-Callia-

  After my fight with Ralf, my biggest weakness was revealed to me. I could avoid precision attacks, but blunt attacks came in so many forms, some of which couldn’t be avoided. Thus, I had Callen make runic armor specifically to protect me from the kind of wild tackle that Lacron attempted, shielding me both from the impact and later from being dragged through the ground. It held most of the way, but at some point it was overwhelmed, so I had Callen inspect my armor; he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

  “The runes are completely burnt out, which means the armor is ruined. You’ll have to switch to the spare because this set is ruined.” With Callen’s pronouncement, I sent the armor away to our space, getting the only other set I had. I hadn’t mentioned it to my brother, but I planned to build a rack memorializing every suit of armor I used. Since we had infinite storage space, it wouldn’t be a problem, and when I was a cranky old lady bragging to her grandkids, it might be fun to show off. I finished the change and grumbled as I struggled to adjust the straps in accordance with my growth.

  Leaving just enough guards to maintain security in the arena, the rest were rallied into a temporary escort. It felt a bit overkill to drag nearly 30 guards with us back to the mansion, but they were only following us for the trip back. The only other option would be to explain the divine trace trait, which we suspected to be the cause. No, moderately inconveniencing a couple guards wasn’t worth letting out secrets like that, and people who were afflicted by savage hunger seemed more like the exception instead of the rule.

  Just as I suspected, our group was joined by Jasmine, who had snuck out after us, and as a group we set out back towards the manor. As we moved, I noticed the familiar feeling of someone in the distance watching us. The shadow, whom I caught a glimpse of before entering the arena, now stood nearly twice as far as before, watching our group and me in particular. It seems my earlier spotting spooked him. Instead of saying anything out loud to give away the game, I shared with Callen, who was next to Reginald. Callen took the opportunity to quietly alert Reginald about our shadowy friend. With Reginald’s signal, one of Jasmine’s maids secretly detached from our party, indirectly making her way after our distant observer.

  As we reached the first set of gates leading into the farm zone, the feeling of our follower disappeared, and the maid caught up with us as we filed through the gate. I felt a bit of smug satisfaction clearing away the mystery man, and our group passed through the second area unmolested. However, as we made it through the final gate, the moment Callen and I crossed the threshold, I made the sound of a surprised cry of distress in the gatehouse. The next moment the gate broke free and violently came crashing down. Nobody except me had time to react. The ambush was clearly set for everyone on our side of the gate, so with no time to spare, I grabbed Jasmine and threw her through the gate. She was the only noncombatant in the group, and with nearly half of the guards separated on the other side, they could focus on protecting her.

  The far side of the tunnel out of the gatehouse was blocked as various vicious-looking men wielding various bands of criminal gear assembled. It felt like a bit of a spectacle because it wasn’t just one uniform group. There were impoverished psychos licking their weapons and giggling, but there was also a group of men dressed in luxurious clothes like an elite security team for a casino. As well as everything in between. Was this an ambush for Reginald? What did he do to unite so many different gangs? A big bald man stepped up from the casino enforcer group.

  “Hello, Milord! I’ll keep things simple so you don’t go overthinking our intent, ya know. The Dark Lady wants the twins in the back, more specifically the boy. Give’em to us an’ nobody gets hurt. Ba, if ya insist on making me release the psychos the lady sent with us, then I won’ be able to call them back until they’ve had their fun.” My eyes snapped to Callen as a single thought went through both our minds, Lexia. However, in the next moment we both shook off that thought. It didn’t make sense for Lexia, who was going crazy the last time we encountered her, to suddenly be the boss of some advanced criminal organization. Instead, it was more likely that whoever this “Dark Lady” was had sent the spy we disposed of earlier. Still, the emphasis on Callen was odd.

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  Reginald stood defiantly against the man and was about to speak before being cut off by another warning.

  “Boy, maybe you don’t quite understand. My men have seized this gate quietly without any alerts being sent. I’m more than capable of employing the extensive defensive equipment, and my men outnumber your group by more than 3 to one. Don’t make this more than it needs to be. Killing the lord’s heir is terrible for business, but what must be done will be done.” The man radiated killing intent even if his personal strength was comparatively lacking. I noticed Callen began to expand his mana zone and quietly summoned my bow. Reginald’s stance didn’t change, and I saw the mob boss’s muscles clench as he recognized Reginald’s response even without a clear declaration.

  Without hesitation I identified the most pressing danger to our group: the dozens of archers aiming through murder slits in the gateway arch. I left whatever runic shenanigans were in play to Callen, and in sync we took action. In rapid fire I loosed dozens of arrows at the hidden archers. The entire arch glowed as hidden runes above our group activated only to stop as large English glyphs formed over various points. Just as we opened fire, the mob boss cried out, “Kill them!” Like a pack of wild dogs, the criminals rushed down the tunnel towards our group, yipping and howling war cries. Soldiers rushed forward, clashing with the criminals with equal force, breaking into a great brawl.

  A quick check on Callen showed him closing his eyes with his complete focus on whatever runework he was doing to the tunnel. I dodged to the side, bobbing and weaving as various archers in the alcoves above replaced the fallen. One tried shooting Callen, but I easily intervened, kicking the arrow aside as I began returning fire. It was quickly apparent that while there were some archers to replace the fallen, they were either running out or running out of men willing to try. The small slit would normally provide enough cover to make someone untouchable to attackers, but against me it was useless.

  As I cleared the archers above, I switched my focus onto the fighting on the ground. Reginald had taken command, organizing his men into a line to use the limited space of the tunnel as a bottleneck. However, losses were beginning to mount as various killers began to overpower and break holes in the line. I snapped off a shot as one of the criminals tried jumping over the guards. He swung his knives with confidence to bat it aside but failed, instead falling limply to the ground with a fresh hole in his throat. I started picking shots through the crowd, disabling or killing as I could, limited by the line of allies standing and moving in the way.

  Elven March

  None of the elvish people quite knew why they needed to retrieve something, but for some reason they believed it to be even more vital than survival. For the last several months they spread out through the woodlands, both searching and butchering every animal in their path. Once they identified the border of human territory, they set up war camps in the trees outside the notice of the humans. The whole process had taken weeks as countless monsters were disturbed by the migration of elves, but in the end they served as food and materials to arm and feed them. A threat they couldn’t remember made them steer clear of the ocean town. Something there spoke of danger they didn’t want to confront until absolutely necessary.

  Yeomarr felt as though something incredibly important was missing as she travelled through the woods, and the desperation to recover a ring filled her just as it did all her kin. The memory of the ring itself seemed to match that of the relic she had prepared for her daughter. The very same daughter who should’ve been somewhere in this forest. Still, the urgency to recover the ring overrode her motherly concern every time it came into conflict. Seeing the new mothers abandoning their children to join the hunt added to the growing disconnect between the necessity of their task and the decisions being made. She vacantly searched the forest and herself as a memory of horror briefly flickered to the surface. Her body moving against her will to shoot her best friend. Just as the memory came, it faded like a nightmare, leaving her shaken, but not her body, as she continued the search. Finally she stopped as the sight of a human settlement came into view. She got to work constructing ladders for the attack.

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