In order to meet with Warehouse Chief Gesto, she had to waste four days, but not because Gesto made her wait. From the moment angels first descended into the Tower of Insolence, watchful eyes followed Aria from an imperceptible distance. Among them, those who made her especially nervous were the two pursuers who had followed her since Elmore. Aria hid herself in a shabby room at an inn and did not leave until she was certain they had given up searching for her.

Pavel's legendary Knights of Moon Tears, unlike the knights of Aden that consist mainly of Paladins or Knights, consisted of various backgrounds and skills. This must have something to do with the fact that this manor has had a good relationship with the mercenaries of the Ruhn. Two of the major supporting forces of the Ruhn mercenaries are the Cursed Forest and the underground city of Dark Elves. Aria could only guess at the circumstances of the time. The important question was, to what extent did the Underground City show its true intentions to Pavel or Ruhn? Aria could not predict anything regarding this one way or another.

Fifteen minutes after entering the warehouse, Aria came out through the back door and returned to the hazy night air of Giran. During the twenty minutes of her walk to get back to her lodging, she was almost sure that she had evaded all of her pursuers.

When she returned to the inn, she did not see the old Dwarf, who usually dozed at the counter. Holding a small, lit candle in one hand, she climbed the squeaky stairs and walked down the hallway. When the candlelight flickered, her own shadow seemed to waver above her as though it were trying to speak to her. The bluish light of the night poured in through the last window at the end of the hall, providing illumination ahead of her. Finally, she arrived at her room.

She passed by the door of her room without stopping and reached for the doorknob to the next room, which was empty. A sharp sound was heard and a small hole appeared in the window facing the street, causing her to let go of the doorknob. Suddenly, an arrow with a black flag attached stuck in the doorframe. All of this occurred in the blink of an eye.

"Crow Feather?"

Muscles flexed and tensed. Blood pumped into her ears and eyes, creating a throbbing sensation. From her fingertips to her arms and shoulders, an electrical current traveled up and down her nervous system.

In order to avoid being hit, she braced her body against the wall, jumped down and reached the landing of the stairs in one breath. Using her dagger, she cut the candle to extinguish it and lowered her body under the candleholder. The hallway embraced her in an abyss of darkness. An arrow came through the window and destroyed what was left of the candlestick. The next arrow flew above Aria's head as she crouched like a frog against the wall. Breathing a sigh of relief, she rolled onto her side. She could sense that the last arrow was targeted where she was just a moment ago.

Aria stopped moving and remained silent, holding her breath. The bedroom door burst open and a knight of Pavel flashed out like lightning, brandishing two swords. Aria aimed for the knight's back and plunged her dagger into it. The knight used both of his swords to cover both his front and back, so he could defend himself against whatever might be lurking in the dark corridor. Although somewhat clumsy, this blocked Aria's dagger from causing a fatal wound.

Through the window of the bedroom where a curtain was closed, a very faint light leaked into the room. As soon as she stepped into this poorly illuminated area, another arrow shot towards her. In spite of the risk that he might hit his own people, the archer shot his arrow where he guessed she was going to move, which was surprisingly accurate.

While running into the bedroom, Aria was hit in the leg and thrown into the wall under a window. The knight who chased after her into the bedroom immediately brought down his sword while she struggled to regain her balance. She deflected the knight's attack with her own dagger and with a loud outcry quickly slashed across her enemy's throat. A disgusting sound spilled out of him, but her tactic was met by another sword.

Aria was able to see her opponent's face for the first time. The young Dark Elf seemed less than 200 years old. He appeared to be strong and surprisingly calm. The young knight slowly glided the blade of his sword across her dagger. The center of balance shifted and the tips of the two swords trembled dangerously against each other.

"Give me the Book of the Saint."

When the sword blade danced across her eyes, Aria grimaced. "Don't ask me! Go to a bookstore!"

With her dagger, Aria drew a big circle and let go of it from her hand. The sword blade of the young knight touched her wrist, creating a long, deep wound, spilling forth much blood. Aria buried herself into the chest of the young knight and embraced him tightly with both of her arms.

With an eerie cry, she threw herself against the window. The window shattered and the entangled combatants rolled down on the eaves and fell down a level. With both of them still in mid-air, Aria gained control of her body and climbed on top of the knight. Just before they hit the ground, she put all of her weight on her knees and crushed them against her opponent's shoulders. Gripped with pain, the young Dark Elf clenched his teeth, with his eyes opened wide. From her wounded wrist, another burst of blood gushed out.

"The Abyss Walker of the greatest power is…"

While pressing down the knight's shoulders with both of her knees, strangling his neck with her left hand, she pulled another dagger from inside her boot. The bright red blood spilling out of her left arm covered the knight's face in red. Without hesitation, she brought the dagger to the knight's neck.

"…the one who walked in Hell for 500 years."

At that moment, as if she were falling on top of the young knight's head, she rolled her body. A burning excruciating pain traveled down her spine and filled her entire body. From this new wound, something lukewarm spilled out and soaked her armor and undergarments, which gave her an eerily vivid sensation.

The arrow of Crow Feather was surprisingly quiet. Aria was only able to detect its faint wind-like sound when it was very close to her. Once she was outside, it was hopeless for her to look for a safe place to protect her from an arrow. She stood up and ran for her life. Although she could not see or hear it, she knew that an arrow was flying directly towards her. After kicking a wall and hanging down from a tree branch like a cat, in one swoop, she sent her body over the wall. The last arrow struck her in the back.

-----------------------------------

"Sir Scryde!"

The Bladedancer from the cold northern manor stared blankly at the mercenary guide he had hired -- Esenn, a Phantom Ranger, known by the nickname Crow Feather among the Orcs and mercenaries of Ruhn.

Scryde's body betrayed the will of its owner. Both shoulders screamed with a grinding sensation of bone against bone. He felt nauseous, as though his intestines were being twisted. His lungs breathed discordantly, as if playing an Orcish marching song. Overwhelmed with all of these sensations, his head throbbed as though about to explode.

"Oh, my!" When the Phantom Ranger saw the back of his employer's neck, he dropped the object he was carrying, ran to his employer and sat down next to him. Scryde could only manage to raise his right hand.

"It's all right. The blood is not mine."

Scryde thought that in order to forget the pain, he would rather pass out or try to focus on something else. But the former would only make him look weak. So, instead he posed a question to the Phantom Ranger.

"Did you get her?"

Esenn shook his head in shame and pointed to the item he brought. It was blood-soaked leather armor, torn to pieces from the recent struggle. He slowly explained how FirstMatter, with an arrow stuck in her body, still eluded him and ran away.

"A ranger, unable to catch an injured woman… I'm so ashamed of myself."

Scryde wanted to shake his head sideways but when he heard an awful noise come from his shoulders, he decided against it.

"Without you, my head would be rolling around at your feet by now."

Sitting beside Scryde, the Phantom Ranger quietly began to sort the arrows he had gathered. Since his arrows were custom-made, he treated them like rare treasures. He divided about thirty arrows into groups that were either still usable, needed repair, or to be discarded. The Phantom Ranger put them back into his quiver and spoke again.

"Then shall I continue the hunt?"