Arknights: Pilgrimage of Eternity

by Tall-Gothic-Guy

Hero of Minos. Champion of Sargon. Intruder of Siracusa. Dancer of Iberia. Guest of Aegir. Retriever of Laterano. Challenger of Kazdel. Exile of Yan. Advisor of Higashi. Ripper of Victoria. Speaker of Gaul. Minister of Bolivar. Pioneer of Columbia. Scholar of Kjerag. Tracker of RIM Billiton. Teacher of Leithania. Murderer of Kazimierz. Shaman of Sami. And today, the Bane of Ursus.

2. Agreed by Theresa

Buldrokkas'tee hid his unease expertly behind his helm and his power armor, which had now been fully repaired to peak condition, and amazingly so despite the severe lack of necessary resources needed that would only be found in the Ursus military workshops to maintain something as advanced as the heavy power armor built solely for a Wendigo's build. It's only possible thanks to Jacob's 'ownership' of it by technicality, the Chimera's strange Miracles capable of such and more.

And the Chimera has been fixated on the Wendigo since the last 4 days, eyes of mismatched colors firmly locked onto a barrier full of Ursunium protection and through it, boring deep into his hardened flesh, as if an enigma had just grown on Buldrokkas'tee's body like a second head or even a long tail.

The pair have been making a terror on the Ursus patrols that ever ventured into the Tundra North, and every encounter ends in a massacre. To the Ursus high command, every single company and squad sent out either mysteriously disappear in the snow or come back terrified and completely traumatized, incapable of returning to military service or civilian life.

A new reputation took over the hulking beast that roamed the Tundra and guarded the miserable Infected, now joined with the discovery of Buldrokkas'tee the Patriot fighting alongside him, the two gaining the reputation among the high command and the civilians as the fierce guardians of the Infected and living terrors of the Ursus military.

As far as Buldrokkas'tee could remember, they have liberated so many Infected from the concentration camps and survived every single assault squad that came after them both for the last few years, a mixture of brilliant tactics and an endless number of Jacob's slaves serving as efficient soldiers that could follow complex plans, achieving victory time after time.

In addition, the Chimera's temperament had simmered over the years. His sullen anger and hatred had calmed, making way for a neutral and professional demeanor to take over, and eventually it grew into an amiable and friendlier personality, almost as if the idea of them being friends again was beginning to be a probable prospect.

And it did. Jacob had already developed the habit of patting Buldrokkas'tee's shoulder or greeting him every morning.

For what reason would the Chimera stare at him like this?

"Jacob." After almost a fortnight of having never spoken to each other, having been depleted of any conversation nor interesting topic to fill in the silence, Buldrokkas'tee decided to take the initiative himself. "Why do you stare at me like that? Has been my performance lately dissatisfying you? Or perhaps I have sinned against you in some way that I did not realize?"

Sat across him atop an unmelting pile of snow with the bonfire burning brightly in-between them, Jacob answered lowly without looking away, "No." Having shifted into the shape of a tall human, his hooves, long tail, multiple horns and draconic hands remaining unchanged, the Chimera spoke through his mouth, "Buldrokkas'tee, are you alright?"

Buldrokkas'tee's helmet twitched up to meet his gaze in confusion. He briefly took a mental check on himself before he will reply. So far, he's extremely healthy and fit, well-fed and well-rested, and any miraculous injury caused by an extremely lucky foe that managed to bypass all of his armor and protection don't seem to last for more than an hour, mysteriously disappearing and practically nonexistent. "Yes. I am well and good. Thanks to your charitable care, I hardly feel starved or overworked. And my armor feels as if like skin to me now, only possible to the Miracles you've casted upon it that made it light like air. Why do you ask, Jacob?"

Jacob's hum almost sounded like a quaking growl upon the world, "That is true. It's only right that I reward you with this much for your works. It feels as if my burden lightened in the Tundra, knowing that I have you by my side. To assure me that I'm not alone and that I have someone to speak with as I remain away from the haven."

"And I am ever thankful, Jacob." Buldrokkas'tee nodded gratefully, sincere and unguarded, "And kindly heed my sincerity as I say that I am honored to earn your thoughts of my presence taking part in your endeavors."

Jacob nodded in acknowledgement, "But I doubt it's the physical part of you that's concerning me..."

The Chimera trailed off, curious and ever-analytical eyes of white and red practically seeing into the Wendigo's core, trying to see what's troubling his mind. Buldrokkas'tee patiently sat still, letting his employer take it all in and ready to comply to any command he gives if it ever arises, familiar with Jacob's deliberate and immediate action to anything he deems of even the slightest significance. As experience could tell, it comes back being relevant days or years later.

Then Jacob stood up from his snowy hill of a seat, cloven hooves walking around the campfire and bringing him before the seated Wendigo's front, looking at each other within eye-level thanks to the temporary height-difference between them.

Draconic hands reached forward, "I'm going to take off your helm, Buldrokkas'tee. Bear with me."

"As you wish." The Wendigo wondered if it's because of his helmet. Was it damaged in some way? Did the Chimera overlook something during his last maintenance of it?

Buldrokkas'tee sat patiently, practically as unmoving as a statue while bearing with the bolts and locks being unlatched one by one, loosening its tight but comfortable fit into his horned head. The Chimera's hunting eyes never strayed their pinpointed aim away from him.

With the last of the latches coming off and a preceding hydraulic hiss, Jacob gently lifted it up, careful not to snag it with the Wendigo's horns. Buldrokkas'tee released a long sigh as the cold of the Tundra met the exposed upper half of his head, tempting him to shake his gnarled prongs or run a hand through his short-cut hair of black. He resisted the urge, remaining at attention before his employer.

Rather than look at the helmet, Jacob is still boring his questioning eyes deep into the Wendigo's own, maintaining his hold on the helm before his chest with the front facing its owner while his orbs steadily began to see clarity.

Buldrokkas'tee counted down.

4...

...3

...2

"Ah."

The Wendigo idly declared a new record in his head as the Chimera quickly found the issue quicker than last time. Though, Buldrokkas'tee felt a slight worry when the Chimera's countenance held a grimace. It could be his eyes tricking him but he saw traces of concern in his eyes as well. But for what?

"Buldrokkas'tee, I'm going to ask you questions."

The Wendigo's reply is automatic, "And I will answer without dishonesty."

Jacob frowned, "Are you always this articulate, even before we met or are you merely this way because of your labor?"

"The former. My kind are, in my unbiased and unfiltered opinion, a barbaric and vicious tribe of Sarkaz, perhaps moreso than some others due to our practices and our strong culture of warfare. I strove to be better, to be more than my lineage. Though I detested most of my races customs, especially the disgusting ritual of cannibalizing the dead...in spite of the destruction that came upon my heart...I failed to hold on to such standards—"

"So you ate Helen."

Buldrokkas'tee gritted his teeth as he looked down. Even though he defers greatly to the Chimera now, the latter's impossibly accurate deductions never fail to sting like the most venomous tails of manticores. It could have been anyone else—literally anyone else—he didn't even give the slightest clue about any specifics, and Jacob cleanly struck on the correct name without any hesitation or doubt.

He couldn't resist the urge to clench his fists, his body almost stiffening in protest of this sudden torrent of hurt emotions and unwanted recollections, "But I—"

"No."

The Wendigo fell silent, fully realizing the display he's giving off, showing dissatisfaction and negativity that contradict the terms of the transaction between him and his employer. He stiffened, awaiting the lash that's coming.

"Calm down, Buldrokkas'tee." His eyes widening in shock, Buldrokkas'tee slowly raised his head up and was met with a look of pure understanding from the Chimera's countenance. The latter barely moved his body in the slightest since holding the Wendigo's helm, "I will not judge you nor should you need to explain yourself. You had your reasons, and I knew them long ago, as much as I disagreed with them. You have a well, overflowing to the brim with nothing but love, and you selflessly gave it all to your wife and son. I was married before, and I will surrender everything for the sake of my family's happiness. Even if you did violate your principles, I will not question your love for Helen. Never."

...

For the first time since his employment, the Wendigo is finally reacquainted with the endless well of warmth and charity he had always associated the Chimera with. For so long since the last 5 years, he had long thought that he had forever deprived himself from it ever since the sin of killing his own son and ignoring the pleas of a friend that would have prevented it, doomed to the prospects of being nothing more than an accessory to Jacob's pilgrimage, given only the bare necessities and nothing more. Or even perhaps nothing at all. He thought that even idle conversation would never grace him, much less be provided with miracles and implements that improve his performance on his duties. He was prepared to bear with every hardship, to slave away as penance for all his sins.

But looking back on the years as a servant, the Chimera had continued to give, regardless of what transpired prior to their transaction. Even when he was sullen and angry, Jacob paid attention to Buldrokkas'tee's wellbeing and his equipment, taking action without even needing to be asked: keeping him fed, and during his kindest days, indulging him to conversation, exchanging regaling tales of each other's greatest prides, and even celebrating his birthday.

Buldrokkas'tee had dared to see it as a mere formality to their relationship, but now he will be found dead before he even thinks of questioning the Chimera's kindness when the latter would not even question the former's love for his wife and child.

Jacob never withheld that well of kindness, he merely waited for the time to pull up the bucket and give.

The Wendigo bowed his head deeply, genuinely humbled at the realization of it all. And his eyes wept openly, sincere and soaking into the cloth that covered his mouth and nose. "Thank you."

The Chimera grunted in gruff acknowledgement, the sound carrying the hint of dismissiveness at his emotional state, as if slightly annoyed that Buldrokkas'tee is realizing this now.

Once the tears have dried and he gathered himself together, Buldrokkas'tee sat up straighter and regarded his employer properly, feeling a sense of stability in his core that he hadn't known for years.

Jacob appeared remarkably pleased at his display, or maybe at his recovered state. Not even he could tell, "Buldrokkas'tee, do you feel accomplished with your labor?"

Now the Wendigo is left with even more confusion.

Buldrokkas'tee could not help uttering, "What?"

"There is no joy in you when you assume the duties I set for you."

"No." The Wendigo's reply came out automatically, "You are mistaken, Jacob. I do not protest my duties because I believe in the good they'll bring than I could have set for myself. It is not that I do not feel pride—"

"You do not feel pride with our accomplishments." The Chimera continued, as if he did not hear. "You only feel proud when I proud. You do not feel proud for yourself."

"You're wrong!" Buldrokkas'tee caught himself from sounding too strong for his employer's liking. "That is not true. Even you would know so much more than me, Jacob. Have I not shared plans with you that could save more of our Infected kin than you could with your slaves alone? Have I not shown you promise in the terms I've set in my labor? To serve you with a willing heart? How could I betray you as to not be proud of our—your works?"

Despite the pleas he let out with a passion he had not expressed in a long time, the Chimera seemed to not hear, practically staring at an unspeaking rock.

The latter's mismatched eyes did not waver away from meeting his gaze, even as he continued to accuse, "You do not feel fulfilled even if we saved many from the tortures of Ursus' wickedness."

Buldrokkas'tee was about to risk his entire body being crushed again, preparing for a full tirade to prove such claims as false...

But the Chimera had a hand raised up and then slowly curled the fingers into a fist, barely giving the Wendigo a start. His outburst was easily predicted, it seems.

"I'm asking you, Buldrokkas'tee. Do you feel any joy with what you're doing for the Infected? I do not ask that in relation to the duties you have. I ask that in relation to you, personally."

Buldrokkas'tee was caught silent, unsure of how to respond to such a question.

"When you save others from tyranny or even gave your cloak to a shivering child days ago, do you, personally, feel as if you have done something worthy of praise? As if you have ensured a future for somebody that would have lost it?"

...

"When you do these things, do you perform them as if to intend for the right thing to do? Or are you simply thinking of them as merely duties that are related to my endeavors? Regardless of either one, do you feel any pride in doing so? Pride for yourself? Have you ever felt as if you have given something so selflessly and generously without regret or wishing for a reward, feeling nothing but joy, as if no reward in the world would ever compare to the warmth you'd feel for doing so? As if that even if it wasn't your duty to do so, you would still do it because it is right?"

...Buldrokkas'tee had no answer.

No, it's more as if the Wendigo couldn't hope to process one so clearly, especially with all these questions causing turbulence in his thoughts. It's so confusing.

He personally does not feel joy for doing his duties? He doesn't feel any sort of fulfilling accomplishment but merely a job well done as the Chimera deems it so? How could that be? He genuinely feels pride in every duty assumed and accomplished, especially with effectiveness that brings delight to Jacob.

He is a tactical genius, one so consulted by even those of ranks higher than him, capably thinking of solutions, strategies, formations and contingencies so quickly and effectively that any company under his command would only know victory and nothing more, even in the most desperate of battles.

And now here he is, cornered, unsure of what his employer is trying to say to him. What could cause Jacob to doubt him like this?

"Hmph." Jacob harrumphed, having apparently settled something in his thoughts while Bukdrokkas'tee pondered. "Hold still." He reached forward to place the Wendigo helm back to its wearer.

While the locks and bolts are reattached, making sure that it fits tightly but comfortably as his Miracles allow, the Chimera continued, "Buldrokkas'tee, you have served me well during the 5 years of your tenure, and I am indeed full of pride and joy in your works. You fulfill every part of the terms you've set for yourself with satisfying results. Accomplishment after accomplishment, I can feel more than enough meaning in the things we do. I used to believe that I'm not changing anything with my works, but you give me possibilities. Your council is much more valuable than you think."

Buldrokkas'tee remained silent, awaiting what's about to come from such a torrent of commendations.

Once the last latch is slotted and the hydraulic mechanism fitted the helm tightly to his head, Jacob stepped back, "Therefore, I deem it fit for you to be left out of my supervision for the time being. And in that time, you are to act as you deem to see fit."

"What?" The Chimera is already walking away, around the campfire and kicking his snow hill back to the flat white ground, and he continued walking without pause. "What do you mean, Jacob?" Buldrokkas'tee asked in even deeper confusion.

"It is not a sabbath to your labors, mind you." Jacob not-answered, "You will still fill the days remaining in your tenure, but this time, I will not be present in the next plan of action. What comes next is not up to me. You will decide, and I will not agree, deny or adjust to whatever you will conjure. It's all up to you and I will not be present."

In other words, he can now be trusted to perform his regular duties by himself now that he's perfectly familiar with what they are. For the last 5 years, it has always been them together. Though Buldrokkas'tee doesn't fear any failure in independent work, he has grown too used to the Chimera's company. Being suddenly left by himself was a whiplash he couldn't quickly settle into his mind.

Buldrokkas'tee took a deep breath, then exhaled. He looked at the Chimera's shifting form, his human body gaining mass and height in every distance gained, "I understand. Where will you be?"

"To see about a Sarkaz that I've been neglecting for the last decades that number by a dozen and more." As the Wendigo blinked, Jacob suddenly disappeared from sight. An occurrence that's happened with enough regularity before his desertion that Buldrokkas'tee isn't baffled by it anymore, including the last few words somehow reaching his ears. "Only time will decide whether this guarantees a step forward to my Pilgrimage or not."

And just like that, Buldrokkas'tee is by himself for the first time in his half-finished term. Even with 50 of the Chimera's minions nestling in the nearby forests to hide themselves, they hardly ever serve as much as speaking companions as they are extremely good at killing in formation.

---

The young man heard the crunching of snow that wouldn't be possible to exist in his location unless they are his own feet, bringing him out of the world brought by the book he's reading. He's sitting on hallowed ground, a label taken seriously by the Adams and Eves that guard this place jealously. No resident in the Haven is ever welcome, including those that are welcome to the meeting table.

The only other resident besides himself that has unrestricted access to it is Hanina, and her bare feet are light in step, quiet and somehow able to step across a thick layer of snow without sinking an inch downwards as if it were hard ground, even if she hefted 10 tots on her back.

Which means...

The man leapt up from his seat on the wide stairs, looking excitedly ahead of him. Pinpointing the location of that rhythmic crunching sound on the snow, he waited for something to appear through the white haze of the snowing weather, and once he saw the faint, gigantic figure that towered over everyone else in the Haven approach besides himself, he quickly ran towards the person and was met chest to chest with a torso full of fluffy fur, his hands wrapping around a massive frame.

He rested his chin on the muscular shoulder, smiling, tightening his embrace, "Uncle Jacob, you're back!"

The delighted groan of an Aslan throat graced his ears and rumbled his head, muscular draconic arms wrapping around his similarly-tall but slimmer frame and threatening to squeeze the oxygen out of his lungs. And the familiar phantom voice came through, "My dear boy. How long has it been?"

"5 years." He answered, drawing back from the embrace and looking back at the graceful visage of a lion that looked at him with great fondness, "And my goodness, 5 years! How could you be away for 5 years!? What devilry did Ursus conjure that the mighty Chimera has been held back from visiting his loved ones for such a time?"

"As you know—"

"MY LOOOOOOOOOOOO—"

The young man chuckled, stepping back in case the larger giant falls over. "Here come's your beloved."

"—OOOOOOOVE!"

A lashing tail and pattering feet came along that impassioned call as it got closer and closer. He saw the swamp green halo, the shapely horns, and a blazing auburn fire before Hanina's arms came around the towering Chimera's bushy neck, her long milky legs wrapping around his chest before her white tail wrapped around her midsection.

Jacob didn't budge an inch from the impact despite the known speed Hanina was capable of, especially when she's excited. Instead, he pulled the girl over his shoulder, flipped her around to face him, sickle-shaped Sankta wings pointed back, and squeezed her to his chest, all four of her limbs and tail swiftly wrapping around him once again before he accepted a very passionate kiss that met his snout as she grabbed his cheeks.

The young man huffed and grunted at the sight.

Drawing back from the kiss with a loud pop, the tailed Sankta crumpled every part of the mane she could grab, drinking the sensation so greedily that she threatened to crush the chest of her beloved with her legs if she could, "Oh, I've practically died in the years without you here! I just couldn't stand merely listening to your voice everyday when I cannot even hold you."

"Yes." So dryly, Jacob replied her, so used to such needy claims. She said something similar many years ago, she'll have a different iteration next time just like before, "Desperately so that you've practically stolen the role of so many parents to care for their infants just to cope with my physical absence."

"And she nearly babied me too." The young man added, grabbing his upturned collar and adjusting it to ease the impact of such an unpleasant memory. "It's one thing to be spoiled, it's another thing to be literally spoiled rotten. I felt like a noble under her care, with everything served to me upon my beck and call—I felt utterly useless as a human being!"

Hanina threw her upper body backwards, looking at the tall boy behind her upside down with a squinted eye. Subsequently, her long hair of flame as well as her poncho fell upwards and exposed her naked top to the snow and to every eye present, something that she had no qualms in showing to him since he's considered family.

She held it down to her chest just to make it not cover her eyes, not for the sake of modesty, "But you enjoyed it, Gro—don't even say you didn't."

"Yes, for 3 days!" With great indignance, Gro exclaimed, "You made me feel useless—how could such loving care lead to such atrocity!?"

"Oh, don't be a baby about it." She retorted, "You made your point clear, you wish to work your body off to feel any sort of accomplishment. So I left you neglected so I can attend to the other babies."

Gro's eyebrow twitched, "Neglected is too strong a word, don't you think? You're making this too personal for the both of us."

"Enough." In a droning tone, Jacob put a stop to the usual squabbling, "I've already seen the circumstances and I declare the both of you the problem."

"What!?"

"Uncle Jacob!?"

"Gro." Jacob turned to the towering young man, "Assertion and initiative are your virtues. Don't sacrifice one for the other. Practice them both if you had actually wanted to make your wishes known."

The boy lowered his gaze, quickly agreeing to the advice. "Yes, sir."

"And as for you," Turning to the tailed Sankta, Jacob grabbed her by the bare waist and pulled her off him before setting her down to the ground, feebly dwarfed by the two men in terms of height despite her own great stature. "You've made it very clear you'll never leave me, and I swear to answer that. Therefore, there is literally no need for you to miss me so. Your ideas of coping with my physical absence are ridiculous."

"Oh come on." Compared to the subdued young man, Hanina is much more forward with her desires, hiding her hands behind her back and stepping up to the Chimera, literally touching the man's waist with her chest, "Can't I freely express how much I miss my dearly beloved so?"

Gro huffed, "That only applies if you are not bothering anybody."

Hanina's white tail spiraled in the air before darting forward with the lashing strength of a ballista launching a bolt, jabbing him in the belly. He didn't curl or get launched backwards into the stairs, a hardened belly and a puff of breath allowing him to handle the strike like wind to a mountain. All thanks to her and Jacob's instruction.

"Be fortunate for my mercy, dear." Huffing with puffed cheeks and pursed lips, Hanina looked over her shoulder towards him with a childish glare, "My tail breaks mountains."

"Be fortunate for my mercy, love." Gro emphasized, "I hope you remember that I equal Yelena. I do not merely spend my free time reading books in your holy ground or providing for the little ones."

"Your race doesn't make you special, boy. How does a young—"

"Enough." Jacob's voice growing in annoyance made Gro flinch, shutting down all notions of pettiness. Hanina merely schooled her expression into a neutral one as she faced forward, "Hanina, please ready the snacks you've been readying for me. I have some news to unravel and I'd like food to make my lips loose."

"With pleasure~" With a weightless leap upwards that allowed her to peck his cheek, she practically flew back into the building interior behind Gro, a small bungalow held up by long stilts of mortar underneath its foundations that elevated it high from the ground, its entrance preceded by a wide set of stairs that spanned the entire front porch.

"Come." A large hand patted Gro's back as the Chimera took a long step up the stairs and he smoothly whirled around to a seated position on the porch. "You're welcome to the porch."

"Oh, thank you kindly!" Very swiftly and excitedly, the young man took the offer and practically materialized to Jacob's side, resting his forearms on his knees while reveling in silent and petty victory over his Sankta friend. "Usually, I'm limited to the middle of the stairs."

"You're a loved one, Gro. You deserve more than this. You're welcome inside if you want a brief nap."

"Well, dearest Hanina seems to disagree. I take one step higher and she suddenly thinks I'm one of the snappers."

A disagreeing voice shouted out from the building's interior, "I would like you to know that I express my love for you very differently, Gro."

"If that is how you love me, then I fear for the person you love most." He shouted back.

"What are you talking about?" Genuine confusion could be felt from the voice alone, "You've seen how I love my Jacob."

"I meant somebody other than the person who raised you since birth."

"I don't have anyone like that."

"Exactly. You don't. People are starting to get sad, just so you know, especially your brothers-sisters."

"...you're being very confusing, Gro. I have somebody to love, isn't that the point?"

Gro sighed heavily, propping his chin with a hand. He swiveled his head to face the Chimera blankly staring ahead of him in amusement of the conversation that took place. "You see, Uncle? She still doesn't get it."

"And unfortunately, she likely won't ever will." Jacob's snout huffed out an exasperated breath, "For all my wisdom, I have no remedy to such single-minded devotion."

Gro hummed in agreement, then a small idea sparked in his head, something inspired from some of the books he read, "...what if you do the opposite? Shower her all the attention and love she craves until she becomes sick of it. As far as I know, your regular approach is usually to come and go, coddling her as much as you can before going away for who knows how many years again, leaving her wanting for more, as if addicted."

He wasn't surprised when the Chimera had an immediate answer, "If I did that, she'll be even more of a mistake than she already is."

Gro was positively blown backwards by the bluntness, wide-eyed and holding a part of the porch behind him to maintain a stable posture, even more so when he quickly remembered that Jacob is quite final and honest with whatever he says, refusing to change his opinion unless reality shows otherwise.

"...d-did you just say that, Uncle?" Gro asked in horror.

"You heard me." There was no apology whatsoever.

"Then at least say that outside of her earshot. Don't you realize how hurtful that is?"

"Too late." Hanina's voice came closer this time, making Gro turn his head around to see her standing by the open doorway, grinning with a wooden basin filled to the brim with all manner of food in her hands, from chips, meats, vegetables, fruits, bread and even ice cream neatly separated by small planks. "I'm the Chimera's biggest mistake, and you do not realize how proud you should be to earn such a sentiment."

The young man moved aside to make space between him and the other man and Hanina promptly placed the basin down on the open spot with a loud thud, upon which Jacob dug in without wasting time, hastily stuffing a cut of steak and a piece of lettuce slathered in mayonnaise in-between bread before biting down.

A pleased groan emanated from his beastly throat. "I missed your cooking, Hani." The Chimera expressed sincerely, his tail curling around her waist to show it.

The tailed Sankta looked on with pride, squeezing the green appendage around her waist with a free hand. "And my beloved here must take responsibility for making me this way. I could have grown up any differently from the many opportunities he provided and I instead end up falling in love with the provider himself, deigning to simply serving his will and nothing more."

With solemn respect, Gro asked, "Even if he doesn't reciprocate the well of love you pour over him?"

"He loved me first, Gro. I am simply giving it back the same way he did with me, without condition." Hanina turned to the boy with a satisfied look, untroubled and free from every worry that would ever cloud a normal woman's mind, especially when it concerned her feelings for a man who wouldn't look at her the way she wanted. "No matter his choices, I will forever love him. Even if he does wed another woman or two, I will be making it very clear to the Intended that I am not leaving his side, come what may."

Gro took note of something with what she said, "Another woman or two?"

"Yes." Hanina confirmed, oblivious to the bafflement he's feeling, "Did you know? The most number of wives he had were six."

The cheese-covered chips that Gro was about to dip on mayo instead fell from his grip and landed on soy sauce. He was quite frozen upon hearing it, turning rigidly to the polygamous Beastman in front of him, "Six wives, Uncle?"

The Chimera didn't turn his eyes away from the food in front of him, now feasting with slow restraint so as to savor the meal, "You don't believe it, my boy?"

"No!" Gro exclaimed, then realized himself and cleared his throat, "I mean, how could you possibly care and love for six women at the same time?"

Hanina suddenly started snickering, taking a large bite from bread coated in ice cream. Gro would have been struck in horror if he wasn't so accustomed to her monstrous food combinations over the years.

The young man eyed her questionably, "What's so funny, Hanina?"

"I had ten wives, actually." As per usual, Jacob shared such outrageous facts without any sort of irony, "If I can recall correctly, there were 4 Archosaurians, 3 Liberi, 2 Phythias and a single Durin. Quite a sequential order in regards to their races, I know, but you'd be very surprised at the kind of brutish power a Durin could have if it grew in a Darwinistic environment like Sargon."

Gro felt like his throat got tightened from the disbelief, but he was able to slip out a question, "Aren't the Durin race the knife-eared dwellers beneath the earth with statures built like that of a child's?"

"Correct, which is why it was quite the shock when I later learned that Durins are actually a technologically-advanced race of merrymaking temperament and my wife, Anna, was a hard-hitting brute with a hammer larger than her own torso and hungrily sought rivals to prove that size doesn't matter when it comes to fights."

Taking from the Chimera's book of clever deductions, Gro gathered from the information provided and inferred, "And you're defeating her earned you her infatuation since she was quite the undefeated reputation in her community until she found you?"

The Chimera and the tailed Sankta turned to him with very impressed looks. "Well, well, look who's being sharp." Hanina commented with a bright smile.

"Very good, my boy." Jacob reached forward to pat his shoulder, fatherly affection and pride clearly felt from the touch. "Your only error is that she had no community for she lived a wandering life to find warriors to challenge and she did not feel infatuation towards me upon her defeat. She simply lost her will to go further with her life and submitted to a simple Sargon custom to wed the one stronger than her."

Gro decided to try again, "But if I were to assume you as a loving husband, you avowed to give her a new lease in life, which led to her true infatuation with you."

Jacob hummed, chewing on bread. It didn't say whether he got the deduction right or wrong, "After news of the fearsome Durin warrior being defeated spread across other tribes, I suddenly became the new ideal of strength in Sargon. Essentially, I was visited by droves of warriors who wished to challenge me and prove their strengths."

"Goodness." Gro bit down on the sausage, cold from the snowing weather but still delicious. "How could you even cope with such unwanted attention?"

"It took Anna's compassion for the challengers to become less frequent." There was a noticeable shift in the Chimera's tone, affection and warmth beginning to seep through the phantom voice's words. "Harboring fondness for her great combat ability and boisterous demeanor, I vowed to make Anna happy after her defeat and give her a new drive for life. She gradually became accustomed to the care I give, expecting it from me everyday until the challenges came."

Gro entertained the probable following passage of the story in his head but held himself from expressing them. He'll stay quiet, try to see if he's correct.

"Seeing that I come home exhausted more and more from the frequent challenges, unable to attend to her as she usually expects, she attended me instead until I fell tired asleep before she personally visited every tribe, including the ones who aren't even involved, and gave everyone a stern beating, including the chiefs. When I heard the news of her selflessness, I wedded her immediately. It was a night we'll never forget."

Gro scoffed, grinning as he chuckled at his own brief victory, "I knew it. No wonder you speak of her with such love. She's an ideal woman to have, challenging practically armies of people just so you can have peace."

"Her actions eventually led to the arrival of the other eventual wives I'll soon wed, considering the new reputation she garnered from it. Regardless of whether they fell to the custom of submitting to the strong, wished to be her disciple or are simply infatuated, they did not have any intention of leaving her be. So me and Anna discussed that if this is how it's going to be from now on, I might as well wed them all instead to make things easy for the both of us. Outside of the rivalry and the usual belligerence, they are fair and amicable with me and each other after the first few year so the idea is open to them." A pleased and grumbling purr emanated from the Chimera's throat, chewing slowly on his food. "I didn't expect them to suddenly attack me first, having suggested behind my back that if I were to enjoy a harem of women, I needed to adhere to the daring Sargonian custom of personally defeating every single one of my Intendeds at once in physical combat. If the rules were fair, it would have lasted half a day. But there were no rules. 3 days it lasted, not helped by the women helping each other recover from their wounds. Some of them could even regenerate or had a talent for Healing Arts. Sargonian women are born to fight."

Hanina giggled, her white cheeks gaining a slight tinge of red, "You could say that Jacob had twice the conquest accomplishments at the time. One on the rainforests where they all rumbled and fought to the point of spitting blood, the other on the nearby desert oasis where they let loose and he got back at them very intimately for imposing such a brazen custom on him."

Gro fell silent, numerous images of bare flesh of various sunbaked tones, writhing bodies slathered from both sweat and the water of the oasis, and ecstatic moans resounding in his head of such an event—

"GAH!" A large fist bopped his forehead, bringing him back to reality and ruining his articulate mouth, "What the hell!?"

Jacob's intense gaze froze him still, "Keep your thoughts away from my privileges. Your privilege is to indulge upon this feast before us and be satisfied with me and Hanina."

"Indeed." A small hand smacked him on the shoulder, and he would have fallen off the porch if Hanina's white tail didn't grab him by the waist, "You'll get a good girl someday, dear, but for now, eat with us. I rarely prepared this much so dig in as much as you can stomach."

Gro made a noise between a hoarse grumble and a hissy whistle, avoiding the gaze of the two and taking a wooden spoon for the ice cream, "I wasn't thinking about that..."

"Say that again when your face isn't beet red." The tail around his waist tightened, "But you look cute so stay that way."

Gro quickly brought his hand up to cover his face, his free hand taking a spoonful of the ice cream to his mouth. Breathlessly, however, he muttered out, "...not cute. I'm a man."

For a while, they feasted in silence, enjoying the food that Hanina practically craved to bring out for her beloved since 5 years ago, preserved to a single point in time until today. Each dish and dessert tasted well, Gro can admit readily, and he almost felt privileged that he could ask for this much from the tailed Sankta if he merely asked. It's what she offered of her own free will, which is quite the surprise considering her worship-like reverence to her beloved.

"By the way," Hanina paused, turning to the Chimera while taking a bite of both an apple and a piece of bacon together, "Your Yelena's slowly becoming the star of the class. My most darling student, before our dear Gro here. At least she listens to everything I say compared to a certain horned brat."

"Our Yelena." Jacob corrected. "She's our collective daughter now. Yours too, Gro. I could already tell that you've been an active presence in her life after knowing her condition along with her circumstances."

Gro was briefly exasperated and shocked at the sudden acquisition of such a responsible role to the Cautus' life, but only lightly. He knew about the kind of impact he's having on Yelena's life so it's only natural that he'd be seen as another parental figure.

He remarked, "Then it's much stranger for me to be in the same class as her, if I am as much as her father as you say I am. I'd rather be her big brother just to make sense."

Hanina snorted, "Oh, don't be silly, Gro. I've had students with closer relations. I've once had three generations of a single family in the same curriculum, if you aren't aware. You're just put in the same group as the children Jacob saved from the gulag years ago along with the ones who were born here. The adults today are pretty much up to date with our current education."

"And the ShieldGuards don't need these lessons?" Gro asked, his brow rising mysteriously.

"They'll be learning all they need to learn from my graduates." Hanina flicked the basin with a slim finger, splitting the wood at the rim before it quickly closed and repaired itself. "But we're also learning from them, just so you know. Ursus tactics will tell us all about our enemies."

Gro grounded his teeth at the implications and the prospects that came with it, remembering what was announced long ago, "...5 or 6 years from now, yes? At the time, when we'll send our warriors out of the haven for the very first time along with the ShieldGuards, did Yelena actually intend to go with them? What about her fellows?"

"It's her choice, and her siblings made the decision to follow their starshaya setra." Hanina's face contained a grimace. A rather alien occurrence that even Gro was shocked to see it, "If her reasonings weren't grounded to reality and humble, I would have refused her for another decade. But her sufferings in the gulags gave her advanced wisdom for her age. She can instill that wisdom to her brothers and sisters in my place. And that alone will be enough for me to let them have their way."

None of that dissuaded Gro's worries. Decades of isolated peace in the haven, now they're going to step out into the world where Ursus will find them? To be potentially caught or even killed? "Will they be prepared?" He asked grimly.

Mournfully, Hanina shook her head, swishing her majestic auburn locks. Low and solemn, she answered, "No amount of preparation and training will save them from every cruelty, Gro. If Ursus cannot break them, then something else will. And I remind them that everyday. That's why I give them all that I could, all of my knowledge and wisdom handed over to them. All in the hope that they can come back safely to my arms. Including you, Gro."

Instantly, the young man lowered his gaze and held back the turbulent torrent of emotions that washed over him. Past the horrid memories as well as the regret and shame at the time, he swore through gritted teeth, "...I will come back, Hanina. I will do better this time."

A deep growl shook the porch, rumbling even Gro's chest. Both concern and pride could be felt from the frequency, worried over his decision but likewise acknowledging his strength to commit.

"Upon your graduation, you will be ready to walk out of this haven, dressed and fit to battle cruelty in the service of Jacob and the Infected." Hanina continued, her grim tone carrying the slightest hint of helplessness, "Your promise will be the only oath I'll ever impose upon you. Your life will be as you see fit."

A large hand held his shoulder, bringing his gaze up to Jacob who held him with equal solemnity. "Protect Yelena, her fellows, and each other. As the eldest, it's the only duty you'll have by the time it comes."

Gro snatched the Chimera's wrist, squeezing it assuredly and confidently. He would have crushed a lesser human's arm by now, "You don't need to remind me, Uncle. They're my responsibility, after all."

"Good." Jacob shook his shoulder before letting go, returning to his meal. "Your combat instructions will not fail you, Gro. Trust me."

"It never once did, Uncle, especially when I dared to step outside the classroom premises and attacked the Adams hounding the children."

Hanina giggled, "My second star student had the audacious nerve to disobey my rules and let himself be beset by a horde of slaves just to have a worthier fighting partner. And we're barely closer to the last phase of the curriculum by a few more years."

"It's not as if I could ask the children to meet me at my full strength. That could severely hurt them." Gro seriously pointed out, "The least I could do was be at their level and guide their movements. I felt rather underwhelmed without any equals."

"You could have asked me, you know?" Hanina reminded, a slight bit of chagrin lining her words. "I'm more than capable of meeting your silly strength."

"And risk being hated by the children for beating up their dearly-beloved teacher? Absolutely not."

And Gro quickly realized how cocky he sounded with that reply. Hanina noticed it too, smirking wickedly. Despite her lovely looks and gracious air, she is still a mountain killer. But she didn't highlight the fact and berate him for it.

"Do you see?" She asked her beloved, swaying a dainty hand to the young man's direction, "Unorthodox but reckless. Still."

"At least I achieved what was intended." Gro reasoned, "I refine my skills after every horde encounter and I kept myself under the supervision of Grod and the others."

"Still did not save you from the beatings I've reserved for lethally-stupid kids like you."

Gro frowned, shivering from the memory of such a beating, crumpling his left shoulder. "I said I would take responsibility for my own actions..."

"Yelena and the others are now cradling similarly-stupid ideas of facing the hordes sooner than the end of the curriculum due to your actions influencing them, do you intend to take responsibility for that? Would you like a beating that would make the ones I give to the mountains resemble a feeble punch if I ever hear a single piece of news of one of my youngest students caught dead outside the premises?"

Gro had no retort. For as long as he lived under the long-seeing Chimera's care, he failed to foresee that.

"Now, now..." Jacob started, his snout beginning to flatten against his face. "...Gro's realizing his mistake. You two can discuss a compromise together on your next class."

"I already did." Ever capable as a teacher, Hanina assured. Then she turned to the young man, "Gro, you and Yelena will be given special instruction on our next class."

Gro gulped, his trepidation only tempered by the snow bunny's presence.

"Understood." Then he turned to Jacob, "By the way, Uncle, you should hear Yelena sing during her practices and rehearsals. I don't think I've ever heard anyone so young could hold a note for so long under a single breath!"

"Do not disregard your own little victories, Gro." The tailed Sankta reminded, grinning brightly, "You have wonderful performance as a shieldbearer but you are such a fantastic wrestler as well. Who knew that the most studious bibliophile in my classroom would have a fiery temperament when grappling a foe?"

"I do have artful talents of my own, you know. I write poems and proses…." Despite his words, he felt proud and confident for earning such praise. Gro confidently replied with a smile, "...but still, the Adams were a ridiculously fussy and hardy bunch, but who knew that pinning them down to submission would be so gratifying."

"What of your Arts aptitude, Gro? Have you been honing them?" Jacob asked, pausing in his meal. A sign that he's very keen on the answer.

"Absolutely." Feeling giddy, Gro couldn't stop himself as he began, "One time, I asked Grod to find me the most muscular Adam to ever be. And the beasty was taller and wider than me, limbs so thick it might as well by my torso connected to his shoulders. He was the perfect partner to test my Arts. Do you know what happened when we finally collided?"

"What?"

"It died! " He exclaimed, "I accidentally beheaded the beasty as I tried to have its neck in a chokehold! It came off so easily with my Arts that I nearly thought you had gotten soft, Uncle."

Jacob chuckled in his Aslan throat, a deep but boisterous sound. "You'll be unstoppable with your shields now. I can't wait to see further growth until your graduation and beyond."

"I'll amaze you, Uncle. You'll see."

Hanina laid her front on the ground, propping her head up with a hand while her legs kicked idly, "Whether he approves or be appalled at what you are now, young Grrovae'zzeal would have never expected—"

"Don't bring that name up, Hanina!" His mood instantaneously flipping the other way, Gro snapped at the tailed Sankta with a glare that made Hanina's brow raise up in interest, "Please...do not. I'm barely over what happened."

"At least you told me." Unaffected by such sudden fire, she retorted with a gentleness she primarily reserved for those rescued from the gulags, compassion clearly visible through her eyes, "As close as we are, you barely opened up about it, even as I gently goaded you into speaking up about the troubles in your head many times before. I was hoping you managed to find some form of peace by yourself at this point if your silence on the matter is any indication."

Gro reached up, irritably scratching the area in-between his horns, throwing his neatly-combed hair into disorder. Once the heated itching stopped, he took a deep breath and regained himself, "...I haven't. Just please...g-give me more time."

"And I shall. We shall." Then the white tail around his waist tightened once again, the appendage suddenly gaining the connective feeling of endless compassion and selfless love that the Chimera had long engendered into the girl from it. Her voice became so soft and kind that it's almost ethereal and angelic against his eardrums, "Remember, you're a loved one to me as well. When you're ready to talk, I'm always here to receive you in my arms. If not me, then turn to Jacob. He will comfort you better than I could, considering I wasn't there."

A hand holding an deliciously-stacked sandwich presented itself before him, held out across by Jacob himself. As he looked up to the Chimera, the latter held the same compassion and empathy in his eyes. With his face flattened enough to resemble a human's, his mouth opened and spoke, a deep rumbling groan in a deep cave, "I'll wait for you for as long as you need, my boy."

His eyes burned, so he blinked rapidly to keep it from welling up. He reached up to rub his forehead, his thumb subtly wiping his eyelids, "...I know...I know. That's what you said, and I haven't doubted it since….that sandwich looks really delicious, by the way. I'll take it."

Taking it into both hands and taking a large bite into it, his mouth expectedly exploded with the deliciousness of the contents of meat. Such a phenomena, he realized, was only possible to the pair next to him, reminding him that he was loved and always will be.

A Draconic hand reached up to fix his frayed locks while Jacob began a new topic, continuing the oral format of communication, "Buldrokkas'tee's foolish son aside, there are some new ventures I've taken as well as some new opportunities that we can use to our advantage. Please listen carefully, I would like you both to bring it to discussion to the meeting table by tomorrow morning."

"What kind of opportunities? And where?" Hanina asked, rolling to her side while propping her head with one hand. Her chest is dangerously close to being revealed into the air again due to the poncho she wore.

Gro tapped the ground with his fist, shaking his head as he quickly chewed his food. After swallowing loudly, he suggested, "Let's hear about the ventures first. Let's hear the kind of resources Uncle Jacob is giving away before we deliberate on these opportunities."

"I'll instead relay one opportunity for now." Jacob decided, briefly taking a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth before quickly swallowing it, showing no outward display of brain freeze, "One of my spawns in the capital of Ursus caught wind of the Soft Emperor receiving a gaining number of royalists to his reformist and progressive ideals. One among them being Islam Witte himself."

Hanina shared Gro's fascination of the news, especially when it's known that the man himself is the Minister of Finance among other positions he had, which means Islam Witte's influence is far-reaching, which can also benefit Tsar Fyodor's pacifistic ideals, but the young man quickly reminded himself of a certain factor, "But many divisions of the military are still loyal to the warmongers, aren't they?"

"Correct." He saw a slight furrow on the Chimera's brow, "The divisions the royalists command are too meager in numbers and strength by comparison. As for the spawn who caught news of this, he has managed to rise up to the title of noble with many accomplished accolades and is now serving under Islam Witte himself."

Just as Gro was about to get excited, Jacob placed his hand in front of the boy and slowly crumpled it to a fist, dampening his enthusiasm inside. Hanina was mature enough to not celebrate early, quietly awaiting her love to continue speaking.

"This is merely an opportunity, my boy." Jacob reminded, lowering his fist. "There are no guarantees. Not yet. We risk exposing the haven to Ursus itself, and the Tsar's policies are clashing against the interests of the military and the nobility, the former of which can be perceived as being against Ursus by his subjects and the latter endangering his place as their Emperor. Islam Witte's already held up by the court intrigue interrupting these reforms, advising the Soft Emperor from any drastic action is another one of these obstacles troubling him and the spawn."

Wood cracked in wide gaps as the porch suffered damage.

As the cracks receded to repair itself, the angry fist slowly raised up to hold Gro's wrinkled forehead, his frustration clearly visible to everyone around him. "Why...? Even with a kinder Emperor, it's still coming down to this...?"

A soft hand held his own that laid on the porch surface, crumpled tightly. Hanina explained firmly, "Vladimir's influence does not simply leave when Jacob's disease finally killed him. So long as his warmongering followers still have armies under their commands, his twisted shadow will continue to blacken the country. His death was merely an opportunity for the country to change for the better. Whether someone takes that opportunity is another matter entirely. Fyodor's taken it, and now his every effort will be tested every single day before his way goes. Such is reality's numerous cruelties."

"As for the venture I've taken..." Jacob reached forward, pulling Gro's hand down from his forehead and flattening the creases on his brow with a simple push of his thumb. Ruffling his head, the Chimera let go and took another scoop of ice cream, "...let's just say that Cruelty will come to the haven much sooner than we think."

---

"Um…."

I continued glaring as she stammered, still recovering from the surprise and shock of seeing me in her private quarters.

"Uh…..it's uh….um…."

How the fuck is this woman the King of Kazdel? She's hardly presenting herself as such. She wasn't like this during our talk.

...Though, the answers are already clear to me. She's the silliest and smallest King I've ever met. Her behavior's got an easy pattern to read.

"…it's hard to say that it's good to see you again if you're glaring at me like that. Have I done something so heinous as to earn the ire of the great Chimera himself? The same Chimera that dared to challenge the leaders of every Sarkaz tribe in Kazdel just to have a chat with me in private?"

'Chat' she says. As if that time was just the two of us 'chatting' over cakes and coffee to add. The hell it was.

I reached up to my forehead, scratching it irritably, my throat growling and hissing as my snout opened up to reveal the teeth within.

My voice echoed from the walls, pieces of my body and scent already plastered everywhere before she entered.

"As much as I want to embrace you in greetings as a friend, it has been decades since we last saw each other, Theresa. And that was when we first met. It's hard to feel inclined to such pretentious warmth." Upon hearing my voice and having it say her name, her face lightened up from its tension and the simple smile graced it once again. "Even so, I'm glad you're alright."

"And I you, Jacob." Hmph. What do you know? Hearing your name said aloud from somebody that's barely your friend sure has a strange feeling. Maybe it's because it's her, specifically. She is a likable creature, in my severely biased opinion. "It's good to see that you're still ripe in mind, life and body."

Not for long, little girl. I'm literally using my own body as a small country for people I saved and I'm starting to get extremely tired and lifeless ever since. And I haven't made plans for relocation yet. Not to mention the hell my charges will endure by the time I destroy the haven along with me.

I walk towards her, my hands still morphed to the likeness of Vouivres but without the claws reaching for her shoulders. I grab ahold of them, which she didn't protest but instead replied by holding on to my scaly forearms in turn. Then I boop my snout to her forehead, properly greeting her in the fashion that's fit for me.

Now that she's marked with my scent, she's now bound to my reality and we can speak freely without any worry of being eavesdropped or found out.

I release her and proceed to the chair in front of her desk. "I suppose it was too much to expect a warmer and peaceful climate by the time I decided to actually visit you? Why is it so tense out there?" I asked, pulling it closer and turning it around before sitting down.

The deep sadness in her eyes settled as she replied to me, her smile weary and tired, "….we're doing our best. I suppose if you delayed your visiting me a little longer, you might find the climate just a bit closer to your liking."

She's positive, at least. And she's holding on to hope. That's a good thing.

So far, things are quiet in Kazdel under her rule but I could feel the tension quite thickly underneath it all. Some of the people are getting a tad bit testy despite the gradual restoration of their country, especially when they're getting harassed by other nations. The justified fear of possibly getting their full attention and having their country splintered once again by them isn't allowing any hope to grow quickly.

Some of the Sarkaz wanted retaliation. Some wanted to prepare defenses. More opinions of similar nature that don't agree with Theresa's administration could be felt almost everywhere, even if their numbers are quite minor. War traditions and a martial culture are the primary causes of these opinions.

"So, um…how have you been since we last saw each other?" Theresa asked to evade the topic, now proceeding to the tea set that's sitting on a small table against the wall.

"Busy…and tired." I answered willingly, my tail wrapped around the chair's legs as I kept my back straight and my arms crossed. "Ursus' corruption reached a new low. Atop their expansionism and bigotry, now they made new laws targeted primarily to torment the Infected just to distract the masses from the corruption and incompetence of their government and their failing military campaigns."

"Is that so? I heard of quite the events that occurred there over the years. And I hear of a newly-ascended Tsar there? A new Emperor?"

Hmph.

My lips sneered slightly, "A new Tsar. His name is Fyodor, Son of Vladimir. The Soft Emperor."

She turned a questioning stare towards me, "Soft? Is that what his subjects call him? Or maybe that's your assessment of him?"

"Compared to his stupid father, he's not a warmongering fool set on a path to his country's eventual destruction like many others from past old nations, including the ones that were before the Khagan conquest. Aside from his progressive and reformist ideals as well as his sympathy for the Infected's plight, he's every bit as caring to his subjects as his Da." Now that I'm saying it out loud, I feel just as disgusted as before. Discovering that the old bastard genuinely cared just baffles me.

"Judging by how busy you are," She paused, pouring the hot water from the kettle. "I assume that his will is unheard by the ones under him, especially the nobility, undermining his effort to manage a country that's used to a warpath set by his predecessor. He must have been ridiculed for not being war-hungry by his father's supporters."

"Fortunately for him, the old nobility are nothing but dying old men and deluded young men, low in numbers thanks to the rebellion that happened prior. The new generation of nobility will be after his own heart, having grown tired of the economy being drained by their useless wars. Unfortunately, a majority of the armies are still under the former. He's yet to have any grip and power over them yet. He has little capital."

A silence passed as she placed the finishing touches of the tea, even squeezing a bit of lemon juice into the mix.

Yum.

Then she takes a small plate and a full cup, delivering it to me. "I hope you don't mind the additional flavor. I do recall that you disliked the one I gave you during our first meetings."

My snout released a guttural chuckle as I took the cup by the rims from atop, leaving the small plate untouched since I can take the heat of the porcelain on my palms. "I'm very touched that you recall."

Theresa brought the plate with her as she returned to the small table and picked up her own cup, placing it atop the saucer and proceeding to her four-poster bed.

As she gently sat down, careful not to bounce and spill her tea, she asked, "So….um….about Tsar Fyodor? What do you think about him? Will he become the new receiver of your grace in your Pilgrimage?"

"As powerless as he is? No." I paused, relishing in the taste of the tea she made as I drank from it easily despite my snout feline but in small amounts, my free hand hovering beneath to catch any drops just in case. It actually tastes good. Lemon tang aside, this isn't the same tea as last time and the base has its own flavor too. Impressive. "He must make the first move if he's to receive it. The moment he succeeds a major move in any way is the automatic indication of his value worthy of my attention."

Porcelain clinked together as Theresa lowered her cup down, "And while you wait for his initiative, what sort of adventures were you up to in Ursus?"

"The usual virtue." I wipe the fur near my mouth with a fist, licking my lips. "In this case, saving the ones suffering under Ursus' tyranny….and overseeing a certain idiot that impulsively left your rule."

I peeked to the side of my eye to watch the little King rummage through her memories, looking up to her brain and trying to remember who I'm talking about.

I patiently waited, drinking some more tea.

Oh, I ran out of tea very quickly. This big mouth and belly of mine or this tiny teacup.

Oh well.

I walk over to the small table to put it down instead of refilling. I'm not here for that. Just as I put it down, Theresa finally spoke up.

"Ah, you mean Buldrokkas'tee. Yes, I can recall." I sense some pride in her voice, and I actually liked hearing it when it's regarding her deserting subject. "His magnificent reputation has reached here in Kazdel. Many Sarkaz lauds him as a hero. I ask that you please don't judge him for suddenly departing from my court. He had his reasons. He feared to fight the wars in Kazdel that would plague his whole life if he stayed."

Pfft!

The entire room trembled as my throat rumbled a deep growl, crumpling my fists as I stood in the middle of the room, "His excuses are full of bullshit and you know it. You wear the Black Crown, Theresa. You should know the emotions that ran through his head as he served you."

"I didn't. But I know that he left for the right reasons."

"If you say that he hated wars the same way he claimed to be when I asked, which could serve as his reasoning to leave your side, then I say that he wrongfully assumed that you were a warmongering fool just like your brother and left to avoid your rule, only to be proven wrong when you were different and now he can't bear to face you without feeling shame for it. And what does he do in Ursus? Fought in more wars!" I am already shouting, my physical mouth opening wide and lightly roaring. If it weren't for my body blocking out the noise, even her stupid brother and the Confessarius would have heard me by now, "Became my enemy! Desecrated the reasoning why I called him my Brother! Can I expect a bigger hypocrite from anyone else in your court, Theresa!?"

She gave me a pointed look, critical but understanding, "Are you to judge, Jacob?"

...She sees it. She sees it, doesn't she? There's no way she doesn't...

I sneered once again, growling as the walls spoke with emotionless tones, "As far as I'm concerned, Theresa….yes. I knew where his actions will lead to. It's in my generosity to guide him as my centuries have taught me. I did my best to steer him away from it but his reputation came first before his ears are no longer deaf to me. His actions come to a head when he doesn't actively face responsibility for his actions until it took something away from him. If you could look at him now….."

Theresa fluidly stood up from the bed, the sound of her heels clicking as she walked over to the small table to put her cup down.

Then she turned around to face me, opening her arms towards me.

...I sighed heavily.

She did see it.

You and your fucking Black Crown, Theresa.

I walked in small steps towards her, dragging my hooves as I do. Once I'm almost in certain reach of her arms, I then kneel down on both legs, sitting on my ankles and bowing my head.

This isn't submission in any way. She would never disrespect me like this.

Theresa took a small step forward, then wrapped her hands around my neck and resting her temple against my head, embracing me tightly, scratching my mane and patting my nape. I feel every bit of her Sarkaz King Arts infusing comfort and warmth in my head, severely unwanted but oh so tempting and intoxicating to indulge in.

"You say such scornful words….yet all I feel from your heart is pity, compassion, and love." Theresa's soft voice against my ear was the most understanding I've ever heard, trumping every other person that ever said the same. And her words have weight, and that isn't because of the Black Crown. If it were otherwise, I would have rebuffed her sympathy straight away. "Whatever Buldrokkas'tee had lost there in Ursus, you feel it as if it were your own. His tears are yours. His pain…his suffering…you do not wear the Black Crown, yet your heart understands him more than I could ever do. No one ever deserves you, Jacob. You bear so much guilt and sadness in his place, regretting that you could have done more."

Then she stops talking. Normally, there would be more words of comfort to say here, but not Theresa. She knows what and who I am. She established that the moment she used the full extent of her Sarkaz Arts on me when I held her hand for the first time, looking deep into my millennium long history.

I tasted every kind of joy and despair that the world had to offer before they began repeating themselves. Feeling the pain of another person? Buldrokkas'tee was the third time. Therefore, she does not need to say more. Someone else already said them to me before her, therefore she only needs to fulfill the most essential action for someone as ancient as me: the kind touch.

The simple touch of someone that's willing to take the initiative and comfort me. Whether that be patting my shoulder, holding me and rubbing my back, or even just being there to listen, that would help more than the words of those younger than me.

Despite my reluctance, I willingly hug Theresa back, taking in the warmth she's passing to me without resistance. And my body purred, making me tighten my embrace and wrapping my tail around us. She accepted my hold and tightened her embrace as well, giving even more of her Arts.

At the same time, I didn't merely take. Once I had enough, I gave her comfort and affection as well, easily brushing off the warmth she's showering on me and sending my own back through the channel created by her Arts.

Kazdel may be rebuilding itself but it's not an accomplishment without issue. There's always something slowing it down or hampering its honest progression that needed to be handled, and surprise, surprise, it's her fucking brother.

Compared to Theresa's approach of pacifism, moderation and rare escalations to tragic warefare, Theresis is a jingoistic moron who thinks power and war is the only answer to every setback that menaces Kazdel, especially the other Nations that harass it. He's a blind idiot, doomed to feed his country and people's suffering, and I fear for the worse.

And he's already gaining a slow but certain momentum of acquiring the support and approval of the Sarkaz people. Worst-case scenario in a few years from now or even less, he gains the approval of the leaders of other Sarkaz tribes, especially the war-hungry ones like the vampires.

There is no way Theresa does not foresee it. It's definitely possible and only a matter of time.

Such a reality would truly weigh on her mind, especially when it's her own brother.

And with her Black Crown? The weight of her responsibility as their King gets amplified, literally hearing every need of change and reforms for the better from every Sarkaz demanding it from her. And that's on top of the fear that she fails to gain their support over Theresis.

I lighten my embrace, leaned back to move Theresa's head away from my shoulder and begin nipping her forehead and hair, like a mother cat to her kitten. I held her like a daughter, patting her back and transmitting affection through it as well. Since she's younger than me and my head is shaped like the Aslans, it's easier and sensible to do.

We indulged each other like this for a while, exchanging comfort in a way that only a pair of highly empathetic people could do. We're not kissing or anything, yet this feels quite so intimate and close, and scandalously so for she's the Sarkaz King.

But labels like that don't exist for the moment. I only see a kid with too much on her plate than she had any reason to be. As an adult, I am obliged to give her an opportunity to lie down and a moment to pick herself up. She can do it. I believe in her. She isn't alone. She has more than loyal soldiers. She has friends in her circle. That's more than enough.

I held her shoulder with one hand while the other moved a frayed lock of pink hair to the side with my large pinky. She kept her hold on me, fluffing her hands on my mane and cheek. I looked at her like a baby girl to cuddle and play with, she clearly held me in her eyes like a gigantic dexterous cat to pet and nuzzle. I allow the thought. She clearly needs any moment to be a child without any Kingly obligations on her head.

"Tell me, Theresa. I want to know." I began, turning to look her directly in the eye, and she returned my gaze sincerely, "Does a heart that feels for another like mine and yours…..serve as a good thing for our own person?"

She smiled gently, cupping my Aslan cheek, "Our capacity for empathy is sometimes outside our own choices. What it does to us and what we do with it is our own decision to make. But for others, it's what lets them heal when they need it most. If it's within my power to pull others from the pit they fell into and build them up as they find the heart to stand up again, then I shall do it, no matter how many times."

I sighed heavily, ducking my head even lower.

We parted our embrace and I stood up tall, turning around and taking small steps back to the chair.

Before that, however, "You know what I hate, Theresa?"

"Hmm?"

"It's the fact that you tend to say what I already know. I lived for a whole millennium to have this kind of wisdom and empathy, and you're the same at only more than two centuries while wearing your crown. We're too alike in some ways and that annoys me."

She hummed interestingly, and my horns tagged her body language as childishly inquisitive, hiding her hands behind her and leaning forward, "What do you do for others with your aged wisdom and everlasting empathy that endured the years of your life?"

What I'm currently doing to Buldrokkas'tee.

"To build the broken. The same way you're doing for Kazdel, in a certain way." I turn around to face her, "We might as well be soulmates for our certain similarities, Theresa, but I'm fairly certain someone else has taken the spot for other reasons."

She gasped, then that mouth twisted into a leery smirk, teasing all the way to hell. I never saw her wear that face before and I'm actually disgusted.

Oh fuck, here it comes.

"Oh~ Do I sense the mighty Chimera that squared against the mightiest in Kazdel's tribes just to have an audience with me actually having the ulterior motive of wooing me~?" The closer she was getting into my face, I quickly scoffed and rolled my eyes as I quickly kept my back facing her. "Does he somehow fancy a little lady like me?"

"Don't glorify it, you little shit." I start rotating around, keeping my back to her as she's trying to get into my front to see my face, "I'm not even trying to hide such a thing. The idea of mentioning it aloud is infantile."

I start walking around the room to get away from her intrusive face and she's still following me, "Ooh~ I wonder what will come from this development I've learned from you?"

I warp myself towards near the bed space, crossing my arms as she was baffled at me suddenly disappearing in front of her the sooner she blinked until she turned around, "You do realize that I would have pursued your hand if it weren't for obvious factors that prevent me? I'd be honored to love you and take care of you as I live by your side. I'd be driven to help you in your endeavors for Kazdel, even supply you with all the manpower and logistics you'd need for your people to thrive again, and even provide you the repose of a whole century to regain your whole strength if you merely asked it of me."

She's still smiling, but none of the teasing air now. She knows I'm being serious and now she's regarding the notion carefully, "Well, why not pursue me now? Even if we're burdened by our responsibilities, we are but mature and rational adults who can manage our time properly, personal and work. There's nothing stopping us from trying."

This girl...!

I frowned, "You are getting ahead of yourself, little girl. You are a person that's completely detached and independent from my existence. You exist outside myself. You're different. You're nothing like me. And that's what makes you so beautiful. Therefore, I will love you for every reason you have for being that way. But can you? Can you match such unconditional love and reciprocate my affections until the end of time? Are you worthy of it?"

I smirked my Aslan snout, already knowing the answer and also coming to a new realization.

I'm also not letting her answer the question herself, "It seems I found the wonderful disparity between us. You're far too young to talk about love."

She pouted and deflated visibly, totally unfitting of an adult woman like her. And it's quite the adorable thing to see.

"I'll have you know that I'm over several centuries years old." Her indignant voice filled me with so much joy.

"Which proves….nothing." I warp myself in front of her, then suddenly pick her up bridal style.

"WAGH!" Ha! Her yelp is so delicious to hear.

"Even those of advanced age are still prone to infantile lines of thinking. And human minds like us are not excluded in that regard despite our best efforts."

I then head towards the bed and sat down on the edge, bouncing a bit before setting her down on my lap, her legs on one side, and wrapping my arms around her waist. She willingly leaned her head against my shoulder, offering no protest in her placement and instead taking the moment to experience being pampered by a large fuzzy beast, running a white hand through my chest fur.

Is it soft to the touch? I never checked.

We take a moment to catch our breath from that little play, and when she got herself together, she asked, "How are you feeling, Jacob? Are you doing well? You're not lonely? I hope you have someone by your side in your Pilgrimage. I've seen how much isolation could hurt you in your long years."

Already ahead of you.

"I prized myself a lovable being that threw her whole heart and soul into serving me. If I were still a god, then she's my adoring 'priestess'...though she definitely sees me as one. A speaker of my will and a representative of my person, without sacrificing her own heart and will as well."

The one thing I can be proud of is that I did not raise the girl to be that way. It's entirely her choice to be so devoted to me.

"This adoring girl of yours sounds like an interesting one. I'd like to meet her someday. How did you find her?"

My throat rumbled lightly, grim in tone. "A Sankta was exiled from Laterano for being Infected. Her condition was discovered when she was with child. She would have died with her unborn infant on her exodus if my slaves wandering near the nation's outskirts weren't there to save her from the raiding party that awaited her."

Theresa was silent for a minute, and I knew what ran through her mind before she said anything, "...Were they Sarkaz?"

I didn't answer, I simply growled. You know the answer to that question, little girl.

She sighed mournfully when she realized that I wasn't going to say anything, tiredly leaning her head against my chest.

"What of her husband?"

I audibly clicked my tongue in my snout. A thick snapping sound that echoed in the room.

"He died on the line of duty, some time after their child's conception, struck down by a Sarkaz raiding party. When she took revenge, that was likely the day she became Infected."

".….sad."

Indeed. All that blood just to be thrown out of your country where your unborn child could have grown healthily in? Is it all worth it? It took long until her old age to say 'no'.

Predictable human nature and thinking. So typical yet so understandable it's actually annoying.

"I could have offered her a longer life, long enough for her to pay for her mistake of such an impulsive action that cost her child's livelihood." I slightly lowered my head, pursing my lips. "She denied herself from it. She even refused my charity of taking away her Infection. She owned up to her sin and consigned her wish for a long and healthy life towards her born-Infected daughter. For her sacrifice, I dedicated her final years to her comfort and fulfillment. Wherever she wished to travel, whatever she wanted to do, whoever she wanted to meet, the things she wanted for herself...I gave her every opportunity to have them and she earned accomplishment after accomplishment. She lived with little regrets."

Theresa sighed, wistful. "Generous as always, aren't you? Did she pass on?"

"Peacefully, surrounded by her loved ones. After the end of her Lateran burial customs, I concluded the ceremony with all my customs, every chant and dirge dedicated to her memory." I answered sincerely. "She was well-loved by the community in my haven, ever so helpful and warm to the people around her, even towards my Sarkaz subjects. A bright teacher, a precious friend and a revered mother, she was. We erected a Lateran Chapel in her name, and those of its faith sit inside for the sermons and honor her name. Those outside of it clean it regularly, reminiscing of the warm times spent with her that brought fire to the icy Tundra of Ursus."

Theresa crumpled the fur on my chest, fondness seeping through her touch, "Her sweet final moments were only possible because of you. Be glad for that."

"I am." And proudly so. "The only mistake I have ever committed is regarding her daughter. I raised and loved her well. Too well, now the girl has dedicated her entire being to me. She has wholeheartedly thrown her entire body and soul to such worship of me, loving me and only me. Though she matches my charity and dedication for the community and the children's well-being, she would never love another man. Whether as my consort or as a concubine, her infinite well of affection for me will never dry and she will find any possible way to stay by my side no matter what until the day of her passing. Even if I had rejected her, she would be celibate and take the vow of eternal service to my name. That is not what I wanted for her. I wanted her to live as freely as she wishes outside of me. I suspect her mother being responsible for this."

Theresa giggled. A rather pleasing song to my ears. "Take responsibility, Jacob. You are directly involved in her growth, after all. I think her idea of freedom is choosing to be dedicated in heart, mind and body to you. That's entirely of her own freewill."

"I know." Goodness, just hearing the same words again is so annoying. "She practically said the same thing as well. She wants nothing more and she doesn't regret her choice, and now that she's a grown and mature woman, her word is final. She's set in her ways. Now I will never be free of her."

"Hmph." Theresa harrumphed, "Then make her service to you worth her every action. It's the only way you can give her fulfillment as you did her mother."

Wise words...but it didn't enlighten me.

"I know. It's what her mother would have wanted. It's my duty to be worthy of her joyful devotion. Her life's too short for her eternal worship of me, which is why I'm making plans for an adventure across the world together with her to broaden her horizons and see if it changes her mind...hopefully."

"Hmm." She yawned lightly, patting her hand on my chest. I returned the gesture by lightly patting her waist. "What's her name?"

My throat rumbled pleasantly, "I gave her a Sarkaz name. Hanina."

She paused for a bit, "Ah, from another dialect of Teekaz." Theresa sounded quite delighted, "Hanina...it means 'gracious'. But if you shorten it, it turns into 'cutie'. Ha! Who made you this clever, especially in a language that isn't yours?"

"Since ever I was clever. I had many opportunities to be together with many Sarkaz nomads. Even once wedded myself to one, centuries before I properly met you."

"I heard that your fluency of an ancient dialect baffled the tribe leaders, especially as you shouted titles and accolades."

Safe to say that I'm definitely proud of myself back then, especially when the Nachzehrer King gave me his praise and respect. He was quite the terror to fight, worse than the Sanguinarch. Condescending bloodsucking little bitch.

"At least they have not forgotten much of their roots. Their culture still have value in my eyes, even for a splintered Kazdel."

"And this little Hani is a Sankta? And you gave her a Sarkaz name?"

"Indeed, I baptized and christened her outside of Lateran customs." Getting pettily haughty now. I hope her Black Crown could sense it. "And I raised her to be above the Sarkaz-Sankta tribalistic whim to kill each other. She did grow up alongside Sarkaz children that were born in my haven, making a huddle of loving brothers and sisters with them. Even lovingly raised the next batch of newborns herself when their parents are occupied with my duties for them. Her mother had to adopt my views very quickly for she risks her unborn daughter's wellbeing in my haven if she doesn't change herself first. She would have been evicted otherwise."

She briefly chuckled her song again. "That's one way to persuade progressiveness in a person. Little Hani must be raised to be the best of her generation."

Well, I wonder about that...Hanina's been growing a tail since her adolescence. Sankta don't grow tails. Sarkaz do. But her tail is not like a Sarkaz. It's Pythian. And she has HORNS. Not even a Fallen either. Some newborn children are showing similar chimeric traits as well, making their actual race classifications ever so confusing. Very few of them are purely similar to both or one of their parent's racial heritage.

But in regards to her humanity, however...

"During her usual duties of comforting the grieving, she learned too harshly that she's far too sheltered in my haven to say understanding words to her Infected charges when she barely knew their pain under Ursus' cruelty. The screaming and roaring she endured from the most damaged of them...the reality hurt her more than their lashings. She was despondent for several days after crying to me. Her brothers and sisters practically brayed for blood after hearing about it."

Theresa briefly hummed, "Failures and downfalls can become virtues when you learn the lessons behind all the pain and wrong. After all, one does not become wise and moral by not having done many stupid things and made stupider decisions. I am certain that Hanina learned well and got better from it."

I practically smirked in my Aslan snout. "Indeed. Perhaps too well, she learned. She asked me to let her taste the torture all Infected endure, so that she could be better. That literally meant being sent outside the haven and be found Infected by any Ursus authority. And you know how unkind they are to our conditions."

She looked up to me in horror, "Oh dear."

"Rather than letting her go alone, I made the choice to endure with her and taste the suffering of an Ursus Infected for myself. With me there by her side, her survival will be guaranteed. And likewise, her torment. So we toiled in the gulags, mining Originium for 18 hours and having so little to eat, day after day, accepting the berating roars of the overseers and their heartless words if we were fortunate enough to be away from their whips and their swords. I watched childrens' toes get detached due to frostbite. Hanina listened to the sounds of a pregnant woman being flogged for being slow. I endured the idea of me and my fellow slaves being treated as less than animals. I even had to force many, especially the children, to eat my flesh so they may not starve and be punished for being weak the next day. Atrocity after atrocity, cruelty after inhumanity in a rhythm that should not be in the hearts of men..."

"Oh Jacob..."

"The painful urge that burned within mine and Hanina's soul to simply intervene and break all of us out, begging me to help them and warp them to the haven so they may be free from their torment and be comforted with all of my warmth and peace..."

I closed my eyes, audibly growling and sneering my teeth. The trauma of such a memory have little effect on my mind, but the sheer agony of such an ordeal set a new standard of suffering I will forever remember till this day. Ursus should be very proud for showing me the new ways I can be extremely petty.

The images and sounds of the time ran through my mind very vividly, all of my thoughts almost completely turned inwards and shutting out nearly everything in the outside world.

But as far as experience told me, even my audiences will start hearing the sounds I've heard at the time as I told them. Another byproduct of what my influence could do, even outside my reality.

"But if I had allowed myself to fall to such temptations, I would have desecrated my will to be one with the ones under my protection. Hanina would have never understood the true pain of being an Infected woman in a world like this. Even as she begged me in tears to cut our endeavor short, nearly exposing our agenda to any within earshot, I shook my head and forced the both of us to endure further. And we endured...for 714 days."

I shifted my grip around Theresa's waist to just my hands, gripping them very tightly to the point that I would have made diamonds from wood without any divine power behind it. Theresa's little ringed hand placed itself atop them, gripping tightly.

"714 fucking days...the fucking bastards really wanted to bleed us dry, slowly and painfully. I thought they would trap us inside the mine and bury us inside with explosives the sooner we dried it all of its resources just like what happened to other gulags I've failed to liberate in time...but they insisted to make us keep digging. Keep digging...they told us to keep digging...for a whole 2 months...finding absolutely nothing."

...It's coming from all over the room...

The sounds of whipping, the crying, the whining, and the roaring...the demeaning things they said. The struggles of a woman as she was pulled into the open...the sound of a blade digging into flesh, and her screams...

The sounds...oh, the sounds...

"The stickly children...the dying adults...the barely alive elderly...the overseers had no heart...they had none. The pregnant woman they've flogged...they ripped her crying baby out of her womb and threw him into the air to be shot apart by a firing squad, apparently thinking it would set an example to all of us..."

My horns tagged a flash of movement that erupted on my lap.

Suddenly, Theresa isn't leaning on my chest anymore. She leapt from her position and threw her arms around my neck once again, though I'm not sure whether it's to console me or herself. I can smell and hear her sobs, piercing through all of these visceral sounds.

But I continue, needing to tell where the point of it all was found.

"When the last living pillar of our sanity died and was desecrated on the snowing soil along with her baby right in front of us, all of us...we simply fell apart. There wasn't sadness...or anger...or even the fear they wanted from us...just...nothing. I am a Behemoth who can bend the world upside down, and my Hanina can force mountains to submit to her will...and I finally tasted what being helpless and powerless truly felt in the hearts of humans lesser than the ones weaker than me..."

I finally open my eyes, bringing myself back to the present inside Theresa's chambers than the icy hole that became our grave, shutting out all the noises from that time. And I felt a wetness flow freely from my eyelids.

"I wept. I finally wept again that day and reconciled myself to the oldest weakness I've long forgotten."

As I raise one hand up to pat Theresa's back as she continued weeping in sympathy, my voice is no longer lined with the emotions of the past that were anger, desperation and despair. It's back to neutral and calm, backed by the wisdom I've earned since then.

"Upon the day of our demise, I finally released myself from the self-imposed binds that held down my will. I exercised my dominion over every soul that perished in the gulag and brought them home to my haven, where they can finally be free from such suffering and live. I took away the pain of their labors for my own. Though they recall every bit of their past agony, they felt no connection to them, as if it were nothing more than a mere terror of the night that will only pass in the arms of a loved one. I washed their bodies of every muck, scar, disfigurement, and the illness of Oripathy, healthy and clean as they should have been. I gave them food and drink, a grand feast from all of my years in luxury that belonged to such stomachs that were forced to eat the flesh of one of their own. And I gave them hope. I restored the pregnant mother's desecrated unborn child and placed it back into her closed and mended womb, conceived and grown peacefully in its final month as if it were nursed under the roof of a home surrounded by love. As she gave birth to a healthy boy, it was a celebration and an achievement for every single one of them. It's not just the mother's boy, it was theirs too. And they swore to love and protect him until the end of time, never tasting the lash of a whip, the pain of hunger or the oppressive air of being trapped inside a cavern."

I took a deep breath. As I slowly exhaled, I slowly felt peace flow back into my heart. That family has been thriving in the haven ever since, and the baby boy is growing quite well into such a good and polite young man, if slightly short-tempered and highly devout to me thanks to the constant smothering of his numerous parents and constant praise of me, respectively.

And I finally pull Theresa from my shoulder, putting just a bit of distance between us so I can dry her tears by blowing warm air into them and wiping her eyes with my large Vouivre pinky finger. "Do not weep nor pity. Spare them for those who need. I've already given all the tears they wanted and more, for they will never despair again. But I'm grateful for your empathy. I'm sure they'd be delighted to know that the King of Kazdel wept for them."

Theresa wiped the last vestiges of tears that leaked from her left eye, looking up and cupping both my cheeks, pulling my head closer until she brought her forehead close to mine. There isn't any touch-contact. Just a hover away, but her compassion and understanding is vividly clear before she spoke in fragmented ceremony. "If the King of Kazdel cannot offer pity in equal measure for your troubles, then let no race in Terra that live say that the Undying Chimera of his Divinity speaks of compassion from a pedestal on high for he treads on the mud with my fellows and feasts on the ground with them on the hottest days, for he lies in a bundle of hay and coats his brother next to him with a quilt of wool in the coldest nights, and instead praise him for his strength, humanity and generosity."

I simply sigh but quietly. Her words hold no weight whatsoever. I'm already affirmed to such assurances long ago and I've grown old since internalizing them. In essence, despite the initial intent, they were said purely to bring both closure and calm to her rattled mind and heart. And despite both our behaviors towards each other, she knows very clearly that we cannot be considered equals just yet for her praise to have any kind of significant meaning for me beyond what I already have.

But I cannot deny her honesty. She's every bit as sincere as she always had been, and she will protect her word for as long as she lives. I know she will. And that's all I'll ever need from this little girl, nothing more.

However...hearing such an affirmation again...I admit...it lightens the weight in my head. It feels very good.

It's been so long...

She drew back from our near-touch contact and leaned back against my clasped fingers behind her back, moving her small hands from both my cheeks towards the area above my nose and under my chin.

Her scratchings made me purr, making me pull her close and nip her wrists if I could reach them.

"Your humility astounds me, Jacob. Even if I had your powers of divinity and adaptability, I doubt I have the courage to do the same."

I stopped purring and glared down on her. She noticed my look and froze.

Oh really?

"On the other hand: your humility is disgusting, little girl. Even without those two things, you'd still throw yourself to the same kind suffering if it meant you could understand the people under your care. If you could stop lying like that, I would appreciate it."

She frowned, pouting again, "Have mercy on me, at least. It's not as if I know my own character completely like you do. And it's not like I have the privilege to immediately know a person's character just by a glance and a few exchanges of well-placed words."

Ahem? "The Black Crown, Theresa? Are you forgetting about it?"

She flicked my nose—AGH!

I removed one hand behind her back to wipe my nose and sneeze. Fuck, that hurt! And itches!

"How dare you accuse me of such, Jacob." The severe pain on my nose aside, this is actually the first time I've heard Theresa speak in a scolding tone, "I don't habitually peek into a person's character with my Arts just to know their character. I prefer to know them personally, little by little like civilized people, with exchanges of manners and dialogue."

After blowing into the back of my hand one more time, I calm down and say, "And that's why I like you." I ruffle her pink head with my tail, returning my free hand to behind her back and pull her close again to my chest, returning to our original position, "You're different. Your ways are not mine and you sometimes remind me of proper human virtues."

She puffed up, very pleased with herself, "It's an honor." She quickly got comfortable and leaned against the fluff on my chest like it's a pillow, crossing her arms with pretentious pride, "By the way, how is Buldrokkas'tee? The Mighty Patriot, as they call him now?"

"After his recent failures against me and his own heart, he pledged himself to my employment to serve his time in punishment. And now after 5 years, he's grown enough under my supervision that I can trust him to perform the duties I set for him without my guidance while I take the time to visit you."

Knowing Theresa, she can already tell that Buldrokkas'tee's pretty much a slave. Though I don't treat him like one, it doesn't mean he isn't. The idea of slavery during my youngest years is simply servitude under time, not human trafficking like what Kazimierz enjoys doing.

"If your emotions of him are of any tell, he's suffered so much and enough." She placed a hand on my chest, half-pleading and half-requesting, "Please, be kind and understanding to him. That's all I ask."

"I do understand him. And I'm very fair to him as I rightfully should. He earns his privileges every day, and his works leaves me full of joy, pride and accomplishment. His honorarium is already waiting for him in the haven once the first stage of his tenure is due."

"...I'm half-envious of him." She chuckled briefly, "According to some that knew your history, you are the most coveted master and benefactor, if not patron of all that serve you or are served by you. Your rewards would fulfill a man till the end of his days..."

...are you implying something, little girl?

I turn to look down on Theresa, and as I expected, she was already looking back up at me as she leaned against my chest.

It seems she's now intent on the reason why I visited her. The pleasantries and conversation just now are just a time for us to relax and unwind from our duties, made possible by the reality we're currently residing in.

Now it's time for some business.

Throat rumbling, I place my arm under her thighs before I stand up from the bed and set her back down on it, on which her demeanor completely changes as she puts her legs together, straightens her back and firmly holding her gaze upon me, one hand atop the other as it rests on her lap.

I don't see that little girl earlier anywhere now. Now I stand in the presence of Kazdel's King, ready to receive me in her presence and hear out my terms.

My throat released a pleased groan at such a shift. A good reminder from our first meetings that this girl is not completely naïve or weak in the mind. She knows her place on the throne very well. The admiration and worship every Sarkaz has for her is earned and justified.

I pull her desk chair closer and place it down in front of her before I sat down, regal and civilized like a human entering a King's court.

Then I begin the exchange, my throat rumbling deeply.

"Hail, King of Kazdel."

And I add nothing more, for that's all I'm ever going to hail her for. People might see it as demeaning compared to the hundreds I'd give to my opponents but they fail to see the significance of it. These titles are usually given to those who can fight me. But acknowledging an official position, especially someone that doesn't fight? That's not given freely. I've lived my life despising so many Kings and Queens, commonly failing to meet my expectations. Very few monarchs and leaders during my long life did I ever respected and called my friend.

"I am Jacob of Minos, son of Magnus and Sofia. Rogue god of the Isolated. Patron of Ursus' Infected Haven. I come bearing goods and goodwill, keen to discuss matters for our mutual and beneficial interests. Therefore, I propose a patronage, lending support to the leading person of Kazdel."

She nodded to me, "I am open to this discussion, Jacob of Minos. What sort of patronage do you offer and what are the terms that come with it?"

I took a deep breath before exhaling, seething through my bare teeth. "I come to contribute to your endeavors. I donate miracles and charity in dedication to your name. A deposit of my resources for you to use as you see fit."

She smiled politely, "So you're lending a loan to help our cause?"

"An investment." I firmly corrected, snapping out a growl as I briefly opened my mouth to reveal my teeth. "You will have nothing of value that can equal my worth by the time my due has come if it were."

"Is that out of precaution for your interests and out of mercy for us if such a scenario came to be?"

My throat hissed out lowly, my brow creasing into a glare.

….She doesn't see it yet, does she?

Or maybe she does, she's just simply hoping to be wrong about it. I understand why if it were the case. It's just out of love, a kind that I can wholeheartedly support. Unfortunately, it keeps her from seeing the reality clearly or just simply admitting it.

Which is why someone else has to assume the worse for her. Let that be me or someone else, and I know there is someone else in her inner circle that's thinking the same thing. That person knows better, and as much as I do too. I'm sure.

I sneered, furrowing my brow even deeper, "Out of fear. You are not only surrounded by allies. Beware the insidious hands around you and the hidden dagger concealed from behind. Scorched earth and barren lands brought by both do not pay debts. An investment will grant us both a hope of future gain…." Then I remind myself of her brother, adding a layer of growling to the Viper's hiss. "…..or mutual loss."

She was briefly silent for a few seconds, knowing what I'm talking about, "….In the light of such possibilities, do you still intend to pledge your name to my cause? You will risk becoming either the enemy of Kazdel or the enemy of the world. I have no assurance to offer you in light of these possibilities, I'm afraid."

Condemn me and end my life if I don't know that already, Theresa.

I nodded, "I do. I foresee the reward and the risk. They are equal in measure, uplifting or condemning us both in a foreseeable future of unthinkable circumstances. In spite of these factors, I will still contribute. For I see a possible opportunity will be made available if your works are made true and accomplished. And from that opportunity, I will collect my interests and propose again another patronage, this time for the restored Kazdel's benefit and for every Infected in the world."

Theresa nodded sagely, and considering the kind of miracle she knew me for, I can tell that she has a clue of what I'm getting at. "Certain factors concern me. You operate a different agenda within the territories of Ursus, do you not?"

Very good. She's being cautious.

"Yes, I do. But as I stated, this will benefit us both, and that includes my pilgrimage in Ursus. I suffer no significant loss in my resources and have more to spare for future expenditures."

"Another concern...is your patronage risking Kazdel being implicated by Ursus if your actions within its borders are discovered. In the worst-case scenario that you are caught, I cannot risk collateral to affect Kazdel in turn."

A justifiable worry. Kazdel is steadily rebuilding itself thanks to her and her brother. And every country in the world is already beginning to feel concerned over such a thing. The fact that Kazdel has been progressing properly to its resurgence without major action done by some of the Superpowers is a grace with an extremely short lifespan.

My patronage to her goals inside Ursus' borders might just reduce it to less than a year if I'm ever caught. Even with Ursus practically under a state of calamity thanks to its dying economy, it still has a formidable army. Vladimir's influence has quite the tendency to last for a long time, and his son is too weak to protect me from it.

But again, condemn and end my life if I didn't consider that either.

"Among the gifts I offer, I carry the miraculous means of communication and transport without the need of messengers, couriers or vehicles. For any resource and asset I donate, I shall deliver it within your reach and I need not leave the borders of Ursus to do so. Behold."

I hold out my hand towards her, palm up, and she turned to see a clump of white cold particles that suddenly appeared atop my grasp.

"What is that?"

"Snow." I crumpled it into a tight ball and dropped it to the carpet, crumbling apart easily and beginning to melt, "Ursus snow, scraped and collected from under the foot of a military general standing at attention before his Nation's flag and saluting it merely seconds ago. The phenomena will never be traced back to me and such a sight will never be held as truth to the ears of others. He will never know what became of the snow under his boot, for he never acknowledged its existence as more than the dirt underneath."

Theresa's quiet fascination is heard through her question, "And this 'miracle' of yours guarantees all of your expenditures to be held in complete secret?"

"According to my knowledge, which I can rightfully boast is unmatched whenever it so much as concerned me, only those of my closest circle ever knew about this miracle of mine. Its mechanisms are meticulously masked with years of learned elusion, deception, and misdirection. I have already tampered with much of Ursus' logistics in their weaponry since Tsar Vladimir's ascension, and I'm yet to be discovered."

Theresa mulled over her hands, thinking over my words. If she can find other concerning factors with my offer, I hope she does. Make it as many as possible if she could. It might be possible that I might have missed one that completely slipped my mind or forgotten a minor one that didn't seem significant but still needing to be considered.

"...What if Kazdel does not accept your patronage?"

Don't even need longer words for this one.

"That is for you to decide. Your people need only to follow your lead, not to decide for you. In addition, I was once a patron to many inhabitants of Kazdel. My name was passed down as an honored memory to their descendants. I hear their praise and reverence, even to this day. My goodwill is secure if it came to that."

Her ringed fingers curled into fists, "What if you become exploited? Embezzled? What if your patronage becomes something for schemers within or without Kazdel to take advantage of?"

I growled haughtily.

"I decide what I give. Without my personal blessings, no one will ask of anything of me, not even you. I offer options and you are to choose what most benefit your endeavors in the situation that calls for it. And as for the schemers and leeches of my patronage, that will be outside my hands. My contributions are yours to use as seen fit and what happens to them is entirely up to you. Until I deem it worthy of my intervention, such seething matters will be under your jurisdiction."

She interlocked her fingers together atop her lap, lowering her head just slightly to be deep in thought.

Think as long as you wish, Theresa. Risks, advantages, threats, opportunities, and other long-term factors—consider them all.

I've taken years to consider this patronage that will affect Kazdel as a whole, even digging deep to look into the internal factors of the country just to see what's really wrong. I had to think of every risks and possible downfalls that could possibly happen and conjured every possible solution to counter them, especially when it concerns Ursus.

I don't have enough solutions to perfectly secure everything, which is why this deal is considered a severe risk for me as well.

She and I continue discussing the many risks she could think up. For each one, I had a prepared response ready and waiting for it. I hoped she could bring up a factor or concern that I could not be quick to answer. I even wished that she brings up something that I would have no answer for, just so we can iron out this deal and reduce the risks around it, presumed or otherwise.

But no. As many as she could ask, there was no struggle for me in addressing every single one.

And it's more worrying than assuring for someone like me.

In my long life, I learned that there are no guarantees no matter how much you prepare until it finally strikes. It's only after the fact that you can call yourself overprepared when nothing of major incident happened.

And I'm never lucky enough to earn a complete streak of perfect plans no matter my experiences. There's always something that comes into existence without warning to disfigure everything, forcing me to improvise and sometimes make sacrifices or worse, abandon it all completely.

Gaul's fall as a nation or the Profound Silence in Iberia were just one of the many. The Khagan conquest was something else entirely—I don't even want to discuss it. They all happened due to factors I didn't see coming until it's too late, leaving me completely powerless to stop it from happening. No number of improvisations or sacrifices would have changed the outcome.

Who's to say what unexpected entity will menace my patronage to Theresa? I only wish that I can improvise properly if it ever came.

I hear Theresa release a sharp hissing breath. She straightened her posture and gazed down upon me, "I will ask again before I make my choice. Do you still intend to be Kazdel's patron, knowing all the dangers you and I are fully aware of?"

I roared irritably, stomping my hoof, "No!"

Her eyes were wide with shock at my answer.

"...W-what?"

My throat hissed and growled as I explained myself, baring my teeth, "You have misinterpreted my proposal. Therefore, I shall reiterate: I propose a patronage, lending support to the leading person of Kazdel. I will not contribute to the country Kazdel. I will not contribute to the Sarkaz people of Kazdel. I contribute only and specifically, to you, King Theresa of the Sarkaz people of Kazdel. Support to you. All of my resources only for you to use as you see fit. That is the term of my Patronage."

She held me in her eyes for a moment, then considered my words, pondering over it deeply in silence.

So I waited.

...then her eyes closed as she lowered her head, accepting the clear implications of our contract. I sense both hope and trepidation from her person. Only time will tell which one will guide her forward from then on.

She stood up, reaching for my hands.

I stood up as well and I receive her touch. Such small Sarkaz hands clasping on the first joint of my index fingers.

Looking deep into my eyes, she intoned, "I accept your kindness, Jacob of Minos. May this mark the beginning of our partnership and may Kazdel reap peace from the harvests of your making." I leaned slightly downwards so our foreheads can touch, and with this, the contract is signed with her name and made final.

Then she let go, falling down to her bed on her back with a bounce, arms spread, splaying all of her pink hair everywhere and sighing heavily, as if unlatching the Kingly demeanor off her person was as much as removing a heavy coat, "Goodness, am I glad to stop being so big and mighty. For once, I'm glad."

"For what?"

"To be this petite, because clearly someone has to make up for your size of presence."

I hissed, "Are you calling me obese, little girl?"

"Nooo~ I would never~"

I snorted, crossing my arms as I sat back down on the chair, shaking my horns. Time for the slaves in RIM Billiton to wake up from their dirtnap.

"So, if we're going to be partners from now on, what do you think of gaining from this? I forgot to ask."

"Irrelevant for now, and an investment's interest only increases if a deposit is made in the first place." I reached up to rub my eyes, sending out the command to start digging, "I heard tell of a certain 'something' buried in the sands of RIM Billiton. I also heard tell of a commission for a mining company there to find it being written at your request just today. But if I were to sign down my first deposit for my investments…."

I tagged Theresa's movements. She sat up, had her hands together and leaned her upper body forward, "Are you intending what I think you're intending?"

"Then I need not explain too deeply nor say what that 'something' is." I lower the hand rubbing my eyes, "I have already found its location. So I offer two options for you in light of this."

"Tell me. I'm eager to know."

I raise up one draconic finger, "Give me the prompt and I will commence for its swift excavation. The timeframe will be a month at least to a week at most. However, its escorted passage from there to here will be up to your management." I held up option finger number two, "The other choice will be to warp its location from there to here in a single blink of an eye. However, the first option will be revoked. Your commission to RIM Billiton's mining company will now be needed to excavate it in my place."

Suddenly, this little girl became meek. "No chance for me to request its buried location warped nearby instead?"

You little...!

I stomped my hoof on the ground, snapping my snout forward in an audible clack as I hissed at her. "No! I decide what I invest! I already stated that!"

Then I snorted at her as I backed away, crossing my arms with a huff. Theresa righted her posture after leaning away from the mouthful of teeth that came close to biting her nose off.

"Remember what I fear, Theresa." I reminded softly, turning to stare at the wall. Past this wall and into the distance, I am staring at the other leading but lesser figure of Kazdel. A factor that I discovered during my investigations to be the potential undoing of the both of us. I growled viciously, "Hastiness will cost us both. This I am certain without doubt."

She bowed her head solemnly, understanding. "...I understand. Forgive me for asking too much." Then her tone suddenly changed, a mischievous look crossing her face, "But you can at least allow me a moment to have a joke, yes? No need to be so serious all the time, otherwise your little Hanina's going to end up more like you when you clearly stated you want her existing outside of you."

Being sly now, are we?

"Hmph." I stood up and carried the chair back to its original space near her study.

"Will that be all?" She asked, knowing the gesture's meaning.

I lowered my head, "For now. I have a few more to offer but it can wait. At the moment, you and your circle must come to a consensus for the two options. I will decide the next selection from there."

Let me just...get this one horn off the top my forehead. It's gotten loose, I made sure.

Theresa's worried voice called out, "Um...Jacob...?"

"Give me a few seconds." I replied curtly.

Leave me be, this will only take a twist and a tug...urrrgh...!

There! Cerato horn off. A bit of a skewed sensation of balance on my head but I shook it off very quickly.

Let me just blow some hot air into this thing and clear out the bacteria as well as dry out the residue of blood. And while I do, my head's likely closing the hole left behind.

Once that's done and waited for it to cool, I walk near the bed before holding out my free hand to her.

She takes it, pulls herself up to her feet, then I place the horn atop the palm I'm holding before closing her fingers around it...barely. She has tiny fingers. It might as well be a mini-missile in her hands. "Once the decision is made, hold this and call my name. A proxy will relay your choice to me."

"Just like that?" She asked, baffled rather minimally, "You will hear your name being called so long as I held this...is this the miracle you talked about? Did it come with your acquired divinity?"

"Maybe." I answered vaguely. I'm not handing out the details that easily. I need to be afraid for our own safety.

Kneeling down to one leg, I then pull her close to place one last booping kiss on her forehead once again before embracing her small frame to my chest very tightly. She did her best to return the affections just as tightly.

"I suppose this is goodbye for now?" She asked, muffled from the face full of fur. "Back you go to your adventurous charity in Ursus with Buldrokkas'tee?"

I grunted softly in reply.

"We'll see each other again." I promised, "This time, without the passing decades in-between."

We held each other just a little longer, and I waited to see if she would let go first.

...it seems she isn't.

Fine, I'll do it myself.

Separating ourselves from the chest but still holding the other by the arms, I took a deep breath and blew a gentle gust of wind to Theresa's countenance, replaying the last gesture I did during the departure of our last meeting. And just like before, I take in the magnificent sight of her pink hair fluttering so majestically.

Once I'm out of breath, I stood back up and took a few steps back, letting our grasp slip free of the other.

Then, I revoke the peaceful silence of an oppressively-quiet room, the bright shine of a moon muffled by a cloudy sky, the warmth of a room left cold by an unlit fireplace, the privacy of a space guarded by Ascalon, and once the last traces of my flesh is siphoned back to me, I will be warped out of Kazdel's borders.

For I was never here in the first place, such is the logic of reality.

I'm still in Ursus, having never spoken to the King of Kazdel, drank her tea, and embraced her multiple times.

But I did not neglect to warn her. And compared to Buldrokkas'tee, she will heed me for her own sakes. It's already happening and she knows it.

It's time to face reality.

"Beware Your brother. The Deaf And Blind Will Be Our Undoing."

---

A hazy snowstorm. Not one provided by Jacob's divinity, but it's just as quiet and camouflaging. Buldrokkas'tee can work with these conditions.

Having groomed and fashioned the Chimera's minions, having salvaged numerous weapons and armors from the many patrols, gulags and pogroms he's ambushed for the last year, engendering them to his standard of combat and strategy, the quick-learning Adams were easily molded into the likeness of Buldrokkas'tee's ShieldGuards compared to Jacob's organized hordes of teeth, claws, tails and stolen Arts that knew how to perform complex plans.

Having discovered a mining area that was quite larger than the ones before but not large enough to be a quarry, Buldrokkas'tee quickly took action and set his eyes on target. Despite his size and reputation, the Wendigo is not completely oblivious to a stealthy approach towards enemy territory. Any Ursus soldier worth their salt and blood would understand that not every foe can be defeated upfront.

In this operation, he can afford to walk on the open road leading to the mines. With the snowstorm, not even the watchtower guards could see him from this distance. As he walked, he did so with a jarring casualness that isn't typically seen from the mighty Wendigo, holding his shield by his side instead of his front and tapping the butt of his halberd on the ground in deliberate taps like a walking stick.

Tap.

Every single one of the watchtower guards were suddenly shot in the head by crossbow bolts, their demise completely unnoticed and leaving the presence of Buldrokkas'tee's shadow units unchecked.

Tap.

The patrolman that was about to notice the Wendigo's presence had his throat pierced by a thrown knife. His partner fared no better when a bearded axe came down on his skull, splitting it in half and spilling the red and pink contents everywhere. Their bodies were quickly cleared out of the scene.

Tap.

The command center tent is assaulted by a quad of sword-wielding Adams, the 6 men idling inside quickly cut down before any could raise the alarm or scream.

Tap.

One unified volley of crossbow bolts, the guards surrounding outskirts of the mining areas are shot dead. Their bodies would disappear a few seconds later, pulled out of the scene by smaller but no less swift of Jacob's minions.

All military personnel outside the prisoner zones are completely wiped out, confirmed by the clicking from his communicator with the Adams serving as his watchers on the other end.

Buldrokkas'tee increased the speed of his steady march, the tallest and muscular of Jacob's minions fitted in heavy armor and large shields following close behind. The shadow units and the sniper squads followed his pace at fair and planned distances, awaiting the cue to take the shot or proceed ahead. The watchers stationed themselves at perfect vantage points, interconnected perceptions giving them a complete panoramic view of the entire gulag, relaying significant factors such as enemy positions, terrain layout and other similar details in all directions and axes to the Wendigo via a series of clicks and ticks personally-made by himself, taking inspiration from Morse code.

According to them, the numerous guards within the prisoner zone are gathering in the center, hauling a lone prisoner towards it. An execution? Or punishment? The pattern of the clicked information in his communicator says that the dealings look vague. Either way, Buldrokkas'tee must hurry—

A hurried series of clicks were relayed to him, carrying a sense of urgency. Singular digits indicating an unused word in the coded vocabulary.

P.

R.

E.

G.

N.

A.

N.

T.

Before he even heard the last two letters, Buldrokkas'tee charged, a sudden but unfamiliar fury igniting in his heart and his tactical and genius mind became clouded by a singular thought: Kill.

His Arts roared, his power armor came to life, and suddenly, the bulky gates were blown outwards from the sheer force of impact the moment his shield collided against its metal surface. As soon as his entry disrupted the commotion, drawing all attention to his and his substitute ShieldGuards' presence, his sniper army and shadow units struck quickly.

Onlooking snipers were shot dead, overseers near the prisoners were cut down from behind, and the vanguard charged in from the opening he provided. There were no battle cries, just the rapid footfalls of monsters disguised as disciplined soldiers of Ursus and the ensuing panicking of the guards.

Both mundane and horrifying Arts were thrown, destroying the security tents in a cluster of earthen stakes and molten eruptions.

Those who tried to retaliate ended up facing either small forces that leapt at them with no regard for either pain nor death, or faced against a hulking squadron of ShieldGuards that blocked their every blow and grabbed them by the throat before either crushing them or impaling them on the nearest sharp object.

The ones who were close to the pregnant prisoner were handed the worst deaths the slaves of the Chimera could hope to conjure in their endless cruelty. One was grabbed from all sides, torn limb from limb and his organs divided amongst hungry mouths. Another was hacked apart by axes and swords, his agonized screams lasting longer than it reasonably should. The most unfortunate of them were thrown into a gathered number of Adams and was subsequently devoured whole as they tore off their facial coverings and gorged like a pack of starving animals, greedily taking what wasn't touched.

And Buldrokkas'tee threw all of his fury into a single throw towards the person he knew was the leading officer of this gulag, targeting the one who's more well-dressed, cleaner and fat, a disgraceful sight for a soldier of Ursus, panicking amidst the fury and bolting towards whatever he thought was an escape.

His corpse endured being split in half from a Wendigo's thrown weapon and instead was plunged into the ground, his body horribly mangled from impact and his limbs were bent in all the wrong angles.

Admittedly the messiest raid he's ever accomplished in his tenure.

Buldrokkas'tee didn't bother to cast the weapon back to his hand, immediately throwing his shield to the side and kneeling down to the fallen pregnant woman, scooping her until she rested on her back and keeping his hand on the back of her head. In his gentlest and kindest voice, he assured her, "It's okay, you're safe now. No one will touch you and your little one anymore."

The woman grunted, her arms and sides either cut up or scarred from numerous whippings, and her bruised face was scrunched up in great pain, grabbing her belly. "My….grrgh…child….I think...urrrgh…!"

Horror and realization crossed his mind like a bolt of lightning, his iron-like composure allowing him to address the Adams that weren't hunting down what remained of the gulag's guards. "Hey, soldiers! Bring heat and fire! And gather some snow too! Dry cloth as well! Warm! Hurry! This women is about to bring life to the world!"

"They..." The woman breathed out heavily, agonized tears flowing freely from her eyes, "...they were...they were going to..."

Buldrokkas'tee saw a wet patch on the woman's red rags covering her bulging belly, and he saw a puncture wound through the wide horizontal slit on the cloth, freely leaking blood.

There was a bloody knife on the ground, the sharp edge coated red and was dropped too close to her.

Terror fell over Buldrokkas'tee when he realized what could have happened to this poor woman if he were a minute or even a second too slow upon arriving.

They were going to rip her open. What were these soldiers' thinking? For all their cruelty, this was beyond wicked. How could they go down this low?

This was a true act of evil. How could they do this? What wicked mind would allow this inhumanity onto a woman with child?

"HEALERS! GET OVER HERE NOW!" The Mighty Patriot of Ursus trembled as he moved to cover the bleeding wound carefully. His voice shook, coated in desperation, and he was overcome with an overwhelming cascade of emotions. "Please, be strong...! You must be strong for the precious one that will soon rest in your arms! Be strong! You need to heed my words! Do as I say and we can greet the life you'll bring with song and joy! It must know the face of its mother and her love!"

The woman was shivering, her breathing was beggining to shorten. She could barely open her eyes. "I...can't...it hurts...!"

Anger. Horror. Lamentation. Relief. Worry. Joy. Panic.

All these emotions at once, Buldrokkas'tee could not maintain the famed image of strength he was known for, reducing him to the mere man he truly was.

He was back to the days with his wife, when she was with Grrovae'zzeal in her belly and she was about to give birth to him. It was the only instance in the long years of his life that he felt true fear, crippling worry and concern threatening to bring him down and take everything away from him.

"Please, do not say that." He pleaded. "You are a mighty woman. If you can bear this child for so long in the gulags with its cruel overseers, you can give birth to new life as well! Do not rest yet! Open your eyes! Please! The healers are coming. They can heal your body but only you can push. Only you can! So please, endure a little further!" He snapped his gaze to everywhere around him, roaring, "HEALERS! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?"

A rapid tapping of feet quickly arrived to his desperate beckoning, numerous Adams in Ursus armor either bringing a large bundle of cloth in their arms or moving directly to the woman, Healing Arts emanating on their arms and mending the hole on the woman's belly.

Heat permeated off every single one of Jacob's minions, fighting back against the snow's merciless cold and warming the woman as they surrounded her without obstructing the air. They laid her over a bed of cloth, all wet from the melted snow that were gathered but just as warm.

The healers were through, moving away as they closed her wounds and cleaned her body of all whip marks and scars.

But she's not moving. She isn't waking up. She laid limp atop the Wendigo's hands.

"No...nonono...! Wake up...! Wake up!" The terror mounting even higher, Buldrokkas'tee urged her, shaking her shoulder, unsure of how hard he should do so, "Please! You cannot sleep! No! NO!"

Buldrokkas'tee urged her, each one more desperate than the last. The idle Adams looked on motionlessly, indifferent and unaffected like the hands and feet they were, merely awaiting the next command.

In spite of how much the Wendigo shook and pleaded, the woman could not wake up.

His eyes welling with his tears, he turned to the nearest Adam, "You! Do something! Anything!"

He only received a blank stare, the minion remaining still and awaiting a proper command.

"Why are you just standing there!? I said do something! Aren't you Jacob's creation!? You should know how to deal with this! You should! Or at least tell me what to do! I can do it myself! I will not fail! I swear!"

The Adam remained unmoving, ever so patient for the command to kill, completely useless in a scenario where warefare had no place to be in.

"Nooo...! NO...! HELP!"

In this very moment, the mighty Patriot cried for help.

"SOMEBODY! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

There was no Ursus war hero anymore. No brilliant tactics. No unstoppable marches or charges. Not even the presence of Jacob. Buldrokkas'tee completely turned into just a man, completely helpless and not knowing what to do.

For this incredible show of great strength and humility, his pleas were finally heard.

The Adams snapped their gazes to a single direction, and Buldrokkas'tee followed their gazes, seeing a gulag prisoner running towards him as hurriedly as he could with his malnourished and stickly-thin body, a senior man wearing what remained of his rags in the cold snow, but his eyes and movements held the vigor of nearly 10 men.

"My savior, I heard your call!" The old man wheezed, slowing down as he reached him and the collapsed woman. As soon as he quickly caught his breath, he started, "I was a doctor before I was Infected. Tell me what's wrong, quickly."

"This woman, she's about to give birth but she's passed out. She's too exhausted and weak. I had the slaves heal her body but she still could not wake up."

The old doctor knelt down, placing his fingers on the woman's jugular while his hand caressed the belly, "A premature birth, an exhausted patient...and without any proper instruments anywhere or even a sanitary environment in an accursed place like this...oh no."

Buldrokkas'tee's horrors continue to mount. "Doctor, what's wrong?! What's happening?"

The old man turned to face him, his mouth almost hesitating to spit out his assessment. But after a regretful wave fell over his face, he swallowed it down and grimaced, "We will have to perform a C-section to save the infant."

The Wendigo fell silent, barely leeting out a single word, "...What?"

"We need to cut her open." The doctor paraphrased, the same wave of great sadness and regret crossing his features before he forced it down, "If I had a better area, with instruments a-and time, or if she was still awake, I...I wouldn't have come to this decision...but it's the only choice I have. There's nothing else I could do—"

"Do it."

"—for her but for her child..." The doctor did a double take, turning to Buldrokkas'tee in disbelief, "Wait, what?"

"In a better environment, is a C-section survivable?"

"Y-yes, but we do not have the luxury of so many essential things like a full medical team, instruments and a sanitary environment as well as so-"

"Then do it quickly! Save her child!" He paused, quickly calling over every healer in the vicinity. Then he returned to the old man, "The warriors will maintain her, keep her alive until we close her up."

"Keep her alive?" The doctor turned to these warriors, completely dressed in Ursus uniforms and bloodied from the enemies they felled or devoured, pale-faced, red-mouthed and emotionless, holding weapons dripping from fresh kills. "Could these warriors of yours actually do such a thing?"

"They were created….by my friend, he is a healer of no equal, closing wounds before they could bleed and even resurrecting even the most recently-dead. I'll be seen choking on my own blood if I dare assume that his spawns could do any less than him."

Buldrokkas'tee has learned. The same mistake won't happen again. He will trust the Chimera. He will not sacrifice another precious life before he could be forced to understand that.

The old man held the giant man before him, a brief silence before he conceded, "Then I….then I'll welcome any hope to save 2 lives if we can help it." The old man quickly picked up the bloody knife near him, turning to the soldiers nearby, "Someone prepare me a small basin of hot water. And a warm dry blanket. Quickly."

"Do as he says!" The Wendigo barked, and the Adams quickly brought the two items to the old man under no less than 5 seconds, one cradling a coffee mug full to the brim with steaming hot water in its gloved hands while another brought the coat of a dead officer, completely dry and free of blood.

"These will do." The doctor took the mug, ignoring the scalding heat that washed into his bare hands and dipped the blade into the liquid, washing the blood off and sanitizing it. Whipping the residue off, he returned to the woman, steeling himself and steadying his breath as he widened the slit on the cloth, "May the Emperor guide me..."

An incision...

"AaAAARGH!"

And the woman is suddenly woken up from the excruciating intrusion of hot metal on her flesh, throwing her upper body forwards before slumping back down. Buldrokkas'tee quickly held her still and gripped her hand, murmuring words of comfort and safety.

The healers took action as well, careful not to get near the doctor's space but staying close enough for their outstretched arms containing their master's potent healing Arts towards the new mother, dulling her pain for now and preparing to close her back up upon command.

The doctor narrated his every progress and action, detailing every layer he's reaching, the delicate parts he's avoiding, and every sight he could see while Buldrokkas'tee never turned his eyes away from the woman's face, paying attention to the slightest movements so he can assure her in every way he could.

"Okay, I can see the infant. I am going to pull it out now. Ready the cloth, my friends."

Buldrokkas'tee tensed even more than he thought he already was, practically crushing the mother's hand, only held back by his learned restraint since his wife. He never stopped speaking, relaying every bright prospects that he had enjoyed with his own child to her, swearing even on his own life that she and the child will have everything he once had.

In his peripheral vision, the pounding in his head deafening the doctor's narrations, he can see a small thing being extracted from the mother's womb and then placed atop the officer's coat, bundled warmly and gently. The other Adams moved to provide their warmth as well, making sure the winter doesn't even dare touch the little one.

Buldrokkas'tee watched as the woman's face slowly fell into a relief she nearly forgotten, almost appearing as if she was merely sleeping in spite of the gaping hole on her once-bulging belly.

"Doctor…..the child…?"

The old man moved as if he didn't hear, all of his focus magnetized to the bundle in his arms, tapping or rubbing the child's chest and back, urging for a response.

Buldrokkas'tee finally realized the blurring of his vision. He's beginning to weep, his fear forcing out a whole cascade. The fear of a lost life. The loss of a loved one.

It sent him straight back to many years before, during the day when the mighty Patriot set out into the Tundra to hunt the Chimera. The latter was completely off his guard, shaped like a man, his tail shorter than Buldrokkas'tee's height, staring at the latter's arrival in disbelief and asking a question in horror.

"Did you leave your son by himself?"

A second after, his radio roared out orders from his superiors to abandon the mission and hurry back as the war between the 5th and 6th army reached a chaotic peak on a single night now that the Patriot isn't there.

The betrayed and damaged look Jacob gave him was something that haunted his dreams for the rest of his life.

"What have you done!?"

And when he came back, he found his son dead from a list of names, his body buried in a mass grave, barely recognizable except for his horns.

"Please….." Buldrokkas'tee begged. Who he was begging to, he doesn't even know. The Sarkaz gods, the mother, the unwaking child, his old emperor's spirit, or even the formerly godlike being that was Jacob—he couldn't pick one, he only wanted to hear the child's first cries. "….please….wake up…..please…"

And then he heard it.

A cry. A small, weak cry. A heralding call of a joy he once heard. Now, it belongs to the mother herself. He turned to look, and he saw the baby boy make his life known to the world itself and declare his victory over the impossible odds he was set against.

"He lives….!" The doctor announced, his voice rising in hope and joy, "The child lives…..! He lives! Praise the Emperor!"

He heard roars and cries of celebration from the side, and he turned his head to see the rest of the Infected prisoners that have exited the mines hollering and hooting, throwing their arms to the air and embracing each other, tears of endless hope and joy flowing from their eyes. In spite of the misery they have endured before his arrival, they took this joy and made it their own, settimg their hopes alight."

Buldrokkas'tee just realized that the snow no longer fell. He looked up to the sky and saw the clouds brightening, the sun behind them about to peek through and behold the world. Summer was coming this month, and at this exact moment, it couldn't have been a better timing than anything the Wendigo could have imagined.

"My savior." The doctor called him, bringing his attention down to the old man holding out the precious life towards him, bundled and warm, wriggling and continuing his rebellious cries against his oblivious brush against death. "Please hold him for now. It's time I attend to the mother. It's her turn to demand my full attention."

The Adams already moved to relieve the newest mother from his grasp, scooping her from his hands, untangling his grasp on her own and pushing it away.

Numb from the relief and the brightness of what's happening, he compliantly reached forward with such ginger movements, and the doctor gently placed the small bundle into his gigantic hands.

The Wendigo quickly adjusted his grip in the same way he held his baby Grrovae'zzeal, comfortable and close to his chest so he can look at his precious face as he knelt.

A ray of yellow and warmth creeped on the ground next to him. It swiftly moved to cast down on him and the boy. He moved to let the child take it all in its unrestrained glory.

The baby's cries gently fell silent and his face relaxed gently, falling into a peaceful and restful sleep for the very first time.

Such a tiny and fragile thing resting carelessly atop his hands, and it was able to bring a Wendigo, the Mighty Patriot of Ursus, Buldrokkas'tee, down into tears. He laughed lightly, gently bouncing the boy, "And you cannot even hold a mere knife or axe. You are the mightiest of all Terra, little one."

In this very mine where prisoners go to suffer and die, the world suddenly felt warm and kind. It was at peace, as if in commemoration of this birth.

---

"I thought you have given all that you had for us, my savior. Instead, you still have more to spare."

"Please, doctor, just call me Buldrokkas'tee. If you can't, then just call me Patriot. I'm actually the one who is saved. If it wasn't for you, then Alisa and her child...I don't know if I would have forgiven myself..."

"If you hadn't come to liberate us from that accursed gulag, I doubt we would have saved them both. And I will never forget the Hero of Ursus' strength to cry for help. That was when it all made a difference for all of us. Every single one of them as well as I would have died in that mine with them. Whether by hypothermia, weakness, starvation, or when we exhausted the mine of all resources and our usefulness before they kill all of us to hide the evidence, we would still be dead there at some point."

"..."

"And now, look at us. Look at me. Look at them. Just...look at Alisa. Ever since we were condemned to the mines, we never imagined that we could go back to the things we used to enjoy. We submitted to despair, barely clinging to the closest idea of a hope. And now behold! I see smiles. I see laughing. I see singing and dancing. I see jokes. I see Alisa and her boy being surrounded in blessing and cheers by your warriors, celebrating his baptism to an old Ursus custom that we have apparently forgotten to time."

"My friend lived during the days when it was common practice. He held it sacred, so he baptized my son the same way, and he celebrated like it was the best day of his life….is something wrong?"

"Fo-forgive me for saying this but you've been enumerating many feats this friend of yours could do and I'm starting to think you're joking. Reviving people back from the dead is one thing but to live long enough for a common tradition to be lost to time?"

"Then I will leave you in disbelief until you meet him yourself. Whether that he visits us or I bring you all to the haven he created to shelter the Infected from Ursus' tyranny, he can regale you better than my words can."

"I…see…."

"You will see."

The two fell silent, simply looking on as the festivities sang and cheered endlessly, as if the most recent events were completely nonexistent. They picked everything the gulag had and fitted them all just to have this celebration in the center.

A large pot over a fire cooking a delicious stew Jacob taught him thanks to the stocks of canned foods and rations the fat officer had been keeping secret from the men under his command.

His most comfortable chair, placed close to the warmth and Alisa sat, her baby boy, Joy, asleep in her arms and basking in her love.

The prisoners managing to find a guitar and playing a merry song, accompanied by a band of young men and women singing their souls out, the rest of the prisoners danced and clapped their hands, all of their misery and pain shed away to welcome hope and joy again.

And the Adams, murderous and hateful variations of Jacob's creations, made from the bodies of dead Ursus soldiers that earned the Chimera's boiling wrath, deprived of all personality and free will except the will of their master, wreathed Alisa with a crown of flowers that had no reason to survive in a snowy environment, kissed Joy's head, pampered them both endlessly, and now they dance and celebrate with the most animated movements they could do that closely resembled their former selves, their pale faces beginning to capture the look of bliss.

The sheer humanity of their movements entranced the prisoners to their presence, unafraid of the uniforms they wore and instead grabbing their hands to be the partner of a dance, a long and strange conversation, or even a drinking game from the bottles of vodka they hoarded.

The doctor turned to his savior, and he was caught off-guard to see the towering giant having taken off his skull helm and lowered the cloth on his mouth, revealing a senior man with short-cut black hair and a slight goatee, adorned by a haunting pair of gnarled horns that resemble the branches of dead trees. Though he had no wrinkles, his eyes gave the impression of many long years lived, not all good.

And they freely shed tears. His lips cracked the smallest smile, and yet all of his joy seemed to emanate endlessly from it.

"What's wrong, Patriot?"

The Wendigo chuckled, closing his eyes as he shook his head, "It's nothing. I just simply realized what my friend had been trying to ask of me before he departed."

"And…what sort of answer did you suddenly come upon?"

"That I was a dull and complete fool of a soldier who barely left the barracks and his commanding officer's influence. Those useless military expansions. The useless accomplishments…and those war-hungry nobles and their ambitions that are bringing the country to ruin. It's about time that I left it, and look at the people outside of it. To finally look at what was worth fighting for….what my friend saw from the start."

---

At least you now perfectly understood, Buldrokkas'tee.

If you couldn't find fulfillment, accomplishment or even joy in doing what's right and seeing the results, then I completely failed you….

….and that it was a mistake to let you live.

I sighed in content.

"Hail, milord Jacob of the Three Heads, may I be so audacious as to bother the Master of this land with a question?"

I sighed again, this time in discontent.

"For goodness sake, Lenard, stop speaking in either ceremony or formality. I'm merely the land owner, not the Emperor. I eat on the same table as all of my tenants so don't raise me any higher than it's needed."

The old doctor smirked slyly, "I beg pardon. It's the most amusing to see your irritation."

"Will you be amused when I reach my breaking point if you don't stop?"

"It'd be an accomplishment, sir, considering that I've broken your iron will that lasted a whole millennium."

My tail slapped the ground behind me, spooking the nearby joggers or picnic goers.

Lenard simply smirked again, even chuckling at my outburst. "Calm down, milord. You'll only look young and immature if you do that again."

By fuck, the audacity of the elderly. Not that I'm one to talk but to be on the receiving end of someone younger than me….!

"What was the question?" I asked neutrally.

He stopped the joking immediately, clearing his throat and looking ahead of him towards the lake, "Now….Evan asked me to inquire something for you on his behalf. He asks when will our savior from the Tundra come to enter this haven."

I see what's going on here.

"Was Evan asked by Gro before he asked you?"

Lenard raised an eyebrow interestingly, "Why such presumptions? I didn't even say anything about master Gro."

"He's the only person in this place that has any reason to even ask about Buldrokkas'tee when the rest of you, including the ones he personally rescued and delivered here, never once did the same because he already told you the answer. And I don't expect someone of Gro's temperament and circumstances to ask me himself. He'd rather relay the question through 5 people if he has to."

And the boy is still young too, among other reasons. His behavior is understandable, and I can empathize his reasons why he won't ask me. It's a very personal matter for him and there's no way he could actually talk about Buldrokkas'tee with someone of my prowess and position when his mind isn't even settled to the idea of seeing him again to this day.

The boy's confused. For his race's standards, he's someone very young despite his age.

"Hmph." The old man simply sighed, swinging his arms back and forth in a range that wasn't normally possible for his age. "Nothing truly escapes you, does it? I could barely make up an excuse to evade your suspicion."

Pfft. If I could not, then I failed the years being his guardian.

I knew he's been gathering any bit of information about Buldrokkas'tee from every prisoner brought in to the haven with any chance he gets even before I left the Wendigo to himself and returned here from Kazdel, whether by eavesdropping, engaging in gossip and rumors about outside, or even asking directly by baiting the desired topic from the person who had direct contact with the Patriot.

And it's all behind Hanina's back and mine.

"Or rather Gro isn't being subtle enough to hide it."

"Nor does how he feels." He added, which matched my thoughts as well. "Despite what happened before or what he says, he still misses his father, perhaps more than anything when in here, he can easily have what he can work for. What he cannot have with his efforts except to simply be patient….it's making him restless."

I hummed in agreement.

The boy's been spacing out more often than usual today, and it shows when he's by himself, barely progressing on the books he's reading when he's usually at the last page under a week or less. What's going through his mind is very clear.

"Buldrokkas'tee's tenure is nearing its last." I decided to answer. "One more year and he will receive his honorarium."

Lenard hummed, pleased. "Will it be a festival?"

"...no. Upon Gro's graduation, the moment will privately belong to them both. And I mean without interruption or disturbance." I emphasized, "What comes from it will be outside of me."

"...I hope they reconcile."

"That's yet to be our concern, Lenard." I pointed out, then I wave a hand to the lake before us. "For now, would you like to take a trip around the water for a while? I'd like to hear about Alisa and Joy. I haven't visited them in years."

The body of water before us is a very expansive lake, clean and shiny, occupied by many swimmers, divers or fishers on boats.

Once upon a time, this place was dry and there used to be a geyser that spewed out spring water in the center endlessly until it eventually built up the water levels and hit the limit, the excesses going down the hill into a wide rapid river that will reach the common residential areas.

It's practically a pond in the middle of a 4-kilometer wide grass park, decorated meticulously by tall trees, shrubs and many beautiful flowers the residents took years to maintain.

A perfect place to jog, sit down, have a picnic, go to a date, or just to take in the scenery. Despite the constant snow, the snowflakes don't seem to land anywhere on this wonderful place, keeping everything in its natural colors.

It wasn't my idea but I'm glad I endorsed on the project.

There were once too many finbeasts in the lake that so many fishing-related contests had to happen just to cull their numbers. Never eaten so much fish in a single day, that time. The things people come up with when they have time is amazing.

Lenard laughed as he turned to me, looking keen to the idea, "Keen to serve Alisa and her boy a scrumptious fish dish today?"

Well, well. Look who's being sharp today...

"Deductions and inductive reasonings are my hobby, Lenard." I warned, "Do not try to take that away from me."

"Oh, I would never!" He exclaimed in mock outrage as he proceeded to one of the spare rowboats available piled up and tied on the dry shore, "That was but a lucky guess on my part. It'd be beneath a feeble old doctor such as this one to take from his venerable self's possessions."

And he's being a sly shit again with that stupid form of speech. "Lenard...!"

"Yes, milord?" His tone immediately changed, as if he wasn't talking to me seconds ago. I can't see his face with his back turned to me as he untied the ropes but I can tell that he's smirking "I am just preparing our little vehicle for our fishing trip. Did you need something?"

Grrr...!

"I'll be ahead of you and find us a good fishing spot." I told him, proceeding towards the lake. Once I reach the water, my bare soles landing on the water's surface, I then saunted towards the center with my hands in my pockets, whipping my tail against the waters behind me, splashing and disturbing the waters. Just for fun.

The swimmers, divers and fishers immediately started cheering and hollering my name the moment they saw me walking on the water. They either called me over to join the swim, dive down to find some fancy treasure or help catch the monster-sized finbeast that actually lives here. I always feel blessed when they do that, and slightly embarrassed. The least I could do was politely refuse and suggest plans to come here next weekend for a bit of an event.

I almost forgot that Lenard's an old man when his movements and speech are livelier than his appearance. Compared to the other seniors that come here and gain their body's original vigor when they were young, he's the only one that acted like he became young again without sacrificing his wisdom.

Quite different compared to when he and his group first arrived here.

I wonder if you have something to do with that, Buldrokkas'tee?