Gunmage
Chapter 306: The night stirs twice

Chapter 306: Chapter 306: The night stirs twice

Deep in the Von Heim manor, Lugh’s clone, transformed into the figure of Sela, suddenly stirred.

It slipped quietly out from the young lady’s room, just in time to encounter the figure of Mirelle—another clone, equally disguised.

Without a word, the two exited through the window once again, landing silently on the grass below.

However, unlike before, they didn’t rely on precise wind spells to soften their descent.

This time, it was done purely through sheer physical finesse—astonishing balance paired with the beastkin’s superior strength and endurance.

In the surrounding darkness, nestled between the shrubbery, trees, and manor shadows, Isolde’s team of shadows were already in position.

One of them whispered under their breath, voice barely above the breeze.

"See? I told you this would happen. These girls are damn crafty—pretending to give up just to try again a few hours later."

Another scoffed in response.

"Guess the captain was right all along. Damn! Now I’ve gotta pay that scrub."

"Who are you calling a scrub?!"

Their hushed banter remained clearly audible to their leader. Normally, idle chatter would be strictly forbidden during an assignment—but considering how long they’d been stationed here, she chose to turn a blind eye.

It was only natural for them to get a little disgruntled. She wasn’t going to take away this tiny sliver of joy.

But then something changed. Something subtle that forced every one of them to straighten up instinctively.

The two figures—’Mirelle’ and ’Sela’—had turned in their direction.

And were walking toward them.

"What... are they doing?"

Though the shadows hadn’t gone out of their way to fully conceal their presence—more of a subtle but constant reminder to the young ladies that they were always being watched—they still operated under proper concealment techniques.

For the girls to be able to pinpoint their precise locations, with that level of accuracy... was nothing short of impressive.

But that wasn’t what puzzled them the most.

Why, exactly, were they approaching?

When the girls drew within only a few meters, they spoke—at the same time.

"Come out. I know you’re there."

There was a beat of silence. Then, from beneath bushes, behind trees, and out of darkened alcoves, human figures stepped forward.

A number of them wore standard maid uniforms—though cut shorter and neater, modified for agile movement. They bowed in unison.

"Milady."

Sela—or rather, Lugh, who was currently controlling the puppet disguised as her—cleared his throat and addressed them.

"Your ’ladies’ are already in the central district. Right now, they’re so drunk they probably don’t even remember their names. It’d be best if you arranged a carriage to fetch us up?"

Everyone present blinked, visibly thrown off.

"Excuse me?"

Lugh clicked his tongue. He hadn’t wanted to reveal his tricks so openly, but in this situation, he didn’t have the luxury of secrecy.

Thinking about it, with the Selection coming up in a few days, the truth of his magic would inevitably come to light. It was only a matter of time.

So, after a moment’s pause, he made up his mind.

Under the stunned gazes of the gathered people who bore the title of ’shadows,’ the two young ladies before them began to change.

Their bones shifted with a chorus of pops, faces contorting, bodies shrinking slightly—and soon, standing before them were two identical figures.

Two Lughs.

The expressions on the surrounding watchers twisted into slack-jawed disbelief.

Finally, Lugh spoke.

"Do you understand now?"

It took a moment for the shock to wear off.

Then—

"Dear gods,"

The squad leader breathed.

In that instant, the full implications of what she had just seen, and heard, crashed into her. A wave of panic flared up in her chest as she immediately bellowed out orders.

"Ready the carriages! Move!"

Her team scattered in all directions, each moving with trained speed and focus.

Only a few remained behind, standing by her side. She glanced at the two Lughs—

"And you!"

—Only to realize, that no words came to her.

Lugh exhaled softly, he gave them detailed descriptions of where they should go, before adding

"The two of me won’t be coming with you. But you’ll meet my original body when you arrive."

"Original body...?"

The words echoed in their heads, overlapping with what little information they had about the boy’s known magic.

Wasn’t he only supposed to have one clone?

But there was no time for further questions. Both Lughs had already begun to walk away, their steps casual.

Then one of them paused, as if recalling something. He turned his head slightly and added—

"Oh. And don’t forget to bring some clothes."

"Huh?!"

The woman completely lost her composure.

Lugh responded flatly.

"Coats. Big, warm ones. The weather’s cold."

Then he left.

...

Back in the city, three figures loitered by the water channel. Lugh sat calmly, while his two sisters lay sprawled beside him in undignified heaps.

Mirelle looked like a discarded corpse. Sela was muttering incomprehensible nonsense, breaking into random fits of giggles.

Seriously?

Was this... drunkenness?

They looked more like lunatics.

He let out a dry, tired sigh. Who knew when their escort would arrive? For now, he remained vigilant.

—

Late at night, in the cold silence of the slums, Victor slowly stirred awake.

His head pounded, his vision blurred and useless. A groggy fog settled over his thoughts, and the now-familiar stench burned through his nostrils.

Damn.

How had he fallen for such a simple trick?

In hindsight, it was obvious. He had been too eager to escape the smell of the room that he hadn’t stopped to properly think.

If not, he would have noticed that one of the men he’d seen earlier at the card table had suddenly gone missing.

That one... was probably the one who hit him.

Even now, a searing migraine clawed through his skull. He was struck hard. Victor began to circulate his mana, and the injury was sluggishly beginning to mend itself.

His vision cleared.

He was tied to a chair, thick cords binding him tightly. He tested them. They were strong. Too strong to break through immediately. He’d need time.

Then, a voice travelled to his ear.

"Wake up, you fat fuck."

It was only now Victor realized—he was wet. And cold. Horribly cold.

The sensations all returned at once—pain, nausea, clarity. He trembled.

That same voice came again. And he recognized it instantly—it was the man who had first shown him around this place.

"Hello again. Allow me to reintroduce myself."