Chapter 18: Guillaume Rouque
"Okay…" Korzanna muttered. "That should be everything." She looked up from the book she was reading- on the ground in front of her, she'd drawn an elaborate magic circle, lined with arcane symbols. Around the circle's edges, candles had been set in specific places, and in specific numbers. Placed within the circle itself were a number of reagents, all carefully selected and measured out And resting in the very middle of the circle was the living head she'd collected from the Inquisition. …Well, at the moment, it wasn't very alive. But with any luck, the Raise Dead spell Korzanna was about to cast would fix that.
For well over an hour, she'd alternated between making necessary preparations, and referring back to her spellbook to ensure she'd made no mistakes. Even when compared to other disciplines of magic, necromancy had always been a weak point for her- even basic spells could require hours of preparation, and all that effort could be undone by even the smallest error. Her elder sister, Verumina, had always been more skilled in that field… but Mina was gone. And Korzanna would have to rely on her own knowledge and abilities to succeed.
To be honest, she couldn't even be sure the spell would even work. For all she knew, she'd just wind up with a mindless zombie head. But she had to risk it. Something was happening with Guillaume, and for Laxi's sake, she had to know what.
Korzanna lit the candles lining the circle, in the order prescribed in the spellbook. Once they were lit, she stood at the circle's edge, and began to intone the incantation from the spellbook that was supposed to be used at this stage: "Zobek, Lord of Worms, Keeper of the Gates of Death, hear me. Breathe the breath of life into these decayed lungs, quicken the pulse of this rotted heart, and let this body stand among the living once more." Then, with a small knife, Korzanna cut her thumb, and let her blood drip into the circle.
As soon as her blood touched the ground, the circle began to glow- the light first appeared where the blood had fallen, and quickly spread. The reagents in the circle began to disintegrate as the spell consumed them to fuel itself. Then, the light retracted, disappearing under where the head was laying, and began to flow into the head. For a moment, its veins shone brightly, before fading…
And then, the head groaned, opening its eye. "Whu… what… what happened? Why can't I feel my… anything?"
That was a good sign, but it was too soon to jump to conclusions. She didn't enter the circle just yet, but asked aloud, "Can you hear me, Zoyin-4?"
The head jolted. "Who's there!?" she shouted. "What's going on? Wait…" Her face twisted in confusion. "I… I thought I was… disposed of. Am I dead? …If this is what it's like to be dead then being dead sucks!"
It seemed Zoyin-4 recalled everything that happened up to the moment of its death. Raise Dead had been a success. And now that the hard part was out of the way… "You're alive, in a certain sense of the word," Korzanna said, before entering the circle and picking up the head.
Zoyin glared up at the demon. "Who are you? Another field operative Master didn't introduce me to before today?"
"No I'm not. I don't work for Guillaume. And as of the moment you woke up, neither do you."
The head's brow furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Korzanna grinned. "Thanks to the spell I used to resurrect you, you are now bound to me as my newest servant." She lifted the head to eye level. "And my first order is for you to tell me everything about what Guillaume is planning."
Abel looked up silently at the tower looming in the darkness ahead of them. Inside that structure, at that very moment, was Guillaume. The man who created Zoyin, and the other flesh golems. The man who, through his creations, had killed Erica, and had almost killed him, Violet, and everyone standing with him at that very moment. He may not have wielded the blade himself, but he was every bit as responsible as the flesh golems themselves. He felt himself begin to shake, wanting nothing more than to smash through the tower's walls and drive his sword deep into his throat.
But then, something gripped Abel's hand. He jolted, about to yank his hand away… until he realized it was Lailah, holding his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. She was pale, her hand was cold, and she didn't say anything, but her touch was enough to quell the rage building in his heart. …Until Abel realized what the priestess had just done. Then his heart began racing again, though for an entirely different reason, and he quickly pulled his hand away.
But any further ruminations were interrupted when Claire stepped forward, arms folded over her stomach. "Well, finding the golem's base is all well and good, but where do we go from here? It's not like we can just go in through the front gate."
Holly rose to the tips of her toes, as if trying to get a better view. "I don't see any guards…" A quick glance proved the mercenary right- there were no sentries patrolling the tower base, no guards at the top, no movement in any of the windows he could see. If not for the lights, he could easily believe the structure was empty.
"That is rather unusual," Violet replied. "Guillaume is far too intelligent to leave himself exposed like this…"
"This has to be a trap," Seth replied. "He might've guessed we were coming and pulled his guards inside to lure us into an ambush."
"Or Gill could have some ridiculously overpowered bodyguard protecting him," Raine added. "Something so strong, he wouldn't need guards."
Minze gave the witch a stern look. "You shouldn't refer to Guillaume so casually. He is not your friend."
Claire looked at the thief and the witch with disdain. "You aren't still entertaining the idea that Guillaume Rouque is the one behind this, are you?" she asked in a low voice.
"RIght now, it doesn't matter who's in that tower," Abel then said, despite knowing full well just who was waiting. "We should look around and see if there's a way inside." He then walked toward the tower, not even bothering to hide- if anyone was watching, they would have seen his group well before now. With seemingly no other recourse, the others followed his lead as Abel scouted the tower's exterior.
Even from a distance, it was obvious the tower was massive: it easily rivalled the Pioneer's Cathedral in Lohan in height- itself the tallest building Abel had seen in his life at that point- and wide enough around to comfortably nestle the cathedral inside its walls. But in spite of its size, there was only one way in or out from the ground: a large gate at its base. But it seemed that if the enemy was lying in ambush, as Seth suspected, they weren't waiting behind the gate. It was barred shut, and made from a very solid metal- breaking it down or cutting through was out of the question. And after circling the tower, there were no other obvious points of entry readily within reach. Even if it had been built by monsters, the tower was still a well-fortified position- there was no way its makers would leave things such as windows within easy reach of an enemy force.
"Well, I can't say I'm surprised…" Raine said.
After a moment of thought, Lailah made a suggestion: "Most fortified positions have a hidden escape tunnel. Abel could use his amulet to find its entrance."
"That's unlikely to work," Roland replied. "Even the most intelligent monsters will fight to the death before retreating while in an Overlord's presence. They would never build such a tunnel."
Abel looked at the tower again, focusing more closely on the window- it was a little narrow, but there was no glass, nor any bars or shutters blocking it. "…Maybe I can fly up and climb through that window. Then work my way down and open the gate for you."
The others looked at him incredulously. "By yourself?" Holly asked.
Abel looked around to the others. "It's not like we have a lot of other options…" He looked back to the tower. "...unless you wanna climb. Trying to carry all of you would take too long."
Seth then stepped forward, approaching the tower. She laid a hand on its outer wall, as if feeling for something. After a moment, she said, "…I'll go with him. This wouldn't even be the longest climb I've made."
"Seth-" Abel began. But before he could say anything else, she wedged her fingers in a gap in the tower's outer plating, and began to climb. The thief's pace was slow but steady, as she managed to find her grip and footholds on ledges that protruded barely a finger's width from the tower. In only a few minutes, she was level with the window, shimmying along a ledge, before finally putting her foot on the sill and stepping inside.
Abel had watched, stomach clenched until it felt like it was no bigger than a fist, ready to take to the air and catch the thief if she fell. But… she made it. She hadn't needed his help. …But that didn't mean he couldn't worry.
Raine let out a long breath. "…yeah. I think I'll wait here. Just watching Madame make that climb stressed me out."
Abel didn't blame the witch. But as he looked up at the window Seth had slipped through, he said, "I could carry at least one of you up with me. …well, maybe not you, Prince Roland."
"It would be better for you to go alone," the prince answered. "If there is indeed a party waiting to welcome us, a smaller group will draw less attention."
"And I certainly wouldn't want to be in the air with you if your powers suddenly gave out," Claire added. Fiann gave the president the most venomous glare imaginable. Abel spoke up, hoping to quell her anger. "Fiann. Keep an eye out. Make sure everyone stays safe until Seth and I come back."
The bard was still glaring at Claire, but she nodded. He looked back toward Lailah, but before he could say anything, the priestess said, "I'll be fine with the others. Just… be careful in there, okay?" Abel gave her a small nod, before his wings ignited, and he flew to the window Seth had climbed through.
Beyond the window was a narrow passageway built from brick and metal, curving with the shape of the tower. By the window hung a lantern, the light he'd seen from the ground, but there wasn't a flame burning within- instead, it held some strange crystal that glowed with a constant, steady light. Seth was there of course, standing tense with her bow in hand, gaze flicking between both ends of the passage as she watched for any approaching threats. Stepping down onto the tower floor, Abel asked. "What now?"
"We climb down. Obviously," she replied. "Just follow my lead, and do exactly what I say."
Subterfuge was very much outside Abel's realm of expertise. Seth, on the other hand, was a master thief that remained at large for months on end. He was certain he could trust her judgement. So, he followed her lead, crouching down and trying to remain as light on his feet as he could as he followed after her. As much as he would have liked another person to back them up, Abel's awkward attempts at mimicking the thief's stealthy movements, while not loud, made more noise than he was comfortable with.
Well… that wasn't entirely true- Niel was with Abel, of course. Once he'd resumed the search for Guillaume, she'd sunk into his body, and had remained silent since. Was she still upset with him? At times, back in Seles, Master Rachel would act as if Abel didn't exist as a punishment for some fault of his, real or imagined- was this something similar? He couldn't be sure. But now wasn't the time to press the issue.
Abel followed Seth as she followed the curve of the passageway. Minutes passed, but other than passing crystal-filled lanterns, and an occasional branching passage, they found nothing. He couldn't see the thief's face, but Abel could see the tension building in her movements with time. Something was wrong. But it took a moment for Abel to realize what.
The level of the tower they were on had no stairs, or ladders, or anything else connecting it to the others.
That realization seemed to catch up to Seth as well, as she came to a stop in front of one of the branching passageways. She peered down it: other than being lined with dark wooden doors spaced at irregular intervals, it was mostly featureless. "Alright Abel…" she said in a low voice. "We'll have to start checking rooms to find the stairs." She moved herself in front of one. "Now do exactly what I do." First, Seth put her ear against the door, listening for a few moments. Then, she opened the door very slightly and peered through the gap, leaning from side-to-side, presumably to see more of the room beyond. Finally, she opened the door slowly, taking a small step inside, and looked around. From Abel's vantage point, the room didn't seem to contain anything interesting- Seth must have come to the same conclusion, because she stepped back and shut the door quietly. "Give your eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark before going in."
Abel nodded, before stepping in front of a different door. He listened. There was nothing. He opened the door just a crack- beyond, he saw some kind of dark shapes. He squinted, but his gaze couldn't pierce the darkness. But at the very least, the shapes didn't seem to be moving, so Abel opened the door fully, the light from the hall spilled over the shapes.
Bones. The room was full of nothing but bones. Skulls, ribcages, spines, arms, legs, and other bones that Abel didn't know- and didn't want to know- the names of. Some bones were stripped clean, others were crumbling into pieces, but some, mainly those closest to the door, were caked in a dark substance that could only have been blood, and pieces of decayed flesh. But it was the sheer number that was most unnerving- the bones reached all the way to the back wall, some ten paces away, and at their highest point, were piled high enough to reach up past Abel's waist.
Abel quickly pulled the door shut. The sound of it rattling in its frame drew the thief's attention. "Abel!" she hissed.
Quietly, Abel replied simply, "…not this way."
The thief huffed, and pushed Abel aside, before opening the door. "You didn't even check all the way inside. How can you be-" She stopped as soon as she saw what was inside, and quickly pulled the door shut as well, before saying in a small voice. "…yeah. Not that way."
When they first met, Shirley Brell said Wyvern Company had been searching for people who had gone missing along the border between Ermis and Mavors. Considering Caral Marsh's location, and what he and Seth had just seen, Abel thought he might have some idea of their fate. But… there must have been dozens, maybe even hundreds of skeletons in that room. How long had this been going on for? Whatever the answer may have been, it was all the more reason to put an end to things as soon as possible.
The next door Seth checked had a narrow staircase leading further up the tower behind it. Unfortunately, none of the other doors hid a corresponding stairwell leading down. Abel couldn't begin to fathom why the tower had been built in such a way- Seth thought it was meant to mislead attackers, or provide the tower's occupants a more defensible position, but she admitted these were only guesses. So, with no other options, they ascended the stairs.
They emerged into another corridor, but unlike the others, this one was mostly empty. There were only two doors aside from the one they entered from: one at the end of the passageway across, and another set into the wall roughly between them. But worryingly, there was something different about this floor. The lower below them had been utterly silent. But here, Abel could hear… voices. They were too far to make out clearly, but they were very much real. And they were coming from the door in the middle of the passageway.
Seth took the lead, pressing a finger to her lips. Abel understood what that meant, before following the thief as she crept down the passage. Then, a scream rang out- it was so sudden that Abel nearly jumped into the ceiling, and even Seth visibly jolted. Quickly but quietly, she moved to the middle door, with Abel quietly and not-so-quickly following her. The door was open- it was only a small crack, but it was large enough for the two of them to peer through and into the room beyond.
Immediately, Abel saw a figure. It was a man with white hair, clad in a long white coat. But he wasn't alone. The golems from earlier were with him, lying on two tables, with large metal bands holding them down. The man was leaning over one of the golems on the table, with his hand on her neck- as he pulled his hand away, Abel saw that he was wearing a strange glove with needles and thin tubes attached to its fingertips.
The golem bucked against the restraints. "Whhuh? Whhuh're yuh hooih?" it shouted, its words slurred to the point of being almost unintelligible.
As the man approached the second golem, he replied calmly, "I sent you and your 'sister' to neutralize the intruders. And you failed to do so, Lamedh." His voice was cold, and unnaturally harsh, as if the sound of shearing metal had been reshaped into the form of words. He rested a hand on the side of her head. "You should be well-aware that I do not reward failure."
All of a sudden, the man in the white coat jammed the needles on his fingertips into the side of the golem's neck. Pink-red fluid flowed through the needles, into tubes attached to the man's glove. The golem writhed against its restraints, but within moments, the pink-red glow in her eye dimmed, and she fell slack.
The man looked at the glowing fluid in the tubes on his glove. "Hmm, at least rubedo loss was minimal. I should be able to produce at least one scout-class unit with the material on hand…" He then walked to a third table against the far wall, laden with strange tools. He picked up one of them- a serrated saw with a black blade.
Before the man could turn, Abel and Seth retreated from the door, hurrying to the far end of the passageway as quickly and as quietly as they could. It wasn't until they were down halfway down the stairwell behind the far door that they stopped, Seth listening to ensure they hadn't been followed. After several moments of silence, she said, "That must be who we're looking for." After another moment, she added, "…We could've taken him. When his back was turned."
Abel's heart was pounding in his chest, and he was breathing heavily, but not out of exertion. From fear. Zoyin's presence had filled him with a sense of unease, but that unease- magnified tenfold- had come over him almost the moment he'd laid eyes on the man. Someone who could discard his creations so callously was not someone to be trifled with. And for all he knew, the man could have been aware of them, the display some sort of ruse to lure them in. As much as Abel wanted to stop him, they needed to be fully prepared. And the first step to that was reuniting with the rest of their companions. "Let's keep moving," he finally said.
Wordlessly, Seth nodded, and they continued their descent. The next floor was much like the one they'd entered from, as was the one below it; and like that floor, there were no stairs along the outer wall, so they had to search room by room to continue their descent. But though they found a few items of interest- most notably, a room full of metal limbs of various kinds- it was what they didn't find that put Abel on edge. Other than the white-haired man, they hadn't encountered another living person in the tower, flesh golem or otherwise. Was the man that confident that his sanctum would be unbreached? Or was this, again, a ruse, something to lure them into a false sense of security? Abel didn't know, and the longer he spent not knowing, the worse the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach became.
They descended two more floors. But the newest floor was different from the others. It was a mostly empty space, save for the large black metal pillar rising from the center of the room. And behind it, with a large metal bar blocking it, was a familiar-looking gate. Abel didn't wait, even when Seth called out to him- he quickly crossed the room, put his shoulder under the bar, and tried to lift it. It shifted with a loud rattle… but that was all. As hard as he pushed, it wouldn't move any further.
Seth followed right after him. "I told you to wait, didn't I?" she said, before pointing at the bar. "Look there." Abel looked- the end of the bar was held against the latch by a large metal padlock. The lock was easily bigger than his hand. He had no idea how he'd missed it. But Seth wasted no time in approaching the padlock, inserting two thin metal wires into its keyhole. "Just leave this to me. Keep an eye out." As she worked, Abel turned, watching the far end of the room with his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Abel wasn't sure how long it took- a minute, maybe two. But as Seth fiddled with the lock, it clicked and flew open. Shifting it aside, the thief put her shoulder under the bar and said, "Alright Abel, give me a hand." Abel helped her lift the bar, and with several pulls, the large gate swung open. As it opened, he could hear voices- specifically, Raine saying, "Hey, look at that!" and Claire grumbling, "Finally…" And once the gate was fully opened, the others stepped inside. "Excellent work, you two," Roland said.
Abel ignored the compliment, searching for Lailah. Once he laid eyes on the priestess, he hurried to her. She didn't look much worse off than she did earlier, but still… "Sorry to keep you waiting."
She smiled faintly. "It's fine," she replied in a weak voice. "I'm just glad you're okay."
"That took quite a while…" Violet said. "Did you run into any trouble? We did not hear any commotion from outside."
"No, nothing like that," Abel replied. "This whole tower's like a maze."
Fiann held up her journal. [Were you followed?]
Abel shook his head. "I don't think so. We didn't run into anyone else. Just-"
At that moment, an unnaturally harsh voice spoke up. "Ah. Visitors."
Abel quickly turned around, drawing his sword. Stepping around the room's central pillar, was the white-haired man from earlier. "I must apologize," he continued. "I would have sent someone to open the gate for you, but I'm afraid I find myself somewhat… short-staffed at the moment."
No one said anything. Warily, Abel backed away from the man, Seth doing the same alongside him. Some of the man's hair hung in front of his face, covering the left side- on the right side, he wore a strange lens over his eye. Beneath his coat, Abel could see tubes running across the man's chest, filled with rubedo, all centered around a valve over the spot where the man's heart would have been. But it was the man's expression that was most unnerving of all. He wore a broad smile on his face. But it was not a friendly smile. Nor the predatory smile worn by the bandit who'd stabbed Abel just before doing the deed. The only way Abel could describe it was the smile of a complete and utter madman.
The man spread his arms wide, in a welcoming gesture, his already wide smile somehow widening further. "…well? Aren't you going to step inside? I'm sure you didn't come all this way just to stand there gawking."
Someone did step forward at his urging. Minze. She had her sword in hand, gripping it tightly enough to leave small dents in the metal hilt, her face twisted in anger. She raised her blade with one hand, pointing it at the man, and growled with more emotion than Abel had heard in her voice before that moment. "Guillaume."
The man turned his gaze to Minze. "Yes, that is my name. …Do we know each other?"
"You and my master were acquaintances. He told me quite a lot about you." Minze pulled her sword back, gripping it with both hands in a wide stance. "About your crimes."
As the man and the maid traded words, Abel and the others were huddled close, weapons ready, but taking no action. "Is… that really Guillaume?" Holly asked in a shaky voice.
"I saw a portrait of him once," Roland replied in a low voice. "If it isn't him, it's a very convincing doppelganger."
Guillaume reached up, removed the lens over his eye, and slipped it in his pocket. He was no longer smiling. "…I see. You must be one of Valerian's brood. And you're every bit as small-minded as your patriarch." He tilted his head back, eyeing the maid with disdain. "But I wouldn't expect you to understand, any more than he did. Genius is rarely ever recognized in its own time."
Hearing his words made something inside Abel break. He wasn't afraid anymore. Now… he was angry. He stepped forward, despite the others trying to call him back, even reaching out to stop him. "'Genius?' That's what you call it? That room full of bones?" He took another step forward, heat rising within him. "And Erica's murder? Is that also part of your 'genius?'"
"Progress demands sacrifice," Guillaume replied. "It is a necessity. A burden of genius. But rest assured- every person who died in the course of my research did not die in vain." Abel found himself unnerved again. But, not from Guillaume's words. It was his tone. He spoke with complete sincerity- a confidence that came from knowing he had made the right decision.
For a moment, Abel stood dumbfounded, too confused to even be angry. But then, Violet broke away from the others. The older man's gaze fell on her in turn. "Oh my. Are we all airing our grievances now? Please do. It's not like I have work to do."
Violet stood silently, tense, her hands balled into fists. Abel expected the alchemist to rush forward and attack Guillaume. But instead, she spoke. "I was raised listening to stories about you, reading about you in Grandfather's journal. And in my mind, I built an image of what I thought you were like. I thought… I understood you. But… I was wrong. My imagination… does you no justice. Even my deepest, darkest nightmares could never hope to craft something as monstrous as you." As she spoke, she drew her gun, and aimed it at Guillaume.
Guillaume tilted his head, unfazed by the weapon pointed at him. His smile had returned. Not the manic smile of before, but something smaller, more subdued. "And just what do you plan to do with that, child?"
She glared as she replied, "What Valerian should have."
Fire erupted from the barrel of Violet's gun. But Guillaume stood his ground as he reached up… and caught the bullet with his hand. The tips of his fingers smoked as he held it, and he looked at the alchemist, the smile never leaving his face.
Then, Guillaume began to laugh. His laughter was quiet at first, but grew louder and more intense, until he was cackling madly. Abel watched warily, and glanced back to the others. But no one made a move. And after several moments, Guillaume finally composed himself, a mad smile plastered on his face. "For so long, I searched for Valerian's descendants. But I never expected this. To think, that the daughters of my most hated foe would deliver themselves to me, to my own doorstep!" He burst out laughing again, and again, it took several moments for Guillaume to collect himself. "I apologize, but I really must thank you." His smile broadened. "I never expected to have the chance to end Valerian's line with my own hand."
Minze tensed. "Not on my watch." She disappeared, before reappearing in front of Valerian, her massive sword already mid-swing. Guillaume raised his arms, and there was a tremendous clang of metal striking metal as the maid's sword struck his arms, and for a brief moment, through tears in the sleeves of his coat, glints of black metal could be seen. As he stepped back, Guillaume pulled something from his belt- a whip, with pieces of metal woven into the cord… or so Abel thought at first. But with a flick of his wrist, the cord instantly shortened, snapping the metal pieces together into the form of a short sword. The maid rushed forward- Guillaume swung his blade, the weapon easily extending to bridge the distance between them. The blades sliced into her arm, but she didn't stop as she swung her blade at him again in turn. Again, he evaded, but not by leaping back- instead, Guillaume leapt straight up, clinging to the ceiling for a moment like a giant insect, before propelling himself away. But he didn't launch himself at Minze. Instead, his aim had turned… toward Violet.
The alchemist saw the blow coming, but not fast enough. Before she could even turn her gun his way, Guillaume swung his sword, its blades wrapping around her arm and her shoulder, before ripping into her flesh with sprays of blood. The alchemist crumpled to the ground, clutching at her shoulder as blood spilled from the wound, as the older man landed nimbly a few paces away. And everyone sprang on him. Roland deftly circled around to strike at his front; Abel darted forward to strike at the white-haired man's left; Claire muttered, bringing her hand to her chest as arcs of electricity surged across it; and in the blink of an eye, Minze had crossed the distance between herself and Guillaume, blade raised to strike at his back. But none of them made contact with Guillaume. He evaded each attack with an effortless grace, sidestepping Roland's swing, ducking under Abel's, curving his body just enough for Claire's spell to miss him, and again sidestepping Minze, placing himself directly behind the maid. Undeterred, she turned, swinging her blade with enough force to cut through a tree with a single swing. But he blocked her swing with his arm, before looping it around her sword and pulling it against his body. Before she could pull it free, Guillaume slammed his palm into her face- there was a crack as her nose was broken, and an even louder crack when the back of her head slammed against the stony floor. Guillaume turned the sword in his other hand downward, raising it up as if to plunge it into Minze's chest…
…But he would never have the chance. In an instant, the wings on Abel's back flared to life, and he flew as fast as they would carry him toward Guillaume. The older man turned, lashing out with his whip-like sword- reflexively, Abel called a sword of light to his free hand and swung it at the cord. Whatever Guillaume had done to make his flesh golems so resilient, he had not done the same to his weapon- Abel's blade cut through Guillaume's with ease. But the loose end whipped through the air, cutting across Abel's face. But he ignored the pain, and with an enraged shout, he swung his sword with all his might at Guillaume.
Undaunted, Guillaume reached up, as if to catch Abel's blade. But Abel wouldn't let himself be caught by the same trick twice. The sword of light winked out of existence before it touched Guillaume's hand… only to burst back to life directly behind it, and cut directly into Guillaume's shoulder. Then he raised his other hand, aiming it directly into the white-haired man's chest. "Angel Fire!" In an instant, the man was swallowed by a gout of white flames, flames that burned hotter and brighter than Abel had ever produced before. After only a few moments, the flames died away as Abel was overtaken with a splitting headache. He'd already drained his mana.
But as the flame dispersed, a black metal hand reached out, and seized Abel by the throat. Guillaume was still standing. In fact, Abel's flames had barely harmed him at all- all they had succeeded in doing was burning away his coat. The only part of him that was still flesh was his torso and his head- everything else had been replaced with limbs made from the same black metal as the other flesh golems' limbs. Tubes full of pink-red rubedo ran across his entire body, attached to small, seemingly numberless valves. He lifted Abel into the air, the mad smile breaking across his face. Abel tried to break free, to fly himself out of the madman's grasp, but without mana to fuel them, his wings sputtered and died out. "Remarkable," he said. "When I saw that one of my Gimel units had been disabled, I refused to believe it. They had enough strength to stand against a small army. But now… now I see." His grip tightened, and a choked gasp escaped Abel's throat. "You will make exceptional research material."
Guillaume raised Abel higher. And as the white-haired man's grip tightened further, Abel's consciousness faded, as the sound of blood rushing in his ears grew louder and louder. But all at once, Abel was suddenly whipped through the air, and thrown aside. He tumbled helplessly before crashing into something, and both he and whatever he hit fell to the floor with a painful thump. The pain in his throat was overwhelming, but he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain, and looked down at what he'd hit.
It was… Claire. With a pained groan, she stumbled to her feet, as if oblivious to her surroundings. "Ah… you're not as light as you look, degenerate." Abel had no time to deal with the president's retorts- he wheeled around, sword in hand, expecting Guillaume to be behind him. But, the others had used the opening to strike at the white-haired man. Roland struck at Guillaume with all his strength, Durandal turned into nothing more than a gold-and-silver arc in his hands- at the same time, Fiann struck from the side, swiping at Guillaume with a blind fury. Yet, neither struck him- he weaved through their strikes with a casual, almost bored expression on his face. At the same time however, Seth had circled behind the room's central pillar, taking careful aim. She then fired- the arrow whipped through the air, past Roland, and struck Guillaume… but it struck one of his metallic arms, creating a brief spark, but little else. Without a moment of hesitation, he raised his arm toward Seth. Something shot out from under his wrist- Seth ducked behind the pillar, just as a thin metal needle as long as an arrow flew through the spot where she'd been standing, and embedded itself in the room's far wall.
In that moment when Guillaume was distracted, Roland swung his sword. But something erupted from Guillaume's back to block his strike. It was a tail, similar but different to the one Zoyin had- it was much thinner, and shorter, but covered in metal plates, and tipped with a sharp-looking blade. Without hesitating, Guillaume aimed, and fired a metal arrow into each of Roland's legs, driving the prince to his knees. Fiann leapt at Guillaume's back, but without even looking, he grabbed her arm, before whipping her against the ground. Before she could rise, he drove his heel into her back with a painful crunch. Fiann pressed her hands against the ground and tried to stand- another stomp from Guillaume, this time aimed at her neck, put her down for the count.
Calmly, Guillaume's gaze swept across the room. But all at once, he stumbled forward, as if pushed. Holly had charged into him from behind with her shield raised, before swinging its edge at his chest. But he caught her shield, lifting her up with ease. The mercenary tried to kick at him, but her legs were too short. Then, he slammed her into the ground, driving the edge of her shield into her throat hard enough to make Abel recoil. Guillaume then began to stride toward Abel and Claire, completely ignoring Holly as she writhed on the ground, gasping and choking.
Claire gritted her teeth, clutching her staff tightly. "Degenerate," she said. "I have a spell I save for emergency situations. It's powerful, but I need time to prepare it. Keep that thing away from me until I can use it. Got that?"
A spell? Would that work? Seemingly every one of Guillaume's creations had been immune to magic… but, Claire was strong. Stronger than him. Maybe her magic could do what his couldn't. And he had more than enough reasons to go on the offensive. So, with a nod, he charged toward Guillaume, as Claire held her staff in front of her, the beginning of her incantation ringing faintly in his ears: "I, who am united with the abyss… Whilst the depths of despair consume thee…"
Abel's feet thudded across the stone floor as he ran. He tried to call forth another blade of light, but the dull pounding in his head meant his mana was still too low. He would have to rely on nothing but his own strength. And once he was close enough, he swung his sword at Guillaume, aiming for the one place that seemed able to stop the flesh golems- his neck. But Guillaume batted Abel's sword aside with his metallic forearm, and he barely had time to react before a metal hand gripped him by the shoulder and threw him aside. He rolled back onto his feet, and turned to face Guillaume again. But all at once, something swept Abel's feet out from under him. Abel sprang to his feet, to see Guillaume's segmented tail pulling back. His grip tightened, and anger flared in his chest. The white-haired man was toying with him. Abel charged at Guillaume's back, swinging his blade- Guillaume easily dodged, and Abel swung again and again, only to miss every time. Then, with another sweep of his tail, Guillaume knocked Abel off his feet. The back of his head hit the ground, and bright spots danced in front of his eyes. Much more slowly than before, Abel staggered to his feet, his stomach roiling.
But at that moment, he heard Claire call out. "…cry havoc and with your wrath lead my enemies to their doom! Indignation!" For a moment, the world darkened, before Abel was blinded by a flash of light. A deafening rumble filled his ears, rattling him down to the bone, and a wave of hot wind washed over him. His hair stood on end, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to burn. But as his vision returned, he saw Guillaume standing. What little flesh he had was blacked and cracked in places, but he was still very much alive.
Claire, sweating heavily, thin streams of blood leaking from her eyes, sank to her knees, her staff clattering to the floor. "But… how…" she said between breaths.
"Indignation…" Guillaume said calmly, striding toward Claire. "I must say, mastering such a high-level spell at your age is rather impressive." When he was near, Claire snatched her staff off the ground and swung it at the white-haired man. It rang out when it struck his side… but the blow didn't seem to affect him at all. "But I've had centuries to perfect my craft. Your magic could never hope to overcome my science." He pulled back his foot, before kicking Claire away. She flew into the tower's central pillar, crying out in pain as she struck it hard enough to leave a dent in its surface, before falling to the floor, motionless.
Abel stood stupefied. Roland, Fiann, and now Claire. They were some of the strongest fighters in the group, but Guillaume had bested each one in turn, and was hardly any worse for wear. How could they stop him now? But then, a thunderous crack rang out. Sparks, and a small spray of pink-red blood, flew from Guillaume's head. Then there was a second crack, with more sparks and more rubedo. Abel followed the sound to its source. Outside the tower, Raine stood with her Vajra braced against her shoulder, aiming directly at Guillaume. A third crack rang out… but Guillaume had seen her too, and with incredible swiftness, he leapt behind the central pillar. Seth had no time to react as Guillaume grabbed her, holding the thief as a shield between himself and Raine. She cried out and tried to squirm out of his grasp, but couldn't escape. And as he held the thief, Guillaume ran at Raine. The witch aimed her Vajra, but it seemed there were no openings that would let her shoot without also hitting Seth, so instead, she raised her right hand, drawing a sigil in the air. The pattern she drew hung in the air, before spewing out a thick cloud of black smoke that completely obscured both Raine and Guillaume.
Though his thoughts were still clouded, Abel turned, preparing to chase after Guillaume as more cracks rang out from within the smokescreen. But something suddenly grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. He started his swing… only to find himself facing Violet, splattered with blood, the wounds on her arm and shoulder partly- but not wholly- shut. Before Abel could say anything, the alchemist shoved a yellow bottle into his hand with her good hand. "Drink this."
"Wha- what even-" he began.
"No time," she replied in clipped words. "Have to help the others. Drink it."
Abel complied, quickly downing the bottle's contents, shuddering from its overwhelmingly bitter taste. But almost immediately, the pain began to subside. The dull pounding in his head remained, but he'd have to deal with it.
And not a moment too soon. Seth and Raine came hurtling out of the smoke cloud, tangled over one another. Guillaume strode out of the smokescreen after them, looking quite a bit worse for wear- his body was riddled with holes, and a number of the tubes on his torso had been broken, leaking glowing pink-red blood. His smile was gone, replaced with an expression of pure anger. "I'd intended to capture all of you alive…" he said, as Raine struggled to her feet- Seth remained motionless, trails of blood leaking from her nose and her ear. But before the witch could fully recover, Guillaume's tail lashed out, its blade stabbing her in the leg. As she doubled over, he raised his foot and drove it down into her back, pinning her down. "But I think I'm just going to kill you here and now." He aimed his arm at Raine's head. "No one makes a fool of me and gets away with it."
"Like hell you will!" In spite of the pounding in his head, wings of fire erupted from Abel's back and he flew at Guillaume. He turned his aim toward Abel, and another metal arrow shot from his wrist. Abel weaved to the side, before swinging his sword with all his strength at Guillaume's neck again. But Guillaume was faster, catching the steel blade with a single hand. Abel pressed his blade as hard as he could, but it was hopeless- the steel simply wasn't sharp enough or strong enough to cut through the white-haired man's limbs. He would have called a blade of light, but his head was already throbbing terribly, and he could feel his eyes leaking from the strain- he simply didn't have the mana to spare.
And Guillaume noticed. "It seems you're already at your limit," the white-haired man said. "It's a shame. It's been some time since I've enjoyed myself this much. But there was no other way this could end." Guillaume's tail flexed, its blade aimed directly at Abel, while he turned his free hand to the fallen Raine.
Abel had to do something. He couldn't call a sword of light, but… In desperation, he slammed his free hand against Guillaume's face. "Angel Fire!" A brief gout of white fire rushed from his palm… but it only lasted for a second, and though the skin where Abel had touched had been blackened, Guillaume barely reacted. "If I were a normal human, that would have been quite painful," he said. "But I assure you, not as painful as this will be for you." A glow began to shine behind Guillaume's hair, where his eye would be. Not a pink-red light. But a bright, burning red. Then, what Abel could only describe as a beam of fire shot out from Guillaume's left eye. It struck Abel directly in the stomach, knocking him back and flooding Abel's body with a burning sensation. He cried out, unable to rise, to do anything other than writhe in pain as Guillaume advanced toward him. The skin around the white-haired man's left eye had been cut away, revealing not bone, but a metal plate, surrounding a lens that shone with a faint red light.
"What do you think of my newest creation?" he asked. "Although I test every modification prior to installing them in my field units, I never expected the chance to test them in the field for myself." He let out a small laugh. "A successful field test, collection of new material… and the chance to wipe out one of my oldest and greatest foes. I don't think this day could be any better. Now…" his gaze swept over the room. "Where did that little Promestein sneak off to?"
In spite of the pain, Abel tried to rise. But his legs simply refused to move under him. Violet… everyone was in danger. The others were scattered around, lying motionless, whether unconscious or… worse, Abel didn't know. He was the only one left who could fight. But his limbs refused to move, as if he were a statue. The pounding in his head had gotten so bad, it felt like it was crushing his skull. But even so, he tried to put his hand over his wound, and concentrate, pushing through the pain to envision Lailah's smile, but the memory… it was too far away for him to grasp.
But with that thought came a question. Where was the priestess? She hadn't fought Guillaume, but she wasn't among the fallen…
As Guillaume's gaze swept across the room, it stopped on something. Abel didn't have to follow it to know that he'd spotted Violet. Several bangs rang out as the alchemist fired her gun at the white-haired man. Painfully, Abel turned, watching as Violet stumbled back from Minze's prone form. She fired over and over again, but though every shot hit its mark, it did nothing to slow Guillaume's advance. "Come now," he said. "There's no need to be frightened. I'm not going to kill you. …well, not yet, anyway."
But his words were cut off when a silver blur slammed into his back, and a spear burst through his chest with a spray of pink-red blood, knocking him onto his hands and knees. In an instant, Lailah leapt onto his back, face twisted in rage and a red gleam in her eye as she grabbed his head and slammed him into the ground face-first. Again and again the priestess smashed the white-haired man's against the ground… until he reached back, grabbing her by the arm, and whipped her against the ground. The impact made parts of Lailah's armor shatter as if it were made of glass, but in moments, she was back on her feet, rushing toward Guillaume again. He thrust his tail toward her, but she darted to the side before grabbing it, and planted her foot against his stomach, and began to pull, as if trying to tear Guillaume's tail from his body. But then, Guillaume's eye flashed red, and another beam of fire shot from it, striking Lailah dead center, and sending her sprawling back as shards of her breastplate rained down around her. As she fell, Guillaume reached up, and pulled the spear impaling him out through his chest, before gripping it tightly, and stabbing it through Lailah's leg before she could rise.
Lailah cried out in pain, and tried to pull back. But Guillaume had driven the spear all the way through the priestess's leg, and into the floor underneath, pinning her in place. Guillaume glared down at her, saying, "I'll deal with you in just a moment." As brief as it was, Lailah's assault had given him the most serious wounds- the white-haired man's nose had been pushed into his face, his lips were torn, several of his teeth were missing, and there were spots on his chin and forehead where his flesh had been beaten away, exposing gleaming metal in place of bone. He began to turn away, but stopped abruptly, as if noticing something. "Wait…" He then gave Lailah another look. "Your face… I've seen it before…"
Lailah reached up, and tried to pull her spear out from her leg. But Guillaume kicked her onto her back, before pinning her down by stamping his foot into her shoulder. She cried out again, but the white-haired man was unmoved as he looked closely at her face. After a moment, he smiled. "Ah, I see now," he said. "I must say, you're the spitting image of your mother."
When he saw Guillaume drive Lailah's own spear into the priestess's leg, the rest of the world faded from Abel's perception. All he saw were the two. All he heard were the madman's words. In spite of the pain, something inside of Abel commanded him to stand. But it wasn't a voice, or at least, not something he heard. It was something he felt within every fiber of his being. A commandment that seemed to flood into his mind, repeating endlessly.
Burn.
Wings erupted from Abel's back, wings made from pure white fire, Burning so hot and so brightly that it was as if the sun itself had risen where he'd stood. Yet, even as their heat blackened the ground beneath his feet, as their fingers traced over his body, the flames did not hurt him. Then, Abel launched himself at Guillaume, flying faster than an arrow- so quickly did he strike that the madman barely had the time to turn to face him, much less react. He'd meant to grab Guillaume by the waist, but at his speed, Abel's outstretched arm stabbed straight through the older man's chest, before the two of them crashed through the tower's wall. But Abel quickly turned this to his advantage- he flew upward, arcing back toward the tower, before driving Guillaume through the outer wall again. He flew through the tower, smashing the man through every wall, every obstacle in his path, before again breaching the outer wall, arcing upwards, and crashing through the tower once more. Over and over again he pierced through the tower like a cannonball wreathed in fire, until he reached the topmost level- with no more tower, Abel shoved Guillaume off his arm, letting him fall to the ground, far below them.
The man was barely recognizable from when he'd first descended from the tower. All but one of his limbs- his left arm- had been ripped away, his wounds spewing glowing pink-red blood through the air as he fell. The numberless impacts had torn off his skin, exposing half-limbs and structures of metal rather than flesh and bone. Only his head seemed to be intact, but now lined with deep cuts leaking glowing rubedo in narrow rivers down his face.
But most unbelievably… Guillaume was still alive. In spite of the damage he'd suffered, the madman's face contorted in surprise as he fell for a moment… before twisting in anger as he aimed his left arm at Abel. Something shot out from the underside of his wrist, and a pain stabbed through Abel's leg as he was hit by a metal arrow. Another arrow shot from Guillaume's wrist- Abel moved aside to avoid it. Then, Guillaume hit the ground, throwing up dirt and another spray of rubedo. But even so, he raised his arm again, as if to fire another arrow.
Abel had had enough of this blight's defiance. He would eradicate it from the earth, scour it from memory, Burn it away so completely, so thoroughly, that no trace of its existence would be left behind. Not even ashes.
He drew his arms back. And a word left his mouth, one he had never said before, but which came to him with ease, as if he had said it countless times before.
"Eschaton."
Beams of light surged from Abel's body, shining brighter than the sun, before they curved through the air, arcing toward Guillaume. They struck him, one after the other, as if guided by invisible hands, each beam hitting the man dead center in his body. But this was not enough. And when the last beam struck, it exploded, sending out a shockwave that rippled across the ground, and a flash of light that forced Abel to cover his eyes. When he looked once more, Guillaume's form was gone. In its place was a hole in the ground ten paces wide, its edges still glowing red from the explosion.
Slowly, Abel lowered himself down, floating above the still smoldering hole. For a moment, he thought he'd succeeded in Burning the blight away. But then, he saw something. A shape, resembling a melted skull, ribcage, and skeletal left arm, glowing a bright cherry red. There was no flesh anywhere on the shape, and it lay completely still. The melted shape was all that was left of Guillaume Rouque.
Satisfied, Abel began to turn away. But then, he saw the shape move. It raised its arm toward him, but the skeletal limb began to bend, before breaking off entirely.
The flaming wings on Abel's back surged. In spite of everything, Guillaume was still alive. He dived into the hole and seized the shape by what remained of its neck, lifting it into the air, ignoring the pain as the melting metal seared his hand.
Guillaume turned his head toward Abel, seemingly still able to see him through the cracked lens that replaced his eye. "…Well… you're quite an interesting subject… aren't you?" he wheezed, and laughed faintly. "You've given me… some new ideas for future modifications."
Abel said nothing. He raised his hand, beams of light again radiating from his body as he prepared to Burn his enemy again…
…but then, Guillaume wretched, and seized. The red light behind the lens dimmed, before going out completely. Guillaume's head rolled back, and stared off over Abel's shoulder with its empty sockets, its jaw half open, completely still.
Abel tossed the lump of black metal aside, and lifted himself out of the hole. And once he had, someone called out to him. "Abel!" His gaze turned to the source. It was the demon, leaning on the alchemist for support as the two of them stumbled toward him. As he looked at them, he slowly began to advance, his mind filling with the commandment to Burn once more…
But Abel stopped, and blinked a few times. The danger had passed. The people standing before him were his friends, not his enemies. And with that realization, the blazing wings on his back were extinguished. But he felt something else, a sensation he almost couldn't describe. It felt like… a weight had been lifted from his mind, one he hadn't realized had been there until it was gone.
And with that weight lifted, Abel suddenly became aware of the pain. His legs trembled, before giving out entirely, and he fell to his knees. He hurt. Every single part of his body seemed to hurt. His legs, his back, his chest, his head, his shoulders, his arms… there wasn't a single part of him that wasn't in pain. And… was that an arrow embedded in his leg?
When he fell, Lailah broke away from Violet and hurried toward him with an awkward, stumbling run, dragging one of her legs behind him. She'd shed the remnants of her battered and broken armor, leaving her clad in ragged, bloodstained blue-and-white robes. When she'd reached him, the priestess sank to her knees as well, gripping his shoulders. "Abel! Abel, are you alright!?"
Abel tried to answer, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't seem to find the strength to push out the words he wanted to say. He wanted to ask if she was alright. Where the others were. If they were still alive. But, his words failed him. And after a moment, so did his body. He fell against Lailah limply, too weak to even hold himself up. "Abel! Abel!" Lailah shook him. He could hear her, but he didn't answer. He couldn't, as much as he wanted to.
Then, Abel heard footsteps approach, and an awkward, strained voice spoke up. "Let me see him, Lailah," Violet said. "Lay him down, gently." Slowly, Abel was laid down on his back- above him, a worried Lailah and a worried Violet looked down at him. "We need to take care of that arrow," the alchemist said. He felt a strange sensation in his leg, as if something heavy were resting on it. "Hold him." Lailah obeyed, pressing down Abel's shoulders firmly.
Then, a blinding pain surged through his leg, coursing through his whole body. Abel tensed, mouth wide open as if to scream, but nothing came out of his throat aside from a silent rush of air. The others' efforts to hold him down proved unnecessary- he was too weak to flail against the pain. But he felt Lailah grab his hand, squeezing it tightly as she said to him, "It's okay, it's okay! I have you! I'm here!" Spots danced in front of Abel's eyes again, and his head swam. Through the haze in his vision, he saw Violet dig through one of the pouches in her belt, before pulling out a small bottle. She uncorked it, and raised it to Abel's lips. The liquid tasted bitter and acrid, but he drank it all anyway. The potion dulled the pain somewhat, but the effect didn't last long- after only a few moments, Abel's whole body pulsed, as if his veins were filled with hot needles. But in spite of the pain, his strength finally returned, and he managed to sit himself up.
Violet and Lailah moved back, to give Abel space. "Hey," Lailah said gently. "How are you feeling?"
"It… still hurts," he replied weakly, finally finding his voice again.
"I am sorry, Abel," the alchemist said. "I would give you another potion, but I used up my stock to treat everyone else. That was my last one."
Abel nodded absently, until he realized what Violet had said. "Wait. What about the others?" He tried to spring to his feet, but he rose more slowly than expected, and his leg buckled almost immediately when he put his weight on it.
But before he could fall, Lailah caught him, and held him up. "They're alright, Abel," she replied. "Some of them are still unconscious, but everyone should live."
Abel tried to shrug the priestess off, and stand on his own two feet, but Lailah's grip on him remained firm. Resigned to having to use her as a crutch, he then said. "Take me to them."
Violet nodded, leading Abel to a patch of ground some distance from the tower as Lailah helped him walk. As she did, she leaned in close, and asked, ""Abel… what… what was that just now?"
"I…" Abel didn't know how to explain it. At first, Niel had something to do with it, but it was different from the times when the angel steered his body for him. He was still in control… but at the same time, he wasn't. He controlled his body, but… his thoughts…
His efforts to explain were interrupted when he saw where the others were gathered. Roland was awake, as were Claire and Minze; the maid was kneeling next to the president, examining her wounds, while Roland stood facing the tower with Durandal in hand, albeit very clearly in pain. The others- Holly, Seth, Raine, and Fiann- were laid out on the ground, lying completely still. When Abel saw them, he found the strength to break away from Lailah, and ran with a painful, awkward gallop toward Seth, the closest of his friends. He slid to a painful stop next to her, putting his ear next to her mouth, and almost collapsed onto her in relief when he heard her slow, but weak breaths. Before he could move to the next person, however, Minze looked his way.
"They'll be alright," she said, in a voice that was both gentle, but firm. "Master Violet used her tonics to mend their wounds, and I've been seeing to them after Prince Roland moved them here to safety."
Abel was about to give the prince his thanks, when a loud sound filled the air, a mix of a loud rumbling and creaking. For a moment, Abel thought it was some kind of new weapon of Guillaume's, unleashed with his master's death, until he saw Violet point up at the tower. "Look out everyone!"
The tower was leaning precariously to the side, its metal exterior groaning loudly in protest. But, then again, after he'd crashed through it a half-dozen times, it was probably nothing short of a miracle it was still standing as it was. It was leaning to the left, and away from where everyone had been gathered, but even so, Abel scooped Seth off the ground and began running away from the tower with the thief in his arms. The others followed suit- the prince carried Fiann, while Minze slung both Raine and Holly over each shoulder, while the rest limped away as quickly as they could, following Abel's lead.
The air filled with a loud crack, and the earth beneath Abel's feet shook. He stumbled as rocks and other debris pelted his back, curling himself over Seth to act as a shield… but he didn't fall. When the ground stopped shaking, and the air filled with silence, Abel looked back. As he expected, the bulk of the tower had fallen to the ground, its outer walls cracked and shattered as if it were made of glass rather than metal. Only the lowest part of the tower remained standing, resembling a blackened, oversized tree stump, ringed by broken pieces of metal and stone pointing to the sky.
Several moments passed in a deathly silence, as if no one was willing to break the silence. But eventually, someone did. "Good God…" Roland said breathlessly.
After a moment spent catching her breath, Claire looked to Abel and asked, "And where was that during our duel, degenerate?"
As the dust settled, Seth groaned, and shifted in Abel's arms. "Ow…" She then looked up at Abel and twitched, her face quickly darkening. "Ah! …the last time I had this dream, I was in a lot less pain."
"What happened to you?" he asked, setting her back on her feet. "I couldn't see through the smoke."
"Guillaume thought I didn't make a good shield. So he decided to test if I made a better club." She took a small step toward Abel. "So… did you… win?"
An image flashed in Abel's mind of the twisted, blackened remnants of Guillaume's skeleton. He answered, "If you're asking if Guillaume is dead… then, yes. He is."
The commotion had caused Raine, Holly, and Fiann to awaken as well. After Minze looked them over, and after he managed to escape the bard's crushing embrace, the others asked what exactly had happened. Abel recounted everything that had happened, up to the moment of Guillaume's death- occasionally, someone would chime in to share events from their own perspective, painting a full picture of everything that had transpired. However, Abel chose to leave the strange sensation he'd felt out of the discussion. Thinking of it gave him a strange nagging feeling, but he brushed it aside, believing it to be nothing but his own anger at seeing his friend in peril. Once he'd finished, and the others had no details to add, Minze requested to see Guillaume's body. Abel complied, leading the others to the hole burned in the earth. The twisted, melted remnants remained exactly where Abel had tossed them aside. The maid climbed into the hole, and prodded at the remains, but Guillaume did not stir. She then looked up at Violet, and said firmly, "He's dead, My Lady."
"Then… our business here has ended, then," Violet said, holstering her gun. "The state of the world has improved ever so slightly now that Guillaume is no longer in it. I had hoped to land the killing blow myself, but…"
"Alright then," Raine said, weakly but cheerfully. "Let's get out of here."
"Agreed," Lailah replied. "I wanna get out of here and take a nice, long bath."
"Once we're out of the marsh, we should get in contact with the Church, and tell them what we found, Abel," Seth added.
"What are you talking about?" Claire asked. "What did you find?"
"When we were in the tower, Seth and I found a room… full of bodies. I think… they might belong to those missing people Wyvern Company was looking for."
"I see…" the prince replied grimly. "Then we should depart as soon as we can. There is nothing left here for us."
Abel was about to protest, when a scratchy voice said, "Not so fast." Then, Niel emerged, turning to Abel with a glare, her arms folded over her chest. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
Lailah gave the angel a steely glare of her own "Guillaume is dead. What other business could we possibly have here?"
"The business that brought us here in the first place!" Niel snapped back. "Or have all of you already forgotten?"
Raine suddenly stiffened, as if remembering something, hitting her fist against her palm. "Oh! Alondight's altar!"
"Right," Holly added. "We got so wrapped up with everything that happened that I almost forgot about it."
Claire muttered something, which sounded like, "One of the altars is here, of all places? I suppose that answers a few questions…"
Abel hadn't forgotten- he had been just about to broach the subject before the angel's interruption. But now that she'd done it in his stead, he impelled his amulet to find the nearest of Alondight's altars.
It swiftly pointed toward the collapsed tower.
"…you can't be serious," Claire said. But, Abel began approaching the tower- the amulet shifted as he neared, continuing to point at one of the tower's upper floors. He followed the amulet's pull, until it was perpendicular with the fallen tower. Then, after carefully climbing through a crack in the outer wall, lined with broken metal plates that looked as sharp as razors, Abel set foot in the tower for a second time.
He had stepped into the laboratory he and Seth had seen as they navigated through the tower. It was far larger than the narrow view from the door had suggested, but it was the same room without a doubt- above him, two metal tables were mounted to the "wall," their occupants still strapped to them by metal bands. Nearly everything else in the room however had been thrown into a confused pile when the tower fell: shards of glass, broken metal tools, and strange liquids that bubbled and hissed as they mixed together. And buried somewhere in all that debris was his original objective, before Guillaume had intervened: Alondight's altar.
At the very least, his amulet would make finding it a little easier, Abel thought. But as he scanned the debris pile, he spotted something by one of its outer edges- a square slab of white stone. He hurried over to it, just as someone climbed through the crack in the tower wall to follow him. "Abel," Roland's voice called out. But Abel didn't hear. His attention was focused entirely on the white slab… and on the large crack that ran over its surface.
And when he was close enough to see the rest of the altar, his heart sank. There were more slabs of stone- at one point, they had no doubt formed an altar similar to the one at the peak of Mt. Gradivus… but now they were scattered, the smaller slabs chipped and cracked, the largest broken into three separate pieces. …Would this still count as "reaching the altar," if it was in its current state?
Cautiously, Roland made his way to Abel, before looking down at the white stone fragments. "Is that…?"
"It's… an altar of Alondight," Niel replied. "Or… it was, at least."
A few others had followed Roland- Violet, Minze, and Lailah, and they gathered around the shattered altar. "It… it's in pieces now…" Lailah said in disbelief.
"Why was it here in the first place?" Violet asked.
"Guillaume must have known what the altar was," Minze replied. "Perhaps he believed it held some hidden power he'd hoped to exploit for his own ends."
"So… what now?" Lailah asked. "Are we supposed to leave an offering?"
"Tradition states that a Hero need only lay hands on the altar upon reaching it to commune with their patron," Roland replied. "Though given its current state…"
"Well, I can at least try, can't I?" Abel said. He knelt down, reaching out to the largest of the altar's fragments. As his hand neared, the air around it seemed to change- it was as if his hand were a dried-out plant, suddenly being watered again. It seemed that, despite being broken, the altar was somehow keeping the miasma at bay. And the moment he rested his palm against the white stone fragment, there was a flash of white light.
When his vision cleared, Abel found himself standing in a dirt road that cut through a field of golden waist-high grass swaying in a gentle breeze. He recognized this place- it was from the dream he'd had, before waking up in Hokes.
But before he could get his bearings, a friendly voice said, "Hello again, Abel. I'm glad we could meet under happier circumstances."
Abel wheeled around. Behind him, the road abruptly ended at a tall signpost, with a figure standing at its base, smiling in his direction- a woman with curly brown hair, dressed in a worn brown traveler's cloak and a wide-brimmed hat. Abel recognized her- it was the stranger who'd asked him to deliver the message before he'd awakened in Hokes. "You're… uh…" Only now did he realize that the woman had never given her name.
The curly-haired woman stepped forward, and removed her hat. "Right, I never introduced myself, did I? Your Church knows me by the name Hermes, god of travelers and trade, and she who guides departed souls to the land of the dead."
Abel's mind hung on something Hermes had said. Guides departed souls. "What? Wait a minute. Don't tell me-"
Suddenly Hermes laughed. "Heh heh, oh, no, don't worry. You're very much still alive. It's traditional for a god to congratulate a Hero for reaching the altar they selected- you just happened to find the one I chose."
At that moment, the air next to Hermes… bulged. As if there was an invisible door there, and something had tried to break through it. It made Abel jump, but Hermes was calm. "Hmm? A visitor?" She reached out-
Immediately, the air swung open as if it were a door, and a short, blue haired woman burst through the opening, tackling Abel to the ground. "Oh Abel! You did it!"
"Ow-" Abel was surprised- for such a small goddess, Bacchus was surprisingly strong. And surprisingly heavy.
Bacchus wasted no time in dragging Abel back on his feet. "I was watching the whole time!" she said excitedly. "You were amazing! She was right about picking you! I bet the other gods are so jealous right now!"
"Uh… thanks…" Abel trailed off, not quite sure how to address his patron deity. 'Lady Bacchus?' 'Goddess Bacchus?' 'My goddess?'
The goddess gripped Abel's shoulders and shook him vigorously. "Thanks? That's all you have to say!? "Do you have any idea who you just fought!?"
Abel stepped back the moment Bacchus's grip on him loosened. "Yeah. It was Guillaume Rouque, right?"
"Uh-" For a moment, Bacchus looked shocked, then disappointed, as if she'd been trying to sneak up on someone to surprise them, but was found out at the last moment. "Well, yeah. But more importantly, he's part of the Black Hand. One of the Overlord's generals, hand-picked from some of the most powerful monsters in existence!" She jabbed a finger into Abel's chest. "And you just killed him. Before finding any altars at that. You just got a huge leg up on the competition now!"
Bacchus's words made Abel uncomfortable, and not simply because he was unused to praise. He could have died in that battle. All of them could have died, even Roland. Yet the goddess treated it as if it were nothing but a grand spectacle.
…Perhaps Fiann's assessment hadn't been as far off the mark as he'd thought.
But, Abel kept his misgivings to himself. "…What happens next?"
"Well, as impressive as it is to take down a member of the Black Hand, you've still got seven more altars to find," Hermes replied. "But honestly, I can't imagine you'll have much trouble with the rest. I chose this one specifically because Guillaume was guarding it. And now that you've beaten him…" The brown-haired goddess placed her hat back on her head. "Well, I suppose I should be on my way. Best of luck to you." She walked down the road, past Abel and Bacchus, barely sparing a glance. "Hopefully, we won't be seeing each other again for a long while. Oh, and… Ilias requests you not to smash up any more altars you find."
"Where are you going?" Abel asked.
Hermes didn't even look back. But though she moved further and further away, he could still hear her voice clearly, as if she were standing right next to him. "Well, I am a messenger. I have places I need to be. I set time aside to meet you, but I'm already starting to fall behind. You don't mind seeing him out, do you, Bacchus?"
"Not at all." Abel's patron circled around to his front. "Anyway, make sure to celebrate your victory once you get back to civilization! Have a drink in my name! I'll even see if I can pull some strings and have Eros send a frisky lass or two your way." Abel blanched, but before he could say anything, Bacchus continued, "But keep an eye out! It'd be kinda embarrassing for you to die on the way back from your biggest victory so far." She suddenly pulled Abel into a tight embrace. "Keep it up, Abel. Me and Sterope are rooting for you. Never forget that." The goddess then reached up, and tapped her finger against his forehead, filling his vision with a bright light.
"Abel!"
Abel awoke to someone furiously shaking his shoulder. "W-What? What is it?"
He stumbled back, looking around. He was… still inside the tower. Lailah's hand was still on his shoulder. "You were just… standing there staring at nothing," she replied. "What happened?"
"I… Bacchus wanted to talk to me. To congratulate me. And tell me a few things."
At that moment, there was a loud groan from somewhere overhead, and a small amount of dust rained down on the group. "…perhaps discussion can wait until we are safely outside," Minze said.
So, they quickly cleared out. The others were waiting for them outside, though whether it was to defend against any lingering foes, or because they were unwilling to brave the fallen tower's interior, Abel couldn't say. "Did you find it?" Raine asked.
Abel nodded. "Yeah. And when I touched it, Bacchus gave me a message." He looked over to the hole. "That guy… he really was Guillaume Rouque. And Bacchus told me he was a member of the Black Hand- one of the Overlord's most powerful generals."
Roland hummed, putting a hand to his chin. "The Church has always suspected that Overlords in the past employed lieutenants, but could never prove it. But I suppose that this rumor is now confirmed."
"If that's true, I doubt the Overlord will be pleased to learn that one of his lieutenants is dead," Claire said.
"It should take some time for the Overlord to learn of Guillaume's demise," the prince replied. "So we should all be safe, for the time being." He turned. "We should return to Aglis. There's a lot of information we need to pass on to the Church."
"Can we hold on for just a moment?" Abel asked. "I just have one last thing I need to do. I promise." He approached the hole where Guillaume had fallen, and leapt down.
"What are you doing?" Violet asked.
With a thought, a sword of light appeared in Abel's hand, and he picked up the madman's remains. It was much harder to do one-handed than he expected. "In Aglis, one of Guillaume's flesh golems killed a member of the Mages Guild," he replied. "Before we left, I promised her friend that I would find whoever made that golem. That I'd stop them. And… that I'd bring their head back to her." He moved the sword to Guillaume's neck.
"And I intend to keep that promise."