Ch 12.5

The cabin was barely standing.

Half the roof had been torn away by the earlier clash, leaving jagged beams exposed to the open sky. Smoke drifted through the broken rafters. Splintered furniture and shattered stone littered the floor, and embers from the burning fabrics flickered along the ruined walls.

Amid the wreckage, Wallus remained seated on the surviving sofa.

A glass of wine rested in his hand. He took another sip as if nothing unusual had happened.

Behind him, his men crouched low behind an overturned couch they had dragged into place as a barricade.

“Boss,” one of them muttered, peeking over the edge, “should we join the fight? Help that rat?”

Wallus didn’t even look at him.
“Save your breath,” he said lazily. “It’s not like he needs help.”

Another man—older, more cautious lifted his head.
“But Captain Wallus… if he actually kills the girl, won’t your oath activate?”

Wallus let out a slow sigh.
“Well,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, “I’m a former Holy Knight, remember? That clause shouldn’t apply to me anymore. We made a deal with the church after all.”

He leaned back deeper into the sofa.
“Besides, whether she lives or dies doesn’t concern me.”

His eyes drifted briefly toward Chloe across the ruined room.
“The Church sends fools like her on missions like this to die anyway. That’s why they’re given assignments no sane person would take.”

He scoffed softly.
“And the fools never realize it.”

Still, despite his relaxed posture, a faint crease formed at the edge of his brow.

The oath.

Even now, it lingered in the back of Wallus’s mind like a thorn.

The Holy Knights are sworn to protect the Church’s high-ranking officials. Wallus had once taken that oath himself when he became a Holy Knight, but after falling from grace and losing his rank, he was spared despite the crimes he had committed.

He had been living as a mercenary when the Church sought out his aid again—this time to escort the bishop to the Isle continent for a meeting with the Warlords.

Refusal would have made him a target, so he had taken the job.

The strangest part was the order they’d received afterward.
Escort the bishop to the Isle… but do not accompany him inland.

At the time, Wallus hadn’t questioned it aloud. But the implication had been obvious.

Either the Church truly believed the Isle tribes wouldn’t dare touch a bishop… or the Church never intended for that bishop to return.

Wallus didn’t particularly care which it was.

He had used the Church’s authority while he had it—enjoying the privileges, throwing his weight around, reminding people who supposedly stood above them.

Still, he hadn’t expected an abbess to appear here.

That had not been part of the calculation. Fortunately, fate had handed him an ally.

Nosmos.

Wallus took another slow sip of wine, the firelight dancing across the surface of the glass.

With the Tooth-and-Nail guildmaster on his side, the situation had suddenly become far more entertaining.

Across the ruined cabin, Aisha stepped forward, placing herself between Nosmos and the others. The tattered carpet beneath her feet lifted and coiled through the air like a living serpent, its edges twitching as threads tightened under her control.

“Meriath. Chloe,” Aisha said without turning. “Get out of here. I’ll buy you time.”

Behind her, Meriath straightened despite the bandages wrapped across her chest and wings. Her talons slid free with a soft scrape.

“I may be injured,” she growled, “but I still have fight left in me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chloe bent down among the debris and picked up the broken base of a table lamp, gripping it like a makeshift club. The metal rod was bent, and the glass shade shattered halfway.

“I’m staying too,” Chloe said firmly. “The three of us will take him down.”

Aisha turned halfway, eyes flashing with frustration.
“You two will only get in the way,” Aisha snapped. “Leave. Now.”

“No.”

The answer came from both of them at the same time.

Nosmos watched the exchange with faint amusement. His eyes moved between them—Aisha shielding the front, Meriath stubborn despite her injuries, and Chloe gripping a broken lamp like a weapon.

Then he moved.
One step. His figure blurred.

In the next instant, he stood behind Chloe and Meriath.

Aisha’s eyes widened. “No!”

Meriath reacted first. Her talons slashed backward in a sharp arc aimed at Nosmos’s chest.

Nosmos caught the strike with his bare hand.
His fingers closed around the curved talon, stopping the attack as if it weighed nothing.

Chloe gasped but forced herself forward. She swung the broken lamp with both hands and brought it down hard against Nosmos’s shoulder.

The metal rod struck with a dull clang.

Nosmos didn’t even flinch.

Chloe wasn’t tall enough to reach his head. The blows landed against his shoulder and back, each one echoing through the ruined room—but none of them slowed him.

Nosmos turned his head slowly toward Chloe. Bloodlust burned in his eyes. Then he moved.

With one hand still gripping Meriath’s talon, he seized her throat with the other and lifted her effortlessly off the ground. Her feet kicked helplessly in the air as his fingers tightened around her neck.

Meriath clawed at his wrist, struggling for breath.

Chloe’s fear turned into frantic fury. She kept striking him with the lamp again and again—metal thudding against flesh, a dull thud each time.

Nosmos ignored Chloe’s attack completely.

Across the room, Aisha raised her hand, fabric twisting around her arm as mana gathered.
“You bastard!”

But Nosmos moved first. Without even looking, he hurled Meriath. The injured avian woman flew across the cabin like a thrown spear.

Aisha’s spell collapsed mid-cast. “Meriath!”

She abandoned the attack and rushed forward, catching Meriath’s falling body just before it smashed into the floor. The force of the throw knocked both of them down, and they rolled across the debris-strewn ground before coming to a stop.

Dust rose around them.

Behind them, Nosmos turned his full attention back to Chloe.
“Is that what you call an attack?” he asked, his voice calm and almost curious.

Chloe’s hands trembled around the bent metal lamp. Even so, she kept it raised between them.
“Please… stop this ruthless violence at once,” she said, her voice tight with fear.

Nosmos stepped forward.

Before she could swing again, his hand shot out and caught the lamp mid-motion. The iron rod stopped dead in his grip.

“Let me show you,” he said quietly, “how to attack properly.”

He wrenched the weapon from her hands as if it weighed nothing.

Chloe stumbled backward. Her legs shook beneath her, and for the first time since entering the cabin, she looked truly cornered.

Nosmos lifted the lamp. Then he swung.
The metal base smashed into Chloe’s head. Glass exploded on impact, scattering across the ruined floor.

Chloe collapsed with a dull thud.

Nosmos lowered the broken handle, staring down at her.
“Now you get a taste of what my little brother went through,” he said coldly. “You human vermin.”

But as soon as Chloe was hit, a sharp crack suddenly echoed through the room.
Wallus’s wine glass shattered in his hand.

The fragments fell around his boots as his fingers clenched reflexively. A violent pulse of pain shot through his skull, and he staggered, grabbing his head as sweat instantly beaded across his brow.

What—?

The pain surged again, splitting through his temples like a blade.

No… this can’t be…

He dropped to one knee.
“Boss!” one of his men shouted, rushing forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Shut up!” Wallus barked, his voice strained.

Across the room, Nosmos glanced briefly in his direction.
“Something’s a matter, Mr. Wallus?” he asked mildly.

Wallus forced himself upright, his jaw tight as he wiped the sweat from his face. His eyes flicked once toward Chloe lying on the ground, blood spreading slowly through her hair.

“I’m fine,” he said through a pained smile. “Don’t worry about me.”

Nosmos studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Very well.”

He turned back toward Chloe. She lay motionless on the floor, blood running from the wound on her head and staining the debris beneath her.

Nosmos took a step toward her to go grab Chloe—and just when, a massive white fist slammed into him.

The blow came out of nowhere.

Nosmos raised his guard instinctively, arms crossing as the strike connected. The force blasted him backward across the ruined cabin. His boots scraped through splintered wood and shattered stone before he finally dug his heels into the floor and stopped.

Dust settled around him. When the smoke cleared, the attacker stood revealed.

A towering figure made of cloth.

Curtains, carpets, torn garments, and ripped upholstery twisted together into the shape of a three-meter-tall humanoid monster. Threads stretched tight like tendons, and layers of fabric coiled around its limbs like armor.

Behind it stood Aisha.
Her arm was raised, fingers flexing as mana threads pulled through the construct like puppet strings.

Nosmos straightened slowly, brushing dust from his coat.
“A golem,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “How adorable.”

Behind the towering fabric construct, Meriath hurried to Chloe’s side and helped her sit up.

“Kid,” she said urgently, gripping her shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Chloe groaned as awareness returned. The world tilted around her, her vision swimming as a heavy pulse throbbed through her skull. “Ah… y-yes… I think so,” she murmured.

Blood trickled down the side of her head, matting strands of her hair. Still, she forced herself upright. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and the room spun from the blow Nosmos had dealt her.

In front of them, the cloth golem stood like a towering sentinel.
Curtains, carpets, and torn fabric twisted together into a three-meter giant, its broad shoulders blocking Nosmos from advancing. Threads pulled tight across its limbs as Aisha manipulated it from behind.

“Meriath, Chloe—get out of here,” Aisha ordered sharply.
“Warn the others. Evacuate the Pavilion and send word to the guildmaster.”

Her voice hardened.
“Nosmos and that bastard will pay for this.”
She lifted her hand. “Go, Revspa.”

The golem surged forward at once.

Heavy fabric fists swung toward Nosmos with crushing force, each step shaking loose debris across the ruined floor. But Nosmos moved with effortless ease. He slipped past the blows like a dancer avoiding clumsy strikes, the giant’s fists tearing holes in the air where he had been moments before.

Aisha’s fingers twitched rapidly, guiding the construct through precise motions, trying to corner him.

Behind the battle, Meriath hooked Chloe’s arm around her shoulders.
“Come on,” she muttered. “Let’s move.”

Together they staggered toward the exit, supporting one another as they tried to escape and alert the others.

Nosmos noticed immediately. His expression darkened.
"I don't recall giving either of you permission to leave."

His voice was calm, but every word carried an unmistakable weight.
"You were supposed to remain exactly where you were."

Orange light suddenly bloomed around his clenched fist.

Mana compressed into his hand until it shone like a miniature sun. The surrounding air distorted from the unbearable heat radiating from it, and the wooden floor beneath his feet began to blacken.

Aisha's eyes widened. "Move!"
She thrust both palms forward.

Mana surged into the cloth golem, causing its massive frame to lunge toward Nosmos. Its enormous arms blurred as they unleashed a relentless barrage of heavy punches, each strike carrying enough force to shatter stone.

The guildmaster didn't retreat. He simply took a single step to the side.
Every punch missed him by the narrowest of margins.

His movements were effortless. Elegant.
As though he had already seen every attack before it happened.

Then— He countered.

Nosmos drove his blazing fist straight into the golem's abdomen.
The moment his knuckles connected—

Boom!

An eruption of searing mana exploded from the point of impact.

A burning hole the size of a wagon burst through the construct's torso as the intense heat instantly ignited the enchanted cloth. Flames raced across its body while the enormous golem was hurled backward like a flaming cannonball.

Nosmos calmly lowered his arm. His gaze followed the burning construct.
It was flying directly toward Chloe and Meriath.

The two women, both barely able to stand, had no time to notice the incoming mass of blazing cloth.

"Move!" Aisha screamed.
Without hesitation, she threw herself forward.

She slammed into Chloe and Meriath, shoving both women aside just before the burning golem crashed into them.

Chloe and Meriath rolled across the floor.
Aisha wasn't as fortunate.

The blazing construct struck her head-on.

The impact carried both of them through the shattered doorway before blasting into the courtyard beyond.

At that exact moment— Tevu had only just struggled back onto her feet.
"What—"

She barely managed a single word before the flaming golem, with Aisha pinned against it, slammed directly into her.

The collision sent all three hurtling across the courtyard.
They crashed through the wall of a nearby cabin with a deafening roar.

Wood splintered. Roof tiles exploded into the air.

Support beams snapped like twigs as the burning construct tore straight through the building, scattering debris in every direction.

Flames spread instantly. For several long seconds...
The cabin trembled violently.

Then thick smoke billowed upward, swallowing the ruined structure whole.
Silence settled over the devastated room.

Smoke drifted lazily through the shattered ceiling while glowing embers floated through the air. Burnt cloth continued to smolder among the broken beams, filling the cabin with the acrid scent of smoke.

Only two figures remained standing.

Meriath- though bruised, bandaged, and exhausted, she still stood with her talons extended, refusing to retreat.

Beside her stood Chloe.

Blood trickled from the side of her forehead, and her legs trembled beneath her weight. Her vision remained blurred from the earlier blow, yet she still forced herself upright, staring directly at Nosmos.

Across from them, Nosmos stood completely untouched.

The Guildmaster continued his slow approach.
Each measured footstep echoed throughout the ruined cabin.

Not a drop of sweat stained his immaculate white suit. Not a wrinkle had formed in his clothes. Even after cutting through everyone who stood before him, his posture remained as composed as when he had first entered.

His gaze shifted from Meriath to Chloe.
"Miss Bandage," he said flatly. "I have business with that human girl."

Chloe instinctively flinched.

Before she could respond, Meriath stepped in front of her.
Her talons rose, and her battered wings trembled from pain.
"Oh, I see," she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "You storm into our home, beat my sisters half to death..."

She bared her fangs.
"And now you expect me to hand another one over like she's tonight's dinner?"

Her eyes narrowed into slits.
"You've got another thing coming."

She lunged.

Despite the injuries slowing her body, her attack was ferocious. Her talons carved through the air in a flurry of slashes aimed at Nosmos's throat and chest.

Nosmos remained expressionless. He shifted half a step to the left.
The first strike missed.

He pivoted. The second slash cut through empty air.

Another step.

The third, fourth, and fifth attacks all failed to touch him, each one missing by mere inches.

It was as though he had already memorized every movement before Meriath had even made it.

"For someone in your condition," Nosmos said calmly, "you certainly talk big."

His arm rose without haste.

Then—Smack!
The back of his hand crashed across Meriath's face.
The force sent her flying across the room.

She slammed into the broken floorboards and skidded through shattered timber before finally coming to a stop amidst the debris.

"Meriath!" Chloe cried.

She rushed toward her friend before turning back to Nosmos, tears filling her eyes.
"Please... stop!"

Nosmos looked down at her with complete indifference.
"You could have prevented all of this."

His voice remained calm.
"If you had surrendered yourself from the beginning, none of them would have suffered."

Chloe's legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed onto her knees.
Her trembling hands pressed against the cracked wooden floor.

I still have things I have to do...
Her fingers slowly curled into fists. Forgive me... my Lord...

Nosmos silently raised his right hand.

Brilliant orange mana gathered around his fist once more, condensing into a blazing sphere. The temperature inside the cabin rose instantly as waves of heat distorted the air.

He drew his arm back. "Die."

His fist shot forward—and abruptly stopped.

A bony hand had seized his wrist.

The skeletal fingers locked around his arm with surprising strength, preventing the punch from moving another inch.

Behind Nosmos, space rippled.

A small circular portal flickered into existence, and from within it protruded a human-sized skeletal arm, bleached white and unnaturally rigid.

Nosmos's eyes narrowed. He slowly turned his head.
Soft footsteps echoed across the ruined floor.

Wallus emerged from behind him with an almost leisurely stride. He casually circled around Nosmos before stopping between him and Chloe.

He stretched his shoulders before letting out a tired sigh.
"Sorry, Mr. Nosmos."

He rubbed the back of his neck as though apologizing for arriving late to an appointment. "But I can't let you kill the abbess."

There wasn't the slightest urgency in his voice.
If anything, he sounded mildly inconvenienced.

A vein pulsed along Nosmos's temple.

His expression hardened.
"What..."

His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
"...is the meaning of this, Mr. Wallus?"