"If our weakest man has not given up, how is kneeling in defeat acceptable for us?" Crusch Karsten.
Chapter 2: Fallen monsters, great and small.
"By the Divine Dragon Capella! You didn't think to mention this thing dying first?" Was the first thought that sprang to the sin archbishop's mind as he arrived at the capital.
Featured prominently at the crowded center, was a desiccated, behemoth of a corpse that lay before him, its face full of gashes and slashes, bruised and beaten with a single eye that stared listlessly at the sky, its horn that once stood tall, broken and its head torn from the calamity's once, mighty, invincible body.
It was sickening to look at.
"Lord archbishop-sama, is that..."
"If you were going to say white whale, then yes." Pride interrupted, gazing at the fallen beast with a mixture of apprehension and condemnation for the creature that had fallen so easily.
"My apologies if my words somehow offended you my lord." The companion cultist bowed, making the other sigh, they drew a lot of attention already being the only two people in the crowd wearing hoods, the incessant bowing only made them stand out even more.
"Brother john, I really don't need your sass right now." The archbishop told the cultist under his breath, their behavior already earning looks of suspicion from people, especially the guards who eyed them with clear mistrust, as if daring the pair to do something violent.
"As you wish, lord archbishop-sama -"
-stop saying -sama! And stop calling me an archbishop!" The archbishop snarled, albeit very quietly at his dense companion, who only, again, offered a deep bow in apology.
"Just read the report." Pride said, walking to a more secluded location after giving the whale one last look. They came across one of the many alleyways that Lugnica was famous for and the cultist took out a parchment and read aloud.
"This document contains sensitive information regarding the witch's cult and its affiliates, as such, it is only meant to be read by those deem worthy of the witch's blessing. Should you, reader, be not one of those people, then the powerful curse that has been transferred onto you should already have taken into affect, and the only way to lift it is to surrender to your nearest believer/follower/worshipper, who will then promptly - "
"Skip ahead a bit, brother." Pride remarked, prompting the cultist to flip a few pages before continuing.
"- a raven-haired boy of fair complexion, and a fair face suggesting a young age. Though no identification can be found in Lugnican records to confirm, the man is calling himself Natsuki Subaru and possesses an alarming number of discrepancies to his name. The most alarming of course, pertains to the strong miasma that surrounds his person, similar to the witch's scent associated with archbishops. Secondly, his strange assortment of clothes that bear no resemblance to any previously known culture on the continent, it is suspected that -"
"Wait, hold on..." The archbishop had been tuning out most of the jargon that usually came with these types of reports, not really expecting anything too remarkable too early but one thing had caught his attention. "Did you just say that he has the witch's scent?"
The cultist paused in their reading, skimming the pages again and slowly nodded. "It does state here that the boy, this Natsuki Subaru, smells deeply of the witch, similar in strength to that of an archbishop."
Pride went silent, stunned at the information presented. He reached out his hand for the document and read again it to be sure, "-most alarming of course, pertains to the strong miasma that surrounds his person, similar to the witch's scent associated with archbishops-" Pride for once, was struck speechless, rendered mute by, what was to him, a once in a lifetime occurence.
"My lord?" The cultist questioned, a worried note in their tone. A question that went unanswered as the man remained unmoving, if he wasn't so clearly standing, the cultist would've thought that his master was catatonic, forced into a fugue state by sheer shock.
"Incredible..." The archbishop rasped out, making the cultist look at his superior in surprise. "Incredible, archbishop-sama?"
"Yes... simply incredible."
"He absorbed the witch factor. That must be it. There's no other explanation. He was compatible then." Pride felt his brain race with possibilities and probabilities, of the new paths opened and opportunities given to the them by this single piece of information alone.
"Good work... excellent as usual, Prester." The cultist jumped at the usage of his first name, his mouth was suddenly dry as a dessert as he hastily muttered his thanks to the archbishop. Ready to give another bow but he stopped himself just in time.
As if the archbishop found his thanks empty or perhaps he was simply unsatisfied with the cultist's reaction, a small pouch was thrown towards Prester, to which he quickly grabbed, his eyes widened underneath the hood as he identified the contents.
"Gold coins, This is too much m'lord!" Cried out the startled cultist, a sentiment that was waved off by the archbishop, saying things like "you deserve it" and "buy some new clothes next time so you don't blow our cover."
It was a nice gesture, undercut slightly when they were rudely interrupted by a yell behind them. "Oi, you got some more of those coins to share?"
The pair turned around, one murderous and the other annoyed, both furious at the sudden interruption. Before them stood 3 thugs of varying sizes and shape, from small and nimble to large and unwieldy.
Both the archbishop and his follower made no attempts to hide their ire, with the bishop producing a sword previously hidden under the illusionary cloak he wore, its blade glinting with malicious intent in the darkness. The eye of the sword, free from its sheath glared intensely at the 3 thugs making them pause in their advancement.
"Woah, these guys are armed! Maybe we shoul - Ack!"
The thug fell something whizz pass his cheek, drawing the barest hint of blood. Flinching the thug staggered back, only to be startled at the sudden sound behind him. The thug turned and saw a curved dagger, one that implanted itself into the wall with such force that it remained suspended.
Pride gave a look of appreciation at the cultist, the thugs had appeared so quickly that he had only time to take out his beloved sword. He was about to tell his companion to not kill them, but the archbishop was glad that the cultist did so anyway, giving them a warning shot instead of an outright death.
As the archbishop was having these thoughts, another thug, thug 2, a thin looking man with colorful hair took a tentative step back. He had also witnessed the dagger, shining as it was in the sunlight as they were near the entrance of the alleyway, but he was far more fearful of what it represents, the man paled, calling out to his buddies the moment he recognized the infamous curved design of the blade.
"Ah - ah - no.. its the cult! The witch's cult!" He mumbled out, his fellow thugs gave a surprised "huh?" In response as the man continued to blabber. "Cultists! Cultists! Guards! Please... help!" The man shouted wildly while stumbling, then crawling backwards with a fearful look in his eye.
"Cultists? Did the boss just say these guys are cultists?!" Thug 3 said, his eyes widening in realization as he looked at the pair that they were going to rob before.
"I - think h-he did.. oh n-no no... please... spare us..!" Thug 1 immediately dropped to their knees and wailed, begging for mercy with all his might.
Seeing as how the situation turned out, Pride slowly sheathed his sword. Prester looked at his superior in apprehension but followed suit, determining the threat to be neutralized.
"Well this turned out better than I expected." The archbishop commented, loud enough for the 3 thugs to cower in fear. His voice was oddly androgynous and masked, with the archbishop's figure cloaked in an aura of secrecy, as if the three were staring at a black hole of ambiguity. The cultist beside him simply stood idle, waiting for something.
"Listen up criminals and listen well! Not for the first time have you overstepped your boundaries, and encountered a foe far greater than you could possibly match. I, however, am a generous master and will consider letting you all go."
The 3 thugs looked at the pair with hopeful eyes.
"But first! A curse upon thy names!" Pride shouted, waving his hands around in lieu of casting a curse, prompting his companion to roll his eyes at the complete lack of adherence to common cursing curtesy.
The thugs were fooled however by the performance, as they gave a scream each, ranging from shrill to deep. An arrangement that might not seem to far off from a practicing choir group.
"To lift the curse you must complete 5 deeds that you deem as good, only then shall you be free of its agonizing affects. Oh, and also to not speak of this encounter ever again." The archbishop declared, quickly adding the last part so the thugs don't get any ideas.
Pride needn't have worried, the 3 immediately began prostrating themselves before the two, "We promise, cultist-sama, to never do a bad dead again." They chanted their promise. The veracity of the statement made both cultists roll their eyes.
"Drop the -sama please... and get going." Pride made a shooing motion at the criminals, they quickly took the hint and ran out of the alleyway, jumping for joy as they lived to tell the tale. Not that they would ever tell anyone about it.
A silence permeated the alleyway, broken when Prester commented, "seems like you have quite the following, lord archbishop-sama."
"Already have one, my friend." The lord archbishop answered, placing a hand on the cultist's shoulder. Pride took off his hood and smiled at his companion, a cheery look to his face.
With no hesitation, Prester followed, revealing his face to return the expression in full force.
"Quick! The screams came from here!" A commanding voice shouted from the other end of the alleyway, making them both turn. A march of footsteps, metal boots clanging against stone followed.
"Seems we got company." The cultist said.
"No we don't." The archbishop remarked.
"But –"
"El shamak."
And the entire alleyway was plunged into a deep darkness, taking the guards completely by surprise as they came out of the alleyway as fast as they came in, coughing and blinking rapidly as they did so. The spell not only blinded them but dulled their senses, making them panic but unharmed.
By the time that the guards were able to call in a mage to clear the alleyway, the perpetrators were long gone, melting into the blackness of the walls like shadows.