Oblea fights to keep her composure, her body instinctively readying itself for combat.
Valen's voice remains calm. "Please, Oblea, with the number of people here, you wouldn't stand a chance. Maybe you could take some of us one-on-one, but Ark and I together would stop you."
He moves to the side of the tent, peeking through a partially zipped window. "Besides, your daughter won't survive if we don't head for the city soon. Fighting would only make things worse—for both of you."
His words hang heavily as he stares outside.
Oblea's eyes narrow, her anger barely contained. "What do you want?" she demands, her voice sharp.
"You've endured a lot, so I'll keep this brief."
He turns to face her, his expression unreadable. "Your daughter is a bloodcraft user. A heretic. I need to take both of you to the city."
Her anger flares visibly at his words, her hands trembling.
"I don't want this outcome, Oblea," Valen says, his tone softening. "Your daughter saved my people—she's brave, selfless and strong. But I have a duty to the church." He pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes momentarily closed. "You need to understand that I don't have a choice in this matter."
Oblea's fists clench tightly, her entire body tense
"Don't let her sacrifice be for nothing," Valen continues, pulling a set of handcuffs and a rope from one of his pouches. He places them on the table between them. "I can at least guarantee your safety until we reach the city, where her sentence—and yours—will be decided.".
For a moment, Oblea is silent. Then, with a long sigh, she lowers her head. "I don't see another way out of this. Do what you have to."
Valen nods solemnly. "I'm sorry, Oblea." He fastens the cuffs around her only wrist, leaving them loose enough to avoid causing her pain, then ties the rope around her waist, binding her arm close to her body.
Guiding her outside, he spots Ark. "Ark!" he calls. "This woman harbored a heretic. We're taking her and the girl back to the city for sentencing. The girl is a bloodcraft user."
Ark's eyes widen. "W-what? I thought…" he stammers before trailing off, his gaze locking with Valen's. His disbelief is evident.
"You heard me, Ark," Valen says firmly. "Take her and ensure she doesn't try anything. Once the others are finished, we move out."
"Yes…" Ark replies hesitantly, his tone heavy with reluctance. "Mr. Valen," he adds, his expression a mix of sadness and resignation.
"Good," Valen replies curtly before turning away and heading to the medical tent. He steps inside, his gaze landing on Ciel. "Ciel, you're in charge of her during the journey. She is to remain restrained and treated as a prisoner until we reach the city."
Ciel spins around, startled. "A prisoner?!" she exclaims, her shock clear.
"She's a bloodcraft user," Valen states coldly. "Be cautious if she wakes up."
"I… I'll be careful," Ciel responds, her voice unsure. She forces a small, nervous smile but turns back to Eska, her expression softening into one of quiet sorrow.
Valen exits the tent, surveying the camp as it bustles with activity.
The hunters and soldiers work together, dismantling tents and loading their supplies onto large, lizard-like beasts. Papers, boxes and gear are secured into packs slung over the creatures' sides, the preparations for departure nearly complete.
The creatures stand about four feet tall and stretch to twelve feet in length, not including their tails.
Their lean, elongated bodies are covered in dark gray skin, marked with black stripes that run down from their spines and stop halfway down their sides. Walking on four legs, each limb ends in five sharp claws.
Their necks are long and slender, leading to a small, angular head. Like snakes, they frequently flick out their tongues—thin, unnervingly long and constantly tasting the air.
When they open their mouths, rows of sharp green fangs are revealed, with two prominent, viper-like fangs on each side, creating a fearsome, serrated arsenal.
Valen orders the crew packing the creatures. "Don't load up Ciel's Namura; it will carry both her and the girl,"
"Yes, sir!" they respond in unison.
Before long, the camp is cleared and Valen, Ciel, Ark and the others mount their respective Namuras. Oblea rides with Valen, Eska with Ciel and Ark rides solo. The rest of the Namuras carry up to three people each.
"We head south to the city! Single line until we hit the road!" Valen calls out and his Namura surges forward, the rest falling into line.
The Namuras navigate the terrain effortlessly.
They weave through the dense forest like serpents, their elongated bodies bending and twisting fluidly around trees and over uneven terrain.
Their riders hardly feel the sharp turns as the creatures slither through the trees, each step calculated to avoid obstacles with ease. The sound of their claws lightly scraping the ground is drowned out by the rhythm of their swift strides.
Hours pass as they traverse the forest, startling predators that flee at the sight of the pack. By the time they reach the road, the night sky has fully settled in.
On the road, they shift into rows of three for the journey east. Along the way, they pass carriages drawn by Namuras of varying colors, their long tails clutching the carriages' fronts like anchors.
At last, a massive white wall looms in the distance, stretching endlessly in both directions.
The road leads straight to the wall through a wide tunnel, now congested with people. Merchants, travelers, hunters and commoners alike are held up by guards conducting inspections.
The guards move methodically, questioning and investigating as they allow people through in small groups.
The group reaches the front of the tunnel, where Valen dismounts his Namura and presents identification papers to the guard. After a brief conversation, they are granted access and the gates open to reveal the city beyond.
Inside, the city is alive with energy, even at this late hour. Merchants shout to advertise their goods, the clang of metalwork echoes through the streets and the hum of conversations fills the air.
The buildings, made of sturdy brick and wood, rise two or three stories high, their windows glowing with warm light. Tall light poles illuminate the streets with steady flames, creating a lively and almost overwhelming atmosphere.
The group enters what seems to be the business district, where the activity shows no signs of slowing.
Valen pulls out a whistle and blows it sharply, signaling for the group to follow as they navigate the crowded streets.
Soon, they arrive at a large plaza. At its center stands an elaborate fountain, its cascading water glistening under the light poles and surrounded by neatly planted grass.
From this vantage point, the silhouette of a massive cathedral dominates the skyline, its grandeur impossible to ignore, towering over every other structure in the city.
The group makes their way toward the cathedral, the road leveling out as they approach.
The surrounding area is a wide expanse of grass, interspersed with small stone paths and benches for rest. Soon, they arrive at the grand building, its towering spires silhouetted against the night sky.
Valen halts the group and addresses them. "Hunters, take your injured to the infirmary. Your job here is done. Report to the Corps to log a successful mission."
He turns to Ark and tosses him a coin. Ark catches it and glances down to see a silver coin engraved with the church's symbol—a half sun split vertically.
Ark nods slightly and calls out to his team, "Let's go!" before leading them and their Namuras back into the city.
As Valen observes the departing hunters, a woman approaches him with a group in tow.
She is dressed in attire matching his own, her green eyes sharp and her long red braid draped over her shoulder. Behind her, several figures wear gear similar to Valen's team, while others are clad in robes of matching colors.
A thin longsword hangs at her side and leather vambraces reinforce her forearms, giving her a balanced appearance of grace and authority.
"Valen! Good to see you back. How did the rescue go?" the woman asks, her voice curious and direct.
"No deaths. A complete success by all means, unlike most missions of this nature," Valen replies.
He hesitates before continuing, "Lenna, I need your help with something. This girl and her mother... The girl is a bloodcraft user. Her mother is with her. I need the woman placed in a cell while I speak with the Speaker. Ciel can stay with the girl—she's gravely injured."
"A bloodcraft user?!" Lenna gasps, her green eyes widening in shock.
Her gaze shifts to Oblea and the unconscious Eska, her expression tight with concern. "Understood. I'll handle it," she says quickly, her voice firm as she waves over Ciel and her Namura. Oblea moves over to Ciel's Namura
"My knights will return the Namuras to their stables," Valen adds.
"Sure thing, Valen," Lenna replies, already organizing her team as Valen dismounts.
He turns and calmly walks toward the cathedral, its massive hexagonal structure dominating the skyline. Gates on each of its six walls stand open, inviting those from the bustling plaza into its sacred halls.
Men and women clad in plate armor and white robes adorned with blue and gold embroidery gather at one side of the plaza, their presence imposing yet serene. Knights and Acolytes from the church.
Valen moves toward one of the cathedral's grand entrances. Behind the towering gates, rows of benches face the center of the cathedral, where a quiet reverence fills the air.
Some people pray in silence, dressed in a mix of church garb, hunting attire and civilian clothing. Children dart behind the benches, their playful screams echoing through the solemn halls.
Valen follows the central carpet toward the altar, surrounded by benches and six towering pillars, each with an entryway leading elsewhere.
He approaches one of the pillars, stepping inside as the floor beneath him descends.
The platform opens into a vast chamber below, smaller than the grand hall above but still spacious enough for rows of acolytes and knights.
They kneel in formation, heads bowed in prayer as a man at the front reads from a massive floating book.
The words seem incoherent, neither in a foreign language nor recognizable speech, but gibberish that feels profound.
Valen bows his head slightly in respect before moving down a wide hallway. The corridor is lined with doors—some open to reveal acolytes in training, others firmly shut.
At the end of the hall, he reaches a gate and knocks. The heavy doors split down the middle and open inward, revealing a man standing at the far end of the room, his back turned.
The man wears white robes edged with gold and a staff decorated with intricate designs rests by his side.
"Valen." The deep, resonant voice fills the chamber as Valen steps inside, the gates closing firmly behind him.
"Speaker, I need to discuss an urgent matter with you," Valen begins.
The speaker turns slowly, his age evident in his movements. His clouded eyes suggest blindness, yet his presence feels sharp and commanding.
"Is this about your mission?" he asks.
"It is. The mission was a success, but in the process, we discovered..." Valen hesitates, his words catching in his throat.
"There is nothing to fear or conceal from the church, Valen," the speaker says firmly, his tone both encouraging and admonishing.
Valen nods, drawing a deep breath. "We found a bloodcraft user and her parent, who has been hiding her."
The speaker's expression softens, his voice lowering. "You have done well and yet I sense hesitation in your voice, Valen. Tell me what troubles you."
"The girl saved the people in the ruins. She entered alone, knowing the dangers and without her, they wouldn't have survived," Valen explains, urgency creeping into his tone.
The speaker hums in thought, stroking his chin. "Tell me more about this girl."
"She was raised as a hunter by Oblea, a former Warden and Trailblazer specialist from the Hellcats guild,"
Valen continues. "Oblea knew the risks but allowed her to live. The girl showed courage beyond her years."
"Oblea," the speaker murmurs, considering the name. "A highly esteemed hunter."
He pauses, his expression thoughtful. "The law is clear. Bloodcraft users, even children, are to be eliminated under the will of the gods."
"I understand, Speaker," Valen says, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "But without her, those lives would have been lost. Lives we should have protected."
"Do not fret, Valen. You've always had a kind heart," the speaker says with a faint chuckle. "I will pass judgment after I meet the girl and the mother. For now, return to your duties. Rest—you've earned it."
"Yes, Speaker. Thank you," Valen replies, bowing deeply.
As Valen turns to leave, the speaker's voice calls out once more. "Valen. The gods are just, regardless of their judgment." A faint smile crosses the speaker's face as Valen exits the chamber.