A guard buttoned his jacket tightly, cursing the morning cold, and leaned against the stone ledge, watching the movement of people on the Krussgard bridge. He saw a group of armed people on horseback and for a moment stood at attention, worried it was something serious, but a colleague told him they were the Empress's soldiers. At that point, he ignored the group and returned to his work.
The armed group was busy listening to the operation leader's instructions and kept an eye on the prisoner leading them to his allies' gathering place. Scarlett wore her dark leather armor with her weapons in plain sight, but she didn't worry about the Krussgard soldiers' reactions. After all, they couldn't intervene due to the Empress's influence.
"Which way?"
Scarlett waited for the man to point the way and, when he did, looked at her companions, silently communicating what they should do if the prisoner lied. The man in question had an impassive expression but showed signs of suffering on his face: during the interrogation, he had taken some hard hits from the men working for Scarlett. They weren't as patient as she was when asking questions.
The stranger hadn't expected to be identified and captured so easily: Derek had recognized him among the fort's staff, having caught him red-handed when inspecting the black stones with his collaborator. Extracting information from the prisoner hadn't been complicated, but trusting him could be dangerous. Iza, in fact, always suspected those who confessed so quickly.
The man had disclosed the location where the Umgardian traitors would meet, but they didn't know the threat level of the situation. Their involvement in a demon's plans automatically made them enemies of the Order and they would be arrested or killed on sight. The extraordinary abilities of this secret group and the support of the Empress of Atenarte guaranteed them great influence. This was evident even to Iza, who had experienced firsthand what it meant to be their prey. That being said, no one was truly invincible, and confronting the demonic world put not only their lives but also their souls at risk. Demons were powerful and unpredictable beings, driven by the desire to kill and feed on people in their entirety.
"It could be a trap." Iza didn't fear a confrontation with Scarlett. She wanted to be certain of what they were doing, so as not to risk her life needlessly.
"We must find the culprits and deal with them before they carry out their plan, whatever it may be. We have the tools to defend ourselves even against a demon. Let's not waste any more time."
Scarlett said no more, lingering briefly on Iza, and the group set off toward their destination, venturing into the woods. The tree canopy offered shelter from the sun's rays, and the path was wide and clear enough to allow the horses to pass without issue. The prisoner continued to give directions, and Scarlett followed them without hesitation.
At one point, Iza lost her patience and decided to get close enough to the woman to speak to her without being overheard by the others. The alliance with the Empress of Atenarte was forced by the situation they were in, and for this reason, she wouldn't trust them blindly.
"We don't know what their plan is or how they'll use those stones. Have you ever seen anything like it?"
"No, but it's possible they're used to summon the demon. A sort of catalyst..."
"Summoning powerful demons requires many sacrifices..."
Iza's words were more of a statement than a question, and they caught Scarlett off guard, as she hadn't considered it until that moment. She observed her more closely and, before answering, considered her role: she was surely an important figure for the Queen of Arran, a spy working in the shadows... just like her. They had different training and objectives, but they both fought in the service of someone powerful, for their protection and their own goals. The Order fought for the freedom of all, to defend humanity from the demon threat, and Scarlett was one of the organization's most loyal members. After all, she had seen with her own eyes the evil that demons bring; it was carved onto her skin, an immovable scar that carried horrific memories of a massacre in a remote village... Scarlett had been six years old at the time, but the trauma she suffered had branded her heart to the point of leaving unforgettable, terrible memories and nightmares for years.
It was likely, almost certain, that there would be sacrifices.
"Demons always leave trails of blood behind them..." she said aloud, though it was a personal reflection. Iza didn't seem intimidated by the situation, and this was something Scarlett particularly appreciated. She needed strong people by her side for a mission like this. The Order taught new recruits right from the start what happened to the weak: those who didn't meet the requirements to join the organization were immediately cast out or forced to undergo grueling training. Weakness was an obstacle; it only led to death and failure.
"Have you had a chance to scout the area?"
"Yes, quickly." The woman then turned to the prisoner: "Where?"
"We're almost there. There's a small cave. They'll perform the ritual there."
Derek had been keeping an eye on the man since the start of the journey and immediately noticed the change in his facial expression and tone of voice: it was clear he was leading them into a trap. A section of the rope was in his hand, and he gripped it tightly, ensuring a firm hold in case of an escape attempt by the prisoner. Derek raised his eyes toward the break in the vegetation, which until moments before had been dense, and saw the cave the man had mentioned. The person closest to the prisoner hurried to gag him with a cloth. They couldn't risk him alerting his comrades.
They dismounted their horses and quickly discussed a plan of action, deciding to split up to secure the perimeter and initiate the operation. Iza and Derek followed Scarlett toward the cave opening, hugging the wall and walking with stealthy steps so no one inside would notice their movements. A whistle confirmed to the operation leader that the perimeter was secure.
The group waited for a signal from Scarlett, but she stood listening intently to the sounds coming from inside the cave. Silence was dangerous, and Scarlett knew for certain that going in without a plan would put her group at a severe disadvantage. She decided to leave two men with the prisoner, and the rest of the group followed her toward the cave entrance. Shrouded in silence and darkness, the team advanced, guided by Scarlett and a small blue light she had conjured with a tiny instrument she held in her hands.
Iza had never seen such an object. She had to admit she wanted to deepen her knowledge of Atenarte's revolutionary discoveries in the realm of magic. As a child, she had read fairy tales about spirits and magic, but she had never believed in those things, despite wishing to. Discovering the existence of a mage like Alex had rekindled a part of her she had buried with her childhood, and she wanted to pursue that curiosity. Perhaps, once peace was restored, she could follow her desires.
"A secret passage." Scarlett illuminated the wall, noticing cracks that extended to the floor. She felt the surrounding surface until she found what had to be a hidden button. Before pressing it, she asked the group to step back. Soon the passage opened, and Scarlett turned to her allies: "They might be close. Eliminate any targets attempting to flee or attack."
Iza gritted her teeth and grabbed the woman's shoulder before she could proceed: "And the victims? The sacrifices?"
"If they can be saved, we'll take them to a safe place."
At that point, they delved into a dark corridor, and Scarlett soon gave the order to kill the lights to stay in the shadows. They began to hear voices, whispers, and what sounded like a prayer recited in unison. At the end of the corridor, a circular space came into view, and from afar, the red blood staining the rock and the torchlight illuminating a large circle drawn on the floor were clearly visible. Inside the circle, bodies arranged in various spots could be seen, and hooded figures stretched their hands toward the center of the circular shape.
"Stop the ritual."