"Are you sure we should talk to them anyway?"
"We have to try. Our leader told us to make this alliance happen."
As Galahard walked ahead, Lyria felt like sighing. Sicra, who was the leader of that mission, simply wore a thoughtful expression as she let him take the lead for a moment.
"Lady Sicra…"
"He's right, Lyria. At the very least, we should try."
The three entered that castle, which didn't even have guards at the entrance. It seemed those idiots were stubborn. Everyone in the cults knew that evil gods were not truly allies. They might even fight together, but if they had the chance to kill the other, they would do it without hesitation, and the same applied to the cults—they always wanted to take advantage of one another.
'But even with actions like that, if it's an order, they'll go to the end.'
The outer corridor of the castle was long and lined with pillars covered in ancient elven runes. Inside there was a magical barrier. They knew it existed, but it was weaker than the one in the main hall that Galahard had been spying on with his magic. This barrier seemed to do nothing, but they sensed that something was wrong.
"They won't attack us here."
He spoke with a certain confidence, especially since they seemed to have let that other cult enter without concern. Even so, his hand was already close to the symbol engraved on his hidden staff. Lyria looked around, her eyes alert to every shadow.
'Or they'll pretend they won't.'
Sicra stopped for a moment, staring at the end of the corridor, where two green torches burned in a strange way.
"If they wanted us dead, we already would be."
She had noticed that the entire time they were walking through the place, they were being watched constantly. That was why she had agreed to enter; it seemed they were being invited.
They advanced a few more steps, and Galahard began to speak, his voice echoing lightly. He would have to explain it to Lyria, since only the two leaders of the mission knew what would be offered.
"About the alliance… our cult will offer information about other dimensions, sealed routes, and even the names of specific targets that the elven kingdom—"
The sound of something cutting through the air interrupted his words. A black blade appeared out of nowhere, passing just centimeters from Galahard's neck. He recoiled by instinct, falling onto his back as the stone behind him shattered. Lyria turned, summoning her blood magic.
"Ambush—!"
'Ambush? But I don't sense any killing intent.'
Sicra had a unique ability that allowed her to sense people's intentions, another reason why she had entered this place. Before any of them could react, an overwhelming pressure fell upon Sicra's body, forcing her to kneel for a moment. Red magic circles appeared on the ground, malformed, but clearly active.
'Why didn't I feel anything then? Could it be this barrier…'
She realized now what this barrier could do after noticing some ripples in the air.
'It cancels unique abilities.'
From the shadows between the pillars, a hooded figure revealed himself. The cloak was dark, unlike those of common cults, with elven symbols torn apart by force and sewn back together with black threads. When he lowered the hood, he revealed a pale face, short white hair, and dull blue eyes, lifeless. The long ears confirmed the obvious.
Sicra growled as she stood up with difficulty, leaving the person slightly surprised by the willpower shown by the woman in front of him.
"How interesting. Even though your power is being reduced, you still seem strong."
The man smiled sideways, raising his hand. Six magic circles formed behind him, unstable but powerful enough to crush an ordinary mage.
"My name is Rhaziel Thornveil."
His voice was calm, almost polite, with a touch of sarcasm when he spoke the last part.
"Servant of the god Sairao and of the alliance formed with Queen Elithia."
Galahard clenched his teeth as Rhaziel slightly tilted his head. Some elven guards of the queen appeared around them. They were certain now that this alliance would not work.
"From the looks of it, she doesn't even want to talk to us."
"Why would she talk to you when she has the great Sairao by her side now?"
He advanced in the blink of an eye, the ground cracking beneath his feet. Lyria hastily raised a barrier, which shattered upon the impact of the first strike. Lyria forced a cold smile despite the pain from the impact and the magic around her.
"So that's it… a sixth circle like him and another… I want to reach that level soon."
"As if someone who's going to die today could reach that level."
Sicra appeared behind him with a whip made of silver. A sharp crack echoed as it struck his back, sending him flying forward.
'Looks like she's seventh circle.'
Three sixth-circle elven guards quickly surrounded Sicra. Galahard stood up and pointed his fingers at the three. Ten lights shot out, three hitting each of them, and the last light struck the ground, creating a cloud of dust.
"Light Magic of Order: Remove Curses."
This magic didn't just remove curses. It removed any magic that weakened them in any way. Lyria moved closer to the two after that effect was removed from her body.
'Thank goodness this guy has that magic.'
Sicra took the lead, staying at the front with her silver whip. She tightened her grip slightly as silver, circular barbed spikes formed around it.
The elven guards stood up and wasted no time. Two advanced from the left while the third came from the right, enchanted blades leaving green trails in the air. Sicra spun the whip once, creating space, the metal scraping against the stone floor before rising in an arc.
She blocked the first sword with the handle of the whip, the impact making her arms tremble. The second strike grazed her shoulder, cutting cloth and skin. Blood flowed, but she didn't retreat.
"Blood Manipulation."
Lyria extended her hand, and the blood dripping from Sicra's wound moved, forming thin threads that wrapped around one of the guards' legs. He stumbled for a moment, long enough for Galahard to launch another sequence of lights that struck the ground beneath his feet, breaking his balance.
Rhaziel watched without intervening, merely adjusting his position. One circle faded and another appeared, his magic constantly changing form.
'I'll finish off the weakest—'
An explosion happened somewhere in the castle, making everyone look toward the window. Lyria, who was closer, saw one of Malik's sons fighting someone.
'Wait, what is he doing here?'
"Where do you think you're going, human?"
"Why all this fury? I was just spying."
The person fighting him was without a doubt the one who had taken her eye. She would never forget that golden hair.
'Enrico Solcren Ferreira.'