Looking down at a particular building from high above, Harita glanced up, at the Legend above him like an angel of death. His thoughts began to slow as he beheld the titanic figure.
Chaos reigned.
Several groups and factions assaulted the Legend. The Council of Manas, Knight's Order, and the godforsaken city's own hired guards and several goodwill mercenaries worked together to keep the beast away from the most populated areas—relocating it to the slums with astounding efficiency, where the damage was inconsequential.
It was a shame; the power he could have gained from helping all those people — therefore fulfilling his Oath — would have been rejuvenating. It wouldn't make up for the soul fragment that he lost, but it would still be a great boon. He needed it now more than ever.
Laying in the rich shadow of the Legend, Harita enhancer his eyes and looked onwards, past the darkness and into a particular alley. Several low-ranking nobles and rich entrepreneurs moved inside and an unsuspecting warehouse. He didn't know all of them, of course. Their lavish clothing said it all.
Children, women, aged men and a variety of different races entered in an orderly fashion, unbefitting of the boiling chaos outside. Some were prioritized more than others, skipping ahead of the others, and mocked them all for ridiculing them. After a short while, guards and hired mercenaries would step in and keep the fighting isolated, making the line flow again.
Harita eyed the entrance to said warehouse skeptically. 'That's a lot of people. How are they keeping them all?'
Though most of the evacuees' identities were lost on him, Harita did know some, and they were all affiliated with Mercuri, Han Li, and Krafa in some way. Though not directly. The main families most likely took a different route, or a different warehouse entirely.
Some may have even built their own safe houses and solitary bunkers. In that case, their chances of meeting anybody truly important was all but moot.
'Then again…' Sliding on the slanted rooftop, Harita stopped by a chimney, then rested his back on the ashen bricks.
"They're evacuating important personnel to an underground bunker. The rich and the talented. I estimate about a hundred — maybe two — people hiding down there.
"What's the plan?"
Bian nodded, squinting at the faraway group of people, then closed her eyes. After a moment, she opened them again, and said:
"We sneak in. It seems like, judging from the length of the line, that most of the necessary personnel have gone down already.
"Swift and silent. That's the plan."
"Alright." Harita nodded, then looked away, and jumped off the three-story building. Fortifying his feet, he landed with a thud, and rushed forward, the shadow of a Legend masking his presence. A second later, Bian followed, then overtook him.
Gale-force winds rushed behind her, cutting the air in front, making the short trip relatively easier.
After a short minute, the two approached the towering warehouse. Glancing at an open window, Bian glanced at Harita, and he nodded.
She stopped suddenly, putting her hand together with her palms out. Harita continued, then placed a foot on her open palms, and flew straight up, gale-force winds trailing behind him, maneuvering accurately to the open window and dipping inside. The winds softened his landing.
But didn't muffle the sound. Immediately, Harita felt two gazes upon him, one in front and the other far left. Summoning his watersteel dagger, he dodged a hefty blow from a thick metal club and lunged towards his assailant, slicing the man's throat with ease.
Then, he threw his gaze far left and began a mad dash, then stopped. The man was already dead, blood pooling from his punctured heart. His eyes gradually lost color, turbid. Hiding the man's body behind a wooden crate, Bian emerged as Harita did the same.
Both of them were experienced in this. She threw a whistle to him. "It's engraved with the Han Li crest, something uncommon with mercenary folks. These guys were probably trained muscle, though not their strongest. Be careful, they're far trickier than this. We got lucky."
Nodding, Harita moved behind a pillar and took a peek below. They were on an overhanging floor, with metal railings welded on the edges. It overlooked the floor below with clarity, making for easy spying.
Squinting, he saw the line of nobles and entrepreneurs enter a guarded room. Some identification was needed to go in. It was too far away to tell the specifics. Beside them, another less guarded door opened. Out came two mercenaries with the seal of Han Li, the same one on the whistle Bian had given.
"You should go." He said, handing the engraved whistle. "You know these people more. I don't have the experience and know-how here."
Eyeing the whistle like it was the most disgusting thing in the world, Bian shook her head. "No. You're stronger and better at stealth. I have better mobility, sure, but you can make quick work of these men if you so chose, though that would alert the rest and jeopardize the operation.
"Besides, I'm not exactly on the most amicable terms with the Han Li—though I do know someone. Hanami. Blue hair, blue eyes. Look out for him and his stupid ear piercing. Can't miss it.
"Tell him Black Sparrow sent you."
Harita raised a brow. "Black Sparrow… really?" He asked musingly.
"Shut up."
Shrugging, he sighed and stowed the whistle, and crouched down. It was times like these that Harita wished he could use his concealment spell during daytime. For now, basic espionage and stealth tactics would suffice.
Approaching the ladder while crouched, Harita crawled, hushed. When the coast was clear, he slid down the ladder, holding each side, and landed on his heels.
"Who the hell are you?"
There was a man beside him. Alarm bells ringing in his ears, Harita turned sideways with an amicable smile. He said with pep:
"Oh, sorry. I'm new here." He scratched the back of his head. "Just chatting with my pals up stairs. They ignored me, the poor chaps; belligerent as always."
The guard, bearing the crest of Han Li on his chest plate, turned around, shooting him a look. "You know Vin and Kelsier doesn't like idle chatter. They've been through a lot."
He walked to the guard's quarters.
'Phew, it seems he bought it.' Sighing inwardly, Harita followed the man. He kept the façade. "So… how have you been? Rough skies lately."
With a cocked brow, the guard glanced at him. "Yes, it does seem that way. Some idiot summoned a titanic monster, and another idiot lacerated its neck without finishing it off. I swear, if not for me, this place would have long collapsed!"
He was offended at the recent chaos and seemed to be full of himself. Harita just kept his smile, cold and unreal. Later, they arrived at the guarded door beside the bustling line.
The guard passed without problem, and Harita followed, holding up the engraved whistle, and thanked the gods.
'…Well, that's step one down, at least.'
◇◆◇◆◇
'Bastard actually did it.'
Bian watched as Harita entered the guard's quarters and sighed. She rested her back on a support pillar, then exhaled deeply. Summoning gale-force winds to wrap around her body, she made her way around the metal platform, opposite the way Harita went, and arrived with swift steps at the very edge of it. Once there, she summoned the winds again and kneeled. A whisper followed:
"Shifting Winds: Ascend."
Wrapping gale-force winds around her thin frame, Bian jumped up, grabbed a steel beam, and heaved herself over, standing atop the entire crowd of evacuees. Hushed, she said:
"Now, I doubt that flimsy disguise will last much long. Got to create a distraction." Summoning her silver rapier, she made a stance, then pointed its tip at the crowd below.
Willing the gale-force winds to compress and envelop her rapier's edge, Bian lashed out, piercing the air, as well as the throat of a noble waiting in the line. Her cold, luminous black eyes were as sharp and deadly as they always were.
Chaos prevailed.
"Kyaaa!"
"Huh—Nari?! Hang in there!"
"A medic! A healer! A Cleric! Somebody do something!"
"H—hey, kid, aren't you a devout? Go ahead, heal her!"
"Quick, she's bleeding out!"
"Oh, god. The guy beside her is bleeding as well. His heart has been punctured…"
"What are you doing?! Heal her!"
"M—mother…"
"Nari? Nari! Hang in there, please… hang in there."
"I can't… I can't heal her. I'm not a Cleric, at least not yet. Please don—don't look at me like that. Please, I beg of you. Don't look at me like that!"
"Nari… please…"
"I… I really can't. I'm sorry. But it's all your fault!"
"Leave her. She's just an Insig, anyways."
"You're blaming this on us?! You're the failure!"
"M—me, a failure? Preposterous! I'll have you know I—"
"NARI, WAKE UP…!! I BEG YOU. PLEASE!"
"Look what you've done."
"I didn't do anything!"
"That's the problem!"
As the line below boiled with confusion and misplaced anger, Bian relished the situation by piercing the air three more times, accurately piercing the throat of five more unsuspecting nobles. It was by that time that the guards below finally found her, atop the highest steel beam, higher than everybody else. She felt just a little good about that.
Lowering her center of mass, she assumed her stance again. This time, she aimed it at the rapidly approaching guards and let her rapier whistle, only for her bullets to dissipate just before they hit.
Squinting her eyes, she found a fellow Stormcaster in their midst of five. She had countered Bian's spell, though not without difficulty.
The Stormcaster waved an Invoker—an unadorned wooden wand. Winds whirled around her, and a breeze whipped her face gently. A second later, it stopped, and atop her open palm was a small cyclone.
Bian immediately knew what came next, and raised her own winds, pushing it in front of her with a grunt.
The Stormcaster blew on the miniature cyclone, rapidly enlarging it. Bian pulled on her own winds, creating a vacuum and contested the enemy winds, straining to keep the vacuum spell stable.
He enemies gave no reprieve, climbing onto the steel beam, their weapons raised. Three of them.
'This isn't going to be pretty.' Lamenting, Bian dispelled the vacuum spell. A sudden gust followed, and the three men struggled to keep their balance om the thick but narrow steel beam.
Bian, however, kept her cool; she was used to this. Dashing across, she pierced the befuddled man's throat and lashed horizontally, spraying blood in the air and almost hitting a more alert guard.
Her rapier's point nicked off his leather armor, and she took a step back, dodging his twin daggers. Vehement, the man — who seemed to be a Rogue — slashed continuously. Bian dodged and parried most of them, releasing ripostes of her own, only to be met with faints and have her attacks dealt back to her twofold. She had already expected this, though, and the winds she slipped between attacks threw off the man's rhythm, confusing his cadence. His attacks began to dilate in consistency; too quick—opening a window for an explosive counter, or too slow—leaving himself defenseless. The switching rhythms baffled the rogue, eventually losing track of the battle entirely.
Soon, the man fell with a solid thud, his heart pierced as crimson liquid dyed his leather breastplate. There were four left. Flicking her wrist, Bian wiped the blood clean, then looked at the guard left with palpable disdain.
"Come on then, I don't have all day." She fixed a stance and checked her reserves.
'Yeah, I've got about half an hour—no, half. That sounds about right.' Assuming an offensive stance, Bian prepared for a defensive battle.
◇◆◇◆◇
In the midst of chaos, Harita found himself suddenly alone in the guard room. There was a door that connected to the floor below—the underground. He stepped into the dimly lit hallway.
The stairway spiraled, twisting. It reached down, seemingly separate from the way the line of nobles took, and was damp and slightly musky. Frowning, Harita tried to endure terrible stench emanating from deeper down.
'What the hell is that smell?' Pinching his nose, he sent mana to his eyes, igniting Manavision, and tried to peer deeper down.
He clicked his tongue. There was too much distance, and the underground bunker seemed to have some sort of anti-surveillance enchantment woven into it. He saw farther than normal, but not by much. Deeper down, he only saw the darkness seemingly pulsate and breath.
Taking note of what he recognized as a captured creature, Harita slightly quickened his pace. His borrowed Resistance had long gone, and he was left defenseless for any incoming magical attacks. For now, he settled the morbid thoughts following and focused on regenerating his mana, tempering and purifying it methodically, like clockwork.
Seconds bled into minutes, longer still, until he arrived at the bottom of the stairwell. Reinforcing his body, Harita tried peering into the darkness again. This close, his vision would provide better results.
…But sometimes things were better staying unknown and unrecognized. Harita's eyes flew wide open, taking an instinctual step back as the watersteel dagger materialized in his hand.
Huff. Huff. The breathing was heavier here, more real and palpable, as if ignoring its presence was a net negative, and failing to recognize its fearsomeness was a grave disservice.
"What… what is that…" He muttered through batted breaths. Just the thing's presence caused the air to suddenly grow heavier than stone. It was unlike the Legend, whose entire existence teetered on the scale between mighty and holy—no, this was one was different from that. By a lot.
Malevolence. It held the air of ill intent and bodily harm, cause and effect, and misfortune. It was no Legend, proud and true; it was a Myth, malevolent and wicked. Just like the Witch of Envy.