270 A Citizen of Orma

Although everyone's Divine Sense was active to detect possible approaching enemies, Francesca had decided to use an object that could improve their condition.

Mirror of Desire:

Range of action: 20 kilometres

Effect: detects all warriors below Immortality, showing their Mana composition

In what appeared to be a simple mirror, many luminous shapes appeared. Most of them belonged to ordinary citizens, some were of warriors still engaged in the battle; but, among these, there was a dozen that did not bode well, detected outside the sphere of action of Divine Sense or Helial's Perception.

At first she wasn't sure but, after observing their movements for a few minutes, Francesca was convinced that they were following them.

They were warriors roughly in the Late Stage of the Seventh Phase and even more dangerous was the composition of Mana in one of them, the one leading the formation.

The Mirror showed acid green and purple Mana that could only belong to one person: Comodo. After more than a year of absence, he had chosen to show up at the least suitable time of all. And, what's more, he seemed to be following them.

An overwhelming sensation of terror enveloped her limbs.

Comodo.

Comodo was chasing them!

Damn, it wasn't going to be easy to escape those monsters. If Comodo managed to take Helial and Circe, he would probably have torn them both to shreds. Not to mention Vlad! Not that Comodo was really interested in the half-goblin and his mad passion for Francesca, but the Princess knew her future spouse enough to know his sadistic taste for torture.

If they faced him, they would all die.

Francesca didn't know what to do.

The Mirror of Desire was a special object, an heirloom that was passed down from generation to generation, whose existence could not be revealed to anyone.

How would she explain to Helial and the others that enemies impossible to defeat were pursuing them, without mentioning the Mirror of Desire?

She squeezed its edges desperately.

Still looking at the reflective surface, she saw the poisonous shape of Comodo turn around the corner they had just passed. Yet another proof that he was following them.

Moving her gaze to the area in front of them, Francesca saw the shapes of Mana of the warriors that surrounded the walls. None of them was over the Fifth Phase. Whatever direction they took, their group would be able to defeat them.

Circe had repeatedly told her that it would not be necessary to marry Comodo to put an end to Orma's conflicts. He had told her that, once she became Queen by law, she would kick her father and Aure in the ass, effectively establishing a matriarchy.

Sure, Circe had also made several obscene claims about the mandatory use of toy-boys under her reign, but those claims were largely ignored.

And when she trained with Sidra, Lev and Zion, trying to carry out shadow assassinations to catch them off guard, she felt like another person.

Francesca felt a wave of heat save her from the chill of pure terror as she watched her companions.

Close to them, she felt like a citizen of Orma, not their Princess.

And all this she owed to Circe.

…

A few years earlier

A little girl was training alone in the forest. Her greenish skin was beaded with sweat and the crude tunic she wore covered even her face, with an exaggeratedly long neck.

The two daggers in her hands danced at the speed of light, leaving deep scars on the trunks of the trees she encountered along her path.

Each tree had a red mark to indicate a target. As she accelerated more and more she lost precision, ending up cutting branches or unmarked parts of the bark.

She never seemed to get tired of attacking at full speed and sweating profusely. By now the stench she emanated suggested that she had been training for more than a few hours. She was covered from head to toe with splinters and mud.

Who could ever have recognized the Princess of Orma, seeing her in those conditions?

In fact, that was what Francesca hoped for. She hoped not to be recognized.

It was not a simple matter of being the Princess of an entire people, of self-pitying for her fate. She had already accepted the duties that came with her social status, but she had also decided to create herself a second life. Sooner or later she would have to abandon it, but it wasn't time yet.

"Still here?" a voice asked from behind her, taking her by surprise.

Two firm hands gripped her breasts, squeezing them violently.

"CIRCE!" Francesca screamed, turning and slashing wildly. But the two blades hit nothing but air.

"Ahahahah! More and more naive. You hoped I was Vlad, ah bitch!"

Francesca's face became bright red to the tips of her ears. If the collar of her tunic hadn't covered her neck too, Circe would have noticed that it too had turned completely red.

"Why did you come here ?!" Francesca screamed, beside herself.

Francesca had always lived in the Royal Palace, surrounded by luxury and good manners. She couldn't imagine Circe could treat her in such a shameless way. And yet, despite her constant assaults of the Witch and her persecutions, after all, the Princess of Orma appreciated the treatment reserved for her by the Witch.

For Circe, Francesca was just a talented Assassin, someone to pester from time to time. For Francesca, Circe was much more. Circe was a friend.

"After the trial the other day I don't think there's much to do for a while," laughed the Witch, "I think I need to let go of some bad thoughts."

Francesca knew very well what Circe was talking about.

A few months ago, a knight in pitch-black armour had appeared out of nowhere, an unprecedented monster whose talent had made even the academy's big boys shiver. Crispio himself had stepped forward to congratulate him.

That fellow, Pseudonym, had taken the entrance test for the Royal Academy and had formed more Mana steps than anyone else, even surpassing Circe and reaching the Temple of the Black Phoenix. Until then no one, not even Cesar, had been able to create so many steps to reach the Temple.

Circe had created a frightening number of steps, ninety-one, enough to make all her peers gasp. But, in the end, the Witch had been defeated by the black knight. For the Goblin girl, used to being the strongest and most talented of her generation, it had been a big blow to morale. At the moment, Circe needed to understand where her life was headed after encountering this crossroads.

"I don't think Pseudonym is stronger than you, he was just lucky", Francesca tried to console her, in a very clumsy way.

Circe gave herself a long laugh, after looking her in the eyes for a long time.

"Luck? I thought about it too, but I changed my mind after fighting him, at my request. And I can tell you that, neither in one case nor in the other, luck played a fundamental role. "

Gosh. Francesca had just been dazed. Pseudonym had fought against Circe? And Circe ...

"Yes", Circe answered the question that had stopped on Francesca's lips, "I lost. And don't think that there have been very impressive exchanges on the part of both. Pseudonym completely destroyed all of my Skills, rendering them all ineffective. No one had ever made my Elemental style useless. Using different elements and tactics should bring anyone to their knees. Even the greatest genius should have some trouble fighting me. "

"And yet", continued the Witch, after a moment's pause, "there was no game. Its black blades pierced every Ability of mine, destroying it even before it could attack him. He was fast, strong ... terribly powerful. "

Circe didn't sound so low, but Francesca could clearly hear something cracked inside her voice.

Approaching her, this time she wore a smile.

He put a hand on the Witch's shoulder, winking at her.

There was not much more to say. Even if they were not yet very connected to each other, with a few gestures they could understand each other anyway. Sometimes silence can say more than a lot of words.

The two girls had different stories behind them, but their respective positions had put them in a rather narrow corner of life. Now, Circe had found herself in the same corner that Francesca had been staring at for years. They both knew that, from then on, action would be needed, and nothing else.

…

Placing a hand on her heart, Francesca made her decision.

She looked around, looking at Helial, Lev, Sidra, and Zion. Her three companions were on alert, ready to react to any threat. Having a monster like Helial by their side hadn't undermined all their certainties yet. They had always been the weakest, even by Circe's side, but that hadn't stopped them from putting their heart and soul into everything they did.

Francesca moved her eyes back to the Mirror, sighing and smiling.

She was going to be the one to stop Comodo, one way or another.