A/N) Shoot. Ain't got much free time til' July. Typing up a storm around 1 in the morning, drunk more often than not. Maybe this'll update more when July comes around, but for now, this speed will have to do. Since I've got no access to the wiki or the source material, this might be a bit off. Lemme know if that's the case. Worst case scenario, I'll have to rewrite.

I also saw a 'Guest' comment before posting the chapter, wondering what "powerful POPs" were. This is in reference to a term used in the Overlord novel (maybe in Japan's gaming community?), that term being "POP-monster." Aka the disposable, infinitely spawning fodder that populates dungeons (Nazarick), such as the Vampire Brides or the Frost Virgins.

"Powerful POP" meaning "the more powerful disposable fodder".


Chapter 13 - Putrid Bloom

Cassian Ambrose Devraught was not a thrill-seeker, adrenaline junkie nor possessor of a martyr complex. ...In spite of Yon's claims otherwise. Being pulled towards this particular mission was, in part, a matter of nostalgia as opposed to some fanciful pursuit of doing good.

Maybe it was curiosity or mere pity that had drawn the eye— such a curious subject finding itself right at his doorstep.

...As was the case for the missing brother they were supposed to find, Ceyx "Wildsoar".

A noble.

How very fitting.

Curious case as it was, nobles paying a pittance to seek a supposedly missing family member, someone who was little more than a footnote complicating whatever inheritance he featured in.

So what was it this time? An absence of three months would be more than enough for a man to be written off as dead— and the disgruntled ex-noble was not naive enough to assume that there was anybody sympathetic in the den of snakes from which Ceyx was kicked.

After all, Cassian (or 'Bard', as it were) knew better than anybody else present just how savagely self-serving nobles could be when all the finery and etiquette was stripped back. The good ones didn't last— for those in power did not get ahead by respecting their fellow man.

But in the end, curiosity had won out against plain old reason.

Cassian scratched a scruffy chin in contemplation, craning his neck to see the sky past the looming building, the din of conversation now quite far away from his ears.

Simply put: Something was up.

That much had been obvious from the word 'go', with how they had referred to their family name as 'Wildsoar' as opposed to the formal translation in Variant Draconian— an act usually reserved for less official situations.

...And the weird things didn't stop there.

If this had been a matter of inheritance as Bard had originally assumed, simply declaring the third son as deceased would be as easy as one two three, when nobody had seen his face for three months or so. ...Which meant it couldn't be about that.

Especially when there existed less plainly transparent ways to go about such a delicate situation. A worker or mercenary team, for instance, would be more discreet and certainly more willing to ensure a 'desired outcome', so to speak.

After having spent several days contemplating whether or not it was worth getting involved with the constant quibbling of pure-blooded duchy cabals again, the team that had accepted the request had vanished. —And after that, curiosity won out against self-preservation.

Ceyx had not been disowned nor forced to accept a piece of horridly inconvenient territory, meaning that this exile may very well have been self-imposed. Either way, the caster wanted to find out.

'The building seems generous enough to house a few servants as well. ...Though the dead meadow does not bode well.'

Cassian sighed, not wanting to wait any longer. "That won't be necessary. I vote we just break down the door," he cut into the team's little debate all while eyeing the dark warrior who stood distracted in front of the entrance. Unsurprisingly, a few half-hearted disagreements came from the group, which was to be expected.

'No matter. Be it now or ten hours from now, they shall reach the same conclusion eventually. But with the current circumstance...?'

"I mean... If the man's still alive and comes back to a broken door, that wouldn't be great. Do you know how difficult it'd be to get a new one out here? No cart is getting through, he'll have to make it from scratch!" Karatus protested. "...Though I guess the sawmill might help with that. Or maybe just a druid that can grow a door?"

"Pretty big 'if'," Milla fired back, though Bard wasn't sure if she was observant or impatient. The excommunicated noble shared in that disquietude, as the dead meadow— so indicative of potential undead— did not set his heart at ease.

"Could go through the window if we must. ...Would a window be easier or harder to replace?" Yon thought out loud, wandering over to the closest one before he had to get on his toes in order to peer inside. "Geh— the shutter inside is closed, too dark ta' see anything."

With a knitted brow, Cassian waded through the grass, closing the gap between him and the more leisurely part of the group. Though judging by how they kept their weapons handy and their smiles strained, 'leisurely' may not have been the word for it.

"...Things clearly aren't safe here." Bard declared, leaving no room for arguing. "The sooner we complete the mission, the sooner we are able to leave. I shouldn't have to remind you that several iron-rank—"

CRASH

The almost ear-piercing sound of splintering wood tore through the meadow's fragile quiet, causing everyone present to startle to their feet, weapons drawn.

Heads whipped around towards the source of the sound fast enough to cause whiplash, though what met their eyes was not a potential hostile, but rather the dark warrior looming over the powdered remains of the front door.

"Apologies," the newbie adventurer rumbled, taking a step back from the scene of the crime. "—That was louder than what I had intended." The entire group, save for Shizuka, stood staring gormless at him before Milla began guffawing.

'D-did he kick it?' Cassian wondered, a nervous eye trained on the pulverized remains.

It had been made of roughly carved oak, which was easy enough to discern. ...And while his forte did not lie in physical prowess as was the case for the melee combatants, it was not difficult to tell that the door was not so brittle as to shatter so easily. The discarded lock of faded bronze that now lied in the grass crumpled like tissue paper was a testament to this.

"Momon, what in Gods' names are you doing?!" Karatus scolded the very second he recovered.

The rookie adventurer shrugged almost disinterestedly, tossing aside the warped handle and lowering his visor again. "...Inspecting the door." He deadpanned.

"Insp—!" Yon interrupted his own shocked uttering by taking a deep (and presumably therapeutic) breath. "Aye. Ye inspected it alright. Needn't pick it apart and inspect the inside as well." Biting as his tone was, there was an introspective gleam in his eye, seemingly weighing Shizuka's statement about the dark warrior's strength.

"Haha! Well, guess that argument is over!" Milla slung her great sword over her shoulder and waltzed towards the copper adventurer. "Might as well, right?" She questioned and lazily gestured towards the new entrance.

"Yeah. ...Guess so. What's done is done." The archer reluctantly agreed with a slightly hesitant expression before heaving a sigh and stuffing his deck of cards back into his rucksack. "...Heavens damn it, Momon... Don't just act on your own like that! The team is here specifically to veto stupid decisions!"

Karatus looked ready to deliver another round of scolding before Momon interrupted by waving him over.

"...Hey, don't—!"

"Nobody has been here for some time. Now come over here."

With but a moment of hesitation, the ranger approached the dark warrior and his little companion. Of course the team leader's eyes fell on Karatus and the rest of the group crowding around their newfound means of ingress— with Momon turning slightly to the side so that Shizuka's shorter stature would be able to see.

The first to actually speak up ended up being Milla. "Oh lord, did something die in there? ...Is it the weirdo hermit?"

"...Could be that something in the pantry went bad." Karatus suggested uneasily upon having caught a whiff of the stale air within the building. "Was this why you broke down the door, Momon?"

With but a moments hesitation the mage stepped forward, joining the crowd that had gathered around the entrance, peering over Karatus' shoulder and into the murky darkness of the overlarge cabin. Though the door had since been obliterated courtesy of Momon's foot 'slipping', the light that streamed through the gaping door frame (and the shoddy wooden shutters covering the windows) was not enough to fully illuminate the darkened space.

"We're going in." Bard suddenly declared, not wanting to wait around any longer. The mage sighed. "Even if have received explicit permission, and even if we are technically abiding by all laws and regulations, I must remind you all that any potential inhabitant is likely to consider us trespassers."

"Ah, to don our weaponry and legally storm someone's private property. May the Gods bless the legal system." A scoff could be heard from Momon along with a snicker from Yon.

'Indeed.' Cassian internally murmured. 'Gods bless this legal system. Built by Her Majesty and subsequently gored by the corrupt. Any more loopholes and we'll be dealing with a sieve rather than a set of restrictive laws.'

"Technically, our employer possesses the deed required to legally perform such a maneuver. But that is no reason to eschew mindfulness." A few affirmations trickled out as the group prepared to enter, with Momon stepping up to take the lead.

"...I don't believe that we'll have to worry about angry residents." The copper-ranked adventurer stated cryptically. "—Shizuka has a... Skill for scouting out potential hostiles. Nobody should be home right now. ...Of course, we should still be prepared for traps and monsters whose abilities allow them to avoid detection."

Accepting that explanation, the others followed Momon's lead, preparing to enter.

The gold-ranked mage paused as he witnessed the rag-tag bunch disappearing through the door, physical combatants leading the way— only Yon staying outside to wait for him. No longer was the tall grass swaying in the wind, and with the conversation having moved into the building itself, the meadow was left completely silent. Bard's lips curved downwards into a tense frown.

Even if no amount of scouting ahead had revealed anything, that didn't make this 'safe'. Sometimes jobs go wrong. And as gold or platinum ranked adventurers one would expect such things. —When you're pursuing one thing and end up running into another.

The problem was that Cherry Stem has gotten used to confronting situations that could no longer be classified as existential threats, being instead unexpected plights that were easy enough to solve without risking anything.

(Cassian had to wonder how long that would last.)

"Oi. Are ya coming?"

"I am." The caster tapped his staff against the splinter-adorned stone flooring by the entrance, and finally stepped into the murk, the dwarf following suit.

Even with the sky being as overcast as it was, there was a rather severe difference between the grey but still bright day outside and the gloomy murk of the building.

Before his eyes could adjust to the impenetrable darkness his sense of smell was put to work, picking up on what the others had spoken of moments prior.

A particularly stale musk indicated that this place may not have been lived in for a while, and that it may have a problem with mildew. But working in tandem with the musty bouquet was the stench of something sweet that seemed to grow more prominent— a stomach churning odour that caused a mild sense of nausea to well up from the pit of Cassian's gut.

Something faintly reminiscent of a wet market having gone bad.

Instinctively, the adventurer reached for a handkerchief only to come up empty, instead settling for inelegantly clenching his nose shut between a thumb and an index finger. That being said, nobody else seemed too bothered— the scent being far too subtle to draw any visible reaction, save for the ranger wrinkling his nose.

And when his eyes finally got used to the gloom, the dreary sight that met his eyes was not far from what he had been expecting. Though the interior may not have been in a state of outright disrepair, it didn't exactly feel lived in. They were stood in a sparsely decorated foyer that was separated from the rest of the house by yet another door that was ajar.

A perfectly functional abode if one disregarded the fact that everything coated in a fine layer of dust, indicating that nobody had been through for some time. And though wax-candle holders and magic chandeliers hung from the ceiling the only source of light was the daylight that came streaming through the wooden window shutters and the busted front door.

Even the walls, starting off as sturdy cobblestone near the base and turning to wood above a certain point, were in some advanced states of disrepair. Be it the fractured and cracked stone or the outright broken wooden planks that allowed one to see the insulation used in the very walls.

...A rather far cry from the opulence typically associated with nobility.

"Bard." Karatus bit out. "A little light? It's quite dim."

"Ah, apologies. I was merely..." The caster inspected his surroundings with a pensive expression. "...Drinking in the sights. [Mage Light]." He spoke, allowing a small sphere of light to spawn from the end of his staff— further illuminating the dingy space they've found themselves in. The only comfort found here was how light streamed through the doorway Momon had so casually shredded, but with this, the murk felt a little less overwhelming.

Acting swiftly, a [Mage Light] was attached to each of their left collarbones to allow for greater visibility— with little Shizuka seeming particularly enamoured by the new bauble.

"Oh great." Milla voice was just above a whisper, not wanting to rouse any potential inhabitants of the abandoned house that hadn't already been rudely disturbed by Momon vaporising their front door. "How long will this one take to wash out?"

"No time at all, if you allow it to expire naturally." Cassian found himself saying with a dry voice, repeating this specific conversation for the umpteenth time. "It'll be a little difficult to get off otherw—"

The mage needed a double take as Shizuka simply took off the orb of light before giving it a few experimental squeezes and tosses without having it stick. "Uwah." She exclaimed, somehow managing to sound both neutral and excited. "It feels weird."

"Grh." Yon grumbled. "How come it doesn't stick to the little one like glue?!"

"She has experience with adhesives." Momon returned, earning him a few confused looks. "Do not let her get close with her stickers." Though nobody present was sure what a 'sticker' was, the deadpan delivery sold the idea of it not being a particularly nice thing.

"...First the bear-hugging and log-hauling and now this." Bard heard Yon mumble under his breath, freezing up slightly as he attempted to parse what the dwarven adventurer had said.

'Bear-hugging?'

Recovering from the influx of positively bizarre information, the caster merely sighed before refocusing at the task at hand. "...Momon, if I may, the severity of this situation has grown somewhat. Could I ask you and Milla to take the lead?"

With the dark warrior being so heavily armoured relative to his companions was a boon in this regard.

The armour clad warrior merely returned a terse nod and an awfully relaxed hum before stepping forward to clear a path if need be.

"Alright. Do we feel prepared?" He was pleased to receive only nods. "Remember to check your corners and do not simply assume it to be safe just because preemptive measures did not yield any significant results." With that, Milla held onto her great sword with a more proper grip, being the first through the door closely followed by Momon.

The dark warrior reached past the redhead and gently pushed the foyer's half-open door, allowing it to swing open with a creak.

"Huh." Karatus mumbled. "...Looks nicer when you get past the entrance hall." And Cassian had to concur.

Whereas the very first hall had little more than a shoe rack, a raggedy mat and walls looking ready to crumble things got a little nicer once you moved further in— assuming you were willing to overlook the stale air and oppressive darkness. Though the last point was admittedly mitigated by [Mage Light] and the little light that got through the shutters.

"Well, ain't this lovely. He's got a table by the fireplace," Yon remarked with a hushed voice, seemingly not wanting to disturb the grim silence that clung to this place like barnacles to the keel of a ship.

The room appeared to be a hybrid between a dining room and a kitchen with a countertop serving as a divider. ...Though it may even have been considered cosy at some point, it didn't help that the locale was decked out with furniture that hasn't been appealing for three decades.

Cherry Stem nonetheless proceeded forward— some gingerly and some with a bit more pep to their step, though none carelessly. Bard felt the need to hide a wince whenever the wooden planks creaked beneath their weight.

'Still no sign of the man. ...Normally servants and the lord they serve don't share a dining table— though Ceyx might have had to make an exception here. Was this isolation actually a choice?'

With his mouth pulled into a taut line, Bard stepped past a fine dining table to reach a wooden shutter in order to open them up, brows furrowing at the loud squeak elicited by the rusty hinges. But with some actual light flowing into the room, his [Mage Light] seemed a little less rough on the eyes.

Upon noticing how they hadn't been beset by a thousand screaming goblins (or indeed any hostile), the team seemed to heave a collective sigh— allowing themselves to explore their now properly lit environment without being outright wired. Though a few shifty looks were still thrown in the direction of the darkened hallway and its many doors.

"...Nothing here." Cassian thought out loud to nobody in particular. "Don't stray too far, but I doubt there's anything here warranting us clustering together like that. Just... Don't leave the room quite yet." With a few hums of confirmation or outright verbal agreements from Cherry Stem, the adventurers took a closer look at the decor.

With a few cautious steps, the caster moved away from the window and walked along the separating counter of the kitchen— dragging his fingers over the countertop as he went. His scruffy face pulled into a frown as he rubbed his now dusty fingers together, once more trying to calculate how long it has been since this place had last seen any use.

Brown eyes swept over the abandoned cooking station— from the ash and char-encrusted stove to the various colourful glass containers that adorned the shelves. An admittedly nice touch that added a richer character to an otherwise dull corner of the house, even if the fading colours dampened its effect a little.

'...Basil, anise... Water chestnut?' The mage read the labelled jars as he slowly waltzed past the shelves on which they were placed. 'Not quite standard fare. Either foraged or bought— though the former seems unlikely, with how anise only seems to grow further south.'

With but a moment's hesitation and Momon stepping closer with a hand on one of his swords, Bard opened the pantry door.

Unsurprisingly, it was mostly empty— save for greenish black loafs of bread and a few bowls containing mouldy mounds that may have once passed for berries.

"Nothing of note?" The dark warrior questioned while looking over the mage's shoulder.

"...Nothing."

If Cassian was not mistaken he was looking at what used to be blackberries. Logical, considering how they are quite plentiful in these types of forests. The ghost of a smile flitted across the man's dry lips at the idea.

'Perhaps Karatus really is affecting me.' His mirthful musings didn't last long, however, as one of his companions once again spoke up from across the room.

"I'd wager this is the shield," Yon remarked with a bit of relief colouring his tone as he pointed at a pavise shield hanging above the fireplace. As if finally granted some levity, the mood lifted as Milla and Karatus crowded around the mantel.

The redhead chuckled. "What's the matter? Can't reach it on your own?" Though the dwarf huffed as if offended it was clear that relief was his primary emotion in this moment, with pretty much the entire adventuring team seeming quite chuffed at the idea of getting this job done and hauling ass back home.

...Though it went without saying that the fresh pair of copper-plates were unfazed by this development. A fact that seemed both well within Bard's expectations and far beyond them.

'Karatus may very well have struck gold when running into those two. Assuming their confidence can be backed up.'

The aforementioned ranger clicked his tongue before speaking up. "Are we going to gloss right over the fact that that shield is bearing a crest of what might be a noble house?" Bard did not emote beyond averting his eyes. So it seemed someone had been paying attention after all— though the newcomers could admittedly be forgiven for not immediately realising.

"Shoot." Milla grumbled. "That—!" She turned towards the robed caster with a slight sneer. "Oi, Bard, what's 'Wildsoar' in Variant Draconian?"

Cassian returned a lazy shrug of his shoulders and the redhead gave up the pursuit with nothing more than a slight growl, realising that answers would not be so easily squeezed out of him. "Okay. Shit. Clearly a noble family's name in common tongue then, ain't it?"

"Seems that way." Yon grunted in response as Karatus seemed to mumble expletives under his breath, realising how the situation had grown more touchy. "—Too late now, just pry the shield off the wall."

"Why is it that a supposed noble is living in the middle of nowhere?" The dark warrior chimed in inquisitively, taking a step towards the fireplace where the rest now gathered.

"Yeah, why is it that a weirdo noble lives in a shit-shack leagues away from civilization? ...If only there were a magic caster that held the answers." Milla fired back with a hint of venom in her tone, the caster and melee combatant now staring each other down before another cut in.

"Forget it!" Karatus hissed, now moving between Milla and Bard to rip the Pavise shield right off the mantel. "—This thing is bolted to the wall, let's just hurry it up. The sooner we are done the sooner we can leave." The ranger turned towards his armour-clad companion with a pleading expression. "...Lend me a hand, will you?"

"Hang on." Momon replied. "I want to see the rest of the house first."

The archer paused, face flitting through a few different emotions before settling on mild puzzlement. "What? Why? Our mission objective is right here, ain't it?"

"Our mission was to locate a missing family member. And though scouring through each and every acre of forest may be a lost cause, we can at the very least inspect the premises."

Karatus gave pause again, seemingly taking Momon's reasoning into consideration. "...Fair, I suppose. But—"

Bard raised a hand in front of the ranger's face, drawing his attention. Though Karatus seemed to open his mouth to retort, the mage simply made a gesture, pointing towards his own nose. Following his captain's lead, the ranger inhaled deeply through his nose only for his face to pull into a slight grimace. The tanned adventurer took on a more contemplative look, though the shiftiness in his eyes revealed his discomfort. "That... That isn't the pantry?"

"Pantry's mostly empty— the stench doesn't come from there." Cassian spoke quietly, sidling past his ranger companion to move closer to Momon.

Karatus' mouth pulled into a thin line. "Milla. Chair." The redhead gave a small affirmation and moved to fetch the piece of furniture, neither of them bickering or bantering anymore. "Milla and I will try to loosen the deadbolt—"

The redhead cut right back in. "Loosen? You mean rip off, right?"

"Yeah, sure." The ranger agreed before turning back towards the rest of the team. "You, uh, clear out the rest of the house for now." The dark warrior gave a nod, now moving down the darkened hallway with daughter in tow, Bard and Yon following closely behind.

Part of Cassian felt a bit of apprehension at the notion of two copper-ranked newbies leading the way as opposed to the significantly more experienced Yon, though ultimately didn't voice his discontentment. ...The mage had to begrudgingly admit that the veritable wall of armour that was Momon was better suited for taking the lead.

Though, Bard came to quickly regret remaining quiet, as the lack of arguing allowed the oppressive silence of this place to seep right back in.


All in all, every little detail came together to lend this location a rather nerve-wracking air. And Bard was hard-pressed to ignore the cold sweat forming beneath his robe and unable to shake the feeling of there being something breathing between the walls.

As if to feed his growing paranoia, the mage stopped moving and hesitated before pressing his ear up against the wall. Nothing happened, and no sound could be heard beyond the rhythmic thumping of his heart— though in hindsight he couldn't help but feel as though that was a stupid move.

In part because of how silly he looked, and in part because of how dangerous that could have been, had his manic assumptions been the slightest bit correct. Cassian shuddered at the idea of some bizarre monster hiding in the insulation taking advantage of the situation by reaching out and crushing the head of the idiot mage who dared attempt such a stunt.

"—Bard, what's the matter?" Momon suddenly decided to question, nearly making him flinch.

"Silly." Shizuka commented, much to Yon's wicked amusement.

But truthfully the mage was quite thankful of the levity his new companions were able to grant.

"Apologies," the caster sighed. "I just felt as though something was off." He gave a hesitant gesture towards the closest wall, not wanting to appear too frazzled before the team he was supposed to be leading. ...Though the dark warrior may have been a leader in his own right, as opposed to a follower.

Momon hummed. "Likewise. Though this discomforting feeling does not seem to be indicative of any hostiles." Upon hearing this, Cassian licked his dry lips.

'Tainted ground, perhaps? Undead as we had originally presumed. An innate sixth sense would pick up on that.'

The caster just took a deep breath. "...Let's hurry this up. The sooner this task is completed, the sooner we are able to leave." The newbie adventurer returned an almost arrogantly nonchalant shrug and continued onwards.

With little warning Momon would simply open the closest door and step in, carefully sweeping each room. Cassian could not tell if that was a supreme showing of confidence or recklessness, though he'd wager that it stemmed from a bit of both. Despite the brashness of it, he could not claim that such self certainty was unwarranted— not when the man's mere focus was sharp enough to cut.

That being said, it felt as though there was a growing undercurrent of impatience colouring the warrior's every movement, leaving Bard wondering if he should point it out or correct it. Though he never got around to doing anything. Not with the pace at which Momon trudged from room to room.

They'd step into darkened spaces, covered in dust and illuminated only by [Mage Light] before the shutters were opened to let some natural light pass through, allowing little motes of dust to dance in the streams of bright white. Among these spaces those who stood out the most was a larger sleeping quarters— filled with several beds, likely for the employees that once worked in the mill.

"Some of these appear to have been in use." Momon stated nonchalantly, moving further into the room far quieter than what his heavy armour should have been capable of. His metal gloves made a barely audible click as he gestured towards a bed near the corner of the room.

"—Three of them have sheets and covers, unlike the others with their uncovered... Straw mattresses," the copper adventurer declared, his last observation sounding a bit more uncertain. "And as Karatus had noted, as this supposedly is the residence of a noble, then it is not unfeasible to assume that the scant few servants they brought with them slept here."

"It would appear so." Bard agreed with a click of his tongue.

Though Momon may have only stated the obvious, it was still commendable enough to ensure everyone was on the same page. In more grave situations, communication was key. ...And what this observation had brought across was that their missing persons count had risen by about three. Which definitely wasn't mentioned in the request.

With but a couple of worried monosyllabic complaints from Yon, the group moved on— going back to stalking the rickety halls at a steady pace. Beyond the group initially bracing themselves in the event of being attacked, nothing happened as the dark warrior stepped into the next room to sweep it like the rest.

Cassian blinked as he got a better look at this newest room.

...Something he almost immediately recognized as a makeshift study.

It was a claustrophobic and dingy little locale, clearly put together rather haphazardly, with furniture being thrown whatever which way to transform an unused space into a functional workplace. Bard walked forward, allowing his fingers to trace the backs of the various books that adorned a well aged bookshelf— skimming through the various titles.

He swallowed thickly before breaking the weighty silence of the room. "...If anywhere would be a good place to start an investigative endeavour, it'd be here."

"I see. Receipts, documentation, papers... Anything of particular note, then?" The copper-ranked warrior wondered out loud, moving to pluck a thick tome on magic theory from its perch on the shelf— Shizuka standing idly by his side, curiously peering at the book her father-figure had picked.

"Aye." Yon grumbled, answering the question in Bard's stead, looking closer at whatever filled out the lower shelves that he could reach. "—Couldn't the bastard just 'ave just written a journal or something?" He complained under his breath.

As the other three scoured the room (or in Momon's case, scoured the tomes focused on magic theory), so too did Cassian begin his search in this wellspring of information.

What caught his eyes, however, wasn't any one of the books, but rather the stray few parchments atop the small desk in the middle of the room. While Momon seemed a bit more interested in the various pieces of literature that decorated the shelves, Cassian moved forward to take a closer look at whatever documentation was strewn about. Most of it was, unsurprisingly enough, inconsequential fluff such as old receipts and unrelated documents. That being said—

'A case study? "The Use of Summoned Undead in Agriculture"?'

That particular sheet was not a copy of any officially published piece as far as Bard could tell. But rather what appeared to be a personal project of Ceyx, despite the handwritten article not having any discernable signature. The title in tandem with what they had seen thus far left the mage with a foreboding feeling as he picked up the (curiously yellowed) parchments to read the rest.

Frankly, disregarding the rather disturbing subject matter this particular article was not anything out of the ordinary. The caster's face nonetheless took on a slightly tense mien. ...From his academy days he has had to read plenty of studies and write a few simple ones as well. Among the more controversial studies he had seen, around half of them were related to necromancy and goetia— namely the summoning of demons.

Granted, undead servants would be excellent labourers courtesy of their limitless physical endurance, though the ethical and theological aspects remained as points of contention preventing further study in the more staunchly religious nations— The Draconic Kingdom included. As such, only Baharuth conducted such research to his knowledge.

...And as any good report, this half-completed piece detailed how certain experiments were conducted, including the isolation required to go through with such testing. The parchment even went as far as to cite a few noble causes for actually going through with this study.

'...Huh. With his family saddled with a dying limb of the Draconic Kingdom he endeavoured himself to find a cost-effective solution to a lack of manual labourers and a dwindling food supply.

Quite ambitious, though I suppose he didn't have many options— with necromancy being frowned upon*. Not wholly illogical to assume he decided to isolate himself for this exact reason.

Something like that... It could turn his situation around, as the lands surrounding Rhakyuu-Iéll would no longer be a hopeless piece of territory with the added rate of growth.'

But as he kept reading, Cassian's countenance grew increasingly grievous. It came as no surprise how Ceyx's research delved into greater details about how one would go about implementing such a system, as well as the potential snags and pitfalls to avoid. Most conspicuous of which concerned potential diseases that could be spread by walking corpses, from something as mundane as ergot to the more exotic rot-lung.

The mage found his eyes wandering towards where the bard lay— as if he was able to see through the walls and stare at the deprecated barn filled with rotting straw and wheat. With that, he had to wonder just how accurate the 'safe' declaration was.

There were, however, more concerning topics in the study.

"—In lieu of recent discoveries, the psychological significance of spending an extended period of time in the presence of undead should be properly documented. Aside from the general opinion surrounding necromantic creatures, it is worth considering the supernatural implications and their impact on the human mind." A passage read, introducing the reader to the subsection.

'Generally, undead aren't prevalent enough that we'd notice these things.' Bard mused. '...But if I recall correctly, this isn't really a severe problem, is it...?'

It started off innocently enough.

Simple "unease" when looking at the more grotesque sub-categories of undead, for instance.

The written study was succinct, while also delving into detail on each and every psychological facet. But it wasn't meant to last.

The mage could feel his mouth dry out a little as he noticed a distinct shift in the writing style, from the more well-learned academic method that maintained a more objective and impersonal approach, to a significantly more subjective one— almost as if it had gone from case study to a shopping list.

Insomnia.

Paranoia.

Amnesia.

Increased agitation.

'...These aren't typically symptoms associated with summoned undead.' Cassian mentally noted with growing discomfort at the bottom of his gut.

Eventually, it was as if the original purpose of the study was lost, with a wide array of symptoms— psychological and physical— were scrawled across faded paper like chicken scratches with not a jot of elaboration or detail, like a madman in need of written notes to aid with the holes in their patchwork memory.

Dry skin.

Excessive bleeding.

Vomiting.

Amnesia.

Autophagy.

Barely discernable through the deterioration of what had once been clean handwriting. Any remotely sane person would have called it quits long ago, yet Cassian had a sneaking suspicion that the person writing wasn't in their right mind anymore.

Bard wasn't really sure how he expected the paper to end.

A grand declaration, perhaps? Lyrical prose waxing poetic about the tragedy that had befallen this place— going into painstaking detail about the final fate of Ceyx and whatever entourage of servants that had deigned to follow him?

It was nothing like that.

Instead, he had been left with that simple word.

Autophagy.

Self-cannibalism.

It was no wonder Cassian felt discomfort grow into barely subdued dread.

...And the mage wasn't entirely sure what to feel about the fact that none of these were symptoms associated with proximity to undeath.

"All the more reason to hurry up, I suppose."

The caster flinched back hard, reeling and nearly swinging at Momon's head with his staff— the idea of casting a spell not even crossing his mind. Nevertheless, Bard came to a stop, blinking owlishly at the dark warrior that had silently loomed behind and read the report alongside him.

Were they in a less severe situation he would have marvelled at the way a heavily armoured man the size of Momon had managed to silently cross the room without being heard.

"Good lord, Momon! —Don't just-!" He hissed before stopping, not wanting to start freaking out now of all times, especially when the person he was about to scold seemed not the slightest bit guilty or sheepish. The mage paused and took a breath, continuing on with a tone far more even, but still agitated. "...So you read it too, then."

"Indeed." The dark warrior agreed, and despite the heavy visor of ebony steel covering the man's face, Cassian was unable to shake the impression that he was frowning. "Perhaps I shouldn't be all too surprised." The mage was about to question what he meant about that, only for the melee combatant to throw a thick book onto the messy desk— eliciting a loud 'thunk'.

"Undead Summoning & You - 'How to conjure your own necrotic monstrosity!'" A title proudly proclaimed. At that moment the caster was torn between laughing and crying— somewhat unsurprised by how the book carried a Baharuth Imperial Academy seal of approval.

Momon deigned to speak again, voice carrying some indecipherable emotion that was covered up by the otherwise neutral tone. "...Bring the case study. The family might want it— and if Ceyx is alive to miss it, he can fetch it himself."

Bard just returned a little nod, storing the documents in his knapsack with jilted and high-strung motions.

"...It's best we leave," he decided. Though the mage hadn't quite managed to fully piece together what had happened, it would have to do. "There's probably nothing worth finding here anymore."

'Could be a curse. ...But whatever it is, something capable of such affects, we may not be qualified for this.'

Surprisingly enough, Yon looked a bit miffed about the idea, but that might be expected for someone who hadn't read the last bit of the case study. Ultimately, however, the one to protest was Momon.

"Not yet. There are but two rooms left."

"Aye. Just a little more to go, and nothin' much in terms of trouble." Yon added.

Bard swallowed thickly— considering the competency of the team— before conceding to the idea. "Fine. Last two rooms. Leave no stone unturned." Momon wordlessly agreed with a nod, stepping out of the study.

As such, the adventurers moved on again. Down creaky hallways and past paintings that wouldn't be so out of place in a nicer home.

"Doesn't look slept in." Yon commented as Momon took the lead and broached the door to the main bedroom, once again not finding anything beyond a homely albeit unclean living space that hadn't seen its owner for some time. The dwarven warrior was, of course, referring to the mess of pillows and covers that adorned the bed. The finer fabric and mattress made of something other than straw once again hinted at greater wealth, though it was now coated in dust like every other piece of furniture.

'Still nothing. Which leaves only one place.'

Things got quiet again as the dark warrior moved over creaky planks towards one final door in the house, one situated just past the rather mundane broom closet. It was a faded and old thing, not unlike the others they've stumbled across thus far, though its most conspicuous trait by far was discovered when Momon firmly gripped the handle and froze.

"What is it? Anything the matter?" Cassian cut in with noticeable concern upon seeing how the newbie adventurer stopped moving and how the little girl's normally impassive face contorted into a frown. A stifled sigh could be heard beneath the man's helmet as he opened the door before practically peeling his gauntleted hand off the rusted doorknob to wipe it on the wall.

"...Cripes, what is that...?" Yon questioned, voicing the mage's own internal questions.

"If I had to make an educated guess—" The dark warrior pushed the wooden door, carefully avoiding the sticky doorknob. "...I'd say we have located the source of our smell." Bard stepped closer, raising his [Mage Light]-adorned staff and peering over Momon's shoulder to see what was beyond.

His forehead immediately creased. The sight that met his eyes was nothing more than a narrow staircase leading down, the light of his spell not travelling far enough to illuminate the landing below.

"A cellar." Shizuka stated plainly, her abnormal calmness undercutting the severity of the situation. Bard also decided to poignantly ignore Momon's muttered "typical".

"Ready?" The dark warrior rumbled, prepared to storm the cellar if need be.

Unfortunately, in Cassian's eyes, the line had already been crossed— with the case study cementing this in his mind as something they aren't qualified to deal with.

"Down there?" Three heads turned towards the mage upon hearing his shocked uttering.

'...What are you thinking...? Going there is a terrible idea no matter which way you look at it!'

"...This mission is not worth risking our head and hides for." Cassian added with his voice growing louder with each venom-laden word. It was still a little surprising how a surly Shizuka decided to get between the two, looking ready to say something, being stopped only by Momon resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Like we have thus far, then?" He said, sounding utterly unperturbed by recent developments. "This is part of the job, is it not?"

"Momon has a point." Yon returned quietly. "...We'll get paid for this— so the smallest amount of work to be done is to search the entire house, cellar and all, ain't it?"

The dark warrior shifted impatiently, causing a barely audible click to be caused by his armour. "...The perpetrator— if there indeed does exist one— is likely in the woods at this point. Not here."

"Mhm."

"I..." Cassian looked between those present, and he certainly wasn't so lacking in awareness to not notice when he had been outvoted. It was very likely that Milla wouldn't be backing down, and though Karatus may take his side, there's a chance that he'd damn well do the job proper after the door got reduced to woodchips.

'It... It doesn't have to be an existential threat. Neither Karatus nor Shizuka seems to have found anything dangerous.

Just one room. Worst case scenario...? A corpse had been stuffed down there and been left to rot. A disturbing sight, sure. ...But not dangerous.'

"...Very well." The caster finally conceded. "Let's just hurry it up and get it over with."

Momon simply began descending the stairs, seemingly unconcerned as to whether or not the well-aged wood that made up each step could hold his weight. Torn between sticking back and going after, the caster found that one foot had already followed the rookie.

With but a single strangled curse, he followed the dark warrior down as if being strung along.

"Just... Don't get jumped, aye?" Yon added, hurrying down the narrow staircase after Shizuka too began her descent.

Cassian's dry mouth seemed at odds with the abnormally humid air as he slowly descended each creaky step. Wooden walls gave way to roughly cut stone bricks, with the scent of mould and sweetened rot seemingly growing more pungent— enough so for the mage to involuntarily wrinkle his nose by the time he was halfway down. This was most certainly the "right" spot, but he just couldn't find it within himself to feel happy about it.

Finally, his carried [Mage Light] managed to illuminate the landing at the very bottom. A claustrophobic space with a floor of cold stone brick, surrounded on all sides by rundown walls— all culminating with what Bard hoped was one last door.

The armour-clad adventurer came to a stop, allowing the remainder of the party to pool behind him.

It went without saying that the cellar was quieter than the house above it. Whereas any old building had a tendency to make sounds as if settling, all of that disappeared just a few steps down into the earth. As if the rest of the world— the rest of the derelict structure— no longer existed.

That pervasive stillness brought Bard no comfort.

As though being able to sense his restlessness, Momon rested a hand on the hilt of one of his swords, as if gesturing to his companions that they should ready up. ...Or that they could be at ease because he alone was enough.

"...There are still no hostiles there." Shizuka cut in blandly, almost making the mage flinch at the abrupt shattering of the tense atmosphere.

"I am aware. ...Though that's not the problem." The warrior stated with a voice a bit too calm, gesturing towards the floor. The mage could feel a thrill run down his spine as he failed to stop himself from looking down.

The floor was (unsurprisingly) made of roughly laid stone bricks. Worn down after many years, and now just as dusty as everything else. Closer inspections, however, revealed mottled flecks of reddish brown splattered across the uneven surface, adorning the floor. Bard's mouth pulled into a thin line.

'...If this was a murder, then the situation will have gotten far more complicated.'

The dark warrior gave something vaguely resembling a nod, eliciting a metallic click from his heavy armour. With one last inquisitive glance thrown over the shoulder, Momon prepared to enter the room— this time far more prepared for potential trouble in spite of his daughter's words. With a bit of force and a slight wooden crick, the door swung open. It took but a second or two before—

—Cassian pulled his head back as though his face had been doused in ice-cold water.

With an almost desperate strength the mage tried to bite back a retch to no avail.

His eyes teared up and burned, though this was nothing compared to the unceasing assault on his sense of smell.

Though there had been something foul in the air before, now it was downright putrid.

'Curdled'.

The best word for it.

As if the air had curdled.

Roiling.

Shifting.

A horrendous diseased sediment stirred airborne, choking them out.

...Humidity now a tight noose around their necks rather than a mere annoyance.

Another barely stifled gag could be felt along with the telltale sourness of bile scratching the back of his throat, though it was quite tame relative to the cloying air that seemingly clung to the skin like an unpleasantly cold sheet of oily membrane.

An experience best likened to going dumpster diving behind a butcher's shop after a particularly stuffy summer week.

'—No...! Far worse than that, is this... Smell magically originated...?!'

Bard felt the need to blink tears out of his eyes as his free hand pulled his robes over the lower half of his face.

It had been a mix of experience and willpower that kept the man from doubling over, and through his bleary vision he could determine that the others were reacting to this as well.

"...Of all blasted heat-stones...!" Yon swore under his breath before having to turn away and greedily suck in a lungful of untainted air.

The normally stoic Momon gave a low, rumbling sigh, seeming more perturbed than usual. Which was practically the same as him shrilly screaming at the top of his lungs when taking into account his previously impervious facade.

Only Shizuka appeared unfazed beyond a slightly annoyed expression.

Such a young lady reacting so calmly would normally be a cause for concern in Bard's eyes. ...But in this moment he was a bit too worked up and panicked to focus on something so seemingly insignificant.

Cassian's period of internal strife and horror was undercut by the dark warrior finally speaking again. "You may want to take a look at this," he stated with a voice slightly more strained than normal— though no less calm. The caster's teeth grit, and he had to force a wince at the idea of actually stepping into the room, as the none of the possibilities of what he'd be seeing were particularly nice.

'A corpse. It has to be— T-this...!'

With a deep breath through his mouth the mage stepped forward, joining Momon in the cellar room before raising his staff high in order to fully illuminate the new space.

The little globule of [Mage Light] at the top of his staff flared, chasing off the suffocating shadows and allowing a clear view of the basement.

Cassian really wished he just hadn't bothered with it.


Being an adventurer is a tough line of work. Though perhaps not so much so as being a soldier on the front lines, it didn't change the fact that one would experience some amount of danger and get to see some gruesome sights.

That had been the case for the gold-ranked Bard, who— under some uncommon circumstances— would have to deal with finding the remnants of people who have tried (and failed) to vanquish whatever monster Cherry Stem had set out to destroy.

Over the years, he had seen a lot of things.

Some sights were more tame. ...Such as finding a hunter that had ended up trampled by a boar. The purple-blue patches of skin, the bloodied face and the gaping hole in the gut courtesy of a stray tusk made up a rather unpleasant sight, but that was far from impossible to cope with.

Other sights were not as easy to bear. Nightmares did not plague his sleep, but when his mind's eye conjured up an image for the "worst possible outcome" for a job— it was difficult to think of anything other than the remains of an unfortunate newbie that had come face to face with an ogre. ...Something that Cassian still found himself thinking about.

Sure enough, worse fates existed but were far removed from his mind, as the mage had never borne witness to any such ends.

That had now changed.

And the mutilated corpse that had the misfortune of meeting the ogre was no longer the most horrid thing his memory could conjure.

Bard wasn't sure how long he just stood there.

Taking it in.

He just knew that it wasn't long enough.

No length of time would be long enough.

...To say that the sight matched the smell may have understated the unholy artistry put on display.

"Bard." Momon spoke— the refined timbre of his voice grounding the mage in reality.

Under any other circumstance Cassian might have been ashamed that a rookie had to take the reigns. But as it currently stood...

"A-ah—" For a moment his voice failed him, cracking before he could finish his exclamation. The perturbed caster— uncaring of the smell— swallowed thickly, recovering some of his poise. "What the fuck."

Sickening as it was to admit, the sculpture— the macabre art piece— may have been quite beautiful if one squinted.

Each flayed limb pointing in cardinal directions with careful consideration of symmetry and balance.

Each carefully posed torso— untouched enough for the clean flesh to punctuate the red red red with the colour of pallid skin.

Each meticulously organised intestine that was snaking across floor, walls and ceiling alike.

Each fanatically sculpted face— both those severed from their bodies and those constructed from the slurry that may once have resembled a person.

Each gnawed bone, where teeth marks revealed the effort that had been put into chewing so that shocks of ivory could flourish.

Each feverishly painted streak of darkened red-brown that covered the brickwork with macabre patterns, symbols and vaguely religious imagery.

Each pointed rib that made up a ruptured ribcage, pointing outwards— akin to the seeds of a matured dandelion.

Each splotch of black mould and perseverant rot, granting the overwhelmingly red sculpture hints of abhorrent yellows and grayish greens.

All forming a thing of horror.

A thing of indescribable dread.

A thing of truly wretched beauty.

It was a spider lily.

A poppy.

A rose.

A bundle of crimson yarrow.

A beautiful, dainty little flower of brilliant scarlet in full putrid bloom.

For some time, not one of the group said anything.

Because what the hell was there to be said?

In some ways, the fact that nobody had lost their lunch was a feat in and of itself.

And frankly, Cassian was very thankful of Yon's myriad of colourful expletives breaking through the endless white noise of rushing of blood in his ears.

"...This— I'd wager— is an altar." Momon spoke languidly. Though the pace of his oration was slow and thoughtful to an extent, the warrior seemed not the slightest bit moved by the horrid 'sculpture' in front of them.

For but a brief moment rage flared in Cassian's chest, born of a mix of helplessness, horror and frustration— the last point aimed at the casual nature of the dark warrior. Fists clenched, but ultimately the anger fizzled out— returning to horrified disgust aimed at the macabre art piece that took up the majority of the room.

Part of him wanted to cuss out Momon. A reaction the mage now recognized as callous, pointless and wholly unjustified.

The copper-ranked adventurer (as hard as it was to consider him or Shizuka as such anymore) did not have a hand in this. ...If anything, Bard began wondering just how much the father-daughter pair had seen to be so utterly unmoved by... That.

'Dear lords above.' He thought, now incapable of anything other than such a mundane exclamation due to the sheer emotional exhaustion.

"Oh, is it?!" Yon snarked with a bitingly sarcastic tone. But in this instance there was no hiding the fear and unbridled disgust that the dwarf definitely was feeling. ...The way the knuckles on his hands whitened as he gripped his axes tighter was testament enough to this. "What... What do we need to kill...? T-to set this right, I mean."

The dishevelled spellcaster wasn't sure what to make of that question— with the dwarven warrior seemingly torn between wanting to maim the perpetrator while simultaneously wanting to gauge whether or not they'd succeed.

"Demon, probably." The two original members of Cherry Stem swivelled towards the speaker, Shizuka, who seemed ready to make some observations. Any shame or bruised pride the mage felt from being shown up by such a young lady was quelled by the sheer calculating expertise displayed by the two newcomers.

"...Maybe a devil, with the dark-magic altar." The little girl's face scrunched up a little in thought— an action that would have been cute in any other circumstance. "—Looks eaten... But not a demon of gluttony. Mmm... It's rotting."

"—Likely attracted by necromantic energy or undeath, if Ceyx's conducted studies were anything to go by." Momon drawled, stepping closerto the godforsaken centrepiece of the cellar, effortlessly avoiding the criss-crossing entrails on the floor. "...This place was undoubtedly used as another storage shed for tools and the like. With this being a lumber mill, there should be tools available. And yet..."

Yon and Bard both stared at the ballsy warrior as if he was cracked when he decided to jam a gauntleted fist into the fleshy pile of abstract art— the gore being pushed aside by the intruding hand.

"...Chewed. Instead of using a hacksaw or indeed any tool, the corpses have been chewed." A short pause. "—Bard, do these marks look human to you...? I'd say so, judging by the size and general shape."

Of course, the caster reacted the moment he snapped out of his stupor.

"—Wh-! What are you doing?!" He all but shrieked, only holding back due to the paranoid fear of whatever had caused this being able to find them. "...We don't know what that thing can do!"

"It's an empowering altar." Momon answered with a near absolute certainty, causing all of Cassian's protests to die on his tongue. "...Touching it will do nothing."

For yet another moment, the quiet reigned supreme.

"...I have no doubt that the being responsible for this is fully capable of constructing such an altar on their own. Yet this particular altar seems to be made by a human, if the teeth-marks are anything to go by. Constructed manually as well?"

The dark warrior gave pause, before continuing on with an almost playful lilt that sent shivers down Cassian's spine. "—Curious. Why would it do that...? Cruelty? Toying with its victim? Did it merely not fit in the basement?"

Just as Yon looked ready to tell Momon off, the madman yanked his fist out of the sculpture, freeing what looked to be—

'Shit.'

An iron adventurer plate dangling from a small chain.

Before anyone could speak, Momon let it go. The metallic sound it made as it clattered to the floor was in truth very quiet, though it may as well have been ear-piercingly loud in this suffocating atmosphere.

When Bard finally was able to tear his eyes off the viscera-covered plate, he was met with the sight of Momon elegantly wiping off his armoured hand with a handkerchief produced from god knows where.

"So this... Altar has been growing. Likely fuelled by fresh bodies. Is it composed of the missing iron-ranked team and the servants, you reckon?" Upon receiving no reply from the gobsmacked mage, the dark warrior clicked his tongue and returned to his tirade, this time under his breath and barely audible.

"Though, by all means, this ability should not have any level of permanence... What changed? —The use of actual corpses, perhaps."

(A small part in the back of Cassian's mind recognized how he was bearing witness to another aspect of Momon, as he had done by the lake yesterday. ...Just that this particular facet was significantly more monstrous.

So too did his ever-growing fear and discomfort set that idea aside for later.)

In the short quiet that followed, Shizuka and Momon shared a look**.

"No matter now, I suppose." The copper-ranked adventurer grunted. "...Time to destroy it."

...

"What?" Cassian croaked, taking half a second to work up the nerve and step closer to Momon and the altar— eyes burning from the smell. "You will do no such thing!" He declared, more forceful than he has been for a long time. "...Doing so might alert whatever devil, undead or, o-or heathen to our presence here! I don't care if it's Zuranon or one of the Demon Gods of old!"

"...R-right he is." The dwarf chimed in, lifting the burden on the casters shoulders slightly, with Bard knowing that he wasn't alone in his viewpoint this time. "Tis' already too much. Horrid magic such as this...? Best fetch an orichalcum-ranked team to handle it."

"The situation is a bit too delicate to allow us to simply retreat and hand off the responsibility to another adventuring team."

"Huh?"

"...Do you want to deal with the perpetrator, Bard?" Momon questioned.

"O-of course I do! And I'm sure Yon would as well!" Cassian found himself saying— with his dwarven companion offering a nod in turn.

"There's a fine line between overconfidence and courage, Momon. Especially on your first mission." Bard bit back— eyes still darting towards the darkened stairwell back up. "Sometimes it is wise to leave pride well enough alone. And I... Admit that picking this job was a mistake. ...Believing our team capable of handling something an iron-ranked team could not wasn't hubris, but with... All of this?! No. It's too much. Best we can do is get back and file a proper report."

The mage's eyes swept over those present.

"We have done enough. Time to leave. Karatus and Milla has had ten minutes to loosen the shield, and if they haven't managed it without force yet, they never will."

The two quarrelling adventurers stood there in relative quiet, neither looking ready to cede to the other person's way of thinking.

"My question was rhetorical." The copper-ranked melee combatant suddenly declared. The other stood staring, suddenly wondering what angle he was getting at. "Shizuka?"

"Mm." The little one hummed. "—I have been using an ability to scry." Her hand ghosted over her eyepatch for a moment. "Just recently, I noticed something." The caster stopped in his tracks, now staring at the rose-haired little girl, who now was in the middle of loading her wrist-mounted crossbow.

"...There is something outside."

In that instance, the blood in Cassian's veins froze to ice. Likewise Yon's eyes were focused in the far distance, appearing almost catatonic.

Some part of the mage wanted to refute the little ranger's words— maybe accuse the little girl of lying on Momon's behalf. But...

Ping.

...The [Tripwire] mentally alerting him may have confirmed her words as the truth.

"Shit." Bard choked out, unable to fight back the mounting panic— the burning stench and looming sculpture not helping in the slightest.

"Bard?" Yon questioned, voice strained from the diseased air down here. "What's the matter?" A rising desperation was clearly felt in the stout dwarf's voice.

"[Tripwire]." He grunted in reply, his voice strained. "The furthest one just went off." The sudden onset of fear was plainly evident, with how Yon's wide eyes flitted between the staircase and the altar.

"We were likely tagged the moment we set foot in the meadow." Momon added, the clarity and calm in his voice was infectious to an extent. Though the main reason the mage's horror subsided was due to him wanting to furiously grab the dark warrior by the shoulders and shake shake shake him until he spilled the secrets to his near supernatural relaxation.

Before any such plan could be enacted, however, Momon drew his two overlarge obsidian great-swords. "This altar will empower and... Buff our enemy." The armoured man declared, his casually authoritative voice gaining an edge of adamantine strength. "I'll be destroying it now."

"...Do as you please." Bard managed as he licked his dry lips— something that proved a mistake with the air tasting a bit like how it smelt.

He didn't have time to consider that fact.

Whoosh.

Not as Momon brought down a massive blade in a lightning-quick overhead swing, cleaving the horrid sculpture in twain with but a single immaculate arc of flashing steel. It was a thing of beauty, and the spellcaster just couldn't help admire it for but a moment before—

The warrior launched into several additional horizontal slashes and brutal cleaves, each moving into the other with perfect fluidity.

A sculpture of flesh and bone,

tooth and nail,

cloth and jewellery.

Cut into indiscernible red slush with minimal effort— not even managing to stain the man's armour.

Momon took a step back as if to admire his handiwork.

"Burn it." He ordered.

"Eh—?" Bard stammered, still rendered speechless by the display of speed and strength— not unlike Yon who stood by the side practically gaping at how enrapturing the dark warrior could be with such cumbersome weapons.

"You most likely know some manner of fire spell." He rationalised. "Burn it."

"R-right...!" Cassian stammered, no longer considering the idea of taking charge. "[Flame]."

A simple 1st-Tier fire spell did well enough, causing the shapeless mound to catch fire.

Somehow, it felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, seeing the indescribable and ungodly thing being reduced to smouldering ash. The relaxed sigh given off by Yon seemed to indicate that the dwarf felt much the same way.

"Let's hurry it up and leave before the smoke becomes too much." The caster spoke, voice cracking from how dry his throat had become. Momon simply returned a nod before scaling the stairs with a speed previously unseen, Shizuka managing to keep pace with no visible difficulty.

With his heart racing and adrenaline now flowing through his veins, Bard moved his sluggish legs to keep pace with the pair.


"Oh hey." Karatus' voice was much too calm, aimed at a Momon that just came rushing down the hallway.

The ranger stood on a chair and worked on removing the screws pinning the shield to the mantel. It was finicky business, and the flat arrowhead wasn't the best tool for the job, but the tanned adventurer didn't seem disheartened— unlike Milla who looked to be a mixture between bored and annoyed.

"Did you find the source of the sm—"

Karatus didn't get to finish that thought as the dark warrior reached up and tore the shield clean off the wall, showering the archer in a cloud of dust and a spray of pebble-sized masonry.

The tanned adventurer surprised yowl turned into sputtering as Milla laughed joyously at his misfortune.

"What?! Agai—"

"Enough!" The one to interrupt this time was Bard, who just managed to catch up to Momon— Yon following closely behind, swearing as his short legs struggled to keep up.

The pair that had remained in the common room immediately straightened out at the severity in their team-leaders tone.

"There's an enemy outside. A demon, probably." The one to fill them in was Momon this time. "...There was an altar made of corpses in the basement."

Karatus stiffened slightly at that, as his red-headed companion hoisted her sword high with a frown on her face.

"...Crap." She grumbled, joining Bard in looking out the window. "How the hell did Karatus not catch that...?"

"H-hey! The meadow is dead! ...And if it was far away enough... How would you even find out about this?"

Shizuka raised a hand. "Me." She stated flatly, causing the ranger to confusedly blink at her.

"It don't matter, where's this thing comin' from?" Yon questioned the youngest among them, eyes nervously darting between windows on either side of the room.

"The front."

Ping.

"Yeah." Bard confirmed with a grim tone of voice, as a [Tripwire] went off again. This time from another direction as if the beast had circled around the house like a hungry wolf would their prey. "It's the front." He moved across the room, the entire group crowding around a window to see...

...One single humanoid shape broaching the green wall of trees and entering the meadow the same way they had come from. It was an awfully human-looking creature, considering the distinctly inhumane thing they witnessed in the basement.

Things quieted down until Milla ended up speaking the words on everyone's minds.

"...What's the plan?"

'I don't know. I've never had the misfortune of fighting a demon before.' Of course, as the team leader, he couldn't say those words out loud. Instead he began brainstorming— trying to rationally determine a good strategy.

But there were simply too many unknown factors.

Would this demon excel in ranged combat? Melee combat? If it's a spellcaster, can the spells they conjure go through walls, rendering the cover granted by the cabin useless? He'd have to very quickly determine if this battle was best fought outside or inside.

"...Momon. You recognized the altar in the cellar. Have you fought such a beast before...?" Yon went on to ask, saving Bard the trouble.

"Probably. ...But I cannot tell what type it is." The dark warrior replied, causing the spellcaster's stomach to plummet at the admission. "—The altar is an ability unique to a particular subclass of demon. Unfortunately, this classification is quite broad, and what we're facing could have any method of attack."

Cassian nodded, looking a bit more defeated. "Shizuka, are there any other hostiles beyond the one that's... Stumbling towards us?"

"None within immediate range. Can be further away."

'Stumbling. Maybe the destruction of the altar has weakened it sufficiently.'

...

"Can someone climb out a window and flank them?"

"Nay, not without smashing the window and causing a mighty ruckus. ...Assuming anyone other than I will fit." Yon decided, mumbling the latter sentence under his breath.

"Then we face them head on." The mage decided after careful consideration. "Yon. Milla. Momon. ...Can I trust you three to take the lead?"

"Of course." The dark warrior agreed, moving past his companions towards the (second, non-destroyed) door to the foyer. It took less than five seconds for all those present to crowd behind him— ready to scurry out and take a proper formation around the enemy, Cassian taking the time to quietly explain to Shizuka where she should be relative to everybody else.

"Ready?"

"A-aye." "...As can be, I suppose." "Yup." "Please don't break this one too...!" "Mhm."

The door swung open, and the two fleet-footed warriors rushed forward as their teammates strafed, moving diagonally to surround the new arrival. Even with the skies darkening— portending a rainstorm— the light of day still starkly contrasted the murk inside, nearly blinding Bard before eyes could adjust.

That slowed them down not a bit.

Arrows were nocked.

Bolts loaded.

Axes firmly gripped.

Spells prepared.

Swords hoisted high, ready to cleave.

Tensions ran high, with sweat on every other brow, and an undeniable sensation of concern moving through the minds of those present.

And the humanoid that stood there in the middle of the dead meadow did not react at all.

It looked... Human.

A person that— if cleaned of the layers of dirt— could pass for a young man in his prime, albeit somewhat malnourished and very dishevelled.

Decked out in beige breeches and a pair of scuffed leather boots, the only piece that seemed subpar was the moth-eaten white shirt that clung to the man's chest— soaked in some unknown liquid.

A head of bright blonde hair was differently coloured courtesy of the mud that also matted it to the stranger's anaemically pale forehead.

"...A person?" Bard spoke, and everyone seemed to stop their attack— but didn't drop their guard in the slightest.

"Who cares?" Milla snarled. "HEY FUCKHEAD! WHO ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU HERE?!"

There was no reply. But for the first time, the man reacted. His sunken eyes moved to inspect the aggressive redhead who had raised her voice— but ultimately saying and doing nothing.

"...Milla...!" The mage hissed under his breath. "—Don't antagonize him like that."

And though the female warrior looked ready to either fire back or just outright bash the newcomer's skull in, Karatus spoke up.

"...Bard, he's a dead ringer for Ceyx Wildsoar."

With that, every stare aimed at the newcomer grew far more intense. Some coloured with curiosity, others with a great deal of distrust. ...With Cassian squarely landing in the latter category.

A familiar wrath began brewing in the back of the caster's mind— his steadfast willingness to find out more having driven him this far now pushed him a little further.

"You... Are you Ceyx Wildsoar?"

Bard's question earned a shaky nod from the gaunt man.

"Yeah. I'm sure you are." Milla agreed sarcastically, still brandishing her sword with a sneer apparent on her face. Perhaps they would have conducted a proper background check had the situation allowed for it. But for now, the stranger's admission would have to do.

"—There's still the matter of a godforsaken altar in the basement." Bard bit out with a form of incredulous anger creeping into his voice. "That your doing?"

No reply.

It was as if 'Ceyx' had a manner of dogged determination to be as difficult as possible.

"...He's clearly deranged." Karatus spoke grimly. "And he's also a noble so wh—"

"His status... Doesn't matter in the slightest." The mage interrupted with a agitated snarl— looking ready to just blast the raggedy man to kingdom come with a well placed [Static Burst]. "Noble or not... Just tie him up and haul him back." He swallowed thickly. "...Court will have to deal with him."

Who knew what "deal" even meant at this point. The supposed empowering altar was gone, along with most of the evidence of such heresy.

Nonetheless, the issued command was obeyed, and a length of rope— fetched from the depths of an adventurer's knapsack by Karatus— was tossed to Milla, who received it with gusto.

A few nervous looks were exchanged as the man in the meadow seemed unbothered by this development— still staring unblinkingly at the group. Momon stood stock-still, seemingly staring at Ceyx with enough force to burn a hole through the man. With that level of vigilance, Milla felt somewhat reassured.

"Right." She mumbled under her breath. "You sicko, show me your ha—"

To the warrior's surprise, Ceyx had already listened to the order, obediently presenting his two hands with his wrists pressed together.

As such, Milla stomped forward, not intending to give him much in terms of comfort.

One hand held the length of rope, and the other still clung to the claymore with greater fervour.

She had not an iota of trust in this suspicious newcomer, and she wasn't the slightest bit willing to play nice or abdicate to some code of conduct related to arresting people.

As such, her sword was held aloft, ready to strike the man's temple with the pommel so that he could be tied up in peace.

Milla stepped closer, now within arms reach.

But her plan never came to fruition.

The world spun, and it took an infinitesimal fraction of a second for the warrior lady to realise that she wasn't on her feet anymore.

This was not the act of an enemy.

No.

Instead, with a speed great enough to cause cloth to spontaneously combust from the air pressure, Momon had rushed forward and yanked the redhead aside with enough force to fold her like a shirt.

And so she tumbled back, rolling over and pressing the dead grass of the meadow flat before finally coming to a stop.

This had not been some random act of treason.

Ceyx Wildsoar had ruptured.

A torrent of rank, unidentifiable ooze had sprung from the pile of partially rotted skin that once resembled a man— showering the immediate area in some grisly mixture of offal and writhing mould as the others looked on in undisguised horror.

Had Momon been the slightest bit slower... The slightest bit more indecisive, Milla would have ended up covered.

Bard didn't know what that would do. Though he did know that it was a blessing that they wouldn't have to find out.

"BARD, BURN IT!" Yon outright screamed.

The foul blend of so many terrible things heaved, shifting and struggling as if it were alive.

It— not unlike the altar— was an ungodly thing that had to be destroyed.

"[Flame]!"

The living mould made no sound as the others stared at it being reduced to nothing.

It didn't even struggle.

It made no attempts at a death throe.

...And it's eventual obliteration yielded no relief. No peace.

Just that awful stilted silence as Cherry Stem stared in abject horror at the burnt patch of scorched earth.

Karatus looked ready to lose yesterday's dinner. ...And Milla looked far more shaken up than Cassian could recall having seen her. Those who had borne witness to the altar in the cellar had the chance to adjust to such gruesome sights— making it just the slightest bit easier to bear.

...Though it did little to protect the spellcaster from the shock of nearly losing a comrade to that.

And probably worst of all—

"It's not over, is it?" Cassian croaked, feeling a bone-deep weariness set in. Something that was only offset by the prospect of being made into a new altar bringing in another wave of fight-or-flight adrenaline.

"Not yet." Momon replied.

The emotionally drained caster envied the man then.

How steadfast he was.

How unflappable.

Even in the face of... Whatever the hell this was.

The dark warrior looked around, though Bard could see nothing but woodland and a thoroughly spooked adventuring team. Without another word, the copper-ranked(!) adventurer stepped past the mage— returning to the house.

"...Wha— what are you...?"

Despite his confusion, Cassian found himself being strung along— following in the man's footsteps back into the foyer, leaving the shaken group of adventurers outside in the meadow.

'Oh.' Was all his ragged mind managed.

"Congratulations." Momon spoke with not an ounce of joy or sincerity. "...It seems as though something was hiding in the walls."

In the walls.

Ceiling.

And floor.

The very same greyish-black sludge with dreadful streaks of vermilion pouring out from every single crevice, destroying any semblance of normality the building may have once held.

A twitching, living slurry of rot staining every surface.

Bard gaped for a while, only managing to close his mouth due to the fear of the infestation being able to use the wide-open orifice to invade his body and turn him into another Ceyx.

And just like that, the door in front of them was pushed closed by the dark warrior's heavily armoured hand.

"...Why?" The mage managed to choke out with his cracking voice. "S-shouldn't we be dealing with that...?"

Momon finally deigned to draw his other sword— turning to leave the building after having confirmed his suspicions.

"That won't be necessary."

"Huh?" The spellcaster didn't quite manage to stifle his stupefied uttering, stepping past Momon and out of the house. "Why? I-I mean, there's not a whole lot of risk that someone will stumble on that, but... Still."

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

[Tripwire] triggered again and again.

"Surr..." His voice faltered before he sucked down a breath— the biggest one in gods knows how long. "WE'RE SURROUNDED! READY UP! KARATUS, TO ME!"

This experience had been well and truly eye-opening. 'Humbling' in the smallest sense of the word. In spite of how powerless Bard had felt, and how much of a 'trial by fire' introduction to the darker side of the world this had been, it took more than this to bury the instincts of a gold-ranked team leader that the mage cultivated over the years.

The team scrambled, a brief surge of panic shooting through the group before it faded away into resigned determination. With the slight disarray that came with the initial command out of the way, every member rushed into proper formation.

There were more staggering figures now. Each breaching the thicket and entering into the meadow.

Teeth grit. Sweaty palms clutched weapons tighter. Hearts pounded. Fear brewing in every mind—swept away by urgency and experience.

Momon stepped forward, overlarge blades in each hand. Whereas Shizuka stood ready with loaded crossbow— completely unbothered.

"—'Cut off the head of the snake, and the body shall wither', I believe the saying was." The dark warrior filled in, replying to Bard's earlier question. Cassian had no time to inquire, with Momon simply pointing forward at a slight incline, ignoring the diseased corpses shuffling forward.

Bard's eyes followed the direction Momon pointed.

Past the dead meadow filled with yellowed grass.

Past the sparse greenery that was dotted with rotted stumps.

Past the myriad of shambling vectors of decay— bloated with mould and clad in clothes that may have once given indication as to who they were.

Past where trees finally began reclaiming the land, a few tall birches reached for the sky, unbothered by the grim tidings around them.

Past all that.

So far above the ground, only five Bards standing atop each other's shoulders could hope to reach.

Peering out from behind a tree, the facsimile of a shy child peering around a corner.

Perhaps Bard's vision had failed him, though the spellcaster somehow knew for certain what he saw even at this distance.

He had to remind himself that deer had neither elongated digits nor forward facing eyes.


Chapter End


RE7 moment —also, do I have to set this story to "Mature" now?

*I mean, I guess necromancy sorta has to be taboo in the Overlord world, right? 'Cause aside from Ainz, the only necromancers we see are Zuranon and the weirdo from Six Arms. Well, that and Baharuth conducting these very same experiments. But I'd guess there's some religious connotations with using corpses as labourers which means Slane Theocracy, Roble and now Draconic aren't too happy with experimenting with it.

**Forgot to mention in Chapter 11 - "Mountain Valley Lake", but I've decided to change how [Message] works. Normally the user has to push their index and middle finger against their ear as if using an earpiece. I liked the subtle/stealthy approach of not needing any gestures better.


A/N)

Y'know what, let's discuss some music for a moment. This time at the start of the Author's Note, 'cause none of y'all seemed appreciative enough last time (Except a certain Perverted Sage. Thanks, Chuck.)

The song for this chapter is "Psalm of Withering" by Sons of Perdition, which might be relevant soon enough (wink wink). ...At least it is for the rest of the crew, whereas Momon/Ainz and probably has the DOOM ost blasting in his ears as he goes from room to room.

As for the second recommendation... Well. Maybe it's a bit too obvious or on the nose, but hey. Can't go wrong with a bit of David Bowie, with the song being "Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)". For, uh, obvious reasons.

And finally: "Balrog Boogie" by Diablo Swing Orchestra.


I just realised that I'm not very good at writing Shizu. I figured that I'd be bad at writing Albedo before, but with this chapter I realised that I'm far worse with CZ Delta. Especially when she isn't the main focus in a conversation. ...She always struck me as a bit more of a recluse— not really taking charge in a convo.

Ah well. Did this chapter strike you as a bit weird?

I sure felt so. I'd say that its because its a departure from standard Overlord, while also being told from the perspective of another character. ...This, coupled with my waning enthusiasm to write the Dark Warrior Arc might be the cause.

Dear God, just lemme get to the Invaders of the Great Tomb Arc already.

Bloody Valkyrie won't end up happening, and Lizard Man Warriors is getting skipped, cause it'll be too similar to canon, with there not really being much in terms of changes due to Cocytus being the primary drive behind the arc.