The heavy iron doors at the end of the corridor shrieked as they were kicked open. "By the light! The Blackwood cur is here! Secure the Saintess!" The voices of the Holy Knights thundered, their polished armor clanking like a bag of silverware in a dryer.
Oh, great. The righteous zealots are early. Do they have any idea how much a customized mahogany casket costs? Because that's exactly where I'm headed if we don't move, Julian thought, his eyes darting toward the silver-haired woman.
"Lyra, darling, I'd love to lead the charge, but my legs have officially declared a general strike," Julian wheezed, his face pale. "Pick me up. Gently. If you rattle my ribcage, I might actually disintegrate."
Lyra stared at him, her purple eyes flickering with disbelief. "You want me to... carry you?"
"It's a tactical formation! From my elevated position on your back, I can provide high-level strategic oversight and... uh... avoid the floor," he countered. * As she hoisted him up, Julian's spine let out a series of pops that sounded like bubble wrap being trampled.
"FUCK! Watch the lumbar! That's vintage equipment!" he hissed into her ear.
If I die here, the hospital bill for my unclaimed body is going to be astronomical. I can't afford to be dead; it's too expensive, Julian thought, his mind racing through the gold coins he'd have to spend on potions just to stay upright.
"The exit is to the left, behind the third pillar!" Julian barked, pointing with a finger that was still slightly bruised from earlier. "My [Heavenly Mana Sensing] says there's a secret passage. Also, that Knight's cape looks like it's made of genuine Gryphon silk. We should definitely loot that later. That's worth at least fifty gold on the black market."
Lyra began to run, her speed blurring the world around them. Even with her mana suppressed by the remnants of her shackles, she moved like a gale. Julian, meanwhile, bounced rhythmically against her shoulder, each jolt making him see stars.
"Stop... talking... about... profit!" Lyra gritted out, ducking under a swinging mace that shattered the stone wall next to them.
"I can't help it! My soul is fueled by two things: spite and a healthy profit margin!" Julian yelled over the chaos. Actually, mostly profit. Do you know the tax rate on noble estates these days? It's criminal. I'm practically a charity case, he added internally.
They burst through the secret door just as a spear whistled past Julian's ear. "Elara! Start the carriage! And don't hit any potholes! My insurance doesn't cover 'total skeletal collapse'!"