Ch 9.4

Aisha sat at the desk with a quill in hand, carefully tallying columns in the ledger. She worked with quiet focus, shoulders relaxed, ears flicking faintly as she calculated expenses and income. Truth be told, she preferred this to her usual duties. Numbers were honest. They balanced, or they didn’t. Lady Onteko rarely allowed her the luxury of handling accounts, so Aisha savored every moment she was permitted to do work that relied on her mind rather than her body.

Despite her profession, Aisha was well-educated and trained in etiquette, commerce, and politics long before she ever learned how to please a client.

Her quill scratched softly across parchment—

Then the Pavilion lurched.

The desk shuddered, ink splashing across the page as the column skewed violently. Aisha steadied the ledger with one hand, lifting the quill just in time to avoid tearing the paper.

…An earthquake?

The tremor lasted only a few seconds before settling into uneasy stillness. Silence followed—then screams.

Aisha’s ears snapped upright.

She rose at once, setting the quill aside, and moved for the door. The moment she opened it, panic flooded in—shouts, hurried footsteps, frightened voices echoing up from below. Though the quarters were soundproofed, Aisha’s sharp hearing caught every note of fear beneath the chaos.

She hurried down the stairs, her kimono gathered in one hand as she moved through the corridors. Before she could reach the lower hall, the Pavilion jolted again—harder this time—stone groaning as if something massive had struck from within.

The source was clear.

The inner courtyard.

When Aisha arrived, the night sky loomed above, lit by lanterns and scattered lamps that cast warm, trembling light across the scene. Servant girls had gathered in a loose ring, some clutching one another, others frozen in shock. Broken stone littered the garden floor. Dust still hung in the air.

Aisha pushed forward, her voice sharp and commanding.
“What is going on here?” she demanded. “Move aside—now.”

The servants scattered at once.

As the crowd parted, the scene at the center came into full view—and Aisha’s breath caught.

Wallus stood proudly amid the wreckage, posture relaxed, expression smug. Behind him hovered two enormous skeletal arms, half-emerged from a swirling black portal. One of those bony hands had just released its grip.

The woman it had been holding crashed to the ground.

“Tevu!” Aisha screamed.

Tevu tried to rise, muscles bulging as she forced herself upright. Blood dripped from her lip, dust clung to her skin, and her breathing was ragged. She staggered, coughing hard, but her glare burned just as fiercely as before.

Aisha rushed forward. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Wallus noticed her then, casually tossing his hair aside as though welcoming an audience.
“If you want to fight too, bring it on,” he said lightly. “I was planning on reducing this whole Pavilion to rubble anyway.”

Aisha froze for a fraction of a second—then steadied herself.

“Mr. Wallus,” she said, her voice cool despite the fury boiling beneath it. “Why are you attacking our girls?”

Wallus gestured lazily.

“Are we attacking?” he scoffed. “How rude. I merely defended my men from this loose cannon you call a courtesan.”

“What are you talking about?” Aisha demanded.

Wallus pointed toward the four battered men slumped against shattered stone, faces swollen and bloodied.
“Look at them. She assaulted my crewmates. As their captain, I had to step in.”

The men immediately seized the opening.

“Yes! That bitch attacked us out of nowhere,” one spat.
“We were just walking around,” another added quickly. “Flirting a little, that’s all.”
“She just started beating us for fun!” a third snarled.

Tevu’s eyes flared.

She forced herself upright like a corpse clawing out of the grave, slamming her fist into the ground. The earth answered instantly—stone crawling up her arms, forming heavy gauntlets.

“You lying pieces of shit,” she growled.

She took a step forward, ready to charge again.

Wallus moved as well, the skeletal arm curling into a massive fist, dark energy crackling at its joints.

“That’s enough!” Aisha shouted.

She thrust her hand toward Tevu.

The fabric of Tevu’s kimono rippled—then snapped tight, twisting and wrapping around her limbs like a living thing. In an instant, Tevu was bound head to toe, arms pinned to her sides, legs locked together. She lost her balance and slammed face-first into the stone.

“Aisha! Let me go!” Tevu roared, struggling violently. The enchanted cloth groaned under the strain but held firm, reinforced by Aisha’s focused mana.

Aisha stepped fully between them, eyes blazing.

“That is enough. Both of you—stand down. Now.”

Her gaze swept from Wallus to Tevu, then to the battered men and the ring of terrified servants hovering at the edges of the courtyard. The skeletal arms loomed behind Wallus like a grotesque throne, while rubble and broken stone bore silent witness to how close this had come to becoming a massacre.

“I will hear exactly what happened,” Aisha said coldly. “And I will decide what comes next.”

More members of the Pavilion rushed in as word spread.

Gina and Fina arrived first, slipping through the crowd with sharp, wary looks.
“What the hell happened here?” Gina muttered under her breath.

Moments later, Haria appeared, kimono loosely draped, the faint scent of incense and perfume clinging to her—clearly torn away mid-service. She took in the scene with a single glance and sighed lightly.
“Well… this certainly escalated.”

Last came Kazyak, stomping in with barely contained fury. Her eyes locked onto Tevu, bound by living cloth—and then shifted to the massive skeletal arm floating behind Wallus. Her lips curled.
“Tch. So that bastard was hiding something like that.”

With the guild gathered, Aisha ordered everyone to speak—one by one.

Wallus’s crewmates went first, spinning their version with wounded pride and exaggerated innocence. They claimed harmless flirting, provocation, and sudden violence. Their words were loud, defensive, and poorly rehearsed.

Then Tevu spoke.

Her voice was raw, strained through pain, but steady. She recounted the harassment, the hands grabbing, the fear in the servants’ eyes, and the moment she decided she would not allow it under her watch.

Next, Aisha summoned the two servant girls.

Shaking but resolute, they told their story—of being cornered, grabbed, mocked, and ignored when they pleaded to be let go. Their words cut through the lies cleanly.

Finally, Wallus spoke, calm and smooth, framing himself as a reluctant protector forced to intervene when matters “spiraled out of control.”

When the explanations ended, a heavy silence settled over the courtyard.

Kazyak was the first to break it.

“You church scum are so fucking horny you’ll even go after servants,” she snarled. “You all deserve to be beaten to death with my bare hands.”

Her arms twisted mid-sentence, flesh reshaping into jagged claws as she stepped forward, murderous intent rolling off her in waves.

Before anyone could react, Haria lifted her hand.

A gentle sweep of her wrist sent a sweet, intoxicating fragrance drifting through the air. The perfume reached Kazyak first.

“…What—” Kazyak staggered, eyes unfocusing. “Haria, you bitch—”

Her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the stone floor, unconscious before she could finish the sentence.

Haria lowered her hand calmly.
“Let’s not turn this into a bloodbath,” she said softly.

She inclined her head, voice smooth and measured. “Apologies for my sister’s outburst. As she was saying, servants are not to be bedded. However, light flirting alone is not grounds for punishment.”

Tevu stared at her, disbelief flashing across her battered face.
“What? They tried to force themselves on our girls. How is that not enough?”

Wallus scoffed, folding his arms with an air of practiced indifference.
“These stories are being exaggerated. My men flirted, yes—but they would never force themselves on anyone. If you claim otherwise, then produce proof.”

Tevu’s jaw clenched. “You’ve been freeloading here for days, eyeing every girl like meat on a hook, and you still have the gall to—”

Wallus cut her off with a glacial stare.
“Proof,” he repeated. “Were their clothes torn? Were they stripped naked? Are there visible signs of force? No. None.”
He spread his hands mockingly. “You have nothing but testimony.”

“That’s because I stopped it before it went that far,” Tevu shot back.

“And so you say,” Wallus replied coolly. “What I see instead is a group of church guests being assaulted by a guild enforcer who harbors open hostility toward humans—and toward the Church.” His eyes flicked toward his bruised crewmates. “Look at them. Broken noses. Cracked ribs. Their wounds are very real. That is proof.”

“They fucking deserved it,” Tevu snarled.

Wallus’s smile thinned.
“There is no proof my men attacked your servants. The only proof that exists is that you attacked mine. If this matter reaches the BRAVE Guild, I am certain they will investigate very thoroughly.”

Tevu took a step forward, rage boiling over. “Say that again and I’ll—”

“That’s enough,” Haria said sharply.

The courtyard fell silent.

She turned her gaze to Tevu, expression no longer gentle.
“If the servants were assaulted, we need proof. Without it, what you did cannot be justified—no matter your intent.”

Tevu froze, stunned. “You’re siding with those bastards?”

Gina took a sharp step forward. “Don’t you dare defend that piece of shit!”
Fina stepped in quickly, gripping her sister’s arm. “Enough, sister. This isn’t our place to intervene.”

“Fina, what!” complained Gina before being pulled away by her sister.

Haria did not answer immediately. Instead, she leaned closer to Aisha, lowering her voice so only she could hear.

“If this escalates to the civil court, the Church could retaliate. Hard. The Isle Continent leaders are already negotiating at Despora. If peace talks sour because of this, the blame will fall on us.” Her eyes flicked briefly to Wallus. “At best, the guild is dissolved. At worst… executions. We already have plenty of enemies as it is.”

Aisha’s breath caught. Cold sweat beaded along her spine as the weight of the situation settled in.

What should I do…?
The answer did not come easily—and the silence stretched, heavy with consequence.