Moonlit Pursuit and the Fiery-Haired Terror
Silver moonlight filtered softly through the dense canopy of trees. Relying on that glow, silver-armored knights climbed the mountainside, accompanied by paladins clad in even purer white heavy plate. Bellanis, the vice-captain, approached Ardella, who walked at the center of the two groups.
"Captain. We've linked up with the advance paladins."
"That means we're almost there. Good. We'll take our final rest here."
"Yes, ma'am."
Bellanis relayed Ardella's orders to a nearby knight, and soon the entire group halted in the mountains. Everyone except a few knights and paladins assigned to stand watch sat on the ground, catching their breath and resting.
Ardella watched them for a moment before placing the necklace she'd kept tucked away on her palm. The blue gem dangling from the chain was intricately faceted into an octagon, one face of which glimmered faintly with light.
It was a necklace Amelia—adventurer and branded criminal who couldn't leave the city—had given her. The glowing face of this gem pointed straight toward Smith.
"To think he'd craft something like this."
A location-tracking spell. Ardella toyed with the necklace, shaking her head in disbelief. She couldn't even begin to imagine what powered it.
Slaves weren't all that common, so ordinary folk assumed location-tracking magic was real. Unfortunately, no such spell or magic tool existed. It was just a lie slave traders and black market dealers told to terrify slaves and reassure buyers.
The only way for a slave to verify it was to run—and with a slave brand plainly visible on their body, they couldn't even pass a city gate. They knew that, so none ever tried. Buyers were fooled the same way: sellers warned of slaves killing owners and fleeing, claiming they managed the tools themselves; buyers just needed the slave certificate, and for an extra fee—or none at all—they'd retrieve any runaway. Over time, the lie became "truth" etched into people's minds.
Of course, like Ardella, anyone with position or wealth knew it was all bullshit. Lies were tailored to the listener's status.
"And now it's no longer a lie."
Ardella was genuinely dumbfounded. Who the hell had created this history-making magic tool? If word got out, the Mage Tower would erupt.
Of course, she had no intention of spreading it. Her knights here were tight-lipped, and the paladins couldn't care less about such things.
Still, when she returned it, she'd ask Amelia who made it.
"Captain."
"...What is it?"
Ardella snapped out of her thoughts at her vice-captain's voice.
"Your expression looked tense."
"...I've always wondered, Bellanis. How do you read my mood so well?"
"It's all over your face."
"Haha, you're the only one who says that."
Ardella, the only one without her helmet, smiled faintly. Even to another woman, that smile—bathed in soft moonlight—seemed utterly captivating, Bellanis thought.
"So, what's troubling you?"
"Nothing specific. I just realized how much I still don't know."
"Never thought you'd worry about that, Captain."
"Neither did I."
Ardella tilted her head back, gazing up at the treetops where moonlight didn't reach. There sat a woman in a white robe stamped with six pairs of wings—the symbol of the goddess of abundance.
Ardella recalled the day Smith was kidnapped.
Amelia had been furious. Ardella expected her to rage wildly, but despite the outward anger, Amelia stayed cool and collected. Her brief loss of control—smashing furniture and drawing attention from upstairs adventurers—shut their loose lips effectively enough.
While Amelia fetched the tracking necklace, Kernax and Bellanis returned to the guild.
Come to think of it, Kernax's reaction was unexpected too.
Smith might not realize it, but Kernax's gaze held deep affection. Yet when she heard he'd been taken, she barely reacted. Ardella figured she'd insist on joining the pursuit despite the odds.
But Kernax stuck to her duty until the pursuit left the city.
Still, the biggest surprise was...
The situation was urgent, so temples only sent paladins beyond the minimum guards. Heretics were the ultimate evil to all clergy, so they eagerly joined.
Even the weakest temple in Molingta—the one to the god of the hunt—sent two paladins.
Yet from the mightiest temple on the continent, Rapitera's in Molingta, came just one. And not even a paladin.
Ardella had heard from her mother about someone blessed by Rapitera in Molingta and built ties with Agatha over repeated visits.
So Agatha's choice stung a bit. Even Ardella, skilled at hiding emotions, let her displeasure show. Agatha just smiled quietly and retreated to the temple without a word.
Now I see why Amelia distrusts Agatha so much.
Impossible to read, so naturally you'd stay wary, Ardella thought.
"I figured she'd step up out of shame for losing to heretics. She's truly inscrutable."
Bellanis glanced where Ardella looked and fell silent.
"This rest should suffice. Bellanis."
"Yes, ma'am."
Bellanis whispered to a nearby knight and headed to the paladins. Soon, everyone rose and resumed marching through the mountains.
"Halt."
The lead paladins stopped dead as a white-robed woman appeared out of nowhere, blocking their path. They hadn't sensed her approach or method.
"What's the holdup?"
"She appeared and stopped us."
Bellanis rushed up as the front halted. She saw the woman Ardella had been watching—back turned—standing there and approached.
"What is it?"
"The stench of filthy Petmira bitches is thick ahead. There's a rat hole where they're hiding."
"Then we press on."
"No. You wait here until I signal. His Lordship held back his wrath to give us this chance... I'll take at least one apostle bitch's head."
"What the hel—"
Bellanis started to protest the woman's cryptic words but trailed off, blinking blankly.
"She... vanished?"
No footprints marked where she'd stood moments ago.
"Aaaah, what the fuck is that asshole guy thinking, changing plans midstream like thaaat?! Hey!! It's crooked there!!"
The woman in a Petmira-cult robe yelled, and the pointed-out woman bowed repeatedly, erasing her painstakingly drawn symbol to start over.
"Just do it right the first time, damn it. Always gotta make shit twice as annoying. Tsk tsk."
Petmira's 13th Apostle, Chara-Tatta, propped her feet on the desk, yawning boredly with a listless face.
"What's the point of higher rank than me~? Buncha bitches who couldn't fight their way out of a wet paper bag. And I'm stuck pulling guard duty like thiiiis."
Chara-Tatta vented about the other apostles dispatched for this op to kill her boredom.
By now, they should've been prepping busily to welcome Filoria's heir as bait. But the 5th Apostle abruptly changed the three-year plan—for kidnapping some city dude.
All four apostles' blessings mobilized for that.
Including herself: 4th Apostle Kalum Bloom (mimicry blessing); 5th Sesti (past vision); 9th Kiamisa (space leap); and 13th Chara-Tatta (fire affinity).
Everyone but her used blessings for the snatch. Now Sesti and Kiamisa recovered in their rooms—least backlash on Kalum Bloom. Leaving Chara-Tatta on dull basement-2 watch.
"Like, we hid the entrance with illusion magic. Who's gonna find us? And we used blessings to grab him clean—no traces for tracking. Ughhh, so annoyiiiing~"
As Chara-Tatta grumbled, drumming the desk with her legs out of boredom—
Crack—!!
"Huh?"
She gawked at the magic stone behind her, now fully cracked.
"...Why'd that break?"
The stone powering the entrance illusion had lost function. Two reasons: mana depletion, or...
"An intruder?"
Someone forcibly dispelled—or smashed—the spell.
Chara-Tatta hurriedly infused mana into the crystal orb on her desk. It cleared, projecting the now-exposed entrance.
"...What? Already down?!"
Believers guarding the entrance and passage lay sprawled. Silver-rank equivalent in adventurer terms—all taken out in under a minute.
Chara-Tatta's mind reeled. Bored, sure—but unprepared chaos? Hard pass.
She poured mana into another orb.
"H-Here too?"
Central passage breached already. Skipping ahead, she checked the rearmost orb—stairs to the basement proper.
"This one's still f—"
Before she finished, a white blur flashed in the orb. Simultaneously, guards there collapsed.
The hazy white figure turned toward the orb's linked viewer—hooded in white robe—gazing up as she doffed it.
"Eek—?!"
Recognizing the face, Chara-Tatta shrieked and toppled backward.
"Apostle... ma'am? Are you alr—Kyaa?!"
A believer approaching to help yelped as she bolted up, knocking him down.
Ignoring him, Chara-Tatta spun toward the stairs and bellowed.
"You lot!! Drop the drawing and activate every damn magic circle you can! Rendezvous on floor 4 NOW!!"
Not waiting for replies, pale as a ghost, she bolted downstairs like a madwoman.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck...!!
The woman in the orb: sun-like hair, long scar on left cheek. No need for more.
Why the hell is that psycho bitch here?!
Ten years ago, she and her followers held a blood festival under the "holy war" banner against heretics. Petmira lost their sole underground temple; Chara-Tatta fought there.
And saw her. Ten years on, she couldn't forget.
A lone maniac butchering predecessor apostles with a blinding sword. How could she?
Why is Rapitera's Templar here?!
Known never to leave the Pope's side without orders. This was unreal; Chara-Tatta nearly fainted.
"Hurry—gotta run!!"
Newbies or not, stay and die to that lunatic. She hurled herself toward basement 5, mid-ritual.
"5th Apo—"
Death's terror forgotten, Chara-Tatta gaped, frozen.
"Eek... heeek... uhn♥"
"Uuheheee~"
"C-Cock... cock so goooood...."
Squelch-squelch-squelch—!!
"Ahhhn! Aaaahn! Uhn, ah, haaang, c-cuuuuming!! Cumming agaaain!!"
Dozens of believers sprawled, panting lewdly. On the altar, the 4th Apostle—pinned under a beast-like thrusting man—screamed in ecstasy.
"Ha... haha...?"
Chara-Tatta laughed insanely at the absurdity, then felt heavy weight on her left shoulder and turned.
"Hiiiik—?!"
There loomed the fiery-haired Templar, staring down.