Tumultuous Fighting

What's this? An alarm? Embedded into my skin?!

Laemno collapsed on one knee as his ears seeped blood, unable to make the face on his arm stop its howl. The piercing sound made his head throb from agony, and he barely had any clarity to think.

Was it the Grace of Blossoms? Bishop Antenor? Maybe the Priestess or the Novice? It activated right when I was about to enter the underground passageway. Damn it! When did they place it in my body?

He repeatedly slammed his arm against the wall, starting to panic. Shut up! Shut up, damn it! If they didn't know my location before, they're certain of it now! Am I going to get caught this easily?

A tinge of desperation swirled with the built-up stress of his captors' arrival, pushing Laemno over the edge as he grew rash. His right hand slid into his leathery bag, finding the knife he had hidden inside beforehand.

He glanced for only a second at its blade's cold sheen before thrusting it into his left arm.

A bellow escaped his lips from the sudden jolt, yet he kept slashing the screaming face until it was ultimately silenced. Warm ichor trickled down his wounded limb after his act, growing into a sizeable puddle on the ground.

"F-Finally..." He spat between heavy breaths. "I hate this. I'm sick of the pain, suffering, and anxiety. To hell with them all!"

Laemno lifted himself with difficulty, his maimed arm dangling limply.

I'm almost there. I can feel it—the freedom, a few steps away.

A cold breeze made his reddened tunic flutter as he tightened it around his injuries, using his teeth and free hand.

Meanwhile, quick footsteps rang near the entrance, signaling that his pursuers had already caught up with him.

"I can't give up yet. I'm so close."

He braced himself, twirling a black stick between his fingers—the crafted, spell-enhancing item throbbed ominously as if it had sensed its upcoming use. Once pressed on his right leg, it melted instantly, spreading into veins of dark ooze that dug into his flesh.

A strange, malicious force shot up his thigh, squeezing his muscles and nearly crushing his bones. The overbearing sting was stifled by adrenaline, and he felt the rock crack underneath his foot.

One at a time. I can bear the pain. I can do it.

Just as the shadowy figures of his chasers looked down the stairs, Laemno lunged forward.

A crater opened at his previous location, and he flew through the air at incredible speed. The light of the aligned oil lamps flickered as he darted across the dim passageway, moving faster than a gust of wind.

—

Shortly before Laemno had reached the underground passageway.

Bishop Antenor stood before his opponent in a crumbling, destroyed room, marking the aftermath of a battle.

Adonal Virgin Maia, or whoever was disguised as her, stared at him with a devious smile. A bleeding, silvery eye shone on her forehead, adding an eerier layer to her maddened expression.

"Is the chaos outside your doing?" Antenor asked. "You Profaners made a grave mistake by attacking Priene. This won't go unanswered. Not even ash will remain once the Firmament takes ahold of your blaspheming existences."

Maia merely chuckled. "The era of false deities is no more, little Bishop. Soon enough, our Savior will return and drag them down their heavenly thrones. When that fateful day arrives, I wonder under whose divine skirt you will hide."

"Toksotis." Antenor's Mana flared in dense coils, condensing above his hand as they sculpted themselves into a bronze bow. It was embedded with countless jewels chiseled with an arrow-like sigil, glittering under the faint strands of sunlight.

"That song of yours is no magecraft from the Lurianic Sorceries," he calmly noted, ignoring her rambling. "Clearly, the Divine Capital has become a battlefield between the Henosis Seekers and the Mekkubal Order. Yet, the spell you just used belongs to the Profane Sorceries, which is the domain of the Macabre Pantomime."

He adjusted his arms in a firing posture, flickering an arrow of light into existence. "That particular Mystery would hardly organize such a tawdry affair, meaning your loyalty lies elsewhere."

"Oh well," he added. "I shall checkmate you quickly, and then you'll tell me everything you know."

Maia didn't appear threatened, crossing her arms below her breasts as she sneered.

"Are you sure you wish to waste time on me, dear Bishop?"

"What do you mean?" Antenor frowned.

The Adonal Virgin revealed three fingers, which she started lowering one after another, akin to a countdown.

"Three... Two... One..."

A mighty shriek echoed within the Inner Monastery, making the very walls tremble.

Antenor's eyes widened in shock, recognizing it as the spell he had inserted into the Celestial Offering's body.

"It seems like the Honored One has reached the exit of his silvery cage," Maia purred. "What will you do now? Turn your back to me and chase him? Or leave his fate to the Gods and ensure my capture?"

Antenor tsked in annoyance, shooting the arrow at her. The projectile, brimming with Mana, exploded as soon as it hit its target, unleashing a torrent of golden light.

It swept over the rubble and illuminated the upper floor, collapsing two-thirds of the room in its destructive wave.

"Tricky," he sighed after inspecting the damage.

Maia's body was nowhere to be seen, leaving only a resounding cackle as she vanished from Antenor's mystical senses.

—

Taking advantage of the mayhem in the Divine Capital, Nysa infiltrated the Great Sanctuary.

Her silhouette rhythmically emerged and plunged into the surrounding shadows—along the walls, underneath the rubble, below the trees; she moved like a black blur, only pausing to retrieve her breath and lessen the torment of her raiment.

This wasn't the first time she had slithered inside the Inner Monastery, though her previous attempt had required using the subterranean network so she wouldn't get noticed.

After all, even if divination didn't work against her, the monstrous magi gathered in the Luminous House could pick up on her physical presence and killing intent. The latter was also the reason she had bothered with a roundabout assassination through the Eye of Crepuscule and a specific question the Veiled Matriarch had her communicate to the Celestial Offering.

Guided by a fickle sense of familiarity and instinct, she followed the sudden shriek coming from a secluded wing of the building, stumbling on a Gilded Watch unit clustered above the stairway leading to the underground tunnels.

Although startled by her appearance, the slave warriors immediately took a fighting formation, spears, and shields raised.

As for Nysa, the first anomalies that caught her attention were the scattered corpses of other guards lying in a pool of blood. Then, it was the throbs in the flow of Mana within the temple, indicating an ongoing battle between magi.

"What's happening here?" She mumbled to herself, barely focused on the restless guards.

Her shadow expanded before they could move an inch further, covering the floor. Spikes and blades of pure darkness instantly grew upwards, skewering them in the blink of an eye.

She dispelled her magecraft the next moment, letting their impaled cadavers fall on the ground.

A mystical link formed between Nysa and their shadows, gleaning information directly from their fragmented memories.

"How odd..." Her eyebrows creased beneath her mourning veil. "A mutiny? And the Celestial Offering seems to be trying to flee the Temple of Stars."

Her glistening gaze, green due to the light of perception magecraft, locked onto the underground passageway.

She melted into its darkness a second later, chasing after her prey.