"An undead attacked her!?" Quincy blurted out, eyes wide as Ulrich finished recounting what had happened at the Ranging Eagle inn.
"Yup. No doubt about it," the Bandit Lord replied, pulling his cutlasses free and holding them out. Blood still streaked along their steel, dark and sluggish. "The way he shrugged off my blades? That bastard wasn't human."
"Let me see one," Vilak said, stepping forward and holding out his hand.
"Same here," Quincy added, moving beside the necromancer.
Ulrich gave a small shrug and handed over one sword to each of them.
Vilak took his staff and traced its tip down the bloodied edge of the cutlass. The black gemstone embedded in its crown shimmered faintly, responding to the presence of necrotic energy. Beside him, Quincy—less ceremonious—brought the flat of the blade to her mouth and licked it.
The moment it touched her tongue, she recoiled.
"Goddess, that's putrid! Definitely undead. Not vampire or half-blood either," she gagged, handing the blade back.
Even made a face. "You licked it? Why the hell would you lick random blood?"
Quincy shrugged as she wiped her mouth, still grimacing.
Vilak didn't even glance up. "It's wight blood," he said calmly. "No question. Rare creatures. Unstable. Very emotional and extremely hard to kill permanently."
He handed the cutlass back to Ulrich, who sheathed both blades with a click.
"Zara's okay, right?" Clara asked, worry etched into her voice for her friend. "She wasn't hurt?"
Ulrich shook his head. "Nah. She's fine. I'm the one that caught a hit to the ribs," he said with a grin, patting his side with a wince. Then he looked toward Calvinel. "And hey, good call telling me to follow her."
Calvinel let out a slow breath, nodding. "Just glad you're both alright."
Bryanard stepped in hesitantly, placing a hand on the younger knight's shoulder. "You made a good decision," he said before quietly stepping back again.
Calvinel blinked. "Haven't heard that in a while…"
Xain shifted in his seat and spoke up, tone more serious. "Shouldn't we… do something? I mean, Princess Zara was attacked. Two people died. Ulrich got hurt. We can't just sit on this."
Zeva crossed her arms. "Like what? Sure, we know the assassin was undead, had ghost-white hair, black eyes, used Aerunan weapons—and let's be honest, he was trying to frame them. But beyond that?" She shook her head. "He's probably changed his appearance by now. No way to track him."
All eyes drifted to the assassin in the room. Lexy raised her brows, looking around at the group staring at her.
"What?" she said. "You think just because I'm an assassin I can track one? It doesn't work like that."
"Well…" Roland gestured toward Elsa. "Can't she track him? She's got ritual magic. We have his blood."
Elsa tapped her chin, thinking.
"I could," she said slowly, "but only if I had the right ritual. Most of the ones I know are support-based—helping other casters, enhancing spellwork. Not much in the way of tracking."
Quincy sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. "Alright. Then for now I'll go talk to the mayor. At the very least, we need to increase security."
She was already heading toward the door when Even stood and followed after her.
"I'm coming with you," he said.
Quincy paused and looked back with a smirk. "Oh yeah? And why's that?"
Even shrugged. "I'm a Mathers. He'll take it more seriously if I say it."
Quincy chuckled, grabbed his hand, and yanked him along. "Uh huh. Sure. Come on then."
As Quincy and Even disappeared out the door, Lia leaned against the table, her arms folded and a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "He's in love at this point, I'm pretty sure," she murmured.
Dirk glanced after them, his expression unreadable for a beat before he gave a faint nod and the thinnest flicker of a smile. "Looks like it."
Not far from them, Mae tilted her head and tapped her cheek with a mischievous grin. "So the princess can fight, huh~?"
Zee groaned under her breath. "I know what you're thinking. Just… don't."
Mae laughed and leaned over, ruffling her twin's hair. "Alright, alright. Just for you, little sister~"
Zee pouted and tried to swat her hand away, cheeks puffed in irritation as Mae cackled to herself.
Meanwhile, Clara made her way over to Ulrich, concern still lingering in her eyes. "So… where did Zara go? After you explained everything to the guards?"
Ulrich adjusted the strap across his shoulder, wincing slightly from his bruised ribs. "Back to the inn she and her brother are staying at. Don't worry, I made sure she got there safely."
Clara let out a soft sigh, visibly relieved. The tension in her shoulders eased, though a shadow of uncertainty lingered in her gaze. She knew Zara didn't exactly have the warmest relationship with her family—and Mark especially.
"I just hope he's not rude to her," she murmured, almost to herself.
---
It was a strange scene.
Stranger still was the feeling spreading through Zara's chest, tight and unfamiliar. Her heart pounded against her ribs, loud in her ears, and she stood completely frozen in place. Of all the ways she'd imagined this going, this—this moment—hadn't even crossed her mind.
Because for the first time since they were children… Mark was hugging her.