Blue

by Silenta-Atestanto

The history of our world is a simple one. An Overlord emerges to terrorize mankind, before a Hero rises up to slay him. So the cycle went, until it was broken when a succubus claimed the mantle, seduced the Hero sent to slay her, and created the stalemate we recognize today. But history is rarely ever so straightforward. I should know. I saw the events that would unfold for myself.

14. Chapter 14: Zoyin

Chapter 14: Zoyin

Abel rose early the following morning. After thoroughly inspecting his armor and his sword, he set out for the Mage's Guild. He didn't eat anything for breakfast- with his stomach as tightly clenched as it was, he wasn't confident he could keep anything down. Abel had good reason to be nervous: since beginning his travels, he'd lost far more one-on-one battles than he'd won. And more than a few of those victories happened only because he'd had help. But there would be no outside help this time. No last moment reprieve. Abel would stand, or fall, on nothing but his own strength.

The Mage's Guild came into view. A modestly-sized crowd had gathered at the fence surrounding the building- presumably, spectators hoping to watch the duel. However, the crowd wasn't as large as Abel expected, and there were very few black-uniformed Guild members amongst them. "I was expecting a bigger crowd," Holly said.

"Well, the challenge was at short notice," Lailah replied. "I guess there wasn't enough time for word to spread."

"Maybe…" Seth said sullenly. "Or it could be that people think they already know who'll win."

Raine was silent. But… Raine wasn't with them. Apparently, she'd gone out late the night before, and hadn't returned. Abel wasn't worried she'd gotten into trouble- the witch could handle herself- but her presence… the presence of all his companions was comforting. And the absence of her levity was palpable, making the seriousness of his situation all the more grave.

Abel peered through the bars of the gate. Sure enough, the black-haired secretary was waiting on the path to the guildhall, facing the gate with her arms crossed. A strange feeling crept into Abel's stomach, as if it were being squeezed by an icy hand. He jolted slightly when a hand was placed on his shoulder- when he looked, he was not surprised to see that it was Lailah who reached out to him. "You can do this, Abel," she said gently.

Abel nodded silently before opening the gate. The priestess's words did little to dispel the ill feelings in his stomach, but it was much too late to back down now.

The secretary tilted her head slightly as Abel neared. "Already trying to cheat, are we?" she asked.

That took Abel by surprise. But then Niel emerged. The angel didn't say anything, but looked at the secretary with an odd expression for several moments before flitting to Lailah and the others. Had… Niel been planning to help him? He wasn't sure if he should have felt relieved, or insulted by the angel's lack of faith in him.

"Some would commend you for coming, calling it bravery," Laura continued. "But I see it for what it is. Like so many other degenerate males, you hope bravado will compensate for your lack of any other redeeming qualities."

The nervousness instantly vanished as an intense heat flared in Abel's chest, the wings of light erupteing from his back. He didn't bother drawing his sword, instead calling a sword of light directly to his hand. Glaring, he said, "I hope you brought more than just insults."

"I do have one suggestion." Laura adjusted her glasses, but didn't remove them. "Come at me as though you truly mean to kill me. If you give no less than your full strength… well, you won't win , but you might make things mildly entertaining."

It took more restraint than Abel expected to keep from launching himself at the secretary. It was obvious she was trying to bait him, to create an opening she could exploit by making him lose his composure. He had to remain calm. If he didn't-

"There's only one way this will end, you know," Laura then said. "No matter how you try to delay it. This day will end with you broken and humiliated, and your friends seeing you for the worthless whelp you are."

In spite of himself, what little restraint Abel had snapped like a rope under a heavy load. He launched himself at Laura, sword drawn back. There was no technique to his swing- only a single-minded desire to silence the annoyance standing before him.

In practically no time at all, Abel had closed the distance. But as he struck, the secretary leaned back, below the arc of Abel's swing. "Wha-" He swung again, vertically this time, but again, she evaded him, sidestepping the blade with less than a finger's width of space to spare. Then, she wheeled around, striking him in the side with her leg.

Abel stumbled, pushing himself back and beyond Laura's range. She was fast. A lot faster than he expected for a mage. She didn't blink in and out of existence as Julia and Charlotte had, but she was far more agile than an ordinary person should have been. Was she a Hero's descendant? Or was she using some sort of magic to enhance her physical abilities?

Abel rushed forward, and swung his sword again. Laura dodged his swing, and fell back, beyond his reach. But that was exactly what he hoped she would do, and he thrust his free hand toward her. "Angel Fire!"

But she simply held up her own hand- the white flames flowed past her, as if flowing around a barrier that Abel couldn't see. He rushed forward as the flames died down- Laura moved her hand as if to catch the blade, but Abel's sword suddenly bounced back just before striking her, as if it had hit an invisible wall. He swung at her again from the opposite side, but again, she moved her hand as if to catch the blade, only for his sword to be deflected again, as if it had struck an invisible shield. He swung at her, faster and faster, certain that he could slip past her barrier, but every time, she deflected his blows. Then, he noticed Laura was saying… something. He understood her words, but they didn't make any sense:

"Scarlet flames of Phlegethon, I call upon thee; Drown my foe in your majestic conflagration until not even ashes remain!" Then, Laura crouched, slamming her palm against the ground. "Pyroclasm!"

The ground beneath Abel's feet began to glow. Then, a pillar of flame erupted around him. Abel cried out as the flames washed over him. He couldn't move, he couldn't escape, he couldn't even breathe as the flames washed over him, feeling as if a thousand serrated blades were cutting into his flesh all at once. Through the pain he tried to focus- his wings flared, pushing him forward and out of the pillar of flame. But though he escaped the flames, the burning didn't stop. He lay on the ground, feeling as if some wild beast had savaged him with his claws.

It hurt. Everything hurt. He'd been stabbed and left for dead, and even that didn't hurt as much as he did right now. But even so, he pushed himself up, feeling as though his skin was cracking apart like a coat of thin paint, and placed a hand on his chest, concentrating, trying to call the image of Lailah's smile to his mind.

Between his pained breaths, Abel heard Laura say to him, "I must say, degenerate, I had absolutely no expectations for you, and yet somehow, you still managed to disappoint." He glanced up at the secretary. Through the haze of pain, he saw a gleeful expression on her face, an expression he'd seen a hundred times before. In Zechariah. In all the other boys of his village. Before he knew it, he pointed a finger at the secretary. He didn't speak the words, but with a mere thought, a bolt of lightning shot from his fingertip.

But as before, the secretary held out her hand- the lightning bolt seemed to rebound off an invisible barrier, striking the ground nearby and causing an explosion of ash and dust. "Oh? Still have some fight left in you, I see." Laura kicked Abel, flipping him onto his back- pain surged through his ribs where she struck, before she stomped on Abel's chest, aiming her palm down at him. "Let's fix that, shall we?"

But at that moment, a figure clad in silver armor appeared between Abel and the secretary. It was Lailah, spear in hand, holding its point just over Laura's throat. "That's enough."

But Laura didn't back down. Instead, she tilted her head as she looked Lailah up and down. She was… smiling. "Oh? And what might your name be?"

"There are other things about me you should be concerned with," Lailah replied coldly, moving her spearpoint closer to the secretary's throat.

But Laura showed no fear, reaching out to stroke Lailah's face- the priestess recoiled from her touch. "Your beauty is wasted on a degenerate like him. In fact…" She suddenly gripped Lailah's wrist, and looked down at Abel. "I'll be taking her."

"What- let go of me!" Lailah said, pulling back her arm. But she was unable to break the secretary's grip.

"Duels require that something of equal value be offered by both parties," Laura replied. "The degenerate named his terms, but Madame President never named hers . As both her representative and secretary, I have the authority to make that decision on her behalf." She looked down at Abel. "And now that you've lost, you have no right to refuse."

With a firm pull, Lailah wrenched herself from the secretary's grasp. "I'm not going anywhere with you," she said firmly.

Laura tilted her head, eyes narrowing at the priestess. "Are you sure about that?"

Lailah didn't answer, merely giving the secretary an icy glare.

Laura tilted her head the other way. "...I see. Perhaps this will change your mind." She held out a hand in Abel's direction. "Air Pressure."

All at once, Abel collapsed as an invisible force pressed him against the ground. Pain surged through his entire body, and he cried out in spite of himself, as the force seemed to squeeze the very air from his lungs. He tried to focus, his wings flickering to life, but they were unable to lift him against the crushing force.

Without a moment of hesitation, Lailah reared back and thrust her spear at the secretary. But Laura darted to the side, kicking Lailah's spear hard enough to knock it aside. She grabbed Lailah's wrist again, twisting it upwards and driving the priestess to her knees at the same time, planting a foot on Lailah's shoulder to hold her down. The spear slipped from Lailah's hand with a clatter, but she swung her free arm in wild arcs to strike at the secretary, but she'd positioned herself just beyond the priestess's reach. All the while, she kept one hand aimed at Abel, pinning him to the ground with her spell.

"You will return with me to Madame President," Laura said coldly. "Whether or not you'll have to step over that degenerate male's corpse on the way is entirely up to you. But your compliance in this matter is not optional."

Abel strained. His back burned, as if his wings had been replaced with two jets of fire. Slowly, with every nerve screaming at him to stop, he began to rise. "I… won't… let… you… take her!"

The secretary looked to Abel, unimpressed. "You need to learn when you've been beaten, degenerate." She flexed her hand, and the weight on Abel suddenly increased, the paved stone underfoot cracking from the pressure. He sank to one knee. Then the other. But he refused to go down. Straining, he tried to raise his arm, to use one last spell on his opponent…

Until Lailah's voice rang out. "Enough! I'll go with you! Just… let Abel go."

"Lailah?" Abel faltered, his face driven into the ground.

Laura released Lailah. At the same time, the pressure on Abel was suddenly lifted. Abel tumbled onto his side- it felt as if all his strength was sapped away, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't rise. "So, your name is Lailah," the secretary said.

Abel tried to rise. He put one arm out, then the other, but they refused to carry his weight. As he tried, and failed, to stand, he asked, "Lailah, what are you doing!?"

Lailah's head was down. She wouldn't look at him. "I'm sorry, Abel. But, you're a Hero. Your life is too valuable to be wasted here. On someone like me."

Abel couldn't believe his ears. How could she say that? She'd given him so much, without even realizing it. He owed her a debt that he could never repay. He couldn't just give up on her. Not here. Not ever.

Laura turned away, toward the guild. "Come with me, Lailah," she said. "You'll be forgetting about that degenerate male soon enough." She began walking away. Lailah finally looked at Abel. She had a deep, and sorrowful look on her face.

"I'm sorry…" she said, before following in the secretary's footsteps.

A brief moment of clarity came to Abel. He laid a hand on his chest and tried to concentrate, but it was no good. Lailah's smile simply wouldn't come into his mind. All he could envision… was the pained expression on her face, just before following Laura. But that didn't stop him. Reaching his hand out, he dragged himself over the ground to follow after her. Pain surged through him, as if he were dragging himself over a field of broken glass.

A metallic squeak filled the air, and Abel was surrounded by people. His vision was beginning to blur, and he couldn't make out who they were. "Abel!" Seth's voice shouted. "Abel, can you hear me!?"

"I can't believe he's still conscious," Niel's voice added. Then she said, "We have to get him back to the inn. Bard, carry him."

One of the figures faced the guildhall, standing motionless and silent- that one must have been Fiann.

"Bard, I'm no happier than you are," the angel added, "but we don't start treating Abel's wounds, he might die!"

That spurred Fiann into action, and she picked up Abel in her arms. But Abel screamed, trying to break out of her grasp. She was trying to help him, he knew that, but when she touched him… it was like being burned all over again. But he didn't fight against Fiann because of the pain. "Let… go of me! " This wasn't over. So long she had Lailah, it would never be over.

But then, a tiny figure fluttered into Abel's view. "I'm sorry, Abel," she said, before pointing her finger at him. "Now, Sleep." A purple light flashed at her fingertip.

Then… there was only darkness.

---

Claire sighed as she read one of the many documents piled on her desk. Laura may have been fighting a duel on her behalf, but her secretary's absence didn't pause her workload. In fact, she'd nearly forgotten the mind-numbing tedium of overseeing the Guild's day-to-day minutiae. Frankly, she had no idea how Laura put up with it. But even so, she had full faith in her secretary's abilities. So, it came as no surprise when her office door swung open, and Laura stepped inside, without so much as her clothes mussed.

"Excellent work, Laura," Claire said as she looked up from her desk. "I never doubted-" She stopped abruptly when another woman, blonde and clad in silver armor, stepped into the room behind her. "…What is this?"

"I took the liberty of claiming a prize on your behalf, Madame President," the secretary replied. "This is Lailah, one of the degenerate's companions."

"'On my behalf?'" Claire sighed, slowly rising to her feet. "You claimed her for yourself and we both know it. You know I had my eye on the redhead." She circled around the desk to get a better look. Disdain for blondes aside, the president couldn't fault Laura's choice- the girl had a nice face, and her skin looked very soft. Claire couldn't wait to see for herself what secrets the blonde was hiding under that armor of hers.

"So… 'Lailah,' was it?" Claire asked, slowly reaching toward Lailah's face. "Where are you from? I'd wager, northern Ermis. Goethe, perhaps? Or maybe-"

But Lailah suddenly slapped the president's hand away. "Don't touch me."

Claire looked down at her hand, surprised… but only for a moment. "Come now. There's no need to be frightened." Again, she reached for Lailah's face. "Everyone gets nervous the first time around. But I promise you, you'll enjoy it much more than you think you will. And before long, the time you spent with that degenerate will be nothing more than a distant-"

But Lailah grabbed the president's wrist, holding it in a crushing grip. "I said, don't touch me." For a brief instant, the priestess's eyes blazed with a red light, and her pupil narrowed into a slit barely wider than a hair.

As soon as Lailah released Claire's wrist, the president stumbled back, falling against her desk as she touched her forehead. In an instant, Laura was at her side. "Claire? Are you alright?"

"I'm… fine," the president replied after a few breaths. "Just… a bit light-headed." Claire had no way of knowing, but that was a side-effect of what Lailah had just done. Her words hadn't merely been a statement, but a magically-empowered directive, now implanted in the minds of all who had heard it- and no matter how they might try, they would be unable to defy it.

Sure enough, after collecting herself, Claire reached toward Lailah for a third time, only to stop herself, as if remembering something. "Actually… this can wait," she said. "We have a long day ahead of us, and we shouldn't let ourselves get distracted. Laura, do you have somewhere safe we can keep her?"

"As you wish, Madame President. As for our guest… I have a few places in mind." The secretary also began to reach toward Lailah, but as Claire had, she stopped herself. "Come, Lailah. We shouldn't distract Claire from her work."

In silence, Lailah followed the secretary. She had no intention of playing out this charade any longer than necessary. The only reason things had gone this far was because the secretary had threatened Abel directly. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she'd make her escape and return to his side.

Three times now. In spite of her vow, it seemed circumstances were conspiring to force her hand in every situation. She couldn't deny the usefulness of her powers, but… things would be so much simpler if she didn't have them at all. She couldn't give into the temptation if the opportunity was never there to begin with.

That's why she agreed to travel with Abel, though she would never confess it to him.

If she helped him, then perhaps, the gods would grant her wish.

---

As soon as Abel awoke, he tried to sit up. But, his body wouldn't cooperate. His arms, his fingers, his chest… everything felt incredibly stiff. As if his skin was a piece of leather pulled too tightly over his bones.

His struggles didn't go unnoticed. "Hey- Abel!" Holly said. "You shouldn't be trying to move yet!" She put her hands on Abel's shoulders, and tried to hold him down, but he easily overcame the weak pressure the mercenary placed on him, and with some difficulty, sat himself upright.

He was back at the inn. The room was arranged differently than his own, so it must have belonged to one of the others. Holly was on the right side of his bed, backing away to give him space. Seth was crouched over a small box full of glass phials on the opposite side- medicine, he assumed. Fiann sat in the far corner of the room, a scraping sound ringing out every few seconds as she sharpened her axe with a small, flat stone.

Seth must have noticed he'd awoken, because she looked back, and said. "You're finally awake. How are you feeling?"

He didn't answer.

The thief set the vials aside to give Abel her full attention. She asked, face full of worry, "Abel?"

It took a few moments for Abel to find his voice. "I… I'm alright," he finally said in a weak voice. "Just… a little numb right now."

Seth breathed a sigh of relief and backed away. "The apothecary said that was normal," the thief replied. "It shouldn't last more than an hour."

Abel wasn't referring to physical numbness, however. He felt as though there were a hole in his chest- an emptiness so great that had he been able to lift the collar of his shirt and look at himself, he half-expected to find an actual hole. And it wasn't just within- Abel couldn't help but feel a certain hollowness from outside- a certain priestess-shaped hole in his world.

'Where's… Raine?" he asked. Abel wasn't sure how long he'd been out for, but it seemed strange that the witch still hadn't come back yet. Surely, hearing that he was hurt would have been enough.

"She's still missing," Holly replied. "Niel went to go look for her, but-"

The door suddenly burst open. It was Raine, breathing heavily- her whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat, hair hanging freely, clothes out of sorts, as if she'd dressed herself in a hurry before coming. "Blue!" The witch hurried to the side of the bed. "Oh god… oh god, I'm so sorry about this!"

"Raine?" Seth began. "Where have you been this whole time?"

But the witch completely ignored the question. "This is my fault, Blue," she said. "I should have known the president wouldn't fight for herself. If I knew she'd be throwing her secretary at you, I would've thought up something else."

"I found her passed out in a tavern by the city's north gate," Niel said, as she fluttered into the room. "Apparently, she'd been up all night harassing travelers about the best routes to cross Eridania Plains."

Again, Raine ignored the commentary as she focused her gaze intensely on Abel. "Listen, I know you're worried about the Sister, but don't be," she said. "She can handle herself. But we need to think up a new plan."

"A plan? For what?" Holly asked.

"Isn't it obvious, Jugs? We're helping Blue get his girlfriend back!"

"I think we could all do with a bit less of your plans for a while…" Niel said.

Then, the door swung open again. A familiar black-haired woman, dressed in a black skirt and jacket with red-and-white trim entered. Fiann instantly shot to her feet, axe ready. Raine pointed the palm of her right hand at the secretary, while Niel pointed her finger, white light shining from the tip. Seth tensed. Even Holly tried to pull Abel towards her, as if to shield him, but only ended up pulling herself closer. "I suppose I brought that on myself…" Raine muttered.

Despite the open display of hostility, Laura was unshaken. "Awake already, I see," she said, attention fixed on Abel. "It seems you have a Hero's resilience, if nothing else."

"What do you want?" Seth snapped. "It wasn't enough just to win? You have to come gloat about it as well?"

The secretary ignored Seth's comment entirely. "I'm light of recent events, Madame President has taken time to reconsider your request."

Raine scoffed. "Oh. How generous." Her tone made it clear she didn't believe Laura's words in the slightest. "Now what's the catch?"

"In return for passage to Caral Marsh, the… Hero, must surrender all of his female companions to Madame President's custody."

"What?" Holly said, stunned.

"And Madame President made it very clear she means all of your companions," Laura continued. "The angel included."

"How thoughtful of her," Seth replied coldly. "But we're perfectly capable of making decisions for ourselves. No deal."

The secretary adjusted her glasses, glaring fiercely at Abel. "If the Hero wants to go get himself killed, he's more than welcome to. The world would only benefit from having one less degenerate male tainting it with his presence. But Miss Claire cannot in good conscience allow him to endanger all of your lives by forcing you to accompany him."

Fiann scrawled something in her journal before showing her message, printed in sharp, angry letters, to the secretary: [I have a proposal of my own. Your president will allow Abel to travel on his way, or I kill you where you stand and send you back to her in pieces.] She quickly added, [Starting with your lying tongue.]

Abel's mouth fell open on seeing her words. But before he could say anything, the secretary said in an icy voice, "I don't suffer threats lightly, Brighidine. You're certainly welcome to try and make good on your proposal, but I assure you, you won't live long enough to regret your words." She then adjusted her glasses as her attention shifted back to Abel. "Madame President has named her terms. You are welcome to return to the Guild to surrender your companions at any time." Laura then turned on her heel, and left the room.

Several moments passed. Then, Raine relaxed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Who the hell does that president think she is?" she said aloud. "Making demands when she didn't even fight for herself…"

Abel had been silent throughout the secretary's visit. And his silence persisted as he slowly, and stiffly, climbed out of bed.

"Hey, where are you going?" Seth demanded.

Raine wheeled around. "Blue, you aren't seriously thinking about giving in to the president's demands, are you?"

"I…" Abel said slowly. "…I'm going to talk to the archbishop. I want to know what someone from the Church thinks I should do."

Raine still seemed tense. "Is that right?" she said. "Parrot, you're going with him. We don't need Blue making any impulsive decisions."

"I don't take orders from you, Raynare." Nevertheless, the angel flew to Abel, disappearing into his body.

"Alright, go do what you need to," Raine said. "But, don't make us come looking for you, alright?"

Wordlessly, Abel nodded, before hobbling out of the room. Outside, he began to follow the pull of his amulet as it led him to Sister Irina. But very quickly, he noticed something peculiar. He wasn't being led to the cathedral. Rather, the amulet was leading him to the center of town. Specifically, to a building very different from the ones around it. It was tall and square, built from sand-colored stone, and draped with numerous pink banners, but curiously had no windows. "What's that?" Abel asked.

Niel took several moments to reply, and her tone made it clear that she answered with the utmost reluctance. "That… is a Temple of Eros."

"Eros… is that another god like Bacchus?"

After another brief silence, Niel replied, "Yes, she is. Specifically, the god of love, beauty, and…" Her next word came out in a nearly-inaudible mumble. "… sexuality. " She then quickly said, "Anyway, listen carefully, Abel. There's a very good reason why I wanted you to stay away from places like these. I'm not sure what business the archbishop has here, but whatever it is, we shouldn't stay any longer than we need to. Nothing good ever comes from getting involved with Eros's affairs."

Abel nodded silently. As an angel, Niel would have far more experience dealing with the gods than him. And if she told him to steer clear of Eros, he would obey. So, after being looked over by a stern-looking man guarding the temple's entrance, he was allowed to enter. Beyond was an extravagant room, filled with fine furniture and more pink banners. His attention was quickly drawn when a woman called out, "Over here, sir!" Abel looked, and…

…oh god.

"Welcome to the Temple of Eros, handsome. How can I help you?"

"Uh…" Standing behind a desk across from the front door was a woman with short pink hair. A very, very voluptuous, and very under-dressed woman with short pink hair. Her clothes were just… a bunch of strips of cloth, hanging so loosely from her frame that it seemed the slightest movement would cause them to fall off, yet somehow, they didn't. Abel had no idea where to look- he couldn't look her in the eye, but everywhere else…

The woman must have noticed him staring, because she leaned forward with a knowing smile, as if to give him a better viewing angle. "First time visiting?" she asked. "No need to be so nervous, dear. Everyone was a virgin at some point in their lives, as much as they might try to pretend they weren't. So… looking to hire our in-house talent, or were you already meeting up with someone?"

Abel was transfixed. The way her chest swayed with even the slightest movement… Wait, did she just ask him something? He hadn't been listening. He quickly stammered, "Uh, I-I was… here to… meet… someone?"

The pink-haired woman seemed to frown slightly. "Oh. Well, if they're already here, they'll be waiting in the lounge. Just head down the hallway on the left.

Abel breathed a sigh of relief as he scurried down the hall, the pink-haired woman safely out of sight, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to pay heed to the growing sound of drumbeats. He'd never really put much thought into… women's… bodies, but-

When Abel turned the corner at the end of the hall and entered the room beyond, if his jaw could have dropped any lower, it would have detached entirely. The lounge was dominated by a large circular stage in the center, speared by a metal pole that stretched down all the way from the ceiling. A pale woman clung to the pole, sliding down like a slithering snake, to the approving roar of the audience gathered around the stage. A few of the lounge's occupants, however, paid the woman on the stage no mind, chatting with men and women just as scantily clad as the woman at the front desk, or drinking at a bar on Abel's right. On the left side of the room, two large shirtless men pounded a series of drums to a steady beat. Dozens of red lanterns hung from the ceiling, illuminating the lounge in an eerie light.

Abel stood paralyzed. What kind of place was this? And as if she could hear his thoughts, Niel said, "I warned you, didn't I?"

Abel shook his head vigorously. He couldn't let himself get distracted. The archbishop was here… somewhere. He just… had to find her. Taking a few tentative steps into the lounge, he scanned the room, trying to keep his eyes from lingering on the very large amounts of exposed skin. The air had a strange, heady scent- it wasn't wine, but it made his thoughts hazy all the same. As he passed, he overheard a few comments: "Never seen him around before. Think he's a new applicant?" "Maybe. A little foreign talent might bring up our earnings." "A bit skinny for my tastes…" "How 'bout that one?" "No way. It's obvious he's a first timer, and you know I don't do virgins. If you want him, he's all yours…"

Then, Niel said, "Abel, look up at the stage." Despite the angel's insistence, Abel was reluctant to look too closely. The woman spinning on the pole wore something resembling the robes of the Church's priestesses… though much tighter, cut much shorter, and made of some shiny black fabric that reflected the faint light. The outfit made her feel familiar to Abel in some odd way… but it wasn't until he saw her face that he understood why.

Abel didn't need his amulet to tell him the woman on stage was Irina.

Interrupting the archbishop's… performance seemed like a bad idea. So he found an empty seat so he could wait for her to finish, trying not to watch too closely. A few of the scantily-clad people approached, but when he didn't respond, they lost interest and moved on. Eventually, the drumbeats came to an end, and Irina was sprawled across the stage to another roar of approval. A new performer took the stage as she climbed down, making her way to the bar. Once she was seated at a stool, Abel approached. She must have known someone was coming, because she said, "How many times do we have to tell you the dancers are off-limits!?" She began to turn. "Bother me again, and-" She abruptly cut off on seeing Abel. Clearly she'd been expecting someone else. "What… what are you doing here?"

Niel emerged, fluttering in front of Abel. "I could ask you the same thing. Aren't you supposed to be a priestess of Ilias?"

The priestess glowered at Niel. "You of all people should know that we humans have our vices. Some gamble. Others drink. Me… well, I dance on a stage in front of a crowd of horny men and women for money."

"Why, though?" Abel truly couldn't comprehend it. Maybe it was in his past, or something in his being, but he couldn't stand the thought of catching the attention of so many people, much less by doing… what Irina had.

Irina drained her glass before turning to face Abel fully. "Has there ever been something you wanted that someone wouldn't let you have? Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to be the one on the other end of that? Well, let's just say, I don't have to wonder. I must admit, there's a certain thrill to it." She crossed one leg over the other. "Plus entertainers get rounds at the bar for half-price. But, I get the feeling you didn't come to lecture me about my side work."

"I… was hoping for some advice," he said reluctantly. "But if you're busy…"

"I think I know what this is about. And I can make time." Irina stood, grabbing his forearm. "Come with me."

Irina led Abel away from the lounge and back to the front desk. The pink-haired woman seemed surprised. "Iri- uh, Morgan ?" Her eyes then fell on Abel. "Wait, this is who you were meeting?"

"Got any rooms free, Becca? Just got picked up for a private show." Morgan? Abel wondered. But then again, it probably wasn't a good idea for an archbishop to be hanging around the temple of another god using her real name. Especially one like this.

The pink-haired woman eyed Abel with suspicion. "…Well now. Aren't you a lucky devil" She then dropped a key on the counter. "You'll be in room eight this time. And how long-"

Irina slipped the key in her hand and began walking away, down a hallway opposite the one leading to the lounge. "Won't need more than an hour. Just add it to my tab for tonight." After staring dumbly for a moment, Abel hurried to follow her. Unlike the hallway leading to the lounge, this hallway was lined with numbered doors. And the room beyond the door marked "8" was similar to the room you might find at an inn… but at the same time was very, very different. The bed was much bigger for one, and looked quite a bit softer too. There was another pole, like on the stage in the lounge, some kind of wooden four-legged stand, and… a washbasin? Abel's curiosity was momentarily stoked, but considering what he'd seen so far, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what these things were used for.

Irina sat down on the bed, crossing one leg over the other. "Word is, you dueled the president's secretary. You lost. And, she took one of your companions for herself. Does that about sum it up?"

Abel sat in a chair facing the bed, in front of a short table with a wine bottle and a few glasses resting on it. "You don't sound very surprised," Niel said after emerging again.

"You aren't the first to challenge Madame President to a duel. Or to have to face Miss Laura. She fought ten of the strongest mages in the chapter back when Claire was appointed as president, and beat every last one with barely a scratch. You weren't going to beat her, Hero or not." She leaned forward. "But I'll admit, taking trophies is new."

That wasn't comforting news in the slightest.

"That's not all." Niel added. "The secretary stopped by earlier to deliver a message. Apparently, Madame President is willing to parley. She'll allow Abel to travel to Caral Marsh, but only if he surrenders all of his companions to her. Myself included." She fluttered over to a wine bottle resting on the table between Abel and Irina, struggling to open it.

Irina picked up the bottle, and removed the cork, pouring the wine into two glasses. After taking a drink for herself, she asked Abel, "So. Are you going to take the president's offer?"

Abel hung his head. "…I might not have a choice. If I challenge her to another duel, she'll just have her secretary beat me again, and she'll probably take another of my friends. I don't want that… but, I have to go to Caral Marsh if I want to finish my mission from Bacchus. There's no getting around it."

"I won't sit here and say that your mission isn't important…" Irina replied. "But is it so important that you'll risk losing your allies to accomplish it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You certainly could give into the President's demand and turn over your companions." Irina downed the rest of her wine. "But nothing guarantees the president would keep her word. You would've given up your friends with nothing to show for it."

Irina poured herself more wine, before downing it in a single gulp. "And imagine how that decision would appear from your companions' perspective. You would be sacrificing them to spare yourself from further humiliation, for your own benefit. And if you could do so once… what would stop you from doing it again, in more dire circumstances?"

Irina poured herself yet another glass of wine- now her third. "Trust is like a glass window: it's difficult to create, but very easy to break. And even if you gather up all the pieces and try to fix it, it will never be what it was before it was broken."

Abel jumped to his feet. "Then what should I do? Either I give up my friends, or I fight, lose, and have them taken away from me anyway . What kind of choice is that? "

Irina set her glass aside, giving Abel her full attention. "...I can't tell you what the right choice is. I don't know the answer to that. And in any case, you're perfectly capable of making decisions for yourself. If you do give in, I won't hold it against you. Most Champions never reach the Overlord, and if your journey ends here, that may well be better for everyone involved. But I will say this: situations like these… to be presented with seemingly impossible choices, to be pitted against insurmountable foes… they aren't just the trials of a Hero. Everything that lives faces those struggles. And if our resolve crumbled every time we were challenged…"

Irina trailed off. It sounded like someone was rushing up the hall, before the door suddenly burst open. "Blue, you're not gonna-" Raine began, only to instantly stop on seeing Abel and Irina. "What… is going on here?"

"Just a private consultation. Nothing more," Irina said firmly. "We were just finishing up." She stood. "I trust you can see yourself out." The archbishop then left the room without so much as a glance in Abel's direction.

Raine's gaze followed Irina for a moment, before snapping back to Abel. Her brow was furrowed, and she was frowning. "Blue, I know you're upset, and normally I'm not opposed to the occasional fling every once in a while, but you can't just go hopping into bed with strangers to make yourself feel better!" She thumped a hand on her chest. "…You could've at least asked me first. I know I don't look like much but my technique is on point ."

"Figures that's what you'd be most concerned with…" Niel muttered.

"I told you before, I wanted to ask the Archbishop for advice," Abel replied. "I didn't lie, you know."

"Wait, what!? That was-" She then looked back at Abel incredulously. "…You know, Blue, maybe I've been misjudging you this whole time. Being able to talk your way into the robes of a priestess of Ilias, and an archbishop on top of that, is…"

Raine trailed off. Following her gaze, Abel realized why- Claire was approaching the temple entrance, with Laura at her side.

Claire came to a stop, folding her arms under her rather sizable bosom, as opposed to over it. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she asked.

Laura looked at Abel with a disdainful expression. "Your companion was taken from you, and yet here you are, seeking comfort in the arms of another woman. Or perhaps this was your plan all along?"

Abel's fist's clenched in anger. But before he could do something reckless, Raine stepped forward. "What about you? " the witch asked in turn. "Bored with your prize already?"

"What I do with my leisure time is none of your goddammned business," Claire growled. "And neither is what I do with Lailah." She dismissively tossed one of her tails over her shoulder and smirked at Abel. "Besides, it's not like I need to rush to get to know her. I have all the time in the world."

Abel tensed. But again, Raine interrupted any impulsive decisions, saying with a smile: "Well, I figured you'd be jumping at the chance to enjoy the company of a woman you didn't have to buy first."

The president's eyebrow twitched, but she remained silent. Laura took an angry step forward, but the president reached out and grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Let's go, Laura. We don't have to put up with this." Claire headed toward the temple entrance- Laura glared silently at Raine for a few moments, before following the president.

"So, that was Miss Queen Bitch herself…" Raine said in a low voice. "Not hard to see why so many people have a bone to pick with her."

At that moment, Abel remembered something. "Hey, Raine? I know this might not be the right time, but… I thought you said your magic would stop working if you entered the sacred grounds of another faith."

Raine's eyes cracked open in surprise, and she began stammering. "Well, uh, E-Eros doesn't really have any rituals that consecrate her temples. But that's not important right now! Our little run-in with Prez just now gave me an idea."

"Because your last idea worked out so well for Abel last time, didn't they, Raynare?" Niel muttered.

"Look, I know I messed up. But I'll help Blue fix this. I promise." Raine put her hands on Abe's shoulders. "I wasn't just out bullshitting somewhere while I was gone, you know. I was looking for information. And I learned some pretty interesting things about the president while I was away. Things I think we can use to our advantage."

Abel couldn't lie, the witch had managed to hook his interest. "…what kind of things?"

---

From an outside perspective, it was easy to assume Claire was unfit to lead the Aglis chapter of the Mage's Guild, wasting her days chasing girls with no regard for her position. But in truth, being president of a guild was very demanding- without Laura's support, and the careful appointment of individuals with the right skills to diffuse the workload, she likely would have resigned long ago, crushed under the unceasing demands of her position. But today was a rare day when her burden was light, and the stack of documents on her desk had been reviewed, signed, and filed away without incident. And now that her desk was cleared, Claire thought she deserved a little reward for all her hard work. Hopefully Laura wasn't wrapped up in anything too pressing- she could probably do with a bit of unwinding-

There was a sudden tap on the glass at the window behind her. She looked back. Outside, she could see the degenerate who'd challenged her, suspended in the air by wings of light sprouting from his back. Immediately, she climbed to her feet, and opened the window. "You must think you're rather clever, don't you?" she called.

He didn't reply. Instead, he tossed something toward her. She caught it, and realized it was a flower with purple petals. The same kind of flower he'd thrown at her feet days before. An azalea.

"I'm here for a rematch," he said.

Claire looked at the flower, before she scoffed and tossed it out the window. "Laura's already defeated you. As much as I enjoy watching her grind degenerate males like you beneath her heel, I'm not interested in a repeat performance." She reached out, and was just about to slam the window shut when-

"If you defeat me, I'll turn over the rest of my companions to you."

The president froze, her eyes lighting up for a moment. "You… you would use your companions as mere bargaining chips?" she said. "You truly are the lowest of the low." The president's voice shook, but not in anger, but excitement, like a child finding a new toy to play with.

Abel folded his arms over his chest. "Well, you're more than welcome to come and claim them… if you can. But if I win, then you'll allow us to travel to Caral Marsh. And you'll give Lailah back."

"Laura-"

But Abel cut her off. " No. If you want my companions, then you're gonna have to fight for them yourself."

The president blinked, the light in her eyes suddenly going out. "…I see what this is," she said. "Did you really think you could bait me so easily? Tempting as your offer is, I'm not as stupid as you degenerate males like to think I am." She turned her back on the window.

It seemed appealing to her libido wouldn't work. Raine had expected as much. Perhaps attacking her pride would yield better results. So, Abel turned his back. "I knew it. But I guess that's an advantage of being a noble. You can get others to fight your battles for you when you're too weak or too much of a coward to do it yourself."

In an instant, Claire was back at the window. "What did you just fucking say?"

Abel glanced back. "I said, you're just another spoiled noble who has to rely on their servants to do everything for them… Miss Meltrose."

Claire's grip on the window frame tightened, making the glass crack. "Don't you fucking dare talk down to me! You wanna fight me? Fine! I'll fight you, you fucking shitstain! And I'll make you regret those words when I pry your harem from your dead fucking fingers!"

She'd finally taken the bait. Abel would have to make sure to pay back Raine somehow- her information had been spot-on. "So you agree to a duel. Should we shake hands on it?"

"Fuck you!" Claire snatched something off her desk, and threw it in Abel's direction. She had surprisingly good aim- he had to dart to the side to avoid it.

"Alright. How does tomorrow morning at eight sound?"

Claire's response was an unintelligible stream of obscenities and insults. Abel assumed it was an agreement. "Alright. I think eight tomorrow morning is a good time. I'll see you then." Abel then quickly flew back to the fence surrounding the guildhall, before the president could find something else to throw at him.

Raine had done quite a bit of digging for information about Claire, looking not only into her history, but into her skills as well. Apparently, magic was divided into several disciplines, depending on its effects; and the president was an expert in the school of evocation, using elemental magic to attack her foes (with a focus in the electric element). And as a member of House Meltrose, she was the descendent of not just one, but several Heroes- she was faster, stronger, and had sharper senses than the average fighter. As strong as Laura has been, by all rights, Claire would be a far more formidable opponent.

So, to help tilt the odds in his favor, once abel returned to the inn, Niel spent several hours training him, teaching a new spell to add to his arsenal. A few hours would never be enough for him to master the spell, but he didn't need to master it- he only needed to be competent enough using it to ensure it would be effective.

"Remember Abel," Niel had warned. "This spell isn't like Divine Armor. It'll lessen the damage you take, but it won't stop it entirely. It'll make you tougher, but not invincible."

Soon, the next day came. When Abel and the others arrived at the Mage's Guild, there was a much larger crowd than before, and this time, quite a few were members of the Guild. As he pushed through the throng, Abel fully expected to find Claire's secretary waiting for him beyond the gate. But to his surprise, the president herself was waiting on the path beyond the gate.

Stepping through the gate, he said aloud, "I didn't think you'd face me yourself."

"I may have turned my back on my house, but I was raised as a noble," Claire said. "And during my education, I was taught that when a noble's honor is slighted, they must redress that slight." She extended a hand, and metal-shod staff- about as long as Abel was tall- appeared in a faint blue light. "To not face you personally after your visit would not only stain my honor, but stand in opposition to everything I've ever learned."

Warily, Abel drew his sword. This wasn't the first time he'd heard of honor- as part of his sermon, a priest that visited Seles long ago had said honoring the gods, and their mother and father was an important acts for individual faithful. But, what was it? Those who spoke of its importance never seemed able- or willing- to explain what it was. "I… don't understand," he said.

She rolled the staff around her wrist, "I wouldn't expect you to." Then Claire launched herself at him. He could have avoided the strike… but now was the perfect chance to see if Niel's training had paid off.

"Dragonskin!" Abel was washed in a golden light as a scaled pattern appeared on his skin.

The president's staff struck Abel's side with a dull thud. It hurt, but it was a distant, muted pain, like a bruise that was almost, but hadn't quite finished healing. He could handle it. He'd handled worse.

So, Abel struck back, thrusting his sword. Claire whirled her staff around herself as she fell back, deflecting his thrust with a brief flash of sparks. He struck again, this time with an overhead swing, but again, she deflected the blow. Then, she pulled her staff back, holding it in both hands, before thrusting it at his stomach like a spear. Abel inhaled sharply, preparing to cast Divine Armor, but he managed to avoid the thrust, even if just barely. He slashed at her in turn, but Claire planted her staff against the ground and vaulted over him, before swinging at him in a wide arc. There was nowhere he could go to evade the strike, so he had to block- the sound of metal clashing on metal rang out when her staff struck his sword, but though she pushed against him with all her strength, Abel stood his ground.

Claire was fast, but nowhere near as fast as Charlotte or Julia. She wasn't even as fast as Laura had been during their duel. And on top of that, despite being a mage, he hadn't seen her use so much as a spark of magic yet. Was she that confident in her physical abilities? Or was she waiting to use it when he was most vulnerable?

He couldn't let that happen. So, taking the initiative, he pushed her staff back, before pointing his free hand at her. "Angel Fire!" White flames gushed from his palm. But the president didn't try to avoid them. Like Laura, she held out her hand, and as before, the flames parted around her, leaving her unharmed and very unimpressed.

"Is that it?" she asked in a low voice. "I'll show you what a real mage is capable of." Clenching her fist, Claire began to mutter. "Piercing bolts of heaven… Thunder Arrow!" Three bursts of light flew from her hand, arcing through the air toward Abel. He evaded one, then the second, but he wasn't fast enough to avoid the third, which struck his leg. His entire body seized, and he felt as though he were being stabbed by a thousand needles. There was no time to recover however, as Claire rushed toward him. She swung her staff in a wide arc, which Abel deflected. But, Abel felt a strange sensation- there was a jolt, and all his muscles seized. For a moment, he couldn't even breathe. She followed up with a thrust- which Abel avoided- then a second, which Abel again had to deflect. And again, the moment his sword touched her staff, that strange sensation filled his body again.

"What, running out of stamina already, degenerate?" Claire asked mockingly. "Typical." Then, as she passed her staff between her hands, Abel saw a small arc of lightning bridge the space between her hands and the staff. She must have used a spell to imbue her staff with magic. He was already at a disadvantage where reach was concerned- he didn't need the odds tilted against him further. But how could he disarm her? Touching her staff directly was out, and he doubted his sword was sharp enough to cut through it.

But… his sword of light could do it. There was a problem, however. As much as he was trying not to let it show, Dragonskin had taken quite a lot out of him, and Angel Fire had sapped his mana reserves further. He'd only be able to maintain the sword for a few seconds at most. He would have to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Fortunately, he wouldn't be kept waiting long. Claire reared back, as if she were trying to stab her staff all the way through Abel's body. Before it could touch him, he darted to the side, focusing and summoning the sword of light to his free hand and swinging upwards blindly.

There was no jolt, no seizing of his muscles as Abel's blaide cleaved through the president's staff. The front section of the staff struck the ground with a loud clatter, the severed end glowing red from the heat of Abel's blade. Claire looked down at her staff in shock, the end still smoldering, now reduced to half its original length. Dismissing the sword of light, he pointed his regular sword at the president. "I'd give up if-"

But Claire swung the remaining half of her staff at Abel with all her might, striking him across the face. Abel stumbled back, reeling as spots danced across his vision and his ears filled with a high-pitched ringing, but before he could recover, the president grabbed his collar and struck him again. The blow knocked him off his feet entirely, and his sword slipped from his grasp. But Claire wasn't done- as Abel lay on the ground, still reeling, she again grabbed his collar, striking him over and over again with her broken staff. Abel brought up his arms, trying to protect himself, but it did little good. After a few hits, his vision went black, and the sounds of the world faded, save for the constant, dull thump of Claire's staff against his flesh.

Eventually, the blows came to an end. In a low voice, Claire asked, "…Are you done underestimating me?"

Abel could barely hear Claire. Her words sounded muffled and distant, as if hearing them through a thick wall.

The president dropped Abel. "Perhaps if your fighting skills were as sharp as your tongue, you wouldn't be in this predicament."

Abel rested a hand on his chest. He tried to focus, but all his concentration was spent trying to keep himself from falling unconscious.

"I hope you learned something from this. You may be a Hero, Champion of whatever deity thought you would be worthy, but your status doesn't give you anything. Your status is only worth what you can protect with your own two hands."

Abel concentrated as hard as he could. But the image of Lailah's smile was too distant for his mind's eye to grasp.

"You should be thanking me, honestly. Your companions will be far safer with me then they would ever be with you. So when you inevitably fail in your quest, you'll at least die comforted by the knowledge that your friends are safely in my care."

Abel decided to give up on healing himself. But he wasn't going to surrender. He could barely see Claire, and everything was muffled, as if someone had tied a pillow around his head. But even so, he tried to stand. As long as he could still move, he'd fight. As long as she had Lailah, he would never stop fighting.

Abel couldn't see the president's expression. But he could hear the disdain in her voice. "You really should learn when you've been beaten, degenerate." Abel managed to sit himself up. The last thing he saw was Claire swinging her broken staff toward his face. Then…

…nothing.

---

Though in truth not much time had passed at all, with everything that had happened, Abel felt as if the life he lived in Seles had happened a lifetime ago. But it hadn't been long enough to overwrite the reflexes he'd developed when he felt the sensation of someone touching his ankle, and he instantly snapped awake. That sensation was typically Abel's only warning before his master forcefully dragged him out of his bed- but Abel didn't awaken in his master's cabin. In fact, he wasn't quite sure where he was. Definitely not the inn. And the person at the foot of the bed wasn't his master, either.

It was… Erica.

At once, a sharp pain stabbed Into the side of Abel's head, pulsing through his veins with every beat of his heart. "Where… am I?" he grunted.

"My house," Erica replied. "Mavis asked me to bring you here so you could recover." She moved around the bed to his side. "You shouldn't move around too much. You took a pretty serious hit to the head."

From the way his head throbbed, Abel believed it- if there had been a mirror nearby, he wouldn't be surprised to see the imprint of Claire's staff on his face.

Wait. Claire…

Abel immediately jumped out of bed, staggering as a wave of nausea washed over him. "W…Where's everyone else?" he asked, despite already knowing the answer. Claire had beaten him. And he'd named terms, so…

Erica leaned against Abel for a moment to give him support. "You're awake. And yes, you did lose. But, as for everyone else…" Erica led Abel out of the bedroom, and down a set of stairs to a parlor with dark grey walls, the furniture covered in a thick layer of dust- it seemed that although this was her home, Erica didn't visit very often. But more importantly, as Abel entered…

"Blue!" Abel, you're awake." Raine was the first to reach him, holding him in a tight embrace. Then Holly, before Fiann pushed both aside and held Abel tightly against her chest. A bit too tightly for comfort. "Ow, ow! Fiann, that hurts!" After prying himself from the bard's grasp, he looked to the others. Everyone was here… everyone other than Lailah, that is. "I… I don't get it. I lost. So why didn't the president take you?"

"Well, for all her talk about honor, Prez doesn't think much of kicking a man while he's down," Raine replied. "Literally. She probably would've done worse to you if Em- …if Mavis hadn't stepped in."

"There are certain rules you have to follow in a duel," Seth said. "And one of the most important is that you can't attack your opponent if they're unable to continue. By doing just that, the president voided whatever agreement you made before the duel- it's like it never happened now. And with how many witnesses there were who saw everything, she'd have to be crazy to demand you turn us over to her."

That was good, Abel supposed, but…

"I take it you're worried about your priestess friend?" Erica asked. "Let me and Mavis handle that. I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement with Madame President. We do owe you a favor, after all." She then turned away. "Anyway, I should be heading to the Guild. I'm sure Mavis needs help cleaning up the mess Madame President left behind. Please, make yourselves at home."

Once Erica was gone, Abel looked to the rest of his companions. He waited for someone to say something, and eventually, Seth spoke up. "…While I appreciate the vice-president stepping in on our behalf, it doesn't really change anything. We're right back where we started."

"Yeah…" Holly replied. "What should we do?"

Fiann wrote in her journal. [Just say the word, Abel. One word, and those two whores will be nothing but a bad memory.] Abel stammered slightly- he held more than a little resentment toward Claire and her secretary, but Fiann's proposal would create infinitely more problems than solutions for him.

Raine sank into an empty, slightly dusty couch. "I hate to say it, but I think Blue made the right call back when Prez first started stonewalling us. We should pull out of Aglis and try our luck with a different branch of the Guild."

"That might be the first good idea you've had since we arrived, Raynare," Niel said.

Holly looked to the witch in shock. "What!? We're not leaving Lailah behind, are we?"

"Of course not! But we can't sit around waiting for Em to fix things for us." Raine leaned forward with a confident smile. "So… who's up for a little rescue mission?"

For several seconds, there was no response. Finally, Seth replied, "I'd rather let the vice-president handle that."

"Am I really hearing this? Coming from the mouth of a thief, no less?"

"Former thief. And what I did as the Ghost was more than just for my own sake…"

Before the argument could escalate further, Abel stepped forward. "I'm… gonna go talk to Bacchus."

All eyes turned to the young man. "Okay. Why?" Raine asked.

"To ask her if we can search for a different altar."

Holly tilted her head. "You can do that?"

"The altar in Caral Marsh isn't the only one I have to find. So, why not? I'll beg if I have to. If…" If it means we never have to deal with the president again , he nearly said.

"Blue…" Raine began, before stopping herself. "…well, I wouldn't go that far, but if you think you can convince Bacchus…"

"I… think that's a good idea," Holly added. "Maybe starting over with a clean slate will do us some good."

[If you're sure.] Fiann wrote, though from her expression, she seemed disappointed by his choice.

"We'll leave you to it, then," Niel said. "In the meantime, the rest of us should figure out our next destination, just in case negotiations fall through. Your thoughts, Raynare?"

"Me?" Raine asked, taken aback. "Well… if Caral's on the border between Ermis and Mavors, we should start by heading to one of the eastern states. I think the County of Pentas is the closest to that region…" Abel left the parlor, and stepped out onto Erica's porch. He was thankful the others had decided against coming against him.

Because it meant that there was no one to bear witness when he collapsed to his knees, buried his face in his hands, and wept silent, bitter tears. He tried to hold them in- in Seles, he'd learned early on that tears were seen as a show of weakness. But he couldn't. The pain had simply become too much to bear.

Seeing his friends should have been a relief… but they only served to remind him of his failures.

That he was no stronger than he was when he first left Seles.

That everything he had, was because someone else had given it to him. Not because he'd earned it through his own merits.

And that he'd lied to people he was supposed to trust.

Abel had no intention of speaking to Bacchus. He simply couldn't bring himself to look the others in the eye. Meeting with Bacchus just felt like the most plausible excuse he could muster. All he wanted now was to get away from this damned city. To get Lailah back, hop on the first ship leaving Mavors, and put the names of Aglis and Claire Meltrose out of his mind for as long as he lived. Was it a very "Hero" thing to do? Probably not. But would Roland have failed? Or Cavall? Or any of the other Heroes? Not for the first time, he wondered if his being chosen as a Hero was a mistake.

Or worse yet, as Fiann- and even Abel himself- suspected, that his ordeals were nothing but a cruel game played by Bacchus, for her own amusement, and at his expense.

Finding a tavern in a city this size proved simple enough- had his spirits been higher, Abel would've found such a trivial task almost insultingly easy, but at the moment, he was grateful for a bit of low-hanging fruit. And after seating himself at the bar, and dropping two gold coins on the counter in exchange for the strongest stuff they had, Abel "prepared to visit" Bacchus.

In Seles, everyone set aside a portion of their wages for alcohol, either spending it at the tavern in Hokes, or buying a bottle or two from the occasional visiting merchant. Abel never understood why. He'd once snuck a drink from one of Master Rachel's wine bottles in the dead of night- it was overwhelmingly sour, drying his throat and leaving behind a burning that lingered for nearly an hour afterward. But now… he thought he was beginning to understand. After the dryness and the burn, the tavern's finest ale sat in his stomach, creating a comfortable, numbing warmth that spread through his entire body. It wasn't enough to completely smother the memories of his defeats, nor the shame that came with them, but perhaps… with a few more drinks…

Abel didn't know when they arrived, nor how long they had been seated next to him, but he became aware that the person sitting alongside him was staring at him intently. From the intensity, he expected Fiann, but when he turned to look… it was a stranger. A woman with short white hair, and incredibly pale, nearly grey skin, wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt that reached all the way down to her thighs, its hood pulled over her head. She was not unattractive, but there was something odd about her, and it was only until he looked at her eyes that Abel could place what. The stranger was completely without color- her clothes, her skin, her hair… it was as if she had stepped into this world from one where black, white, and greys were the only hues. …Well, almost. Her eyes were colored a strange, vibrant hue that lay somewhere between pink and red that almost seemed to glow in the absence of any other colors.

"Hi," the pale woman said. The woman's voice had a strange airiness to it. The pink-haired woman at the Temple of Eros had spoken in the same way. After their visit with Irina, Niel finally explained why she wanted Abel to stay away from Temples of Eros- apparently, one could hire the temple attendants to "accompany" them, though she wouldn't elaborate further. Was the woman one of Temple's attendants, prowling for clientele? Whatever her reason for seeking him out, Abel wasn't in the mood to entertain company. Still, he tried to put on a veneer of civility. "Did you need something?"

"You're Sir Abel, right?" the pale woman asked. "Dueled the Guild president not too long ago? I heard things didn't turn out too well for you."

Abel tensed for a brief moment, saying nothing. Apparently, wagering on the outcome of duels wasn't an uncommon practice in larger cities. And at times, should they survive, the losing party would be confronted by angry gamblers seeking to recoup their losses.

The woman must have sensed his tension however, because she quickly said, "Oh don't worry. I'm not here to cause trouble for you. In fact… I think you and I can help each other."

"How's that?" Abel couldn't imagine how a Hero so weak that two ordinary- if skilled- mages could defeat him would be of much help to anyone.

"Well, I'm part of a special interest group conducting research in Caral Marsh. And it so happens that we're looking for protection for our next excursion."

Caral… that was enough to part the dark clouds of Abel's mood… but, only for a few moments. "…sorry. But I'm not interested."

The pale woman's face twitched. "Well. That's a shame," she said. "But it's no loss to us. There's no shortage of other mercenaries for hire." She stood, before then looking at Abel with a strange intensity in her gaze. "But whatever business you have in Caral must be very important. You wouldn't have thrown yourself at the president so readily if it wasn't." She drew closer. "Am I wrong?"

She wasn't. Abel let out a breath, cursing himself for being so transparent.

"So, what will it be? You want to go to Caral. I can take you there. I'm sure the president would beg to differ, but I can see that you're an intelligent young man. Intelligent enough to not let this chance slip away."

What would the others have thought, had they been here? No doubt, they would have told Abel not to trust the woman. That this was obviously some sort of ploy. Even a small part of Abel's mind agreed. But… maybe this was precisely the break they needed. He couldn't be overly optimistic, but at the very least, there was no harm in hearing out the woman's proposal., was there?

After a few more moments of contemplation, Abel stood as well. "…alright. I'll admit, I'm interested. But I'm not agreeing to anything just yet. Not until you tell me more about this excursion, Miss…"

"Zoyin," the woman replied, extending her hand. As Abel shook it, she continued, "I assure you, Sir Abel, you made a very wise decision today." She then turned to the tavern's entrance. "Now, please come with me. Our group's benefactor will want to meet you."

Abel followed the pale woman's lead to the north. The buildings began to change- they were in the same style as the rest of the city, but looked older, and less well taken care of. Abel's attention however was focused on this "special interest group" Zoyin was part of. Did they work with a guild, or were they some separate entity altogether? And were they simply in need of hired help, or had they been looking for a Hero specifically? As they walked, Zoyin spoke up. "Thank you again for being amenable, Sir Abel. Our benefactor actually requested that we seek you out specifically. It would've made things quite awkward for us had you turned us down."

Before Abel could reply, he noticed something up ahead. Soldiers- both the town watch and Crusaders, stood abreast at an intersection ahead, with raised shields and spears aimed in their direction. Behind them, soldiers quickly filed out of alleyways between the buildings, forming their own defensive line that completely boxed in Abel and Zoyin. Still in formation, both lines began to march forward, further shrinking any avenues of escape.

"What… what is this?" Abel demanded, turning to Zoyin. "What's going on!?"

But Zoyin ignored him, folding her arms over her chest as she looked at the lines of soldiers. "Huh. That didn't take long. Guess the shielding needs more work."

Both lines of soldiers halted about ten paces away, before parting to allow someone to pass- two per side, for a total of four. All of whom Abel recognized. Claire and Laura were in front, Mavis and Erica behind him.

The president pointed at Zoyin, and shouted, "You, the one in black! Get on the ground and put your hands behind your head!"

"Master Abel, get away from her!" Erica shouted.

Abel's gaze shifted back-and-forth between the president and Erica. "Miss Erica, what's going on!?"

"You heard what she said, degenerate! Step back, now!" Laura ordered.

For a fleeting moment, Abel had thought this was some kind of set-up, a way for the president to further humiliate him. But it was clear that she and Zoyin didn't know each other. And more importantly, he was about to lose yet another opportunity. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't. So Abel stood his ground, and shouted, "I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what's going on!"

"That woman isn't what you think she is! She's-"

At that moment, something happened. Something so fast, that if Abel had blinked, he would have missed it entirely, Something erupted from the pale woman's back, and thrust itself at Erica, impaling her through the stomach.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. It was long, and made of many sharp segments made from gleaming metal, ending with a wide blade- it reminded Abel of a scorpion's stinger. Then, in the blink of an eye, she withdrew her stinger, and Erica collapsed to the ground.

Zoyin looked over her shoulder with a broad smile. "Come now," she said. "Don't go and spoil the surprise."

For several moments, there was an almost deafening silence. Then, Mavis screamed, in a mix of sorrow, pain, and fury. As soldiers surrounded Erica, pulling her behind the safety of their line, the vice-president held her hands out toward Zoyin, spears of ice as long as her arm forming in the air behind her, before launching at the pale woman. But rather than piercing through Zoyin, the spears shattered against her skin, as if she were a stone statue. The force behind them would have been enough to knock someone off their feet several times over, but she barely seemed to flinch, a confident smile on her face. "Vice-President Mavis. Evoker specializing in the ice element."

But Mavis wasn't finished- she pulled both hands back, a swirling white sphere forming in her hands. "…Frostfall!" She thrust her hands forward, and a swirling cloud of ice rushed forth, freezing everything in its path. But Zoyin made no attempt to evade even as the cloud consumed her. When it dispersed, Zoyin stood frozen with a thick sheet of ice covering her, smug smile still frozen on her face.

Mavis stood, breathing heavily for several moments, before quickly striding up to the frozen woman, a long, heavy-looking hammer made from solid ice appearing in her hand. She gripped the handle with both hands, and swung it at Zoyin with all her might. But all of a sudden, the ice shattered, and the pale woman grabbed the hammer's head, stopping it mid-swing. "I can remain operational at temperatures as low as negative sixty degrees," Zoyin said calmly. "You'll have to try harder than that." With terrifying ease, she yanked the hammer from Mavis's grip with one hand, before striking her across the head with the handle, sending the vice-president sprawling. The pale woman flipped the hammer around as she stalked toward the fallen Mavis, but after just a few steps, the ice hammer exploded into a cloud of icy vapor.

Calmly, Zoyin flexed her fingers, breaking the ice coating her arm. "You're not very good at learning from past experience, are you?" But then, a figure rushed through the mist, striking the side of Zoyin's head. The figure tried to strike again, aiming for her stomach, but Zoyin stabbed her stinger into the ground and used her tail to pull herself out of the fog. The figure strode out of the fog to follow her, revealing that it was Laura.

"Laura, Guild General Secretary. School of choice: transmutation, focusing on physical enhancement." Laura rushed toward the pale woman. But now that she could see her enemy coming, she slipped under the secretary's roundhouse kick with ease, and the second. "But you can't hope to match my strength, no matter how much you buff yourself up." She suddenly caught Laura's fist, lifting her into the air. "After all… you're only human." She whipped her arm, slamming Laura against the ground, before lifting her up, and headbutting the secretary hard enough to knock her out of her grasp. Zoyin then approached slowly, metallic tail flicking back and forth impatiently.

"Sling of the thunder god strike true… Thunder Arrow!" Three bolts of lightning arced through the air, all three hitting their mark. But as with every other attack, Zoyin barely reacted, as she turned around. "Guild President, Claire Meltr-"

In the blink of an eye, Claire crossed the distance and swung her staff, striking the side of Zoyin's face hard enough to make her staff ring out. But Zoyin didn't even shift slightly from the attack. "…Claire Meltrose. First daughter and former heir to House Meltrose. Elder sister of Charlotte Meltrose, lieutenant of Crusader Special Operations Unit, Wyvern Company. Evoker specializing in the lightning element, with a minor focus in-"

"That's enough!" Claire whirled her staff around before swinging again, aiming at Zoyin's feet. But the pale woman blocked the strike with her stinger. Claire pressed, but the tail didn't budge. "Weren't you listening? Even you and your heroic lineage can't match my strength."

"Maybe." The president smirked. "But I don't have to be stronger than you." She muttered a short incantation: "Thunderous fangs: Discharge!"

There was a brilliant flash of light, and a burst of heat, and for the first time, Zoyin stumbled as her tail was pushed away from Claire's staff. She brought up her tail, as if inspecting for damage, but despite the burst of light, there was no mark, scratch, or any other sign of damage.

"I have to commend our previous field agents," Zoyin said. "Your abilities align with our intelligence perfectly."

"Intelligence…?" Claire pointed her staff at the pale woman. "Who are you!? What are you after!?"

Zoyin coiled her tail around herself. "I'm under no obligation to tell you anything. But you're more than welcome to try to force the answers out of me… if you think you can."

---

It took… far too long for Abel to come to his senses. Without even realizing it, his wings erupted from his back, and he flew over the guards, to where Erica had been taken. One of them was tending to her, but it was obvious that whatever he was doing wasn't enough. "Get out of the way!" Abel ordered as he crashed to the ground a few feet away, skidding to a stop at Erica's side. The soldier- clad in black and silver- complied, moving back to let Abel work.

Erica turned slightly. "Master Abel?" Her voice was weak, but she seemed… strangely calm despite her wound. Abel didn't know anything about treating injuries, but he doubted that was a good sign.

"I- It- Y-You're gonna be okay," Abel stammered, trying to convince himself more than Erica. He concentrated, trying to bring the image of Lailah, or even Damia's smile to mind. It was difficult, with the massive wound in Erica's stomach- through the dark red blood and other things he didn't want to know the names of, Abel was almost certain that he could see the paving stone she was laying on.

"Don't…" Erica said, much more quietly now. "…don't worry about me. Mavis… is… Mavis…"

No. No, no no no, this couldn't be happening. Abel held up his hand- Lailah and Damia refused to come to mind, but he refused to sit back and do nothing. He'd brute force his healing spell if he had to. He focused, and by some miracle, a white light flashed from his palm. But, nothing happened. Erica's wound remained open. "What!?" Abel focused, and there was another flash. But again, nothing happened. with no effect. "Come on…" There was a flash, with no effect. "Come on, work, damn it!" Flash. No effect.

"Enough," the black-clad soldier said. "There's nothing else we can do."

Red-tinged tears began to fall from Abel's eyes. "No! I can't give up! Not now!" Flash. No effect. "How can I call myself a Hero if I can't save people in front of me who need help!" He tried to heal her one more time, but a stabbing pain in Abel's temples stopped his concentration. But, it wouldn't have done any good. Not only had her wound not healed in the slightest, Erica had turned bone-white, the dark red puddle leaking out of her now large enough to soak through the knees of his trousers. And worse yet, she was entirely still. She was gone.

He… had failed.

A cry of pain rang out. Abel looked back. Through gaps in the soldiers' line, he saw Claire fall back with a deep gouge in her leg, her staff cut in half, with Zoyin's tail extended. The president held out her hand- a bolt of lightning shot from her palm, but Zoyin didn't even flinch as she slowly walked toward her. "You think I'm fucking scared of you!?" Claire shouted in a shaky voice.

"It doesn't matter what you think of me. Because in a few moments the only thing you're going to be…" The girl's metallic tail flexed, its stinger hovering by her shoulder. "…is deceased."

Abel saw the pale woman as only one thing:

An enemy. To be destroyed, completely and utterly, without pity, or mercy.

Suddenly, Zoyin felt something grab her bicep, before her arm was ripped out of its socket entirely. Glancing back through the spray of blood, she saw Abel, eyes blazing as a mix of tears and blood flowed down his face. He looked surprised for a moment- he likely intended to pull her back, but put far too much strength into his action and ended up tearing her arm off entirely.

But more importantly, his mistake left him wide open. Her stinger turned, lashing out at the boy. He moved only a little, but it was enough for her strike to miss. He then grabbed her tail, swinging it over his head- Zoyin was pulled into the air, before she was slammed against the ground hard enough to crack the paving stones. She instantly sprang to her feet, pulling back as Abel drew his sword. Before he could fully draw his weapon, Zoyin thrust her stinger at him again. But to her shock, a blade of light appeared in his free hand, and he easily batted her tail aside. Undaunted, she looped her tail around his back, to pull his feet out from beneath him, but he leapt into the air, held aloft on white, ephemeral wings that flickered like white flames.

He hung in the air for a moment, before darting down toward her. He swung the sword in his right hand- the metal sword. Zoyin raised her tail, and the sword shattered against its unyielding surface. But Abel was undaunted. He swung the sword of light in his left hand, concentrating- the broken sword evaporated as a second sword of light appeared to replace it. Zoyin kept her tail raised, moving it to deflect Abel's furious swings. The wings on his back flickered, and white flakes seemed to fall from his clothes, as if being burned away by invisible flames.

But as she blocked the young man's strikes, she saw that her tail was beginning to glow a faint cherry red. It was… melting. But that shouldn't have been possible. The alloy it was made from had been alchemically strengthened to resist high temperatures- nothing short of dipping it into a volcano should have been able to damage it. And yet-

Abel swung wildly at her with both blades. Zoyin brought up her stinger, blocking his strike with the body. But the metal began to glow a bright red, then white, as he pressed his blades against it. Then, with a final push, Abel cut through the metal tail. It fell to the ground, flexing and spasming uncontrollably for a few moments.

Zoyin fell back, feeling her skin bubbling. Slowly, Abel walked toward her. His breastplate clattered to the ground as the leather straps were burned away, the stone blackening as he passed. And despite his distance, she could see the windows of the surrounding buildings crack from the intensity of the heat he gave off. Her master had predicted the boy's power may become more potent were she to harm any innocents, but this far exceeded his predictive models.

It was time for a tactical withdrawal. She'd failed to acquire a blood sample from the target, but Zoyin was certain her observational data would be enough to compensate.

So, Zoyin turned and began to run away, lowering her shoulder and charging through the wall of soldiers. But Abel chased after her, becoming little more than a white streak of light that raced ahead of her, and barred her path forward. As he passed, he cut into her legs, just below her knees, severing them with a single swing, and the red-eyed woman fell on her face. As soon as she propped herself up on her remaining hand, Abel crossed his blades, placing one on each side of her neck. The white flames continued to erupt from his back, shadowing the front of his body. Everything except for his eyes, which glowed brightly as he glared down at her, and his face, which was briefly illuminated as breathed out a thin wisp of white flame with every exhale.

Zoyin couldn't lie- it was quite an impressive spectacle. A normal human would have been utterly terrified. But…

Zoyin smiled. "…what? Were you hoping to hear me beg for my life or something?"

Abel didn't reply as he swiftly pulled his arms apart, cutting through Zoyin's neck with both blades. Her body dropped to the ground, and her head rolled forward, coming to a stop about a pace away. For several moments, Abel stood, looking down at Zoyin's body as blood pooled under it. But, something about her blood was… strange. It was a vibrant, pink-red color. The same as her eyes.

He didn't look back as footsteps approached. He simply asked, "…how did you know where to find us?"

"All monsters produce a miasma that's detectable by magical means, even while disguised," Laura's voice replied. "Aglis is built on a magic circle that can detect this miasma, and provide specific information about its location within this circle."

Claire stepped past Abel, and crouched down to pick up Zoyin's severed head. "What the hell is this thing?" she asked, as she looked it in the face. "Some sort of undead?"

All of a sudden, Zoyin's head snarled in anger. "Raagh!" Claire screamed, flinging the severed head high into the air as she fell backwards. The head then hit the ground, facing toward Claire as it rolled to a stop. "Aah… that hurt, you cunt!"

Any rational thoughts were silenced as Abel turned, and grabbed the head by the hair, ignoring her pained protests. He didn't speak any words- white flames began to erupt from his free hand merely because he willed them to.

"What do you think you're doing?" Laura demanded.

White flames continued to flicker at Abel's fingertips. "I'm sending this thing to Hell where it belongs."

"You'll do no such thing." Laura strode up to Abel, reaching for Zoyin's head.

In an instant, the flames in Abel's hand were replaced by a sword of light. He pointed the blade at the secretary's chest with an unwavering glare. But someone else approached, and a gentle voice said, "Abel…" He glanced over momentarily- it was Mavis, wearing a somber expression. "…give us the head."

His gaze still fixed on Laura, Abel asked slowly, "How can you be so calm right now? Erica was… she's special to you. And this thing killed her. Are you really going to let it live after doing that?"

Mavis's face darkened, her voice dropping. "Believe me. I hate that thing. I hate it just as much as you do. But… Someone made that creature. Someone sent it to Aglis for a reason. If you destroy it, we lose any chance of getting answers. You understand that, don't you?"

Abel didn't reply. But… he did understand. The white flame in his hand burned out. Tentatively, Mavis approached, before taking the head. The vice-president then immediately turned it over to Claire. The disgust clear on her face, the president lifted Zoyin's head to eye level. "We have a few questions we'd like to ask you."

Zoyin scoffed. "Try me. There's nothing you can do to me that hasn't already been done."

---

Abel awoke. Slowly, he climbed out of bed, and got dressed. Or rather, he watched as his body climbed out of bed and dressed itself of its own accord. He felt… distant, as if he were merely a spectator within his own body, watching as it went through his routine automatically. When he was done, he looked at himself in the small mirror in his room. His sword, his breastplate, his clothes… the fire of his wings had burned away nearly everything. So, everything needed to be replaced, with fire-resistant spells woven in to ensure his flames wouldn't ruin them again. In truth, his new attire wasn't much different from what he had before- black boots, brown trousers, blue shirt, and a steel sword hanging at his belt- but it felt strange against his skin, soft, but somehow also stiff. All that was different was the jacket- grey, with metal plates sewn into the interior. Lamellar armor, the shopkeeper had called it, meant to both be fashionable and protective. But before he could examine himself further, a knock sounded at Abel's door.

Shortly after Zoyin had been neutralized, Crusaders from the Church arrived, claiming that the Inquisition would be assuming responsibility for investigating how the monster had breached the city's defenses. As Abel opened the door, he expected to find a Crusader, or a priest of the Church, dispatched to inform him the Inquisition had discovered something. And while the woman beyond was with the Church, it was just about the last woman Abel had expected.

Lailah immediately pulled Abel into a tight embrace, her robes doing little to conceal the softness of her body. "I'm glad you're okay." She stepped back to look him over. "Are you alright? You aren't hurt, are you?"

"I'm fine," he replied somberly. Abel was happy to see her, truly. But the events of the day before had put quite a damper on his mood. "What about you? What are you doing here?"

"The president sent me. The archbishop wanted to share the results of the Inquisition's investigation."

Abel should have expected as much. There was no way the president would have just let Lailah go free, even if he had technically saved not only her life, but her secretary and the vice-president. Still, just being able to see Lailah with his own eyes again put Abel at ease. As she led Abel from the inn to Sister Irina's church, he couldn't help but stare, afraid that if he were to take his eyes off of her, even for a moment, that she would vanish.

The two entered the church, making their way to the altar. Irina was there, surprisingly wide awake, as were Claire and Laura, gathered at the frontmost pews. But there was one other person- a familiar blonde man in the armor of a Crusader.

"Prince Roland?" Abel asked, as they neared. "Why are you here?"

"I was on the outskirts of the city when I heard the news," the prince replied. "I rushed back as quickly as I could, but it seems I missed almost everything." His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "To think, a monster could penetrate so deeply into Aglis without being detected."

"You're here, good," Irina then said. "We can finally get started."

As Abel and Lailah quickly sank into a nearby pew, the archbishop continued, "Unfortunately, our interrogation of… the head hasn't yielded any results. She doesn't seem to feel any pain, and when threatened, she said she could be rebuilt, before asking if we could say the same about ourselves."

"What about the body itself?" Laura asked.

"The physician we brought in to conduct the autopsy believes the creature to be a new type of undead," the Archbishop replied. "The body appears to have been surgically constructed from several other bodies, but there's no evidence to indicate magic was used to revive it."

"So, we're not dealing with your average necromancer, then," Claire said.

"I think our best path forward is to identify this substance." Irina reached into her robes, and held up a small vial filled with a strange, glowing liquid that was somewhere between red and pink in color. Abel recognized it, of course- it was Zoyin's blood. "And to that end…" she said, looking toward Claire and Laura. "Have you made any headway on your end of the investigation, Madame President?"

"We have not," Laura replied. "The local apothecaries had no luck in identifying the sample, and the Guild lacks the equipment needed to conduct a thorough analysis." She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "We sent a sample to the nearest branch of the Alchemist's Guild, but it could be some time before we receive their results."

The mention of alchemists stirred something in Abel's memory. "Maybe we should track down Amber," he half-muttered. "She might know."

"Amber?" Claire suddenly asked, looking back in Abel's direction. "Do you mean, Amber Promestein?" The way she emphasized Amber's last name made Abel think that he should have recognized it. But, he didn't.

"I… don't know," Abel replied hesitantly. "The only Amber I know works with the Wyverns."

The president narrowed her eyes at Abel. "Then we're talking about the same person, you fucking imbecile."

Fortunately, Abel wouldn't be left clueless for long. "The Promesteins are a family of alchemists, who came to prominence during the Ermisian Civil War roughly four hundred years ago," Roland explained. "If anyone can help identify this substance, it would be a member of that family." The prince then rubbed his chin. "But, she and the rest of Wyvern Company are still on assignment. Tracking her down could prove difficult."

"In that case, it may be more prudent to find Promesteins' estate," Irina then said.

Claire scoffed. "Find their estate? You want a kidney as well?"

"The location of the Promestein estate is a closely guarded secret," Laura said, adjusting her glasses. "Only a handful of people have ever learned its location."

"That may be true for the average citizen," Irina began, "but not the Church. The Inquisition has kept an eye on the family for well over a century now. Out of respect for the Ermisian imperial family's wishes, we've never disclosed their exact location to anyone without a need to know. But the estate is here , in Mavors. I can say that much, at least."

"I'll do it," Abel said. "Take that sample to the Promestein estate, I mean. I have a way to find it." Abel pulled the pendant from his neck, and focused on a single directive: Find the Promestein estate . The amulet shot up, pointing somewhere behind him and to the left.

Laura looked at him, incredulous, with an eyebrow raised. "And you expect us to just… believe you?"

"I understand your skepticism, Madame Secretary," Roland began. "But, even if you don't trust Master Abel, you should trust his Relic. The abilities of Ariadne's Amulet are well-documented. And in all the tests the Church has conducted… it has never failed to find what its bearer sought. Though you raise a fair point- the road could be treacherous. And if it will put everyone's mind at ease…" Roland then stood. "I shall accompany you, Master Abel."

"What?" Abel said, taken aback. "But, don't you have your own things to do?"

The prince looked at Abel with a stony expression. "I didn't see this monster with my own eyes. I didn't face it in battle as you did. But I heard the reports, the testimony of those who witnessed it. And what's worse, there may be more of these creatures out there, hiding in plain sight. We may not know how many are out there, who made them, or for what purpose." His expression shifted to a hard glare. "But even so, this much is clear to me: these creatures pose a clear threat to Mavors and its citizens. And I will do everything I must to ensure the safety of my people."

Abel was silent. He couldn't exactly argue against the prince's reasoning. And if there were more monsters like Zoyin, as Roland suspected, his support would be a tremendous benefit.

Which made what happened next all the more surprising. "I…" Claire began.

Irina turned. "Do you have something to add, Madame President?"

After a moment of hesitation, Claire stood as well. "I… shall be joining Prince Roland and… Master Abel as well."

Laura's jaw fell open, clearly caught off-guard just as much as Abel. "Madame President?"

Claire didn't answer as she stiffly stood, before she turned, and just as stiffly, bowed in Abel's direction. Abel could see that her face was scrunched up, as if she were fighting against someone forcing her to do so. Through gritted teeth, she said, "On my honor as a member of House Meltrose, I must thank you."

"Uh…" Abel began.

But before he could form a coherent reply, the president continued: "Master Abel, through your actions, I have been indebted to you. As such, my honor as a noble requires that I accompany you until such a time that my debt to you is repaid."

Then, she relaxed, folding her arms under her breasts and glaring at Abel. "But don't get the wrong idea, degenerate. I'm only doing what my honor requires. Not to mention, a member of the Guild was murdered on my watch. As President, I won't let that stand. But as soon as this is resolved, I'll be returning to Aglis. You and I are not friends. And you'd better remember that." She then pointed an accusing finger, not at Abel, but at Lailah. "And you, you'll be coming with me so I can keep my eye on you."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Roland was the one to break it. "Anyway… it appears the Promestein estate lies to the northwest. We should make appropriate preparations for the journey ahead."

"Can we stop somewhere first?" Abel asked.

"Certainly," the prince replied. "As long as it isn't too far out of the way."

"I wanted to visit Miss Mavis before we go." He glanced toward Claire. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

The president tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "Not in the slightest. As it happens, I have business with her as well."

So, after receiving the sample of Zoyin's blood, the group set out for Mavis's home, Claire leading the way. After a few knocks, the front door swung open, revealing the vice-president. She looked surprisingly well, considering everything that had happened. Though, perhaps she simply had a talent for putting on a brave front. "Abel, Madame President…" she said. "What brings you here?"

"Miss Mavis…" he replied.

Claire cut in. "Mavis, I'll be joining Prince Roland in investigating where the monster from yesterday came from. You'll be in charge of overseeing the Guild until I return."

Mavis nodded. "Understood, Madame President."

"Madame President, I've held my tongue long enough," Laura said firmly, stepping forward. "I will not allow you to endanger yourself for the sake of a meaningless debt to a worthless degenerate male."

"Laura…" The debate between the president and her secretary faded from Abel's attention. The interruption had actually given him enough time to gather his thoughts.

"Miss Mavis," Abel began. "I'm… sorry. That thing from yesterday… it came because it was looking for me. Erica…" He hung his head. "…she's dead, because of me."

"Abel, that isn't-" Mavis began.

But Abel wasn't finished. "I failed Erica. And I failed you as well. I know th…that it's too late now… but…" Abel's hands clenched into fists. "That thing said it had a benefactor. And the archbishop is sure that someone made it. …I'm gonna find whoever made that thing. I'm gonna find them, then I'm gonna rip their head off and bring it back to you."

"Abel…" Mavis began again.

"I'm sorry. I know… Erica probably wouldn't want that. But I made up my mind. I can't just do nothing. I couldn't save her. All I can do now… is make sure that what happened to Erica… never happens to anyone else." Abel turned, and began walking away from the house. "Let's go get the others, Lailah."

"Right," the priestess replied, hurrying to Abel's side.

It took a moment for Claire to notice what had happened. "Wh- hey! You come back here, degenerate! That girl doesn't belong to you!"

---

"This sucks… couldn't they've put out a book for me to read or something?"

Zoyin's complaint went unheard. She was alone, sitting in a jar left alone in a cramped cell in the local Inquisition HQ. The Inquisitor who questioned her had asked two very simple questions: where did you come from, and who made you? And when Zoyin refused to reply, he had tried everything he could think of to force an answer out of her. She idly wondered, had she been human, what method would've forced her confession. The branding iron? When he used that iron to burn out her eye? Or perhaps when he began flaying the skin off the side of her face? But in the end, the Inquisitor received no answers from her. That was a perk of this body of hers- pain couldn't be used against her, either as a deterrent, or to force compliance.

Since the Inquisition couldn't make her talk, she was useless to them, and would most likely be disposed of before long. It was possible that she would be kept for further study for a time, perhaps even making it as far as Lescatie. But no matter which road she ended up on, the destination for all would be the same: death.

But, even though she'd been reduced to nothing more than a head. Zoyin wasn't worried.

After all, she hadn't been sent on this assignment alone.

Just as Zoyin thought that, she heard a faint sound: the sound of something grinding against metal. Her cell had a window with bars over it- she'd only gotten a glimpse as she was carried into the cell, but she knew it was there. Her partner must have been cutting her way through the bars, quietly, so as not to alert any sentries. Zoyin shivered- she'd finally be out of here, to get fixed up and get a new body. Hopefully, she'd be sent out again.

The jar rattled slightly as someone jumped down from the window into the cell. As she was turned around, Zoyin said, "There you are, Samech. What the hell took you?" Samech was like her- in a sense, they were "sisters," born to the same "father." And more importantly, Samech was her partner for this mission. Operations were always conducted in teams of two: one to execute the mission, and the other providing support- collecting information, relaying mission status back to base, and, as was the case now, recovery should agents be rendered inoperable in the field.

Only… the woman in front of her wasn't Samech. Samech was taller than Zoyin, thinner, with long white hair she'd taken to braiding, and always wore a pair of black-framed glasses she'd found during a mission, but didn't actually need. This stranger however resembled a woman with much shorter black hair, dressed in a heavy traveler's cloak in dull red. There was nothing else of note- no unusual features that would make her stand out in a crowd. It was definitely one of her sisters- she could sense the rubedo flowing through the other woman's veins- but Zoyin didn't recognize her at all. Was it a new agent? Had Father sent another team to Aglis without informing them?

"You are Unit Zoyin-4, correct?" the stranger asked in a cool, detached voice.

"Who the hell are you? What happened to Samech?" What was this? Had Samech been captured as well? Surely she would have heard about it- the guards weren't exactly quiet about events taking place beyond her prison's walls.

"Capture by outside forces and seizure of critical assets constitutes an unacceptable mission outcome," the stranger stated. "Samech-3 has been retired in accordance with operational procedure."

Retired? Suddenly, Zoyin realized what was about to happen. "Wha… n-n -no. No! I didn't fail! I have observational data from the target-"

The stranger raised her left arm- or rather, the metallic, cannon-like appendage that had been implanted in its place- and aimed it at Zoyin. A long needle shot out from beneath the cannon's barrel, piercing through the glass jar and into Zoyin's skull. "Unit Zoyin-4… Master Guillaume no longer requires your services."

"N-No…" Zoyin pleaded feebly as her life was siphoned away. "I… don't want… to… diss…" The head's jaw slackened, and the pink-red light in her eye faded.

The stranger retracted the syringe, quickly climbing up the cell wall and out the window, disappearing into the darkness of the night. Both field agents had been neutralized. But her work was far from over. Samples of rubedo had been collected for analysis- she would need to intercept them before they reached their destinations. One was still in Aglis, but the other two had already left the city. And it was possible that there were still more samples she was unaware of. She would need to conduct a thorough sweep of the city before chasing after the couriers.

Unbeknownst to the stranger, however, she was being watched. After several moments, shadows coalesced, and a pale figure with plain clothes and a dark ponytail stepped from the darkness. Calmly, she lifted the jar, looking at the head within. As important as her sister may have been, it seemed she'd stumbled into a much more precarious situation than she'd anticipated. Reviving the head would be simple enough, but the question was, would she be ready for whatever answers it had for her?

"Crytuf Fymg." As the shadows coalesced around her, and she faded into nothingness, Korzanna muttered, mostly to herself, "Just what have I gotten myself into?"