Silence answered him.
Draven continued walking forward through the industrial streets beneath the dark cloak without slowing down.
The crimson glow beneath the hood remained faintly visible now—controlled, but barely restrained.
Aldric glanced at him once, then let out a quiet sigh through his nose.
"…Yeah."
A pause.
"Thought so."
Neither of them spoke again afterward.
They simply continued deeper into Blackwater's lower district while smoke drifted endlessly overhead beneath the layered steel structures of the city.
Steam burst intermittently from overhead pipes, hissing into the dense air.
Neon lights flickered across crowded storefronts, their colors warping through the haze.
Voices echoed through narrow streets filled with mercenaries, merchants, scavengers, and hunters—each moving through the endless machinery of Blackwater as though it were just another day.
Yet despite the noise—
something about the pair felt completely detached from the city around them.
Isolated.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
And not far behind them—
the blue-haired woman followed silently.
At a distance.
Careful not to get too close.
Her saber remained at her side, but her hand never strayed far from its hilt.
The guild incident replayed constantly in her mind.
That mana.
That killing intent.
The blood.
And then—
the one beneath the hood.
None of it felt right.
She moved quietly through the crowd, keeping them within sight between passing bodies and drifting steam clouds.
Professional.
Cautious.
Not reckless enough to approach directly.
But too suspicious to simply let them disappear either.
Her sharp blue eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Draven's back beneath the cloak.
*What exactly are you…?*
Ahead—
Aldric suddenly spoke again without turning around.
"You know someone's following us, right?"
Silence.
Then calmly—
"Yes."
Aldric exhaled softly.
"…So we're just letting her follow for now since she hasn't done anything."
A pause.
"Yet."
The word settled coldly in the air.
Aldric rolled one shoulder lazily while continuing forward.
"So what's the plan?"
Silence answered him again.
Then finally—
Draven spoke quietly beneath the hood.
"Killing them all."
The street around them seemed to grow colder at those words.
The streets of Blackwater stretched endlessly ahead beneath layers of steel bridges, steam vents, and flickering neon signage, while Draven and Aldric continued walking through the smoke-covered district.
Neither of them slowed.
Neither of them looked back.
But the air around them had changed.
Cold.
Oppressive.
As if violence itself was quietly waiting just beneath the surface.
Aldric shoved both hands into his coat pockets while walking beside Draven beneath the drifting steam.
"…Alright then."
A pause.
"Definitely a plan."
His tone remained calm—almost casual.
But his eyes had lost most of their usual amusement.
He glanced sideways toward the faint crimson glow beneath the hood.
"…Still think you should maybe calm down before you start a war inside a city packed full of criminals."
No response.
Only silence beneath the cloak.
The black cat remained perched quietly on Draven's shoulder, its purple eyes scanning the streets around them with quiet alertness.
Behind them—
the blue-haired woman continued following through the crowd at a cautious distance.
The instincts within her screamed at her to stop.
To walk away.
To forget the entire situation.
Yet she kept following anyway.
Because that pressure she had felt inside the guild hadn't felt human.
And now—
watching the pair move calmly through the city afterward somehow felt even worse.
Ahead—
steam burst violently from a nearby overhead pipe with a loud metallic hiss.
Draven's crimson eyes flickered beneath the hood.
The rage within him had not faded.
It had only been compressed.
Forced inward again and again, folded into itself like a spiraling weight buried deep within his body.
Unstable.
Dangerously unstable.
Meanwhile—
across another section of Blackwater—
the cultist stepped out of a crowded industrial elevator while pulling Nia along beside her.
"Hurry."
Her voice remained calm.
But her pace did not match it.
The massive sky dock district stretched before them beneath towering steel frameworks and suspended cargo rails.
Workers moved constantly between transport platforms while repair crews swarmed damaged vessels below, showered in sparks and mana-lit welding arcs.
Their ship rested near the far docking lane.
Still undergoing repairs.
The cultist immediately frowned.
"…They still haven't finished?"
Several workers nearby glanced toward her briefly before returning to their tasks.
Large sections of the ship remained partially dismantled while mana engineers crawled across the outer hull, repairing damaged arrays and reinforcing broken conduits.
The cultist clicked her tongue softly.
"…Damn it."
Time was becoming a problem.
She scanned the area quickly.
"…Where are they?"
None of the others were visible.
No pilot.
No crew.
Nothing.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Then she immediately grabbed the arm of a nearby dock worker carrying reinforced tools.
"You."
The exhausted worker blinked.
"…Yeah?"
"The others assigned to this vessel."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Where are they?"
The worker scratched the side of his face awkwardly.
"…Uh…"
A pause.
"They were here earlier."
The cultist's expression hardened instantly.
"Earlier?"
"Yeah," the worker replied with a shrug.
"Then they left."
Silence.
The cultist felt irritation rise immediately.
*Damn it.*
Of all times for them to disappear—
this was the worst possible moment.
Beside her, Nia quietly looked toward the massive ship while still holding the small bag of pastries against her chest.
The cultist exhaled slowly through her nose before turning toward another worker further down the dock.
A thought surfaced through the tension.
*…Wait.*
Before leaving earlier—
Draven had ordered Lyriana to remain near the room where Miss Vaelith was held.
If Lyriana had obeyed—
then at least one person should still be aboard the ship.
She immediately turned toward Nia.
"Nia."
The girl stopped quietly near the cargo lane and looked up at her.
The cultist crouched slightly, her voice calm but firm.
"Listen carefully."
Her eyes locked onto the small beastkin girl.
"I want you to go inside the ship."
A pause.
"To the room my lord used earlier."
"Check if Lyriana is still inside."
Silence lingered briefly.
Then Nia nodded once.
"…Okay."
The cultist straightened immediately.
"Good."
"Go."
Nia turned without hesitation and moved toward the docked vessel.
Fast.
Far faster than any normal child should have been able to move naturally.
The cultist watched her disappear up the loading ramp between workers and hanging cargo chains.
For a brief second—
she frowned slightly.
*…She's faster than I thought.*
But there was no time to dwell on it.
Not now.
The cultist exhaled once through her nose and closed her eyes briefly.
Mana stirred beneath her skin.
Careful.
Controlled.
She had prepared tracking spells earlier—
small precautionary bindings placed on both Kaelira and the pilot without their knowledge.
Insurance.
At the time, it had simply been caution.
Now—
it was becoming useful.
Thin strands of mana spread outward from her fingertips like invisible threads searching through the city.
Then—
connection.
Two faint magical signatures appeared within her senses.
Both leading downward.
Deep into Blackwater.
Her eyes opened immediately.
"…Those idiots."
Without another second wasted—
she moved.
Fast.
The cultist crossed the edge of the suspended dock platform while workers shouted somewhere behind her.
Wind tore violently through her black hair beneath the towering steel frameworks overhead.
Far below—
Blackwater stretched endlessly beneath smoke, steam, neon lights, and industrial haze.
A fall from this height would kill most people instantly.
She stepped forward anyway.
And dropped.
The wind exploded upward around her body as she plummeted between suspended cargo rails and massive steel support beams.
Her coat snapped violently behind her.
Then—
mana flared beneath her feet.
Flight magic activated.
A sharp burst of compressed force slowed her descent before propelling her sideways through the open air.
She shot forward across the industrial skyline of Blackwater like a dark streak cutting through smoke and steam.
Below—
crowded streets rushed past beneath layers of metal bridges and glowing signs.
The magical tracking threads pulsed faintly ahead of her.
Leading directly toward Kaelira and the pilot.