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Author's Note: The following few chapters are not, strictly speaking, necessary to the plot. The core story of Rekka no Ken will resume again in Chapter 11: A New Beginning. These Interludes mostly involve what happens in the intervening year.
Interlude 1: Wiseman
"Sprite... recall..." Wiseman half-whispered to himself, activating the set spell hidden in the charm he wore around his neck. As the castle around him faded into darkness, he smiled to himself. He thought he'd done a rather good job of playing human, if he did say so himself. Between appearing in Lundgren's chambers fourteen months ago and corrupting him to the point of rebellion, it had been an eventful life. Yes, he'd been forced to let some things pass him, but who would have been able to guess where allowing the fool to send weapons to the bandits in the north would lead? It had seemed a harmless enough ploy at first. More death, more quintessence to be released for the master.
If only he'd known that it would lead to this. His own near-death at the hands of that devil swordwoman and the forseen one, and the failure of his pawn.
But it mattered not. He would try again. The secondary paw would suffice, he supposed, though Darin had fewer motivations. It could be as much as ten months before he was even convinced of the need to go to war... perhaps Helman would be a better choice, but no, while he would be easy to break he had no substance to carry him through.
"Wiseman." The cold voice brought him back to reality as he looked around the sanctuary. "The master has already heard of your failure."
"Ephidel. You told him, I assume? It is not failure, merely a setback." Wiseman replied smoothly, throwing his hood back as he turned to face the other morph and ignoring the now dry hole in his chest. Ephidel was more attractive than him, though perhaps that was to be expected. The younger Morph was, after all, a newer model, more perfected.
"Whatever your words, it has been deemed that you have outlived your usefulness. The quintessence required to repair your failing body has been deemed too high a price. You are relieved of your duties." Ephidel told him in that same cold, emotionless voice. The younger morph had not been given the capacity to pretend to be human, Wiseman realised.
"Who is to replace me?" He asked. He would prove that he was better.
"I am." Ephidel told him. As it looked at the older morph, Ephidel felt contempt. Wiseman had become too human, believing that he would have a chance to survive. Even as it stepped forward and placed its hands on Wiseman's cheeks and started to drain the older morph's remaining energy, even as he gave a humanlike scream of agony as the energy was drawn forth to reduce him to a drying husk, then a pile of ingredients... even as it did these things, Ephidel swore to itself... it would not make Wiseman's mistake.
As the final dust fell from the emptied morph's robes, Ephidel smiled to himself. No. He would not make Wiseman's mistakes. Pulling his hood over his head, the corruptor prepared to teleport to Lahus.