So much for going to the Imperial Archives to submit reports and other documents, the investigator thought. Rinvar brought the weapons case, hoping that the Archives' armorer could inspect and evaluate his Schweiglands trophy to rechamber it for domestically made shells. Should that fail, he thought of sending it to House Melvich and having his father's professionals work on it for him.

  Unfortunately, no armorer visits would be made at the time. Rinvar took himself to an empty lounge. It was an audible silence that blocked their ears to everything going on once the door was closed. Farin followed; her hands were empty of the documents she had collected all the way from Altrecht. Whatever was talked about at the amphitheater did not satiate the curious minds of some of the attendees, though the game of competing interests and profit was something that lacked a natural end.

  "How's Director Arinas' first experience with being in a noble 'symposium'? I'd bet you had a lot of fun listening to what many of them said back then." Rinvar sat down and took a copy of yesterday's paper with him.

  "For them to talk business so casually. I imagined they were more refined in touching those subjects."

  "It was fun while it lasted, until it got too much with bringing up family pride and relentless mudslinging." Rinvar was quick to flip pages until he found the paper's comics section. "Look at me. I had to bail out and choose this life."

  "They were quite respectful with me, probably because of the 'director' title." Farin sat down opposite the captain. She stretched her arms and legs before sitting straight.

  "Anyway, you think Faubourg gets the construct deal, or maybe Ravenna?" Rinvar's toothy smile receded when he put down the paper. "Or perhaps the Director saw another family waiting in the shadows...?"

  "Faubourg has the edge in heavy machinery, but I'd place a good guess on Ravenna." Farin answered, "I remember them proposing some kind of battle armor for our troops."

  "I kind of forgot that. That's a catch. I was thinking Schild put... wait, hold that."

  Their room and every other hall in the archives disrupted their thoughts with loud ringing, wailing alarms.

  "Attention all personnel! We have a breach at the Chamber of Artifacts." A wall-mounted speaker spoke with a static and hollow tone. "All combatants respond to the threat and pay attention to two suspects in military uniforms."

  "What? Who would even steal from that place?" Farin's voice sharpened. She wore her cap and checked her sword.

  "I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

  The captain took out the black gun from the metal case. He was about to load ammunition when Farin looked at him with a shaking head and a silly grin.

  "You heard the alarm," she said. "The ones who breached this place are wearing our colors. And here you are, charging with a foreign gun, even worse is a Federation weapon."

  The captain stopped midway when he was about to insert the first cartridge into the Federation-made armament. He put the gun back in its container before saying:

  "I didn't see it that way, but good point."

  "Of course. Your wife and I would be sad, and myself more disappointed, if you end up shot by one of the Archives' soldiers. And that's all because they thought you were the enemy."

  Rinvar drew a long weapon from the same carrying case. It was a strange cross of a revolver and a long firearm, though he loaded rimmed shotshells into its six cylinders. A spike bayonet was attached to the barrel, giving it nearly the length of a standard soldier's armament. Farin stopped to check her pistol and sword; she dashed behind Rinvar as they went out of the room.

  "Knowing the Archives, they'll try to escape using either the rooftop or the basement sewer entrance." Farin gestured for some of the soldiers inside to come with her. "Captain, go up while I try to reach the intersecting room to the basement. I hope I can get there in time."

  "Be careful with whoever they are, Director. Someone with the gall to attack this place surely takes this business seriously."

  The officers went separately with a handful of soldiers in tow. Rinvar rushed to the Chamber of Artifacts with the help of the resident guardsmen. It was a difficult two minutes running at full speed; he felt that it would have taken him longer if he were left to figure out the maze of rooms and hallways on his own. Thankfully, the men stationed at the Archives knew the lay of the place enough that the run was uninterrupted.

  What he saw were three soldiers scattered on the floor; two of them were thrown considerably far from their weapons. He checked on the bodies – all of them were breathing rapidly but were unresponsive to his touches or weak slapping. Up ahead was the steel door to the interior cut into quarters; whoever did that must have been very proficient, or even lethal with whatever blade that person held.

  The interior was largely intact; none of the books fell to the floor. The thieves had the courtesy of arranging everything neatly before leaving. The central shelf was the only part of the chamber touched by the raiders – all the other places were left alone. Rinvar's only clue was the ladder that was not returned to the edge of the aisle, like how the rest was arranged. Everything was in order, so why bother breaking through?

  "Just to be sure... You and you," the captain addressed to two soldiers at the rearmost part of the formation, "stay here and stop anyone else from trying to get in. The rest will come with me."

  Rinvar's group scrambled out of the room and resumed tracking down the raiders. They bumped into another squad that was about to go into the Chamber of Artifacts.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "I've secured the chamber. Nobody's there." Rinvar told a panting sergeant. "Have you met up with anyone who came out of there?"

  "We talked to another sergeant and a lieutenant not long ago." The soldiers' leader replied. "They said something about reporting the incident to the commander. I think they're new here, Captain. I've not seen either of them stationed in this place."

  "Rats!" Rinvar's face was distorted with annoyance and anger. "Do you recall where they headed?"

  "I think they're on their way to the First Floor, where the Chief Archivist's office is."

  "No, they're most likely not heading there. Farin." Rinvar's voice lowered to a whisper upon uttering the last word. "I want you to go back to the rooftop and put any unfamiliar pair of soldiers under arrest. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Captain."

  The groups broke up; sounds of running boots drowned in the ringing wails of the alarms. Rinvar was ahead of his men when they reached the stairs to the first floor. What he saw inside almost made him drop his weapon.

  Rinvar's force entered the intersection to see a dozen bodies lying on the ground. What caught his attention among the fallen was a woman whose back was against the wall. His subordinates moved in and checked on the conditions of the unconscious brothers-in-arms; all of them were alive, but their heavy, indented breathing meant that they had taken quite a beating from those they were trying to stop. The captain approached the woman who sprawled on the floor; her saber beside her, and opposite it was a handkerchief that the director reached out for. He smelled something acrid near her; the remnants of whatever chemical was used on the director had largely dissipated when he reached the room's interior.

  Farin was a competent swordswoman in her own right, and her knocked-out state meant that those whom her squad encountered faced something far more dangerous than normal humans. Rinvar checked on her pulse; slow, but she seemed to be in no dire state. A soft moan escaped her lips before her eyes opened to the sight of the captain.

  "Uh... Rinvar." She groaned shortly before attempting to move. "I've been bested... again."

  "Who did this to you?" Rinvar set her gently on the floor as the woman's breathing turned into a weak cough.

  "Mm... magician. One of two is a magician. The other... a sword-" Farin forced herself off the floor. Rinvar helped her stand up and let her lean on the nearest corner.

  "Magician...?"

  The Altrecht Incident reminded him of a probable encounter with one – the miniature ball lightning that almost took him by surprise. It can't be. Why was that man here? What was he and his colleagues after in this place?

  "I thought I was done for." Farin coughed again. "I guess killing wasn't part of their mission–whatever that was."

  "Listen up, men!" Rinvar picked up his shotgun from the ground. "We have two people who can mop up anyone who gets in their way, watch your backs, and do not engage them without getting behind cover."

  "We'll have to split again. Eight of you will come with me to the sewer entrance." The captain held the shotgun by the stock and probed the muzzle downward. "The rest will stay and watch over the Director until the medics get here. Move!"

  The squad broke into two groups. The first group took the hallway out of the intersection, as the other part of the force stayed behind and guarded the points.

  Rinvar and the remaining eight men arrived at the basement entrance, where three soldiers and a maintenance crewman were scattered all over the place. He saw a small bluish vein appear and disappear on one of the bodies. He jumped off the sewer stairwell just in time to see part of a shadow make a left turn. All eight soldiers were behind him, propping flashlights on their rifles as the squad proceeded to the lower tunnels. The sounds of rubber striking a damp surface echoing throughout the place were more than enough for the soldiers to follow.

  A heavy feeling took Rinvar by the lungs when his group was about to make the third right turn on the foul-smelling labyrinth.

  Everything was too sudden: an arc of bluish energy spanned the space and headed for the surprised group. Rinvar dropped his weight and rolled out just before the line of light slammed on the other eight men. A loud but short boom filled the place, followed by screams of men that were cut short when their bodies were flung to the other side of the sewer wall.

  "Damn! One... Two... Three!"

  He took a deep breath and turned to the source of the spell that was retreating from the scene. Rinvar aimed and unleashed a cloud of pellets at the caster. His burst connected to the left arm and waist of the offender, lodging scores of stinging shots at the man. The impact elicited a painful cry from the man and almost threw the figure into the water, but someone caught him and helped him flee the area. Rinvar ejected the other shot cartridge and inserted a slug into the receiver on his pursuit of the now-disabled magician and his companion.

  The run to the northeastern mouth of the sewer system was short; Rinvar could see moonlight coming from outside, highlighting the sewer tiles and their greenish-gray tones. His shotgun was poised to aim when a silvery line was thrust his way. Rinvar's weapon served as a spear when he swung the bayonet upward to deflect the blow.

  Everything was concealed in silhouette, except for the attacker's reddish hair whose outlines glistened in the moonlight. The sword strikes were fast and graceful, yet the sword wielder's strength could not be taken for granted. Bayonet and stock took places in repelling the saber, whose vigor was unaffected with every new attack its owner threw out.

  Rinvar got his opening when his bayonet caught the saber blade. He diverted the sword to the floor and made a rushed squeeze of the trigger. The slug took off; its blunt surface shattering the saber upon impact. The swordsman recoiled from the lock and tumbled to a good distance; the remainder of the sword flew out of the wielder's hands and towards Rinvar's face.

  A rush of adrenaline allowed Rinvar to bat the broken saber away – the attacker's next moves were something he did not anticipate.

  He was overwhelmed, unable to poise his shotgun when the figure drew close – too close to him. A pair of fists squeezed the air out of his abdomen, followed by something leathery connecting to his cheek and sandwiching his face to the sewer wall. Rinvar's eyes saw a blurred vision of the attacker putting his left leg to the ground, watching the captain slide and crumple to the floor.

  Whoever that person was went right away to the one Rinvar shot; the captain could see the small holes that wrecked his shirt sleeve. At the end of the tunnel were two floating disks – the same ones that arrived during the Altrecht incident.

  Those behind that attack and this raid on the Imperial Archives were from the same group.

  All he could hear was the sound of rushing sewage falling to the stream outside; his nose could barely smell the stale stench around him. Rinvar's last drops of consciousness allowed him to watch the bright pillars highlight the pair and slowly consume them to nonexistence.

  His sight gave up on him, and the rest of his body followed suit; his memory managed to capture those moments before Rinvar's mind had to put everything in the dark. Even with the military uniform and the hat's visor blocking much of their eyes, Rinvar clearly saw that the one he fought with and had beaten him to the ground was a woman.