— "It seems you like the drawings," a female voice sounded from his side, calm and powerful.
He bolted upright from the cushions, scattering them to the sides as his eyes locked onto hers.
— "Madam!" Gantz placed a hand over his chest and bowed his head slightly.
She crossed her bare legs, concealing her intimacy while slowly swinging one of her small feet. Her feral blue eyes made him nervous; it felt as though she were deciding his fate, like an empress high upon her throne.
— "What is a Natanael doing around here?"
— "I don't know, just trying to find my way."
— "Are you serious? Are you going to pretend you don't know me, Sasha?"
Gantz turned pale as he scrambled to think of something to say. The uncomfortable seconds ticked by until Anastasia finally parted her lips once more.
With a sigh, she said, — "We only saw each other a few times when we were children. Despite the massive change in appearance we've both undergone over the years, I thought you would recognize your former partner."
"Shit... Shit, sometimes I think some bastard is messing with me!" he thought, figuratively shaking his fist at the heavens.
— "I don't like to dwell on the past, especially seeing you today. You look absolutely enchanting, truly."
Anastasia smiled. — "It seems someone is trying to make amends for that," she said, leaning forward, letting her breasts slide down as her abdomen curved inward.
— "A part of me might wish for such an opportunity, but our statuses are quite different these days."
Anastasia seemed to have had enough amusement. She rose from the bed and slipped into her undergarments before covering her legs with trousers, putting on her shirt, and throwing her large trench coat over it all. She flipped her long hair out of the coat and turned to Gantz, who was still standing.
— "You need to rest."
— "Are you worried about me?" This time, her tone was not playful or cheerful; it was as gelid and apathetic as the other inquisitor's. Gantz was baffled by such a stark shift in personality, yet he preferred it this way—after all, he wasn't Sasha.
— "Just a word of advice from your caretaker," he said, bowing his head respectfully.
Anastasia seemed to approve of the change in attitude and tone. She sat back down on the bed, leaning her back against a pillow as she retrieved a book from her ring.
As Gantz made his way out, her voice echoed.
— "Where do you think you're going?"
— "I'm finished here, Madam. I'm leaving you in peace."
— "I prefer that you massage my feet."
Gantz looked into her eyes, trying to see if it was a joke. No, it didn't seem to be. He walked back to the bed, sat on a stool tucked away on the side, and grasped one of her pale feet. He didn't dare hesitate; he knew nobles were volatile, and denying an order could condemn him to something far worse.
...
Time flew, and his hands were aching. He spent two hours massaging her feet before she was summoned by the others, marching out of the tent while flipping her hair back. He was hungry, exhausted, and bitterly regretting getting himself into this mess. He wondered if the God of the Seas was punishing him for killing Olete.
While he pondered, a servant entered the quarters and left a basket of bread, meat, and milk, along with a blanket, before exiting.
Looking at the high-quality food, he smiled. At least she remembered to feed me! He feasted on the delicacies in the basket, dipping the brown bread into the sauce of a meat of unknown origin and drinking the honey-sweetened milk. Afterward, he poured the yellow liquid onto another darker piece of bread and ate it as dessert before leaning back against the cushions and falling into a deep sleep, leaving a mess of plates around him.
He woke up to a voice speaking near him.
— "It seems you've lost your manners too!"
He opened his eyes and spotted two legs covered in leather, tracing his gaze upward until it met the glaciers that were Anastasia's eyes.
— "Did you enjoy the meal?"
Gantz nodded, still dazed by drowsiness.
— "I didn't think donkey meat could taste so good."
Gantz sat up abruptly, his stomach turning instantly as he looked at her in shock.
— "No... it's not my donkey, is it?"
She laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. — "I'm joking. Your donkey is with the horses. What possessed you to go around riding a donkey anyway?"
He relaxed his body, leaning back against the cushions once more.
— "I don't know, I just like him."
— "You've become quite an odd individual over the years, haven't you?"
He would have loved to respond in kind, but her eyes made it clear that wouldn't be a smart move.
— "Am I free to leave now?" he asked as he stood up.
— "Go," she said, waving her hand toward the exit.
Gantz vanished before she could say anything else.
Finally! I thought I'd never get out of that place!
The lights of the campfires gleamed everywhere. He was trying to remember which way he had come when, suddenly, screams began to echo from the edge of the camp. Other people started getting up and looking around, trying to figure out what was happening. Then, a tree crashed directly onto a campfire right in front of Gantz. His body was splattered with red as the bodies of the smiling soldiers were crushed under a ton of flying timber. There was still a man trapped beneath one of the branches; his screams were thunderous and nauseating to hear. Gantz rushed over and tried to pull the man out. The torso came free, but both legs up to the thighs were left behind, exposing both femurs. The screaming ceased as the man lost consciousness. Gantz severed the stumps, then wove a network of threads to seal the veins and stop the bleeding before covering the wound with a layer of mana. The man remained unconscious.
He looked back toward the tree line. Explosions of earth hurled armored bodies into the air alongside dirt and shards of wood. The ground trembled, and screams echoed from all sides. People ran, and soldiers marched toward the commotion. Anastasia and her men soared up from behind a tent, disappearing into the dark sky.
Gantz sprinted toward the edge of the forest, dodging stumps and rocks that were being catapulted from somewhere. Due to the darkness, it was impossible to tell where or when they would land. A few times, he managed to pull someone out of the way before they were crushed; other times, he could only watch as people turned to jelly right in front of him. He couldn't describe the sensation of having someone look you in the eye, begging for help, while being completely unable to do anything.
Rage began to burn in his veins, and his pace quickened until he finally reached the perimeter. Masses of sweaty green bodies, clad in leather armor and using giant tortoise shells as shields, were invading the cluster of men and women—slashing, tearing, and crushing bodies underfoot.
For a moment, he almost charged forward, but then he remembered he was in disguise. He recalled that the man he was pretending to be used a bow. Looking around, it wasn't hard to find one among the wreckage, and he grabbed a quiver full of projectiles.
The twang of the bowstring vibrated through the air as the first green giant was struck in the eye by one of his arrows. The orc clapped a hand over its eye as blood mixed with ocular fluid poured down its cheek. The creature looked around with its remaining eye, searching for the archer, when it was struck again—this time, the arrow pierced its shoulder, severing the tendon and causing its fingers to snap open, dropping the mace it held. Its teeth were clenched as it staggered backward. A volley of spears pierced its abdomen, chest, and legs, finally bringing it to its knees before its skull was smashed by a mace.
Its comrades cared little, trampling the corpse and grinding the remains into the dirt as they surged forward.
Gantz aimed for the knees whenever he could, sometimes getting lucky enough to pierce an orc's thick skull, dropping it instantly. Looking around, he realized the enemy seemed like an endless sea, wave after wave crashing against the metallic wall of soldiers. The thought of taking advantage of the chaos, crossing the field to the other side, and running away was tempting—but if anyone survived, they would eventually cross paths in Brazanta.
Answering his own thoughts, he raised the bow once more and kept firing.