Crossing back into Maldrin was no issue for Alana, despite the scanty soldiers wandering about, doing a pitiful form of keeping watch. It was either she incinerated them with her various fla spells, butchered them where they stood, or—for the few who were lucky—she evaded them entirely. These were the ones she found attractive, and Alana, being who she was, would not want to destroy a pretty face unless she was pressed to.
She soon moved from Fifdone of Combec into Tunish.
Her face still bore its peculiar black ink paintings, her multiple rings hung from her ears, and she wore them confidently, striding with the poise of a lioness. She had co for one thing, and one thing only: Ren.
There were two soldiers napping down the path that led to the village, both of them sharing a large rock against which they leaned on each other and slept. They had kept watch through the night and had eventually lost the battle to sleep. Although it was early morning, it was bright enough that most residents of a city across Combec would already be up, but not the people of Tunish. They loved their sleep, and not until the suns rose fully would they stir from their beds.
She walked past the armour-wearing n, sized their mana reserves with her sight, and as she expected, she was not impressed. It could be that she had only been exposed to the impressive pool of knights in Combec, but the few she had seen had her convinced that the knights of Combec were far superior and more disciplined than those she had co across in Maldrin. She would be hesitant to face a cavalry of Combec soldiers, but not that of Maldrin.
She had taken only a few steps when she stopped and looked back at the sleeping n. Ren lived in Tunish, which was why they had t, but where his hut was, she had no idea.
They must know where he stays.
Now, instead of walking back to them, she pulled off one of her slip-on shoes and stamped the ground. A bright light shone from the area of contact. The sound of the strike did not wake them, but the sharp burst of light did.
However, before they could respond, lengthy grasses burst from the ground beneath them, speedily wrapping around their bodies—starting from their feet, and more importantly, racing up to cover their mouths before they could scream. But then, it was not like screaming would do them any good.
Strands of grass wound around their mouths, muffling their sad cries. She raised her left hand slowly, and with a simple, graceful gesture, the grass in both of their mouths rescinded. She did not free them of their binding, however; instead, she had the thick grasses wrap strongly around their necks, should they try to be wise and scream.
The knights got the ssage. They even quit their struggling and instead looked at Alana with tearful, pleading eyes, begging for rcy.
"Your lives are in your own hands. Tell where Ren is."
Ren, that was certainly his na.
The knights side-eyed one another, and although they knew Ren and hated him, it had not really occurred to them to learn his na, and they were confused.
"You must know him. Tall, with straight hair, and he clearly looks like soone who does not belong here."
They both nodded at the description. They had connected the dots now.
"Now, be quiet, and take to his place. Do not call attention to yourselves. Any noise, and I will incinerate you instantly."
They nodded affirmatively.
The two walked down the main path of the village, and just like the villagers, most of their colleagues were still asleep.
They did et one man who had just stumbled out of a hut, his wool skirt hanging off his legs, and he reeked of cheap alcohol. He was clearly inebriated.
Alana’s face crumpled with disgust, and fire billowed from her right hand, incinerating the drunken man. He wailed in his final monts, but most did not hear.
Soone, however, did hear. It was Tuarine. She was ditating, preparing to leave for Ren’s place to train with Rokku, when the weak cry reached her eardrums.
Sothing is wrong.
She registered the sound imdiately, rose from her sitting position, and went out of the hut. She could sll the scent of skin burning, and she bounded forward, locking onto the source. With mana-reinforced legs, she reached the scene before Alana could take another step forward.
"You!" Tuarine said, swelling with anger. Alana recognized her at once, and she heaved with excitent.
The knights caught between them did not know how to proceed; they simply stood like helpless spectators.
"I do not need you two anymore," Alana said with a devilish grin. Thick grasses sprang from the ground, twisting upward to capture both the knights and Tuarine. The vines caught the knights, wrapping them, giving them a hug of death. Their bones ground together under the force of the pressure.
Tuarine could not save them, but she saved herself, leaping out of the way with a backflip. The grasses sprang forward once more, taking on a wicked appearance with the thorns now jutting from their lengths.
Tuarine did not move this ti. She simply steeled her stance, a dense coat of mana forming over her. This field of energy repelled the approaching vines, shredding them as they struck against it.
Alana’s eyes widened in mild surprise.
"Your mana is at the sa level as an ordinary knight’s, and yet you possess this much control. That is comndable," she comnted. She took a relaxed stance and placed her hands on her hips. "You can help , you know. I did not co here to fight. Tell where Ren is, and I’ll go my way without any bother."
Tuarine balled her fists, taking an aggressive stance. "You would have to get through to get to him."
"That would be my pleasure," Alana retorted.
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