Re:Animated, Reliving Life in Another World From Zero

by Tall-Gothic-Guy

A Necromancer is easy to describe, but what people rarely ever know about them is that Death is their final wish above everything else. To return to dust and Rest in Peace in the Afterlife. Give a Death Mage the Curse of 'Return by Death', however, then Emurdol Viandegroc will eventually realize that dying in another world is easier said than done. (Graphic and Mature content)

16. Unfair

The traveler looked over his shoulder once again, leaving it up to the red ground dragon to find the path and staring at the two forms of his two passengers resting at the back of his carriage, one tightly enclosed in the arms of the other. Both were silver-haired, pale-skinned, and heavily-tattered when he found them walking on the side of the road, as if they just barely escaped something violent with their lives. The smell of blood and the sight of their right hands didn't help matters either. They were both exhausted as well, blatantly saying that they haven't eaten and drank anything for days.

It wasn't right to leave them like that, so he offered them a ride to wherever they needed to go. He assured them that he didn't need pay when they pressed for it. They wordlessly entered and held each other tightly, trying to get the pain off their minds with each other's warmth. He thought he saw them shuddering, so he offered them the clothes he had packed in his luggage. It's not like he wants to keep those garments anymore. Vollachia is behind him now.

As always, they pressed him about their payment but he brushed it off. He had enough money to buy himself new ones and maybe a place to take rent in Lugnica before he's finally able to buy a house of his own. It took them almost a whole six hours before the Mathers domain was within sight.

As they stepped off the carriage, wearing their new clothes that appeared to fit them quite well, with the little girl wearing a glove that hid her burnt arm, they moved as if the ordeal they went through didn't even happen. Their legs aren't even shaking anymore, and their composure is stable. When they turned their green eyes to his direction, however, she saw nothing but gratitude in them.

The daughter hopped up to the driver's seat and gave a kiss to his cheek before nearly crushing his neck with her tight embrace. The father was the second to step up to him, grabbing his hand with his skeletal one, and placed a large green colored gem on his palm, practically shining off the rising sun. The reflections and the glints from it created mesmerizing projections on his tunic. He has no precise eye for rare minerals but he should know very well that this stone could sell for more than an entire chest full of gold. It could fill 50 of them.

It could have been their heirloom or a keepsake, so he was hesitant to accept, but the daughter said that it was a fair exchange. His kindness to them was something they have never tasted for a long, long time. It gave them the will to keep on going, live on, knowing that there are still good men like him in the world.

With a hesitant nod, he accepted the giant gemstone and bumped foreheads together with the pale man. A gesture of gratitude. He hoped he will see them again, expecting that they managed to build a good life for himself and his daughter, so she could grow up to become beautiful and him to reach a ripe old age full of happiness.

Waving goodbye to each other, he snapped the reins and his ground dragon pulled his carriage to Lugnica in an upbeat pace, the burning warmth that's been growing in his chest since he looked into their grateful eyes staying with him all the way.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

One dip of the held pipe and the witchbeast's body was torn apart, the green vapors of the Smoky Bull separating all four limbs and extracting the insides straight out of the slit belly the sooner it was inhaled by the creature before being wrung in half, squirting blood everywhere.

"That's one hundred beasts…." Remarked a honey-glazed voice, puffs of green smoke flowing out of lipless maws. "Viandegroc was right. It does feel supreme…."

Raising her nonexistent gaze upwards, the entire section of the forest floors in front of her is littered with nothing but the mutilated bodies of every witchbeast that came to claim territory, some clumped together in large haphazard piles. And more just seems to keep coming despite the obvious difference in power of who has the right of claim to the land.

A manticore-like species of its kind had arrived too, the only one to have gotten as close as a meter away from her. A great subject to study for later.

She shook her head, wondering if this is what Viandegroc has to go through in every weekly feast, looking at the continued stupidity performed by creatures functioning outside the Natural Order of Things. "Truly creatures of the devil. They don't know when to stop….."

Taking a deep pull from her pipe, she blew out a humongous cloud from her numerous openings and it moved over to the many, many bodies in front of her as if it were alive and hungry. With a stretched out middle finger, she gestured a beckoning and the vapors pushed every corpse she's responsible for into a single pile in front of her, leaving behind large trails of blood and smearing the entire forest floors, glistening under the sunlight breaching through trees with black or red.

Expanding her upper body in size, making her arms extend morbidly while leaving the lower half and her third arm holding the pipe unchanged, she carefully reached forward with her gigantic limbs to scoop massive handfuls from the body pile without knocking over any trees before dropping them into the gaping maw on her face, reaching from below her nonexistent nose to above her ribcage. It is wide enough to fit a regular mud golem in.

And she gorged. It's almost a reflection of who she once was in her living life. She was, of course, the Supreme Corruption of Gluttony. The difference is she only ate the vapors of her stress-relieving 'medicine', keeping the stress of being a Marchioness away while making her body very hypersensitive. The addiction she developed was never dealt with, instead she enabled it. And she soon discovered that sex can never feel like absolute heaven without it. Oh, the debauchery she practiced with every male in the land she owned. And she was so young.

The withdrawal was when it all got even worse than when the men mutilated her vengeful husband in front of her and she enjoyed it. She became hungry. Very hungry. And it never got sated until she found a fix deep within the ground, heavily populated by hellspawns who let her have it before they had their way with her.

It became her own deathtrap when the latest 'visitor' was extremely vicious and wanted her dead. And she never realized that she was no longer human till she actually died.

She never thought she would end up eating like this again, especially the way she is. She isn't messy in a sane state of mind, and raw meat is only delicious under a withdrawal. The anatomy of a flesh golem literally encouraged feasting on anything organic flesh, alive or not. Even the back of her thoughts are muddled with the constant desire to eat.

The rhythmic sounds of scrunching and squelching coming from her chewing slowly drawing to a stop, her pantry now emptied and leaving the forests free of witchbeasts for now, and she unconsciously wiped her gigantic maw free of blood with the back of her equally large hand of four fingers before she shrunk herself back to humanoid proportions. Taking the pipe from her third hand before letting it sink back into her side, she took a long pull and let out the vapors delicately, seeping through her numerous openings.

She eyed the corpse of the manticore witchbeast she refrained from eating, "The boy would likely find interest this one. I'll take you home…." The vapors fumed underneath its corpse, the smoky platform levitating it off the ground with its head, limbs and tail sagging from the edges.

The walk home took more than an hour, with the corpse behind her likely decomposing and attracting flies, but she eventually reached the hole on the ground. Into the unlit caverns that has reached even further down and expanded more than hundreds of meters away since Emurdol now had a daughter to love, she went over to the greatly spacious extension of the cave that served as the meat storage where many bodies of witchbeasts were neatly arranged in bone hooks or lined on ivory tables. She placed the chimera's corpse near the entry way, easy to spot once he steps inside.

Walking over to the private quarters that served as both Meili's and his room, she turned her nonexistent eyes to the corner where a table and bench to serve as a study is placed. And placed on the surface of the ivory table was a highly ornate battle axe of great size, a black bone dagger, and a leather helmet shaped like a crow head.

And seated on the bench facing away from the table and holding his face with both flesh and bone, motionless as a statue, was Emurdol.

Learning the context behind what actually happened between him and the Demon Maid once he heard it from Viandegroc affected him quite greatly.

And she is not liking the sight of it. If she had a proper face, she would have presented the scowl she was famous for when she was no longer human. This sort of behavior is unbecoming from someone like him. She will not accept it. Not like this.

Her voice echoed in the cavern, "I come back with high expectations and I see you heerrrrre…..moping." She took a short pull of her pipe, seeping out in each syllable out of her mouth, "You should already be gone, seeing the poor maid and be with your darling daughter afterwards…."

She deliberately let her footsteps echo, announcing her presence as she walked closer to him. The closer she got, the more his fingers curled and his head ducking even lower.

She stood right in front of him, nonexistent eyes glowering over him like a stern mother to a son as more mouths appeared on her mannequin-like body out of annoyance, gritting their teeth so hard that the grinding sounds reached far outside the section of the cavern they were in. "Is wallowing in self-pity and regret the best you could do? Hm?"

Her diction maintained the frequency it had to sway hearts, the flesh golem having amazingly matched the one she had in her living life back in Pandemonium, but the reprimanding tone was very noticeable. "It amazes me how the Hero of Pandemonium could be so easily put down by one mistake….when you have made MORE!"

Suddenly, her hand shot out from downwards to grab his throat in-between his forearms and his back slammed hard against the table, jolting the weapons and the mask atop from their places. His hands grabbed her wrist in a tight grip, but it was feeble compared to his actual strength. His ragged face is now visible as he looked at her with gritted teeth. The white of his eyes were tinged red from the bloody tears, the light in his green orbs so dim it could not be seen in complete darkness, and his cheeks were greatly red.

This is so pathetic. She could barely stand doing this. Why is the man keeping her from the Nothingness so complicated and had to be delicately handled? He has been getting emotionally volatile since coming to this world, and it's only going to get worse now that every Soul in the wand are given the right to Live, to influence the world once more through Meili's Flesh Golem.

She took a long pull from the pipe in her other hand before continuing, the vapors leaking out in each syllable but never touching Emurdol's face.

"Take responsibility. You are at fault, she is at fault. You are both to blame for each other's suffering. The reason all this happened was because you two never spoken properly to each other. You barely respected each other's existence, and you both refuse to understand the other." She tightened her grip on his throat, threatening to give him harm despite the fact that he was the creator of her and the Court's body, "Grow a pair and face her already. You have vowed to love your daughter above all else and support Emilia's fight for the Seat of Power, and you are making that a complete difficulty by being here. You wanted to hear it straight out of her mouth—you want to hear it yourself so you will not be fooled by any lie, so go! You're killing that girl by the sheer guilt of the deeds she has done to you! She's regretful! If you truly wish to forgive her, at least listen to her apologize or explain herself! It will ease her heart and yourself."

And she pushed him against the table again as she let go of his neck, jolting the mementos of every Supreme Sin he killed once again.

He glared at her as he rubbed his scarred neck, having recently-operated on not long ago, but the light in his eyes were weak. She is right, and he knows that. And his daughter is counting on him to make do with what Viandegroc had said. He will return to the Mansion soon, he said, and 'soon' is either now or later. The latter choice is no longer applicable.

A monstrous scowl crossed his features before he slammed his fists on his bony thighs. Astonishingly, there was no sound of the bones underneath the baggy cloth cracking under the force of the blow. Truly a work of genius made by the hand of the greatest Osteomancer of the Order of the Serpent back in Pandemonium.

Emurdol stood up, sneering lightly, and he faced the table again, reaching for the axe—

She immediately stopped his hand from even brushing his fingers against it, his wrist caught in a rather painful four-fingered grip. Lesser humans would have buckled and croaked from the pain, but not his kind. They don't show that sort of weakness. He only turned a questioning glare at her.

"You are not heading for a fight, just to remind you. You don't need them, and you don't need any of us in the way. Leave them here under my watch." She firmly told, her tone implying that there will be no arguments on it. "Approach her as yourself."

He stared at her for only a couple seconds before he submitted, lowering his hand and placing his wand there as well. She could not believe it happening in front of her. He rarely ever leaves it behind, much less let a minion watch over it aside from Moman.

Reaching into the void, he pulled out the bottle that contained the Supreme Corruption of Envy's disembodied head inside, staring vacantly into space as he bobbed in the depths of the embalming liquid. He placed the container on the table surface with a light thump. An impressive display of self-control compared to just slamming it down. [Do you need to talk to them?]

Despite having no bodily detail or the muscle memory to indicate emotion, she tried to regain her composure anyway. "Urgently, I do."

[What time is it?]

"Two hours before dusk."

[Then by evening, I shall go.] Turning on his stilted feet, he walked out of the cavern and headed to the second most expansive part of the cave that served as a training area, where he and Meili once tried to kill each other with their skeletal creations. Just yesterday, he and Moman played an extreme game of tag.

After finding the latter in the place that was once a village that housed the last of the Demon race before the last two survivors were taken in by Roswaal, she was forced back into enslavement and made to construct a new pair of legs for him. Being the greatest in Bone Magic, no one doubted that she'll create something incredibly versatile and strong, to better help her son in surviving a world that hates their kind. In fact, witchbeast anatomy gave way to incredible designs.

And Emurdol loved what she had made: light, highly durable, capable of storing incredible amounts of bone dust in the ivory mass, and built in the likeness of a clockwork automaton's makeup without being too bulky, saving him from having to manipulate multiple joints at once for even the simplest motions. It can also change its shape without the need to be molded like clay first, premade designs allowing them to shift into weapons, flexible spinal columns, or more legs with only a thought.

Before Moman became independent and made their bodies as one, he had to rely on his own mental dexterity to manipulate multiple leg joints at the same time just to manage a single step forward without falling over. It was impossible at first, so he created a mobile and multi-legged throne. It was slow and made for a bigger target, so he lessened the number of legs to four and more integrated to his waist. It was a decent design, with fair speed, endurance, reliability and agility. Years later, when he wanted to go further, he returned to having only two legs. After months of surviving the hunting parties that went after him or the self-appointed quests he took in quelling the lands of every hellspawn that existed through charted or uncharted territory in Pandemonium, he finally attained the subconscious control over his legs that matched a normal biped organism that he began constantly forgetting that he had none in the first place.

It was two years later when he gave Moman freedom and became one with her and finally becoming the Powerhouse they were renowned for in Pandemonium where only the remaining Supreme Sins would have been capable of killing him, and died trying to like the others he's killed before them.

Now, that Unity is broken for good. It was a venomous relationship in the first place. Emurdol had learned diplomacy and would choose its benefits over needless violence, Moman thought otherwise and held suspicion over everyone he met. Sometimes she's right, sometimes she made a big mistake. He could barely notice her rogue actions of 'protecting' him, and it put his decision to give her freewill into question each time he notices. Her lack of reason and self-control left no trace of the honorable, systematic and ethical Queen of Ivory she once was in her living life.

The actions she did to 'protect' him from the distrusting maid was the final nail in the coffin. Though he had now forgiven her, what they once had together between Mother and Son in Pandemonium is over. It will never happen again. One thing about trust for a Priest of the Serpent, it is sacred. It is completely unspeakable to have it broken, especially between family.

Considering how different this world is from their old one, it was definitely for the best.

Sally turned her nonexistent eyes to the other corner, where a certain four-armed skeleton lied over a skeletal bed, donning pauldrons, rerebraces, couters, vambraces, gauntlets, fauld, cuisses, polyn, greaves and sabatons of northern makeup and necromantic aesthetic with a light-eating robe over it all that rendered its existence practically part darkness.

If one looks closely, the bones of stone trolls that were renowned to be as hard as the name implies are sporting a thousand cracks, as if every fragment of the frame was put together with sticky paste.

Sighing, her lungs working just to have it happen, she sat down on the bench facing the ivory table, arranging the mementos in a sorted fashion according to who died first and who died last. Despite the lack of a brain, the chapters of every owner's life passed through her consciousness as if she had went through them herself.

Viandegroc was the first, the ivory knife stained with the blood of everything it killed, murdered by Emurdol when he was correctly suspected to be the Supreme Corruption of Lust who reveled over the sensation of power he received from the Order of the Serpent and was on the verge of losing his sense of self despite the torture he suffered from the loss of his eyesight. He was the opposite of what the Order embodies, so the knife that came to slit his throat was bound to come and claim him.

Bartholomew was the second, a bastard son who murdered his biological family and the people of the lands they owned, jealous over the happiness others have enjoyed as a family compared to him who had suffered for being born from a servant and suffered hell for it that he brought them back to life upon murdering them and relived many scenarios that he so wanted from the beginning. The Supreme Corruption of Envy was soon eaten by the corpses he enslaved and was beheaded afterwards. The Order of the Serpent do not suffer posers of necromancy, and Emurdol made that clear.

She herself was next in line. A young lady stressed under the responsibility of being a noble that she turned to a drug that was supposed to be taken at responsible doses. She stopped caring about risks and took a whole amount when she was about to crumble from the weight of it all, and hypersensitivity kicked in soon after. She took even more, and soon discovered sex to be a far more effective persuasion tactic into getting what she wants. It is more drugs. The hunger withdrawal eventually kicked in when she ran out that she ate her partners, male and female, human or otherwise, young or old, and the land she owned slowly became a living hell until she found the cave. Her Gluttony as well as herself soon became the next to fall, tortured to death in her lair when a necromagus found out where she was hiding. Her pipe was all that was intact. The lair and everyone else inhabiting it is either killed or reduced to a bloody paste.

Lucifer was the one to have given Emurdol a true battle in his life that nearly sent him to his meeting with the Dragon. A conquering king whose benevolence is overshadowed by his arrogance. What he does not have, he will take even though he has so much. So much land he rules over, he wants to have even more. He wanted all the adoration the commoners could give to their betters to himself, he destroyed every competition that exists in every other kingdom and sacked them for his ownership. It was quick for his image to devolve into that of a tyrannical despot. And his corrupt public image became an obsession. His interests soon turned into the want for all of hatred to be turned towards him afterwards, solely for him. Atrocity after atrocity, he did it all to turn the eye of hatred towards his direction. A desire easily succeeded, and have unfortunately involved one of the very few people Emurdol ever cared about. All that Greed became his downfall. What he did to draw out even more hatred from a near-dying Necromagus did not save him from the Vengeful Souls who broke into the Living Realm and ripped his supremely impervious body to pieces. His Great Axe should have been handed over to the Order of the Serpent by now for safekeeping.

William was the final Sin to be killed. Someone who was assumed to be immortal and unkillable. A claim so easily debunked by a single little nick from a black bone knife. It indeed took an entire two hours to kick in but he fell all the same. Alive for as long as he claimed, he had been helping the misfortunate and the afflicted with anything. He was needless and practically wealthy. He doesn't even need to rest. He was easily loved and declared a Saint for all his deeds. His magnificent deeds overshadow the deeds of the corrupt men who also benefitted from him. His desire to help is genuine and endless, but he does not discriminate from who he should help. He had no moral center. He only helped for the sake of helping. He never does so to see good results, only the act itself, no matter if it ruins people's lives or sends them to a hell that they didn't deserve so long as the ones he helped get what they want. Anyone who dared question his actions is met with violent retaliation, greatly emphasizing that he helped to make people feel better, no matter who it is. There had been other Good Samaritans who profess the true Good of all things, and he killed them because they take away his purpose to exist. True to the holder of the Supreme Corruption of Pride. Emurdol had resurrected every corpse defiled by his 'help' from the day William was born and had them brutalize his corpse the sooner he can no longer fight back. A whole month of torture was almost not enough for all the things he's done in his long life. Behind the crow mask he wore to hide his identity, it was just a man who can no longer be called a human.

Sally eyed the wand that was placed below the row of mementos, subtly glowing from the eyes of the skull placed at the top of it.

It was no secret that Emurdol's Mother was the Supreme Corruption of Wrath. Human or not, there will be someone who will bear the Corruption that was once ripe in Pandemonium in its Golden Days before it was usurped. The Order of the Serpent are no exceptions. Compared to the others, she was in complete control of what could have made her become worthy of the title. She was never wrathful or spiteful. She was a graceful Priestess of the Serpent, impartial and fair to all she met, never an irrational action done and kept her emotions in check without extensive use of Emotion Suppression. She even fell in love with an Above-Worlder. The man himself was a member of the Order of Witch Hunters, an enemy of the Order of the Serpent. He was a fair and rational man just like her, thinking before acting, seeing that the Lady Necromagus targeted the Apocalypse Beasts, never harmed an innocent and only killed humans out of self-defense, defying all orders and protocols that was ever ingrained to his head. He was sentenced to death for his presumed 'insolence' and he defected to settle down with her.

The moment she was round with child, that was when her Corruption finally became ripe. She was vulnerable and the wrathful members of the Order of Witch Hunters took the moment to strike when she was at her weakest. Her beloved husband lost his life to defend her at the moment of Emurdol's birth. Her Wrath dealt the Order a heavy blow that their dignity as Protectors in the Shadows are defiled forever when she tracked them down to their most secret base of operations and annihilated every single member she met, including their greatest fighters and their key figures, all while she sat on a palanquin of ivory, carried forward by four members of the Apocalypse Legion, and held her infant son in her arms as he cried for the loss of a Father at the moment of his first breath.

The Order of Witch Hunters are quite tenacious that they have easily rebuilt themselves in a matter of years but they have never recovered from the trauma of her attack and they now knew better the next time they see a Priest of the Serpent in their sights.

She returned Underground afterwards and entrusted Emurdol to the Immortal Queen Lady Sabarra. She was aware of her growing Corruption of Wrath, and she's completely aware that she will end up doing unforgivable things purely for the sake of her son—she will make everyone her enemy because of her love for her child, including the Order she was religiously devoted to. A self-righteous monster. It will make her no different than the other Supreme Sins that still ran rampant on the world above and she will not dishonor the name of the Order of the Serpent with her existence. With a heavy heart, she took her own life by setting her body on fire with every Underground inhabitant witnessing the event, weeping tears of blood in sympathy on the behalf of her sleeping son and singing a dirge in her name.

It's quite ironic that an action intended to snuff the blight that would have been wrought by Wrath ended up doing the complete opposite when Emurdol beckoned her Soul from the Afterlife and had her stay inside a skeletal shell of her burnt remains just to have a semblance of a Family in his life. The world continues to work in strange ways, Sally reflected.

She turned her nonexistent eyes to the entrance of the cavern they were in, the same one Emurdol used just minutes ago.

There had been debate in the Court whether the boy himself is the Supreme Corruption of Sloth, just to entertain the thought of every Supreme Sin gathered in a single vessel—something that is impossible—and it continues to this day where there had been multiple signs and inconsistencies of his confirmation. However, since Emurdol left behind the mementos of the Sins he killed and swore to face the maid at dusk, that makes the answers clear if he was or not. The moment he actually goes, it's now legitimate in the confirmation that he is not Sloth.

Taking a last pull of her pipe and letting it out delicately, she relaxed on her seat and reached into the Court as she laid a single finger on the grip of the wand.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

All eyes were aimed on the center of the circular gathering, and in the middle was the Mother of Emurdol, knelt on the stony floors of the Underground city she used to walk on with pride, wearing the traditional robes of ordained Priestesses of the Serpent, tinged in light-eating black and lined with bones of her making.

Despite the loss of her authority and command over the other Souls, she still manages to be graceful in her loss despite being dead. She is grieving and the emotion is extremely raw from her presence, everyone could feel it like it was their own, but the way she conveyed it from her faux-form never made dejection look so beautiful before.

She was tall in her living life, true to common traits of people Underground, enough to be face to face with Sally if she were standing. Even while kneeling, she managed to be tall. She was still as a statue, her long silky hair of pure white cascading down her back and on to the rocky ground, like a waterfall reflecting the blinding light of a Seraphim descending down from Heaven. There was no distinction of the color white between her tresses and her skin that they appear to be merged together on her head. Her face was indeed beautiful by the standards of humans; large eyes, sharp chin, a small nose, delicate cheeks, and thin lips—it would look as if she never went through the trials she set herself on in the Above-World.

The stoic depression left a mark on her features. Instead of marring it, it only created a mysterious image of beauty. Silent tears of red leaked from the corners of her closed eyes, the slight stiffness of her cheeks made the bitterness clear, and her clasped fingers in front of her waist showing from the end of her thin sleeves emanated dignity.

She was like an art piece in the eyes of the Court surrounding her.

"Oh, how the mighty fell." Viandegroc remarked, crossing his arms as he looked at her pitifully.

"Yes, fell like the Mighty King." Lucifer echoed, resting both his hands on the pommel of his great axe planted to the ornate floors of his castle. "My Greed was my downfall. It would be right that she fell from grace because of her Wrath."

"It was about time she be put back in her place too….." Sally added, lounging on her bed in the most compromising position as always. "All the things the boy had to do in order to rectify what she did….." She took a deep breath, inhaling from the pipe and blowing out the green vapors in a large cloud from her lips and flowing upwards to the above. "It hurts to watch….and it's because of his Mother tooooo….."

"It's a fucking cycle, that's what it is." Viandegroc grouched sharply, "She causes a mess, Brother goes to fix it. Then she causes another out of a certain 'suspicion' she had while he worked. I was about to lose my damn mind when he took too long to notice, even when I don't have one."

"And I had to deal with a moping side of him when he would have went loooong ago….." Her purr dragged on, turning a demonic scowl to Bartholomew's direction, her features shifting to the ravenous monster she once was in her living life. "You and your damn self-pitying self….."

The young noble looked down, seated on an ornate chair that once belonged in his extravagant home, having no excuses.

"It could not be helped, Milady." William told, turning to face her while he stood ramrod straight on the grass. "His head was in his possessions. How the Master acted is outside of his control."

"We are not supposed to corrupt the boy….!" The green vapors surrounded her naked form threateningly, her tone of voice starting to lose its honey-like quality. "His defenses are weakening and our independence is responsible for it!"

"It's better than him realizing that he can no longer die, whore! It would be the end of us once he finds out!" Viandegroc roared, burning green eyes aimed at her direction before he suddenly changed his mood, straightening his back and looking over each of them, "Brother is slowly recovering, our relationship with the Mansion folk is about to mend itself through Meili, and the least we could do is support them both. Arguing over these things are not going to do anything."

Sally sighed at that, shifting her demonic body back to her impossible beauty, lying tiredly on her bed with a sultry moan when it should have been a groan. Everyone slightly shifted in place, contemplating his words and slowly agreeing to them. Mother remained still in the center of it all.

"We are not to interfere again, I assume?" William asked after an unknown amount of time in silence.

With a bitter sneer, Viandegroc had to say the opposite, "Unfortunately, we still have to."

Lucifer growled, "It isn't certain whether the boy could recall himself or not. He might break down on himself once he realizes."

"We can assure ourselves that what he wants is still of his own." Viandegroc informed, "His desire to forgive the maid, to love Meili, and to support the half-elf is genuinely his own wishes and not ours. It's the way he acts that is concerning."

"We need to be steadily separated from him…." Sally noted, heaving suggestively while she bit on her lip. She's frustrated, "The Hero of Pandemonium must come back. Seeing him be this pathetic despite everything he's been through is tempting me to create a body of my own when I get the chance just so I can set him straight myself…."

"We shall." Lucifer assured, his natural tone of boast and pride leaving no doubts on the matter. No one else's words are so easy to believe and trust in than his. As corrupt as he was in his living life, he was true to his words and he never lied. "The boy will be free of us."

William raised his gloved hand, "Then I shall deal with the matter of making the new body while your diligent selves handle the Master's wellbeing."

"We just need the perfect shell." Viandegroc noted, contemplating possible choices that could make for a good component. "If we are going to make a new body for Mama, it needs more than human necessities to bring even a semblance of the Queen of Ivory back."

Lucifer watched as Mother's eyes slowly opened, blood-soaked orbs of bright green widening to a shocked look as her white head turned to face Viandegroc, gaping in disbelief. He harrumphed, "It seems the boy's benevolence surprises even his Mother, and she calls herself the woman who birthed the one who slew the Mighty King." He commented with a puff of his chest, looking down haughtily on the bewildered woman.

"Oh, you thought you would be banished to the Nothingness, didn't you?" Viandegroc asked, meeting her eye contact with a calm gaze, "Brother loves you too much for that. You've been with him all his life, after all. But unlike you, we know him more than you. How else would you think we knew that before he even mentioned it to any of us?"

Bitterly, Mother pursed her lips and pointed her gaze downwards, struck down by the truth harder than when her entire frame was shattered apart when her son found her in the Demon Village's former location.

"You should be happy, Mama. While we get to keep a body that doesn't even have a brain, you are going to be practically alive." His fists clenched in his crossed arms, "You're too valuable to him, and you are no good being a Soul in the wand like us. You're the only one here who knows the Order's magic as much as he does without borrowing his body but now, you need a mind in order to learn reason and self-control."

"Not that it would be soon, of course…." Sally reminded, blowing out a small puff through her nose.

"The boy handed over your leash to us, to better control you, therefore you will now serve our will." Lucifer informed.

Viandegroc turned a fierce look to the King's direction, "Brother's will. She serves Brother's will, not ours."

"His will is our will. Our will is his will. There's naught a difference." The giant of a man retorted.

"Wrong." The Marchioness objected coldly, vividly and plainly. Her usual diction was gone, and the demon of Gluttony stood and glowered over the presumptuous King with an intensely hateful glare, a gargantuan cloud of green hovering behind her that it could have been mistaken for a grassy mountain. "We are but Souls, shadows of our former lives. Our identity or our will does not exist anymore, and the boy is not our puppet. We are his slaves, and his will is law. Do you understand, Your Majesty?"

Judging stares were turned to the King's direction, waiting for him to make an argument on something undeniable. Even the taciturn Jester was eyeing him funny, finding his claims unacceptable. Spats and arguments were the norm in the Court, always a heated debate in regards to claims and facts despite being equals but when it comes to the boy who killed and imprisoned them in the wand, no one insinuates that he is their medium for their desires in the Living World. Emurdol's desires are his and his alone.

Fortunately, being dead humbles even the haughtiest, and the Mighty King is graceful despite his temperament. He inclined his head, "I concede."

"Good enough." Viandegroc turned to face them all, "With that aside, is there anything else to discuss?"

No one said any more. They know what to do with themselves now while making sure nothing goes wrong again: they will continue to serve Emurdol; raise Meili to become self-defined alongside him; keep him sane; keep him happy; rebuild his resistance; support Emilia to the Seat of Power; and find the perfect specimen to serve as Mother's new body.

Being dead and inhabiting an abomination comprising of thousands upon thousands of witchbeast bodies, they can keep up with every impossible task they encounter.

"Very well. We are done here." On cue, Viandegroc, Sally, and the Mighty King disappeared from the Court in an eye blink, sent back to the Living World while Bartholomew, William and Mother remained behind.

The latter returned to her brooding state, closing her eyes and interlocking her delicate fingers in front of her waist, knowing that her reason to be acknowledged as another Soul among Souls is over. She may be given a body at a later date but she will not be called on unless she is wanted. She's going to be put in the background for the majority of her existence, like a pebble on the road. Present but easily ignored. The other Souls have now taken her place in guarding her son's well-being, and they might do better than her, considering that they understood him more than she ever could.

Then soft hands separated her clasped fingers, making her open her eyes in surprise as Bartholomew knelt in front of her and pulled her up to her feet. He isn't tall enough to make her stand fully, but his sudden actions were compelling enough to make her do so. Wearing a grimace, the young noble took slow steps back as he maintained his hold, as if he was leading a child that was learning to walk.

Mother's brow furrowed in question, wondering what is he doing.

And she quickly found out why, when Life suddenly overtook her entire senses. The stone on her feet suddenly turned into grass, the stale air of the Underground City warped into fresh air, and her skin felt the heat of the sun above. Sensations that she thought were long forgotten and could never feel again came flooding back to the senses she suddenly had, and she fell to the earth, overwhelmed.

She was given a taste of what she'll go through once again when her new body is ready, and she could not believe that she was so out of touch despite having influenced the Living World for so many years.

And until her mind settles to the sensation of being Alive, Bartholomew will remain next to her, guiding her as much as he can once she does. He's been next to useless since the others decided to become assertive after the incident at the Loot House. Even if he takes control of the Flesh Golem, he has nothing to contribute aside from creating highly intuitive zombies, and the vessel's pool of mana is too tiny to create even 10 compared to what he formerly had in his Living Life that could raise thousands.

"Would you like this Lowly Servant to keep you both private?" William offered respectfully, kneeling before the noble seated on the grass.

Bartholomew nodded, not pulling his eyes away from the white woman collapsed on the earth, convulsing and shaking from the many forgotten sensations going through her mind, even inhaling loudly and incessantly as if she had discovered how to breathe in order to stay conscious.

"Very well." Rising to his feet, the Valet turned around and faced the mistress of the false world they are currently intruding on. Typical Witch of Greed, the look of ravenous curiosity in her black orbs did not seem to change the last time he had seen them.

Just one step forward and he was already seated in front of the woman in black from across the table, taking his wide-brimmed hat off his hood-covered bald white head that sported many, many slice scars and placing it on his lap.

"I highly compliment the kind of lot you and your companions are. Lesser men would have heaved their stomach contents just for being in my mere presence." Echidna told with an unsettlingly polite smile.

"I'll pass your compliments to them, should they have the patience to even want it." Pure red stared deeply into jet black as he replied with his unchanging tone of pure politeness. "For the time being, allow this Lowly Servant to entertain the Host."

"Shouldn't the Host entertain the guest?"

"We are but intruders, we have no right to be considered guests." He explained, smoothing the irremovable crunch on his hat. "I'm merely here as an appeasing medium between you and the people I serve."

"Even if I were to be mean and go wild on all of you, I would receive no reward even if I win since all of you are really powerful people, either nearly or completely matching the might of a Witch like me. If any of you retaliate, my mana would have been eaten in the process, and I'll die."

Both heads turned to face behind William's back when the sound of something exploding out of the earth erupted in the same place Bartholomew and Mother was. The matron was suddenly stood up, expectedly with a form of help, but Bartholomew cannot take credit for it. Instead, skeletal arms were snaking out of the grass and holding up multiple parts of Mother's body, trying to emulate a position of herself standing. The woman herself was still shaking and hyperventilating, tears of blood flowing endless out of her sockets, the sensation of exerting power and movement still too much to bear on her mind.

Assertively, contradictive to his usual timid self, Bartholomew pulled the tall woman out of her bony constructions' grasps and gently set her back down to the ground, wordlessly demanding that she adjust to her body first before doing anything.

"Though I was highly aware that you are all not alive in essence, it is still interesting to see evidences of it." Echidna commented, thin fingers interlocked below her chin and resting on it as she watched it all happen, "Living beings who enter this domain wouldn't suffer anything like that, just like the young boy you all kept looking after when he came by."

"Allow me to warn you in advance that she will remain here for as long as she wishes until she finally settles to the sensation of being alive. And when she finally settles, she will come back every now and then to stay sharp."

The Witch pouted, "You are all just taking advantage of my generosity when you are all not even paying proper compensation."

"There is no generosity nor respect to begin with, Greed." William kindly pointed out, "We are intruders to a domain, and we do not have the slightest damn in regards to what the owner feels about our presence. I hope you understand."

"Aww…." Echidna slumped on her chair, defeated as she held her face despondently. "….considering that none of you are actually asking for knowledge and wisdom from a Witch who holds all knowledge of the world and are just simply walking around enjoying being alive while you're here, I might as well go with the flow."

"I thank you on their behalf, even though they wouldn't. Quite a few of them are now cross with you."

She sighed, looking quite exhausted, "Would you like to meet the other witches? Someone's quite eager to help the poor woman over there."

"Define 'help', would you kindly."

"A certain Witch has the power to heal the wounded with nothing but a strike of her fist, and she's quite passionate when it comes to helping people." She informed, looking pointedly at Mother, "Her name is Minerva, the Witch of Wrath, and she's been yelling in my ear nonstop since she arrived. I'm very certain she can help her settle to her body in an instant."

"Wrath, you say…." Though his face remained frozen in its neutral visage, his gesture of holding his chin while looking into space indicated a cloud of interest and inquiry. "I suppose that can be done."

A large close-lip smile spread across Echidna's lips, exhuming a different mood compared to earlier, and the curiosity in her eyes practically burned. Her entire form glowed a blinding white light, and suddenly, an extreme gust of wind blew from her location, blowing back the chair she once occupied, the table, the cups and teapot, and William himself before he fluidly rolled back to his feet.

A woman's shouting from above made him look up, and he watched a white missile fly at ballistic speeds towards Mother and Bartholomew's location like a falling star. The instinct of worry overtook him before his mind caught up to the fact that he was already beside Mother. Once his mind remembered what the Witch told him, the white missile already crashed to the earth, right on Mother's collapsed body.

Tenaciously, he suffered the shockwave of the impact and the cloud of dirt that came with it like a stone wall, maintaining his posture despite falling a few inches down from the newly created crater. Bartholomew didn't fare so well, blown away and his momentum left him rolling on the ground a few meters back. Having zero combat experience, he was incapable of rolling back to his feet like William could.

The latter didn't move to help the noble up, taking the time to process what he's seeing: pink hearts popping into existence like bubbles and disappearing like so a second after.

There was another woman stood over Mother, significantly shorter, slimmer, and younger-looking that she would have not seen her 19th winter yet, and she had her fist planted on the Osteomancer's cheek.

"Alive or not! I will not tolerate anyone's suffering in my sights!" The girl stood upright, clenching her fists raised at shoulder level and fierily shouting to the sky with a tear-filled voice, "I hate it! I hate that you would suffer just for being alive again! I hate that you all have died painfully before I saved you! I hate that I wasn't there at the time! I hate it! Hate it! Hate it! Hate it! Hate it! Hate it! Hate it! I hate it all! Why must everything be so full of suffering!?"

William finally had the time to level with this passionate girl. She was impressively cute and had a lovable face, even if tinged red with rage and tears. Pale-skinned, blue-eyed and golden-haired, tied in a high-ponytail, she donned a white overcoat over a blue minidress, and her large bosom is poking through an opening from an unbuttoned part of her coat. A rather profound type of beauty compared to Echidna, who carries a mysterious kind of allure.

"May this Lowly Servant know your name, dear Ma'am?"

Tear-soaked eyes turned to face him, "My name is Minverva, the Witch of Wrath, and I loathe the entire world's suffering and violence that led to her death!" She reared her fist back and struck him cleanly in the cheek. He recoiled from the impact because of her monstrous strength but he fluidly spun along the momentum and maintained an upright form before sliding to a stop, his robes flying to catch up to his movements before hanging to a stop. "Healed or not, I will not accept even scars of anyone's past pain! Everyone should be unblemished and beautiful!"

He ran his leather-covered fingers across his bald head as he put down his hood, and he felt a smooth surface. She wiped out his scars with the power behind her rejuvenating strikes.

"A thank you is in order it would seem—"

"No!" Minerva cut him off, "Do not thank me! I just hate suffering! That's it! You don't have to thank me for doing something about it! Now you do not have the slightest injury on you, not even an ant bite! That is a Witch's Promise, you hear!?"

"Is that so?" He suddenly appeared in front of the Witch of Wrath, taking both her clenched fists into his grasp and bringing them close to look at them. They looked so clean, so delicate, so virgin—as if they have not seen work for all her life. "The Master would like you very easily if he ever meets you."

"Who?"

The sound of the earth cracking emanated from behind her. Her head turned to look at the source of the sound so fast she could have snapped her neck, her high-ponytail unable to catch up in time.

"Her son." He answered, turning to look as well.

Mother, having been punched to stability by Minerva, was no longer shaking or hyperventilating. Even her impossibly green eyes are seeing clarity, no longer glazed over from the overwhelming sensations going through her mind. She is now rising up to her feet, assisted by the skeletal hands shooting out of the grass and pushing her back and rear. Her left hand gripped on a clenched fist jutting from the ground to lift herself up, accompanied by another skeletal grasp on her right armpit to stabilize her posture. She put her feet under her, and she let out a low groan in exertion, her upper body teetering with her arms spread to maintain balance while the skeletal appendages held her by the waist.

Stood at a full height, she can now be forehead to forehead with William and had her gaze pointed downwards to face the short Witch, who matched Bartholomew in stature as well, who stepped up to see the blonde stranger.

Minerva met the woman's questioning gaze squarely and neutrally, crossing her arms under her large bosom and asked, "Why the stare?"

More arms appeared from the ground and held Mother's shoulders as she tried to lean downwards, to have a better look at the Witch, and her frown grew deeper in question, as if she was looking at someone she thought she had met once.

Lips, tongue, larynx, and lungs worked in preparation, and came from her mouth a heavily-accented inquiry that signified the first word she ever uttered outside the Court:

"Siiiiiiister…..?"

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

"Sloppy, Miss Meili. You missed the underside of the table, the top of the shelf, and the corners. In fact, start all over again. Give everything a full makeover of cleanliness that even Lord Roswaal can eat from the floor."

"Yes, Sister Ram." Meili threw the rag to the bucket full of water, landing on the edge before she grabbed the feather duster and moved to work the first of the tasks told of her, kneeling down and waved the cleaning implement against the underside of the guest quarter's table. Afterwards, she'll sweep the floors, followed by a mopping, and then a full hands-on wiping on every crook and crevice of the room. And she's also given a time limit of an hour too.

Once she finishes all of it, this guest room will be left squeaky clean like what Ram wanted and she can proceed to the next room, with 18 more to go, and this is only the first floor.

Given what had happened since three days ago, only the immature could not see that the elder sister loathed their young guest greatly, and it shows with a scowl or a cutting glare on her cute face behind her Master's back. She and the object of her spite being in the same room for more than an hour without threats being thrown around shouldn't be possible.

In fact, looking at the little girl's face is the last thing she wants when she started the day. Instead, it went differently. Rather than having a moment of quiet and stability, Meili suddenly approached her and her little sister as they were hanging up laundry, saying a set of words she didn't even expect hear.

"Give me something to do." The question was directly aimed at Ram, looking firmly on her crimson eyes that it almost looked like she didn't even notice Rem was there beside her, looking in confusion. "A chore or some sort of labor, I want to occupy myself."

When pressed why, the answer was immediate, "Because there's nothing for me to do."

Her attitude and demeanor was a far cry from the domineering and sweetly malicious brat she once was. Her olive green eyes were dim, glazed over, her usual smile was nowhere to be seen, and her words weren't dragged at the end like she usually would, only curt and straight to the point. She even declined breakfast when she was approached at the bone tree.

She clearly knows it had something to do with what she learned last night, the reasons of Rem's actions. It wasn't certain what motivation the girl had to ask for work from the person who hates her, whether to atone for her behavior or to keep her mind off of the guilt, but Ram saw only an opportunity. An opportunity to hit back in a way only a Maid can do.

And that is extremely high-standard maid work. Wearing the same maid outfit of a smaller size to fit Meili's form, Ram practically drove her like a slave. Made to work in a performance level that's even above Rem's usual diligence, the impromptu maid's body is worked over to the limit that a child of her age could not reasonably withstand like any other human child.

Ram had been purposely impeding her progress: knocking over a vase, spilling muck on previously-cleaned floors, and changing her rules every five minutes. A chance to land injury on Meili, she took it with the full subtlety only a good maid is capable of. Tripping her to the shard-covered floors while she was lifting something heavy, purposely bumping her against the wall whenever she felt like 'changing locations', or even had her mess up something she cleaned up in order to do it again according to her dictations.

Despite all this, Meili was silent. She didn't whine. She didn't weep. She didn't scowl. She didn't even pause to take a breath. Any injury she took, it was completely unnoticed or ignored. They didn't even bleed. The little girl was moving like a machine, functioning according to the orders given to her with the expected performance uncannily matched. Her movements even implied that there was experience behind them.

When asked how she learned domestic work, the answer was straightforward and to the point as always. "I worked undercover as a maid in a noble's mansion once. It took a whole year before the kill-strike was ordered."

When asked how she killed her target, the answer matched what she expected, "I poisoned his tea."

When lunch came, that was when a 'break' was taken. It mainly consists of Ram ordering Meili to make some tea for her. Every little misstep the former made, the little girl is forced to start from the very beginning, even had her put back the herbs into their containers and back to their places in the shelf before starting again. It only took Ram's thirst to make her declare Meili's 21st iteration 'acceptable'. While she drank her tea, Meili is made to clean up the kitchen, including every meat and vegetable to be meticulously rinsed once again.

Though it is dulled by Meili's complying doormat attitude, Ram found satisfaction nonetheless.

But she failed to catch on to the fact that the impromptu maid's emotions were locked away, preventing any anger or bitterness from coming to the surface. Her body had been worked over extensively before, but the strain is coursing through her despite its improvements from prior surgeries. Emotion Suppression made her go through everything despite it, rationalizing that it was natural considering what must be done.

The Souls have been getting very eager at the prospect of Meili seeing her father again, but there are still those who spited the maid after the hearing last night. Both positive and negative receptions melding together are dangerous to her wellbeing, and seeing Rem again is enough to trigger them, so she locked her heart away to protect herself. And her heartless self immediately rationalized that if her father was to stay here, there will more than a handful of drawbacks to have even one member of the mansion bearing animosity towards her. The best solution is either tolerance or acceptance, and her mind, uncaring of trivialities, decided that she must satisfy Ram's desire for retribution.

She predicted that the elder sister will not be merciful and justified that it will be worth it, to better benefit herself and her father in the long run.

Breaking out of Emotion Suppression will be lethal, as some Souls have likely grown to spite Ram for her slave-driving and pass their rage onto Meili, which will then kill her. She will have to wait until her father comes, and then have him silence their demands once he does.

"Miss Meili."

Dull olive green eyes turned to face Ram as she called her name. "Yes, Sister Ram?"

"Ram wants to know the actual answer. There is clearly more to this than just demanding to be occupied. Why are you doing this?"

A pause, then one eye blink, and the answer afterwards, something that hasn't happened before, "Because it wasn't fair."

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

It was at the time of the evening that Rem was about to do her final rounds around the Mansion when her nose suddenly picked up that scent again. That rubbery, metallic, ashen, and smoky scent. Maid duties are completely sent to the back of her mind, the center of her focus seeking out the source of this smell.

Flail drawn out, the sound of rustling chains echoing in the dark silence, she took off towards the direction the scent was strongest. She was at the 2nd floor, and the scent seemed to be coming from the 1st. The smell was getting stronger—she's getting near.

There was a crack open on one of the doors of the guest quarters, and it was coming from there. Slamming her shoulder on the portal, sending it practically flying to the wall beside it, she saw a figure seated on the bed, and she—

Her arm was suddenly twisted around her back, suddenly having lost her grip on her weapon, and she was suddenly kneeling to the floor. She looked up to the person grappling her, and she saw a cat's mask staring back at her. "Calm down."

With a free hand, he pointed a leather-covered finger to the bed. She turned to look, and resistance left her body entirely.

"….Ser Emurdol….."

Acknowledging the loosening of her muscles under his grasp, Viandegroc released her arm and helped the maid up to her feet. Mother, having been the one who snatched her flail without her noticing, neatly rolled the chains in a loop before handing it back to her.

A leather hand suddenly held Rem's shoulder, and she turned to face the humanoid Flesh Golem that faced the door. "We will keep you both private." Releasing her shoulder, he glided towards the opening, followed behind by the four-armed skeleton, who have grown a head and sported more than a thousand cracks on its ivory frame.

As the door was closed silently, she was suddenly put back in the oppressive atmosphere that matched the one she entered when she entered the guest quarter with Meili inside. Biting her lip, her head lowered, she put away her flail and took in the form of the person she made suffer.

"You…you came back, Ser Emurdol…."

He was different compared to the last time she saw him, when he had been lying on a bed, appearing to be breathless and dead by rights. He sat on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees while his hands, both skeletal and flesh, were interlocked together. Compared to the last time when she thought scars seemed to disappear on his flesh, this time he had scars. There were scratch lines on his left arms, as if they were caused by a wild beast. There was a spot of healed flesh on the side of his neck. There was a gash that seemed to stretch from his left collarbone to the right side of his waist, having been inflicted on him not too long ago. The scar on the front of neck…..

….it is still there. A reminder of her sin.

He wore an attire that isn't a robe anymore. It was an open vest of smooth black leather, baring his arms, his gaunt scarred chest and his toned abdomen, prominently pale against the light of the moon shining through the window behind him. Now that he isn't connected to his Mother's skeleton, he actually wore dark brown leather trousers that seemed slightly too large for him. At each end of the cuffs of his pants, however, showed an appendage that wasn't natural for humans. An ivory spike.

"I've heard from Meili…." The eldritch voice, comprising of the sounds of steel, flesh, and bones meshing together impossibly to form syllables, arrived once more. The last time she heard it, she was being berated for her stupidity, for her continued inadequacy as a Demon. "….your reasons…..the reason why you did what you did…."

This time, however, instead of the voice being fiery and coated in rage, it was neutral and open. Diplomatic, expressing a desire to be answered with the proper respects in mind. "But I want to hear it….straight from you. I want to hear the whole truth from you."

Though he was motionless as a statue, the voice in her head told her all the things she needed to know how much he really needed to hear her explain.

She was resigned, so she agreed. "May Rem have a chair to sit on first?" She asked politely, but the professional persona of her voice faltered in the middle of it.

"You don't need my permission." He told, motionless still.

Nodding, she picked up a chair close to the door and gently placed it in front of Emurdol, not the slightest sound made when it touched the carpet-covered floors before she sat down primly.

Gulping, crumpling her skirt in her hands, she tried to look into his eyes but found it impossible to do. His face was shrouded by a curtain of white, hiding his every expression. It wasn't clear whether he was angry or calm. "Rem will start now….if you would allow….?"

"You don't need my permission."

Momentarily berating herself for failing to remember, she finally explained herself. She did her best to rephrase everything she had told to Meili, making sure she spared no details. He deserved to know everything, including her origins. Compared to his daughter, his body was mobile, not remaining in his frozen placement. Throughout her explanation, he separated his hands and clenched them atop his lap. Slowly, he brought them up to his head, clawing them into his scalp.

When she reached the end of her explanation, the only sound present was the sharp intakes of breath from Emurdol and the rattling of the bones of his right hand. He put them down, stood up, his fists shaking beside him, and he approached her, his stilted feet lightly thudding against the floors.

She stiffened, closed her eyes, bowing her head and preparing for the punishing blow to land, deserving every last bit of it.

There was the sound of a strike that cracked in the room. Only, she didn't suffer any blow. Her head had no bruise nor cut nor mark.

Then there was another strike, and it was happening right behind her. Her head quickly swiveled around to look, and she found Emurdol placing his hands against the wall and slamming his forehead against the surface, splattering it with his blood and cracking the mortar.

"Ser Emurdol, what are you doing!? Stop!" She bolted up from her chair and went to stop him. He smashed his head against the wall for the fourth time, an even bigger splatter of red coating the impact spot before she pulled him away from it and he fell on his rear, his gritted teeth visible through a gap from the curtain of white locks. She hovered a hand over his bleeding forehead, missing bits of flesh being restored under the energy of her healing magic, casting a glow of light blue in the dimly lit room. "Ser….why did you do that?"

"I was unfair…I was unfair." His breath shook, and the emotions of rage and self-hatred was thick on every syllable. "I was blind….I was so blind….how could I….fuck….."

He was extremely deluded. He was so hung on to the continued belief that the Order of the Serpent will never be accepted despite his achievements that he never took the time to understand her motives. She was a victim, her mentality was scarred and warped from childhood trauma. The Taint on his person belonged to the evil men that was the Witch Cult. There was no explanation to how it's there, except it just arrived out of nowhere. She thought he was one of them. And his attitude towards her because of his misgivings made it all worse. She had every reason to hold her spite over him.

If only they have just talked—if only he have been patient to her, just as he had been before in Pandemonium, all this could have been avoided.

This world is not Pandemonium. It never knew his kind. The patterns of this world do not apply to what he's used to.

How could he forget that?

"How could you know….? How could you possibly know? The Order doesn't even exist here…..!"

"Ser Emurdol….?" Rem was at a loss, wondering why he was acting like this.

He grabbed his own face with his left hand, crumpling it, shaking under the pressure of his own grip, and slammed it down to the floor. If he had his voice, he would have screamed. A scream of defeat.

And he slumped, having lost all of his strength. He would have collapsed to the floor, but Rem held him up, pulling him to his feet and leading him to the bed so he could properly lie down. Instead of doing that, he kept himself seated, supporting himself with his hands behind him.

He took long breaths, as if to calm down. Rem rubbed his back, hoping to be of some help with it despite not knowing what's wrong, and she remained by his side until he became physically inaudible, turning his head to face her, revealing a bleeding left eye that was dimly glowing green under the shadow of his brow.

"I never spoken to you properly, Rem…I never took the time to know you better. I thought all this time you were just another idiot who would not even put aside her misgivings purely for the fact that I was a Necromagus…." His gaze went downwards, "...I was wrong….I should have been patient…because I didn't….all that bullshit happened. I am to blame…"

"N-no!" Rem quickly objected, "No! Rem was in the wrong! The fault is all mine….I should have trusted you…just like Rem should have back in that forest. You told me to go back to the village, and you had many chances to take my life….and you never did….you were only trying to help…."

"Tsk." Audibly, Emurdol clicked his tongue, shaking his head, his silver hair swishing in waves. "Then we're both idiots. Stupid, blind, mud-brained idiots. We didn't take the time to talk, to understand each other, and it blew up in our faces at the worst of times." There was no irony in that statement.

"No. Because Rem was so flawed and useless, the blame should be all on—"

"Shut up, Rem." She flinched from the force of the words alone, even if they merely happened inside her head. "You blame yourself. I blame myself. It's both our fault no matter how you see it. Settle to that if you are so adamant about taking the entire brunt of the sin."

Rem had no reply, biting her lip and looking down. Emurdol leaned slightly back, his upper body diagonally angled with his arms behind him to hold him up, his head hanging downwards and his white locks spilling over.

The pair sat on the edge of the bed quietly, taking in the silence as a moment to catch their breath and calm themselves down. Emurdol was beginning to entertain the thought of staying here, and it's proving to be a safer prospect more than anything. Whatever problem that ever existed since being in this world, it's right here within reach in the Mansion. He can deal with it whenever he can.

"Forgive me, Ser Emurdol."

Just when he was about to stand up and exchange peace with her, Rem suddenly bowed to him and apologized.

Without turning his head, his face still shrouded in the silver curtain, his skeletal hand moved to gently lift her chin up. "There is nothing to apologize for, Rem." There actually wasn't. The both of them were in the wrong, anyway. They have individually suffered for each of their errors, so it was fair. "So do not bow like that. It is wasted on me."

"It is not that…" She retorted softly, twiddling her fingers atop her lap, unable to meet where his eyes should be.

Emurdol turned his head to face her, straightening his posture and asked, "What's wrong? Hm? What's clouding your mind?"

"….remember when I said that Dear Sister was a powerful Demon before she lost her horn? Rem is a joke compared to her."

Behind the shade of silver, a scowl arrived on his face.

"Rem is powerless, talentless, and a reject of the Demon Race. That is why Rem can never match Dear Sister. So slow-footed compared to her that I could think of any way to catch up beyond running faster."

Rem covered her face with one hand.

"Dear Sister did everything better. She never blundered or wavered. She was always right about everything. If it had been her….she could have….."

She lowered her hand and faced him. She didn't cry, but resignation and self-loathing coated her orbs of light blue like a fog.

"Rem was always Dear Sister's substitute, always been inferior. Always. A good-for-nothing existence. Rem can never do anything better like she could."

Now, tears were welling up in her eyes, visible and sparkling under the slight glow of the Dragon's Eye peeking in the room through the window.

"Why is Rem the only one with a horn? Why did Dear Sister not keep her horn? Why was she born with only one horn? Why….why were we twins to begin with?"

And a tear rolled down her cheek. Emurdol kept his silence, listening to every word. She hastily wiped it off and regained her composure.

"I…I am sorry. Such strange things came out of my mouth…please forget them. I have never said such things to anyone before….."

Resting on his leather-covered lap of durable bone, his skeleton hand clenched tightly, creating cracking sounds in the stiff silence of the room. His other hand of living flesh moved to brush aside his locks, sweeping them back to let them hang over his shoulder blades, revealing his wrinkled features of pale white that resemble the dead.

His eyes regained their glow, and they expressed a light of admonishing disappointment.

"Rem."

"Yes?" She faced him again.

"I understand knowing one's limits….but why do you put yourself in the standards of someone you know you can't reach, and yet continue to abide by it?"

She blinked, and she looked down once again, slowly getting the words out, "Because….it's obvious. Because Rem can never be greater than Dear Sister."

"You didn't answer my question, Rem." He quickly told, his scowl becoming even more pronounced thanks to the creases on his face. "Why do you say you are worthless compared to your much incompetent sister?"

"N-no! You're wrong! Her true self is so much stronger! If you had seen it for yourself, you wouldn't have—"

"Stop. Just stop." A firm command resounded in her head, and Emurdol frowned even deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I believe you with no hint of doubt that Ram is the strongest Demon, but that was a time when she still had her horn. She doesn't have one anymore. Whoever she was that day, I don't know her any better than the secondhand information I receive and from my personal experience."

The facts are clear after all the days he's spent in this mansion interacting or looking at them from a distance. The hint of who was the better maid is clear to anyone with a pair of eyes.

"You attacked me when that scent you speak of got even worse on my person. You were the one to remain suspicious of me. You were the one who wore my patience down and forced me to leave. You made me go out of my way to sacrifice much of myself just for the sake of saving someone I hated...again."

The trend never ends. This habit of his is like a parasite, especially back in Pandemonium, and yet he never does anything to stop it. He wonders why and the answer never comes to him.

"I know. Rem knows that very well. Dear Sister would have done—"

"Be silent, I'm not done talking." He snapped, lightly smacking her forehead with the back of his skeletal fingers. She squeaked from the blow, rubbing it. Even if the force behind them is like a tap, it would still hurt in a vulnerable state of mind. "Ram is not responsible for all those things. You are. You made me go through hell. Your sister could barely hope to do so. You chased me down all the way to the village and aimed your hostility my way, Ram didn't. Do you understand what all that means?"

"N-no…not at all. Rem is always insufficient, that's why I can never—"

His skeletal finger poked her forehead, silencing her again, and he continued in that firm tone, "It means that was you, Rem. You did them not as a proxy of what Ram would have done, you did them of your own accord, as a person with a mind and freewill. Own up to the things you did. You did them as the Demon named Rem, the Little Sister of Ram."

He lowered his finger down, taking ahold of her shoulder very gently, and he peered deeply into her eyes.

"I did not run back to the forest and lose my throat to monsters just to save a skeleton who would act on the behalf of the one who made it. I put myself at risk to save Rem, the person I hated." He lowered his hand, "Accept that you are yourself, and Ram is nothing compared to you."

Rem was silent as she took in his words, and judging from the impression of conflict in her eyes, it was not easy to soak them into her mind.

"Stop caring if she has a horn or not. You're the only one who does. She already accepted herself the way she is, and I believe she wanted you to do the same. You are only wasting time and energy acting as her replacement. She has flaws and you have your own. And you made me do everything I can to save your life more than a few times."

"….Dear Sister wouldn't have done the same."

She's still comparing herself to someone else. It's so pitiful and pathetic it hurts to hear.

"Yes, she would not have. But you made the errors that led to all the suffering we went through. That makes it very clear you are not your sister or her substitute. You are just another living being that makes mistakes like everybody else."

He stood up from the bed, his stilted feet making light thuds on the carpet as he turned to face her and take both her hands into his own. And the ice in his voice softened significantly, carrying noticeable tinges of warmth.

"Because of your mistakes, I learned the error of my ways and changed my viewpoint for the better in this world." A shocked look crossed Rem's face as she looked up to meet his gaze that had softened from its sternness.

Yes. Because of Rem, he realized that he needed to separate himself from Mother for good. The toxin she carried with him ever since Pandemonium must be purged. It all led him to the realization that this world is not like his old one. He will be just another existence amongst the rest, unique and self-defined.

"If it weren't for you, I never would have saved those children from their curses and Meili from the horrid fate that awaited her."

"Rem…." There was hesitation in her voice, as if she could not accept such things from him, "…Rem has always been Dear Sister's replacement."

"You are no one's replacement and there is nothing you can do to change my mind. I value you exactly the same way I would to everyone I meet: just another mortal." Whether he noticed it himself or not, there was a slight curl of a smile on the edge of his lips. "Your Master once said to me that you cover for what Ram cannot do. That alone was the most promising thing I ever knew about you, a good thing. Abandon that toxic mindset of yours while continuing to do what a hornless Ram could not do. It's only right for sisters whose love for each other runs so deep that one would face the Shade for the sake of the other. Two Demons as One, as I and Mother once was. That's what being family is."

"….ah…"

"You cannot truly substitute for Ram, and no one can replace you as well, Rem. No one can. My people believed in self-identity, and knowing oneself is the obligation of every living being, human or not. It's time to look at what's in front of you. Act according to yourself, perform according to your own standards, and accept that it is all you can ever do. No one can match Ram. No one can match you, not even your sister. You are valuable to others, Rem. Do you realize just how she and your Master reacted when they thought you were gone forever because of what my Mother did?"

The significance of her life was enough to force that dumb idiot Viandegroc to bring the Shade out to the Living World and back when the repercussions blew up in his face.

He felt her stiffen when he asked that, "….still…"

"I have decided to stay in this mansion and support Emilia to the Seat of Power. And I don't want to see any skeletons walking around except my own. I intend to form bonds with everyone here, but I want to understand you more. I do not refer to the one that substitutes for Ram, because I can face your sister myself. I refer to Rem. The Rem who pushed me to the breaking point of my suffering. The same person I forgave and have wronged."

"…..."

"I do not know what will happen to us in the coming days, weeks, months and years, and I don't care. Whether you and I will hate each other again, become friends that can exchange trust and shake hands without the need of a prompt, or even fall in love with the other, I will accept any of it, so long as you have asserted yourself in those days as no one but Rem and Rem alone. That is all I ask for."

Rem held a conflicted look, tightening her grasp on his hands.

"Rem….is weak…and feeble. I might fall again, and you might end up having to come and save me again, and even lose another part of yourself. It might happen again and again, and you will lose so much more after that….."

"When that time comes, I will pull you up just as I have done so many times before. And once I do, I will make sure you will never fall again so you can stand by my or anyone's side from now on." He placed his skeleton hand on her shoulder and his living hand on her cheek. To his slight surprise, she didn't flinch from the cold of his flesh. "And until that day comes, stand side by side with the ones who depend on me and support each other. My daughter would love to have you in her life."

When one decides to take every burden onto their own shoulders, they lose sight of what they want most and become stranded in their path to life. He may not be one to say but he knows himself and his limits. The Order of the Serpent may live like everything depends on them despite being against the entire world, but they understand that even the little things they do carry the greatest significance that only the Dragon can understand, so it is up to the ones who will take their place to finish the job.

"It is presumptuous for my kind to say this but for all its worth, I am strong. I can deal with the troubles you and Meili will deliver. So, chin up, stand straight and look forward." He pulled her up to her feet and held both her shoulders, smiling freely. The warmest smile he had ever given to anyone besides his daughter. "I went to the mountain where the Demon Village once stood, the place of your and Ram's birth. Though they are not many, there have been a handful of Souls who remained in the Living Realm. And do you know what they thought of you the last time you visited them?"

She didn't ask, only awaiting him to continue with bated breath.

"They're proud of you. The little one they once thought to be a failure of the Clan has grown into an exceptional Demon that proved their misgivings wrong." She gasped at that, disbelief clouding her every expression. The eldritch voice in her head has grown a lot warmer than it was, so much that its horrifying quality became nonexistent.

"I have sent them to their rightful rest, and now, I look forward to the times that I find out why they are wrong about you. Whether sooner or later, I have all the time in the world to wait."

Under the glow of the Dragon's Eye, he watched with great scrutiny over the way her face began lightening. Brightening. Lifting. Into a smile. It was beautiful, the sight itself could overpower the light of the flames created by the Fire Golem.

"….Rem….Rem will make sure you will be surprised, Ser Emurdol."

He nodded.

She laughed, and amidst the laughter, her tears began to flow freely from the corner of her eyes. They don't seem to stop, endlessly pouring, but her laughter that seemed to have uplifted his spirit likewise didn't end.

He kissed the top of her head and hugged her close to his chest, feeling that the future ahead of him is going to be a lot brighter than he is used to, but he'll laugh at the face of it, because he will not hide his eyes from it ever again.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Strong sensations were breaking through the Emotion Suppression and rationality deduced that this was because of a genuine emotion of excitement, untainted by the influence of Souls, surfacing inside Meili's frozen heart. It was melting the ice encasing it.

She smelled the scent. The same one that's ever present whenever she's going through torture. The very same one that surrounded her entire body whenever she's being spoiled with sweet cuddles and kisses.

Contradicting her calculative mindset that's slowly eroding, her movements were jittery, fast-paced, moving in a language that implied that she was not having any patience left in her. Her nose sniffed the air incessantly, tracking down that scent the best she can, her bare feet moving in practical blurs she moved from one place to another, following the trail that had suddenly arrived out of nowhere.

Her Link told her that he's very close. Inside the building. He's somewhere in the second floor. She didn't spare any door she sees from being opened, taking no chances. He's got to be here somewhere, and she will never suffer another second without him by her side.

The Emotion Suppression is dying, barely little of it left, and her surfacing anxiety is spiking to absurd limits. Her stoic mien melted to that of desperation, olive green eyes glowing brightly like never before, casting a glow on whatever she was staring at and her breathing coming in and out sharply that the sound itself echoed out into the silent hallways of the night.

Then she saw a tall figure ahead, the sound of a clicking tongue inside the back of a throat echoing back to her location. Despite the evening's quiet atmosphere, no normal human would have been able to hear that. But Meili's hearing is above-average, and she could hear it like it was in front of her, amplified by this silence.

Before she realized, her bare feet were moving towards the source of the sound. At first a light walk, then it turned to a trot. Then it became a jog, and it immediately turned into a sprint, a speed so quick that she could outrun a Ground Dragon when her night vision allowed her to recognize the figure in front of her.

Tall. Scarred. Pale. Standing in stilted feet. Looking at her as if she was the most important thing in his life. There was no mistaking it. It is him.

The Emotion Suppression shattered apart, letting her true emotions run loose, and her voice finally had the freedom to let it out.

"PAPA!" Her shrill cry echoed throughout the entire 2nd floor.

Jumping straight into his open arms, smacking solidly against his chest that he had to take a couple steps back just to maintain his balance on his stilted feet, she wrapped her legs around his chest and her arms around his neck so tightly that it was highly possible that she could suffocate him with her surgically-improved body strength.

"An'k." That beautiful voice she missed so much uttered the nickname he had for her, literally meaning 'beloved child' in his home's native language, and she squeezed him even tighter in response. His arms wrapped themselves around her small form, reciprocating her affections by a thousandfold. "I missed you so much."

Meili said nothing, still trying to crush his entire upper body and neck, and red tears of elation flowed freely from her eyes. He was warm. He was passing his luscious mana to her. He was literally crushing her against his chest. These sensations of unique fatherly love made her realize just how much effort she expended in his mansion was all worth it.

The embrace was almost nigh-endless, lasting for practically a whole eternity before they parted only at the chest, numerous aches lingering on her body but she didn't care. His arms encircled around her rear to hold her up, her legs hanging on either side of his chest, she placed both hands on either side of his cheeks and she said in a whisper, "I missed you too, Papa."

And she kissed him squarely on the lips. Some families share this sort of intimacy, some don't, but the Order of the Serpent carry no bounds, and Meili took to their standards very quickly. Aside from the warmth and affection, she was also draining his mana from shared contact in one of the most sensitive places of the human body, tasting the extremely addicting and transcendently delicious energies that he always had ready inside his core. Aside from removing the aches on her back, it stimulated her mana pool, causing it to swirl rapidly like a violent twister, and they seeped out of her form when they can no longer be contained, causing the dimly lit area around them in the hallway to be illuminated in a ghostly glow of a light green.

20 seconds into the kiss, she parted their lips with a pop and bumped their heads together, the mana exhuming out of her body now halting, gazing deeply into each other's green-colored eyes that glowed brightly in love for the other, seeing into the beautiful emerald depths that existed in them.

Moments more pass in their embrace, and Meili finally decided to ask, "Did you talk to Blue Maidyyyy?

"I have."

"Did you two kiss and makeuuuuup?"

"We have forgiven each other. Her heart is healed and my spirit is lifted. I'm going to stay here with you from now on, Meili."

The news alone were enough to put a bright smile on Meili's face, going for another crushing hug again. "Yaaaay…." She exclaimed in a hissy whisper next to his ear, the euphoria making it too much for her mind to be in a jubilant mood. "Let's go to sleep together, Papaaaa. I haven't slept since laaaaast night."

"I'd love to." He set her down to the ground, his left hand interlocking fingers with her brown hand as he led her to forward, the glove stuffed inside her belt bag. This hand of hers could not feel the world or the living beings inhabiting it for all its worth. But her father existed in that void. She could feel every fabric of his being every time she touched any part of his flesh. It was a comforting solace that ever made her whole as a human born to a second life. "But there is something I'd like you to do first. Just for a moment."

"Okaay!" Arms swinging widely in-between them, they walked inwards to the dim hallway. For some reason, the hallway windows' curtains were drawn close, sending the passage into further darkness, leaving nothing to be seen for anyone without night vision.

Meili saw Uncle and Grandma standing on either side of the bathroom double doors, still as statues until they turned to face the father-daughter pair once they were as close as a meter. "It is nice to see you two together again…." Commented a feminine voice glazed in sweet honey.

It was actually Auntie Sally that's possessing the shell, Meili noticed, not Uncle. She couldn't see the pipe anywhere and it threw her off. "Hi, Auntiee."

"Hello, Sweetheart. It has been a while…." The kitty mask bobbed once in a greeting nod before she moved to open one side of the bathroom doors. "In you both go, and be careful not to destroy anything."

Her eyebrow quirked in question, wondering what's about to happen. Even her Link isn't telling her anything. Passing through the doorway and into the dressing room, the lamps turning on as they noticed their presence, she suddenly found a large ivory jug permeating the smell of the same bitter liquid that could heal injuries resting on the corner.

Their hands separated, her eyes fixated on the giant container that towered over her, she asked, "Papaaa…? What's going ooo…n?"

He already removed his vest, revealing his heavily-scarred body of pure white and is now removing his pants, revealing the complex machinery of bone and ivory that made up the entirety of his legs. Like an automaton's frame without covering, the internal parts within are visible through the gaps, especially around the knee joints, and his stilted feet morphed like clockwork, shifting neatly into a pair of three-toed feet that allowed stability on smooth surfaces.

"Woooow…"

"Mother's gift." He simply mentioned before he opened the door to the large bath. "Come on. You can either be with or without your clothes."

She looked down on herself, wearing the same black dress that she wore since yesterday before lifting her gaze up and following after him, still unsure what's going on. Her bare feet stepping on the dry tiles of the bath, creating a light tap in each step, she asked again, "Papa, why are we heeeere?"

Emurdol stepped down into the wide, empty tub, a loud clack of bone meeting solid tiles upon his landing before he stood at the center and faced her. With a resigned look on his face, the glow of his eyes becoming dull as they stared into space, and spreading his arms to the side, there was only a single command coursing through her head, emotionless and empty but carrying the slightest hint of resolve in each syllable. The meaning behind it is clear through her Link.

"You wanted this for so long, Meili. Now's the time for you to have it."

She gasped, her eyes widening.

With pride and love in his eyes, he submitted himself to his fate. In accordance to their Contract, his Life is now in her hands. "Release your restraints and have your way with me."

…..

…...

…...…...

She smiled. A smile so sweet that only a daughter that received nothing but unconditional and endless love from her father could ever evoke such a pure expression, and she never let it leave her face for as long as she was here with him.

Unstrapping her belt bag and throwing it as far as the wall close to the door, then pulling her dress over her head, leaving her white body bare to the air with only her undergarments protecting the last of her modesty, before she bundled it into a ball and discarded it as far away as possible.

Maintaining that very sweet smile, she stepped down into the empty pool, level with her father, and she raised her brown hand at neck level. It morphed, the skin molding like clay and the bones inside cracking in the process of being reshaped. Her fingers now reshaped, smooth and progressively thinning towards the digits ending in serrated talons, and her hand covered in barbs pointing forwards, she whispered a tiny little hiss that overflowed with all her burning feelings for him, echoing in the silent space of the bathroom.

"I love you, Papa."

A blur of movement and her hand pierced through his abdomen, through the tissue, through the muscles, through the gaps in-between his organs, and she got a hold of his spinal column. Blood sprayed onto her face and chest, and she did not blink nor did her smile falter even the slightest. The ecstasy overpowered her mind, and the cackling left her throat sore in the aftermath.

This night, she discovered that Meili Sinnuldel genuinely loves her Papa the most. Her feelings for him are not part of a persona or fabricated by the Souls in anyway, and she was more than happy to accept that aspect into her life.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Smirking, Roswaal closed the Gospel and hugged it close to his chest, reveling in the sensation of success and relief going through his chest. The fact that he could nearly hear the young girl's shrill cackles all the way to his study proves all the facts.

His future is secure, and his goal is still close at hand.

"Welcome back, Ser Emurdol."