Chapter 227: Airmid Who Fell Into The Pit

A mouthful of blood sprayed from the commander's mouth as he collapsed.

The sheer force of the blow had sent searing pain through his abdomen, leaving him unable to even groan.

In an instant, the resolve of the gathered thugs—so recently bolstered—shattered like glass.

If even their commander had fallen so easily, what chance did they have?

Panic spread like wildfire.

A mass of adventurers scattered in all directions, fleeing like startled prey.

They had never been bound by loyalty—only by greed.

And now, with their lives on the line, survival was all that mattered.

At a time like this, 'companions' made for the best human shields.

As long as they ran faster than the others, they wouldn't have to worry about being caught.

Once they made it past the Sumo Familia's territory and into the city of Orario, their chances of escape would skyrocket.

As for the reason they had gathered here in the first place?

That was the last thing on their minds now.

Quinn nocked two arrows and let them fly.

Both struck true, embedding themselves in the knees of fleeing adventurers.

A desperate sprint turned into a forward crash, bodies hitting the dirt with a dull thud.

Still, many managed to escape, but Quinn didn't bother giving chase.

She wasn't the only one hunting tonight.

As expected, the moment those men thought they had slipped away, a chorus of panicked screams rang out in the distance.

Not long after, several figures came stumbling back, terror written across their faces.

Click. Clack.

Footsteps echoed through the darkness behind them.

Vayne emerged from the shadows, her expression cold, her movements unhurried.

"Give it up, you filthy rats," she said, her voice laced with disdain.

To the ones who had fled, seeing Vayne standing there—bow and crossbow in hand—was like being sentenced to death.

The massive crossbow slung over her back, paired with those thick, armor-piercing bolts, made her presence even more terrifying than Quinn's.

Quinn tilted her head slightly as Vayne came to stand beside her.

"Hmph. Didn't expect to catch such a big fish tonight…" she mused, eyes glinting with amusement.

She had little interest in taking down weaklings.

Their true objective in storming the Sumo Familia's estate had always been Airmid.

Nothing symbolized the Dian Cecht Familia more than its so-called 'Saint of Battle.'

"Damn it! This is the Sumo Familia's territory! Do you really want to start a war with them?!"

The desperate shout came from the battered commander beneath Quinn's boot.

She glanced down at him, unimpressed.

"Spare me the self-delusions," she scoffed. "The Sumo Familia will be dealt with soon enough. None of you are getting out of this."

Despite his injuries, the man was still trying to act tough.

Quinn had to admit, his endurance was remarkable.

Even though she had taken his strength into account, the force of her attack had been anything but light.

Yet here he was, still breathing.

Still moving.

Still running his mouth.

Annoying.

Quinn slowly raised her crossbow again, this time leveling it at his forehead.

Her finger rested on the trigger.

"Damn it! You're making enemies of all of Orario! Do you really think you can take us on with just your strength?"

Quinn smirked, amusement dancing in her sharp eyes.

"Relax. Scum like you don't represent all of Orario," she replied coolly. "And even if we were up against the entire city, we wouldn't be worried in the slightest."

The sarcastic edge in her voice sent a chill down the man's spine.

Before he could respond, Quinn pulled the trigger.

Thwip!

The arrow grazed his cheek before burying itself in the ground behind him.

A sharp sting flared across his face, and his breath hitched.

For a moment, he swore he saw his grandmother waving at him from the afterlife.

Then he felt it—the warmth spreading down his legs, soaking his crotch.

Humiliation and fear twisted his expression.

Quinn didn't bother hiding her killing intent.

The commanding officer—so arrogant just moments before—fell silent, too terrified to utter another word.

Meanwhile, Vayne had already finished dealing with the remaining lowlifes.

With the immediate threats handled, Quinn shifted her focus.

"Now, onto more important matters." She turned her gaze toward a certain figure. "Miss Airmid, care to explain why you're here?"

She pressed her boot down hard on the commander's chest, fresh pain piling onto old wounds.

The man's body convulsed once before slumping into unconsciousness.

Satisfied, Quinn straightened, her sharp falcon-like eyes locking onto Airmid.

Throughout the entire ordeal, the battlefield medic had made no move to intervene.

Not that Quinn was surprised. Airmid was no warrior—she knew full well she wasn't a match for them.

Even now, her expression remained neutral, as if she had already resigned herself to the situation.

She understood the truth.

If it weren't for her own god's reckless schemes, she wouldn't be in this mess.

A twinge of resentment stirred within Airmid.

Thinking about the inevitable retaliation ahead, her head throbbed.

She had never wanted any part in this conflict.

She was a healer. A pharmacist.

Why did trouble always find her?

"…We were simply hired by the Sumo Familia to treat their wounded," Airmid finally said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "We had no intention of opposing you."

She knew her explanation was flimsy, but it was the only card she could play.

Even if it wouldn't change anything, she had to try.

Quinn chuckled, the sound laced with scorn.

"Hah. The Saint of Battle, lying so brazenly. You expect me to believe you don't know where these men came from?"

Her piercing gaze bore into Airmid, suffocating in its intensity.

The healer felt a heavy pressure settle over her shoulders.

Negotiation was never an option, was it?

She sighed inwardly.

Lord Dian Cecht, you've really dragged me into a mess this time…

Now, all she could do was pray that this 'mess' wouldn't turn into a catastrophe—one that would bring ruin to their entire familia.

No matter how skilled a healer she was, Airmid knew there were battles that medicine alone couldn't fix.

And right now, she and her familia were on the wrong side of this war.

Many in Orario turned a blind eye to such dealings, waiting to see how the situation would unfold.

But Airmid wasn't blind.

She knew the truth.

At this moment, she and her people were no different from accomplices.

Helping the wicked.

And in the face of absolute power, there was nothing she could do about it.