POV Simeon
From the very beginning, they could have simply opened a portal to El-Farrah and intercepted Whisper. Damn the traitor Kharezmi! Damn the Eastern heresy!
"The conflicts between the governor and the general Yagdrabek are also worth attention," continued Brother Arturius. "Yagdrabek is so popular among the soldiers and the common folk that if he ordered them to strip and dance naked all night, they would obey without question.
The governor doesn't like this, of course, but his power is purely formal. That's all that matters. But judging by your reaction, Brother, these are not the news you were expecting. If you tell me what brought you to El-Farrah..."
Simeon pushed his emotions aside. The task assigned to him by the Grand Master, or rather the one he had taken upon himself voluntarily, had nothing to do with the local squabbles.
"I will tell you, Arturius, I will," the monk spoke calmly. "Though not everything. Some secrets may be too dangerous to fully share."
"I understand," Arturius nodded. "What is allowed for the Junior Master to know is not allowed for a humble man of my rank."
"Exactly, my brother. Please, don't harbor any resentment in your heart for my secrecy. If I could share with you, I would certainly do so."
Arturius gave a slight nod, as if saying - it's fine, I understand.
"To put it briefly, we are looking for a girl," the Master continued. "Alexandra Corbett. This name won't mean anything to you, and it shouldn't. Her height is above average, slim, blue eyes, relatively fair skin.
She should be carrying one item... possibly a weapon. A sword, a spearhead, or the tip of a staff. Unfortunately, I do not know which. She was supposed to pass through El-Farrah, not alone, but with a warrior. As I was told, a very tall and strong one, also not from here."
"Quite a noticeable appearance," said Arturius, suddenly becoming cheerful. "Two foreigners won't go unnoticed. Let's start by looking up the registers and see who entered and left the city. If she's here, we'll find her and capture her."
"Don't even think about it!" Simeon waved his hand in protest. "Alexandra is very dangerous. She can handle at least five opponents on her own."
"Is that so?" Arturius said, suddenly rubbing his face with his hands and unexpectedly asking seriously, "What about fifteen?"
"Unlikely. But fifteen is too large a group if you're thinking of using that many for capture. We'll handle it ourselves."
Arturius said nothing. He turned to the table, grabbed a small piece of paper from the top, quickly glanced at it, and handed it to Simeon.
"This might be useful, my brother. A small thing, but..."
"In our work, there are no small things," the monk finished for him. Simeon carefully took the report and began reading.
"Dates, months..."
"Two days ago," the monk estimated.
"A patrol under the command of Nadimi, consisting of fifteen experienced warriors, sent west, did not return to El-Farrah in full. Mamono? West, which means toward Al-Gord. Sent to search... they found."
Simeon's eyes widened. Such coincidences are rare. Moreover, the timing of the incident perfectly matched the time it would take to cross the desert on foot, marching without horses. This is exactly how Alexandra had left Al-Gord.
Simeon read the rest of the report with increasing attention. And the more he read, the more his frown deepened. The patrol did not return—what a significant point when an ancient weapon capable of altering the course of millennia-old conflict is at stake!
Monsters scattered them, lost in a sandstorm. A lot could have happened. But the direction. But the time. Too many "buts," don't you think?
The patrol was found not far from the city, among the rocks, near the tied horses. All fifteen soldiers, with their weapons scattered around their bodies. The attack had not taken them by surprise: they had time to grab their yatagans and sabers. But the blades didn't help, and the warriors lay around, staring at the sky with blind eyes.
A key detail: the circle. They were surrounded. And the wounds... every soldier was killed with a single blow: cleaved lengthwise, crosswise, diagonally—varied, but very messy, with chunks of meat and broken bones. A normal sword, decently sharpened, but nothing more.
Enchanted weapons leave different marks. They slice cleanly, cutting through armor, muscles, and bones with ease. But here—bloody mush. This happens when the sharpness of the blade is compensated by monstrous inhuman strength. It's terrifying to even imagine what that might be...
And then—it gets worse. Several warriors died not from the sword. One had his ribs pierced through his back by a single strike. Another had his neck broken so violently that his head only stayed on by a thin thread of skin and muscle. The third was the worst off. Something slammed into his stomach with such force that his intestines were ejected...
Simeon pulled away from the paper.
"Are you sure your informants are correct?" he asked gloomily, looking at Arturius. "Can we trust this?"
"Yes. I'll go further, my brother: I didn't dare include some observations in the report because they were so unbelievable."
"You shouldn't have," Simeon muttered darkly and returned to reading. Descriptions, descriptions, descriptions. The twisted bodies of the unfortunate ones, who never understood what they were facing.
No, this isn't our technique. Alexandra isn't capable of this. The girl always preferred precise, relatively light strikes. Lunge, retreat, bend, then strike again. But here—one powerful swing, and the opponent literally falls apart. No, it still doesn't add up.
Such strikes can't be delivered quickly. So quickly that not one of the fifteen soldiers realized in time what was happening and fled. The bodies are too close. Not one tried to escape... Or did they not have time?
Simeon unfocused his vision, mentally reconstructing the battle.
The warriors meet... whom? Let's assume Alexandra and the unknown bruiser. They surround, demand something. They don't obey, draw weapons. A fight begins, Alexandra blocks the first swing, counters, the bruiser starts smashing their enemies, tearing them apart.
Wrong! Not a single patrolman died at the hands of a deserter. The wounds are like siblings from the same womb. So it must have been different. Then how? The Emir soldiers meet... surround... perhaps one warrior. Alexandra knows what's coming, stands aside, watching. Or did she step back? Doesn't matter.
The warrior unsheathes his blade and charges into the fight, dealing with confused enemies, who stay confused for a long time! Ten to twelve seconds, maybe more, because with normal speed, it's impossible to drop them faster. And the Emir soldiers are brave as lions!
Seeing their comrades die one by one, they don't even think of retreating. Desperate bravery, fanatical, insane. No, no, no! Impossible.
'Everything took no more than three or four seconds,' Simeon realized coldly and clearly. 'That's how long it takes to go from resolve to panic. The soldiers didn't cross that barrier, so they didn't retreat. Fifteen men. Not green rookies, not city guards who've fattened up on bribes and standing around at the gates. Fifteen experienced fighters—against one... Who?'
'Who are you, warrior? To which forces do you serve?' Simeon thought tensely.
'Not the Justitiars—you would have boarded a ship to Al-Gord. Not the Emirate, because why fight then? Not the Caliphate. Who in their right mind would travel to the Caliphate through El-Farrah when there's a reliable sea route? Hmm... From which dark abyss have you emerged, standing in our way? Or can you still be bought off? Gold. Land. Titles. For Whisper, the Order will give everything!
But if you can't, then it's worse for you. Whoever you are, we will deal with it. To defeat the Inquisition Knights, strength and speed are not enough! We have a mighty mage, we have me. We'll see which is stronger—your hand, or the divine shield of the Supreme.'
"Order my people to be stationed," Simeon said gloomily, crumpling the report under Arturius's puzzled gaze. "Get the false registers: we need to know if Alexandra and her companion have left El-Farrah. If she's here—bring everyone up, let them search the city and find her! And then... then we'll make our move."