Chapter 12: Berserker

The end of the month had come at last.

Konstantin had searched the book extensively, searching for the perfect spells to use for his assessment. As tempting as it was he was the more powerful magic, he had to pass those over- his skills advancing too drastically would raise far too many questions. So, he restrained himself, choosing only Ignite, and two others that would fall into the Augmentation family of magic, practicing them as much as he dared to between lectures. He couldn't know how effective they would be against an actual opponent, but if nothing else, mana would be of no concern; no matter which spell he used, how many times he used it consecutively, or the order in which his chosen spells were cast, he felt no strain whatsoever.

On the day of his assessment, Konstantin made his way to the academy's practice field. He expected that only the faculty would come to oversee his evaluation, and perhaps a few curious classmates, but it seemed that the entire academy had come to witness the spectacle. Then again, this was a rare occasion: the last desperate attempt of the absolute bottom-ranked student to keep his place in the institution. He even happened to see money changing hands between students. A small smile came to his face- anyone who had wagered against him would be sorely disappointed.

Miss Granat directed him to take his position within a circle marked on the field, at a line halfway between the center and the outer edge. Practical evaluations were handled very simply- force your opponent out of the circle, or otherwise incapacitate them to the point that they were unable to continue before they could do the same to you, and the evaluation would end in your favor.

A familiar red-haired boy was waiting at the starting point across from him. "You actually came," Rudolf said. "You should've just withdrawn and saved yourself the embarrassment. There's only one way this ends."

Konstantin didn't reply. Banter never suited him, though he was in agreement with Rudolf. There was only one way this duel would end. But it wasn't the way his opponent likely expected.

Rudolf's face contorted in anger. "You think you can look down on me!? You should remember your place!" He raised his arms. "Roiling fire within the earth, unleash unto my enemy the fury of Hell: Incinerate!"

The signal to begin hadn't yet been given. But Konstantin was ready. He stood his ground as the fireball Rudolf shot at him neared, before uttering a single word:

"Vundevo."

The fireball struck Konstantin, a massive torrent of flame washing over him. But he felt nothing. Not the impact of the explosion, nor the flames' heat. He felt nothing at all. But as the flames dissipated, Konstantin saw the satisfied grin on Rudolf's face change to an expression of shock, then anger. "Incinerate!" Another fireball flew from Rudolf's palm. But the second fireball was no more effective than the first, impacting Konstantin with no effect whatsoever. Even without its full incantation, Incinerate was a powerful spell capable of inflicting serious damage. But so long as Konstantin's own spell, Fortify, remained active, no spell could touch him.

Konstantin began to slowly walk across the circle toward Rudolf. Panicked, Rudolf shouted in a wavering voice, "I-I-Incinerate! Incinerate!" Two more fireballs flew from his hands,having no more effect than the first. But then, Rudolf raised one arm over his head. "O darkening cloud, loose thy blade and run mine enemies through: Thunder Lance!"

The storm clouds that formed as Rudolf spoke finally loosed a bolt of lightning. And Fortify was just about to run out. So Konstantin used the next spell in his arsenal.

"Yllamanyda."

All at once, the world slowed to a nearly imperceptible crawl. Everything, save for the bolt of lightning emerging from the dark clouds above Rudolf, slowly snaking down from the sky in a jagged, erratic line. Konstantin began to run toward Rudolf. Powerful as it was, Accelerate didn't last anywhere nearly as long as Fortify, and Thunder Lance had an extremely wide radius of effect. As fun as it was to have the upper hand for a change, it would only take a moment of carelessness on Konstantin's part to have the tables turned on him.

So, it was time to end this little game.

It took a few seconds for Konstantin to cross the dueling circle. But to Rudolf, he would have crossed that distance in the blink of an eye, and he began to recoil in surprise. But before he could pull away, Konstantin drew back his fist and struck Rudolf with all the strength he could muster. Then he pulled back his other first, and struck Rudolf again. Again and again, Konstantin struck with one fist, then the other, each blow striking harder than the last, his punches fueled by rage. Time and time again, he'd suffered one humiliation after another. Rudolf was far from his only tormentor, though of the ones who targeted him, he was the most frequent, and the cruelest.

But all of that would end today. Rudolf, his other tormentors… everyone would learn that he was no longer a victim to be trod on at their leisure.

Accelerate ended. The momentum from all of Konstantin's punches struck Rudolf all at once, and he was knocked back, spinning through the air before hitting the ground hard. Groaning, he struggled to rise. Konstantin had to admit, the sight of one of his tormentors lying at his feet was a pleasing one… but he wasn't finished yet. He strode up to Rudolph, a grin breaking across his face, before grabbing his opponent by the collar. With great effort, he lifted his opponent- the novels always made it seem so easy. But Konstantin managed, pulling Rudolf to his knees.

Blood poured from Rudolf's nose, and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut. He reached up, trying to pull Konstantin's hand away. "Wait… please…" But Konstantin had no intention of stopping. He knew that if their positions were reversed, Rudolph would show him no mercy.

So neither would he.

A wide grin on his face, Konstantin held up his free hand, and uttered a single word, before pressing it against Rudolf's face.

"Ekheda."

Rudolf screamed in pain as his flesh hissed and bubbled. But his screams only spurred Konstantin on, and he pressed his hand, swathed in flame, against his opponent's face even more firmly. Rudolf flailed, digging his fingernails into Konstantin's arm, before finally prying himself free and falling to the ground. But that didn't bother Konstantin. After all the insults, all the derision, all the defeats at Rudolf's hands, Konstantin finally had his vengeance. And the academy- the whole world would know Rudolf's shame.

As Rudolf writhed on the ground before him, Konstantin grinned again. "Tell me, Rudolf…" he began. "What hurts more? The burns, or the knowledge that I finally managed to beat you?"

But Rudolf did something unexpected. He sat up, and aiming his hand at Konstantin, shouted, "Dance in the wind: Air Thrust!"

A crescent of hardened air as sharp as a razor flew from Rudolf's palm. Konstantin tried to cast Fortify, but before the first syllable could leave his mouth, the wind blade struck him in the face, slicing deep into his left eye.

Konstantin staggered back, screeching in agony as he clutched his face. He felt as if a thousand red-hot nails were being driven into his eye socket. But in an instant, the burning of his wound was completely smothered by a burning rage in his chest. "You're gonna pay for that, you little bastard!" Konstantin shouted, before striding up to the still prone Rudolf. His opponent fired off another Air Thrust, which cut into his leg, but Konstantin was so enraged that he barely felt it as he stomped on Rudolf, pinning him against the ground, and aimed his palm at his enemy. "Now you're really gonna find out what it's like to burn! Cumyn-"

"Let my foe be bound by threads of darkness: Shadow Stitch!" All at once, Konstantin seized up as thin black threads wrapped around his body. A woman's voice then said harshly, "That… is quite enough, Mr. Konstantin."

Right. Konstantin had let himself get so worked up he forgot about the evaluation.

"Miss Granat…" he replied. "I trust my performance was to the dean's satisfaction?"

"Where did you learn such vile magics?" the elf woman asked.

"The academy library," he replied calmly. "I hope you'll forgive me for skipping ahead, though. We haven't covered the Augmentation family of spells in lecture yet."

"Augmentation?" Miss Granat sounded unconvinced.

"Yes," Konstantin replied confidently, before looking back to flash her a grin. "I guess you could say… I finally found my niche."

A pair of bees the size of cats flew towards Abel, their stingers aimed toward him. But Abel aimed his hand toward them and shouted, "Angel Fire!" The bees were swallowed up by the torrent of white flames that spewed from his palm, leaving nothing behind. But the buzzing in his ears didn't stop. He looked over his shoulder, to see that a third bee had circled behind him. Perhaps these insects weren't as mindless as he first thought. The bee lunged- Abel sidestepped, and sliced the oversized insect in half with a single swing of his sword.

But there was no time to relax. More bees surrounded him, along with other insects resembling massive cockroaches the size of a large dog- devil bugs. They had no stingers, but their bite was venomous, and their jaws strong enough to take off a finger in one bite.

There were too many, and they were spread too far apart for Angel Fire to be effective. Fortunately, he had a way to resolve this predicament. He concentrated, and a sphere of water began to condense around his hand. He then thrust his hand above his head.

"Aqua Vitae!"

The water sphere shot into the sky, before bursting, dousing all the insects surrounding Abel.

"That's it?" Charlotte asked from the sidelines. "All you did was make them wet." The Wyverns' second-in-command had finally had her fill of sulking, and had come to observe Abel. However, it seemed her impression of him had hardly improved since their first encounter.

Ordinarily, Aqua Vitae was only useful against the undead and monsters with a strong affinity for fire- as Charlotte said, it would thoroughly soak any other enemy, but that was all. …if Aqua Vitae had been the only spell Niel had taught him. Abel focused again- this time, tiny bolts of electricity began to arc between his fingers, before thrusting his hand at the closest of the oversized roaches.

"Spark Bolt!"

Bolts of lightning shot out of Abel's fingertips. They struck the roach- its side instantly burst open, spewing foul black liquid over the brick road as it curled up, smoldering. But the electricity continued on, arcing between the insects surrounding him. Some shriveled up and smoldered. Others instantly burst open, spilling their insides. By the end, only one enemy was left standing: one of the enormous bees. Undaunted, it flew at Abel. But Abel stood his ground, and with a final swing, cleaved the bee in two.

Abel looked around to ensure all his opponents were dead, breathing heavily. Ordinarily, Spark Bolt could only affect a single target, but dousing all his enemies in water drew the spell toward them. It came at a cost, however- while both Aqua Vitae and Spark Bolt weren't especially taxing individually, using one after the other sapped Abel of his strength. But fortunately, the new spell had done its job, and he alone remained standing.

The air was then filled with the sound of a single person clapping. "Good job Abel!"

"Looks like you have a good handle on those new spells I taught you," Niel added.

Charlotte scoffed. "Please. Devil bugs and killer bees? Children can slay them."

"Agreed," Shirley Brell said, before turning to Vivienne. "Bring out something a little tougher, Viv." The masked woman nodded, before holding out her arms, one hand placed behind the other, and the corpses of the monsters Abel had slain began to dissolve, as though made of mist.

As it turned out, Vivienne was a mage, specialized in illusion magic. But she wasn't limited to merely causing hallucinations in others- she could cast her magic over a wide area, causing all within it to see whatever she willed them to. Things such as monsters. And as Abel soon discovered, fighting these ephemeral beasts served as excellent training, and a perfect opportunity for the Wyverns to observe his abilities in a relatively safe setting. Although the monsters Vivienne summoned faded to nothing once she ended her spell, until then they were indistinguishable from the real thing… up to and including the wounds they left on Abel's body when they struck.

Shirley Brell then said firmly, "Begin."

A new monster appeared before Abel, as if knitted into existence by invisible needles. There was only one, but it was huge, and unlike any he had seen before: its chest looked like a person's, but it had a bull's head, a satyr's legs, and massive, muscular arms that were longer than Abel was tall. It snorted and shook its head, before letting out an angry bellow and charging with its head lowered. Abel immediately darted to the side with his wings- the bull-man skidded to a stop, before it swaggered to Abel, walking on its knuckles. When it was close enough, it drew back an arm to prepare a mighty punch, but Abel pointed his free hand toward the beast. "Angel Fire!"

As white flames gushed from Abel's palm, the bull-man recoiled, raising an arm to shield itself, giving Abel an opening. He rushed forward, swinging his sword at the bull-man's other arm. But his blade sank less than a finger's width into the beast's skin. Then, the bull-man shoved Abel back, causing him to let go of his sword, lose balance and fall. As he scrambled to his feet, Abel saw the bull-man pluck his sword out of his skin with two fingers before tossing it aside.

The monster's skin was too tough to cut through, and Angel Fire didn't seem to have much effect. But perhaps its legs would be more vulnerable. First though, Abel would have to get his sword back. The bull-man shook itself as it prepared for another charge. But Abel was ready. As soon as the beast began its charge, Abel's wings ignited, and he darted to where his sword had fallen, keeping low. He snatched up his blade, and immediately raced back to the beast before it could turn around. He swung again with all his strength, and with his momentum, the blade cut through one of the bull-man's sticklike legs. The beast bellowed in anger and pain, spun on one hand, extending its other arm in a wide sweep. The blow knocked Abel flat on his back, his sword flying from his hand, and the last thing he saw was the bull-man lifting its fists to crush him.

But as it's fists began to fall, the bull-man suddenly froze. After taking several, shaking breaths, Abel climbed back to his feet. "Sorry kid," Julia called, "but if that had been a real minotaur, you'd be red paste right now. Good try though."

"Hey what the hell, you can't just throw a minotaur at Abel like that out of nowhere!" Raine shouted in protest.

"Part of this assessment is to gauge Abel's ability to respond to unexpected developments," Shirley Brell replied. "It's not unusual to encounter monsters outside of their normal habitats, or mutated variants that are much stronger than normal." She then looked to Abel. "If I may give you some advice, Abel, you should target a minotaur's arms over its legs. Aside from depriving them of the ability to grasp things, minotaurs has fairly weak legs, and rely heavily on their arms to maintain their balance."

Now that the commander had mentioned it, Abel realized that outside of charging, the bull-man had always kept at least one hand on the ground. Armed with this new information, he then said, "Let me fight that thing again."

"I'm afraid not," Shirley Brell replied. "We have other enemies you must face."

"Just give me one more try!" Abel insisted. "I know I can beat it now that I know what to do."

The commander sighed. "…if you insist. Viv, reset positions."

The minotaur vanished, before reappearing just in front of Vivienne, fully intact. As before, it shook its head and bellowed, before charging. But Abel was ready. As it neared, he called forth his sword of light, and slashed at the bull-man's arm. This time, his blade cut right through the minotaur's flesh, and it collapsed mid-charge, sliding over the ground. Before it could rise, Abel ran to the fallen beast, and jumped- his wings giving him an extra boost- before plunging the glowing sword into its skull. The minotaur bellowed in pain and thrashed it's head, throwing Abel off. But he had struck a fatal blow- as Abel rose, the bull-man struggled to do the same as it pushed up with its remaining arm, before letting out one last bellow, and collapsed, the earth shaking from its fall.

This time, both Holly and Raine cheered. "Yeah! That's how you do it, Blue!"

"So you can learn from your mistakes…" Charlotte said, in a decidedly unimpressed tone. "But remember, there is no such thing as a second chance on the battlefield."

"Nicely done," Shirley Brell then said. "However, most minotaurs are intelligent enough to craft rudimentary weapons for themselves, and rarely charge with them unless fully enraged." She then looked to Vivienne. "Viv, bring out the next wave."

Vivienne nodded, and Abel raised his sword as a new group of monsters appeared before him.

"…You know, I never cared all that much about illusion magic," Raine began. "But I'm thinking I should look into it a bit more."

"No doubt so you can act out some lewd fantasy of yours…" Niel mumbled.

Unfortunately, the angel wasn't quiet enough to escape being overheard. "Hey lay off, Parrot. If you were me, you would do the things that I do."

"Well, I'm not you. Something I'm very thankful for."

Abel's companions chatted idly among themselves as they made their way back to town. Abel had faced six rounds of monsters in all- some he recognized, but many others were unknown to him, the most notable of which was the beast that gave Wyvern Company its namesake. Surprisingly, he bested it, only to fall against the next group of monsters: a dozen or so diminutive, green-skinned, human-shaped creatures Shirley called "goblins."

"Commander Brell," Lailah suddenly said. "What would you say about Abel's assessment so far?" Abel couldn't deny that that same question had been on his mind as well, but being the subject of the assessment, he was unsure if it was his place to ask before it was over.

"It's difficult to say…" Shirley Brell replied, as the group passed through Fueno's gates. "Abel seems capable of holding his own against simple monsters, but falters against more intelligent species. There's also the question of the powers granted to him through the angel's blood. I'm not certain if he should focus on cultivating a more traditional skillset, or focus…" The commander suddenly trailed off, before turning to face something, asking sternly, "Is there something I can help you with?"

The sudden shift in Shirley Brell's temperament took Abel by surprise, but by following her gaze, he discovered the cause: someone was standing by the town gate, staring intently at the group with unblinking eyes. Someone Abel knew.

And as soon as Fiann laid eyes on him, she smiled, put her hands on her chest, and hurried to his side. She smiled as she held up her journal, which already had something written inside:

[I was waiting for you.]

Abel couldn't help but find something… off-putting about Fiann's smile. But for courtesy's sake, he put those feeling aside. "Sorry. I was doing some training outside of town. You weren't waiting here long, we're you?"

Fiann didn't give an answer, instead looking to each of Abel's companions, and the members of Wyvern Company with an intense frown. She quickly scrawled, [Who are all these women?]

"These are my friends," Abel replied. "Well, some of them. The others are with the Church."

"You know this woman?" Shirley Brell asked. She was tense, as if she could sense that something was off about Fiann.

"Why isn't she saying anything?" Holly asked as well, also visibly tense.

"This is Fiann," Abel replied. "She's a musician I helped the other day. And she has a huge scar on her neck, so she can't talk." He looked back to Fiann. "Anyway, how have you been? That guy hasn't given you any more problems, has he?"

Fiann wrote quickly, her letters sharp and bold. [Georg won't be a problem anymore.]

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. That instrument I bought for you was really expensive, so it'd be a shame if he smashed it too." Abel then moved away from the bard. "Anyway, I have something I need to do. I'll see you later." That wasn't entirely a lie- Abel and the others hadn't checked on how the replenishment of the Princess Louvia II's stores was progressing. But Abel was much more interested in escaping the awkward atmosphere that had settled on Fiann the moment she saw the others.

Fiann frowned again, tilting her head. [Will you be leaving soon?]

"Um… maybe? Our ship is refilling its stores right now. Hopefully, it won't take too much longer." Abel began to back away from Fiann further. "Anyway… it was good to see you again. I'm glad you're still doing alright." And the young man scurried away before the bard could write any more messages in her journal.

Abel breathed a sigh of relief once he was back with the others. But almost immediately, a strange sensation overcame him- he felt as though someone was staring at him. He looked around, thinking it was Fiann again, but rather, it was Raine, looking at Abel with an odd smile on her face. "…what?" he asked after several moments. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The odd smile never left Raine's face. "Blue, you playboy! You can't just go around seducing women behind our backs!"

"I didn't seduce her!" he protested. "She needed help, so I helped her."

"Eh, seduce, rescue… there's not much difference between them for Heroes."

I didn't rescue her, either, is what Abel was about to say, but Charlotte cut him off: " I don't trust that woman. You should keep your distance from her, boy."

"Huh? Why?" Julia asked. "I mean yeah, she seems kinda weird, but isn't that normal for bards?"

"You saw the look in her eyes, didn't you?" Charlotte asked in turn. "I've never seen a bard with eyes like those." She glanced back over her shoulder briefly. "…They're the eyes of a killer."

A killer? It was true that Fiann's eyes were dull and lifeless when he first met her, but Abel thought it was due to circumstance. He'd seen a spark in them as he spoke to her… a spark that seemed to vanish the moment she turned her attention toward anyone else, he noticed. And she'd said that man wouldn't be a problem anymore. He assumed it was because he accepted Fiann's payment , but… had she done something to him? Was Charlotte being overly hostile, or had he misread Fiann entirely?

As the group made their way back to the safehouse, all Abel could do was hope he hadn't made a terrible mistake.

After Abel had departed, Fiann had retreated to an alleyway between two buildings, out of sight, biting her thumb so hard she drew blood.

Whores.

All whores.

Every last one of those women were whores. How could they stand so close to him so casually? She didn't blame Abel, of course- Mab take anyone who dared to think that he was at fault. Those with gentle natures were simply easily swayed, especially by those deliberately seeking to exploit them. But what she'd seen only further convinced her that he was worthy of protection, and that she would be his safeguard.

But how would she convince him? She couldn't approach this the same way she had with Georg. Whores though they may have been, Fiann could sense that many among them were highly skilled- that, more than their numbers, tilted the odds against her. As much as it pained her, she couldn't act just yet. She would have to observe them before making her move. She despised the thought of having to stand by while those whores had their way with Abel, but she had no choice- any missteps would end in her death, or worse yet, with Abel pushing her away. And she didn't dare risk that.

He had to be protected.

She had to keep him safe.

She was the only one who could.

Although the creature standing before Abel had a human shape, that was the only thing human about it. Its skin was an ashen grey; its upturned, piglike nose was nearly squashed flat against its face; long, tusklike fangs jutted out from beneath its lower lip; and it stood tall enough that most men would only reach its shoulder standing next to it. The pig-man was clad in crude leather armor, brandishing a long, roughly-made sword. It didn't speak when it saw Abel- it merely let out a fierce roar, and charged with its sword raised.

Abel raised his own sword to block the pig-man's strike, his arms shaking violently from the impact- clearly it's muscles weren't just for show. As he stumbled back, the pig-man reared back for another swing. But seeing an opening, Abel lunged forward, circling behind his foe and striking at its knee. His strike made the pig-man stumble… but its skin was thicker than Abel expected, and he left behind no wound. The pig-man swung its blade behind him blindly, forcing Abel to retreat beyond the beast's reach.

After the observation she made during Abel's assessment the day before, Shirley Brell decided that he should face more intelligent monster species. However, the day's assessment came with two additional caveats: first, Abel could not use the powers Niel's blood gave him, meaning he would have to defeat his enemies with his sword and his wits. This made what would have otherwise been a trivial encounter far more difficult. And second, due to having to contact her superiors in Lescatie, Shirley Brell was not overseeing Abel's assessment. Instead, he was placed under the far more critical eye of the Wyverns' second-in-command, Charlotte.

The pig-man was back on his feet, and seem to take umbrage with being forced to his knees, as he charged Abel with unexpected ferocity, arms drawn back for a powerful horizontal swing. Abel ducked under his wing however, and the pig-man stumbled, thrown off balance by his own attack. Whether it was because Vivienne had deliberately given him an opening, or species has no ability to restrain itself, Abel couldn't say. But whatever the cost, he took advantage of the monsters moment of vulnerability, drawing back his sword and stabbing it into the pig-man's knee.

Abel's blade sank into the pig-man's knee a fair amount. But before he could withdraw it, the pig-man grabbed Abel's wrists, and yanked him forward, causing him to stumble, then fall. He scrambled to his feet just in time to see the pig-man doing the same, drawing Abel's sword from his leg. It turned his way, and began striding toward Abel, sword in each hand…

…before Charlotte called out, "Enough, Vivienne. It's over." The pig-man froze midstep, before dissolving as if made of mist, Abel's sword laying on the ground where it had stood.

"What!?" Raine shouted in protest. "You're just gonna end it there!?"

"The battle was decided the moment Abel lost his weapon," the lieutenant replied. "Without specialized training, attempting to fight monsters with one's bare hands is ill-advised." She then turned to Abel. "And you. Are you truly so helpless without the angel's power to support you? Perhaps she is Bacchus's true Champion."

"Okay, that's enough," Seth said, stepping toward Charlotte. "At least the commander gave Abel advice. You're just belittling him."

Charlotte folded her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed at the thief. "Every enemy the boy will face will come at him with the full intention of taking his life. They will not wait for him to prepare himself, nor grant him a moment of recovery should he falter." Her eyes turned to Abel. "If he is frail enough that mere words can wound him, then I fear his quest will be a very short one."

Seth gritted her teeth. "Alright. How would you have defeated that black orc then?"

"Seth-" Abel began.

But Charlotte removed her glasses, and replied, "I would gladly oblige you with a demonstration. Vivienne?"

Vivienne nodded and held out her hands, another grey-skinned pig-man appearing, as if stepping through a thick mist. It let out an enraged roar and charged, raising its sword. Charlotte stood her ground until the beast was in striking range. Then… well, Abel wasn't quite sure. All of a sudden, Charlotte stood with her sword drawn- he hadn't seen her swing. He hadn't even seen her draw her blade. Charlotte then turned her back to the pig-man, calmly sheathing her sword as the beast fell, neatly cut into two halves. Sliding her glasses back onto her face, she asked "…Will that suffice? Or is a second demonstration needed?"

Seth glared at Charlotte with her arms folded over her chest. "You claim Abel's weak because of his reliance on Niel's blood. But you didn't get to where you are now using your own strength, either. Take away the blessing of Ares, and what are you then?"

Charlotte's reply was as blunt as a blow to the head. "A knight of the Church, and descendent of a line of Heroes who defeated two previous Overlords and were instrumental in the defeat of four others."

"So your lineage makes you better than Abel?"

"My knowledge and experience are what make me superior." Charlotte tilted her head. "And you are the last person with any authority to judge anyone based on their lineage… Miss Bell Vargo."

"Don't you dare call me that!" In an instant, Seth had drawn her bow and an arrow, taking aim at Charlotte, and fired.

But in the blink of an eye, Charlotte had drawn her sword, and deflected the arrow. "You need to keep your pets on a tighter leash, boy," she said coldly, her fierce gaze fixed on Seth.

There was an immediate uproar among both the remaining Wyverns and Abel's companions, who put themselves between the two. Before he even realized it, Abel moved in front of Seth as she readied another arrow, directly into her line of fire. "What do you think you're doing!?" he demanded.

Seth shifted her aim, but did not lower her bow, nor slacken its string, her eyes never leaving Charlotte even for a moment. "I will not be judged by the actions of that man," she said coldly. "His crimes are his own. No one else's." She glanced at Abel. "And I won't stand back and let that woman look down at you. You did more for the Farm than her Church ever has."

Charlotte stood, gripping her sword with both hands, holding it low and to her right. But even with so many people between her and Seth, she did not relax. "You shouldn't be so quick to raise a weapon against a knight of the Church," she said coldly. Then, she finally returned the blade to its sheath, though one hand remained on the hilt. "…Still, you didn't hesitate. Not even for a moment. You fired at me with the full intention of taking my life. I can respect resolve such as yours." Her eyes turned to Abel. "You could stand to learn from her example."

Seth finally lowered her bow, but her glare never wavered.

Charlotte turned her back to Abel and Seth. "Vivienne, prepare the next opponent," she ordered.

Abel was still reeling from what he'd just seen. As much as he appreciated Seth coming to his defense, he already had enough enemies in the Church. It wouldn't do him any favors to add to that list. But before he could dwell on that further, a new creature appeared before Vivienne: it resembled a woman with blonde hair and pointed ears, but rather than legs, she had the body of a snake below her waist, holding a three-pronged spear in her hands. Abel raised his sword, trying to brace himself for whatever this snake-woman might have in store for him.

"So, did you have a bath like this one in your house?" Holly asked, her voice floating over the wall dividing the men's and women's baths.

"We did…" Seth replied. "But just a small one for private use. Vargo didn't actually like bathhouses that much."

"Let me guess…" Raine began. "He didn't like having to mingle with the common masses?"

"A bit on the nose for a guess, don't you think?" Niel asked.

"Those self-made types are all the same," Raine replied. "After they're successful for long enough, they start pretending that they were never part of the common rabble, and that they just sprang up out of the ground one day exactly as they are now, status and all…"

Abel sighed as he listened to his companions- excluding Lailah- banter in the women's bath. He had no more success against the opponents he faced in today's session than he had against the pig-man- either they were too fast to avoid without his wings, or they were strong enough to shrug off his attacks without magic to weaken them first. Abel was surprised by how dependent he had become on the power Niel's blood had given him, and how quickly. Perhaps Shirley Brell's observation that he should develop a more traditional skillset wasn't entirely without merit.

There was some good news at least: Captain Baird had finally finished filling the Princess Louvia's stores, and was ready to sell on to Aglis. The news came as a welcome relief to Abel- the sooner they were underway, the sooner he could put all this assessment business out of his mind. And perhaps, if he crossed paths with the Wyverns again with a bit of experience under his belt, he might fare a little better.

It was still relatively early in the day, so the baths were empty of visitors. Thus, the sound of the door at the entrance sliding open caught Abel's attention. But he wasn't prepared for who was standing on the other side. "Huh. You actually came this time," Julia said, clad in nothing more than a white towel that she held against her body.

Abel could only stammer in shock, sinking into the water to make himself less visible. But it seemed he'd said something inteligible, because she continued, "I figured you might be lonely hanging out by yourself. You are the only guy in your group." Julia then approached the bath. "Anyway, I was hoping to talk to you for a little while."

Julia let go of her towel. Abel squeaked and turned away, covering his eyes. Why in the world was she naked in front of someone she barely knew? Or was this normal, and the women of Seles unusual for their reservedness? But then, Abel heard Julia laugh, and say, "You know, most boys your age would be excited to see a woman strip. But I'm sorry to say, I'm not actually naked." Hesitantly, Abel peeked out from between his fingers- she was still clothed in that strange black top and underwear, with only her skirt missing.

"So, do you think of my swimsuit?" Julia asked. "They're really popular back in Proserpina." She then cocked her hips to the side, and slipped her hands behind her head. "Pretty sexy, don't you think?"

A… very particular part of Abel's anatomy reacted, and he had to turn away. He wasn't sure if he would have preferred if Julia had been naked. Her "swimsuit" looked so flimsy… and it barely covered anything. There was no way someone would wear it willingly. At least, not unless they were some kind of deviant. How can you wear something like that? is what he tried to ask, but what actually left his mouth was, "…h… haah… canyo… were…"

Julia slid into the water next to Abel. "When I was training under my old master, she said there were two things you should always watch when facing an enemy. Their hips will tell you where they're going, and their eyes will tell you what their target is. And let me tell you, wearing this, my enemies were definitely watching two things, alright. Just not either of the things I mentioned."

A diversion. At the very least, Abel couldn't deny its effectiveness.

Julia leaned back, stretching her arms across the rim of the bath. "Anyway, if you're worried about what Charlotte said, don't be. She doesn't mean anything by it."

Abel couldn't deny hearing that was a bit hard to believe. Nearly every word Charlotte spoke to him seemed tinged with venom, as if she saw him as her very worst enemy. And that had been before her exchange with Seth. "Could've fooled me…" he mumbled, watching steam rise from the water in front of him. His words were much easier to find when Julia was outside his view.

"We have a pretty stressful job as it is, but she's dealing with some personal issues on top of that." Julia shifted, and Abel tried very hard to not notice as two specific parts of her body floated in the water. "Her father passed not long ago, and since her older sister ran away from home a few years ago, her mom's pushing her to come back home and step up as the next family heir." Julia leaned back. "Hah, nobles. …Well, I'm a noble, too, so it's not like I have any room to talk."

Abel didn't reply. It seemed hard to believe that Julia had come all this way merely to tease him and apologize on her comrade's behalf. And after a few moments, his instinct proved correct:

"Anyway, there's something else that's been bothering me. You seem kinda jittery around the Commander. Now, I've met a lot of guys who get insecure when they meet a woman stronger than them, but I can tell this isn't a masculine pride thing." Julia looked over to him. "You've actually afraid of Shirley, aren't you?"

Abel sighed again. Did Niel's blood somehow project his fears into the minds of others? It was the only reason he could think of as to how others could discern what troubled him with such unfailing accuracy. "It…" he finally began. "…Commander Brell… she looks a lot like Mas- …someone I know."

"Judging by how you freeze up, I'm guessing it's someone you're not on good terms with." One of Julia's knees emerged from the water as she crossed one leg over the other.

Abel certainly couldn't deny that. He'd run away from Seles just to get away from Master Rachel, and he'd almost been killed for it. But… why was he telling Julia this? These were things he hadn't shared with anyone- not even Niel, or Lailah.

Julia leaned back, looking up to the sky. "Well, I won't pry if you don't wanna talk about it. Everyone's got something in their past that they would prefer stayed there. Just don't forget that whatever this person did to you, she isn't Shirley. And Shirley's a knight of the Church. She swore an oath to protect the innocent. We all did. Some of us just have a little bit of trouble remembering that." Julia's gaze turned back to Abel. "Anyway, as long as I'm bending your ear, can I ask you something?"

"Uh… s-sure," Abel replied.

"Which one is your type?"

"Huh, type? What do you mean?"

"Your type!" Julia repeated, as if the answer to her question was painfully obvious. "The kind of girl you like! Is it the redhead with the squinty eyes? It is, isn't it?"

Abel retreated a little. "Are you talking about Raine? I… I haven't-"

But Julia closed the distance. "Oh? Then is it the Vargo girl? Or maybe that mercenary girl with the huge tits? The priestess? …the angel?"

"I-I-I-I…" Abel again tried to retreat. But he didn't get far. Julia swung one leg over him, straddling him and pinning him in place.

"Or… could it be that you've never laid with a woman before?" she asked in a low voice. Abel shuddered- her voice ran through his ears like a length of silk. "If that's the case, then maybe I should…" She leaned in, pressing her chest against his. "…snatch you up for myself."

Words completely failed Abel. All that emerged from his throat was a long, pained squeak. He shivered in spite of the heat of the bath. Her skin was soft.

…oh god she smelled really nice.

Julia began to shudder. Then, she pulled away, laughing. Wiping a few tears from her eyes, she said. "Hahaha, oh, oh I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't tease, but your reactions were just too cute." She learned back, putting her hands on Abel's shoulders. "In all seriousness though, I wouldn't mind taking you for a roll at the Temple of Eros sometime. Maybe several, if you're up for it."

"Giiih…" Abel was having trouble finding his words again. Julia was still straddling him, and parts of her were rubbing against a very specific part of him.

But then, she climbed off of Abel, and out of the water, to his simultaneous relief and disappointment. "Well, that can wait until after you get a bit of experience below the belt, if you catch my meaning." Julia began drying herself- Abel couldn't help but feel that the Wyvern was using the opportunity to tease him some more by showing off her body. "You know," she said, "you don't need to be so tense. You should loosen up, enjoy yourself more. I mean, hasn't anyone hit on you before?"

Abel still hadn't quite found his words, still feeling Julia pressing against him, so he merely shook his head in reply. He had never experienced anything like that before in his life. The only thing that came remotely close was Raine's teasing, but this was on an entirely different scale.

Julia looked over to Abel in disbelief. "Really?" she asked "You've never been flirted with? I mean, you're a little skinny but you're got a cute face. Did you grow up in a town without any women in it?"

The sensation was finally fading, letting Abel get a grasp on his words again. "There were women there."

"How many?"

Abel held up two fingers. "…This many."

Several long moments passed in silence, before Julia asked, even more incredulously, "…Are you shitting me!?"

Fiann watched.

Fiann waited.

Fiann watched, and she waited.

And as she watched, and as she waited, the rage in her heart intensified second by second as she observed Abel's routine.

First, the whores brought Abel outside the town. She was confused when he drew his sword and began swinging it at nothing, only to be further perplexed when one of the whores began belittling his skill, as if he had been fighting foes only they could see. The whores were not all of one mind, however- a few came to Abel's defense, others mediated, and still others did not intervene at all. Then, after they were seemingly finished with… whatever Abel was meant to be doing, the group returned to town and parted ways. Abel accompanied some of the whores to… a bathhouse. It took every grain of willpower Fiann could draw upon to stop herself from storming in after the whores and tearing out their lying throats with her bare fingers- she knew full well what men and women did together in places like those.

But what Fiann saw seemed to make no sense. At first, she thought that was the point- that the whores were trying to disorient and confuse Abel, to make him more pliant to their fiendish designs. But them, she recalled one of the whores mentioning an "assessment." Whatever they were doing, it was apparently some kind of test.

And that gave Fiann an idea.

Whatever trials the whores had in store for Abel, she could face them in his stead. She would prove herself to be a worthy sword and shield, and surely, Abel would be so impressed by her ability and so grateful for her aid that she would bring her into his company. The whores would present a problem, of course, but they could be dealt with later. Entering Abel's good graces was what was truly important- once she had that, everything else would follow.

And with Fiann at his side, Abel would never need to raise a blade for himself ever again.

The dawn of Abel's final day in Fueno came. Raine and Holly were disappointed, but as Seth had succinctly stated, they had come to Fueno for a specific purpose, and now that purpose had been fulfilled. Abel shared her sentiment, though for different reasons- in spite of Julia's assurances, the moment he and the Wyverns parted ways couldn't come soon enough.

Speaking of the Wyverns, Shirley Brell had brought Abel outside of town for one final assessment, under the watchful eyes of her entire company and all of Abel's companions. The commander would be returning to her original plan of having Abel duel another member of her unit; and in this case, he would be facing the armorclad Giselle. Though she had observed Abel's other assessments, she was an utter enigma to him- she seemed to vanish the moment they returned to town, and not once had Abel seen her remove so much as a single gauntlet. All Abel could say about Giselle was that she was strong… mostly because of the enormous sword she held in her hands. The blade alone was longer than she was tall, widening from a thin point until it was as wide as the length between Abel's elbow and fingertips by the hilt. The sword looked as though it would take at least two men to carry- likely more- but Giselle held the blade with steady hands, as if it weighed nothing at all.

"Begin," Shirley Brell commanded.

The armored figure began to slowly- very slowly- run at Abel. Abel held his ground, fearing Giselle's slow speed was some sort of feint to lure him into a reckless charge. But it seemed whatever else Giselle may have been, she most certainly wasn't fast- it took several seconds for her to close the distance between herself and Abel, raising her sword for a powerful, but very obvious overhead swing. Abel easily sidestepped the blade as it fell- the ground shook from its impact, and the blade left a deep gouge in the brick road.

Abel couldn't help but feel a little insulted. Giselle's strength was genuine, but with her slow speed and obvious- even to him- openings, she didn't seem to pose much of a challenge. Did Shirley tell her to hold back? Was she holding back of her own accord? Or was she some sort of specialist, trained to hunt only certain monster species at the expense of other foes? Some of the crew of the Louvia had mentioned these so-called "Slayers;" people who cast away their identities, donning heavy armor to completely conceal their former selves, and dedicated themselves entirely to extermination of a specific monster type.

Could Giselle be one of them?

Giselle then spun, swinging her massive sword in a wide horizontal arc. Abel hastily retreated outside her reach- lack of speed and tells aside, she was still strong enough that she could easily cleave him in two without meaning to if he was careless. Before she could ready another swing, Abel rushed at her, swinging his own sword. But the blade rebounded off her armor, the scratch it left behind quickly becoming lost among countless others. And before he could retreat, Giselle lunged at Abel, dropping her blade. She grabbed his arm, then his waist, and with terrifying ease, she lifted him over her head, before tossing him away. Abel hit the ground hard, his ankle popping loudly from the impact- when he tried to stand, pain flared through his ankle, and he collapsed as his leg refused to support his weight.

As Giselle picked up her sword, Abel placed his hands over his ankle. But before he could mend his injury, something rushed past him. A woman, with dark green hair, a lute made of dark red wood strapped to her back. A gleaming axe in her hand, Fiann swung wildly at Giselle; the armored figure raised her blade to guard herself, but Fiann cut straight through the blade as if it hadn't been there at all. Giselle tried to retreat, but she was too slow, and Fiann too fast; the air filled with scraping sounds as Fiann sliced deep gouges into Giselle's armor.

Then, with one final strike across the breastplate, Giselle's armor fell away, leaving her in only a padded, dark grey suit. With another swing, her helmet was split in two, exposing her face: blue eyes, delicate features, golden hair tied into a short braid. Giselle's hands shot up to cover her face, but she stumbled, and fell back as Fiann slowly advanced toward her.

Then, in seemingly less than a second, Fiann was surrounded by Charlotte, Julia, and Shirley Brell, all with their weapons drawn and aimed at the bard. With a dagger clutched in each hand, the commander demanded in an angry voice, "Identify yourself."

Fiann didn't answer. Her gaze turned to each of the Wyverns, before she lifted her axe, pointing the blade toward Charlotte.

"Are you challenging me to a duel?" Charlotte asked, as Giselle scrambled to crawl outside the ring her comrades had formed around Fiann. "Is that what this is about?" She then glanced to the others. They seemingly understood, because Julia and Shirley backed away, but kept their weapons drawn. Charlotte then lowered herself, drawing her sword back. "Alright then. If a duel is what you want… then allow me to indulge you!"

Charlotte lunged at Fiann, splitting into three- as with Abel, one of Charlotte's duplicates was poised to strike from above, the second with a horizontal swing, and the last from below with an upward swing. But Fiann thrust out her free hand and seized the copy of Charlotte on her left by the wrist, causing the other two to vanish. She then swung Charlotte over her head, slamming her against the ground behind her- the swordswoman cried out in pain, her blade slipping from her grasp and skittering across the road.

Fiann turned to face her fallen opponent. But before she could act, Julia and Shirley rushed her- Julia from the rear with a sweeping kick, and Shirley from the front, thrusting one of her daggers. But as if she had seen the future, Fiann ducked, Julia's kick passing right over her and striking Shirley's side instead. The strike knocked Shirley off her feet, and she slid over the ground, coughing as she struggled to rise. "You're gonna pay for that!" Julia spun, winding up a punch that looked strong enough to break through a boulder- when she struck Fiann's chest, the brick beneath the bard's feet cracked… but she remained standing. Julia recoiled, shaking her hand- but before she could retreat, Fiann reached out, grabbed her by the shoulder, and pulled her back, slamming her forehead against Julia's. Soundlessly, Julia crumpled to the ground.

Then, from her left, a creature with a wolf's head and a man's body bounded up to Fiann, and raked its claws across her side. The creature was strange- bluish, and transparent, like a ghost, but the gouges it left behind with its claws were undeniably real. But Fiann didn't react to her wounds at all as she grabbed the wolf-man's snout, forcing it to its knees as she wrenched its jaws open. The wolf-man scratched at her wildly, but Fiann held firm, the beast's angry growls quickly transforming into frantic, pained whines; then, the air filled with a final, sickening tearing sound as Fiann ripped the wolf-man's torso in two, the two halves curling over like sheets of old parchment, before it began to dissolve as if made of mist. With dead eyes, Fiann then looked in the direction the wolf-man had come from, where Vivienne had retreated to a safe distance.

The mage thrust out her hands as Fiann slowly walked to her- in response, three enormous bees, the same ghostly, translucent blue as the wolf-man, appeared before her, and flew at the bard with their stingers extended. But with a single swing, Fiann cut one bee in half, and caught the second with her free hand, crushing its head- she then caught the last bee and tore it in half, as if tearing a sheet of paper. Vivienne recoiled in shock, before holding out her hands again. This time, a pale blue minotaur appeared before her- unlike the one Abel had faced, this one was armed with a large axe with two blades. With an angry bellow, it looked toward Fiann, raising its axe high before bringing it down on her. But Fiann stood her ground, tossing her axe away and raising both hands- the ground under her feet buckled, but she caught the bull-man's axe, stopping its strike. Before it could draw back, Fiann then grabbed the axe's handle and wrenched it out of the minotaur's grasp. As it stumbled forward, she swung the massive axe, burying its blade in the side of the bull-man's skull. The blow knocked the beast aside, where it fell, motionless, before it too began to dissolve.

Fiann was now only a few steps away from Vivienne. The mage backed away, arms raised in one final, feeble attempt to defend herself. Then, a sound rang out, like the striking of thunder, and blood sprayed from Fiann's shoulder. Vivienne flinched as she was splattered with blood- Fiann calmly looked down at the fresh would, before turning to the sound. Amber stood, trembling, pointing a strange metal object at Fiann: a short, bent metal tube that looked to Abel like a tiny cannon. Amber squeezed the object- there was another clap of thunder as fire erupted from the end… but Fiann was unaffected. It seemed Amber's tiny cannon had missed its mark.

Then, Fiann sprinted at Amber with terrifying speed. The medic fired her tiny cannon two more times- one shot struck Fiann's thigh, but in mere seconds, the bard reached her. Fiann seized Amber by the throat and hoisted her into the air, the tiny cannon falling from the medic's grasp. Amber choked, kicking wildly and clawing at Fiann's wrist, but couldn't break out of the bard's grasp. "Damn you…" Shirley said weakly, still struggling to rise, a massive dent in the side of her breastplate. "Let her go!" She threw one of her daggers at Fiann, but it struck handle-first, clattering to the ground uselessly.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Abel saw Raine draw her baton. But the baton changed shape before his eyes, lengthening into a strange device that the witch held in both hands, bracing one side against her shoulder. She pointed the device at Fiann- fire erupted from the front with a thunderclap, and blood sprayed from both sides of Fiann's outstretched arm, but her grip on Amber held.

"Put her down! Now!" Raine ordered. There was none of the usual levity in her voice, and both her eyes were open, set in a hard glare- Abel noticed her right eye was gold, but her left was a bright blue. "Try anything and I'll put a hole in your head before you can blink!"

Fiann looked toward Raine with dead eyes. The only sound she made- indeed, the only sound she had made during the entire fight- were the sounds of her slow, but deep breaths. Her hand remained tightly gripped on Amber's throat.

Raine gritted her teeth, shifting her aim to Fiann's head. "Do you think I'm fucking around!? I'll kill you where you stand, I mean it! Now put her down!"

Amber's face was beginning to turn blue, and her struggling had weakened. If this went on any longer…

"Fiann!" Abel said, finally getting back onto his feet, ignoring the pain in his ankle. "Let Amber go."

The bard seemed surprised, but, she obeyed, finally releasing Amber. The medic fell to the ground, coughing between breaths.

Abel hurried to her side, healing her, before turning his attention back to Fiann. "Fiann, what do you think you're doing? You could have hurt someone!"

Again, Fiann looked surprised, before she took out her journal and wrote something in it. Between the hastily written letters and the blood speckling the page, reading her words was difficult, but Abel managed. [I wanted to help you.]

"Abel stay away from her!" Raine shouted- she kept her weapon aimed at Fiann, and his other companions had drawn their own, approaching Fiann warily.

"I'll handle this," Abel said firmly, before turning back to Fiann. "Help me? How is this supposed to help me? You could have killed someone. You could've been killed! Look at yourself!"

[You are being tested, right?] Fiann's hands were beginning to shake, making her writing even harder to read. [If I defeat your enemies on your behalf, then you will pass the test.]

"On my… Fiann, that isn't how this works!" The assessment hadn't been going well for Abel, but the thought of having someone else take it for him had never crossed his mind, not even for a moment. That would defeat the whole point of the assessment. And if word reached Szandor…

Fiann wrote hastily, her handwriting growing even less legible. [But I can protect you. I can keep you safe. These whores can't-]

Abel stopped reading and glared at the bard. "Don't call my friends whores."

Fiann recoiled as if Abel had slapped her, journal falling from her hands. But as she bent down to pick it up, she collapsed, hitting the ground face-first without even attempting to stop herself. Abel could only look down at her, his anger swiftly replaced by shock. Was she… dead? Fiann was covered in so much blood and had so many wounds, it was nothing short of a miracle she had stayed on her feet, much less remained lucid enough to communicate with him.

Charlotte had finally risen to her feet, and limped over to Abel and Fiann, sword clenched tightly in her hand. "I knew there was something off about this one," she said, glaring at the bard's unconscious form.

"Hold, Miss Meltrose," Shirley called. The commander remained seated where she had fallen as Amber looked her over. "Amber, see to her wounds."

"Wait, what?" Both Amber and Charlotte said at nearly the same time.

"A warrior with enough strength to defeat an entire special operations unit has been roaming Order-controlled territories freely and without our knowledge." Shirlely slowly climbed to her feet. "This merits further investigation."

Amber hurried to Fiann's side, then reached into a pouch strapped to her thigh and pulled out several bottles filled with yellow liquid. As she poured the liquid onto Fiann's wounds, Abel asked, hesitantly, "You're… not gonna hurt her, are you?"

"Blue, she just tried to kill one of the Wyverns," Raine replied. She kept her weapon aimed at Fiann's prone form, never wavering even for an instant. "And she could've gone after us next. She's lucky they don't take her head right here and now."

"I have a few questions I'd like to ask you as well, regarding that weapon of yours," Shirley said as she approached, eyes locked on Raine for a few moments before her gaze shifted to Fiann. "As for whether she'll be harmed… that depends on how compliant she is." The commander then turned to Abel. "Will you assist us in questioning her?"

"Wha- me?" Abel asked, taken aback.

Niel quickly darted over. "If you need someone to translate, I can handle that myself."

"I'm fully aware of that, Your Grace," Shirley replied. "But Abel seems to have some kind of sway over this woman. If she becomes uncooperative again, I fear we may not be able to restrain her. Abel's presence may make her more willing to answer our questions."

Fiann awoke in a cell of cold stone.

Her hand instantly shot to her waist, but of course, her axe was gone. She reached for the sling on her back, but her lute was gone as well, and it wasn't in the cell with her. The missing axe didn't concern her- she'd used and broken more axes than some warriors would wield in their entire lives at this stage. But the lute… Mab help them if anything had happened to it.

Fiann jolted when someone spoke to her. "You're awake," he said. She flew to the metal grille separating her from freedom- outside, Abel was sitting in an old wooden chair, watching her, her lute resting by his feet. He picked it up, holding it gently. "I made sure to keep this safe for you," he said, before resting it in his lap at an awkward angle, plucking at a few of the strings. "...Honestly, I have no idea how people play these things."

Then, there was the sound of a door opening, and one of the whores came into view. The one with the knives. "So, you're awake," she said. "I have a few questions I need to ask you."

Fiann didn't respond. She wouldn't have even if she'd been able to. But the whore continued, "What is your name?"

"Miss Shirley, I told you that her name is Fiann," Abel said.

The whore glanced at Abel briefly. "I would like to hear that from her directly."

"And I already told you that she can;t talk," he replied. "She has a-"

Fiann reached up and pulled down her collar, exposing her neck. The whore recoiled. She didn't show her scar lightly- it was a hideous thing, made by a hideous man who had committed an even more hideous deed. But if this is what it would take to prove Abel's word could be trusted, then so be it.

It took several moments for the whore to respond. "You… said she could write?" she asked.

Abel nodded, slipping Fiann's journal through a gap in the grille. "Yeah. I don't know what language it is, but I can read it."

"I would prefer that the angel interpret."

Fiann's fists clenched in anger. The whore still didn't trust him? But then, something happened that took her by surprise- a tiny figure emerged from within Abel's body. At first, she thought it was a fairy, the first she'd seen since leaving her homeland… but the wings were all wrong, and the figure had a strange golden ring over her head. "If you insist," the not-fairy replied in a scratchy voice.

"Right. Now…" The whore looked back to Fiann. "What is your name?"

Fiann glared at her in silence.

The whore wasn't intimidated. "What nation do you hail from?"

Fiann continued to glare.

"You possess abilities far beyond the average warrior. Where did you acquire them?"

Again, Fiann said nothing.

Abel asked a question of his own. "Fiann. Just… answer her questions. Please?"

Fiann continued to glare. But she finally opened her journal and wrote her reply. But only because Abel had asked her.

The winged woman read her words. "Brighid."

The whore scrutinized Fiann's handwriting. "...These are Vinlander runes. And given your strength…" Her gaze shifted back to Fiann. "You're a descendant of the berserkers, aren't you?"

"Berserkers? What are you talking about, Miss Shirley?" Abel asked.

"Over a thousand years ago, there was a great war between the Cybelian Empire, and the now lost nation of Vinland. One of the most feared units fielded by the Vinlanders were the berserkers: warriors who charged across the battlefield in a blind fury, cutting down anything that strayed into their path. So great was their rage that they could fight completely unarmored, yet ignore all but the most grievous of wounds. It was believed that the means by which berserkers were created was lost forever when Vinland was sunk… but it seems that their legacy lives on."

Fiann tensed. The whore was lying. Not about the berserkers- they very much had existed, long ago. But the secret of how they entered their fugue state was lost even before the sinking of Vinland. Why, then, was she lying? How did feeding false information to Abel benefit her? And how much of the truth did she actually know? Mab took great pains to ensure information never left Brighid, but it was entirely possible her comrades hadn't upheld their oath to take the kingdom's secrets to the grave.

The whore then looked to Abel. "Well, whatever the truth may be, we'll be taking her back to Apollonia. I'm certain the Inquisition will be eager to coax any secrets out of her."

"You're what?" Abel asked, shocked.

The whore tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "Need I remind you of what this woman did to my unit? And that aside, Brighid is infamous for its insular nature. She could be quite valuable to the Church as a source of information regarding that nation's inner workings."

Something shifted in Abel- a spark ignited that Fiann hadn't seen before now. "I'm not letting you hand her over to Szandor."

"Is that so? And why would that be?"

"This assessment taught me something," Abel began, resting a hand on his chest. "Even with Bacchus's blessing, even with Niel's blood, I'm weak. You, the other Wyverns, even my companions… they don't have the power I do, but they're still stronger than I am. I need to become stronger, if I'm going to face the Overlord. I need someone to teach me how I can become stronger. I need a mentor." He looked toward Fiann. "And I want Fiann to be that mentor."

Fiann placed her hands over her heart in shock. He… wanted her? Despite his harsh words to her earlier, had her display of her prowess actually managed to win him over? And once again, he showed his better nature- after all, it took a certain measure of strength for one to admit their own weakness.

The whore folded her arms over her breastplate, seemingly unimpressed. "You're invoking the Right of Conscription? For her?"

Abel looked confused, before the winged woman fluttered to his side and whispered something in his ear. After a few moments, he looked to the whore with a stern expression. "...I am. Bacchus may only be a god of wine, but she's still a god. And as her Champion, I have the same rights and privileges as any other Hero."

"I mean, you could try detaining her," the tiny woman said. "But considering what happened last time, I don't really think the odds are in your favor."

The whore stared Abel down for several moments. Then, she… smiled? "Very well," she replied. The whore then walked to a door set into the cell wall next to the gate. There was a loud click, and the door swung open. After a few moments, the whore asked, "…well? Are you going to come out or not?"

Fiann approached the open door, before taking a few tentative steps into the passageway outside. She then looked to the whore, and tilted her head, suspicious of her sudden shift of personality

"The Right of Conscription," the whore began, "is the right for Heroes to recruit anyone whose skills they feel would aid them in their quest. There are limitations on who may be conscripted, but once it is invoked, it is completely binding. Not even the Praetor may deny its invocation."

"I can't say I entirely approve of you," the tiny woman added. "But, there aren't many in this world that can say they've bested the six strongest warriors in the Crusaders. Anyone capable of that would have to have a wealth of combat experience." She fluttered closer to Fiann, hands on her hips. "Just be sure to behave yourself, got it?"

Abel extended a hand toward Fiann. "So, how about it, Fiann? Will you help me?"

Fiann stared at Abel for several moments, before throwing her arms around him and holding him tight. His back let out several noisy pops, and he flailed in her grasp. "Ow! Ow! Fiann! It hurts when you hold that tight!"

But Fiann barely heard him. After all this time, after so much wandering, she had been given purpose once more. She would hold on to her new purpose. To her new liege.

And she would never let him go.

The unexpected interruption meant they set sail much later than anticipated. But eventually, Abek and his companions set sail. After bidding each other farewell, Shirley and the rest of her unit, with the exception of Giselle, watched as their ship sailed on toward the distant horizon. "Well, there he goes," Julia said. "I hope he doesn't get himself killed out there."

"After everything that happened, you're letting her go," Charlotte said harshly.

"Abel invoked his Right of Conscription. I'm afraid my hands are tied." Shirley folded her arms over her breastplate. "Besides, holding her would be pointless. She likely doesn't know anything the Church doesn't already know."

"You won't be doing him any favors by being so gentle with him."

"I thought you were being kinda soft on him, too," Julia added. "Not what I'd expect from an Inquisitor."

"Former Inquisitor," Shirley said harshly, glancing back. She looked back out to the sea, where the ship was now barely visible. "In any case, Abel will be facing enough hardships as it is. As members of the Church, our duty should be to ease his burdens, not add to them."

"Hmph." Charlotte turned and left the pier without another word.

"Well, guess I should go check on Giselle and see how her repairs to her armor are going," Julia said. As she followed Charlotte, she muttered, "Gotta say, she's surprisingly stacked under that breastplate. I'll have to see if I can get her to slip out of it more often…"

"Commander, shall I start drafting a letter to headquarters?" Amber asked. "To let them know we'll be returning to our original assignment?"

"I'll take care of that," Shirley replied. "I'll need to include the results of the assessment as well."

"As you wish, Commander." Amber took her leave as well.

Shirley continued to look out over the sea. By now, Abel's ship had disappeared from sight completely. "So… that was Pelleas," she said to herself.

Or so she thought. "That was rather cold of you," Vivienne said, her voice cool and smooth like silk. "Lying to the boy like that."

"Abel has potential," Shirley replied. "But he's sorely lacking in confidence. I simply wished to prod him into taking those first steps forward. Fortunately, it seems I've found the perfect spur for him."

Vivienne folded her arms over her chest. "That isn't what I meant. That woman was a Fairy Knight. A member of the Circle, and you damn well knew it. Why hide that from him?"

"I know I said that I put that part of my life behind me…" she began. "...but I'm afraid what they say about old habits is true. The Inquisition taught us to never show our entire hand." Shirley turned to face her comrade. "But you're even colder than I am. You and Pelleas were sisters-in-arms, sworn to serve the same lord. But you didn't hesitate to strike, Viv… or perhaps it would be more appropriate to call you 'Bedivere.'"

Vivienne shifted her mask slightly, exposing a single, glaring golden eye. "When I left Brighid, I left that name behind, along with all the obligations and loyalties bound to it. Pelleas is as a stranger to me now." She shifted her mask again, hiding her face once more. "...Not that she'd recognize me now, looking like this."

"Hmm…" Shirley turned away, looking out over the sea as it sparkled in the light of the setting sun. Strange things were happening in the world. But what was the cause? And to what end? There were too many players in the game, too many pieces moving across the board to be sure. And perhaps it was merely the paranoia instilled by her years as an inquisitor, but she couldn't help but feel that Bacchus and her Champion were the cause. After all, what were the odds that two exiled knights of Brighid would cross paths with one another on a small island thousands of milia from their homeland after nearly five decades? Simply put, things like that didn't happen outside of stories. Not without a god of fortune to tilt the odds.

But then again, perhaps it was a coincidence, if an unlikely one. After all, unlike fiction, fate need not adhere to the rules of storytelling. History books were full of chance moments that readers would balk at, had they been fictional. But no matter how Shirley tried to reason with herself, the strange feeling would not leave her. It seemed that- for good or for ill- she could only wait and see how the drama laid before her would play out.