Author's Note #1: The setting of this Fanfic takes place before the backpedaling- I mean soft retcons that Kenkou Cross has done, making it an AU. (Well, it's fanfiction and deviates from the original plot so I guess that makes it an AU by default, but you get the idea. (The soft retcons are technically AUs too aren't they? They literally contradict everything written in the previous books. (Then again, KC has a habit of contradicting themselves. (I guess it's kinda like SCP Foundation, whatever you want to be canon is canon, ignore everything else)))).

Author's Note #2: This isn't going to be a cringey 'Humans Fuck Yeah!' type of fanfiction, I will actually attempt to add depth to the Monster Girls in later chapters. That being said however, this is still a Hate-fic (NOT a Fix-fic, those ones actually improve the setting (Example: KC's soft retcons)) that portrays the Monster Girls in a negative light, so if you actually like the MGE setting, I highly recommend not reading this.

Or not, I can't actually stop you from posting an angry review, so just do what you enjoy I guess, I (probably) won't be bothered by it.

Undertale OST - Snowy Extended
by Elu Tran on Youtube

Bazalt Erevesrep arrived at his workstation, tiredly sitting down and checking the clock to see that his shift hadn't started yet.

It was a dark place, only lit up by the single window during the day and a single candle during the night. This room was also very quiet, a stark contrast to the busy streets that Bazalt needed to walk through in order to get here.

Bazalt was bald, had an aged and tired face, and a bushy beard that wrapped around his mouth. His eyes had sunken into his face through all the years, but the small blue orbs were still visible to anyone that bothered to look. He wore a heavy, brown trenchcoat, a work uniform that he had not replaced for the entirety of his employment. Sometimes he wondered if the cotton inside his coat was really just dust. It would certainly explain why it was always so heavy, as well as why dust accumulated on it no matter where he left it. Perhaps it was actually the cremated ashes of the previous owner? He remembered hearing that this specific coat was passed down from several generations, and its inner contents would get thicker with each succession. He wouldn't really be surprised if that was the case. Lescatie's primary cotton, silk and wool supply was cut off a few years ago by some contact from the extremist faction of the Demon Lord's army.

Ten months prior to the incident, the city (known as 'Fibreburg') had apparently discovered some 'docile' monsters known as Weresheep that produced magical wool. Keep in mind, Fibreburg was a lot more tolerant of non-aggressive monsters than other Order-controlled states, and it wasn't rare to see a few Kobolds strolling the streets. Fibreburg's people assumed that the worst a Weresheep could really do was lazily snuggle up to you, and all you had to do was back away and keep your distance. Of course, they also discovered very quickly that shearing off their wool in large doses was a bad idea as the sleeping magic of the wool was what actually kept the Weresheep from assaulting anyone in the first place. Since harvesting a small bit at a time was extremely inefficient, the farmers decided to gather up a lot more Weresheep so the production wouldn't be lagging behind. Soon enough, there were almost as many Weresheep in Fibreburg as there were humans.

And guess what, all those Weresheep produced Demonic Energy, and not only that, their wool often contained trace amounts of it. At this point, nearly all of Fibreburg's wool-based products were made of the damn things, and the city was bordering on Demon Realm conversion. So all it took was just one small poke from one small army, and boom, Fibreburg became a Demon Realm and started corrupting its own citizens. The extremist faction wasn't even attacking, they were literally just passing by to say hi!

The Order was usually good at defending its territory, but if it lost even a small piece, it was rare for that piece to ever be taken back. Many crusades were launched on Fibreburg, and one of them almost succeeded in retaking the lost city, almost. If only it weren't for that damn radical Lilim.

Bazalt decided to focus his thoughts away from such a negative topic, and instead focused on his assignment today. His worn, old hands picked up the envelope and opened it up with the carefulness of someone handling something as delicate as a cannon made of glass. Not a tear was on the envelope when he finished opening it.

Oh, what's this? A message directly from the Inquisition?

Greetings, Inspector.

We have recently recovered a tome written by the heretic known as 'The Dark Scholar'.

The texts contained within this book are extremely heretical in nature, but also have valuable information regarding many species of Monsters, as well as Monster-related culture. As they are currently, they cannot be shown to the public as the contents often describe Monsters in a positive light, as well as blatant lies that shun the almighty Chief God into a negative one.

This propaganda cannot be allowed to stand, and we trust that you will be able to rectify these errors set by the Dark Scholar.

A page on a specific topic will be sent to you depending on our priorities. (It depends on what the readers want really, I'm willing to take requests.)

Your first assignment will be on the: 'SLIME'.

The heretical text, as well as instructions for correcting it are located on a second document in the envelope.

Cheers, and Glory to the Chief God.

- Inquisitor Alleurd.

Well, at least it's not a eviction notice.

Bazalt pondered the implications of the Inquisitor's words, scratching his beard in confusion. Not many actually knew about the Dark Scholar's existence, mainly because he was a very recent figure in the world, but also because the Order was doing its best to purge any mentions of said existence. Though the Scholar's quest to gain information on the Monsters may have been considered a noble goal, he was revealing bit too much information and would cause wide-spread controversy.

Most of Lescatie's civilian population (and many others) were given the cover story that Monsters killed and ate people, while the combat groups were told a little/a lot about the truth depending on their rank. This worked well for keeping the populace under control, but it also forced Lescatie's military to be extremely cautious when recruiting or conscripting new soldiers. It was also the reason the Order forbid any non-combatant from interacting with or even observing Monsters to minimize the risk of a civilian learning about the wonders/horrors of being mounted by a Monster.

But what really confused Bazalt was his assignment. Why in the Chief God's name (It's Ilias by the way) does the Inquisition want him to rectify the information on Slimes of all things?

Slimes were already common knowledge before he even started his new career. Each and every single Orderite was taught about Slimes since their childhood, Slimes were like the Boogeyman; 'If you're a sinful child, the Slimes will digest you in your sleep!' (It was never quite the same, actual Boogeymen went extinct three centuries ago). There were hundreds of books in Lescatie's Library regarding the different ways Slimes would take the shape of an attractive woman, and then proceed to melt anyone alive if they were stupid enough to approach. As far as Bazalt could tell, this was below his pay grade.

The Inspector then proceeded to slap himself in the face and clear his mind. The Inquisition was one of the most intelligent groups within Lescatie. They needed to be, as they were the theocracy's equivalent of a special operations team that answered to the throne and did anything without question. And Bazalt knew better than anyone (because of a non-disclosure agreement) that the Inquisition wouldn't assign him to something as low as some minor edits for an already existing article.

So, Bazalt took the second document, and began valiantly reading with his blue gem-like eyes. And...

Oh, wow.

Now it made sense. Bazalt couldn't believe his eyes, and re-read the instruction scroll several times, but the evidence was as undeniable. It seemed that Lescatie (or maybe even the entire Order) was going to make some massive reforms and change its strategy. The old Inspector picked up his pen, and began to write a draft with the enthusiasm he once had when he was but an adolescent, hoping that it would aid in the war effort.

One at a time, people would know the (mostly correct) truth about Monsters.

The New Encyclopedia of Common Monsters, [Public Edition].

Name: Slime

Danger: * * * * * (2) Stars

Kingdom: Aberrationem

Family: Slime

Species: Limus limus

Subspecies:
L. rubrum
L. bulla
L. tenebrum
L. nureonago
L. regina
L. mare
L. parasitus
L. shoggoth[citation needed]
L. ovum[citation needed]

Summary:

Limus limus or Slime are a common type of Monster[1] often found in plains, grasslands, and other rural regions. They possess blue, gelatinous bodies and will often mold themselves into the shape of attractive women to lure in victims. Due to their lack of any internal organs[note 1] however, their intelligence is heavily limited.

Slimes themselves do not actively seek out victims and instead wander aimlessly. Upon spotting a human male, the Slime will attempt to envelop the victim with their bodies until the victim is no longer able to move. The Slime will then begin to mercilessly assault the victim sexually and leech off of the victim's Spiritual Energy[2]. Since Slimes possess extremely minuscule amounts of Demonic Energy[3], they cannot immediately corrupt the victim's mind. Thus, Slimes will instead opt to continue raping the victim until their mind breaks.

Each time the victim is forced to ejaculate, the Slime will consume the Spiritual Energy and use it to grow in size. When reaching a critical mass[note 2], a small section of their body will form into a juvenile Slime. The Slime offspring will not disconnect from the main body and will leech off of the victim and grow in size. Once it has become as large as its parent, the Slime offspring will split off and either continue to subject the victim to a fate worse than death[4], or wander off to seek a victim of its own and perpetuate the cycle.

Though it is very rare, Slimes may also attack a human female and attempt to Monsterize[5] them. As previously mentioned, Slimes have a relatively low amount of Demonic Energy compared to most Monsters, and will usually take an exceptionally long time in order to corrupt the human. At the time of writing, only twenty four cases[6] of a woman getting directly and completely Monsterized by a Slime without outside interference have been documented.

Survival:

Due to their natural habitat being grassy plains, it is not uncommon for an individual to be attacked by one during a journey. In such an event, here are some methods for surviving the encounter.

1: Throw debris at the Slime.
The body of a Slime is particularly adhesive, and will stick to nearly anything that isn't the ground. Thus, throwing soil, rocks, or any sort of debris will aid you in escaping as the Slime will be too busy trying to clean itself. WARNING: This strategy may not work if the Slime is agile enough to dodge your throws.

2: Light a fire.
A Slime's body is a partially liquid substance, and will evaporate if exposed to extreme temperatures for too long. Thus, carrying a torch will usually be enough to scare away a Slime, or at least buy you enough time to escape.

3: Stay at home.
You are safe here in Lescatie. The guards and Heroes[7] will protect you from the outside.

Trivia:

Nearly all species of Slime are made of a substance known as Slime Jelly[8].

See also:

・Spencer, D (1505) "Safely distilling Slime Jelly"; How to survive slightly longer when trapped in a Demon Realm; pp 3-3.

Notes:

1. Dark Slimes possess an internal organ known as a 'Slime Core'.
2. Seven ejaculations from the average adult will usually produce enough Spiritual Energy for a Slime to reproduce.

References:

1. Azfalt, E (1473). "An introduction to humanity's enemies"; The Encyclopedia of Common Monsters Vol 1; pp 1-8.
2. Markellous, G (1483). "Regarding the life-force of all things not unholy"; The Laws of magical physics; pp 1-23.
3. Markellous, G (1483). "Regarding the life-force of all things unholy"; The Laws of magical physics; pp 24-45.
4. Azfalt, E (1473). "What IS an Incubus?"; The Encyclopedia of Common Monsters Vol 1; pp 14-17.
5. Azfalt, E (1473). "The horrors of Monsterization"; The Encyclopedia of Common Monsters Vol 1; pp 9-13.
6. ████, █ (1518). "Uncommon Monsterization Records"; Classified Documentation from Lescatie Abnormal Occurrences Committee.
7. Author unknown (13██). "The Chief God's Blessings"; Order of Holy Knights, recruitment manual Vol 2; pp 6-22.
8. Eye-Gore (1498). "Analysis of Limus limus bodily fluids"; Lescatie Alchemical Department, Monster studies Vol 1; pp 3-6.

Saster - Fractured Feels
by [Archived Account] | Siegfridge on Soundcloud

Lynnchester Gleyde was taking a stroll across an extremely dirty street. She wore a black pea coat with long sleeves that reached to her wrists and brown pants that reached to her shoes, as well as some rubbery black gloves, one of which was carrying a bag made of brown paper. The only part of her body that wasn't concealed was her face, which, despite being as clean and pristine as the rest of her body, had the eyes of someone who had once witnessed the messiest of atrocities. Her short spiky hair curved backwards, as if the wind was bending it. Despite being a bit shorter than the average adult, Lynnchester was much, much older than she looked.

The theocracy of Lescatie was split into three layers. The first layer was the 'central district' in the very middle (creative, I know), where the king and all nobles that were close to him lived in the castle. The second layer was called the 'inner district', where all the rich nobles lived in their houses made of expensive mahogany and white bricks. A wall separated the inner district from the third layer known as the 'outer district', or, as the locals called it, 'the slums'.

The reason someone like Lynnchester was walking around the slums was because she had just bought some cheap groceries, preferring them compared to the expensive ones in the inner district. She never understood what the whole deal was with nobles and their gourmet meals. Sure, sparkling spaghetti might taste better than backstreet bread, but Lynnchester always preferred something 'good enough' rather than 'perfect'.

That reminded her of the other reason she was taking a walk in this place. Lynnchester's job was to seek out heresy and brutally suppress it, and though her results weren't perfect, they were more than good enough. She once recalled that one time an idiot was attempting to smuggle in some Prisoner Fruit into the city. Long story short, that man would no longer be able to chew without help thanks to the gift Lynnchester gave to him (it was a fractured jaw).

Speaking of idiots, Lynnchester suddenly bore witness to the sight of a small but angry mob gathering around one of the entrances to the inner district. The peasants and serfs were all holding picket signs and yelling at the guards, while said guards were nervously trying to quell them. It hadn't devolved into anything violent yet, but Lynnchester had little to no faith in the people's ability to resist the bandwagon effect, and she began approaching.

She stood in the middle of the figurative line, in between the guards and the protesters. She then put her groceries on the ground and turned to the crowd. The people didn't seem to care about her, so Lynnchester decided to pull out her badge and let everyone get a good look. It was a badge signifying her service to the Inquisition, and it immediately shut everyone up in fear.

"Do I have everyone's attention?" Lynnchester said, sounding uninterested. Seeing as everyone gave her an inaudible 'yes' to her inquiry, she put the badge back into her coat and continued. "Alright then, now why don't one of you tell me why you're all harassing the guards here?"

There was a moment of silence, as many were too fearful to approach an Inquisitor of Lescatie. But one brave/foolish man stepped out of the crowd and approached Lynnchester. This man appeared to be the leader of the protest, as well as the instigator of it. Lynnchester wondered if the tears in the man's clothes were from natural damage, or caused by the giant muscles of his body. He was average in height, but it still made him half a head taller than the small Inquisitor.

"We, the serfs of Lescatie, work ourselves to exhaustion every day and night, growing food and working in the hot burning sun just so we can feed our family. And you nobles torment us with your excessive taxations! Draining all of our hard-earned coins and leaving us in the dirt!" The man stepped closer to Lynnchester and looked down at her, making their differences in height apparent. "We grow tired of your treatment of us, and we will not tolerate it any longer!"

A vein bulged in Lynnchester's forehead as her bored look became an angry one. 'So THIS is what the commotion is about?'. Here she was, thinking that it was something important, but instead she was faced with a situation that had been repeated into redundancy. She didn't know why she was surprised though, it was predictable and a part of her saw it coming a mile away.

"Oh boy, where have I heard this before?" She sarcastically said, waving her hands in air quotes. She then lowered them and spoke seriously. "Before you continue spreading your bad ideas like a disease, why don't I ask you a question." She then gestured to the guards from earlier that were still standing behind her. "You see those weapons they're holding? Those swords? Those crossbows?" She then looked back at the man. "You may see those as tools used to put down little rebellions like yours, but did you know that they served another purpose?"

There was a short silence. As the two figures engaged each other in an angry staring contest.

"No? You don't?" Lynnchester asked in a mock-confusion. "Alright then, look at that wall behind you." She pointed to the massive brown shape in the distance. That shape stretched across and all the way around the city. It was the great wall that separated the slums from the outside, and by extension, the rest of Lescatie from the outside. "The wall serves a very important purpose you see. Just like the weapons those guards have, it keeps the Monsters away." The frustration was getting more expressive on the raven-haired Inquisitor's voice. The man still had a defiant look, but doubt was manifesting on his forehead in the form of sweat. "And you know what else the wall and the weapons have in common?"

"They cost money!" She said, lurching forward and grabbing the man by the collar, something that looked quite silly considering the difference in height. The man tried to pry her arm off, but found it as stiff as metal. It seemed all those clothes she wore didn't just conceal skin, but also muscles of her own. "And where do you think all that money comes from?" Lynnchester continued, her frown twisting her clean face even further. "You!" She then shoved the man backwards and onto the ground.

"Do you even understand what the relationship is between nobles and peasants?" She stepped closer to the man, who was doing the opposite and crawling away. "Nobles don't tax you because they're assholes, they tax you so that they can afford to keep protecting you. You don't live here, You are being ALLOWED to live here!" The Inquisitor looked ready to give the man a mouth-full of broken teeth. "And guess what? Both me and the guards get real sick and tired of protecting parasites like you THAT DO NOTHING BUT COMPLAIN!"

The yell at that last part seemed to be the limit of her anger, as she stopped advancing on the cowering man and started taking deep breaths instead.

Lynnchester realized that she had caused a much bigger commotion than the protesters did, and silently backed away. Her angry face was now calm and a bit shameful. "Look, I get it, it's hard to uphold the Order's virtues of kindness on an empty stomach." She said calmly as she tiredly rubbed her temples. "But if you're gonna be angry at someone, be angry at the Monsters alright? They're the reasons we have that wall in the first place."

The Inquisitor picked up her groceries, and began walking again. She turned her head to the crowd once more, "Hey, if you guys really want to make big money, try and get into the fibre business. I heard you can sell cotton for real expensive these days."

With that, she walked off. Truthfully, she wanted to just kill all of them, but that would only encourage more rebellious tendencies.

After an unnecessarily long walk (sped up by a few teleportations), Lynncheser arrived at an extremely dark area of the royal castle.

She placed her brown bag on a dusty table and began unwrapping the inner-groceries without taking them out of the bag. She smiled at the sight of home-made bread emerging from the crude wrappings. Food was one of the small things she could appreciate, and a good way to take her mind off of any frustrations, if only temporarily. She began walking to her quarters, bread in hand (or glove in this case?). This part of the castle was very quiet, and the chance to relax was something the Inquisitor rarely got. She decided to savor the momen-

"Welcome back, Inquisitor Gleyde."

And there goes her smile.

Goretrousle [Horrortale Papyrus Theme]
by The Underground Program on Soundcloud

Lynnchester turned around, and met face-to-chest with an extremely tall man.

The man's height easily dwarfed the serf from earlier, and further exaggerated Lynnchester's short stature. Despite this, his robes still managed to somehow drag themselves on the floor. The tall figure wore a hood just as black as his robes, concealing his eyes but leaving his sinister grin visible for all to see. He wore an ornamental chain around his neck, it was made of gold, and had the holy cross of the Order hanging off of it. The tall Inquisitor's aura of intimidation and malicious intent only served to piss off the short one.

"Hey...Noit..." Lynnchester said with a less than enthusiastic tone of voice. Though her face displayed only mild annoyance, the crumbling bread in her hand told a different story about her feelings. Inquisitor Noitcelfer Alleurd didn't seem to be bothered in the slightest, and only kept smiling.

"I observed you bullying the peasants earlier. That is not the way one in power should treat their subjects." He said, more like an acknowledgement more than an accusation.

"Hmph. I don't wanna hear that coming from a sadist like you." The short Inquisitor said, taking a bite out of her remaining breadcrumbs, and then getting irritated at the fact that the rest crumbled onto the floor. And then getting more irritated at her inability to control her own temper.

Noitcelfer seemed to actually take offence at Lynnchester's words, frowning and placing his hand against his chest as if he was wounded. "Me? A sadist?" He then smiled again, lowering his hand down and ending his mock-offence. "I assure you from the deepest, darkest, depths of my heart, Lynn. I am a humanitarian, and although the needs of the nobility often prohibit me so, I do everything I can for the lower classes." He said, his words seemingly laced with honey, a contrast to the poison in Lynnchester's voice.

The raven-haired Inquisitor seemed to have given up on the poor crumbs of bread on the floor, more busy cringing at the taller one's use of the word 'humanitarian'. "Yeah, emphasis on 'human' right?" She said with air quotes, a habit she couldn't seem to get rid of. "Sure, you might act like a teddybear around normal people. But anyone who still calls you 'merciful' after seeing what you do to Monsters are just playing lip service."

Noitcelfer bent down, almost managing to lower himself to Lynnchester's height. "I can understand why others might feel uncomfortable with my actions. But they must also understand that a Monster's path to salvation is a long and arduous one. In order to remove an embedded splinter, one must go through the agonizing process of cutting through the skin and tearing the poison out. Only then can the individual be healed." He said gleefully.

"Whatever you say...sick fuck..." The short Inquisitor grumbled, briefly recalling the way Noitcelfer would noticeably 'blush' whenever he performed his...healing. "I wasn't 'bullying peasants' by the way. I was quelling a rebellion before it even began." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, that reminds me. What the fuck happened to that petition I sent for lowering the taxes? I've had to crush countless protests in the southern-outer district these last few weeks because the guards there are understaffed and clueless. And I had to do it by constantly spitting out bullshit!" Anger was beginning to flare up in the small Inquisitor. "Did no one actually understand me when I said that our kingdom is on the brink of civil war!?"

"My dear Lynnchester, everything is going be alright." The tall Inquisitor placed a hand on the short one's shoulder, in a seemingly comforting gesture. Upon feeling Noitcelfer's hands pressing into her coat however, Lynnchester's body became extremely stiff, and her spine shivered like it was a collapsing tower. In an instant, she slapped the man's hand off with enough force to create an echoing noise, while also lurching backwards and making herself look smaller, as if she was somehow trying to conceal herself more.

"Don't. Touch me."

There was a moment of silence as the two stared at each other. Lynnchester's breathing had become heavy and labored, as if she was mildly hyperventilating. A single bead of sweat leaked down her face as she held the spot where Noitcelfer had grabbed. The angry, hysterical glare she shot at him looked powerful enough to turn Medusa to stone.

"I apologize." The tall Inquisitor said, backing away and straightening himself back to his full height. "Let us go to the meeting room. There is an important address scheduled for today." Noitcelfer began walking the other direction, slowing his pace so that Lynnchester would be able to catch up. The small Inquisitor did not move for a while, but eventually, her stiff muscles slowly loosened themselves and her breathing went back to normal. Noitcelfer found her walking beside him, keeping her distance and giving him less than friendly looks.

"Regarding that petition you mentioned." The tall Inquisitor said, looking to pass the time and surgically remove the thick tension, or use anesthetics to metaphorically ease it. "Unfortunately, it was shut down very quickly, as it was deemed to be 'a filthy attempt to sabotage the holy nobility, made by greedy peasants that don't know their place'." Noitcelfer quoted, sounding slightly ashamed.

A gloved palm covered Lynnchester's face, as she deeply inhaled, before exhaling again. "Let me guess. It was the Noscrims?"

A bit more shame went into the tall Inquisitor's face, managing to get rid of his smile. "Correct. It was the Noscrims."

The Noscrims were one of the most powerful noble families in the theocracy of Lescatie, and that was made clear by the fact they even earned a spot somewhere in the royal palace. They were also the greatest example of what happens when someone is born into a position rather than earning it. For all of Noitcelfer's talks of his beliefs, there was nothing the Inquisition could really do to get rid of one who was above the law. It was Corruption at its worst.

A cynical chuckle came out of the short Inquisitor's mouth, which devolved into a groan. "Ugghh... I spent so much time writing that... I even bothered to phrase things in ways that made it sound like I was kissing their asses. They probably didn't even bat an eye to the statistics." Lynnchester lamented at the fact that the Noscrims weren't going to be subjected to the cruel fate of 'being forced to eat something a little cheaper than usual'.

If there was one good thing came out of that family however, it was Wilmarina Noscrim. Young and inexperienced as she was, Wilmarina was known to be literally the most powerful hero in the entire city of Lescatie, some even believing her strong enough to one day destroy the Demon Lord. Another positive aspect was her personality. Wilmarina seemed to genuinely believe in her duty and goals as a hero, and as far as witness reports go, she never once hesitated when killing a Monster. In Lynnchester's eyes, Wilmarina seemed very promising.

"Well, there is news that I believe will be able to balance out the negativity." Noitcelfer said, his mouth twisting back into a grin again. "In regards to the Dark Scholar's actions, it was agreed upon by many noble families, including the Noscrims, that it would be counterproductive in the long run to continue the disinformation campaign."

Lynnchester raised an eyebrow.

The tall Inquisitor continued. "Thus, reforms have been put into place. Though it may come as a shock to many, it will be necessary for the people of Lescatie to know the harsh truth of the Monsters." He didn't say anything more, as he knew the short Inquisitor would have likely gotten the idea by now.

"Huh, well I'll be damned." Lynnchester said, genuinely baffled that Lescatie's nobility still had enough brain-power to perform such a strategic action. Her voice temporarily lost its pessimistic edge, and her mouth now normalized into a neutral expression. "What's next, the Noscrims start treating their daughter like a human being?"

"Er..." Noitcelfer made an awkward noise consisting of doubt.

"Okay, yeah, that's never gonna happen." Lynnchester admitted.

[Undertale: Last Breath] Menu Theme
by SANSational on Soundcloud

Salvador Provat marched across the halls of one of Lescatie's cathedrals, the equal mix of excitement and anxiety seemed to balance each other out, leaving him with a feeling of serenity.

"Thank you for coming today, Sir Salvador." A nun said. "Most of the Heroes today were already assigned to other matters, and you were the only one available in this region of Lescatie. We hope it won't be an inconvenience for you."

Salvador assured the nun that there wouldn't be a problem. He continued his walk, the metal plates in his armor shifting around and making shackling noises.

Salvador's presence had been requested by the Order for a 'very important' assignment. The exact nature of this assignment wasn't revealed to him until he arrived, at which point a very tall Inquisitor informed him of Lescatie's decision to uplift the disinformation campaign. It was something that greatly surprised Salvador, as he recalled Lescatie's nobility to be some of the most stubborn things in the world (even more stubborn than some of the Monsters). Regardless, his job for today was to reveal the depraved truth of Monsters to the local populace of this specific cathedral.

Though the people would be told the truth, the Order didn't want to cause a mass panic either, and thus the strategy would be to inform the population one church at a time. This slow process would ensure that if a riot started, it could easily be contained.

Salvador stepped onto a pedestal, and by extension, in front of a large gathering. The people mainly consisted of civilians and low-ranking nobles, but there were also a dozen nuns and a few priests. The main room of the cathedral was massive, with hundreds of chairs lining the praying areas and a large chandelier hanging from above, gold glittering and glistening and glistering.

The holy knight took off his helmet and revealed his visage. His face was aged with bits of hair turned grey, a few scars and even burn marks were visible, it was the face of a veteran. He began speaking about the Monsters that constantly plagued humanity, using their false beauty to tempt any weak willed individuals and devour them should they approach, and using brute force to acquire their prey should the previous method not work.

He then told them that while the Monsters also spread corruption and dissent within humanity, it was not in the way the people thought.

Rather than the annoyed sneers that usually met his way when wasting the time of nobles, Salvador's introduction was greeted with patience and genuine curiosity.

Taking this as encouragement, Salvador elaborated on what he meant.

He explained that the lustful bodies that Monsters possessed weren't mere illusions that were used to lure men into their gaping maws. The attractive bodies that Monsters possessed, were in fact, used for copulation. The evil lied in the Demonic Energy they produced. He explained that Demonic Energy would corrupt a victim's soul, and slowly wipe their minds away until nothing remains of their personality, only to then replace it with a foul mockery that has the victim's memories. He continued to describe in great detail of how no matter how devoted a man was in his faith, laying with a Monster for long enough would end up in the man abandoning the holy virtues of the Chief God, forsaking the Order and becoming a depraved creature that lives only to pleasure its captor. A man turned into an Incubus would no longer even think of the concept of escape, should the opportunity present itself.

Confusion was already apparent among the gathering, and the guards began tensing up as they strengthened their grips on their weapons. Nothing extreme had happened though, and Salvador had plenty of faith in the people's ability to remain civil, and so he waited patiently.

After the dissent had calmed down, Salvador continued to explain the nature of corruption and Monsterization, as well as his own experiences in the field. He had personally witnessed civilians and comrades alike being Monsterized before his eyes, tentacles and claws bursting out of their skin, with their newfound personalities not even allowing them to be horrified by their own appearance, instead only seeking to spread it to others. Salvador had to put down many of them, but no amount of mercy-killing disturbed him as much as the first time he encountered a Sabbath outpost, where men were laying with girls as young as...

His speech continued for Chief God knows how long, and a part of him realized that his throat would give out and stop producing noise should he continue preaching. So once he found a good point to stop at, he pulled out a collection of books from his armor and placed them on the table. How he managed to store those books in metal armor is a mystery the author won't bother explaining because it is irrelevant to the plot and I am lazy.

These books were manuals and guides given to Order soldiers when they get recruited into the military, and for the purposes of this day they were being used to further verify/intensify Salvador's claims. He heard that there was a public version currently being made, but it seemed that it hadn't been published yet.

Regardless, seeing as how the people were now getting distracted by the mountain of literature, Salvador retreated from the room to lick the metaphorical wounds in his throat.

The general rule of thumb was that the closer an individual was to the center of Lescatie, the richer said person will usually be. The cathedral that Salvador was currently in was very far from the center, and very close to the outer district, and thus the people around this area tended to be a lot more modest than the average noble, some were even peasants that managed to gain enough money for entry.

As a result, Salvador wasn't really surprised at the underwhelming reactions, given that the amount of zealotry expected of an Orderite would get toned down depending on how far they were from the center of the city. A part of him suspected that some of them already knew, as most peasants would have had more than enough opportunities to look through a crack on the great wall.

The Order Hero walked through the halls once more, a bit tired from the preaching he did.

It was the first time he ever got to tell the lower classes about the atrocities committed by the Monsters, and a part of him would have felt a weight being lifted from his shoulders if it weren't for his heavy armor. Another part of him was especially nervous, seeing as he may have made himself look a bit too zealous for the tastes of modest civilians, and by extension cause a lot more skepticism, but that's what those books were for.

His thoughts were cut off by the tall hooded figure in front of him.

"Hello again, mister Provat." The Inquisitor said, wearing a gentle smile.

Salvador returned the greeting, mirroring the smile as the tall figure began walking beside him.

Noitcelfer was the one who had informed Salvador of his assignment. Supposedly, the Inquisitor needed to teleport several times in order to arrive here, something that amazed Salvador greatly as he had never heard of someone with enough power to arrive from the castle all the way to the inner district within a day, let alone via unassisted teleporting. Someone with that much Spiritual Energy would have made an amazing Hero if they were to be combined with the Chief God's blessing.

But he quickly shook those thoughts off like they were annoying fleas. Noitcelfer was too kind-hearted to be a Hero, and Salvador doubted the saint to even be capable of harming a fly, let alone a Monster. It was quite a shame really, he saw many merciful Heroes hesitate before striking down a Monster, often resulting in them being caught off guard were it not for their comrades standing close by.

"So, did it go well, Sir Salvador?" Noitcelfer asked, sounding genuinely curious. Though Salvador knew that Noitcelfer was probably watching his speech from the shadows, the Order Hero decided humor the Inquisitor and told him that only time would tell, the people had free will and needed to choose their destinies themselves after all.

"That is good to hear." The Inquisitor replied, smiling in understanding. "Though I must say, you sounded a bit doubtful when you said that corrupted humans were irredeemable. Is something troubling you, Sir Salvador?" The cloaked man's tone was not accusatory, he waited patiently for the knight to reply.

Salvador gulped, a bit of shame accumulating in his face (not that Noitcelfer could see through the helmet). He admitted that it still pained him knowing that his comrades couldn't be saved, and that even his faith would occasionally waver from sadness and remorse. He would be lying if he said he didn't want to at least try to find a cure to Monsterization.

"Have you taken the time to mourn yet?" Noitcelfer said, no longer smiling. "Repressed emotions can lead to sin and unnecessary tragedy. I understand that a Hero's duties come before anything else, but if you have the time to spare, then I recommend quietly letting your feelings out."

Salvador understood what the Inquisitor meant when he said 'quietly'. The repression of instinctual desires was a virtue the Order took great pride in, as venting out emotions foolishly would often result in the unfortunate spouting of heresy (ones that were obviously not meant, but could easily be interpreted as genuine). The Order Hero swallowed his breath again, and assured the Inquisitor that he would think about it. At that moment however, the two came across an intersection within the halls of the cathedral that split into two paths, one that led outside, and one that led to a deeper area in the cathedral.

"It seems this is where we part ways for now, mister Provat." The hooded figure's voice held a tinge of disappointment. "I presume you will be returning to your home?" The Inquisitor inquired.

As much as Salvador wanted to see how the people would develop in regards to the truth of the Monsters, Salvador had equally pressing matters back at his home that prevented him from doing so. Another pressing topic however was something he hadn't noticed before, it was the strange bag that the Inquisitor was carrying.

"Oh, this?" Noitcelfer lifted the bag up, revealing coins of gold and silver shuffling around inside. "I am planning to donate this to an orphanage after I finish my duties here. Though it's not much, anything helps for an orphanage run in the slums."

Salvador nodded in understanding. The two Orderites went their ways.

Salvador arrived at his home, and closed all the windows. Locked them even.

He approached a trapdoor that lead to his basement. It was an entrance hidden under a rug hidden under a bookshelf weighed down by hundreds of books, hidden by blending in with ten other identical bookshelves in the room.

After the Order hero made sure that absolutely no one was following him, he quietly closed the bookshelf behind himself and entered the trapdoor.

Finally arriving at the basement, Salvador was greeted with a sight that always made him frown no matter how many times he witnessed it.

Undertale - Megalovania Piano Arrangement
by ChrystalChameleon on Youtube

It was a woman clad in white robes, often seen on a mage that specialized in healing. Her arms were chained and lifted up in a constant 'banzai' position, though her hands drooped downwards and dangled. A golden cross was engraved into the chest area of her clothes, typical of an Order hero. Looking below the waist, one would first assume the white mass to be a part of her robes, but if one were to look closer, they would notice the slimy and gelatinous texture of the dress, as well as the several pink tentacles emerging through it, the fabric of the robes somehow dripping off of them. Each one of the tentacles were also chained onto the floor.

In each corner of the room, there was a tall pole sticking out of the floor. On the very top of each pole, there was a holy cross made of gold, with decorations resembling white feathers. In the middle of each cross was a glowing white crystal that constantly shimmered and radiated with Spiritual Energy. These were Suppression Wards, often used by the Order in order to slow down the spread of Demonic Energy. And in rare circumstances, used for retaking lost territory.

The woman lifted her face up, displaying a pristine and untouched visage that should have by all accounts grown dirty by the terrible environment of the room. Her eyes and long hair were formerly colorless and black, but now had a pinkish-red tinge to them.

"Hey Sal." Her weak voice came out, with a sad smile.

Salvador did not reply, and began replacing the Suppression Wards with new ones. They wouldn't last another month near her.

A common practice among the Order's military was to have soldiers work in pairs of opposite genders, with the benefits of each one compensating for the flaws of the other. The women would stop the men from succumbing to the charms of a Monster, and the men would prevent the women from getting Monsterized from ambient Demonic Mana via their own ambient production of Spirit Energy. It also allowed the soldiers to get attached to each other and work more efficiently.

"How was...work today?" She asked him tiredly, as he began using a wash cloth to scrub the Demonic Energy from the chains. He would have to replace them eventually, but washing would do for now. Such powerful chains strong enough to restrain a hero were very uncommon.

Charlotte Desesperanza was the one Salvador was pared up with. Their relationship started out as a professional one, but the extended moments of teamwork allowed them to get closer to each other, and to depend on each other. Neither admitted it, but they could both feel something brewing between them.

Salvador brought a plate full of fruits, and a cup full of water near her mouth. She didn't hesitate and chewed slowly, feeling the apples and grapes to be dull-flavored due to their lack of any Spiritual Energy. Her eyes darted up for a moment, seeing a tear leak down Salvador's cheek as he gently poured water into her mouth.

One day, their orders had been hijacked by Monsters, resulting in the squad heading in the wrong direction. Towards a tentacle forest. They normally fared well against ambushes, but given that they were trying to carry out their 'orders' to destroy the tentacle forest, being caught off guard wasn't the only reason they couldn't fight very well.

He got a bucket full of water alongside his sponge and washcloth, taking turns between scrubbing off slime from her lower region and dipping the sponge in the cleansing liquid. It took quite a while, and the woman shifted and moaned whenever he accidentally stimulated her. He didn't have to worry about the Demonic Energy inside the gunk, that's what Lescatie's sewers were for. Eventually, all the slime was washed off and...

They fought with everything they had, even when a few of their members were snatched by the forest, even when it looked like all hope was lost, they fought hard and long enough that the Monsters actually gave up.

There they were. Charlotte's legs, her real legs, her human legs. Perhaps it was symbolic, that somewhere deep down, underneath all that Demonic Energy, something of Charlotte's original personality remained. His temporary hope though was just that, temporary. Peaking at the tentacles emerging from her...womb, Salvador was reminded that no matter how many times he cleaned off the gunk, the Roper tentacles would always secrete more and cover it back up again.

While they were able to rescue most of their team from the forest, there was one who couldn't be saved in time. Charlotte.
A Roper parasite had been implanted in her womb, and it was already bursting out tentacles by the time Salvador arrived.

Looking back at her face, Salvador noticed something about it. It was beautiful, but there was something wrong with it.

Early infections could be stopped with a group effort. Each person would tug on a tentacle, and together they would be able to rip the parasite out, it left the woman's womb damaged, but it was a better fate than letting the seed fester.
Salvador wasn't granted that luxery. Full Roper transformations normally required the intake of Spiritual Energy to be complete, but the Demonic Energy within the tentacle forest had already nullified such a need. No matter how hard his comrades pulled, it only caused Charlotte more pain. The merging was already complete, and killing the parasite at that point would cause Charlotte to go down with it.

No, there was nothing wrong with her face, and that was the problem. Normally, the Demonic Energy would warp one's mind enough to not care, but thanks to the nature of the room, he could see clearly that Charlotte's skin lacked any of the subtle flaws that a human tended to have. Her perfectly symmetrical visage triggered the effect of the uncanny valley within his brain, a defense mechanism developed through generations by humans in order to make them avoid anyone who was sick. She looked more disturbing than beautiful.

His comrades gave him some privacy, to let him say farewell before putting Charlotte down. But that night, Salvador did something that he knew was wrong.
It only added to his shame when the others believed his words and gave their 'condolences'.

"Turn me in, Sal...I don't want to be...a burden to you..."

That night, he silently begged the Chief God for forgiveness. Forgiveness for his foul selfishness.

No, he wouldn't let her be executed. Salvador would keep protecting her and find a way to reverse her condition. He would wait until the day grey hair would start falling out of his skull in order to fix her. There has to be a way to heal her. It's what he wanted to believe.

It's what he had to believe.

Remember citizens, to be righteous, pure, and uphold the Order's virtues at all times.
The Order values:
Objectivity,
Courtesy,
Civility,
Fairness,
and Consent.

Welcome to Lescatie. You are safe here.

Author's Note: Alright, Hate-fic's started, tell me what you think.

Once again, this is a story that portrays the Monster Girls as evil and the Order as good (AND IT TAKES PLACE BEFORE THE SOFT RETCONS, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT). If you don't like it, stop reading or post an angry/disappointed review, I don't mind either way. That being said, constructive criticism is appreciated as well. I want to improve my writing if it's shitty.

(By the way, if you're bothering to listen to the music I set up, you'll notice that all Order-aligned characters have Sans & Papyrus related songs. This is intentional for lore reasons).