Slowly, the girl retreated.

  "What are you waiting for, kid? Shoot that thing!" Garreth barked halfway down the steps, sabre drawn.

  "But... our evidence!"

  "It won't matter if we don't live to tell the tale. So just do it!"

  Her weapon poised, Lynn clenched her hand into a fist, firing the quarrel. It struck the golem dead in the chest, sinking deep into its rigid form. Within seconds, the sculpture crumbled into dust, the mithril nullifying the power that controlled it. More orcish figures came to life, casting away their canvas sheets like blankets as if roused from their deep slumber. And the swarm of golems surrounded the man and the half-elf, threatening to overwhelm them.

  Garreth vaulted over the railing and leapt from the staircase, landing with a thud beside his partner and brandishing his blade. "Kid, take the high ground and snipe the ones in the back. I'll take care of the ones up front and keep them from climbing the steps, got it?"

  "Got it!" With a nod, Lynn scrambled up the staircase, finding a position that gave her a clear vantage over the advancing green horde. Adroitly, she reloaded her crossbow with another mithril bolt, her heart pounding in her chest as she honed in on the group of orcs at the back.

  On the ground, Garreth stepped forth, swinging his sword in devastating arcs. A terracotta figure lunged at him, frighteningly quick for something so bulky. With a grunt, the man sidestepped the attack and drove his blade into the golem's abdomen; the sabre sparked against the clay, and the sculpture was reduced to a heap of inert clay. "Stay sharp, kid!" He called out as he deflected another blow. "Chances are, Holstein is around here!"

  From up above, Lynn loosed a projectile, hitting an orcish golem square in the head. "I-I don't see him from up here! These are golems, aren't they? Didn't you say you sensed no magicks?!"

  "That's the strange part, kid! The only explanation I can think of is that this bastard's somehow capable of hiding his mana signature. Which would also explain how I didn't sense his magicks back at the factory." Garreth dispatched two more golems with a sweep of his blade.

  One by one, the pair destroyed the earthenware mannequins, gradually clearing the wave. Blocking and dodging the onslaught of assailants, the man slashed his way through packs of golems. Meanwhile, scores of them were picked off one by one by the half-elf, her pouch of quarrels feeling lighter with every successful shot she made. When they were down to the last half a dozen, Garreth espied a silhouette against the open doorway and directed Lynn toward it.

  "That's him by the door, kid! Get him—!"

  Before the man could run after him, he was seized from behind. Massive arms clamped around his midsection, lifting him off the floor with crushing pressure. And Garreth gasped, the air forced from his lungs, and dropped his sword as he struggled against the golem's unyielding grip.

  "Garreth!" Lynn shouted from her perch, shakily aiming at the living statue that had grabbed hold of her partner.

  "Leave... me! Get... Holstein!" Garreth bellowed, gritting his teeth as he tried to break free.

  Crossbow trembling in her hands, the half-elf hesitated.

  Holstein's profile vanished from her field of vision as she once again debated whether to follow orders or save her partner. Her indecision lasted only a second, however. Lynn jutted her jaw, took a deep breath, and lined up her shot. Since Garreth was in the way, she aimed upward toward the ceiling and fired. With surgical precision, the bolt sliced through the lamp's cable, and the fixture came crashing down onto the golem's head, smashing it to pieces.

  Freed from its clutches, the man staggered away and fell to one knee, panting.

  "A-are you okay?" Lynn hurried down the steps and checked up on her partner.

  Whisking his sabre, Garreth rose to his feet and stumbled forward, the remaining golems behind him disintegrating into powder. "I-I owe you one, kid. But Holstein's getting away!"

  "Not for long!" She passed the man by in a sprint. "He can't have gone far, let's go!"

  "I'm right behind you!"

  Together, they hightailed it out of the warehouse, where a white motorcar swerved from around the corner and accelerated past them. As it made its escape, it slammed into the rear of the agents' automobile and drove off, leaving behind a bent bumper and broken taillight. "Ah, shit," the man cursed under his breath, darting over to their car to assess the damage. "That'll buff out... right?"

  "C-can it still run?"

  "Only one way to find out." Garreth jumped into the driver's seat. As he twisted the key, the engine sputtered and growled, refusing to start. Yet when all hope seemed lost, the vehicle miraculously roared to life, much to the agents' relief. "It'll hold for now! Get in, kid!"

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Lynn hardly had the door shut when the man threw it into gear and tore out of the harbour in hot pursuit of Holstein. And burning rubber out of the dockyard, they glimpsed the elderly guard, gawking at them as they zoomed by. From afar and through the mist, the half-elf briefly caught the white motorcar veering onto the thoroughfare and pointed at it. "T-there he is! He's taking the main road!"

  "Good eye, kid! Damned ride of his blends in with the fog; it's hard to even see the street!"

  Their automobile fishtailed as it made a sharp turn onto the boulevard, scarcely nicking a lamppost on the sidewalk. Their headlights struggled to penetrate the dense haze that rolled off the River Themris. Thus, Lynn's keen vision proved invaluable as she tracked the outline of the fleeing vehicle. As they were on an unpopulated wide road that stretched on for miles, the man decided it was the perfect opportunity to test out their car's capabilities.

  "Hold on tight, kid!"

  And he floored the pedal, spurring the vehicle to surge forward and closing the gap to mere yards. Astonished by the speed they were going, the half-elf shifted to the edge of her seat. "W-we're gaining on him!"

  "This car is state-of-the-art, kid. Even busted up, it's faster than anything on the market!"

  But just as they were catching up, the trunk of the white motorcar flung open. A cascade of small, round clay pots tumbled out from the boot, shattering on impact. From the shards that littered the road, terracotta spikes shot up from the ground. Adroitly, Garreth swerved to avoid them, weaving left and right through the treacherous clusters of jagged clay while Lynn braced herself against the dashboard.

  "Gah, fuck! This asshole doesn't let up easy, does he? Kid, don't mean to nag you, but do you think you have a decent shot at taking out his wheels? We'll be skewered at this rate!"

  Ears perked up, the half-elf rummaged through her sack yet failed to find a single quarrel. "S-sorry... I think I'm all out of ammo..."

  "Crap... guess all we can do is pray he runs out of fuel before we do..."

  As Lynn continued to ferret around the bag, however, she discerned something solid buried beneath the fabric. Her fingers grazed what felt like an opening, and digging her hand inside, she yanked out a familiar implement. "This is..."

  Glancing at his partner and then back at the road, the man pursed his lips and shook his head. "Damned dwarven woman wouldn't take no for an answer, eh?"

  It was a steel bolt—the explosive shot Eva showcased earlier. At some point, she'd hidden the quarrel in the half-elf's bag. Loading it into her crossbow, Lynn propped herself up out of the window, her muffler fluttering wildly in the gust. The white motorcar slewed to the right, approaching Wenton Bridge, the famed landmark that spanned the River Themris. Racing behind, Garreth tried to stabilise the vehicle as the half-elf trained her sights on the target ahead.

  "You better not miss," the man said, smoothening the car's path. Lynn exhaled deeply, tightening her posture and closing one eye. As the automobile rumbled onto the cobbled bridge, she emptied her mind; the sound of blustery wind and the juddering engine faded into the background. Halfway across, the half-elf unleashed the bolt. And the shot whistled as it missed its mark and instead collided with the road beside it.

  A powerful blast of fire and shrapnel shook the bridge—the resultant shockwave sent the white motorcar spinning out of control, tyres screeching against the cobblestone. Lynn pulled back and grimaced as fragments of debris pelted their car's hood, and her partner slammed the brakes. Their automobile skidded to a halt as the vehicle in front of them crashed into the parapet; smoke and steam hissed from the motorcar's crumpled hood.

  Kicking the door open, an injured Holstein broke into a limping jog toward the other end of the bridge. And the agents disembarked and gave chase on foot. With nowhere else to run, the orcish man, blood trickling from a cut on his temple, pressed his back against the low wall. Garreth and his partner cornered him, blocking all escape routes. "Hands up, Holstein! It's over for you; end of the line!" Levelling his blade at the orcish magus, the man closed in on him.

  Coat dishevelled and glasses askew, Holstein raised his hands and gave the agents a toothy grin. "Well, well, fancy seeing you here, you two. You caught on rather quick, I have to say."

  "Save your bullshit for Tartarus, blueblood." Garreth snapped back before turning to Lynn. "Restrain him, kid."

  "O-okay." Clumsily, the half-elf fiddled with the cuffs hanging off her belt.

  "So, what clued you in that I was involved? Was it a hunch? A lucky guess? Or did one of those guttersnipes spill the beans? Perhaps I should've ripped their tongues out like they do in Tartarus, hm?"

  "Isaac Holstein, Iskander Holt, whatever your name is," the man said, ignoring the orc's attempts to ruffle him, "you're not talking your way out of this. You've got a lot to answer for."

  "What happened in that factory was bound to happen anyway, with or without my involvement. All I did was stir the pot a little."

  "You call it stirring the pot; I call it domestic terrorism."

  When Lynn neared Holstein with irons in hand, he shifted his focus onto her and smirked. "Still though... you really have grown up, haven't you, Gwendolyn?"

  And the half-elf froze, her complexion pale. "How did you know my..?"

  "Oi, kid." Garreth noticed her stopping dead in her tracks. "What's the matter?"

  "Why, I'd never forget the name of an old friend's daughter," the orc said, tilting his head.

  On hearing this, the man was left stunned. "What did he... say?"

  And the agents barely had time to process the revelation before Big Denise, the sky-scraping clocktower nearby, tolled midnight. As distant bells rang out and echoed throughout Wenton, Holstein, with a self-satisfied smirk, tipped backwards and plummeted off the bridge. Unable to react in time, Garreth and Lynn rushed to the edge and peered over, their eyes scanning the mist-laden river below. They caught the tail end of an iron barge.

  Running to the other side, they espied the orc standing on the steam tugboat that drew the flat-bottomed vessel.

  And he waved at them hauntingly as he disappeared over the horizon.