Chapter 320: ARC 6-Winter War-14

“What the—”

“Get it—”

“Fuck—”

I catch a brief glimpse of a small, orange blur tearing through the hunters gathered in the cramped hall, the tight confines doing them no favors, before I ascend to the ground floor. The room is still empty. I suppose all the fighters in the building are currently wrestling with Bell and the rest have evacuated or run for help. There is quite a crowd outside, judging from the rapid heartbeats, murmured conversation, and shuffling footsteps.

Kierra ascends from the bottom floor as I’m retrieving Howie from behind the bar. She closes her eyes and cocks her head slightly. “I know you wish to limit casualties but I do not think the group outside will appreciate your efforts.”

“Without a doubt.” I doubt everyone outside is involved in this plot to kidnap Howie but I’ve made quite a ruckus and caused some damage. Whether it’s other guilds or the city guard out there, they’re going to want to detain me so someone who’s going to hate their job in the morning can straighten everything out.

Unfortunately, I cannot allow that to happen under any circumstances. There is a method to escape any amount of trouble that nobles have employed for generations. This method has two crucial elements. The first is to be too annoying to confront.

Take the Masons, formerly known as the Grimoires. They are a family of blackmailers, thieves, spies, murderers, and sexual deviants. Have been for generations. Arrogant bastards who trampled on those beneath them and showed little, if any, respect to their supposed superiors.

Despite that, they were wealthy and influential. People treated them with respect. They were welcomed in every social circle with open arms. Their patriarch was a royal adviser, for saints’ sake. All because it would have been too much of a hassle to deal with them.

The second key to avoiding any amount of trouble is an excuse. It doesn’t matter if it’s proper justification or blatant deception, those in charge need something to blame their lack of response on.

No, no, everyone! You’re misunderstanding. It’s not that we didn’t detain the crazy woman and her wife because we didn’t want to suffer heavy losses for no profit. It’s the guilds who are in the wrong! They kidnapped an innocent man, threatening his life if he didn’t give up his trade secrets and work for them like a slave. Evil bastards. Who would be able to hold themselves back from giving them a good thrashing? Could anyone say they wouldn’t do the same?

Something like that. A few coins in the right hands and/or an exchange of favors can smoothen things further. Saints, enough of them and people will start inventing your excuses for you.

However, for this method to work, I cannot be detained, not even by my own will. They cannot think for a single moment that they can overpower us. If they do, it’ll cost significantly more in lives to disabuse them of that notion later.

In that sense, what we’re about to do is for their own good.

“We’re going to tear through them,” I tell Kierra as I call on my mana. The worst thing I can imagine from that group is a concentrated magical effort to trap us inside this building, followed by a magical bombardment.

I may be beyond human comprehension but there’s a limit to this form’s endurance. The same to Kierra’s pure affinity. She is strong and her regeneration is stronger, but both are limited to her coefficient, which will eventually run out.

However, as long we’re in motion, I can’t imagine anything that can stop us. Saints, we’re a caster’s worst nightmare. Intelligent enemies fast enough to reach them before they can form complicated spells, strong enough to take them out in one blow, and sturdy enough to survive what should be lethal attacks.

As long as we reach them, they won’t be able to stop us and I’m not concerned about them launching spells at our backs. Both of us can outrun a horse and distance variables eat up a caster’s mana like nothing else.

Fire is still my best element and by far the best for the job. Nothing grabs attention and shatters defenses quite like it. I can also use the wind affinity to empower it, a more efficient alternative to pumping a huge coefficient into a basic spell.

For the fire spell, I need high intensity but short duration. A big, hot spark. Strong distance variable. No fancy dimension variables, I don’t need to throw twisting serpents or wolves or whatever other nonsense master casters do to show off.

The wind affinity spell is far more complicated. I’m slightly ashamed that I know some of the variables without knowing them. Geneva is…an interesting teacher. She openly admits she is a bit out of her comfort zone without being able to manipulate my mind and I outright refuse to let her into my mind like she does with the servants. That means we have to handle my instruction the old-fashioned way.

Apparently, the air we breathe isn’t one thing, but a bunch of things mixed together. While the wind affinity can move the air as a whole, it can also separate the whole into those smaller parts and manipulate them.

As a fire caster, I know fire needs air. I’ve recently learned that different parts of air are better for fire than others, just like some foods are better for people than others. The details escape me but Geneva taught me a set of variables for air that, in her words, “makes fire hotter” and another set that “makes a bigger boom”.

The sound of claws scrabbling on stone makes me look over my shoulder as Bell pulls herself over the edge of the hole in the floor. Her small body is covered in scratches that heal as I watch. Good work. How much mana do you have left?

“Coo~” [I have a little over sixty percent of my coefficient left.]

So accurate?

[Much experience, Master Lou.]

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Huh. Bell is ready. Kierra is crouched, fingertips lightly touching the floor and eyes eager. All up to me.

“You in the building!” a voice shouts as I’m putting the last touches on my spell. “I am Captain Walter of Quest’s city guard. With the authority granted to me by the lord of this land, I order you to surrender so that your crimes may be judged by the crown’s law. If you resist, we will use force to subdue you.”

Oh, no family name. This is going to be easier than I thought. I take a deep breath before shouting back, “I am Lady Lourianne Tome. As you should know, a noble may only be detained by another noble of higher status or with a note of intention from the territory’s lord.”

As if the elites of the kingdom would allow themselves to be judged by any random person in uniform. “I will not be surrendering myself. Any action taken to detain me will be seen as an unprovoked assault. I suggest you and your allies move aside.”

“…that may normally be the case but exceptions are made for nobles caught in the midst of a crime.”

“Your fucking title won’t save you!” someone else shouts.

“Crime? What crime? I came to this guild chasing down two kidnappers who had snatched my friend, of which has already been reported to the guard. Once I found him in this building’s basements, the people here attacked me. Any damage I’ve inflicted was in self-defense. That I will swear to under interrogation.”

Technically, this is all true and why I went out of my way to deliver warnings. I have given the lord, and the extension of his will outside, an out. A good enough excuse to turn a blind eye, at least until they can get a better understanding of the situation. And if I know this kingdom as well as I think…

“…I understand, Lady Tome. The lord will want to question you regarding tonight’s events as soon as possible.”

“What? You cowards—”

“The city guard did receive a report about a possible kidnapping. If the Torchbearers are responsible, then this is no rampaging caster. The lord will need to review the situation. In the meantime, my duty is to de-escalate the situation. I suggest everyone return home and we will settle this in the morning.”

“You can go home,” the second voice shouts. “We’re going to teach this woman what it means to pick a fight with the guilds!” A war cry follows his words. “Oi! Time or whatever your name is. Get your ass out here or we’ll drag you out!”

“Violence will not be—”

“Ah, shut it! You city pansies were never going to do anything. The guilds will do the work, as usual.”

There is a moment of silence. Then the captain barks out something and there are several heavy footsteps as the city guard makes a quick retreat. Smart man. Or perhaps experienced? It’s one thing to confront a drunk caster on a rampage. It’s a whole other thing to confront a scheming noble with enough power to bravely charge into a guild building.

Thank the saints. The city guard not being caught in the crossfire will make this easier to sweep under the rug.

“I’ll count to three! If you’re not out by then, don’t blame us!”

I move in front of the hole in the face of the building, dropping a film to magnify my vision. I’m still shrouded in darkness but I can see them clearly. There are dozens of hunters out there. Martial fighters in the front, wearing a mix of light armor, full plate, and casual clothes that says they’d been caught unprepared by the sudden violence. Swords, spears, and shields are brandished.

“One!”

Behind them are the casters, their glowing eyes saying they are ready to throw magic at the drop of a hat. Off to the side are more casters along with a few archers. Support and damage? Or perhaps those on the side are simply hoping they won’t be noticed with the large group to take our attention. Bell, take them out. “Kii!”

My wife tenses, smiling wildly as my imp dashes through the side wall, forming a small hole for her escape.

“Three!”

I throw my spell, grimacing as a full hundred units of mana is drained from me. Twenty units of fire and eighty units of fuel. They fly toward the crowd, one brilliant orange-yellow stream of flame followed by a large, invisible stream of air.

“Fire caster!” the stranger shouts and defenses are immediately raised. Shields of water and earth appear in front of the martial fighters. I tighten my hold on Howie, readying myself to run.

My spells collide in front of the hunters.

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