V

As he recalled his thoughts, Flannar looked around, spacing out. He didnt think he would survive the fall, surely it must have been some divine intervention from his mother. He lived; despite being aware of the frailty of his current mortal vessel, he expected it to be replaced. Yet it still lived. His legs however, were badly injured, his torso had been split open and his arms felt heavy.

"Oh well, guess I'll have to wait a little while longer before dying" he stated, admiring the beautiful sun of the early afternoon. He sat there in the middle of the crater his body had generated after the impact, wondering if that was the right course of action. Indeed he needed to hasten back to the city as soon as possible, however he was unsure if the Sorcerer King was already there waiting for him. Lodelliaf had warned him but, as he recalled from his old memories of when he was still a child, the adventurer had had a pretty short memory, so it might have been possible for the entire population to have been enslaved in the span of a single day.

"It only stands to reason that I should doubt everything and everyone in this delicate moment. The fragile balance of power between me and the guardians of the city must be confirmed and restored if lost. And besides, I cant wait to see Cledna's face again. I wonder if she still bakes those delicious cakes".

His thoughts now were all for his third in command, the young C-160e. He had renamed her Cledna shortly before departing from that place, about 300 years prior. The sweetest name he had ever heard, as a matter of fact, for it belonged to the little female dog of his mother, the very first - and last - gift that Nature had bestowed upon her and her heritage.

She died so very young at the age of nine. He had desperately tried to fix her, to make her better, to enhance her lifespan, but alas it was all for naugh. Moreover, his very same actions had caused her to age more rapidly than it should have been possible for such a long lasting race of dogs.

Her soft white fur lovingly caressing the tips of his fingers had been one of the very first sensations he had experienced. One he would never forget.

As his mortal vessel neared its death, he looked at the palm of his hand and then squeezed his fingers tightly. Blood poured out of his palm.

"I wonder... when this is all over, will I be able to see you again Cledna? C-160e bears your name like a badge of pride. You should see how happy she is whenever I call her name".

He sighed softly. "Will you forgive me? I hope you will... let us all stay together in the afterlife..."

Flannar closed his eyes for a brief moment. A warm feeling pervaded his chest. Then, for what he felt was a split second, a tenuous light engulfed him. Suddenly his eyes were open again, as if brought back by a miracle.

His strong arms were unharmed, his chest as powerful as ever. The remains of his previous vessel were still breaking down all around him. A rigid piece of what appeared to be part of his forearm detached itself from his new body.

"Ah, I will never get used to this".

He tried to get up, first kneeling, then stnading fully. Darkened remains were scattered on the barren soil as if a large porcelain vase had just been smashed into the ground.

As his strength rapidly recovered, Flannar contemplated on where to go next. From his position, he would be able to reach the southern borders of the Star City in a few hours on foot, or he could settle for an old shortcut used by travelling merchants in ancient times that led directly into noble lands governed by local peasants just outside the city walls. From there a secret passage created by his mother would help him reach his destination in a single night, for the intricated net of hidden corridors led into all four bastions with no detours.

After a moment of consideration, he opted for the latter. He knew that the noble families coming and going from the city were allies and devout servants of his mother, so there wouldnt have been any concerns; should he require their aid, they would provide it in spades.

He went and ran fast towards the lush forest separating the mountain pass and those grassy fields, now populated by corn and tall vegetation.

He ran past the trolls' nest, jumped over the numerous wolves in search of an easy prey, and dodged the boulders thrown by the giant monkeys standing tall among the kings and queens of the entrance to that green paradise.

He did not harm any of them, for he believed in the absolute innocence of animals and creatures of Nature as much as his mother; lady Hilda had taught him to be wary of men and a select few breeds of undead creatures, but beside that, he didnt view any other as hostile and thus not worthy of his immediate attention.

With that mindset, Flannar had been able to pass through the forest entirely within a single hour. As dusk rapidly approached its end, his feet finally reached the grassy fields managed by the busy servants of house Falsjago. He knew the general purpose of their labour, however he did not care about trafficking, abuse of substances or slavery. A leader should guide its people, just like his mother had taught him, but he should not interfere with the affairs of humans and beasts alike. He was content being a mere spectator of the drama unfolding before him. Had he seen a servant breaking his back during a particularly heavy session, or because of inhuman working conditions, he wouldnt bat an eye. This wasnt uncommon among slaves; as he passed through yet another field, he saw many sweating profusely, working almost to the brink of tears. THat was none of his concern. His role was supposed to be that of a shepard, detached just enough as to let others' free will dictate how they should spend their own lives. The slaves were simply too weak to rebel or organize an insurrection, and as such they were in that perilous condition. Therefore, helping them wouldn't make sense. Goodness for the sake of good was totally pointless as one needed to be able to defend himself or at the very least demonstrate the bare minimum required to call himself a man.

Still, he wasn't indifferent to their suffering. He looked at them with pity and offered a prayer so that they might one day find the strength to make a difference.

He kept on walking till he reached his first and only detour; right behind a large mansion once inhabited by a benevolent lord, he would find the secret entrance leading into the city walls. And so he approached it: the mansion once belonging to the de Bratiant noble lineage, looked ancient and in a very bad shape. A large column of white smoke was emerging from its windows and part of its ruined rooftop. The land was barren, crops destroyed, signs of a large fire and the smell of bloodshed permeated the area.

"What in the world happened here?" he commented, remembering the greatness of 50 years prior when he last saw that land.

A dim light in the darkness manifested itself. It could be seen from one of the broken windows albeit just for a moment. Flannar decided to investigate, however briefly, to get more intel on that strategic location. Had any servant of the Sorcerer King discovered the secret passage, he may have been too late. He needed to confirm that no other person had acess to that place.

Upon entering the building an eerie feeling greeted him. The stench of death filled the air; old bloodstains covered the floor, carpets torn apart, paintings viciously destroyed by what appeared to be giant claws. The walls had been burned or otherwise cut with something heavy, capable of slashing.

During his search for clues, Flannar found the source of the light. It was a small candlestick moved by magic forces. An old, tall man in his late sixties followed shortly after the floating candlestick, apparently quite careful as to not produce any sound. His silhouette looked pale and visibly frustrated, droplets of sweat kept pouring all over his face. Judging by his attire, Flannar deduced that it must have been some scavenger with low casting abilities, for he didnt look like a noble at all, unless he had been forced to march in the mud for several weeks.

"Hey you. What happened here? Care to tell me?" he inquired, standing a few meters away from his target.

The old man turned around in panic, he reached for the hilt of a hidden dagger beneath his belts but got promptly stopped by Flannar's rapid movements. His hand was already on the poor lad's throat, threatening to break that fragile neck within a single motion.

However, as his face moved closer to the dimly lit silhouette of his captive, he recognized that person.

"By my mother's grace... you're still alive, Jaodar!".

And indeed, he was. Jaodar de Bratiant, son of the former owner of these lands, Pyotriksen de Bratiant, was heir to a long decaying dynasty of noblemen from the north; seeking aid after the Sorcerer King's forces started invading the surrounding territories from which his family came, his father had managed to establish, through hard work and sheer determination, a foothold on the Star City's own economy to the point that his name had briefly appeared on a small quantity of bronze coins made specifically in his honor.

Not only Pyotriksen had been a prolific inventor, construction worker, entrepreneur and brilliant economist, but he quite literally gave his life to see the city prosper. On the fateful day of the annual merchant guilds' assembly to ensure fair deals and a share of the profits to all whose contributions had been high enough to warrant his approval, he had been assassinated in cold blood by a member of a rival family. Nobody found out who the assassin belonged to, however, it was widely speculated that the Drykven were involved in the act.

On that occasion, Flannar was present. He watched it all happen, in silence as it was customary to his demeanour; he did not interfere with the lives of men, despite everything, and thus let the tragedy unfold before his eyes despite an ardent desire to intervene.

Back then, Jaodar was about ten years old. He had witnessed his father's murder first hand, watching from a caravan a few paces away from the scene. Had the guards not restrained him, he would have been the first to meet the blade. Many among Pyotriksen's followers were glad that a second tragedy had thus been avoided. But alas, fate had decided to be unkind to Jaodar.

The boy was born without a talent. He was the most common of commoners, devoid of even the most basic notion of business and enterprise. Unlike his father, whose life had been full of adventure and thrill, gambles and emotionally wrecking moments of triumph and defeat, Jaodar had nothing gonig for him. He was a recluse, a sociopath, and an arrogant despot to his subordinates. He had no sense of humor nor legitimacy and would often give away his money to prostitutes rather than keep them for a time of need.

His only redeeming quality was that he possessed courage in abundance. His recklessness was passionate, some might say he could feel the thrill of being near Death itself. This however would not help him with anything. His behaviour only created a wider gap between him and his peers.

And now that Flannar had his eyes pointed at him, he could truly see what a venomous snake he had become.

"Jaodar..."

The man's eyes had a strange light about them. As he heard his own name, he sighed.

"...r fault".

"Huh?"

"It's ALL YOUR FAULT!"

He shook off Flannar's hands with a violent movement to the side, thus landing on his feet a few meters away from him.

"You... it's because those filthy sacks of meat were praying to you..."

"What are you saying? I dont understand any-"

"GONE! THE SLAVES ARE ALL GONE!"

Jaodar grabbed his concealed dagger and pointed it at Flannar with fury in his eyes.

"I... I have been a good owner! I never made them do anything impossible! All they had to do was serve me every day faithfully! And then, all of a sudden, they're gone! And my father's mansion..."

"What happened here? What's going on?" Flannar kept inquiring as he slowly but steadily advanced in his direction.

"All the same... you gods are all the same! You just casually walk in here pretending nothing happened. You're never at fault, you're never interfering. But you are, arent you? Meddling in people's affairs to entertain yourselves. Hell, I bet you're making fun of me right about now, son of Hilda. God? Ha! God my ass!"

A yellowish glow emerged from Jaodar's feet, it grew in intensity until it envoeloped his whole body in a tenuous flame. The dagger's blade was shining with magical properties.

"There has been a time when I believed in you... but you have abandoned me. My life has been filled with misery and pain and all you did was watch. Why? Why wouldnt you listen to my prayers but those savages can now roam free from my yoke?"

"I do not know what you're talking about Jaodar. I just descended my domain to seek for assistance. There are far worse problems at stake right now. Rest assured, I listen to all of your prayers. But the most I can do is guide you. I recall you were a devout servant of my mother's teachings. Then you must know that your misfortunes are not my doing. Your misery, your sorrow, the loss of your slaves... it's all on you, and you alone. I am sorry to hear all of this, but such is how life works. We come to aid in times of need, but beyond a point of extreme peril, we cannot-"

"Silence! I have enough of this crap!" the old man shouted as loud as he could "Whether you listen to my prayers or not everything goes to hell anyways. I am so glad we could finally meet again so that I could insult your presence on this earth with my own mouth. The merchant guild's leader predicted this. You are here to stop them from advancing the industrial revolution in town, because it would undermine your religious efforts to keep people ignorant! You just want us to mindlessly pray to you every day so that your power can grow! That's why… that's why you're freeing the slaves!"

"This is madness, Jaodar. My powers do not depend on your prayers. Think for a second. All you have been doing until now is feed yourself lies to mitigate your deep frustration over your losses. I will ask again for the last time, reconsider your actions and back off. All I want from you is answers. What happened here? Why the blood, the destruction, the slaves' escape? Is there anyone inside beside you?"

"Huh? And what do you care, of all people? Oh... that's right. You're here because of the old tunnel, is that it? Ha! Of course you couldnt be here to save me, alleviate my suffering, give me back my slaves! You're a god in name only!"

With that said, Jaodar charged at Flannar with blind rage. The dagger's blade penetrated Flannar's forearm, the force of the thrust was enhanced by the old man's magical enhancements. A loud roar and a slashing sound followed.

Flannar moved away from his assailant, staggering like a regular mortal who had just been hit by a powered up thrust to he arm. Jaodar laughed maniacally as if he understood something vital to his survival.

"So this is the power of a god! A mere mortal with fancy clothes! And here I was all nervous and fearful for nothing!"

The man proceeded to come closer. Another slash, this time to the ankle, made Flannar fall. His body limped briefly before collapsing on the ground. He emitted a loud grunt, then stared back at Jaodar with eyes full of pity.

"What's that expression for? Still mocking me after receiving your just beating? I'm not done with you, not one bit. Let it be a lesson to every so called god still out there. From now on, we men will take charge of our own lives! No more slaves of the arrogant deities!"

A brief pause ensued. Then, Flannar chuckled. Irated, Jaodar's face writhed in pure rage.

"You see, I find it ironic that you want to be free from the gods' yoke while you yourself desperately need to enslave your subjects yet again. You claim that you want your free will back, and yet here I am at your complete mercy. I let you do what you wanted without opposing any reistance. Thus, you have tasted true freedom".

"You... you are just mocking me. Endlessly. Just like when my father's-"

Upon hearing the start of that sentence, Flannar stood on his feet and marched towards Jaodar with stone-cold eyes as nothing had happened to him. The old man recoiled in panic as he truly believed that his attacks may have had some sort of effect.

"Impossible! How..."

Flannar's hand reached for Jaodar's dagger. His fingers slowly touched the blade. In a moment, it tore itself apart and split in a million fragments. The aura of power surrounding Jaodar instantly vanished.

Still at the mercy of the gods, the man could not do anything but let fate run its course.

"My mother always told me... that it is common courtesy for someone as powerful as her to be humble. And we should be humble as well. Since I cannot feel pain from such ridiculous toys, she taught me how to properly behave in front of lesser creatures" Flannar explained while running his fingers across Jaodar's throat, "it will come a time when you will need to face who you really are and who you aspire to be. When that moment comes, you may make a choice. Be a commoner, a man among men, or a special creature, different from you. She taught me the difference between suffering and momentary debilitation. She made me experience true pain as well as true love. Therefore, I have become a better actor than any other. What you inflicted to me was a mere wave of hatred with nothing to back it up".

"No... you are no god, you're a monster!"

"I offered you mercy yet you refused. I gave you freedom yet you wanted none of it. I told you what I was seeking yet you decided to ignore it. Now you will reap the fruits of your vile nature. Jaodar de Bratiant, you have lived for nothing, done nothing, and will leave nothing to no one. For wasting the precious gift of life in indolence and arrogance, I hereby send you to hell".

A second later, Flannar's fingertips were reaching Jaodar's carotid. His hand moved inside the old man's throat with the same ease as a heated up blade slicing through butter. Soon a sea of blood covered the floor; his death had been instantaneous. Flannar did not waste time and threw Jaodar's body at the wall like a useless broken figurine. Upon impact, his remains erupted in a mass of meaty chunks of red and black so thin that it would've been impossible for anyone to recognize a human body from that mess.

"May your soul forever rest in peace" Flannar muttered, contemplating the destruction inside the manor, "it is highly likely that he didnt know anything regardless of my actions. This is the work of organized people. There seems to be a certain pattern in this brutality. Moreover, Jaodar offered a hint albeit unknowingly so. The merchant guild's leader... who might that be? Spreading false information about the gods is a surefire way to get arrested and executed. Assuming the church is still intact...".

Flannar had to hurry. He picked up the pace, searching every room for any potential clues, but did not find anything of value. Frustrated but still hopeful, he sought to find the old passage through the city walls.

He found it behind a double set of false bookshelves in the lower floor of the mansion, after tearing down a fortified brick wall that had been erected by Pyotriksen decades prior.

Upon entering the passage, he swiftly passed through a series of small corridors caved into the side of a rocky formation just below the walls, several hundred meters underground. These corridors were further connected with more sets of entrances parallel to the ancient mines previously built by the original crew of players that entered that world with his mother, Hilda.

He had known them for a few months before their departure, but that had been enough for him to feel genuine affection towards the demihumans.

For that reason alone, he had allowed more races into the city and thus enabled the diverse cast of warriors and priests to set foot into his domain. Normally lady Hilda would not have permitted such action, however, her vision of the world had been greatly distorted by her personal story as she came from a world alien to him where humans were the majority and the planet had been overrun by poisonous alliances, tracerous betrayals and misfits of all kinds.

He couldnt even begin to imagine the suffering she had endured in that world. So he had sworn to make that small corner of earth a place where most races could thrive while being supportive of his own rule.

Common elves made for excellent bureaucrats, despite what the majority of people would think. Their innate sensitivity and attention to detail were instrumental in the process of further enhancing debates and legislative applications into the city. Humans were a proven workforce capable of enduring a lot of stressful tasks and physical labour, while dwarves had been crucial in the past for their intelligent use of machinery and defensive constructions.

While the Star City appeared as a regular city-fortress from an outside perspective, as a matter of fact, it was much more secure than any other nearby kingdom. Flannar had specifically built it as an impregnable bastion to prevent strangers from desecrating his mother's tomb. That was, in theory, the original goal. The subsequent successful expansion of its former walls and extension of its borders hadnt been planned at all. It came as a natural consequence, seeing as tomb raiders and adventurers with evil intentions tried time and time again to loot Hilda's treasury and resting place.

Each time they failed, more came. At first they brought only a select few companions, but soon they took their whole families with them. Those who stayed for the climate, atmosphere, luxurious natural beauties and abundance of resources eventually reproduced and willingly settled under Flannar's rule.

The underground passages seemed to never end. He knew them like the back of his hand, however, it was not easy to navigate through these intricate webs of tunnels.

Eventually, his eyes met the light of dusk once again. The small opening he was facing would then lead him through a set of stairs that ended right behind the municipal building. The second he set foot outside, he was inundated by a sea of voices and shadowy figures walking up and down, a seemingly endless stream of people.

Judging by the commotion around him, the size of the decorations and festive attendants running around the plaza, it must have been an important occasion. Suddenly, it came to his attention that there were very few occurrences when bureaucrats of any gender and caliber would be open to festivities; that day was indeed special. The electoral ceremony, created to celebrate the end of the current mayor's term, was the most likely scenario. Flannar sought after some bystanders and thus was able to confirm his suspicion. They would soon elect a new mayor. Before they did that, he had to hurry up and speak with the former regent to keep the flow of information going.

He desperately needed to know more. If the Sorcerer King had already passed through the city gates, he needed to hastly put together a team of defenders. His mind was racing at lightning speed: was he too late? Was the Sorcerer King capable of disguise, and if so, was he alone or with a group? Would he wait with his forces outside the city or silently assassinate high ranking officers of Flannar's army? Where they even capable of seeing him, was he invisible?

There was no telling what he could do. All Flannar knew were generic horror stories reported by a bunch of survivors of the Sorcerer King's onslaught. His voluntary isolation and passive attitude towards the rest of thw world didnt help his cause.

He hurried into the municipal building, unopposed, and headed towards the mayor's office. A large group of bureaucrats clad in black clothes passed by, some were looking at him directly, others were laughing maliciously.

They were all too young to know who he was, or even remember "the deity" of the Star City in the first place. He didnt expect them to, nor cared. His protection of the city as a whole was more important than a bunch of nobodies. his concerns were very specific: the vital institutions of the legislative system, crucial military personnel, and a select few specimen for his research. Everyone else was expendable.

That is not to say he wouldnt protect them, but the stakes were too high for him to care about single individuals.

To his surprise, the office wasnt locked, nor protected by guards. Even though the mayor usually didnt stay there for long periods of time, at the very least a single guard was always present. Protocol dictated that the mayor be escorted at all times except on the roof of the building, by his own decree, for he had to talk privately with his adoptive daughter, and that was the only time he had truly ever been left alone. Flannar knew this, for he himself had instructed his peers before him on such a matter and gave them the same order.

Thus concerned, he hesitated for a brief moment. His eyes were fixed on a single point. The doorhandle looked suspiciously clean compared to the decorative frame around it.

He hovered over it with his fingers, then retreated.

After inhaling profusely, he concentrated on the door.

"Tier eight: Faltering Murmur".

A wave of powerful breaths came out of his body, as if his whole being were instantly breathing from each and every pore of his skin.

Because of this, the door was soon wide open. As it opened, a shockwave come down from the ceiling as if a thunderstorm had struck inside the mayor's office. A loud crackling sound followed by lightning emerged from thin air; the floorboards in front of the office were now covered in ash and blackened marks.

"A trap... set by who, I wonder?" Flannar entered the office with caution. He inspected the large desk inside, the cupboards, the drawers. No signs of intrusion. It had to be the work of a professional.

"It might be the sign of a riot... no, political intrigue perhaps? ...I shouldnt jump to conclusions. This might also be the work of the Sorcerer King. Although, why would he decide to aim for the mayor of all people. There are far more capable opponents right at the gates..."

Flannar wanted to make sense of that situation as soon as possible. He kept on searching for clues until, upon opening a large closet at a few meters from the desk, he got hit by something heavy.

Looking down at his feet, he recognized in horror that the thing hitting him was a full sized human torso: inside the closet, a large number of body parts was being stored. Arms, legs, pieces of skulls and fleshy remnants of what appeared to be elven spine and internal organs. Some of them appeared to have been skinned. A large pool of dried blood had covered the inside of the closet, but for some reason there was no smell. Someone had used magic to conceal the foul odor of decomposition and set a trap for him to find.

"These are... the guards..." he muttered. There was no more time to think. The mayor was in immediate danger.

He hurried to the large hall used by politicians and bureaucrats alike to set up ceremonies and formal debates that required more than one party present.

As he expected, they were all there: over six hundred people, some dancing, some engaged in pleasant conversations. None of them had noticed his presence.

"My children. I require your immediate attention!" Flannar shouted. His voice sounded like a roaring lion feasting upon its prey.

His heavy, blunt tone attracted quite a few annoyed stares.

"Lend me your ears! I am Flannar Olgath, protector of the Star City. Point me to the mayor's location at once! The ceremony needs to be stopped, you all may be in immediate danger!"

"Protector huh? A god descended among us? And to what end, if I may ask?" someone among the crowd inquired with spiteful attitude.

"Bah! Bold of you to show up now, mighty god. Are you even a god though? You do look like a young man rather than a deity. Where is your purple sash? Where are your angels, your magic? Is that black armor of yours supposed to represent something? And that serpent, it looks to me more of an evil omen than a benevolent sign" someone else replied with vehement sarcasm.

Flanna couldnt believe it. The devout servants of the gods were much more untrustworthy and distrustful than he thought. Even though when he first abandoned the city, they were all eager to serve him and do what was right for the benefit of the city. Indeed some foreigners and select groups of misfits were always present, however, it now appeared that the corruption and massive greed lurking in the corners of his realm might have seeped into the highest positions of power.

"I appeal to your principles and heart, give me the mayor's location at once! You need to interrupt the ceremony without fail and postpone it. Do haste for the fate of our city might be in danger. I also request you to cease your activities and prepare an assembly as soon as possible".

"Cease our activities? Are you out of your mind, sir god?" some grumbling politician with a double chin looked at him with scorn.

"Do you have a habit of coming down here from your castle in the sky demanding things to your supposed subjects? Are we slaves, perhaps?" someone replied with indignant looks.

"No, wait a moment dear friends and fellow party members. Let's hear it. Why would we need to step down from our current political predicaments? There must be a valid reason, right?" a young apprentice wearing white, clean clothes and a long blonde fringe covering his left eye addressed the situation calmly as if to imply that cold reasoning was the key to solve that tense moment.

"I cannot divulge the nefarious news to you all. Only a select few need to know. Have faith in me and my mother for I've been sent here to help. There is no other motivation behind my actions. I only ask that you cooperate until the crisis is averted".

"Crisis? What nonsense is this. We politicians are here to inspire the populace and avoid any kind of confrontation. It is our duty to prevent crises in the first place. Go back to your domain, sir god. You have nothing to worry about".

"If there really is a crisis, wouldnt you be able to solve it yourself? You are a god, after all. Cant you just... produce a solution?"

It was clear to Flannar that those who were addressing him directly had no intention of backing down. Cooperation seemed like the last resort as the people he was looking at had well past their prime and any idealism, or ambition of making a difference was long gone from their hearts and minds. Those were old, passive, corrupt sons of a political system that was rotten to the core and had undermined the very reason the Star City had been built in the first place. When he had left over 50 years prior, the first signs of this change were already starting to surface, however Flannar was confident that both Elves of Purity and humans would cooperate to heal the social structure of the city and revamp its beneficial relationship between the people and the institutions. However, now he was certain that not acting sooner had been a grave mistake.

"I should have never trusted commoners" he thought to himself as he advanced in front of his disgruntled audience, "now everyone may pay for my sin. Mother, please forgive me. I hope this will not anger you in your sleep. I beg of you, rest peacefully".

The god of the Star City, Flannar Olgath, defender of the peace and guardian of the sacred tomb of lady Hilda, pulled his arm up. Then, with a swift movement of his forearm, he swung against the first row of grumbling politicians, all too eager to scream and shout demanding his immediate removal from the ceremony. Despite him aiming for a specific Elf of Purity that had aggressively shouted blasphemous words against his own mother, he lost control of his strength for a brief moment. He wasnt ready to deal with mortal beings once again and thus had to measure his own power with far greater care; his blow did hit the target, however it also caused massive damage to the bystanders. Fifteen aristocrats exploded in a putrescent mass of viscera and sprouting blood emerging from their clothes, stained with bodily fluids, flesh and large chunks of semi-liquified organs spontaneously departed from their carcasses. The red liquid stained everyone in the second and third row, temporarily blinding some of the closest politicians who screamed in horror, frantically trying to make a sense of what they just saw.

A general panic ensued; most people still far from Flannar started sprinting in all directions like headless chickens. Of course, nobody wanted to die, however their composure as highly decorated officials, politicians and administrative personnel alike had been completely obliterated. Flannar observed the scene with disdain. Had they witnessed first hand what the Sorcerer King could do, they would have thought what they just saw was akin to a slap on the cheek.

Despite everything, someone didnt escape the god's wrath. On the contrary, the young lad who had suggested listening to him a few moments prior stood amidst the blood and gory remains all around him. His composure, pristine. His visage, immaculate. Although his clothes had been stained, he kept looking directly at Flannar with an amused expression. He slowly clapped twice, then he got up from his seat.

"Well then, I must admit that I wouldnt have guessed a literal god would have come down here to strike judgement upon our elites. That being said, I'm not totally opposed to the idea. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, lord Flannar. I'm Hendrikvor E'Clannestan, you may remember my grandfather, I suppose".

"Your grandfather? ... Byokris the archbishop, of course! What a marvelous devout servant of my mother!"

He was overjoyed. Of all the servants still actively preaching the teachings of lady Hilda, Byokris had been one of, if not the most prolific and ardent follower of her faith. Flannar was sure that fate might have been once again on his side.

"Precisely. Now, may I accompany you for a short walk? You seem to be clueless as to what is happening around here. Forgive me for stealing away some precious time that you could dedicate to your cause, but I find it of the utmost importance that you be brought up to speed. Your anger seems to be misplaced. I wish to guide you towards better suited targets".

"Please do. But I must warn you, although I do know your grandfather well, I am not inclined to perform acts of mercy for those of you who are planning on deceiving me. So make your resolve and be concise for time is of the essence".

"Rest assured lord Flannar, I'm on your side. I will never betray your trust…".

As they ventured away from the ensuing chaos spreading all around them inside the ceremonial hall, Hendrikvor spoke frankly about all that was happening in the city. While his knowledge wasnt on the same level as the old mayor's, he did mention the three noble houses currently at the top of the food chain, describing them as a mass of sharks eating one another with ever voracious intent. He did not add too many details however, for even he had tried to stay away from their grasp for as long as possible. Thus Flannar had at the very least a bit of context to go after, and perhaps even a place to start looking for the old mayor's whereabouts.

They walked from the hall to a well lit service corridor, Flannar patiently awaited for the apprentice to finish.

"I sincerely thank you for your service, Hendrikvor. No matter how you look at it, this might take a while. My objective as of now is to find the current mayor and prevent the election of a new one until I'm absolutely certain that he is alive and well. Moreover, I need to reach the guardian of the city, lady Cledna. I dont suppose you have seen her?"

"I'm afraid not, my lord. I know of her existence from my grandfather, and then from my father's drawings and recollections, but I've never seen her myself. I'm worried that something might have happened a few years ago. But I wouldnt know what, exactly. You've been gone for five decades, maybe more... things have changed quite a bit".

"Indeed they have. Now I can clearly see how pitiful of an existence these villainous bastards conduct for themselves. If only I had stayed a little while longer..."

No. That was not the time for regret. Flannar shook off the terrible feeling of inadequacy and turned towards the mayor's office.

"When was he supposed to arrive?"

"About an hour ago, give or take my lord".

"Then something must've happened. I need you to convince as many of your peers as possible and halt the ceremony. They will be tempted to finish it regardless of his presence and elect a new mayor, that must not happen. Whether it's treason, a coup, or... an external influence, I must know what is going on at all costs".

"I'll do what I can, my lord. Although I'm not so sure that I'll be able to stop the ceremony. But I do believe that your previous energetic actions might have turned their attention towards bigger problems" Hendrikvor barely suppressed a small laugh.

"That was an unfortunate accident. I didnt mean to be so rude. The frailty of the mortal condition is still alien to me. But if it served a greater purpose, then I feel it less of a burden on my conscence" Flannar replied with a stern look on his face.

Having found each their own objective, the two parted ways. A little relieved by that encounter, Flannar hastened out of the building. Next, he would've tried the municipal arsenal, where he was certain to find more information about the current state of the city's defenses, and then he'd reach the Bastion of Darkness where Cledna, the city's protector, used to reside.

As he entered the facility, he got instantly attacked by a multitude of automatic weapons. First, a series of rotating firearms in the guise of large arquebuses exploded their bullets as he approached the eastern walls of the arsenal's antechamber. Then, sixty crossbows fired a relentless stream of poisoned arrows from both sides of the next room, leading up to the main R&D underground. Then, once he reached the entrance, Flannar got bombarded by a series of shockwaves and an anti-magic field so powerful that, had he been a few levels under, would probably have had disastrous effects on his health.

Despite all of that, his condition remained pristine. He was very pleased by the new systems devised against intruders, as none of them were present when he first left the city. Whoever had created such an elaborate web of traps must have been very talented.

As a matter of fact, he would soon encounter such a marvelous architect of destruction; upon stepping into the R&D, Flannar was met with shock and awe.

The Judge, one of the very first apprentices that he had instructed personally, came to his side in mere seconds. Alongside him, what appeared to be exhausted kids covered in black marks and bruises all over their tiny bodies flocked to him, smiling.

"This must be a dream... my lord, it really is you isnt it! How long has it been!" the Judge was overjoyed.

"I'm surprised to find you here, Pharx. Sorry, they call you Judge now, do they? I'm truly grateful to see you're well. By my mother, you've grown quite tall".

"And how could I not? With your blessings and the miraculous crops lady Hilda provided us with, everyone has been fed to the brink of obesity!" he bursted out laughing, slapping his own belly like a happy child whose meal had been consumed with gusto.

"It's an honor to finally meet you, lord Flannar" a small girl dressed in fine clothes, whose presence had up until them been concealed by her peers, spoke to him frankly and politely with the grace of an older lady, "Although they told us you were a little taller than that. But... they didnt exaggerate your beauty. I'm... I-I'm happy to be looking at your clean visage and... eyebrows".

"Ha! This is a new one. You're a little too young to be speaking of sex appeal to an older man such as lord Flannar" the Judge interjected without permission.

"Young adults grow up so fast in this country. Do you have an eyebrows fetish, Risélla?" Laor-f'ha, the foreigner engineer so far silently observing the scene from a distance, finally spoke, a little malicious and a little curious.

"Hey uh... what... what is a fetish?" Mako the youngest of the apprentices asked innocently.

"N-No! What are you saying! I was just pointing out... awww forget it!"

Risélla turned around and crossed her arms as if to imply that the whole situation made her upset. Nonetheless, her cheeks were bright red.

Flannar smiled sincerely. His heart seemed slightly more at ease, even though for a brief instant only.

"So which one of you created all those sophisticated mechanisms?"

"That... would be me, sir" Plurimo's exhausted smile almost made Flannar consider grabbing a chair for him to seat on. He looked like a broomstick, small, long and full of hair. He must have worked himself to the bone.

"Tell me, have you been forced to work so much? Or was it your initiative?"

"I've... been working a little more than usual, but I generally love what I'm doing. It serves a greater purpose as well, right? So why not. I'm probably a bit too awkward in public and I dont like crowded places so this feels like home to me. Plus, we're not always working as hard as today".

"Right? As the youngest heir to the Brennedt household, it is my duty to ensure that all our subjects are treated decently. Since this facility is currently under our direct control and funding, you know, beside generous subsides from the government, I made it my personal mission to see Plurimo's needs fulfilled" the young mistress from house Brennedt stated proudly, her chin raised high.

"I see, I see. I'm pleased to know that. You've done well, miss Risélla".

Flannar touched her hair at about shoulder height and gently stroke it with affectionate care. Risélla instinctively shrunk like a small dog that is afraid of taking a bath for the first time.

"So I take it that you've been successfully contacted by Asta, my lord?" the Judge suddenly inquired with a serious look, "we have quite a lot of work to do. I have been informed as well, you see. The mayor told me everything".

"So you know... no, I havent been contacted by anyone".

"What? This is impossible... Asta should've been at the observation deck a few hours ago. Not good. Something must have gone wrong. I'll investigate as soon as we're finished here".

"Asta... right. The mayor's daughter. I remember her being a generic NPC before I took her personality onto the next level personally".

Flannar recalled her origin. Indeed, she was just a blank slate when he first came into contact with her. She had been born from one of the most recent pools of NPCs from her mother's generation. She had good qualities for scouting and a talent that granted her usage of magic casting without having to announce the next spell.

He had been the one to design her personality, her rough habits, and small facets of her being, including her customization. It wasnt his proudest creation by any stretch of the imagination, however he felt like she could produce good results in the long run. The fact that they started using her immediately as a scouting figure and a live communication device was a really good sign in his eyes.

The Judge expanded upon her story a little more. He told Flannar how her rebellious attitude was starting to get her in trouble and her desire to get away from the city was ever present.

"I should've paid more attention to her backstory. It must have been auto-generated by Dracolitur'xe. No matter, whatever the case we can solve this in no time. Please see to it that she is found and treated to proper care for the time being. I need to speak with her".

"Understood my lord. We are almost done with the preparations anyway. New firearms and bullet-propelled weaponry have been implemented recently. Our defenses exceed any other kingdom's expectations. Relying on long ranged weapons has been a fantastic idea".

"We shall see. I dont trust any kind of weapon against the Sorcerer King. We need to be extra careful. Who knows what kind of evil plans he has in store for us. I bet his devils are watching, closely monitoring the situation as we speak. He must be laughing at our pathetic display of force. I need you to alert the army's chief of staff with due haste as well. There is no guarantee that Cledna is combat-ready at this time, nor that she'll be in the Bastion. I've heard rumors that she hasnt been seen for quite a while".

"Yes my lord. It is as you say, that's unfortunate but lady Cledna has left us several years ago and nobody knows where she is. I have done my own research and it is undoubtedly possible that someone has tried to smuggle her out of the city. You know how gullible she was".

"I've always hated that trait of her personality" Flannar remarked regrettably, "why did mother design her that way I wonder? Still, it might not be all lost. I doubt she'd ever venture somewhere that isnt the Star City to begin with. I bet she got involved in something dangerous trying to save naive citizens and got trapped somewhere".

Flannar thought about Cledna's own personality; While her evil nature put off quite a few of their peers, she was fundamentally kindhearted. That has been a design flaw of her character, initially introduced by one of lady Hilda's guildmates, a relentless backstabber and terrible companion. However, since she was an NPC with remarkable abilities, lady Hilda had adopter her and changed some of her traits, thus infusing some sense into her ravenous evil doings.

Cledna became more passive, quiet, and reserved. She occasionally started helping her own guildmates spontaneously, but then upon doing so, she would immediately retreat behind Hilda's back, like a scared little kitten.

That unusual behaviour must have been the result of such a conflictual vision for the same character, torn between her original creator and her new master.

This unnatural development and only partial override of her original feelings led her to believe blindly in almost anyone with a kind attitude towards her, while doubting anyone even passively aggressive. On one hand, her firm attitude and evil side helped her remain a reliable ally and a very effective patrol officer, while on the other her newfound kindness had often betrayed her, preventing several missions from being completed successfully.

Lady Hilda had tried time and time again to correct this, but to no avail. And now that Flannar was in charge, he had the burden of responsibility heavily weighting on him.

He had trusted her judgement too much, he thought to himself. Another mistake to add to the pile. "I'm not a good commander, indeed perhaps I'm not a good father figure either. I feel like I should remedy to all of this before its too late. It is a shame that it took the Sorcerer King knocking at my doorstep to realize how foolish I was. What a terrible way to succeed to my mother this is".

He offered a brief prayer to her, then he respectfully bowed to his subordinates with the promise to return as soon as possible.

"I shall be back with Cledna in one piece and avenge any wrongdoings. I promise to you all, this city will know order once again".

"I hope so my lord. I really do. Let us see to it and be ready to hasten our advance. We might have a few days of advantage over the Sorcerer King after all. Even if he's spying on us, there is little chance that his troops could gather rapidly without any patrol noticing".

"You're optimistic, Phrax. I always liked that about you".

Flannar didnt wait any longer. He jumped with the force and speed of a bullet from the R&D underground hall to the surface, and landed safely on the streets.

His journey inside the Star City seemed quicker than he had anticipated, but that was true only in perspective, because he knew the city's layout like the back of his own hand. The amount of uncertainties and missing key members of his entourage made it increasingly difficult to find optimism in his situation.

As he approached the Bastion of Darkness, he felt like something was amiss. His heart ached with a mixture of remorse and fear. Nonetheless, he opened the large metallic doors leading up to the bastion's antechamber. The place was shrouded in blackness, illuminated only by two dimly lit torches at the opposite sides of the large round walls, A crimson window frame revealed a small room on the back of the antechamber, inside of it, he could see someone snoozing on a wooden chair, completely uncaring of their surroundings.

"They say ignorance is bliss but…".

He considered what to do next. Normally, he would just enter through the window, shake them up a bit, and intimidate them just enough, to the point that they'd willingly want to return to their post for a twelve hour shift. But due to the situation he found himself in, his mood was very much worsened.

He then decided to be considerate and assume that the person inside the other room might not even have heard of him in his lifetime. For this reason, he decided to approach the window.

"Good day sir. I need to go upstairs. I want to steal every valuable object at the top of the bastion. I will also rob you of all of your coins while I'm here. Is that alright with you?"

"*snort*… Huh? Ah sure, whatever".

As expected, the person he was speaking to didnt even listen to him.

He sighed lightly. Then, he nonchalantly punched the wall with the back of his hand. The sonic wave produced by his hit was so powerful that the earth itself shook for ten seconds. A wooden chair fell off, and so did the guard sleeping on it.

"What? What's happening?! I… ready the alarm! … Oh. We have a visitor. I'm sorry I was just checking some things. Uh…"

"Tell me, do you know who I am?"

"Uuuh… no sir, I'm sorry. But I do recognize that crest and armor, for some odd reason. I feel like I should know you but… you seem trustworthy".

Flannar smiled bitterly. He remembered the guard well; he was but a boy when they first met. He had grown into a fine looking man with a decently muscular build, but sadly his attitude and mannerisms didnt improve at all.

"I'm glad that hasnt changed at least. We will chat later on, you can be sure of that. For now, I want you to give me access to the top floor".

"Uh sure thing. I mean, I should ask for your name first… I think".

"I am Flannar Olgath, Byaron. Can you at least remember that for a couple more years?"

The guard looked at him like he had seen a ghost, his eyes glowing, his hands shaking.

"Lord Flannar... In the flesh?! So that's why I- d-dear lord! I'm terribly sorry sir! This wont happen again I swear, sir! Nobody told me anything, least of all how you looked like. I didnt recall… forgive me. If I had known I-"

"Yes yes, I get it. Enough Byaron, dont worry about it. I dont hold you responsible for it, my visit wasnt planned. As a matter of fact, I might not visit ever again".

Byaron bowed deeply and hastened to open the gate that lead to the spiral staircase next to the antechamber. Flannar waved towards him and proceeded upstairs.

The first thing he noticed, was a faint smell of roses. As impossible as that might have sounded, they were probably still alive, maybe even thriving. A little sense of joy filled Flannar's heart, just for a fleeting moment; he might have been able to see her again, the same way he left her. Maybe the years had been kind to her, and the people too. What the Judge had stated might have been just a fluke. He was fully prepared to see her jump from her throne of roses and ivory at any second, he could feel her arms wrapping around his neck, applying such pressure that he would have had to forcibly prevent her from strangling him.

As he approached the summit of the bastion, his heart started racing. He could see the last rays of dusk risen just above the rooftop expand downwards, partly revealing a dusty old circular room. He finally set foot inside it, and just as his rampant imagination majestically showed him pictures of the past, silhouettes of a life ago…

Reality came barging in on his quest for a sweet reunion.

He had hoped.

He had sought after.

He had perceived.

He had imagined.

And now, he…

"Cledna… no…."

Flannar expected a smile. A smile that wasnt there.

There were only tears and sadness in his heart now. Darkness had completely engulfed his surroundings, both outside and inside.

He timidly approached the room's center, with the reverence that one reserves for the dead.

The smell of roses was no more. There were countless plants and roots coming and going from all directions, withered away long ago. The fragile petals, once bright red, yellow, pink, purple… were all indistinguishably grey. The large ivory throne, wrapped in a delicate floral intricacy, was gone. Only the base remained, buried under layers of dust and stained blankets. Beneath these, Flannar could see an arm dangling, gently pushed by the nightly breeze. Long, delicate aquamarine hair got caught in between several broken pieces of furniture.

As he approached that pitiful scene, Flannar barely kept a tear from wetting his cheek.

He knelt, extended his arms and wrapped them around a tiny torso. He gently pushed it out, getting rid of the obstacles in his way.

A doll, or to be more precise an automaton, was staring blankly in his general direction. A once beautiful girl, her cheeks slightly reddish, healthy and delicate skin tone, big blue eyes with vivid shades of green around her irises. Those same eyes now had no motion, nor life.

Her lower torso was in a bad condition. Flannar inspected her thighs and the remains of her legs and feet.

"You never left, did you… you never, ever left. That is why nobody could find you. You were here all along…".

The more he inspected her body, caressed her wounds, looked at her disfigured shape, the greater the despair. And then, a surge of uncontrollable fury.

"Fetid pests. Pigs… no, monsters, I will find them. And then I'll end their existence".

Flannar put Cledna's body on the floor, cleaned her up, and adjusted her long fluffy skirt.

"C-160e, Status report".

As he spoke, a soft blue light emerged from the automaton's chest. A virtual holographic display projected from her breasts gave him a detailed explanation of what was going on.

Multiple lacerations, fractures of the skeletal structure, excessive power consumption, critical failure of all systems but the core unit.

"Someone had fun with her. There's a hole in her belly".

Flannar's hand swept away the dust where her stomach was supposed to be. The feelings of dread and disgust inside were reaching boiling point. He decided that this had to end immediately, otherwise he might go outside and kill every single person in sight.

"Message, override priority. Plurimo, are you busy at the moment?"

"Lord... Flannar? Well I was trying to calibrate our new rifles, we are almost-"

"I'm sorry to burden you like this all of a sudden, but you need to listen to me right now. Drop whatever you're doing and come to the Bastion of Darkness at once".

"Y-yes my lord, I'll be there immediately".

.

The large hall inside the cathedral of lady Hilda was still filled with the bloody remains of the feast occurred a few hours prior. Due to the large amount of convicts and priests that had met a premature end in that sacred place, work had to be done as fast as possible to prevent anyone from witnessing the horrible display of carnage. For such a purpose, a man had been hastily called by the municipal militiamen presiding the perimeter.

Vashtblaff, hero of the Star City, some said self-proclaimed as such, had entered the cathedral to assess the situation. Behind him, two other men made their way into the spectral realm that was then the sacred building once used to worship the gods.

The militiamen present at the scene stopped for a brief moment to make sure the two were no ordinary people; upon seeing their attires, they presented their weapons and made way so that they could come close to the center of the hall where the archbishop's body - or perhaps, corpse - was still laying in a pool of his own blood.

"What a mess... grandfather was supposed to be alone in this endeavour. What happened here?"

One of the two men directly behind Vashtblaff touched the grotesque creature that had been the archbishop with his bare hands. He was none other than Hendrikvor, his grandson. While the resemblance between the two was minimal, there was no denying that their facial features were quite similar in a couple of key positions such as the forehead, the nose bridge and the upper lip. Still, one appeared as a simple man while the other was a huge Elf of Purity with unnatural growth on his extremities.

"Salutations, elector Hendrikvor. Dont worry your grandfather will get well soon enough, we've seen far worse in our darkest days'' one of the militiamen spoke frankly.

"I hope so. As a side note, I know that you guys are always a bit wary of the Drykvens, but I would appreciate it if you could cooperate fully this time around".

"Of course. Please dont take it personally little Drykven lord, this is a natural occurrence for anyone with a passing thought about their own safety" the militiaman replied, visibly uneasy.

"I know. I dont take offense to that, not anymore. I... I just want to see this through. It will take some time but I'll get it done".

Hendrikvor's interlocutor was walking next to him. His name was Bellmor Drykven, and as a member of the hated noble house that time and time again had displayed its true colours whenever something evil was happening in the suburbs, his mere presence on holy ground was deemed treacherous.

Still, he was not an evil man. Born with incredible healing abilities and a natural kindness that was alien to the majority of his peers, Bellmor had sought the church's clemency to be able to do what was, in his personal vision of the world, the right thing.

For the past decade he had traveled the world under a false name to be able to heal the poor and enrich the less fortunate inhabitants of the nearby kingdoms, elevating his name to heights of good will and genuine kindness that the average Drykven would never even attempt to reach.

And now, barely out of his teens, he was about to embark on a totally different adventure.

Hendrickvor greeted Vashtblaff the hero with a simple gesture, then he moved aside to let the timid but resolute Bellmor introduce himself.

The difference between them was huge: despite his age, Bellmor looked like a small child with big blue eyes and long blonde hair that barely reached Hendrickvor's chest. Vashtblaff was a massive man with broad shoulders and large forearms that appeared more similar to an orc rather than a regular human being. His pointy chin was large and symmetrical, his teeth looked spiky and bloody as if they had been used to tear apart a big chunk of meat just moments prior.

His eyes looked feral and fiery as much as a wild wolf leading his pack to victory.

"Greetings oh mighty hero. I was called here in a hurry by my personal friend and colleague Hendrickvor to help you solve this crisis. I am-"

"I know who you are, kid. Now move your butt and solve this matter at once".

Vashtblaff's voice was coarse and deep like a caveman's. His mannerism was rough and uncultured, totally uncaring for anyone around his proximities.

He looked at Bellmor's visage for no more than a couple seconds before turning his back on him. There was nothing more disgusting to him than having to let someone else with such a small stature and insignificant physique do the job for him. But he recognized that he wasnt a magic caster and his role was diametrically opposite to his.

"... I understand. Of course I'll cooperate. Please let me do my job then. I will need room to move".

"Ha. As if you hadnt enough space already. What more do you require, little man?"

"Just the area around the body. Please order your men to dispose of any other corpse and leave the hall completely free from anyone else's remains. This will be tough".

"What a demanding little rat you are. Very well then, I guess it needs to be done. You've heard him men! Get your asses moving!"

Vashtblaff roared his orders with fierce conviction. Then, he nonchalantly retreated behind the podium where he proceeded to look for something on the floor.

"Must've been here somewhere. I know I saw it earlier".

After a couple minutes, he threw a punch against the wooden handrails next to the podium with enough force to break them into pieces.

"Yes! Here it is! Ha, as I thought the old bastard came out from here!"

He grabbed something on the floor, possibly a small metallic object, and then he pulled with all his might. In a moment a large trapdoor was revealed to the bystanders. Behind the trapdoor, there was a long flight of stairs leading downward into darkness.

"Hey you, know anything about this? Where does this thing lead?" Vashtblaff rudely addressed Hendrikvor while spitting on his own hands to get rid of the dust left on his fingers.

"I'm afraid I dont know the details. Grandfather had a certain... role, in the church's hierarchy. He didnt have the liberty to divulge where he was going nor what he was up to on a regular basis. I often tried to avoid any sensitive subject regarding the church of lady Hilda to not offend him. However, I think I might have a hunch. He often performed what was defined as a miracle healing ritual every so often. Part of his current condition has been caused by his frequent use of his powers during such an occasion".

"Miracle healing ritual huh? What a ridiculous name. I bet that was some kind of tribal orgy!" Vashtblaff smiled maliciously as if his joke had been the best thing anyone said at that moment.

"Whatever the case may be, I'll shed a light on this. By tomorrow morning everyone will know what kind of monstruosity is hidden beneath the cathedral. I must thank you for your service, elector Hendrickvor. Without your connections we wouldnt have been able to look into this".

"Please dont think of me as a co-conspirator. I was merely following a lead to help lord Flannar. It just so happened that my path crossed my grandfather's. And I would greatly appreciate it if you could refrain from divulging the details of your findings with the general populace. We must appropriately filter any and all discoveries to not cause unnecessary chaos, especially now".

"Yes yes I get it. Move along already, dont let me stop you. Do what you have to do, just dont get in the way of our investigation".

Hendrickvor and Bellmor exchanged looks, then the former knelt in front of the latter.

"My sincerest apologies, good friend. I didnt expect this encounter to turn so unpleasant.

Please be at ease, I'll be outside taking a stroll. Should anything happen, do not hesitate to contact me. I'll be sure to take you out of here".

Bellmor smiled gently as he took Hendrickvor's hands.

"You're too kind for your own good. Dont worry about me, I'm used to it by now. There have been much worse instances of ingratitude in my life. What's important right now is that the healing ritual succeeds".

A few minutes later, the area was finally ready for him to exercise his magic abilities.

As Bellmor casted his preparatory spells and enchanted his surgical tools, Vashtblaff descended into a sea of blackness.

He was not afraid in the least, for his natural night vision granted him the ability to see in the dark. Not only that, his body was naturally resistant to any spell based on evil alignments, and his strong constitution had been the very reason why he was chosen as second in command of the militia. While he technically wasnt the head of the army, one could argue that Vashtblaff had more than enough courage and might in him to be considered an honorary general in chief.

When he reached the end of the long stairway, he sought after the nearest source of light.

He found one not too far away, near a large wooden door that was guarded by a high priest.

"Greetings. I'm here as a representative of the people above the surface. Kindly let me pass if you please. If you refuse, I might have to smash this door".

"How rude of you, sir hero. You should know that the church of lady Hilda has nothing to hide.

Proceed at your leisure, although I must warn you... you might find something unpleasant inside".

The high priest didnt lose his composure. He seemed unaffected by Vashtblaff's presence or perhaps he simply was uncaring as he moved aside.

"If you had nothing to hide, you would've let that trapdoor wide open for anyone to see. Still, I'm intrigued by what you just said. Unpleasant huh? Let's see".

Vashtblaff's curiosity peaked as he entered the dimly lit area before him. What he found inside was nothing short of shocking.

A large slab of granite sat at the center of the room, covered in blood. A bed of flowers, emanating a poignant smell, had been put all around it.

The first thing Vashtblaff saw were a pair of familiar feet dangling at the side of the slab of granite.

"No way... the little brat is dead... this is... damn!"

Indeed, coming a bit closer, he acknowledged his discovery with the tiniest amount of pity in his heart.

The corpse laying down in that makeshift autopsy table belonged to Asta, the old major's - and his own - adoptive daughter. Her torso was intact, as well as her legs and part of her arms. However, from the shoulders to the base of the neck, deep cuts had slashed open the flesh all the way up to the bone. The head had been severed and there it stood, almost perfectly preserved, placed above the remnants of her clavicles.

"... I told you to stay put. But you wouldnt listen to anything I said. This is your own fault. Following that blabbering buffoon of a mayor instead of me has been the worst mistake yuo could've ever done. But I guess you've figured out as much now, huh?"

Vashtblaff muttered these words while contemplating the corpse with curiosity and a tiny hint of sarcasm. He found it ironic that she fell victim to someone's schemes, no dobut to prevent lord Flannar from coming back, since she was the one secretly planning on escaping the Star City in the first place.

"Wasnt she your daughter, oh mighty hero?" the high priest inquired.

"Nah. She was... someone I have been entrusted to. But what do you care anyway? Priests of the church of lady Hilda cant have kids. You wouldnt understand".

"Oh believe me, I do. I have been entrusted with special children as well, you see".

"Special? In what way?"

"It exists a clear distinction between human beings, elves and Elves of Purity. The process of awakening of our powers requires certain rituals. But I digress. You'll be witness to one yourself in the future, I'm sure".

"We'll see about that. For now I'm just glad she is still intact. This means she can be resurrected, right?"

"That was what the archbishop intended to do, yes. If your associates manage to heal his wounds then all will be alright".

"And if they cant?"

"In that case... you might face severe consequences. But that is not for me to decide. The gods will see through it with their merciful warmth".

"Merciful... ha. When have the gods ever been merciful anyway?"

Vashtblaff didnt wait for the high priest's response. Instead, he kept on exploring the nearby rooms sniffing in every corner like a hungry dog. Corpses, many corpses. Scent of children, blood, stench of the elderly, death and finally, the smell of tears. His acute sense of smell let him recognize all of that. Once he had a pretty clear picture of what had been happening inside these obscure cells, he felt somewhat satisfied. However, he didnt want to interfere, not right then and there. He needed time to process their motives, get more intel on the archbishop, and most importantly, he needed to prepare the army for the upcoming battle. The Sorcerer King must've been waiting for them outside the city borders. So, as his beastly nature called for action, he realized the one truth of the situation.

"If I cant press any charges against the church, I cannot interrogate the archbishop until this mess is over, and I have no way of contacting lord Flannar directly... that means that the fate of the city rests solely upon my shoulders. This... is actually incredibly exciting!"

Vashtblaff's expression went from wild but resolute, to absolutely insane. In his deep irises one could only find an endless lust for blood and vengeance.

He finished his search and, without stopping by the high priest still guarding her adoptive daughter's corpse, he ran upstairs jumping steps at a rate of five to ten at a time.

He came into view of young Bellmor Drykven as he was about to end his ritual, absorbed deep in concentration.

"Let's not disturb the little brat then... I look forward to seeing that old, putrid sack of lard revived. Now onwards, to victory!" his heart ached for resolution. He jumped as high as a bird, his hands quickly grabbed onto the highest set of pillars still intact that dominated the center of the cathedral, and from there he jumped off again onto one of the large windows that had been destroyed during the night. He landed on all fours at a hundred meters away from the cathedral, creating heavy dustbowls all around his body upon impact. With that beastly position, he sprinted as fast as the wind and reached the headquarters of the militia, avoiding any and all streets. The rooftops and cimneys were his personal passage to where he wanted to go.

There was nothing more liberating and exhilarating than being able to move this fast and so freely, the only thing that could top it would have been being able to kill the Sorcerer King himself. He felt the urge to restrain a wild animal, to tear apart a beast... to feast on one of the Sorcerer King's lieutenants. He had heard rumors about them; apparently, they were a large enough group to scare off even the most valiant knight. It was said that only one of them could tear apart a nation. But he was convinced that those were just rumors, probably fostered by a long streak of victories on the battlefield. Some said they looked like animals, one of them was a literal beetle of gigantic proportions. That notion alone made him even more excited.

As he entered the headquarters, little more than a couple of fortified buildings with a set of houses protected by iron gates, he stormed the armory and immediately inspected all blades that were stored inside. Then, after calling all of his subordinates, fifteen among the most brave and strong men in the city, he addressed them with words of fury.

"You call yourselves protectors of the city-state? Ha! What nonsense. Maggots, that's what you are! I left you here in good faith for about two months looking for new challenges, hoping to come back and look at you in the eyes as my equals. But I see no equal in here. You've been slacking off all day, have you?! Your swords arent polished enough, your muskets have not been used in ages, and whats worse our rifles, the trump card of the nation, have not been moved from the municipal arsenal to here yet. What the hell are you guys trying to pull? Want to start a mutiny or something?! If so, you'll have to respond directly to me!"

Everyone was deeply afraid for their safety. Although they trusted his judgement, whenever Vashtblaff was seen like that, there was no stopping him in his ramblings. He could go on for hours on end, and if anyone dared oppose him, he would simply smack them in their face with such force that they'd end up slammed against the wall.

"Then... what are our orders, sir?" one of his men finally spoke, interrupting his elaborate train of thought.

"Ah, sure, sure you're right. I need to issue orders now. Well! Soldiers, hear my commands! I need you to recover all available rifles from the municipal arsenal and store them in our armory. Then, I urge you to train as hard as you can for the next ten days while calling all able bodied men to action. Nobody shall be spared, from the age of fifteen to fifty, I want them all enlisted. If women want to give up their right and be thrown in the battlefield, I welcome their patriotic spirit as well".

"That will be troublesome. What about the nobles? And the merchant guild? They've been opposing our efforts for the past few days. It seems as though the new head of the guild doesnt like lord Flannar meddling in their affairs".

"What's that supposed to mean? That is preposterous! Who's in charge of the guild now?!"

"It's... some woman, we dont know the details. But it is certain that she was voted head of the guild by unanimous vote. It would seem that she's been very popular with the merchants from the very beginning. Some say she's the daughter of a great businessman distributing her riches among the merchants in exchange for favors and political influence".

"This is madness! Do we have time to think about politics now?! The heart of the nation is being attacked and all they care about is money?! I wont stand for this. Assemble a platoon armed to the teeth and march to the guildmaster's quarters at once. Make sure your men are presentable and that they look menacing enough. Dont threaten them, unless they strike first. You are allowed to use force if necessary".

"This seems a sound plan sir, it shall be done". The few still brave enough to speak mustered the courage to tell Vashtblaff that his genius was obviously right. There was no opposing him, after all. And with that, the large, strong, rough ogre-looking man grabbed the nearest sword from one of his subordinates and left.

"Dont disappoint me. With all the fuss in the cathedral and the agitation amongst the merchants, it is clear now that the Sorcerer King draws nearer. I estimate that we have more or less ten to fifteen days, maybe a full month in the best case scenario. So I want you to hasten all preparations and assemble the militia at full strength by then. There is no telling whether the church of lady Hilda will help us out or not, but if they try anything they shall be dealt with by me personally. So keep your eyes peeled. The enemy is all around us, stay vigilant and keep your wits high!"

Everyone nodded as he jumped off the stairs with the vivacity of a kid eager to run off in the fileds to play. As soon as his imposing presence was out of their sight however, they sighed, looking at each other with ever worrying thoughts.

"So, what should we do now?"

"What do you mean? We do what we're told. I dont know about you but I sure feel the need to feed my kids this month".

"Such materialism... you know, if the Sorcerer King wins we may end up not having anything to feed ourselves with at all".

"And what would you suggest instead? Just surrender?"

"Why not? Isnt that a reasonable thing to do in this situation?"

"Baaaah, forget it! We are wasting time over nothing! There must be a solution to all this. The nobles, the merchants, the war... all at once. It cannot be a coincidence, I tell you".

"You're too paranoid. We need to think about one problem at a time".

"I agree but then, what do we do?"

The conversation appeared to have moved in circles. A long silence followed, then the tallest man in the group, with long pointy moustaches, put himself at the center of attention.

"This isnt getting us anywhere, gentlemen. Let's do what we must in a sensible way. First, retrieving the equipment from the municipal's arsenal. That we must do quickly. Secondly, training. There is no telling whether we can truly expect ten days of peace, so I would suggest that we consolidate what we already have. How many are left in your districts?"

"On active duty? I have... 20 patrols, two musketeer companies on leave, and a handful of policemen in office duty".

Everyone shared their respective information. A rough estimate was then put in place.

"Alright gentlemen. We have about 8.000 troops that can be mobilized immediately with reasonable training. 4.500 more can be achieved within a month. Which puts us at about 12.500 men at the absolute maximum capacity. While it does sound promising, you know this wont be enough. So... our only long term solution would be stalling the Sorcerer King's troops for as long as we can until lord Flannar comes in. Do we agree on this?"

Everyone nodded firmly. That seemed sound reasoning. The only thing left to wonder was the question of the nobles and the merchant guild.

"I think... we need to stick to Vashtblaff's plan. There is no way we'll be able to avoid this. Either he'll beat us senseless and accuse us of insubordination, or we'll beat the merchants senseless and accuse them of treason. It's either them or us, we have to do this as quickly and painlessly as possible".

"Agreed. But then how do we do it?"

"We'll march on the guild tonight, when everyone is fast asleep. After all they're just a bunch of merchants, what can they even do to us? We only need to surprise them and confirm that no suspicious activity is being conducted inside".

The verdict was unanimous. Everyone agreed to the plan and started their own preparations for each district of the city.

While this was happening, long gone from the hearts and minds of his men, Vashtblaff didnt waste any time; he had started scouting the plains around the city with ever growing impatience, assisted by a small team of cavalrymen of his choosing. There appeared to have been bands of misfits lurking around in the outskirts, hiding in the rocky formations at the edge of the forest. Something suspicious was going on, according to the rumors.

"If I cant do anything else but sit and wait for the Sorcerer King to show up, I might as well have some fun" he thought, eagerly investigating the natural caves in and around the designed areas in search of a sign of misconduct. Anything would have sufficed: he would have gladly beaten someone to a pulp if he had found out the smallest amount of evidence to incriminate anyone in the perimeter.

As it happened, he finally found someone worthy of his interest. A gentleman with a finely crafted orange coat, wearing a distinctive outfit that he had never seen before, was inspecting some rocks near a peculiar entrance, possibly artificial. He observed him for a while from a safe distance. His composed demeanour, slow but precise movements and attentive look reminded him of a very meticulous person that knows their stuff.

Despite Vashtblaff's accurate observations, it took him a while before realizing that the creature he was looking at had in fact a tail and pointy ears.

"Hmmm, could he be part of the elder Elves of Purity? I do not know all of their racial traits but they sure look ugly".

Despite his incommensurable will to just run up there and smash his victim's head with his bare fists, he exercised a lot of restraint on himself and decided to show up in a civilized manner, to at least give a semblance of legitimacy to what he was about to do.

"Hold it right there, citizen! Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The person he was addressing slowly turned towards him. He smiled, touching his chin with his index finger as if he were thinking of something neat.

"I beg you pardon? Who am I speaking to?" Vashtblaff wasnt sure, but it seemed as if the replied he just received came from multiple directions, including his back.

"I'm a representative of the law. If you dont know me, then it means that you are either a trespasser or a visitor. So, which one is it? Are you here to stir up trouble or enter our great city in peace?"

"Neither. I'm here to observe".

"And what exactly are you observing?"

"Rocks".

"Is this guy mocking me?" Vashtblaff's blood started to boil. He clenched his fist but didnt dare make a move yet.

"What purpose do you have in our city?"

"Currently I'm not in your city, representative of the law".

"But you will enter, sooner or later. Or are you suggesting that staying in the plains is preferable to our graceful hospitality?"

"I am not suggesting anything. But perhaps you'd want to look behind you now".

"Huh? The oldest trick in the book? So he really wants to attack me after all!" Vashtblaff finally had an excuse. He went to pull out his sword but then, his acute senses told him to turn around immediately and so he did.

He managed to slash at something just in the nick of time before his back had been pierced. Then he realized that what the stranger had told him was true; two bandits armed with short daggers had spotted him and went silently behind his back with the clear intent of killing him. His sword hit both in a single strike, slashing their throats.

"Damn that was closer than it should have been. How come I didnt sense them on time? I should've been able to do that flawlessly".

He was perplexed and slightly worried. That was the first time his senses had failed him, and even more worrying still was that stranger's voice. It felt suave and calming, while at the same time terrifying.

He turned to face him, but that person was gone. Vashtblaff searched far and wide in the plain, to no avail.

"I'm seeing ghosts now? What the hell is happening here... Bah, I need to forget this. He probably was a magic caster. If he wanted to kill me he could've done it immediately. You know what, I'll switch to a smaller target. I bet my subordinates' monthly pay that these caves are full of bandits".

He acted upon it immediately; recalling his cavalrymen, he went into all of the caves which had the tiniest bit of light coming out of them, whether by virtue of refraction or reflection. Simply put, he was obsessed with his frustrations and had no way to convey them to anyone, nor let off that heavy burden.

Thankfully for him, he found plenty of real bandits and mercenaries inside doing all kinds of shady deals. It was no mere coincidence in fact, that someone as powerful as a magic caster would've been seen in that area, he thought. Mercenaries often needed magical aid in battle, or on the field to perform trickeries and scams alike.

Using his fury and his fists, he disposed of the majority of them, thus finally releasing all that pent up pressure. He smashed heads, tore up torsos, broke legs and enslaved female bandits to his will. Once he had finished applying his very own justice, he took some coins away from the scene and divided them among his cavalrymen, who were equally eager to enact vengeance for the stupidest reasons.

"Ah! Today has been a good day my friends! Let us all celebrate with good wine and fine women!" he bursted out laughing while spanking a female prisoner with gusto, "Make sure to save at least half of the gold coins. It needs to be put to good use, after all. Remember, we are ultimately serving the militia and the good people of our great nation".

"Yes! To the nation!" his men replied, already soaked in drunkenness.

It was a mere maniple of 500 cavalrymen, little more than a company of horse, however they were all, for better or worse, used to pillaging, killing, molesting and enslaving. Some of them had been borrowed from the Falsjago family line, others were willing conscripts who were being promised days of free torture and depravity in exchange for a job well done. In either case, those were scum of the earth, according to human laws. However, Vashtblaff consoidered them a bunch of good for nothing kids who were in dire need of discipline, nothing more, nothing less. As long as he was around, he would've been able to control them and bend them to his will, as his personal unit in the army. And if the situation called for it, he would have gladly sacrificed all of them to stop the Sorcerer King's advance.

At that moment, a brilliant idea struck his brain: he would have waited there for the enemy to appear, instead of sitting idle in his headquarters back home for ten days.

"I need to wait for my men to finish any kind of proper training before moving on to the next phase. And the Drykven kid hasnt finished with his resurrection yet. Let's take one more step to prevent the Sorcerer King from coming into the city. Once the situation with the merchants' guild has been quelled, I'll set camp here just outside the city's borders, and then devise a series of traps for the enemy. Marvelous, yes that's a genius move".

He intended to dig ditches, make up trenches, set up wooden palisades and take the artillery out of the city to put it directly in front of the gates. That way, he thought, nobody would dare even approach his great nation.

And the fact that he had to defend only one city was in fact his biggest advantage. There were only three entrances, from the north, south, and east. Of course there were plenty of caves and secret passages underneath where the catacombs stood, but who would even think about entering from beneath the ground?

"No true ruler would ever put his men through mud and darkness willingly. The Sorcerer King cant just expect to dig up a tunnel and catch us by surprise, traversing the whole of the catacombs. That would be truly ridiculous" Vashtblaff thought so with deep conviction, "but just in case, I'll send a squad of scouts to verify this".

Reveling in his own glory, marveling at his tactical genius and completely, utterly ready to confront the enemy lieutenants, he ordered his cavalrymen to set camp there for the rest of the day. He would soon sleep in the plain to quell his grumbling stomach and enjoy the brief moments of peace that him and his city still had. Soon, he told himself, the milita would need to rise up against lord Flannar's opposition and enact the will of the gods in full. He was already tasting the sweet scent of the money exacted from the corrupted church, the pillaging at the Sorcerer King's expense, and on top of it all, the sense of justice he derived from it. A shot of endorphin directly to his cortex, better than women, better than killing. He, way more than the Judge himself, felt the need to be the best at what he did: destroy the enemy and restore peace, at all costs.

With that in mind, Vashtblaff the hero finally fell asleep. As soon as he closed his eyes, he immediately felt at peace with the world. His heart was already beating slower than normal, his brain descended into rem phase. It felt like any and all sounds suddenly faded, as well as all sensations from his limbs.

"What a peaceful day... I wish this day would last forever".

"Oh, really? Well then, your wish might as well be granted at this point".

Someone had whispered into his ear. Or perhaps it was directly in front of him? Vashtblaff couldnt comprehend.

In a moment, the stranger he saw earlier, a fine gentleman with big crystal eyeglasses and exotic orange suit, appeared before him. He seemed to be walking in his direction, slowly, his hands behind his back. He looked confident and relaxed.

"Greetings representative of the law. This intermission wasnt planned, I just wanted to test whether my spells could work at this distance or not. I'll leave soon".

"Huh? Leave? Where to?"

"Nowhere concerning you. Tell me, are you the only protector of the city?"

"Uh, no, of course not. But I'm the greatest, and the most feared! You will soon see my mighty army march to battle into the sun and win the day for our great nation!"

"Hm, I see. So there really is nobody else more powerful than you?"

"No I tell you, only the gods would be as powerful as me. Although, the only one still around is lord Flannar, hah, that little shit couldnt stand a chance against me. But he has his magic on his side. Whatever the case may be, he is not physically more fit than me. In short, I'm the muscle, he is the mind, and then there's the army..."

"Oh, splendid. This information is very valuable. Thank you for telling me".

"What are you planning to do with what I just told you, stranger? You visit me in my sleep with your petty little magic tricks but you dont even dare answer my questions. You ran away before, but you cant do the same now, since you're in my head".

The stranger suddenly stopped advancing. He looked directly at Vashtblaff with a smirk.

"True, I am inside your head. But there is nothing here, apparently. So I can just get out at my leisure".

The man turned his back to Vashtblaff and walked away.

"Hey! Come back here! You cant just say that and leave me! I demand a duel! We need to settle this now!"

"So you would challenge me? Are you sure?" the stranger stopped again, this time he kept giving his back to Vashtblaff.

"Hell yes I would! In fact, wait till I wake up and I'll make you regret it".

"Ah, if that's the only hiccup, then let me assist you".

The stranger snapped his fingers, and just like that, Vashtblaff's eyes opened. He was standing still, in the same spot he used to sleep. The stranger was right in front of him, at the same distance he was during his dream.

"Well then, shall we begin? Show me something interesting. I will give you five seconds".

"Wha-"

"4...3..."

"Hmph. Just like that huh? Fine! Frostward Spike! Ascending Inferno! River of Lust! Balthus's Fury!"

As he invoked his Martial Arts, Vashtblaff started sweating. He wasnt expecting a real duel so soon, but part of him was really excited for the opportunity. His muscles grew exponentially, his height exceeded 3 meters, his fingernails acquired stone-like properties, his fingertips started glowing crimson red as a fiery burst erupted from his palms. His feral eyes mutated into solid blocks of glowing lava, a large crest made entirely of spiky metal grew on his head. By the end of it all, he looked like a monstrous demonic entity with his face partially melting into flashing bursts of never ending lava.

"...and 1. Time's up I'm afraid. Please take care not to stain the suit".

Vashtblaff felt like that moment was exhilarating. He jumped at the stranger with all his might, at the peak of his strength, fully rested and animated by anger.

"This is retribution, magic caster! Take back what you said!" he roared while striking a bolt of magma and rocks at the stranger.

Cold. The self proclaimed hero of the Star City felt incredibly cold, even amidst pure lava. The lavic fumes emerging from his throat would just freeze before reaching his nostrils. Everything around him spun, then the scenario lost its colour. He was looking at a world in black and white. For just a split second, he saw a very young Asta, almost an infant, waving at him.

"Stupid brat. I should've taken you into custody by force. Why... why did you follow that old man... lord Flannar, was I not enough? I've b-"

A loud splashing noise woke up everyone in the makeshift camp on the plain just outside of the city walls. The cavalrymen looked at the source of the sound in horror and shock; Vashtblaff's body had been torn open from the neck all the way down to his hips. His organs, as well as his flaming flesh covered in darkened rocks and lava, melted away into nothingness as soon as they reached the ground. A puddle of blood, magma and fleshy stones soon formed where their commander used to stand. His head, still intact, rolled over a small hill and stopped. His face had been completely melted. The only thing that remained was his lower lip, where his mouth used to be.

Everyone screamed and shouted angrily as they ventured closer to inspect the scene. Only one man stood where he was. The stranger, displaying a satisfied smirk, moved one of his hands to his cravat and shook it a little.

"You shouldnt have picked this fight, if you had no confidence in winning it. Excitement alone is better left to monkeys such as yourselves".

Upon hearing that, most of the cavalrymen tried approaching him from multiple sides, as if numbers could overcome the odds.

"Hmm. Apparently I'm outnumbered. Let's even the odds, shall we?"

With that said, the stranger called forth a blinding blaze of light. From it, something unnatural and extremely evil emerged. The bystanders were immediately overwhelmed by a great sense of dread and madness that violently shook their morale and urged them to flee the scene.

"Kindly dispose of them if you please. Next, come back to the camp, I have new orders for you".

The creature who had been summoned nodded firmly. Tall, muscular and beautiful looking, the young man wielded his scythe with pride, and with it assaulted and massacred all the fleeing cavalrymen, picking them one by one with extreme cruelty.

As he made his way up the gentle slope that would have taken him back to base, Demiurge saw someone running at him with great speed and agitation.

"What is it Entoma? I told you not to leave the camp unless it's extremely urgent".

"Ah! Lord Demiurge! It's terrible! Lord Mare... he..."

"Hmm? What about him?"

"Lord Mare is injured! He has been injured in battle!"

Demiurge stopped. For a moment, it felt like reality itself had a weight of its own. And he was feeling all of it crushing his chest.

"What are you saying? That's impossible!"

"But it's the truth! Please go look for yourself, this is very bad!"

"To harm Mare of all guardians... that is... but how, I didnt foresee... Let me have a look at him, dont tell anything to lord Ainz until we are absolutely certain of what is going on".

Demiurge felt the urge to punish himself in any way possible, but he restrained his own hands because he had to ascertain the situation first. If what Entoma had told him really was true, then there would be war. A war so great that nothing would stop him from seeing the whole city destroyed and all of its inhabitants reduced to ash, time and time again. He would ensure a victory so complete that lord Ainz would be able to kill his opponents over and over for all eternity. And whoever was responsible for harming Mare, would have received the highest, most atrocious punishment he could conceive.