A small figure suddenly stumbled out into the hall. She ran forward blindly, repeatedly knocking aside the Goathead Cultists blocking her path, and for a moment, cries of alarm rang throughout the inn.
Right behind the little girl, seven or eight Goathead Cultists came roaring after her. Her steps were simply too short, and one of them quickly overtook her in three strides, blocking her path. A vicious laugh came from beneath his hood.
"Damn little bitch, let's see where you can run now!"
Brando frowned slightly at the sight. He had already seen that the small figure beneath the black robe was merely a little girl. His gaze passed through the crowd, vaguely catching sight of someone sprawled motionless across a wooden table, with a dark-red stain spreading beneath them. He faintly understood what had happened.
"Hmm? That little girl really went all out." Delphine turned her head, clearly seeing the scene as well.
Brando remained silent and did not jump to conclusions. He only saw the little girl tremble slightly after being stopped, then look around. Her frail figure revealed a trace of helplessness. But that helplessness soon turned into resolve. She suddenly spun around and charged in another direction, then climbed onto a wooden table on all fours amid the surrounding crowd.
She turned around and shouted. Then she drew a short sword from beneath her black robe and gripped its hilt with both hands. Her knuckles faintly whitened from the excessive force. Her entire body trembled with fear, yet she resolutely pointed the sword's tip at all the Goathead Cultists surrounding her.
The sword tip flashed with cold light, making the Goathead Cultists stumble over one another. They hurriedly retreated, soon clearing a ring of space around the table.
Brando heard her clearly. The little girl's