Ch 12.7

The Pavilion was rapidly deteriorating.

Inside, the cabin where Aisha and Tevu landed was now engulfed in flames, which aggressively consumed the broken beams and walls, spreading threateningly to nearby parts of the structure. A different part of the building, the servants’ dormitories, was also on fire, with thick smoke billowing from the windows and embers scattering into the courtyard.

Fortunately, most of the servants had managed to evacuate to safety immediately following the first explosion, having been ordered to seek refuge inside the Pavilion after the initial commotion.

The damage was even more apparent in the upper tower, which had been struck by the projectile that Wallus deflected. What was once a sealed storage chamber now gaped open—a jagged, blasted hole tearing through the structure. The stonework was cracked and precarious, and smoke drifted into the sky as the entire Pavilion groaned under the immense strain.

The structure looked as if it could collapse at any moment. Smoke poured from its fractured sections, flames licked along the walls and beams, and a faint vibration of residual mana hung in the air.

Whatever destructive events were occurring inside were clearly ongoing.

A crowd gathered at the Pavilion following the second explosion. Smoke billowed skyward, and the sound of a distant fire crackled in the air.

"Did the girls get caught in an explosion?" an onlooker yelled, straining to see the damaged structure.

Panic began to rise. Voices overlapped, growing restless. "Someone alert the city guards!" another shouted. "There’s fire spreading—we should go in and help them! Should we break the doors down?"

A rough voice abruptly cut through the noise, silencing the mounting chaos.

"You idiots," snapped a former adventurer, stepping forward. "Can’t you feel that?"

His gaze was fixed on the Pavilion. "Mana," he continued. "Residual... and active. Something’s still happening inside."

A few focused, feeling the intense, unstable, and violent pressure in the air.

"If you rush in now," he added grimly, "you won’t be rescuing anyone. You’ll just get caught in it."

That was enough to stop the mob. Instead of rushing in, several people sprinted toward the city guard posts and nearby guild halls, shouting for reinforcements.

Inside, the servants moved quickly.

“Everybody!” one of the older servants shouted, her voice cutting through the rising panic.
“To the underground basements—now!”

Doors flew open. Courtesans rushed out in clusters, some clutching their robes, others helping one another as they hurried down the corridors. The younger servants quickly formed lines, guiding the frightened girls toward the cellar entrances.

Despite the chaos, there was structure.

Order.

The older and braver servants stayed behind, directing the flow, calming those who froze, pushing the hesitant forward.

“Keep moving! Don’t stop—downstairs is safer!”

Amid the movement, two familiar figures took charge.

“Calm down, everyone!” one of the orc sisters called out, her strong voice steadying the crowd. “We know those cellars better than anyone.”

“Yes, yes!” the taller one added, ushering a group forward. “It might smell a bit, but I promise—it’s the safest place in the whole Pavilion. Trust us.”

Their presence helped.

Slowly, the panic became manageable.

Then—

“Ah! Miss Sheila!”

The plump orc—Puru—waved as she spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

Sheila turned, her expression strained.

“Oh… Miss Puru… Miss Dem…”

She looked exhausted—pale, her movements sluggish. Her wings hung behind her, feathers dulled and drooping.

Puru and Dem exchanged a quick glance.

“Thank you for helping everyone,” Sheila said politely, trying to steady herself.

Dem stepped closer, concern evident.

“Miss Sheila… you don’t look well. Are you alright?”

Before Sheila could answer, Puru was already rummaging through her pouch.

“Here, eat this,” she said, holding out a handful of berries. “You’ll feel better.”

Sheila shook her head gently.

“I’m fine… just a little under the weather.”

Then, suddenly, her eyes widened.

“Wait—where’s Chloe?” she asked, her voice tightening. “Did she come down here?”

The two orcs paused.

“I… haven’t seen her,” Dem admitted.

Puru frowned.

“Now that you mention it… neither have I.”

Sheila’s breath hitched.

“Please—!” She grabbed onto their sleeves, desperation clear in her voice. “Please, you have to find her.”

Dem immediately placed a steady hand on her back, gently patting her feathers.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll find her.”

Puru nodded with a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, yeah. She’s probably just hiding somewhere—or stuck in the loo or something. We’ll go fetch her. You just get to safety first.”

Sheila hesitated—then nodded slowly.

“…Okay.”

She released their sleeves.
“I’ll go down… please bring her back.”

With that, she joined the line descending into the cellar, disappearing into the dim stairwell with the others.

Dem watched her go, then turned to Puru.

“I’ll check the upper floors,” she said.

Puru immediately puffed up.

“Hey, I’m coming with you!”

“Idiot,” Dem shot back. “What if Chloe comes here while we’re both gone?”

Puru opened her mouth—and paused. “…Oh.”

“You stay here,” Dem continued. “If Chloe shows up with the others, you can send word to me. Otherwise, I’ll just end up running in circles.”

Puru grumbled under her breath.

“…Fine. But you better not do anything stupid.”

Dem smirked faintly. “I’ll be fine.”

She gave a small nod. “Praise Zarnok.”

“Praise Zarnok,” Puru echoed without hesitation.

With that, Dem turned and rushed back into the Pavilion, heading deeper into the burning corridors in search of Chloe.

Behind her, Puru remained at the cellar entrance—watching, waiting, and hoping Chloe would appear, but the two of them had no idea that Chloe was in the middle of it all.