Ch 13.2

Atop the Pavilion’s upper levels, the fire had grown wild.

What had begun as scattered flames now roared unchecked, fed by the strong coastal winds that swept through Barville. The gusts howled through broken walls and shattered windows, fanning the blaze into something far more dangerous. Curtains, beams, and wooden frames ignited one after another, and the fire spread greedily across adjoining rooms.

Several courtesan chambers were already consumed by the flames.
The storehouse had collapsed into charred ruin—its contents reduced to ash as blackened bricks began to loosen and fall.

The Pavilion groaned under the strain. But reinforcements had finally arrived.

On one of the upper rooftops stood a short, furry beastman with a round, swollen frame. A cloth scarf covered most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible as he surveyed the destruction below.

“…What a mess,” he muttered. “This place is practically falling apart, isn’t it, Frukt?”

Beside him sat a massive toad—four times his size—its brown, spotted body unmoving, eyes half-lidded as if entirely unimpressed by the chaos. “Croak.”

It didn’t seem particularly concerned.

A heavy footstep approached. A tall, broad-shouldered ape beastman stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate attention.
“Tiran,” he said firmly. “You and your pet should be able to handle that fire above.”

He pointed toward the blazing upper structure.
“Make sure the building doesn’t collapse. That much, at least, is within our duty.”

Tiran squinted up at the inferno.
“Mr. Bolio…That’s a big fire,” he complained. “And you want just the two of us to handle it? Sounds like a pain.”

The toad croaked again, as if agreeing.

The ape beastman, Bolio, sighed.
“Fine. If you do that, dinner’s on me.”

A pause.
“…Deal,” Tiran replied instantly.

"Listen up," Bolio commanded, facing his squad with a firm expression. "We are the city guards of Barville, and our main duty is to keep order. Unfortunately, the threats we face now are beyond our strength, and we must rely on Sir Monk Rugbert and Verdant the Wise to handle the two assailants."

The assembled beastmen listened closely. Bolio raised a clenched fist, his tone hardening. "With the main forces gone to the summit, protecting this town falls to us. It may feel cowardly to ask for help, but the safety of the people and the city takes far greater priority than our honor."

"So, we do what we can," he continued after a brief pause, his gaze sweeping over them. "Our task is simple: once Wallus—the Church envoy—and Nosmos of Tooth & Nail are subdued, we move in to secure them."

Stepping forward, he detailed their immediate actions: "Until then, focus on the present—evacuate civilians, contain the fire, minimize damage, and save everyone you can."

He concluded, pointing toward the injured below:
"Medical team—assist Agatha. We have casualties."

“Aye!” the group responded in unison.

“And one more thing,” he added, voice dropping slightly. “Stay out of the old monk’s way.”

“Tiran, get moving,” Bolio said, gesturing upward.
“That fire is yours. The structure is failing—handle it.”

Tiran nodded.

Bolio then turned to the rest.
“The rest of you—spread out. Put out the flames. Search for survivors. Move.”

No hesitation followed.

The beastmen scattered across the Pavilion, each rushing toward their assigned tasks as the chaos continued to unfold.

Within moments, only Tiran and his oversized toad remained near the burning tower.
“Alright, Frukt,” Tiran muttered, “Time to get back to work.”

“Croak,” replied the frog.

-------------x-------------

Meanwhile, below in the inner courtyard, the situation had finally begun to stabilize.

The arrival of the veteran beastmen had shifted the entire battlefield almost instantly.

With a single strike from Rugbert, Wallus had been completely taken out of the fight. The former Holy Knight now lay face-first in the dirt, smoke still faintly rising from his charred clothes as he remained unconscious.

Now the old monk’s full attention rested on Nosmos.

Rugbert stood sideways atop one of the iron pillars, balanced effortlessly while staring down at the guildmaster below. The faint crackle of electricity still danced around the metal pole beneath his feet.

On the other side, Verdant stood protectively before the injured girls like a living shield, his sharp falcon eyes never leaving the battlefield for even a moment.

Nearby, Agatha, the swan, knelt among the wounded, healing staff glowing softly as she moved from one sister to another.

Chloe was the first she treated. The young abbess had finally collapsed once she realized reinforcements had arrived and the Pavilion girls were no longer alone. Blood loss and exhaustion had pushed her past her limits. Even while unconscious, her hands were still scraped and bruised from dragging the others to safety.

Agatha carefully worked to close the wound on her head while stabilizing her breathing.

Meriath had tried to resist treatment at first, stubbornly attempting to stay awake despite her condition. But the painkillers and healing sedatives eventually took effect. Between reopening her old injuries and the damage she had sustained during the fight, she had lost too much blood to keep pushing herself further.

Now she rested beside Chloe in uneasy sleep. Tevu’s condition was rougher than it first appeared.

Burn marks covered parts of her body from the moment she had been smashed through the cabin alongside Aisha and the burning cloth golem. Worse still, she had used her own body to shield Aisha from the worst of the flames while dragging her to safety.

Even unconscious, her brow remained furrowed faintly, as though her body still remembered the pain.

Agatha had only managed basic treatment for now.

Gina and Fina, by comparison, had escaped with relatively minor injuries. Most of the damage they suffered came from the magical backlash when Nosmos obliterated their floating projectile spell in a single strike.

The twins remained unconscious but stable.
Out of everyone there, the one in the worst condition was Kazyak.

Kazyak’s condition was horrifying.

Her face was swollen and bloodied beyond recognition. The gauntlets she had used to block Nosmos’s punch had partially melted from the sheer heat of the impact, fused grotesquely against her burned hands and wrists. Parts of the molten metal had splashed across her face, leaving deep burns along her cheek and around one eye.

Even the force of her skull smashing into the floor had left visible damage.

And yet—somehow—she was still alive.

Agatha’s expression darkened the longer she examined her. The swan healer had remained composed through the chaos so far, but now genuine concern crossed her face.

“This is critical,” she said quietly.

Her glowing hands hovered near Kazyak’s head as she carefully checked the injuries.
“Her skull has partially caved in. There may already be clotting inside the brain.” Agatha’s voice tightened. “If we don’t operate soon, she may not survive.”

Aisha’s eyes widened.

Agatha continued, her tone growing grimmer.
“Her face and nose are badly crushed. The burns from the melted gauntlets have damaged the skin around her eyes.” She paused briefly. “If treatment is delayed… she could lose her sight.”

Haria covered her mouth.

Agatha glanced toward Kazyak’s arms.
“And her hands…” she murmured. “The metal has fused into the flesh.”

Even she looked troubled now.
“I can stabilize her temporarily, but I can’t perform surgery here. She needs to be moved immediately.”

Aisha felt her legs weaken. “No…” she whispered.

Her vision blurred slightly as exhaustion finally began catching up to her. She looked around at her sisters—the unconscious twins, Tevu’s burned body, Meriath asleep beside Chloe—and for the first time since the battle began, the weight of it all truly hit her.

The Pavilion had been devastated.
Her sisters were broken. The fatigue nearly made her collapse.

Thankfully, Haria caught her before she fell.
“Easy now,” Haria said gently, lowering her beside the lawn.

Then she turned toward Agatha.
“Please,” she said urgently, “take Kazyak right away. The others are stable enough for now. Save her first—I’m begging you.”

Agatha shook her head lightly.
“There’s no need to beg,” she replied. “But I’ll need help transporting her.”

Haria immediately turned.

Verdant still stood facing the battlefield, his sharp eyes fixed on Nosmos and Rugbert in the distance, ever watchful in case the situation exploded again.
“Sir Verdant…” Haria called out carefully. “Please… could you carry Kazyak to the medical center?”

The falcon beastman glanced back over his shoulder.
“Now, now,” he said with mild annoyance. “I am not some carriage bird.”

He folded his arms.
“I carried you here because you asked for aid. I came as a warrior—to protect you girls. Not to serve as mere means of transport.”

Haria slowly lowered herself to her knees. “Please,” she said again.

Her voice trembled this time.
“Kazyak’s condition is getting worse. Only you are fast enough to get her there safely.”

She lowered her head fully.
“The Pavilion… and I… will owe you a debt for the rest of my life.”

Verdant stared at her silently for a moment.

Then he sighed. “Hah…”
His stern expression softened slightly.

“You girls are like my granddaughters,” he muttered. “Makes it hard to refuse.”

He glanced once more toward the battlefield, disappointment briefly flickering across his face.
“I wanted to see them in action myself…”

Another sigh escaped him. “But very well. I’ll take her.”
He raised a talon finger. “Though I will not carry her on my back. You know my tribe’s customs.”

His golden eyes shifted toward Kazyak.
“I’ll carry her by my talons. If that’s acceptable.”

Haria immediately nodded in relief. “Thank you.”

Agatha stepped in at once.
“I’ll secure her properly first,” she said. “I don’t want her injuries worsening during transport.”

Her eyes scanned the ruined courtyard.
“I need cloth. Curtains, sheets, rags—anything long enough to wrap her tightly.”

Haria rushed toward the debris and tore down part of a nearby curtain before bringing the fabric back.

Agatha quickly got to work, carefully wrapping Kazyak’s battered body into a tight support swaddle, securing her head and limbs to prevent movement during flight.
Every movement was careful. Precise. Because in Kazyak’s condition, even a rough jolt could kill her.

Agatha and Aisha carefully secured the swaddled Kazyak to Verdant’s talons using long strips of cloth and rope. They tightened each knot slowly, making sure her head and broken body remained supported.

Verdant lowered his gaze toward the unconscious woman lying beside him. Even the old avian beastman looked disturbed by what he saw.

“So little Nos did this…” he muttered.

His sharp eyes narrowed faintly.
“Such brutality. And striking a woman in the face with that much force…” He clicked his tongue in disapproval.
“The boy has no courtesy whatsoever toward the opposite sex.”

He folded his arms briefly.
“Well, hopefully Rugbert knocks some manners into him. Defying the Warlord’s summons on top of this… he’s become rather troublesome lately.”

Agatha gave the bindings one final inspection before stepping back.
“Alright,” she called out. “She’s secured. Move carefully.”

Verdant nodded once. The next instant, his body shifted.

His arms spread outward, feathers bursting across them as his frame rapidly expanded. Bones cracked and reshaped until a massive falcon-like beast towered over the courtyard, wings unfurling wide against the firelit sky.

With a single powerful flap, he launched upward.
A violent gust swept through the courtyard, forcing Aisha and Agatha to shield their faces as dust, ash, and loose debris spiraled through the air.

Kazyak’s wrapped body swung beneath Verdant’s talons, secured tightly as he climbed higher into the sky.
“Please fly gently!” Aisha shouted after him, worry plain across her exhausted face. “She’s already badly injured!”

Verdant’s voice echoed back in his bird form.
“Do you want speed or gentleness, girl?”

“Hurry,” Agatha shouted upward irritably, “but don’t toss her around like cargo!”

“Yes, yes. I will be careful.” With another thunderous flap of his wings, Verdant disappeared into the sky, carrying Kazyak toward the medical district.

Only after he vanished did Aisha finally relax her shoulders slightly.

Agatha adjusted her grip on her healing staff and turned back toward the ruined Pavilion.
“Alright,” she said. “I’m going to check for the other injured,”

Haria suddenly grabbed her arm.
“Please…” she said quietly. “Take care of the wounded.”

Agatha gave her a reassuring nod. “Of course.”

Then the swan healer leapt lightly into the air, wings spreading behind her as she flew toward the burning sections of the Pavilion, her healing staff glowing softly amidst the smoke and flames.