Gunmage-Chapter 289: Three nobles and a well

In the narrow, open backyard of some random civilians, splashes of water drawn from a creaking well echoed through the night air.

One by one, the captured hooligans were awakened, rudely and without ceremony.

Sela had already taken on an authoritative position, perched atop a low ledge like a roosting hawk.

Her legs were crossed, and from above, she looked down on the trembling figures of those they had just captured.

To the newly-awakened, still groggy and drenched, the only thing visible was the imposing silhouette of the woman above.

The moonlight filtering from above cast sharp shadows across her form, shrouding her features in mystery.

Her face was completely obscured by the gloom, nothing more than an outline against pale silver light. Standing beside her was another figure—similarly feminine, similarly still.

The last of the trio was the one manning the well, muscles taut as he pulled on the dripping cord, water sloshing noisily into a wooden bucket.

The leader of the group of captives, barely roused and still recovering from the cold slap of water, felt a spike of dread churn in his gut.

Oh no, he thought.

We’re screwed. What the hell is going to happen to us?

He swallowed dryly, heart thumping in the silence that followed. And then he heard it: a commanding voice, smooth and unmistakably feminine.

"Name."

Nearby, Lugh shook his head slowly, faint amusement flickering across his pale features. Nobles of Ophris, it seemed, had a flare for theatrics.

Earlier that night, before the prisoners had been rudely stirred from their sleep, Sela had taken the time to teach him how to draw water from a well—an activity he had surprisingly taken to with zeal.

It was a new experience for him after all, and unlike Mirelle—who had dismissed the act as "plebeian activities unsuited for the likes of the truly beautiful" (yes, those were her exact words)—he found no offense in the task’s mundanity.

His body had been strengthened multiple times over by his mana. The only thing he might ever take issue with was the repetition.

Speaking of body strengthening—once he noticed it, truly noticed it—he began seeing it everywhere.

Comparing himself now to the boy who had first stepped onto the Devil Sea, it was obvious. Back then, lugging around that heavy machine gun had been a grueling task, every step a burden.

But if he had already been strengthened by mana at the time... then perhaps it wouldn’t have been so difficult.

The realization opened up new possibilities.

If mages truly had significantly stronger physiques than the average human—which would explain why the slender Sela could end a hulking brute in seconds—then they would also be capable of wielding larger, higher-caliber firearms without suffering from the brutal recoil.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"M-my name is Rufus. But everyone calls me the Iron Dog."

Mirelle tried to hold it in—truly, she did—but failed miserably. What followed was a symphony of stifled giggles and trembling shoulders.

Iron Dog!

What a glorious name.

Even Sela, usually so composed, was barely holding herself together. Her face was hidden in the shadows, but Lugh could tell.

From Rufus’s point of view, it was far more sinister. One of the strange women was shaking, making strange, choking sounds. The other remained still, cold as a statue.

Dear gods, he thought, panic rising in his chest. Have we run into a group of cultists?

His nerves got worse by the second, and the men beside him didn’t fare any better. One seemed to have already given up hope entirely.

Meanwhile, Lugh had finished filling the wooden bucket. He walked over to another unconscious figure—the beefy man who had been first to fall, knocked out cold by Sela earlier that evening—and doused him without ceremony.

The brute startled awake, his body spasming as cold water shocked him into consciousness. He was about to shout in pain, but one glance at his surroundings forced the sound back into his throat.

He swallowed his cry, his face going pale with fear.

It didn’t take long before Sela’s voice rang out again.

"Alright, Iron Do—"

A snort.

"—Rufus."

The leader immediately raised his head, hanging onto her every word.

"Who sent you?"

Her tone was even, measured.

"Nobody, ma’am."

"Okay then."

A pause.

"Why were you following us?"

He didn’t hesitate.

"We overheard you talking at that food stall earlier. You once tried to pay in gold."

He looked up, desperation painting his face.

"That means you’re stupid rich."

"And?"

"And we tailed you. We thought we’d catch you off guard. Kidnap you. Ask for a ransom from your parents. Then skip town."

Lugh inhaled slightly. Surely, one wouldn’t die if they weren’t actively courting death. If that plan of theirs had somehow worked... who would they have asked for ransom?

Selaphiel the elf? Or perhaps Isolde, who commanded the many assassins of House Caodreth?

He could almost feel pity for them. Almost.

"Hmmm."

Sela tapped her chin, adopting a contemplative expression.

"Do you know my parents?"

She asked.

"No, ma’am,"

Rufus replied.

"But we do know they’re rich."

Sela pressed further.

"What would you have done if I was a princess? Or the daughter of some great noble house?"

He sneered inwardly. A cultist trying to play blue-blood. Dreamers, it seemed, were everywhere. But he kept that thought to himself.

"That’s impossible, ma’am,"

He said instead, choosing his words carefully.

"Those types... they’re given everything they need from birth. You’d never find one of them in this part of town. Unlike us common folk... they live without care—"

Sela stomped her foot, and the man immediately fell silent, cursing his lack of restraint.

Lugh, for his part, simply observed—his gaze bouncing between both sisters. Cold and analytical.

Sela spoke again. Her voice was unreadable. Devoid of inflection. Emotionless. And that, in itself, made the shift obvious to Lugh.

If she had spoken that way from the start, he might not have noticed. But now it stood out.

"Have you killed anyone before?"

She asked.

The man froze. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

"I won’t ask again."

"...Yes. I have."

"I see."

Then she rose from her seat.

"That’s all I needed to hear."

She raised her arm.

Lugh stepped forward abruptly, blocking her.

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