Soul Digger-Chapter 48 - 48: Grasping for kindness

Earlier that night:
"The people of Sant Flores are beginning to see Cole in a deluded light," the Mayor grumbled in a low, worried tone.
He and the Area Chief sat beneath the veil of glittering stars, drinking a few bottles of fine wine as they pondered on their next steps.
Cole's arrival had been both a blessing and a curse.
"Since his arrival, there's been an increase in s of missing people." The Area Chief chugged down a glass of wine as he complained.
"There's also the rise in his so-called 'believers.' Though small for now, they could turn into a blazing flame and burn our city to its very foundation," the Mayor added, his face wrinkled from stress.
"Is there a way to curb this problem, Mayor?"
"I doubt it. All we can do is spark conflict between the remaining members of the Guiding Tree Cult and the growing Cole Cult."
"Won't that lead to a severe loss, sir?"
"It pains me to admit it, but you're right." He sipped another glass, pressing his lips together to savor the alcohol's taste. "Even still... no loss is too great for the future."
"A couple of lives may be lost, but our people will eventually benefit greatly." A grim expression was painted on his face by the dark atmosphere.
"I'm not surprised you believe in this, though I thought you always saw your position as a burden, Mayor, sir."
"Burden or not, that's my logic." He took a large gulp and sighed; the strong inebriant burned his throat in a pleasant manner.
"Where is the Red Cap General?" the Mayor asked with a draggy, breaking voice.
"He's leading an investigation. Supposedly, the unit is hot on the tracks of the kidnapper."
"Is it an Indulger?"
"From the looks of it, possibly."
....
The howling winds rushed through where they sat, three bottles of wine empty, and only trouble merged with the air. Things had begun heading south for Sant Flores and its authorities.
Fortunately, the somber sky faded, making way for thin, visible white clouds as bright orange rays pierced from beneath the mountains, illuminating the city.
Unlike Leon, Sant Flores' Set protected the city from the sandy desert outside; the passage of time was in sync with nature.
The Mayor pressed his eyes shut, the bright glimmer a reminder of his pending duties. The Area Chief was slightly more relaxed; his assistants manned the helm for the time being.
Both men got up from their comfort, shook hands, and exchanged parting greetings. Unlike the Mayor, the Area Chief had plans of drinking under the daylight.
With a mischievous smile, he watched the Mayor go into the distance, an excited gleam present in his eyes. At the side of a wooden crate, he pulled out a bottle of expensive vodka and grinned like a rabid dog.
His excitement was cut short by a repetitive buzzing at the side of his pocket. The Area Chief had the intent of ignoring it but answered due to a thin string of curiosity. After all, his assistant was gutsy enough to disturb him despite strict orders.
Much to his dismay, Borins grounds were solid. He felt the previous alcohol build up at his throat; the gas stung his neck as the Area Chief choked, nearly throwing up his insides. The feeling of disgust turned his stomach as Borin narrated everything through the phone.
The same went for Sandra, who stayed beside Gothel throughout the night. A discernible rage spread across her body as she clenched the bed's iron railing until it creaked, scowling like a starved beast.
Gothel didn't hear the conversation over the phone yet felt Sandra's palpable anger leaking through her very flesh. Sandra shot up from the foam bed with vicious movements, storming off without a parting gesture or word.
Sandra's reprehensible actions made a feeling of angst penetrate Gothel's body. She staggered to stand, her balance unstable for a moment as she watched Sandra leave.
Unknown to Sandra, Gothel tailed her quietly from behind.
Initially, Launda was to be taken to the Sant Flores detainment center, but by a flood of bad luck, the plan was changed. Instead, she was strapped by ropes weaved across her body—an unnecessary measure considering she was paralyzed.
Her eyes darted to every corner, searching for a means of escape as she ushered loud cries in her mind. 'Help me,' she recited in a dreaded roar. Forsaken by her body and colleagues, all hope dispersed from her eyes.
Eventually, she was carried to the Homes District for all to see. Borin strode towards her, stooped, and whispered in an eerie voice, "Count your remaining minutes."
"The notorious kidnapper has been caught!"
The people cheered! Neither of them questioned nor confirmed how authentic the information was. Simply hearing those words painted their faces with enraged eyes, menacing scowls, tightened jaws, and large frowns.
Launda couldn't speak; the only evidence of her despair were small lines of tears leaking from her eyes, almost invisible on her face.
Curses were poured on her as well. Made a laughingstock by people far weaker than her, unable to respond, she remained frozen stiff on the floor like a dead fish. Within her, a sea of rage, animosity, and pain formed like a cyclone.
Sandra walked through the crowd. The citizens parted like the Red Sea as she passed, making way for her composed, graceful figure to deliver the final judgment. She was in charge of welfare, after all.
The Mayor and Area Chief stood atop the building, spectating like the rest of the crowd.
Sandra's pure white traditional gown held a more sinister presence than a comforting one. She stopped by Launda's side, staring at her with dead, hollow eyes—a terrifying expression that sent chills through her very bones.
"What is the people's decision?" Her voice rang with severe rigor.
Disjointed as their words may have been, the people came to one coordinated decision...
...Her death.
Amongst the crowd, the assassin Cole encountered waited patiently like a hunter fixed on its prey. Two short daggers hung out of his sleeves, barely noticed by the angered crowd or the Red Caps within them.
Sandra brought out a golden hatchet; diamonds of different colors embellished its handle. "Very well. She will be used as an example for any Indulger who dares intrude on our land."
"The courage instilled in them by the old woman must be weeded out here and now!"
BANG!
Swinging the hatchet with tenacious force, the collision recoiled—or more accurately, deflected—like a wooden plank against iron. Launda's neck was tougher than the axe could slice through, despite being made of pure gold.
Sandra grit her teeth with parted lips, her hands vibrating from the aftermath. The sacrificial hatchet she held was the strongest weapon in Sant Flores; if it didn't penetrate, almost nothing would.
The Red Caps pulled out their arms, awaiting the command to fire.
"Don't waste your weapon." Gothel's voice echoed through the walls and floors.
Her footsteps drowned out the very air; the citizens' breaths hitched, and their movements ceased. The assassin shot back, his survival instinct in high gear as he stood bound in place.
Gothel took steady steps towards the Homes Center. Her balance was waning along with her vision, yet she held herself together. Passing Sandra without a sound, she knelt by Launda and released her bindings.
Suddenly, her limbs tensed, her fingers twitching as her lips shook. It seemed her body was reverting to full mobility.
Gothel, despite being shaky herself, aided Launda to her feet. "Go away and never come back. I'll overlook this once," she uttered in a low, caring voice.
Struck by disbelief, Launda widened her eyes as she pushed back. Gothel wore a sincere, kind expression with an honest smile.
'She's an angel!' Launda forced herself up.
Her stamina was far from sufficient. Barely withstanding her own weight, Launda swung her body as though intoxicated. Each step heavier than the last, struggling to raise her feet off the ground, her movements grew slower.
In that pitiful instant, Gothel wrapped her thumb over her index finger and flicked the air behind Launda's head.
From a small gush of spiraling breeze to something quicker than the blink of an eye, Launda's head was left with a small peephole in her forehead as a farewell gift.
Her body careened at a sharp angle before turning to catch one final glimpse of Gothel. As she laid a failing gaze on Gothel's innocent features, her eyes sunk into their sockets, and she slammed against the floor like a bounced ball.
'Damn you! Demon!' Her thoughts went hush as everything faded into a dark haze.
The people were unfazed, including Sandra and the authorities watching from above. The assassin was gaping for air at the sight; what truly frightened him was the people's nonchalant reaction.
Gothel brushed through the crowd with her eyes, then gazed up at the towering building.
"Where is my brother?" She wondered.