Arville Ancient City (3)
"Hah!"
Laila gasped for breath as her eyes snapped open. Glancing around, her hazy memories sharpened bit by bit. This was the old stone chamber where she'd hidden to evade pursuit.
Rising to her feet, Laila began a simple stretching routine.
With steady breaths and movements in a precise sequence, a warm energy rose from below her navel, spreading through her entire body.
Her body, stiff from sleeping rough, softened in moments.
The mana breathing method Calix had taught her was unique.
Normally, to accumulate mana, one had to swing a weapon along a fixed path.
But the method she'd received required only stretches like the ones she'd just done.
Moreover, repeated practice made her body more flexible, allowing her to strike vital points from angles that defied enemy expectations.
Thanks to that, she'd saved the special task force sisters—escaping amid the chaos Gerard had stirred—from their pursuers.
But for her, more important than boosted combat prowess was finally being able to wield mana.
'Thanks to the mana breathing method you gave me, my long-cherished plan has advanced by twenty years. I have to repay this debt... but it looks impossible in this lifetime. If there's a next life, I'll live it solely for you. I'm sorry.'
She spread out a large cloth and laid out her weapons one by one. She sharpened the dulled dagger blades, replaced the frayed bowstring, and trimmed the fletching on her arrows.
In this way, she steadied her increasingly wavering resolve.
'Revenge... no, what right do I have to speak of revenge? If I can just drag that devilish bastard down to hell with me... that would be enough.'
Her eyes gleamed sharply as she clenched her molars.
Calix had divided the group in two.
One team consisted of those escorting Yurin safely back to Szczecin County, while the rest would go rescue Laila.
Those chasing Laila were likely the executors.
She'd explained that the shadow unit was a new soldier type blending the strengths of assassins and light infantry, with the elite selected as executors.
Protecting an ordinary civilian like Yurin from such assassins would require several times their manpower.
It was better to send her to the territory outright, minimizing force depletion.
After loading Yurin into a carriage bound for the count's castle, the remaining group rode nonstop toward Trem Great Canyon.
About half a day after leaving El Bras Mountain, they arrived before sheer cliffs.
"Is this the place? There's nothing here..."
At Krout's question, Calix silently pointed to one spot.
Between massive cliffs exposing red innards, there was a narrow gap barely wide enough for one person.
"I'll take the lead."
Krout squeezed his body sideways through the gap. The others followed. The long, winding crevice seemed endless, then suddenly opened wide.
It was a barren wasteland dotted with massive boulders.
A gust of wind whipped sand against their cheeks. Calix pulled his scarf up over his nose and mouth.
"Will she be alright? The atmosphere feels off."
"It looks desolate, but surprisingly, it's not that dangerous. There's little food, so neither monsters nor bandit packs can survive here."
"Still, with trackers after Laila, they could show up anytime, right?"
"They won't want a head-on clash with us either. At least not until they capture Laila."
"But how do we plan to find her? Any clues to track her?"
"You think we—with our amateur tracking skills—could spot traces left by a stealthy ranger expert in evasion, pursuit, ambushes, and traps?"
"Pardon? Then how...?"
"We won't find her. Just follow me."
"...Understood."
The place Calix led them to resembled the Golda Plateau ruins entrance. The difference was that one was hidden, while this lay fully exposed.
Descending stairs led underground to a level corridor.
A long passage of bricks etched with patterns. Though subterranean, it wasn't too dark—sunlight leaked through decayed, collapsed holes midway.
It started descending, then shifted to an endless spiral staircase climbing upward. Krout gaped at the grand structure.
"How is the inside of this massive rock hollow? Nature's power is truly awe-inspiring."
"Not nature—humanity's feat."
"You mean people hollowed this out?"
"Exactly."
"How? I heard ancient magic wasn't as advanced as now."
"Hm, no systematic discipline like modern magic, but there were shamans and those with psychic powers."
"Shamans, sure... but psychics?"
"If magic manipulates mana via fixed formulas for special effects, psychics do it instinctively."
"Enviable. Conjuring flames with thought alone. Why'd they vanish?"
"They still exist. Just inefficient, so unused. Weaker than magic, yet mana-hungry."
"Never seen one... rare, huh?"
"Not that rare. Magic tools detect latent psychics pre-awakening. Towers scoop them up, so common folk never know."
"Why bother?"
"Psychics all have top magical talent. Most class 7+ archmages are psychics."
"I see..."
Chatting idly, they slowly ascended.
Over two hours later, the exit appeared—radiant sunlight like heaven's gate.
Sweat pouring, Calix clutched his thighs, practically crawling up.
"Huff, huff! If you're building this, add an elevator. My thighs are gonna burst."
"Ele-va... whatever that is, all martial arts demand solid legs. Think of it as training..."
He cut off Krout's nagging before it worsened.
"Hurry out! Can't exit till you do. Don't block with that bulk."
"Ugh, got it."
Emerging, Calix squinted against the light wave. Adjusting, the vista unfolded: endless red earth fractured by canyons, sky dyed pink. Breathtaking.
"Whew, wait till nightfall. Pitch the tents."
"Yes, sir."
The peak offered panoramic views, its plateau surprisingly spacious—but one misstep meant a thousand-foot drop.
As Krout and escorts set camp, Calix peered over the edge, circling the rim slowly.
"What if you fall? Dangerous!"
"Am I a kid? Instant regret."
Krout averted his glare, turning away.
After three laps, wind-swayed flower buds peeked from below the cliff.
'Found it! Hidden behind that protruding rock. No wonder it wasn't visible.'
Without his deliberate circling, he'd never have spotted it—unless tripping exactly there.
"Krout! Here!"
"Yes, young master! What is it?"
"Brought what I mentioned?"
"Iron stakes and long rope?"
"Yeah. Drive stakes here first. Three sturdy ones to hold your weight."
"My... weight?"
"Tch!"
"Understood."
Soon, pale-faced Krout climbed back.
"Ugh, here's your 'heart'."
Krout offered a stalk with unbloomed buds—thick roots like ginseng.
"Ghostly face for a 'heart'... You got vertigo?"
"Didn't know."
"Gonna be a knight like that? Class 8 flies through air."
"Me, class 8? Heh."
Krout grinned, oblivious Calix saw his max level plainly.
He sighed.
"Sigh, let's eat."
"Fire okay?"
"If executors spot and attack, great. Weakens Laila's encirclement."
"True... got it."
After dinner, as darkness fell, Calix grabbed his scroll bundle.
"Light!"
"Light!"
⟨ FLASHBURST ⟩
"Light!"
"Light!"
⟨ FLASHBURST ⟩
Lightning-like brilliance erupted outward.
"Think it'll work?"
"Hope so. You cast Light every two hours steadily."
"Got it."
Meanwhile, in the darkened canyon, a silent bloodbath unfolded.
Shh! Thunk!
"Guh!"
An arrow pierced an executor's chest.
He uttered only a brief groan till the end. Brutal training denied even a full scream in death.
Dozens of arrows counterattacked toward the shot's origin.
Shh-shh-shh!
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Laila rolled, barely dodging. Her prior spot bristled like a hedgehog.
Only faint sand crunches, ragged breaths, cloth rustles broke the silence.
Yet within, a fierce life-or-death struggle raged.
Ting!
A thin cord snapped; a bent branch whipped back.
Slash!
The tied blade severed an executor's ankle tendon.
Thud!
A comrade shook his head over the fallen—blue-faced, foam-flecked mouth confirmed lethal poison.
Watching silently, Tabar signaled his deputy.
'What was that flash from the peak?'
'I'll check.'
'No need. Catch the stray cat first, investigate later. Herd her opposite—away from there. Watch for traps, ambushes.'
'Yes, captain.'
At dawn, executors tightened the net, unmoving.
Tabar didn't rush. He never grew careless, slowly cinching the noose regardless of target.
Laila's prowess—beyond class 3—made him even more cautious.
"Light!"
⟨ FINAL FLASHBURST ⟩
Tearing the last scroll, Calix said,
"Rangers excel in stealth, tracking, ambushes, traps. Night limits vision, maximizing their edge."
"While class 4s just get physical boosts, narrowing the gap with class 3s at night."
"Right."
"But they saw our lights. Can Laila really break through to here...?"
"Doubtful."
"Then why do this?"
"Think Laila chooses her own path now?"
"No?"
"Executors are herding the rabbit."
"So these lights..."
"We don't know the herding direction. But we can nudge it one way."
"Away from us."
"Time to move."
"Uh, what're you doing?"
Calix tied rope to the herb stake.
"Too busy for stairs now?"
"No way...!"
"You stay, Light another night. Leave at dawn—you'll catch us easy."
Krout hesitated, lips twitching. Calix pressed,
"Send horses back too. Only you can catch the vanguard. No fights for two days—don't worry."
"It's not..."
Calix ignored his acrophobia, hand on shoulder.
"Thanks, man."
"Ah... sure."
Krout hid his grimace desperately.
Whoosh!
Recalling Earth ranger training, Calix rappelled down.
Feet on red sand, he turned toward Laila. The woods unnaturally silent.
'Something's off. What am I missing?'