“What time is it…”
After being unconscious for several hours, Emily finally woke up completely.
The light in the cave was dim. The afternoon sun filtered through the dense layers of ancient trees, casting fragmented spots of light inside the grotto.
Her head throbbed with a splitting pain, and her throat felt as dry as if it were on fire. But what made her heart race most were her final memories before losing consciousness — the exploding flames, the blurred, swaying figures of the White-robed Men, and Villanelle’s cry of alarm.
“Villan… elle?” she rasped, attempting to move. She winced as the movement pulled at the simple bandages on her wounds, taking a sharp breath from the pain.
“Don’t move yet, Emily. You’re injured,” Villanelle’s voice came from nearby, equally thick with weary hoarseness.
She brought a waterskin to Emily’s lips. Inside was melted snow water; it was piercingly cold, but it helped clear Emily’s groggy head.
By the light trickling through the cave entrance, Emily saw Villanelle sitting not far away. However, her glasses had likely been lost during the earlier pursuit, so she couldn’t see the other girl’s face clearly.
Ignis was curled up on the side, seemingly already asleep. His small body rose and fell slightly with his shallow breathing. The previous investigation had once again drained a significant amount of his mental energy and Mana.
“How did we escape? Those White-robed Men… were they actually shaken off?” Emily coughed and asked urgently.
Villanelle remained silent for a few seconds before answering in a tired but firm tone, “It was my dragon… Back then, those cultists had us backed into a corner, and then he suddenly erupted.”
Emily rubbed her forehead, her face full of confusion. “Erupted? Was it fire? But the spellcasting levels of those people were quite high… Wait, did you just say they were cultists?”
“I’ll explain the cultists later,” Villanelle nodded, delivering her prepared story to Emily bit by bit. “It wasn’t ordinary fire. It was a black breath called… what was it called again…”
“Annihilation Breath?” Emily finished for her, her eyes flashing with shock and academic curiosity. “From what I know, that’s a mutated ability of high-rank Black Dragons. But he’s still so small… and the records never mentioned that such a young Black Dragon could…”
“I don’t know either. Perhaps a desperate sense of crisis triggered his potential.” Villanelle looked Emily directly in the eyes, showing no sign of lying.
Of course, Emily probably couldn’t see her clearly right now anyway.
“A brief awakening of bloodline power under a stress response? I suppose that’s reasonable…” Emily reluctantly accepted the explanation. “Many magical creatures indeed erupt with power far beyond their normal state to protect themselves and their kin when facing a life-or-death crisis.”
She subconsciously reached for her recording board to note the phenomenon, only to remember that everything had been abandoned during their escape. She had no choice but to give up on the idea.
“Now isn’t the time for that,” Villanelle redirected the conversation at the right moment. “Those White-robed Men weren’t ordinary kidnappers. They are… White-robed Cultists. I overheard their conversation.”
“Cultists?!” Emily’s voice rose slightly before she immediately lowered it. The little color left in her face drained away.
In the minds of those from the Empire, that word was often linked to the most insane Chaos Worship and bloodiest sacrifices. It was a term spoken with dread.
“Yes. Furthermore, their goal in kidnapping the students is to exchange us for their accomplices held in the Black Prison. The exchange is set for noon tomorrow. We aren’t the only ones; other students have been abducted by them as well.”
Villanelle shared some of the information Ignis had gathered with Emily, though she omitted the unexplainable parts — like how he had scouted using a special method or how he had been sensed by the Crow Man. Instead, she claimed she had overheard it while risking a trip outside to observe the situation.
As Emily digested the information, her scholar’s logic quickly seized the key point. “An exchange? Trading all of us for two prisoners? But… but would the Empire ever agree to such a trade?”
She felt a chill crawl up her spine.
Villanelle shook her head.
“I’m afraid not. That’s why we need to consider our next move — like sending out a… a signal to let the Empire’s rescue teams find us and get us out of here first.”
As she spoke, Villanelle suddenly realized that since her previous excuse was “overhearing while out scouting,” she shouldn’t know the exact location of the cultists’ base.
However, the information she and Ignis possessed happened to include the base’s location. To avoid slipping up, she immediately cut her words short and changed her phrasing.
Emily nodded. This was indeed the only option at the moment.
Given the Empire’s temperament, they would likely turn hostile and start a fight the moment the hostages were exchanged. If they stayed here, ‘Who knew if they would be caught in the crossfire.’
So, they had to take this risk. It all depended on whether the Empire’s rescue team could find them before the cultists did.
She struggled to sit upright, lifted Villanelle’s cloak, and reached into her clothes to check the remaining items in her inner pockets.
There were only a few basic alchemy materials and one small piece of a spare low-grade crystal, but it should be enough.
She could use these to create a simple yet effective Crystal Beacon. She would place it far away and set a delayed activation time to minimize the chance of exposing their temporary shelter.
Direct spellcasting could also transmit a message, but spells couldn’t be triggered with a delay.
“I can make a beacon, but it needs to be placed in a more open area,” Emily said.
Villanelle glanced at the still-sleeping Ignis and made a decision. “You stay here and watch over Ignis. I’ll go place it.”
“But your injuries…”
“It’s fine. They’re just superficial wounds.” Villanelle waved her hand dismissively.
Ten minutes later, Emily handed over the makeshift Crystal Beacon.
The beacon was engraved with slightly crooked Runes. The craftsmanship was crude, but as a one-time use product, it should suffice.
Villanelle took one last look at Ignis. Then, taking a deep breath, she pushed aside the cover at the cave entrance and stepped out into the snow.
The process of placing the signal beacon went more smoothly than she had imagined.
Villanelle knew of a relatively open rocky beach in the distance, which she had spotted during their escape. There were no signs of cultist activity nearby, only the rustle of dry grass in the snow as the wind blew through.
She carefully wedged the signal beacon into the leeward side of a rock and then quickly retraced her steps.
Emily had already adjusted the trigger time, setting it for one hour later. Any later and it would be sunset.
When she returned to the cave, Ignis had not yet woken up. Emily was leaning against the rock wall, waiting wearily but alertly.
The hour felt exceptionally long.
—
*Whish — boom!*
A faint magical screech echoed from the direction of the rocky beach. It was followed by a small ball of magical fire that shot high into the sky, streaking slowly across the air and leaving behind a shimmering trail of turquoise light.
Villanelle and Emily felt their hearts leap into their throats. They both hoped to be discovered by the Empire’s rescue team and feared drawing in the cultists or some other unknown danger.