The moment in Isabel’s arms had been too short. Mila still felt coldness radiating from within her. She had also stained Isabel’s attire with blood. Which wasn’t all that significant as her girl had already dirtied her blue cloak. But it showed how distracted Mila had been.

 

Despite Ugum’s efforts to return her to top condition, Mila's body still felt stiff. The responsiveness of her limbs left much to desire. It wasn’t all bad. They had managed to hunt down all the troops in the platoon they had encountered. Not one had escaped, much to her efforts.

 

They hadn’t lingered around the battle site. Mila was back in the tunnels, feeling out the path ahead. The darkness seemed neverending, but her steps never faltered.

 

The dampness on the walls seemed to dry up as Mila continued. She touched the surface, then tasted the air. It was getting warmer. She hurried further.

 

Much of the previous caution had been left behind in the path before. Mila knew they were running out of time and had to find a way to hinder the ritual - if possible.

Because currently, the Military seemed capable of doing so before them. But the Messanger’s cryptic remarks had made her reconsider.

 

Another detail weighted heavily on Mila’s mind. When she had returned to the chamber where they had fought, the noble had been still alive. Barely, but breathing. He had seen their party gather. Upon seeing them, the noble laughed before killing himself.

 

What had the noble seen that was so funny?

 

A sudden, loud and close metal-hitting-stone noise startled Mila out of her meandering thoughts. Fighting against the instinct to stand still and listen, she headed towards the sudden clamour.

 

What Mila found made her frown. Near their path was one of the shafts leading down to the very bottom of the tunnel system. The terrible noise grew harsher and louder as she snuck closer to it.

 

Then it hit her. Mila realised what the noise was. The Military was using the shaft to hasten their descent.

 

A few notable mana signatures passed her hiding spot and headed down. They were likely driving wedges into the shaft’s walls and using them to climb down in a controlled manner.

 

Or that was what Mila assumed. She didn’t dare to check, opting to turn around and search for another path not so close to danger.

 

In a way, this was good news. Stopping the ritual was still the prime objective.

 

So, when the noise in the shafts suddenly turned chaotic, Mila didn’t feel any joy. For scant moments, sounds of fighting travelled to her ears. Metal hitting metal, muffled screams and then nothing.

 

Mila lingered for a moment longer, morbidly curious about what had happened with the descending group. No further noises heading down could be heard, nor were any defenders appearing to push back.

 

In the end, Mila decided to use this path. She found her group, informed them about the fight and led them back.

 

When Viola arrived at Mila’s previous position, she began to frown. “Not good.” She sniffed the air.

 

Mila dreaded hearing what Viola had to say. “So? Do not hold us in suspense.”

 

Viola sniffed the air again while shooing them forward, past the shaft. “Smells like the seven stooges and a duo of idiots. Plus - blood and death. The wolf is there, too.”

 

“It wasn’t the defenders who killed those fighters.” Mila felt her head hurt. She looked at the Messanger, who shrugged.

 

“They won’t stop us. But they will hinder anyone who could interrupt the ritual. The Sages want to know.”

 

“Sure, whatever.” Viola continued to swallow the air. When her superior looked at her, she backpedalled. “Uh, I mean, you are probably right, Sir.”

 

Mila looked beneath her feet. So Andrew was there. What was he thinking…

 

“That fucking idiot.” Isabel was less charitable in her thoughts about their friend. “How much more can he screw up?” 

 

“Do not make it a challenge.” Mila put her palm on Isabel’s back. “He might just take it.” 

 

“Yeah. Sounds like the idiot we know.” Isabel agreed while leaning on Mila. “A little huff?”

 

“I don’t smell good.”

 

“Doesn’t matter. It will make me feel better.”

 

Mila sighed but did pull off her hood, letting Isabel bury her face in Mila’s hair. “That’s enough.” She tried to move a moment later. “You know we have to hurry.” But all things considered, her attempt to move wasn’t convincing.

 

“Mmm…”

 

Agata’s voice interrupted the intimate moment. “Possible contact in one of the side tunnels.”

 

“Bah!” Isabel straightened. “Can’t a girl have a moment?” She complained while preparing herself for battle.

 

“Don’t ‘Bah’ like that.” Mila hid her crown again. “It’s unladylike.”

 

“Is it?” These words made Isabel pause. “Maybe. Do you care?”

 

“I won’t date a savage.” Mila rose her head and walked off into the darkness.

 

“Wait! She joked, right?” Isabel asked Virr.

“How the fuck would I know?” The duelist returned a question in surprise. “Get away from me. I don’t know you.”

 

After messing with Isabel, Mila’s mood improved. She noted to herself not to make a habit of that. Isabel wouldn’t appreciate it.

 

It didn’t take long for Mila to find the possible contact Agata had mentioned. It was only a couple forward scouts, but they were from the military. She took care of them, hoping it would slow the other force down.

 

A feeble hope - not reliable at all. Mila rushed back. “We have to pick up the pace.” She explained the situation and then moved to the front of the group. 

 

Only this time, everyone stuck much closer to Mila while Agata took the rear position. They still tried to keep their steps silent, but it felt too late for that.

 

Mila half expected to encounter an ambush or another barricade at the least. But for the next seven minutes, there was nothing but distant, alien sounds - distorted by the tunnels.

 

Only then did Mila find another group of people. Just a few deserters trying to find a way out. An easy kill.

 

And then…

 

Mila raised her hand to order her party to stop. She waved for Viola to come closer. “What do you smell?” Her whispers felt too loud for the oppressive silence.

 

While the spy was taking a moment to concentrate, Mila studied the mana fluctuations. The concentration had been rising for a while now.

Mila and Viola turned their heads towards the same spot at the same time.

 

“Blood,” Viola announced. “In the walls. Flowing. From somewhere to the side.”

 

That’s what Mila felt, too. Only vaguely. There was a feeling of concentrated mana flowing in one particular spot inside the wall. “Raran, can you get to it?”  She pointed where.

 

Raran placed his hand on the wall while the party gathered around. He concentrated, trying to shape the stone, but there was little to show for his effort. The wall was barely deformed after a solid minute of trying.

 

“It won’t work.” The mage finally gave up. “The walls are reinforced, but not by the military like in the other places. No, this is years old. Decades even.”

This caught the Messenger’s attention. “Around twenty-five? Would you agree the time frame would fit?”

 

“Maybe. Probably.” Raran hesitated. “Perhaps a bit longer.”

The Messanger fell into contemplation. Mila eyed the blank in her senses with suspicion while the rest of the group looked at her. “A blood reservoir, or what constitutes for it, would make for a good target if we want to disrupt the ritual.” She spoke while thinking.

“You are the expert. Do we try?” Laura left the choice in Mila’s hands, and another moment of silence followed.

 

“Yes. It is worth a try.” Mila had to admit. “But I have to say, I doubt it is a place easy to access. Especially now.” She returned her attention to the Messanger.

 

“Not like the actual ritual place would be.” Verte gave the sign to move.

 

“But there would be actual people about to be sacrificed there.” Isabel also had something to chime in. “If… If they aren’t already dead.”

 

“They aren’t.” The Messanger somehow knew. “But not for long.” He slid just above the ground, his feet invisible under the heavy, dark cloak.

 

“Hey,” Mila moved closer to the Messanger. “Why the question about how long ago the reinforcement was made?” She had her own guesses. For one, it would prepare them for the amount of blood that they could find. If the nobles had stockpiled the sanguine liquid for so long, it was bound to be a massive amount.

 

“Mila… Do you know for how long Stilag has been a place of crime?”

 

The question was outside of Mila’s expectations. “I can’t say I do.” She waited for the figure to continue.

 

“It began around twenty-five years ago. The local government bodies changed their stances towards crime. Suddenly, everything could be bought. If you had strength, you could run free. Only the bare necessities were observed to keep the Nobles in power.”

 

Mila mulled over the words. “And at the same time, people began to vanish?” She guessed.

 

“I assume so. Not openly. The nobles weren’t so brazen up until a few days ago. No. They were smart. Still are. A mystery. The mayor back then wasn’t a great man. No. Someone else was behind it.” He muttered.

 

“You seem to know a lot,” Mila noted, not meaning anything by it.

 

“Occupational hazard.” A wry answer came immediately. “But Stilag is a mystery to me. Our attempts at getting information from here have always been problematic. Often, our people would just end up being dead. Whoever is responsible for the secrecy knows how to remain hidden. It is not a talent easily obtained.”

“Any guesses?” Mila wanted to capitalise on the moment the Messanger was talkative.

 

“None. Too many unknowns. It is a rather disagreeable situation.”

“No need to tell me about it.” Mila felt like grumbling. “No one knows anything or doesn’t want to tell anything useful.” There was a barb in her words aimed at the man.

 

“If only people talked more with each other.” The Messanger ignored the fact that he was one of the sources of the problem. “Be careful.” He added. “I’ll do everything to keep you alive and help you to escape. But when my body fails, do not be alarmed.”

 

“And what does that mean?” Mila leaned closer to the man, trying to pick up any signs that he was a living being.

But there was no answer. The Messanger glided away from Mila, leaving her with her own thoughts.

 

Or at least until Viola joined her side.

 

“What did you both talk about?”

“The history of Stilag and his probable demise.” Mila didn’t hide the topics. “What is the man anyway? Is he a man at all?”

 

“What else?” Viola shrugged.

 

“You tell me,” Mila nudged her friend. “Isn’t your nose the one capable of discerning the hidden?”

“Not everything.” Viola frowned. “I couldn’t tell anything about the ritual.”

 

“But what about the Messanger?” Mila asked but didn’t hold hope of getting an honest answer.

 

“Well, first of all, that’s a state secret.” Viola wagged her finger in Mila’s face. “And secondly, how the fuck would I know. The fu-” She forcefully stopped herself. “I mean…” Viola coughed. “My dear superior has not deemed to fill my brain with that blessed nugget of information.”

 

“Figures.” Mila tried not to be grumpy. She didn’t quite succeed.

 

At least Mila didn’t have to grumble for long. They appeared to have reached their destination.

The reinforced metal gate certainly seemed to indicate so.

 

“Right…” Virr tried to push the gate open. “How are we getting through this?”

 

The man raised a very good question. But did the party have to look at Mila for a solution? She wasn’t a toolbox with a solution for everything, dammit!