"Nonsense, Flint. Don't you know that the right answer usually comes with a little trouble?"
Unperturbed, Armand unsheathed his own sword, an elegant longsword with ancient rune carving running down its blade, which shimmered in a mysterious light blue glow. Even Flint, who had seen it plenty of times, could not help but be mesmerised by its strange appearance.
The six men did not stand around and immediately raised their blades. However, just like before, none of their swords reached the two cloaked men.
"Damn!" The men cursed as they were forced to absorb the impact of the invisible shield or let go of their weapons. Weaving among them during this critical gap, Armand efficiently disarmed the rest of the attackers and incapacitated them with a quick pommel or backhand strikes. In no time, the six men were rolling around in pain or even passed out on the floor. Flint observed the scene with an indifferent and almost bored gaze, as if it were a normal occurrence.
Until that point, the children had been watching in a quiet, tense atmosphere. When they saw the adults had been defeated, their faces quickly turned to fear and uncertainty. The younger ones started to sob while the older ones gathered them and moved closer to the wall.
Realising that he had scared the children, Armand immediately sheathed his sword. He glanced at Niko, who cleared his throat. "Um.. these two brothers are here to meet Anya."
A silence fell on the children. Then an older boy, no more than 15 years of age, cautiously stepped forward, anger on his face. "Niko, why did you bring them here? Are you out of your mind?"
Niko shrunk. "I-I'm sorry, Darryl. They said they would take me to the Magistrate if I didn't! And he-he is a holy knight!" Pointing at Armand, Niko's eyes watered.
Darryl sighed and pinched his nose. He knew that sending Niko to the street was a bad idea; he was too young. He had even threatened him with stories about the Magistrate to ensure he was always careful. There had been no incidents up to that point due to Niko's nimble hands, so Darryl became lax. He eyed the adult men groaning on the ground, and seeing that they were alive, looked up to study Armand and Flint.
The two men were wearing a shabby-looking cloak that seemed to have withstood all kinds of weather. He had witnessed the taller one, Armand, using holy power in the fight just now, which, from what he heard, looked similar to arcane magic. The only difference was that he did not speak any incantation, and it had no colour. So Niko was likely telling the truth about the guy being a holy knight.
Unlike knights sworn to nobles and royalty, holy knights dedicated themselves to the God or Goddess they served and followed stringent rules that usually prevented them from causing unnecessary harm or injustice towards civilians.
Quickly calibrating his decision, he bowed his head. "Our uncles have troubled you, sirs. Is it true what Niko said, that you're just here to see Anya?"
"Yes."
"Then this way, good sirs."
Like an ocean parting in the middle, the children made way for Armand and Flint. Guided by the clever-looking older boy, they walked down the corridor at the back of the building and arrived at a red-painted door that was half-concealed behind a curtain. Darryl lifted the curtain to reveal a rather peculiar-looking door knocker made of brass in the shape of intertwining hands. After a moment of hesitation, he knocked on the door four times.
Contrary to Armand's thought that they would be forced to wait, the door flung open immediately after the fourth knock, almost making Darryl stumble forward. He quickly regained his balance and bowed his head towards the figure standing on the other side of the door - an extremely tall woman with a muscular body wrapped in leather gear, a black-hilted sword resting on her hip. Her piercing eyes landed on the two men.
Armand and Flint instantly recognised that she was of a different calibre from the six men they met earlier. Apart from her less-than-formal attire, she carried the sword aura that all master knights possessed. This put them on guard, although she did not seem to have any intention of initiating an attack.
"Greetings, Nimue, I-I have brought guests who are here to see Anya."
The woman called Nimue nodded, but did not speak. She briskly turned around and started walking away, almost as if expecting them to follow. Armand and Flint exchanged glances and stepped inside the other side of the door, followed by Darryl after a bit of hesitation.
The corridor was dark and completely devoid of any noise other than their footsteps echoing on the stone floor. A couple of dim wall lamps powered by magic stones hung on the wall, illuminating their path. The silence made Armand think of certain kinds of magical privacy shield, but he doubted that such high-calibre magic could be found in a slum of a backwater city.
"We're here." Nimue's voice was low. Unbeknownst to them, the space had suddenly opened up to a dark-panelled room with carpeted floor and a circular window with stained glass at the end. In front of an unlit fireplace, an old woman sat on a rocking chair, her hands expertly weaving threads into a beautiful crocheted piece.
She looked up at them as they entered and smiled.
"Welcome, Holy Knight Armand and Mercenary Flint."