Darian paused in the middle of rubbing her wrists.
She looked up, her glass-bead-like eyes quickly scanning Wu Yao's expression.
There was no killing intent, no mockery, only the distinct pragmatism of someone inspecting a tool.
She quickly flipped through several possible responses in her mind before choosing the safest one.
“I do,” she said, standing up from the floor. She patted the dust off her short robe, her tone regaining a touch of its former playfulness.
“While I'm nowhere near Your Excellency's level, my basic spells aren't too bad. Of course, they're limited to the water and fire elements—I was only allowed access to those two before I went rogue. You won't look down on me, will you, Your Excellency?”
Wu Yao nodded in satisfaction.
The territory was currently short on hands. Tiechui and Tongque were merchants, Benita and Suren were ordinary people, and Phelin was still a child.
This girl was bold enough and knew some magic, making her suitable for the territory whether as a laborer or a general errand runner.
Of course, that was assuming she handed over her hidden stash first.
Wu Yao extended her right hand, fingers splayed and palm facing up. The meaning of this gesture required no translation.
Darian's expression turned slightly embarrassed. She lowered her voice as if afraid of being overheard. “Your Excellency, those things... I don't have them on me. You know I'm being hunted; if I kept them with me and got caught, they'd be gone for good. I hid them. They're hidden in—”
She nudged her chin toward the window, her tone carrying a hint of intimate suggestion. “My home. The old estate in Ken Territory, where my aunt lives.”
Wu Yao stared at her for a moment.
Darian's gaze was excessively earnest, practically having the words “I'm telling the truth” written across her forehead.
Wu Yao withdrew her hand and said briskly, “Lead the way.”
Works for me, she thought. If we go to your house, there'll be even more things to take.
A relieved smile blossomed on Darian's face. She quickly slung her cloth bag over her back and caught up in a few steps.
Walking half a step behind Wu Yao, her mouth couldn't stay quiet for long. As they walked, she prattled on, introducing the famous specialties of Qisuo City, mentioning that a bakery on the east street had delicious honey cakes, and that the tavern owner on the west street was an old acquaintance of hers...
Before they could even exit the corridor, they ran headfirst into a group of people.
In the lobby, firelight and human shadows intertwined.
The guests and staff were long gone. The tables had been pushed into the corners, and chairs lay scattered haphazardly across the floor.
The long table that originally stood in the center of the lobby had been cleared away, leaving an open space where eight robed figures stood.
Three in red robes, five in blue robes.
The tips of all eight staves had lit up simultaneously. Magical light flickered and crossed in the dim lobby, casting long, sharp shadows of the figures.
The leader was the red-robed mage standing at the very front. His staff was the longest among the eight, topped with a fist-sized red crystal that glowed with an ominous, dim light.
The moment Darian caught sight of that red robe, she froze as if struck by a whip. She stopped abruptly and darted behind Wu Yao with lightning speed.
Wu Yao glanced sideways at her. Darian was shrinking behind her, revealing only half her face and one hand, which was tightly clutching the hem of Wu Yao's robe.
“Are they all here for you?” Wu Yao reached back and plucked her out from behind.
Held by her collar, Darian squeezed out a sheepish smile. “...Yes.”
Wu Yao set her down, sizing up the formation of the eight mages before glancing back at Darian, who had quickly retreated behind her again.
“You certainly have good taste in what you steal. To have this many people chasing you, whatever you took must be quite valuable.”
Darian poked half her head out from behind her and let out a sheepish chuckle. “You flatter me, you flatter me.”
The leading red-robed mage took a step forward, his boots making a sticky sound as he stepped on the spilled alcohol on the floor.
He raised his staff, pointing the tip toward Darian. His deep, authoritative voice echoed through the lobby. “Darian the traitor, surrender now and your life may yet be spared. Otherwise—”
The red crystal at the top of his staff suddenly flared with a blinding light.
“You will be executed on the spot!”
Darian tugged secretly at Wu Yao's robe, her voice hushed, carrying a hint of probing and a trace of nervous tension. “Your Excellency... can you beat them? Eight shouldn't be too many for you, right?”
Wu Yao glanced at her. The HP bar was gone now. “I can knock them all down with a single finger.”
Darian's eyes lit up instantly. She let go of Wu Yao's robe and bounded out from behind her like an inflated balloon.
“A single finger!” She cocked her chin up and gestured with her thumb toward Wu Yao behind her, her voice ringing out loud enough for the entire lobby to hear.
“Did you hear that? She can beat all eight of you with a single finger! I suggest you get on your knees and beg for mercy right now; you might even get to leave with your underwear intact!”
She stood beside Wu Yao with her hands on her hips, positioned perfectly so that Wu Yao's body blocked most of her frame.
While her mouth charged ahead on the front line, her body remained rock-solid in a straight line behind Wu Yao, ready to duck back at a moment's notice.
The blue-robed mage on the far edge flushed red, his grip tightening on his staff until it creaked.
The older blue-robed mages wore grim expressions, their gazes darting back and forth between Darian and Wu Yao.
Only the leading red-robed mage remained completely motionless.
No obvious emotion showed on his face, but his hand tightened around his staff, the red crystal's light flickering briefly before stabilizing.
He only felt a sense of dread.
He had dealt with Darian before; she was as slippery as an eel, always keeping three escape routes ready.
Someone like her would never bet her life on an unreliable backer. The fact that she dared to stand there and speak in such a tone proved only one thing.
Darian believed this woman could single-handedly take on eight mages, even when those eight included an Archmage like himself.
This realization caused a cold sweat to break out across his back.
He couldn't discern the woman's identity. Her black robe looked plain, lacking any emblem of status, and there was no elemental fluctuation around her. Even the staff in her hand wasn't of standard issue.
Yet, the more unremarkable she seemed, the more unsettled he became. The most terrifying enemy was not the one you knew, but the unknown.
He feared that standing before him was a sorceress.
As he wavered in his dilemma, a blue-robed mage stepped out from the side of the group and bowed to him.
“My Lord!” the mage's voice was young, his tone carrying the typical eagerness and desire to show off common to young men. “Please allow me to go up and capture them!”
The leading red-robed mage turned to look at him.
This was the grandson of the Great Sage, placed under his command to “gain experience.” The boy usually walked around as if he owned the place, and no one wanted to offend him.
Rate on N.U.
