Even when the path ahead appears clear, seek guidance twice to ensure certainty. For even the most familiar road can hide unseen obstacles, and a second voice may reveal what the first did not.

  - The Book of Wise Tellings from the Land of Streams.

  I was in the land of quandary, that place cursed where the human will goes to die. To do no nothing, I would lose the competition and face the judgment of the crowd, but to intervene to save Aelayah would mean that I would lose everything. Could the world be so cruel?

  Another second passed, diminishing my chances at succeeding in either choice. Kanaia stood strong, or at least did a good impression of it, her smile that of a victor.

  Growling, I fled, rushing toward Lady Aelayah. No one moved to stop me, and to any casual observer, it must have looked like I was simply turning tail. Biting down my pride, it stung as I leaped out of the fighting area, running and leaping at full speed toward the Holder princess, whose mouth had widened into a comical 'O' of surprise.

  A murmur followed in my wake, growing louder with each step, feeding on itself like a living thing. The men in dark purple were closing in on their target… and then, something snapped. It was like a mental whiplash, the sudden breaking of the link between Kanaia and me as I moved out of range. A part of me had hoped the spell would finish her off.

  Frustration welled up as the energy flow left me, leaving an emptiness in its wake. Howling with rage, I activated Improved Dash and Rush Strike, using their boosted speed to devour the distance between us. Ice and bitter cold trailed in my footsteps, as if winter itself deigned to walk beside me.

  Where was Aelayah’s guard? From what I could see, only Farzan stood by her, one hand on the jeweled sword at his hip. Nowhere near enough protection for the Lady. The Council guards remained still, making no effort to stop the men in purple. The whole situation reeked of betrayal and conspiracy.

  Farzan drew his sword, positioning himself between Lady Aelayah and the attackers in purple. Though a bit of a peacock, Farzan was competent—maybe even good with a blade—but it wouldn’t be enough. Not by far.

  I was beginning to realize that, fast as I was, I would not make it in time. But that didn’t stop me from trying. I pushed my body to its limits, activating my skills in rapid succession, barely letting them come off cooldown.

  My vision tunneled, focused solely on reaching Aelayah. The world shrank to a single point. It was only after a few precious seconds that I noticed a figure appear from nowhere—masked in browns and greens, wielding dual short swords or long knives, and weaving a barrier of flashing steel. Undeterred, the purple-clad men brandished hidden daggers and blades of their own.

  Caught off guard by this sudden turn of events, I was too slow to react when a Council Guard stepped in my path. I barreled into him without hesitation, hardly registering that he had once been part of my escort—the traitorous cur.

  Time was being bought—paid for by the masked figure’s dance of blades as he blocked the attackers with a wall of sharp steel, not letting a single one past. But he was not some hero from the epics, destined to save the day. Facing more than five times your number is the stuff of stories and songs, not reality. The way he moved, the economy of movement, stirred a familiar memory of a man who fought with a similar style.

  If I could, I would save him. It felt like the right thing to do, and against all reason, the voices within agreed.

  As I closed the final gap, I saw the light of understanding flicker in the eyes of Aelayah’s would-be assassins. It was the bitter realization of failure, and it filled my empty heart with joy, like stumbling upon an oasis after crossing a desert. I had come.

  Then, a sharp realization hit me—I had no weapon, and my Stamina had dropped to less than half. No matter. I summoned my Mimic Shield, watching as tendrils of wormy organic matter formed into a formidable, spiked tower shield. Now, I had more than enough to handle these miscreants.

  I launched into a Shield Bash—Improved Shield Bash, now—sending me hurtling behind the spiked shield. It crashed into one of the attackers, the spikes tearing through unarmored flesh before sending the man flying. Still, the Council guards did not move a muscle to intervene, as if they were deaf and blind to these events.

  No one moved. Not a single representative from the Great Houses of Al-Lazar made a move.

  Farzan stood almost glued to Lady Aelayah, holding his gem-encrusted sword in a cautious low guard. He shivered slightly, giving me the barest nod but made no move to assist. Some friend he was.

  Another blow came, aimed at my feet of all places. I blocked it, slamming the man’s wrist hard against the ground. He must’ve thought attacking from my blindside, where my shield blocked my vision, would work. Fool. My Mimic’s eye left me with no such disadvantage.

  As he writhed on the ground, screaming, I ended him with a swift kick to his skull.

  I needed no assistance—these men in purple were no match for my Skill. They seemed sluggish, their strength and speed drained as my aura slowly ate away at them. It was easy to grind them down, using my abilities repeatedly until they were reduced to pitiful wrecks.

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  Just as I considered using Heal to keep one alive for questioning, they all suddenly went still. Before I could react, a flood of new notifications bombarded me.

  Had these failed assassins taken the coward's way out? To my annoyance, I noticed some of my experience had been halved, sparking a small flare of irritation.

  "Gil, old pal… A little help here? If you could just grab a potion I saved for an emergency like this from my pack…" came a familiar, if irritating, voice from the floor.

  I sighed. "Elwin… what are you doing here?"

  "Playing the hero… I know, it doesn’t suit me. Can we chat later? I’ve got a few holes in me that really don’t fit my character," he wheezed. "Getting stabbed and leaking everywhere is a young man’s game."

  I used Identify on Elwin’s prone form to confirm the truth of his words.

  Sure enough, the Rogue’s Health was steadily dropping as his life bled away. More than that, I noticed his basic attributes and base level had improved significantly over the years. Was auto-scaling, that dreaded mechanic, part of this world’s system? Did the challenge of this world revolve around my level? What lazy design, I thought bitterly, almost spitting on the floor.

  Or had he simply been training, like I had? Whatever the reason, it had clearly paid off.

  "Gilgamesh!" Aelayah’s voice called out, demanding my attention.

  She did not seem panicked or upset, though. Instead, she wore the expression of someone who had missed a meal, as if all of this was just an annoyance. Only a faint tremor in her voice and a slight shiver betrayed her real discomfort with the situation.

  "A moment, our ally requires my assistance," I replied curtly, my tone verging on dismissive.

  It would have been easier to search for Elwin’s stashed healing potion, but I was not of the mind to gamble with time. Calling upon the power of Heal while still maintaining my Auras was difficult, but not impossible. In fact, with a life hanging in the balance before me, the spell came more easily. It was as if the magic itself sought to fulfill its purpose.

  Placing my hands on my old companion, I channeled the revitalizing magic into him. A warm sense of satisfaction filled me as I watched his Health surge back to nearly full, the draining paleness of his face replaced by a healthier hue.

  The wiry man staggered to his feet, his movements unsteady but functional. “Knew you had it in you, my boy. I’d doff my hat to you if I was wearing one, but you’ll just have to settle for my heartfelt thanks!" He shivered slightly, rubbing his arms. "Bit cold though, isn’t it? Odd for this time of year.”

  “Gilgamesh,” Farzan called, his voice laced with a slight tremor. His teeth chattered as the unnatural chill clung to him, his breath visible in the air.

  It was then that I noticed the biting cold emanating from me, my aura still active. A thin layer of frost had formed on the surfaces of the spectator’s box, the contrast between the icy patch and the lazy afternoon heat strikingly apparent. The air around me shimmered with the frosty remnants of my power, as if winter itself had settled into the warm day.

  With a concentrated effort, I began to pull back my Auras. It was more difficult than I had expected, like trying to wrestle a large, slippery eel. The magic resisted, wanting to linger, but after a tense struggle, I managed to regain control, the cold slowly retreating from the air around us.

  Aelayah crossed her arms, her tone dripping with petty sarcasm. "More secrets? More hidden depths? This cold… could only be caused by someone walking the path of Mana. And our would-be savior here," she gestured to Elwin, who gave her a jaunty bow, "seems perfectly fine now, despite being on death’s doorstep just moments ago."

  "This place is supposed to be protected by the Council. Looks like Alim’s finally tossed tradition out the window," she continued, biting down on her thumbnail, her freakish narrowed in thought. "I misjudged them… as they’ve clearly misjudged me. Enough. We’re leaving. Back to the estates."

  "Leaving before the final ceremony?" Farzan protested.

  "It would be a loss of face and a sign of weakness. By the rules of the Festival, Gilgamesh has already lost. There’s no reason for us to stay."

  "Perhaps I do have a reason," I interjected. "Vengeance, served fresh, tastes most sweet."

  Aelayah's scathing reply was immediate. "And fight them here? Where we do not know who is enemy or who is friend? Spoken like a man either drunk on death or simply mad."

  "I'm all for the 'getting away' part," Elwin chimed in, his tone saucy. "Less for the 'standing around discussing our options' part. Elwin, at your service, gracious holy ladyship person."

  "Gilgamesh. Farzan. And you... Elwin," she said, pronouncing Elwin’s name as if he were a pest. "You will escort me to my estates."

  "Well, let’s just go then," I growled. "We can flap lips along the way."

  Just as I finished, a commotion erupted—a wail of panic as more violence broke out. Council guards rushed to contain a towering, armored man wielding a massive hewing spear, almost the length of a pike. He charged through them like they were nothing, knocking them over like pins.

  "GILGAMESH!" the giant bellowed, as if issuing a challenge.

  "Thought you might want to know," Elwin chimed in with a casual shrug, "the big guy’s back from his ‘En’ thing to face you, like you two apparently promised. You know how he is with vows and honor… very serious stuff."

  Trailing behind the big man’s path of destruction was Larynda, grinning like a child with a staff clutched in each hand. She pointed in our direction and the giant nodded.

  "I think we’ve got a decent enough escort to break through now, Lady Aelayah," I said grimly, picking up a long dagger from the ground, its weight a welcome comfort in my hand.

  "I hope you’re right," Aelayah hissed through clenched teeth. "For that barbarian just openly assaulted the Council itself!"