‘Why didn’t I notice it?’

  The thought tore through Yor’s head even as the scene unfolded before her. It was true that her astris perception didn’t grant her perfect vision, unless she used Field Vision.

  Just like the normal way of seeing, she also had exploitable blind spots.

  But even so, that was not enough of an excuse.

  Even before acquiring this new sight, she had enhanced senses. Her hearing was sharp and her sense of smell was even sharper. She should have caught it.

  One could make a case that the rotting smell of carcasses impaired her smell, that was true. But her hearing was functioning just right. Then why? Why could not she pick it up in time?

  “Elias!”

  The name ripped from her throat in despair the moment she saw the crimson spray streak across the night sky. She hit the dirt hard, rolled a bit and forced herself upright only to feel a weight drag her down again.

  It was Elias’ body, she fell to the dirt with him. With panic welling up in her chest, she dragged him into her lap.

  “...hurts! It hurts! It hurts! My arm! Ahhhh!!”

  The boy let out a guttural scream as he writhed in pain. At the very least he was still alive, albeit barely. But his left arm was gone, torn completely off at the shoulder as blood spurted in thick bursts.

  The sight shut Yor’s mind down. It went blank. For a moment, she couldn’t process any more thoughts, only the boy’s screams of agony ringing in her ears.

  “No, no, no, no, no…”

  Regaining the least bit of composure she had, she pressed both hands desperately against the wound, trying to force it closed with her palms. However it was futile and the warmth of his blood soaked over her hands and sleeves.

  “S-sorry…I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry! S-stop the blood, I-ll stop the blood! I can fix it. I’ll fix it…I’ll…I’ll…”

  Yor’s voice fell apart as tears welled in her blind eyes, rolling hot and helplessly down her cheeks.

  “I can’t…please, just…I’m sorry”

  She didn’t know what to do. Pressing the wound did not hold back the gush. His hot blood slid between her small fingers no matter how tightly she pressed.

  Her heart pounded and her breath became more heavy and ragged. At this rate, Elias might die of blood loss.

  “Why did you…why did you do that?!”

  The boy had thrown himself into the jaws of death meant for her, and now he was suffering for it. She wanted to know why…why would he risk his life for someone he just met, a complete stranger!

  However, she couldn’t get a response out of him. Only the raw howls tearing his throat apart.

  Meanwhile, Seth engaged the beast. He charged at it with a dagger in his hand and made his attempts at steering it away from Yor and Elias. He swung its steel at the Fallen Soul, clashing with the creature’s slick blackened limbs.

  “Get back!”

  He shouted at the two, but Yor’s mind couldn’t process his words at that moment. The monster counterattacked by whipping its elongated arm like a lash, sending Seth staggered back but unharmed.

  “Silas! What are you waiting for! Come on!”

  “Stop shouting, I’m right behind you”

  His twin darted in from the side, catching the dagger Seth threw his way. He slashed at one of the Fallen Soul’s legs. Black ichor spilled out but it only screeched louder.

  Silas’ face darkened when he realized the dagger he used was stuck onto its flesh, the exact way it got clamped up when Sawatari was in control.

  Just like before, the dagger was useless and when that realization fully dawned on Silas, it was already too late. The monster’s other limb shot out to swat him away.

  The elongated appendage cracked through the air and forced him back with a vicious swipe that nearly split his skull open.

  “Silas!”

  Seeing his twin brother get handled like that, Seth’s astris blazed with reckless red as he threw himself at the creature with nothing but his bare fists.

  And as expected the Fallen Soul swung its grotesque limbs and swatted him aside like a fly. Seth crashed into the dirt with a strangled cry and rolled across the stones.

  While coughing blood, Arthur tried to do something. He struggled to stand and raise his cane sword but his battered body had taken enough abuse. He fell onto his knees, yet he still tried to make his way to the two.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The gentleman could not close the distance in time. And the Fallen Soul was done chewing on Elias’ arm.

  It turned again, empty sockets boring down on the blind girl. Without hesitation, its wet screech shredded the air as it lunged forward, its maw opened to take back its missed target.

  Death barreled toward her, and yet, Yor couldn’t move. Her mind made no attempts at convincing her body to move out of the way and her body didn’t even try.

  She was paralyzed. Locked in place by terror, drowning in guilt and panic. Her whole body was useless. And the sticky blood over her trembling hands only plunged her deeper into despair.

  Her lips barely moved, letting out a whisper.

  “Marcille…help me”

  The shadow of the creature fell over her trembling form, ready to tear her apart

  At the last second, something plummeted from above and struck the monster with such force that the ground quaked beneath the impact.

  The generated shockwave nearly flung Yor and Elias away. She desperately clung onto the boy’s unconscious body and shielded him from the dust and gore.

  Yor’s ears rang from the crash, but through the haze she made out a figure standing tall atop the beast’s writhing carcass, her spear pinned it to the dirt like an insect.

  That figure was a tall, slim woman. Her shoulder length hair whipped in the wind as her grip tightened on the blood slick shaft of her weapon.

  “Marcille…”

  It was her older sister. She had answered her plea, and also…she was angry.

  ***

  Marcille Drapes was beginning to feel as though the world itself was conspiring against her.

  This whole week has been nothing but a disaster. It was one problem after another. How she even allowed her little sister to be part of fulfilling this dangerous job was beyond her.

  Not once did she let her guard down ever since leaving Gray City. And she had made sure to keep Yor as close to her as much as possible. The only time she allowed her out of her sight was when she wanted to go with Arthur.

  She was so cute! Marcille couldn’t bring herself to turn her down, only a truly evil demon would. Besides, everything worked out.

  Even now as she was out of her side, she cannot help but worry for her safety. But Arthur and Agnes are with her so it should be fine.

  Those thoughts kept her somewhat calm.

  Her little sister, the youngest of them all. Adorable, awkward, earnest and bright. She was almost the same age as Willow, only a few days separated them, which technically made Willow the older one.

  That fact still amused Marcille, bringing a small smile to her tired face. The way Yor sometimes carried herself like she bore years beyond her actual age, when in truth she was the baby of the family.

  Marcille shook her head. Come to think of it, this week so far has not only been stressful but it was also strange.

  When she came home Monday, Yor was behaving differently. Especially in her manner of speech. The change was not drastic, but it was enough for Marcille to nitpick.

  What truly surprised her was the way Yor apologized to her during their astris practice session. The girl had bowed to her…

  There was nothing wrong with bowing…it was just odd. It left her speechless for a moment.

  In the Tinsel Kingdom, common folk such as them did not lower their heads for every little thing. Such a display was mainly reserved for those selfish nobles!

  That was manners often done in the Godfather Republic, a nation from the north and one of the Three Great Powers in the Auren continent.

  It was a polite enough gesture, yes but not one of their customs.

  Still, none of that excused the fact that she had attacked her own little sister, mistaking her for a Fallen Soul.

  Marcille grimaced at the memory, even now she had not forgotten the guilt threading like iron through her chest. Yor was growing, yes, and she was bound to change whether she liked it or not. She wasn’t always going to remain the child she pictured in her heart.

  That truth was something Marcille was struggling to accept. And as much as she wanted to shield all of her siblings from everything, she had to accept that.

  She still had to give Yor a proper apology. Their neighbor deserved one too.

  After that incident, Marcille had treated her badly, even though her intentions for Yor were well founded, Marcille still couldn’t look over the fact she implanted a Sacrament in her little sister. But even so, she felt a strong urge to make things right with her.

  Grace Windsor, the woman had been nothing but good to them after their mother’s death and father’s mysterious disappearance. Not only had she helped them with rent and food expenses in hard times, but she was also educating Yor without charging a single wen.

  Marcille could not take her to a proper institution because of her blindness, it was even more crippling to those catered for people like her. No institution in the Kingdom would ever do the same thing that woman did.

  She had extended kindness where none had reason to. For that, Marcille was eternally grateful.

  But….Grace’s strange interest in Leo. It was unsettling, but perhaps she was overthinking it and that caused her to see and hear imaginary things.

  Maybe the woman simply admired his cooking. After all, even Yor of all people had complimented Leo’s food, instead of dismissing him as usual.

  To be fair, his cooking was really good. It's like something one would find in a noble’s supper table prepared by a seasoned chef rather than a teenage boy.

  Maybe…maybe she should send him to a proper culinary school. If he honed this talent of his, then he could be the greatest chef in the Kingdom.

  This wasn’t the first time she had that thought.

  Whenever she saw him work or tasted his food, she would picture the 15 year old boy but much older, with an apron tied over his shirt while standing in a pristine kitchen, his short auburn hair catching the light, and his round glasses reflecting all the people praising his exceptional gift.

  Yes…that was her brother’s future.

  Her heart warmed up even more at the image. But her terrible habit of always thinking for the worst soured the dream.

  To be clear, those schools were not cheap. Not at all. Even the lesser culinary institutes demanded at least 600 wens per semester, while the prestigious ones could demand a thousand or more.

  The best one she could think of was the Saffron Hall Academy of Culinary Arts, located in Amberly Cross. Its tuition demanded 1200 wens per semester.

  And her pay as a Vulture was barely enough to keep them as working class citizens. If she stretched every wen and scant, took on more jobs, then maybe she could scrape it together.

  But there was Willow’s school fees, which were 150 wens per term. And Leo’s own 170 wens per term. It did not stop there.

  She had to think about stationary materials, their clothing, groceries, as well as other expenses such as rent which cost 5 wens and 12 scants per week. Adding all of those, the math was suffocating.

  Add in her crippling debt to the Chunjiheti Guild.

  The mere thought of it made her want to fold herself into her knees and stay there. This was clearly way too much, and she was only 17 years old, yet she was already under so much pressure.

  ‘Why am I in so much debt?’

  Marcille pondered, but a slap on the shoulder woke her up and tightly gripped her spear.

  “Did you see pick up something, Marcy?”

  The question came from Tansy.