Hearing that, Seraphine stiffened. This did not go unnoticed by Armand and Flint. However, her expression behind the steel fan remained unchanged.
"Did you always talk this much, Freya?"
All of a sudden, the swordsmen fell to the floor with a twirl of her fan. More precisely, they seemed to be pinned to the ground by an invisible weight. Groaning, they tried to resist, but to no avail. The gigantic swordsman seemed to be struggling, too, but he managed to stand upright by forcing his sword into the ground. Meanwhile, Freya looked at Seraphine coldly, her grip on her staff tightening as she fought the spell's impact directly.
"Gravity magic? How old-fashioned." The stone at the end of her staff glowed a murky grey as she slammed it onto the ground. "Casso ie varázslatot!" With the invisible weight lifted, the swordsmen groaned in relief as they rolled on the floor.
However, before she finished her magic annulment spell, Seraphine already executed her next attack. Large vines sprouted from the wooden planks on the floor towards the attackers, quickly coiling around and binding their hands, feet, and even covering their mouths, muffling their screams. Dots of white morning glories bloomed beautifully across the vines, painting a quite bizarre picture.
Unfortunately, the giant swordsman, Igor, managed to grab onto Freya and jumped out of the vines' reach just in time, slashing and clearing the ones in the way. Freya raised her eyebrow and chuckled. From Igor's shoulder, she lifted her staff and pointed it at the centre of the vines; the stone at the end of her staff glowed menacingly. A spark flickered from the fire embers hanging on the wall as she conjured a spell.
Seraphine had a bad feeling. She immediately turned to Armand and Flint. "Grab Darryl! Get back!"
"Ugh!"
Armand put up a holy barrier around the four of them just in time as an explosion went off. A deafening blast, along with shockwaves from the explosion, propelled them crashing against the window and down to the ground. Seraphine quickly conjured a wind spell to slow their landing, with Armand safely carrying Darryl in his arms.
Above them, the second-story room they were staying in had been engulfed by flames. The sound and the heat from the blaze had definitely woken up the entire area, as the noises of people grew louder.
"Ugh, that crazy woman..." Seraphine muttered, patting herself down and cleaning her clothes from glass shards and debris. She had been trying to use low-impact magic to avoid making a scene like this, but Freya did not seem to give a damn about that or about her foot soldiers.
Looking up towards the broken window, she saw two robed silhouettes jumping onto the roof. Under the moonless night, Freya's striking dark eyes caught hers, a smirk on her face.
Her voice, amplified with magic for the four of them, sounded as clear as if she had been standing in front of them.
"It was fun playing with you, little Sera. We will meet again. Now I need to tell 'him' that you've returned, I'm sure that 'he' will be pleased to hear that."
Before Seraphine could muster a response, the two presences disappeared.
*********
Dealing with the aftermath could have been a headache, but thankfully, they avoided any diplomatic complications as Dame Arden - who coincidentally lived in the area - handled the case personally.
Armand and Flint stepped onto a mess of blood, ash, and dust, trying to gather what remained of their belongings. Fortunately, they were no stranger to this kind of ambush, so their items stored in enchanted bags seemed to be semi-intact. Darryl looked around at the devastation somewhat curiously, having nothing to do as he did not have many belongings in the first place.
"Seriously?" Flint moaned as he held his saddle bag, which had been partly torn. "Do you know how expensive this enchanted bag is?? I just got it repaired two months ago!"
Armand sighed heavily. Seraphine, who had been staying in the adjacent room, was quite lucky. Although seeing as she had a sub-space storage, she would have most likely escaped unscathed anyway. For the first time, he seriously considered buying one. The problem was that the cost would be astronomical, and even though he was officially the second son of a First Regent, he had not received allowance from the Fontaine house since he turned 13. Holy knights were known to be strong and just, not rich.
The innkeeper, whose face sank like the world had just ended after looking at the condition of the room, suddenly brightened when Seraphine pulled out a dozen gold coins and handed them to him.
"Thank you very much, Miss! Please...err...come again!"
Dame Arden, who followed them into the scorched room, shook her head and sighed. "Looks like we're dealing with really vicious criminals here. I'm glad you guys are alright. But please, I must insist that you guys stay at the Citadel from now on. I can't ensure your safety otherwise."
"We'll be fi-" Flint started to speak up, but Armand cut him off, smiling. "Thank you for the offer, Dame. I think we'll take it up for tonight."
The Dame nodded. "That's a wise decision, Sir Fontaine. I will notify the Magistrate now."
"It's quite late, maybe it's best if we don't trouble him."
"Knowing him, he'd probably still be awake anyway."
After the Dame stepped out of the room, Flint turned towards Armand, his expression serious.
"What made you change your mind? I thought you wanted to keep the number of people who know you're here as few as possible."
Armand shook his head. "We can't afford another ambush like this. You've seen those two attackers, they're of different calibre. Without Miss Seraphine, there's a chance we wouldn't have been able to wake up in time to face them at all. Also..." He lowered his voice. "There's something I'd like to check in the Citadel."
"Mm." Perhaps reading his mind, Flint only grunted in response. He then turned to Darryl. "Hey, kid, you doing okay?"
Darryl nodded, seemingly uninjured. "I'm fine."
"It's quite a gruesome sight for a young man - let's get out of here."