syl stated, her voice laced with worry.

Immanuel, taken aback, could only muster a surprised, “What?”

“Imm,” Syl said softly, her hands cradling his face with a tenderness that belied the situation's gravity. “You are burning at full power. I can feel its heat, as intense as the morning sun,” she remarked, her lips curving into a smile.

“How do you know everyone's stage?” he blurted out.

Her eyes, scanning the room, returned to his. “You won’t even reach half the distance to the ship burning like that. Breathe. No, turn it down. Completely,” she instructed, her tone firm.

‘Turn it down while that crazy spear-bitch is around?’ Immanuel thought, feeling a twinge of fear as he recalled the near-fatal encounter, the sensation of cold steel grazing his neck and piercing his chest.

“Yes. We have to loot!” Syl said unexpectedly, her eyebrows arching as if she had unveiled a clever trick.

‘She’s distracting me,’ Immanuel realized.

"You were planning to kill these people from the beginning. How do we know…? Maybe they had some procedure."

Syl glanced at him, her expression suggesting that this was neither the time nor the place for such discussions. Yet, she answered. "You saw the city. It's nothing more than a stone graveyard. Their ships? Simple fishing boats. We arrive with a core drive..." She paused, her eyes darting towards the door as if catching a distant sound. "The welcome squad, everything, I, I should have acted sooner."

Immanuel, in the meantime, began to calm down, his core gradually shutting down as he listened to Syl's explanation.

"You had to cut through them?" he asked.

"The nobles?" Syl's brow furrowed at the question, her gaze meeting his with a piercing intensity. "I will cut through the whole city if someone has a spear at your neck," she declared, her voice resonating with conviction. There was no guilt, no hesitation in her words, and for some bizarre reason, this made Immanuel smile. 'This crazy woman. In any other context, this would definitely be a red flag,' he thought, shaking his head to suppress a burgeoning fit of laughter. The absurdity of the situation was almost overwhelming.

"Alright. I have it together... For a moment," Immanuel conceded, his demeanor steadying.

From the window, Zach interjected with a tactical suggestion. "I think we should kill the clown and fly. Stay low over the rooftops. Can you carry us both?"

"I think so. For short distances," Immanuel replied, his attention shifting to the mannequins. He began lifting them, methodically storing them. Meanwhile, Syl moved towards the other side of the room. With a swift motion, she removed a colorful wooden screen, revealing thick rolls of colorful cloth behind it.

The therapeutic nature of this 'loot therapy' seemed to lighten the grimness of their situation, even if just momentarily.

"You feel better?" Syl inquired, her voice carrying a hint of concern as she walked back towards the closed doors to listen for any signs of pursuit.

"Yes, I feel better," Immanuel responded, his actions resembling those of a contestant in a frenzied shopping spree, grabbing what he could within a minute.

"So, we fly?" Zach repeated.

"Yes," Syl answered succinctly, her gaze briefly falling on the King, who lay motionless, trying to render himself invisible.

"Let's go," Immanuel declared, having secured the last roll. His focus was now entirely on their escape.

As Zach forcefully broke the window, having found no other means to open it, Syl nonchalantly passed the King. In a fluid, almost dismissive motion, she pierced the back of his skull with a blade formed from her middle finger, not sparing him a glance.

Immanuel, witnessing the King's final convulsion, turned his gaze from Syl to Zach, suppressing any thoughts that might impede their urgent escape.

Joining Zach, they quickly devised their next move. "Small courtyard, let's go through those red doors. I smell meat, and we need some supplies," Zach said, jumping down first, followed closely by Immanuel and Syl.

They sprinted across the courtyard, with Zach cautiously leading the way into a large stone room adorned with pots and pans. The room, completely deserted, provided them a momentary respite as they quickly turned left, encountering a stone staircase descending into darkness.

"There," Zach pointed.

"I don’t think we should go in if there's only one way out," Immanuel cautioned.

"You go in. Take the food," Zach instructed firmly.

"But if—" Immanuel began to protest.

"We are out of supplies. Fast," Zach interjected, his tone leaving no room for further discussion.

As Immanuel entered the room, he was immediately struck by the pungent smell of meat, a scent so overpowering that it took him a moment to adjust. The room was filled with hanging pieces of meat, which he began to hastily store, pulling them down from the ceiling. He then noticed round wooden barrels, akin to wine casks, and started to store them as well. However, halfway through the room, he encountered an unexpected limitation – his storage capacity was full.

With a cage still in his hands and unable to store it, Immanuel realized he had reached his storage limit. There was a sense of relief in this discovery, mixed with a tinge of disappointment. He assessed his inventory and decided to discard the rotting fish, their odor causing him to gag. As he cleared space by removing the decaying items, he resumed storing the remaining supplies and dashed out.

Upon exiting, he was met with Zach's questioning, almost angry gaze.

“I reached max storage and dumped the decaying dolphins,” Immanuel explained.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Both Zach and Syl looked surprised at the revelation, but there was no time to dwell on it. Zach promptly opened the doors to a stone courtyard filled with carts.

“Can you lift off here?” Zach inquired.

Peering over Zach's shoulder, Immanuel assessed the situation. “It will take some extra energy, but yes,” he confirmed.

Immanuel walked out and activated his transformation. His body morphed, hands and feet reshaping into talons, and his mouth forming into a beak. He felt a surge of strength and wholeness as he transformed, his wings expanding with the energy emanating from his body. His wingspan was immense, nearly spanning the width of the courtyard. He felt larger, more powerful. He shook his mane and nodded to Syl, who was listening at the door they had just closed.

Mounting his back, Syl and Zach braced themselves as Immanuel prepared for takeoff. With a powerful run and a series of vigorous flaps of his enormous wings, he lifted off, the extra weight proving to be a significant challenge. His body, designed for agile, lightweight maneuvers, now had to burn core energy at its maximum to sustain the added burden.

Soaring above the stone walls, he banked to the left, the vastness of the ocean coming into view in the distance. The houses, never more than two stories high, offered little obstruction, revealing the expansive seascape that lay ahead.

Immanuel struggled to maintain speed, conscious of the need to stay low and avoid using gravity for acceleration. He could feel Syl's legs pressing against his sides for stability, while Zach sat securely in front of her.

Skimming over the next house, he ran across the rooftop to gain momentum, then pushed off the edge, soaring towards the sea. The relief of escaping the trap they had found themselves in was palpable. 'We are so close to making it,' he thought, reflecting on how quickly their situation had deteriorated.

Another house approached, and then a crossroads. Immanuel ran again, his wings fully extended, leaping into the air for another burst of speed.

"Fly around the crossroads," Syl instructed from above.

He obeyed, banking right and flying over alleys before circling the crossroads and turning onto a broad street. After another push from a house, he ascended slightly, aiming towards their speedboat. Then, without warning, a blinding pain exploded in his side.

The impact of the projectile sent them veering off course, crashing through a wall and into an alley. Debris rained down as he hit the ground hard, Syl and Zach already jumped off before he hit the ground.

As Immanuel lay on his side, he noticed a dirty young woman with beautiful brown eyes. Her hands were stumps, her arms protectively covering a boy lying beside her, his eyesockets empty. A stone had struck the woman's head, blood trickling down her face.

This moment of vulnerability struck Immanuel deeply. The woman's protective posture over the boy, their apparent desperation and helplessness, made him acutely aware of his own self-centered concerns since arriving in this place.

Transforming back into his human form, he lay there naked and bloodied, observing the wounded duo. A large, black arrow with golden feathers protruded from his side, the flesh around it rotting. He shifted slightly, dislodging the arrow and collapsing closer to the terrified couple. The woman reacted instinctively, throwing herself over the boy to shield him.

With the arrow removed, the spreading decay seemed to stabilize, but as Immanuel attempted to stand, his strength failed him, and he fell to the ground once more. The sound of a loud crash echoed in the distance, possibly a building collapsing.

Immanuel lay there, wounded and vulnerable, amidst the rubble.

Gritting his teeth and spitting out a black and brown slime, Immanuel pushed himself to his limits. Despite the pain and exhaustion, he sprinted towards the sounds of conflict, using the wall for support. Peering around the corner, he saw Cobra Syl and Lycan Zach desperately fighting the spearwoman amidst the rubble of a destroyed house. They were struggling, clearly at a disadvantage.

Then, Immanuel spotted the archer who had shot him, repositioning himself on a rooftop for a clearer shot at the ongoing battle. Immanuel, naked and bloodied, burned his core and flashed, barely reaching the rooftop. Pulling himself up, he fixed his gaze on the archer.

With another flash, Immanuel appeared behind the archer and wrapped his arm around the man's neck. The archer panicked, thrashing wildly, but he was no match for Immanuel's superior strength. Despite the searing pain from his wound, Immanuel tightened his grip, fueled by the burning energy of his core. After a few convulsive moments, the archer's struggles ceased.

Immanuel then plucked an arrow from the man's quiver and pierced it into his eye, ensuring no further threat from him. Seizing the bow, he turned his attention back to the battle below.

The spearwoman's fighting style had changed drastically; she was now fueled by rage, her attacks overly aggressive and lacking precision. Immanuel noticed several squads approaching from the direction of the palace, increasing the urgency of the situation.

Zach and Syl, having noticed Immanuel, worked in tandem to contain the spearwoman. Their strategy was a dance of claws and blades, a relentless assault that left her little room to maneuver. Each time she focused on Zach, Syl would strike from the side, and when she turned to counter Syl, Zach would lash out with his claws, feet, or tail.

As the spearwoman simultaneously deflected Syl's blade with her hand and Zach's attack with her spear, Immanuel took his shot. The arrow narrowly missed, flying just over her head.

Cursing under his breath, Immanuel grabbed the last three arrows from the quiver and leaped from the building. As he fell, he flashed, reappearing close to the fight but outside the red aura surrounding the spearwoman.

Determined not to miss his next shot, Immanuel focused intently on the spearwoman, who was skillfully navigating the relentless attacks from Zach and Syl. He feigned releasing an arrow, causing the spearwoman's aura to flash defensively as he anticipated. Each fake release helped Immanuel gauge her reaction speed within the red aura.

As he moved closer, maintaining his aim, Immanuel noticed how the aura's effect allowed the spearwoman to accelerate dramatically, giving her a significant advantage. This insight was crucial; it explained the rhythm of the battle and why Zach and Syl had to disengage each time the aura flared up.

Preparing to fire again, Immanuel watched as the spearwoman leaped into the air, her spear raised high, targeting him. He released the arrow just as her hand moved forward, and simultaneously, Syl's blades struck, piercing the spearwoman's sides as her spear flew towards Immanuel.

Focus.

Immanuel dropped to the side, narrowly avoiding the spear that grazed his scalp. His arrow, however, found its mark, entering the spearwoman's mouth. Time snapped back to normal.

Syl rushed to Immanuel's aid, attempting to lift him onto her shoulder, but he resisted, insisting they follow him instead. Staggering, he led the way back towards the alley where he had seen the young woman and blind boy.

Upon reaching the alley, Immanuel quickly formulated a plan. "I'll take the boy, you grab the girl, Zach, cover our flank," he instructed. As the first of the squad reached the alley, Immanuel turned and released his last arrow, striking the squad leader in the chest. Discarding the bow, he picked up the blind boy.

For a moment, Syl hesitated, her arms lifting slightly as if considering killing them. The terror in the young woman's eyes was palpable, her instinct to protect the boy evident even as Immanuel gently lifted him.

Syl changed back into a woman, hoisted the girl onto her back and darted forward. Immanuel, in his battered state, followed suit. Every step was a struggle, his wound pulsing menacingly with each movement. The glistening sea at the distance beckoned them as their only escape.

Behind them, one of the squads had split up, hot on their trail. Immanuel caught a glimpse of Zach taking an alternate route, using his wings to scale a wall and disappear from sight.

They finally cleared the last rows of houses, emerging onto the stone pier. Syl carrying the woman, Immanuel, naked and bloodied, carrying the blind boy, his side ominously blackening.

Shouts and screams echoed from behind as two more squads emerged from different streets. "I can’t see our boat," Syl yelled. Their intended escape route, the speedboat, was missing.

As the first squad, led by a woman with a palm tree on her head, charged onto the pier, Syl acted quickly. She found a boat with several oars and, with a swift slash of her blade, cut it loose while throwing the girl in like a sack of potatoes. Immanuel leaped into the boat just as Syl pushed it away from the pier.

"Go!" Syl commanded, turning to confront the approaching squad. Immanuel grabbed the oars and began paddling with all his might. From another pier, Zach was seen fleeing, a group of fighters in pursuit. He dove into the water, transforming mid-leap, and vanished beneath the waves.

The girl in the boat, her hands mere stumps, clung protectively to the boy, whispering to him in hushed tones.

Immanuel rowed with dwindling strength, his core energy nearly depleted. He watched as Cobra Syl masterfully held off the attackers on the pier, her blades a blur.

As they gained distance from the pier, Syl struck a final blow against her pursuers before diving into the water, reverting to her human form just before making contact with the sea.