Chapter 34: Gunfire

Chapter 34: Gunfire

The sun sank beyond the western hills, and night drew near.

As dusk slowly descended, pinpricks of light began to appear across Igwynt, ushering in the city’s nighttime bustle. But out in the outskirts, far from the main districts, darkness arrived right on schedule.

The sky was not yet completely black. Under the dim gloom blanketing the western outskirts of Igwynt, three horse-drawn carriages traveled in sequence along a rural road. The drivers urged their horses forward. The surroundings were utterly silent, broken only by the dense clatter of hooves and the rumble of wheels.

In the front and rear carriages each sat an adult man wearing a trench coat. One in front, one behind—both kept their eyes on the carriage in the middle. Inside that middle carriage, Dorothy sat quietly. By the light of the gas lamp inside the cabin, she held a thick book and read intently—at least on the surface.

‘As expected… this isn’t the road into the city… and we’re getting farther and farther away…’

Inside the carriage, Dorothy pretended to read, fully aware that she was in danger. But she also knew she couldn’t show it—doing so would only alert the enemy and make her lose the initiative.

‘One carriage ahead… one behind. They’ve been traveling together with this one from the start and never split off. They’re almost certainly accomplices. The fact they’re taking me this way means they don’t want to make a big scene…’

As she casually flipped the pages of the book in her hands, Dorothy analyzed the situation in her mind. Her expression showed no trace of disturbance. In the eyes of the drivers, she looked like someone completely unaware that she had already been kidnapped.

‘This method of targeting me… it’s probably the Crimson Eucharist. They haven’t given up on capturing me. And somehow they’ve gotten information about me coming to Igwynt—maybe even that I enrolled at Saint Amanda School—so they’ve launched another operation?’

‘Heh… if that’s true, their intelligence network is really something…’

With a cold sneer in her heart, Dorothy turned another page and continued reading by the lamplight.

‘At this rate, I’m probably being taken to one of their strongholds. I don’t know what their objective is, but I absolutely can’t let myself be taken there. I made a few preparations back at the school earlier, but there’s been no response so far. Looks like this time I’ll have to rely on myself…’

‘We can’t go any farther. If we run into their reinforcements, things will get even harder to deal with. I have to act now…’

‘Each of the front and rear carriages has a driver and a passenger, plus the driver on this carriage—that’s five people total. They’re probably all armed. Not easy to handle. I’ll have to strike first…’

As she thought this, Dorothy flipped to the next page.

What appeared was not dense text, but a revolver lying quietly in place.

The thick book she was holding had intact pages only at the beginning. All the pages afterward had been hollowed out in the middle, leaving only the edges, forming a paper compartment. Inside that compartment lay a handgun—the very revolver Dorothy had obtained from Edrick when she first crossed into this world.

Knowing she was being targeted by a cult, Dorothy had always kept crucial items on her person, even when going to school.

‘Taking a gun to class is pretty thrilling… but it just so happens I need it now.’

With that thought, Dorothy took out the revolver, gripping it tightly with both hands. Through the front glass of the carriage, she aimed upward and forward at the driver, who had his back to her as he drove.

Then, after taking a deep breath, she pulled the trigger.

Bang!

A sharp gunshot rang out. The bullet burst from the muzzle in a flash of flame, shattered the glass, and slammed straight into the back of the driver’s head, punching through his skull. At such close range, Dorothy easily achieved a clean headshot with a single bullet.

The violent gunshot not only startled the drivers of the two carriages ahead and behind, but also terrified the horses. The horse pulling Dorothy’s carriage instantly lost control. At that very moment, Dorothy immediately activated the Corpse Marionette Ring, turning the driver who was about to be thrown from the carriage into a corpse puppet.

Nourished by the spirituality of the “Chalice,” the driver—killed moments ago by a headshot—began to move again. With an expressionless face, he grabbed the handrail beside him and steadied himself on the driver’s seat, then pulled hard on the reins with one hand, trying to rein in the panicked horse. However, the effect was minimal.

‘Damn it… I don’t know how to drive a carriage…’

Hidden inside the carriage, Dorothy realized the problem at once. Although she could control a corpse puppet, anything she herself didn’t know how to do, the puppet wouldn’t know either—even if the man had been a driver in life.

Faced with this situation, Dorothy had a sudden flash of inspiration.

She controlled the driver at the front, had him draw the revolver from his waist, and aim it at the panicked horse ahead. At point-blank range, he fired three shots straight into the horse’s head.

With a mournful cry, the shot horse lost consciousness and began to collapse. At that exact instant, Dorothy activated the Corpse Marionette Ring again, injecting the dead horse with the spirituality of the “Chalice.” Under its influence, the horse’s entire body began moving again without any input from its brain. Its powerful hooves struck the ground, stabilizing its collapsing form, and then—following Dorothy’s command completely—it spun around and bolted back the way it came, brushing past the carriage behind it.

Since she couldn’t drive the carriage herself, Dorothy decided to simply turn the horse into a corpse puppet as well.

“What are you doing, Thomas?! What happened?!”

“Come back, Thomas! Where are you going?!”

Seeing their companion’s carriage suddenly turn around and flee in the opposite direction after the unexpected gunshots, the drivers of the other two carriages shouted loudly. When they received no response, they yanked on the reins and spurred their horses forward, chasing after the fleeing carriage.

Thus, with Dorothy controlling both the driver and horse of her carriage through the Corpse Marionette Ring, and two carriages in pursuit, a carriage chase through the dim suburban wilderness began.

Watching their companion’s carriage racing ahead, the roof hatches of the two pursuing carriages were thrown open. The two passengers inside stood up, drew pistols from their waists, and aimed at the fast-moving carriage ahead while shouting loudly.

“Stop, Thomas! If you don’t, we’ll open fire!”

Clearly, their warning went unanswered. Seeing it had no effect, the two men leaned out and pulled their triggers, firing shot after shot at the carriage ahead.

Because of the violent jolting of the carriages and the movement of the target, most of the bullets missed. Still, one round struck the carriage, tearing through the compartment—whistling past Dorothy’s ear by a hair’s breadth.

‘Shit… I can’t stay inside the carriage…’

Wrapping her hands in her sleeves, Dorothy grabbed the thick book she had been holding and smashed it hard against the front window of the carriage. The glass—already weakened by a bullet hole—shattered easily. Using her sleeve-wrapped hands, Dorothy climbed out through the front window and onto the driver’s seat, which was slightly safer than the enclosed carriage.

Then, controlling the driver named Thomas, she had him grip the revolver and crawl backward from the driver’s seat onto the roof of the carriage. One hand grabbed onto a raised decorative fixture to steady himself, while the other raised the gun and fired back at the pursuing carriages.

In an instant, gunshots echoed repeatedly along the dark road. The carriage chase had officially turned into a running gun battle.

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