The scene was that of an park. A specific location, chosen by Camille, it was decided upon that it would be the battlefield of their encounter with Aedi. Open and spacious as it were alongside some conveniently placed bodies of water that ran through it, the choice was suboptimal to say the least. Assuming that Aedi's fire did not dissipate upon contact, there was indeed the high probability that the whole area would be set ablaze. It occurred to Camille though, that there were not many other options available.

Should they choose to defend in an apartment, then they would be at a noticeable disadvantage. A handful of corners and blindspots was all Aedi needed to light one of them, and whatmore, there was no saying that she wouldn't just burn the whole place down.

Camille thought about this, nodded her head, and thought of something else. Her mind, which was still mildly unsettled by their conversation at the cafe, brought Camille to a exhale. She wasn't immature to the point where she lashed out at Molok for what he said. But she was disturbed.

Troubled over the implication of his claim of her 'youthful energy' Camille cast her eyes to the floor. Based on the common perception of how people her age were meant to act, Camille knew that she must've been a bit strange. She didn't have love, she didn't have a job, and she didn't even study either.

 

Could it be because Camille had none of those things that her mind had begun to degrade? To the point of even being perceived as childish by a literal child?

 

Morgan would never answer questions like those. She was far too lenient and passive to those around her. The worst part was that Morgan wasn't lying to save other people's feelings either. She genuinely thought Camille was a great person with little to no imperfections. Of course, since Camille only ever associated with Morgan, it meant that she lacked the outside input of others.

As if to cut off that train of thought, Camille darted her eyes to Molok.

Seated at the other end of a bush in some sort of trance or assumed meditation, the boy who put on the mask of a elongated pale man was now in the middle of his magic. If his information were true, then he was in some sort of radar mode to detect any sign of magic or magicians in general.

For all he had done and was doing though, Camille thought him less of an magician, and more of a boy. Perhaps due to the disparity in age, and the bias that came with time, Camille thought it was all very unusual. The woman to put it lightly, had no clue why he had gone so far for her even now. Even without that factor taken into examination however, his whole demeanour was far from conventional either.

Was this the standard for a magician, or was he truly distinct in that regard?

Camille had expected a greater reaction when she had questioned him in the cosplay store. A response perhaps guided more by raw emotion than anything else, she was surprised to find out that he had remained apathetic all the same.

The fact that a child of such age would act with composure and serenity even in times of battle was unheard of for her. Sure, while Camille accepted that they existed, to witness it firsthand was another matter entirely.

With a mutter of her breath, Camille 'inspected' him. Presumably to detract her mind from her issue, or presumably because Camille had relied on video games as a crutch for her own weakness, the reason was of little importance.

Camille raised an eyebrow at what she saw.

There was a multitude of information that was peculiar. The most jarring was his race. At first, Camille was unsure if humanoid was the custom for the others she had identified. But after remembering the others, she remembered that every other person had just been a human.

Was that why he hid his face all the time? Underneath the mask, was Molok some elf, demon, or some other transcendental creature? Out of all the possible alternatives, Molok being a vampire seemed the most likely.

In terms of the little superstitious information, she had over them, vampires were creatures debilitated by the sun, and him wearing robes to protect himself from just that was reasonable. However, for a supposedly supernatural creature of unparalleled power, his stats didn't match up. Camille's eyes scanned all the numbers again in hopes of further validity. And yet, deep down, she already knew that she was right.

I'm probably missing something.

That was what she convinced herself. Chances were any spell that gave him a shield or some other protection probably wouldn't be factored into his HP. With how diverse and varied magic was, Molok might've even had a spell that could auto-regenerate his body or something. His reliance on masks in the first place, meant that he could probably do just about anything. Earlier, when they fell from the building, Molok had equipped a mask that redistributed the force from their body to the floor.

Camille refused the idea that he would run in with a measly six HP alone. And she rejected the idea that something would be stupid enough to put themselves in such danger for someone like her. If Camille were in his position, she would've only picked a fight with Aedi if victory was definite.

That was just how things were. To fight for yourself is one thing, but to fight on behalf of another is a different matter entirely.

Deciding that he must've been sane of mind, Camille then proceeded about her preparations. The opportunity to get to the heart of his nature could come later, she told herself. Now was the time to finish her preparations.

Summoning her inventory, Camille pulled out a gas mask and a couple of household products. Respectively, ammonia and bleach alike, her plan was most definitely illegal. Camille, who was animated by enthusiasm connected the straps of her gas mask around her head. She imagined it must've looked pretty slick on her, considering the two circular respirators on each side and the overall aesthetic. So while the purpose behind it was purely utilitarian, at least there was some added enjoyment to it. As an extra precaution against her soon to be weapon, Camille didn't want to risk inhaling its fumes. Despite her HP, Camille figured that getting a waft of toxic chloramine gas to the face was from pleasant.

Tightened, her hand squeezed open a canister of bleach. Then, she did the same for several empty glass bottles and ammonia.

Subsequently, she poured equal parts ammonia and bleach inside each glass bottle. To be completely honest, Camille had zero clue as to whether this would work. Any information she had about its results were learned through off-handed remarks against mixing them in the event of danger.

Still, there was no harm in trying. And, the whole process was quite enjoyable too. It was as if Camille were some secret mad scientist. A genius of unparalleled gifts and destructive capability in the midst of creating their ultimate weapon of doom, it was all very reminiscent of chemistry class.

If it wasn't for the fact that Aedi literally summoned fiery snakes, Camille would have crafted a homemade flamethrower. Alas, Camille suspected that Aedi in all her blazing glory most likely had some form of resistance to the damage she dished out, so, tragic as it was, Camille would have to make do with a war crime in a bottle instead.

Once she had created four of her concoctions total, she summoned her inventory.

The fruits of her labor on screen, Camille found her whole preparation to be quite meticulous. Through acquiring turnout gear which were the clothes of firemen, a sword, brass knuckles, and several food wares, the woman had just about bought every single advantage possible. While less suited to the craft of swordsmanship then before, Camille still had trust in her skill as a sword fighter. Above all else, years of inherent training and tuning to Historical European martial arts, which long laid dormant in her, should awaken.

Back in the day, as she would fully confide, Camille had been at the top of her club. As one of the many martial arts which progressively gathered mainstream appeal, HEMA was especially well liked in England. Recognized by most as the country that held the ressurection of the legendary King Arthur and his accompanying traditions, tales of chivalry and such epic sagas were more prominent then ever. Camille who as a child had been no different, too subscribed to the ideal of such knighthood, though sad to say, nothing had ever come out of it.

It was at this time, when she lamented that a stir and motion was seen in the corner of her eye. On studying this abnormality further, Camille saw that it was Molok, who having arisen from his brooding, now approached her.

"I sense magic close to our area."

"Alright then."

"However, I suspect that the source of the spell is not Aedi."

"Okay?"

"My point being that I will go observe the source of that spell."

Camille as you would imagine was quite perplexed over the point behind his words. She was positive that he was right in his assumptions, but in doubt over what he meant to convey. Were his meaning that he would go check on a magician that was of zero relevance to the both of them?

"And what about Aedi?" Camille inquired. "You think it's alright to search for another magician while she's still after us?"

Hoping to deter or at least understand whatever it was he wanted to do, Camille challenged his words with her own statement. Should he be so reciprocating to saving others, then by that same logic, he would not abandon Camille in the event that Aedi is to appear. However, not all goes as it should go, and Molok who chose the path of least resistance, replied with no clear solution.

"I have no answer for that. All I am saying is that I will go observe the source of that spell." He replied while taking a few steps forward. "I do not mean to cause any distress, you will be safe even if you remain here." Finally finished with his clarification, the boy took flight, without so much as an extra word.

It was however, a ill-conceived attempt at escaping, as Camille who ran ahead to follow him, caught up in less then a few seconds.

"Hey, be a good boy and explain yourself, won't you?" Requested with a hint of displeasure and the sort of condescending tone you would expect from a parent, Molok had no where to go. With his arm tightly clasped within the grasp of her hand, the only choice he had was to concede.

"M-my apologies." He stuttered out, his body trembling all the while. "It is just that the matter of the magician who I detect is of great concern to me, so if you would kindly..." Molok ended, tracing his eyes alongside Camille's hand.

Yet no matter how much he would plead with his now increasingly distressed tone or body, Camille would not let go.

"Look, I'm guessing you want to go protect someone right?"

Camille felt his body freeze at that statement. Serving as the confirmation she needed for her theory, Camille produced a mental sigh in her brain.

"I'm not here to stop you from going, it's just that I would prefer you be honest and you know." She commented, an exasperated grin on her face. "Actually explain yourself."

Composed in both breath and body alike, Molok had reinstated the calmness that he had previous lost, and now turned to look Camille in the eye.

"Yes, you are right, I do wish to protect someone."

Said in the same monotone and emotionless tone as before, it was clear to Camille what she should do next.

"Alright, see? Wasn't so difficult now was it?" Camille replied, her hand releasing his arm. "Communication is important you know, plus, I wouldn't want miss out on a fight anyway."

The last part of her sentence was a lie. She wanted nothing to do with rushing in and fighting on behalf of another. Moreover, she knew nothing about how strong the magician that they would go up against were.

And yet, in an act that was seemingly against her nature, Camille chose to go along with it anyway.

While she hated to admit, Camille was beginning to see Molok as a good person.

An ultimately flawed, naive, and foolish person, but a good one nonetheless. Perhaps he would abandon his dream when he got older, or perhaps he would lose it in the face of ultimate danger, either way, it still existed at that very moment. And that was enough for Camille to have believe.

So, without nothing else to do, she urged Molok onwards. Into the direction where their enemy would lie, and into the heart of the storm itself, it would be the place where a fatal mistake would transpire.

One so critical, so detrimental in its effect, that everything that they had built up to until this moment, would come apart.