"Curse them! Curse them all!"
Having barely broken away from the skirmish, Mandragora paced through the sanctuary, screaming in absolute rage. The stinging embarrassment of failing so publicly, coupled with her total inability to breach the stranger's defenses, tore at her pride like raw iron.
"So... it seems the stranger truly is a Draco after all," Harmonie observed softly. She sat across the table, taking an unhurried sip of tea.
Everything had unfolded precisely according to her calculations. Seeing Mandragora make a complete fool of herself gave Harmonie a distinct sense of victory.
"You knew all along, didn't you?" Mandragora snapped, her head whipping around as real realization finally set in. "You set me up!"
Her eyes blazed with fury as she glared at the green-haired Feline. If Harmonie dared to admit it, Mandragora would unleash her Earth Arts right here and bury her beneath a mountain of stone!
"I did," Harmonie admitted smoothly. Despite the wild, unstable pressure rising in the room, her pleasant smile didn't waver in the slightest.
CRACK!
A second later, the stone floor buckled. Jagged rock spires and heavy masonry detached from the walls, hovering mid-air before shooting straight toward Harmonie with lethal velocity.
Yet Harmonie didn't even drop her teacup. She met Mandragora's manic glare with cool indifference, taking another slow sip as if the oncoming shower of stone were nothing more than a passing breeze.
"Are you attempting to execute me?" Harmonie murmured softly. "Have you forgotten our leader's explicit command? No fighting among senior officers within Dublinn."
The words carried an invisible, binding weight. The floating boulders halted inches from Harmonie's face, suspended motionless in mid-air. Not a single grain of dirt tumbled into her tea.
"Are you... using our leader's authority to threaten me?!" Mandragora growled, her face contorting with bitter resentment. She wanted nothing more than to crush the woman into paste, yet she dared not cross their leader's decree.
"If you need to vent your frustration, go find a few recruits who broke protocol," Harmonie suggested casually. "There are plenty of fools who deserve discipline. Handing out a harsh punishment or two won't raise any concerns."
"Answer me! Are you threatening me with our leader's name?!" Mandragora roared, her voice echoing off the brick walls. She stood on the razor edge of losing control completely.
Seeing her on the brink of madness, Harmonie's eyes flickered with quiet amusement. Still, she knew when to step back—if she pushed the brute into total insanity, she would lose a remarkably useful pawn.
"I am not threatening you, Mandragora. I am offering a friendly reminder," Harmonie said, softening her tone into a gentle, persuasive purr. "If I am injured and unable to oversee our next moves, I will certainly face discipline—but your standing with our leader will drop far lower than mine."
The words struck Mandragora right where it hurt most. Her jaw clenched tight, and with a heavy wave of her hand, the floating boulders drifted back down, settling quietly into the corners of the room.
"Besides, though you suffered a minor setback, you returned with invaluable intelligence," Harmonie added, laying down the final piece of praise. "Looking at the bigger picture, you accomplished your mission."
That single sentence made Mandragora's heart leap with triumph. In an instant, visions of her leader bestowing grand praise filled her mind. The humiliation of being set up vanished, replaced by an unsettling, ecstatic grin as she sat in silence, lost in her own delusions.
In a secluded room further down the hallway, the white-robed Draco stared absently at the small flame flickering over her fingertips.
Her living conditions here were comfortable enough, yet she was treated as little more than a trophy—a figurehead pulled out when needed, then discarded in a quiet corner to rust when the display was over.
I hope those two understood my warning, she thought silently, watching the spark fade into smoke. And I hope they see through the madness brewing beneath this city.
Meanwhile, out on the bustling thoroughfares, Jeanne suddenly paused in her tracks. Her eyes widened as if a missing piece of a puzzle had fallen directly into place.
Leaning in close to Talulah, she began whispering frantically, "I think I finally figured out what Dublinn is setting up!"
"Speak normally!" Talulah snapped, shoving Jeanne away by the shoulder. "Stepping close and whispering directly into my ear tickles like mad—don't do that!"
Being ticklish around her ears was a minor, inconvenient trait that the formidable Draco couldn't suppress, no matter how hard she tried.
"Sorry, sorry! I completely forgot your ears are as sensitive as your tail," Jeanne offered an apology, though the mischievous grin on her face suggested she had done it on purpose just to see Talulah lose her composure.
Talulah glared at her, silently calculating how many extra pounds of advanced mathematics homework she would assign Jeanne once they returned to base.
"What do you mean, you figured it out?" Talulah asked, forcing her tone back to a steady, serious level.
"I think their whole presence here is built around waiting for that explosion!" Jeanne declared.
It took Talulah a moment to process the statement, digesting the implications before asking, "What makes you draw that conclusion?"
"Think about it," Jeanne explained, gesturing down the avenue. "They were confident enough to send a squad to corner us in broad daylight, and when they retreated, they weren't scrambling in terror. They fell back to their hideouts like they were completely safe. That means their roots in this city run deep. Half the Taran district is already under their sway, so they don't care if their presence leaks out—they believe they hold total control over this sector."
Talulah pondered the logic, finding it surprisingly sound. Just as she opened her mouth to prompt Jeanne for more details, a curious group approached them from down the block.
"There you are! We were wondering where you two wandered off to," a voice called out.
It was Jane, walking side-by-side with Bagpipe and her squad leader, Horn.
It was an odd sight—the three of them making an unlikely trio, given their vastly different backgrounds.
"We were on our way back to Rhodes Island when we bumped into Janie," Bagpipe explained cheerfully. "So we figured we'd all walk together, like!"
Horn had removed her heavy combat gear, her expression far more relaxed than before, though her sharp soldier's eyes remained attentive.
Neither Jeanne nor Talulah had realized they were casually walking toward the local Rhodes Island branch until Bagpipe pointed it out.
Silence settled over the group for a brief moment before Horn cleared her throat. "We should find a quiet spot to talk. Do you eat chips? I know a small spot nearby that serves decent fried scale-beast and chips."
Hearing a stern, straight-laced Victorian officer suggest grabbing a basket of fried chips brought a wave of confusion to both Jeanne and Talulah. They stared at Horn's stoic face, trying to discern if the noble soldier was making a dry joke.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting in a quiet back room around a large platter of golden chips and fried scale-beast.
"So... we really came out just to eat chips?" Talulah murmured, staring at the mountain of food with mild bewilderment.
"This establishment is run by our trusted contacts, so speaking here is secure," Horn explained calmly, dipping a chip into sauce. "Besides, sharing a meal keeps us from looking suspicious to any onlookers."
Once Horn finished outlining her findings within the local garrison, Jeanne leaned forward, clearing her throat to share her own hypothesis.
"I have a strong suspicion about your military camp," Jeanne stated bluntly. "There's a high-level Dublinn mole planted deep inside your local garrison—someone with enough authority to command the entire base."