Chapter 5: Entity

Countless withered trees emerged from the thick mist covering the ground, their twisted branches forming a ceiling over her. As she ran past them, she could hear the indistinct calls of unknown creatures reacting to her presence.

She sank in the mist with every step she took; she was panting heavily and her lungs felt on fire. Her legs hurt so terribly she was crying, but what she felt was nothing compared to what was behind her could do.

The lacerated skirt was hindering her movements, while the large necklace she was wearing kept banging on her chest at every step. Tears were flowing down her face, and her ice blue eyes reflected the sheer terror she was feeling.

Exerting herself to the fullest, she kept running through the woods with only a bluish diffused light to show the way. The trees were becoming scarcer, and in the far distance she saw the end of the forest.

She couldn't dare to look behind and check if the pursuer was still following her. She was certain to be chased and she knew that if she looked at that once more she would completely loose all her will to flee. She could only use whatever energy she had left and escape the woods before being caught.

The uneven terrain, filled with sharp rocks and covered by inscrutable mist, caused her to stumble over and over as she covered the remaining distance. The branches kept scratching her body as she passed by them, turning every step separating her from salvation in a glimpse of hell.

With only meters separating her from freedom and her body exhausting even the strength found in desperation, her foot sunk deep into the mist.

She instinctively raised her hands to protect the face as she fell. The sharp rocks pierced deeply, as if the ground was covered in broken glasses. Her ankle hurt more than anything else in her body, but even before she could verify whether it was broken or not, a swarm violently left the burrow with so much force to send her flying away.

She fell on her back not too far away, with something hard piercing her shoulder. The swarm was still flying out of the nest; the potent noise of those countless monstrosities was hurting her ears as they scattered across the forest.

She rolled. She crawled. She limped.

She was covered in sweat, dirt and blood. With pieces of rock stuck in her body, her foot bent in an unnatural angle and eyes blurred by tears, she slowly reached the end of the forest.

After the last tree scratched her skin, she stopped to observe what was in front of her as blood was slowly spilling out of her countless wounds.

For as far as her eyes could see, in every direction she could go, there were mist and nothingness. Just a step in front of her, the forest's mist fell down from a cliff into the void. A cascade falling for eternity was all that awaited those leaving the woods.

She didn't move. She hadn't the strength to. She lacked the will necessary to even despair. The only reaction she could have was a silent wept.

Suddenly, just when the last remains of her strength were about to leave her body, a woman's arm embraced her from behind. She felt her body leaning against a human figure; in a motherly manner, the one gently hugging her carefully removed the tears from her face with the thumb. One hand then moved to her hairs, gently brushing them with the palm.

As she was being lovingly cuddled from behind, she lacked the strength to do anything. They remained one step from the brink of nothingness in absolute silence; one hugging the other the same way a mother would her child.

The otherworldly silence continued as the woman kept brushing her hairs. Both hands were covered in dark gloves, with all fingers but the thumbs adorned by silvery rings extending forward like talons. Her sleeves were long, almost reaching the ground. She even felt something soft and comfortable on her back. It was an embrace one could lose into.

When the one hugging her stopped brushing her hairs, the hands joined over her chest completing the embrace. She then leaned the head on her shoulder and remained there immobile.

Before long, the unnatural silence enveloping them came to an end.

"Why are you running from us?"

The voice lacked any emotion. It seemed to come directly from within her head rather than from any direction.

As she heard those words, tears flowed down her cheeks only for the woman to once more gently remove them with her thumb.

"Are you afraid?"

She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. Fear was all she had left.

"Do not be. We would not ever cause harm… Not to you."

Her vision was steadily growing darker as blood kept leaking out of her body; her mind was going blank. She couldn't feel her limbs anymore and her eyes were slowly closing.

"We are your allies. Heed us in the wars to come, spread our word with devotion."

As her eyes closed and consciousness left her body, she heard the women's last words clearly in her mind.

"Have faith in us, for as long as faith guides your actions, you shall never know defeat."


She opened her eyes. Her vision was filled by the extremely elaborate work of art everyone insisted was her bed's head, a masterpiece decorated with more gold than she could have bought in a lifetime of work.

She turned her head to face a side of the suite. Gold, silver, crystal, ivory… no idea what that red thing was made of but if it was there it was probably expensive. Three days ago she worked part-time to afford university, now just the bed she was sleeping on was worth more than a year of rent.

She listened to the rain outside her windows for a long moment, slowly gathering the willpower to leave her heaven of feathers and silk. She then reluctantly cast aside the warm blanket and felt cold shivers running down her spine as the slightly colder air suddenly made direct contact with her skin.

She ran behind the dressing screen, moving quickly to reduce as much as possible the contact between her bare feet and the cold marble floor.

Illuminated only by the faint light passing through both clouds and windows, she grabbed a long dress hastily thrown on a chair. After overcoming a few difficulties due to getting dressed in the dark, she begun to wear her jewels, light armor and other items either placed on a small table or straight out randomly left on the floor.

Then, from the other side of the dressing screen, she heard something moving in her bed. It called to her with a light tone.

"…Lady Izora?"

She blushed as memories from the previous night were evoked to her mind. Failing at controlling the tonality of her answer, she responded with an unusually high-pitched voice.

"I'm here. Just give me a second."

Feeling her face turning an even deeper tonality of red, she continued to equip all the items scattered around her.

After finally managing to find her last ring behind one leg of the chair, she stepped outside of the area covered by the dressing screen.

Standing in front of her was a beautiful men just a couple of years older than her, with perfectly groomed short blond hair, deep blue eyes and a smile capable of stealing any woman's heart.

There wasn't a hint of tiredness on his face; on the contrary, he was both perfectly awake and well rested. With his back straight and a ready expression on his face, Izora couldn't help but wonder about what she must have looked like in comparison.

She noticed he was wearing his shining golden full-plate armor, a wrinkleless white cape on his back and a one-handed sword to his side. How he managed to wear all that in a few seconds while she struggled to put on a dress was beyond her ability to comprehend.

As she saw that the other person that spent the night in the room was awake as well, a timid smile appeared on her face. She then raised her hands in front of her and attempted to clap them twice as gracefully as possible.

In response to the previously coded command all the lights in the room switched on, revealing just how massive the suite they were in actually was.

As Izora looked back at the man in full-plate armor, she realized he was staring seriously at her. Unsure of what might have caused this reaction, her mind immediately went once more to the previous night. Was it something she had done? Something she had said? Or something she hadn't said?

As she was unable to find either a cause for his stare or a way to make it end, the white caped man tenderly smiled at her. Even as he was walking toward her, Izora found herself unable to think of anything aside his beautiful smile.

Once they were one half a meter from the other, he raised his hands and moved them behind her neck. Izora felt her body temperature rising quickly and cursed herself for swallowing so loudly. Her mind was going completely blank and she had no idea what to do.

Then, he removed her necklace, flipped it on the other side and put it back around her neck, facing the right way.

"Lady Izora, do you wish me to call some attendants before breakfast?"

After finally processing what had just happened, she forced her gaze to leave his perfect smile and meet his eyes. Then, she answered with a genuine smile on her face.

"Please do."


As the blade completed its ark, blood gushed out of the creature. It crawled for a few meters, agonizing on the floor and roaring weakly. After it fell, Izora could see it was still breathing. She moved her hand toward it, the palm facing toward the wound, and she pronounced the incantation.

"[Pillar of life]."

A column of positive energy fell from above, completely enveloping the creature on the floor. Its radiance was so powerful that it brightened the entirety of the room to the point it was hard to look at it without closing the eyes.

The near-deadly wound closed with unnatural speed, completely disappearing from the creature's body as if it had never been inflicted in the first place.

Once the pillar of life vanished, the creature stood once more. She saw the fear in its amber eyes; it trembled and kept moving in circles looking for an exit, a beast caged in the depths of despair.

Izora looked in a corner of the room. Standing silently over there, with the head lowered in deference, was a human figure wrapped in dark clothes similar to the ones she was wearing.

The moment her eyes rested on him, the individual raised his hand in a similar way as she had done a moment earlier.

"[Bestow curse: seven plagues]."

His hand was wrapped in a greenish light as the spell begun to affect its target.

The creature's veins turned black and it begun to vomit unnaturally dark blood. As it fell once more on the floor in convulsions and spasm, disgusting yellow pus begun to flow out of large black buboes all over its body. Its fur quickly begun to fall of, quickly followed by the skin. Cracks appeared over its horns and fangs, breaking them into countless shreds.

The creature screamed in pain, its eyes made contact with hers.

Izora felt like throwing up at the sight of its exposed muscles.

She raised her hand once more, and once more she spoke a fitting incantation.

"[Heal]."

Her hand was enveloped in light, and the creature suffering in front of her was covered in extremely intense positive energy. For a brief moment, everything the occupants of the room could see was the creature's outline filled with blinding light.

The spell swiftly removed all low-end afflictions, while at the same time healing a considerable amount of damage. Once the spell was over, the creature was once more as it had been before, with no wounds, curses or symptoms of affliction.

Izora looked at it. It wasn't standing or moving. It was still breathing, but it had no more will to live.

"Jehoel."

As she called for him with an emotionless voice, the white-caped man standing beside her formally answered her call.

"My lady."

His lips were forming the same beautiful smile he had in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to appreciate it under those circumstances.

"We have been doing this for hours. I wish to take a break."

The man placed a hand on his chest and bowed to show understanding.

"Shall we leave the creature here until your return?"

She looked at it one last time, large and powerful, yet unmoving and broken. Its body was still alive, but the spirit was utterly shattered.

"No." she answered. "Dispose of it."

As those words left her lips, Jehoel drew his sword while approaching the creature. In a single fluid motion, with surgical precision, his blade pierced the body until the blade's point reached the heart. Izora couldn't find a hint of hesitation in his movements, nor regret on his face.

The beast stopped breathing the very moment the blade pierced its body. Its suffering had come to an end in the same way as its predecessors.

As if waiting for that moment, several servants stationed just outside the door entered the room. Two of them, white capes, went toward the creature's corpse and begun to wrap it into a large blood-stained cloth; the others, half a dozen castle maids, started to clean what was left of the beast off the floor. The familiar scene was painful to watch to the point her head was spinning.

Incapable to remain in the room any further, she turned toward the still opened door and left.

Walking down the hallway, she heard the sound of steps following her closely. She didn't need to turn to know Jehoel was the one accompanying her.

Ever since her arrival in the new world, she kept practicing divine magic on a daily basis. Just like the other magic casters among her friends, she needed to try all her spells to verify if they were still usable. She told the NPCs they were doing it to verify if the new world affected magic in some way, but they would have probably helped her even if she hadn't explained.

As a cleric she was focused on support, over half of her spells were to be cast on allies; this however meant that for every healing spell she tested someone had to get wounded.

After having spent some time in the new world they had managed to find more powerful monsters than the beasts they had first encountered, so they captured some of those to experiment on. The tests were proceeding smoothly, but it meant that she had to spend many hours every day hurting and healing those creatures until they broke. The first night she didn't even managed to sleep, and ever since then she had kept having nightmares.

They kept walking through the hallways until they reached a large room. To the opposite side there was a massive door, easily as impressive as the one leading to the thrones room. It was over ten meters high, made of dark wood and reinforced with gold-like supports. Engraved in it there were seven intimidating figures, some depicting somewhat humane individuals while others representing horrendous beasts, sculpted so that they would watch over everyone in the room.

As they drew closer, the white capes standing at the sides begun to operate with the door's mechanism. The passage slowly opened, and a spectacular sight welcomed them as they entered.

An extremely long room extended in front of them, paired with an unbelievably tall ceiling. Across the entirety of its length, innumerable luxurious seats were aligned in rows all facing the same direction. Arcs and columns sustained the vaulted ceiling, from which many immense enchanted chandeliers spread light through the room. On the other end of the room was a fresco as wide as the wall itself; depicting divine scenes of deities and demons battling each other. Although it was already a priceless masterpiece, precious metals and gems further enhanced its beauty.

Izora had visited the temple many times ever since being dragged into the new world, and every time she felt dwarfed by it.

She proceeded to the opposite side of the room, toward the point all seats were arranged to face. Positioned there, over a large marble altar whose beauty wasn't overshadowed by anything else she had seen that day, there were seven small statues aliened in a straight line.

Once the two of them finally crossed the interminable distance between the door and the altar, she stared at the effigies in silence.

She didn't remain absorbed in her thoughts for too long before the only other occupant of the room broke the silence.

"Has it happened again?"

Izora's attention shifted toward Jeohel.

He was looking at her, hints of concern over his face. He waited politely for a respond, trying not to pressure her in answering and ready to drop the subject any moment. The care he treated her with made Izora want to open to him, to remove the weight off her chest.

She nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Which was it?"

She looked back at the seven divine effigies on the altar, each representing a god the class [Living pantheon] allowed her to worship.

She extended her arm toward the third from the left. It depicted a robed woman, with an impassive and expressionless face bracketed by an imposing mantle of sharpened blades.

"… The lady of pain."

There were both fear and reverence behind his words. In Yggdrasil every player was asked to select a deity to worship at the beginning of the game; unless one learned how to use divine magic there was no apparent weight behind that choice, but there were some rare skills and items that counted the worship of specific deities in their requirements. For this reason, every player and NPC in their guild worshiped one of the seven deities represented on the altar.

Even thought Jeohel wasn't himself a worshiper of the lady of pain, he still respected the choice many other inhabitants of the flying castle made, but feared what she represented.

"Has she done anything to you?"

Memories from the nightmare flooded her mind. The fear and the pain she felt, the desperation and the fatigue constantly growing, the emotionless conversation in front of the absolute nothingness.

"… She spoke to me."

He waited for Izora to continue, looking at her with absolute seriousness as she discussed bad dreams. She felt stupid for giving them so much weight, but recently the line between what she should and shouldn't worry about had become quite blurry.

"She told me to heed them in the wars to come, to spread their word. That as long as I have faith I won't be defeated."

Jeohel face was so serious she felt almost scared of him. He averted his eyes and studied the lady of pain's effigy. His eyes were locked on it, but she realized he was thinking of something else. Unsure about how to approach him, she waited for him to break the silence.

"Has she told you what the wars are? Whom will we be fighting against?"

The sudden questions and the extremely serious attitude were unlike anything she had come to know of him in the last few days.

"No… Just what I told you."

She looked at him with uneasy eyes. That discussion had continued for far too long.

"Jeohel, this was only a bad dream. The last few days have been very hard for me, and now I'm just getting impressed. There's nothing to worry about."

After failing to convince either of them, they both dropped the subject and let silence envelop the room.

For several minutes, the only sounds they could hear were the rain falling on the windows and their own breaths. Uncomfortable with the silence yet unable to say anything more, Izora stared at the small statues on the altar and thought about those words.

After quickly reaching the limit of her endurance, she turned and looked at Jeohel.

"What do you…"

Those words died in her mouth when a familiar sound echoed throughout the temple. Her eyes immediately went to her belt, where one of the items hanging from it was now covered in a faint light.

She grabbed the medallion and placed it in front of her. She instinctively looked at Jeohel before accepting the communication. Nightmares, deities and magic experiments were becoming harmful to her self-confidence.

The light moved to form a humanoid shape over the medallion. It was covered in a cloak and wore an expressionless mask, voided of all facial features.

Ever since all this started she had seen that figure only a couple of times, and always during the mandatory meetings the guild leader was organizing on a daily basis.

"Raal. It has been a while since we last spoke."

The cloaked assassin nodded slightly at those words.

"Indeed. Do you have anything important to do tonight?"

Baffled by the sudden question she instinctively glimpsed once more at Jeohel, who failed to completely conceal his confusion.

"No. My last appointment is the daily meeting with you and the others. After that I'm free."

The figure on the medallion nodded once more.

"Very well then. Would you go out with me tonight?"

The words echoed in the temple, followed by absolute silence. By the time the priestess managed to process the meaning of that sentence, she gave voice to the thoughts that had formed in her mind.

"Ehhhhh?"


One could truly appreciate the beauty of the plain only from a high location, where on clear days you could see the fields coloured by the many different crops for miles. Looking at the sunset outside the window was one of his favourite moments of the day. No matter how bad he felt; the magnificent sight of the warm light caressing the fields always gave him a moment of peace.

He sighted at the beauty of the spectacle in front of him, one of the very few things that gave him relief in the last months. The few minutes it took for the sun to disappear behind the horizon were spent in religious silence.

Once it was gone, he moved away from the window. On the other side of the room, a man was waiting for him. He was in the middle of his twenties, young and strong. He carried a sword at his side and had the robust built to use it. His face was serious and disciplined; yet the most perceptive would be able to notice hints of concern in his eyes.

"I'll be going."

At those words, the man opened the door for him.

He looked one more time outside his window, trying to engrave in his heart the sight he so much cherished; the two of them then left the room.

Their destination was just a floor below, but to him it felt like an interminable distance.

A few months ago, in circumstances beyond anyone's ability to comprehend, an unknown and deadly condition appeared within the city's walls. The alchemists had long debated its nature, with some believing it to be the poisonous bite of a small monster while others claiming it to be a parasitic mushroom. For him it made no difference either way, the only thing that mattered was that it had infected his son.

In his life he had his fair share of misfortune. A famine that lasted two years, the death of his parents, his brother falling in battle when the city was besieged by monsters and he inheriting the title when he was way too young and inexperienced to keep up the family name; but he had always managed to limit the damages through effort and willpower, keeping both the family and the city afloat.

This time however, nothing of what he tried to do could solve the situation. Alchemists, herbalists and every manner of sage agreed on one point, no method that could be found in the dragon lord of wilderness' territory could save him.

If his son were to die, it would all be over. The family name he had devoted his entire life keeping alive would end with him. If it was impossible to save his son within the dragon lord's territory, then the only choice was to reach beyond its borders.

In an agricultural city such as Ulovale, several nobles maintained their wealth through large fields cultivated by slaves; connections with slave traders were not only useful but also necessary to maintain one's status. He had contacted one of his oldest trading partners and made him follow the rumours of the theocracy's clerics. If no cure existed in the land of the dragon, he would find it in the land of the gods.

The expedition was a complete failure. Traveling into the territory of other dragon lords was never an easy task, but the theocracy's magicians were far tougher than the slavers could have ever expected. When he discovered half of the slave traders had died he thought it was over, but then the remaining half returned to Ulovale and he was overjoyed to discover they managed to capture a cleric.

Back then, all he would have expected but what happened next. Their leader died during the expedition, and the new one had more interest in profit than in respecting the agreement made by the recently deceased one.

They refused to even listen to his private offer and decided to auction the cleric off in the streets, so that the entire city could compete for it.

At the auction he offered everything his family could afford, but he still lost. The governor had greatly outbid him, forever ruining with a single move one the most important families opposing him. The end of lord Gerber el Nehim and the Nehim lineage was bought on the street.

In the end, no amount of effort can stop sheer bad luck. When opposed by destiny, what can a man do?

Gerber and the guard accompanying him came to a halt once they reached a wooden door. It was fairly plain, with no decoration worthy of being mentioned, but one thing greatly differentiated it from the others; eight white crosses had been drawn with chalk on it.

He spent one moment to look at the two rows of marks he drew some hours ago, just doing so made him feel fear surging within him.

After he lost the auction a few days ago, he immediately began to prepare another expedition. It took the slavers roughly twenty days to bring a cleric back; if his son could manage to survive that long then there could have still been a chance. But after the news of the losses sustained during the first expedition spread, not even mercenary companies dared to cross the theocracy's borders.

Just when he had run out of options and was a step away from giving up, the presence spoke to him.

Just thinking about it made him tremble in fear. An amalgamation of darkness leaking from his shadow had appeared in one of the city's securest locations and assumed human form in front of him. No matter how loudly he screamed, the guards standing just a couple of steps from him had not even turned they heads. It was only when confusion and fear reached their absolute peaks that the presence spoke.

His words were clear and left no room for interpretation. "Serve me, and your son will live."

The sheer terror he felt that very morning made him unable to give any comprehensible answer; thinking back about it, that had probably been his salvation.

"You have until dusk to accept. If you do, draw eight crosses on your son's door."

Following those cold words, the presence had vanished into nothingness as if it had never existed. The guards swore nothing had happened with so much certainty he doubted his senses, but the white chalk left on his desk was an undisputable proof that what had happened was as real as he had felt it.

Steeling his resolve, he opened the faintly squeaking eight-crossed door and entered his son's bedroom.

It was a fairly large room, though nearly empty. The only pieces of furniture were his son's bed and a couple of chairs beside it. The windows had remained closed ever since his son first showed symptoms, with thick curtains to keep out natural light; the alchemists had advised against outside activities and exposure to the sun.

Once he entered, the occupants of the chamber shifted their attention toward him. They all bowed in deference to the head of one among the most respectable and ancient families in Ulovale.

However, though three guards and two attendants were already paying their respects, two individuals had yet to lower their heads. One was his wife, occupying one of the chairs beside the bed, and the other was his son.

He looked at him sleeping in his bed. He was barely in his teens; his skin was as pale as the sheets he was under. His face was sickly emaciated; ever since this tragedy struck, he didn't remember having seen his son moving from the position he was in. He was weak and frail, just touching him could cause him pain. The hardest thing for him to look at was the black stain crawling on his neck; only the previous week it was circumscribed to the torso, now it was already making its way to the head.

The house's future rested on an alliance with another one, and his son was destined to become the seal of their union. If he lived, he would marry the heir of one of the city's most influential families, marking the beginning of an era of prosperity and stability for the Nehim. If he died, their family would end with him, and their names would never be spoken again. If the presence were able to save him, he would pay any price.

Of the nine people currently in the room, he was the only one knowing what was about to happen. He hadn't told anyone; and even if he had, no one would have believed him. The guards he questioned immediately after the presence's visit dismissed his behaviour as the consequence of all the stress and fatigue he had accumulated recently, while the crosses on his son's door caused him to earn several pitiful stares. Hadn't it been for the chalk he kept in his pocket, he himself would have thought to be going insane.

He walked toward his wife, sitting by their son's bed. She was looking at him with tired eyes; ever since this tragedy struck, she had been aging visibly every day. Her hairs had lost the intense brown colour that had earned her countless praises in the past, long deep wrinkles covered her face in a testament to countless sleepless nights and her eyes were red for all the tears she had wept.

Personally, he wasn't doing any better. The unshaved beard gave him a shabby look, and every time he looked at himself in the mirror his blond hairs were closer to becoming completely white. For a couple in their late thirties, any onlooker would now swear them to be over fifty.

He sat next to her, occupying the only other chair in the room. They remained like that for a while, both looking at their son in silence.

"Will he live?"

He looked at her. He couldn't read her in that state; she seemed to have already realized there was no hope for their son.

"Alise…"

"Tell me!"

He was startled by his wife's sudden scream. Everyone else in the room looked at her, their faces all filled with concern.

"Ilward could die any moment and there is nothing we can do about it."

After Alise said those words, she turned back to look at their son. She would have wept if she had tears left.

"Please. Tell me…"

He didn't know what to say. Telling her Ilward will live would destroy her when he died, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her their only son was destined to an untimely demise.

He put his hand on her shoulder, trying his best to give her strength.

"Alise, you need to…"

He interrupted himself halfway through the sentence and looked at his wife.

She was perfectly still. Though she was breathing normally and she blinked at fairly regular intervals, she was staring in front of her while remaining as immobile as a living person could.

He turned toward the other occupants of the room. They all were in the same condition, the guards looking at nothing and the attendants motionless.

He instinctively looked at the closed window, but he had no way to see how bright was outside. He could only assume the last rays of the sun had now vanished as well. He knew what was about to happen next.

Thump, thump, thump.

An abrupt sound came from the door. Someone had just knocked.

His wife's face was unfazed; she remained immobile in the position she was before. The guards and the attendants also lacked to react to the sound, keeping their positions as if nothing had happened.

Thump, thump, thump.

For the second time, someone knocked at the door.

He seemed to be the only one in the room able to notice the sound. Unsure on how to react, he concluded that the presence shouldn't be kept waiting.

"Come in."

After he spoke, the door's handle moved. Even as the door slowly begun to open, no one seemed to perceive either the words he just said or the one entering the room.

Passing through the door was the presence. It was human in shape, and in shape only. He moved without producing any form of sound, not even the door had creaked while opening; his every action, even the simple act of slowly walking in a straight line, was unnaturally fluid. Looking at him was extremely difficult; his eyes couldn't focus on his figure for more than a couple of seconds, and whenever he blinked he seemed to vanish. It was wearing a cloak of pure darkness, he couldn't tell where it ended and where the shadow begun. On his face there was an empty white mask, lacking all features a visage would have.

Beholding the presence awoke once more fear in his soul, fear born from being in front of a completely inscrutable existence he couldn't even come close to comprehend; but his fear increased even further as he realized another fact. The presence wasn't alone.

Following it close behind was another figure. It had a feminine physique, thin and well proportioned. She was wearing a blood-red cloak covering the entirety of her body; with jewels far more beautiful than anything he had ever seen in his entire life. Unlike the presence she wasn't wearing a mask, but she kept her hood so low that it was impossible to see her face. In her right hand she held a long sceptre, decorated by many priceless gems and ending in seven symbols he could not recognize. In spite of his limited knowledge on the subject, he managed to recognize her as a wielder of divine power, a cleric.

If the presence was an inscrutable vortex of shadows and darkness that stroke fear and despair on everyone who could glimpse his figure, the woman was an incarnation of righteousness and nobility inspiring respect and devotion on all those who laid their eyes on her.

Standing in the presence of two existences beyond his comprehension, all he could do was to wait in silence for those superior beings to speak first.

"I take you have accepted the offer?"

The presence spoke to him with words voided of all emotions.

He had been thinking incessantly about it from the very moment he fist encountered the presence. Of all the paths his life could take, the only one not destroying his family was the one where he walked followed by the shadow.

He lowered his head to the two existences in front of him. In all his life, that was the first time he bowed to someone. If deference were the only thing that could save his family, deference he would choose.

"Save my son, and I will do everything you ask me."

The red-hooded figure moved her head to look at the presence, and then he answered.

"Very well."

At those words, the woman went toward his son's side. Alise, on the opposite side of the bed, didn't moved even as the unknown individual approached her son.

The woman spent a long moment looking at Ilward. For a second, Gerber's mind was crossed by a horrible thought. What if she wasn't able to heal his son? What if his condition was so advanced that he was beyond saving?

Terrorized by uncertainty in the final moments before discovering the fate of his family, he could do nothing but pray. He had never seen a god, only a couple of years before he didn't even knew what a god was, but he prayed.

In the territory he had lived his entire life, the dragon lord was the mightiest being who lived; humans offered him food and gold, and he allowed them to live in his land. But in the Slane theocracy were the gods the ones who ruled over everything, and in return for their power they only asked prayers. He had found it hard to believe someone would give so much for so little, but now that little was all he could give; and so he prayed to the god who was going to save his son.

The girl slowly moved one hand toward Ilward, in the dark of the room it almost seemed she was trembling.

With her next words, she turned the impossible into a reality.

"[Bestow blessing: Overwhelming vitality]."

Following the brief incantation, the power of the gods begun to flow through her body to her palm. Her hand was enveloped in an intense greenish light, so pure that for a brief moment it cast away the darkness of the room. Then, the light enveloped his son, covering him like a cocoon.

Shortly after, everything returned to normal. The cleric's hand was no longer enveloped in light, and the one covering his son had disappeared as well.

He looked at Ilward. His son's face was calm, but the large stain on his body hadn't disappeared.

"Your son is now under the effect of a spell."

He looked at the presence.

"It will cure him faster than any existing medicine, but still slowly enough to not arise suspicion."

Gerber looked at his son. Now that he was looking closer, colour already seemed to be returning to his face.

The woman in red moved three steps toward him.

"Rejoice. Your son will be cured by the time the sun rises."

Her words were… warm. He could sense the joy she was feeling simply through what she said. The contrast between the life bringer and the presence was as great as day and night.

He looked at his son, closed his eyes, gathered all the courage he could muster and faced the presence with his lead lowered.

"My son is saved. What do you wish me to do?"

The presence didn't answered immediately. It let some moments pass, moments in which he felt all his courage vanishing away. Then, it answered.

"Keep behaving the way you did. Refrain from doing anything suspicious. You will receive instructions after your son is fully cured."

Gerber raised his head, confusion on his face. Yet, the presence was no longer there. He immediately looked behind, and the life bringer was gone as well.

"Stay by your son's side tonight, be the first he sees when he open his eyes."

Though he couldn't see her, those kind words still reached him.

He looked once more at his son. With hope finally in his heart, he sat back on the chair and remained at his side.

"… Will he live?"

Those words marked the end of the unnatural silence that had arrived with the presence. He looked at his wife, oblivious of what had just happened in that room. With the first genuine smile of the last few months, he put his hand on her shoulder and answered the question she begun five minutes earlier.

"Yes."

Maybe she wasn't expecting the confidence behind his words, maybe she noticed the dramatic shift in his attitude, but she looked at him in the eyes and studied him.

"How can you be sure?"

Confusion and doubt were on her face, yet she didn't call him a liar. The faith backing his words had gotten through her months of desperation.

"I just know."

It was a weak answer, but she remained in silence. Alise kept studying him, trying to understand what made him change his attitude so much. In the end, her next words were equally simple.

"What should we do now?"

He sat beside her and caressed his son's hairs.

"We stay by his side and wait for him to open his eyes."


The two of them remained in silence at each other's side as they looked at the night sky. The sea of stars above them was a spectacle to be treasured in one's heart, something they couldn't have ever experienced had they remained in their world.

Standing on the city's highest roof, Izora looked at the fairy-tale-like location. The wooden windows were closing one after the other, leaving barely any light left in the streets. A few people were hasting to reach their homes, while small groups of guard patrolled the area with lanterns in their hands.

Tightening the grip on her sceptre, she looked at the one standing beside her. Even tough there was no way to see where he was looking at while he wore the mask, she was certain his eyes were on the sky.

Thankfully, he spoke before the silence could go on for too long.

"You saved his life, you should be proud."

Her lips formed a faint smile. She lowered the hood, finally showing her face once more.

"Thank you. I am glad I was able to save a life."

However, the smile on her face quickly vanished.

"But will he be alright?"

Raal's head moved away from the stars to face her.

"That child had been poisoned. The spell has already removed all traces, but I'm afraid whoever did it will try again."

Raal slowly walked a couple of steps away from the roof's border.

"I know."

There was no way he didn't. She had seen him use poison in every fight she managed to observe him, even low-levelled rogues would be able to discern if a status was caused by poison or other sources. It was also only natural for the poisoner to try again once he realized the first attempt had failed.

"Don't worry, I have already looked into it. The situation is already under control."

She allowed herself to take a sight of relief.

"Thank you."

Right after she uttered those words, a sound of large flapping wings came from above. When she raised her head in that direction, she saw an angel clad in golden full-plate armor flying toward them on pure white wings.

"I see your escort has arrived."

Izora looked at the assassin standing behind her.

"The concealment effect will wear down in about four minutes. Try to get outside the city by then."

With those words, a thick mantle of shadows enveloped Raal. When it dissipated immediately after, the assassin was nowhere to be seen.

Before she had time to ponder over how fast travel skills and teleportation effects were deeply tied to his playing style, Jehoel swiftly landed a couple of meters from her.

She couldn't help but to look around to check if anyone was there. Even though Raal had used the same concealment ability on him when he insisted in accompanying them, the sight of a flying angel wearing golden heavy armor was something that on an instinctive level was hard to ignore.

While she verified no one had noticed, Jehoel closed the few meters separating them walking with unusual speed.

"Lady Izora, are you hurt?"

His eyes moved quickly, searching her body for wounds or anything that could have harmed her.

She tried to reassure him with a calm voice.

"Don't worry, I'm fine."

Even if her role in a battle was primarily support, she was still a combatant. Each deity granted its worshiping divine casters benefits related to their domain; hence her [Living pantheon]'s ability to worship multiple gods was considered nearly unfair for the stacking benefits. Among the seven of them there were effects that made her immune to most debuffs. It was a sad supporter one who fell victim to the statuses he was tasked to remove.

"You see, Jehoel, I understood something today."

The paladin's full attention was on her. He had the expression of a student about to hear a life-changing lesson. However, now Izora felt that attitude wasn't completely out of place.

"We are here for a reason. We have these powers for a reason. We have a purpose."

She looked at the angel.

"Obtaining ultimate knowledge?" He guessed unsure of his own answer.

She smiled at him; then she turned her eyes back at the night sky.

"You don't understand, but it's fine even if you don't. Just know that whoever we will be fighting in the wars to come, I will protect both my comrades and the innocents of this world."

After uttering such declaration, she heard a metallic sound behind her.

Once she turned, she saw her angel kneeling before her.

"My lady, allow this servant of yours the honour to forever be by your side and protect you for all eternity."

She looked at him, kneeling like a knight would kneel to his queen.

She then walked toward him and, with a warm smile on her lips, softly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It would be my honour to spend the rest of my life with you."


As the two of them rapidly flew toward the flying castle one in the arms of the other, no other person was left on the roof.

Then, a crow in a nest way too small for him moved his head toward their direction. He cawed, and flew toward the next destination indicated by his master.