Instead of creeping towards the door, Hirrus headed in the opposite direction. Towards the front of the building where there was a row of windows overlooking the courtyard. Those were his objective. He just had to stay low enough that the decorative railing around the balcony would hide him from the sight of the adventurers on the stairs below.

Hirrus found it wasn’t hard to stay beneath their notice. They were lounging around chatting rather than standing at proper guard. Typical.

Fighting the group of adventurers would be impossible. The attack at the tavern showed that four adventurers were a challenge worth being concerned about, and that was if they didn’t raise any sort of alarm to get additional help.

All he had to do was create enough of a distraction that opening the big doors at the top of the stairs wouldn’t catch their attention. He could do that from up here without making himself the distraction.

Carefully, Hirrus opened the nearest window, trying to be as quiet as possible. The window overlooked the courtyard, and he could clearly see all the adventurers he’d seen earlier milling about.

The pair sitting on the fountain were still there, and the patrols were still moving. But they weren’t Hirrus' concern. They were still looking out and around at the grounds, not up at the mansion.

What concerned him was the man guarding the main entrance right below him.

The man was still standing there. He was picking at his nails with a dagger that was impractically large for the task. Behind the bushes beside him was the discarded core of the apple he’d been eating earlier.

If Hirrus was going to distract the adventurers inside, that was going to be the source.

Hirrus reviewed his options.

The most obvious was to throw something at him. He had a bunch of loose weapons and armor in his inventory now. Perhaps a knife thrown into the bushes nearby could cause him to raise an alarm.

However, such a thing might draw attention to himself. If the man down there was more on task than he looked, he might see that something rustling in the bushes had been dropped from above. If the adventurer looked right up at Hirrus, then he wouldn’t buy himself any time at all. In fact, he might get in as much trouble as he would if he just leaped from the balcony and announced himself dramatically.

The Arcana he had available became the most viable option.

Reviewing them, though, none of them fit the bill either. Many of his abilities were loud and flashy, like Peppered Breath and RiesenFeuer, and even when they weren’t, like TK Bullets and SnowBarrage, the impact would reveal the direction the assault had come from. Every Arcana he had seen either only targeted himself, or involved flinging a projectile that would betray his position.

His only remaining option was to drop down, take the man out in a flash - as he had done to the adventurer in the storage room - and then use High Jump to leap back up into the window.

It was a risky plan. If the man got out a scream, or if he botched the leap getting back up into the window, then his chances of success would plummet. He would-

Hirrus paused, furrowing his brow. He did have an Arcana that would create an effect without indicating a source direction.

Just one. It was the only one he’d seen that didn’t involve a projectile.

Phrase of Luminosity.

Leaning out the window, Hirrus reached towards the man and made a gesture.

A golden glow erupted not from his hands, but from the ground under the man, coating him in radiant energies.

Hirrus ducked back in the window as soon as the Arcana took effect. He managed to get behind cover before the yelp of surprise rang out across the courtyard.

“What the fuck?” the man shouted, his voice cracking from fear. “What the fuck was that? Who- who did that? Who the fuck is Hirrus Callabryn?”

Hirrus heard voices shouting back, but ignored them. He scuttled away from the window and towards the stairs. Staying low kept him out of view, but there were already rustlings coming from below of the adventurers there standing up in response to the fuss coming from the front of the building.

Followed by a booming sound as the front door burst open.

“What the fuck happened out there?” someone asked.

“Get your lazy asses out here,” came the response. “Someone’s outside and we need to find them. They did something to Cody and he’s freaking out.”

“It’s still fucking ticking!” the adventurer yelled from outside, panic clear in his voice. “Where the fuck did it come from?”

The sounds of thumping feet echoed through the entry hall as the adventurers ran out the front door.

As soon as it grew quieter, Hirrus poked his head over the railing.

The adventurers were all gone, not even leaving a token guard behind. There were more shouts coming from outside, but they were beyond Hirrus' concern.

The way was open.

Clive was waiting, no doubt with Alric close at hand.

The large double doors were a heavy hardwood, but when Hirrus planted his hands on them, he found they were well-weighted and balanced. A slight shove sent them flying open, permitting him entrance to the room beyond.

Hirrus had expected a number of things.

A ballroom filled to the brim with adventurers was near the top of his list.

An indulgent audience chamber - likely with Alric chained to an ostentatious throne - seemed such a given that Hirrus would have put money on it.

What he found, though, was beyond the last thing he expected.

It was literally unthinkable.

Beyond the big dramatic double doors was a simple sparring room. The side walls were lined with mirrors, while the back wall only had reinforced windows set high into the wall, well out of reach of any stray blows or throws. Both the near wall and the far wall, as well as the floor, were covered in dark blue padding.

Despite the setting, the man standing in the middle of the room was dressed as if for a social function, with a dark green overshirt over an olive waistcoat vest with no undershirt, baring an unusual amount of molded pectoral muscles. His red hair was wildly tousled to a point that it didn’t even look intentional anymore, though his short beard looked so carefully manicured that Hirrus thought it was a safe guess that every hair on the man’s head had been arranged individually with tweezers. He was holding a quarterstaff that looked like it had been made of jade stone, the weapon cocked at an angle that set it against his shoulder in a rakish pose. Dark brown eyes were unfocused when the doors opened, but snapped to Hirrus as soon as they closed behind him.

“Clive,” Hirrus said by way of greeting.

Clive gave a brief nod, his lips parting in a smile that looked unnaturally white. “You. Whoever you are.”

“Where’s Alric?”

“Let me guess,” Clive said with a smirk, “if I give him up you’ll let me go? Give me a little slap on the wrist? Tell me I’ve been a bad, bad boy and I should think about what I’ve done?”

Hirrus drew his icy greataxe. “No. You tell me where he is now, and I’ll go get him out of here before your body is cold.”

“Oh, you’re approaching me?” Clive said, his smirk becoming a grin. “Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me?”

“I was already going to kill you for what Last of the Strong did to Yenon,” Hirrus said, taking a step forward. “Your actions today have done nothing but hasten that fate.”

“Oh ho!” Clive chuckled, stepping forward as well, though his first step was awkward and stilted, leaving too much weight on his back foot. “Then come as close as you like!”

Hirrus wasn’t sure what game Clive was playing at.

But if, like everyone else, he was eager to join the fight, then Hirrus wouldn’t disappoint.

Clive whipped his staff forward, whirling it twice before bringing it around in a vicious sweep into Hirrus' ribs. Rather than parry the blow, Hirrus accepted it, letting it hit his armor and deal damage.

The blow was a critical hit, but was surprisingly weak considering that bonus. He only took one thousand four hundred and thirty-four damage.

Hirrus’ icy blue greataxe crashed down in turn, dealing out a blow in trade for the one he took. Despite the lack of physical armor plates, Clive still had the TEN stat to endure the hit without being split in half, even as the blade bit several inches into his shoulder. That blow dwarfed what Clive had done by a dramatic gap, dealing six thousand seven hundred and twenty-two damage.

Clive scrambled back away from the strike, weaving a defensive web of green stone with his jade staff. Forcing Hirrus to stay away.

“I should have known.” Clive laughed, but it was a thin, almost bored laugh. “You are good. Orlina let me send Oskar after you, and not only have we not heard back, but you’re here in his armor, with his axe. And Juri was no slouch, no matter how much Fidelis and his baby crew disrespected her.”

Hirrus stepped forward, despite the whirling staff. “What is this? Are you the one running away now?”

“No, no, of course not,” Clive said, straightening up. He abandoned his defensive move and adjusted the collar of his overshirt. “I’m just going to have to take you a little more seriously.” His eyes visibly glittered, blue-green sparks shimmering in the air. “Just a little.”