The market had not stopped.
It could not.
The chaos was a stone dropped into still water—ripples spreading outward, merchants screaming, shoppers fleeing, stalls collapsing. But at the center, where the scarred man still gripped Jamie's wrist, there was a pocket of terrible stillness.
Maria observed.
Flow Perception shimmered at the edges of her vision, revealing the currents of energy that moved through flesh and stone and air. The scarred man was a Votary—she could see it in the density of his circulation, the weight of his presence. But his control was sloppy. Uneven. His Flow pooled in his extremities, thick and sluggish, like water that had been left too long in the sun.
'Barely trained,' she thought. 'Or self-taught.'
The guards moved forward, hands on their swords, their formation tightening. The scarred man's head snapped toward them.
"Stay back!"
His voice cracked.
Maria's gaze flicked sideways.
Junior looked terrified.
Actually terrified.
His face had gone pale, his lips trembling slightly as he clung to Araba's dress.
Araba herself looked shocked but protective. Her body had already shifted subtly between the danger and the children despite lacking any Flow whatsoever.
Maria respected that instinct immediately. Then her eyes moved to Elias.
And paused. Elias stood perfectly still.
Not frozen. Calculating.
His eyes moved across the scarred man—shoulders, grip, weight distribution—then flicked to the crowd, to the stalls, to the rooftops.
His pocket bulged slightly.
Weapon-shaped.
'Interesting.He hid that well,' she thought.
Either concealed physically with absurd care… or stored inside an artifact before retrieving it quietly.
Her curiosity deepened. She wondered what his next move would be.
The scarred man still held Jamie tightly by the wrist.
Yet strangely—Jamie herself didn't appear frightened at all.
Instead of resisting, she suddenly relaxed completely.
Her body went slack.
At first glance it looked like surrender. But Maria's eyes narrowed instantly.
No.
It was positioning.
The scarred man subconsciously lowered his gaurdy the moment Jamie stopped struggling. It was instinct for predators to relax when prey stopped fighting.
And Jamie exploited it instantly.
Cold gathered. Ice bloomed between her fingers into a thin and sharp shard.
Jamie was an Acolyte—her understanding of her Trait was still elementary, still forming. She could not fully operate on the first level of power and affect concepts with her trait. But she could influence it. Ice was something that could affect strong things.
Ice made things brittle.
Brittle things broke.
Applying this to her weapon, she stabbed the man in the wrist.
The scarred man screamed.
"AAGH—!"
His grip released instantly as blood sprayed from his hand.
Maria's eyes widened slightly.
Not because of the attack itself.
Because of what Jamie had done.
'Oh? So she can even do 'That' huh?'
The scarred man staggered backward clutching his bleeding hand in shock.
"H-how—?!"
Jamie immediately switched expressions. Her shoulders trembled and her eyes watered instantly. She pointed dramatically at the man.
"H-he's the one from last night!"
"He attacked me while I was taking a walk!" Jamie cried.
"What?!" Araba exploded.
Maria nearly choked.
The performance was absurdly convincing. The maternal warmth vanished instantly.Maria physically felt the pressure radiating from the woman despite her lack of Flow.
Araba marched forward with terrifying fury.
"You attacked a little girl?!"
"I didn't—!"
The scarred man pointed wildly.
"She came out of nowhere!"
"You admitted it?!" Araba gasped.
"I MEANT—"
"You followed me last." Jamie lied tearfully.
"I WASN'T FOLLOWING—"
"So you approached her alone?!" Araba snapped.
The man visibly panicked.
"That's not—I didn't—"
"Then why did you grab her?" Araba demanded.
"Because—she—" He stammered. "She was there—"
"She was there? That's your defense?"
The crowd had begun to murmur.
The surrounding civilians had already begun glaring at him with disgust.
"Scum…"
"Child predator…"
"What kind of bastard…"
The scarred man looked moments away from collapsing.
Then five more figures suddenly pushed through the crowd.
"WAIT WAIT WAIT!"
One of them grabbed the scarred man by the collar.
"I'm so sorry," he said quickly.
"He's drunk."
Araba's eyes narrowed.
"He grabbed my niece."
"He's a fool," a woman in the group said. "A pathetic, stupid fool. Please—let us take him home."
The man's companions nodded vigorously, their faces masks of shame.
"WHAT?!" the scarred man sputtered.
"You idiot," another hissed under her breath. "I told you not to cause a scene. Now look."
"We deeply apologize," the first guy continued while bowing repeatedly.
"It won't happen again."
Araba still looked furious.
But after seeing Jamie apparently unharmed, she eventually sighed.
"…Fine. Go before I call the Knights."