Given the build and strength the Gods had endowed the members of the N'zonki clan with, the colossus had no need to take a running start—for him, it was like opening an already half-open door. So he positioned himself in front, placed his immense hand on the wood and simply pushed. Not only did the door give way under the pressure, but the entire frame flew to pieces in a cloud of dust, the crash resounding in the warehouse.

  The door was no more, and in its place was an immense hole letting in the light of the Zenith. Taking advantage of this moment of chaos, R?chard acted from the roof, his drawn bow vibrating with a strident note. Three arrows shot out, swift and sharp, crossing the torrid air like whispers of a forgotten breeze before Nihibell's exile.

  The first projectile pierced the throat of a man near the central table, making him stagger backward before he collapsed heavily to the ground, his eyes fixed toward the pierced beams where danced the shadow of his assassin. The second arrow struck the chest of another assailant who stood not far from the entrance, producing a muffled shock that resonated in the heavy atmosphere. His patched breastplate and helmet hit the ground violently in a metallic tinkling. The third aimed at a fellow armed with a hatchet, his muscles gleaming under the divine rays. The projectile pierced his forehead with a sinister crack, stopping his momentum dead. He collapsed like a felled oak, his tool clacking to the ground in an echo that raised an ochre cloud.

  Crouching on the roof, the young archer notched a new projectile, his agile fingers sliding on the bow with calculated coldness.

  "And three," he breathed.

  Plunging in turn into the battle, his long sword drawn glittering under the glare of Solar?s, the paladin pierced with a fluid gesture an adversary on his left, near the broken access, driving the metal into his thorax. The rebel collapsed, twisted in suffering, a muffled cry vanishing in his throat. As he withdrew the blade from his enemy's body, another surged on his right, a hatchet brandished toward his skull. But the N'zonki interposed himself, his right arm raised like a shield, the massive chains glittering under the clarity. The weapon crashed against the metal in a sonorous crash. The ebony titan remained unshakeable.

  "Your turn, my brother," he called without even looking at him.

  Siegfried pivoted with striking speed, the dust particles at his feet swirling in a fleeting halo, creating an ephemeral aureole born from the ground calcined by the eternal star. His blade sliced the air in a horizontal arc, removing the head from the bust of the enemy in a scarlet jet. The body collapsed in slow motion, the face rolling to the feet of one of his companions. Seeing the empty gaze of his friend, a savage howl tore through the atmosphere and resonated in the warehouse like a cry of distress. A colossus, far less imposing than Juuh'ma but massive enough to merit this title, charged with fury and rage, a large two-handed sword raised above him. The Stoneskin positioned himself in front of his chief. He simply crossed his arms. The shock resounded like lightning, but there too he didn't move an inch, his feet anchored in the earth. This blow should have split a man in two along his entire length, but for the Shield of the squadron, this attack was just derisory.

  "Another one," he growled.

  Knight Vaan Hart circled the assailant with such celerity that the dust couldn't follow his movements. A diagonal slash behind the legs cleanly severed the giant's Achilles tendons. Immediately, his knees struck the ground violently and Siegfried stepped

  back. He breathed deeply while raising his sword toward the heavens, exactly like his assailant.

  "RAAAAAAAAH!" he shouted, releasing the tension he had accumulated in his muscles to bring down his weapon in a ferocious vertical slash that separated the body in two without any difficulty.

  Faced with this macabre spectacle and understanding she would never be a match, the woman with the melodious voice attempted to escape through a lateral access, her hurried strides clacking on the beaten earth. But her efforts were in vain because from his height, the young archer had already notched a new arrow. In an instant, he drew his bow so hard the weapon seemed to crack under the tension. He closed his left eye and followed his target with his steel point. When he released the string, the shaft cut through the air to pierce the fugitive's back between the shoulder blades. The arrow reached the heart. Without a cry, she collapsed in the middle of the warehouse.

  "And four," announced R?chard, jumping from the roof with agility to land on one of the weapon crates, his soles striking the wood with a sharp noise.

  On her side, Mei had taken advantage of the Stoneskin's shattering entrance to slip through the skylight. She emerged from the darkness, her twin blades in her hands and leaped toward the table where the stutterer, Hans and another man still stood. During her jump, she planted her daggers simultaneously in the necks of two adversaries who were preparing to shoot bolts toward Siegfried and Juuh'ma, before landing crouched on the table, pinning their heads on the wood during her reception. The third spotted her far too late: in a fluid movement, she withdrew the dagger from Hans's skull while pivoting on her knees to drive it under the survivor's chin. The blade came out between his eyes in a precise gesture, his corpse collapsing on the table in turn.

  The two last heretics rushed toward the main exit, their eyes widened by terror. Two projectiles from R?chard nailed them against the leaf with crash, a red trickle sliding along the wood.

  "Five and six. And as always, I'm the one who kills the most. I'm going to end up believing this nickname suits me perfectly, the little prodigy, isn't that right Mei?!" he declared while putting away his bow in a bandolier to slowly head toward the woman who lay not far away to recover his arrow.

  At the boy's words, the others exchanged a complicit look, a slight smile running across their faces.

  "Yes, yes, that's it my little prodigy. You'll have the right to a reward. To congratulate you, I'll buy you a beer during our rest," she replied with irony. "Ah but no, that's not possible. And you know very well why... Because children don't have the right to drink alcohol."

  While the two brothers' laughter could be heard, the boy who had his foot on the woman's back turned his head to cast an annoyed look at his friend. He didn't like being called that—Mei knew it perfectly.

  After this brief joke, a heavy calm settled, troubled only by the creaking of beams and the breath of hot wind that rushed through the breach caused by Juuh'ma. Siegfried sheathed his sword, the particles falling around him.

  "Sieg, you should come see."

  Mei's voice made him turn around. The Noohrikane had crouched near one of the satchels torn open during the assault and was extracting a handful of blackish powder that she let flow between her fingers.

  "Look at this. They talked about a powder capable of breaking metal. An alchemy from the Eclipse."

  She indicated the other satchels with her chin.

  "Enough to attack the West ramparts of the Orchard."

  The paladin frowned and approached, observing the substance with mistrust. He had never seen such a thing during their previous interventions.

  "Break metal?" exclaimed R?chard, skeptical, approaching in turn. "These vermin would say anything to give themselves courage."

  He leaned toward the torn crates and seized one of the abandoned swords, weighing it with attention. His expression changed instantly.

  "Wait... This steel."

  Running his thumb over the blade, he examined the guard with an expert eye.

  "It doesn't come from Solheim. The craftsmanship is different, I don't recognize the work of Forgecinder. It's too light, too... refined."

  "Military equipment that wouldn't come from our lands?" asked the Stoneskin before the boy threw him the sword with a swift gesture.

  The colossus caught it with one hand, weighed it a moment, his massive fingers testing the balance of the blade.

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  "Not from Istalith. Or from a forge unknown to us."

  R?chard nodded, satisfied with the confirmation, then grabbed one of the satchels and deliberately poured some powder on another blade. All held their breath for a moment. The powder slid on the metal without producing the slightest effect, falling to the ground forming a small inert pile.

  "You see?" he said, raising his eyes. "Nothing. How could inert powder break anything? They're bragging, as usual."

  "Yet they insisted on it," replied Mei, forehead furrowed. "They talked about an alchemy. There must be an activation method we're unaware of. A flame, perhaps? Or a mixture?"

  Siegfried advanced toward the chests, his ashwolf skin following his movement. He observed the scattered weapons, then the satchels of powder, his gaze passing from one to the other as if assembling the pieces of a puzzle.

  "Weapons that don't come from any of our forges. An unknown alchemical substance," he thought, jaws clenched. "The Eclipse extends beyond our walls then..."

  R?chard set down the sword, his initial skepticism replaced by growing concern.

  "If they have contacts outside Solheim..." the archer began in a hesitant voice.

  "Then we're no longer facing a simple rebellion from the Outer Quarters," the knight finished in a dark tone. "Let's not waste more time."

  He swept his gaze over the scattered bodies, the vestiges of the struggle suddenly taking on a far more worrying dimension.

  "R?chard, Mei. Gather all the weapons in a single crate and add the powder satchels."

  He turned to the colossus.

  "Juuh'ma, you'll carry the crate to the garrison. If there are too many for one, take two. But first, you and I, let's pile the corpses for the purification squadron. They'll come burn them to offer them to Solar?s."

  The giant nodded and walked away with a heavy step, making the ground tremble under his weight.

  "Then, let's destroy the maps and everything concerning their plans for the Orchard, but the weapons and satchels must be given to the lieutenant."

  The warriors all nodded to signal their approval and they executed.

  Once done, the Stoneskin carried the heavy crate on his shoulder and they headed toward the warehouse entrance in silence, their short shadows stretching under the glare of Solar?s, indifferent to the living as to the dead.

  The moment the paladin set foot outside the building, a whistle cut through the air. An arrow shot in his direction.

  In an almost superhuman reflex, Siegfried pivoted his body and head, feeling the breath of the projectile graze his temple. The arrow continued its course and ricocheted on the N'zonki's torso who stood just behind, like a twig against rock.

  The colossus immediately dropped the crate with a dull crash and pulled his brother backward with a brusque gesture to take the place that was his in combat situations, that of the Shield.

  They all lined up behind him without a single order from their chief, each in their place, in tactical cohesion that testified to their perfect training: Siegfried behind his brother, followed by Mei and the young archer.

  In the street, twenty silhouettes emerged from adjacent alleys, drawing their bows and crossbows. Juuh'ma unrolled one of his chains in an instant. He made it spin before him, so rapidly that a dull, regular noise invaded the place, raising a cloud of ochre dust that rose like a curtain.

  "FIRE!" shouted a man before a rain of arrows fell upon them.

  The projectiles shattered against the rotating wall of metal, some breaking cleanly, others deflected in erratic trajectories. Thanks to the colossus's defense, none reached their target. Steel points littered the ground in a continuous clinking.

  As soon as the first volley was repelled, Siegfried tapped twice on his brother's back—signal to retreat. As one man, the squadron retreated, continually protected by the shield the N'zonki created, their boots raising dust in a perfectly synchronized movement. They retreated until reaching the middle of the warehouse.

  There, the knight made a second hand sign, successively indicating the two sides of the room. Taking advantage of the smoke screen, R?chard and the Noohrikane each darted to a side to blend into the shadows, their silhouettes swallowed by the dark corners.

  A second swarm was swept away as easily as the first, arrows spinning in the air before falling back, useless.

  The enemy chief, understanding the inefficiency of their attacks, spat on the ground and raised his sword.

  "CHARGE!"

  Fifteen soldiers entered the warehouse, better armed than the previous ones. They began to encircle the two brothers with a semblance of military rigor, forming a semi-circle that methodically tightened.

  From the shadow in which she was hidden, Mei recognized the speaker she had glimpsed earlier—the frail man with hollow cheeks. Rahn.

  The Vaan Hart positioned himself back to back with the colossus, who slowed the rotation of his chain until letting it drag on the ground. He did the same with the other, the links snaking on the dusty ground like two immense reptiles, ready to catch their prey. The dust cloud gradually disappeared, revealing the silhouettes of the two brothers at the center.

  Rahn stepped forward, his gaze filled with hatred at the sight of the piled corpses of his accomplices, bit his lips with rage until they bled, a scarlet trickle flowing on his chin.

  "You'll never get out of here alive!" he shouted before pointing his curved blade toward the two knights. "And even if that were the case, know that neither your lances nor your swords will be able to stop what is in motion. The Order and its nobles will soon taste—"

  The whistle of an arrow cut through the air. The steel point pierced Rahn's right eye with a wet crack. The man opened his mouth, but only a gurgle escaped. His body remained standing a brief instant, before collapsing heavily, face forward.

  Before anyone could react, a second arrow went to plant itself in a skull not far away with a dull noise, as well as two throwing daggers in the throats of two other insurgents who choked in their own blood. In as much time as it took to snap fingers, four enemies lay in their blood, their limbs still twitching.

  While Rahn was distracted talking, the paladin had made a discreet sign to his warriors lurking in the shadow.

  What did they care about the speech of a man like him? They were from the Solar Guard, protectors of the Outer Quarters and the capital. Their duty was to eradicate heretics or anyone who wanted to harm the Order—and that's exactly what they were doing.

  The very instant the projectiles reached their targets, Juuh'ma raised his immense arms and made his chains crack which went to catch the ankles of two assailants located before him. He pulled so hard on the links that the two men passed above him in an arc, their cries of terror cut short when they went to crash before Siegfried who had already rushed at two other enemies from the back. Without slowing his course, he finished them off as they struggled to get up, his blade tracing two precise arcs that slashed the first's throat and pierced the second's heart. He found himself immediately before his next adversaries.

  The first raised his sword in a hesitant guard. He parried the blow with a backhand, pivoted on himself and plunged his blade under the man's ribs. Before the body even touched the ground, he had already withdrawn his sword and run through the next one at the throat. Two attacks. Two deaths.

  Out of fifteen enemies, only seven were still standing while combat had just begun. The smell of fresh blood saturated the air, mixed with that of sweat and pierced entrails.

  However, they didn't flee before this massacre, quite the contrary. Despite their obvious weakness, they were endowed with unwavering determination—they fought for a cause they believed just.

  Four decided to attack the Stoneskin who had his flanks exposed. Their first running steps were also their last. Arrows and throwing daggers sprang from the shadows with surgical precision, lodging in their flesh—eye, throat, heart, temple. They collapsed one after another like puppets with cut strings.

  The last three threw themselves body and soul at the Vaan Hart, in vain. He wasn't the bloody type but rather quite the opposite: cold-blooded and observant. With a single glance, he perceived the weaknesses of his adversaries who rushed toward him without tactics, with only rage as ally.

  The first attacked high. Deflecting the blade with a wrist movement, he slashed the man's belly with a horizontal backhand. The second attempted a feint to the right. The knight didn't flinch, waited for the real blow, parried and ran the insurgent through the chest. The third hesitated—it was sufficient. The long sword pierced his throat before he could raise his weapon.

  Two parries and three thrusts. Combat was over.

  Silence fell back on the warehouse, troubled only by the last gasps of the dying and the noise of the Stoneskin's chains scraping the ground.

  Without even exchanging a look, they set to work. The knights gripped the bodies by the ankles, by the arms, dragging them on the ground in a dull friction noise, leaving behind them long scarlet trails. Fresh blood stuck to their gloves, but their faces remained impassive, empty of emotion.

  The last bodies piled, Siegfried distractedly wiped his blade on a corpse's tunic, then signaled his squadron. The colossus recovered the crate he had dropped, loaded it again on his shoulder as if nothing had happened and they left the warehouse.

  Outside, Solar?s continued to shine with its implacable glare, indifferent to the living as to the dead. Their shadows, meager, stretched on the dusty ground.

  Behind them, twenty-seven bodies lay in the building's shadow. Twenty-seven fewer reasons to defy Solar?s and his Order.

  The miscreants' cause might be noble and just, but the Council had decided otherwise.

  And when the Council spoke, the knights executed.