Chapter 10 is up, today. As far as I can tell now, the story is coming to an end. Perhaps it will take around three more chapters and an epilogue before this can be concluded. In any case, Legends and Lore is till close as of today, and I shall post everything here before any new movement on AEF's behalf can be readily seen.

So, for now, please enjoy and R&R!

Chapter 10

Artix von Krieger's Deal

The Paladin Order of Lore, earlier that day.

Artix von Krieger, the famed Lord Paladin of the Order, was now sitting in his private quarters, and from the looks of his expression, has never been more anxious in his entire life. Artix's chain mail gauntlets tugged at his own forehead hard- the Paladin could simply not stand it. Granemor, the oldest, most historical city in the whole of Lore, was as good as destroyed, and though most, if not all, key personnels had made it alive, almost all the rest had died in the conflict...

The sight of the town of Granemor during the vicious battle was too horrible to mention. The street were lined up in flame, and the corpses of people and monsters, of both humans and undead, of all shapes and sizes were everywhere. The stench of blood, of rotting bones, decomposing flesh, as well as the choking fumes of burning oak were more than appalling. Battle cries of the combined forces of the Paladin Order and the volunteer adventurers from Battleon, mingling with the hissing and clanging of the endless march of the bone legions filled the burning streets with a pandemonic atmosphere. The battle had been going on for more than half a day, and while the armies of Battleon and of the voluntary adventurers became thinner and thinner as time passed, the undead forces kept crowding in, each wave more vicious and numerous than the last. Sooner than enough, anyone in his right mind would realize that the battle was leading nowhere except for death and failure.

"The town is lost," said the Huntress, as she slashed an Undead Paladin through his dark golden mockery of the Paladin Armor's uniform, "We have no choice but tho retreat!"

Artix did not answer just yet. He was just too absorbed in crushing wave after wave of the skeletal foes, and the sound of old animated bones smashing under his heavy undead axe was deafening. Artix himself was getting tired- after all, the Lord Paladin wasn't superhuman. His strength was as limited as that of any other mortal, and never before had he cursed himself for that as much as he did now. The reason was simple enough. In the background, the cackling and sizzling of burning houses, the screaming and crying of children, the desperate calling and shouting of the adult, and the cries of pain from the wounded... were omnipresent. Amidst the sound of metal clashing, bones crushed, armors slashed open, the further noises signifying the suffering of the commoner and the barbaric howls of the undead creatures that the Network had brought along were such that maddening was just a mere understatement. Artix could feel it... any second that those undead creatures were to hold him back from saving the town and its people, another innocent life would be lost.

Another soul-rending cry of pain sounded right behind Artix, startling him to no end. The distinctively sharp cry that vanished the moment it was heard, that could only be of a child... a baby... Artix was certain. Those undead would kill anyone in their way, be it male or female, young or old, armed or defenseless. the fact that the vile undead horde would tear a defenseless baby into shreds were unforgivable, in any situation, in any war. The voice was quick to end, and with it carried a young life to the realms of Death before it could even start living.

"NO. It is not the way thing should be", Artix literally thought out aloud. The very thought gave rise to an uncontrollable rage of battle madness in Artix, as the Lord Paladin lunged almost uncontrollably at the undead horde once more, at full power, dishing out all the might he could afford. The resulting impact was horrible, as the undead paladin who was foolish enough to confront Artix when he was in the climax of his rage ended up cleaved into four equal portions. the next unfortunate Undead Braken suffered from an even worse fate- the acclaimed our-hit combo that Artix landed on the poor creature totally wrecked the formation of its body, leaving nothing but a mass of finely chopped, deanimated Braken meat in its wake. Artix's violent swinging of his axe to his backside took its final victim as an Undead Berserker planning a sneak attack were sliced into two- vertically. When the move was done for, Artix was left without much strength, and he literally knelt down on the bloody and bony street, panting, his eye still flaring in an unquenchable fury.

"Do you hear me, Paladin?" The Huntress almost yelled in annoyance, "I said the town is LOST, idiot! We must go now!"

"I am NOT retreating, Huntress," Artix said between gasps, his teeth clenched together as if chewing on an invisible enemy, "Call me with whatsoever name you would like, but I will not give up and see these people die!"

"If we don't retreat now, we won't possibly LIVE to tell the tale, Paladin!" The Huntress said firmly, "Let alone continue this fight!"

Artix clenched his fist, as sweat soaked this chain glove inside out. Another agonizing cry sounded in the horizon- this time it must be a girl's last scream, as an undead must have slashed her into half. If he were to retreat now... who else will die? Just how many more lives must be lost before the Devourer realize that this campaign would hurt none but the innocent, the weak and the defenseless, like any other war should? For once, Artix felt useless. The glorified, most decorated Head of the Paladin Order of Lore, and so well loved and idolized by the people he was, and yet now Artix felt so powerless... so pathetic.

"The children who shall never see sunshine once more..." Artix murmured, breathing heavily, "How can I face their parents? Their relatives?"

The Huntress promptly cut Artix's speech short by doing what she should- decapitating the vile Undead Basher bent on sneaking up on the Paladin. The dry, soulless sound of the lifeless skull falling on the ground brought Artix back to reality at last.

"Now what?" The Huntress asked with a visible degree of irony, "You wouldn't want to die like THAT, would you?"

Artix sighed. Was there no other choice, after all?

"Alright then, Huntress, you are right. This is not going too well," Artix concluded in great disappointment, as he shouted to the soldiers of Battleon still at arm, "EVERYONE, LEAVE GRANEMOR BEHIND! We shall meet back at Battleon!"

As Artix and the Huntress took flight from the burning Granemor, Artix didn't forget to shout back in a vengeful hatred too obvious to not be realized.

"This is not over, I repeat, NOT OVER! We shall get Granemor back!"

Before long, droplets of crystal liquids started to drip down Artix's palm. The kind and devoted paladin was weeping. The casualty report was still laying there on his tea table, and yet Artix dared not look at it any more. The number was too daunting even for a battle-hardened knight to look at. Fifteen thousand civilian deaths, as well as two full battalions of Paladin soldiers perishing in combat was no joking. Artix was crestfallen- the first time in his life, the mighty Paladin has failed to protect his dearest people- those he wound consider his family. And the deathly screams of slain children that he heard on the streets of Granemor would be enough to haunt him in guilt and self-conviction for the rest of his life. For this once, Artix felt as if even if he were to kill the 'Galin and shred him into many pieces, and be uncreated thereafter, there would be no regret. The Loremaster's words that th 'Galin didn't just come to play with Lore, but rather to cull the corruption from it no longer had any real effect on Artix's deranged mind at that time. Because to the Paladin, there was no excuse to killing the weak, the innocent and the defenseless.

"Holy Father who art in Heavens," muttered Artix in despair, "What should I do now? How should I avenge those innocent who were slain... those comrades of mine who have died... those children who would not live to see the beauty of daybreak ever again..."

The kind Paladin did not have to lie in guilt much longer, as a cold chill quickly ran down his shoulder as the was sitting there, pondering. Artix frowned- it was the usual chill present when an undead creature is within the vicinity. Artix could feel undead presence even quicker and with much greater accuracy than his fellow Paladins, as the ability to sniff out creatures of darkness was almost innate to him. And the fact that a non-living spirit is in the house puzzled Artix to no end. It was the Paladin Order, the pinnacle of Light that he is staying in, after all. Entering the place would mean destruction to anything demonic or undead.

What the... thought the Paladin, Who in the world, being undead, could have come here? But if they have come, let them die!

Artix brandished his prideful Golden Undead Axe, and promptly got up from the chair, before dashing at the door, forcefully kicked it open, and rushed out. There, in one corner of the corridor, the seasoned Paladin could see a shadow standing there, and Artix was certain of its undead affiliation. But it was far from a normal undead creature that was there in the corner. Normally, the stench of dark magic and necromancy in a creature of darkness would be so gross that it could make one puke. And this creature here possessed not that kind of putrid stench. Instead, it, or rather he, was almost human, as far as Artix could tell. Thinking so, the Paladin stopped for a moment, and mulled over the situation. However, the "moment" didn't last that long, for Artix's hatred of undead creatures was currently at its peak after all what has happened in Granemor.

Good or evil, I don't care now, Artix gritted his teeth, For those who have fallen!

"Die, foul spawn of darkness!" the furious Paladin cried out with the full power of his breath, and dashed towards the shadow as fast as his legs could carry him.

Artix didn't think further before lunging at the shadowy figure at the corner with his Undead Axe tightly gripped, getting ready to deliver a final blow. Yet, as Fate would have it, this clash was to be Artix's fateful one. Before the axe could even touch the target, Artix realized a swift movement by the shadow, but was too late to stop himself. Artix sooner than enough had to pay for his haste and blind fury- with a solid clang, the Paladin's Axe was tossed into the air, flew a full round over his head, and hit the wooden floor with a loud thud, the blade sinking deep into the material. To make matters worse, no sooner had the axe left his grip than Artix found himself confronted with a now materialized and solidified hammer twice the size and in all possibilities five times the weight of his own weapon, hanging dangerously just a few inches from his face. From the look of things, it appeared that whoever the shadow was, he could take Artix's life in a breeze now had he wanted.

"Foul creature of darkness," Artix roared in despair and fury, "What would you want with me now? If you don't, kill me quickly before I make you regret that!"

"Had I wanted to, you would have been dead long before you could get hold of that axe," the shadowy figure lifted his lips and spoke as he calmly moved his hammer to the ground as a sign of good faith, "But a seasoned Paladin like Mr. Artix von Krieger here would know that if a so-called undead creature would come right here to the Paladin Order alone, he isn't up to creating trouble in the first place, wouldn't he?"

"Just what on Lore would you want, ghost?" Artix cried out in great fury and impatience.

"Tsk, since when has the famous Artix forgotten his manners?" the shadowy figure asked back light-heartedly, "Unless you would like to convince me that the Paladins of Lore knew little about how a guest should be greeted"

Obviously the shadowy creature's almost incomprehensible calmness and positive attitude had put Artix off completely, leaving the Paladin literally speechless. It took some time before Artix could bring himself to responding again.

"Alright, you won," sighed Artix, "Now just tell me what you want, and be quick about it"

"I haven't much time myself, so I'll make it quick," the shadow spoke with extreme prejudice, "Do you want to get rid of the destroyer of world, the uncreator of civilizations, the godly entity know as the Devourer 'Galin? Yes, or no?"

Artix's feet froze solid. Destroying the 'Galin? No... it couldn't be that simple, could it? The Loremaster had told him for the n-th time that there was no way to kill the 'Galin. Ever. There was only one way to make him go away, that was to prove that Lore is united enough, not divided, free from corruption, and he would automatically leave. Even though Artix had been much annoyed, and since the last night, enraged by what the Devourer had done to his homeland and his comrades, he had grown to accept that there was no other choice. And now this ghost was telling him that there was a way to get rid of this annoying god after all? Did that mean that he could take vengeance for the death of his compatriots and fellow Paladin soldiers who died at Granemor? Could he be granted that right, after all?

Artix pinched himself on the cheek hard to see if he wasn't dreaming. He was not- his skin turned painfully red because of the testing. Still, with his last bit of wisdom, the Paladin realized that it would never be good for a paladin to trust an undead creature.

"An interesting proposal, huh?" Artix straightened his voice, pulling his extreme prejudice together, "Don't try to trick me, creature of darkness! Everyone knows that the Devourer can only be negotiated with and not battled against."

"I asked you yes, or no, did I, Lord Paladin of Lore?" the shadow repeated reprovingly.

Before Artix could make his next move, out of the corner went the figure, exposing himself under the full illumination of the candlelight, something Artix would never expect an undead to do when confronted by him. And to his surprise, the shadow wasn't a walking, rotting corpse, or a full set of animated skeletons, but rather appeared to be a young, slender and extremely good-looking gentleman, though pale and almost lifeless in his looks, dressed in leather brigandine and trousers, with the imposing hammer hanging over his slender shoulders. The spiky, blond mass of hair hanging over his face, hiding half of his forehead, revealing through its veil a pair of semi-innocent, semi-arrogant eyes. The figure's smile was even more captivating, apparently the signature prideful and confident smile of those who would believe they could do anything given the chance. yet, the entire visage of the shadowy figure seemed to be overflowing with a sort of unknown and incomprehensible sorrow, not that Artix had ever seen before.

By now the paladin was completely off track trying to find out whom the figure was in fact. He appeared to be almost undead and vampire-esque, but the air around him was pure and carried none of the nasty stench of blood and death as would normally encircle those vile bloodsuckers or rotting undead. But the lack of vitality and life, as seen in the extremely pale and lifeless complexion meant that he was as good as inhuman. In short, the shadow was more like a cross between an undead and a living, as far as Artix can tell. And undead, in Artix's dictionary, was synonymous to evil, even if the one standing in front of him was just half undead.

"Don't take me for those gullible children that anyone can deceive, vile undead!!" Artix roared furiously again- the Paladin appeared to be having a hard time controlling his temper in the current scenario.

"When I have called you by name, Artix von Krieger, Lord Paladin of Lore, I would expect you to do similarly," The figure shook his head in disapproval, "My name is Kuraodo Issac Gaean. Nice to meet you."

"Alright then," Artix said, trying to cull the anger, as he knew it wouldn't do any good- the figure called Kuraodo was able to subdue him with ease just now, "What do you want, Kuraodo?

"I want an answer to that question. Do you want to destroy the 'Galin?" was Kuraodo's simple, yet powerful confirmation.

"What if I say no?" Artix attempted to put on a decisive face for the last time, "Messing around with what a god does is NOT what an undead creature must do. Staying dead is what a nice docile undead is prompt to."

Artix was surprised once more to see that his threat's only effect on Kuraodo was to make the "undead" roar in laughter.

"Seeing that you are willing to live and wait until the Devourer's big day comes, I would comment no further," Kuraodo said, smiling sarcastically, "Don't expect other to be truthful to you when you are not truthful to yourself in the first place, so the saying goes. In that case, I may as well find another person who would say yes, and who is not you, noble Lord Paladin"

Artix stood there stunned for a moment. Certainly, after all that had happened in Granemor, he was the one who hated the 'Galin the most. He was the one who would most want to see the Uncreator suffer like those people he had made to. He was the one who would take pleasure in slitting the Devourer's throat and bathe in his blood, amongst all those who had been educated about the true purpose of the Uncreator. Yes, Falerin had told him, Tralin had told him, and even Eldron had told him, no, grudges must not be born towards the Uncreator, because he is good and not evil, and would rather see Lore cleanse of the latter. But if in doing so he would force thousands of people to die, so that their corpses will pave the way to an utopia yet to come, Artix would rather do the culling himself and to hell with the Uncreator's needless intervention. Yes. To be truthful to himself as Kuraodo suggested, he wanted to kill the 'Galin. Much more than anyone else.

"Yes. Though, as I have been told, his purpose is pure and noble," Artix finally confessed, "He and his soldiers have killed far too many innocent people to be forgiven. He must take the responsibility for it. And responsibility here means punishment for what he has done."

Kuraodo nodded, a smile of approval bloomed on his face.

"Still... there is no known way to kill him, is there?" Artix asked back, "We are mortals. However powerful we are, we must know our place..."

"If there were a way, Artix von Krieger, will you take the task into your hands?" Kuraodo asked.

Artix cupped his hand over his forehead again. Yes, it is true that he wants to kill the Devourer. But how could he ever get the task done? And even if the task were to be done, what will become of Lore? The death of a deity was never an ordinary occurrence. The Loremaster once mentioned the period in Caelestian history following the death of Ishida the Wise, God of Serenity, during which a large portion of the world was thrown into turmoil and chaos, lasting almost half a millennium, until another lesser god, Tokugawa the Sage, took over the duty. And keeping in mind that Ishida was just a minor god, and the 'Galin was a major god of Lore, just imagining what would happen to the world as that happen would make Artix frown.

"You know what would happen when a god pass away. The sky will rain blood. People will suffer, and..." Artix said, thinking rigorously.

"Sacrifices must be made. No one, including deities, is irreplaceable. The 'Galin is not evil, I admit. But he is wrong in his ways. Unless, of course, you see that killing thousands and millions of people to help purge "corruption" is a good thing," Kuraodo shook his head.

Another moment of absolute silence passed as Artix focused on the thoughts at hands. Yes, what Kuraodo said was right. Lore could take care of its own self. Good people like himself, like Yulgar, like Nimrod and the Guardians, like Aquellia, Lavistra and many others, they would not let evil roam free, be the Devourer there or not. Thinking so, Artix took a deep breath, and then nodded decisively.

"I agree. Firstly we must save Lore from the clutches of the Devourer and the network first. If killing him is the best option, I shall take the task," Artix slammed his chain gloved fist on the brick wall, "The last question left is... how?"

"As the saying goes, when there is a will, there is a way. The story I am about to tell you would sum up mostly all of what you are looking for," Kuraodo said, "Fifty five years ago, a young smith of Lore, an extremely famous blacksmith who had made loads of gold and reputation by his own skills, had come to the decision to left his homeland, and for the fifteen following years, he had toiled away at a desolated location in this far and wide universe, facing various danger, risking his life thousands of times, even going as far as to almost lose one of his limbs. All of that was to create a pair of blades that can kill any god, and I do mean any."

"Wow," Artix gasped in amazement, "Any god? Is that an exaggeration?"

"No, not at all. Because they don't work in the way other weapons do. They are powered by an art called alchebra, that deals with the very existence of a god. Believe me, it would take too long for me to explain to you. The said blacksmith spent fifteen years of his life just on that, if you know what I mean," explained Kuraodo, "So, you can rest assured that they can, and will kill if that is necessary"

"So... where can I find the swords? How much money would he ask for those masterpieces?" Artix asked impatiently, "A million gold pieces?"

Kuraodo shook his head in disbelief.

"Then, two millions?"

Kuraodo still shook.

"Three? Four? Five? Ten millions? That is as far as I can afford"

"He shall not sell those weapons. Never. Currently these blades are hidden in a secret cave in Thunder Mountains, but you shouldn't try getting them yourselves," Kuraodo finally said, "Because the price for the seal to be broken is his own life. In short, he will die the very moment the swords become active again"

"What?" Artix gasped, "Then, how could we use that two blades?"

"That is to see how charismatic you are," Kuraodo said, "If you can persuade him, then high fives for your effort"