Venturing into strange places were events that consistently garnered some degree of attention from Camille. Some degree of perhaps lasting affection or some other feeling that bordered on curiosity and wonder, it must be said that the place that they had arrived to was not that.

From an outside perspective, it seemed to be just an apartment complex. One much in line with the ones of this city, it was tall, grey and all things considered, quite normal. Yet, if there was one thing Camille learned over the past few days, it was not to judge based on appearances alone. Driven by the instinct of an impending fight, Camille removed her mask and stuffed it into her inventory.

Then, to prepare, she drew her broadsword and gripped onto its shagreen handle with her left hand.

Broadsword (1.8 KG)

Effect A one handed sword of the early modern era, it has a basket shaped guard to protect the hand and was commonly used in the military. Grants +4 damage.

Camille gave a warm smile and nodded her head. Flourishing the blade with a stylish spin and twirl, Camille looked to Molok.

To her dismay, he did not so much as comment on it. His focus, which had since been diverted to his mission and his mission alone, was all that was on his mind.

"I will proceed". Upon finishing his remark, Molok began to approach the apartment's entrance.

Through the single glass door, which should've by all means been locked, the whole thing was quite suspicious. But between letting him run in alone and them both running in, Camille had chosen the latter.

There was more than sheer empathetic virtue to that choice. While Camille had taken a subtle liking to the boy, the fact of the matter was that logic played a big part in her decision making too. As it turned out, if Molok was to die while journeying inside, then she was as good as dead too. Sure, maybe not from whatever crude magician awaited inside the apartment, but from another one in the park was no better.

I'm going to wipe that smile off your face. Directed towards Aedi, Camille painted a mental image of brutal victory. One accompanied by stomping her exquisitely wretched face in alongside a good dose of laughter, the sheer thought alone was enough to bring Camille to a grin.

By the time she processed that fantasy, a blue box had appeared again. Quick to dismiss it, Camille rerouted her attention to what was to come.

Moving through the carpeted entrance, Camille just noticed that the whole house was really quite old. While she had been too distracted earlier to take it all in, now was different. Confronting the building head on meant that her sense of perception had returned to her. Apparent through its burgundy embellishments and wooden furnish, this structure must've been at more then a hundred or so years of age. Though, that wasn't to say it was poorly taken care of by any means. As evident through the glass door and lack of tear on the walls and floors, the building was still being renovated.

Still being kept alive to this very day, it was an odd juxtaposition when taken into consideration with the lack of people.

It was just then that Molok pushed open another door. A wooden one segmented by panels of stained glass, Camille saw it lead to a staircase. Astonished ever so slightly at the sheer scale of what laid ahead, the staircase was a construction that seemed more fitting in a hotel then anything else. Wide to the point where it could support half a dozen people horizontally, Camille could not help but crease her brow and ponder.

Taking a moment, she then stopped herself. No matter what her opinion were, facing it seemed inevitable. As Molok, who affirmed of his decision with a nod, proceeded onwards.

Following in his wake, they were now on the steps to the second floor. Stopping just short of a intersection, the two of them paused. Looking to the lit hallway above, there was still no sign of their enemy. Abandoned and devoid of life as it were, there came not a single sound or sight from where they headed towards.

A fact that made her all the more cautious, Camille felt like a foreign intruder. One that trod upon the land of ghosts, in a land which they should not witness or much less be.

"The magician should be up there."

The boy shattered the silence with those words.

Camille, who acknowledged it, pressed on ahead. Presumably, to address her action, Molok then grabbed onto her hand.

"Wait, let me go first."

Thinking that over, Camille then said, "You're a lot squishier than I am, so it'll make more sense if I do it."

"But."

"There are no buts. If you die, I die anyway, remember?" As she said that, Camille saw the disagreement subside in the stillness of his posture. If she could not win based on her own principles, she would do so according to his.

"Plus, I'm tougher than you think. I'll cut down any magician before they can even touch me."

Considering that she couldn't explain the intricacies of HP and defence/resistance, Camille figured she did a damn well decent job. And anyway, he still could summon a magical shield as backup, so there was that as reassurance.

Odd as it may have been, a firm conviction was, nonetheless, something respectable. As Camille pressed her foot forward, a distinct material, more akin to a carpet, had rubbed against her shoe.

The two were now on the second floor. At the entrance of a long ominous hallway, the two took a moment to rest. It was a tense moment, further exemplified by the complete lack of anything.

Even now, there was no sound. And yet, the fact that something was ahead was inevitable.

Camille's heartbeat thumped in her eardrums. Vivid to the point of ache, she readied the sword in her left hand. Then, in one final arrangement, she took out the sausage roll from her pocket. Held in her right hand, the woman was now ready.

"Let me go first."

Her face looked at the ominous hallway. There were several doors, and a T-junction split it at the end. As such, there was no saying when the enemy would appear. To her dismay, Molok's spell could only reveal so much.

Thus, armed with her senses alone, the two advanced. Step by step, they made their way to the end of the hallway. Then, in the event they would reveal themselves, halted. Stopping to peek around the corner, Camille froze. In disbelief, Camille blockaded Molok with her left arm.

Ahead, just dead centre of the hallway was a person. Face first on the floor, he wore a red shirt and a fitting pair of jeans. Nothing about him seemed abnormal. Except, it was precisely lack of peculiarity which made it strange.

There were far better places to sleep than on the floor. That much was certain. In an apartment where a magician supposedly awaited, the least they could do was run in haphazardly.

"I'll go check it out."

At the behest of her words, Camille's body urged herself onward. Without a break or a fright conceived pause on the way, they arrived at the body.

"Sir, are you ok?"

Molok's words reached no one but Camille. Spoken to empty air and silence, only one option remained. To see if all was well, Molok's hand grabbed the man and began to turn him around. Ensuing that action came the sound of a moist sponge and the sight of a gaping hole. With an absence of flesh and tissue in where the man's face was supposed to be, Camille felt her heart thump in her ears.

Under such a condition, her immediate reaction was to turn around.

Whoever had done this was unquestionably nearby. Waiting in the shadow for an opportune moment to dispose of the intruders, Camille steeled herself for what was to come.

Shifting her body weight from one side to another, a sheen of sweat had formed on Camille's forehead. All the sensations and mechanisms of her body made her want to puke. To vomit all that remained in her stomach and crumble to the floor like a lifeless doll.

It doesn't feel real. Camille told herself. Seeing a lifeless and faceless corpse felt like a dream. Merely another one of her dreams or other works of fantasy, it was all too sudden.

Was this the world of magic that she was unaware of? The peak of the human power that she had so effortlessly tried to reach and now had?

"Show yourself!"

Having remained silent until then, Camille released all her dormant spirit with a yell. Pronounced with such ardent fervour that it echoed throughout the rest of the building and floor, the two had a good grasp of what would come next.

At that next instant, a whining sound akin to a large fan emerged from the other side of the floor. Remaining at a distance for a few seconds, it then grew louder. Then, as the sound grew louder from closing the distance, did the sound multiply. Perhaps then, there were two, three, or even five of these sounds simultaneously.

Finally, that was the incentive Camille needed. With the knowledge that her enemy was approaching, she was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

All this waiting around for nothing had gotten to her. If she was going to fight, then so be it.

While she was not completely absent of fear, it had now stabilized to a manageable point. To the point where she could even smirk and lower her legs into a proper stance, Camille was more than ready.

As a matter of fact, one could even describe her as thrilled.

"Now then, let's dance."