The footsteps of Thomas, Jeanne, and Pharnaces echoed through the silent corridors of the church, interrupted only by their heavy breathing after the encounter with the Archlich. Thomas struggled to suppress his unease, but his thoughts kept racing.
"Navigator, what's really going on? Where is that Archlich?" Thomas demanded, his voice tense.
"I don't know either," the Navigator replied in a flat tone that barely masked its doubt. "There's no suspicious activity at our flying castle. For now, focus on the quest and get out of this church. I've already contacted Catherine earlier."
Thomas frowned at the mention of that name. Catherine was not someone he fully trusted, but if the Navigator had involved her, then the situation must be worse than it seemed. "And what about the guard knights? What do we do with them?"
"That's up to you. Your primary focus is to minimize casualties. I can only give you this warning: choose wisely, Thomas."
Thomas exhaled sharply. "Of course, it's always up to us," he muttered bitterly before turning to Jeanne and Pharnaces. "We're leaving. Do what you can to save the civilians."
They stepped out of the church, and the scene before them took their breath away.
The city of Esverita had turned into a hellscape. Fires blazed along the streets, and the screams of its people echoed through the air. The guard knights, who were supposed to protect the citizens, had become their executioners. Everywhere, bodies of townsfolk lay lifeless, blood flowing down the streets like a cruel river.
Jeanne closed her eyes, her hands gripping her sword tightly. "What has happened to them?" she asked, her voice almost like a prayer.
"Charm magic," Thomas answered firmly, swallowing hard as he watched a guard behead a civilian without hesitation. "This is the fallout of what we did to Abner."
Pharnaces tapped the hilt of his sword anxiously. "They're not aware of what they're doing. We can't just kill them, but—"
Jeanne raised her hand, cutting Pharnaces off. "No buts. We must stop this. If we don't fight back, more lives will be lost."
Thomas looked at her, then let out a deep sigh. "Alright. Then we need to be strategic. Don't aim to kill, just incapacitate. We need to act fast."
They began to move, but their steps faltered when they saw a woman standing amidst the chaos. Virginia de Leyva, her majestic black cloak flowing, radiated a calm aura despite the inferno around her. Magic flowed from her hands, causing several guards to collapse unconscious, their bodies surrounded by a light that seemed to soothe their souls.
Virginia turned when she saw them approaching. "Thomas, Jeanne, Pharnaces," she called out urgently. "You must help. This is spiraling out of control."
"Virginia," Jeanne greeted, her voice filled with both gratitude and sorrow. "You're still holding on?"
"I don't know for how much longer," Virginia replied, her magic continuing to restrain three guards who were attempting to attack a child. "This spell weakens them temporarily, but it's not enough to stop them all."
Pharnaces drew his sword. "We have no choice but to fight."
Virginia nodded. "Do what you must. I'll protect as many civilians as I can." She fixed her sharp gaze on Thomas. "The three of you are their only hope now."
Thomas nodded slowly, though guilt stabbed at his heart. "Alright," he said coldly. "We won't let this massacre continue."
***
In a modest but clean inn in the heart of Libenthium, Catherine de Medici sat on a hard wooden chair, her hands resting on the table, her sharp gaze fixed on a small map spread before her. Across the table, Pierre d'Arc, his face perpetually resolute, rolled up his sleeves and adjusted the bow on his back. Meanwhile, Nina, the youngest of the group, sat nervously in the corner of the room, fidgeting with the strings of her pouch.
"Lord Barthold is stubborn," Catherine finally said, breaking the heavy silence. Her voice was cold and calculating, as always. "But he is also intelligent. If we play our cards right, he will agree."
Pierre raised an eyebrow. "And what are those cards, exactly? Barthold isn't easily swayed. His loyalty lies with his people more than anyone, even the crown."
"That's what makes him ideal," Catherine replied calmly, sliding the map across the table. "He doesn't need to be loyal to anyone except his people. All we need to do is convince him that helping us is the same as protecting them."
Nina looked at Catherine with doubt in her eyes. "And how do we convince him? Mobilizing the military is a big gamble. If we make the wrong move, he might see us as a threat."
Catherine sighed, as if Nina's question only underscored the frailty she despised in the world. "Lord Barthold is a pragmatist. He won't act on words or empty promises. We need something tangible to give him a reason to act."
Pierre leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting toward the window overlooking the dimming city streets. "Are you talking about an alliance, Catherine? Or a bigger threat?"
"A bigger threat," Catherine replied firmly. "And we don't have to create it. It's already staring us in the face; Esverita is on the brink of collapse, and if Prince Calius pushes further, Libenthium's peace won't last long. Barthold only needs to understand that this isn't a matter of choice—it's a necessity."
Pierre nodded slowly, though concern remained etched on his face. "I just worry he'll choose neutrality. He's not the type to get involved in conflicts outside his own city."
"That's why we're here, isn't it?" Catherine met Pierre's gaze, her eyes gleaming with determination. "You and I, we have the ability to make these people see the bigger picture. If Barthold understands that his people's safety is tied to our success, he will act."
Nina, who had been silent all this time, finally voiced her thoughts. "But what if he still refuses? What if he chooses to close this city off from the outside world?"
Catherine's lips curled into a small, cold smile. "If that happens, then we'll make him see the truth. By any means necessary."
Pierre looked at Catherine with an expression difficult to read. There was admiration in his eyes, but also a flicker of doubt. "We have to tread carefully, Catherine. We're here to persuade, not to impose our will."
"You're too naive, Pierre," Catherine retorted without hesitation. "We don't have time for niceties. If Barthold doesn't support us, there will be nothing left of this city. You know that."
Pierre let out a long sigh but didn't argue. He knew Catherine was right, but his sense of justice was uneasy with such an approach.
"Tomorrow," Catherine declared, rising from her chair. "We'll meet Barthold. I'll lead the discussion, but I need you both to back my every word. This has to work."
The three of them sat around the table, their minds clouded with uncertainty about the steps they needed to take. But the tense silence was suddenly broken by a cold, firm voice that echoed in Catherine and Pierre's minds.
"Catherine, Pierre! There's no time to hesitate. You must convince Lord Barthold tonight, by any means necessary," the navigator's voice rang out, like an echo that couldn't be ignored. "Prince Calius is dead, and someone calling themselves Archpriest Mephisa now controls the kingdom of Esverita. If you don't act now, it will be too late."
Catherine stiffened but quickly regained her composure. Her gaze turned sharp, though her calm face concealed a torrent of questions. "Archpriest Mephisa? Who is he? And what's his connection to this situation?" Catherine asked, speaking to the navigator in her mind.
The navigator replied impatiently. "There's no time for a long explanation. Right now, Thomas is battling the manipulated prince. You must act before everything falls apart."
Pierre, hearing the voice as well, clenched his jaw and looked at Catherine. "What does this mean, Catherine? Is it true?" he asked quietly, trying to make sense of what they'd just heard.
The navigator left no room for doubt. "Trust me this time. If you fail to persuade Barthold, nothing will stop the destruction of Esverita and the cities around it."
And then, the voice was gone. Catherine and Pierre exchanged tense glances.
"We have no choice," Catherine finally said, her voice cold and resolute. "We must act now."
Pierre nodded, though his face still showed signs of reluctance. "If what the navigator said is true, then we can't wait. But, Catherine, are you sure we should involve Libenthium's military?"
Catherine stood, smoothing her gown with a composed gesture that contrasted with the tension in her eyes. "If we don't involve them, we lose our chance. Barthold must understand the urgency. If he refuses, we'll make him." She turned her gaze to Nina. "Nina, prepare yourself. We're heading to Lord Barthold's residence tonight."
Nina looked startled but didn't dare oppose Catherine. "Are you sure, Catherine? Approaching him at night might make us seem too aggressive."
"Better aggressive than seen as passive," Catherine replied firmly. "Time is no longer on our side."
Pierre exhaled deeply. Though his idealistic heart longed for a more peaceful solution, he knew Catherine was right. The world wasn't giving them perfect choices. "Alright. But I want you to know, Catherine, if we force our hand, we must be ready to face the consequences."
Catherine didn't answer, merely looking at Pierre with eyes that seemed to say she had already accepted all the consequences from the start. The three of them quickly packed their belongings, leaving the comfort of the inn to walk through the quiet streets of Libenthium.
***