Chp 12: Count Teanio I

Serabelle's alarm ward pinged in the infirmary. She set it next to the Guild's front door, attuned to finding her husband. Able was still walking around the target location. She tracked his progress as carefully as possible, but her son's cries continued to ring in her mind and ruined her concentration. She held onto her wards with a light yet firm grip, waiting to feel their twinges and rings. Still, her dreams would be plagued by her son's screams during the ritual. I can add it to the rest of the screams; maybe it'll teach them a new song.

The feeling of helplessness washed over her as she watched her son's unmoving body. There was no magic she knew of, much less wield, that could help heal his lifespark that had been exhausted over the last week.

The plans to celebrate Jackson's adulthood tomorrow may need to be put off another day. An awakening is pain by design, but usually the recipient would get a boost of magic that comes with access to one's mana. Jackson used the last of his mana when he cast that bubble.

Mana could be seen like water filling a cup. Even if you drank all of it, usually, the cup would still have traces of water left at the bottom. Jackson's cup was emptied then held over a fire until dried and cracking. Each human used mana intrinsically as a piece of their body. The awakening allows access to the pool of magic and utilizes it according to the owner's soul. That last part was less technical and a subject of many debates throughout the centuries of academics studying it.

In other words, Jackson went through a ritual to tune his entire body to use mana throughout his body more deliberately. Then he burned through all of it and the body immediately starved and shut down.

There are cases of years going by before those mana-starved ever wake. Serabelle was grateful for the healer's immediate action. She remained at the guild the entire time Jackson underwent his ritual. She only found out after the fact that the woman was not asked to do so but chose to be ready to treat any issues that arise from such a barbaric ritual.

Serabelle was natural-awakened. In the struggles against beast and man as she grew up alone, she found her own magic waiting for her. She hated the idea of a ritual to torture the awakening out of a person. Granted, it was proven to be effective and did seem to have the best results in the long term. At least as far as forced awakenings. She absently traced the faint white lines on her son's chest. I hope this is worth it for you, my son.

Her worries fed her anger which she stored away as she heard her husband's heavy boots stop at the door. Antel's deep voice seemed to vibrate through the door, but she couldn't make out the words. It sounded like he was arguing with someone.

She stood and passed through her obscuring and defensive lines around Jackson and opened the door. A receptionist was standing in the way of a mountain of steel and muscle. He wore his Sansteel armor, a metal that Antel's father enchanted against foreign magics. It was brown enough to be thought of as bronze if you missed the red veins. He wore enough money to rebuild the city and looked good doing it.

Serabelle put a hand on the flustering receptionist, "He's with me. While he does not make a habit of visiting the Guild, you should know him. This is my husband, Antel."

The receptionist shuffled off to the side with her ears aflame. She looked to her coworker, who was giggling at the faux pas, "I thought that he was the smith?" While she meant to whisper, the man's armor and stature led her to believe he was one of the people trying to hurt little Jackson. And it was his father no less!

"And adventurer," Antel groused. Sera knew he was regretting not coming around once in a while. When he dressed up, it still brought her back to their first quests together. "Jackson?" he asked softly.

"Follow me. The kids?" Antel stepped to the side and revealed Daryl holding the hands of Jason and Syndra. Daryl wore a waraxe at his waist, and she agreed it was the right weapon for him. In the short distance he walked to pass her and enter the infirmary, he obviously struggled to walk with the weapon on his hip. She knew he would likely use it well with the combative tutor they hired years ago, but his lack of experience wearing it casually showed as he walked with it banging into the doorway.

Leann walked in after him. She felt out of place in the Sanmey group but was trying to project confidence. Sera approved. Autumn walked in behind her and they exchanged short greetings. Others might think it innocent but she saw his antennae signaled hunt and nervous. She sent back anger, kin, and hurt. He nodded like a human would and stood off to one side to observe. As an outsider to the family, she wasn't confident he would join their hunt but she knew he would protect her son if they asked.

When she dropped the wards so everyone could see Jackson, the kids went to his side immediately. Serabelle took Antel's hand as he looked on. To anyone else they might see a giant peering out from a slit in the helmet with hard eyes. She saw the worry there and squeezed his hand hard enough to draw his attention.

He looked down and his eyes softened at the love in her eyes. Serabelle smiled at him before looking back to the kids around Jackson. "He's just resting now. The awakening took much more out of him than it usually would. I am hoping that you kids would watch over him here while your father and I deal with some business."

Daryl and Autumn knew something was going on but Serabelle ignored them as she dragged Antel away and set up a small sound ward. Immediately the din from the guild hall silenced and her whole world seemed to consist of her and Antel. With a bit of effort she could make the barrier one way so she might hear others without them hearing her but saved the mana.

"You look good husband. I am glad you wore your nice shirt today," she said and pulled on his armor. He obliged her and took off his helm and kissed her softly. Even with the hardness of his armor, she liked the reassurance of his arms around her. She followed that up wiith, "We will have to kill some nobles tonight."

He looked so adorably confused, "I-"

"Yes, we have a date tonight at some very… ah, high class, establishments. I imagine our kids will need to stay here and babysit."

He caught up with her train of thought after a moment. "I see. What happened?"

"At least five mages tried to interfere with the awakening ritual by-and this is conjecture-placing a barrier of some kind between Jackson and his magic. Similar to stifling a mage's magic but in the ritual, it was more akin to stifling his very soul," her words were said matter of factly, but her anger sent small ripples of her aura out. Antel pulled her into another, longer, embrace. He pretended not to hear her sniff as her strong exterior crumbled and betray her tears. "My baby almost died! And I stood there not ten feet away, not knowing any better. If it was not for Henry saying something…"

"Hm. I guess he did? And Jackson survived. Did he awaken?"

Serabelle wiped her eyes and grinned, "He even cast a water sphere!"

"Right after he awakened?" Antel asked, his bushy eyebrows climbing up his head.

"He said, "Look, Mom!" and used the rest of his mana to make a sphere right before passing out."

"Jackson's definitely our son," Antel said proudly. Then, looking at his son's thin body, his eyes lost their glimmer, "So who did this?"

Serabelle outlined one of her usual plans of destruction, fulling expecting Antel to reign in her sleep-deprived mind. He didn't. Instead he supported her plan wholeheartedly. They would minimize innocents' deaths but would not shy from showing their strength. Not doing so put them in this situation.

When the sound barrier dropped, they returned to Jackson's bedside. Autumn was the first to notice. He asked, "He has Awakened, yes? This one congratulates you and him. Though this one notices Jackson seems to be suffering from mana depletion? Do you not have a mana potion? Is that the right word? Potion?"

"Potion is the correct word. There was damage done to his lifespark by a foreign party." said a female voice from the desk on the far side of the room. Foreseeing the next question, the short woman continued, "The mages responsible are being dealt with. Any potions given to him will hamper his lifespark repairing and forging the correct mana channels. Healer Joann is quite capable even if she lives this far away from the main cities."

Sera nodded to her. Regret twinged her heartstrings as she thought, I wish I could have found a way to heal with my magic. Her husband bumped her with a knowing look. He really did know her too well. Then again, he was the one who helped her bury the bodies of their fallen friends.

Unfortunately, tonight might be another one of those nights. Serabelle's eyes went wide as the tracking ward on Able broke abruptly. It was time to move. Only two things could damage the tracking ward on Able: a stronger magical bond or the loss of energy to the part of the body she warded. She vaguely remembered bonding her ward to his hand and hoped he still lived.

"Antel, the ward I left on Able snapped. He's the one I sent to scout ahead of us," she said quickly. "Time to go."

The giant pursed his lips and looked around the room, his gaze lingering on his eldest. A long couple of seconds passed without him making a move; a couple of seconds where Serabelle nearly tore out her hair. She wanted to kill and spill blood. To fight and subdue the people who would hurt her family. She tugged on his arm, pulling him towards the door. Even his massive frame shifted under her strength.

He resisted, but before she could speak, Antel said, "Autumn, would you watch over my family here as Serabelle and I step out for a bit. This will not take long."

Autumn seemed to expect this, and his antennae twitched worry and guard. "This one will remain here and watch over your seed."

Antel hummed at the phrasing but thanked him all the same. Daryl spoke up before they left. "What about me, Dad? I am coming along, right?"

Serabelle wanted to scream, but she waited for Antel's response. She knew this was one of those man-to-man things, and Daryl was technically one of his apprentices, not hers. It would be easier to hear that he was staying behind from his Master and father aft-

"You can come. You will have to stay by me as your mother's magic is-"

"No!" she interrupted...or perhaps she would need to step in and protect her baby. She turned to her foolish husband and whispered, "What are you thinking? This isn't goblins we are hunting. At the least, I expect a couple of mages and a decently well-positioned noble. A trap." She practically hissed the last words through her gritted teeth. And she was not whispering by the end of it.

"Mom, I know how to fight. Somebody hurt my brother; I can help. Just show me where to go and let me swing my axe," Daryl said. Serabelle was proud of him, but she would not put another one of her babies in danger. Not ever-if she could help it.

"NO. You will stay here and watch Jackson and protect your sister. Or would you leave her here in the care of strangers? We are chasing someone who may be familiar with soul magic, and I refuse to expose you to danger as your brother lays there unable to wake."

Daryl's brows lowered in a scowl, and he looked ready to argue back, but Autumn stepped in front of him. "Excuse this one for interrupting, but a lot of mana just washed over your house. A few of my roots just perished."

Serabelle turned to Antel and raised an eyebrow to him, he's your son but I am your wife. She hoped he got the message through his thick head.

Antel looked at Daryl, then his wife who was waiting for him with an expectant expression. He sighed, "Daryl, watch your sister. If you did come along, you are not wearing armor that would keep you safe enough from a stray bolt or spell. I can not watch both you and your mother's back without knowing how you fight. Next time, we will fight together and show our enemies the strength of the Sanmey!"

Serabelle had to resist rolling her eyes, but the impromptu speech seemed to work on Daryl. Her son looked like a fire burned in his eyes, and he ran around the bed and embraced the two of them. "Just… be safe?"

"Of course. I love you, Son."

"I love you too, Da."

Syndra appeared in the middle of them and hugged Serabelle's legs. "I love you too! When you get back, we can get coffee together!"

Serabelle frowned at her youngest. Who was telling her that the black brew was so good? At first she ignored it but now it was clear someone around her family was- focus, Sera! Thoughts of Able and Jackson floated through her mind. She didn't know if Able was alive, but she feared the worst. Every second they spent here was one more he bled and her son's assailent lived.

Even so, she pulled out of the group hug slowly. Clearing her throat, she nodded to Autumn and turned for the door. Her steps were brisk, and she was glad to hear her husband's behind her a moment later.

The two of them marching through the Guildhall drew every eye. Their armor not only stood above anything a Hamblin native ever saw, but the Sanmeys were no longer hiding their strength. For too long they lived among the masses; it made them appear weak. Serabelle regretted that her reputation and history hurt her son. She kept a hold on the pulse of her anger, but there was no mistaking the bloodlust in their wake.

"Serabelle, STOP," the voice froze most of the room. A wave of mana rushed through the room, and the younger guild members were frozen as something primal inside of them shrunk away from the source. In fact, of the room, only Serabelle and Antel seemed immune to the mana aura. "I did not expect you to move this quickly."

Guild Leader Henry stood on the balcony overlooking the hall with several people following after him. Since the ritual, he had not rested and was wearing the same shirt she saw him in the day before. Despite this, he stood tall and confidently. Serabelle noticed the receptionist that was supposed to warn her when Henry left. The girl was not meeting Serabelle's eyes. Sera sighed. She was hoping to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

"Guild Leader, is there something you need?" she tried, feigning ignorance. If she gave him the chance to proclaim ignorance about what is going on in front of the Guild he could claim innocence. Granted, anyone with half a wit would see through it.

Serabelle understood the position he was in. Letting high-level adventurers set off to kill a bunch of nobles and mages did tend to sour relations between adventurers and the city's governing body. Even if they were in the right.

Henry's position was staked on his ability to control the adventurers under him. If an adventurer became unstable enough to threaten the populace, Henry would remove them from the city by force. Serabelle watched the gears turn in his head as he bought himself time by looking around the room.

There wasn't a single adventurer in the room who hadn't picked up that something big was happening. The tense moment passed through the entire hall as everyone looked to the battle-ready Sanmey pair and their Guild Leader, who just unleashed a mana aura in a crowded room.

"Do you know the name of the target you hunt? And its support?" he asked vaguely.

Serabelle forced her smile wider, "Nope. But if it has already taken an adventurer, it should be put down."

"Who?" Henry asked quickly.

"Able Norman. He was supposed to keep his distance and scout. The tracking on him was forcibly severed," Serabelle said. She hoped Leann wasn't listening but didn't turn to look at the infirmary.

Henry drew in a sharp breath, "That… changes things. I cannot raise the reward for your quest, but if you capture and subdue, that might answer some questions Hamblin is curious about. The lord himself may have questions for you either way."

She read between the lines: Don't kill them all, and there is something going on with this noble that is important to the city governor himself. Information was always rewarded, but she didn't think capturing was an option in this case. If she murdered a noble, she knew standing trial was a necessity and something she'd experienced before.

"Thank you, Guild Leader. My husband I hope to save the scout, so we need to move quickly."

Henry might have asked for a handful of parties to go with them but he knew that they wouldn't be strong enough to keep Serabelle from killing Count Teanio. The man's connections to the southern kingdom seemed to be the cause for targeting Serabelle's family but Henry didn't have enough time to find out the specifics.

"Good luck on your hunt. I am sending a runner to the castle. I, myself, will follow with backup."

Serabelle nodded to Henry, then turned smoothly toward the exit and continued walking. Antel gave her the hand signal for scout. In this context, it meant he wanted to know what just happened. She nodded and after getting away from the street, she set up a silencing ward. "The noble targeting us has some sort of support from either the mage's chapter or another faction that opposes Hamblin. He does not want us killing everyone and hopes to get information from them. If we do that, he'll give us a reward."

"Hmm," Antel thought. "I care not for the politics. They target us and think to live? They best have the personal strength to back it up."

"Yes. While we may not know everything, I do want to try saving Able. I put him in this situation. More imporantly, they have targeted us. And by extention-our family. We go in as if clearing a warren. Any people we see could be threats, but I cannot justify killing innocents. While I can not burn down the entire building, but we cannot let the one's responsible escape."

Antel nodded. "Let us move quickly then. If they have spies watching us, drop a silencing ward on the building while we disable the guards outside. Then leave a web ward to let us know who is leaving. I will knock and we will clear it top to bottom." The web ward worked like it sounds. It would stick to people and creatures that walked through it and keep them within a certain radius of the center. While it was not hard to escape, Sera could find her mana's traces on a person for an entire day after.

She nodded, and as one, they ran through the streets. Their figures quickly shot through the city and a half hour's trip turned into a blur as they arrived a block away. Only those specializing in movement techniques would surpass their anger-fueled speed.

Serabelle signaled a halt and pointed out the property Able's ward cut out. The mage she was tracking was still in the building. Antel nodded, and she immediately began drawing runes in the air around her. Antel paced a slow circle as red ward glyphs began to create a bubble around her. It was always impressive how swiftly she made her various spells. While she might have struggled early to produce anything resembling offensive capabilities, her runes added a nearly unheard of ability to adapt to different situations.

The little light show drew the attention of the people around them on the street. Hamblin's streets were rarely packed, but a crowd began to form to watch the two figures in full armor casting spells. Serabelle's wards hissed as they began to swirl around her, and she held her arms out to the sides, done writing.

Suddenly the words shot into her armor and red glyphs emblazoned themselves before fading to a dull burgundy. Her formerly shining silver armor became the base for her glyph armor. The armor didn't change shape but only a fool would miss the crackle of energies infused inside of it. Few elemental spells would touch her, and now she had access to many spells she could summon in an instant.

For the finale, she sent a part of her mana into the runes lining her back. The crowd around them stumbled back from the flaming wings that took shape. A mage might notice the glyphs wavering inside the flames at risk of losing their eyebrows to the fire.

Antel nodded to her before walking toward the manor she indicated. He felt the heat roll over him as Serabelle leaped into the air. He glanced up and saw her flying above the estate with her silver staff glowing blue as she cast various spells. The four guards standing at the gate were watching her, mouths agape.

He smiled wryly under his helm. What were these guards ever going to do to prevent a mage who could just fly over their walls? In sharp contrast, his approach didn't drew their attention until he stopped infront of them. The lead guard started and stumbled out of his shadow. In a shaky voice, "H-halt. This manor belongs to Count Teanio. What business do you have here?"

Antel lifted the long two-handed sword from the mana tying it to his back. The blade was undoubtedly the size of any of the men in front of him and Antel pointed it at them with one arm as he took another step forward. "Stand out of the way. The business we have needs not your blood."

The guards looked at each other. He genuinely hoped they would stand down, but the lead guard swallowed his fear and unsheathed his own blade. It took two tries for him to level toward Antel.

He was disappointed but not surprised. A man should not stand aside and neglect his duty. Still, Antel would do his best not to cripple or kill them. As this was no clan, he doubted they knew of the goings-on of the noble inside. While he knew his wife was burning with rage, his was cold and precise. His focus was no different than when he sharpened a blade's edge in his smithy. These guards wouldn't stand a chance against him.

Meanwhile, Serabelle finished casting her silencing and trap wards over the house. Her husband had his battle below, but she wasn't worried. What did catch her attention was the swarm of guards coming out of a side building. A servant must have seen her approach and ran for the noble's personal guards.

At this point, she was very tempted into giving the anger flooding her veins free rein. Hurt her family? Something in her told her protested killing the guards, but it would not be the first time guards risked their lives for their coin.

She drew a circle in the air with a twirl of her staff. On the ward's semisolid surface, she formed the glyphs for flames and heavy. With a flick of her will she sent the ward she drew on to the ground below her. The circle expanded as it fell, and the runes ignited with her mana. Flames shot down to the earth and flowed across the magically manicured grass. Stones and blades of grass were blasted away from the epicenter. Yet, even in her rage, she only allowed the edge of the spell to strike the guards.

Burns and broken bones were curable. And this would teach them a lesson for involving themselves with her enemies. But they would live. She observed their groans and writhing bodies. One man attempted to stand, but she dove to him and smashed his helm in with her staff. His armor was better than the others, and she knew him to be the mercenary's captain. The spray of viscera told her he would not be standing again. Ever. A faint thrill filled her as well as frustration.

It was one thing to win a fight. It was another to win a slaughter like this might have been.

No healers seemed to be present, so she left the rest of them alive. Her husband finished smashing his opponents unconscious with the flat of his blade. The guards laying around him wore battered armor, and all of their legs were snapped. Her rage approved, but she didn't say anything.

She wanted to send her ward flood through the mansion and kill everyone, but even her fury needed to see the man who ordered her son's death.

Antel walked right through the flames she dropped in the courtyard to the front door. She hovered just behind him. "Hold a moment and let me cast a minor flame flood. I imagine we have an audience waiting for us. If its servants, walk in. If enemies, step to the side, and I will release it." She saw his nod and again twirled her staff. She rolled her mana with a bit of a flair as she filled her ward circle. Runes she hadn't needed to cast for years were etched into the space in front of her. Each hummed with power. The effort of being awake for a week straight was wearing on her concentration and she had to use more mana to stabilize the spell.

After working together for decades, Antel knew when she was ready. He set his sword to the right, using mana to let it stand next to him, point balancing unnaturally on the stone surface. The entrance held doors made of a dark wood that seemed to be treated with magic to be more durable.

Her husband drew both palms back, and his gauntlets glowed with a faint brown light before he snapped forward. Both hands smashed into the door and all the force in his body broke the doors off their hinges. The doors became projectiles and the clatter of metal spoke of armored guards struck by the heavy wood.

He immediately stepped to the side, and Sera's feral grin made her appear a demon rather than a valkyrie. In a split second before she let loose, she saw a wide entryway like a ballroom. Maybe fifty people stared out at her.

The ward holding back her flood dissipated in a splash of embers. One portal of fire later and the sounds of an inferno drowned out the yells coming from inside. A veritable sea of burning letters rushed through the broken doors and into the mansion's foyer. The spell acted like a wave and gained height as it gained momentum. Before they knew it, the people inside the room were facing a tidal wave of flaming runes towering above them.

The wave poured over the barriers a few mages set up and around them, continuing unimpeded to crash into the far wall. Any mages or warriors that didn't get behind a barrier were seared by her glyphs. The more that struck a single person, the deeper they engraved themselves into their exposed skin. Slower mages only cast front-facing barriers and screamed in horror as the flames rushed around the edges of their spells.

It is a useful spell against enemies with no resistances to elemental magic; against most scaled enemies or full barriers, completely useless. The wave did nothing to inanimate objects. An ornate vase sitting on a table was unharmed even as its floral arrangement burned inside it. As for the people? The room was a raging inferno one moment, and the next, the flames died away, leaving doomed victims behind. Any runes on the face all but seared their deaths into them. The rest of them would have to purge the fire mana from their bodies or it would cook them from the inside out.

Sera and Antel walked into the mansion together. His veined armor and massive longsword promising overwhelming strength. Her wings and silver spear swore the coming of an angel of death. If she wasn't so pissed, she would appreciate the image they conveyed, especially with the hellscape still burning behind them in the courtyard.

Serabelle activated a rune by her eyes and looked around the room. Under her breath, she told Antel, "Nine mages, three warriors left. No spells in the room aside from the barriers. A few have enchanted rings. Good weapons on all of them but enchanted weapons on the white-haired mage on the landing."

"Strength?"

"Gold level at best. I think the white mage above is looking one is the noble in charge."

"I will attack head-on then," Antel said.

They both knew there was no way to resolve the problem without bloodshed. The men in front of them obviously expected them. She was about to make her move when a new man walked in holding a bloodied and nude Able. The gleam of a blade at his throat kept them from moving immediately. "Guess we will have to talk after all."

"Ah, the Sanmeys, welcome to my home," the white haired man said. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Have you come for the thief we caught?" Though his tone was conversational, his eyes did not reflect the smile on his face. He was gesturing with one of Able's arms.

"Who the fuck are you?" Serabelle spat. The arm dropped and the nobleman recoiled slightly, "Such vulgarity does not become the Valkyrie of legends. I would hope you might know whose house you sent a thief to. Helana, if you would."

A female mage cleared her throat from the stairs, "This is Count Richard Teanio, son of Roman Teanio. Ruler over the province of Teanio."

"Never heard of him. Release Able and fight us like a man. Or can you not and that why you tried to kill my son by proxy?" Serabelle asked. She knew the noble was buying time to get the Hamblin guard to show up, but she didn't want to be the reason Able died. At least if they were taken to trial, she could always kill him later. The trial was presided by a jury of nobles-the Sanmeys would not win-but that mattered little in the long run.

"Violence is not the answer, dear lady!" a part of Serabelle absently noted he said this while still playing with her friend's severed arm. He turned to her husband, "Smith Antel, is this how you conduct your affairs? Control your wife, man! You bring shame to your name and position. How could you let her act as such in public?"

A spell formed in a side room, Serabelle catching sight of it as it finished forming. "Antel, left!" she yelled.

With another flex, a warding barrier formed between them and the door to their side. Not a second too soon as jets of water shot into her barrier to splash harmlessly onto the floor. The holes in the solid stone in the side of the room spoke of the power contained behind the water. She shook her head though. Her barrier didn't tremble and that meant it would have just gotten her armor wet at most. Antel said something behind her but it was lost under the sound of water. She wanted to glance at him but the rest of the mages in the room begin casting their own spells at that moment.

All of them seemed to need to chant to cast their magics and Serabelle sneered. Wordless casting was the minimum skill necessary to challange her. She grounded her barrier by pushing her mana into the ground below her to hold the spell in place. With her massive reserves, it cost nothing to defend against the gold level threats in the room. Now her husband had a place to retreat to if reinforcements overwhelmed him.

Thus, she was freed up, and her eyes locked on the Count.

His strength augmented by magic weapons might be enough to harm them. Her husband put his hand out and signaled, go. She kicked off the ground and broke through the sidewall where the water came from.

She appeared in front of a mage wearing a cliche blue robe. Sera let her mana loose in an aura blast. The wave of mana made the mage fumble her words and Sera struck through the barrier with her spear. Blue runes flashed on the tip of the spear, and it easily pierced the opposing magic. Without stopping her motion, she slashed her spear sideways and cut out the throat of the mage. No more surprising water bursts.

Her wide eyes betrayed her shock, but Serabelle ignored the gurgles as the mage tried futility to stop the bleeding. By the time her body hit the ground, Sera flew out of the dust back into the entryhall. Her next target was the woman standing on the stairs, Helana. As she announced the Count and didn't stand on the ground level, she was probably somebody important.

The older lady stopped her chant as she deflected Sera's first strike with the snap of a ring breaking on her finger. The yellow barrier over her heart wasn't pierced but Sera's blow still sent the woman crashing against the stairs. It wasn't hard enough to stun her as a blast of fire magic shot from her hand and washed over Sera's armor. Serabelle didn't block the flames and let the mana burn off the blood coating her front.

Sera stabbed through the woman's heart. Again, the surprised look. Sera just shook her head. When you've seen an elder wyvern's flames fail to melt her armor, every other flame just seemed to be a candle. With a twist, she removed the spear and absently checked the runes coating the speartip. The yellow barrier was a surprise, and that ring must have cost a pretty copper.

Glancing around the room, she noticed that the majority of it was focused on Antel. Spells of flaming earth and light were washing over the large man. His armor seemed to slide past the attacks and his sword cut through them. She looked in time to see the three warriors stepping up to be cut down just as quickly. His mastery over his metal magic allowed his blade to expand mid-swing. A simple gimmic but with his size, he wasn't expected to move that quickly. Two heads were sent clean off in a moment. The third man was shorter and a bit further back and was only knocked from his feet.

The mages below shouldn't be a problem for Antel's skill even if he was rusty. She lifted her eyes to Teanio. The shoulder-length white hair did nothing to hide the sweat pouring down his furrowed face. Sparks appeared around him as he readied spells for her approach.

Rage surged in her as she saw Able's body at the feet of the man behind the Count. With a jump and a clap of her wings, she shot toward the noble. The fear in his eyes actually disappointing her. A hundred streams of mana exploded from him and consolidated into a beam that rushed to meet her charge.

And she was shocked; the mana in the attack not enough to justify raising anything more than a small ward shield in her off-hand. The man barely qualified to be a gold adventurer.

Nothing he could do to her would really give her a challenge if this was all he could summon in the time it took her to reach him. Even the water mage held more mana in her attack. Sera's own lifespark seemed to ache at the realization that this fight was boring. The rage built up over days seemed to stall out as the lightning washed off the ward and grounded itself into the ground below her.

Absently, she noted that the water mage she killed would have great synergy with his lightning magic. Soaking herself or her husband then using lightning hypothetically might bypass any enchantments on their armor. It wouldn't have worked but it was a better attempt than other factions had tried.

Even as her offhand guided the lightning magic away from her, she cut off its source with a stab to the Count's heart. Her movement hidden in the blinding light of the lightning in front of him. A victorious smile on his face told her that he didn't comprehend who he faced. There would be no drawn-out fight or last words. His eyes dulled before his brain realized he died.

His eyes would not haunt her dreams. Her enemies deserved no remorse. They merely should have grown stronger like she did.

A door slamming closed at the end of the balcony reminded brought her back into the moment. She removed her spear as she looked around for the figure who was responsible for killing Able. The ward she placed on the mage from the ritual was moving away from the room. She would catch up to him.

With her rage stilled for the moment, she moved to check on Able's condition. Faint hope for him remained despite the pool of blood soaking into the carpet. Moving to his side, she already held a healing potion in one hand. If he was dead she didn't know what she was going to tell Leann. The two were nearly inseparable since they'd met in the Guild. He couldn't be gone. She just saw him hours ago. The body in front of her was full of wounds akin to a beast's claws. She realized he was tortured, and rage began to build again. Even as she reached to turn him, she was didn't believe he was dead.

She only had to touch his shoulder to realize her mistake. The mana coursing through the body was more than any living person could handle. She wanted to stand up but the mana shot through her bare hand and into her chest, freezing her. What?

An explosion ripped through Able's body and she was thrown from the upper-tier. The foreign mana not giving her the chance to activate a single spell in her defense. As she flew through the air, she thought, "Nothing here can hurt me, huh?

She crashed headfirst into the ground and was knocked unconscious.

* * * * *

As soon as the explosion ripped through the room, Antel leaped back to give himself space. He took in the situation at a glance. The magic that slammed through the room full of death attuned mana, and he gritted his teeth through the surge that rushed into his visor. The mana felt like worms crawling through his eyes and brain before an emptiness that flooded his thoughts.

Because of this, he reacted on instinct to the body crashing to the ground next to him. His body lifting his sword in a defensive parry toward the person as he grabbed the foreign mana and forced it out of his system. When his vision cleared, he hesitated for the first time during the whole fight.

Was this an illusion or a curse of some sort? No, his body was purged of the spell. But...

"Sera?" His wife was lying on the ground, a gaping hole in her chest. She would get up any second and give him a smile. She would say something like, "I did not see that coming." or maybe, "Time for round two." In his mind, he refused to take in the sight of the armor he spent years crafting torn apart. Worse yet, it was blackened around the hole proving the armor itself was compromised.

His world shattered as he realized this was real. Antel's vision went red. He turned to find the responsible party even though he knew nobody else was moving in the room. The last mages falling to the insidious nature of death magic. Not dead but not quite alive. Wisps of black mana were forming around the room and floating toward her.

He howled with helplessness, and the very earth shook with his pain. "WHO HURT MY SERA?"

The silence was followed by the clatter of his sword on the ruined floor. His knees smashed into the ground as he fell by Serabelle's side. His hands shook as he removed his gauntlets and helm and tried to focus on her condition. All of their training in first aid rushing through his mind too fast for him to grab a hold of.

What do I do? What do I do!? "Sera, wake up. Tell me what to do!" The flesh in his wife's chest rotted in front of his eyes. He couldn't even tell if she was breathing. Tears blurred his vision as he picked her up as gently as possible.

A flash of insight rushed over him and he reached for the aid kit on his belt. I have to stop the bleeding. He knew better than to put a healing potion in a rotting wound. But while he wrapped the wound, he noted that there was no blood. The black mana seeming to stymie the flow wherever it touched. The bandages turned a yellow-brown instead of red and fear flushed through him again. He couldn't lose her, not like this.

A small voice in his mind remained logical and shouted to take her to the healers from very far away. The cascade of emotions in his head were too loud and his world was dying in his arms.

"Sera, no, wake up. Honey-please. You need to open your eyes. Tell me what to do. I cannot do this alone. Baby, please what can I do here?" his words failed him as his throat closed up. Even choked up, his heart screamed into the void as he begged the Goddess to come and save her. Then he promised the Enemy to serve him if it would save her. He didn't care. He would do anything.

For a long time he knelt there, a useless half-giant holding his world together with pins and twine. An insidious part of him murmured that nothing could truly save her, that it was his fault for letting Sera fight. Antel tried to refute the voice but he couldn't think of a counterargument.

He couldn't think of anything except that his wife would get up at any moment. How could he lose the brilliant smile in the morning when she woke him? What would he do without her soft form against his when he came home? What home would there be without her?

"Listen, I am sorry I act like an oaf sometimes. I will be better. I will do whatever you say but you have to wake up. Sera-please wake up-I can't lose you here."

The death mana in the room streamed toward Sera's body. When the first of it touched her, she shook in his hands. He thought she was waking up but then pain shot through him as the mana flowed through her and into him. A realization hit his addled mind. The spell wasn't done yet!

It brought him out of his mindless grief just enough. He realized that if there was nothing he could do, he could try to get her to someone who could help.

Antel tried shoving the mana away from him as he stood with his wife in his arms. The death magics laughed at his efforts until he channeled his mana to create a bubble around her body. It deflected all but the strongest of the death mana wreaking havoc on her body. Tears fell on her face as he absorbed the magic for her, the magic pain meaningless to the ache in his chest.

He brushed her hair out of her face, smearing blood on her perfect face. "You can't leave me here. You have to be with me as we watch Jackson grow up into a fine adventurer. Daryl will become a master craftsman greater than I and little Syndra still needs her momma to teach her how to become a strong woman. I need you here. I cannot do this alone. Sera please. Baby come back to me. You cannot leave me. You have to fight. I am going to get you help. Please fight for me. For us."

At first, the death magic kept him from moving as the worm-feeling filled his joints. A sinister laugh seemed to ring in his ears even as the screams of the damned echoed. But Antel Sanmey's weak body was not going to be the reason he lost the reason he smiled every morning. He couldn't lose her—better anything than that.

His first steps dropped him back to his knees. Under his armor, green veins pulsed and his muscles shrank as the mana fused into his body. The enchanted metal only trapping the magic inside. The magic running rampant now that he took it into his body willingly. Antel's eyes never left his wife's face as he forced himself to his feet and drew more of the evil magic away from her.

He forced his legs to take another step. Both shaking legs held his weight and obeyed his will this time. Even as his whole body was wracked with death magic. He took another.

He knew Death was standing above him, waiting for him to falter. So he took another step. The door was so far and he didn't think about how far he would have to go to find help. Another step. And another.

Was it days or years before voices carried through the miasma surrounding him? Antel could only stumble forward. Were they enemies? Is my life not enough for you, Death? He tried to laugh but only choked back another sob. He took another step. Nothing would stop him.

Without a sword, he would protect his wife with his life. A step.

Two arms reached out and a voice shouted meaningless words. Antel shrugged them off to the best of his ability. They were trying to stop him. Trying to take his wife. He tried to channel his magic into his armor but the death inside him intervened. More hands touched him and in his weakened state, he fell. His whole world narrowed to a pinprick around his wife's face. He prayed once more, silently as his voice was taken by someone screaming, Please, Goddess, do not let my weakness hold her back.