Into the Pandemonium

by StarKnight2.0

Part 2 of "Somewhere Far Beyond." Things are beginning to heat up. Follow Gareth and Kane as they dodge enemies and assume new roles. Ainz follows the path of the Overlord while battling a mysterious rival who wants nothing more than to see Nazarick burn. Meanwhile, secrets are unearthed and ancient powers are awakened, threatening both the players and the New World.

8. Common People

(a/n: hey everyone! sorry for the long wait, life has a funny way of keeping people busy. Enjoy this new chapter.)

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Ch.8: Common People

There were a number of things that Clementine hadn't expected to have done in her storied career as a disgraced former member of the Black Scripture and as an outlaw. Scrubbing floors while dressed in a maid uniform wasn't one of them.

The blonde assassin sighed in frustration as she dunked her brush into the bucket of soapy water and renewed her efforts in eliminating a rather stubborn spot on the marble floor.

"..and you," a severe voice growled.

Clementine lifted her head, her eyes meeting the cold dark orbs of the House Manager. The greying woman was the assassin's immediate superior, whose job was to ensure that everything went smoothly while Marten, Oz's Chamberlain, was away.

"Wha...y-yes ma'am?" Clementine asked, barely managing to restrain her annoyance.

"Once you're finished here, I need you to head down to the kitchen and lend Hope a hand in cleaning the dishes."

"But-"

"But what?" the greying woman's tone hardened along with her expression.

Of all the monsters and enemies she's dealt with in her time, the older woman was by far the worst. Everything about her pissed Clementine off. Ordinarily, the blonde assassin would've chucked the brush away, killed the stuck up old cow, and would have taken what she came here for. Unfortunately, Clementine didn't know what it was she came for and needed to maintain cover until then.

Clenching her jaw and tightening her grip on her scrubbing brush, Clementine chose her words carefully and forcefully removed as much anger from them as possible.

"But...I thought Mary was on kitchen duty?"

"Yes, she was," the House Manager eyed the assassin suspiciously, "until Mr. Marten had her dismissed. Now get back to work and no daydreaming."

With that, the grey haired woman marched off to inspect the rest of the house's staff and attend to her own duties. Clementine resumed her work. Once the older woman was out of sight, the assassin paused. She rose from the floor, her knees ached and joints popped from the countless hours of scrubbing floors. The blonde assassin, after making sure that no one was watching, departed from the still wet section of floor with her bucket and brush.

As she ventured deeper into the mansion, Clementine kept her head low and her pace steady. She didn't want to move too quickly or too slowly. A pair of emerald armored soldiers marched by, not sparing her a glance.

Reaching up to the left arm sleeve of her uniform, Clementine felt the familiar shape and weight of the brass key she swiped from Marten a few days ago. It was the very same key that poor simple Mary was accused of stealing and was dismissed for. After hearing the guards disappear around the corner behind her, the blonde assassin stepped quickly and lightly onward. She needed to reach the study on the second floor. It took two weeks of careful questions and volunteering for numerous mind-numbing chores, but she was able to get a layout of the house and mapped out the best possible routes to her target. Although she felt like she was in the clear, Clementine took a deep breath and forced herself to remain cautious. Last time she got overly confident, a lich crushed her to death. But she couldn't help it, Clementine was looking forward to getting the hell out of this wretched house.

Two whole weeks of menial chores, sleeping in cramped servants quarters and putting up with a stuck up old crone like the House Manager, seriously tried Clementine's resolve and patience. Fortunately, thanks to Gonzalo's constant worrying and reminders, the assassin kept a tight grip on her emotions and forged ahead. Now, she was a few steps away from breaching the wizard's inner sanctum and grabbing anything of value.

Despite having just moved into this mansion a few weeks ago, it was mind boggling to see just how much a wizard and his small entourage could generate such a staggering amount of chores!

Hearing the distant sound of footsteps approaching, Clementine resumed her kneeling position and returned to scrubbing. Fortunately, it was just one of the other maids trotting by, carrying a mop and bucket, which allowed her mind to focus on a task elsewhere in the house. Although some of the staff weren't as professional or as strict as the House Manager, Clementine knew that she had to keep up appearances. She never knew if one of them would tattle on her or was reporting to the wizard himself. Resuming her journey to the study, the blonde assassin's thoughts turned toward the owner of the mansion.

Oz, the emerald wizard, was certainly an unusual man. In all her time in the house, Clementine has yet to see him. None of the other maids has spoken to, let alone seen, the wizard. When questioned about their employer, the House Manager blithely replied that "Lord Oz is a busy man," and left it at that.

Passing an alcove, Clementine eyed the lone remnant of the previous owner of the mansion: a marble bust of a harsh looking old man. His blank eyes seemed to follow her as she passed. The blonde assassin simply hastened her steps, not wanting to spend another moment around the eerie sculpture. Clementine never knew the man personally, having spent a lot of her time abroad with the Black Scripture, but she knew him by reputation. A powerful Archbishop in the Ministry of Finance, he was pious and humble in public while ruthless and severe in private. He had a keen mind for finance and managed to build himself a life of luxury and wealth, despite taking oaths that forbade him from seeking worldly wealth. Anyone who got in his way seldom walked away unscathed. That was, at least, until details came to light regarding his handling of the Theocracy's money and taking bribes. Once his dark secrets were made public, the Archbishop resigned in disgrace and disappeared, his ill gotten fortunes and property sold off and spread out amongst the populace. All this was in thanks to none other than the great and marvelous Oz.

Shortly after the Archbishop's downfall, the wizard, his family, and the rest of his entourage moved out of the hotel they resided in and into the lavish mansion overnight.

It was then that Clementine entered the picture.

Accompanied by her pretend husband Gonzalo, Clementine arrived at Oz's manor and was welcomed in by Marten, the crooked chamberlain. She wasn't alone. There were several other young ladies who had been selected to serve in the wizard's home. They were then turned over to the House Manager, who then told them everything they needed to know, ranging from their duties and, most importantly, what was off limits.

Clementine perked up at that and learned that Oz's study on the second floor was off limits to everyone. Only Marten and a select few were allowed inside. Everyone else who entered were to be accompanied by the chamberlain. Anyone found in the study unauthorized will be punished. What that punishment was, no one could say.

On her first day, Clementine attempted to slip away and sneak into the study. Unfortunately, she couldn't. The House Manager watched her like a hawk and the other maids always questioned her every move or chided her for shirking her duties. In the evening, the assassin attempted to infiltrate the study, but gave up when confronted by a series of guard patrols throughout the mansion. While the blonde assassin was excellent in infiltrating places, even she was hard pressed to find an opening in this tight security web. She considered killing them but was surprised to see that each soldier was equipped with some seriously high level magical armor. A vigilant staff in the day and armed guards at night. It was then that Clementine realized that this job was going to be tougher than she originally thought. After another two failed attempts at a night raid, the assassin decided to spend her evenings mapping out the property itself and locate the best possible escape routes, should she need them.

While not as closely guarded as the Institute or the Pontifex's Palace, the blonde assassin was surprised to learn how well guarded the house really was. On top of a vigilant staff and well equipped guard patrols, Clementine learned that there were layers warding magic and traps all over the property. It took some time, but Clementine was able to pin down the patterns for the guards and Gonzalo, who was working from the outside, was able to point out gaps in the property's magical defenses. When it looked like she had everything figured out, the blonde assassin discovered a new wrinkle: Galinda.

The wizard's strikingly beautiful wife made sporadic appearances on the property, which threw off the pattern of the patrols. On top of that, Gonzalo recalled a report made by the new Captain of the Sunlight Scriptures, and how the woman single-handedly annihilated a horde of ravenous beastmen at the village of Frith. It was then that they altered their strategy and decided to go for the wizard's study during the day, while the owners of the house were gone and most of the staff busy. Maybe Clementine could get in and lay any possible blame on someone else, should she get caught. Which brings her to now.

After pretending to clean the floor a third time, Clementine proceeded, nearing the doors to the study. The blond assassin lamented the absence of her stilettos. They would have made things far easier. Clementine rounded the corner and bumped into something solid, causing the blond to stumble to the ground and drop her bucket, spilling soapy water everywhere.

"Afternoon, my dear!~" purred a familiar, breathy voice.

Clementine felt a sharp spike of anger and annoyance as she looked and saw what, or rather who, she bumped into. Standing before her was none other than Marten. The hefty man wore an emerald suit that struggled to contain his massive, gelatinous frame. The blonde assassin caught a whiff of something sour and rotten on the man's breath, making her gag a little. If she didn't know any better, Clementine would've guessed that the chamberlain had devoured garbage and rotten meat. He did look bigger than when she last saw him, though. It was a wonder that he could still stand at all.

"M-Mr. Marten," Clementine said, bowing her head as she picked herself up from the floor. "I'm sorry, I-I didn't see you!"

"It's no problem at all. I should be the one to apologize and I've told you before, call me 'Marten', no need to call me 'Mr.''' the emerald cladded servant said with a grin. "How is my favorite girl holding up?"

The blonde assassin felt her skin crawl. She knew men like Marten, men his type. Although they all looked different, came from different backgrounds and were of different ages, they all had the same look in their eyes.

"Holding up fairly well," Clementine said with a smile. "Knees are sore, but I can manage."

"Has Margaret been bothering you?" Marten asked. "I can...speak to her, if you wish?"

"No, don't bother. I can manage. Besides, if she gives me any serious trouble, I can just kill her."

"Indeed you can, though I'd advise against it. It's so hard to find good help these days."

"What's with the suit?" Clementine nodded at the chamberlain's attire. "Going somewhere?"

"This?" Marten gestured to his attire. "Oh, it's nothing. Lord Oz was invited to a function by the mayor, and I attended in his place."

"Another missed party? My, my! I hope something horrible hasn't happened to our Lord Oz!"

"He's well, better than well," Marten said, pulling out a silk hankie and wiping the sweat off his brow. "He's in good health and in great spirits! It's just...Lord Oz is a very busy man. While he enjoys mingling with the people, it's just that the Great One's attention is needed elsewhere. Which is why I and a few others close to him represent him in these public events."

Clementine nodded slowly. The pudgy man's words were logical and made sense, though the blonde assassin didn't believe a single one of them. It was obvious that the emerald wizard was up to something, even a blind man could see it. But what it was, that was the problem. Both the Windflower and the Clearwater Scriptures observed the wizard moving about the capital and interacting with figures from nearly every level of society. In the span of a few short weeks, he captured the hearts of the people and was warmly accepted by the most influential men and women in the city, outside of the Cardinals and the Pontifex himself. No matter what they did, the strange wizard seemed to be a step ahead and able to shroud his motives completely. At a glance, it seemed like the wizard was doing more good than harm. The Healer's Guild was now very open and cooperative, crime was down, and the corruption of a dozen high level clerics in the Theocracy were exposed.

However, upon closer inspection, one can see clearly that these acts weren't just random acts of charity or kindness. They were calculated and precise. With each cleric removed from office, a new official rose to fill the vacancy, one that just so happened to view Oz in a positive light or had connections to those who did. With the Healer's Guild, Clementine heard that the men in charge of running it and were its sole beneficiaries had mysteriously died from a monster attack at a party. An attack where Oz was the sole witness and survivor.

It didn't take a genius to see that something about this charming wizard was wrong. Unfortunately, he was very good at covering his tracks and seemed to have the opinion of the public in the palm of his hand.

"What brings you this way?" Marten asked, his beady eyes scanned the blonde assassin carefully "Obviously not to scrub the floors. Clara had just finished up here and I don't recall Margaret assigning you to the second floor."

"Oh you know me, I just have to sneak a peek at Lord Oz's study!" Clementine said with a grin.

"But that's forbidden!" Marten gasped with mock horror. "You could get into trouble. Unless…"

Clementine's grin waned as the pudgy man stepped closer to the blonde, causing her to retreat and find herself with her back to the wall. The blonde assassin shrank back as much as she could as the chamberlain's immense girth pinned her in place. Marten placed a hand on the wall, just a few inches away from Clementine's head and leaned in close.

"Unless...I can give you a private tour," the chamberlain breathed, licking his lips.

Clementine knew something like this would happen; the slobbering idiot was not subtle about it. She expected him to have made his move already and not ask her for her permission. What a gentleman.

Marten reached up and caressed her cheek, which caused the blonde to flick her wrist, producing the dagger she had hidden up her sleeve. She gently pressed the tip of the blade to the pudgy man's groin, causing him to freeze.

"Easy boy," Clementine purred. "Let's not rush into this just yet."

"But…" Marten began, but she placed a finger on his lips, shushing him.

"It can wait. First, I just want a wittle peek into that study and finish my chores for the day."

"But-"

"Marten!" a high shrill voice cried.

Clementine and the chamberlain turned their heads and saw, standing there, a young girl. The blonde assassin recognized the girl as one of Oz's children, though she had difficulty remembering which one. The two were twins and were eerily similar in appearance and manners. The young girl stood there, dressed in a green and gold dress, her emerald eyes sparkling.

"Marten!" the little girl said "I...I need your help."

Marten immediately pulled away from Clementine and quickly straightened his clothes and his hair. "W-With what, Lady Viviane?" the chamberlain sputtered, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

"One of our toys broke and we need help fixing it!"

"Another one?" Marten said, sounding weary. "My dear, that's the third one this week! Don't you remember what Lord Oz said?"

"I know," the little girl sighed, looking down at her feet, abashed. "Papa always says 'never play rough,' but we can't help it! It's just so much fun!"

Clementine was surprised by how quickly Marten changed. A moment ago he was like an animal in heat, but now he was like an exhausted uncle dealing with a troublesome child. For a moment, she also saw something on the man's pudgy face. If she didn't know any better, Clementine would've said that it was...fear. Was he afraid of this little girl? Of course he would, her father was an all powerful wizard who frightened even the Cardinals.

"Could you...could you possibly take this up with Lady...with your mother?" Marten asked.

"She went to run some errands and Papa is still away on business! We need you. Now!"

Marten looked like he wanted to throw out an excuse but his shoulders sagged, defeated by the demands of a child. He bowed his head low.

"Yes...madam."

With that, Marten sighed and walked off. He cast one last look at Clementine, a pitiful look of a creature denied his deepest desires, and vanished around a corner. The little girl watched Marten's every move and, once he was gone, turned to Clementine.

"What are you doing here?" the girl sniffed.

"Scrubbing floors, milady," Clementine replied, picking up her dropped bucket.

The young girl's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Fortunately, the girl noticed the puddle of soapy water on the floor and nodded.

"Good. Clean this up! Make it spotless. Father hates dirty floors."

Clementine nodded and knelt down, picked up her brush and began to scrub the wet floor. As she scrubbed away the suds and dirt on the floor, the blonde assassin began to feel uncomfortable. In the corner of her eye, Clementine could still see the little girl, Viviane. A few uncomfortable moments passed before the girl spoke.

"He likes you, you know."

"Hmm?"

"Marten. He likes you."

"Oh? I'm flattered."

"Don't be."

Clementine blinked and looked at the girl. A serious look was painted on her pale, rosy cheeked face.

"Bad things happen to things Marten likes. If he likes you too much...he won't let you go. Even if you have a knife."

The blonde assassin felt a chill run down her spine. It was then that Clementine realized the girl was warning her. Before she could ask the little girl for elaboration, another young shrill voice called from elsewhere in the house.

"Viviane! Viviane, where are you? Let's go play in the garden!"

The young girl turned her head and shouted, "I'm coming!"

She looked at Clementine one last time and told her softly, "Be careful. Marten doesn't like playing games very much. When his patience runs out..." Viviane turned and skipped away, leaving the blonde infiltrator confused and worried.

Once the child was gone, the blonde assassin decided to proceed with the mission and get the hell out of this bizarre house. She reached into the hidden pocket in her left sleeve to retrieve the key to the study but stopped. The familiar weight and shape was gone. All that was there was soft fabric and skin.

Clementine looked around frantically, worried that it fell out when she pulled her weapon on Marten. Nothing. Was it possible that he grabbed it from her? But that was impossible! How could he have known it was in her sleeve? Frustration and worry bubbled in the assassin's gut. It took a long time to get that key and she didn't have the time nor patience to locate and swipe another one. Before Clementine's frustration exploded into anger, the assassin recalled the reason why they were cleaning the mansion. There was a party being held here in honor of the wounded soldiers returning home from the war with the Elf Kingdom.

The mansion will be crowded with all sorts of guests and Lord Oz is expected to be there. Why wouldn't he be, it's his house after all. Clementine was expected to be there as well to tend to guests and ensure the night goes off without a hitch. Although the plan was to infiltrate the study and swipe any valuables and ditch the mansion for good today, Clementine saw a perfect second opportunity.

Gonzalo's not going to like it, but this was their best shot. If this blew this, then they can kiss their asses goodbye. Cardinal Lauransan was a patient man, but even his patience had limits.

---

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the capital, Rigrit Bers Caurau drew her cloak around her tightly as the temperature slowly and gradually descended with each step she took. Her companion appeared unaffected, despite his age and the flowing blue robes he wore. The pair were journeying deeper into the earth beneath the capital and the Grand Library. The elderly librarian led the way, bearing a lantern. Tall shadows were cast on the bland stone walls.

"Quite a ways down, isn't it?" Rigrit observed casually, silently counting the steps down.

"Well of course, Lady Rigrit," Thomas replied, as if he were stating an obvious fact. "Not only are these materials the oldest and most valuable items in our collection, they also cover subjects that make His Holiness and my esteemed colleagues rather...uncomfortable."

"How so?"

"The past has always fascinated us. We try to learn from the valuable experiences we've endured and harvest wisdom left behind by our predecessors. The era you're interested in, however, many believe has little to offer besides grim reminders of why we thank the gods for the passing of the Eight Greed Kings and the Demon Gods."

Rigrit nodded slowly. Her aim is to collect information regarding items called Guild Weapons and anything related to a place called Yggdrasil. The best possible place to start was during the era of the Eight Greed Kings. While Rigrit could've gone elsewhere to collect information on these topics, she knew that she'd get nothing reliable. Which was why she was risking execution by sneaking into the Slane Theocracy and visiting the Grand Library. The extensive repository of knowledge was perhaps her best chance of finding anything worthwhile.

While excellent material for chilling campfire stories, the actual history of the Eight Greed Kings and their deeds were more than enough to make stomachs turn. Many are reluctant to discuss the actual history of that era, most preferring to listen to the songs and tales that paint things in a more pleasant light. These stories and songs were many and varied, often obfuscating and even omitting vital information.

"Even so," Rigrit said after a brief pause, "it's best to leave no stone unturned."

"What makes you think that you'll find what you're looking for in such a dreadful era?" Thomas asked, throwing a sideways glance to his old friend.

"Do you know of the Golden Knight?"

"Of course. Who doesn't know of the legendary paladin who led the Thirteen Heroes?"

"Yes, well, you might find this hard to believe, but that legendary paladin wasn't always so."

The elderly librarian raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It's true. He was a scrawny thing, hardly a man of legends. However, with determination and a bit of magic, he was able to become the man we all came to know of."

"I see, and what does this have to do with the Eight Greed Kings or your research?"

"The Golden Knight wielded a weapon that belonged to them."

Thomas nodded slowly. "I've heard rumors about that but nothing reliable. Why did he wield one of their weapons? Those things were instruments of terror and death!"

"That's exactly why he wielded them," Rigrit smiled a little. "Not many are aware of this, but it was a rough journey in those early days. Those 'instruments of terror and death' were a great help in our war against the Demon Gods. In the hands of a man like the Golden Knight, they allowed him to rapidly ascend to new heights. That's why I want to know more about them."

The elderly librarian frowned. "That's what worries me, as well as His Holiness and the rest of my government. While items like those may be a godsend in times of great peril, they can seduce and destroy those with frail hearts and minds. Power corrupts us all."

"That was what the Black Knight said, but look how it all turned out! The Golden Knight remained a good man, all the way to the end."

"But what about…?" The librarian trailed off, letting the question hang in the air.

Although Thomas said nothing else, Rigrit knew what he was getting at. He was really curious about the incident. It's been over a hundred years and the legendary adventurer was not going to start blabbing about a personal tragedy. It was nobody's business. Everyone else among the Thirteen Heroes vowed to never speak of that day and, thus far, nobody has uttered a word about it.

A few moments of silence passed before Rigrit spoke. "That was...that was something else."

The librarian and the legendary adventurer reached the bottom of the long, winding stairs. Waiting for them was a pair of towering oak doors, thick and powerful enough to fend off an invasion. Thomas produced a key from a ring hanging from his belt and inserted it in the lock. The moment the key was inserted, a violet light rippled across the surface of the doors and vanished instantly. An audible click sounded and the doors swung inward, allowing cold and dusty air to spill out.

On the other side of the heavy oak doors, Rigrit was able to see a spacious chamber filled with bookcases. Each shelf was packed with volumes of varying sizes and quality, ranging from perfectly preserved leather bound books to ratty collections of pages held together with string. The chamber seemed to stretch on for a considerable distance, as the light of Thomas's lantern couldn't even reach the opposite end of the chamber. The Forbidden Archives was much larger than Rigrit had expected. The Theocracy had a very strict policy regarding certain books and materials, old and current. She knew they confiscated such things, but Rigrit always assumed they burnt those books.

"Apparently not," she murmured under her breath.

The legendary adventurer followed the librarian into the darkness, the door closed behind them shortly after, sealing them in the archives. Scanning the chamber, Rigrit began to wonder where to begin. Fortunately, she had Thomas with her. The elderly librarian glanced around and zeroed in on the far corner of the chamber. Rigrit followed her friend and glanced at the various shelves they passed. Occasionally, she caught glimpses of titles and names on the various books she passed. Some were in a variety of unreadable languages, others were faded from time, and some were just blank. As they delved deeper into the archives, the books grew older and more unusual. One book caught her interest and made her pause. The book was thick, bound in black leather, and was wrapped up in rusty old chains.

Rigrit reached for the book but stopped when Thomas spoke.

"No stopping," Thomas said stiffly, continuing on without looking back. "We don't have time to loiter about. In and out, just like you promised."

"Can't I just take a little peek?" Rigrit asked playfully. "I promise I'll be quick."

Thomas stopped and looked at the adventurer. His eyes narrowed when he saw the book she took an interest with. "No. There's a reason why these books are down here, and it's not just because it offended the sensibilities of past Cardinals or argued against official decrees. Some of these things are best left alone. Especially that one."

A part of Rigrit thought her old friend was joking, but experience told her that even ordinary looking items, like a chalice or a book, may hold more danger than a bloodthirsty ogre or a sword. The legendary adventurer tore her attention away from the chained up book and hurried after her friend. After a few moments of weaving through a labyrinth of bookcases, they arrived at their destination.

Thomas gestured to the bottom half of a fully ladened bookcase.

"Here we are, everything we have from that era, unabridged and unedited."

"Fewer than I expected," Rigrit said with a sigh.

"It was a tumultuous time, even after the fall of the Eight Greed Kings. Much was lost, especially thanks to the Bonfire of the Heresies."

Rigrit scowled and silently cursed the overzealous clerics of the past who fanatically attempted to burn away everything relating to those eight infamous figures. Not wanting to let the trip go to waste, the adventurer knelt and studied the spines of the books. Thomas knelt and assisted his friend.

Before long, the two had collected a small stack of noteworthy books from the shelves. Once they were certain they had every bit of relevant material, Thomas led his famous friend to a table and some chairs situated nearby. The elderly librarian placed the lantern and his armful of books on the table. He conjured up a pair of light orbs to provide extra illumination. The adventurer placed her books on the table and began her research. The first book she searched through was a volume about the history of the devastating wars between the Eight Greed Kings and the Dragon Lords of old. Although eccentric, the author, master magician Grischa Thorne, was meticulously organized and provided excellent details of the various battles, the tactics and power used and the overall effect of every action taken. Overall, it was a solid book, albeit long winded. Thanks to the book's composition, Rigrit was able to locate several interesting sections of note. Unfortunately, the information gathered from those sections did little to elucidate on the nature of Guild Weapons. It did, however, provide a name for the infamous sword that once belonged to the Eight Greed Kings. The infamous weapon that was employed by the Eight was also later by the Golden Knight in the war against the Demon Gods.

She tried to pronounce it, but the word came out a jumbled mess. A peculiar name that didn't seem to have originated from any language the adventurer was familiar with. According to a footnote, the name is a close approximation in their language. The actual word was listed, which made Rigrit abandon any attempt at pronouncing it. While interesting, knowing the weapon's name was ultimately useless to the legendary adventurer. Much to Rigrit's further disappointment, there was even less information to be found within the other books.

Rigrit snapped the last book in her pile shut and set it aside with a heavy sigh.

"No luck?" Thomas asked, looking up from his own book.

"Nope," the legendary adventurer grumbled. "There's nothing here that I already didn't know about. How about you?"

"The same. So far the only thing I've gained is an awfully detailed look into the mind of Maximilian the Apostate."

"Who?"

"A Cardinal who went on to become the most promising Pontifex Maximus of his era...before he murdered a dozen young girls and pledged his soul to the Queen of Darkness."

"Charming."

"However, while he didn't strictly mention 'Guild Weapons', Maximilian wrote about his own search for information regarding items that once belonged to Arkuroth."

Rigrit raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Indeed. He claims that the Queen of Darkness had secreted her most powerful and devastating weapons in over a dozen secret crypts all over the continent. Of course, he never found a single one but he claimed that one such trove would allow one to, and I quote, 'transcend the limits of humanity and reach the darkest depths of the abyss.'"

"How ominous."

"Indeed, Maximilian was always one for theatrics. After all, he had a fairly impressive acting career before becoming a cleric."

Rigrit crossed her arms and scowled. "While an interesting piece of historical trivia, this doesn't exactly help me right now. I'm looking for anything on Guild Weapons or anything relating to Yggdrasil!"

Thomas blinked and he set aside the tattered old journal and pulled a different book from his pile and flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

"While not as dramatic or informative, I did find a passage regarding this Yggdrasil that you've mentioned. This is the last remaining copy of Songs of Surshana by Ulrich Atherton. It's a collection of tales and accounts handed down from the Golden Age, when the Six Great Gods walked amongst men."

"What does it say?"

"Not much, but it does mention this Yggdrasil and how the gods seem to have referred to it as a place. Some have postulated that it is the realm of the gods, where they dwell and watch over their followers."

"I know that, but what else?"

"Er, n-nothing else, other than that the gods had lamented leaving their realm for a period and briefly mentioned that it was a place where powerful beings dwelt."

Rigrit sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. When it came to battle and adventuring, the legendary hero was unmatched. But when it came to sifting through mounds of books and information, she didn't have the patience nor the stomach.

"As interesting as that sounds, I'm afraid that's not much help either." Rigrit said finally.

"I'm sorry, Rigrit" Thomas apologized as he set aside his book. "I wish there was more that I can do. Unfortunately, these books are probably the best first hand sources we can get. Anything else has been destroyed, lost or tampered with. The only other possible source of information is probably locked up in the Institute of Research and Experimentation. I doubt that you would want to test your luck against their security."

"I know, and you've done more than enough. Thank you."

Rigrit pondered her next move as Thomas gathered up their books and began returning them back to their bookcase. So far, this research trip has been a bust. She had hoped that the Grand Library would have something, anything, on Guild Weapons and Yggdrasil. With what little she found, the legendary adventurer considered moving on and trying her luck at either the Royal Library in Re-Estize or the Ministry of Magic in Baharuth. But did she have the time? Tsaindorcus had warned her of a dangerous force at work in the world, one that surpassed anything that had come before. Although he didn't give a specific timeframe, Rigrit figured that he needed the information as soon as possible.

The legendary adventurer considered sneaking into the Institute of Research and Experimentation, but gradually decided against it. The Institute was the center of the Theocracy's most recent scientific and magical advances and was perhaps one of the most fortified locations in the world. Even with her skills, Rigrit wasn't too confident of her chances of sneaking in. The Royal Library was a viable option. Maybe Gazef could help her. Ultimately, however, she felt that their collection was sorely lacking the information she needed. Rigrit's thoughts turned toward the Ministry of Magic in Baharuth.

Fluder Paradyne, Rigrit thought with a frown.

She had met the Empire's famous court magician back when he was a young novice. He had hoped to join the Thirteen Heroes, but wasn't strong enough to make the cut. The legendary adventurer tried to let the young man down gently, but it was clear that his rejection from the group stung. Rigrit kept tabs on him over the years and saw him become a powerful magic caster in his own right. Despite the long years since his rejection and his meteoric rise to power, the adventurer knew that Fluder still bore a grudge against her. In everything he did, the court magician strove to surpass Rigrit. Although he may not be so happy to see her, perhaps he'll be more forthcoming when she warns him of the encroaching danger. Perhaps she could even appeal to his pride as a mage.

After Thomas returned the last of the books to their bookcase, he led Rigrit out of the Forbidden Archives. As the two began their ascent up the long, winding staircase to the Grand Library proper, Thomas asked his friend what she planned to do next.

"I'm not sure," Rigrit admitted. "I was hoping to find what I needed here. I might try my luck in Baharuth."

"Hoping to try your luck with Fluder Paradyne?"

"Maybe."

"Oh, he'll absolutely enjoy that visit. I can see it now, him sitting there all high and mighty and you, kneeling and begging for his help."

"I'm not one for begging and I sure as hell won't be kneeling."

"No, but knowing Fluder, he'll do his best to make it so."

"I never realized that he hated me so much."

Thomas shook his head. "He doesn't hate you. He's envious. He missed his only opportunity to be a hero and now wants to make up for it by proving that he's better than you."

"And here I thought that the great Wizard of the Imperial Court was above such pettiness."

"He's still human, after all. Still fallible and vulnerable to the usual shortcomings we mortals face, unlike…"

As they climbed the stairs, Rigrit noticed a pensive look on Thomas's face.

"What is it?," the adventurer asked "You got an idea?"

"It's just...there's probably one person you can go to while you're still here."

"Who?"

"The wizard who calls himself Oz."

Rigrit raised an eyebrow. She had heard scattered rumors about the wizard named Oz, the emerald clad wizard who freely used his magic to aid the poor and needy. While a lovely sounding man, Rigrit's instincts warned her to be wary. Nothing in this world is free, and mages who freely use their magic for the good of others often do so with a hidden agenda.

"Do you really think he can help?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I've heard rumors of how he is able to do just about anything."

"Anything?"

Thomas nodded. "He pretty much eradicated the Green Fever in a matter of days, has restored lost limbs, and even raised the dead. Not as zombies or ghouls, but actually restored the dead to life, just as they were before they died. On top of that, they say he...knows things."

"What kind of things?"

"I don't know but he just seems to know people's thoughts and darkest secrets."

Rigrit tilted her head. She didn't know anything about this Oz fellow and knew that it'd be foolish to just blindly walk in and demand to know everything he knew. However, if he did know something, it'd be worth it to see if he really is all knowing. It'd save her the trouble of traveling all the way to the capitals of either Re-Estize or Baharuth and she'd be able to get a read on this mysterious wizard.

After a few moments of consideration, Rigrit nodded.

"I might just have to see this wizard for myself, see what all the fuss is about."

"Word around the capital is that he's hosting a banquet at his new estate, invitation only. If you're planning to go…"

"Don't worry," Rigrit told her friend with a smile. "I have my ways of getting into places."

"Well, if you do…"

Thomas paused, causing Rigrit to pause as well. The elderly librarian looked his friend in the eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"...Please be careful. Although you tell me not to worry, I just can't help but do so."

"I'll be fine," Rigrit promised the librarian. "I promise. I'm always careful. If anything should happen, I'll run as fast as I can."

"Although there will be some high ranking officials at the party, they worry me the least. The things that people say about Oz...it's unnerving. Please, please be careful."

Rigrit smiled and promised her friend that she'd be careful. However, as the legendary adventurer snuck out of the Grand Library, she couldn't help but feel as though she were being watched. Rigrit paused and looked about. Although she was cloaked by the invisibility magic of a potent amulet that once belonged to the Eight Greed Kings, Rigrit felt as though she was exposed. Silently waiting and scanning her surroundings, the adventurer saw that she was alone in the lush gardens surrounding the palace of marble that was the Grand Library.

The adventurer told herself that she was growing paranoid in her old age, but a part of her didn't truly believe it. A warm and gentle breeze swept through the garden. Rigrit wrapped her cloak around herself tightly and departed in a hurry. She had a party to crash and a wizard to meet.

---

Night had fallen and the party had begun in earnest. Clementine stood at the edge of the crowded ballroom, holding a tray of wine glasses and a bottle of a fine vintage that was worth more money than she has ever seen in her life. All around her, guests from various levels of society circulated and gingerly mingled. From high officials and wealthy businessmen to humble shopkeepers and cobblers, all were dressed in their finest clothes and were abuzz with excitement. All had come to catch a glimpse of their gracious host and the toast of the capital.

The blonde assassin kept her head bowed, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself as she eyed each guest carefully.

Hell of a turn out, Clementine thought to herself.

Most of the guests were unfamiliar to her, but the assassin did recognize the Ministers of War and Finance. The two were distinguished older men with greying hair, though the Minister of War stood out due to his eyepatch and the gruesome scars engraved on his stony face. A veteran of numerous campaigns against fearsome demi-human and beastmen tribes, the supreme commander of the Theocracy's military was an imposing sight.

Elsewhere, Clementine spied a young, red-haired woman speaking with the new captain of the Sunlight Scripture. She never really interacted with the Sunlight Scripture in the past, but was well aware of their reputation when it came to annihilating demi-human targets. Their leader, Captain Nigun, had mysteriously disappeared. The official report was that he and his fellows were killed in action, but from what Gonzalo told her, their bodies were never found. Clementine had heard whispers among the clerics at the Institute that a single magic caster had defeated them. It intrigued her that a single mage could single handedly best a large number of battle-hardened mages and knights. While it seemed impossible, the thought made the assassin recall a certain undead she encountered in a graveyard.

Clementine shook her head.

Focus, she thought to herself. She was here on a mission and there was a narrow window for her to accomplish it. Looking around, lurking along the edges of the crowd and circulating through the house, were various servants and armored guards. Pretty soon, the guests will all be led out to the back lawn. Apparently, Oz wanted to show something off. Once the guests are distracted by whatever nonsense the wizard had in store, Clementine will get to work.

Noticing the stern look she was getting from Margaret the house manager, Clementine decided that it was time to maintain the "loyal servant" facade. The blonde assassin took a deep breath and put on a neutral expression as she waded into the chattering crowd. As she waded through the press of bodies, Clementine caught snippets of various conversations.

"-marvelous, absolutely marvelous!" a man said to his friend "He was able to restore my hand. All the pain is gone!"

"He restored my crops!" a man in a shabby brown suit said excitedly.

"Wonder what he plans to do next?" a cleric wondered aloud.

Clementine kept her head down and offered each guest a wine glass, trying her best not to vomit. It made her sick that these people were so easily taken in by this wizard. Of course what he did was nothing short of marvelous and miraculous. However, it shouldn't mean that these people should place all their faith in him so readily. If anything, they should be exercising caution. A man that powerful doing all these wondrous things for free? Something was definitely wrong with this picture. The number of wine glasses on Clementine's tray dwindled to two, which were claimed by the silver haired captain of the Sunlight Scripture and the pretty redhead.

"...while business is still slow, we're managing a lot better now" the young redhead told the silver-haired captain.

"That's wonderful!" Captain Ian Als Heim said with a smile.

"The benefits of the new and improved Healer's Guild. Lord Oz has really saved us."

Clementine raised an eyebrow. So the captain's special lady friend had received kindness from the wizard as well. Cardinal Lauransan mentioned that Ian Als Heim would be at the party and tasked the assassin with keeping an eye on him. Lately, the head of the Six Scriptures has grown suspicious of everyone and everything. Apparently, he was right to be afraid. Who knows what sort of secrets the wizard had learned from him? Maybe after all this is done, Cardinal Lauransan will let Clementine kill the captain. It's been so long since she last killed something that the assassin feared she was getting rusty.

A shift in the mood of the party came as all eyes turned toward the entrance, where a group of people dressed in emerald and gold arrived. The assassin eyed the group of newcomers warily.

"What are they doing here?" one woman nearby sniffed.

"I don't see how Lord Oz tolerates these lunatics," another woman complained.

Clementine smiled a little. Judging from the general reaction of the party goers, it seems that sanity has not left the Theocracy just yet.

Leading the emerald clad group was a solemn woman with brown hair, who, according to those around Clementine, was revealed to be the widow of Roderich Yeardley, Madelina. The blond assassin watched as the emerald clad widow glided through the ballroom, flanked by her entourage, and cut a path through the crowd.

"She's changed," Captain Ian Als Heim observed.

"After what she's been through, I doubt anyone else would emerge from such a tragedy unchanged," his redheaded companion said. "She lost her husband to a shape changing monster. It was only through Lord Oz's intervention was she saved."

"True, though I didn't think she'd become so...devoted to him."

Clementine eyed the widow suspiciously, even as she settled into a corner of the ballroom with her companions. Judging from the reactions of the party guests and the clothing, it was clear to see that Mrs. Madelina Yeardley was a part of Lord Oz's collection of admirers. Very recently, those who were grateful and devoted to the wizard have begun to become organized. They set themselves apart in not only their dress, but also their attitude. Due to the Slime attack on the Yeardley's home and Oz's fiery speech regarding humanity and its place in the world, this group of emerald cladded citizens have begun to terrorize the streets of the capital. Anyone or anything that seems suspicious and monstrous was scrutinized and attacked. Thankfully, calmer heads prevailed and violence has been kept to a minimum. Unfortunately though, Oz's following has only grown stronger and more widespread. Due to his miraculous abilities and his seeming omniscience, many of his followers revered him. Some have even taken to worshiping him as a god.

Even to a sadistic madwoman like Clementine, this change in people was startling. Common, everyday people with mundane lives transformed overnight into devoted fanatics who will burn and destroy anything they suspect of being a shape changing monster. The Cardinals were right to fear Oz and Clementine might be their only hope of gaining an advantage over him.

"...working here?" the redheaded woman asked Clementine.

The blonde assassin blinked. "Huh?"

"Sorry, I was asking 'What's it like working in Oz's household?'" the redheaded woman smiled.

"G-Good! Good! L-Lord Oz is a great man."

"Indeed," Captain Als Heim said, sipping his wine, "though I suspect it must be difficult with that one lurking around."

Clementine followed the captain's gaze and saw Marten lurking amongst the guests. The pudgy man waddled through the room, nodding and greeting each guest he passed.

"A little..." Clementine admitted.

"I don't see how Oz tolerates the man. The City Watch has received numerous complaints about him and they've brought it up with his lord, but nothing seems to have been done."

"Perhaps Lord Oz is giving him a second chance." the redhead suggested. "He is quite merciful and understanding."

"Hmm," the captain grunted, unconvinced. After taking another sip of wine, the captain looked at Clementine. He frowned.

"Do I know you?"

Tensing up, Clementine shook her head and bowed low. "Nope, I'm just a humble servant. I-If you'll excuse me, I need to fetch more wine."

The blonde assassin left before the silver-haired man could question her further. Although neither of the two had met before, it was likely that he knew her brother. Clementine gripped her tray tightly as she thought of her elder sibling. No matter what she did, she always seemed to remind other people of her oh-so successful elder brother.

As she made her way toward the kitchen, the blonde assassin heard a loud voice speak.

"It is at this time that we ask the ladies and gentlemen of this party to follow us outside. Lord Oz will begin his presentation."

The crowd began to chatter excitedly and move toward the other end of the ballroom, following the servant who spoke out into the back of the mansion. Among the tide of the crowd, Clementine saw Marten standing a few feet away. He stood there like a rock in the middle of a flowing river. His beady eyes gleamed and his face seemed slick with sweat. The blonde assassin shivered. For a moment, the pudgy chamberlain looked less like a sweaty man and more like a starving animal. Clementine turned and pushed her way through the crowd. She slipped out of the ballroom and passed through the kitchen. Fortunately, the kitchen was empty, save for an elderly cook who was too busy tending to the last pieces of the evening's meal to notice her presence.

Clementine ditched her silver serving tray as she went and exited through the backdoor.

The night was cool and still, a welcomed relief from the crowded warmth of the mansion's interior. Ducking behind a nearby row of hedges, Clementine invoked the [Invisibility] spell. While it may not last long as long as she wanted it too, it should last long enough to get the job done.

"[Ability Boost]! [Flow Acceleration], [Pace of the Wind]!" Clementine muttered under her breath.

The assassin's body flashed briefly as she felt a sharp jolt of energy surge through her limbs and her mind growing clear and more focused. Once she was ready, Clementine took off like a bolt loose from a crossbow. Zigzagging through the maze of rose bushes and hedges, the blonde woman raced along one of the numerous paths she memorized during her time in the mansion. This path would help her cut through the sprawling garden, helping her lose any potential pursuers and avoid the crowd of guests gathering nearby.

In a matter of seconds, Clementine reached a group of trees and hedges gathered around a section of the house. This group was huddled beneath the second floor window of the wizard's study. The assassin reached into the pocket of her apron, Clementine withdrew a special glass lense Gonzalo created sometime ago. The glass was supposed to help her uncover any invisible magical defenses. Peering through the glass, Clementine looked up at her target window. Most of the mansion's windows were covered in a web of faintly glowing defensive spells, invisible to the naked eye. The window of the study was no different. But it didn't matter. Clementine was armed with a special dagger that should allow her to cut through those charms like an ordinary kitchen knife through warm butter. One of the perks of working for the Cardinals.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" a voice boomed nearby.

Clementine turned her gaze toward the party goers gathered nearby, who were looking out at a single servant standing alone on the lawn.

"A historical first for all to see! Lord Oz presents to you his newest invention: fireworks!"

At the distant edge of the lawn, far behind the servant, a dozen orbs of light burst from the ground. They arched high in the air above the property and exploded in a shower of colorful lights. The party goers and Clementine jumped, startled by the sudden thunderous explosions and the colorful display. They watched in fascination as more of these "fireworks" rose from the ground and exploded, some changing colors and others forming the likeness of flowers and animals. The crowd clapped for each one. One firework exploded and became an enormous, golden dragon, which came alive with a mighty roar and descended from the sky.

The crowd retreated a little, afraid that it was an actual dragon. However, the dragon burst into a million glittering particles and a familiar figure appeared in its place: Oz.

Clementine watched as the wizard landed on the grass and bowed.

"Thank you! Thank you!" the wizard said to the applauding crowd with a smile. "You're too kind!"

With a flourish, a new wave of fireworks erupted from the ground and illuminated the night once more.

Tearing her attention away from the captivating wizard and the spectacular display that had just occurred, Clementine hastened her infiltration of the study. Drawing the holy dagger, the blond assassin scaled the tree and effortlessly slashed through the hidden wards shielding the window. Wedging the blade in between the small slit between the windows, Clementine lifted the hook holding them together and pushed the windows inward. Inside, the study was black as pitch but that didn't deter the assassin. After making sure there were no more hidden magical surprises, she dived through the opening and quickly closed the windows behind her.

Clementine took a deep breath and searched the interior of the dark study. The interior was illuminated by faint moonlight and the colorful flashes of the fireworks outside. From what she could see, the walls were lined with numerous bookcases, all packed with old and heavy looking books. A large oak desk sat close to the window and looked to be the best possible starting point to search for anything useful.

As the assassin made her way toward the desk, she heard something akin to sloshing liquid in the darkness.

Keeping the holy dagger and her ordinary dagger ready, the assassin assumed a fighting stance. She searched the darkness and saw something moving about beyond the megre light that illuminated the interior.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" Clementine sang with a grin. "Come out, I won't bite too much."

As if invited, a figure emerged from the darkness. It was Marten. At least, it looked like him. In the faint moonlight and shadows, the pudgy chamberlain looked changed. His eyes looked different, darker. Like a doll's eyes. His sweaty face seemed to glisten and looked more like jelly than flesh.

"Marten!" Clementine greeted cheerfully. "Ol' buddy, how are you on this fine evening?"

"Rather well," the pudgy man said softly, his eyes wide and moved up and down her form. "I've been watching you."

"So you have."

"Waiting for you to make your move...when you would be alone."

"And now I am."

Silence filled the room, save for the muffled explosions of the fireworks outside. Clementine remained very still. Although she was confident of her chances against the pudgy man, it'd be foolish of her to underestimate him.

Wait a minute.

The blond assassin blinked, slowly realizing something. She was still invisible. Clementine was well aware of how long her invisibility spell would last and it was nowhere near its completion. If she was still invisible, then how the hell is Marten looking directly at her?

"Now then…" the pudgy man said, breathing heavily. He stepped toward Clementine, his mass jiggling and shifting with each step. "Let's get started...shall we?"

"Of course," Clementine growled, "I've been waiting a long time for this."

The chamberlain lunged at her, arms outstretched like a clumsy bear. Clementine dived aside and rolled away as the man pivoted and gave chase. The assassin rolled onto her feet and leapt again. The sweaty chamberlain chased the assassin around the study, as if it were a comedic scene between two lovers in a play. Although Clementine had no difficulty evading her enemy, she was surprised to see how quick he was for a man of his size and how he showed no sign of slowing down.

As fun as it was, the assassin needed to finish this quickly before Oz and the party guests returned to the house. Landing with a roll, Clementine turned and rushed her opponent using her [Pace of the Wind] Martial Art. The room became a blur as the blonde assassin closed the distance between her and her opponent. Marten's large back was wide open and exposed to her. With a leap, Clementine vaulted over her opponent, slashing his throat wide open as he turned to face her. Not done, the assassin hit the ground, turned and blurred past him, dragging her dagger along and ripped open a sizable wound in his belly. Marten let out a shrill, gurgling sound and tried to grab her, but Clementine was too quick.

Pouring every ounce of energy into her speed, the blonde assassin zipped around the study, slashing, stabbing and hacking away at her larger foe. The chamberlain's clothes became ribbons as huge gashes opened all across his gelatinous flesh. Finally, after slicing his ankles, Clementine watched as Marten collapsed with a heavy thud.

Drained of energy, the assassin ceased her speed barrage. Her muscles ached and her lungs burned. She may have overdone it, but it was well worth it. The fat bastard had been pissing her off since day one and it felt so damn satisfying carving him up like a roast pig.

"Well now…" the assassin breathed, a bead of sweat slid down her brow. "You were certainly a big boy, but I've had bigger."

A soft moan rose from the felled chamberlain, but not much else. Clementine turned her attention to the desk and decided to scour for anything juicy to take back to the Cardinals. As the assassin approached the desk, she heard a soft sloshing sound and saw something move in the dark behind her.

She turned but was suddenly slammed by something solid, lifted off the ground and slammed onto her back on the desk's top. A little dizzy, Clementine shook her head and saw Marten standing over her. The assassin's eyes widened as she saw the gaping wound in his throat sealed itself up.

"Oh my," the pudgy man breathed, a lecherous grin forming on his face. "I've hadn't worked up a sweat like this in a long time. You truly are something special, my darling little Clementine."

"You're too kind~" Clementine replied in a sickly sweet tone. "Can you do me a teensy weensy little favor? Die!"

In a burst of Martial Arts and adrenaline enhanced speed, the assassin sat up and drove both of her daggers into the sides of Marten's head. The blades sunk into his head smoothly, like silk. However, to her horror, the chamberlain seemed unaffected. In fact, he looked excited...aroused even.

"Ooh ho ho ho!" Marten giggled. "I'm afraid it'll take much more than that to do me in. Now then…"

Without warning, the blades began to sink further into Marten's head. Clementine held on to her weapons for dear life, but they slipped from her fingers and vanished into the pudgy man's skull. Once they were gone, Marten pinned Clementine onto the table and leaned in close. An unnaturally long tongue slithered out of his mouth and raked along her cheek. The assassin gagged, his foul breath worse than before. His tongue, cold and sticky, like taffy.

"Mmm…" he purred. "I was right to save you for last. I knew you'd be a tasty morsel. I tried to resist, I really did but you...watching you work, watching you move. You drove me wild!"

Clementine gritted her teeth and felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu. Although her mind reeled with questions as to who or what the hell Marten really was and whether he was always a monster, the blonde assassin forced herself to focus. There was no way in hell she was going to die (again) without a fight.

The blonde assassin scratched and clawed her attacker's hands and face. His skin was soft and smooth, her efforts simply sliding off of the chamberlain, not leaving a mark. She tried harder and faster as Marten began to climb on top of her.

"Now then…" the pudgy chamberlain said, his smile widening until it literally stretched beyond what was humanly possible. "If you don't mind, please continue to struggle. It really adds zest to your overall musk and flavor."

Marten began to lower himself, the moment his body touched hers, a cold sensation swept through Clementine and she looked down. The blonde assassin felt a gasp escape her lips. She watched as Marten began to absorb her. It felt as though she was sinking into quicksand or into a tar pit. In a matter of seconds, her waist and part of her left leg was gone. Clementine struggled and kicked, trying to pull free. However, due to Marten's weight and whatever he was made of, her leg failed to move. It felt as though it was buried in something solid and sticky. A few seconds later, Clementine's other leg was gone and the gelatinous mass that was Marten began to absorb more and more of her.

Oh gods! Clementine thought in horror. Her first death was horrible, but this was infinitely worse. She was being devoured by some kind of monster!

Panic began to set in as Clementine struggled to punch, claw and even bite her foe. Whatever damage she did was absorbed or healed by his sticky, shiny flesh. Little by little, Marten's gelatinous form advanced, working its way toward Clementine's head. Before the monster who called itself Marten could advance very far, a glob of green liquid struck the back of his head, causing it to sizzle and smoke.

Marten let out a shrill scream and pulled away from Clementine, allowing her to pull her legs free. The injured monster lashed out, swiping at his unseen attacker, but hit nothing but air. There was another splash of green and Marten's face began to burn and melt. The chamberlain covered his face and sank to the ground, screeching in anguish.

Clementine looked up and saw, emerging from the shadows, a hooded figure in a brown cloak.

"Thanks," Clementine said, sincerely grateful for the intervention. "Got any more of those…?"

"Acid? Yes, but not that much," the hooded figure said, in an aged female voice.

The stranger tossed Clementine a bottle of dark green liquid. The assassin caught it and uncorked the bottle with her teeth. Splashing the acid on Marten, Clementine felt a sense of satisfaction and enjoyment as the plump creature screamed in pain. Chunks of clothing fell off, followed by blobs of skin and flesh. To the assassin's surprise, the skin and lumps of flesh wriggled and turned a dark purple.

"What the hell?" Clementine murmured.

"Just as I thought," the figure said, "a Slime."

"A Slime? But...Slimes don't assume human form."

"No, they don't."

"Y-You whores!" Marten screamed through his hands.

The plump man looked at them and removed his hands, revealing an angry and radically different looking face. Gone was its plump and cheerful facade. In its place was a burning, saggy face that looked like a horrific, worn out mask parodying a man's face.

"You-You stupid, wretched little whores! Look what you did to my face!"

"Trust me, it looks a hell of a lot better," Clementine remarked.

"Ooh, I am going to digest you slowly," the creature calling itself Marten seethed, "but not before I flay you alive and grind your bones to powder!"

As the creature staggered to its feet, a deep rumble caused the house to rattle.

Clementine, Marten, and the hooded stranger froze as lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating the study in bright light. Seconds later thunder crashed, causing the house to tremble. Outside, the wind began to pick up and the window began to darken, slowly draining the interior of illumination. Clementine's hooded ally conjured up an orb of light as the three of them were plunged into total darkness.

"No, no, no!" Marten screeched, his eyes widened with panic and fear.

In the darkness, distant voices could be heard shouting, and Clementine could hear the clanking of armor and footsteps approaching.

As the sounds of Oz's guards drew near, the creature threw an ugly look at Clementine and her hooded ally. For a moment, Marten's face looked unrecognizable. It looked like a melted and twisted parody of the chamberlain's often cheerful facade.

"Next time, my pretties," the creature hissed as his body bubbled and melted, sinking into the carpeted floor. "I'll have you both soon enough."

In a matter of seconds, Marten's body had dissolved into the floor like a puddle of water and vanished completely. Shortly after, the door to the library burst open and blinding light filled the dark study. Half a dozen emerald armored guards poured in with weapons drawn, alert and ready for a fight. Although the monster was gone, the guards trained their weapons on Clementine and her hooded ally.

Stepping through the opened doorway was a tall, slender woman with snowy hair and a serene expression. Clementine swallowed hard. Although she had despised the older woman, the blond assassin would've preferred that Margaret the House Manager to have arrived. Instead, standing before the two intruders, was none other than Lady Galinda. The lithe and strikingly beautiful woman radiated a cold white light, lending credence to the rumors that she was a powerful mage in her own right. One that had decimated a beastman horde single handedly.

"My, what have we here?" Galinda wondered aloud, her voice was light and musical.

"F-Forgive me, Lady Galinda!" Clementine sputtered, bowing her head. "I-I thought I heard a noise and-and I came to investigate and-and Marten attacked me. Only, it-it wasn't Marten. He-he was a monster!"

Technically true, the blonde assassin did her best to avoid speaking of, let alone thinking about, her true mission. Clementine silently hoped and prayed that the glowing mage would believe her. Unfortunately, Galinda's face was a mask that betrayed nothing. Her sky-blue eyes slid over to the hooded stranger beside Clementine.

"And you?" she asked gently.

"The same," the stranger said, "I...arrived late for the festivities but was allowed in. I heard some sounds and came to investigate and saw this Marten fellow attack this girl. I intervened."

"Hmm," Galinda hummed, nodding slowly.

A few silent and uncomfortable moments passed as the glowing mage stared at the two intruders. Finally, Galinda smiled.

"I believe you..." she said at last.

Clementine felt a surge of hope and relief.

"However, that doesn't explain who you both are and why you're really here. I'm afraid that we'll have to bring this up to Lord Oz."

The blonde assassin's heart sank.

Galinda ordered the soldiers to keep Clementine and her hooded ally in the study while she went to retrieve her husband from the party outside. As the snowy-haired mage left the study, the all consuming shadows that filled the room faded, allowing moonlight to filter in once again.

Clementine wasn't eager to meet the lord of the manor and considered fighting her way out. Unfortunately, her battle with Marten left her winded and unarmed. Besides, judging from the size and armaments of her captors, the assassin doubted that she'd succeed without getting seriously injured. Besides, even if she were victorious against the guards, there was still the matter of Galinda and Oz themselves. With nowhere else to go, Clementine sank into a nearby chair and sighed heavily. This was so not worth it. Her hooded compatriot sat in the chair beside her and lifted her hood. In the light of the magical orb and the moonlight, Clementine got a good look at her rescuer.

The hooded figure was an aged woman with brown skin and silvery hair tied into a long braid. Deep age lines were etched into her face and her eyes twinkled with the energy of a much younger woman. Judging from the pauldron on her left shoulder and the pommel of a sword poking out of her voluminous cloak, Clementine surmised that the old woman was an Adventurer or something. But who would've heard of an elderly Adventurer. It was a hazardous job and she could count on one hand the number of elderly Adventurers that were still active. This caused Clementine to frown and focus on the elderly woman. There was something...familiar about her.

The old woman looked at Clementine and noticed the blonde assassin's stare.

"Is this a staring contest?" the woman asked jokingly. "I gotta warn you, I'm pretty good at those."

"Who are you?" Clementine asked, curious.

"Rigrit Bers Caurau, but my friends call me Rigrit," the old woman answered with a warm smile.

Clementine blinked in shock. Rigrit? As in "Controller of the Dead" Rigrit? As in "Former Leader of the Blue Roses and legendary member of the Thirteen Heroes" Rigrit?

Confusion and questions filled the blonde assassin. She wanted to ask the living legend so much right away, but all that came out of her mouth was a jumbled mess of sounds and words.

"I...how...why...huh?" Clementine sputtered.

Rigrit let out a good humored chuckle. "Slow down. I know you have questions, a lot of people do. All I can really say is that I myself have a question for our current host. A very important question. I just hope he can provide me with some answers. Otherwise…"

Rigrit trailed off, letting the mood of the room change. The legendary adventurer's expression grew serious, causing Clementine to wonder what's got a woman of Rigrit's fame and power so...worried.

…

Time seemed to move slowly as the evening progressed. Rigrit and the blond girl in the maid getup remained in the wizard's study under careful guard by the men in emerald armor. Although Rigrit was confident in her skills, she didn't want to cause any misunderstandings between her and Oz. If she hopes to get any worthwhile information from the wizard, she'll have to play nice and watch her step. Perhaps he'll be more forthcoming after he hears about how she saved his maid from that Slime monster. Although…

Rigrit glanced sideways at the blonde girl, who seemed to be kicking her legs and muttering something under her breath. Judging from the way she acted and from the hard look in her eyes, this girl was certainly not a maid. The fact that she survived so long against a Slime was an indication that she was a seasoned fighter of some sort. An assassin perhaps? Regardless, that was between Oz and the girl. The legendary adventurer made some light talk with the blond and learned that her name was Clementine and that she was relatively new to the manor. Although Rigrit tried to get the girl to open up a bit more, Clementine remained guarded. Possibly due to the recent battle, but more likely to make sure she doesn't accidentally reveal something Rigrit wasn't supposed to know.

Outside, the party proceeded and gradually began to die down. The splendid feast outside had been served, picked clean and cleared away. Guests danced and mingled before eventually withdrawing into the house and shepherded to their carriages, bound for home. The music and laughter faded into soft distant conversations and the scuttling of servants cleaning up.

Eventually, the wizard himself arrived.

Stepping through the open doorway was a tall, lithe man with snow-white hair. He wore an emerald suit with a gold trim. He looked at the two intruders with a curious expression. Without a word, the wizard dismissed the armored guards and closed the study's door behind them.

Once the guards were gone, Oz's shoulders slumped and he let out a relieved sigh.

"Sorry about that," the wizard apologized. "I've been meaning to pull myself away earlier, but Lady Yardley and the others were quite insistent. Now then…"

The wizard crossed over and sat down on the chair behind the desk. He propped himself up by his elbows and waved a hand to Rigrit and the blond.

"What can I do for you?"

"You're not angry?" the blonde asked, slowly and uncertain.

"Why should I be? Yes, you broke into my private study. However, Marten attacked and nearly killed you. In my eyes, it's all evened out."

"Did you know he was a Slime?"

"Yes, though I was certain his...monstrous nature was well under control. Unfortunately, tonight proved otherwise."

"You knew the whole time?" Rigrit asked, surprised.

"Of course I knew. What kind of an idiot would I be if I hired people without knowing everything about them?"

Clementine's mouth tightened into a line and her cheeks grew pale. Rigrit stared at the wizard with a mixture of curiosity and horror. What sort of madman keeps monsters in his employ? In fact, what sort of wizard has that kind of power? Rigrit had heard of a handful of magic casters who tried to bend monsters to their will, including various Beast Tamers, Necromancers and Sorcerers. Most failed, but some had succeeded in capturing and enslaving low level monsters. But a Slime that can take human form? It was unheard of!

"Well?" the wizard asked, looking at Rigrit and then at the blonde maid. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Rigrit said suddenly. "I...I have a question to ask, if you don't mind."

"Of course. I don't mind questions, questions are all part of life and knowledge. Ask away!"

"What do you know of the Eight Greed Kings, of Yggdrasil, and of Guild Weapons?"

The wizard's eyebrows rose. "Oh. That's certainly a question. Here's a question of my own: Why do you ask?"

"Because there's so little information about them. There is...something out there in the world, a grave threat. It's growing powerful and the key to understanding, and hopefully defeating it, lies in the past with the Eight Greed Kings."

Oz nodded slowly and a thoughtful look crossed the blond girl's face.

"I see. But why come to me?"

"Because a friend recommended that I see the 'wonderful wizard who knows everything.'"

A wry smile formed on Oz's lips. "Despite what a lot of people may think, I'm not all knowing."

A few moments of silence passed and the wizard clapped his hands together. "Very well, what do you want to know?"

"Everything," Rigrit said solemnly "Everything about the Eight Greed Kings, Yggdrasil, and Guild Weapons. Anything that could be useful in battle."

Oz nodded. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and seemed to be collecting his thoughts. A few moments later, he opened his eyes and spoke.

"Yggdrasil is the name of a place. The fact that you know this name and the fact that Tier Magic was taught by them to the people of this world, it's safe to conclude that the Eight Greed Kings were from Yggdrasil."

Rigrit nodded. "Many believed this theory, but none were able to confirm it."

"But how do you know about this...Yggdrasil?" Clementine asked.

Oz just smiled. "Because that's where I'm from."

Rigrit and Clementine were taken aback. With one question answered, the legendary adventurer was given a dozen more. Oz was also from Yggdrasil? The same place from which eight infamous monsters originated? How?

"You're from Yggdrasil?" Rigrit found herself asking.

Oz nodded. "Indeed. In fact…"

With a wave of his hand, a heavy black tome flew from a nearby bookshelf and landed on the desk in front of Oz. The wizard opened the book and began flipping through its pages. Rigrit leaned in closer, catching glimpses of sketches of fearsome creatures and inscriptions in a language that was completely foreign to her. Eventually, Oz came to a halt on a page featuring an intricate, sinister looking symbol of a skull and crown.

"...I've been investigating the history of this country and this world," Oz explained, looking up from the book. "I love to learn and there were things about this world that made me curious. I studied a bit about these 'Eight Greed Kings' and I believe I have dealt with them before."

"You? The Eight Greed Kings?" Clementine asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, not exactly 'dealt with,' but I know of them. Where I'm from, they were called Typhon. Named after a terrible legendary beast that fathered many monsters and battled gods for supremacy over the cosmos."

"Sounds grim," Rigrit pointed out.

"Indeed. Their leader was always one for grim imagery and theatrics."

"The Queen of Darkness?" the blond asked.

Oz nodded. "Indeed. Even in Yggdrasil, she was quite...ruthless."

Rigrit nodded. "I see, while the history lesson is much appreciated, what of Guild Weapons?"

"It's as the name implies. It is a weapon created and used by a guild. Typhon was one such guild."

"You mean...there were others?"

"Oh yes, many others. Most were nothing more than roving packs of cutthroats and thieves but some, like Typhon, were forces to be reckoned with. In fact, some were even worse than Typhon."

Rigrit felt her heart skip a beat. Worse? She could hardly stomach the legends of the infamous Eight Greed Kings. The mere suggestion of there being worse groups made the legendary adventurer shiver with fear.

Oz laced his fingers together. "Guild Weapons are the ultimate symbol of a guild; of its image and its overall strength. I have such a weapon, as did others. Obviously, Typhon-er-the Eight Greed Kings had one of their own. You've seen it before, haven't you?"

The wizard's emerald eyes gleamed with a sense of knowing and Rigrit nodded. It wasn't a secret that the legendary weapon that was once the bane of the Dragon Lords was wielded by the leader of the Thirteen Heroes. Stories and rumors abound but nobody save for Rigrit and her comrades were able to confirm it.

"Yes...I saw it. My friend wielded it."

"I see." Oz looked down and flipped a page and showed it to Rigrit. On the page was a detailed inscription of the legendary sword that belonged to the Eight Greed Kings.

"Was this it?"

"Y-Yes. How…?"

"I pride myself on gathering information on my enemies, especially those as dangerous as the Eight Greed Kings. Unfortunately, I never really got the chance to use this information."

The sword was a large, beautiful thing of crystal with an intricate, serpentine demon on the cross-guard, which snaked down the heft and ended at a hideous demonic head with ruby eyes on the pommel. Beautiful, deadly, and gaudy.

"Would've loved to see it in action," Oz sighed wistfully.

"Too bad," Rigrit said sarcastically.

Silence fell on the trio and lingered for a good long while. Eventually, Clementine spoke up.

"So...now what?"

"Now? Now, let us retire for the night. I'm tired and there is much to discuss about Guild Weapons and this rising threat. I believe I can help you and you can help me."

Rigrit raised an eyebrow. The wizard knew something about this mysterious threat that's got Tsaindorcus worried? Interesting. Although she was grateful of the wizard's help and his willingness to share information, something about him unsettled her. She couldn't place it exactly but her instincts warned her to be very careful around this magic caster. Nobody was this open and honest about this type of information, especially in a place like the Slane Theocracy.

"...and you, Miss Clementine," Oz said, directing his gaze to the blonde maid. "You and I will have a long and private conversation about Marten and...other things, later."

The blonde girl swallowed nervously and nodded.

"You're free to stay here, if you like," Oz offered, looking at Rigrit. "I believe I have some rooms available."

Rigrit shook her head. "No, thank you. I already have a room elsewhere. Besides, I have to make a visit to an old acquaintance that I've been meaning to see for so long."

Oz nodded. "Fair enough. Though I have the utmost confidence in the security of this city, I urge caution when going out at night, until Marten is caught."

As Rigrit got up to leave, she spied something scribbled beneath the sketch of the Eight Greed Kings' Guild Weapon. She recalled having seen the word earlier that day.

"That word..." Rigrit said, pointing to the word on the page. "I've seen it once before, in my research. What does it mean?"

Oz looked down at the page and read the word aloud.

"Götterdämmerung. It's the name of the blade. Loosely, it means 'Twilight of the Gods'. I believe it is a reference to an ancient legend from my home, about a prophesied cataclysmic battle that destroys the world and is the grisly end of numerous gods and monsters. As I said, Typhon were known for their grim theatrics."

Rigrit felt a chill run down her spine. A rather bleak name for a weapon. Though, according to the legends involving the blade, it was appropriate. It had been used to slaughter numerous Dragon Lords and creatures that professed themselves to be gods. Thinking of the blade's original owner and her infamous reign of terror, Rigrit was glad that the Queen of Darkness was long gone.

---

The night reeked of death and Sonya was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. The raven-haired vampire picked her way through the mangled corpses and destroyed masonry as she followed her zombie guards and their attendant into the breach in the fortress monastary's defenses.

The Countess held a silk hanky to her nose, having dipped it in a bottle of perfume in order to help her sharp senses cope with the overwhelming amount of death and filth she's encountered during her journey with Manfred. Unfortunately, the Vampire Lord was met with even more death and her perfumed hanky now did little to block out the stench. Blood, charred flesh and excrement mingled together as she stepped over a headless torso and into the courtyard of the fortress.

The courtyard was spacious and sported a quaint old stone well and a solitary apple tree beside it. Behind the collection of buildings and the high defensive walls of the monastery, a dozen towering mountain peaks reached high into the starry night sky. Despite being located on the side of a relatively tall mountain, the alps surrounding the monastery were giant by comparison. Under different circumstances, Sonya would've taken a moment to enjoy the peace and solitude that mountains and monastery offered, maybe even take in the majestic vistas of this little secret corner of the Baharuth Empire. Unfortunately, she wasn't here to sightsee. She was on a mission of her own.

Sonya hiked up her skirt and hurried across the courtyard, trying her best to keep her expensive clothing clean and keep up with her violet cladded guide. Her zombie guards lumbered through, crunching corpses beneath their enormous feet and sending flecks of blood, excrement and mud flying everywhere, much to the Countess's annoyance.

On the opposite side of the courtyard, Sonya and her group entered the monastery proper. The cloister, the barracks and the various corridors were filled with ghouls eating their fill, sating their ravenous hunger. After all, they earned it and it would be unwise to allow so many of the creatures to go hungry. Dozens of higher level undead, mainly vampires, were taking count of their dead and searching for any survivors. Among them, Sonya spied the lanky, straw haired vampire who was so rude to her when she first joined with Manfred and his horde.

Callum, Sonya reminded herself, that was his name. The younger vampire was growling orders to a pair of young looking female vampires who were clad in black robes. The two subordinate vampires nodded and went to their duty. Callum eyed Sonya, who passed him by, and scowled before leaving. He didn't like her and she didn't like him. The Countess made it a point to remember the names and faces of her enemies, which makes disposing of them much more satisfying.

Sonya and her entourage followed the young looking attendant, Mina, deeper into the monastery. Initially, Manfred had planned to seize this fortified mountain stronghold with stealth. However, one of the monastery's defenders somehow managed to catch a glimpse of some of the ghouls climbing up the side of the outer walls and raised the alarm. The garrison was roused from slumber and had managed to barricade the inner wards, which were located in the mountain itself. Sonya and her zombies marched through the shattered remains of those makeshift defenses. Littering the cold stone corridors were the splinters and fragments of barrels, crates and various pieces of wooden furniture.

While it may have slowed down a human army, it did little to impede the undead horde that swept through the monastery like a flood. Among the shattered fortifications were the savaged remains of dozens of monks, clerics and nuns of varying ages. Although she was no stranger to violence and carnage, Sonya couldn't help but feel uneasy at the sheer brutality and excessiveness displayed by Manfred's forces. Among the dead, the Countess spied a few young boys, no older than ten or twelve. Judging from the brown robes and the closely cropped hair, these boys were apprentices. Much like in the Karnassus City-State Alliance, and most other human nations on the Continent for that matter, monasteries like these were customarily the caretakers of lost or unwanted children. Each of these remote places of refuge would take in orphans or unwanted offspring of some noble family, grant them an education and raise them up to be a humble servant of the gods.

That was not the case for this monastery. According to Manfred, this monastery was devoted to battle and violence, as opposed to peace and higher learning. From the scattered castle-forged steel swords being gathered by Manfred's subordinates closeby and the scorch marks left on the walls by the clerics defending their home, it would seem that Manfred's words held some truth. Sonya's eyes scanned the bodies and paused on a small blond boy dressed in tattered and bloodsoaked robes. He held a silver dagger in hand and was lying on his back, on top of a dead nun. It looked as though he tried to protect her, possibly using what little courage he had left before his foe tore through his chest and the elderly woman he tried to help.

Studying the boy's face, an old memory flashed through Sonya's mind. The memory was the image of a humble little church in the countryside, surrounded by well kept fields of grain and an orchard. The tranquil countryside morphed into that of the smiling face of a kind boy, a young child brimming with optimism and ambition. An old joke echoed in her head, followed by his laughter. The vampiric countess closed her eyes, forced the memory out of her thoughts and pressed onward, following Mina and the zombie guards.

Mina, Sonya and the zombies navigated the maze of subterranean corridors that connected the various areas of the monastery. If not for her nose following her beloved's scent and Mina's guidance, the Countess would've gotten horribly lost. Each of the corridors and doors within the monastery were identical. It made sense. After all, this monastery belonged to a sect within the Temple of the Four Great Gods devoted to the extermination of all things unholy and monstrous. They were known for their paranoia and jealously guarding all sorts of nasty secrets. Nestled within the harsh northeastern mountains, the monastery was founded many centuries ago and hewn from granite in order to create a fortified sanctuary to train warriors of the faith. From here and other similar places scattered throughout the Continent, generations of paladins and clerics received their training. Even members of the Temple's secretive Punishment Force were drawn from here as well. After all, not all monsters had fangs or fed upon the blood of the living. The Temple of the Four Great Gods had no shortage of enemies.

Eventually, after descending a long and winding staircase, Sonya and her escorts reached their destination: a pair of tall, thick oak doors that led to the monastery's chapel. According to a vampiric knight who was overseeing corpse collecting efforts, Manfred would be here dealing with the Abbot and the Grandmaster, who had attempted to barricade themselves inside. Standing guard outside were a pair of tall vampires in enchanted silver breastplates and hoods, wielding curved, sickle shaped blades.

Mina turned and curtseyed to Sonya. "He's inside, milady."

"Excellent! You may leave us."

Mina bowed her head low and retreated up the stairs.

Sonya smoothed out her dress and dusted herself off and approached the door. She moved to open it but was stopped by the two vampires.

"Let me pass," Sonya told the guards in a firm voice.

"Forgive me but…" one of the guards spoke, sounding uncertain "But it would be unwise for you to enter at this time."

"Why?"

"Lord Manfred doesn't wish to be disturbed."

Sonya scowled. "Disturbed?"

"Yes, milady." the second guard replied quickly "Lord Manfred's orders."

The Countess bit back a frustrated growl and took a deep breath. "I understand and I commend you for following orders. However, as Lord Manfred's right hand, I am ordering you to let me pass. If you fear punishment, you can place blame on me."

The two guards turned their heads towards each other and, after a few silent moments, stepped aside.

"Thank you," Sonya said with a smile.

With a nod from the Countess, her zombie guards stepped forward and pushed open the doors, allowing warm candlelight and voices to spill out. The inside of the chapel was surprisingly warm, as the rest of the monastery was exposed to the cold mountain air. Sonya ordered her zombies to wait for her at the entrance, not wanting any unexpected visitors to barge in and to also keep an eye on the guards posted outside.

Sonya took a deep breath and approached the vampires gathered around their prisoners at the far side of the chapel.

As Sonya approached Manfred and his comrades, the Countess couldn't help but observe the chapel. It was large enough to accommodate over a hundred occupants. Unlike the lavish cathedrals and churches that Sonya had encountered in the Karnassus City-State Alliance or in Re-Estize, the monastery's chapel was modest. The walls were bare and smoothly carved stone. Pillars lined the sides of the chamber and towered high, holding aloft the vaulted ceiling. The only bit of ornamentation in the chapel were the four statues that stood in alcoves behind the altar, so that all who entered and sat in the pews could see. The Four Great Gods of Mankind, the divine protectors of humanity, looked down in stony silence as the undead trampled through their house of worship.

Before the altar and the statues of the gods was Manfred and his closest lieutenants. Clad in furs and purple robes, the leaders of the undead horde looked more like warrior priests than Vampire Lords. The furs Sonya understood. She chalked it up to the years spent in the harsh climate of the Winter Isles, but she couldn't make sense of the purple robes. It wasn't livery or Manfred's personal colors. But the most troublesome thing about Manfred and his lieutenants wasn't their attire. No, the most troublesome thing was how they behaved.

Although Manfred expressed his love and appreciation for Sonya, her former lover had treated her more like a bothersome guest than a welcomed partner in his crusade. During her time with the undead horde, Manfred spent a majority of that time alone or in council with his officers. The Countess did her best to insert herself into their ranks, but no matter what she did, her attempts were halted or rebuffed. Of course she was an outsider and she was, indeed, not there to assist them in their vague cause, but Sonya had expected some basic courtesies that were often afforded to a vampire of her standing. As she drew near to the group, the Countess received some cold looks from a few of the vampires close to Manfred. She began to privately consider whether or not she should cut her losses and leave sooner rather than later.

When she reached the edge of the assembled group, the Countess saw a pair of elderly human men on their knees before them. One was a large bear of a man dressed in chainmail and a tattered white cloak. His round face was marred by scars and covered by a shaggy beard. From his attire and his battle scars, the man was obviously the Grandmaster of the Knights of the monastery. The other was a severe looking man with steely grey eyes and a hawkish nose, who wore long grey robes, denoting his position as the monastery's Abbot. Both men eyed their captors with disgust and fear.

"...after years of pouring over her writings," Manfred said softly, standing before the two men and looking down at them. "I was able to decipher her clues, which has led us here."

"Good for you," the large scarred man growled. "But I must apologize because you came a long way for nothing. There's nothing here. Now, finish us or just piss off!"

The man spat a glob of blood and spit at Manfred's feet, causing some of the vampires close to him to hiss, but the Vampire Lord simply raised his hand.

Manfred turned his gaze to the Abbot. "I know that it is here, the secret trove. Where is it? I have come so far and have sacrificed so much. I will not be deterred."

"Please, don't do this," the Abbot pleaded in a low voice, "You know not the power locked away in those items!"

"Says the ones who sought to harness its powers for their own use," sneered one of Manfred's lieutenants, a petite female vampire with snowy white hair.

"And we were wrong!" the Abbot shot back. "Our forebears thought they could contend with the power of that awful demon and they failed. We thought we were better and tried to be careful, but we were horribly wrong!"

The hawkish man in grey shuddered. "We thought we could handle that power, that awful wicked power, but…"

"But?" Manfred asked, after the man fell silent.

"B-But it was then we realized," the man said in a breathless voice, all color draining from his face. "Those things belonged to no mere demon! She's far worse! Her power endures, even after all these years. That's why we sealed it away. I beg you…for all our sake, do not seek those items."

Sonya stared at the Abbot for a moment and saw genuine fear in his eyes. Despite being beaten and being on his knees with the threat of a fate worse than death before him, not only was he not giving Manfred what he wanted but he was also begging him to leave whatever it was alone. Either he was really brave or whatever it was the Abbot was protecting was far more dangerous than Manfred, and the Countess was really hoping that it was the former and not the latter.

After a few silent moments, Manfred nodded.

"I believe you," Manfred said, his voice remaining calm and even. "I believe that you believe you have sealed the power of those items away. However, the truth of the matter is that power has already slipped through your defenses."

"What?" The Abbot frowned.

"You are correct. The power of those items and of their creator belonged to no mere demon. It belonged to a goddess. My goddess."

Sonya looked at Manfred in surprise, taken back by his words and by how quickly and severe his voice and expression turned. The Vampire Lord's handsome pale face twisted into an ugly scowl, his body began to glow a dark purple.

"It astonishes me, the arrogance of you…people. You think you can contain such power? Ha! Her dark and terrible majesty can not be bound by the pitiful spells of mere humans. I have seen your sins. I've seen the Dark Cells and your laboratory."

The Abbot was startled by the vampire's change in demeanor as confusion filled his face. However, Manfred turned his attention toward the Grandmaster, who went stiff for a brief instant, fear and surprise flickered across his face before being replaced by a scowl.

"What the hell are you talking about?" the man growled.

"Come now, Grandmaster," the Vampire Lord said, kneeling to meet the man's gaze. "There's no need to be coy anymore. My soldiers have found your experiments. Or what's left of them at least. For a man who swore to exterminate all monsters and publicly denounces the Queen of Darkness, you surely have taken her teachings to heart and created some awful nightmares yourself."

Sonya's eyebrows lifted in surprise. She had heard rumors that the monasteries were involved in some unethical and disturbing experiments but there was hardly anything to substantiate those claims. The Countess watched as Manfred's eyes glowed scarlet.

"Confess," the Vampire Lord commanded, his words laced with hypnotic power.

Sweat slowly beaded up and trickled down the grizzled knight's face as he struggled to resist Manfred's power. After a remarkably lengthy moment, the words began to come loose from his lips.

"I…did…what I…had to…" the man said in a forced, halting way, as if he were trying to hold the words in his mouth but couldn't stop them.

"Good…" Manfred smiled an ugly smile. "Now then…where is the Queen's trove? Although your dutiful Abbot did his best to bury it and keep it sealed, I know you reopened it for your own personal use."

"What have you done?" the Abbot breathed in horror, staring at his comrade with terror.

"I-I had no choice!" the grizzled old knight hissed. "It-she showed me the truth! It was the only way to win against those-those monsters! Everywhere we turn, we are besieged by monsters. No matter what we've done, no matter what we sacrificed or how hard we fought, we are losing! She showed me that the gods have abandoned us and it is only through her might we can succeed and we have once, long ago!"

The Abbot frowned in confusion, but before he could ponder the meaning of the knight's words, Manfred leaned in close to the Grandmaster and stared deeply into his eyes.

"Where. Is. The. Vault?" Manfred demanded in a low voice, his eyes flared red.

The knight's mouth opened and closed. It was apparent he tried to fight Manfred's influence but as sweat began to dribble down his face, the Grandmaster's resolve gradually crumbled.

"...behind the statues," the grizzled knight blurted out. "the scroll…"

The Abbot closed his eyes and lowered his head in shame. Manfred smiled and patted the Grandmaster on the head.

"Good boy."

The Vampire Lord turned to one of his lieutenants and gestured to the two men.

"Toss the knight to the ghouls. Let the Abbot loose. No one is to lay a hand on him."

"What?!" the Grandmaster exclaimed. One of the robed vampires seized the grizzled knight and dragged him off. The old knight screamed and kicked, begging for mercy, but was gone from the chapel in a matter of moments.

Another robed vampire stepped forward and loosed the Abbot from his bindings. As the vampire escorted the confused man out of the chapel, Manfred commanded him.

"Go! Tell all of what you have witnessed and of the power that we now possess. Tell them that Lord Manfred Morgenstern now walks with the power of Arkuroth, the Queen of Darkness!"

The Abbot said nothing but dipped his head, acknowledging what he had heard. Once the man in grey was gone, Manfred's lieutenants moved quickly. They tore the altar from its foundations and hurled it aside in order to clear some space. Once clear, Manfred stepped forward and approached the second statue in the line of four. The statue was of Thyton Sygium, the God of Fire who is believed by the Temple of the Four Great Gods to be the one who endows men with the light of knowledge and fire that drives men to build. The Slane Theocracy would say otherwise, but at this point it doesn't matter. Clutched in the fire god's stone fist was a scroll. Manfred ran his claw like hands along the smooth stone and stopped at the scroll. The Vampire Lord frowned and, with a bit of effort, twisted it until the scroll was perfectly diagonal. A deep click sounded and the statue receded into the alcove. A strong gust of air rushed out of the newly uncovered opening in the wall, causing the candles and torches in the chapel to flicker.

Sonya felt a shiver run through her. For some strange reason, she felt an uneasy feeling in her gut, as if something was telling her that they should've heeded the Abbot's warning.

A smile formed on Manfred's lips. He stretched out a hand and one of his subordinates rushed forward and placed a torch in his expectant palm.

"My lord…" one of the robed vampires breathed in awe.

"Yes, I can feel it." Manfred said softly.

For a long moment, the Vampire Lord gazed into the dark narrow opening, as if he were waiting for something to happen. Finally, Manfred turned his head toward Sony and said, "Come."

"Me?" Sonya said, surprised.

"Yes. It's time for you to see the reason for all this."

At first the Countess was glad to finally be included in something. However, the more she thought about it, the less Sonya liked about this whole thing. Manfred's behavior has been very concerning and apparently his fascination with the Queen of Darkness has taken a more disturbing turn. Besides, who knows what may be waiting for them in the dark! Despite her hesitation, Sonya couldn't afford to back out. From the cold and envious looks on the faces of Manfred's lieutenants, saying no could potentially be fatal.

"Of course," the Countess said with a forced smile, stepping forward.

Looping her arm around Manfred's, the two vampires stepped through the opening and began to descend a long and seemingly endless stairway into endless darkness.

Down the two went, carefully following the jagged, crooked series of steps. Sonya gripped Manfred's arm tightly, trying her best to keep her composure. The walls of the tunnel were rough and uneven, narrowing in some parts and widened in others. The deeper they went, the more uneasy the Countess felt. Despite Manfred's torch and her enhanced sight, Sonya's vision couldn't pierce the endless darkness before them. For a moment, the vampire felt as though she were a human. Perhaps this was the doing of the Queen of Darkness. Legends say that she had ways of instilling fear in her foes.

An awful thought occurred to her. They never found the infamous demon's body. What if she was down here, waiting for them, at the bottom of these steps? No. No, that can't be right. She's dead. The Dragon Lords had seen to it. Despite repeating this fact over and over in her head, Sonya couldn't help but feel fear and dread spread throughout her body. The only thing that's keeping her moving forward was Manfred. Her beloved looked unaffected by the closeness of the tunnel and the dark unknown. Finally, after what felt like hours, the two had reached the end of the stairs.

The stairs deposited them in a large cave, which looked very similar to various caves in which Sonya had hid in during her life as a vampire. The light of the torch filled the cave and the Countess was relieved to see no horrific demon lying in wait. Instead, what greeted them was a treasure trove. Chests and barrels overflowed with gold, silver and copper. Suits of armor stood among the overflow of wealth, glowing faintly in the torchlight. Here and there, Sonya spied jewels and ornate items that were worth small fortunes alone.

"Quite the horde," Sonya observed, kneeling and picking up a coin. "Enough in here to hire a company of Adventurers or Mercenaries. Not that we need them."

"Indeed," Manfred said, stepping into the sea of wealth, ruby eyes scanning the dark. "No. We're not here for mere trinkets. What we seek is far more valuable."

Sonya raised an eyebrow and was going to ask him what he meant but noticed Manfred's eyes locking on something. The Vampire Lord pressed onward, his dirty boots trampling on the overflow of gold and silver. Sonya tossed aside the coin she was inspecting and followed.

On the opposite side of the cave, behind mounds of coins, jewels and finery, was a collection of items that made Sonya pause. Behind the fine silvery armor, the chalices and jewel encrusted wealth, sat items that even the most greedy and desperate merchants wouldn't touch.

"Here we are!" Manfred declared, sounding giddy.

The Countess eyed the Vampire Lord as if he had lost his mind. These…items were horrendous and looked as though they had been abandoned for a reason. Although she wanted to voice her thoughts, Sonya bit her tongue as Manfred placed the torch in a nearby sconce and began to carefully and enthusiastically dig through this collection.

Sonya, not wanting to sit idly by and offend Manfred, decided to take a look as well. Walking among the items, the Countess didn't know which item was the ugliest or the least appealing. Although each one was of curious design, they looked like they were made by someone who didn't know what beauty or elegance was. Or thoroughly despised such concepts.

Despite their designs, Sonya found a few that drew her curiosity. One was an orb of smooth, shiny black glass. It was surprisingly warm to the touch and lightweight. Strangely, the dark depths of the orb were impenetrable, even to her gaze. Another item was an enormous black cauldron. The vampiric countess had seen a few of similar size and make in castles, which were used for massive feasts at harvest festivals. However, what set this cauldron apart from those ones, was the fact that its surface was covered in twisted and screaming human faces. The faces emerged from the cauldron's metallic surface, like people trapped in tar. For a moment, Sonya imagined these faces belonged to people who had been devoured by the cauldron itself. But the item that really caught her eye was a beautiful spiky silver crown with a red gem set into the silvery band. Of all the items in this collection, this was by far the prettiest. Though not as ornate or fine as some crowns she's seen, Sonya couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship. The longer she looked at it, the more she wanted to touch it, to hold it and to put it on her head. She blinked and noticed that her hand was reaching for the crown and withdrew it.

So they're not all junk, Sonya thought to herself.

"At last…" Manfred said breathlessly.

Sonya turned and saw Manfred kneeling and holding something. She went to her beloved and peered over his shoulder. In his hands was a plain looking wooden box, no larger than a bread box. Lifting the lid, the inside of the box was lined with velvet, which held what looked like dozens of small shriveled seeds of putrid green and wine red. Manfred grabbed one and lifted it up closer to the light. At first, Sonya believed that they were shrunken heads but their sizes were far too small. However, regardless of their sizes, each of the shriveled lumps had lines and creases on their surfaces that looked eerily like faces in the shadows.

"What are they?" Sonya asked, unsure of the significance of the seeds.

"These, my love, are what we've been searching for," Manfred said, a grin forced its way onto his face "These, according to the sacred texts, are called 'Fell Seeds.'"

"Fell Seeds?"

"Yes. They may not look like much, but they will help us transcend beyond our current limitations and reach the depths of the abyss."

Sonya lifted a curious eyebrow. Transcend? Abyss? While it sounded fascinating, the wild and excited look in Manfred's eye gave Sonya pause. She definitely needed to inform Drizad of all this.

As Manfred and Sonya basked in his discovery, the Vampire Lord straightened up. His hand went to his ear and his excited expression flickered. Judging from how he was acting, Sonya assumed that he was getting a message via a Magic Scroll. After a few moments, Manfred nodded and his hand left his ear. Excitement returned to his face.

"Good news?" Sonya asked.

"Oh yes," the Vampire Lord said giddily "It seems my scouts have located another item. But not just any item, it is one of the holy arms, a weapon that belonged to the Queen of Darkness herself."

"Where?"

"Arwintar."

Sonya blinked in surprise. "Capital of the Baharuth Empire?"

The Countess's mind began to race. Arwintar would be quite the conquest, filled with all manner of spoils. But even with Manfred's horde of undead, it'd be very difficult. The Imperial Capital was many miles away and very strongly defended, more so than some reclusive monastery and a handful of farming settlements. She had heard of the feats of the Emperor's personal guards and of the Imperial Court Wizard. It'd be suicide to try. Judging from Manfred's expression, he appeared to be already planning to march on the capital in spite of the risks and consequences.

"We can't go," Sonya said, firmly. "I'm sorry, but I must protest. Even with all our forces and these…Fell Seeds, we would be stretched thin and exposing ourselves to unnecessary risks."

"I agree," Manfred said, placing the seed back into the box and closing the lid.

"You do?"

"Of course. I may be a bit mad, but I'm not stupid. Unlike our old comrades, I don't take humans lightly. Which was why I had sent scouts ahead, to gauge our enemies strengths and weaknesses in addition to locating other items of power belonging to Arkuroth."

"O-Oh?"

Manfred smiled "Why so shocked? Did you really think I've lost my mind, like the rest of our so-called friends?"

"No! No, no. It's-it's just…you've been distant lately."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But I have plans for all of us and I've dealt with more than a few betrayals from those closest to me. Please…be patient. All shall be revealed in time."

A sadness filled Manfred's face. It was a sadness that she had rarely seen. Although she was wary of Manfred and his zealous lieutenants, Sonya couldn't help but believe her former lover's conviction.

"So…" Sonya said, after a lengthy silence "What do we do now?"

"Now," Manfred said, tucking the box of Fell Seeds under his arm. "We take everything of value and rejoin our main force at Oxcross. My operatives shall retrieve the item from Arwintar and rejoin us there."

"What of the Emperor?" the Countess's thoughts returned to Arwintar and the dangers it poses. "I doubt he'll stand idly by and allow more of his people to be butchered or allow a powerful item slip through his fingers."

"I'm counting on it," Manfred grinned. "By now, I'm certain he'll see that the Adventurer Teams he had sent to deal with us have failed. His patience will be wearing thin and with the fantastical tale told by our dear Abbot, he and the High Priest of the Temple of the Four Great Gods will be demanding an immediate response. Once the bait has been placed, we'll begin the next phase: closing the trap."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, if all goes as planned, we'll not only deal a crushing blow to the Empire, we will also have our revenge on that little bitch Evileye."

Sonya felt a smile form on her lips. Although she feared for Manfred's sanity and his motives, there was one thing that she will gladly help him with, which was murdering the little girl who brought the Vampire Lords to ruin.

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(a/n: Well, what do you think? Don't worry, we're heading right back to Gareth and Kane in the next chapter. Until next time, see you later!)

(references)

(chapter title): song by Pulp