Chapter 127: Before Sunset (1)

The doors of the Central Crematorium slammed shut behind Astrid. The sound rolled through the receiving hall in a deep metallic boom, struck the high stone ceiling, then came back thinner.

Nobody inside reacted much. That, more than the noise outside, told her what kind of night they had already lived through.

Astrid barely noticed it herself. The place had once been built to process the dead and now, it was overflowing with people desperately trying not to join them.

The receiving hall was long and rectangular, built from pale stone stained gray by decades of smoke. Iron tracks disappeared beneath double doors leading deeper into the Crematorium, probably once used to move bodies toward furnaces. Brass plaques still hung along the walls, their inscriptions darkened beyond easy reading. The air smelled of ash, old incense, damp clothing, blood, and something sharply medicinal that someone had probably found in a storage cabinet and decided was close enough to disinfectant.

People occupied nearly every stretch of open floor.

Some sat shoulder-to-shoulder against walls with filthy blankets wrapped around them. Others lay on coats, sacks, or pieces of torn canvas because there were not enough cots. A woman knelt beside a wounded man and kept both hands pressed against his abdomen while somebody else wound strips of cloth around his middle with too much red already soaked through. There were several people who looked physically uninjured but sat staring ahead without moving, their faces emptied by exhaustion rather than calm.

Astrid’s eyes stayed there for a second then she moved on.

Near the entrances stood men and women wearing dark cloaks marked with an emblem of a broken crown wrapped in thorns. Most of them still had weapons in hand.

Astrid counted automatically. There were 23 still alive, and among them, six Blackthorn members could probably still fight. Maybe seven if the older woman by the furnace corridor could stand without using the wall.

Everyone else ranged somewhere between exhausted and useless in a real battle. That did not make them worthless, it only made them people who would die quickly if something forced its way through the Crematorium doors.

「 〔OBSERVER QUEST〕

Participants Engaged: 3

Primarch Elimination Condition remains active. 」

Her eyes stopped on the number. Caius and Misha probably had no choice but to stay behind after seeing Hiiro accept the quest.

Astrid’s gaze swept across the room once more, then she turned around. "I have to go back."

A hand caught her shoulder. "No."

Astrid looked over, and there before her, Alaric stood there, still breathing hard from the run. His brown hair had fallen across his forehead, and the usual effortless amusement on his face had vanished somewhere between the ruined streets and the Crematorium doors.

"Hiiro is still out there."

"I am painfully aware."

"So are Caius and Misha."

"Misha..." The name came quieter. He looked toward the sealed doors, then he repeated it once, more to himself than anyone else. "Misha."

She said nothing since she could see the pieces rearranging behind his expression. Whatever conclusion he reached, he kept it. He was cowardly, and incapable of treating his own dignity with respect but he was not stupid.

That name meant nothing to most of the room. Another man, however, had already started walking toward them.

Astrid recognized him immediately. Dorian Nidyg, leader of Blackthorn. They had crossed paths several days earlier while escaping a pack of Vestiges.

’Crossed paths’ was generous. They had survived in the same direction for long enough to exchange names.

Dorian was not physically imposing, that was probably why people underestimated him despite being the leader of a guild. He had a slim build and narrow shoulders beneath a dark coat that somehow still hung neatly despite everything Exodus had done to the people living inside it. His black hair was combed away from his forehead. Not perfectly, but enough to suggest he had taken the time. His eyes were brown and naturally narrow. When he smiled, they curved until they almost disappeared into crescents.

He smiled often, not constantly, no, since right now, he was not smiling. He approached without rushing and his gaze passed over Astrid first, then Alaric, then Carl, and finally, toward the closed doors behind them. "Where are Solmere and Shimura?"

Astrid met his eyes and apparently, that answered enough.

Dorian pressed his lips together into a thin line. "They stayed?

"Hiiro did," Astrid said. "Caius went back for him."

A faint crease appeared between Dorian’s brows upon hearing that answer.

Astrid was already turning toward the door when Alaric stepped directly into her path.

"No."

Her eyes lifted to his face. "They need me."

"They need considerably more than you if that creature outside is what I think it is."

She narrowed her eyes but the man remained unmoved.

For once, his mouth did not immediately produce something irritating to soften the refusal. Alaric was afraid, that part was normal, he treated fear like an old drinking companion. He complained about it, and dragged it along anyway. This was different though since he was not only afraid for himself.

"Move."

"No."

Dorian stopped beside them. "He’s right."

Alaric looked at him and for some reason, he looked faintly offended.

"You’re one of the strongest combatants in this building," Dorian continued before Astrid could respond, his voice remained calm, neither raised nor sharpened. "Leaving now weakens everyone who made it here."

Glancing over the room and seeing the wounded civilians, Astrid hesitated. There were people here who could not defend themselves. That was true. But it did not change who was still outside.

"Nobody asked you to come."

A short silence followed.

Dorian gave a small smile. He lifted one hand slightly toward the room around them. "And yet if you leave, we lose you anyway."

"We?" Her expression hardened.

His gaze moved briefly over the survivors before returning to her. "We have 23 people here. Several can’t defend themselves and some can barely walk. Running back into the streets because three people chose to engage with a Primarch does not become sensible because the intention is admirable."

It was the perfect respectable reasoning that’s why it was difficult for her to dismiss it.

The people outside had made their choices, and people inside remained. Resources were limited and strength should stay where it could protect the largest number. If she left, the people here would lose one capable fighter. If she went back, there was no guarantee she could change anything.

Astrid understood that... but understanding it did not mean she accepted it.

"Much as it pains me," Alaric said, "our new friend with the exceedingly reassuring voice has a point."

Dorian looked at him. "Dorian Nidyg"