Biggest thanks for Ace-Triad for fixing my SPAG problems, and Angel Wraith for beta-reading the chapter.

Once again, special thanks to my long time reader/consultant Commissar Gaunt for a lot of suggestions that eventually give birth to this chapter.

As always, I will blabber some more in my end note.

Hands, possessive hands going up and down on Raphtalia's head, going through her hair like slimy, foul liquid. Unlike the warm, fatherly way Master Naofumi used to touch her. It reminded her again, of when she was stuck with her still alive best friend in a dark, wet dungeon. The fact that her new owner has the same family name of the balding man who owned Rifana and herself didn't help her feel any better.

"You haven't touched any of your food, and they are going cold now, babe." Consevatie gives her hair another ruffle while gesturing at the dining table with a gesture of his free, right hand. He breaks a long bread, and takes a bite himself as if demonstrating. "I bet you didn't get to eat a banquet everyday while you were still traveling with the Shield Demon. Enjoy your food, if you want your body to stay strong and healthy."

The young Consevatie doesn't lie, on the line table lined up food fits for a feast. succulent cuts of grilled, or roasted meat. Salad and soups made of the fresh produce from Shiltfreeden. Fresh cut of fruits, and juice from Siltvelt. Delicate breads, cakes, and pastries of Faubley. There's much more variety than what she's used to by Master Naofumi's homely cooking when they simply eat whatever they can get their hands on from foraging and hunting. The materials that make up the cuisine are also undoubtedly finer than what they can find in the wild.

Father wanted her to grow up more like a normal girl, not a spoiled princess who constantly thinks about some unreachable dream like regaining the supposed lost glory of her home nation she was never born into. That's why he allowed her, practically encouraging her friendship with Rifana and Keel. But he also didn't want her to become an unsophisticated fool. That's why he allowed House Kagura to handle her education, like all the Kyutenrou royal family members were originally taught.

She knows the length the young Consevatie went through to treat Firo and herself, having them both practically pampered. And he would not be able to do so if his father wasn't a rich, high ranking noble. Most of the church priests don't eat as lavish a meal Firo and her enjoy, let alone an indentured demi-human servant.

Unlike the older, balding man of his family. The younger Consevatie does want to treat Firo and herself well. Either because he is truly being kind to them, or if he wants something from the two of them. She can't figure out what he has to gain from Firo, or herself. Unless he knew about her Kyutenrou royalty lineage… and IS trying to use it somehow. She can't figure out what he can use it for though.

Interlude 17: Comprehension of the Loyal Slave

Gingerly picking up a piece of bread with crushed berries in them, Raphtalia starts to nibble at her food. The flour is delicately grinded down for a smooth texture, the flavor of the bread is carefully mixed and balanced between butter, sugar, and crushed fruit. Yet, there is something cold and distant in its taste. The baker made it in batches, to be sold for coins in return. Not prepared in the mind to let close family, or friends to enjoy it.

Her body tenses up when she feels Consevatie's fingers run down her back, resting on her waist. "Go on, enjoy yourself. I won't force you to pretend to be a child for sick pleasure like your last master. I'll let you be a proper grown up, all you want to. Like you always wanted to be treated."

Except she did want to stay as a child, with Master Naofumi as her new father, and Big Sister Mein as her new mother. She's not trying to have her parents replaced… but the sense of having a family again makes her feel warm and loved. Young Consevatie's words also reminded her once again just how foreign the adult body she's currently wearing feels. All the sensation, be it physical, or emotion feels enhanced a few times more than her real body. After living with it for about a week, she is starting to get used to this new feeling now, but his words keep reminding that it doesn't feel right. Especially with the nephew of the man who caused the death of her best friend Rifana sitting next to her instead of Master Naofumi, and Big Sister Mein.

"Yes… of course. Master Consevatie. Thank you, for your graciousness." She knows better than defying him. Defying the master means punishment and pain. She might not have cared about it. She might even welcome the embrace of death. It would mean she won't ever see Master Naofumi and Big Sister Mein anymore. But she knows life existed after death when Eclair met the spirit of her ancestor in Silver Keep. Death would mean that she'll see Father, Mother, and Rifana again when she can finally tell them how sorry she is that she wasn't strong enough to protect them. That they died when she lived.

Raphtalia cast a glance at someone sitting on the other side of Consevatie The Younger. Firo is glaring daggers at her while mumbling under her breath. "Slave master's pet… traitor!"

"I love you too, Firo. No need to get jealous of Raphtalia here." Consevatie The Younger laughs at Firo, while ruffling her long hair. Firo slaps his hand away with a snarl. Thankfully, it's not a strike hard enough to trigger the slave punishment mechanic of their seals.

"You need to eat something, Firo." Raphtalia ignores both the attention Consevatie is showing her, or the curses from Firo. She picks up a piece of roasted meat, and puts it on the plate in front of her surrogate little sister. She thinks about it for a short beat, and places a slice of chocolate cake on Firo's plate too. "Don't starve yourself."

Firo looks down into her place and stares at the food. She raises her head to glare at Consevatie, and Raphtalia for one last time before diving her face right into the plate, devouring the food with the gusto of trying to bite someone's head off. And just like before, Firo doesn't stop eating once she starts. Within what feels like a few minutes, she inhales most of the food on the table till there's only some scraps left. Firo pats her stomach for a few times, glares up at Consevatie again as if challenging him to scold her. "There, Firo's done. Anything else you wanted? Master?"

Consevatie laughs at Firo's childish attempt at rebellion. He waves his hand at her. "Good girl, Firo. Run along now. I'm going to talk more with your Big Sister."

Firo stomps her foot on the ground, clearly upset that she didn't get more of a rise from Consevatie with her little tantrum. But she at least learnt the lesson of not trying to physically attack their master from the punishment penalty of her slave seals. She stomps her way out of Consevatie's room, without a care in the world or looking back. Raphtalia wanted to follow after Firo, but knows she can't with Consevatie straight up saying it outloud that he wasn't done with her yet.

She isn't completely clueless. She knows that despite living in pampered luxury, everything can quickly turn into a horrifying nightmare for Firo and herself if Consevatie no longer offers his, and by extension his family's protection over the two of them. And with Firo taking pleasure at trying to rebel at Consevatie at every turn, it's up to her to appease to Consevatie The Younger, so he wouldn't throw them both out.

"Ah. But of course. Raphtalia, babe. Now that the kid has left, we can have a bit of fun little adult time to ourselves." Like a spindly spider, Consevatie's hand slowly crawls its way up the side of her body, till it rests on her shoulder. "How are you enjoying your new life? Much better than how that fuckboy Naofumi treated you, isn't it?"

"Yes. You've taken good care of Firo and myself, Master Consevatie." Raphtalia looks down at her feet as she replies. She has to fight back the sense of vomit to spit out these words. Consevatie's confusing words reminded Raphtalia of her surrogate parents once again. Master Naofumi and Big Sister Mein… are they okay?

She knows that Kyubei and Farkas are dead, but Master Naofumi and Big Sister Mein are still alive, and not captured by the Three Heroes' Church. At least according to the talk around the cathedral, when low ranked acolytes whisper and complain behind her back about the shield demon still at large. They think they are being quiet and discrete, that she won't overhear them, not truly realizing how acute her sense of hearing is, especially after traveling with Master Naofumi. But all she knows about Master Naofumi and Big Sister Mein are that they haven't been captured by the church yet.

"You are thinking about the Shield Hero, and that Slut again. Aren't you?" A vindictive growl from Consevatie brings her mind back to the present. He picks up some of the porcelain plates still on the table, and throws them into the wall to shatter them. "Why are you still thinking about that manipulative bitch, and stupid simp-y boy who doesn't appreciate you? Keeping you around like a pet, and another hired muscle? Have I not treated you and Firo much better than the two of them, using you both for their own gains? Have I not given you the life of a princess, exactly as you deserved?"

Raphtalia feels her breath caught in her throat. How did Consevatie The Youngerer, a Three Heroes Church's knight… captain at most, know about the true identity her family had been hiding all this time? Does this mean the church knew who she was all along? And if the church knows… What about Isshin? Her great granduncle who is supposedly looking for her family to kill off the main Kyutenrou royal family line?

For a brief moment, she begins to genuinely fear for her own life. Thankfully, someone enters Consevatie's room to interrupt his angry tirade, before he has the chance to do whatever he wants with her.

The man that entered into Consevatie's private chamber wears the same uniform as that ranger guy who punched Master Naofumi when they were traveling north. There's also some similarity in their look too. Both him, and that ranger captain have bored looking, dead fish like eyes, slightly curled lips that seem to sneer at everything, and unkempt, rough, short black hair. But the similarity he has with the man who hit Master Naofumi ends when he sets his eyes on her.

The ranger's lips split into an arrogant, amused smirk, something she can't imagine she'd find on the thin face of the one who punched Master Naofumi. He reaches one arm up, hand extended towards her face as he walks closer. "I see you took the Shield Hero's favorite. For a spoiled little shit, you sure work fast."

"Hands off my girl, Bartfort." Consevatie slaps away the hand of the now named Bartfold, his previous smug but soft, smiling eyes sharpen into a glare that rivals Firo's. "Raphtalia is mine. Go get your own."

"Laying down your claim already? Getting a bit insecure about your ownership? Fine." Bartfort snorts at Consevatie, but pulls his hand back as warned. "But I call dibs on the Queen Mother. You know I like my women mature and meaty thicc anyways."

The two of them glare at each other without moving. Just as the silence, and lack of movement began to feel uncomfortable for Raphtalia, Consevatie blinks first. "Why are you interrupting the time I have with Raphtalia? I'd cut off your balls and feed them back to you if you are just here to get touchy-feely with my girl."

"As if someone like you would make good on that threat." Bartfort narrows his eyes and snorts dismissively at Consevatie The Youngerer. He turns around and moves towards the door. "There's a new recruit from the north. Yesold, Lady of House Ebonheart got tired of all the Grade A bullshit of these so-called heroes. If you're not going to have a nice chat with her, I'll have to fill her in myself."

"You should start with that, you little shit." Consevatie stands up from his seat. He turns around and gives a look towards Raphtalia that's probably meant to be apologetic. She simply feels creeped out by his attention as he once again lowers a hand to fondle her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Raphtalia. But business before pleasure, you have to understand. Come with me. We'll be right back, after meeting the newest addition to our comrades."

"As you wish, Master Consevatie." Raphtalia slowly stands up, and follows right behind Consevatie and Bartfort as they leave the Consevatie The Youngerer's private chamber and starts to make their way through the hallway of House Consevatie's capital mansion.

Despite being knight serving the Three Heroes Church, Consevatie is clearly someone who enjoys the finer side of a luxury life. And he chooses to return, and stay in his family manor rather than the much more modest private room he has in the cathedral. And thanks to being his personal servants, Raphtalia and Firo are able to live away from the jealous, scornful gaze of the Three Heroes' Church clerics and only walk among them when Consevatie reports back to the cathedral for his work.

She looks out of the many large windows at the street of Melromarc Castle's golden district. The street is lined up with hastily constructed barricades of wooden crates, barrels and bags in spite of it being the residential area of the rich and nobility. Some trails of smoke still rise from certain manors that have suffered damage from magic, and intense fighting. She was lucky enough to not have to live through the siege Three Heroes' Church has put through some of the noble families that supposedly have tried to 'conspire against the crown'. But she still noticed the damage they caused.

The sound of a large, wooden door opening turns Raphtalia's head, as she sees a servant opening the door in question for Consevatie The Younger. She follows behind the two young men into what's clearly meant to be a meeting, or banquet room. Its size doesn't compare to the ballroom the king used to host his post Wave celebration. But it can still easily fill a dozen people or more comfortably around the large, long wooden table in the middle, while still having enough room for twice the number of people standing around without their shoulders rubbing against each other or pressed against the decorated walls.

Right now, the room is only filled by about half of capacity. Unfortunately for Raphtalia herself, she is immediately greeted by a face she wanted to avoid. It was the same lady, who accused her of stealing jewelry during one of liberation day's celebrations back in Port Harp. Back when she still had her family to go back to.

Aside from the Lady who accused her of theft, there are a number of other faces young and old. Their well tailored clothes reveal them all from the higher echelon of society.

"Hmph! Another dirty raccoon. They are nothing but filthy thieves, and pickpockets. I don't know why you brought one here." The red haired woman turns her nose up, and casts a look of pure contempt at her that's worthy of the most zealous believer of the Three Heroes' faith. It seems like the noble lady didn't recognize her, although that doesn't stop her from voicing her disapproval. "I'm now having second thoughts about throwing my support with you lot, if you feel like bringing a dirty raccoon among us."

"Your worry is entirely unfounded, Lady Yesold. Raphtalia here is…" Consevatie holds his hand up towards Raphtalia to introduce her. Not wanting to directly face Lady Yesold… or anyone else in the gathering for that matter, Raphtalia simply bows her head low in a show of submission. She feels Consevatie's hand, clawing at her shoulder on what might have been intended as a show of support. It makes her want to jump into the ocean instead. "...a former companion of the Shield Hero."

"The fact you brought an accomplice of a rapist in here makes me want to leave this group even more." Raphtalia feels the dagger-like glare of Lady Yesold running through her body. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't leave right now, and find another group to oppose those so-called heroes. Someone who can at least keep a worthy, high class company around them."

"You can't do THAT! Ebonheart!" Raphtalia peeks up from the corner of her eyes, and sees a young lady with platinum blonde hair styled into an overly ornamented bun… or perhaps a crown on her head. Her gold, and jewelry encrusted gown practically sparkles with light. Her panic seems to also reflect the others sitting around the table, at least the younger ones. The few older members simply raise an eyebrow at Yesold's talk of betrayal. "You just joined our coalition, and now you are already thinking about betraying us, and revealing us to other factions?!"

"And pray tell, why could I not leave your group of scheming little backstabbers, Lady Celestine?" Yesold turns to look down at Lady Celestine with a sneer. "I joined you because I heard about the rumor of this group of doers. Someone who planned to resist those vile, oppressive interlopers everyone calls heroes. So far, all I see are a bunch of people sitting around their comfortable chairs, whining, eating treats, and bringing their demi-human whores and boytoys in for pleasure. At least for all Cromwell's blunders so far, he's actually doing something right now to bring that shield rapist to justice!"

"Ladies, ladies! There's no need to fight among ourselves. We do have steps we are going to take to raise up against the so-called heroes and take back our world, of course. And this is also where Raphtalia comes in." Consevatie The Younger sits down together with Bartfort. He points to the empty seat to his right side, beckoning Raphtalia to sit down rather than stand behind him. She walks over, and the chair is pulled back by a servant. "She might have been a demi-human, yes. And she had worked with the Shield Demon before. But there are more to meet the eye for her, and I keep her around for more than simple leverage on the Shield Demon, you see-"

A sudden commotion from the hall suddenly interrupt Consevatie's speech. Raphtalia turns to look at the door, as do everyone else in the room. And they witnessed a priestess, half run, half roll her way into their room and kneel on the floor. The usually immaculate white, gold or crimson decorated robe tattered, and soiled by dirt. "Lord Consevatie, I have failed you!"

"Useless bitch." Raphtalia's more acute hearing picks up a quiet curse coming from Consevatie that wouldn't be heard by the human occupants of the room. Consevatie takes a step forward, and kneels down in front of the priestess to slowly help her up. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Sister Amelia. You look like you went through hell. Tell us what happened."

"I was tasked by Head Confessor Cromwell, to take a contingent of Knight Templars to secure Graile in case the Shield Demon try to escape towards north after he escaped us outside of Gallia city." The bespectacled priestess leans into Consevatie, she fixes her vindictive glare towards Raphtalia as she slowly rises up with the young lord. "And I was also doing my duty, pacifying any element that dared to rebel against us, while gathering a force to fight against the army of the Siltvelt animals if they decided to invade us."

"And you somehow fucked it up pacifying an already pacified city, even with a contingent of knight templars as your muscle." Bartfort pushes his chair back. He rests his feet on top of the table against other people's distasteful gaze, and begins to pick some nuts off the platters sitting on the table, throwing them into his mouth. "Just as expected from a pampered rich girl born into one of this country's top noble families."

"It was the fault of the Shield DEMON! And his blasted fire witch whore! I had the entire city under my thumb, and they turned the city against me!" Sister Amelia whips her head around to glare at Bartfort next, as she looks ready to lunge herself at the arrogant young man.

"Excuses, excuses. That's all you pampered 'highborn nobles' do. Whining and bitching about the little things when they don't go your way, because you had everything else too easy." Bartfort puts his feet down from the table, and pats his hands off the dust he got from eating nuts. "Or were you just pretending the whole damsel in distress act to get into Consevatie's pants? You sure aren't pulling off the rich woman fishing for a pretty, young boytoy like your cousin."

"ARGH! Don't you dare talk about HER!" This time, Sister Amelia did run straight at Bartfort, looking like she's about to claw his eye out. He simply turns sideways, and puts a foot in front of her path to trip her over and have her eat the floor.

"Incompetent, and stupid! No wonder your family didn't want you around." Bartfort sneers back at the shaking form of Sister Amelia still lying on the ground. He sits back down in his chair afterwards.

"Don't let Leon get to you, Sister Amelia. This arrogant little shit pick fights with everyone he sees." Consevatie throws a warning glare towards Bartfort, who simply rolls his eyes and look away nonchalantly. The young lord walks over and helps sister Amelia up from the floor once again. "Now, tell us what happened when the Shield Demon showed up. How did he push you out of Graile?"

"We had Graile completely under our control! The heretics from the Three Heroes' Church who refused to cooperate with us were pacified! The commander of the fortress gave the key to the city to us, and let us recruit an army for the upcoming war! But then…" Sister Amelia takes a long breath, almost as if she's recollecting herself from her memory. "The blasted Shield Demon showed up, and his pet fire witch whore revealed she was the first princess and turned the city garrison against us!"

Raphtalia can't stop herself from leaning back into her chair, as if someone punched her right in the face. Big Sister Mein… was a princess? Granted, she shouldn't be that surprised, since she is also technically a princess. But surely, Big Sister Mein didn't lose her nation, and had to run and hide away from assassins? Just what is going on here?

Looking around the table, most other occupants are also in various states of confusion or shock at this revelation. Lady Celestine in particular is shuffling her feet alongside the carpet, looking like she wants to get out of this room despite chastising Lady Yesold earlier for threatening to do the same. "A royal princess is with the Shield Hero? We would be committing treason, not taking our nation back from dimensional interlopers. I didn't sign up for this!"

"Please excuse Sister Amelia, ladies and gents." Consevatie turns around, placing one hand on Amelia's shoulder. Raphtalia can't tell if it's meant to comfort her, or to warn her. But from the way she grimaces, it looks [like the latter] lateral. "She's clearly still shaken up from her ordeal in Graile, and meant to say the Shield Demon's pet slut pretended to be the first princess. It's not an easy experience to have an entire city turn up against you, I'm sure. Am I right? Sister Amelia?"

"Yes, of course. Lord Consevatie. Thank you for your understanding." The priestess quickly nods her head along, clearly meant to recover from her earlier blunder. Although it does make Raphtalia wonder, did she simply make a mistake with her wording, or did she leak the truth by accident?

What does that mean for Big Sister Mein? Was she lying to everyone all this time? What for?

"So, one of your subordinates messed up. She had the rapist interloper sneak around right under her eyes, and threw her out of a city she had full control over." Lady Yesold's comment brings Raphtalia's mind back to the present once again. She gives an accusing glare towards Bartfort. "Why did you bring me to meet this group of idiots again? It seems like they can't even run a city, let alone take a nation back."

"Resources. You don't have to be a hero to be a hero killer, like Emperor Gerald II and Queen Henrietta shown when they killed the Seven False Heroes for good. But they had multiple generations of previous kings and queens building up the power of their nations before taken the false heroes out. And there are still a number of these 'nobles' supporting the so-called Heroes for their titles, or the instawin loot they have. Which is another issue. Those idiot simps are nothing without their OP weapons, but since they do have it…" Bartfort kicks his chair back once again, as he gives another scornful scoff, not aimed at anyone in particular this time. "If you want to try and overthrow them without a busted instakill RNGesus weapon of your own or the resources to fight a nation, please, go ahead and tell me how it goes for you after you end up in front of a guillotine."

"Relax, my ladies and lords. This is a minor setback, of course. And we did gain some valuable information with this minor issue. While what happened in Graile is unfortunate, Sister Amelia did find out where the Shield Demon was hiding at the time. It means we can be better prepared… even lay a trap of our own against him." While Lady Yesold and Bartfort are having their conversation, Consevatie The Younger is speaking on top of his voice trying to reassure his gathered cronies doesn't start to lose faith and abandon whatever plan he is having.

"Smartest thing that came out of your trap since I met you. But are you smart enough to actually do it?" Bartfort once again turns towards Consevatie, interrupting his speech. "Your pet priestess failed spectacularly in Graile when all the simple hero had was the element of surprise. You can't even clothe yourself without two or three demi-human slave girls helping you dress up."

"And what are you getting at, Bartfort?" Consevatie crosses his arm in front of his chest, looking down at the other young lord. "Need I remind you how to properly act towards your betters, since your parents clearly failed at their jobs educating you? You are the youngest son of a baron, while I am the firstborn son of Marquis Consevatie, the lord of your father."

"And everyone knew your father landed his job licking the Queen's boots. She didn't trust Duke Velthomar because he was betrothed to her elder sister, who got her stupid ass killed in The Great War. How do you think your dear old daddy, a Marquis, got to be the Lord Paramount for one of the two northern provinces, when one can't throw a cat without hitting a Duke in the north?" Bartfort stands up again from his seat, as he walks over to look at Consevatie at eye level. "You, and your cronies are doing nothing but wasting everyone's time, and resources. It's about time someone competent will take over this operation."

"And you think that's yourself. Someone who had no experience other than leading small adventure parties crawling through dungeons and monster nests in the north, or commanding a small squad of rangers. Did you even have proper leadership, and tactics class growing up? Oh, silly me, your father's too dirt poor to arrange them for you." Consevatie sneers right into Bartfort's face as he brushes away the young ranger's critique. A smirk slowly appears above his mouth as he uncurls his arm and opens them to the side. As if inviting Bartfort into a hug. "Tell you what. Have it your way. Trial by combat free for all, the winner gets to lead our group. This way, nobody can accuse me of taking the lead because of my father's position. I'll even let you swing first. Take your best shot."

Bartfort narrows his eyes at Consevatie and stares at his opponent as Sister Amelia slowly backs away from them. Then without warning, he knees Consevatie right in the groin, making the eyes of the young lord bulge out of their sockets. With a lightning fast one two punch, he hits Consevatie again in the chest, and nose, dropping the son of Marquis Consevatie on the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"BAD FORM!" Sister Amelia immediately jumps up and down, nearly tripping herself on her tattered robe as she points a finger at Bartfort. She looks ready to jump at Bartfort once again, but looks hesitant considering what happened last time. "You jumped Lord Consevatie, and you fought like a hooligan, with your dirty tricks!"

"So what? You think anyone else is going to care how they win a fight? That rich daddy's boy will never survive the northern wild without his daddy's coin purse." Bartfort turns away from Sister Amelia with a smirk. He turns around, and sets his eyes on Raphtalia now and reaches his hand towards her again, making her shrink further down into her chair. "Now, where was I?"

Raphtalia's body begins to shake, but not because of Bartfort's hand moving closer and closer towards her face. No, without the young man realizing it, Consevatie slowly crawls back up from the ground where he lay… and suddenly strikes Bartfort right in the back of his head, making him crash into the side of the table and fall on the ground. The young Consevatie looms over Bartfort's twitching form, yanks the young ranger up with a handful of his hair. "What did I tell you, about not touching my girl?!"

"What the HEL- '' Bartfort's surprised exclamation is interrupted, when Consevatie's fist collides with his nose, resulting in an audible crack.

"What that surprised look, Bartfort? You think you are going up against some rich boy loser, only to face off against a GOD?" Consevatie sneers down at Bartfort, as he punches the young ranger again, making Bartfort's eye swollen up this time. Another punch from Consevatie, this time making the young ranger spill blood and a broken teeth out of his mouth.

"What do you think this is!? A wish fulfilling story written just for your narcissistic fantasy!?"

Punch.

"Where the world is all fucked up for you to fix, to justify you being a smug little shit!?"

Punch.

"Where all your opponents are incompetent idiot clowns, to make you look smart by comparison!?"

Punch.

"Where all the pretty women open their legs for you, and allow you to pick and choose at your leisure?"

Punch.

"TOO BAD! This… is MY STORY!"

Bartfort is tossed onto the floor. Among his coughing and gurgling, Consevatie leans down and stares at the broken young man with his arrogant smirk. "As for you… you are no different than the rest of these NPCs."

"Cho-Choke on it, you rich pussy." Bartfort shoots Consevatie one last defiant glare, before Consevatie knocks him out with a kick to the groin. Nobody in the room, not even the servant, tried to take Bartfort away for treatment. Consevatie's intention to make an example out of the rebellious ranger, and the underlying threat was clear to everyone.

"YES! You won, Lord Consevatie! I knew you wouldn't let that dirtbag little shit beat you!" Sister Amelia quickly runs over to Consevatie's side, and tries to put her arms around Consevatie's arm. But he dodges her attempt by waving his hand at Raphtalia, beckoning her to get closer. In spite her own wishes, Raphtalia stands up from her seat and walk over to Consevatie's side while doing her best to ignore the smoldering look Sister Amelia is sending her. Consevatie The Younger grips her hand with enough force to shatter it, if she isn't in her adult form.

"How did you get up after Bartfort knocked you out?" Lady Yesold moves her eyes away from the person who invited her into their group. "I don't know Bartfort that well, but his exploits in the north aren't some tall tales. He's one of the few young men around his age who can steal griffon eggs from the griffon kingdom for the guild, or the nobles. So I know he is no level 1 amateur when it comes to combat. You shouldn't be able to move at all. Not after some intensive healing with magic, or potions after what Bartfort did to you."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Lady Yesold. As much as that little shit is full of himself, he can pack a serious punch. Too bad for him, I have something even better." Consevatie moves his empty hand forward, holding it in the air as if he's grabbing at something. And then, particles of white light start to appear in his hand, making Raphtalia, and the rest of the gathering look away or shield their eyes. After the light show, a scabbard appeared in Consevatie's hand.

The scabbard is mostly golden in color, or perhaps it is actually made in gold. Deep blue lines cross near the opening where one would insert the blade, and further diagonal down, crossing once again near the tip. Raphtalia can't help but feel there's something familiar with the design, something she had a short glance during the education she had with House Kagura which feels like a lifetime ago to her now. That's when Sister Amelia's gasp interrupts her thoughts. "It, it can't be? Is this what I think it is? Lord Consevatie?"

"Avalon The Everdistant Utopia. The artifact belonged to the hero king Artoria P Albion, when she founded the kingdom of Albion and became lost after her death. It was used once again by Artoria Arc in the wave from sixty years ago when she accompanied Lord Shirou Emiya, the Martyr of Bow." Lady Celestine's shocked eyes slowly looks up from the scabbard to the face of Consevatie. "It's said to be an artifact with a mind of its own just like a hero weapon that only appears in the hand of the worthy… no. Even rarer than a hero's weapon. It's said to grant invincibility to the wielder."

"And it was just sitting in the middle of a pile of trash, in His Eminence's' private chamber." Consevatie snorts as he waves away the scabbard, making it disappear in another shower of light. "For all the talk of him being a great hero, he's nothing more than an idiot! He had this magical artifact passed down to him from the last Bow Hero, and he just left it in his own room."

"Hmmm… interesting implication, if Shirou Emiya passed down Avalon The Everdistant Utopia to Pope Balmus from the start." Lady Yesold narrows her eyes and nods her head along. "The exploit he achieved back during The Great War. Especially when he cut a path right through Siltvelt's army besieging New Albion to save Lord Wales. Perhaps he only managed to do so, because he had this artifact that makes him unkillable? Have we been worshiping a false idol all this time, when it's the artifact that made him special?"

"Of course, it's the artifact that made the old loser special! That's why he had us scourge through the land collecting for previous shards of hero weapons. He's trying to make a weapon that'll grant him even more power than these so-called heroes have, to have people worship him as a new god. But the old sap is nothing without some super powered weapon." Consevatie's smirk grows even wider as he shakes his finger.

"Wouldn't he bring the scabbard with him to the Third Wave then?" Raphtalia didn't stop her mouth from speaking her own mind this time, and she instantly felt her chest tighten. Not so much as if her entire body is being burnt, like when she's whipped by salt water soaked leather whips by some of her previous owners. But still enough to stop her from speaking up.

"The old fart clearly underestimated how severe the Third Wave was going to be. As expected, from a stupid old sap like him." Consevatie simply shrug his shoulders as he continue to look around the people gathered around the table, most of the members of his group look down or away when he focus on them. "He may be a useless idiot, but he at least had the right idea. We need something even greater than the Heroes if we are to rally people to our cause. It's time to give the people of this land a new GOD to worship now. And I got what's needed right in me to throw these cheat weapons using losers right into the sewer. Forget about the heroes. It's time for the people of Melromarc to bow before their God."

"All hail Lord Siegmar Isaac Octavia Consevatie! The God who will cast down the false heroes, and their heretic supporters!" Sister Amelia cheers behind Consevatie The Younger, making him laugh like a maniac while Raphtalia feels like she's been submerged in freezing water.

Consevatie The Younger had creeped Raphtalia ever since he held her new slave seal, but now she realizes he is something much worse than a slave owner. Even worse than his own uncle that caused Rifana's death. Because the young man is mad. He honestly seems to believe that he is god, and everything in the world exists to serve him.

And even worse. This mad man is the one who is holding the slave seal of Firo, and herself. Something that will torture them if they dare to take one step out of some arbitrary line he draws himself, and will kill them if they defy him too much, or tries to run away.

"Ri-Right! You know I have been as loyal to our cause as I was faithful to my lord husband, right?" Lady Celestine looks around, and becomes the first to proclaim her loyalty among the many.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We'll talk about god making, and rallying the people of this nation after we actually cast down the rapist, false heroes." By contrast, Lady Yesold doesn't look fully convinced as she casts another quick look at the broken body of Bartfort.

"Yes, yes, of course! I'm in no hurry to have you declare fealty to me and bend your knees. Sit on it, go have a nap to clear your mind if you need it." Consevatie waves his hand at the gathered nobles once again, clearly indicating their gathering is now officially over. "Just remember, I WILL remember those who stay loyal, and those who try to betray me. Also, someone takes this lump of meat out of my sight. He's an eyesore, and he's stinking up my manor."

The nobles stand up from their seats, and exit the room without saying anything. A pair of servants enters the room, and wordlessly picks up the unconscious form of Bartfort and takes him out after everyone. Sister Amelia looks like she wants to put her arms around Consevatie once again, when he holds his hand up and stops her. "Amelia. You should go and clean yourself up, and change yourself to a new set of clothes. Make yourself presentable, you know?"

"AH! Yes, of course my lord! I will leave you… and the dirty raccoon… for now." With one last piercing glare from Sister Amelia, she too leaves the room as the servant closes the door behind him, leaving Raphtalia alone with the madman.

"Well. Raphtalia, babe. Now that all the distractions have been cleared, we can go back to some alone time between you and me." Consevatie places his hand possessively on her shoulder once again. He slowly moves her around, till she's forced to look him in the eyes. "I see you are still fighting against the idea of embracing me as your new master."

You are mad.

That's what Raphtalia wanted to say to the nephew of her previous owner, who caused the death of her best friend. But she can't do it. She doesn't care about forfeiting her own life, but she has Firo to take care of.

She was alive, thanks to the members of House Kagura who threw themselves into the wave creatures to save her family. And thanks to Father and Mother, who pushed her into the sea when the Wavespawn caught up to them. She's saved from her despair, and given a new life thanks to Master Naofumi, and Big Sister Mein. Now they are not here, it's her duty as Firo's Big Sister to keep Firo alive. She already failed her best friend, and she can't fail her little sister too.

"Raphtalia, Raphtalia… I know you are loyal. But why do you still cling onto a false idea?" Consevatie moves his hand, tracing her shoulder, up her neck, and begins to play with her hair between his fingers. His face leans closer, till Raphtalia can clearly feel his breath on her. "Do you still think the simp-y shield boy, and Slut will come and take you back? Let me tell you a little secret. Sister Amelia was speaking the truth. The red haired bitch in the Shield Hero's party. She truly is the first princess of this country. And she cares about no one but herself. She's even plotting to kill her little sister. Because all this time… she's been lying to and playing everyone. Well… everyone who is a stupid NPC, or a braindead simp. Because she's trying to ride the coattails of a hero to become the next queen."

Raphtalia doesn't understand some of the words coming out of Consevatie's mouth, just like Master Naofumi's ramble when he gets fixated on something. But she perfectly understood what Consevatie The Younger is saying about Big Sister Mein. And a small, traitorous voice in the back of her mind begins to whisper to her that what he said about Big Sister Mein is true. That would explain why she was left behind, especially after her real identity of being the royal family of Kyutenrou was discovered.

But then, she remembered what Big Sister Mein was really like in their travels. If she truly didn't care about anyone else, Big Sister Mein could have left her to die in the cavern of Lute's abandoned mine. And Big Sister Mein pushed herself near death again, and again during their time together, against different foes.

No. Consevatie The Younger might be speaking some truth, like Big Sister Mein's real identity. But he is clearly lying with other things. With one last, small moment show of defiance for Consevatie besmirching her surrogate mother's good name, Raphtalia turns her head away from looking at him.

"I see you still fight against the truth: That neither the simp-y shield boy, or Slut ever cared about you. No matter. You are just another character in a story after all, but I'll be patient… and break you free from the mind of a NPC. You have to live up to being my other half, after all. And I… won't force you against your will, till you are ready." Consevatie's face slowly move away from Raphtalia. But his finger slowly trails down from her hair, from her collar bone down her chest till the tip of his finger rests on where her new slavery seal sits over her heart. "I don't have to. After all, I hold our 'sign of trust'."

With his parting words, Consevatie turns around and leaves the room himself. Leaving Raphtalia along as she slowly falls to her knees, and lying on the floor. Her tears slowly drenched the fine, yellow trimmed purple carpet. "I was wrong… I was wrong…"

End Note:

Not going to lie. I wanted to get to the point of this chapter for a pretty long time, and for more than one reason. So I was rubbing my hands in glee as I wrote it.

Raphtalia and Firo is having a fun time as they re-adjust their lives in slavery. And Raphtalia finally gets her harsh reality check to remind herself that no, slavery is in fact, NOT a good thing.

Also, I finally gets to show why Consevatie is such an arrogant clown when I have been mostly trying to give depth to the most of the one-note canon RotSH characters (Mald notwithstanding). And I actually had the initial of His full name spell it out: Siegmar Isaac Octavia Consevatie. Yes, while within the story he is a modern incarnate who know about how RotSH is 'supposed' to go, in the metanarrative sense he is an allegory for (usually the author's) SIOC characters in fanfiction, particularly the smug kind who think everyone in canon are idiot NPCs for them to play around with. I'm honestly surprised nobody commented on it, maybe it's because I don't use his full name enough.

Because I'm consistently surprised at how lacking self-awareness writers of hack variety who write this kind of fanfiction. On how they don't realize what annoying little shit they make their own SIOC character look. So yeah, when SIOC (I can finally use his intended name, at least in author's note now without worry about spoilers, hurray) give Leon Bartfort his 'the reason you suck speech', he doesn't even realize how it fits himself just as well.

Guest review time.

To Halo:

Well... not all fanatics of 3HC are at the 'False Hero must die!' phase yet. As one of the reasons Ren and Motoyasu were able to get away from them in the interlude chapter is because they are trying to force them into standing down and simply hand over Iris and Bertia, not going full power murder mode on them from the beginning.

Although yes, there are plenty of the most zealous are already in the 'kill the false heroes!' mode, as this interlude chapter shown.