“It’s too late! The Horseman has retrieved his heart,” Berg declares, coughing when Gridel knees her in the back. “How does it feel like to be deceived and baited?”

Deceived and baited? Ren gapes. Was that why Mavell hadn’t been around? Was that why Berg was alone? Was that why she gave such a long spiel about her life story? To goad them into wasting time with her while the Horseman committed dastardly deeds behind their back?

More importantly, the village is… Gyldon is being razed to the ground. Flames burns bright and startlingly visible in the white of the forest, and even the grand mountain itself, which housed Sylph’s castle, has caught on fire. Unfortunately, Ren cannot see much past the forest.

But what of Chief Grimm, or Sylph? Or Lady Gisella and Garch? And Tiv and Zan? With those two kids caught in the crossfire…

How could they have been so stupid? Ren had suspected something amiss, yet he convinced himself that he was overthinking it. That the fact that they didn’t encounter Mavell should have clued him in to a ploy of sorts.

But even then, would they have been able to stop it? Prevented it, at the very least? Or would they still have been too late, and that Gyldon was fated to be attacked as soon as they left?

“We have to go, quick!” Gridel says, leaping to her feet. Ren rushes over to where Penny lies and scoops her up into his arms. Meanwhile, Vane grabs Berg by the collar and lifts her to her feet.

“You’re coming with us,” he growls.

Berg does not show even the slightest hint of fear as she is manhandled towards the stairs. Gridel takes the lead, hurtling down the staircase, Ren and Vane right behind her. With every pound of their feet against the steps, each instant stretches till it feels like an eternity.

“There you are!”

Gridel doesn’t even halt in the face of an army of Bevillian soldiers. She leaps onto the banister, her crossbow readied. Bolts fly through the air as she slides down the spiralling staircase, slamming into the walls and the stairs. The soldiers back away from the sudden barrage, just enough for Ren and Vane to barrel past them.

“M-Minister Berg!” Resounding cries ring out in Ren’s ears as he descends, taking the stairs two at a time. Honestly speaking, his arms are going to give out any time now. Penny’s weight combined with Ignis’ and the constant bouncing of each step is very taxing for his weak muscles.

Though, the end is in sight. Ren leaps down the last couple of steps, Penny almost tumbling from his arms. Gridel is in the middle of a brawl, punching a soldier across the cheek and rendering him senseless as he crashes against the door. It flies open, smacking into a couple of men gathered outside.

Ren is the first one out, staggering into a group of soldiers. An arrow soars by his head, stabbing into a soldier’s shoulder and forcing him back. Ren ignores the splatter of blood, shunting to the right and heading down the shopping district. All he needs to do is to make it to the border of the city without getting caught, and they’ll be free.

Still, that most definitely is easier said than done. The crowd of soldiers has thinned—likely from the casualties of their initial assault. Vane, with Berg tossed over his shoulder, clears the way, shoving soldiers aside with careful swings of Claymore. The blade never cuts into anyone, but the radius is wide enough that the smart and cautious soldiers would stay away.

Ren makes it to the edge of the city, relief crashing through him. However, it gives way to shock way too soon, and he screeches to a stop when he sees a familiar face before him. Mavell holds his sword out, backed by some of his other soldiers. He eyes them warily, as though expecting an attack out of nowhere.

“Let us pass,” Gridel says, stepping between Ren and the captain.

Mavell shakes his head. “No can do. It’s by Minister Berg’s orders that I have to stop you. Speaking of which, I would like you to release her now, if you don’t mind.”

“We mind very much,” Vane says. “She has to release the seal she cast upon the Horseman’s heart.”

“It will take more than that to convince me,” Berg says flippantly, and Vane shoots her a glare.

“Please stop talking,” Ren mutters.

“In any case, if you refuse to release the minister, then I will have to take her back by force,” Mavell says. “If I fail, I am to relinquish my position. I apologise, but I do have a wife and two children at home to take care of.”

“Step aside, Mavell,” Gridel says. “If we let Berg go, then you’ll forever live in fear of the Horseman. She’ll continue to have power over you and everyone else in Beville.”

“That’s a possible future, yes,” Mavell interrupts. “But how can I make my decisions in the present whilst relying on speculations of the future? What if you fail? What if the Horseman and the minister remains? What of me and my family then?”

“Then were you the one who led the raid on Gyldon?” Gridel asks. Her voice is quiet, eerily so. Mavell doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. “How can you say such things whilst you destroyed so many families, and ruined so many people’s lives?”

Mavell falls silent yet again. No answer.

“Let us pass,” Gridel repeats, a note of finality in her voice. “This is the last time I’m going to say this.” She nocks a bolt onto her crossbow, aiming the shot at Mavell.

Ren hates confrontations like these—nothing good really came out of duels, from what he’s experienced. But at the moment, Mavell is the only person standing between them and the soldiers, and Ren kind of wants to get out of this situation without physical conflict.

“I told you,” Mavell says, knees bent, both hands on his sword’s grip, “I cannot.” Around him, the soldiers tense as well, spears at the ready. Oh, this is not good. Ren isn’t sure he is able to fight with a sleeping Penny in his arms. Vane also has one arm occupied, to hold Berg close to him, to keep her prisoner.

No one speaks for the longest time. The tension mounts, keeping Ren on high alert and ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Gridel never once breaks Mavell’s gaze, Aerius tight in her hands. Just as Mavell opens his mouth—probably another empty threat—a shadow soars over their heads. The soldiers’ jaws slacken, staring up at the creature weaving through the skies and casting a serpentine shadow.

“Is that… That’s a wyrm!” one of the soldiers screams.

“Run!”

Ren watches with mild fascination at the fleeing soldiers. The Nidhogg had certainly been a threat, though with it gone, the pain it brought remains. Mavell glances around, yelling at his men to stop, to stand their ground and fight. But no one listens.

“That blasted dragon returned!” Berg snarls. “How could it—”

“Sylph must have been ferrying the villagers,” Vane says, cutting her off. “Quick. Let us go meet Her.”

Ren nods. “Yeah, good idea.” He turns back to his friend, who is still facing down the captain of the guard. “Gridel!”

“You go first!” Gridel calls without once turning back. “I have to settle the score here.”

The score with Mavell. Ren did predict that they would be fighting their friend, ever since they made the decision to storm the Clocktower. But he hadn’t imagined the battle to take place in this sort of situation.

“You are not getting away!” Mavell shrieks, raising his sword and bringing it down on Gridel. Gridel darts away easily and readies a bolt. She’ll be fine—Gridel’s strong and proficient with Aerius. Ren exchanges glances with Vane, and without another word, the two of them begin sprinting after Sylph.

The wyrm appears to be slithering through the sky towards what appears to be the Horseman’s palace, or temple. Why would She be headed that way? Why would She bring the villagers towards danger?

“H-Hey! Be gentle!” Berg hisses. Vane ignores her, and he continues running. They soon make it past Beville’s residential district, passing by the house they stayed in before they were forcefully evicted. There, beyond the hills of snow, is the temple. The children should be inside, as should the Horseman.

Sylph lands near the temple, by a forest, Her long body coiling and looking like a scaly rope. Ren and Vane approaches Her, carrying Penny and Berg respectively. A small body hops off Sylph’s back, and Ren vaguely makes out Zan’s silhouette as she rushes over to them, her tiny feet plodding through the snow.

“Ren! Vane! Penny!” Zan screams, voice high. Ren almost topples when she hugs his legs, staggering back and barely holding on to Penny. Another small ball crashes into Ren, this one sending him careening onto his rear end. Penny’s dead weight lands against him, almost knocking the wind from his chest. Tiv and Zan are clinging to him as well, like koalas.

Ren peers over the top of their heads, staring over at where throngs of villagers are dismounting from Sylph’s body. Sylph Herself is curled up beside a copse of snow-covered trees, the green of Her aura pulsating shallowly, sporadically. Her body is covered in bruises, and patches of skin where the scales were torn off.

Did She do battle with the Horseman? Is that why she is in this state?

“Where’s Gridel?” Zan asks, lifting her head. “And why is Penny sleeping?”

“She’s out cold,” Ren says. “Someone hit her really hard on her head. Can you help me call Chief Grimm over?”

Tiv is the first to hop to his feet, saluting Ren with his chest puffed out, and he sprints across the snow back to the crowd of villagers. Zan scrambles off Ren’s knee, joining Tiv in dragging the Chief over. He turns his head at the sound of groaning and squeaking.

To his right, Vane struggles to keep Berg under control, the latter kicking and screaming. A display unfit for a person of her standing. If anything, she’s acting more like a child than Tiv or Zan would, and that’s saying a lot.

“What in the world’s wrong with you?” Berg cries. “Let me go, now!”

“Whatever happened to that snarky mouth of yours?” Ren calls, confidence suddenly bolstered. It feels sort of… satisfying, to see their prey like this. Unlike that sassy self she graced them with, this one looks more authentic. Like she’s dropped her brave front and bared her true self for everyone to see.

“Genmiol? What are you doing here?”

A robed figure stumbles over to them, both of Chief Grimm’s hands in the tight grips of two sprightly children. Chief Grimm eyes Genmiol for a good second—Ren swears he sees her go rigid—before turning his gaze towards Ren and Penny.

“Whatever’s happened to her?” Chief Grimm asks. Tiv and Zan lets him go, and he hobbles over to Ren.

“Uh… Berg, um, Genmiol happened,” Ren says with a cough, gaze flitting over to the offending party. Berg shoots him a glare, which Ren pays no mind to.

“She… happened?”

“Hit Penny over the head with her staff.”

Chief Grimm nods. “I see. Gisella should be able to administer something for the trauma. For now… I will have to decide on what to do with Genmiol, so if you’d excuse me…”

Ren thanks him, and Chief Grimm flashes him a smile, before heading over to where Vane is still pinning Berg in place. Ren heaves Penny into his arms again, pushing through the trembling in his arms. God, carrying something like this for an extended period of time puts a lot of strain on his muscles.

“Luminaries.” Sylph acknowledges his presence with a nod. Ren bows his head in greeting. “It appears that you have sustained some injuries whilst subduing Genmiol.”

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t the easiest of customers,” Ren says, scratching his head. He looks from villager to villager, hoping to catch a familiar feature of the fair Lady Gisella. At the moment, she is tending to the injured, now leaning against trees and Sylph’s body.

“Gisella,” Sylph says. “If you don’t mind.”

Gisella glances over from where she’s helping an elderly woman wrap bandages around her shoulder. She barks orders at the others, before hurrying over and helping Ren carry Penny over to where the injured are. God, she’s strong despite her petite stature. Ren awkwardly totters after her, through the blanket of snow. As Gisella helps to bandage up Penny’s head injury, Ren turns to Sylph.

“Why did you land here? It’s a little… close to the palace, don’t you think?” Ren asks, peering past Sylph’s body at the temple. Sylph gives a light chuckle.

“Indeed, it is, isn’t it? However, I am certain that the Horseman is not here. I do not sense his presence,” She says. “In fact, it is in my best interests to move the villagers into the temple.”

“But didn’t the Horseman use to stay there?” Ren asks. “The place would be pretty contaminated.”

“Do not forget what Gilroy ordered the children to do every so often. I do believe that with regards to the plague, the temple would be the safest place at this moment.”

Right. Hal did lead the children up to Drasil Mountain to harvest the flowers. No doubt they would have a plentiful stock which the resident medics may be able to use to produce cures for anyone infected.

What did Berg say? That the Horseman was supplying her the patients? That must mean that the Horseman had been infected the people in Beville, hadn’t he, at the bequest of their leader. Ren quashes the anger bubbling up in his chest. Whilst it’s not hard to believe that a leader would resort to sacrificing the people under them to achieve their personal goals… that does not make the truth any easier to bear.

It looks like there isn’t much difference between Zenthos and their world, huh?

Sylph lifts her head, staring off at Beville. “I sense a child. She appears to have been victorious in her endeavour.”

Ren glances back, to find Gridel hobbling over, an arm raised in a wave. However, she’s left a trail of blood behind her, and—

“Why the hell did you bring him here?” Ren cries.

Mavell is stumbling along with her, his arm tossed over her shoulders. He’s in a sorrier state than Gridel, that’s for sure. With chipped armour, bleeding from various spots on his arms and his legs.

“He’s wounded. I would be as bad as that woman if I left him to die,” Gridel says with a nonchalant shrug. “At least I knew that we wouldn’t need to be charged for hospital bills here.”

Genmiol is too preoccupied with an argument she’s currently having with Chief Grimm to really pay attention to their conversation. Still, what Ren’s most curious about is how the Bevillian soldiers left Mavell and Gridel alone. Then again, Mavell is the Captain of the Guard…

Ren turns at a hand on his shoulder. Gisella peers up at him with shimmering and purposeful eyes. “We’re moving the injured into the temple. It would be best if…” She trails off, but her expectant expression gives her question away.

“Yeah, sure,” Ren says, despite his aching arms. He can certainly help one or two people trudge over to the—

“Oh, um…”

Ren tilts his head at the interruption. Gisella fixes him with a strange look that Ren’s not liking very much. He’s on his way towards the rest of the villagers, looking for anyone that he can lend a hand to.

“I… I was thinking that… since you’re familiar with the residents of this temple here, that you could help… announce our arrival,” Gisella says. “I wouldn’t want to invite any violence, especially since…”

Ah. Looks like he’s got the wrong idea. Ren nods. “I’m going to have to borrow the kids, though. They were once part of this community.”

Gisella offers him a kind smile. Gridel calls for Tiv and Zan, the two children detaching themselves from Chief Grimm and bounding over to them. They’ve become so very different from when Ren first met them—when they were all bundles of seriousness and sombreness. But now, they’re just like little children, the way they should be.

“What is it?” Tiv asks.

“What do you need us for?” Zan asks.

“Well…” Ren glances from one of them to the other.

“We’re going to help the villagers move into the temple,” Gridel says. “You know, where all your friends lived. Do you mind lending us a hand?”

Zan nods. “Yeah. I’m their leader, and Wax’s best friend. They can’t not listen to me.”

“I’ll… I’ll be Zan’s assistant for this one,” Tiv says, scrunching his soles against the snow. “They don’t like me very much…”

“Well, I don’t think you’re all bad,” Zan says, her hands on her hips. “I mean, you’re dumb and weak, but I don’t think we should kick you out.”

Ren isn’t very sure what Tiv’s supposed think about that, but the boy is beaming. Like he’s just heard the best thing in his life. Zan is the first to take off, pounding the tundra towards the palace, whilst Tiv sprints after her with utmost vigour. Well, those two children have been extremely dependable, so he has no qualms about leaving them by themselves. If anything, Zan may be able to get the rest of the children to come help them.

“Now that that’s settled…” Ren mumbles, more to himself than anyone else. The conflict between Genmiol and Chief Grimm appears to have been resolved, with Vane keeping her hands behind her back, and she is unable to act. Chief Grimm shuffles over to where Ren stands with Gridel and Mavell.

“And who might you be?” Chief Grimm asks, looking up at him.

“Someone whom we’ve adventured together in the past,” Gridel says. “Now, he needs medical attention.”

Chief Grimm nods. “Of course, we will lend assistance to any who need it.”

Great. All they have to do now is to wait for Tiv and Zan to return. It is soon after that Ren spots them: two little shapes emerging from the main entrance to the temple leading a bunch of other small figures. Except, this time, they’re not holding any form of weapons, and they’ve lost the Tiki masks.

Ren smiles. The first good thing that happened since they left Gyldon: the children are coming to help. Whether willingly, or at Zan’s orders, he isn’t certain, but he sure hopes that it’s the former.

Well, Ren thinks, as he watches the children and villagers plough ahead towards the temple, there’s only one more thing that they have to consider. He looks up at Sylph, at Her gentle expression.

“I know what you are thinking, Luminary,” Sylph says, Her eyes sparkling. “And whilst I can only detect a sliver of his magic signature, I know exactly where he is.”

“And that is…?” Ren prompts.

“Up high on Drasil Mountain,” Sylph says. “Where the Nidhogg had claimed as its territory.”