With those words, the Liberi girl named Patia vanished from their sight. This time, neither Mostima nor Fiammetta moved to pursue her.
While it wouldn't have been difficult for them to capture her if they truly intended to, they saw this "old acquaintance" as just that—an old friend who, though strange, had simply come by to say hello in her own way. Her methods were odd, but it only suggested she had changed significantly over the years. Whatever she had gone through remained a mystery to them.
Though the encounter was peculiar, they didn't take it to heart and soon put the matter behind them. Having wandered into such a remote area, they found themselves without a specific destination, idling through the streets aimlessly.
On the other side, Patia let out a sigh of relief after putting some distance between herself and the duo. It wasn't that she feared them; even without a chance to truly test her skills against theirs, she had enough confidence to retreat safely. Her real concern was that if they had pursued her, she would have been forced to fight to escape. Had that happened, even a successful retreat would have caused a major scene—something that might have compromised her companions.
As a former member of the Garrison, she understood Laterano's security systems all too well, especially with a massive festival on the horizon. At a time like this, it wouldn't be strange at all for Apostolic Knights to descend upon them if trouble broke out.
"What happened? Were you spotted by those two? I told you before not to get too close to them."
One of her companions spoke softly as they saw the hurried Patia return. There was no blame in the tone, only a sense of helplessness. Perhaps they were simply worried about her impulsive streak.
Patia's expression remained neutral, but her voice softened as she began to explain. "Sorry. I just wanted to confirm the situation for everyone. Besides, I have certain... advantages when dealing with them."
The person across from her nodded. Patia had a point; even if spotted, she was better equipped to handle the fallout than the rest of them. If anyone else had been tailing them, the duo might have followed them all the way back to their hideout. As it stood, they weren't ready to be exposed to Laterano's eyes. The fewer people who knew of their existence, the better.
"Enough. We can talk about this back at the base. For now, we need to evacuate! It'll be bad if they get curious and follow us."
Curiously, everyone speaking to Patia was wrapped in thick, heavy robes, covering themselves from head to toe. Even though it was winter, Laterano's climate was famously mild—often described as "eternal spring." Most people on the street were wearing nothing more than light winter coats.
By contrast, these individuals looked like they would have covered their eyes too if they didn't need them to see the road.
"You guys look way too suspicious!" Patia remarked. She was the only one dressed differently, wearing simple winter clothes. "Can't you change into something more normal? Look at how many people are staring at you!"
Just as she said, their unique attire had drawn the curiosity of several nearby Sankta. People were whispering, wondering if they were some kind of special interest group or a "Bizarre Fashion Club."
"But this is safer! Do you think our true appearances are suited for public places? Spread out, everyone! Move in separate directions!"
Seeing the crowd gathering, the leader quickly ordered the group to disperse to avoid attracting the Apostolic Knights. Fortunately, the locals were mostly just curious about the fashion. Once the group split up, interest faded. To the Sankta, these strange outfits were probably just the customs of some distant race. Since the robed figures lacked halos, they were clearly not Sankta.
"Who do you think they are, dressing like that in this weather?"
"Maybe Ursus? I heard it's freezing there, so they probably have to dress that thick."
The Sankta didn't hide their curiosity; a few even approached them to ask where they could buy such robes, wanting to try the look for themselves.
"A truly carefree bunch," Patia muttered, curling her lip as she watched the onlookers.
Deep down, she disliked the current Laterano and the incredibly leisurely lifestyle of these Sankta. More accurately, she chose not to understand this race. Her resentment toward Laterano stemmed from those of her own kind who desperately sought the recognition of these people.
"Are those people fresh from Ursus? Don't they feel hot in those thick robes?"
Jeanne and little Lemuen, passing by the same area, were also curious about the group's attire. Jeanne wondered if they were members of the Ursus Church. Even in Ursus, Laterano's faith was practiced, though its followers were often marginalized.
The robed figures, meanwhile, were puzzled by the increasing density of the crowd. This path hadn't been this busy the last time they were in the city. They didn't realize that this area was being prepared as a festival venue, with vendors currently setting up their stalls. Many Sankta had come early to scout for new and interesting wares. Following tradition, there would be local stalls as well as exotic goods from foreign lands.
The robed group were interlopers who had just snuck into the city today; they lacked this local knowledge. Even Patia's tracking of Mostima had been a spur-of-the-moment decision once she spotted them, driven by the need to confirm she wasn't seeing things. She knew Mostima was linked to them in countless ways, and her presence was vital information.
"Has the Guide entered the city yet?"
Late that night, Patia asked her companions inside a room at the Requiem Church. She was anxious, worried that he might have encountered danger.
"It will take a bit longer. Laterano's city security was suddenly upgraded today. There are Apostolic Knights patrolling everywhere, making it difficult to slip in," the liaison explained after making contact with the other side.
Hearing the reason, the group's anxiety lessened. It was understandable; their Guide was a Sankta. Because of the "Empathy" shared between Sankta and the Apostolic Knights, sneaking in was significantly harder for him.
One of the more impulsive members suggested, "Should we cause a distraction? Maybe blow up a couple of walls down the street to draw them away?"
The suggestion was immediately shot down by nearly everyone. It was a level of stupidity that made some of them want to punch the man.
"I appreciate your concern for my safety, but don't ever make a suggestion like that again. Stirring up trouble under the eyes of the Apostolic Knights is a very dangerous game."
A gentle voice came from the doorway. A male Sankta with grey-blue hair walked in, his tone mild as he reasoned with the impulsive member.
"Guide!"
The group stood up in excitement.
If Fiammetta had been here, she would have recognized him instantly. He was her former captain, the man responsible for the tragedies that befell Lemuen and Mostima—Andoain!