Chapter 437: Chapter 437 - Making A Plan And Stopping One
"We need to gather the others and check if any of them escaped. Talking about what my wife is up to can be handled later."
With the authority of someone accustomed to post-battle cleanup, Qatrand dragged the bound cultivator back through the nursery doorway and settled him against the hallway wall. She began to develop a plan of action that would minimize.
"I can help with that. I counted at least six when I did my initial sweep, but there could be more further out from the estate as watchers. Give me a moment."
As Sevra slid off of the chair and onto the floor in a cross-legged position, she was already entering her Walk state again. It still wasn’t as quick or snappy as when she used that extremely nice ritual that the heiress had designed for her, but like almost all of her abilities - coming out of that place had left its activation and rate of strain much improved.
Catching a feeling through one of her own searching tendrils, the blonde nodded and moved to the unconscious nursemaid. Placing her hand gently on the woman’s shoulder and focusing her intent, she felt the moment the ritual’s Avatar linked to her spirit responded. Gradually releasing the mortal from the illusion.
The woman’s eyes fluttered open, ’confusion’ and some sort of ’fear’ warring in them as she gazed between who was there in the room. Her two employers and the young master Qatrand next to her... as well as someone unknown sitting on the floor. With the concern everyone but the last cloaked stranger showed, for a moment she expected that something terrible had happened to the child!
"You’re safe. Everything will be fine. Just stay calm and help Dame Yatrel with Onya if needed."
Hearing the name of her charge spoken of like that, and catching a glimpse of the hair color in the crib as she took a step forward, almost made her faint with relief. But Qat had no time or strong inclination to deal with her emotions... turning to her father-in-law she got further down to business - delegation.
"Ondua, I need you to help me decide who to bring out of this next. In what order. Especially for the other heroes - some of them might not react well to being released after they were caught in an Illusion technique, even if we... lie and claim it was a family artifact."
That had been her beloved’s half-baked suggestion of an excuse if the ritual were ever enabled, but she was not sure she could pull off such a misdirection nearly so well. Not with this many eyes on the matter and in such a situation that would likely invite the Void Defense Society to make themselves at home once again on the estate for investigations.
Moreover... using that would have required damaging the Ogre Doll, which is where a fake cultivator tool had been planted in the first place. That may have well been fine in a situation where Elua could fix it up quickly, but with her being gone for four years?
’Onya herself may not think much, at her age, of someone else repairing the stitching on the leather. As long as it looks and feels right, she would never know. But I’m afraid I will have to be childish about it for her.’
The brunette man had been holding his chin in thought, but finally nodded grimly. He knew immediately that the claim was right, as even though the place they were trapped had been fairly calming... he too had been a bit disoriented when returned to reality.
"The Talcres first, and the teenagers with them. Young Nohre and Fusand are adaptable and Meyran and Zyris are naturally calm and can be reasoned with. Then Lirades and Navuill. They know you well enough to have confidence in your judgment on the matter."
"All of them can also be trusted with at least a bit more truth than fiction."
Yatrel mumbled while her eyes ticked toward something on the ground.
"I could also use the old woman’s advice for the order on the other heroes... as I think it would be wise to have all of them positioned well around the Frozen Duskblade. I could tell a few of them were still strongly in combat mindsets, but none more than her."
"She was who I was worried most about, yes. Can you also suggest the best room to secure these attackers in? It would be good to have them all collected as proof."
’Also a good idea to pull them out of it once bound. From what I understand, they may *already* be too rattled from the experience to answer any questions for days...’
"I’ll work on bringing the far ones back. Found three at the perimeter. The range on this ritual is terrifying..."
The scout stood to her feet and began moving toward the window. Qat couldn’t help but note the way she hopped up and touched the high part of the frame, before contorting herself in a way that pulled and launched herself feet first toward the rooftop. It had not been a ’grip’ so much as it had been... the Adhesion technique used surprisingly masterfully for acrobatics.
She had definitely been assured that the method had seemingly been lost. Having had her own benefits from learning from her El, the swordswoman didn’t *want* to be jealous. But she was, just a little. Especially since she was finally a Primalist in essence and could start doing self-training.
’But she learned in person...’
As everyone moved along their way, Yatrel continued staring at the items that had been removed from the man who had been in her child’s room. A sheathed dagger, in particular, that she just could not stop staring at and thinking about.
Bending down... she slid it free and deadly intent spilled through the room. Not from the tool, but from the one whose fingers were touching the dark-coated blade that could be nothing less than illegal Negavigor. She could feel her energy being repelled from her fingertips.
"Oh."
The nursemaid pressed herself back against the wall, sensing the violence about to unfold even if she didn’t exactly understand the weapon’s significance. For there was no light in the eyes of her mistress. Yatrel er Goltbred tightened her hand on the hilt and stood.
With calm steps, the duelist stood over the bound and still occasionally twitching remnant of the corrupt side of the Saltfire. Looking down at the man who had dared to enter her child’s room with a blade meant to kill cultivators. It did not even bear reasoning that her daughter was too young to have started the path - and that any given weapon could have done the job.
"If you wanted to make some kind of point, I think I can do that as well."
The words came out without much emotion, but Qatrand had rushed back and could feel the pulsating core of ’bloodlust’ as it radiated from the normally composed woman standing over the man in the hallway. It singed her tendrils of spirit like too much heat from a campfire.
A fury the likes of which she had only come *anywhere* close to feeling once - when defeating the leader-class Voidling at the Gravity Trap. An anger that would not permit loss and would punish those attempting to take from you with force overwhelming. But this was not the middle of a fight or duel.
And both of them knew that. So when a calloused hand gripped on the back of the pommel of the blade, all too close to sinking into a non-critical organ that would nonetheless cause the man excruciating pain to recover from... the blonde did not really known what to say. Nor did the one robbed of her vengeful momentum.
For many seconds, neither of them moved. But that did not mean there was no struggle. The reddish-blonde who could show such maternal warmth and care never released the tension in her muscles... though she did not increase it to try and get past the effort to stop her.
Qat knew that if she used more or less force, the situation would change one way or another. But beyond the simple fact of finding what she would have done distasteful, it was hard to articulate why she felt not ’allowing’ it - even if it possibly shouldn’t be up to the swordswoman - was the better way of things.
Ultimately, it was those trance-state eyes finally ticking over and meeting the conflicted pigeon blues that resolved matters. The older cultivator finally blinked, shut her eyes longer, and sighed while realizing that she’d just about earned her bloody reputation once again.
Gradually releasing her strength and hold on the weapon and allowing her daughter-in-law to take possession of it, Yatrel somehow kept herself from stomping on the man as she stood up. For she had been calmed, but not tamed, by the determined look of her eldest’s spouse.
"It’s times like this, when such a sweet young woman as you are is forced to deal with my *excessive* nature on equal terms... that I feel like I make a terrible substitute as your mother. Or even as a role model."
"They were in your child’s room. Yet, you were only going to stab them here. You are a better example for me and El than you believe... as I am not as confident that I would have been so merciful in that much of a rage."
"You would have, dear. Now, you should drag him away with you this time. I would not trust me to restrain more urges... and there is a nice open window right there to throw him from."
Strolling back into the nursery while speaking and closing the door softly, it was almost like none of it had ever happened. But the bloody spot on the point of the blade along with what soaked the home invader’s pierced clothes served as proof of just how gruesome things could have become.