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"I'm not in the mood for this, the lot of you. I've been fooled! The knight got it all himself!"

Despite the swordsman's ranting, the orc sentries could care less, and went for him. Picking himself up to his feet, the scimitar in Doppelganger's hands flew in a frenzied manner, slaying the group of twelve orcs who entered. A horn sounded outside to alert the asleep sentries of a detection of hostility. Kneeling beside the dead Orc Hero, Doppelganger made another attempt to detect and seize the Trait, but the result was similar to previous attempts. Nothing of immense power was found in the Orc Hero's corpse, so that meant the Strength Trait was not in his possession.

That left the Orc Lord the only possible candidate. His suspicions must be confirmed. Another group of sentries charged into the tent, only to face an angry Doppelganger's wrath. A trail of dead orcs was strewn over the whole area. Then it occurred to him the reason Death went off beforehand during the attack on the two sentries earlier. He wanted to shake him off, and seize hold of the Trait solely. Damn it! We're supposed to share it, he thought as his fist clenched.

The phantom swordsman left the tent, and another larger group of orcs, this time warriors instead of sentries, went at him. They would only pose as a hindrance to waste his time. Maybe if he could get to where the Orc Lord was right now, he might be on time. Doppelganger eluded the orcs' grasp, darting past camps, dashing to the other direction where another prominent tent was found. He needed to have a talk with the Lord of Death…

Crossing his fingers along his way proved futile, for he found no sign of Death. Only three green corpse lying on the ground. Doppelganger recognized the larger orc as the Orc Lord, the main leader of the orc forces. Something about the lord was amiss. Doppelganger knew that he was killed not too long ago, but such a short time was not possible for the corpse to become… an empty husk. The once proud green skin was now looked decayed, and the eyes looked hollow, staring out blankly at nothing. The swordsman shouted a profanity. This was a sign that the body had been pillaged for a Trait.

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News of their lord's death turned the camp of the entire orc forces into a pandemonium. Several groups argued with each other, each declaring themselves as the next to ascend to the lord's position. As the discussions got heated up, some even got involved in fist-fights, everywhere else sounded with harsh guttural shouts. Even the commander of certain orc ranks were driven to their wits end, their efforts to disperse the fights were dismal.

One unfortunate commander actually received a vicious slug across his face for interfering an intense brawl. Hardly anyone bothered about the higher authorities and flew a punch at anyone they deemed unworthy, or those incapable to take over the Orc Lord's glorious title. Many took affront at this gesture, and joined in the fray.

It all stopped momentarily, when a cold, deep voice belonging to that of a superior echoed the camp. The voice alone seemed to threaten the very existence of them. A lone, but extraordinarily gargantuan knight rode into view. The silvery knight shimmered, glowing with radiance. In his hands held a great sword of similar emanation. A large rectangular shield with a cross carved on it provided him with a sturdy defence from any aggressor. Unwavering powers from the recently absorbed Strength Trait rippled within him, but his presence alone was enough to portray his might, warning those who oppose him to reconsider their actions.

"With the death of your lord, I will be the appropriate person of might who will lead this force."

Many orcs waved their axes and swords at him, as if to jest at him. Others recognized him as a superior, and began warning their brethrens to beware of their insults thrown at him.

"I see you deem me as yet another incapable candidate. Behold!"

The Lord of Death started his assault on the orcs, to both prove the orcs wrong and to demonstrate his Strength Trait. A score of orcs tackled the horse, hoping to fall the big knight. However, the steed was just as sturdy. Despite the orcs' raw strength, it took more than their brute powers to bring it down. Death merely slapped the flat of his sword at the nearest, single orc, and an astonishing sight beheld.

It was as if the sword had a ripple effect on the orcs. The orc who was struck practically disintegrated, the remaining force of the strike flinging nearby orcs to the rear of the whole army. The remaining orcs stood with mouths agape, most of them fearing the silver knight suddenly. Some marvelled at his ability to cause such an impact just by the tap of his sword, declaring him as their new lord openly. The rest readily agreed out of pure fear that they might end up just like the guinea pig.

"Commanders out there, rally whatever forces available," Death commanded strictly. "I personally give my word, your glory would prevail, or maybe even rise under your new lordship. Prove yourselves to be worthy, for your first tasks would be a hit-and-run on Prontera."

The commanders immediately stood out and knelt, saluting the Lord of Death.

"You," Death pointed to another commander who stood out. "Gather your forces and eliminate the possible alliances of Prontera. Now that Geffen is destroyed, that leaves you to march for St Caprina."

The orcs assembled orderly upon their commanders' command in orcish tongue, then began dishing out orders in detail. The orcish horns blared, and the forces began to march for their respective destinations…

Death stared at his sword, then at his hand. Even he could not believe the powers of the Strength Trait. He had not expected that particular orc to actually disintegrate into nothing, while that little "performance" granted him immediate control over the orc army. Extremely pleased at his new found power, he began to see himself outgrowing even Dark Lord and Baphomet combined. The other superiors' days were numbered…

Totally forgetting about Doppelganger in the midst of his contemplations, Death's mind went to the Prontera church, and the means to reduce it into a pile of rubble. But, now the problem was how to do it without entering Prontera…

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The blissful silence could only mean that he was in the church. Cerberus sat upright, looking for anyone familiar to him, for he wanted to find out the reason he was brought here. The other matter that got him tensed up was the two swords. He did not know if he brought it with him when Piffy and he escaped from Cranius's castle.

The knight leader of Avenger sighed in relieve when he caught a gleam of red and blue from the bench across where he sat. His headache rid off, Cerberus felt very weak. Wounds caused by the magical bolts had left ugly scars even though the priests had healed him of all his ailments. Thoughts of the swords eventually reminded him of the Talefing that enigmatic swordsman entrusted to him. He looked around him, but did not find any sign of the dark sword. Oh yeah, Cranius claimed it instead, Cerberus remembered. The knight was dressed simply, with all his equipments removed. This situation was very much like the time when he was locked in the Izlude prison, that's where the similarity ended. This time, whatever was removed from him lay beside him.

Streams of bright light filtered into the church when the double doors opened, a figure so familiar to him stepped in.

"Up already, I see?"

The alchemist, Piffy, took a seat beside the knight. He was rather short for a human, only slightly more than five feet. Like any other alchemists, his belt was entirely filled with potions. An axe was strapped to his back, but now it was gone. He had left back at the castle during their escape. Piffy ran a hand through his curly black hair, and caught a questioning gaze from his long time friend.

"Ah, yes. The priests are saying that your soul was tainted with waves of darkness and corruption. What exactly have you been doing, lad? They spent hours doing some kind of purification thing, not that I'm too sure of it. Well, I just left you to their care."

Cerberus's brows furrowed.

"I don't know… its all so confusing. I only remembered… yes the sword. I killed many, too many."

The alchemist almost laughed, but held himself.

"Aye, that was what led me to the castle! A path of corpse!"

"Won't this happen to Cranius, since he stole it?"

"Stole what?"

"The Talefing. That purple sword Cranius almost killed you with," Cerberus explained.

"And so it is. That thing doesn't look at all good. Your state gave me the hint, lad. But I think its not so bad since you slew that bastard's dogs!" Piffy said with a grin.

"Not so bad? Now they're hating me for this! More than ever!" the knight snapped.

Piffy was rather taken aback at his leader's response. He had never seen the knight so agitated about the subject on his hometown, which made him consider that he should choose his words carefully so as not to offend the sensitive knight. The alchemist suddenly recalled about the house when he was in Izlude.

"You're not at all blaming them the way you're treated?"

"I'm well aware that Cranius is the mastermind, and I'm aware of his frustrations –"

"Even though he's taking it out on her?" Piffy interjected.

This statement stirred the knight's emotions, as far as Piffy could tell. Cerberus took a deep breath to soothe himself, and tried to banish the marriage to the rear of his mind. This was of major distraction to him, Kera's welfare was what that haunted him every break of the day. Perhaps he should play by ear, and focus on the task of battling the four instead.

"These are really troubled times. Get yourself a weapon already, the four of them won't be delaying much longer. Its time I meddle in my own affairs, rather than her's,"

"I know you're thinking you might not see her for a long period of time, maybe never. Are you trying to stick your butt in only after Cranius goes mad?"

Piffy wanted to repeat when he saw the knight staring into blank space in a dazed fashion, but he was cut short.

"Back then, you disliked my visits to Izlude. Now you're wanting me to save the damsel in distress, yet you aided me out."

"That is why Avenger persisted. Your life had to come first," Piffy replied with a wink. "Well now, it feels so empty without the rest of them around. Feels really weird, but that ain't stopping me from defending this city, and that ain't stopping me from going axe-hunting."

The blissful silence of the church returned once more when Piffy left. Cerberus knew very well that the possession of the Talefing would execute the exact same effect on Cranius as he had experienced. It might be too late that Kera's life was going to be jeopardized, but he decided that a visit to Izlude after the battle against the four was a must. He laid down to recuperate, while groups of acolyte returned from their training session to prepare this evening's mass session. Yet, there was something beyond their knowledge and prediction that might turn a mass into a bloodshed, something dreadful that Cerberus would wake up to find himself defending against, and something was marching closer to Prontera…