The thought of making a disaster

Chapter 13: The power of the storm.

Having noticed the stagger of the assassin as he ran, Jãìßrå knew that his magic had already taken it's toll on his body.

Keeping up her pace steady, she consistently kept the assassin moving, hoping to tire him out with endless pursuit before he could try to take off and fly away.

It wasn't a purely solid plan. He could still be hiding something up his sleeve, as most assassins kept one handy.

No matter how many times the assassin ran through crowds and alleyways, even getting cornered by guards and needing to change direction every few corners. He would never manage to shake Jãìßrå off.

They were slowly getting to the higher levels of the economy. As they were now in Noble territory.

There were less crowds here and less corners. There was no easy way that the assassin could be rid of Jãìßrå.

Meanwhile...

Gärehn was still recovering. He was still light headed, still full of cuts, and still shirtless.

As he rubbed ointment on one of his many cuts in his stomach region, a familiar voice called to him.

'Uncle Rain? Is that you?'

As Gärehn turned around, he made sure to wear his shirt. Even if it stung to put on.

There, waiting at his feet, was Jéämah. His unofficial niece.

'Ah, hello young one. How's your mother?' he asked, in the most casual manner he could pull off.

'She hasn't visited yet.' Jéämah responded.

'oh... that's.... a shame.'

Gärehn was trying to ignore his injuries, but the lack of conflict only caused the stinging sensation to become his sole focus.

'Why were the guards here, and why did the ground become tall?' Jéämah began asking.

'I do not know why the guards were here. But I do know why the ground became tall.'

'Why?'

'i think your mother would be able to explain it to you better than I could.'

'Why?'

'Because she knows more than me.'

'Why?'

'Because, she has a very big brain, so she has big smarts. While I have a small brain, so I have small smarts. No, not even smarts, smart. I only have one smart, and your mother has many.'

'Wow! How many?!'

'She has at least 3.'

'Wow!'

'I know...'

Back to Jãìßrå, she was slowly harvesting the results of her craft.

The assassin was slowly losing distance from her.

The assassin felt like he wasn't even running forwards anymore. Like every step he took was going backwards instead of forwards.

All attempts to escape his pursuer were futile, it seems.

He had used every tactic he had known. But she still caught up.

Even after moving through multiple crowds and alleyways. All the way to the high end area of the city.

Jãìßrå was enjoying the chase, unlike the usual assassin, her target was actually able to run away.

It provided a chance to think of how much her target was worth. And now, he was becoming tired enough to become what the Gēuïld called a 'Prime target'