Chapter 478 - A name taken

Evelyne stared at her sister’s back, even as her eyelids threatened to close and her legs tried to give way beneath her.

“T-The Revenant Flame,” one of the other mages whispered in disbelief.

“That was a true Primordial spell,” someone else said.

Evelyne was just as stunned, even though she knew the truth behind the spell Scarlett had used. She knew her sister had cast it through an artifact. She knew Scarlett couldn’t cast any real spells without one.

That did nothing to make what she had just witnessed less awe-inspiring.

Scarlett had once told Evelyne about seeing her teacher use this spell to save her and her companions. Now Evelyne could perfectly imagine what her sister must have felt at the time.

As the steam and mist over Rellaria Lake slowly thinned, the afterimages of the titanic beast became visible.

Blurred, difficult-to-perceive sections of its shape still hung above the waters, stained orange-red and permanently fixed in the instant Scarlett’s flames had destroyed them. Evelyne’s eyes struggled to follow their edges, but unlike the hollow creature itself, these marks didn’t shift or reform.

Scarlett turned and met Evelyne’s gaze.

Evelyne could tell from the sweat on the woman’s brow alone how much the spell had taken from her. If Scarlett had possessed even a sliver of mana to spare, she probably would have spent it removing that sweat before doing anything else.

The fact that she was still standing was probably close to a miracle, but she refused to let it show.

“Yamina,” Scarlett said. “How is she?”

“She’s uninjured,” the wizard supporting Evelyne answered. “There is some strain on her mana channels, but nothing permanent. I’m impressed you managed to share the burden, though. What did you call that? A Stillwork?”

“Yes. Though I would not recommend attempting it yourself. It is far from safe.”

“I could tell.”

Scarlett took one step forward and almost stumbled, but caught herself.

Evelyne nearly called out, only to find that her mouth wasn’t obeying her. She also realised that her legs had already failed her, and that Yamina was the only reason she remained standing.

Scarlett reached into a pouch fastened at her waist. Evelyne only then noticed that her sister was no longer wearing the ceremonial gown from earlier.

She drew out a glowing potion and drank it, then handed another to Yamina.

“Have her drink this.”

Yamina nodded.

Evelyne could do little more than watch as the wizard gently parted her lips and fed her the potion a little at a time.

It was slow, and nowhere near enough to overcome the painful exhaustion weighing on Evelyne’s body all the way to the core. But a thin thread of vigour began seeping back into her limbs, easing some of the weight pressing down on her eyelids.

Meanwhile, Scarlett turned towards the edge of the rampart as two figures flew in their direction. A moment later, Dean Godwin and Lady Blackwood settled on the bronze-red stone in front of her.

“Baroness Hartford,” Dean Godwin said. “That was quite the showing. I am both amazed and extremely thankful for your assistance.”

The older man ran a hand through his silver-streaked beard, which was currently drenched. A brief curl of wind passed through it and stripped most of the moisture away.

“As ever, you appear determined to ensure that every event ends with you as the protagonist claiming all the attention,” Lady Blackwood added with a light scoff.

She merely pressed the butt of her staff against the ground, and the water clinging to her dark hair and dress vanished.

“You are welcome, Dean,” Scarlett replied. “And it is far from always a choice, Lady Blackwood.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not.”

“That aside, ladies.” Dean Godwin stepped past Scarlett, offering a nod to Yamina and Evelyne as he approached the edge overlooking the court. “The immediate situation appears to have been brought under control thanks to the Baroness. But the question remains of what we just experienced. Never before have I encountered a threat of this nature. Are any of you familiar with it?”

“I am not,” Lady Blackwood said, joining him.

Scarlett moved to stand beside them.

“I may be, but I am not certain. Yamina suspects that this was an attack carried out by an enemy utilising a phenomenon similar to the reflections found within the Hall of Echoes on the Rising Isle. However, this was clearly different from anything previously observed there.”

“Is that true, Ward?” Dean Godwin looked towards Yamina.

The purple-haired woman nodded and began helping Evelyne closer to the edge.

“Yes, but I believe the theoretical discussion will have to wait. From the look of things, many of those taken away by this phenomenon are now in need of assistance, and we should help restore order.”

Evelyne’s gaze moved to the court below.

People were calling for help everywhere.

All of the hollow entities appeared to have been destroyed by Scarlett’s spell, and no more seemed to be emerging, but the damage had already been done.

Just then, a bright light flared to life near one corner of the court and spread outwards, covering almost a fifth of the area within its radius. At its centre, Evelyne thought she recognised Deacon Abram.

Relief passed through her.

She had thought the priest sacrificed himself for her.

According to Scarlett, he was most likely one of the most capable healers in the empire, so hopefully, there would be no more unnecessary deaths with him and several other deacons present.

As if in response, more fields of the Followers’ golden invocations appeared across the court, though none were quite as large.

“Well, helping people is all well and good,” Lady Blackwood said dryly, “but I am more concerned with what actually matters to those of us who have spent months preparing for today.”

The woman peered up towards the sky.

“Hmm.” Dean Godwin released a surprised sound. “It would seem the barrier is still standing.”

Lady Blackwood showed an odd smile.

“How convenient.”

A light furrow appeared on Dean Godwin’s brow.

“The barrier was designed to remain functional even if several pylons were destroyed, but we have yet to couple it to Bridgespell’s network. This is strange. I suppose it’s possible that the Kilnstones acted as more powerful stabilisers than we anticipated. They should remain connected to the palace core through the same aetheric conduit that feeds the Assembly, so perhaps a sympathetic resonance formed along that connection and reinforced the barrier lattice.”

“Perhaps,” was all Lady Blackwood said.

The woman’s smile only grew odder.

Evelyne didn’t like it.

Even if Scarlett hadn’t shared the woman’s real identity, Evelyne doubted she would have.

“The two of you may feel free to hypothesise about that if you wish,” Scarlett said.

Her voice had suddenly turned severe.

Her eyes were fixed on a stretch of the court below.

“In the meantime, I believe an unforeseen situation is unfolding that requires my attention. If it is not addressed, whether the barrier remains may soon be irrelevant.”

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A cloud of mist wrapped around her, and then she was gone.

Once more, Leon was a failure.

He had failed to uphold his sworn duty as a knight. He had been unable to do anything but stand there and allow his liege to face his end.

Because he lacked the strength.

And perhaps because he lacked the conviction.

The thought sat heavily inside him. But bitter as that truth was, there was something more immediate standing before him.

The court around Leon had descended into a confusion of movement and noise. People called out for missing companions. The injured cried for help. Knights and guards pushed through the crowds, attempting to establish order, while mages cast spells to heal, search, contain, and sometimes for purposes Leon couldn’t discern at all.

None of it held his attention.

The leather beneath his gauntlets creaked as he adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword. Every part of his body remained ready to move. His aura pressed against the limits of his control, waiting to be released, but he didn’t dare let it rise fully.

Dame Iyana stood beside him.

She seemed nearly as tense as he was.

In front of them was Vail.

She observed the confusion with a strange mixture of interest and indifference. Her gaze passed over the people nearby, lingering briefly on the knights, mages, and priests, but none of them held her attention for long. She seemed more interested in the remnants of the hollow entities burned into the air by those terrifying flames.

Her appearance still had the same wildness as when Leon first saw her. Her dark clothing was torn, and her violet hair hung in a tangled fall around the dull silver growths along her neck and jaw. But there was no trace of that wildness left in her demeanour. It was like the rage and violence she’d carried in that other place had truly been nothing more than tools, discarded the moment she no longer needed them.

And now she was here with them.

People hadn’t realised what stood among them yet.

Sir Watkins and Sir Elliott—both knights Leon had known and trained with for years—were helping move a group of injured guests nearby when they noticed Leon.

Then their eyes widened in shock as they saw Vail.

Sir Watkins’ hand went immediately to the sword at his side. Sir Elliott stiffened.

Leon couldn’t fault either man’s reaction.

Vail wasn’t making any effort to announce her presence, but once a person became aware of her, it was impossible not to feel the cold warning travelling down the spine.

The woman stirred something primitive in those around her. A fear Leon couldn’t properly name.

She moved.

It was only one step. She didn’t disappear into a blur, and there was no sudden release of force.

Leon’s aura still climbed on instinct, and gold light traced the edge of his sword.

Vail stopped and sent a mildly indifferent glance in his direction.

The look she gave Dame Iyana held slightly more regard.

Sir Watkins and Sir Elliott stretched out their arms and began urging the nearby guests away. Gradually, the space surrounding Vail cleared as more people recognised the threat standing in their midst.

The two knights then joined Leon and Dame Iyana, spreading out to partially surround Vail.

Several mages in the robes of the Ustrum Assembly and Elystead Tower stopped what they were doing and joined them. One of the Followers’ deacons, his golden mask cracked along one side, joined them as well.

Awareness of the woman seemed to move through the court in a quiet wave. Voices nearby lowered and movements slowed, while those capable of fighting drew closer and those who couldn’t were hurried away.

Leon wanted to order anyone weaker than him to stand back. But he knew all too well that there was nowhere in sight that was truly safe.

Some of the tension left his shoulders when he spotted Captain Crowder pushing through the crowd. The man’s armour was scratched and darkened in several places, and his face looked worn, but he appeared to be in one piece.

A deeper sense of relief passed through Leon when Dame Leandra appeared beside Dame Iyana.

The Third Sword’s left arm still hung limp at her side. Entire sections of her white-gold armour were missing, and dried blood covered part of her neck beneath the damaged gorget.

But she was alive.

That was more than Leon had dared hope for.

Vail simply watched as more forces gathered around her.

“Is that the one they call Vail?” Captain Crowder asked as he joined Leon.

His voice was grim, and his gaze never left the violet-haired woman.

“Yes, Captain,” Leon replied.

“Was she responsible for this?”

Leon hesitated.

“…I don’t know for sure.”

“Hmph.”

Captain Crowder stepped forward until he stood in front of Leon, sword sheathed but one hand resting on its hilt.

“Stand down,” he ordered. “If you surrender without resistance, you might be spared.”

Vail studied him.

“You are strong,” she said. “What is your name?”

The captain was silent for a moment.

“Grimbald Crowder. Captain of the Imperial Solar Knights.”

Vail nodded. “I am Vail Nejothreb Terlizzi Titus Kolzryrreg.”

Leon shifted closer. “Captain, be careful.”

Crowder glanced back at him.

“I know how she operates,” the man said. He turned his attention to Vail again. “Nametaker, your strength is recognised by the empire. But there is no meaning in throwing away your life here. Many of our mightiest are gathered in this court. You cannot defeat us all.”

Even as he spoke, another figure pushed through the cluster of mages gathering at the edge of the open space. An older man in the robes of the Ustrum Assembly. Blood ran down one side of his face, and his eye was covered by a piece of fabric, but it didn’t hide the rage in his expression.

Arch Wizard Ainsworth.

They now had two members of the Royal Guard present. Nearly a quarter of the Solar Knights as well, along with a significant number of mages, one arch wizard, and a deacon of the Followers.

Depending on who had survived the events, there might be three more arch mages somewhere within reach, three additional members of the Royal Guard, several deacons, and dozens of other notable warriors.

They also stood within Dawnlight Palace.

Leon couldn’t tell whether its defensive enchantments were still functional, but even without them, a considerable portion of the empire’s strength had gathered in this one place.

Many of them were injured. Even more were exhausted. But with this many of them—

Leon watched Vail closely.

She had fought three of His Majesty’s Swords at once and still held the advantage. She was undoubtedly among the most dangerous foes the empire could face.

Even so, Leon couldn’t see a path to victory for her here. Not against all of this.

What worried him was how much they would have to sacrifice before she fell.

How many Solar Knights?

How many Royal Guards?

Would an arch mage survive if Vail reached them before they could cast?

And would that sacrifice be worthwhile if it removed one of the Cabal’s most dangerous agents from the world?

Vail’s eyes moved from Captain Crowder, drifting across the faces and forms of those surrounding her. Many looked away when her gaze reached them.

“So many ants,” she said.

“They will be enough to bring you down,” the captain replied. “Do you genuinely believe you can face all of us?”

Vail turned back to him.

Her head tilted slightly to one side, then she shook it.

“No. I would lose.”

“Then surrender.”

“No.”

The captain’s face turned grim. A low breath left him.

“I had hoped you valued your life above the profane ambitions of the Tribe of Sin. Even with your affiliations, I took you for a warrior.” His fingers closed around his sword as he drew it. “It’s a shame that you will meet your end surrounded and alone.”

“I will not.”

“No. You will—”

“I am Vail Nejothreb Terlizzi Titus Kolzryrreg.”

Her voice cracked through the court.

All noise around them vanished.

It wasn’t silence. Leon could still hear distant cries and the movement of people across stone.

But every sound suddenly seemed unimportant.

“Consider yourselves fortunate. I can’t remember when I last gave of myself.”

Vail’s violet hair lifted from her shoulders, stirred by an unseen current. The colour drained from it strand by strand until the tangled locks shone with the dull lustre of tarnished silver. Dark veins spread from beneath the scale-like growths along her jaw. They travelled across her throat and up the sides of her face, branching beneath her skin like cracks through stone.

Until then, Vail’s presence had felt like quiet danger. Like a predator choosing not to strike.

That was gone.

Something else stood before them now. Something so far beyond Leon that his aura recoiled inside him.

The world itself trembled.

His heart seemed to stop between one beat and the next, and he could only stare as one thought drove everything else from his mind.

They couldn’t fight that.

Not together.

Not with every knight and mage in the palace.

There was nothing that could.

Vail’s eyes burned silver.

She lifted one hand above her head. Darkness gathered against her palm, compressing into a narrow shape that lengthened through the air. The beginnings of a weapon. A blade or spear formed from the memory of something that swallowed the light around it.

“I am Vail Nejothreb Terlizzi Titus.”

She called her name like a chant.

“Your days will end by my hand—”

“Stop.”

Another voice cut across hers.

Vail went still.

Her head turned.

From the corner of his eye, Leon saw a woman step into the open space surrounding Vail.

Scarlett.

She walked beneath Vail’s gaze without slowing and stopped several paces away, meeting those silver eyes without hesitation.

“Cease this now,” Scarlett said, “and we will permit you to leave without a fight.”

Vail’s eyes narrowed.

“You are…”

“Scarlett Olgolzkreh Hartford.”

Surprise crossed her face.

Leon stared at Scarlett.

What was she—?

“You have expended one of your names today, Nametaker,” Scarlett continued. “If you leave without further violence, I will grant you one of mine as reparation.”

Vail watched her with open suspicion.

“You killed Olgolzkreh?”

“Yes.”

Scarlett’s expression didn’t change.

Vail was silent.

Her hand remained raised, the darkness still gathered above it. Several long seconds passed.

“Hartford…” The woman seemed to taste the name. “We have met before.”

A faint frown touched Scarlett’s brow.

“We have not.”

“No.” Vail’s gaze sharpened. “We have. I can feel it.”

“…I see,” Scarlett said. “Then perhaps we have. Regardless, do you accept my offer?”

“Why should I?”

“Because of the name I am offering. It is no longer yours to take by any other means.”

Vail kept watching her.

Then she closed her hand.

The darkness gathered above it collapsed into nothing.

Her arm lowered.

Leon didn’t see her move, but suddenly her fingers were locked around Scarlett’s throat.

“You are that woman,” Vail said quietly, studying Scarlett’s face from a breath away. “Vior was a fool to underestimate you.”

Her other hand blurred forward. The fingers passed into Scarlett’s abdomen.

Leon’s eyes widened.

The pressure holding his body broke, and aura surged towards his legs.

Vail had already withdrawn her hand. She released Scarlett and turned as the woman crumpled towards the stone.

Leon moved forward, but Vail’s silver eyes snapped to him before his foot touched down.

His aura locked inside him.

For several breaths, she simply watched him. Then her gaze moved across the knights, mages, and guards surrounding her.

The stone cracked beneath her feet.

A silvery line tore through the court and vanished beyond the palace grounds. The blast of displaced air struck a heartbeat later, sending dust and loose fragments of stone skittering in every direction.

The force pinning Leon in place disappeared. His breath returned in a sharp gasp. He drove aura into his legs and crossed the distance to Scarlett before the dust had settled. Dropping beside her, he caught her shoulder and carefully turned her onto her back.

His gaze went immediately to her abdomen.

There was no blood.

No tear in her clothing.

No wound at all.

Leon stared for a moment before looking to Scarlett’s face. Her eyes were closed. Exhaustion had drawn most of the colour from her features, and her breathing was shallow, but she didn’t look injured.

Footsteps approached from behind as Dame Iyana arrived at his side.

“Sir Leon,” she said. “We need to speak with her.”