The flickering flames cast quivering shadows on the shattered stone walls, highlighting the bloodstains and charred marks with a particularly gruesome intensity.
The air was thick and heavy, saturated with the sharp stench of blood and burnt flesh, pressing down on the chest with suffocating weight.
Helos’s boots stepped across blood-soaked stone bricks, each step ringing out with a crisp sound.
The hem of her cloak dragged along the ground, its trembling shadow flickering in the firelight.
Her heart pounded violently, her breathing rapid, and her palm was already slick with cold sweat.
But beneath the concealment of her metal mask, no one could see the panic in her eyes.
She had to appear calm, had to hold everything together, just as she’d planned, right up until the very last moment.
The girl’s gaze swept over the three of them.
Julius leaned against the wall, his shoulders heaving, black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, but his eyes still sharp as ever.
Kyle was half-kneeling to support himself, a smear of blood at the corner of his lips, yet his grin remained as irreverent as always.
Selina pressed her lips tightly together, face pale, her left hand clamped over her wound, yet her gaze was as cold and hard as ice.
Helos drew a deep breath and pulled a bottle of crimson life potion from her pouch.
The glass glinted dark red in the firelight. She said nothing, simply gave it a gentle shake.
The three immediately understood.
Julius unfastened his own pouch, pulling out the potion Helos had handed him before they set out.
He wrenched out the stopper and downed the liquid in one gulp.
Bitterness spread in his throat, then a surge of heat rushed into his chest, as if rekindling an extinguished flame.
He exhaled slowly, and at last, the trembling in his sword hand stilled.
Kyle grinned, fishing out his own potion bottle.
“Ugh… this stuff really tastes awful.”
He threw back his head and drank, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, then coughed hard twice and stretched his arms, still smiling roguishly. “But I do feel a lot better.”
Selina acted with brisk efficiency, twisting off her cap and swallowing the potion in one go.
The liquid was icy cold, sliding down her throat into her stomach, and the taste made her frown involuntarily.
Yet in the next moment, she was surprised to find her life force, which had been ebbing away, recovering at a rapid pace.
She opened her mouth in shock, but couldn’t utter a word.
Next, each of the three pulled out their own vitality and focus potions.
Helos had repeatedly reminded them before the mission that they must carry these, and now, at last, their preparations had paid off.
The burning heat of the vitality potion restored strength to weakened muscles; the cooling clarity of the focus potion tightened their scattered thoughts.
Their breathing grew steady, the pallor faded from their faces.
Meanwhile, on the other side, the condition of the black-robed man was deteriorating fast.
The wound left by Kiss of Thorns was still corroding, flesh curling back, his body shuddering with every spasm.
The oppressive force of Silent Oath made the air thick as steel, forcibly suppressing his magic so that he could only let out guttural, indistinct growls.
His eyes were clouded, his movements sluggish; each attempt to raise his hands seemed shackled by invisible chains, making him appear even more clumsy.
“You fall back.”
Julius spoke in a low, firm voice to the girl.
Helos, however, didn’t move.
It wasn’t that she had other ideas—she was simply too nervous to budge.
Her legs trembled beneath her cloak, her fingertips tightened with anxiety, yet she lifted her chin, the mask’s cold reflection magnifying her stubbornness.
Just then, the black-robed man suddenly let out a hoarse roar and staggered forward in a lunge.
His speed was sluggish, his movements stiff, but that desperate madness pulled the air taut once more.
Julius stepped forward in a flash, his blade catching the firelight in a blinding flash of cold steel.
Sweat trickled down his jaw, but his gaze was unshakable.
“Hah!”
The longsword thrust straight out.
The blade pierced the man’s chest; a mist of blood blossomed silently in the stillness.
The black-robed man’s body convulsed violently, his hands jerking upward before going completely limp.
His gaze went empty in an instant, mouth frozen mid-cry as he collapsed into the spreading pool of blood.
It was as if the warehouse air had finally been freed from its restraints.
The oppressive weight lifted, the flames burned steady, and the shadows fell docile once more.
Julius slowly withdrew his sword, flicked the blood from the blade, and turned to Helos.
“You all right?”
“I-I’m fine! Really, what could possibly happen to me? R-right?”
Helos abruptly turned her head away, her voice sounding stubborn, but the tremor in her tone was unmistakable—she clearly didn’t sound fine at all.
She mumbled under her breath:
“Shouldn’t you be asking if you’re all right first…?”
The mask hid her expression, but the tips of her ears had already turned red.
That was close.
She’d only snuck along to witness things firsthand, never expecting to be swept up in a battle herself.
Outside the warehouse, she’d seen Julius pinned down and unable to move, her heart seizing with fear as her feet carried her closer before she realized it.
By the time she came to her senses, she was already at the swirling black mist by the warehouse doors.
She certainly hadn’t expected that barrier, which looked so solid, to shatter so easily.
For a split second, she hadn’t even decided how she was going to rescue them.
And then, the black-robed man rushed right up and handed her the chance.
How was this any different from the last 1v1 clutch round in some FPS, where you’re the last one standing, you take out the enemy’s first man without knowing what you’re doing, and then the last guy rushes right into your crosshairs and, in your panic, you fire instinctively—and a lucky bullet lands right on his head?
Kyle let out a long breath and tossed his empty bottle onto the ground, where it clattered with a sharp ring.
He managed a small smile:
“Phew… That was way too close. Lucky for us you were here, Second Miss. Otherwise, the three of us would be flat on our backs right now.”
“Hmph, I was just helping you out on a whim, that’s all.”
Helos lifted her chin, her voice a little stiff. “Just remember to settle the rescue fee when we get back!”
Selina crouched to examine the corpse, peeling back the ragged sleeve.
Black arcane marks curled along the skin, like some kind of sigil.
She nodded.
“That’s right, he’s the one who ran away before.”
Kyle spread his hands and shrugged.
“Bit of a bumpy ride, but at least we got the outcome we wanted, right?”
Helos finally let out a sigh of relief and glanced down at her pouch.
The number of potions had clearly diminished, especially those bottles of Kiss of Thorns, which she’d brewed at the last minute.
Still, this could be counted as a gain; at least now she knew how effective Kiss of Thorns really was.
By the way, those potion bottles looked pretty sturdy, but turned out to be surprisingly fragile.
She’d barely used any force and smashed one right on that cultist’s face.
“Guess I’ll have to brew a new batch when we get back…”
Kyle leaned in at just the right moment.
“Need a hand? I could run errands, pick up some supplies or something.”
“Perfect, I’m short on materials anyway.”
Helos blinked instantly.
But Julius stepped between them, blocking the view.
“I’ll handle these little chores myself.”
Kyle looked at the black-haired boy’s earnest gaze, raised both hands, and put on an innocent expression. “Fine, fine, you do it. I won’t steal your credit.”
Julius nodded, sheathing his sword, his gaze sweeping solemnly around the warehouse.
“There was quite a commotion here. We might draw more enemies, so let’s stay alert.”
The firelight flickered, casting their shadows on the walls.
The four of them stood silent for a while, only the sound of their breathing echoing in the warehouse.
The battle was over, but the tension lingering in the air had yet to fully dissipate.
After all, their mission was to cut off the enemy’s retreat.
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