"Th... they’re gone?"
Fyar looked around, his eyes wide. The main square was deathly silent.
The screaming had stopped. The air was thick and heavy.
Only the bodies of the City Guards, cooling on the stones, and the smoldering wreckage of the stalls remained.
Thin, acrid smoke still billowed from the embers, stinging his eyes. He was alone with his injured comrades.
He collapsed to the ground. His legs, shaking violently from the exertion and the sudden release of tension, could no longer support his weight. His breathing was ragged,
"Fyar!"
Illya ran towards him, stumbling over the debris.
What happened?! They just disappeared! Did someone save us? A Guardian? A hero?
Fyar looked around again, scanning the dark rooftops, the empty alleys.
There’s nothing. There’s no one. What the fuck?
What is this? What now?! Damn it, I’m going to go crazy if I keep getting hit by things this far outside of my expectations.
Fyar forced his breathing to slow, trying to calm his racing heart.
No. At least... at least we’re safe. For now. For now, Fyar muttered inwardly.
Illya immediately dropped to her knees and hugged Fyar tightly. Her own body was trembling.
"Dumb! Dumbt! You’re an dumb fyar! Dumbb!" Illya shouted, her voice muffled in Fyar’s shoulder.
Fyar slowly raised his trembling hand and returned the hug.
"I guess... we’re not getting separated after all. Heh?" he whispered.
"Are you all alright?!"
Cyhas ran towards them from behind a ruined kiosk. The girl wore a simple white dress, now dirty with dust and soot from the explosions. A necklace with a small, black crystal orb hung around her neck. Behind her, Eutas limped as fast as he could towards Zaefal, carrying several small bottles.
Cyhas looked at Fyar and Illya, clutching each other on the ground. "You two? No... Oh gods..."
She handed two glass potion bottles to Illya. The liquid inside glowed a faint red.
"This is a healing potion. Please, drink it. It can heal some wounds and refill your mana!"
Fyar looked up at Cyhas. "Thank you."
"No no no, You saved me again, Fyar," Cyhas said, her eyes still wet with tears.
Illya released her hug and turned to Cyhas. "Thank you for the potion, Miss... Miss Cyhas?"
Cyhas nodded. She then looked over to where Rasie was still lying unconscious near the wall.
"I’ll heal her. Even though I’m low-level, this should help a little."
Cyhas immediately ran towards Rasie.
On the other side of the square, Zaefal drank the entire potion from Eutas in one gulp. His deathly pale face began to regain some color. He used his broken sword as a cane to push himself to his feet.
"Thank you, Mister Eutas," Zaefal said, his voice hoarse.
Eutas smiled in relief. "We are the ones who should be thanking you, Mister...?"
"Zaefal."
"Thank you, Mister Zaefal, for saving us."
What happened? They both just disappeared. Help? No... If it was help, someone should have appeared right after they vanished.. Zaefal muttered to himself
Fyar looked at Zaefal and shook his head slowly. He gave a small gesture, indicating the situation was not safe. Zaefal caught the signal and nodded. He understood.
I knew Fyar was thinking the same thing, Zaefal thought.
Fyar slowly drank his potion. The liquid was thick and tasted faintly of herbs. Instantly, he felt his body grow slightly lighter. The drained, hollow feeling of his energy was partially refilled. Beside him, Illya also looked a little fresher.
Zaefal and Eutas walked over to Fyar.
"You saved us again, Fyar. I... I don’t know how I can ever repay you this time," Eutas said.
Fyar smiled gently at Eutas. "It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re both okay."
Cyhas, now helping a groggy Rasie to sit up, rejoined them.
"Sh-she’s just unconscious," Cyhas said. Slowly, she lowered Rasie’s body to the ground, leaning her against the rubble.
"Fyar," Zaefal said. He stared at Fyar with a cold, serious gaze.
Ah. He’s probably angry because of my stupid decision earlier, Fyar thought.
Fyar lowered his head. "I’m sorr—"
"No. Don’t apologize." Zaefal cut him off. "You were truly amazing."
He placed his hands on both of Fyar’s shoulders.
"Sorry for calling you an idiot earlier." Zaefal paused. "If I were in your position... I might have done the same thing. You did something reckless, but ironically, it was the most logical thing you could do."
Fyar smiled and nodded.
"We can’t celebrate yet. What’s happening here is very strange," Zaefal said. He narrowed his eyes.
"Whitening is involved in this."
"Whitening?!" Fyar said.
Crazy. This is crazy. Holly shit I have no idea what’s happening now. That shit ass organization. The organization that got me accused of Kail’s murder. And now they’re here?! Fyar thought.
Illya, Eutas, and Cyhas looked equally shocked.
"H-how do you know that, Z-Zaefal?" Illya asked. Her face went tense again.
"I ran into them when I went to Fyar’s inn earlier," Zaefal said. "They were the ones who made the monsters appear. They were the ones who killed the City Guards."
Zaefal clenched his fists.
"Whitening is also likely responsible for the lack of Guardians in the city or help from the Kingdom. They probably killed the people at the Association, cutting off communication from the Kingdom."
"And..." Zaefal regulated his breathing. "And as you know, those two earlier were 000 members."
"000 is working with Whitening. To destroy the city. And..."
Zaefal then looked at Eutas and Cyhas.
"To target you Mr. Eutas.."
"Why are they targeting you?"
Eutas flinched slightly. He fell silent.
Fyar turned to Cyhas.
Cyhas shook her head hard, her hands clasped in front of her chest. "I don’t know! Really!"
"Can you explain, Mister Eutas?" Zaefal asked. His gaze was sharp.
Eutas avoided Zaefal’s stare.
The 000 organization. Willing to hire Whitening and destroy an entire city just to kidnap her. What is he hiding? Who is she? Zaefal thought to himself
After a few seconds of silence, Eutas sighed. "Alright."
"Father?" Cyhas asked, confused.
"Cyhas is—"
WOSSHH!
A deafening, high-pitched magical sound cut off Eutas’s words.
Suddenly, from four points in the distant corners of the city, pillars of blood-red light shot straight into the night sky.
"Wh-what is that?" Fyar stared upward in confusion.
The pillars arched at the peak of the sky, connecting with each other. In seconds, a giant energy net formed. The net hardened, forming a translucent shield dome that covered the entire city.
The starry night sky was suddenly replaced by a dim, glowing, blood-red ceiling.
"This shield... it’s surrounding the city?" Illya stared in horror. Her hand gripped Fyar’s arm tightly. "Wh-what is that?"
The temperature in the square dropped several degrees. The wind stopped completely.
The remaining fires on the kiosk embers died out instantly, as if smothered by a sudden, unnatural change in pressure.
There was no sound from the rest of the city.
No footsteps,
In that instant,
everything felt empty and hollow.
Fyar stared at the red dome. Its light structure was stable, not flickering, and showed no sign of disappearing. He took a slow breath. The situation was not improving.
All exit routes from the city were now sealed.
In that moment, everyone there realized something terrible.
They were trapped.
I knew something was wrong! What is this?!, Don’t tell me they have another agenda besides kidnapping Cyhas? Zaefal bit his lip, staring at the glowing ceiling.
Eutas’s pupils shrank to the size of a needle. Cold sweat poured down his neck. His hands trembled violently.
"A r-ritual..." he whispered in horror.
"A ritual?" Zaefal asked. He snapped his gaze back to Eutas. "You know something?!"
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A slow, mocking clapping sound came from above them.
Slowly, a brown-haired man wearing an all-black cloak descended from the sky. He landed lightly in the center of the square, as if unaffected by gravity.
"Oh my. Oh my. There are still adventurers alive!," the man said.
"Coooool"
Fyar, Illya, Cyhas, and Eutas were instantly shocked. But the thing that made them truly horrified was what he was carrying in his right hand.
Zaefal’s pupils shrank.
Impossible. Impossible. No. No.
Oh no. I failed. Oh no. This is worse.
This... no. That must be the trigger.
"Ehh? Why the long faces? So tense!" The man chuckled. "Ah? Are you shocked by what’s in my hand? Or shocked by my handsomeness and my intelligence?!"
"Ahahaha!" The man laughed loudly, the sound echoing unnaturally in the dead-silent square.
After his laughter faded, the man raised his hand high.
In his right hand, he held a severed man’s head. A head with white hair and two blood-red horns on its forehead.
It was the head of the Dragon General.
"Oh no, no!" The man laughed. "Don’t be shocked, just yet!"
"First, allow me to introduce myself."
The man bowed slightly, like an actor on a stage.
"Allow me."
"My name is Zalvarich."
"Or perhaps you’ve heard my other name."
He smiled.
"00."
.