Chapter 103: apology accepted (she's so grumpy about it)

Upper Earth Month, 8th Day, 600 AGG

Kunivela examined the painting gracing this particular corridor of Krunui's Castle. He'd seen it before, obviously, but it was a relatively recent addition: the work of half a century or so ago.

Depicted was a nine-tailed fox-like heteromorph adorned with something resembling the… 'Feathered Robe of the Celestial Maiden,' was it? The Night Lich always found that amusing; what business did a demonic spirit have wearing something associated with the denizens of certain heavens?

In the illustration, the fox had taken a form resembling humanity's rather than the monstrous shape the few remaining of her kind were known for. With closed eyes, she wielded a sable glaive of the likes he'd seen in person but once—sanguinely thrusted into the heart of a black dragon plummeting from the skies.

'I do remember hearing about that incident,' there was that brood of black dragons who had inflicted themselves upon a number of provinces within the Kepesk Empire. It wasn't a significant event, at least not for Kunivela, although he did recall the Inferno Dragon Lord being roused from his roost atop the peak of Blazespire. 'They all came to bloody ends, but that's simply the price of harboring ambition beyond one's means.'

"The Abbess of the Beggars' Temple," Kunivela glanced to his side from where the voice had come. "It's not surprising if you haven't heard of her—few outside of Kepesk do. Strange, given how people say even Voravivex gives her a wide berth; perhaps she's related to Kuryeo's king… or maybe not, if her presence is tolerated in Kepesk…"

"Anschass," he politely acknowledged the two-headed speaker. "You've met her in the past?"

"Of course not," his contemporary chuckled. "Only at a distance, but that hardly counts, does it? I'd imagine 'her' and 'us' would not make for bosom friends."

'Probably not,' Kunivela agreed. Few temples could stomach the existence of 'rogue' undead. Fewer still calamitous ones like those of Corpus. Fear was a poor basis for friendship, after all. "I shall keep your warning in mind." Not that he had anything to do in Kepesk. "Anyway, how did your meeting with That One go?"

"As well as it could," Banejieri didn't shrug, but his tone conveyed the sentiment regardless. "His anger continues to burn in the wake of Brightness Dragon Lord's disruption. Granz was his favorite, and her alleged death means the projects he dumped on her are unlikely to be finished. I think it'll be a while before he resumes his leeching, unless he somehow decides to overhaul his personality."

"So it will," for all their strength, That One's paranoia put the rest of his peers' to shame. The Night Lich supposed such a trait wasn't surprising to find in the dragon: they were an arrogant blowhard who never passed up the chance to insult the tier magic they demanded Corpus to research for him. "This is a good opportunity for us then."

Then as an afterthought, he added: "As long as we stay away from the west."

Banejieri nodded with one head while the other continued to behold the painting. "As long as we stay away from there."

There, where strange tidings saw the supplanting of one order and the installment of another. Westwards, where a star fell onto the earth: every bit the incandescent inferno one would expect given the circumstances. The news hadn't spread far among the masses yet, but it was only a matter of time. Even with their far-reaching oversight, the powers that be couldn't suppress information like this forever.

It was—a good thing. Tentatively speaking. Distracted That One. Gave Corpus of the Abyss precious time, uninterrupted time, to progress their plans of subduing the dragon who they'd foolishly pledged allegiance to.

Of course, if the same rumors held any weight, then the situation could also devolve into an unprecedented disaster for Corpus.

To put it simply, there was no conceivable future where they concurrently dealt with That One alongside the entity he feared—and considering the western region was apparently flooded with angels, the Night Lich was inclined towards caution.

"Doesn't help that we lost Granz either," Kunivela added. "Revenant of Yellow, King of Decay, Wise Wolf… our numbers have taken quite the hit."

"Elder of the Hosts is recovering too," Banejieri made a noise that sounded close to snorting. "In my honest opinion, she's better off dead. Whatever Brightness Dragon Lord did…"

The Abyss trailed off, surely thinking of the horrific effects that the Dragon Lord's spell wrought on their less fortunate colleagues. Even with his own thirst for magical knowledge, Kunivela felt an innate fear towards what had been used.

What did it mean for a person when fractured parts of them were shunted Out while still attached to what was In?

To his annoyance, or rather relief, Banejieri interrupted that particular train of thought. "I am, how to say this, hesitant to say that the Saintess of White is confirmed dead. She hid it well, but her magical prowess was not what it should've been the few times I spoke to her after meeting with the dragon."

"You suspect she employed a decoy?" If he had eyebrows, Kunivela would've raised them. "Would she dare? Speak with That One using such a thing, I mean."

"He wouldn't care so long as she provided results. I doubt the rest of us, save for a few, would be granted that kind of allowance. Besides—" Banejieri abruptly paused. "Tsk. Considering That One's nature, it's not impossible that he never noticed."

'Welcome news,' aside from the strength she added to the conspiracy seeking to topple the Dragon Lord, he still had research related questions for her. Meeting Granz was a difficult task what with her, admittedly understandable, obsession with magical development and the general precautions their type took when it came to visitations.

To that end, he spent a great deal of resources assisting Banejieri with the understanding that the two-headed Night Lich would introduce him to Granz. He himself was also in the midst of pursuing the Ninth-Tier, but receiving insight from an equal was a very valid path to improvement. "I'm glad to hear one of the most illustrious among our inner circle escaped with her life. Will you uphold your deal, Anschass?"

The extended silence ignited an ember of anger in his empty chest. Were they backing out using the recent string of setbacks as an excuse—?

"She never returned to her strongholds," Banejieri's voice was as grim as he'd ever heard it. "Nor any of her workshops. I paid a visit to the Ravine of Sorrows as well, but as you can see…"

Three of their six arms gestured absently at the castle hallway occupied by them and a few of Krunui's thralls. "Lady Locker, assuming she is alive, has gone into hiding. The remaining possessions in her primary workshop were looted, presumably by Fear given the relative proximity."

"Has she abandoned our plans?" Kunivela's fists clacked as they clenched and unclenched. Strong emotions were usually beyond what an undead could feel, but rage, hatred, annoyance were all sentiments still within reach. "Our odds were poor to begin with. We can ill-afford this show of cowardice."

"After what happened, wouldn't you do the same?" Banejieri rhetorically asked. "The knowledge that another Dragon Lord from the primordial era seeks your death must be a harrowing one."

He calmed down, the rest of the Abyss's words left hanging in the air, unsaid. Of course he would do the same. None among his peers were so selfless as to not do the same. If it came down to his or her own life and the wellbeing of the entire organization, each one would doubtlessly choose themselves.

It was inevitable. Corpus of the Abyss had always been a group established for the sake of convenience, to prevent pointless deaths over squabbling for materials, to advance their personal arcane expertise. They plotted against That One because it was either that or subjecting themselves to an eternity of servitude, but if an alternate, safer option was available…

"I suppose so," he conceded the point. "Nevertheless, this leaves us in a difficult situation, Anschass. She was one of the leaders, and even if she wasn't, Eighth-Tier spellcasters are rare among the undead recruited. Our foe already outclasses us by an order of a few magnitudes; the last development we need is for our side to start unraveling before the true conflict begins. Speaking of which, did you manage to figure out anything with that toy of yours?"

"A few," Banejieri non-committedly answered. "That warrior woman, Clementine was her name, I believe? In any case, she didn't know much about the Crown of Wisdom's specific functions—why, I daresay that newborn Lich knows more than her, and she's supposedly one of the original owner's champions."

Barely an answer, but as long as they were putting it to good use. If results continued to be long in coming, he could always liberate the relic from Banejieri's hands.

'Although,' Kunivela mused. 'The activation requirements must be quite strict if he isn't wearing the item himself.' He found it unlikely the two-headed Night Lich wouldn't kill the current 'Miko Princess'—Prince, to be accurate—just to spite him. Indeed, impatience served his purposes poorly. "As always, we'll leave this matter to you, Anschass. Make sure the vessel doesn't come to harm."

"Naturally. I strengthened the location's defenses ever since I heard the westward rumors. Angels and a theocracy go hand in hand, no?"

"Whether it's the Theocracy's doing or not, stay on guard," Kunivela warned. "Nations usually go to great lengths to repossess relics like this. It's no Ratna, but the option to cast high-tier ritual magic with mediocre spellcasters is a significant boon."

"I'd say you're worrying too much," two sets of jaws clattered in a grim mockery of life. "Unfortunately, I can't say I don't know where you're coming from."

Banejieri stepped back and away: down the hall and towards the atelier where Krunui and the rest of the conspiracy had gone after the meeting proper. "I'll triple-check those wards, Kunivela. But do stay careful yourself, hm?"

"To the best of my abilities," he politely nodded, accepting the words of concern for what they were.

"Considerable abilities, to be sure," the two-headed Night Lich was fully out of sight now, their voice growing smaller even while the distance grew between them.

Kunivela found his gaze wandering back to the painting of the Abbess and Dragon. There was a beauty in the slaughtering of powerful enemies.

'Cast Down,' was the title engraved in a small plaque of solid gold attached to the bottom of the frame.

The Night Lich couldn't help but think it was a little too on the nose.


"Ready to depart, Lady Cabelia?"

"Mrngh," Bebard's mayor grunted, head leaning against the carriage's windows. The same angels that had accompanied the small, mishmash delegation from Karnassus steadily hovered outside. Their flight was unnatural, like puppets being pulled across space despite—well, the Dragon Empress had worked stranger changes upon the World, hadn't she? "We've been ready."

Saervaloss Thylian, or Valoss as he'd taken to calling himself here, chuckled. "Ha! True enough."

If security escorts were the only thing Re-Kista Cabelia needed, then there would've been no need for her to hire him, a 'simple mercenary.' The child possessed a sharp eye and sharper insight though; Saervaloss was fairly certain she already knew he wasn't who he portrayed himself as. Not shocking really—he was never the sort to sneak around and pretend to be somebody else.

However, she predictably had need of a patsy to deliver instructions through less… official channels. Also unsurprising, but it was a fortunate coincidence nonetheless. ■■ wanted a closer look at the angel that had the shakers of the continent in a tizzy, and doing it in person as the Swordmaster Dragon Lord was asking for more trouble than he felt like handling. 'Vaision has one of his pet projects set up here, and if I remember correctly, Rhell was loitering about as well. Beletai can't spare the distraction.'

In a fight, Saervaloss was confident he could make an escape even if both attacked him simultaneously. Against Rhell, victory was all but assured—unless whatever crystalline byproduct ■■ desired from the Sage tipped the scales. Platinum Dragon Lord though…

Lady Cabelia glanced at him while he released a sigh. The Emperor's last living son was an indomitable existence, flawless and firm in spirit and technique. Small wonder they were recognized as the Arbiter.

Not invincible. Not unkillable. Yet neither could be done without drawing the undue attention of someone, who for all intents and purposes, was.

And—Saervaloss would be lying if he said he wanted them dead.

"Anything catch your eye, Lady Cabelia?" He pushed aside such thoughts—but the exhaustion that seeped so deeply into his soul could not be denied, never denied—and smiled serenely at the human mayor. "It was quite the festival, was it not?"

"… You're well-spoken for a rogue mercenary, Sir Valoss."

"Ah, I'm no Sir," his smile turned apologetic. So she chose to save the confrontation for the last possible moment, or as close to it anyhow. "It'll be incorrect to say I'm merely a mercenary, but a wanderer wouldn't be too far from the mark?"

'Am I anything more than that now?'

"I am nothing so honorable," the words came out wry and dry. "Once upon a time, perhaps."

Such was the price of pursuing a dream. His dream. Their dream. What the Empress promised and failed to fully deliver, leaving them with a half-roasted delusion.

Or maybe, she never intended to in the first place. Even so, did that excuse his actions?

'What was it that the humans of these parts say? In for a copper, in for a gold.'

It said something, he thought, that he knew his decisions were wrong—wrong for a keeper of the balance, wrong for the sane—yet chose to tread this path.

"Honor can be reclaimed. I don't know about your past, and it would be arrogant to make assumptions, but you needn't live in it, Sir Valoss," an amused puff of air escaped his nostrils. What a bold child. "In short, the people of Karnassus could use a warrior of your talents. You'll be well compensated in both wealth and fame, that I can assure you."

"Though this one regrets having to turn down Lady Cabelia's offer, I'm delighted you find my bladework pleasing," she had a sharp eye for value, that couldn't be denied. A necessary trait for the administrators of the City-State Alliance who counted the Equestrian King among their enemies. "I must admit, I only accepted your request because I wished to see the ruckus being raised in the Draconic Kingdom for myself."

"Can't really fault you there," the human mayor was the one to sigh this time, brushing back brown hair as she looked out the window. "Everyone and their grandpa wants to check out the Lady of Wings for themselves. Hard not to, when she single-handedly sent the Vahasi Republic running with their tails between their legs.

"Playing games with something they don't—can't understand," Lady Cabelia continued with a scoff. "Not that I can blame them either. I'm doing the same after all."

'If only you knew,' when it came down to it, there wasn't much difference between lowly mortals and exalted Dragon Lords in the end. "I shall pray for their good health then."

Lady Cabelia snorted. "You go and do that. Honestly, what are some of them thinking? Re-Estize's Great Nobles I can understand, but Jircniv? Does he think his Court Wizard can protect him from reprisal? I don't remember Paradyne being the one to incinerate an entire army of beastmen."

Jircniv was that amethyst-eyed blond; an emperor of a fragment's fragment, was he not? "Apologies, I admit I haven't heard much of what you and your fellow honorable delegates were occupied with. Has Emperor El-Nix made a grave error of some kind?"

"Not in particular," she admitted. "It's more of—hm. As a mercenary, there's a certain way you carry yourself in public, correct? And this front changes depending on who you're around, where you are, what you've done and what people know you've done… much like an adventurer or Worker's success depends on how skillfully they can shape this facade, so too is a government official's. You don't have to make a mistake to have made a mistake."

The Swordmaster Dragon Lord knew that all too well.

"Trying to put on airs instead of just accepting there's nothing anyone can do if she decides she wants something… can't he understand that this doesn't involve just him?" She shook her head. "I respect Jircniv for his strength of will and intellect, but there's a time and place for pride, and these past few weeks weren't it."

"Maybe it's not so strange considering Emperor El-Nix's history," Saervaloss offered. Despite having no background in history, other than that which he lived, the epithet 'Bloody Emperor' was one he looked into prior to this task. "Being used to the world working one way only for everything to change faster than the birds can fly. In turbulent times, identity can be a source of strength when common sense fails you."

But it could also be a trap, he wanted to say. Six hundred years ago, when the Emperor and Empress had reshaped the World to the point where a person became their identity and nothing else. A blacksmith was a blacksmith. A reaver, a reaver. A swordmaster, a swordmaster, and only a swordmaster.

It wasn't completely awful at first. People chafed, and as was the case whenever the powerful made decisions, the weak—those who lacked ontological weight—suffered the most as the underlying laws that governed reality were rewritten.

Eventually, he and his peers led the lower beings to a new 'normal' despite the interlopers who fell out the rip in the veil. Looking back, he should've known that was the beginning of the end. Or rather, the end had already come and gone the day the rituals were performed. The dream strangled within the womb.

They gained the strength they craved, but the cost…

It was too high. It was a price they couldn't pay, yet they paid anyway.

And here he sat, hands joined with those who thought they could do better, succeed where the greatest among them failed. Sometimes Saervaloss wondered why Gyxkarthos never warned them. Wasn't that his role as the Watcher?

Then again, none of them would've listened. The chance to ascend beyond this World and lay claim to every light in the night sky was too tempting. Even more than that, how could they have surrendered the opportunity to put an end to the inevitable, chaotic calamities that plagued this sphere since its inception?

'Replaced—no, we didn't even replace anything,' the Swordmaster Dragon Lord's thoughts were tinged with bitterness. 'Made the disasters we already had even worse, then added a different kind.'

"That's not wrong, I suppose," Lady Cabelia replied. "Someone representing a nation ought to understand the weight of the mantle they bear. It's just…" She sighed again. "It's a shame. Closer relations between Bebard and the Empire might've been beneficial."

"Are you sure this is something you should be telling a wandering mercenary?" Saervaloss raised a steel-gray eyebrow.

"I'm not so arrogant as to think it a secret," Lady Cabelia waved off his concern. "Jircniv's ranked among the highest of the eligible bachelors in this region, you see. It wouldn't be a great ordeal on my part either; I doubt he'd let me interfere too much in the Empire's operations even if I wanted."

"Not an uncommon exchange," Saervaloss nodded. What could the weak offer to the strong aside from satisfying baser desires? "Speaking of which, I would've thought he'd have his eyes on the Dark Scale Dragon Lord. Prior to the Lady of Wings' arrival, that is."

He understood on an intellectual level that his kind had fallen into obscurity, but to the point where people couldn't recognize the value of Wild Magic? Even if Rhell's descendent was a complete neophyte at the art of the soul, she should still be an immense prize worth the ransom of this Baharuth Empire many times over. The Player knew this already, and their stay on this world measured under half a year.

"Ah," she winced. "You might not be aware given your unfamiliarity with the history of this corner, but Queen Oriculus used to take the form of a child. Quite the departure from her current appearance—anyway, the Emperor had misgivings regarding a potential union."

There were people with those preferences, weren't there? Though to be fair, there were species that aged backwards, so for those cultures, it wouldn't be odd to see child-like people engaged in carnal relations. Saervaloss himself cared little for such matters; lower beings were allowed to do as they wished.

However, he also doubted that would go over well with the Mayor of Bebard, so he agreed instead. "Understandable then. Emperor El-Nix is an upright man indeed to value the morals of his land so greatly if he was willing to abandon his pursuit of Queen Oriculus."

"Putting it that way is…" A troubled expression flitted across Lady Cabelia's face. "Yes. It would be disturbing if he did."

As it should. A nation allying with a Dragon Lord born without the curse of the modern era was a terrifying prospect from the perspective of neighbors. The fact that the blood running through Draudillon Oriculus's veins was more human than dragon was irrelevant.

So Saervaloss couldn't help but find it foolish this Emperor would spurn a priceless opportunity because of something as meaningless as personal preference. If stomaching the act of conception with an undesirable partner was unbearable, wasn't the practice of keeping concubines available?

Either way, the chance had vanished, stolen by the Lady of Wings who seemed intent on monopolizing—

Within the sanctity of his mind, a bell chimed. The amulet hanging around his neck was tuned to find quarries who fell into specific categories; its range was worthy of praise for a relic fashioned after the Aftershocks, but its reach took time to extend to its full radius.

Time that had finally passed. A shame, he thought. He would've enjoyed sightseeing and speaking with this human for a while longer.

Conflict needed to be incited, driven to greater heights. All for the sake of distracting the powers that be away from Kuryeo.

When had his sword become a tool so odious?

"I've received an emergency『Message』that demands my immediate presence," the partial truth smoothly slid out his mouth. "Lady Cabelia, I fear I must renege on our contract."

The corner of Lady Cabelia's lips twisted downwards. Confusion was there too, probably wondering how he was going to translocate fast enough to attend to this 'emergency.' "Leaving before you've completed your job is quite unprofessional."

"I apologize," her gaze was dragged to the magical trinket Saervaloss rolled around in his palm. Misdirection. A swordmaster teleporting through his own power would raise questions, after all. "Of course, I'll return the payment rendered back to you. Besides, the angels should see you arrive in good health, no?"

He didn't wait for her response as he channeled essence around and within his hand, and swung.

In a single smooth and seamless motion from over a thousand kilometers away, Saervaloss cut the 'distance' between him and the Federation's scouting force. Space was erased in an infinitesimally thin line, pulling him—no, insinuating his presence at both where he wanted to be and where he currently was. For the smallest, most insignificant instant, he simultaneously existed and didn't exist in Lady Cabelia's carriage and a field of green.

The technique was, without question, inferior to『World Teleportation』. Because it still crossed distance in a sense, it could be disrupted by any wards lying between the start and end point. In that case, he'd have to expend additional essence to cut through those wards on top of performing the technique itself.

But for a swordmaster like him, a person who dedicated nearly a millennium to bladework, there existed no method more intuitive than this. To begin with, a swordsman developing a teleportation ability and calling it 'intuitive' was already an absurdity.

The tips of his finger reached the end of their arc, and he was no longer sitting in a furnished carriage but instead the middle of a verdant glade. Reality reasserted itself, snapping him to his destination with a burst of heated air that was displaced by his sudden materialization.

"Decent senses," Saervaloss muttered to himself and the rangers who should've heard his arrival while the wildlife fled from the predator in their midst. "You should be able to do at least this little."

Normally, the modus operandi of these scouting parties—a marked difference from outreach parties—was to avoid conflicts with mysterious people who appeared in their path out of nowhere. Unfortunately for said party, the gray-haired 'human' had removed that option with a few swings from the mithril sword loosely held at his side.

A variation of『World Isolating Barrier』and its lesser sibling『World Warping Wall』that cut off a small space from the surrounding world. Essence expenditure rose exponentially with the area carved out, so in terms of how much it covered, it was really quite inferior to the mainstays other Dragon Lords picked up.

On the other hand, Saervaloss was confident this barrier could punish people through even the greatest defense spells woven with Wild Magic. Anybody seeking to enter or leave would do so only after parting with a significant portion of their body.

He waited in the center of the clearing for several minutes for the Asterion Federation's scouts to finish their frantic discussion. Out of the towering forest walked sixteen demihumans armed to the teeth: one Khenra, one Wolf Zoastia, four Lion Zoastia, four Tiger Zoastia, two Goms, three Snakemen, and one Minotaur.

Of those sixteen, a mere six might be considered noteworthy. Of those six, none were a threat.

Nevertheless, that would be a poor excuse for giving up the initiative. The moment he had a clear line of sight on the entire group—unnecessary, but just to make sure—including those who thought themselves hidden, Saervaloss slashed horizontally while they were still a good couple hundred meters out.

No air or vacuum blade was shot forth. Nor was there a burst of aura, essence, mana, or ki.

Before he moved, they were whole. Afterwards, the fifteen surrounding the Minotaur Epialos wordlessly fell into crimson chunks that stained the land.

Slowly, casually, as if the world moved for him alone, Saervaloss sheathed the now battered, yet pristine, blade of mithril.

His eyes couldn't see the demihuman's expression through the veil they wore, but his other senses painted a vivid picture. To the Minotaur's credit, they barely faltered before continuing their path forward. Forward towards him.

"A rather despicable way to open hostilities," there weren't any traces of anger or disapproval in the Minotaur's voice, only resignation. Both of them knew the central powers were prone to worse.

"If I'm fighting a despicable person, it's only natural to use a few despicable tricks myself," Saervaloss responded with the bearings of a teacher patiently imparting a lesson upon a particularly dim student. "That being said, if I was fighting an honorable warrior who was trying to kill me, I certainly can't let that happen—so it's fine to use a few despicable tricks in that case as well."

"Your honor as a swordmaster amazes me," the Minotaur humorlessly chuffed. "No, Sword Saint, yes? Or will you lie about something that trivial?"

"I think it's a sad thing to have to be good at lying," ignoring the metaphysical tendrils of a skill seeking ingress into his mind, Saervaloss spared not the smallest glance for the remnants of the Asterion cluster. Super cluster? It mattered little. "That's why I chose the Path of the Sword: the blade is honest, complex and deceitful in the ways it can express itself, but it is always honest."

"Saervaloss Thylian then," the Minotaur's shoulders sank. Whatever happened here wouldn't be leaving. "Swordmaster Dragon Lord and First-ranked Sword Saint. Do your actions today have to do with the Federation?"

"To say 'no' would mean lying," he ever so slightly tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll ask you this: do you think it matters whether they do or not?"

"Maybe not to you."

"Mm," his fingers blurred like lightning as they grabbed the Minotaur's throat. "The intention is to make this look like you ran into the Commonwealth—but tell me, what exactly did you send to your superiors?"

The Minotaur stoically stared at him even while they futilely tried to break his grip. An annoyance, so the Dragon Lord removed the offending appendages with his free hand. "Still intent on keeping your silence?"

Part of him already knew nothing he could do would break them. Oh, he and ■■ knew many who could, but…

He had done what he'd come to do. Any information gleaned was simply a bonus.

Therefore, indulging in an act of meaningless mercy was permissible. None but him would know anyway.

"Centuries ago, there was a Dragon Lord who was rather adept at revealing secrets," Saervaloss airily remarked, like he was commenting on the weather and not holding a limbless, bleeding Minotaur by the neck. "Delving into foreign souls and scouring them for memories, experiences… even for the strongest among us, such a technique was dangerous because the amount of strength never mattered."

Soul-searching, an art where the boundaries delineating identities were blurred and lost. Dangerous was an understatement when practitioners ran a very real risk of self-annihilation.

"The Ghost Dragon Lord, though I doubt the people of this era remember him, developed a process where he would stop being himself and become you instead. Eliminated the uncertainties and mitigated possible backlash by making you somebody else, or 'nothing,' but whatever he refined you into, it was always 'hollow.' "

A perfect vessel for a formless being with less substantiality than even ordinary ghosts. Fighting him had been a pain at first, but Saervaloss remembered being thankful for the opportunity after the fact. How else would he have learned how to cut the void between spaces?

"So I suppose this is all to say that you're rather lucky," 'not lucky enough' went unspoken. "If you won't answer my questions, do you have any last words you would like to share?"

"Y-You… talk… quite a bit for a Sword Saint," the Epialos sneered from underneath their veil. "Has solitude—cough—dri-driven you insane?"

'I wonder. Only, it wasn't solitude; it was other people.'

Saervaloss released his grip on the demihuman's neck—and swung the same hand in the same breath.

The appendage passed through the Minotaur from scalp to groin like they were air, less than air, splitting them into two halves that fell to the grass with a wet splat. Organs spilled out to fill the gap in an act of futility, adding to the stench of death clinging to the essence of the land itself.

He wrung his fingers, shaking off blood and viscera that wasn't there, as he dispassionately stared at the scene of carnage he'd carved upon the glade.

"Goodness. This is going to take a while to clean up."


Draudillon had to say: meeting an adamantite party that wasn't Crystal Tear twice in the same month was a new experience for her. Furthermore, a party she would've been desperate to acquire the services of, no less.

An apology was a step above even that in terms of peculiarity though. In a private setting, of course; she didn't see a need in forcing Blue Roses to apologize in the presence of the Royal Court.

"Your Majesty," Evileye bowed, barely more than a lowering of their head and a slight incline of the shoulders, which for the vampire, was probably a small step above prostrating themselves. "My words last week were unbecoming of me and my status as a member of Blue Roses. The insults I leveled against your person had no place being spoken at all, much less in your home. I seek your forgiveness and submit myself to your mercy."

"She shouldn't have waited a week to apologize…" Yuriko 'quietly' grumbled—unfortunately, still loud enough for everyone apart from just her to also hear. Draudillon caught a grimace flash across the faces of the vampire's sisters-in-arms, but no reactions otherwise.

"It was out of consideration for us," the dragon queen whispered, actually quietly, before raising her voice to address the… petitioners was a fitting term. Huh. Life was full of reversals, it seemed. "Your apology is accepted, Lady Evileye. Raise your head and know that you and yours remain welcome in my kingdom."

"My sincerest gratitude, Your Majesty," Evileye turned their gaze from the ground of the castle gardens to Draudillon, the crimson gemstone staring a hole into her. Now that she thought about it, weren't the vampire's actions a little too polished for an adventurer? "I will not make such a mistake again."

'It's hardly uncommon for accomplished spellcasters to possess some degree of education in etiquette; although, on the level of Lady Aindra? Rusty, like she hasn't practiced for a time, but it's there,' were they the long lost scioness of some destroyed duchy? As an undead with an unlimited lifespan, it wasn't implausible. "Of course. With that said, is there anything else you wish to ask of us while you're here?"

Ah, well. She wasn't so curious as to dig up old traumas for the sake of satiating her curiosity.

The members of Blue Roses, with the exception of Evileye, shared a look with each other that ended when Lady Aindra stepped forth, allowing the shorter spellcaster to retreat without turning her back to the dragon queen. "Forgive our shamelessness, Your Majesty, but there is one last thing."

'Fluder Paradyne,' Yuriko appeared to have made the same guess if that eye-roll was any indication. Draudillon hummed, resisting the temptation to hold the angel's hand in the presence of Blue Roses; her beloved was more bothered by Evileye's careless accusations than they'd initially let on. 'Evileye is lucky Yuriko is who she is. So am I, I suppose.'

"Speak."

"Your Majesty, at risk of seeming obstinate, we'd like to extend a hand of cooperation in the case that Lord Paradyne reveals himself as a threat to these lands," Lady Aindra raised her head. "We dare not ask for your or Lady Yuriko's direct intervention unless the aforementioned event comes to pass. To that end, we'll take responsibility for the investigation and any conflict that may occur—and we'll freely share uncovered information with you—but I ask for the Draconic Kingdom to step in once it's clear defeating the Tri-Arts Caster becomes in everybody's best interests."

Draudillon shot a questioning look at Yuriko.

"If he's a bad guy, then I'll deal with it," her beloved huffed, narrowed eyes focused on Evileye. Despite what the vampire had said, Draudillon found herself pitying them. Hopefully this news wouldn't spread to the Dawnwing Cult—actually, she should nip that in the bud because a mob of civilian zealots aggravating a Fifth-Tier spellcaster was a profoundly terrible idea.

"It would be remiss of me to demand inaction from noble heroes such as yourselves," if they got themselves killed, it wouldn't be the Draconic Kingdom's fault at least. "Very well. We have an accord on one condition."

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"What has been spoken here," she folded her hands across her lap. "You and yours will tell no one. In addition, I will ask my noble houses to keep an eye open for suspicious activities of the undead nature. Of course, this information shall be shared with Blue Roses as well."

"We graciously accept these terms, Your Majesty," Lady Aindra stood up from where she was genuflecting and bowed. "If it's alright, we'll take our leave—"

"What changed your mind?" Apparently not having properly learned her lesson, Evileye interrupted to her comrades' audible and visible dismay. Yuriko's crossed arms tensed. "You were completely against the idea of intervening at first, and now, just a week later, you're suddenly on board?"

'In her long years of life, what has she experienced to feel so strongly about this?'

Hers too was now also a life blessed with perennial youth—Yuriko stubbornly refused to budge from calling her young of all things, so she took the path of least resistance and accepted it—although that hardly meant she understood what Evileye had gone through. Eventually, she might, but that remained a few centuries off.

A statement which would've sounded utterly nonsensical in the past, but knowledge had a way of overturning the established.

Draudillon blandly smiled. "Like Lady Aindra said, primarily because it's in the kingdom's best interests. As for my other reasons… why, I'm sure a mind of Lady Evileye's calibur could easily divine them."

"That's not—" Lady Aindra grabbed the vampire's shoulders. "I mean, thank you for the answer, Your Majesty."

The priestess, warrior and ninja twins murmured similar sentiments and followed Cerde out of the gardens.

"So annoying!" Yuriko immediately blurted once the adventurers were out of sight. "It's like, she didn't learn anything at all. She definitely still thinks she was in the right!"

"I didn't get that impression," Draudillon idly swirled the cold tea around with a silver spoon. "It's more along the lines of… how do I say this? She's sorry she lost control the last time we met, but that doesn't change her underlying priorities. Naturally, those priorities color the way she approaches certain situations—or topics, would be more precise here—and the result is what we saw."

"S-Still! She didn't have to be so blunt about it…"

"To be clear, it's not necessarily wrong for you to think that way," she gestured to the chair next to her. Yuriko pulled it out and sat down, waiting for what she had to say next. "Her reaction would have dire consequences if she wasn't who she was, or couldn't do what she could. The fact there's an underlying reason that might make people more understanding doesn't matter if the person she offends isn't aware."

"Is it something we need to know, Drau?" Her beloved met her gaze with their earnest gold. "If she's holding back important information, isn't that bad for us?"

"I doubt it," based on what she'd seen and heard, Draudillon figured Evileye had some history with what Paradyne allegedly used to facilitate his ascension. "Since this happened shortly after the Disturbance in E-Rantel, it's likely something related to causing a mass casualty event—"

"Wha—that's a big deal!"

"—which doesn't really change what we're doing and need to do anyway," the dragon queen finished, ignoring the protest. "Have confidence in your strength, Yuriko Hanami. Some jumped-up Archmage from the backwaters will not get the better of you. If you must fear, then fear those who are worthy of it."

"… I'll try, but I'm still doing resurrections, trying to organize the temple stuff, keeping track of where you and the Court are allocating angels, the Beastman Country," Yuriko counted off on her fingers. "Making sure the ones shipping things aren't getting lost, my etiquette and writing studies… and I'm pretty sure there's some other stuff I'm forgetting which is probably bad."

"Are you getting enough rest?" Draudillon laid a concerned hand atop the angel's. "Especially after making that Wish—I know what I said before about wanting you to help Silas with running the temple, but your health is of greater importance."

"I don't get sick though, Drau," Yuriko giggled. "Y'know, it's funny."

"What is?"

"Being on the other end," they placed their other hand on the one she was placing over theirs. "Of having someone worry about you. I still remember getting all worked up because you were always working without breaks, and now…"

Yuriko trailed off, face beginning to burn with heat.

"I, I like it. And I'll try—I will take breaks," they raised their voice. "So y-you better be ready to get bothered by me!"

"Good," Draudillon nodded in satisfaction. "I am ever ready to be bothered by you."

That was a shameless lie considering the amount of work she had, but oh, the look on their face after hearing the brazen innuendo was worth a queen's ransom.

'I should… probably find some people to help pick up the slack,' she kept those thoughts to herself as she pulled the spluttering angel to her chest. "Extended vacations are tricky to plan given the purview of our duties, but after the Awards Ceremony is done with, would you like to accompany me on a trip around the kingdom—"

"Yes!" Yuriko answered before the request had even fully left her mouth. "If you're going, I wanna go too."

"It won't be an actual vacation since we're there for work—"

"I don't care."

Okay. She really needed to scrounge up some more assistants.


A/N: Shoutout to TherapyDerg for letting me use the likeness of their MC from Overlord:Divinity! The Abbess is an expy of their super adorable MC, Akemi.