Huan Strongarm: A Bartfort Folktale

by Vergil Creiger

In which a simple delivery to Holfort goes horribly horribly wrong.

10. Elodach the Initiate

This seems to be Bartfort's first encounter with Duchess Olivia von Alchimaira, one of the Five Generals of Invictus and the White Saint of the West. I asked about it, and it turns out she escaped the effects of the Blank. The next stretch of Strongarm's adventure should be considered to be fairly accurate, as Duchess Alchimaira is considered to have one of the best memories in the world

I considered the possibility that parts of this story were metaphorical, but it seems like she was legitimately a fairy the entire time and just didn't bring it up much.

Considering his eventual rampage through the Faelands and the events of In the Footsteps of Beowulf, it almost seemed as though Bartfort had a connection with the fae species that went beyond the coincidental.

Also, it seems that Prince Julius at some point learned his real name. He brags about it constantly but never actually writes it down, which I have mixed feelings about: on the one hand it is deeply frustrating to be denied the proof that my theories are correct, but on the other it at least proves that he can keep a secret.

Yes, I realise that Duchess Alchimaira and Queen Shirley have basically confirmed Strongarm's identity already. Mostly it's just frustrating.

Huan Strongarm: A Bartfort Folktale, by Lufas Maphaahl

Leon tripped again, swearing loudly. Iven gave him a nervous look. "Are you okay? You've been doing that a lot."

"I'm fine. My legs are still a little wobbly, that's all." Leon resisted the urge to rub the crook of his neck, where a white bandage covered the ugly wound where the UnFae had bitten a chunk out of him in Drego's hideout. "The scars should make some great conversation starters."

They had both changed into fresh clothes; Iven was wearing another clean white robe, while Leon was wearing a suit of leather armour that had been bought for him by Julius before his parents could stop him. They were walking through the palace gardens, and all around him the younger Princes and Princesses were playing with the Head Takers. Some of them were cuddling the younglings while others were riding the adults, and absolutely everyone was feeding them chocolate.

"Don't they have robes in any other colours?"

"I like white," said Iven, smoothing his robes self-consciously. "It's my colour."

"I guess that's true," Leon admitted, which got a pleased smile in return.

"Lord Leon!" called Earis. He was waiting by the palace gates next to Guts, who had finally introduced himself; Leon had learned his first name was Hernando - which he could never unhear - and vowed on the spot to never ever use it. He had actually been joking, but Leon would never figure that out. "We're ready to go!"

"Good luck out there," said Iven. "Even if you're just going to talk to this girl you should still be careful. There could be more of those things out there."

"I doubt it," he chuckled reassuringly. "Without their Queen-Mother they tend not to last long, and it's been a good twelve hours since she popped. I think we'll be fine."

Iven watched as Leon left with the guards, his smile turning slightly sad. "Is everything alright?" He was slightly startled when Queen Mylene walked up behind him, followed by a maid holding a purring young Head Taker on a pillow. "You seem a bit… lost."

"I am quite alright, Your Majesty." Iven bowed to her with surprising grace. "It's just… Leon has already been placed in great danger on my behalf. I fear that I am taking advantage of his generosity."

"That's not how it looked to me," said Mylene blithely. "It looked to me like he wanted to help you, your opinion be damned." Iven immediately became hostile.

"That's not-"

"Excuse me," she apologised. "I meant no disrespect. I simply meant that people like Leon Fou Bartfort will always act as they feel they must. You need not hold yourself accountable for his actions."

Iven sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Yes. Of course, you're right. I apologise for my rudeness."

"That's quite alright." Mylene glanced at her maid out of the corner of her eye, deciding that the next subject needed to be broached with caution. "I couldn't help but notice something as he was leaving." Iven gave her a blank look, clearly uncomprehending. "In the structure of your face."

The blood drained from his face, alarming the Queen while shocking and confusing the maid. "Please don't tell anyone," he whispered.

"Whoa!" Mylene blurted, dropping the queenly facade as she began to panic. "I'm sorry! Please don't cry!" The maid began looking between them in confusion as the Queen desperately comforted him, the Head Taker in her arms chirruping in concern. "I promise you, nobody knows but me!"

Iven had calmed down, but was still sniffling slightly. "Please don't tell anyone," he begged again. "I'll do anything you want."

"You have nothing to worry about," promised Mylene. "I won't tell a soul." Despite how old he looked, something about the man stirred her motherly instincts. "I take it Leon doesn't know, does he?"

"No," admitted Iven. "And if I have my way he'll never know."

"Is that such a terrible thought?" Mylene asked gently. "He would understand. He wouldn't judge you."

"Yes he would," Iven insisted. "This face, this body… it didn't come from any curse. It came from exposure, from starvation, from… other things. Things I don't want to talk about. If he knew what I was, what I'd been through to turn me into… into what I am now, then he'd… he'd never look at me the same."

Mylene just looked at him with sad, compassionate eyes. "Alright then," she said softly. "How about we go have some tea, okay?"

Iven took a deep shuddering breath, then gave her a shaky smile. "Okay."

The maid looked down at the infant Head Taker as they walked away. "Did you get any of that?"

"Nope," its eyes seemed to say.

"Yeah, me neither."

When they arrived in the marketplace it was already back to full bustle, the only signs of the bloodbath being the place where the Queen-Mother had damaged the pavement with her immense weight. Although she had lost since dissipated along with the rest of the dead UnFae, a few merchants were still selling lumps of smelly green flesh as aphrodisiacs.

"Those are fake, right?" asked Guts.

"Definitely."

"Should we break it up?"

"Probably."

None of them did anything to stop it. They were all still sore from the previous day, and simply had no fucks left to give. They were here for a walk in the woods and a chat with a fairy, and gosh darn it that was all they were going to do!

The Warhorse was waiting for them alongside a few of the adult Head Takers, who had chosen to leave their offspring at the palace while they explored the unfamiliar territory. They were accompanied by Pippin, Gorbus, Casca and her friend Judeau; while Rickert wouldn't be accompanying them he had taken it upon himself to sort out their luggage, and his face lit up when they approached.

"Are you really going to see a fairy?" he asked excitedly. Leon's smile immediately became strained.

"Apparently," he grumbled. "If Jarl is telling the truth, which seems to be the case."

"You already knew about this girl, right?" Casca remarked. "What's she like?"

Leon had to think for a moment. "A protagonist," he said eventually. "She's like a protagonist."

This seemed to throw her for a loop. "A what?"

"It's the best I've got. Bear in mind I've never actually met the girl, so this is entirely subjective." He helped Rickert with his preparations, and soon the boy was waving goodbye as they set off for the city gates. Leon found himself walking beside Pippin. "So, your first name is Theodore?"

"It is."

"Can I call you Teddy?"

"Not if you value your life."

They followed Jarl's directions and entered the woods, soon finding themselves far off the beaten path. He spotted one of Zane's men watching them through the trees, but he left after Leon caught his eye and discreetly shook his head.

"Oh for- I know you guys are following me!"

Julius and Jilk tripped and fell from their shared hiding spot; they had been peeking around a tree, and - credit where credit was due - Jilk's hair blended in perfectly with the leaves. "How did you know we were here?"

"I told you, those massive cloaks make you a million times more visible!" Leon snapped. "Also they make you look fat!"

This was enough for Jilk to tear off his cloak and throw it on the ground. They sort of got the sense that he hated it from the start but just didn't have the guts to say it to the Prince's face.

"Lord Leon?" Earis asked nervously. "Should you really be talking to the Crown Prince like that?"

"Why the hell not?" he demanded. "Someone needs to call this fool on his bullshit! If they wear those things in a combat situation and get themselves killed, that means everyone who encouraged them is an accessory to regicide!" He blinked, wondering if it still counted as regicide if he were only a prince and not a king.

"Also he's right," Guts remarked. "They look really, really dumb."

Leon turned back to the two morons. "Am I going to have to tell your Mom about this?"

Julius gave him a suspicious look. "Are you only saying that so you have an excuse to hit on her again?"

"Clearly I am!"

"Just let them tag along," said Judeau blithely. "We were very clearly seen leaving the city without them, so we won't be held responsible for them following us. Besides, you were the one who said that this mission didn't have any danger."

"SHOULD," Leon corrected. "I said that there SHOULD be no danger. Contrary to popular belief, I am, occasionally, wrong."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

Leon was getting the feeling that everyone had already decided that they were coming along and were just waiting for him to catch up. "Well, off the top of my head, the last time they were left unsupervised they picked a fight with a heavily armed nobleman along with his entire hunting party. Tell 'em, horsey!"

The Warhorse whinnied in agreement.

"So nothing threatening," said Guts boredly. Leon gave an inward, fanboyish squeal and wondered if it would be too much if he asked for an autograph. "They're here now, and it would set us back if we took them home. Given the damage those things did to the market and the Keep, I think we want this information as fast as we can get it."

Leon's face twisted. He desperately, desperately didn't want to encourage this sort of behaviour, but Guts had a point. Also it couldn't be overstated how big a fan he was of his home manga, instilling in him a compulsive need to agree with everything he said.

Why yes, Cap'n Guts! The sky is neon pink! Excellent observation!

"Fine!" he spat. "But I want it on record that I think this is a bad idea!" He stormed off into the trees, and everyone (even the Warhorse) rolled their eyes.

"His name isn't actually horsey, right?" Julius clarified, jogging a little to match Leon's stride. Jilk no longer bothered, and was hanging back so as to ask Judeau about the logistics of using throwing knives as a primary weapon.

"It is not. I don't know his real name." The Prince's face lit up. "We're not naming him."

"But why?"

"Because he's a Warhorse!" Leon saw that he didn't get it. "If you try to give a name to a Warhorse when they already have one, they'll kill you!"

This particular bit of lore was actually a game mechanic; while it was entirely possible for most tamed monsters to be renamed, trying to do so to a Warhorse would result in it instantly attacking you. Because the protagonist - Olivia - had the defence of wet tissue paper, Leon had learned firsthand that this was an instant death sentence. For reference, he had been trying to rename it Suplex McKenzie.

"But if he doesn't have a name, wouldn't that make it okay?"

"If you're so brave then you name him!"

Julius looked at the Warhorse. The Warhorse looked back. "Go ahead," his eyes seemed to say. "See what happens."

"I don't think I will."

"Probably wise."

"While we're on the subject of names," said Gorbus, rudely elbowing his way between them. "I'm going to need you to stop using my first name."

Leon gave him a sidewalk glance, immediately tripping over a root. The trees were much bigger here, their serpentine roots taking up much of the ground. The foliage was blocking much of the sunlight, and the bird cries were becoming fewer and far between. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? Have you really not noticed that every guard in Holfort refers to every other guard by their surnames?"

Leon blinked and looked at Julius, who seemed just as confused as he was. "I had, actually. Why is that?"

"Because it's bad luck! Look at what happened to Gaston!"

"Why? What happened to Gaston?"

"He runs a clothing store!"

Everyone except Leon, the idiots and the Warhorse flinched, as if this were a dire fate to be avoided at all cost.

"Well what about Rickert?" Leon demanded. "You call him by his first name!"

"Rickert isn't a full guard yet," explained Casca. "One day he will grow into a full fledged Williams, but not today."

Leon remembered how Rickert looked in the later parts of the Berserk manga, and how he sort of looked like Judeau; he mentally compared Judeau and Williams to Pokemon with alternate evolutions like Eevee. "Fine. If this really that big a deal then I'll call you Corkus. Far be it from me to judge another man for his belief system."

"Thank you," nodded Corkus. "We don't mind what you call Griffith, by the way. The curse doesn't affect you if you're from the same hometown."

This seemed to remind Julius of something, as he pulled up beside Earis as they crossed a shallow stream. "You're the one he mentioned, right?"

"Yes, Your Highness," he nodded respectfully. "Lieutenant Earis Griffith, at your service sir."

"Your sword is very well made. Did you have it custom made?"

"It's an heirloom, sir." Earis glanced at Leon, but decided that there was really no point in hiding his identity anymore. That ship had sailed. "The sword was made by Lord Leon's ancestors for my own as thanks for bravery in battle. The whole reason he is in Holfort is to deliver it to me."

"Does it have a name?"

"A… name, sir?"

"Yeah! A name!" Julius smiled brightly. "I'm still coming up with one for mine!"

"Call it Perseverance," grunted Leon. He didn't bother looking over his shoulder as everyone gave him surprised looks; it was what the weapon was called in the game, so why not?

"Perseverance…" said Julius slowly. "I like that… yeah!"

"What about mine?" asked Earis. "I don't think the sword has ever been named."

Shit! Originality! His one weakness!

"Once," he said thoughtfully. "Two monsters attacked the Bartfort territory. One of them was a manticore, the other was a chimaera. That sword was used to kill them both. Call it Lionslayer."

Earis placed his hand thoughtfully on the hilt of his sword. He vowed then and there to one day use it to kill a lion monster of his own.

Their ears began to ring with a great roaring sound. They had arrived at a natural ledge overlooking a gorgeous waterfall, which was adorned with little rainbows born from the scraps of sunlight that made it through the trees. The ledge was wide enough to camp on, and was surrounded by plants and flowers of all varieties. Opposite the waterfall was a great tree with incredible red leaves, standing upon a tapestry of interwoven roots.

"Whoa!" Julius whispered. He looked at the beautiful place, attempting to drink in as much as he possibly could. "Has this place been right next to my home this whole time? And I never knew?"

"It's like paradise," mused Guts. "I'd always imagined that if I made it into Heaven then it would look like this."

"Everyone take a load off," said Leon. "But keep an eye out just in case."

The group began to settle down and enjoy the morning air, with Earis, Guts and Pippin keeping watch. A baby deer stumbled out of the trees and began sniffing at one of the Head Takers, who curiously sniffed back.

Leon sat himself by the entangled roots, waiting until nobody was paying him any attention. Discreetly, he pulled the axe from his hip. "Keep an eye out," he murmured. "Keep an eye out for anyone who might be watching us. That Queen-Mother came from somewhere, and I don't want them turning this girl into another."

The axe hummed in agreement before he threw it upward; the Warhorse had been standing close enough to listen in, and began slowly patrolling around the camp with his eyes on the trees.

"Olivia? Can you hear me?"

It was a long time before someone replied, their soft voice coming from beyond the roots at his back. "Yes," came the furtive whisper. "Why are we whispering?"

Her voice was sweet and melodious. It also sounded exactly like a certain voice actress, banishing his last tentative hope that there were two blonde, short haired, mind controlling healers named Olivia. Just his luck.

"We were attacked by an UnFae yesterday." He could tell from the sharp intake of breath that she knew what that meant. "A Queen-Mother. With direction. Someone made her, and I really don't want them finding you too."

There was a very long silence. One of the Head Takers waddled up to him, and he made a show of smiling and rubbing under its chin. "Are you still there?"

"Yes," the voice replied. "Was it in a lot of pain?"

"At first," he admitted. "But not anymore."

There was another long pause. Leon continued to pet the Head Taker as it placed its head in his lap, while Judeau pulled out a flute and began to play. "How did you know my name?"

"Jarl told me."

"Dad?" Olivia's voice immediately brightened. "Did he give you any snacks?"

"No, but I have a lot of chocolate on me right now." He pulled out one of the many treats he had squirrelled away on his person, only for the Head Taker to compulsively lick it out of his hand. Leon gave it a flat look. "That could not have been more clearly for the girl."

The Head Taker began licking his face like a big dog, its breath smelling so chocolatey that it was hard to imagine that it had been biting the heads off dwellers and UnFae less than twenty four hours earlier. Olivia giggled sweetly.

"I like your friend," she smiled. He couldn't see her face, but he could still hear the smile in her voice. "She's very beautiful."

Leon wondered internally how she could tell it was a girl. The Head Taker gave him a sarcastic look, and he was keenly aware that these creatures were intelligent enough to realise that he was struggling with their genders. "She is beautiful," he agreed. "In fact her whole species is really sweet."

The Head Taker was suddenly back to being extremely affectionate, nuzzling into his cheek and crooning lovingly. Leon smiled and stroked her while Olivia laughed softly. "May I ask why you're here?" she asked quietly. "If you wanted to keep someone from making more UnFae, surely leading them straight to you would be a touch counterintuitive."

Damn she was eloquent. "We actually came here for two reasons. The first was to see how many fairies are in the area. If whoever did this has a way to reliably make UnFae then it's best if they have as small a pool of potential victims as possible."

"That should be fine." There was a rustle of movement behind the curtain of roots, as though Olivia were moving so that her back was to him. "I'm the only fairy on the landmass. The portal within my home is long since sealed, so no fairies besides me may arrive."

Judeau had moved on to a merry jig, which Corkus had begun cheerfully dancing along to. He was surprisingly talented. "Does that mean that you can't return to the Faelands?"

"No," she said coldly. "And even if I could, I wouldn't. I will never, ever, ever go back."

Leon closed his eyes and swore under his breath. He desperately wanted to avoid the future saviour of the country becoming an UnFae. "That's… Okay, but maybe you should lay low for a while. Just in case. Even if Jarl comes to visit, don't let anyone in. I really, really don't want anything to happen to you."

Olivia stayed silent for a minute. "Thank you," she said bashfully. "You're really nice."

"Trust me, I'm not," laughed Leon dryly. The Warhorse perked its ears and began paying attention to a certain spot in the foliage, and seconds later the Head Takers followed suit. Earis caught his eye, and after a discreet nod he began mobilising the guards into a defensible perimeter. "The UnFae were hunting down a homeless man called Iven. Do you know why?"

"No, but-"

"Okay, thank you," he interrupted. "Get away from the entrance and stay quiet. No matter what happens, don't make a sound." He rose to his feet, noting that the dense, leafy ceiling would make it difficult for the axe to back him up. He clenched his gauntleted fists, already able to see someone approaching through the trees. "Judeau. Green. Get ready to shoot."

"Yessir," muttered the guard, discreetly drawing a small knife and palming it in his hand. Jilk took up position next to Julius and the other guards, one hand resting threateningly on his firearm.

The man was wearing the ceremonial black robes of the Temple, the red collar identifying him as a lowly Initiate. His head was shaved and tattooed with a chain of red diamonds, which began between his eyes and extended over his dome to end at a huge red circle bisected by a vertical line at the back of his head. More tattoos of blue lines covered his temples, curling like waves around his ears.

None of these features served to distinguish him from any other low level religious figure. He looked like he drank too much and didn't get enough sleep, but aside from that he looked like any other mob character you could see tooling around the cathedral. Leon's hackles rose.

"Greetings," he smarmed. This was a man who considered himself to be the primary villain. "How are you all doing today?"

"Who the hell are you?" Leon growled, and the wannabe chuckled in a gloating fashion.

"Weren't you all-knowing?" he mocked. "Shouldn't you already know?"

Leon deliberately gave him his most antagonistic and infuriating smirk. "I know you're nobody. And I know that your face is so generic even your own mother couldn't pick you out of a crowd."

The man bristled. The problem with being egomaniacal meant it was very obvious that your ego was your weak spot. "Worthless fool!" he spat. "I am-"

"Bald?" Leon guessed, then slammed his fist on his palm as though he'd cracked the code. "Wearing a dress!"

The man's face turned scarlet as a few people laughed at him. "Insolent pleb! You have no idea what I have in store!"

"I'm guessing UnFae in the trees," said Leon dispassionately. "You don't look creative enough for anything new."

The priest glowered resentfully, but nevertheless barked an order over his shoulder. Two shivering UnFae stumbled slowly from the trees, their lidless eyes staring at him with a nightmarish lack of human emotion.

The mocking smile fell from Leon's lips as he saw the infant Head Taker that one of them was holding in its hands. "You fucking bastard," he whispered. Even his allies flinched. "You worthless little shit streak. I'm going to crush your head under my fucking foot."

"Not so cocky now, are you?" The man was trying and failing to hide how badly Leon was intimidating him. "Where is your secret knowledge now?"

"Like I said," growled Leon. "I don't know any nobodies."

The man's boring, generic eyes burned with butthurt, generic rage. "Know my name, trash! I am Elodach, Master of Nightmares, and I am and forever will be your better!"

"Elodach?" Vaguely, Leon remembered the name. "Elodach the Initiate?" The name had popped up in a side quest, although he had never appeared in person. "Shouldn't you be off starting a holy war with the Blood Lake Monastery right now?"

This made a few of the guards do a double take. The priest's eyes narrowed dangerously. "How do you know about that?"

"The UnFae were after Iven," he mumbled, turning the thought over in his head. "Iven's curse was meant to hide him from the Bad Taste, but the dragon lives on the border with Fanoss. It's only been a few days since I broke the curse, and you couldn't have possibly travelled from there to here in that time… unless you already had a means to contact it."

"Hold up!" Julius blurted. "So he's working with a dragon?"

"Either the Bad Taste gave him the UnFae or taught him to make his own," nodded Leon. "He's been looking for Iven ever since. Your little holy war scheme was probably an attempt to make an opportunity for yourself; you wanted to rise through the ranks, both to make your search easier and to satisfy your pathetic ego. You're nobody's master, Elodach. You're just an errand boy with a god complex."

He could tell from the priest's face that this had hit him where it hurt. The corner of Leon's mouth quirked upward when he saw the small, angry tears in the corners of his eyes. "You… You think you're so smart…"

"I don't, actually. But I suppose everyone looks brainy to you."

Elodach seethed in impotent silence. The only sound came from the struggling infant. "Zone of Truth!" he screamed.

A circle of light flashed around his feet, expanding outward until he, the UnFae and everyone in Leon's party was enclosed within it. Although the diameter was above average, the Miracle itself was fairly low level. They couldn't immediately figure out what Elodach was after.

"Tell me whatever secret you want me to know the least!"

"We're here to see a fairy named Olivia," said Leon. The Zone of Truth forced him to speak. "One day she's going to be one of the most powerful magic users the world has ever seen."

Everyone just stared at him. Behind her curtain of roots, Olivia's jaw dropped. "What?" said Jilk faintly.

"She's going to be the next Saint," Leon continued. He slapped his hand over his mouth just a little too late. "In a few years Fanoss is going to attack us with a God of Monsters tamed by their Princess. Olivia is going to use the Royal Family's airship to save the kingdom and absolutely everyone we know. Not only will we be helpless without her, she has the potential to be one of the most dangerous UnFae to ever live."

The priest, the UnFae, the idiots, the guards, the Head Takers and even the Warhorse stared at him in mute shock. "Wait," said Elodach slowly. "So does that mean that the Saint of legends was also-"

"Judeau!" Leon blurted. Without conscious thought, the guard threw a knife, hitting the priest in the eye. He got lucky when the blade caught on the edge of his socket, preventing it from penetrating his brain. He screamed in agony as both of the UnFae ran to his side, dropping the infant and allowing it to escape back to its parent.

Unfortunately, the two creatures tending to him weren't Elodach's only UnFae. Two more had snuck up behind them through the trees, one of them grabbing the Prince while the other grabbed his foster brother. They pressed their sharp talons into their throats, catching the guards' attention with garbled cries.

"Motherfucker!" Elodach shrieked, doubled over and clutching his face. He managed to yank out Judeau's knife, but it only made the gushing worse. "My eye! My fucking eye! You piece of-"

Leon ignored him, turning to the newcomers clutching the two idiots. "Just out of curiosity, which do you consider a higher priority: them, or him?"

"The Master, obviously," crooned the one holding Julius. It sounded a lot more stable and coherent than the newborns from the previous day; presumably it used to be a fairy, as opposed to the Queen-Mother's barely functional offspring. "The Master always comes first."

"Good to know." Leon glanced at Earis. "Take care of the kids."

His eyes widened. "Leon, whatever you're about to do-"

He sprinted at the priest before he could react, tackling him off the cliff and into the roaring river. They were carried off by the current; Elodach's screaming faded in and out of hearing as Leon kept dunking him underwater in a valiant attempt to drown him.

"Holy shit!" someone shouted. The UnFae cast their prisoners aside, leaping at unbelievable speeds between the trees as they followed the river. Leon's companions had barely gotten over their shock by the time they were out of sight.

The UnFae grabbed their master as he passed beneath a fallen tree, and because Leon had him in a deathgrip he was yanked out along with him. They threw both men onto the muddy riverbank, then violently began to kick Leon into the ground while he was bewildered and helpless.

"Ha!" Elodach coughed. He tried to rise to his feet and regain some dignity, but slipped and landed face first in the mud. He was still clutching at his punctured eye socket. "You… You look down on me? On me! The Master of Nightmares! You are just like all those fools in the church! Who mocked me! Judged me! When you are as far beneath me as the dirt is beneath the sky! But now, now Elodach shall-"

Leon locked his legs around the ankles of one of the UnFae, knocking it to the ground with a twist of his hips. He placed his palms against the ground and used his Strongarm ability to launch himself to his feet, grabbing two of the UnFae by their hair and slamming them face first into the head of the third.

With a violent spin kick he sent all three of them tumbling into the river, where they squawked helplessly as they were dragged away to parts unknown. The last UnFae had risen to its feet by this point, and slashed him across the face with its claws as he turned around; Leon barely flinched, backhanding it into the river after its friends.

In that moment - when he turned to face him with claw marks across his face and blood pouring from the wound - Elodach feared Leon more than death itself.

"Wait!" He began to stammer as Leon stalked furiously towards him. "I'm sor-"

Elodach's excuses were interrupted when Leon punched him in the face, not using Strongarm to avoid killing him. He grabbed him by his collar to hold him in place, punching him over and over and over again.

"What's wrong, jackass? Aren't you the Master of Nightmares? Or have you decided that's not pretentious enough for you?"

Leon did not appreciate him going after Olivia.

He didn't appreciate him going after Iven.

He didn't appreciate being chased across the city by UnFae.

He didn't appreciate what Elodach must have done to create those UnFae.

And he really, really didn't appreciate it when he took a child hostage.

"Why aren't you doing anything?"

Crunch.

"Aren't you supposed to be strong?"

Crunch.

"Aren't you supposed to be a big deal?"

Crunch.

"Aren't you better than me?"

Crunch.

"Do something."

Crunch.

"Do something."

Crunch.

"Do something."

Crunch.

"Shtop!" Elodach sobbed, his face now ruined beyond all recovery. "Pleash, ah won do id again!"

Leon slowly lowered his fist, glaring down at him with utter contempt in his eyes. "I should kill you now," he whispered. "So you can never hurt anyone again."

Elodach just cried.

"But you're not worth it." His voice was a hiss, and the hiss cut deeper than any blade. "You're not worth the air you breathe. The dirt where you sit. The filth you shit out. You're less than nothing. You're pathetic, and weak, and nobody will ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever love you."

Leon dropped him into the mud, where he just curled up and wept. He knew, intellectually, that he should kill him, but he just wasn't a murderer. There may have been circumstances where he would have gone through with it, but this just wasn't it.

He would, however, break his legs. Just in case.

Just as his foot landed on Elodach's knee, the priest's body exploded with light. Leon was blown backward into a tree, his vision swimming as his head cracked against the bark. His spine ached in protest, adding to the little aches and pains in his arms and legs; they had lingered since he exhausted himself against the horde of UnFae the previous day. His ankles had been in agony since they started walking, and his shoulders since the struggle in the water.

When the light faded he saw that Elodach's wounds had entirely healed, and even his hair had grown back; it was black, greasy and hung to his shoulders, though Leon could still see the red tattoo between his eyes. He gingerly placed his hand on the ground and tried to push himself to his feet, only for the earth to rupture beneath him.

Leon had instant flashbacks of Dracula Untold, cursing under his breath. He rose tiredly to his feet, muttering a series of strengthening spells on all four of his limbs.

"I see," whispered Elodach, having come to the same conclusion as Leon. "I have ascended. I have been chosen! I… I am a semi-immortal!"

For once he was right. A semi-immortal was an impossibly rare occurrence wherein the mind became aware of the soul, linking it to the body and causing it to regenerate endlessly. Either by sheer fluke or through some actual talent (gag!) Elodach had somehow gotten a Shounenesque Deus ex Machina. He now had super strength, super speed, and super healing, while Leon was injured, alone and still tired from the previous day.

Fuck. Fuck!

"I always knew it," the priest was whispering breathlessly. "That I was special! That I had a destiny far beyond the puny simpletons that birthed me! I, Elodach, was born with but one purpose: to rule!"

Leon discreetly rose to his feet, making sure his gauntlets were secure. The bastard sword was still an option, but sticking to his fists gave him a slight speed advantage. It felt worth the risk.

"Kings shall bow to me!" Elodach was saying. "Emperors shall bow to me! The Pope himself shall acknowledge how far the shadow of my greatness is cast! My superior genes will be-"

The ground exploded beneath his feet as Leon lunged forward, his strengthened legs destroying the moist earth beneath him. He punched Elodach in the face at full strength, knocking out a few teeth that immediately began to grow back. The priest clumsily lashed out, and although he now had blinding speed his movements were artless and untrained.

Leon had been expecting the stat boost and dodged the blow, punching him over and over again at unbelievable speeds. Even if his opponent now had superior base stats, Leon was still the more skilled and experienced fighter. He danced around Elodach with his fists up like a boxer, using Strongarm to strike faster than he could dodge. It felt, for a moment, like he could win.

He was getting more tired by the second. The exhaustion from the previous day was like a thick tar around his joints, and every muscle in his arms screamed with each use of Strongarm. His arms were on fire. His legs were on fire. Every joint he had was on fire.

If this came down to a war of attrition, Leon would lose. Unfortunately, it was also one of only two ways in which a semi-immortal could be defeated. They did not simply heal their wounds nor grow back their limbs indefinitely; doing so required a great deal of energy, both physical and magical.

It could not be overstated how badly the body and soul were sapped for each scrap of healing, with fatigue quickly setting in if you just attacked their non-vitals first so as to force them to regenerate. It was said that - hypothetically - if a normal person were to become a semi-immortal, they would not have enough stamina to grow back even a single finger.

And Elodach was as normal as they came. Already his body was eating itself, his skin shrinking over his bones as his body cannibalised his flesh, muscles and body fat to sustain itself. Leon grinned in vindictive spite.

The second weakness of semi-immortals was their heads: due to their power originating from the union of mind and soul, destroying their heads would halt them in their tracks.

Sheer fluke let Elodach block his left hook, so Leon jabbed him in the throat with his right hand instead. As he fell back choking, Leon grabbed him by the shoulder and headbutted him in the face; then he did it again, and again and again and again.

For a moment, both men just stood there as they blinked the stars from their eyes.

Leon recovered first, punching Elodach in the testicles before kneeing him in the gut. The priest folded like wet cardboard, gasping for air and violently soiling himself. Just like he did to the UnFae in Drego's hideout, Leon picked him up by his waist and nape before slamming him into a tree trunk like battering ram.

Unlike the UnFae, Elodach at least managed to get his hands up in time to protect his head. He was neither unconscious nor dead even after three good hits, and Leon was forced to drop him out of exhaustion.

Elodach squawked as he landed unceremoniously into the mud. "How dare you!" he spat. He tried to stand up, but kept slipping and landing on his face. "Your efforts mean nothing! I am-"

"Shut up!" Leon snapped. He had caught his breath, grabbing Elodach by his ankle and swinging him hard into a tree. "For once in your life, just shut up!" This tired him out even more than the battering ram thing, and after a few good swings he found the priest slipping from his grasp. For a moment he blinked in weary confusion, trying to remember what he had been doing.

He only became more dazed when Elodach clouted him over the back of the head, having regained his bearings. Leon must have reduced his stamina more than he thought, because a blow like that from a semi-immortal would have normally torn his head off.

He still had enough strength to grab Leon by the throat and slam him into a tree; his eyes stung shut from the blood still leaking from the claw marks on his face, and it was all he could do to bring up his armoured fists to defend as Elodach rained blows on his face.

"How dare!" he spat, almost enraged beyond the point of words. "How… dare!"

He finally stopped when Leon kicked him in the nuts, his legs still strengthened enough to send the priest flying back through the air. Leon gave a garbled cry, the agony in his ankles and forearms almost too much to bear.

Elodach dragged himself to his feet, his face streaked with snot and tears and his clothes ruined by blood and mud. "Why?" he sobbed. "Why are you doing this?"

Leon just gave him an incredulous look. "What kind of a stupid fucking question is that?"

With scream the semi-immortal lunged, his fists bouncing off Leon's gauntlets. When the shock transmitted to his arms became too painful he switched to dodging, then brutally uppercutted him in the chin. Elodach's tongue was bitten off entirely, but he had enough juice left in him to grow it back.

The two of them staggered apart, each as exhausted as the other. Leon was in so much pain that his vision was starting to blur. "I don't… suppose… that was… enough… to shut… you up…" he wheezed.

Elodach just hiked up his robe, revealing his gross, hairy ankles. He had a small pouch strapped to his leg; in it was a vial of luminous green liquid, he yanked it out and guzzled it greedily. Instantly his body returned to its previous healthy state, his body expanding as its fat and muscle were restored.

"An elixir!" Elodach sneered, his smug expression implying that drinking this made him very clever in some way. "Fully recovering my magic and physical body alike! It is doubly effective for an almighty semi-immortal such as myself!"

Leon just stood there in helpless disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me!"

Elodach kicked him hard in the face, sending him stumbling back as blood spurted from his broken nose. He must have torn something; as soon as he lowered his leg he yelped and clutched at his crotch.

Between the claw marks and the broken nose, Leon's face was a mess. He could barely see through all the blood, though at least it took his mind off his aching limbs. "Don't be such a wimp," he couldn't resist saying. "We both know that there's nothing down there to tear."

Elodach lunged at him, snatching a rock up off the ground. He slammed it hard into Leon's mouth, and unfortunately he was too tired to dodge; blood spurted from his mouth, and a few teeth were sent flying into the river. Leon felt whiplash as a second strike shattered the stone against his face, forcing Elodach to turn the third strike into a slap.

Against any other semi-immortal, any one of those blows would have taken his head off; presumably, Leon had done so much damage with his initial assault that Elodach hadn't been able to regain the strength and speed he had possessed earlier. Leon spat the blood out of his mouth and glared. Ever so slightly, Elodach shrank back.

He grabbed Leon by the face and slammed him back into a tree; he slid down the trunk, his cough tasting like iron. This time when Elodach grabbed a branch off the ground he was able to bring his gauntlets up to block, the wood shattering against the armour plating.

Leon staggered to his feet, giving the semi-immortal a cold stare. The more Elodach ruined his face, the more frightening he looked. He raised his fists, the pain in his limbs having actually faded slightly after the short sit down.

"That it?"

Elodach attacked him out of blind terror, unleashing a barrage of blows at vicious speeds. Between his enhanced physiology and his own exhaustion, Leon was utterly incapable of fighting back; he began to slide backward through the mud, until his back was once again against the tree. He was slowly forced down under the onslaught, until he was crouched and huddled into a ball.

"Pathetic!" Elodach screamed, his voice shrill with fear. "Cower! Weep! Despair! And know that you are nothing before my might!"

It was then that Leon finished recasting his strengthening spells. His body uncoiled like a spring, the force from his legs kicking the ground adding to the weight of his punch. Combined with Strongarm, Elodach barely saw his fist fly before it hit him in the face: the terrific force lifted him off his feet, his feet skipping a few times over the grass bed he hobbled to a wobbly halt.

The priest had lapsed into shocked silence, bent over with his nose almost flattened against his face. He coughed and hacked as blood streamed from his nose and mouth; Leon desperately wanted to take advantage of the opening, but he stopped to catch his breath instead.

"What… are… you…"

Break over.

Back to work.

The sound of the following punch echoed for miles, scaring the skin off of Leon's friends as they frantically tried to track him down. Elodach's entire body spun in place: his ears rang, his vision swam, and he became dimly aware that he was lying on his front. He felt the soft moss against his cheek, wondering absentmindedly where it all went wrong.

Leon grabbed him by his collar, dragging him off the collar so he could look him in the eyes. "Get up, dickhead!" he snarled. "I'm not done hurting you yet!"

"Please," he sobbed. "I'm sorry!"

There was another punch, sending him flying a second time. Once again, Leon dragged him up by his collar. "I said get up!" This time the punch sent him straight through a tree, which fell into the river and partially diverted it. Again, Leon dragged him up. "Don't tell me: is fighting not fun anymore when the other guy fights back?"

Elodach pulled out a gun hidden in his right sleeve, which he had awkwardly manoeuvred into his palm with one hand. He pointed it at his head and pulled the trigger, but Leon was able to grab his wrist at the last second.

The revolver fired once then clicked uselessly, as Elodach hadn't properly closed the cylinder after loading it; the cylinder fell open, dropping the remaining bullets onto their chests. The priest scrabbled to grab them, then crammed them into his mouth for want of a better idea.

Leon staggered back - trying desperately not to swallow any - before Elodach clocked him hard in the jaw. His mouth slammed shut, and the ammunition went off.

Five different gunshots went off simultaneously inside his head, the flash of gunpowder shining through his face in the split second before it was blown apart. Elodach cringed back and covered his head instinctively, but was still able to see the small waterfall of blood creating a black pool around Leon's feet. He peeped out from behind his hands, then immediately threw up.

Leon barely had a face. On top of his shattered nose his cheeks were now gone, having been blown across the clearing by the blast. The teeth that hadn't been blown out of his gums were exposed to the open air, and trails of gunsmoke were leaking demonically from his mouth.

Still he met Elodach's gaze, his eyes framed by the blood oozing from UnFae's claw marks. The ruined remains of his tongue licked at the phantom of his lips. He spoke to Elodach with his eyes, and his voice was the voice of nightmares.

"I did not appreciate that."

The semi-immortal lunged with a strangled cry, but a single right hook was all it took to bring him down. Elodach's back cracked unpleasantly as he hit a tree, falling flat on his face and staying there. Leon felt the world tilt, dropping sideways onto the wet ground.

He had no idea if he passed out or for how long, but the next thing he remembered was Earis and the guards shouting at him from the other side of the river. He heard them as if from a great distance, but their voices grew louder and louder as his faculties returned. He groaned, but had just enough energy to pull himself to his feet.

They went dead silent when he turned to face them, his horrific face robbing them of all words. But even if coherent speech was beyond him, he still found it in him to express himself.

When he punched the sky with his gauntleted fist, they knew exactly what he wanted to say.

"I won."

"We should definitely hang out with this guy more," Guts remarked. "He seems okay."

Earis gave him an odd look. "Why is that yourLEON LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!"

Elodach cracked him over the back of his head with the butt of his revolver. Leon reeled with a choked noise of agony, and as he turned to punch him he was shot in the thigh. He collapsed as the semi-immortal laughed.

"Spare bullets," he gloated. "I keep them with my elixir."

He kicked Leon in the gut, leaving him wheezing as the air was forced out of his lungs. The Warhorse and the a few of the larger Head Takers tried to jump across the river, but when Elodach threw up a barrier they found themselves bouncing off helplessly.

"I'm glad your friends are here. It means they can watch."

He shot Leon in his other leg, then ruthlessly stomped on his head. He began to laugh, his face euphoric. He seemed almost high on victory.

"They can watch their hero die. His story end."

He knelt down and grabbed Leon by the chin, shoving the revolver into his ruined mouth.

"Look at me. I want to see your eyes as you die."

Leon's eyes snapped into focus, instantly making him flinch. As Elodach reflexively squeezed the trigger he jerked his head to one side, causing the bullet to pass harmlessly through the space where his left cheek used to be. Leon erupted off the ground like a rabid animal, knocking the gun from his hand and pinning him to the ground.

With a gurgling snarl he rained punches on Elodach's face, his half-conscious delirium causing him to lose all thought of mercy or restraint. Strongarm was unleashed in full force as Leon forgot his usual compunctions against killing, almost hallucinating with violence and pain.

Elodach gritted his teeth, reaching into the sleeve opposite the one that had contained his revolver. "Let's see you get up from this, Strongarm!"

He covered his eyes with his free hand as he tossed the flash bang into Leon's face, earning a roar of agony as he was blinded by an impossibly bright explosion of light. The idiots, the Warhorse, guards and Head Takers screamed and cringed as their vision left them, while Leon's punch missed its mark and cratered the ground next to Elodach's head.

Leon was kicked into the air, landing on his feet with a stagger. He instinctively brought his gauntlets up to block, and in the world of white he found himself in he was helpless to defend from the barrage of blows. Hunched behind his guard and dying of blood loss, Leon did the only thing that made sense.

He punched.

Like duelling machine guns they attacked, their fists crashing into the chests and faces of the other. Elodach still had his vision, a more intact body and the modicum of strength he still got from his status as a semi-immortal. Leon was exhausted, his body was failing, he was dizzy from the blood lost through his horrific face wounds and his retinas had been permanently and irreparably destroyed.

But he still had his gauntlets, his Strongarm and his will to fight. He was a better fighter by a mile, and his nightmarish tenacity was shredding Elodach's morale. There was no sight, and due to the tinnitus from the flash bang there was no sound either. There was just him, his fists, a phantom ringing and the world of white.

Being a bit further away, Leon's companions survived the flash bang a little more gracefully. As their vision returned they looked across the bank, where Leon and Elodach were throwing hands with no concern at all for avoiding hits. There were no more tricks, no clever fighting. Just violence, and a rabid devotion to putting the other man in the ground.

Guts was the first one to see the marks: two long grooves left in the dirt, accurately marking the path of Elodach's heels as he was pushed back through the mud. Leon's feet had left small craters where he had sprung forward, each lunge leaving a new scar as he pushed Elodach further and further back.

He wasn't even defending now, just begging for his life as Leon beat him to within an inch of his life. Of course, he couldn't hear a word the priest said.

Elodach tripped abruptly and fell on his ass; Leon furiously punched at the spot where his head used to be, shattering a tree and sending it crashing to the ground. He continued to swing, screaming inarticulately, until finally he realised that he wasn't connecting with anything. He turned around, and his allies finally realised he couldn't see.

Then they noticed his left arm. Julius and Jilk turned and puked, and one by one the guards followed suit. Only Guts and Pippin were able to look at him without flinching.

The human forearm consisted of two bones: the radius and the ulna. While the ulna is longer the radius is shorter and thicker, which was why it had better survived the stress of Leon's Strongarm. His left ulna has completely snapped during the onslaught, the sharpened length of bone piercing out of his elbow. After a few moments of swaying woozily in place, Leon became vaguely aware of the unsettling feeling in his arm.

A detached part of his brain acknowledged the immense strain he had placed on his body, partly from the struggle with Elodach but also from the clash with the UnFae the previous day. He could feel a tingling in his ankles and right forearm, and realised the same sensation could be felt on the broken tip jutting out of his elbow.

Leon had reached his limit.

Without sight or sound, it was only the shifting of the air that alerted him to Elodach's attack. He raised his right gauntlet to block as the priest brought a large rock down with a shriek, only for it to shatter against his armour. Leon felt both his legs break at once, the shattered tibia of each ankle exploding through his flesh in a shower of gore before embedding in the earth.

Leon gingerly tried to lift one foot, but found himself stuck in the ground like a tent pole. Never before had a man been so lucky to be in shock.

Leon reached out with his remaining arm, grabbing Elodach by his hair. "Gah!" he squawked. "What are you doing? Don't you know when you've lost?"

Having not heard a word, Leon raised his left elbow and jabbed the sharp length of bone into Elodach's throat. His voice cut off with a gurgle, and Leon knew he had scored a hit when he felt the warm gout of blood land on his face.

With a bestial snarl, Elodach jabbed his hand into Leon's gut, tearing through his flesh and ripping out a random organ. This he actually felt, screaming with pain and fury as he drew back his remaining fist.

His shoulder locked in place, and Leon froze. His ability, Strongarm, which allowed him to freely rotate his shoulders, had left him.

And he had absolutely no idea why.

Elodach growled and snapped off the bone that still jutted from his throat, bringing him out of his funk. Leon placed him in a headlock with his remaining arm, taking care to balance on his ruined legs. The shorter length of the jutting bone meant he could now jam it straight into the priest's spinal column, wedging it between the semi-immortal's vertebrae.

Elodach went limp as the signals from his brain cut off, very nearly causing him to lose his balance. Leon released him from the headlock and groped along his neck with his free hand, digging his fingers into the wound. With a last grunt of exertion he tore Elodach's head clean off, allowing it to roll into the bushes as the barrier over the river winked out.

Leon tipped backward: because his legs were still embedded in the ground his flesh was ripped away from his bones in a goretastic shower of blood and meat, his feet and tibia bones standing proudly where he had left them. With the last of his strength he turned on his side and puked, managing through some miracle not to anticlimactically choke to death.

He knew, even without seeing, that Elodach was already regenerating. He didn't know why, as the immense strain he had placed on his stamina should have neutered the semi-immortal's healing factor completely, but the fact that his body hadn't just eaten itself set off warning bells.

After all, the only surefire way to kill a semi-immortal was to destroy its head, and his head was the only part of Elodach he had left intact. And if a semi-immortal was left alive, sooner or later they would awaken their Takent.

A Talent was like a Quirk. A Stand. A Semblance. It was an ability totally unique to the semi-immortal that was available more or less as soon as they awakened. The reason Elodach had gone down so easily was because he was a fairly mediocre human being, but if he awakened a Talent that offered high destructive potential with little effort - say, the ability of Purple Haze - then it would take a lot more lives than just his own to put him down.

The others had crossed the river, crowding around him and recoiling at his hideous wounds.

"Is he dead?"

"Oh my god! OH MY GOD!"

"What do I tell his dad? WHAT DO I TELL HIS MOM?"

Although he couldn't hear or see them, Leon knew they were there. Desperately, he tried to talk. "Head," he kept trying to say. "Head!" It came out too garbled to make out, and at first they thought he was just coughing for air.

The Warhorse got it first; he glanced around for Elodach's head, but the four UnFae had already slunk out of the shadows to retrieve it.

The axe had been noticeably absent throughout the entire escapade, having struggled to make out what was going on down on the forest floor. When the Warhorse and the Head Takers pursued the UnFae into the trees, it made the unfortunate decision to stay and watch over Leon; if it had just helped to finish Elodach off, then a great deal of bloodshed and heartbreak might have been avoided.

Leon felt soft hands on his face, the ringing in his ears fading as his hearing returned. "Mr Leon?" The voice came from Olivia, somehow more soothing than the healing magic she was pouring into his skull. His face itched, but didn't heal. "That's your name, isn't it? Mr Leon?"

"No," he tried to say. "Run. It's dangerous."

"Of course I won't run!" Her voice had become slightly shrill. At first he thought she was disgusted by his face, but he knew as he felt his consciousness sinking into the murk that he was dying. "Mr Leon, stay awake! You have to stay awake!"

"Run," Leon mumbled, praying she could understand him. "Don't let him get you. Run. Hide. Run…"

"Why?" Olivia demanded, and he could tell from her voice that he had made her cry. "Why should I? Why should I abandon you to save myself?"

Leon sleepily placed his hand on hers, pressing her palm against what was left of his cheek. He wanted it to be the last thing he ever felt. "You're more important. Please. Run."

Her voice was now too muffled for him to make out. Like she was too far away. Like he was sinking underwater. Like… well, like he was dying.

"Olivia," he whispered. "Run."

It was the last thing he said as the comfortable dark took him. He floated in the pleasant void, and was beset by a curious sensation that he could only describe as three pairs of arms embracing him at once.

He had enough of his faculties left for two thoughts: gratitude that he had died before the pain truly hit him, and bitter miserable self-loathing for making Olivia cry. He wished that he could have done better. That he hadn't failed. But maybe this was all a mob could do. Fail.

Then he slept, and dreamed of a dark hall where a skeletal figure on a dark throne welcomed him with open arms.

Quest: Elodach the Initiate

Summary: another early side quest from Summoner, the mission is as fiddly as it is counterintuitive. The player encounters Jerve the Elder in the most out of the way corner of one of the most out of the way locations in the game. He tells you that some dude named Elodach has been acting strangely, forcing you to go back and forth between a random beggar while bribing him with more and more money each time. Eventually he reveals that Elodach is trying to start a holy war with the neighbouring theocracy of Iona, evidently in a shortsighted attempt to climb the Temple's ranks.

There is a Let's Play of this game on the LParchive by Gildiss, and despite otherwise being fairly comprehensive he skips this quest entirely. Yes, it's that annoying. No, Elodach does not at any point appear in person. He's less than a side character but more than a mob, existing in an odd limbo in between.

In the Summoner version of this quest, Elodach's plan was to steal the Feather of Urath and pin the theft on the Monks of Iona. Urath is the god that his Temple worships, and of course doesn't exist in this setting. The equivalent artefact would be the Holy Staff: I would imagine that Elodach's quest would be available from the start, but became mandatory after Olivia found the other two artefacts. If the quest was already completed then she wouldn't need to retrieve the Staff, and the Temple would hand it over straight away.

Fun Fact #1: The fight with Elodach was heavily influenced by Baki the Grappler, particularly Baki vs Zulu from the Maximum Tournament, Hanayama vs Speck from the Death Row Convicts arc and Baki vs Oliva from Son of the Ogre. In case you thought this chapter was… What did I say earlier? Goretastic, that was it.

Fun Fact #2: The concept of semi-immortals comes from a manga/light novel called Former Noble and a Single Mother. Originally, Elodach had a much smaller part. He would show up during the confrontation and kill Drego, stealing Yon's Amulet. Leon and his crew would chase him to Olivia's hidey hole, which was originally how they met her and learned she was a fairy.

Elodach's plan would have been to gather a fairy with the power of the Saint, Yon's Amulet and a third artefact not yet introduced. He would eventually succeed and use them to summon his boss: Gilgamesh from Fate, if you can believe it, who would immediately kill him and take his place as the main antagonist.

I even planned out how the final battle would go: Leon would lead an enormous boss monster out of the dungeon and sic it on him, forcing Gilgamesh to fight it in the Vimana. Leon would scale the monster as they fight and jump onto the Vimana, engaging Gilgamesh in a fist fight that ends with them falling off. The Vimana kills the boss monster by crashing into it and exploding, while Leon and Gilgamesh continue to tousle as they fall through the air. When they hit the ground Leon is ensnared by Enkidu, then insults Gilgamesh and pushes his buttons until he starts charging Ea. Leon dislocates one wrist and slips his hand free, then grabs the chain on his other hand and physically pulls himself inside the Gate of Babylon. Gilgamesh has just enough time to look shocked before Leon pokes his upper body through the Gate behind him, grabbing him around the neck and dragging him inside.

Gilgamesh drops Ea inside the Gate, which takes the form of a massive, constantly shifting, golden fortress chock full of weapons. Ea is lying on the floor and still charging, constantly bouncing from ledge to ledge as the Gate shifts. Leon and Gilgamesh fight over it, constantly grabbing the Gate's reserves of weapons from the environment until Ea goes off. Leon survives by using Gilgamesh as a human shield, while the Gate of Babylon is straight up destroyed: Leon and Gilgamesh are dumped in a field somewhere, surrounded by the weapons that survived the blast.

Gilgamesh is burned beyond recognition but still puts up a hell of a fight, the two of them continuing to yank weapons out of the ground until none are left, ending in a vicious fist fight that Gilgamesh wins but doesn't survive. It is inspired by the battle between Gilgamesh/Prototype and Hercules/Prototype, except Gilgamesh would be on the receiving end. Now that I think about it also acts as a foil to the battle between Leon and Elodach, except here Leon is the one fighting a mutilated badass who refuses to die.

The main reason I changed this was the addition of the Queen-Mother in the previous chapter, and by extension the thought experiment involving the different Darkspawn breeds. By that point I had already written myself into a corner, as I had already established that there are only three kinds of UnFae: the intelligent ones who used to be fairies, like the ones accompanying Elodach in this chapter, the Queen-Mothers, who are basically freak mutations, and the Spawn, who are mostly gibbering mutes due to having only just been born. That is why I needed Elodach to change his role. Specifically, I needed his Talent.

If there are any fans here of Fate/stay night or Campione, consider Alec from the fanfiction God Slaying Blade Works by Marcus Galen Sands. Elodach isn't particularly smart or powerful, but it's precisely because he's stupid - because he doesn't fully understand the forces he's tampering with - that he's so incredibly dangerous. In his story, Sands compares Alec to a monkey playing with a nuke because it's shiny. He also makes sure the good guys stop him before the nuke goes off.

Unfortunately, the Head Takers only know how to track underground and the Warhorse can't track at all. As soon as he figures out what his Talent is, that nuke will go off. The only question is when.

You may have noticed the delay before this chapter came out: as you've probably guessed from the above rant, that's because I've been rewriting the plot going forward. I'm not quite done yet, but eventually I should be back to normal.

In the meantime, I recommend you give God Slaying Blade Works a read if you haven't already. That Alec guy gets absolutely WRECKED!