(Zhenya Pov)

“Ellie sure is taking her sweet time.” Waiting in the castle’s shade, it’s been around two incursions since our bubbly alchemist disappeared into the crowd. So an hour, give or take. The first time was nothing major. Ended up being nothing but a couple dumb punks trying to make a name for themselves.

Comparatively, the second disturbance was nerve rending. Rouge knights on a scouting run, hidden at a distance, prodding for vulnerabilities. There was no proof these guys were rebels. But after chasing us down, they had to know there were at least two witches here. Never mind, they were also daughters of a current council member. Making them as lucrative a target as Fredrica.

“Want to go in?” I’m not an impatient gal, but the guard's constant staring was starting to unnerve me. After word spread about scouts poking around the perimeter, they were on high alert. And despite delivering Ellie and Junia here, they didn’t trust us.

Us being Su and me. For lack of a better word, each guard had reservations about having a ‘half-blood’ on the premises. Even behind their helmets, I can feel every emotion ranging from weary to silent scorn.

But I was slim pickings compared to the visible fear the pale zombie invoked. A drowned, guardians, assassins, and all-around horror show for anyone outside the Archipelagos in broad daylight.

And the alchemist trio comes riding in our questionable company. No wonder...

“I’ll go.” Rudi offered to go himself. Really, he was the only option.

Watching him disappear into those hallowed halls, there was nothing but the soft murmurs of officials and scribes for a couple of minutes. “Anyone craving fish for lunc-” A flash storm stopped me in my tracks. First, an explosion caught my attention, turning to see a water spout demolish an entire floor of the castle. Followed by a monsoon demanding immediate action.

The resulting fallout came in the form of a sudden downpour as myriad raindrops rained from the sky. Each striking like an arrow whipped by hurricanes.

Chaos reigned as man, woman, child, regardless of social standing, clamored for cover. A sentiment shared by our equine companion. Poor girl was only starting to calm down from the chase. Bucking wildly, tearing ruts through the garden, she dragged us along in the wagon, desperately searching for sanctuary.

“This way!” Su had the initiative. Diving from the carriage onto the horse, wrapping her arms around the base of its neck and tugging. Her slender arms were steel reins forcing the beast towards the council building’s entrance.

With a resounding hail of wood splinters, we broke through. The front lobby was waterlogged, rapids flushed towards the newly created hole. The horse, along with Su, was riddled with pin-prick wounds. “Here, drink.” Busting open one of our supply crates, I fed them healing potions.

“What? It’s not working. I’m sure Rudi made these the other day.” They couldn’t have spoiled yet.

“No. They’re healing.” Junia motioned me to observe longer. The wounds were healing but at a lusciously slow rate compared to usual. Still faster than if we let them heal naturally. “Whoever attacked is not only a master at water magic but also alchemy.” Focusing, my senses were overwhelmed by a raging storm of water-elemented magic. Whoever masterminded this set off a load of crystals indiscriminately.

“Any formula used to counteract healing potions are heavily regulated these days. Even selling knowledge of it is punishable by death.” Grim was the only way to describe our situation. It goes to reason anyone drenched was affected. Thankfully, the rain didn’t hit our pale assassin anywhere vital, although blood loss will be an issue.

“Then it’s settled. Su, you stay here and guard the wagon. There should be bandages and salves to patch up you and the horse. Junia, you’re with me.” The two of us got out unscathed, thanks to the alchemist duo reinforcing the canopy before we left. Don’t want anything happening to our precious cargo now.

Climbing up stairs of cascading water, we reached ground zero, the floor where the water crystal bomb initially laid waste. Made a mere skeleton of its former self, with most of the non-reinforced walls laying in ruin. A regiment of guards was positioned outside the council chamber, already in the process of breaching.

The battalion paid us little mind the second they saw Junia’s mug, motioning for us to join if we weren’t going to leave. Getting ready, two muscular guardsmen threw themselves against the doors, fighting against the deluge of water rushing out. Parting the waves, we pushed inwards, securing the area.

Front and center was the mastermind behind this assault. A man sporting knee-length ashen hair bundled together at the tip, letting it bob up and down as he extolled his grand speech. “-Ah. The mooks have arrived.” Bottles and bags clinked at the side of his murky form-fitting jade robes. “I was dearly hoping to address the entire Council, but alas. The representatives for commerce, foreign affairs, and industry will do.”

Head down, Junia and I stuck close to the walls, skulking around the encirclement. Trying not to garner attention, as the jester has done with everyone else.

Tapping against white crimson splattered walls reminiscent of Junia’s. My mind immediately jumped to Rudi as the only person who could have done something like this. There were so many layers that I could barely make out silhouettes. Really the distinct shape of Ellie’s cap ascertained me it was them.

But this brief relief did nothing to alleviate my concern. To address the long-arm bear in the room, copious amounts of blood painted this area of the room, thickest right where the white box settled. Yet, there was no corpse.

With bated breath, Junia and I waited for the walls to come down. Revealing three sharply dressed men in various stages of disheveled. And Ellie slumped over, intensely focused on something. Each sporting scratches here and there though otherwise okay. But my heart sank as Ellie moved out of the way, revealing a bloodied Rudi.

The boy was stable due to the pink witch’s first aid, but still. Judging from the wounds, he must have protected the others from the initial blast. Or maybe he fought the culprit before being overwhelmed? Whatever the case was, he put up this barrier before passing out.

Although, that still doesn’t explain the amount of blood present. There was probably enough here to fill three Rudi’s. But these questions are all secondary to getting the hell outta here.

“Ah, finally! The guests of honor have returned.” Too late. The man had been keeping them in the corner of his eye this entire time. Unsheathing my sword, I got in between them and him. With Junia and the guards here, we can probably fend him off.

Isolated, surrounded on all sides by enemies ready to execute him, the fool’s smile never faltered. Confidence was crucial to his survival. He held the cards. All he needed to do was remind us.

“Now, now. There is no need for hostilities. I am only a messenger, after all. Killing one would be in poor sport.” Ever the jester, he sauntered around his round table stage.

“Hm, hm hmmm.” Even surrounded by trained guards, the rebel radiated confidence, jovially tapping his chin, amused. He smelt hesitance and reveled in it.

An explosion of that magnitude could only have been premeditated. Planted within the council chambers beforehand, so what other traps could he have planted?

“While I so do enjoy the attention. A job’s a job, no matter how much you love it. Let’s see... Yes. Call me Deazora. For all you joining us now, I have come bearing a message from our glorious leader.”

For all his fripperies, Deazora never let the situation simmer beyond his control. Like any good actor, he had a knack for reading his audience. All it took was for someone to take the first step, and the rest would follow.

But now? None dared. Even the boldest knew the value of information. My guess this is the first they’ve ever heard of or from this shadowy leader masterminding the rebellion. If they could glean anything from this message, a hint of his identity or even where to start looking. It would be worth allowing the jester to live for a while longer.

With nothing more than a few empty gestures, Deazora took control of the stage once again.

“Ahem. Gentlemen. We, of the Soldier's Folly, formally denounce the Council for their sins- Their blatant slaughter of civilians during the great war. We denounce the Burning of Komig. The displacement of the Plain’s Nomads-”

Each denouncement echoed. I wasn’t sure what each entailed, but none sounded like something you could write off as wartime mania. Actually, Deazora’s voice is pretty loud, isn’t it? Unnaturally so.

“Huh, so that was his game plan.” A young dandy of a council member with oak brown hair, spoke up. Dressed smartly, if not a little auspiciously, in a two-piece suit complete tail and pocket watch. Though presentable, he by no means looked like a noble.

The suit was tailor-made and worn in a streamlined manner. Allowing the man to move rather fluidly.

“Huh?” It felt like he was addressing me rather than the group. Doesn’t he notice my hair color?

“Deazora set up one more trap along with the water crystals.” He replied, looking me right in the eyes. “Speakers.” ...What? Seeing my gormless stare, he gave a wry smile and re-explained. “Something that’ll make his voice louder. Enough that most of the capital will hear him.”

Oh, that’s bad. I don’t know if these accusations hold water. But even if they are false, it’s enough for people to start doubting the government. If not their moral integrity, then their stability. The fallout from the war, depending on the A.A for aid, the rebellion, and now Deazora casually holding their seat of authority hostage.

That was four strikes. Each one painting a very grim picture of the Dutchy.

“No more will we stand idly by while the Dutchy languishes in a state of limbo. We will finish this war that started so long ago with sticks and stones before they can build the machines of devastation they once toyed with.

Look to the blood plains! Once verdant and green, the ancestral homeland of the proud beast folk. Reduced to barren wastes where blood has colored the stone forever red.”

“Deazora certainly has a way with words.” How can this dandy be so okay with all this? But the guards have had enough. No amount of information was worth the Dutchy’s name being pulled through the mud.

As Spears descended upon him, all the fool uttered was. “Well, that’s my cue.” A pillar of water exploded from underneath the table. Smashing a hole through it while also engulfing Deazora. I felt a pulse of magic as spears stabbed fruitlessly into it. Once the water subsided, he was gone.

When all was said and done, an air of defeat lingered. The rebels had shown they possessed the power to hold the council chambers hostage for a time.

While his peers were quick to organize a cleaning crew. And what I suspect to be a confidential inquiry as to how all this happened. The young dandy approached Junia, Ellie, and I, just having hoisted Rudi onto the table to properly assess his condition.

“You’re a strange one, aren’t you?” I didn’t reply. Too busy making sure Rudi isn’t dead. “Hmm, I see. Well. When you find the time I’d like to discuss some matters.” Proceeding briskly out the door, he handed me a card.

“Oh? Zhenya, what does it say?” Junia asked without turning her head, followed by Ellie grunting in support. Those two really are sisters.

“I would love to. But unfortunately, I can’t read.” With a sheepish grin, Junia turned towards me and plucked the card out of my hands.

For once, the purple alchemist’s eyes widen in shock. “Zenni, this is from the councilmen of commerce. He wants to meet us. Even letting us choose the meeting place. But we’ll have take that up with his secretary first.”

“What’s his name anyways,” I asked, still unsure about all this. All I know about this guy is he has good ears and is good with money, hopefully.

“He’s Ketleho, Head of the Vardan trading company and the Dutchy’s representative of commerce.” Sounds like a big name, but. “What does this last part mean?”

I thought he was a council member, but now he’s a representative? “Ah, that means he represents the best interests of all merchants, both within and outside the Dutchy. He’s still considered a member but more akin to a foreign envoy or diplomat. Holding power but not privy to all the inner workings. But it is still befitting a man heading the world's largest trading guild, dubbed the most successful merchant this era, and the man who minted Gp as a currency.