I absentmindedly twirl my umbrella while the others settle to heal, keeping an eye on the guards observing us. So, how did she make the blood float like a curtain? The construct built upon itself so it never actually floated, she made it stream up like a waterfall in reverse.

Not overall useful then. I sigh. She may as well have used water considering blood is no more potent if it isn't yours. I disagree, at the very least it's a more efficient version of what you've been using.

I'm not going to bleed myself out because you're a fan, sister. I make a thin smile. She had to have a way to preserve all that blood, and she might have diluted it or something. Again, water would be much easier to use.

If we don't use blood's capability to assert absolute control, then an air-shield is the best because it is mobile and the light weight isn't an issue if it is anchored to the ground.

Completely immobilizing an air-shield cripples its ability to absorb impacts but yes. So... Jay, could you go take a look around the ruins of her manor, find her hideout? I... We both pause as Idali enters our field of vision.

“Mind giving me a hand?” She quietly asks.

“I only have one, I can't spare it.” I respond with a corner smile.

Idali lightly punches my shoulder and sits down on a rainwater collecting barrel while making a painful grimace. I move to block the other's view of her and wait for her to unstrap her hard leather armor's pants.

“Did you see the damn ground explode?” Uhla whispers.

“I don't think anyone could have missed it if they tried.” Nahl replies with a feeble voice. “It's likely those out to work the fields and mines for the Countess heard it as well, they're probably on the way back because of it in fact.”

That's a good point. Idali takes off her hard leather pants, revealing clothes soaked in red blood. I wince at the sight. She gives me a pouch with a blank expression. I open it to find more bandages and poultices than I've ever seen put together.

“Edusa gave it to me for us to use.” Idali awkwardly speaks up.

“Right, us.” I drawl, causing the blonde's cheeks to redden.

I notice a bit late that the other two have kept their silence for quite a while and throw them a glance. Nahl and Uhla's traits are tense, stretched but droopy at the same time as if weighted down. She notices me.

“It was foolish to think I could help while staying out of it.” She mutters. “I don't blame you.”

“First battle?” I ask.

“Like this, yes.” Nahl murmurs. “I never realized how... safe and organized the Order is.”

“Templar battles get just as chaotic when they aren't fighting weaklings.” I tell him.

“We did good, though, right?” Nahl asks quietly.

“Good?” I scoff without a shred of empathy. “Death is a loss, not a gain. What we did was necessary but irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.”

“The Countess won't be killing anymore.” Uhla quietly argues with her pale face.

“So what? How many lives do you think she unjustly took comparatively to the entirety of Nobility?” I provoke. “Removing her will have a negligible impact on that number. What we did will help Edusa politically and possibly save lives but, again, a negligible number of them.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Uhla utters with desperation.

“Jessica.” Idali whispers with a warning in her voice.

“What we did.” I tell the ex-Semplar with a sigh. “Fight for what you believe but don't mistake the scope of your victories.”

Nahl places his hand on Uhla's shoulder. She gives me a brief nod and hangs her head down. I decide not to pile on the poor girl despite viscerally wishing I could make her, make them all, understand the scope of what is required to end behaviors like the Countess'. But, unfortunately, the task is impossible to achieve practically.

I turn back to Idali and glance down at her thigh, finding that she dropped her pants to reveal her mangled thigh. Her flesh got ripped into strips, some of which dangle because one end was cut. I can see her parasite's rubbery brown flesh underneath thin strips of muscles.

I dazedly stare because I have no clue how to fix this and feel guilt at having sent her in my place because I felt she could handle it with my help, that I didn't need to risk collapsing with another seizure just to handle a Countess.

“It was my choice.” Idali murmurs with a twitchy smile that reveals she's starting to really feel the pain.

“Tell your symbiont to inject you with its cool substance thingy again or you'll lose the ability to walk.” I tell her.

“How?” She asks.

“... never mind then.” I mutter.

It takes me a half-hour to wrap a half-dozen rolls of bandages around her shredded flesh while setting the pieces back into place. Idali starts trembling half-way through and screaming towards the end when I put the last chunks back in.

“Uhla, apply a healing construct to her thigh, try to mend the flesh back together.” I tell her.

“You sure?” Idali shakily asks.

“Not much of a choice, and this is a temporary measure.” I frankly tell Idali. “This looks pretty bad, she might even have to sow it back together.”

“Whatever it is, I'm not going to speak to anyone about it Idali.” Uhla reassures while rising with a soothing smile that looks out-of-place on her pale face.

“Jess!” Rowland calls out from afar.

“Take care of each other and send a fire construct in the sky if you're attacked.” I quickly tell them.

I head into the street to Rowland who's accompanied by Edusa's peoples as well as a few officers and bourgeois from the town. The old man, who I'm pretty sure is an accomplice to the Countess, is there as well.

“So, we agree? The best thing to do right now is to end hostilities?” One of Edusa's people, a brown-haired man, asks.

“If you acknowledge that house Hafjord retains its claim to the title no matter the result of the investigation, Lieutenant.” A Lady quickly intervenes.

“I told you the decision is in our Duchess Hetlan's hands.” The man says. “I promise she will be safe in our custody.”

“For the near future then.” The woman corrects, likely thinking that the house will retain control as long as they don't lose it now.

“People will want those responsible to answer for the disappearances as well as triggering a battle who took the lives of many, and almost causing a crowd to riot against our forces.” The Lieutenant coldly utters.

“The battle was their fault! She destroyed the Manor!” The old man hurriedly piles on. “The bourgeoisie will support the establishment of a temporary tribunal.”

“Good.” One of the town's guard officers nods sharply with a somber expression.

“We need to sift through the mess first but that will be the second step.” Edusa's Lieutenant agrees.

Politics. I groan with Liz. Rowland throws me an eager glance. I walk up to the group with my hand on my broadsword and a smirk on my face. The old man throws me a venomous glare.

“Dame Jessica Freepath, I believe you'll require her agreement on anything if you truly want to end the hostilities.” Rowland introduces.

“She's lucky we...” The old bourgeois starts but stops as I start unsheathing my longest broadsword.

“Acknowledge these before speaking again.” I tell him, finding his sudden prudent silence quite useful as it allows me to posture. “I don't answer to anyone, I am powerful enough to kill you on the spot, I can leave this town at any time I wish and there isn't a thing any of you can do about it.”

“This is outrageous.” The Lady mutters.

The Lieutenant holds his tongue but I can tell he's tense. The various guards and soldiers around stand straighter but none of them seem motivated to pick a fight with me.

“Now, you.” I glare at the old bourgeois. “I'm going to ask once. Where did the Countess come from after the manor broke down?”

“How would I...” He pauses because I raise my blade. “I could point you in the general direction.” The old man quietly admits.

“Then go.” I coldly order before turning to the rest. “May none of you hold any illusions, I am very much aware that the Countess did not act alone and that anyone in a high position had an inkling of her actions so, please, do provoke me.”

Many among the group pale and I take note of their faces. As we make our way, the commotion on the plaza grows louder. It provides me with another reason why all these people were so eager to negotiate with Edusa's people, apart from their recent crushing defeat that is. As the group slows down, so do I to bring the Lieutenant apart.

“We weren't sent by Edusa and that's the line you'll feed them all until your tongue cramps.” I tell him.

“It's Duchess Hetlan, and as far as I know that is the truth.” The man replies with a deep frown.

“Whatever.” I dismiss. “Keep an eye on them and let them run away.”

“You want the scum to run?” He asks, blinking.

“This disaster is the best thing that Edusa could have hoped for, she'll be able to rally the entire Duchy against these people. Even better if they run to Meiridin for protection.” I coldly spell it out for the man.

“They need to face justice.” He gripes with a harsh expression.

“Who said otherwise?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “Trust me, you won't find proof enough to condemn them all so hang the worst whose actions you can prove and let the rest go free because their escape will prove their guilt in the people's eyes more than any testimony.”

“...” The man falls silent.

I accelerate my pace and head off towards the plaza to have a look, forcing the entire group to come to a stop because my departure causes the old bourgeois to stop, unaware of what to do or if I'll take his life if he leaves without me.

There, I find utter chaos. There are people yelling in the center near injured soldiers set in rows to next to the hole I blew in the pavement. Among these guards are many ordinary people who look injured with broken arms and black eyes, it seems there was large brawl after I left.

Away from the battlefield, I spot two officers hanging from a rope attached to their necks and a beam protruding from the side of an inn. One of these two is dressed in clothes that make it evident he was a Noble. As the Lord's body spins, I spot a crude dagger plunged in his back.

“That got violent quicker than I thought it would.” I comment.

“The disappearances weighed on the community, the fact that they were murdered... I think the only reason there wasn't a riot is because many didn't want to fight after the battle and most think the Countess is dead.” Rowland tells me.

“Did she survive? I didn't check.” I ask.

“She is alive but she might be paralyzed and there is a good chance she'll die from the wound... eventually.” He answers.

“My sundering construct isn't forgiving.” I agree with the assessment. “It's remarkable enough she stayed conscious.”

“Quarter and hang her body!” A furious voice bellows.

“Hang them all!” A tearful voice cries out.

“Alright, I've seen enough.” I note while turning away.

We leave and follow the bourgeois with an escort of several dozen soldiers led by the Lieutenant to a building located near the manor's ruins. It's a large and unassuming warehouse built from logs.

There is naught to stop us at the entrance but, once inside, it doesn't take long to notice that the length of the room is too short so I walk up to the back wall and start knocking on it with my weapon's pommel.

“Mind if we tear it down?” Rowland asks as I raise my blade.

Before others can answer, I slash twice at the logs with a sundering construct. The wall buckles and then crumbles, revealing a room with a long rectangular table as well as a dozen blood-red robes hung on individual wooden frames.

The 'important' people behind me gasp at the sight because those who knew want to appear surprised while the rest didn't expect so many of them to be involved. I turn to the Lieutenant.

“Now you know how many need to be caught.” I tell him before stepping into the room.

I quickly find a trapdoor behind the leader's seat at the table and walk downstairs. At the bottom, I encounter a golden swirling runic array that blocks my way forward, it was likely very recently activated by the Countess so as to prevent us from chasing her so it's no doubt dangerous.

“This looks dangerous.” The old bourgeois speaks up, echoing my thought. Many above let out murmurs of agreement. “We should go back and let the flow dissipate naturally.”

“Should we now?” I ask with a smirk.

I make a tiny cut on my thumb with the edge of my sword and inject a portion of energy in the drop of blood. I press my thumb on the very edge of the construct to inspect it.

As Liz describes, it is made of a liquid ascending itself before falling back down once it reaches the top to form a never-ending loop as long as there is energy. It seems to me like it wouldn't be very coherent or able to block but, when I try to apply pressure with my weapon, the fluid seemingly freezes into a solid form.

When I pull my blade away, it returns to its previous form without any sign of weakening. I think back to what solidifying my blood did to the liquid, how it almost killed me.

“It's made of blood but not only.” I quietly note.

“Can you break it?” Rowland asks.

“Easily.” I assure.

I apply a defensive construct to my long broadsword and smear blood across the edge. Then, I plunge my weapon in the construct and start dismantling it from within by using my absolute control.

I recover fifteen portions from it, which is about half of what it used. The golden energy permeating the runes on the tunnel walls soon fade and the cascade crumbles with a red splash to stream downstairs. I head down.

I enter an ovaloid room about four meters wide with a pool occupying most of the space. There is a small quantity of blood at the bottom and an altar rising above the edges at the center.

Runes are embed all across the walls of the pool but they're difficult to spot because there are pictures engraved as well. People wielding serpentine knives, like the one I've seen Wraith use, to sacrifice naked peasants.

The most prevalent symbol present on the four cardinal directions is a pyramid pointing downward into a Lake that causes a shiver to run down my spine. What do you think? I'm not thinking. I turn to find Rowland who shrugs next to the pale Lieutenant. The others didn't come down.

“Do you know what the symbol represents?” I ask the man.

“It's... it's bad.” He mutters while swallowing.

“We knew that, get a grip.” I snap.

“They're from an old, old, old cult.” The Lieutenant says. “That's... about all I know.”

“Useless.” I grumble.

The man makes an apologetic expression and follows as I rush back upstairs, as if deferring to me. It's depressing what people will let you get away with when you simply act with authority while seeming like you know what you're doing.

“You, what does the pyramid mean?” I ask the old bourgeois.

“How should I know?” The old man snaps with an ugly expression.

Flow streams into my muscles and I kick the ground. I lion's step from my spot past two soldiers and land right in front of him. My knee impacts his chest, propelling the man in his fine cloth robe at the wall. I flick my sword up and press it to his throat, locking him in place.

“The pyramid sinking into the lake, one of them had a jewel at the point of contact.” Liz growls.

“Help! She's crazy!” The bourgeois erupts. I really am, good argument.

“You led us right here, answer her Sir.” The Lieutenant orders with a dark expression.

“I showed you the road, that's it!” The man panically protests. Liz slides my blade along his neck, carving a thin red line. “No! No!” He squeals.

“Answer.” I coldly demand.

“It symbolizes the Grand Endeavor!” The bourgeois exclaims desperately. “That the less low born there are, the closer high born are to the Lake! The last will be the ultimate Chosen!”

I blink, stunned by the revelation. The source of their belief is evident. It comes from the Emperor's legend as well as the fact that the Lake is utterly impartial in distributing flow.

It baffles me that these people would be clear-headed enough not to believe Noble propaganda about being born with more access but so mad they would believe the Lake's goal is for humans to slaughter each other until a single all-powerful one remains.

“You have your answer, Dame Freepath.” The Lieutenant intervenes. “We'll take it from here.”

I almost kill the man on the spot but, as I told the others, he will suffer much more if left to his own. Especially after confessing this, he'll have to explain his knowledge to people eager to find a scapegoat so as to absolve themselves. No, not another breath of air, he dies now.

I sigh and take a step back, pulling my long broadsword away from his throat. The old bourgeois' knees almost give out from relief but he quickly rearranges his robes, likely to scamper away with some dignity.

I thrust my blade into his stomach and swipe it to the left in his guts before bringing it back to the right at a diagonal to further destroy his insides. The man gasps and tries to grab me only for his nails to break on my cuirass' steel interlocked bands.

“Nooo!” He cries out.