CHAPTER 40: A SCUFFLE PART 2

"Jesus, she’s strong," he grunted. "Wolf-girl’s got power like a damn ox."

Ragna stared up at him, shock flickering across her features.

He was just a human. No visible magic aura. No beast blood. No blessings.

But his technique matched hers. In some ways, exceeded it.

Behind them, Mira tried to cast.

She raised her staff and began the incantation for a force push, mana gathering at the tip.

A third soldier lunged for her.

Mira snapped the spell off early, releasing it with a half-formed word. A blast of compressed air erupted, slamming into the man’s chest and knocking him back a step.

He didn’t fall.

He grunted, one boot sliding in the dirt, but he planted the other and rode out the impact. Before Mira could draw more mana, he closed the gap, hands latching onto the shaft of her staff.

She tried to twist away. He stepped in, dragged the staff across his hip, and wrenched. Her grip broke. The staff tore from her hands and clattered away.

His knee came up, stopping just short of her stomach, controlled even in motion.

"On your knees," he snapped. "Hands behind your head. Now."

Mira’s heart hammered. He shouldn’t have been able to shrug off that much force with only a stagger. Most men her size would have gone flying.

These weren’t farmers in armor.

They were something else.

On the ridge above, more soldiers had lined up, weapons aimed. The air felt tight, every movement watched through strange metal tubes and glass.

"Squad, status!" the leader barked.

"Target one pinned," the man restraining Lyris answered.

"Target two pinned," Ragna’s opponent called out. "Strong as hell, but she’s not getting up without my permission."

"Target three disarmed," the third man reported. "No visible weapons, but she’s got some kind of force magic. Hands clear."

The leader lowered his weapon slightly, breathing hard but steady.

"Good. Hold them."

Lyris clenched her jaw against the pressure on her wrist.

"We came here to help," she said between breaths. "And this is how you greet us?"

"You came here armed and refused to comply with security instructions," the leader replied flatly. "This is how we greet anyone who does that."

Ragna growled low in her throat. The man on top of her shifted just enough to keep her from bucking him off.

Mira stayed still. Her magic reserve wasn’t bottomless. One wrong move, and those black metal "wands" would spit... something.

She’d seen what "guns" did to goblins in Serin’s halting description. She didn’t want to find out firsthand.

The leader stepped closer now, stopping just outside of weapon range. Up close, the details of his gear were clearer. Dark plates over chest and shoulders. Pouches along his vest. A strange black square clipped to his chest with a glowing green dot. The long weapon held in a ready stance, barrel lowered but not relaxed.

"Look," he said, voice lowering a notch. "We’re not here to execute random travelers. But this place is under strict lockdown. We’ve had monsters, raiders, and worse trying to test our perimeter for weeks. You walk up with steel and spells and refuse to drop them when told, you get treated as hostile until we know better."

Lyris met his gaze, eyes cold.

"We’re C-rank adventurers of the Silverleaf party," she said. "We accepted the Aldo request from the capital. We thought we’d find a village begging for help. Or ashes. Or goblins. Not... whatever this is."

The leader exhaled, some tension easing from his shoulders.

"Silverleaf," he repeated. "Good. Names help."

He raised his voice just enough for the squad to hear. "Alright. They understand us, they talk like locals, and they’re not demons. That’s a start. Ease up a bit, but keep them secured."

The pressure on Lyris’ arm lessened slightly. Ragna’s throat was no longer under direct threat. Mira’s captor stepped back half a pace, though his stance stayed ready.

The leader slung his weapon across his chest, free hand opening in a more neutral gesture.

"Name’s Ramirez," he said. "Sergeant. Atlas security. This installation is under the authority of Atlas and its commanding officer. You want to talk instead of fight, we can do that. But you play by our rules while you’re standing outside our walls."

Ragna scoffed. "You call that "not fighting"?"

Ramirez tilted his head slightly toward the distant ridge where the towers watched.

"If we wanted a real fight," he said, "you wouldn’t be breathing right now."

That landed.

Lyris didn’t miss the implication. They’d closed to hand-to-hand instead of just using those weapons from range. That meant restraint. Intentional.

She let out a slow breath.

"Fine," she said. "We’ll... cooperate. For now."

Ramirez nodded once.

"Good choice."

He looked to the men pinning them.

"Let them up. Slow. Keep it clean."

The soldier controlling Lyris shifted his weight, releasing her wrist but staying within reach. She rolled onto one knee first, testing, then rose to her feet without going for her bow.

Ragna pushed herself up, rubbing the back of her neck, eyes narrowed. Her sword still lay on the ground a few steps away.

"Leave it," her opponent said. "We’ll collect your steel. You’ll get it back once command clears you."

Mira retrieved nothing. She simply stood with her hands visible, watching.

More soldiers had arrived by now, forming a loose half-circle. Some still had their weapons trained, others watched with professional detachment.

Ramirez stepped back enough to address all three at once.

"Here’s how this is going to go," he said. "You’re going to surrender your weapons. All of them. Knives, blades, hidden daggers, everything. You’re going to come with us inside the perimeter for questioning. No blindfolds, no cages, no chains—as long as you don’t pull anything stupid."

Ragna’s ears flicked at the word "cages."

Mira spoke for the first time since the takedown.

"And if we refuse?"

Ramirez’s expression didn’t change.

"Then we restrain you, bag you, and drag you inside anyway," he said. "Because you’ve already seen this place. You’re not walking away and telling every raider between here and the frontier how to find us."

Silence.

The wind pushed a faint smell of oil and metal from the walls.

Lyris looked at Mira. Then at Ragna.

Ragna grumbled, but didn’t argue. "If they really wanted us dead," she said low, "we’d be corpses already."

Mira nodded once. "We came to see what happened to Aldo. We found it. Now we deal with what that means."

Lyris turned back to Ramirez.

"Alright," she said. "We’ll go with you willingly."