Lilith's making a remark about how Blythe doesn’t seem that dangerous when she’s leaped overhead them to disappear through one of the colosseum arches on the highest floor. Briefly glancing downwards, like she’s heard Lilith’s statement before straightening her gaze to pull the hood lower her eyes. But the shadows casted just makes her icy blue pupils glow brighter, especially in contrast to all the black she had on her. Cyan merely shrugs and retorts all Magia users are dangerous to a degree as they too begin heading for the exit.

Upon which, she stares at the sun bearing down bright on her.

Time does seem to pass slower during the day. Meandering down the streets as they are. Squeezing through the gaps between people, she turns over her shoulders to witness Cyan pawing into the pouch that they’ve received from the old man. So, she stops him by the wrist and reminds him that he’s promised that they could take the rest of the day off to explore.

There were many intricacies that caught her attention just scrolling through the map. She wanted to see the palace, the shops, the open area of what looks like a town center further inwards, and she’s also heard rumors of a festival being held there later tonight.

That’s when a crowd peaks her interests. They’re entirely surrounding a fabric store in a sea of semicircle. It’s gradually growing in size, so much, it’s blocking the road that the camel carts have to swerve around them. The collective whispers and mutters far blankets over the conversation occurring behind.

Intrigued, she grabs Cyan by the wrist and squeezes through despite his protests about not liking physical contact.

He’s so picky.

But she doesn’t have a chance commentate when she realizes it’s Wysera and her two minions. Wysera has Blythe backed against a table of brightly colored wares. Probably caught her the moment she’s left the colosseum. Red claws out, twined around the curve of her hip where she’s rested it. The other hand, she’s using to scratch beneath Blythe’s chin to tilt her gaze up, nearly puncturing into her throat,

“I hear, you cleared the old fool’s trial by yourself.” Wysera hums melodically,

“It’s a great opportunity for you to gain favor with Anarchy’s Moor if you hand over the pouch, he gave you.” Lilith’s heard of them. They were once a part of the Elite Ten until the guild leader’s gone into hiatus for some time. But due his recent reemergence and some new recruitments, they’ve been steamrolling their way back to the top.

Monotonously, she replies,

“Blythe...” softly and unfazed, “doesn’t like to be threatened.”

It makes Wysera laugh,

“Pardon?” before retreating to snap her fingers,

“I think I may have misheard you.” at that, the berserker and priest draw their weapons.

Thickening the air with hostile Magia and gasps of onlookers,

“What is it that you were saying?”

Wysera can’t possibly be thinking of starting a fight here. Can’t she read the atmosphere? There are so many civilians around. The poor shop owner behind her is panickily flickering her eyes about, quickly ushering her two young children behind the cashier counter before she scurries beside them and tries to appease,

“Please, valued customer. I’m sure the disagreement can be settled peacefully-” but she’s unable to finish her sentence before Wysera flicks at her. Throwing the woman on the ground. Three red stripes bleeding red through her halter dress as she registers the event to scrunch before her chest. In grimace, before she, trembling, brings her hand forward and stares at her blood-soaked palms. Too shaken to even speak.

Cyan on the other hand, beside Lilith is eagerly tugging at her wrist and whispering they should go. She’s choosing to ignore him to watch the scene unfurl, telling him she’s curious of what’s happening.

Giving the shopkeeper a downward glance, Wysera scoffs,

“I don’t recall you being involved in this exchange, wench.” her voice, cold as ice despite the fire in her eyes.

Immediately, her two boys rush out from behind the counter,

“Mommy!” the younger of which, shaking her shoulder worriedly, whereas the older, grabs a roll of fabric to swat at her with all his six-year-old strength,

“Leave!” his arms have barely developed enough to hold the make shift weapon up,

“You’re not welcome here!” he’s immediately blasted backwards upon hitting a blue Magia barrier. It’s one of the priest’s spells. Crashing into the lines of shelves. The force of it, rattling the top most rack. Ready to collapse on him.

At that, Lilith instinctively sprints forward,

“Watch out!” completing disregarding Cyan’s prior warning about not getting involved to shield the boy from the falling debris. Piling over her back, like hail, and crashing noisily to the ground around them in a puddle.

After realizing what’s going on, Lilith snaps her gaze up when the dust settles to frown,

“Bullying is uncool!” she’s seen this happen a lot in her town. And she doesn’t like it.

At the sight of her,

“Oh? Does every little brat who knows a little Magia wish to play hero now?” Wysera gestures to the berserker to come hither,

“Want to know the fun fact about heroes?” she smiles, eerily hostile, lowering her voice into a threat,

“They usually don’t live very long.”

The berserker draws his hammer at her implication. Brutely knocking over wares to wind it overhead as he stomps forward with heavy steps.

Are they for real? They’re seriously intent on starting a fight.

He’s going for the cowering boy in her arms.

Bolting up, she quickly draws her axe, catching the strike in a lock. But he’s gathering Vita to push against her. The awkward positioning and his towering stature make it difficult for her to retaliate. In her panic and cramp surroundings, she’s backhanded her weapon before her chest. The handle strangling before her decolletage like she’s doing a chess press. But the increasingly tremendous force is causing her weapon to inch downwards, bending her spine with it. As if a load bearing shelf slowly giving in. Closer and closer to spitting the groveling child between them in half.

That’s when Cyan’s wind blades slices in from the side. It makes the berserker retreat to barricade with a forearm. Manifesting a gold circular Magia, like a translucent gladiator’s shield, dispersing the attack into a harmless gust of iridescent swirls.

She straightens, turning her head towards Cyan when she hears him admonishing,

“Stop sticking your nose into everyone’s business!” his brows are furrowed. The crowd around bubbling away as though he’s diseased.

Cyan turns his attention to Wysera, pointing out noncommittedly

“The girl you’re cornering has already disappeared.” like he’s roundaboutly trying to convince them to stop. It instead, snaps her attention towards the empty spot where Blythe has formerly stood.

Clicking her tongue,

“Very well.” Wysera sighs. Perhaps Cyan shouldn’t have mentioned that because she’s now redirecting her wraith completely on them,

“Adam, read.” she commands the priest. He begins chanting a prayer from his bible. It’s hovering midair. Bobbing like an awkward float in the middle of a pool. Pages flipping through rampantly. Then, Lilith feels his Magia crawling in, it’s unsettling. Similar to the sensation of being stared at by a secret stalker. Before, like low tide, it finally retrenches and the pages stop. He’s found what he’s looking for.

The priest says mechanically,

“Lilith Renarvas, Bellator class, Vi alignment ten, Agilitas alignment eight, side affiliations negligible. In possession, one locator map number 1-3.” the page turns,

“Cyan Blight, Veneficius class, Serpientia alignment ten, Intelligentia ten, side affiliations, Agilitas six, Vi six. In possession, two locator maps, number 2-3, number 3-1.”

That’s gross. He’s assessing their combat strength. What a stalker! Those words make her defensive, tightening her grip around her weapon.

At the sound of that, Wysera smirks amusedly,

“Oh, so you two have both Satys's and Rufus’s maps.” folding her arms,

“Perfect...” her voice turns ruthless when she commands with a flick her head,

“Get the boy!”

Immediately, the thumps of the berserker’s running snap her eyes to him like a magnet. With wide gapes, out of the store smiting at Cyan. She thinks, he’s so heavy she can feel the ground beneath her vibrate to his steps.

Cyan’s managed to dodge, leaping backwards in the center of the road. So instead, the force tumbles the onlookers into each other like dominos.

But the berserker doesn’t relent, quickly finding his composure to ready a second. Cyan’s turning his head around, as though he’s analyzing the surroundings and clicking his tongue. Like he’s decided that it’s a bad idea to use his Magia here, so he just dodges again. Leaping backwards behind a passing camel wagon. The poor animal and merchant are caught in the berserker’s trajectory. Half of them mercilessly flattened, like dough moldings, beneath his hammer that was intended for Cyan. Before the hind legs and now exposed intestines can even collapse into a pile above the bloodied potato mash.

The grotesque scene sends the crowd scurrying for their lives. They’re serious.

Before her, the fabric store shop woman screams, wrapping her arms around her youngest son and pressing his head into her chest to cover his eyes.

A second smash horizontally completely obliterates whatever remains of the wagon, splintering the wooden sides and rolling produce on the ground. Revealing Cyan, who’s taking advantage of the thinning crowd and swiping his arm. Propelling two wind blades at the berserker but he dispels it again with his shield. Charging forward, completely disregarding and demolishing through the cart like a militarized tank.

Realizing it’s the same type of negation Magia Rufus uses, Lilith lunges towards him, winding her axe backwards with an outstretched arm.

At the noise, the berserker gives her a glance over his massive shoulders, before dismissing her to focus forward at Cyan.

Cyan leaps above the hammer encroaching his left, flipping overhead him to land Infront of her. Unleashing another barrage of wind blades but the berserker spins in time.

Again, dispelling them from doing any damage with his shield. Quickly, he raises his hammer overhead, smiting down. Cyan flings to a side, out of the way to give Lilith a clear line of sight to retaliate with her axe with a wide-angle arch in the berserker’s stagger.

He orients to clash weapons. The metals clinks sharply. It rattles through her arm, as though she’s just hit a reinforced steel pillar with all her might, but she’s racing the Berserker in Vita. Adding a hand to hold him in place as she shouts,

“Do the deadlier attack. He can’t use the shield right now!” Cyan’s already on it.

Flaring out his fingers in a clawed clutch and stabilizing his wrist with the other hand. Gathering Magia within his palm that sends wind, fruits and sand rolling, spiraling around him.

Cyan launches. A massive wind blade, taller than shop houses tearing through the road like a shark’s fin. Rapidly swimming in sand. But just before it’s able to reach. The priest from behind her fires a barrage of light spears. Forcing her to dive away from its trajectories. Twirling through the gaps of holy death. Skewering the buildings and ground around her like kebabs. Making smoking holes everywhere before they flake to light.

Because of that, the berserker’s able to summon his shield again, turning to catch Cyan’s attack. The sheer force of the wind this time, pushes him few inches before it explodes into raging gusts. It rustles the palm trees around them, violently flinging about like slinkies.

Yet the berserker isn’t even wasting a moment to flinch. Instead, he runs against the wind, shield first to bash dead on, into Cyan. Throwing him backwards down the street, through the display racks in front of shop stores as if a line of bowling pins.

She screams,

“Cyan!” bolting through the unstopping light spears she's bombarded with zigzags, to chase after him. Injecting herself between the berserker and Cyan to parry the hammer strike, like a baseball bat, for Cyan’s head with her axe.

She leaps aside from where he smites for her next with the following overhead. Inches before he flattens her too. Making a circular pancake into the sandstone road where she stood. Cracking from the radius like a badly chapped lip and uphauling clusters of miscellaneous wares around them. Making it shower with metal rain.

She retaliates with a swing of her own to his right when he’s straightening himself. He’s really slow, so her axe anchors in through the shoulder armor plates. Sinking like butter, but before she reaches the bone. He flexes his bulging biceps to keep her going deeper.

Instead, that action stops her from dodging the last stray light spear. Grazing past her upper arm. It’s hot like an iron brand. Sizzling her flesh beneath where it touches. Clenching her teeth at the sharp twinge crawling downwards, with her blood that begins streaming. She’s choosing to ignoring it as she needs to use both hands to yank her weapon out before the berserker pulverizes her with his.

He’s relentlessly winding for her chest. Throwing road side jewelry up that’s in the way. Scattering them like a security vault heist, glittering under the sun. She’s barely managed to retrieve her axe in time to receive him. Barricading the hit with the flat blade defensively like a shield. He runs forward, pushing her back, as though he intends to stampede them both like a buffalo. So, she adds a forearm on the handle to shove against him. Stopping his motion inches before she trips over Cyan now directly behind her. But she’s unable to overpower. It’s like she’s trying to keep a stubborn ajar door shut, so instead, she’s just holding him in place.

She glances over her shoulders, to see Cyan flinching. He’s climbing on his feet from the collapsed merchandise table. Readying another attack, but a golden emblem burst forth beneath him. Light chains darting out and rattling to shackle around his arms and ankles. Pulling him unceremoniously to the ground again on his knees.

It’s the priest’s spell, casted safely behind the berserker meat shield.

They’re far better coordinated and positioned.

Then Cyan flicks upwards,

“Lilith! Look out!” she follows him overhead. More light specks trickling in to form spears above them. Hovering like a singular storm cloud as the priest relentless chants away at his book.

It makes her realize what they’re planning.

The berserker is intent on keeping them here for the next barrage. She’s beginning to feel the blazing heat, as though chemical radiation.

They’re running out of options. Behind her, the rattling chains tells her Cyan’s struggling against it too,

“I can’t get free!” he clicks his tongue in irritation. Tossing louder.

Heartrate picking up.

Is this it? She focuses her Vita defensively, spreading it through her body as though a coat of paint to brace for the onslaughts.

The barrage falls, sudden like a river rushing through a broken dam. Taking a deep breath. She shoves at the berserker with everything she’s able to muster to blast him backwards. Umbrellaing her axe overhead them. Furling beneath the flat blades and hearing the spears hit with loud clinks and barraging to the ground. Anchoring like arrows.

At the opening, the berserker is winding his hammer all the way back, ready to bash her mid that’s now exposed. Knowing that she’ll need to tank this makes her instinctively clench her teeth and crush her eyes shut.

But she doesn’t feel the hit.

Infact, even the sensation of the berserker presence has suddenly lifted. Accompanied by sounds of whisking metals. Sharp like a knife’s slice above the ringing bombardment of the priest’s attack that she’s relegated to background noises to prevent her ears buzzing.

Then a shadow casts over her eyelids.

She opens them to a stranger’s back. The long pale blue hair braided at the ends tricks her into thinking it’s a woman for a second. Before her gaze focuses again to correct herself. It’s a man, in a long black robe draped over white harem pants. A white sash synching in his waist, just where the braids start. Nonchalantly flipping a scimitar in his hand as though he’s tossing a coin.

The ground is riddled with more fresh holes. Smoking from where they got impaled but the small radius around them remains completely untouched.

This stranger helped them.

Then she notices the adventurer’s ring his finger. It’s engraved with a squiggly line resembling a river.

He points the other scimitar onto the two assaulters,

“Hey noobies, no causing ruckuses when I’ve been put on guard duty. I don’t want to be demoted by the boss man again.”

She leans on a side, glancing past their savior. Hesitant, the priest and berserker retreated a few steps backwards. All of them have some sort of a sand dial hovering above a shoulder. It seems to follow when they move, except the timer isn’t running. The difference in Magia signature tells her it belongs to the adventurer.

At the sight of him, Wysera finally unfolds her arm and straightens from leaning against the fabric display rack where she’d stood the entire time. Bored and motionless as though she’s sitting through a mundane reality television.

She greets,

“Oh, look who’s decided to show up.” finally putting expressions on her face, she smiles,

“Isn’t it the old lover of mine.” strutting proudly towards him to drag a claw down his cheek,

“Certainly, you don’t think you’re all high and mighty now just because you passed the exam three years ago.”

He swats her hand away,

“Don’t flatter me with that term when you have so many. It becomes meaningless.” then retaliates her insult,

“But the key is, I passed, while you’re still trapped in this loop, Wysera.” it makes her flinch briefly, before she throws her head back,

“Hah!” she scoffs,

“Don’t forget whose favor you owe it to that you did.” and coos,

“Now drop the charade pretending that you’re above all this. Isn’t it because of me, you’re able to gather all nine locator maps.” her voice turns darker, quieter,

“And isn’t it also because of you,” into a whisper,

“That I failed the year I was supposed to pass.”

Lilith can feel she’s enraged. It’s different from the hot-headed fire tantrums she threw, this one’s bitter. An ice-cold wrath that’s coming undone that makes her Magia swell. She’s spreading her wings behind her. The sun, shining through it turns blood red like her eyes. She’s riled up. There must be unspeakable history between them, Lilith assumes, for a haughty woman like her to want to fight him herself.

But the adventurer’s calm,

“Bad idea if you ask me.” gesturing with his scimitar,

“New rule from the Elite Ten, they want to keep the trials fair this year. Too many treacherous, untrustworthy scums are passing and causing trouble for the guilds.” more Sandy Nile guild members are arriving.

Five in total, three of them, staff in hand are repairing the damages caused. Fixing the shops and disintegrating the slop of camel and wagon driver carcasses from the middle of the road. Dusting it away like ashes in the wind. Whereas the other two, keep a watchful eye on the trio.

“Also, they don’t really appreciate you dragging the commoners in this. You know the law. We have a reputation to upkeep.” he flicks his head towards the nooks and alleys where the crowd has relegated to. Some of them, curiously peaking their heads out the wall to watch the commotion at the sound of reinforcement.

One of the medic looking adventurer rushes within the fabric store, bending down to gather a green glow in his hands to heal the wounds of the injured shop keeper. She looks like she’s fainted, with the older son attempting to prop her up, whereas the younger embraces the adventurer’s legs and cries countless, please save my mother, on repeat.

Wysera clicks her tongue, eying her opponents and the sand dials that’s put on her comrades. She retracts her wings,

“Fall back.” she commands before all three of them disappears behind the alley.

At that, Lilith finally releases the tense breath she’s unknowingly held. Only now the goosebumps stitches in her skin to make her realize how narrowly they’ve avoided being pulverized like a chicken breast for cooking.

She’s trying to stop her heart from hammering heavily when the chains dispel and Cyan scurries to her side, clutching beneath his ribs,

“Hey you alright?” he asks, concern and flickering his eyes on her injury. Although, looking at the dirt smudged across his clothes and cheeks makes her think he’s in a worst shape. Especially after bracing that hit from the berserker head on, so she asks,

“I’m okay, will you be fine? Does it hurt anywhere?” and reaches a hand out. But he just backs away as though a startled animal,

“I’m fine!” from his movements, he definitely seems like he’s hiding something. It’s less fluid that he usually is. She’s determined to find out.

The scimitar adventurer turns around, injecting himself into the conversation and making her freeze to observe him instead,

“Apologies for the inconvenience.” his formality sounds forced.

She can tell he isn’t the polite type. But he bows regardless, with a hand over his bronzed chest. It’s almost entirely exposed with how lowly stringed the divot of his inner white tunic is. But she’s more drawn to the sparkly green emerald headdress he has over his forehead that dangles like a pendulum. It has the same design as the one she’s put on Cyan the first day they’ve got into Kusma. As she thought, it’s really pretty, so now she regretting at the back of her mind reserved for less important matters about not being more persistent to buy it.

He straightens, revealing the second peculiar thing about him. His eyes are heterochromatic. Grey on the left and green on the right, although the color is rather faint so at a glance it’s easy to miss.

He smiles frivolously,

“Oh, I know! Why don’t you two come to the headquarters with me.” pausing for a while as though he recognizes how suspicious he sounds, so he adds hurriedly,

“As compensation, I mean, for your troubles. We’re closely allied with the Desert Eagles, and Satys said some promising things about you. So, I’ve been watching your trials closely. My guildmates repaired the holes you two made in the colosseum!”

His airiness isn’t helping. She’s just raising an eyebrow whereas Cyan backs off as though he’s disgusted.

“Come on, let's go, Lilith. That’s a stalker if I’ve ever heard of one.” Cyan hurries, gesturing with his head towards their inn as the crowd around them slowly, like a baby doe taking its first steps, return to the road after everything’s been restored. The bravest ones are the shop keepers who are the first to rush to their stores. Examining for damages in their wares. Whereas others surround the adventurers to sing praises. They’re really well-liked by the locals. A few traders, seemingly knew the casualty stands beside the faintly bloodied hole where he’s been flattened, taking off their turbans to grieve. One of them is reporting the incident to an adventurer that’s scribbling onto a notepad with a quill.

She says, straightening her eyes again,

“Yeah...” before putting on her best polite voice to reject,

“Thanks for the save though-” before the adventurer snappily offers,

“We have a rose bath, racks of local clothes and indoor dining gardens in the palace. It’s usually closed to visitors, unless you have an adventurer’s ring or you’re affiliated with a guild member, you’ll never be able to get in.” snaring her interest in place that she couldn’t finish her sentence.

Her eyes glister,

“Wait really?” almost exclaiming,

“Really?” and turning to tug Cyan by the hems of his shirt,

“Come on, let’s go with him!” completely forgetting her previous sentiment.

He reminds her,

“Are you an idiot? Why are you so easily bribed?” he points,

“This guy is obviously shady! Will you get into a van just because it has free candy spray painted on it?”

She argues,

“But we can’t get into the palace otherwise, besides, he did just save our lives! And he knows Satys, and that’s the Sandy Nile guild hall! What could possibly happen!”

“Didn’t you hear their conversation? He knows Wysera, the woman who tried to steal our maps and kill us!”

The adventurer laughs awkwardly, stabbing his scimitars into a crisscross holsters behind him. Only the curved handles bandaged with blue tapes stick out.

“That’s all in the past, I’m a changed man-”

“I’m not talking to you!”

“Come on, Cyan!” she’s using both hands to stop him from walking away now. So instead, he’s just trudging on the spot, attempting to drag her with him,

“Please, please, please, please!” she pleads with her cutest voice, “I promise we’ll leave the minute something seems off!”

“You two do realize, I’m still here, right?” in fact the defeat in the adventurer’s voice makes her feel a little sorry for him.

After realizing that she won’t budge, Cyan stops trying. Dropping his head down with a laborious breath,

“Alright fine.” he drones, as if it draws great strength from him and he’s exhausted. Then he finds his composure and turns to the adventurer,

“So, what’s the catch? What do you want from us?”

He hums amusedly,

“Oh, you get straight to the point huh. I was expecting to treat you two to lunch first.” he’s so frivolous it makes even her feel slimy. Either that or it’s the blood that’s been flowing down her arm from the cut earlier.

The adventurer laughs, glancing around before admitting,

“We’ll talk about it in the guild hall.”