Mystic Mystic Moon glared at A-Dunce as he stepped in front of her. "What do you think you're doing?"
A-Dunce met her glare with a scorching look of his own, barely containing his fury. He turned sharply to the Bunman. "My apologies, sir. Here," he grabbed a fistful of gold coins from his newly received stipend and shoved them into the bewildered man's hand. "Consider those buns paid for."
The owner blinked, startled by the sudden weight and glitter of wealth. "Sir Mage, one bun… it's hardly worth all this. Please, on the house!" Even clad in a mage's robe and burdened by the heavy Tianan-Gang Sword on his back, the owner didn't recognize the formerly ragged boy. A commoner didn't anger Mages.
A-Dunce lifted the hood of his cloak. "It's me. Please, take it."
The Bunman gasped. "A-Dunce? How… how did you become a Mage?"
A-Dunce scratched his head. "Just a novice. Thank you." He bent down, picked up the discarded bun Mystic Mystic Moon had thrown, and without a backward glance, strode away.
"Hey! Hey!" Mystic Mystic Moon called out, her voice sharp, but A-Dunce didn't slow, vanishing around a street corner. That casual dismissal of food—*his* hard-won food—had enraged him.
Mystic Mystic Moon, coddled since birth, unused to defiance, let out a furious huff and gave chase. She caught up to him just past the corner, blocking his path. "What is your problem?! Remember, you agreed to be *my* retainer!" Back at the Guild, Mystic Mystic Moon had demanded A-Dunce accompany her mostly for amusement. He seemed gullible, a convenient companion in her loneliness. Deep down, she viewed him with the casual disregard a noble might show a commoner. But now, this insignificant commoner was ignoring her over a lump of dough!
A-Dunce's voice was flat. "Do you need something? From now on, I won't follow you. I'm done being your lackey."
Mystic Mystic Moon stared him down. "You can't break your word! You *promised*! It was just one stupid bun!"
A-Dunce's gaze turned icy as he brushed the dust off the retrieved bread. "In my heart, that bun means more to me than you do."
The words sliced through Mystic Mystic Moon's pride like a blade. Fury exploded within her. "Are you asking to die?!" Her staff whipped forward, unleashing five orbs of pure light towards him.
A flash of sharp focus ignited in A-Dunce's eyes. A pure white aura burst from his body – the tangible energy of *Vital Aura* (Life Rockforce-Rockforce Energy). The shimmering shield intercepted the light orbs mid-flight. *Thud-thud-thud!* The orbs dissipated harmlessly. A-Dunce stood firm. Mystic Mystic Moon, however, staggered back from the backlash. Their magic reserves were still depleted from the Guild tests. Plus, up close, low-level Mages stood no chance against awakened Warriors.
Stunned, Mystic Mystic Moon stared at the sacred radiance enveloping A-Dunce, transforming the simple boy she'd bullied into a figure of fierce resolve. "You… you dared attack me? I'll have my father execute you!"
Disgust twisted A-Dunce's features. "Hmph. Then go find him. Why bother clinging to me? Hiding behind your parents? That's weak." He stepped towards her, pushing her aside with one dismissive hand. "I said I'm done." He walked away.
Mystic Mystic Moon stood rooted, trembling with rage and humiliation. In all her pampered life, no one had treated her so. Pride demanded satisfaction. "You! Stop right there!"
A-Dunce halted but didn't turn. He held up the retrieved bun like a shield. "Do you know what a bun means to me?" he asked, his voice low but clear. "Without scraps like this, I wouldn't be alive. Without them, I wouldn't be here now. That bun… was my life. And you, the esteemed daughter of the Holy Church… you just spat on it. Consider us even." For once, anger had forged his thoughts into sharp, coherent sentences.
"Fine! Fine then!" Mystic Mystic Moon spat, her voice shaking with fury. "If you leave… I'll kill myself! Right here, right now!" Knowing she couldn't overpower him physically now, she resorted to her trump card – the theatrical threat.
A-Dunce froze, whirling around to face her, eyes wide with sudden alarm. "You're the Blood Skeleton Monk Priest's daughter! Why haunt a nobody like me? I won't fall for your tricks again. A noble like you wouldn't harm yourself over a commoner! Goodbye, *Miss* Yue."
A-Dunce's cold dismissal sent tremors through Mystic Mystic Moon. "Fine!" she cried, her voice quivering with hysterical resolve. "You don't believe me? Then my blood is on your hands!" With both hands, she gripped the short ceremonial staff and drove its wicked, triangular point down towards her own stomach. Sunlight flashed coldly on its polished steel.
A-Dunce's blood ran cold. He hadn't expected such ferocity. The motion was deadly serious. Instinct screamed. Pushing his Life Rockforce-Rockforce Energy to its limit, he blurred into motion, lunging for Mystic Mystic Moon's arms. But she was committed, and he was too far away. As his fingers closed on her wrists, the tip of the staff sank a half-inch into her lower abdomen.
*Uff!* A strangled gasp escaped Mystic Mystic Moon. She crumpled.
A-Dunce scooped her small body up. The clarity of anger evaporated, replaced by panicked urgency. He clamped his hands over hers, still clutching the staff handle, staring helplessly at her pale, pain-twisted face.
* * * * *
Outside the city, a stately carriage flanked by a dozen silver-armored warriors raced towards the town. Each guardian emanated a powerful aura, seasoned fighters. Within the carriage, a deep voice spoke sharply, "Dammit! Mystic Mystic Moon's injured! Faster! I sense her nearby!"
"At once, Your Eminence!"
* * * * *
A-Dunce yanked the staff free. Blood Skeleton blossomed across Mystic Mystic Moon's white dress. Panic drove out anger. He channeled his *Vital Aura* into her body, constricting vessels and veins to stem the bleeding.
"Mystic Mystic Moon! Mystic Mystic Moon! Tandor't die!" His voice cracked. "I'll stay! I'll still be your retainer! Just don't die!"
The sharp pain in her stomach was a new, unwelcome sensation for Mystic Mystic Moon, but hearing A-Dunce's desperate plea sparked a vindictive thrill. Suicide? Please. The staff tip hadn't gone deep enough to touch her intestines; a flesh wound at best. Even without A-Dunce's intervention, she wouldn't have died. Daughter of a Blood Skeleton Monk Priest, she knew basic Lightweaving. Enough to heal this. She fluttered her eyes open to meet A-Dunce's terrified gaze. "A-Dunce… Which matters more now? Me, or that bun?"
"You! You matter more!" A-Dunce gasped. "Tandor't talk. I've stopped the bleeding. We need to get you help!" The paleness of her face, the vulnerability – she suddenly wasn't the tyrannical noble, just a hurt girl.
Mystic Mystic Moon's eyes suddenly snapped wide. "Oh, crap! I feel him! Dad's here! He must have sensed my… panic! Move, quickly!" The fear in her voice was real now.
A-Dunce adjusted his grip on her. "Where? We need to look at that wound!"
Mystic Mystic Moon gritted her teeth, thinking fast. "Back to the Mage Guild. It's the only sanctuary."
* * * * *
When Geiger saw A-Dunce carrying a blood-stained Mystic Mystic Moon back into the Mage Guild hall, his face drained of color. "Y-you… why are you back?" Old Huang, the gatekeeper, was out summoning Mages for repairs. Geiger had been praying fervently to never see the little hellion again. His prayers were clearly misfiring.
Mystic Mystic Moon managed a glare. "What? Not happy to see me? I'm hurt. Need a place to rest… indefinitely. Got a problem with that?" Her tone dared contradiction.
Geiger flinched, finally noticing the dark patch below her waist. "Miss! What happened? You just left! Did… did someone assault a Mage inside the city? Who dares challenge us? I demand answers!"
A-Dunce flushed, stammering to explain, but Mystic Mystic Moon cut him off. "None of your damn business *how* I got hurt. Just find me a bed before I bleed out on your nice floor. Dying here? Might ruin your day."
"Right! Right! This way!" Geiger led them through the chaotic inner hall – Mages were still casting repair spells on the walls A-Dunce had destroyed earlier – and activated a hidden passage in the back wall. They emerged into a comfortable suite: a large double bed, a long couch, table, chairs, and a separate bath.
A-Dunce laid Mystic Mystic Moon gently on the bed. "Thank you, Master Geiger."
Geiger thought, *Thanks? Just get her gone as soon as possible.* Aloud, he sighed, "Rest. I'll fetch some food." He turned to flee.
"Hold it!" Mystic Mystic Moon's voice stopped him cold. "Listen up. People *will* come looking. My people. You didn't see me. Got it?"
Geiger blinked. "Miss… you didn't run away from home, did you?"
"So what if I did?" Mystic Mystic Moon retorted defiantly. "Might as well tell you now. My father? Yeah, he's one of the *Four Blood Skeleton Monk Priests of the Holy Church*. Imagine his reaction if he finds his little girl wounded… under your roof. Oh, the carnage. But you know what would be *really* bad? If he thought it was a certain Water Mage named Geiger who stabbed her. Ponder *that*." A chillingly sweet smile touched her lips.
The smile was beautiful, yet utterly venomous to Geiger. Cold sweat drenched his robe. A *Blood Skeleton Monk Priest*? Insulting one wasn't just death; it was damnation incarnate. *Why me? Why?! Great Architect of the Universe! I tithed, I prayed! Why send this demon?!* His mind raced. Only two options offered safety. One: kill both intruders and dispose of the evidence. But his conscience balked, and A-Dunce looked disturbingly capable. Option two: play the hellion's game and hide her.
"Fine… I yield. Geiger lived a decent life. Why meet *you* now?" His voice was pure resignation.
Mystic Mystic Moon feigned surprise. "Ooh, how'd you know my nickname? Friends?"
Geiger choked on a bitter laugh. "Never met you. Praying I never will. Rest. I'll keep quiet." He practically ran from the room. Harboring Mystic Mystic Moon felt like sheltering a shifter-tech mine ready to detonate.
Watching Geiger's retreat, Mystic Mystic Moon grinned, then winced. Pushing people was her favorite pastime. "Ouch!"
A-Dunce jumped. "Mystic Mystic Moon! Why? Why would you *do* that to yourself?"
Mystic Mystic Moon scowled. "*You* drove me to it! But I heard you! You promised to stay! So, retainer it is. For real this time."
A-Dunce nodded. "Yeah. I won't leave you. But… no more wasting food. Ever."
Mystic Mystic Moon studied him, recalling his words. "Was that bun… really that important?"
A-Dunce sighed softly, just nodding. "Let's check your bandage. Can't risk infection." Without hesitation, he reached for the belt of her dress. The concept of modesty didn't compute when treating an injury. He just needed to see the wound.
Mystic Mystic Moon, though only fifteen, understood far more. Flushing scarlet, she swatted his hand away. "Get off me! Pervert! Out! I can handle it!"
A-Dunce looked puzzled. "You sure? I can help…"
Her face flamed crimson. "You… you! Just go! Girls don't just let guys… look! I'm *fine*!"
A-Dunce scratched his head, completely lost. "But when Xiao-Mei was hurt, I always patched her up. Saw her all the time."
Mystic Mystic Moon blinked. "Xiao-Mei?"
"Xiao-Mei was WatanaSear's dog. A girl dog. Always getting into scrapes."
Mystic Mystic Moon nearly combusted. He'd compared her to a *dog*?! With a furious shriek, she hurled a feeble light orb at him. "GET! OUT!"
A-Dunce flinched, his *Vital Aura* flaring instinctively to absorb the weak attack. *Fine, retreat*. Mystic Mystic Moon was injured; arguing was suicidal. He bolted.
The door clicked shut. Mystic Mystic Moon let out a breath, touching her burning cheeks. *Idiot. Truly an idiot*, she muttered. Her wound was a minor inconvenience. Wincing, she began untying her dress. She'd just undone the outer layer when the door cracked open again.
"Need help?" A-Dunce peeked in.
Mystic Mystic Moon shrieked, yanking her dress closed. "OUT! NO PEEPING! Or I swear I'll try again!" Her threat was shrill.
A-Dunce slammed the door, pulse racing. Strangely, she looked… cuter, embarrassed? He leaned against the wall outside, remembering her near-suicide. A shiver ran down his spine. Pulling the retrieved bun from his cloak, he absentmindedly nibbled on it.
He'd barely taken two bites before her voice called him back. "A-Dunce! Get in here!"
He obeyed. Mystic Mystic Moon looked much better, cloak shed, tucked under the blankets. Her eyes tracked him.
"Feeling okay? Bad wound?" Concern laced his voice.
"Told you, won't die today," Mystic Mystic Moon snapped, but without the previous vitriol. "Come here."
A-Dunce approached the bed. "Mystic Mystic Moon, please… don't do anything that reckless again. Hurts too much."
Mystic Mystic Moon didn't protest. Instead, as he spoke, his large, calloused hand covered hers. A jolt ran through her. She might have pulled away, but before she could react, warmth flowed into her veins – his *Vital Aura*. Pink tinged her cheeks again. He meant well. She let his hand stay.
A-Dunce gently channeled his energy, sensing her meridians. Mystic Mystic Moon's wound, sealed with her own Lightweaving, felt clean. He relaxed. "Really seems okay. Mystic Mystic Moon… how did you…"
Meeting his earnest gaze, Mystic Mystic Moon felt an unexpected warmth. Maybe the village idiot wasn't so bad. "Wouldn't *you* like to know," she countered, a touch coy. "I'm good now. Happy? Or annoyed? Time to swear."
A-Dunce looked confused. "Glad you're fine. Swear? What?"
Mystic Mystic Moon rolled her eyes. "You swear to be my retainer for one year! Or you might flake again!"
A-Dunce dropped his gaze. "But… I…"
Summoning courage, he looked up. "Um… How?" *Practical questions first*.
Mystic Mystic Moon almost giggled. "Swear by that bun then! Since it's your life, right? Repeat: *I, [your name], swear to faithfully serve as Mystic Mystic Moon's retainer for one year, staying by her side. Should I break this oath…*" she paused dramatically, "*…may I never taste delicious bread again.*"
"Okay." A-Dunce thought hard, concentrating. "I, A-Dunce, swear to faithfully serve as Mystic Mystic Moon's retainer for one year, staying by her side. Should I break this oath, may I never taste delicious bread again. Like that?"
Mystic Mystic Moon nodded. "Like that. Now… get back outside. Keep watch for silver armor. Templars. Tell me if you see any." She added quickly.
A-Dunce paused. "Mystic Mystic Moon… your dad's looking for you. Why hide? Isn't he… good to you?" A twinge of longing entered his voice.
Mystic Mystic Moon shook her head. "Not bad. But… the Cathedral? Ugh. Boring. The world is crazy and wild and *out here*! Once I'm healed… wanna be Mercenaries? Just for a bit?"
A-Dunce met her gaze. The thought of a father worried for her stirred deep, painful echoes within him. His own father… WatanaOwen, dead… His vision blurred, tears threatening.
"A-Dunce? What's wrong?" Mystic Mystic Moon squeezed his hand, surprised by the raw sorrow she sensed.
The softness of her hand, the unexpected contact, soothed something raw in A-Dunce. He shook his head. "Nothing. I'll look for knights." He gently removed his hand from hers, dropped his worn satchel on the table, hefted the heavy Tianan-Gang Sword onto his back, and left. Her lingering touch brought a strange, soft feeling long after the door closed.
Mystic Mystic Moon watched him go, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. *Hmm. Not just a fool, are you? So many secrets…* A mischievous smile played on her lips. *And digging up secrets? That's my favorite game.*
* * * * *
A-Dunce had barely entered the Guild's main hall when a shiver unrelated to cold prickled his spine. He flexed his inner energy – nothing wrong. He shrugged it off.
The hall was a flurry of activity. Geiger directed half a dozen Mages channeling power to reinforce patches on the ruined walls, while laborers cemented bricks over the gaping hole A-Dunce had made earlier.
Geiger spotted A-Dunce and hurried over, lowering his voice. "How is… *her*?"
A-Dunce nodded. "Seems okay. Tandor't worry, Master Geiger."
Geiger visibly relaxed. "Good. Her dying here? My worst nightmare." He peered closer at A-Dunce. "A-Dunce… you seem like a good kid. A *real* one. But sometimes… too much goodness just gets you kicked. You know that? She's… fire. Blood Skeleton Monk Priest's blood. Pope Mystic's might spans the continent. Cross her? Bad idea. I'm telling you, best put distance between you two."
A-Dunce nodded again. "Thank you, Master Geiger. But she's hurt now. And I swore the oath. Can't break it." Honor was a tangible thing.
Geiger sighed deeply. "Watch your back." He turned as the main doors swung open.
"Master Geiger! Are you here?" A white-robed Monk Priest hurried in, looking flustered. He carried an aura of serene power, though worry etched his features.
Geiger's expression shifted subtly, a mask of welcome falling into place. He stepped forward. "Brother Harry? This is unexpected. Please, come in!"
Monk Priest Harry shook his head. "No time to chat, Geiger. Disaster! Blood Skeleton Monk Priest! Here! Right in our little town!"
Geiger feigned shock expertly. "Blood Skeleton Monk Priest?! Here? What's happened?"
Harry mopped his brow. "Beyond me, honestly. His Eminence arrived like a thunderbolt, ordered every Seer and Knight out looking. For a girl. Fair hair in braids, white clothes. Have you seen her?" His eyes scanned the room eagerly.
Geiger nodded calmly. "Indeed I have."
A-Dunce tensed. *He's telling?*
Harry brightened. "Geiger, my friend! This is huge! Where? Tell me!"
"A young lady in white came earlier," Geiger explained smoothly. "Took her Mage trial. Earned her Junior rank. Then she departed." He spread his hands helplessly.
Harry frowned. "Where to?"
Geiger gave the air a vacant stare. "Who knows? West, perhaps?" The Guild *was* near the west gate. A plausible nudge.
Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "Solid intel! Back to the Blood Skeleton Monk Priest! My thanks, Geiger!" He spun to leave.
The moment Harry Monk Priest's foot crossed the threshold into the street, the very atmosphere in the Mage Guild hall congealed. Everyone – Mages, A-Dunce, even the laborers – froze. An immense, suffocating pressure descended, a tidal wave of pure power. It wasn't hostile, but profoundly *other*. It was sanctity given weight and gravity. The laborers gasped, dropping to their knees, overwhelmed by the sheer presence.
The door swung silently back open. Harry Monk Priest re-entered, but now he moved differently – cowed, humbled. He didn't meet Geiger's eyes but bowed deeply, stepping aside near the wall, every muscle tense with reverence.
"His Eminence… The Blood Skeleton Monk Priest… has arrived," Harry breathed, his voice a hushed whisper of awe.
Geiger's blood ran cold. He locked eyes with A-Dunce. It was futile. Every Mage in the hall instinctively clustered behind Geiger, their expressions frozen masks of apprehension. Power crackled in the air, tangible.
Silver figures moved first. Four Knights in gleaming, articulated silver plate armor filed in silently. They carried ornate closed helmets under their arms. Their faces were impassive granite, their eyes scanning the room with unnerving stillness. Ethereal lines of light traced intricate patterns over their armor as palpable battle energy radiated from them. Emblazoned over each heart: a golden sword emblem. The Knights formed two precise lines.
Two figures in pristine white robes adorned with gold trim glided in next. Their mere presence amplified the hallowed aura tenfold. One figure was slighter, distinctly feminine. Both held wooden staves topped with orbs of purest, lambent crystal that pulsed with cleansing Light. The dense power washing off them intensified the feeling of standing before an altar.
Finally, the red shadow filled the doorway. Blood Skeleton robes, deeper than blood, edged in heavy gold embroidery. The symbol on the chest wasn't subtle – a blazing golden gear inlaid over complex magical circuitry, the signature mark of the Blood Skeleton Monk Priestate. He moved slowly, deliberately. As he stepped fully into the hall, the combined sacred Light radiating from the two Cleric Whites flared, solidifying around him, a tangible mantle. They flanked him silently.
The Blood Skeleton Monk Priest lifted his head. Within the deep hood, two sparks of pure, incisive energy ignited for a single, paralyzing instant. Every person in the hall felt instantly transparent, stripped bare, utterly known under that piercing gaze. Vulnerable. Naked. Terrified.
A low, resonant voice, imbued with quiet command, echoed from within the crimson folds. "Identify yourself."
Geiger stepped forward, trembling visibly. "Your Eminence," he bowed deeply, his voice strained but steady. "I am Geiger, Chapter Master of this Guild branch. We are honored." The liege forms felt clumsy on his tongue.
The Blood Skeleton Monk Priest inclined his head the merest fraction. A formal acknowledgment. "The Architector guides you, Master Mage." The title held weight. "My presence here is drawn." The hood tilted slightly, encompassing the room. "I feel my daughter. She is here." It wasn't a question.
Denial was useless before such absolute certainty. Geiger hesitated only a heartbeat. He bowed again, deeper this time. Confirmation.
The Blood Skeleton Monk Priest shifted his attention. A-Dunce felt the focused regard like a physical weight. "Pure Light-Weaving infused strength. Impressive… for one so young." The voice measured, dissected. "A Mage bearing the Spark of Fire… wielding the shield of the Sacred. Intriguing." The pause was deliberate, commanding. "You know her location. Take me there." The final sentence brooked no argument. The order of a Pope Mystic spoken in a near-whisper that resonated through bone and soul.