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)

23. Dutiful

Emurdol had just finished his discussions with the Holy Knight and the Mace Man, managing to last all the way to the evening. It was a rocky start due to the yelling and the roaring but it didn't go too far beyond insults and death glares. All three had the common sense to acknowledge that there are bigger issues than conflicting principles.

He had discussed Zakurah's received offer of joining the Emilia Camp from Meili, and he's rather indifferent about it. If she joins, good, his faction's strength will be bolstered. If not, he'd spare himself from hearing any lectures about his methods being too far. However, in the present circumstances where his faction is in direct danger of the Witch Cult, he is never full of any help. Skeletons can be a great force to reckon with under the right hands but the powers of a Holy Knight is nothing to scoff at. There is a reason why there are the only ones trusted to kill a Priest of the Serpent.

Zakurah is given two days to think her decision over. By tomorrow, he will likely leave. She can either come with him or come the day after. He can discuss to Roswaal and Emilia about enlisting her when the time comes.

As for the Mace Man, he made the point clear that he is very grateful for his efforts to repel his daughter's pursuers, telling him to come by the Roswaal Mansion and visit sometime so they can talk like civil human beings. He also advised the boy on who those assailants are, his information taken from the Link he shared with Meili. Apparently, that Shinobi is a woman, belonging to the same Assassin Organization she once was part of, likely here to end her life as punishment for failing her job or simply finding her by coincidence. Whichever the case, her presence bodes ill for everyone. The clones he killed are just scouts, feeding the Original intelligence in each death, and she can keep creating them infinitely without getting tired. How is it possible and how many can be created? Not even Meili knows. The Organization members tend to keep to their own circles, and the Shinobi is the most isolated, leaving nobody but the leader knowing anything about her.

That got Raeburn to reconfigure his strategy, opting to stand back and simply keep an eye on their movements or keep their attention on him instead of Meili. When questioned if it's even worth it to risk his own life for someone else, the boy casually says that he can take it.

Surprisingly, the Souls are strongly supportive on his claims. If that's the case, Emurdol won't argue against it.

As they shook hands and parted, Emurdol promised to be kinder to him next time. If he's willing to go that far for his daughter, then it deserves positive reception.

As he was about to head back to his room and ruminate for the coming peril, he heard someone call his name from the top of the first floor stairs he was taking, "Ah, Emurdol Viandegroc. Good timing, would you kindly join me for a while?"

He raised his stare up and saw a pretty woman looking back at him, dressed in a nightgown of thin fabric that presented her feminine body very well with a small shawl around her shoulders as she held up a tray of wine glasses, an ice bucket and a bottle of brandy.

The dark green hair gave away the identity of the person, and he was quite surprised to see her outside her scrupulously-buttoned military uniform after 3 days of seeing her in just that. As always, his facial features betrayed none of his ruminations. "Madam Crusch, is that you?"

It was a stupid question. Of course it's her. The Souls around her are the same, but he let himself ask anyway.

"Yes it is, why do you ask?" Crusch raised an eyebrow, then quickly figured it out, looking down on herself. "I see. This is the first time you have seen in an outfit unrelated to my work, isn't it?"

"What brought the need to pretty yourself up with a tray of liquor in your hands?"

He didn't come off as flirting with his question, especially with the voice of the Void, and the Madam saw it that way, which he appreciated. He's not interested in small talk for the moment.

"To answer that, I shall return to the original question: do you have some time to yourself? I would like to have a drink with you this night."

On the other hand, that offer happened to be something he realized he actually needed.

It's not even 24 hours after his reconnaissance with the Souls from last night and he's already feeling the stress of worrying over somebody that's not even in sight nor in close distance. He barely has any plans yet, and even with Meili's knowledge of the Witch Cult, they are very minimum, leaving him with no ground to work on.

The Souls bear only ill news to him, nothing practical. Nothing but 'the Witch Cult will come' and the particular word called 'Sloth', which gives him no leads.

In other words, he needs a fucking drink.

"Lead the way."

Emurdol followed her to the balcony on the third floor, granting a wide view of the Noble District lit with thousands of illumination crystals on posts and walls outside the borders of the Karsten Mansion. An admittedly glamorous sight that happened to be practical. He'll give the damn nobles a chance just for that.

Taking a seat across Crusch from the white table at the corner of their destination, she mentioned, "The breeze is very refreshing tonight. It's the perfect weather, since I like to drink my liquor while watching the night sky."

"I appreciate the offer." He gave a grateful nod before turning his eyes to the view, "However, I fail to see why you didn't bother to invite one of your colleagues and instead chose an enemy?"

He won't sugarcoat the implications. This can be seen as a trap, to siphon information from a rival camp's members under the influence.

However, he doesn't think the Madam would be that petty. Aside from the Souls, he has a pretty good idea of the kind of person she is.

"Of course, normally I would have Felis with me. However, he must work late this evening, even if he has concluded his recent surgery on you."

"Hm." Emurdol silently hummed. Now that's admirable diligence from the demihuman boy. Surgery is a rather taxing endeavor, and to be able to continue his clinical work even after 6 hours of the operation is worthy of praise.

"Besides that, it's good to exchange drinks with someone of a different rank and position once in a while." She continued.

"Then let us see what you have with you."

He watched as she placed ice cubes on one wine glass before filling the other one and pouring the amber-colored liquor. He took his glass, she took hers, and they let the glasses touch, a light clink filling the windy silence aside from the shifting ice.

As they both took a drink, Emurdol immediately set his glass down, betraying no distaste. "Terrible, as always with you nobles."

Rather than taking offense, the Madam smiled mildly, "You must be very particular with your tastes if even my choice selection doesn't satisfy you."

"I prioritize the taste, regardless of age or quality." As he hovered his skeleton hand over his wine glass, he poured a tiny bit of Fire Soul into the pint before the flask disappeared from his grasp and back into the Void. He looped his ring finger around the stem, other bony fingers stretched out, he brought the rim to his lips and took a drink.

Much better.

"It seems you are anxious about a number of things, but please be at ease." She assured him, having noticed the implications of his slightly stiff body language. "I have not brought you here with the intention of interrogating you. I swear it is nothing that petty."

"That's not my concern."

"There is no need to conceal it. I can see the anxiety and doubt in the night breeze around you. Being of rival camps we are, it actually brings me relief to see your wariness. That way, I do not forget my own principles."

He huffed lightly, taking a light swig with her while replying, "Even if it were otherwise, you are the last thing I'm worried about."

He returned to the view, and he can make out the form of a cloaked woman with flowing red hair arriving from the gate. Judging by the indicative body language, she had nothing relevant to report. It seems Meili is safe for today. Tomorrow won't grant them that safety for long, however.

"How fares your recovery from the surgery? Are you finally able to speak?"

The question brought back the memory of his most-recent consummation with his love, and his emotionless face cracked, his lips pursing and the light in his eyes softening. To demonstrate the success, he spoke verbally with a rather sincere tone, "I commend Felix's skill. He is worthy of his title."

"Hmm." Crusch hummed pleasantly, "Felis should have been here to hear that, though I should say it is to be expected. He is the greatest Healer of the Kingdom. It is my great fortune to earn his loyalty."

He marveled at the raw sincerity of her words. Compared to most people that would say such things superficially, hers is explicit and honest, sparing no worthy praise for her retainer. The latter should be honored to have such a noble master.

He smelled the wine in his glass for a moment, then moved it slightly back to take in the air. He exhaled, "With all these steel and weapons you are hauling, I might suffocate from it the next day if I don't depart soon."

"Oh?" The Madam turned an interesting eye at him, "How have you known the contents of the cargo being brought here? Though, that would be a silly question. I do think that is how rival camps should be, however."

"It isn't that way." He pointed out, motionless except for his mouth. "It is hard to ignore what's practically filling the air and blocking all other scents."

"You can smell them?" Crusch asked with slight awe.

"So did my daughter. She is steadily losing sleep because of it." Though lovemaking with her favorite maid had a way to make her occupied from it, especially with the smell of sweat, hormones and delicious mana in the air.

She chuckled, "It seems I have failed to consider your species as something not human, even though it was said by Margrave Mathers a few days ago."

He became mobile, moving his glass to his lips but not drinking from it. "It leaves certain implications to mind as well, especially with the presence of men coming and going with very particular body languages, ones that have seen combat or training. It's almost as if you're preparing for conflict. And so soon after the Ceremony."

If he's not going to worry about the Shinobi for now, he might as well gather some intelligence from her, even if minor.

"Sharper than I expected, you are." Her good mood didn't seem to be waning despite confirming it. "Indeed. My house is currently assembling all the men and material possible for a particular event in the future, and indeed, it is preparation for conflict. What, of sorts? I'll leave you to speculate. It may cause you and Rem some trouble in the coming days."

So not warfare against a rival camp. He can tell from the Souls around her. The air of sorts around them do not imply a simple conflict between men and politics.

There are inferences he can gather but they are too outlandish to be considered a good conclusion, so he held himself from thinking too far about it.

He took a drink and crushed a block of ice with his teeth, chewing on it and relishing the grinding sound filling the air. "How is Wilhelm? Meili did not go too far with her claws on him, did she?" As far as he knew, she is not one to show mercy, even around training.

He was the one who brought that influence on her, after all. He made sure she gets hurt when he trained her.

"Rest assured, he is well and alright. Despite how he looks, he is a veteran soldier with decades of warfare and experience in his name. Your daughter's viciousness is something he can handle."

Meili's level has reached enough to the point that she can effectively kill many platoons of soldiers by herself. Even if she restrained herself like she did with Wilhelm, it would take the most experienced fighter to last a long time against her.

If the old gentleman could handle her, then Wilhelm will be someone to regard with caution in the future. Who knows what else could the senior have in terms of combat ability. Even if the Souls tell him, they are never clear with scale. That's why being paranoid tended to help.

How about the Madam? "Meili has been considering challenging you as well, Madam Crusch, knowing you can hold a sword yourself, and she could care less about the implications or rumors formed from it. But she did not, for it would interfere with your work."

"Hmm." Humming, she replied to him, her mood unchanging. "If I had known that sooner, I would have gladly entertained her. I allow myself some free time in the afternoon to train my swordsmanship with Wilhelm as my instructor. I might reconsider tomorrow and have her as my partner instead."

"If you allow it, then kindly do not begin without me. I would love to spectate how it might go." Good opportunity to gather the level of strength she might have as an entity with combat prowess. The Souls tend to be very chatty when they are in the moment with the person they are hovering around, and conflict exhilarates them. "If I am allowed to know, what had been the biggest conflict you've ever partaken in?"

It wouldn't harm to ask such a thing from her. He knows very well that she's popular with the public. If that was the case, her exploits might also be well-known.

"If I must tell you….it would be the time I had my first sortie, when I have driven off a horde of witchbeasts that have attacked the Karsten Domain." She took a light swig of her wine, her eyes looking back at the past pensively, "It is a rather embarrassing endeavor for me."

His head leaned to the side, as if he was listening to a whisper, and the Souls projected him images and stories of that exploit. Apparently, that event was the time her popularity grew, and it didn't stop from there.

"The people think otherwise." He moved to refill his glass. "They carry only praise in regards to you and your endeavors."

"You seem to not know the circumstances of that event. Allow me to enlighten you." She had a rather particular pout on her face. It looked incredibly uncharacteristic of her. "The people have praise to it but to me, I would not share the sentiment. I was a rather gangly princess at the time, hastily and impudently taking command in place of her injured father."

The Souls say it was a success.

He pointed it out, "It was a successful sortie, isn't it? It should be praiseworthy, especially if it was the first time you took command."

"Indeed. But the extent of the results were the problem. My naïveté at the time is a shame most difficult to bear."

And she takes no pride over the opinion of the people had of her. Instead, she's solely focused on how humiliating the time was, deeming it as far more forefront to herself than the picture it made.

To see things in such a perspective is considered one of the things he can truly appreciate about Above-Worlders like her. His tremendous amounts of respect for this woman is not unfounded.

She's a sincere and honest woman. Her line of thinking is simple that it almost feels like the word 'integrity' is inscribed into her Soul since birth.

She looked at him jovially. "You're quite the man to needle me at my most humiliating past times, Emurdol Viandegroc. As expected of a political rival, I suppose? Could your daughter's request to spar with me an attempt for you to recognize how I fight?"

He lightly chuckled, pouring a drop of Fire Soul into his wine before putting the flask away and taking the glass to his lips, "I won't deny the latter. Pragmatism is my kind's virtue, and it's a bad habit of mine. I keep my eye on my foes….and allies, Emilia included. We do have the tendency look at the people of the surface with disdain."

"Even to your own Master? Are you implying you do not trust her?" The Madam asked in jest.

"She still has many ways to go. I may have said I will pledge to her my protection, but she must earned the right to it. I may be her friend but I am still a Priest of the Serpent, and the loyalty of one is not freely given." He took a drink from his wine.

He can only hope that she can keep up. He said it before: someone like her has no business to be in the Royal Selection. She needs the mental capacity to match. He won't confront her childishness, but her internal conflicts are something he cannot abide. If anything, they weigh her down. Additionally, she still hasn't taken the first step in taking the brunt of injustice coming her way with dignity. She's more inclined to turn away from it instead of looking ahead.

She needs to be stronger than that. Strong enough to face the inevitable with determination and hope, knowing that she can make it through with the allies beside her.

He'll make sure of it.

Emurdol himself has already went past that stage. He learned the value of companionship, and it has stuck to him this day.

It was damning to know that it took the life of the only person he ever cared about aside from Mother to die in order for him to realize it. Emilia herself does not need to go through the same thing. If it happens, who knows what he'll do when everything is starting to look familiar.

"By the way, I have been receiving a rising number of proposals since word of the Royal Selection has spread. Though, such talk comes with the territory of being a duchess to begin with."

"Ha." He scoffed mockingly, and he didn't hide the distaste on his face. "As if the ones proposing actually care about you. Stupid."

"Oh?" Crusch eyed him with interest, "Then tell me. What is marriage to you?"

He sat a little straighter, firmly staring at her sharp gaze, "A sacred union between partners that have pledged to surrender their lives to the other and treasure it for the rest of their lifetime even when death do them part. My union to Rem is one such bond. She's precious to me, and I hers. Meili too. Even if she has nothing and laid at the streets, I will accept her. Even if she is stood at the highest point of this Kingdom with all privileges in her grasp, I will pursue her. Solely because I love her."

He paused, taking a large swig of his wine before he set it down on the table. "And you morons with your practices of loveless marriages solely for material gain out of the other is an act of bastardry."

And then, Crusch laughed. "Ha-ha-ha! Strong opinions you have, though I can't say I do not sympathize it. People are too conscious about differences in rank to be honest with their own hearts. Even if a serf and a noble loved each other, their union cannot be possible without tarnishing the latter's family image."

He scowled, "You are idiots. All of you." He didn't bother hiding his vitriol, and he couldn't care less if he's being very clear about putting Crusch in the same category, but the Madam merely smiled at it.

"I should let you know that aside from myself, all the other candidates are single women. So marriage proposals coming their way as well won't be surprising. Though, I suppose matters differ in regards to Priscilla Barielle, who is a widow."

He was very glad he put down his wine glass. He would have crushed it in his skeleton hand. Any man who'd make proposals to Emilia are immediately considered liars. They will exist solely to take advantage of her. He's sure of it. This world is already violent in its opinion towards silver-haired half-elves, whose devil counterpart's name can easily send people to terror. How can Emurdol even think about anyone caring about Emilia the same way he and his family does?

Damn the benefits. Damn the notions. He will never allow anyone to have Emilia's hand.

"Forgive me, Emurdol Viandegroc, it seems I have been somewhat mean to you in retaliation for making me recall my past shame."

Emotion Suppression.

"Rest-assured, Emurdol Viandegroc. The candidates are forbidden to marry during the Royal Selection Period. Nominally, it is because one should put the Kingdom before the self first, but in reality, it is more of a desperate measure to prevent marriage ties from exacerbating political conflict."

"Hmph." He placidly took his wine back to his hand and drank the last of it. "On the other hand, you only made me aware of possible worst-case scenarios. I should be thankful."

"Well, that's quite a milder response than I expected." The Madam was genuinely surprised at his response, "For a second, aggravation bellowed from you like wildfire. And now, it's just emptiness."

"I am angry." He took the brandy bottle to refill his glass and added some more ice. This time, he didn't bother to put Fire Soul in it. "I am simply trained to close off my heart and blot out all emotions. My profession demands it of me, lest I lose what I am."

He relaxed on his seat, resting his left elbow on the balcony fence and lying his cheek on his fist, staring blankly into space. Internally, he continued to damn the world. On the brighter side, he had his attention focused on something very minor, like the stupidity of humankind. He's far too occupied in thinking about how to counter things coming Emilia's way without any feasible way of achieving it.

He'll end up affecting Meili's mental state if he keeps it up.

"Emurdol Viandegroc."

He blinked, and he noted the still atmosphere. He turned his eyes to Crusch, and she slightly leaned forward, keen on asking something. He addressed it, "You have a question."

She nodded, "I have noticed it for as long as you have been my guest. I've held my tongue considering I know nothing about it, but after a few days, my curiosity is getting the better of me, compelling me to know. Therefore, I shall ask while I still have the chance."

Thanks to this atmosphere and the delicate way it was proceeding, he can already tell what she's going to ask. She isn't the first one to address it the same way, "Go on."

"The winds around you are….peculiar. Sometimes, your emotions pour out at times. Some other times, a plethora of them flows out of you like snakes escaping from a sack. They either share one emotion or are completely mixed. They circle around you, including your daughter. Normal people only have one wind. The two of you don't. Why is that?"

There were many connotations about wind, and it is linked solely to emotions. These things clued Emurdol about something, but he must confirm.

"How are you able to see them? Aside from my family, not even Roswaal could see them. But how is it that you can?"

"If it will yield me your answer, then I shall freely tell you." She nodded, a rather solemn air taking her for a moment before it disappeared. "I bear the Blessing of Wind Reading. It allows me to see the wind that flows from others, whether they be emotions, or lies."

There it is. He was right again.

Now to pay back her courtesy, "As a Priest of the Serpent, the Souls of the Dead can speak to me and come to me, seeking satisfaction."

She blinked. "Souls."

He licked his lips, taking his glass to his lips, "Many Souls depart, but some would linger for a while longer before joining the Afterlife. Some, however, would remain locked in the Living World for eternity. The reasons vary." He paused to take a drink. "They either have lingering lamentations….or their emotions are too strongly tied to something or someone in the Living World. In special cases, some Souls are simply trapped, demanding release."

With a flourish, he waved his wine glass above his head in a straight line, and the Afterlife opened up. There was a sound. It was like a howl and an exhale mixed together, brief but loud, as if it was the final breath of a dying person as death claims his life. The air had suddenly got chillier as well, warm breaths turning into mist. The moaning Dead let their voices be heard through the new opening, incoherent and demanding, but it was only brief, lasting for as long as 2 seconds. Just as he wanted it. So the rift immediately closed.

As he set his wine glass down, he purposely let it make a loud thud, just so the sudden arrival of sound snaps spectators out of their terrified trance, just like Emilia and the rest during his first day on the mansion did, as did many others in Pandemonium.

Impressively, Crusch held up her composure like a master. She was indeed alarmed but she certainly didn't show a single sign of fear, and her breathing is still even. A magnificent feat. If he was to recall, no one has ever managed anything like this.

This woman will certainly be a formidable foe as a rival candidate.

"As a Priest of the Serpent, it is within my right and authority to emancipate and enslave who I please." He gestured around him, indicating the quiet balcony but clearly referring to the Souls that were once visible in the vicinity for only 3 seconds. "And our company are here of their own will, and I have no interest in freeing them nor enlisting them."

A silence passed on the two of them, the only sound present being Crusch's breathing and the flowing wind that blew silver and dark green locks.

In time, Crusch mentioned, "So you free….and capture the Souls of those who died….."

"I know what you're thinking, Crusch. And you're wrong."

He's pretty much reading a script at this point. Still, this was the first time he's explaining himself outside the Emilia Camp. He should at least make the effort to be more elaborate. "I beckon to the Afterlife, and volunteers answer my call. I enslave no will unless I have to. If I have, they would come out as Wraiths."

"Wraiths, you say."

"Remember those white screaming skulls in the Chambers during my stunt." For the most part, the Souls he enslaved were petty criminals who died too young. Easily manipulated. "Controlling them is not unlike handling a wild animal. You hold on tight to their reigns and assert your dominance, or they will kill you too."

"I see." Crusch replied nonchalantly, crossing her arms and strangely holding him in the same light she always did. Neutral. "If you can do that much, would it be possible for you to raise the dead?"

Before he could think about how this came off as an interrogation despite what she said earlier, he took note the way she asked the question. It's almost as if….

"You ask that as if it isn't the first time you've seen it in practice."

The Souls immediately affirmed it.

The Madam exhaled, almost exhaustingly. She reached for her wine and drank from it. Once she drained it to the bottom, she replied to him, "Indeed. It isn't."

Then his green orbs flashed maliciously before he closed his eyes, concealing the window exposing his fury. So there are Necromancers in this world. Here or Pandemonium, there will always be blasphemers.

Emotion Suppression.

He opened his eyes, a dim light glowing from them, and he asked, his tone now monotonous, "What magic has been used to achieve such a feat?"

She blinked slowly, "Nothing like yours. They say it came from forbidden magic that once belonged to a Witch. Does that sound familiar to you?"

He slowly shook his head, keeping his face from scowling. He kept himself composed, making sure he kept his priorities straight. He has a family now. He is not bound by his obligations to hunt those scum anymore. "And the person responsible is dead?"

"What relevance would it bring if I were to answer you?"

"It either means I don't have to worry about a poser running amok on the world…..or someone must answer for their blasphemy."

Her answer doesn't matter at this point. The Souls already confirmed his suspicion for him. By the standards of idiots, no one would allow such a person to walk freely. This necromancer is already dead and brought low. With the existence of Reinhardt the Sword Saint, it's a safe assumption.

A grimace formed on Crusch's features, and she leaned forward, her tone shifting lowly, "Would you like to know….about the time I have faced the walking dead?"

Emurdol stared.

"AAAAAH! Why is Emewdul here with mew, meow!?"

Having sensed his presence before that grating screech came out, he patiently waited for those running footsteps to reach the table and he quickly held his wine glass down when Felix's hand slammed on the surface, shaking the liquor bottles and the ice bucket.

Crusch barely noticed the ruckus and nodded to her retainer, "Thank you for your hard work, Felis. I'm sorry, I thought you would be back much later so I had a drink with Emurdol Viandegroc as an appetizer."

Emurdol turned a flat glare at her, "Don't you dare call me an appetizer." He wanted to sound a little threatening but the voice of the Void was so deadpanned he even surprised himself for how inferior it was.

"Goodness, Feli can't leave you alone for one second, meow!" Then the demihuman noticed the amount of liquor gone from the bottle, "Eek! You had more wine than usual, didn't you, Lady Crusch!?"

"It is true I've enjoyed more wine than usual. He is a rare conversation partner, and the most interesting one I've met yet. Our topics leapt from trivial to grim. Some of it even embarrassing."

Whether the Madam realizes what she's saying, Emurdol took pleasure anyway when it got a rise on Felix. A sick grin is threatening to make it to his lips.

"Grrrr! What is this!? And you, Emewdul! Why the hell are mew drinking alcohol after a surgery!?"

Very calmly, without looking at him, Emurdol replied to him, "Madam Crusch offered it to me, and I do not have the same limitations as these humans. I have already reached my peak condition hours ago."

"And Lady Crusch! You're wearing such a vulnerable outfit!"

Crusch looked down on herself and looked back up to him, confused, "Is it that strange? It's hardly any different when I have drinks with you, Felix."

"That! Is! The! Problem! Mew can't compare your time with Feli to a ravenous beast of a man like this! Men are wolves, meow!"

"Look down on yourself and realize where you stand, wolf." Emurdol pointed out derisively. "Though, I find that a bit ironic, considering you are a cat demihuman."

"That's because Feli would never cast a lascivious gaze upon Lady Crusch but the way Emewdul looks this way and that, he cannot be trusted, meow."

"How wise of you." Emurdol is now in a mood to get a rise on him, not liking how this indirectly referenced the usual treatment his kind would get from idiots like him. "I always check the quality of meat. And female meat is malleable."

He felt an icy glare on him, and Emurdol turned his eyes without moving his head to meet those slit-pupils. Amazingly, the impression turned the effeminate boy into a rather vicious predator, especially with the characteristic angle of those feline ears. "Oooh, you just made yourself an enemy, Emewdul!"

"That is enough, Felis." Calmly, the Madam put a stop to it. "I have been given further proof of where Emurdol Viandegroc's heart lies. You should know too. He would not set his sights upon a woman as lacking of charm as myself compared to his beloved."

It would be farfetched to say he is not interested in Crusch for her person of integrity and honor, but she did indeed lack in the charm that sparks his heart to a full conflagration. Rem was the one that captured his heart, and that will never change.

He took his glass in his left hand and brought it to his lips, "I would not, indeed."

Felis instantly cut in, "Haaaah? What? You're disappointed with Lady Crusch in some way…? Do you want Feli to kill mew?"

Emurdol closed his skeleton fist, aimed the back of it to Felix's direction, and raised one finger to point at the balcony ceiling, the middle one, and his other hand nonchalantly angled his glass as he took slow and gentle sips of this shitty brandy. The demihuman can interpret that in two ways. He either backs the fuck off, or he should try his luck and see what happens when he inflicts harm on a Necromagus.

Then he was compelled to look to the side. Looking past Felix, he saw Meili coming over from the door, wearing her black sundress and leggings. She would have been mistaken for an undead child in Pandemonium with her insanely white skin shining under the moonlight, barely perceivable lips, and eyes glowing brightly like a lamp under the shadows of her hair, if she didn't have a large fluffy pillow clutched to her side. Interestingly, her hair is wet.

She must have taken a bath beforehand.

"Agh!" Bumping Felix aside with a swing of her hips as she approached him, Meili placed the big pillow on his lap and he lifted her up till she sat on it like a cushion, both her legs facing the balcony fence while her back is supported by his right hand, her head resting against his chest.

She took the glass from his hand and took a small sip from it. Immediately, her face grouched. "Yech."

He took the glass out of her hand immediately, drinking the last of it and crunching the ice.

A derisive remark arrived, "Now that's just irresponsible, letting your kids drink alcohol, Emewdul."

He's not going to bother with an argument, "At least it'll make her sleep quickly." He replied, putting down the glass and pouring some water on it.

Giving the refilled glass to her brown hand and drank from it, she whispered to him, barely audible under the whoosh of the wind, but he heard it, anyway, "Grandma's talking to Rem."

He paused in the motion of putting down his glass, then continued moving and set it down. Afterwards, he held her brown hand and played with her fingers, pinching the tips and tickling her palm.

Now that's an interesting development to hear. He didn't think Mother would mature herself since being deprived of her freewill to influence the world. The others must be responsible for that. They did say they were rehabilitating her, something he thought impossible. It seems he was wrong.

From the Link, the exchange between his love and Mother is overlooked by some of the others. Good. They must be discussing things with her now that she is pledged to him, like conditions and warnings and such. They better not overwhelm her. He'll give her everything, the only thing he'll ask from her is her own love to him.

He looked down on Meili, and he noticed the slight crease forming on her forehead. He interlocked fingers, passing a steady flow of mana in their shared grasp. "Are you stressed?" He asked.

She nodded lightly, shaking his chest.

He lightly sneered. Looks like even making love to her favorite maid isn't enough to keep her mind off her current predicament. "We'll leave tomorrow. I promise."

She nodded.

He parted their interlocked grip, and she held on to his wrist as he moved to part his robes from the collar all the way to the middle of his chest, revealing his dead-pale skin and a bit of his ribcage. Then he had her hand lay its grasp there.

In reflex, her fingernails stretched out into sharp curvy points and dug into his flesh, making sure it stuck there and doesn't slip off, just so she can feel something in the void of her right hand while she sleeps.

With his left hand free, he moved to trace a circle around her wet ear and silenced all human voices from entering her sensory with a curse. That way, even a yelling would not wake her up while she enjoys the sound of the wind and the rattling of the ice on wine glasses.

With that done, he moved to pepper her face with light nips and kisses while his thumb traced her temple all the way to her jawline, passing her mana while he did, making sure she falls asleep quickly and get her to stop thinking about what's going on. If she does, it'll override his thoughts too.

Normally, at her age, her Link to him should have been thinned by now with the Blood Trial. She's made leaps and bounds in regards to her growth as a Wyrmm, and now they are at a standstill. All this Royal Selection nonsense is lagging her progression.

He knew what would come from this bullshit, but to this extent where deadly forces are on the move against his side specifically….he didn't think it'd be worse than he thought.

He held himself from growling over it and focused on loving his daughter instead, nibbling the skin on her forehead and passing mana to her brain. Her little pleased groan gave him comfort.

He shouldn't think about it. He mustn't. He can worry about it later. Right now, his daughter is demanding his attention. His worries should be on her.

"May I ask something, Emurdol Viandegroc?"

He took a few wet locks of silver hair and put it in-between his lips, letting the mana course through in the way she liked. Through her brain and down the neck, across every nerve in her body. She shivered lightly in his grasp.

He drew back and released her hair, lightly pinching her little nose before turning to Crusch. "Go ahead."

The Madam pointed at the brown hand digging into his chest, "Is that…normal for your kind?"

He held her little hand, stroking his thumb across her knuckles. "For us, it is. Do not be concerned. I'm not even bleeding."

"Doesn't seem to be doing mew favors, meow." Felix pointed out, looking at his visible scars and recalling the ones hidden underneath the robes he saw during surgery.

"Hold a child you love and you will understand." He pointedly stared at the demihuman, "Take yourselves, for example. I already know you would do anything for your Lady Crusch, Felix, and you would accept any pain even if she was the cause of it, so long as it's for her."

"For once, I agree." Then he turned to the Madam with a dreamy smile, "I'd smile even if Lady Crusch were to start hitting me~! I'd be ecstatic, meow!"

"Please, Felis, I would never dare raise my hand on you. You are precious to me as a retainer and as a companion. Even if you were to hold a dagger and ready run me through, I would never question your loyalty nor your personality."

"Aah~! Such meowgical words~ Feli's gonna melt~!"

"Hmph." Emurdol turned to his daughter, running a finger down the middle of her forehead to her nose. "Then you two do understand."

"Can't say the same about your relationship with Lady Emilia." Felix bluntly pointed out.

He merely sighed, "Indeed not. My passion is inferior compared to yours when it comes to her." He kept himself from thinking about being forced to choose between his family and that girl. It will never come to that. "Even so, her honor will not be tarnished in my presence." He held up his left hand before his face and watched as necromantic energies swirled around it, taken from the environment and processed in his core before manifesting again. "I saw a part of myself in her when she was blasphemed in the chambers, and I will not live to see my past repeat itself through her."

He waved the energies close to Meili's face and traced three fingers across her forehead down to her chin, passing over her eyes, nose and lips, his delectable mana reflexively sucked in by her and her neck instantly relaxed from its stiffness.

She fell asleep.

Flicking out the residue, he held her cheek and pulled her close, planting a long kiss on her forehead before adjusting her position so she can rest her head on his shoulder. Once she was perfectly comfortable, he took her free left hand and interlocked fingers, never letting go.

"My people were once in the same position as her, and I pioneered the change of perception for the better." He turned his eyes to the view of the Noble's District, glaring at the unseen future. "I will see that Emilia achieves the same thing as she pursues for her goals."

In the corner of his vision, he saw Crusch nod to him, almost respectfully. The Souls around her are having the same impression of admiration.

For the rest of the night, they enjoyed small talk and an exchange of stories. When all was silent, the incoming storm was quick to come back to his mind. He was glad Meili was asleep to notice it.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

As Mother moved her metal hand away and took the wand off Rem's grasp, the maid immediately shot awake while hyperventilating, sat up and hunched over, suddenly noticing that she had been deprived of breath for more than a whole minute. She barely noticed the tears running down her cheeks until she felt her face being wet and looked at her finger as she touched it.

She looked around the room she's in, barely illuminated by the green light glowing from Mother's wand, the latter seated next to the bed on a chair, motionless as a statue. She found a voluptuous figure approaching her from the door, naked and swaying her hips, bloody red hair trailing behind her, and she quickly knew the woman as Sally.

She held out a towel to Rem, "Here."

"T-thank you." Rem's voice was so small and cracked, almost pathetic. She swiped the towel out of Gluttony's hand and wiped her face vigorously before stopping.

She didn't put down the towel from her face.

"Lady Selena….." Rem called for Gluttony's name, her voice low and muffled, "….what must I do…?"

Sally's face was in stasis, hiding the true emotion that struck Gluttony once it is asked. Her response betrayed none of it either. "Hold on to your faith and do what you think is right." She turned around and headed towards the door. As she held the knob, she left her a reminder. "The others have been doing their part. What you are doing is more than we could have accomplished."

Rem listened to the sound of the knob turning, the door opening and hair sliding across the floors before it closed. Afterwards, she sobbed on the towel, her shoulder hitching, trembling in the bed. Even with such heavy assurances from the most emotionally-calculating entities in the world, she was still incapable of accepting it.

When both her beloveds arrived later in the night and lied down on the bed, she was so lucky to have managed to hold her tears in when she held his hand resting atop Meili's belly.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Morning came, and the family have already prepared to leave.

This departure had already reached the Madam's notice during Emurdol's shared drink with her the recent night. The suspicions of troubling movement in the Mathers Domain happened to be foreseen by her as well when he told her about it, and that gave him further incentive to leave. The decision was respected, having a ground dragon and carriage already prepared first thing in the morning, met with little resistance except a warning of prematurely ending the contract between her and Emilia aside from fully verifying themselves as enemies the sooner they depart. The warning had no relevance whatsoever. They were already enemies.

The Ground Dragon given was fit enough for the 6-hour trip back but the carriage is far too small for a group of 5, the bigger ones already occupied for other tasks under Crusch's instruction, but it was better than nothing.

Parked at the gate, the family were sorting themselves for the final time and saying their farewells, with the lone member of the Karsten Camp being Wilhelm there to send them off.

Meili's hooded head poked out the carriage window, having recently looked over their luggage and asked, "Are you sure this is everythiiiing, Remi?"

"Yes, Meili. Rem has triple-checked before we departed." Rem turned to the Ground Dragon, asserting her dominance over the creature so it can easily obey her commands.

Concluding the courtesies of thanks and appreciation, wrists were grasped, one of black metal and the other of fine white cloth, and they shook, finding newfound caution and respect. Emurdol and Wilhelm locked gazes, seeing the Might and Power the other has, and they submitted to the inevitable of facing each other in combat someday.

"I'll see you again, Sword Master."

"May you be well by then, Dead Master."

Parting, they nodded to each other and Emurdol turned around, his cloak flaring in the movement and his donned armor slightly rustling against the bone cuirass surrounding it as he seemed to be gliding towards the carriage.

As the carriage shifted to accommodate his presence, Viandegroc closed the door and latched on to the roof railing with one hand, prepared to hang on to the side for the rest of the journey like Mother on the opposite side.

Nodding, Rem turned her gaze to the road ahead of her and cracked the reins, the dragon letting out a guttural neigh, beginning with a slow running start, then an immediate burst of speed. Meili poked her hooded head out the door window again, with Viandegroc moving his hip aside to grant her a full view of the Mansion behind them.

The child said no goodbye, having already given it to Wilhelm beforehand along with a kiss to the cheek, so she simply waved him farewell. The old gentleman, her now-former playmate, was becoming smaller as the distance grew while he maintained a bow, and eventually, he was no longer in sight.

"We are now back on our own, Niece." Viandegroc remarked right after, the Ground Dragon's Divine Blessing keeping his cloak and hair from flying sporadically behind him.

"Yeeaah." Meili quickly put her head back inside, making sure she didn't let herself be seen by the Shinobi, even with the cloak concealing her face and hair. "I have feeling that things are gonna go wroooong."

"Good. Maintain that thought until we are truly safe."

The wyrmm didn't find that comforting. The dread took over her mind very quickly, now expecting to be ambushed at some point on the highway, likely by an entire army of clones. The added sense of urgency due to the possibility of Earlham Village being attacked only added to her stress. Her right hand clenched into a fist, her brow sweating and her green eyes flaring in her internal panic.

What can she do? What is she supposed to do? The Shinobi could be tailing them right now, waiting for the moment to strike when there are no witnesses. Or maybe the Original has already reached Earlham Village, having already set up traps on the road, waiting of the carriage they're riding on to spring it. They'll kill Rem first, in virtue of being a witness. She'll never see it coming. The Shinobi is a master of surprise attacks. What if she lets down her guard and her family suffers dearly for it? What if she—

Then an arm pulled her close to her Papa's side, a kiss given to her head and a set of soothing words crossing her ears. "I'll protect us, Meili. Do not fear the unknown. Let them fear you. Lay your faith in me, and no monster will ever dare lay a single claw on you."

And just like that, her worries are washed away. Meili's Link to him allowed her to feel the same confidence he felt compared to her.

That's right. She doesn't need to worry. She's protected by the strongest and fiercest person she ever knew in this Second Life. Hell, she's even protected by his creations just yesterday, her newfound friends from Beyond the Waterfall alongside them, and none of them even died. They succeeded against the Shinobi. The latter may adapt to the enemy, but so can Uncle and Grandma. Her Papa's an even worse offender, a firm adherer to pragmatism.

She can do this. Her name is Meili Sinnuldel, and Meili Portroute can never hold a candle to what she has become today because of her Papa. She's stronger now. The Dead are hers to command, and no foe of hers and her family will leave unscathed. She trained in the Crusch's villa for a reason, and any monster in her way will know her wrath.

She leaned to him, her gloved hand moving to grasp his metal fingers, smiling as if she was the happiest girl in the word, "Thank you, Papa." And she looped a free arm around his neck, pulling him close for a kiss.

She relished in the intimacy for a few seconds. Before she could start draining his mana, the carriage suddenly pulled into a stop, the inertia causing their lips part roughly and nearly throwing themselves to the floor thanks to having the other in an arm.

Both her hands on the floor, managing from faceplanting it completely, she turned an irate look at the driver, her cheeks raging red from being denied her daily satiation, "Wha!? What's going on!?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Meili!" Rem apologized worriedly, glancing at the child over her shoulder, "It's just that…."

Meili quickly got up to her feet and looked out the window without exposing her head, and was taken aback at the sight of an armored soldier wearing shiny whitesteel standing at the side of the road. There is no one else who would wear anything like that in her memory, "Zakurah!?"

The person removed her ornate helmet and the woman sent a simple smile her way, "Ho there, Little One." She greeted with a light voice, and she approached the carriage with such graceful steps on her movement that no one would expect from somebody wearing a full suit of armor. She looked up to the maid and nodded, "Salutations, Lady Rem."

Rem stood up from the box seat and hopped down soundlessly to the Holy Knight's level before bowing to her professionally, "Good morning to you too, Lady Zakurah."

Mother opened the door and Meili quickly stepped aside, returning to the seat as Emurdol knelt at the doorway, facing Zakurah firmly. The latter nodded to him almost reverently, "Good day, Milord Emurdol. I am here to inform you that I have made my choice."

He only gave a light nod, "Judging by your attire, it is safe to assume the obvious."

"Yes, indeed." Her response is quite eager too. "I have already discussed this with Raeburn, and we have mutually agreed on it. He only asks that you grant him a warm welcome in the land you belong to when he visits."

Emurdol stared at her without blinking, focusing only on the important parts of her sentence and followed up with a critical question. One to determine his decision in accepting her help. "Do you know what you're heading into?"

In response, Zakurah put an armored fist to her chest, solemn and firm, "I do. Raeburn has told me that the Mathers Domain has been put under lockdown and are now currently reporting suspicious activity. Judging by what I have learned from Miss Meili yesterday, the Witch Cult are churning up a storm. It is only a matter of time before the rain falls. I intend to lend my hand in aid and put a stop to their evildoing. If God wills it, I will do everything in my power to ensure the safety of innocent lives and protect the land from their darkness."

Emurdol closed his eyes and huffed silently. That sense of duty is almost sounding a little too familiar. It's almost as if she was emulating her Master perfectly. Pericus, that earnest bastard. How the hell did he manage to raise this child to become exactly like he was? And to think he was receiving help from a Holy Knight of all people….

Is the world truly coming to an end?

"What is your price, Zakurah?" He asked, fully using her name. He can predict her answer, and he steeled himself, preparing to hold down his anger. She would say she'll want noth—

"My only price is that you grant me your acknowledgement and your blessing, Ser Emurdol, and I will be satisfied, even if you do not accept me into your faction."

…..

…..…..

…..…..…..…..

For a while, Emurdol was struck speechless.

His history with her kind was that they would not demand gold or property, they would instead demand blind obedience to the faith in exchange for their 'selfless' service, sacrificing all of freedom and all of their essential rights will be slowly drained by the Church twisted by Wrath, like a leech. It's the same as surrendering your lives to the hands of demons, who have all the freedom to cast it aside for the most minor of slights, alleged or otherwise.

Here was a Holy Knight, who is demanding something that's practically materialistic instead of being pretentious with their warped sense of altruism. Instead of gold, she sought for his praise, as if it would mean the same value as God acknowledging her.

It isn't the 'what' that's important. It's whom she's asking it from.

Him. A Holy Knight is seeking his approval, a Necromagus'…

…..

…..…..

…..…..…..

The world is truly coming to an end.

Her price is something he couldn't accept so readily due to how absolutely, utterly, improbably, and mind-blowingly outlandish it is, especially when it's coming from a profession like hers.

But her demand is just so…..

...childlike.

His right armored hand moved to hold his face, the sharp points carefully not digging into his flesh.

And he laughed.

Rem turned to face him questionably the sooner she heard that strange sound. "Ser Emurdol…?"

It was a chortle, a croaking sound that resonated inside his throat. Then his teeth began showing from his sneer, and the snickering came. Eventually it got louder, and he sounded as if he's trying his best to hold it in and failing to.

And fail he did. He exploded into laughter inside the carriage, throwing his head back and guffawing to the heavens, threatening to break the ceiling apart with his powerful vocal cords alone. The quality of it was outright terrifying. It was more like he was cackling instead, a shrill sound that could only belong to the most twisted of men.

And it did not stop.

The Link that connected him to Meili led to the latter being infected by his disturbing mirth, intuitively knowing the reason behind it. 20 seconds of his ensuing cackle, she began to lose control over herself, her angelic giggles devolving into a horrifying fit of hysterics. Her spine was bending backwards in an impossible shape, her brown hand clutching at her own throat rather dangerously. Her shrill voice did not do her contorting face any favors either, especially when her eyes were bleeding red.

Zakurah could only stare in shock, her reaction shared amongst the civilians behind her, a heavy majority hurriedly backing away and even a lone guard that was in earshot was too hesitant to approach.

When a whole minute and 30 seconds has passed, both father and daughter fell backwards, limp, bent, but still sat up, the top of their heads nearly touching the floor and the seat, respectively.

In an extremely uncanny unison that did not look right in Zakurah's eyes, the two straightened their spines into human proportions in the same motion and in the same angle, both fixing a soul-sucking gaze on her.

With a rather 'healthy' smile on his face, he held out a gauntleted hand to her, granting her the approval and the acceptance of her condition, saying in a calm voice, "Welcome."

Zakurah quickly found out that she did not consider the kind of things she'll see from him from now on.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

As it turns out, their kind's eccentricities only shine on random times. For the rest of the trip, they act pretty much just like a normal father and daughter, except with a lot more intimacy than one would think. Along the way, it was spent in light chats and conversations.

Zakurah spent much of her time telling him about the five years she spent in Pandemonium renewing the Order and fighting for the redemption of the Church, all her ups and downs, the thousands of deserved misery sent her way and very little repose given.

She was denied hospitality, met with scorn, and not even allowed a simple passage through a village. She had been attacked too. Even if she fought back without even harming her fellow man, that only led to misunderstandings and lies being sent her way, saying that she started it all, leading to further injustice and mistreatment.

She had a good taste of what the Order of the Serpent suffered. She can't say it will ever compare to what her idol's people went through for many centuries but she was proud. She took pride in her suffering and saw it as a form of self-flagellation. If she goes through self-mortification, so does the Order. She does represent it, after all. No matter what has been done to her, she would always come at the call for help, especially from the ones who hated and beaten her, and take no credit from it.

Such a retelling earned her grim looks from the two sat across her and a rather awkward atmosphere settled in the carriage. She only gave them an unapologetic smile.

She regretted nothing and accepted the contempt of the people. Even after 5 years, progression in the views of the Holy Order were minimal, with a few occurrences here and there when some individuals do appreciate their efforts, but that's not what they were aiming for, anyway. They are not seeking redemption nor repentance. They only seek to perform their duties, and they will continue to do so, even if the world has forgiven them of their sins and loved them again.

Only God can forgive them. If she was not visited by the Seraphim, then she will not have pretentions and continue with her duty, even if they last till the day she dies. It's the only right thing to do for an Order that only knew how to control and kill for the last few centuries, warping the Word of God and heralding the return of Pandemonium's primordial state.

That accursed Cardinal, having somehow achieved longevity and called it a Miracle of God. The deception ran deeper than she thought when her Master finally killed him.

Emurdol pointed something out. If her livelihood is defined by only self-imposed suffering, self-sacrifice, and a single-mindedness towards a self-imposed duty, and it is shared by every other Holy Knight in Pandemonium, then her Order will inevitably perish. Due to the newfound hate the people now has on them, no one will ever think of enlisting in the Order, leaving no potential apprentices to carry on the Creed.

And her response came out of her mouth easily. "It is fine." She had already resigned herself to that fate long ago. Her fellow Knights did as well. "If Pandemonium and your people can heal itself from the wounds we've caused with our fall, then it is fitting that the Order perishes along with the last Knight. The Church has already excommunicated us, anyway, but I did the best I can to salvage the remnants of the Order so we could do what we should have done long ago while we still can."

Her idol and his daughter gave her firm looks. She isn't sure what they thought of her, but she can assume that they are having the same opinion as other people who do not hate her and heard the same story. They pitied her and asked her to give herself a chance.

But she was hardly someone that changed her mind, especially when it comes to duty. Raeburn described her well. She's stubborn as an iron gate, which is exactly what she inherited from her master, literally and figuratively.

The pair didn't say anything. Emurdol merely crossed his arms and nodded, leaning back into his seat and eventually becoming as still as a statue. Meili, however, stood up, removed her glove and took a seat beside her instead, looping an arm around her left one and taking her gauntleted hand into her lap, patting it with her right one, leaning her head against her pauldron-covered shoulder. "Good job." She softly said.

Zakurah nearly fell to tears right there.

She is always met with pity and lectures by those that sympathize her. She's even told to just stop and live again, give up on her self-punishment and find meaning again in a life that's not bent on making her suffer. Raeburn was even fiery in pointing that out to her days ago, pleading that she simply stop it.

To hear this insignificant and tiny praise…she quickly realized that this is actually the very first time it happened. She is still being pitied and consoled, but she was understood and her choices were respected, especially with the way her hand was being held tightly.

Her efforts did mean something. These two validated it, especially when a Necromagus from Pandemonium took no pleasure in her adversity unlike the other ones she met, and the fact that it came from Emurdol and his child brought no greater joy to her heart.

Eyes welling in tears, she turned to the Father, "You are blessed to have such a wonderful daughter, Lord Emurdol."

The Necromagus didn't move, but after a few seconds, he opened his eyes and looked firmly into her deep blue orbs. "I once agreed to a meaningless wager with Pericus, and to owe him a favor in the one instance in my lifetime that I actually lose to him. To see the way you are, and to hear your tale and resolve…..it seems I can finally pay my due to him."

"Lord Emurdol?"

"When this endeavor is over," He held a meaningful gaze on her, and she could perceive many things in the green depths. So much emotion and complexity, it was almost impossible for her to get a proper read on it despite her experience, "Let us talk, with a cup of wine if we can."

Now she has a firm motivation in facing this coming storm. By God, she will not fail.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

"Are we here?" She asked, noticing the gazes of the pair pointing firmly forward past the Dragon's galloping form, looking as if they were preparing for something.

No one answered her.

Hardly any conversation occurred after the promise of conversation between her and Emurdol, especially with Meili falling asleep after half an hour of squeezing her gauntleted hand and the Necromagus being completely immobile the whole time and indicating no interest in talk, but this lack of response had a different impression. This silence is too….cautious.

Or rather….the forests they were crossing is eerily silent. No insects. No bird songs. Not even wind aside from the one avoiding this moving carriage. It's dead quiet, as if the world is hiding in fear from something.

She only had a half-second to realize what was happening before she stood up and put on her helmet. Afterwards, she shrugged off the straps of her shield on her back and had it expertly slung around her left forearm, keeping her right hand unarmed and free for now, taking just a half-second to survey her company.

The Necromagi's forms were stiff, tightly coiled as if they were going to spring off from the ground and pounce. Their hair were floating in unseen waves as if they were in underwater, and she could see a kris poking through the opening of Meili's cloak. She could feel the mana being siphoned to their direction too, and the sensation of a dark spell being prepared made her body react by giving her goosebumps.

She heard a slight rustling on the left side of the carriage before she saw the armored skeleton stand on the box seat beside Rem, krises and sickles held on all four arms, ready and prepared. Rem's form is also visibly stiff, having noticed the atmosphere and preparing for the worst, keeping a tight grip on the reins.

The aura of the Undead permeated from above her as well, indicating that the flesh golem is now posted on the roof, likely keeping an eye out for potential danger in a wider angle and maybe announce it the sooner it was noticed. As a Soul inside a mass of meat, their perceptions are even more reliable compared to the living. Raeburn told her something like that once.

Noticing that both her sides are covered by the pair staring out the carriage door windows, she then opted to prioritizing the safety of the child, partially back to back with the father and hovering her shield on the girl's left side. Emurdol can handle any threat, considering his reputation. If she could give him one less person to worry about, such as keeping Rem and Meili from getting killed, then he can focus on enemies unimpeded and keep him at top performance.

"HaAaAaAaAaAaAaA—"

The Flesh Golem screamed.

She saw flashes of light erupt from the thicket and trees. Those were thrown cruciform knives, heading straight for the person on top of the carriage. At the sight of them, Meili became an inky shroud and breached out the window.

Zakurah didn't expect the child to charge out like that so blatantly, "Wha—"

"STOOOOOP‼!"

Before the inertia threw her body towards the front of the carriage the sooner the Ground Dragon slid to a stop, Zakurah had already slammed her body through the frame of the door, shattering the entry, flying face-first into a giant boulder thrown at the vehicle, and barely slowing down as she collided against it before landing to the ground with an earthshaking stomp.

Drawing out her sword, the Holy Knight invoked the blessing of protection and envelope her body from helmet to sabaton with Holy Light and Fortitude.

"Wiiiiiiitch CUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLT!‼!"

Shutting her mind from Rem's roar, the panicked braying of the Dragon, the sound of steel clanging against steel, the rustling of chains, the sound of flesh being torn apart, and the roaring of the morphing Flesh Golem, Zakurah swatted aside one thrown dagger with her sword and blocked a volley of them with her shield and armor, sharp points bouncing off the ultra-hard steel.

Not wasting a second, Zakurah charged forward so fast the enemy before her didn't even see it coming and was crushed flat against the tree trunk by her shield, organs and ribcage reduced to mush, expunged out of the body like a broken waterskin, and the thick wood bent in half, about to meet the ground.

For the half-second she had, she quickly took in the forms of her foes as nowhere different than the Acolytes she's seen in Pandemonium. Except this time, their faces are completely obscured by their pointy hoods and their robes are pure black, nearly crossing the darkest shade of purple. Just by the look of them, she doesn't even need Rem to shout out what they are.

They are the Witch Cult, and they carry malevolence with them like a disease. She could feel it. Pacifism and diplomacy has no place here.

She swatted aside two knives coming from her right with her sword again, and that left her open for an assault of two cruciform daggers held by two assailants that swooped in like arrows to exploit the opportunity, targeting the gap in-between her neck and helmet. If she doesn't swing her sword back the opposite direction, she will suffer for it.

But her Master is a man named Pericus, and he never fought with a sword.

She twisted her body to the side in blurring speeds and the topside of her shield flew straight to the chests of both Acolytes as if she held a feather, their bodies literally folding in half before their crumpled forms flew to the side.

Charging forward with rapid steps, her shield held out in front of her, she powered through every sharp projectile thrown at her and quickly bisected an Acolyte in half with her sword the sooner she was in reach. In the same motion, she redirected the dagger coming from her left aside and bent the neck of the wielder with the blunt edge of her shield. Continuing the same momentum of her parry, she spun alongside her weapon and severed an outstretched arm holding a cruciform knife before her shield followed up to crush the enemy into the soil, blood and bones violently expelled out of the body.

Looking up and taking in the others for a half-second, she saw Rem seemingly afloat in the air as the chains of her giant flail surrounded her petite form like an aura of iron protection, her roaring face obscured by the scowling white demon mask she wore, the horn on the forehead glowing a pure white. On the ground beneath her, two Acolytes were bisected by the pure force of her barbed weapon.

The Flesh Golem had taken the shape of Gluttony, the Supreme Sin casually standing in place next to the carriage and smoking her pipe with one hand while the other held her elbow, completely undressed, her voluptuous and seductive form bare to the world and hardly betraying the action of blocking every knife and killing spell that came to Rem's direction with her vapors. Her eyes aren't even open.

The panicking Ground Dragon was guarded by a group of Rock Golems, hulking humanoids of earth and stone crossing their gigantic arms in front of them like shields and surrounding the beast, keeping their only means of transportation from being killed. Standing atop their broad shoulders were the minions of every typical Death Mage, skeletons. These versions had brewing magic in their arms, the will to burn, taint, freeze, and electrocute aimed at every enemy in sight. A thrown fireball from the Acolytes was stopped by a surging bolt of ice, sending steam everywhere and the assailant quickly lost their entire head due to Rem's flail.

Emurdol himself stood at the roof of the carriage, thorny spider legs of bone-make clutching the vehicle while his arms are stretched out beside him, his armored hands glowing with necromantic energy and turning every dead body in the vicinity into a bloody marionette of bones that leapt at the Acolytes with animalistic ferocity and ivory imitations of every murder implement imaginable. It took 2 skeletons for 1 enemy to be overwhelmed by knives and a group of 3 axe wielders fell under the might of 6 lunatics holding daggers. That dead body proved to be more than instrumental, as it exploded in a shower of blood, entrails, and bones, eviscerating every Acolyte in its nearest vicinity.

The Armored Skeleton leapt and pounced like a speeding demon, its light-eating form barely perceptible from its blurring speeds and bisecting every Acolyte that ever came close in a certain radius around the carriage, blood spurting out everywhere like fountains and many body parts separated before meeting the ground at once.

For some reason, the Necromagus is not being targeted despite being in the one place where he could get shot from all directions.

And Meili is still nowhere to be seen.

The little girl's wellbeing now her concern, the half-second passed and she spun back around to face behind her and she's just in time to see one Acolyte having arrived within arms-reach without a sound and slammed a palm straight into her midsection.

Zakurah was surprised. That barehanded blow would have snapped a man's spine and brutalized every single organ inside to pieces, and maybe even stop the heart. This Acolyte wasn't like the rest, and it's clearly stronger. However, this assailant made the mistake of using such a technique on her instead of somebody else. Instead of her skeleton being shattered, the attacking arm simply deformed itself with such a dull crack of shattering bones while she barely budged.

Without wasting time, she winded her arm in a circular motion and brought the pointy edge of her kite shield down on the lunatic's head. The results came in the form of the skull within the hood splitting in half, followed by the torso—

The leg lashed out a ferocious kick to her head despite the owner being headless.

If their palms carried enough power to crater the ground, then the kick had enough power to practically flip it over.

The attacking leg exploded into a cloud of bones and blood upon meeting contact with ultra-hard whitesteel armor, but it left the result of the headgear flying off Zakurah's head and sending her reeling backwards from immense shock.

A body moving on its own like that without the support of necromantic magic was not possible, even in Pandemonium.

These bastards are not human.

As she quickly held up her shield to block an incoming volley of knives that took advantage of her stun, she felt a surge of heat arrive behind it and immediately assumed a fireball being thrown at her. Her response was to reflexively jump towards it, dispersing the spell and coming out unscathed before she reared back her shield and drove it to the ground, with one Acolyte crushed before the earth sprouted upwards like a flower around her, dust flying everywhere under the might of her attack.

She smashed through the earthy petals and met another flying boulder to the face. Taking the blow without slowing down or the slightest injury, she kept charging like an unstoppable bull, and a blazing wall of fire conjured itself before her, a gigantic fireball falling down from above.

The impact caused a powerful explosion, setting the forests around her ablaze, ash and black smoke soaring into the sky. The road is utterly ruined, rendered unusable and unsafe for travel, every trace of life in the epicenter burned to death.

But the conflagration was unexpectedly snuffed out, as if an unseen wave of water doused it all. Zakurah stood taut and strong in the epicenter, not a single burn visible on her form, her armor shining with blinding light, her eyes blazing white from the might of her fury, the giant Tower Shield of her Master split in half and held with both hands, and she charged.

The Acolytes that lived through the destruction were scattering away, trying their utmost hardest to evade the vengeful Holy Knight and failing royally, barely able to avoid being crushed flat and the flying debris of wood, stone, and earth that flew from the shockwave of the giant shields slamming the ground. Despite their size, Zakurah was lightning fast with her Tower Shield. She swung them like feathers and her swift dashes couldn't be evaded, especially when every obstacle like trees or magic attacks were literally pushed aside like wind, a feat worthy of juggernauts.

She demonstrated incredible finesse with her mountainous weapons. Despite them being twice her size and height, she wielded them with the expertise of a master in a dazzling display of both grace and ferocity, spinning like a pinwheel and even twisting horizontally in the air before slamming a shield's edge to the ground, shattering the earth and the Acolyte in her sights without mercy.

With a purpose, she slammed her shield halves together in a thunderous gong, and she held the top rim before swinging it around her like a piece of paper, its broad side sending a powerful gust of wind and slamming into 4 of the lunatics, reducing them to a red splat on the ornate steel before letting go, letting it sail through hundreds of meters of trees and leaving a destroyed trail of both green and red, courtesy of the plant life and the wicked men in the way.

Having thrown aside her sword and shield earlier, she resorted to her fists, ablaze with the flames of the High Heavens, and she continued her search for Emurdol's daughter.

And she found an inky cloud sneak up behind one of the Acolytes from the shadows before it materialized into a pale little girl and drove her brown fist through the chest from behind and out of the torso front, her knuckles slick with bones and blood while her kris is buried into the back of the head.

As the Acolytes turned their attention to the new foe, Zakurah didn't waste the opportunity given by the child. She shattered 1 entire ribcage with a forearm charge, and smote another opponent with a bisecting kick, cleaving the person in half. Surprised again, Meili returned the favor and took the opportunity, making the felled bodies of nearby enemies explode in a cloud of blood, flesh and bones, having the Holy Knight caught in the blast as every bone fragment within them flew straight towards the remaining 6.

Riddled with holes and about to expire, their falling bodies defiantly lashed out against death, swinging the arms holding their cruciform knives and throwing them straight to Meili's undefended form.

Zakurah was quick to jump straight towards the volley, taking the brunt of the barrage and they bounced off her skin and armor—

One slipped past in-between her arm and side. Without a shield, her defense is significantly smaller. Eyes wide, her mind horror-struck, her nearest arm lashed out to swat it out of its original trajectory, if not catch it, but her body's never trained to catch projectiles, and she could only gawk as her fingers missed the hilt by a single inch.

And the dagger sunk into Meili's shoulder, the child spinning in place to diminish its momentum and keep the weapon from sinking even further to her lung.

Without flinching, the child pulled it out, the wound visible from the hole on her black shirt but not bleeding, and she bolted past Zakurah, her cloak quickly disappearing out of sight towards the direction of the carriage.

She didn't think about her failure. She only hurried after the child, finding her shield and sword along the way before she made her way back to the place they were attacked.

And she could only give the bloodbath a short glance before ignoring it. She's already seen it all. Blood was everywhere. So many entrails were scattered. Skin and flesh were strewn all over, and that was thanks to Emurdol's handiwork of turning every corpses' skeleton into his minion, standing around the carriage in a broken circle.

The skeletons parted to make way for Meili and she quickly arrived to the Ground Dragon's space, jumping over the Golems and landed atop its back, keeping her brown hand on its scaly hide. Looking over for a half-second, Zakurah saw that Emurdol and the rest were completely safe. Bloodied, but alive. Rem stood at the roof of the carriage beside the Necromagus, heaving in breath, her clothes tattered and swathed with blood, her flail dripping with gore, but she looked completely intact. Relief took over the Holy Knight before a reprimanding shout blew out.

"Don't relax!"

In reflex to Emurdol's command, she took position and faced the outward direction, shield facing forward while her sword is held low and pointing to the side, keeping her eyes alert for another attack.

"Cover your ears…." Gluttony's sultry voice pierced through the stiff silence, clearly addressing Zakurah, "….or don't. I don't care. Just dispel the curse before it kills you, Knight….."

Zakurah heard the sound of someone taking a deep breath—

She quickly slammed the fist of her shield arm to her chest, invoked a purging on herself.

—and a grating scream erupted from Meili's last position, so shrill it will shatter the eardrums of anyone nearby and echoing so far out of the area they're in.

As soon as the echoes reached a far distance, she heard the sound of bodies falling to the ground, one after another. Widening her squinting eyes, Zakurah saw the forms of the Acolytes toppling to the earth behind the trees, clutching their shoulder and convulsing rather painfully.

Eventually, their forms stopped moving and all indications of them being alive were now nonexistent. In cue, their bodies exploded in a cloud of blood and guts, their skeletons rising out of their desecrated vessels and stepping forward to their new master, trailing red and entrails behind them.

Meili's scream carried a curse, the kind that Zakurah knew. Whoever so much as heard it will suffer the same pain as the one who casted it. The most skilled of such sorcerers would be capable of causing immediate death from even the smallest cut.

Looking back at the girl, she saw the child's kris buried at the tip into her shoulder wound before pulling it out and rising from her crouch, lifting her bloody brown hand up from the Ground Dragon's hide.

So she poisoned them through the curse. Zakurah's well-aware that Meili's own poisons can't kill her, her small body perfectly modified to survive even the worst, but she didn't expect her to be clever. Regardless of whether her Curse of an Eye for an Eye could cause grievous wounds or not with minor injuries, the toxins will kill them, anyway.

She likely positioned herself on the Dragon to dispel the curse the creature received.

Looking over to Rem, Emurdol had his hand on her arm and she didn't seem to be convulsing. Good. She's dispelled too. Zakurah won't have to worry about her Undead companions, however.

Turning around and surveying the area once again, she scrutinized any detail possible with just a half-second glance. Seeing that danger was not within the vicinity, for now, Zakurah reported, "We're clear for now, Lord Emurdol."

"This doesn't bode well." Emurdol remarked, catching a bone wand thrown to him by the armored skeleton.

"They're too close to Earlham Village. They were expecting us too." Meili added. Her jolly and sultry demeanor nonexistent. In its place was a focused and cold-eyed Necromagus. If tigers could turn into humans and still carry the same air of ferocity but also the composure of an intelligent human, she would fit the description quite well. "The Souls are afraid….of course….."

Rem took off her blood-splattered demon mask, revealing her immaculately clean and adorable face. Her brow was furrowed, and the concern in her voice couldn't be hidden, "We have to hurry. Something could have happened to the villagers or Dear Sister, or even Lady Emilia….!"

"Has your Sister sent you any messages through synesthesia….?" Gluttony was consistent in her tone and posture, her body language barely reflecting the severity of the situation as she took a slow inhale of her pipe.

"None, but if something happened to her, Rem would know."

"Which means the mansion and the village is still safe."
"Which means the mansion and the village is still safe."

Emurdol and Zakurah faced each other with varying degrees of surprise, having uttered the same line of thought. The latter smiled awkwardly while the former nodded, his face unchanging from its cold stoicism.

He looked at the wand in his hand, glowing green as bright as a torch in the dark of night despite the bright midday light, and his eyes illuminated in the same intensity, their light nearly blotting out his entire face.

5 seconds after, he blinked and the green light dimmed instantly, turning around to face the left side of the road, his thorny legs skittering on the carriage's roof in the movement. "I know where their ringleader is."

"Then let's hunt him down." Meili was quick to suggest it, stepping down from the Dragon and reshaping her brown hand into a large claw. "I don't think poisons can do much though. Sin Archbishops aren't easy to kill. We need to—"

"No, An'k." Emurdol stepped down from the carriage, his black ivory appendages extending and stabbing into the ground before adjusting evenly. "I will handle him myself. Your job will be to return to the village with Rem and Zakurah."

"Why?"

Emurdol turned to her with a cold gaze. "Because you don't have anything to prove." His legs skittered as he approached her, his tone uncompromising, "I had history with facing the worst of all enemies and survived them all. You do not. Your capabilities are indeed strong but they have a better use elsewhere. And direct combat is not one of them. If you were to come with me, I'd have to keep your well-being in mind. That would impede my performance."

Meili looked at him exasperatingly, her voice steadily rising. "Why do you need to worry about me? I can handle myself!"

"I can't simply do that." Instead of mirroring the vitriol, Emurdol displayed his weakness, and Meili was visibly taken aback by it. He picked her up and embraced her tight, his dialogue suddenly softening and revealing his worries, "You're my daughter. I love you, and it is my very right to put your life over mine. If your life is to be traded with mine, I would gladly hand it over." Then his eyes glowed with a fiery light, "That's why you shall not come. The most dangerous tasks shall be left to me."

"No!" As he moved to set her down, Meili didn't let go. Her arms and legs were wrapped around him, as tight as iron, her face buried into his shoulder, her cries muffled and emotional, "No! I'm not letting you! What if—! What if you get hurt!? What if I wasn't there to save you!? What if you suddenly died and I didn't know about it!?"

"Yes. Meili couldn't be anymore right." Rem had agreed to such sentiments as well, stepping down from the carriage roof and approaching him, and she was also on the verge of tears. "That's why, Ser Emurdol, Rem will not let you go alone as well. Rem will not stand what happened to you last time to repeat itself again! You will not lose another part of yourself anymore!"

Emurdol quickly pulled her close with a free arm and embraced her tightly alongside Meili. As he held the sobbing girls to his chest, practically crushing them as they in turn held him, intending to never let him go, his eyes leaked with red tears, his sneer sharpened into lethal points, and his orbs of bright green glowed with passion.

However, Zakurah did not see the resignation of a man about to exchange his life for the ones he loved.

"The last time I saved you both and Emilia, I have intended the aftermath to end with me dying and granting me my Peace with the Dragon, for there is nothing in this world waiting for me."

Here is a man willing to walk through Hell and come out of it unscathed and alive, all because someone was waiting for him on the other side. Zakurah felt her heart burn with zeal and inspiration in the face of it. Love truly avails, and here's the reason why.

He kissed both their heads, and he continued, "But not anymore. You two are now my reasons to live. Without you both, I will have nothing. I will be nothing. There is no world that deserves to be lived in without you two in it." He had Rem drew back from his chest and he took her lips to his own, kissing her deeply. The maid quickly melted into it, reciprocating it with every passion she had. As they parted with a pop, Meili pulled his face close and took his lips as well, which he returned very intimately.

Revulsion and embarrassment took over Zakurah and she looked away, trying her best to not start being self-righteous in the face of a sapient species that do not conform to basic norms.

Once Emurdol and Meili parted, the family embraced each other one more time, "I am finished with seeking my death. My Soul belongs to you both now, therefore I will never leave this world while you still live to hold it. That's why I will come back."

Rubbing her eyes furiously with her sleeve, Meili looked up to him and asked, her voice just one step away from becoming resolute, "Do you swear?"

His right hand is held firmly by Rem, looking up to him pleadingly, "You will come back to us, right?"

"By my word, and by our contract, I swear." He put their heads together, and his form exploded with necromantic energy, as if his mana core's vessel had burst open. Rem's horn sprouted out while Meili's eyes began glowing brightly like a lamp, and the expelled mana is quickly being siphoned by the girls.

As the last of it was drained, their faces were now resolute and confident. Meili let go of her father's chest and stepped down to the ground while Rem let go of his forearm, backing away. The sooner they were away, Emurdol's form deformed into a giant cloud of slick inky black and surged into the forest.

Turning around in unison, they approached the carriage with a purpose and every minion of rock and bone readied up for departure, stepping away from the Ground Dragon and making way for the road in front of them. Zakurah stepped up, "What's the plan?"

"The villagers must evacuate to the mansion." Rem answered curtly, putting her demon mask back on. "Rem and the others will keep them guarded as they do. Once they are inside, we keep them guarded until Ser Emurdol comes back with further instructions."

"I'll try to get some witchbeasties to help us." Meili followed, leaping towards the box seat of the carriage, "I didn't find any around here when I was looking for some. I'll see if there's some more around the forests near the village."

Zakurah knew what witchbeasts are, and she didn't question why or how this girl is going to have those demon animals help them in this situation. If Rem didn't question it, neither should she. "I'll aid in any way I can."

"Then do not forget this…." Zakurah turned to the voice and she caught her helmet thrown to her with her shield arm. Traces of that intoxicating perfume lingered on the steel. "You wouldn't be useful if you had something stabbed in your eye….."

The Holy Knight held a long-suffering look, putting it on and purging the smell with a brief chant, "Thank you, Gluttony." She never thought she'd end up thanking a Supreme Sin like that.

Rem took ahold of the reins and snapped them. The Ground Dragon quickly responded to the prompt of leaving this dangerous place and bolted away towards Earlham Village. Zakurah leapt inside the open door and sheathed her sword, keeping a look out for more ambushes. Gluttony and the armored skeleton went back to their places of hanging on the sides of the carriage, the rest of the skeletons and Golems managing to stay beside the vehicle as they kept it guarded in a tight protective circle.

With this sizable force, she can only pray that this straightforward plan works and things couldn't get any worse than it already had. The Hero better do something instrumental while he's away.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Clawed gauntlets and thorny appendages of bones now bloody and dripping of evidences to the recent confrontations of those Cultists, Emurdol finally reached the place the ringleader was, a large entourage of skeletons of all variations and Golems following close behind him.

After a long rampage that lasted for more than 30 minutes, having killed a sizable number of those madmen along the way, his destination ended to a rock wall, one that stretched high enough to need a ladder to climb over. There was a sizable hole on its surface near ground level, a cave entrance, dark and foreboding in appearance alone.

And there stood a man.

"Aaaaaah…! My brain…..trembles…!"

He was nearly as tall as Emurdol without his arachnid legs, and he wore the same habit as those of the lunatics, black and ill-boding in every way. His, however, looked far too closely to those of a Priest's robes, even had a sash too.

"My left ring finger, gghhh…! My left middle fing-GEEER….! My left index finger…..! All crushed….Aaaah, such a sweet ordeal this has been! How rewarding! How satisfying! How gratifying…! Our diligence has been richly rewarded!"

He was skin and bones. He was so thin under his robes it shouldn't be possible for him to be standing straight and flailing his arms so wildly that they didn't come flying off from the exertions.

"To come before me! To appear before me! To approach before my presence with the bones of my fingers now used as your own! Aaah! Diligence! It is diligent! To die is to be slothful! But you brought the slothful dead back to life under your diligent will so they can diligently fulfill their obligations! Aaaaagghh! That! That! THAT! IS TRULY DILIGENT! YES!"

The madness of his bloodshot eyes clashed greatly against it all. He exhumed such great jubilation and energy that he defied every impression his body makes. He bit his fingers. His body swayed violently. His voice was rasped and grisly, full of his fanatic devotion. It made Emurdol sick.

"Love! It is love! It has to be love! It truly must be LOOOOOOOVE!" Then suddenly, his entire air shifted, from a raging MADMAN to a solemn psycho, but his deranged smile never left him. "You been granted such affection. Truly. Truly. Truly. Truly. Truly. Truly most interesting. Her affections hovers thickly all around you. You are truly loved. Yes."

He put his bony hands together in front of him, as if he was praying, and he became the twisted representation of what a Priest should be. "I should know the faces of all except Pride, but having said that, I don't think the affection you have received is unrelated to the Gospel."

The MADMAN leaned forward, almost fully horizontal that it was amazing he didn't topple from such an unbalanced posture. He reached inside his habit and pulled out a thick black book, leather-bound and lacking a title. "Aaaah…..I feel the love of the Gospel…..! My brain….it trembles…..!" And he reverently turned the pages, his eyes glued to it and salivating so much as if he was actually feeding off the words from the text.

"You are not recorded within the Gospel. Of course, there is also nothing here about any of the problems occurring here today, on the eve of the Ordeal! In other words!" He slammed the book shut with a thunderous sound, his spit flying out in his crazed discovery, "You are nothing to be truly concerned about! Even though you have such deep! Deep! Deep! Deep! Deep! Deeep affection….it is quite an inconsistency, yeeees….!"

Then his Acolytes rose from the soil just like before. Ominous and without a sound, a group of 10 arrived from the earth, dividing and stood on either side of the crazed Priest, cruciform daggers held in each of their hands.

"You are Pride! You have to be! With all of six seats of the Seven Deadly Sins, only Pride's Seat has been vacant and unclaimed! With such Love, surely the Witch Factor has now reached you as its next generation, yes….?"

He's deluded. He's drunk. He's clouded. He's hazed. He assumes. He concludes.

Emurdol won't hear another word from him. He's done.

"TeLl Me YoUr NaMe."

The man froze, completely. Even with the lack of wind, it looked as if his habits had completely frozen as well. Alongside this stillness, so did the atmosphere, tense and quiet, as if the world itself is preparing for the worst, for everything to explode and massacre everything in sight.

Then he snapped back upright, his robes failing to catch up to his spine-snapping movements, his smile stretching so widely it looked like his head was going to split in half, and he bowed at the waist, dropping so far down his head literally pointed to the ground.

"I am the Sin Archbishop of the Witch's Cult, representing Sloth…."

He makes Emurdol mad.

"….Petelguese Romanee-Conti—YES!"

In the face of such passionate introductions, Emurdol merely lifted up his right arm horizontally and pointed a clawed metal finger at him.

Without a warning, Petelguese is mercilessly impaled.

An ivory stake pierced through the earth and out into the surface, running the MADMAN through his chest. Pushed back upright, a mantis sickle rose out of the soil and stabbed horizontally into Sloth's heart and out the back, the point stabbing into the ground as it sent him leaning backwards. An additional number of stakes pierced into the back of his pelvis, pushing them outwards and fully separating his spine from his lower body.

A final mantis sickle arrived from the earth above Petelguese's head, and it swung down, stabbing into his open mouth, piercing out of the back of his head, and it pulled, yanking his head off his neck and extracting the spine along.

His entourage of Cultists have already fallen to ivory knives, axes, swords, and earthen fists before the MADMAN had suffered the first mantis sickle. A quick and efficient strike, as fitting a Priest of the Serpent.

As the new batch of dead bodies were risen as skeletons and proceeded to mercilessly mutilate, disembowel, rip apart, crush, draw and quarter Petelguese's body, Emurdol's wand glowed under his left hand, the Soul Gem inside siphoning every departing Soul straight into the Court, to be subjugated to the Hell of Nothingness and put to the judgment of their own sins just like the ones before them….

And the MADMAN'S Soul was not among them.