549: Damned Fool
“No way!” Beatrice’s objection was instant. “Olivia is still somewhere inside. I heard those two captains talking: she ran up. She went after her sister!”
“Well then they’re both finally reunited in death,” Ember shrugged.
“Again, with that!?”
“Hey, she’s the one that abandoned us the second that a real threat appeared! Serves her right!”
“And if she stayed, you’d probably complain that she’s in the way.”
“… Probably. Phew, at least the air is a little better here.”
Ember and Beatrice walked out onto the edge of what was left of this part of the fortress. And with the thick clouds of dust spreading out into the open, the duo was now overlooking the city in the early morning light, with the sun yet to appear. A city that was overpopulated and overbuilt in ways that begged for a disaster of one form or another.
Beneath was total destruction. A whole populated area in the shadow of Belmot’s fortress was completely buried in the rubble with countless more buildings either damaged or destroyed. People were already gathering about, looking for survivors, trying to figure out what happened.
Looking at countless roofs with giant holes in them, Beatrice wondered how many were lucky enough to wake up from the destruction of their home. How many didn’t? How many were now lying mutilated and bleeding out beneath the rubble. In pain, in the dark, crying, alone, or worse—next to a dead relative. No, it could be worse still, but Beatrice shook her head trying to ignore the increasingly morbid thoughts.
“Wouldn’t you rather help those poor folk down there?” Ember asked Beatrice.
“That’s a trick question,” Beatrice answered. She did want to help them. All else aside, choosing to look for Olivia who might be already dead instead of the countless people she could save was a very selfish choice. But Beatrice could not go there.
“This is about to become the biggest gathering of city guards and anyone strong enough to make a difference,” Beatrice said. “Any remaining Purple Capes will come here now, maybe even soldiers from the palace. We were already wanted before this. Even if all the strong people worth mentioning were dead, if I went down there to help, it would just start more fighting with the remaining guards and result in even more injured instead of helping those in need. You know this.”
“Yeah, I would prefer to get out of here as fast as possible. Especially with whoever caused this still lurking around. But… Since you’re dead set on sticking around to look for Olivia’s corpse we might just end up being better off inside the remains of the fortress than out there in the wide open.”
When Ember said that she pointed up to the sky with her index finger. Beatrice looked up and saw a surreal scene. She saw a lot of weird things in this world, and in some way, this wasn’t anything special. If one was to explain it away with “it’s magic”.
Beatrice saw the standing remains of Belmot’s fortress, reaching high toward the sky as it did ever before. As it became apparent, only a part of Belmot’s fortress had collapsed. However, it made no sense why most of it would be standing. It wasn’t like one independent section had been destroyed and another remained. Rather, it looked as if a part of it was sliced off in the middle by some God-like being. Or, rather, it resembled what would have happened if an angry child stomped on half of his sandcastle and then left the other part to be washed away by the approaching sea.
Blocks still kept falling one by one from open floors that were left without supporting outer walls. A few foolish heads appeared peeking out over the edge to see what had happened. Screams came from panicked survivors within the fortress just like from the city below.
“I think I see a way up,” Ember said. “Also, you also did promise Samantha practically everything within the fortress. So, we better hurry up—that thing won’t remain standing forever.”
_____
High above the city, on the peak of a tower of a fortress of another lord too insignificant to mention, stood a young woman in a black gothic sleeveless dress, with a big top hat with a black feather on her head. She looked at the aftermath of the destruction with differently colored eyes: one blood red, the other black.
“Damned fool,” she sighed and raised her arm.
Dark aura of black and red gathered and swirled around the young woman with long black hair. And as she channeled her powers, she felt a response from the wreckage of Belmot’s fortress.
One after another, visible, mist-like dark energies seeped through the cracks from beneath the rubble in the city, as well as from all over the ruins within Belmot’s fortress. Tens at first, then hundreds, these energies flew up towards the peak of the lesser fortress that stood miles and miles away, all to a single point in the palm of the raised hand of the Third Princess, Samira.