“Arna!”

  “What did you do!”

  “No!”

  “It was not me!”

  “You saw it too. It was that bastard!”

  “That bastard made us do it!”

  “He killed everyone!”

  “Kill him!”

  “Make him pay!”

  The bloodcurdling screams of pain, and the mournful shriek of horror and regret that followed the chaotic clash of weapons almost made Alnea feel guilty about what he had done. Almost. The subsequent words and actions of those Wanderers, who preferred attacking him over saving their injured companions, made all that guilt go away just as quickly as it had come.

  So, when faced with another wave of weapons coming for him and Zain, Alnea did not hesitate to manifest another Mystery. The time, one from the lineage of Destruction. Curtain of Dusk. A Mystery that lay somewhere in between Water of End and Heavy Water. It was one of Vestia’s lesser used Mysteries. Mostly because of its inflexibility. It did not suit her fighting style. But it worked perfectly well for his situation.

  Just as another barrage of attacks, shining in the light of Decay, were about to land on Alnea, a stream of water gushed out from the ground around him in a circle, blocking off all the weapons. It did not matter how bright and numerous the Aspects wrapped around those weapons were. None of them could get past the curtain of water. On the contrary, as the enraged Wanderers kept attacking the curtain, they only made it thicker, giving it an even more solid form.

  “Back off!” the Whitebud man said, narrowing his eyes at the curtain of water. By then, the other Wanderers had also come to their senses and noticed the peculiarity of the curtain.

  “Curtain of Dusk?” said a Wanderer in green robe, his face turning a little pale. Turning towards the Whitebud man in the distance, he added, “Your information is wrong, Mathias.”

  “…Just a Glyph Token,” the Whitebud man said. “It will not be a problem.”

  “But it already is!” said a pink robed Wanderer, gnashing his teeth, while glaring at the curtain, as blood dripped down the blade of his sword. “That Glyph Token has already caused us half a dozen casualties.”

  “…A Curtain of Dusk summoned from a Glyph Token, even if of the Peak Stage, cannot make much of a difference. Just wait for a few moments, and it will go away on its own.”

  “You know what Onil is talking about,” said a brown robed man, following the pink robed man’s gaze to glance towards the curtain of water. “This is already the third type of token we have seen him use. Who knows how many more tokens he has.”

  “It does not matter how many tokens he has. All he can do is hide behind a shell. You just need to keep cornering him. Eventually, he will run out of his tokens.”

  “But at what cost?”

  “…Some sacrifices are necessary.”

  “Just like the sacrifices you made in the Spatial Storm?”

  “…Your clan is not the only one who suffered losses in the Spatial Storm, Jean,” the Whitebud man said to the green robed man, before glancing at the rest of the agitated Wanderers. “We all did. And everyone is sorry for it. But there is nothing we could have done about it. The Spatial Storm… No one could have seen it coming. Not even True Wanderers.”

  “And what about sacrifices made in the desert?” the brown robed man said. “Did your clan not see them coming either?”

  “…I understand your pain, Nomar, but I think you are forgetting something. The losses suffered by all your clans combined is not even half of the losses suffered by my clan. If we saw it coming, do you think we would have sent all our Wanderers to death?”

  “But you did send them to their deaths. That was your plan, right? To send all the dissenting voices in your clan to a death mission?”

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  “Watch your words, Wonning. You are making some very dangerous allegations.”

  “Then tell me. Why did you send a bunch of Intermediate and Advanced Stage kids against a team that wiped your all your elite teams?”

  “…That was an oversight from our leader in the Lost City. And he has already been punished for it.”

  “By being sent to your legion in the Grand Chasm? He was due to go there anyway. You just sent him ahead of schedule. And you even had him choose a precious legacy. That is not a punishment.”

  “…Who leaked the information?”

  “Are you not going to deny it anymore?”

  “What is the point? You know everything anyway.”

  “…No, not everything,” the brown robed man said, narrowing his eyes at the Whitebud man, while tightening his grip around his sword. “For example, I still do not understand why your clan had to draw us into its internal struggles. Why did it make us pay for its sins?”

  “…I admit that some innocent people may have been dragged into this mess unwittingly, which is why we compensated your clans for all its losses. But we sinned no more than your clans did.”

  “…What do you mean?”

  “You understand very clearly what I mean, Nomar. Otherwise, you would not be talking with me right now.”

  “…I do not understand. Why did they have to be sacrificed, Mathias? What did they do wrong?”

  “…It is not about what they did. It never was. They were just a little unlucky. But their sacrifice was necessary, both for my clan, and yours…”

  “…The necessary sacrifice you are talking about also included my brother.”

  “…That was an unfortunate accident, Nomar. And you know it too. Your brother… his job was only to observe from a distance. Not charge in with the rest. Besides, he was not the only one who died that day. My brother died too. And that is why I can understand your rage. But you are taking it out on the wrong person. The Captain of the team your brother died to is right in front of you. If you want your revenge, then capture him, and bring him to me. I promise you that I will make him suffer so much, that he would wish he could beg for death.”

  “…I want to make him suffer with my own hands.”

  “And you will. But first, you must capture him. And you must let me complete the Ritual to rekindle the miracle. After that, you can do whatever you want with him. Just make sure that he does not die. That is the agreement your clan made with mine.”

  “…The agreement also had nothing about rekindling a miracle.”

  “That was because they did not know about the things hidden here… in this forest. And it is not as if there is any clash between completing our Ritual, and the task given by our clan. I am sure that they would not mind us taking a little detour.”

  “But—

  “This is once in a lifetime opportunity for us, Vahin. Just think of the glory we will bring if we succeed…”

  “Your glory. You are the one who will be receiving the ‘miracle’.”

  “And I will share it with everyone. Just as we discussed.”

  “But what if something goes wrong…”

  “Nothing will go wrong. We have already been through this so many times. I just need to borrow his Roots—

  “That is what I cannot understand. Why does it have to be him? Why his Roots? What is so special about them?”

  “That, you need to ask the trees,” the Whitebud man said, shrugging his shoulders. “They were the ones who found him to save themselves. Fortunately for us, he did not listen. Though it is not as if he could have changed anything anyway. At worst, we would have just had to make a few more preparations to complete the Ritual.”

  “…Are you sure that he will not die in the Ritual?”

  “…Just a few moments ago, you could not wait to kill him with your own hands, and now, you are worried about him accidentally dying in the Ritual?”

  “…Back then, I was a big brother. Right now, I am a Wanderer.”

  “…Spoken like a true Wonning.”

  “…For the sake of our cooperation, I will act as if I did not hear you say that. But if you try to insult my clan again—

  “My apologies, if that came out as demeaning. I had no intention of insulting your clan. I was just admiring some of your clan’s… qualities—

  “Enough with the nonsense. Just tell me, what will you do if something goes wrong? How will we answer our clans?”

  “…You do not have to worry about it. Since I stand to gain the most, naturally, I will handle all the consequences that arise from performing the Ritual. But only if those consequences come just from the Ritual. If, perchance, you were to bring him to me half dead, and he dies while in midst of the Ritual, then I will not take any responsibility for the failure of our mission.”

  “…I know. You do not have to tell me.”

  “I am just letting you know, lest the brother in you loses himself in his anger,” the Whitebud man said, before glancing at the rest of the Wanderers around him. “And that holds true for all of you. I know that most of you have a grudge against him. And I understand where you are coming from. I also want him to suffer and die in the most gruesome way. Yet, we must hold ourselves back. Once we capture him, you can torture or maim him all you want, but he must not die.”

  “…What about the other one?”

  “That useless Arcanist?”

  “The one from the Enhall clan?”

  “…It does not matter what clan he is from,” the Whitebud man said, turning back towards the flickering curtain of water. “Since he has chosen to stand against us, there is no need for him to live anymore.”

  “…Then he is mine.”

  “As you wish,” the Whitebud man said, with his grin returning back to his face, just as the curtain completely broke apart, exposing the men hiding in its shelter. “Now, go, capture him, and let me show him a true miracle.”