"Please, do not say that, Rudeus. As the master of the house and Felix's master, I must apologize for Felix's mistreatment of you," a strong and feminine voice resonated.
"No, no. It's alright, Crusch-sama. I don't think anyone could have expected that would happen," Rudeus readily replied, unable to accept her apology.
'How did things end up like this,' he thought.
When the mage awoke the next day, he found a tired and weary Felix desperately casting his healing magic on his sleeping body. Felix sighed in relief only after speaking, his head dropping onto the bed.
"Ferris is really sorry, Rudeus-kyun. I never knew the Boko fruit would do that, nya," Felix's muffled cries continued to echo in his mind.
The Boko fruit had successfully activated his natural body's mana supply. Had he had a gate to manage and lock down the overflowing energy inside, it would have been an excellent temporary boost to his magic.
However, Rudeus did not have a gate, and to make matters worse, those curses hindered his body's natural ability to store mana. Without the top to regulate the pressure inside, it overflowed like a ruptured water balloon, expelling nearly every mana drop from his body.
As it turned out, Rudeus had been in a coma for the past 11 hours, showing no signs of waking up. And Felix, being the healer he was, had spent every minute of it by his bedside casting every healing spell. His sudden fainting was enough to make the doctor panic, but with parts of his hair also changing, Felix was thrown head over toe as he frantically tried to revive the still barely alive mage. By the time he woke, Felix had exhausted his mana supply, and a clump of Rudeus' hair changed brilliant white. As puzzling as the change was, the other residents kept their questions to themselves out of consideration.
"Crusch-sama, please. I don't blame you or Felix for this. I know he can be a bit mischievous, but Felix didn't have any ill intentions and only thought to help me with my condition. It would help me if you could waive any punishments and continue to help me with my curses," he politely requested.
'I don't want to put him out of his job. Besides, I don't think this is much of a deal…'
Yet, despite the absolute panic from his doctor, Rudeus didn't seem to take too much heed to his condition. Sure, he'd rather not die for a silly reason, but he managed to pull through. There wasn't a point in dwelling on the past. It was better to work towards the future.
Or so he mused.
Felix was a dear friend to the Dutchess. She would personally vouch for the man's integrity. Despite his playful nature, Crusch never believed Felix would use his gift with malicious purposes in the guise of treatment. But that didn't change the fact that Rudeus nearly died from the treatment while under the protection of the Karsten family. If he had died, she would have nothing but apologies for the Mathers and Emilia, the two who personally asked for Rudeus' safety.
But moreover, how could the man be so calm? Was this really the words of a man who nearly died from medical malpractice? Was the man not afraid of death? Was this what Wilhelm meant by his eyes? The mystery only grew, and Crusch's sigh coincided with one of her servants reminding her of an earlier appointment. Whether she wanted to or not, this conversation would have to continue another day.
"You seem quite different today,' Wilhelm commented.
Rudeus stood up from his words only moments after being knocked down by the butler. He was panting heavily after another sparring session but still had the strength to move when his mind depended on it.
"Different? Does that mean I'm finally improving?" Rudeus excitedly asked in between heavy breaths.
Wilhelm sighed in reply, mumbling that wasn't what he meant.
Rudeus' excited expression frowned the instant, but he didn't let it bother him too much. He had yet to improve an inch after reaching intermediate rank with Ghislaine all those years ago. There was no reason to believe he'd suddenly improve now with Wilhelm. For now, all he could do was keep trying. At worst, his sparring with Wilhelm would at least sharpen his resolve and athleticism. You couldn't live life seriously if you gave up.
'Well, he isn't talking about my hair. Everyone seems to pretend it's not there out of politeness.'
"What I mean are your eyes. They look calmer–as if a heavy weight has been dropped. Has the break from your treatment helped with your demeanor?" He asked.
After discussing with the Dutchess, Felix declared he'd take a break from the treatment and swiftly locked himself in his studies. He didn't leave until the next day. Nobody knew what happened in the study, but a few servants heard the frantic flipping of pages inside and some mild murmurs of confusion. He looked like he aged ten years when he finally came out but proudly proclaimed he'd start again with Rudeus' treatment. So whatever it was, it must have been worth it.
But that couldn't be why.
"I… don't quite get what you're saying. I guess I slept better yesterday, but I don't feel physically better," Rudeus pondered.
"Hmmm, is that so," Wilhelm murmured.
"Well, actually…." Rudeus said.
It seemed Wilhelm's sharp sense had detected something. The eyes he saw were not the ones he saw when they first met. No, today, those eyes were the exact opposite. Free of malice or stress, his eyes were weightless and calm. Wilhelm didn't realize something good had happened to the man recently. All he heard was the accident with Felix, but perhaps there was some good news in the boy's life.
Taking a step closer, Wilhelm drew in as he anxiously awaited Rudeus.
"It's not much, but whenever I talk to Crush-sama… my left kinda… twitches? I don't know why, but whenever I'm with her…" Rudeus trailed until he stopped mentioning it altogether.
'A certain Empress pops into my mind, but I can't tell that to Crusch and Wilhelm!'
Picking up the wooden sword from the ground, Wilhelm stopped quietly, leaving the courtyard, showing no emotions to indicate his disappointment.
"Then perhaps we should postpone our sessions for some time," he murmured, indicating it was not a suggestion.
"Hmm? Well, if you say so," Rudeus replied, not noticing the hint of venom in Wilhelm's words.
He tried to follow Wilhelm as he dusted off the grass and dirt on his training outfit. Only to be interrupted by a sudden shout bursting with anxiety.
"Rudeus-sama!" The voice cried out.
It was the voice of Rem. No, it should have been her voice. It should have been instantly recognized by Rudeus when his colleague spoke out. But the thought of the cold and distant, perfect maid sounding so distraught was too foreign.
"Please come quick, Rudeus-sama! My sister…" Rem cried, and she burst inwards from the main gate. She was helping with groceries with the mansion maids, but as soon as she felt "it," she ran full speed back towards the mansion.
And when Wilhelm turned around, his eyes locked with the mage. Not on his distressed face or body dashing towards the wailing Rem. No, those were just the normal reactions to such an imminent development. It was his eyes he drew to. Those eyes were not those he saw at the Roswaal mansion, nor the eyes he had just seen just a few moments ago.
Free of any calmness or stout determination, just as he worried, only dread filled those two dead eyes.
Sighing, he left the courtyard to alert his master of the sudden development.
"Has Rem told you the situation?"
A strong voice asked out within the dimly lit meeting room of the Karsten manner. As her words left her mouth, they all turned towards the blue-haired maid, Rem, who caused the initial panic.
"It was only a second, but I sensed a troubling sensation from my connection with my sister. My sister could have used her clairvoyance to get a better picture, but…"
'I couldn't,' those last words left unsaid.
"So, some nyasty synesthesia was at play here? It must have been quite extreme for you to feel it all the way here."
Felix's words were devoid of his playful/whimsical mannerisms and meows now, even though his customary accent remained. He just couldn't help himself with it. But still, this was no place or time to joke around.
"But it came from the Mather's domain, correct? I've been detecting some troubling movements around the vicinity of the mansion. But to think they'd unfold so quickly…" Crusch spoke.
"Crusch-sama, what do you mean by troubling movements? What did you foresee? Do you… do you think my sister is in danger?" Rem asked impatiently.
"It was only rumored then. We didn't believe things would escalate so quickly. But with their advances' timing and starting location, only one resolution comes to mind. Namely, it must mean the Witch Cult has shown their hand," Crusch said.
'Witch Cult? I… where have I heard of that before? I vaguely remember the name from one of the books in the library, but I can't pull up anything concrete. Was it… was it from one of the history books? Yeah, I think one of their members attacked a Vollachian army base… What was his name… Konrad?'
The gears in his head slowly turned with each second passing through the meeting room. With the small tidbits of information floating through his mind, he could make an educated guess about the militant group, but nothing solid surfaced.
However, perhaps his memory wasn't helping since his readings were to help with his language lessons rather than his genuine desire to preview the history of this world.
'No… I'm sure this body's memories were better than this, though…'
But breaking his thoughts on his inability to find an answer, the small, quiet voice beside him spoke up.
"Witch cult…" Rem whispered.
It was only a whisper. A voice only audible to the speaker and rarely loud enough for anyone else to hear. It was a voice so small you wouldn't have heard it had it been any other topic.
"Haa…"
But the words that came out from the maid. The voice, Rudeus, had become familiar. The voice, while cold, had never escalated beyond that, was different this time.
"Re… Rem?" Rudeus carefully called out the girl's name as he turned to look at her.
Her fists balled, shaking as every muscle in her arms drew strength. The tips of her fingers had gone pale white under the strain. Her lips trembled, streaks of blood trickling down as she bit down unknowingly from the scowl. Her breaths staggered, unsteady, and shaken as her thoughts tumbled in her mind. And her eyes…
Her eyes were filled with pure loathing as if just the thought of this cult was abhorrent to her.
'I've never seen Rem react like that ever. I thought she was a bit cold and mean the first time we met, but this is just… That's not a normal reaction, is it?'
"Crusch-sama, what can you tell us about the Witch Cult?" Rudeus asked, turning away from the seething girl.
"They've gone quiet ever since for some time now, but I believe the Margrave's announcement to support a silver-haired half-Elf may have caused them to stir. We've been expecting something like this to happen and already shared our intelligence with Lord Roswaal, but we never anticipated such quick action from the Cultists."
Her words trailed off as she quieted her own words of her volition. The Margrave was no fool. He was the heir to the Mather family, who served the kingdom of Lugunica as its Royal magician for centuries. It wasn't a bluff to call him the greatest magician of his generation. A man of his caliber was indeed capable of preparing against an attack.
But somehow.
The reaction the two servants gave her was shouting the opposite of her conclusions. One was seething in rage, while the other was just clueless. As much as the Dutchess wanted to respect her adversaries, the incompetence of the two, or rather, the sovereign's inability to inform them of such, made it hard to do so.
"Rudeus-sama." Rem spoke.
"If.. if what Crusch-sama says is true, then we have to return immediately!"
Between Rudeus' confused gaze, piecing together what little information he had, and the Dutches' meaningful gaze cracking down on her opponent's seeming weakness, Rem had gotten a hold of herself from the initial shock. Just mentioning the Witch Cult had sent her into a catatonic rage for a second. But somehow, here she was, breaking out of that shell, demanding to return to the Roswaal mansion this instant.
"Rem… I don't quite get what's going on, is this "Witch Cult" such a big deal?" Rudeus carefully asked.
"A big deal? A BIG DEAL? Is that supposed to be a joke? How could you not even know what they a-" Rem shouted, only to cut herself off mid-sentence.
As if surprised by her own words, her left hand flew in to block her screaming mouth as her eyes realized and relaxed. The man standing before her, Rudeus, couldn't have possibly known about the Witch Cult. How could he? He was not of this world after all. Perhaps she didn't truly understand what those words meant when they first met, or she didn't believe the fairy tale of a man from beyond the Great Waterfall.
But with this, the final covers were revealed, as she realized how much of an alien Rudeus was.
And at last, how that information was supposedly a camp secret.
Her hand stopped any more words coming from her mouth, desperately realizing the strict orders Roswaal had given her: "Do not reveal Rudeus' identity to anyone except…" As furious as she was, she could not go against her master's orders.
As clueless as Rudeus was, he could take the hint. With only faint memories of his readings about the Witch Cult, he didn't understand their deal. But with Rem's immediate reaction, it was clear that the general public didn't take them too well, whatever organization the Witch Cult was.
"I'm sorry… Rem, I wasn't thinking properly, was I." Rudeus apologized, unable to look back at the maid.
Rem only scowled at his apology. As much as she wanted to lash out, she understood it wasn't his fault.
"Rudeus. Simply put, the Witch Cult is a vile organization following the teachings of the Witch of Envy. For decades, they have pillaged villages, murdered countless civilians, and raided military outposts in the name of the Envious witch." Crusch spoke, confirming Rudeus' suspicions of the matter.
"And those people are attacking the estate?" Rudeus carefully asked.
"Yep! That's right. It wouldn't be untrue even to say their main objective is Emilia-sama this time." Felix cut in.
"Their objective is Emilia-sama! As in, they intend to kidnap her?" Rudeus asked, bolting up from his sofa in shock.
"No one can say for sure. The council has tried to track down these terrorists for years, but their actions are as elusive as the Witch herself. Their movements show no clear patterns, and by the time credible sources report, it's too late." Crusch scowled.
As the words of the wise Dutchess, the Witch Cult's activities were too widespread to track down. With only the wealthiest nobles having access to communication mirrors, most information traveled by letter or word of mouth. When any reports reached the Capital, the rumor had changed so much from its original message or the letter had been damaged during travel. Even if, by some miracle, a legible piece of information landed at the hands of the Royal Knights, it was already too late.
And at that, Rudeus could only gulp audibly.
From his travels from the Demon Continent to the cold tundras of the Northern Region, Rudeus had met his fair share of human and nonhuman obstacles. It was only natural to survive those harsh environments. He'd encountered many adventurers, both newbies and veterans, who never returned from a quest. Death was just part of the adventuring profession, and he had worked hard to avoid it as much as possible.
But this was different. He was no longer an adventurer. He wouldn't be facing a horde of monsters or a pack of Wolgrams. This time, he'd have to go face-to-face with a crazed extremist looking to kill his liege, and the only way to defend her would be to kill them first.
An old memory surfaced as he thought that possibility over in his head.
He fell back on the couch with a weak thud, his eyes downtrodden as he remembered his first day working as Eris' tutor. To show her the usefulness of arithmetic, language, and magic, he staged a fake kidnapping, which turned into an actual abduction, where he had to defend the young lady with his magic.
When he came face to face with the North Saint Swordsman, Rudeus didn't hesitate. He fought back, using every idea to rescue Eris from the swordsmen. But even when a young, innocent girl was on the verge of kidnapping, even when facing thugs four times his size, even faced against the cold, unrelenting blade to the face, he hesitated. He intended his magic attacks to disable and maim, but not kill. He used Quagmire to root their footwork, a Stone Canon that exploded to a makeshift smoke screen, and a Stone Lance for a disabling blow. His final Fireballs were the only remotely lethal attack, but that wouldn't have killed a skilled swordsman enforcing his body with Touki.
Even in the face of death, even against his opponents, even against people who wouldn't hesitate to kill him, even when his murder would have been perfectly justified as self-defense, Rudeus was too afraid to take that step. He wasn't strong enough to execute something that he could never take back.
And now, his duties as Emilia's knight demanded that out of him.
And that was something he fully understood then and now.
"So.. we have to-"
"Yes, we must leave now! We have no time to waste against the wretches, Cultists!" Rem spat out, just barely holding her anger in.
'But I… I'd be barrelling into a small army of people…'
"Would we even be able to do anything anyway…" He depressingly mumbled, just barely audible to the others.
"Do anything? How, how could you say that Rudeus-sama! You are Emilia-sama's knight! Then do your damn job!"
Rem stepped towards Rudeus with another howl, eyes gleaming with hate as her soul seemed to burn with each mention of the Witch Cult.
"That… might not be completely false, nya know. In your condition, you'd be throwing your life away for nothing. I'd be surprised if you could cast more than a handful of spells," Felix interrupted.
"But that's… hng." Rem scowled.
"I did almost… kill him the other day… The point is, you're not in any position to fight, Rudeus, " Felix continued, an awkward smile cutting in on his face.
"Not to mention, this is the Margrave we are talking about. I'm sure Lord Roswaal has his own countermeasures in place," Crusch cut in.
"Ah! Yep, Crusch-sama is right about that. And to add, Emilia-sama has a contract with the Great Spirit of Fire, right? Oddly, Mr. Spirit had trouble dealing with the bowel hunter, but a Spirit of that caliber shouldn't have any problems dealing with some Cultists! Their full power should be enough to destroy the world, after all. Only Reinhard could stop such a Beast of the-" Felix added, but cutting off at the end before he could finish.
'Destroy the whole world, like Orsted? Is he really that strong? It never felt that way…'
"Felix!" Crusch shouted.
With a strong rebuff, the Dutchess reprimanded her servant from speaking further. As much as his words were from a sense of fear and respect, you'd be crazy to be rude to a great spirit.
"Though, what he says is true. With Lord Roswaal and the Great Spirit, your efforts may be futile, if not detrimental in your state." Crusch coldly stated.
'Yeah, best stay put, right? I'm in no condition to fight an army…'
"Rudeus-sama!"
But cutting his thoughts short was the sudden outburst of the maid in blue beside him. Her eyes glistened in desperation, her hands gripping the ends of her skirt, whitening her knuckles. The water in her eyes almost escaped the dam, barely holding it in.
"Rudeus-sama, will you not be returning." She asked, this time much quieter.
"I… I don't think I should. I'd just bring them down in my condition. Roswaal and Puck are there, so everything will be fine, right?" He replied.
"But-" Rem said as she gritted her teeth at his response.
But as soon as her words the girl was on, the girl fell to the ground. Kneeling on all fours, she refused to look up, dropping her head on the floor.
"Please, Rudeus-sama. I beg you. Please return and help my sister!" She groveled.
Rudeus immediately jumped up from the couch and kneeled in front of her. Crusch and Felix merely looked away, not wanting to hear anymore of the girl's desperate calls.
"Rem, what are you doing? Stop it and get up. Ram will be fine either way, so please get up."
"Rudeus-sama, Rem is useless alone, so going alone would only be suicidal. But Rem has to work for dear sister, so please save my sister," Rem continued, begging the boy to leave.
"But, you know I'd be just useless too. Even if I went, I doubt I could make a difference-"
"Then what if something happens to dear sister? If my one reason to live dies, will you take responsibility?" Rem replied, looking straight at the mage.
Contrasting her early sudden composure, clear streaks of tears were freely flowing from her cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot red, and her lips shuttered, unable to keep calm. But more than the sudden change in demeanor and her uncharacteristic groveling Rudeus had never expected, it was her last words that he couldn't take his mind off.
'Will you take responsibility?'
It was a ridiculous question. It wasn't his fault the Witch Cultists had started their attack, and it would never be his fault if Ram died in the coming onslaught. It was an unfair proposition to the newly hired knight. But yet the sheer desperate voice that spoke those words could not escape.
'Ram… dead?'
Could he even imagine the thought of his new colleagues dying? Moreso, even if their deaths would result from some vicious terrorist organization so hated by the world? Even if he wasn't at fault, could he imagine how devastated Rem would be? Would he regret this later if he never acted at all?
'No… that possibility didn't even come to mind.'
And more importantly, could he have stayed put had his sisters Norn and Aisha been there instead?
"Alright." Rudeus spat.
"Huh? Rudeus-sama?" Rem weakly asked.
He took a deep breath, pushing aside the swelling anxiety from his heart. Those fears of facing and killing someone else had not gone anywhere. But after the thoughts of his sisters surfaced in his mind, the thought of regretting not acting sooner lingered, and he found the strength to conclude.
'Living life seriously means not having regret, right?'
"I'll return, Rem. Let's go back and help as much as we can.
"Two and a half days? But didn't it only take us a day to reach the capital?" Rudeus asked.
"Yes, distance-wise, but I must advise you against taking that route. The fog from the White Whale is blocking the main path." Wilhelm advised.
"Two days… Rem, do you think we'd even make it in time?" Rudeus asked.
Rem scowled at the boy's question. She wouldn't have sensed her sister's despair by their shared synesthesia. If the Cultists had already attacked the mansion, it wouldn't matter if they managed to make it. They'd just be running into their graves.
"We… still have to try…" She spoke.
"I guess you're right," Rudeus replied as he stockpiled the supplies Wilhelm had prepared for their departure.
After he decided to return to the mansion, the Dutchess offered a dragon carriage and supplies for the return trip. "It's the least we could do," she said, offering Felix's healing services to continue again.
'Actually, it looked like Felix seemed relieved to hear this. Is he still not too comfortable working on the body?'
"Good luck young man. Do not let your resolve falter," Wilhelm said as he guided the carriage outside the Karsten manor.
"Thank you, Wilhelm. Let's continue our spars if I ever get back," Rudeus replied.
"Yes, I thank you in place of my master, Roswaal L. Mathers," Rem joined too, bowing courteously, even with her distressed face.
With a whip from her arm, the Land Dragon hustled away from the manor, leaving the stoic butler alone. He only left his spot once the pair left beyond sight, hoping his judgment had been wrong.
"Did you not want to join them?" A woman's voice asked from behind him.
"Crusch-sama, my apologies. Allow me to presume my usual duties." Wilhelm bowed in response.
"There is no need to apologize Wilhelm. I worry about those two, too… but do you truly think it right to let them be? I have not seen you so close to another as you were with the boy." Crusch asked back.
"You misjudge me, Crusch-sama. My loyalty stands with you and our shared goal, but you are right about one thing…" Wilhelm said, quieting down to brush his beard.
"Hmm? And what would that be?" Crusch asked.
"It is as you say. I just hope I am wrong about his eyes for once."
"Are we stopping?" Rudeus asked.
"Yes. Our land dragon does need to rest." Rem replied.
Almost ten hours had passed since the two left the capital. Deciding to return as quickly as possible, the two had foregone any rest and pushed their land dragon to its limits. But their steed was reaching its limits. Even with the Divine blessing of Wind Evasion aiding its run, it was a miracle it lasted so long without complaints.
However, even if that knowledge was so familiar to the residents of Lugunica, even if Rem had trained herself with land dragon care, she couldn't hide her disappointment in stopping at a nearby rest stop. Had it been up to her, she'd drain the very life of that creature to reach the mansion just a second sooner.
"Then we might as well get some rooms here too. Or maybe we could exchange land dragons and keep going?" Rudeus suggested, pointing to the nearby stables.
"Most of the stables are closed at this hour. We'd have to wait until early morning to find another land dragon," Rem calmly said, biting her lip in annoyance.
The small stop they arrived at was a small trading community called Fleur, designed as a rest stop for travelers from and to the capital. Only a few took foot in long-term households. Most others were traders and mercenaries passing by. As a result, most establishments catered to these travelers, and the town developed more lodging, stables, and entertainment businesses. You'd find a nice bed and warm meal, stables to rest your land dragon, and even some fun at the bars or more sensual experiences.
But exchanging or purchasing land dragons was another story. With the unknown dangers at night, travel naturally stopped after the sun went down. Naturally, the stables followed suit and stopped their lending services after sundown. For the two currently stranded in town, they'd have to wait until early next morning to exchange their dragon.
"Well, then, let me get some lodging. You're the expert with dragons anyways."
He got off from the back of the carriage, leaving Rem to book a spot to rest their fatigued steed. When he turned around to enter the inn around the corner, he met eyes with the land dragon panting heavily. Its loud and unsteady breaths, wide open mouth, and drool leaking out made it clear that this dragon could not ride.
'Just how much did we push this little guy? I really should have asked Ruijerd to teach me horseback riding.'
With a quiet thank you to their loyal land dragon, he walked away into the night and entered the closest inn he could find.
'It's still weird not having an adventurer's guild. I have no idea what kind of quality this place will be.'
"Hi, how can I help you?" The innkeeper greeted Rudeus.
"I'd like two rooms for the night and maybe some dinner too, please," Rudeus replied, handing him a few coins from his pockets.
"You can take the two rooms at the end of the hall on the second floor. Head out back for food. My auntie runs a diner. Great place for grub and mead."
"I'll take your recommendation then. Thank you." He tanked the innkeeper, hauling a pair's luggage to the second floor.
The rooms were small, with only a bed and table. While it did include a small wash area, it didn't provide any plumbing. You were expected to haul your own from the well outside. It was the subtle host's way of encouraging short and quick visits rather than long ones. With its low room cost, it was the inn's way to increase their income for the typical busy trader only staying a night or two.
'Well, the room's pretty clean, but it's more of a C-class inn if I had to guess… Or would we get a better room if we stayed longer?'
Using his water to freshen up, Rudeus walked down and exited through the back, following the innkeeper's advice. He arrived at a small, cozy diner, operating until late.
Inside was a long bar table and a few separate tables, all occupied by travelers, traders, and mercenaries. Without waiting for a hostess to seat him–not that one would exist in the first place–he sat down by the bar. On his next were two beast kin, one dog-like, and one bear-like chatting about with a tray of dried meats. Across the room were a group of merchants playing cards with a pile of coins set aside. And in the corner was a gray-haired patron drowning himself in booze. His green Ushanka dangled helplessly on his head as his left arm held up his strengthless head while his right gripped a large beer.
"Why… why oil…" He seemed to mumble as he downed the contents of his mug.
Ignoring the tearful cries of his chance encounter, Rudeus ordered a quick soup meal, pointing to the mercenaries behind him, "I'll have what he's having," he muttered.
After a while, a simple bean soup–similar to his typical meals from the Northern continent-was served. However, the taste had been much better. With the warmer climate and access to traveling merchants, the inn had access to higher-quality crops and seasonings. While it may have been meatless, it was such a delicacy compared to his own soups in the past made by drowning monster meat with spices.
'Well, these are beans, so it should be enough for my daily protein, right? I don't want to lose gains over poor food.'
And he took the time to finish his food. The blue maid entered the bar, sitting next to him.
"I've stabled the land dragon for now, but they won't lend their dragon until sunrise tomorrow, Rudeus-sama." She spoke calmly.
"Then, we don't have a choice, right? We'll stay the night and leave early tomorrow. Let's just hope we make it in time. Or…"
'We could find some people to drive us there. This place is for merchants and mercenaries. Surely a bag full of gold is enough to entice them.'
"Hi, the name's Rudeus. Mind if I joined you, gentlemen?" He asked, immediately taking action.
"Eh? Whit dae ye want?" The bear-like beastman asked.
'Eh? Kansai-dialect? They must be from Kararagi.'
The two beastfolk wore white cloaks with yellow linings. Their hoods had yellow ears and two cotton balls dangling from the edges of their collars to tighten their fit. And finally, a small square emblem on their sleeves indicated they were part of an organization. Perhaps they were part of a mercenary or bodyguard company? Rudeus doubted a criminal organization would flash its sign so proudly and publicly.
"If it ain't biz with gold, ye can piss off, city boy." The dog-like beastman added.
"Of course. We're actually looking for transportation. Our ground dragon is too tired, so we're stuck here for now, but we really need to return as fast as possible." Rudeus replied as kindly as possible, careful to not offend or anger the two mercenaries.
"You'll be rewarded handsomely." He added, emphasizing the large coin bag he was given from Roswaal as "pocket change".
With his time spent adventuring the Northern territories, Rudeus understood how simple some muscle-headed adventurers worked. Booze was the answer to friendship, and coin was the answer to compensation. Clear your offer and demands, and you'd rarely get into a scuff. That was something he tried so hard to avoid.
And that seemed to get their attention. When Rudeus swung his coin purse, the two mercenaries' eyes shone brightly as their ears perked up at the shinglings with each swing. The two looked relaxed and focused on the job, releasing their initial skepticism. The two were still chewing on their jerky with half-opened mouths, but that seemed normal for beast folk standards.
'Yep, money is the answer. If it doesn't solve your problems, you just didn't have enough of it.'
"Transport, eh? Must be in a hurry tae leave noo. Just you wi' some cargo, or are we convoyin' stuff, 'cause that'll cost extra." The dog-like beastman asked.
"Oh, not at all. Just some personal items and two people, including myself." Rudeus replied.
"Heh? Weel, ain't that simple enough. Then where tae? Dinnae tell me ye want us tae smuggle ye across the border. Kararagi's fine, but Gusteko and Vollachia are off, ya hear?" The bear-like beastman said.
The negotiations flowed perfectly. The two mercenaries seemed eager, and the job wasn't too dangerous. If anything, having two other fighters with them might help them arrive safely in case the Cultists lay traps ahead. Neither party had yet brought up payment, but it wouldn't cost too much. And even if it did, Roswaal was rich. He'd chip in if he had to, or so Rudeus assumed.
"Oh, not at all. Our destination is just a day away, the Mather's estate. We'd be happy to be dropped off at the Arlem village."
But at the mention of the Mather's estates, the two smiling beastmen dropped their smiling faces.
"Ye mean Roswaal's? The court magician's land?"
"Uh.. yes. Would that be a problem?" Rudeus asked, unsure why the eager beast folk seemed apprehensive.
"Hng... Isnae that the place? I dinnae wanna get tangled up in that mess." The bear-like beastman scowled.
"Ye're richt. Our lady told us no' tae go there... It winna be worth it." His partner responded to him before looking back at Rudeus.
The two returned to their initial skeptical looks. Gone were the relaxed, happy faces excited to make some easy coin off an idiot. Replaced with the sharp eyes of a mercenary hell-bent on their mind, the dog-beast person growled under his breath.
"Aye, we ain't takin' the job. The deal's aff. Guid luck elsewhere." He aggressively spat back.
"Huh?" Rudues mumbled.
"Aye. Piss off, man. We'd be better leavin' noo." His companion agreed, leaving the diner entirely.
Leaving Rudeus confused by the sudden change in demeanor. Arlem village was only half a day's travel on a carriage. It was a ludicrous offer to take passage for such a short time for much money. You'd be half insane to not take the deal, or so Rudeus assumed.
'Or are we too late after all?'
"Are you done messing around? You should sleep early if we wish to leave the earliest tomorrow." Rem spoke from behind, clearly unimpressed with the performance.
"Well, it was worth the shot. We should head in early. When's the earliest ride we can take?"
"Sunrise, around 4 in the morning. Do not sleep in." Rem scolded and left the diner.
'No matter what, we'll be jumping in the fire tomorrow…' Rudeus thought as he walked out to get some early sleep.
"Hmm? Is that…. smoke?" Rudeus asked.
After the early morning of the following day, the two traded their land dragon when the stables opened business. Since then, they'd been riding for hours, never stopping for food or rest. The land dragon was getting tired now, but Rem had rented out a dragon specified for long-distance traveling. She'd be good for another few hours or so.
About an hour after entering the Mather's domain, the two could barely see the village outskirts and clouds of smoke smoldering above.
The Dutchess' predictions had been correct. The shadows of smoke from the village were too large and intense to be from any sort of campfire. The black fumes piled on each other as if the clouds folded on top like layers of snow.
"Rem, that's–!" Rudeus shouted.
Without a response, Rem shouted, whipping the reins. She ordered the dragon to run full speed. Her eyes didn't blink nor look away from the destination they were quickly approaching. The screams crescendoed with each gait. The smoke intensified, steadily blocking out the bright midday sun. And the fire, the bright orange fire in the middle, grew brighter and brighter.
"Ugh…" Rudeus gagged.
With the village entrance in sight, the stench of burning flesh invaded his nose. Of course, it was no different from the smell of burning rotten monsters, something Rudeus had grown accustomed to in his travels as an adventurer. The same scent he'd lived fine for so many years was now twisting his insides.
Because there was only one reason why he'd smell that foul stench of death.
As Rudeus held his stomach for dear life not to vomit, Rem seemed fine and calm from the back. Without as much of a muscle's twitch, as seen from the passenger, she seemed almost tranquil as she whipped the dragon to run faster and faster. But from the front, she was deadly pale. Her breathing remained controlled and steady, unfazed at the screams of the villagers and the putrid smell of burning flesh. But her knuckles tightened until blood oozed from her fingernails, digging into her palm. Yet she did not seem to heed as if the pain was fazed out. And her eyes were deadly dry as if the very life had been sucked out of them. She was not seeing the burning village of today, but the day her reason to live was taken from her oh so many years ago.
She did not look away from the flames burning the village, for she'd see them anyway had she looked away.
"Witch… cultists…" She barely managed to breathe.
As the carriage finally passed what was left of the charred front gate, they saw what had happened to the villagers.
"Uwahh agh Ag Ahagh!"
"YIAaaaAAhg!"
"Help! Agh, please, he- Kchaaackh."
The screams echoed throughout the village. It seemed not a single person had been left alone. Chasing the running villagers, burning and pillaging the buildings, were the figures of men with tiny daggers and hooded black robes. Their daggers had crimson blood trickling from the blade to their guards, soaking their hems in sanguine ichor. They looked like pairs of bright red lanterns dangling at the arms of the hooded cultists. Their faces were shaded in black, yet their eyes seemed to gleam a vermillion hue.
It was the scene of a nightmare, one too horrific to be true.
"Ughh.. Wah." Rudeus mumbled.
His usual eloquent tone or crude language had vanished. The incoherent babbling spilling from his mouth was all his mind could attach to. It seemed as if the horrid screams of their victims fell on deaf ears, and the sight of the vermillion grass soaked in blood was just a leak from who knows where.
As she stood still from the open canopy carriage, he locked eyes with one of the cultists who had just pulled out his dagger from a now fresh corpse. Even without the demon eye, Rudeus was more than fast to react. Yet, his legs moved not. He planted himself on the wooden carriage like a tree in the dirt. And in the blink of an eye, the cultist had dashed towards the carriage, dagger pointing right between his eyes.
"Huh?" He mumbled.
Perhaps barely realizing his predicament, he stumbled with a single leg, falling on his back as his knees buckled unintentionally. The dagger dashing towards him whisted above where his head used to be, and the cultists jumped inside and faced the staggered man in question.
What did he look like from above? With the black-robed cultists towering over him, he couldn't move a muscle. It was as if he forgot how to proceed. No, it was more he didn't want to move at all. When the cultists' remaining dagger gleamed under the sun, he barely caught a glimpse of his reflection on the polished grind of the blade.
He saw his eyes, how the pupils constricted to tiny dots, almost vanishing into the white cornea. How his skin grew pale as the blood drained from his head. He saw streaks of yellow fluid, the gastric juices that managed to push out despite his efforts to remain calm. And the two bars of dried tears coming down on each cheek.
That was all he realized, though. He didn't see the knife rise above the cultist's head, even if his eyes followed its movements to see his reflection. He hadn't realized that attached to the blade was the man's arm readying to strike down his throat at any moment.
How could he recognize when the quiet screams bounced off the walls?
He closed his eyes as if it were the only thing to do. Even with his grip tightened on his staff, there was nothing to do if you couldn't see.
As the next seconds passed, he felt the warm leak of life flowing down his neck, a loud crash as if a car had struck a wild animal on the highway.
…
'Wait, why would it sound like a crash if I was stabbed?'
With his thoughts finally continuing, he bravely fluttered open his eyes to see the mad cultist now nowhere in sight. In its place was a familiar-looking round object. Made of blackened metal with pink spiked, the ball was embedded in the wooden flooring of the carriage.
"Get a hold of yourself!" A girl's voice screamed.
'Wait… I know that voice… don't I?'
The chains tightened as her words echoed in his mind. Collecting the blood-splattered flail from the ground, Rem pulled out the knife, barely stabbing his right thigh, and began healing the wound.
"Oh, thanks. I didn't even realize." Rudeus mumbled.
"Don't."
"Huh?"
"You're here to protect Emilia-sama and Lord Roswaal-sama's domain. So fight. Fight until every last one of those damn cultists are dead on the ground." She growled, finishing the healing spell.
To that, Rudeus merely nodded. That was why they were here, after all.
After a second to collect himself and his staff, Rudeus stood up, checking the rest of his body for any injuries. Looking down at the floor, he realized what had happened to the cultist. The flooring was dripping blubber and muscle. Strands of the cultist's organs ripped open, intensifying the stench further. Their upper torso had flown off to the side of the road, its blood-soaked cloak covering whatever meat strewn from its body.
When Rem shot its flail, the rest was pulverized to the mess before him.
His stomach threatened to overflow, just as before. But somehow, gathering all his strength to move forward, he looked past it and glared at the burning village.
And so, he channeled magic to his demon eye, activating the Eye of Foresight.
His companion, Rem, had already left the carriage. With the sounds of chains and the occasional "Huma," the girl was in a swirl of frenzy, tearing down every cultist that stood in her way. She hadn't paid any attention to the villagers burning alive but to sprinting as quickly as possible to the mansion.
Following the suit, Rudeus began running as well. Trusting the ferocity of his colleague but more so unable to leave the villager behind, he ran to the center of the village.
Coalescing what little mana he had, he began condensing it to the tip of his staff, only using the bare minimum to cover the surrounding village and no more.
Cumulonimbus!
As he released his spell on the heavens, making sure to be as efficient as possible, the dark, heavy storm clouds gathered above the village ablaze. A heavy rain began pouring down on the town in seconds, slowly quelling the flames.
The surviving villagers, hiding in what little remained in their burning homes, noticed, and the cultists, too, noticed immediately.
In response, two cultists began dashing toward the mage, ignoring their previous prey and running the hills for their lives. Their eyes glinted the same glare as the one at the carriage.
But this time, Rudeus didn't falter.
'They run towards me, then split off in the middle to surround me.'
*Quagmire*
He stopped the two cultists in their tracks by creating a deep mosh all around him. As soon as they split up and tried to engage closer, both legs were stuck in the muck of earth, halting any further progression. Confused about why their legs couldn't escape the dampened ground, the two struggled to stay footed, even falling over trying to escape the gripping force of Rudeus' key spell.
'Then fire stone canons to ki- no, I should save mana. Yeah, I can't fire strong canons to kill them. I should save as much mana..'
Taking another half a second, he fired his non-lethal stone cannon, a rounded rubber bullet-type cannon that aimed to incapacitate but not kill most humans. He nailed each shot directly at their forehead with two precise shots, knocking them out cold.
'Is that it? Shouldn't there be more?'
But as those thoughts rose to the top of his mind, he glimpsed at the center mound from the corner of his eyes. There, the paths were covered in the corpses of the cultists. Their limbs were torn from their bodies, and some hearts were shredded. Some even looked like an explosive had discharged from inside, splattering unrecognizable flesh and meat all over the town center.
And in the very center of the chaos was the blue-haired maid with her flain in one hand and a brightly shining horn on her head. Streaks of blood stained her lips, and what seemed like innards covered her body. She didn't seem to mind, though, as she was smiling. She was laughing a blood-curdling scream at the day sky. Even with the heavy downpour extinguishing the flames and cleaning the bloodied paths, the maid's clothes remained soaked red, unable to wash out the disgusting stench.
'What the fuck…'
The girl's laughter halted as if alerted by an invisible scream from the mansion. Two deep breaths later, she began leaping over the trees, sprinting full speed towards the mansion.
"Rem! You're-"
'Not human…'
Rudeus could only watch as the girl vanished behind the trees.
"Thank you, Rudeus-dono. We surely would have died had it not been for your timely arrival."
An hour had passed since Rudeus arrived at the village. After Rem left for the mansion, Rudeus tried to follow suit before getting stopped by the injured villagers. As much as he wanted to catch up to the maid, he couldn't leave behind the villagers here.
"We can thank each other later. Are you sure we've got everyone?" Rudeus asked, ignoring the hurried thanks from the surviving villagers.
"Yes, I'm sure. I counted twice. We lost at least half of our villagers. Our village chief is gone, and the children took shelter at the mansion. But we managed to get everyone who survived here."
As the injured villagers came out individually, Rudeus immediately began healing them with his magic. But after the fourth healing spell, he realized he'd run out of mana before finishing to heal the rest of the villagers. To save up as much mana as possible, he took a page out of Nightingale. He prioritized the villagers with severe injuries, letting the minor ones be patched up with traditional medicine.
He also ordered the non-injured men to gather supplies and carriages to escape the village. As much as leaving their homes saddened the villagers, they understood they couldn't stay here long.
"Take this money with you. You're about a day away from Fleur. Use that as a rest stop and reach the Capital quickly. If nothing else, that much should keep you afloat for a few months at least." Rudeus said, emptying every penny he had with him.
"This… is all because of that girl, isn't it?" A villager from the carriage said.
"Yeah, that half… elf girl. She's the one who drew them here."
"No, that can't be true. She looks like the Witch, but she can't be one… right?" an unsure villager spoke up.
The village evacuation prep was completed. The carriages were filled with supplies, and the surviving members all already gossiping about the invasion, their lost ones, and their impending future, or lack thereof.
'That's just… is that what she has to deal with all this time?'
He wondered if this was what Julius meant those days ago. Could he let people walk over others for how they looked? If anyone understood how painful that was, it was Rudeus. For his time on earth was nothing but pleasant. He knew firsthand how atrocious it was to deal with insults and rumors, regardless of their factuality.
"Everyone. I know this is an unprecedented situation for you all. I know too well what losing families, friends, and home feels like. But we managed to survive, so we should keep it that way. I'll have to leave you for now. I still have my duties to land. Once you reach the Capital, alert the local guards and contact the Dutchess Crusch Karsten-sama. She may be hesitant, but she's not the kind to abandon civilians." Rudeus announced, quieting the villagers.
"The Cultists seem to have eyes on the mansion. If you escape the Roswaal domain, you should be safe from any subsequent attacks. Good luck, and don't look back." He finished.
And so, he ordered the rest of the villagers to flee, as he opted to stay here to help the rest of the mansion residents. He stood there, eyeing the villagers until they left his peripheral view. Only after he confirmed the villagers left the vicinity safe and sound did he turn around and run towards the Roswaal estate, hoping he hadn't taken too long.
The sounds of chains did not stop.
Running without rest, the maid in crimson bolted through the forest. With only one goal in mind, she did not care for her body's condition. Each creak in her joints reverberated pain in her legs. The blatantly open wounds on her arms had yellow fat dropping out. A crossed-shaped red dagger was stuck on her back, wedged between her rib bone and spine. And her stomach was gashed, opened only recently, stitched up by her healing abilities.
"I… have to…"
The demonic single horn atop her head shines brightly like a beacon. Absorbing the surrounding mana, it worked to repair- no, it merely worked to fuel her ascent up the hills. That accursed horn that ruined her sister and tribe was the one thing keeping her alive. She might have been thankful for it had the situation not been her fault.
The crimson trail she left behind meandered across the ground, vibrancy slowly waning with each step. The once vivid and glistening streak now dulled into a fading memory, as if nature sought to erase the macabre testament to what had transpired.
The wounds had not healed. They merely stopped bleeding.
"Horn… my fault…"
Was she even running at all? She may be forcing her limbs to continue, but the damage remained. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't run well with your tendons ripped and muscles shredded. The silver lining was her bones were largely intact. Had her femur shattered, she'd be on the ground, whimpering.
"That's why… sister…"
Her one reason to live was just around the corner. She couldn't be late. She had to do her duty. If this was all because of her, she only needed to solve it alone, or at least that was what she felt.
And with her last step, the gates to the mansion were in sight. She had finally reached the place she destined so desperately for the past few days. And with it, two witch cultists leaped over the fences to greet in kind. With blood trailing from their daggers, it was clear they had just finished their ritual.
"El-Huma!" The girl in red shouted.
Coalescing the force of nature, half a dozen icicles responded to her call. Barreling towards the two cultists in front of her. The one furthest away had sided-stepped the barrages, only knicking their thigh. The one in front, though, could not move fast enough. They were too close to do so as the crystals formed right before them.
Like a vicious hailstorm of frozen death, the icy javelins mercilessly impaled the cultist from crown to heel. A gruesome silence engulfed the scene as the frigid projectiles eviscerated their upper body, splintering flesh and viscera and scattering a grotesque tableau of entrails and crimson torrents across the desecrated forest floor.
And using that blood as a smoke screen, the cultists charged forward, undaunted by their comrade's spectacular demise. In an act of pure bravery or stupidity, he appeared before the girl, twin daggers aiming for her throat.
Time had seemingly stopped for the cultist as the two daggers inched closer and closer to her throat. Looking for blood and guts, the vermillion present wrapped in black and white clothes was waiting to be torn open. The cultist's watered at the thought. Scarlet viscera was just waiting. It was the sole reason they became infatuated with the witch. The chance to freely vivisect live flesh was too enticing.
So, what came next was just too confusing. The maroon treasure was not what he saw, but an empty void filled their vision. As the condensing force of gravity suddenly weighed heavier than ever, they felt the base of their neck touch the warm, wet ground. As the thoughts drained cold like the surface of the damp ground, the last thing he heard was the sound of chains echoing through the dense forest.
"Witch cultists!" The girl screamed.
Kicking the still head with her newly found vigor, she did not stop to clean the blood dripping down her body. At this point, it did not matter whose blood it was. Approaching the pristine gates of the mansion, the center of the courtyard lay encircled by a dozen more cultists. And at the heart of this eerie congregation was...
All that penetrated her ears was a man's unhinged, maniacal laughter as if he were making an unholy pact with the heavens. Rem swung her chain as if compelled to partake in this grotesque symphony, forcing her agony to fester in the abyss of her personal torment.
Through the quiet forest, with no one to listen, the sounds of chains echoed for the last time.
"Ha.. ha.."
Panting through the forest, Rudeus was speeding up the hill at full speed towards the mansion. He had already wasted less than an hour helping the villagers escape. No, it wasn't time wasted per se. He couldn't have left the villagers alone, even with his liege's safety unknown. That was the one promise he couldn't shake off.
'Promise? Wait, what promise?'
He questioned what made him stay and help the villagers for a split second. Why did he feel obligated to stay, even at the sight of disaster? For a moment, he was sure he had made a promise to someone, but to, he could not remember. Something was amiss, but he could not figure out why.
'I'm... just too tired. Yeah, that's why.'
He deflected, pushing those thoughts away. He was running headfirst into a potential army. He hadn't the time to waste pondering maybes at this moment. And still couldn't shake off the creeping denial boiling from his heart. Because physically, he wasn't exhausted in the slightest. His daily routine ensured he'd come on top of cardioactive challenges. He was merely tired from the strenuous mana he'd used to heal the villagers.
'When was the last I've ever felt this tired? Is that what most mages have to deal with daily?'
The hypothesis was promising at the moment, but in his travels with Stepped Leader, he had never seen a fellow mage have trouble with recollection from mana exhaustion. He knew more than anyone because he had never experienced it before. That mana exhaustion merely made one tired. After days of rest, they were back on their feet, ready to take on whatever adventure their party had prepared.
So why was he having trouble remembering something so important?
'At least there aren't any cultists along the way. That would have slowed me down a lo-'
"Huh?" He breathed before the scene in front of him
The grassy land, the green trees, and even the dirt patches of road were soaked in red. The gore trickled down from each tree branch, coalescing into a pool of life. Just for a moment, the unmoveable nature had been soaked in the dense affection of mankind.
"Did Rem..." He mumbled before puking his lunch out on the floor.
With a narrow escape, he managed to avert a fall by bracing himself with his staff. He pressed on through the puddle, transforming it into an improvised walking aid. Every step sent ripples through the crimson-tinted water as if unveiling the remnants of a nightmarish hellscape in the village. Strangely, it all felt eerily familiar.
With the sudden vertigo and deja vu shaking his balance, Rudeus steeled himself to walk. He didn't have the strength to continue the gruesome terror before him. He wanted every fiber of his being to turn back and join the villagers. But still. the words of the blue girl reminded him why he had to continue.
'Will you take responsibility?'
Those words did not leave his mind. Even if he was a coward. Even if he was weak and frail. Even if he was powerless to what lay ahead. How could he proudly say he lived seriously if he stopped here.
And so, he steeled his heart further and began to run. The drench of blood began to wane anyway. Only a few more minutes until he was back at the mansion, away from this macabre scene.
Soon, he reached the mansion's front gate, and the splatter of blood covered the gates as if someone had exploded outwards in front of it.
"Is that? No, it's just clay. It's not... It's just not that." He mumbled as he passed the remains of the previous girl's onslaught.
And as he did so, the sounds of a madman's cackle could be heard.
"Oh! How delightful! Another believer of love, familiar love, so diligently presents themselves! How we are blessed, YES! We are blessed today for our diligence." The madman shouted.
"Love, love, love Love Love, love LOvE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE! IT IS THE WITCHES' REWARD OF LOVE! Oh~ho HOW WE ARE BLESSED!"
"What the fuck." He merely muttered, unable to believe his eyes.
In the center of the courtyard, surrounded by blood and cloth, was a singular man with green hair. His black robes were untouched with a single blemish, signifying he had not needed to fight. Or so Rudeus presumed. His face was too far to get a good look, but at a glimpse, he thought as his eyes had popped out of their sockets, bulging out of their crevices.
And in the skies above, just three meters above ground were the hanging pair of red and blue-haired dolls dangling motionlessly. As if something had hoisted their arms in the air, they stood still, t-posed, as the wind brushed their soiled hair caked in blood.
"I was too late..." Rudeus merely whispered.
It wasn't a conscious muttering from the boy's mind but a subconscious reaction he had. He couldn't help but mutter out something at the sight.
The familiar red doll's body held limply. Her half-closed eyes drooped down, looking at the ground. Her right hand still clenched her magic wand, but her left arm had been torn off at the elbow. The strands of tendons and vessels dangled like ribbons swaying in the chilling breeze. It was a testament to her last stand, fighting tooth and nail until her last.
The blue one's body was no better. Blood was gushing out of her open slits, showing her most recent demise. Her flail echoed no more as it lay motionlessly on the ground beneath her. Her limbs were intact, but a clean hole punched through her chest like a blunt pole had torn straight through her heart. The glowing red horn on the top of her head was broken off, leaving only a dull stump in place.
"Ho~? And who might you be?" The madman asked, locking eyes with Rudeus.
It was as if his blood had drained from his head. With the sudden vertigo at the sight of the man's eyes, he tried to look away but couldn't. He knew his best chance at survival was to react with his demon eye before whatever attack the madman could do. Yet, the dizziness from just looking at the monster did not sway. His legs trembled at the sight, and his mind drew blank, not truly understanding that the two familiar dolls were no longer, not to mention he had no idea where Emilia was.
"Hmm, I don't remember you from the gospel, the truth of love." The madman mumbled.
"Oh! Then you must be the same as the girl! A believer in love! Familial Love! Romantic Love! Platonic Love! Unconditional Love! Self Love! Agape Love! Erotic Love! Obsessive Love! Compassionate Love! Puppy Love! Spiritual Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love! Love!" The man screamed, waving the heavens in gratitude.
With each word he spoke, his voice grew louder and louder. As if to convince himself of his love, he shouted repeatedly.
Rudeus clenched his staff harder and harder. His knuckles turned white as his blood was forced back to his head. It was clear that the man before him was not someone he could reason with, that was for sure. He was insane. That person was too far gone to have any meaningful conversation. He was a disgusting inconsistency the world had to get rid of. So, it would be best to not heed his words at all.
"And yet, you were late. Your slothfulness has killed her! Your love for the girl was met with failure because of your slothfulness!" He shouted.
"Oh, how slothfull... hmm?" He continued normally, without the crazed force his usual tone had.
What had intrigued him enough to stop his manic monologue was the glowing blue orb floating in front of the boy. No, it wasn't floating. It was attached to a staff not visible behind the bright blue orb. As if draining the surroundings of its very mana, the boy condensed his own to the very tip of his staff, channeling every focus he could muster.
Stone Cannon
With the whistling twirl in the air, a high-speed Stone Cannon specifically designed to kill giant beasts sped through the air like a vacuum. Its target: smack in the middle of that disgusting man's forehead. In reaction, he simply looked wide as the bullet reached its max velocity, whistling through the air towards him. He did not look away nor blink. He stared back, eyes wide as if welcoming the barrelling earthen bullet designed to end him.
A deafening crash of destruction reverberated on the motionless cultists, exactly as he had planned. As soon as it connected, the bullet disintegrated into a swirling cloud of dust. It wasn't the same caliber as the one he had used against Orsted; he lacked the resources to reinforce it to such an extent. However, given the immense mass he had packed into the oversized Stone Cannon, it was unquestionably sufficient to bring down a ferocious B-ranked creature.
But yet.
"How diligent! To attack before your opponent had stopped speaking!"
As the dust settled, Rudeus could discern the stark ineffectiveness of his Stone Cannon. Not a single blemish or smudge marred the man's attire. It was like an imperceptible barrier separated them, rendering all attempts to harm the man futile. It was a disconcerting sight, for Rudeus had never encountered a target so impervious to his Stone Cannons. Others might have dodged, deflected, or absorbed the impact, but never before had he witnessed complete immunity.
Gritting his teeth at the absurdity, he realized he had lost his sole advantage. The initial strike had proven useless, and now the enemy had his guard up. Lacking knowledge of the man's capabilities, Rudeus had no choice but to adopt a defensive stance while he searched for a way to circumvent the mysterious defense.
The notion of bombarding the man with an unrelenting barrage of Stone Cannons crossed his mind, but Rudeus was not running low on mana. For the first time, he openly cursed at the vexation every other mage feared.
"Oh! But I must be diligent! The ritual must commence! We must summon the Witch through that fiend, or else we be punished for our slothfulness!" The madman shouted.
Ignoring those words, Rudeus ran towards the mound of raised earth to his left. The unnatural mini hill was probably a result of magic raising the flowerbed. Whatever its intentions were, it was the perfect position to take cover, cover for whatever that man could fire at Rudeus.
"Authority of Sloth, Unseen Hand." The madman calmly muttered before Rudeus could reach his cover.
Those terrifying words, devoid of meaning, reached the boy's ears. It was clear he had done something, but what it was was unknown. To the naked eye, nothing had happened. The madman did not fire a projectile and certainly didn't charge at him. Looking towards him, he clearly didn't move an inch, opting to cement himself to the ground like a statue.
'Huh?'
Blast
In a desperate response, Rudeus summoned a blast of wind behind him, knocking him forward to the ground, slamming head first to the damp soil. It was a reflexive measure to dodge something. Something so odd but dangerous that he didn't have time to accommodate a graceful landing. Looking behind his path, it was clear that nothing visible had passed the trail he took.
But the Demon Eye of Foresight had shown otherwise. The green eye consuming his mana had demonstrated in great detail that something would have torn through his body had he kept going forward.
"You... you saw the Unseen Hand just now, didn't you?" The madman calmly asked.
Raising his chest from his hunched posture, the madman slowly looked up.
"This is wrong, Wrong, WRONG." He shouted, raising both hands to the skies.
"It's a mistake! A mistake!" He wailed.
He viciously raked both of his hands through his disheveled hair. His fingers clawed at his scalp, tearing through matted locks in a frenzied frenzy. Nails scraped against the skin, leaving angry red streaks in their wake, and his face contorted with a twisted mixture of anguish and madness as he attacked his head with unrelenting aggression.
"My AuthoriTEE!" He screamed, chomping on his index finger.
"The Authority of SLOOTH!" He continued, biting down his middle finger.
"My Unseen Hand, which love granted to MEE!" He wailed, mauling his ring finger.
"No other can be allowed to see IT!" He finished, gouging his pinky.
His right hand now resembled a dog's chew toy. With only the right thumb untouched, his essence of red blood trickled from each finger, drenching his pristine sleeves the same color.
"Die!" He screamed shrilly, not hiding his pure intentions to kill and destroy.
At his scream, the two corpses fell to the earth like fallen angels, splattering what little blood was left from their orifices. This time, his Demon Eye screamed for him to move, or else this invisible force would tear him piece by piece.
He struggled to get to his feet, though. He had to use another blast just to dodge another volley of whatever magic the madman was using. Perhaps his words were correct, as it was a literal invisible hand. But whatever it was, Rudeus was not keen on finding out.
Clawing back to his feet, Rudeus sprinted straight through the rubble to reach the raised hill. He finally got his destination using another two blasts, nearly depleting his mana reserve.
Earth Fortress
Raising his own earth, he made a fortress around the mound, reinforcing it from further attacks. He thought, whatever those projectiles were, this double-walled protection would defend against it.
'Now, what the hell now though? I have about... two spells left? I have to make those count if I want to live. I could squeeze one more if I deactivate my demon eye.
He cut his mana towards his eye in a split-second judgment and focused solely on his offensive magic reserves. He mused that he'd be safe from any immediate attacks with the two barricades. Thus, he should retaliate and destroy the cultist as quickly as possible.
But that would be the greatest mistake he ever made.
"Kcagh!" He coughed.
Somehow, the invisible projectile had hit him from behind the barricade. It had knocked the wind out of the mage, making him wheeze on the ground, clawing for air. The blow had shattered his rib cage. He was lucky his lungs weren't ruptured.
As he tried desperately to move his chest, he realized he could no longer feel the cold ground. When he opened his eyes, bracing for whatever gruesome injury he might see, he was surprised to see his outer body seemed considerably fine.
What surprised him was that his feet were no longer touching the ground! He was flying, not floating in the air, as some invisible force had lifted him up four meters above the ground.
'No, something is grabbing me around the chest and lifting me up. That's why I can't breathe.'
As if to confirm his suspicions, Rudeus tapped his chest or tried to. Instead of touching his usual grey magician's robe, something cold and round wrapped his body. His eyes could not see it, but his hands could feel the presence of an arm gripping his torso.
"Why do you look confused as to what's happening? Can you not see the Unseen Hand after all?" The madman asked, dragging Rudeus through the air towards him.
Desperately, Rudeus fought to break free. He punched, clawed, and scratched at the unseen restraints, resorting to even a few spells in a frantic bid for freedom. However, with no breath and no mana left, his fervent struggles amounted to naught, leaving him suspended helplessly in mid-air.
"Yes, it's faint, but you are blessed with the Witch's love! How wonderful it is to receive her love! Now tell me, are you perhaps Pride?" The madman asked, suspending Rudeus right in front of his contorted face.
"Sloth, sloth! Yes, it is slothful of me to not welcome you here! Forgive me! You have given me so much love, but I have been slothful!" He raged, bashing his head on the ground repeatedly.
In his self-punishment, he dropped the boy head-first to the ground. Crashing down on the ground, he couldn't make heads or toes of the situation. He could still barely breathe, his entire body ached in pain, and his head was smashed into the ground, tearing open a gnashing on his head with blood pouring out like a fountain.
He groaned like a zombie. The cold ground seemed unusually frigid this time. The air dropped in temperature, or so he thought. He couldn't tell if his failing brain was playing tricks or not.
'No... is it... snowing?'
But visually, the snowflakes of winter trickled down. Even with the shrieks of the madman before him, the scene was so quiet that he could barely hear each flake hit the ground.
'Oh, my ears are failing, too.'
Whatever the cause was, he merely accepted that too. It was becoming unbearably cold now. But he didn't have the strength to close his eyes, so he kept watching. And in front of him, no, from within the mansion, the silhouette of a beast destroyed the mansion. From the clouds blocking the sun and the frigid cold freezing his eyes, it was impossible to tell what it was.
The two yellow glass eyes stared back at his feeble vision as if admonishing his existence.
"You're too late." A voice called, neither his nor madman's.
It sounded so familiar, but Rudeus simply couldn't remember who it belonged to.
"Sleep for eternity, like my daughter." An eerie presence persisted, vanishing into the deluge of blinding, swirling snow, its intensity steadily mounting.
Rudeus' vision froze from the cold. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak. He couldn't feel. As if the sudden freeze stopped him, every thought became mush, refusing to solidify in the cold. The ironic calmness did escape him, though. How could he when the world had turned so ridiculously cold?
This was the direct result of his slothful actions. He wanted to live life seriously but didn't, so it was natural to be punished as such. He was given a second chance twice yet still managed to fail both times. Such a disgusting existence shouldn't be allowed to exist. It was only natural.
With his vision fading to dark, his mind could only focus on the one remaining sense he had. The cackling of that madman's laughter continued to echo as his brain could no longer comprehend what laughter was.
And so, Rudeus died.
AN:
Greetings, everyone! How's everyone holding up?
I've been keeping busy myself, juggling the demands of my engineering work. Finding free time has become quite a challenge, which means my original plan of releasing one chapter per month may need some adjustment.
But fear not; I'm fully committed to this story, and I've already sketched out how I want it to conclude. Rest assured, I'm seeing this through!
This chapter marks the official beginning of Arc 3, or as I like to call it, where the real challenges kick in. I should warn you it's going to get explicit and intense, so viewer discretion is advised.
If you would like to support me, or read my stories from other communities, click the link in my bio! Any help is appreciated!
Well, that's a wrap for now, folks! I'll catch you on my socials for updates on the upcoming chapter or in approximately a month for the next installment. Take care!