The battle in the basement of House Marstchel’s Residence was finally reaching its climax.
The robed men, the Shadows of the Holy Light Religion, were coordinating their movements as if they shared a single mind. Despite their teamwork, Vihera treated them as a single entity to be dismantled. One by one, she used the claws extending from her gauntlets to slice through torsos and heads, gouging out limbs until the floor was littered with bodies.
In a way, those who were sliced apart and died instantly were the lucky ones. Vihera’s raw strength was devastating; those struck in the torso had their ribs shattered, the jagged bones piercing their own internal organs. Others died with their skulls crushed under her greaves.
While Vihera was overwhelmingly dominant, Nakt and Byune were struggling against the lifeless puppets. Nakt, a thief by trade and not particularly skilled in direct combat, had been forced into a supporting role for Byune, the primary fighter of their group.
They had managed to maintain a precarious balance until Rei blew Oricule back. After a few shouted words from the conspiracy leader, the tide shifted in the puppets' favor. Specifically, it was the insult to the technical skill of Pri—the woman who had created them—that triggered the change.
Embedded with absolute loyalty to their creator, the puppets found it unforgivable that Pri’s abilities should be doubted because of their own failure. Their attacks grew frantic. Byune, a combat specialist, held her ground, but Nakt was no longer able to support her. Instead, he was barely surviving through her intervention.
"Nn!"
With a sharp grunt, Byune threw several needles. They pierced a puppet that had been clinging to the ceiling, preparing to drop on Nakt’s head, and pinned it securely to the rafters.
The thieves’ struggle stemmed from the puppets’ unnatural abilities. Being constructs, they possessed no presence and emitted no murderous intent when they attacked. For Byune and Nakt, whose survival depended on the sharp instincts of a thief to detect threats, these were the worst possible opponents. Their ability to walk on walls and ceilings only added to the difficulty, allowing them to strike from any angle.
"S-sorry... Dammit, if Ecethesus were here, we could have handled these dolls somehow... Look out!"
Nakt heard the whistle of air and swung his dagger. A sharp clang rang out as he deflected a projectile. He immediately threw his own dagger toward the ceiling behind him.
It was a split-second reaction. His blade struck the puppet on the ceiling, but it only managed to pin the construct's right arm to the wood. Realizing his error, Nakt reached for the dagger he had dropped on the floor.
The other puppets didn't give him the chance. Seeing him unarmed, they rushed him with weapons raised.
"Nn!"
Byune unleashed a hail of needles. Each one seemed to have a mind of its own, striking a puppet and halting its advance. However, a needle was only a needle. Unless it hit a vital mechanism, it only slowed them down for a few seconds. The puppets continued their advance toward Nakt with the metal slivers still protruding from their bodies.
Nakt scooped up his dagger in a fluid motion and deflected a longsword, but a spear-wielding puppet was already closing in. He couldn't dodge. Instinctively, he tried to twist away.
"Flying Slash!"
Rei’s voice cut through the air. A blade of energy cleaved through several puppets about to overwhelm Nakt. Sensing his life had been saved, Nakt didn't wait to see the results. He leaped backward to land beside Byune.
"Whew... things are getting pretty tight."
Nakt wiped the sweat from his forehead. Despite the basement's comfortable temperature, even in the middle of summer, he was drenched from the sheer terror of facing death.
I can't die here... not until I've saved Tibia!
With renewed resolve, he and Byune waded back into the fray against the puppet horde.
"I see. Ignoring me to save your friends... a wise choice, I suppose. Considering the state I'm in."
Oricule glanced down at himself. His leather armor was shredded in several places. Even his high-quality magic items, designed for superior defense, were torn. Had he been anyone else, or had his gear been any less formidable, the Death Scythe's blade would have already claimed his life.
"Are you done struggling?" Rei asked. "I have questions for you. I might have to take a limb or two, but I won't kill you. You can rest easy on that."
"That's not very reassuring. I think I'll persist a while longer. If I can hold out until the forces sent to House Silwa return, then I win."
Oricule grinned, gripping his rapier and swordbreaker. Even at a severe disadvantage, he hadn't given up. Rei’s expression hardened. This wasn't just a man following orders; Oricule was a veteran who had survived countless battlefields.
He's not quitting. Does he have another trump card hidden away, like that swordbreaker? No, if he did, he would have used it by now...
Rei gripped the Death Scythe and glanced past Oricule toward the magic circle. Tibia was still unconscious. It was unnatural; the leader of an adventurer party like Sound Blade should have woken up given the din of combat.
Is the magic circle keeping her under? Wait...
Rei stopped. Tibia was noticeably paler than when they had first arrived. Furthermore, the magic circle beneath her was beginning to glow.
"I see. You were stalling for this, too."
Rei was furious with himself for taking Oricule's words at face value. He glared at the man. Oricule merely smiled.
"Ah, you noticed. Honestly, I don't care for wasted life, but the master of the house was insistent."
Oricule showed no signs of remorse. To him—and perhaps the Holy Light Religion—death was acceptable if it served a purpose. He had no intention of saving a stranger if it meant offending Pri Masterche.
"She will learn the mercy of the Goddess of Light in the next life," Oricule added. "It's a shame she didn't find faith in this one, but her sins will be washed away soon enough."
"Tibia!?"
Nakt’s voice rang out. He hadn't heard Oricule, but he had caught sight of the glowing circle and Tibia's worsening complexion.
"Get out of my way!"
Puppets blocked his path. Even though he and Byune had already destroyed nearly twenty, more kept appearing from the shadows. No matter how many they felled, the numbers didn't seem to dwindle.
"Nn!"
Byune was out of needles. She was small and built for speed, so she couldn't carry an infinite supply of metal. She drew twin daggers and engaged the puppets in close quarters, though she was being forced onto the defensive.
Nakt’s desperate rush toward the circle became a catalyst. The puppets could not allow anyone to interfere with the ritual for their creator.
"STAY BACK! STOP HIM!"
The lead puppet shrieked. The others synchronized their movements, weapons raised.
Slash!
Suddenly, several puppets were torn apart.
"Oh, it's a pity you're so focused on him. Why not play with me? I used to play with dolls all the time when I was a girl."
Vihera descended from above. Her claws produced by magic power pierced a thirty-centimeter puppet through the head, lifting it into the air.
"I-impossible... you should still be..."
The puppet croaked as it hung from her claws. Vihera turned its head toward the pile of twenty robed men she had just finished off.
"Their coordination was impressive, but perfection is a weakness. Once a few links in the chain break, the whole thing falls apart. Now, I wonder if you dolls can keep me entertained?"
With a sharp flick, she shredded the puppet. She stepped on the puppet remains and glared at the survivors.
"WE WON'T FORGIVE YOU!"
The puppets were enraged. To them, their bodies were sacred gifts from Pri Masterche. Stepping on them was the ultimate desecration. They swarmed her, moving with neither presence nor murderous intent.
"I've been watching you," Vihera said, her thin raiment fluttering like the wings of a dancer as she moved. "The lack of presence is a clever trick, but once you've seen it, it’s not hard to counter!"
She moved in a deathly dance—avoiding, parrying, and striking with fists, elbows, and knees. Her attacks were devastating. She shot a glance at Nakt, signaling him to move.
Nakt didn't hesitate. He wasn't a mage, but he had to do something about that magic circle. He took a step forward, and then a bolt of lightning struck him from the air. He collapsed without a sound.
"Oh dear. It seems I haven't secured my materials yet."
A voice came from the door Oricule had used. A middle-aged woman entered, draped in jewels and surrounded by more puppets.