As Bassario walked out the main door, Bossia realized that there was no feasible plan for escape. There were too many soldiers. Even in the dark corners untouched by moonlight, one could see the glint of armor. The air was filled with a coldness that signaled both aggression and strict vigilance. More importantly, Nehari was commanding them. He stood at the center of the front line, glanced at Bossia, and then focused his attention on Bassario. At first, Bossia thought she would see disdain in Nehari's eyes, but she quickly realized it was a look of extreme caution.
"Intruder," he said. "Lay down your weapon and identify yourself."
Bossia stood in front of Bassario. "Nehari," she said, "let him go. He only came to find me and did nothing else. I will explain everything."
"You will have your chance to explain, after I ensure there are no surprises."
"Bassario." She turned around, placing her left hand on his right arm, looking into his eyes. "For now, just do as he..."
She didn't finish her sentence. It would be unfamiliar for Bassario not to resist the enemy and instead put down the insect bone sword that Jose had left him. He frowned, his right hand gripping the sword hilt with no sign of relaxing. Bossia didn't know if he was still considering an escape plan; she only hoped he wouldn't charge at Nehari.
Nehari observed the purple blade in the stranger's hand. He couldn't identify the material it was made of, nor had he seen such a peculiar shape before; and he prided himself on having seen every weapon that had proven its worth on the battlefield. The stranger's demeanor and physique indicated he was battle-hardened, so the weapon was not just for show. Nehari had deliberately reduced the number of guards to lure him out, but he hadn't expected the stranger to immediately seize the opportunity to enter Bossia's room, showing no hesitation. His gaze was full of challenge, yet it was neither fierce nor showed the arrogance of a commander; it merely indicated his loyalty to the power he had gained through hard training, and his readiness to display it before anyone, under any circumstances. From Bossia's fingers resting lightly on him—though she barely applied any pressure—and the look in her eyes, Nehari could see dependency and concern; their relationship was clear. The stranger showed no obvious response to her current reliance and plea. An extraordinary warrior, Nehari thought. While the stranger was unlikely to escape unharmed, causing chaos was certainly possible. Capturing the intruder in the end would be good, but during the actual archbishop election process, he didn't want any casualties among his elite soldiers. They were all devout followers of the Holy Light.
"Intruder," he said. "It seems you highly respect the weapon in your hand, not intending to abandon it lightly. I admire that. While we stand as enemies, it does not mean we must kill each other. I am Nehari Charlostu, Bishop of the Holy Light Cathedral, and the commanding officer of the Stormwind West Plague Garrison. Please tell me your name."
"Bassario."
"Bassario, I believe you do not belong to any regular army... Answer me an important question, did you come here to meet Bossia Wislanzo for personal reasons?"
"I came to take her away."
"Then, no other forces or organizations are involved in this?"
"No."
"I see. It is very unfortunate that I do not know if Bossia has explained to you that she cannot leave Stormwind for the time being. She has a very important matter to attend to."
"Is what he said true?" Bassario asked Bossia. "You told me there was nothing left to hold you here."
"No, I..."
Bossia was momentarily at a loss for words. She had originally planned to harden her heart and abandon any potential troubles.
Nehari noticed her distress. "It seems you made this decision out of a moment of recklessness," he said.
"Tomorrow... I am to receive the relic left to me by the Archbishop." She finally spoke to him. At the very least, Nehari shouldn't be the one to say it.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I thought... it didn't concern us. And you were already here..."
"Maybe it doesn't concern me, but I can wait a day, Bossia. We have plenty of time."
"No, that's not important..."
"Not important? He was the one who raised you, and what he left behind isn't important? Then why did you leave me without a word?"
This time, he was truly blaming her. Earlier, when they were in the bedroom, he hadn't shown the agitation he did now. His eyes were full of frustration and confusion, but soon, they might be replaced by genuine anger.
Looking into Bassario's eyes, Portia's fingers began to tremble, slowly sliding off his arm. When she started to feel short of breath, she understood why Bassario's initial calmness—seemingly unaffected—had shifted to his current attitude.
Bossia almost forgot that Bassario was a native of Silithus. Before he met her, he possessed and cherished only the entire desert's history and the collective will of the desert's survivors. From visiting the tombs of Crystal Vale to his reluctance to part with the purple insect bone sword just now, it was clear how important the things left by his guardians were to him. Jose, and Rahol—even for the latter, Bassario might not openly admit it—they were always the deepest source of his beliefs. He hadn't been angry at Bossia's sudden departure because he thought she could understand and share his sentiments: respect for those who nurtured and taught him. If it was for such an important matter that she had to leave suddenly, he could understand. Now her words had not only removed the foundation of his understanding but also created a rift in an area they had never noticed between them.
And there was something even worse.
Bossia wasn't being paranoid. She could see all these changes in his eyes.
Bassario
She said the relic wasn't important. Then, no matter how straightforward Bassario was, he couldn't help but think—
She was lying about the reason for leaving.
Don't doubt me
"I will say this one more time," Nehari raised his voice. "Bossia cannot leave for now. And you, Bassario, I hope you will come with us and answer some questions. Although you broke into the house, you didn't hurt anyone. Given the special circumstances, I do not intend to punish you. Please put down your weapon and avoid causing further trouble."
"Why must I do that?"
"This is for her own good too. I believe she wouldn't want to see you get hurt."
"I'll go with you. But I'm keeping this sword with me."
"I'm sorry, that's not realistic..."
"Then take it from me yourself."
Nehari realized that repeatedly emphasizing putting down the weapon was only having the opposite effect. Bassario's current attitude didn't seem to be about protecting Bossia; he must have already known that she was definitely safe. He was using this.
At the moment, neither of them could be harmed. Nehari hadn't heard their conversation clearly, but it was evident that Bossia had become mentally unstable, completely losing the initiative she had earlier when she stood in front of Bassario. Even without considering her, Nehari wasn't about to have his soldiers rush in and kill Bassario. This man could tell him what Bossia had gone through—the question that had lingered in Nihiri's mind since the wooden sword duel.
Nehari understood that Bassario was provoking him to use force. Perhaps it was part of an escape plan. Bossia said something else... probably trying to persuade him, but it seemed ineffective. To take away his weapon while minimizing casualties... there was still one way. It might be risky, but there was no reason it shouldn't work. Nehari had previously introduced himself, and Bassario hadn't reacted particularly, so he probably hadn't heard of him—this explained his current bravery. Nehari needed to show this man with the strange weapon how ignorant and foolish it was to think he could exploit the current situation instead of surrendering early.
Bossia saw Nehari walking over with a war hammer in hand. She didn't know what to say anymore, so when Bassario told her to step back, she could only comply. He held his sword up and didn't look back at her. She realized that perhaps this was Bassario's way of venting his displeasure. Since they truly fell in love in Silithus, he had never ignored her opinions, choosing a dangerous course alone—until now.
She couldn't bear to watch. She turned away, closed her eyes, and covered one ear. It was impossible to block out the sound of weapons clashing, but her mind allowed other indistinct noises to take over.
Why
Why me
Why
It could have been thirty seconds, or maybe a minute, but to Bossia, it was an equally long torment. What snapped her out of her thoughts and made her open her eyes was another kind of commotion from all around, including hurried footsteps and shouting. She saw Nehari kneeling on one knee, his body rigid, with his war hammer fallen beside him; Bassario's left foot was on the hammer's handle, and the insect bone sword blade was pressed against the right side of Nihiri's neck. The soldiers were about to rush forward; Nehari raised his right hand to stop them.
"Enough. I'll go with you." Bassario withdrew his sword.
The soldiers took Bassario away. Whether they confiscated his weapon, Bossia didn't see. A few other guards and servants rushed forward and escorted her back to her room. Just as she was about to step inside, Nehari called out to her. She turned around, noticing the faint trace of blood on the right side of the bishop's temple. Although the situation had been resolved, he still seemed somewhat annoyed and embarrassed; after all, things hadn't gone as planned.
"...Do you have anything else to say?" he asked.
"Tomorrow, I'll receive the relic, yet you think I'm just going to leave with him."
"I remember you were the one least willing for me to obtain the relic."
"Because I don't trust you. However, since the council has already issued the order, I must obey. I can believe you haven't committed treason, but I hope you think carefully—based on your actions tonight, do you truly deserve to inherit what the Archbishop left behind?"
"The council? No one told me this was their decision," Bossia said after a moment of silence.
"Everything must be settled before the new Archbishop takes office. That includes matters concerning the MI7. That includes the man you once met, Jorgen."
"What will happen to him?"
"Hanging."
Later, Bossia returned to her bedroom, closed the door, and sat on the bed. She noticed the nightclothes she had taken off were still lying nearby. As she was removing them, she thought to herself: No more mistakes.
She covered her ears with her hands and began to cry.