Thirty-Six

'Five men,' Rose thought.

They all had on similar black, leather, outfits that looked like riot-gear. All of their faces were also similarly behind helmets with glass eye protectors. In addition, they wielded the same weapons; Pulse Rifles—the kind that fired a lot of rounds in short successions.

"Put your hands into the air! Step away from the homunculus!" One of the men ordered as they tapped the orb on the side of their weapons.

Noticing the shifting of mana, Rose asked Mare, "Can you fight, at all?"

"I have a spirit."

"Is it helpful in this situation?"

"Ha—Not right now, no. I would have fought the other men if I could."

". . ."

"Are you two deaf?!"

Rose removed her emblem and tossed it to the girl. "Then, take care of yourself at least, right?"

"That I can do, no problem!" Mare nodded. "I just need attention away from me for a few seconds."

Rose took the pulse pistol from her thigh.

"Fire!"

That action signaled defiance, and a rain of pulses came.

Rose swung her weapon.

Flames quenched the road, sliding forward.

"Back away into the main road, keep her pinned down! Activate your mana shields!" Orders came with the torrent as the men moved, a thin film of blue popped onto their bodies, and their weapons still aimed at the alleyway.

These men had not been caught by surprise like the previous four, but. . .

'They can't hit what they can't see,' She thought.

Her mind latched onto the Mana in the air. The trajectory, the speed, the very make of the pulses came to her as she hefted her blade and slashed at them. They were already wild thanks to the flames—most hitting the surrounding shacks.

Her weapon came to her face, taking the brunt of any that came towards it as her left arm blocked her chest. The rest, however, landed on her body.

She didn't need to block nor dodge them all, that was impossible, just enough to protect her brain and her core. If enough pulses were to go through either one, she could be brought down.

She allowed some damage to come to her body. Gritting her teeth amidst the pain of the pulses.

When she stepped out of the alley, a voice boomed.

"Formation V."

'?'

The men fell into action, surrounding her. Her eyes scanned, watching the quick three taps on the weapons' sides—she jumped.

A wave of blue mana blasted the area she had just leapt from. Within the air, Rose tapped her pistol twice and aimed down as her eyes blinked—then focused.

She pulled the trigger. Once, twice, thrice, and a fourth time. A trail of pulses flew and smacked into a mana shield.

"What the fu—"

Blood spurted and one of the men fell down with a hole in his head.

She landed on her feet, recognized the main road of the slums, and flashed forward.

Mana shields—at least lower grade ones—weakened significantly for a few seconds if the same area was pierced repeatedly. Thanks to her natural body, and with the passive <Igris> gave to her, that wasn't so hard to do to a stationary target. She might not be the best, but, with a month of sparring against Samuel, a month of continued hunts, and a mouth of experiences, memories, and battles she remembered perfectly to the final details—she was strong.

Her weapon burned orange, ripping and tearing through thin blue before taking the head of another militant.

The remaining three jumped back and aimed once more with their muzzles. Rose slashed her sword one more time, cutting a pulse rifle in half, and dragging the closest man to her front as her sword pierced through his back.

A scream rang and two booms of blue shot the male and her blade lit in flames, consuming him.

As she threw him aside and ran forward, another command was thrown.

"Switch to close combat!"

She had reached a range where guns were meaningless. Slabs of metal came to their hands and blue blades hot out.

'Oh?' Rose thought, her interest piqued slightly.

Those weapons were not laser swords and certainly did not vibrate with friction nor heat to be called such. They were the lower-grade mana blades, mass produced and cheaper, similar to the one Shana had wielded.

As she watched them slash out, and the blade of the weapons squirm, she realized she was right on the mark with a chuckle.

Her eyes jumped around, scanning the array of mana blades heading her way like a scattered maze.

It was laughable.

The patterns of the hovering blades may be different but she remembered the motions, she remembered the speed and flexibility her body needed to dodge through the narrow paths. She could not fail when facing something like that twice.

Her figure moved with a grace that shocked the men. Parts of her blade nudged blades of mana out of the way here, and out of the way there; the rest of her body slipped past like a fish in water.

"!!"

When she came out of the other end, <Ingris> had already completed a swing, looping off a head, and falling down onto the other individual as she stepped forward.

The militant turned to look, raising the slab of metal in an effort to block—the weapon was already materializing back in place—her blade merely stopped in the air—then jumped to the other side with a slash.

Yet.

A spark fell into the air as her sword embedded into his palm. The gloves of his leather armor ripped to shreds, and he caught the blade as a silver aura washed over him and blood leaked from his hand.

'A spirit!'

Rose jumped back.

The man chuckled, raising his rifle, "Gear or not, you're dead."

Her eyes looked over his body and the small pieces of skin she could see. By the looks of it, the spirit he was using increased his defensive might to a level her weapon couldn't fully cut through in one slash.

The heat of her blade increased as its orange hue leapt up to red with smoke seeping out. It didn't matter if she couldn't cut through it. . .

'I'll burn through.'

Yet, before anyone of the two could move—his shadow squirmed.

"Hmm?"

The militant looked down.

A person appeared behind him, a dagger gleamed and struck down. There was gurgling, the silver aura did nothing to stop the weapon as it pierced the man's neck and poked out of the other side. The weapon slid back and he fell down in a pool of blood.

A shadow blurred and soon, the figure of Mare stepped out with a smile.

"As I said, I only needed rest for my spirit to recover, and attention away from me for a moment."

The girl grinned, facing Rose as she flipped the bloodied dagger in her hand. It looked silver and metallic, but Rose noticed the small orb at its hilt and a thin film of mana coating its very tip. The aura it gave off was simple: Sharp.

'Is it vibrating?' She thought.

That could only be it. Differing from <Igris>, which could burn through mana shields, that weapon likely vibrated mana at such an intensity that it pierced through even metal—and the man's ace. How much would it have cost? She had no idea.

"Like my mother, the body used to make me was a [Hollow]. A normal person could only slightly blend into the dark with the shadow wolf spirit; I can turn into the beast itself and merge with shadows to stalk the night."

Mare caught the dagger and hooked it into the small sheath at her thigh. For a moment, Rose saw crimson eyes above the girl's head.

"I had used its energy up previously." Mare bowed. "Thank you for saving me."

She stood back up.

"I think it's best we run now, then?" The info-broker smiled. Clearly, she didn't want to have to deal with more pursuers.

Rose's core hummed as she decided to look into Spirits in the future, and maybe acquire one herself.

As the girls hopped into the dune-buggy, the pad of the now-dead man stopped blinking.