Gunmage-Chapter 227: A familiar stranger

A lot of questions ran through Selaphiel’s mind when the strange woman arrived. But she said nothing—the newcomer had already begun to approach.

She spoke, not to the group at large, but directly to Zhou.

"Is this the Selaphiel you keep talking about?"

"...Yes, it’s her,"

Zhou replied, her voice calmer than before—eerily calm, considering the outburst just moments prior.

"Hmmm?"

The stranger hummed, glancing at Zhou with a half-teasing, half-disapproving look.

"I thought you said you were over it. What would’ve happened if you killed someone?"

"...That’s what I planned on doing,"

Zhou answered bluntly, her glare directed at the still-floating Selaphiel, who, sensing the immediate danger had passed, had already begun to descend slowly.

"I see you’re still fog-headed,"

The woman rebuked, voice sharp with disappointment.

"Have you forgotten that Lyra is here?"

"Lyra?!"

Zhou’s eyes widened, as if she’d only just snapped back to full awareness. In the heat of the moment, she hadn’t even registered the girl’s presence.

Her gaze darted across the room until it finally landed on the younger girl. Once she confirmed Lyra was unhurt, she let out a quiet breath of relief before turning back to the priestess, still confused.

"How did you... no, never mind,"

She started, but trailed off—some things, she realised, were better left unasked.

Then, Zhou gathered her thoughts.

"You just said ’lesser beings would cower in the face of the real thing.’ What exactly do you mean by that?"

Selaphiel, though expressionless, was also listening carefully. The statement had piqued her interest.

As for Zhou, the notion that the creature she’d tried to summon was being referred to as a "lesser being" made no sense at all.

The strange woman’s gaze swept over the group.

She took in all the unfamiliar faces. She hadn’t planned on explaining herself—she had no obligation to these people, after all. But then her gaze landed on Lugh.

"Well, well. What do we have here..."

The words were spoken softly, but everyone heard them.

She stepped toward him. Lugh didn’t move, but his posture tensed slightly.

She reached out and brushed his face with the back of her hand, pushing aside the long fringe that covered part of his face. Her brows furrowed, her tone laced with visible displeasure.

"Why are you covering your eye?"

Lugh smoothly leaned back, brushing her hand away with a motion that was calm, yet firm.

"It’s a simple trap,"

He said.

"A trap?"

She repeated, curious.

"Yes,"

He answered evenly.

"We’re trying to fish out some people... Not that it concerns you."

He added the last part after a moment’s thought. Selaphiel had given him a list of very concise—and oddly specific—rules to follow.

From that, Lugh had already pieced together a basic understanding of her intentions. Although she had warned him against using magic, the situation earlier had made it unavoidable.

He could only hope that no external parties had been watching.

Another one, Selaphiel thought to herself, barely managing to suppress a sigh. These odd connections... they were beginning to irritate her.

The thought bled into her words as she blurted out without thinking:

"Who are you?"

Her eyes narrowed on the mysterious woman—someone who, despite her plain appearance, gave even Selaphiel pause. There was something deeply wrong. The stranger’s frequency was... strange.

It resembled that of a human. But that was the issue: it only resembled one. Something about her felt far more potent—far more dangerous.

It was a detail only high-ranking mages could detect. Could that be why Zhou seemed calmer now?

The woman was not too tall, nor too short, with a slender, elegant build—her stature strikingly similar to Selaphiel’s own. She had long, smooth black hair and deep blue eyes that shimmered with a depth like the sea.

She didn’t appear to be older than eighteen—a highly suspicious detail to Selaphiel. Her outfit, a plain white silk nightdress, was another oddity. Considering the time of day, her appearance made no logical sense.

And yet—like Lyra—she shared a strange, unspoken connection with Lugh.

Ignoring Selaphiel, the woman kept her focus entirely on the boy. Her gaze deepened, becoming more intense, until it began to make Lugh visibly uncomfortable.

Eventually, she asked,

"Did you change?"

"...Change?"

Lugh echoed, confused by the question.

The woman merely smiled in response, almost knowingly.

"That’s good,"

She said at last.

"Your condition seems to have stabilised."

Selaphiel took it all in, absorbing every word like the desert drinks in rain. And with each passing moment, more puzzles formed in her mind, while old ones remained maddeningly unsolved.

A low groan reverberated through the chamber. Shuffling, strained curses, and pained gasps followed as the Von Heim family’s younger members slowly began to recover from the magical clash.

Their bodies ached, their heads throbbed, and their expressions were filled with confusion and quiet resentment.

"F*ck this,"

Edrin muttered under his breath, his voice thick with malice. It wasn’t aimed at anyone in particular—he wasn’t suicidal enough to hurl insults at elves. But the sentiment was clear.

Sylvera, his sister, shared the same expression.

What was supposed to be a simple outing had devolved into something absurd—something nightmarish.

Lugh’s cousins and stepsisters were in an even worse state. Though none of them had been struck directly, the aftershock from Selaphiel’s sound spell had left them mentally rattled.

Their balance was off, their thoughts sluggish. Standing upright was a struggle in itself.

Selaphiel, now on the ground, cast a brief, almost guilty glance in their direction. She hadn’t meant to cause that much collateral.

Zhou noticed the look—and her fury reignited.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. Everyone turned to Zhou, sensing the flare of her rising magic.

"Oh no, not again,"

Edrin muttered, his eyes scanning the room for an exit route.

The ornate windows—though somehow still intact—seemed like the only way out. And considering the way they’d held up against magic, they definitely weren’t made of ordinary glass.

Selaphiel turned to Zhou sharply, her voice clipped.

"Calm down, you lunatic. I brought a present for you."

"Hmph. I don’t need your paltry gifts."

"It’s your granddaughter."

Zhou froze, her breath catching in her throat.

For a moment, true shock crossed her features. But then she blinked, grounding herself. Her magic flared again as reason returned.

"To think you’d stoop so low, Selaphiel,"

She hissed.

"Using that name... My granddaughter died centuries ago. Her bones must’ve long turned to dust. Do you think this trick will unbalance me?"

She began to conjure another spell, face locked in grim determination. But Selaphiel shouted out, voice urgent.

"Wait, you fool! I’m serious!"

Still, no response.

So she raised her voice again.

"Jahira! Come on out here!"

The entire room fell silent.

Zhou’s magic stuttered, then flickered out like a snuffed flame. Her face went pale.

"J—Jahira...?!"

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