Port Natalia was a shithole through and true. The once-renowed port, home to the holiest region of all of Sentora, had now become a hive of scum and debauchery, with the women's presence heavily reduced and the men having turned for the most part into cattle that were good for little more than manual labor.

...well, that is the truth that he knew; he would not deny that from an outsider's perspective, business in port Natalia had flourished, but what it took to get there was nothing short of deplorable. Now you could barely see a woman walk rather than flopping around on a fish's tail and everyone pretending it was fucking normal.

Still. Even if the place had gone to shit, there was enough leftover sense of decency in the more resourceful fellows that an Ilias-abiding man still had places where he wouldn't be bothered by a monster. This particular dive bar, for example, was a nice quiet place where he could gather his thoughts- mostly because he was the only patron in years.

Well now. Almost the only patron. In a corner of the room, he could see a hooded figure hunched over with a bottle of liquor and a knife on the table.

Sheesh. At least the cutthroats used to be slick about things. What was the state of this town, that even the criminals were reflected in this way?

As he sits on one of the stools in front of the bartender, he nods in greeting, something the balding fellow returns. "Kreus."

"Oliver, we've known each other long enough that you can use my name."

"Names are meaningless. You are the head of Kreus, so that's what I call you." The older gentleman replied, and Lazarus, as always, dipped his head in acquiescence. "You wanna do me a favor?"

Lazarus smiled easily, placing his good arm on the counter and leaning on it. "Anything, for a friend. What is it?"

"Get the damn kid out of here." he whispers, nodding towards the hooded figure. Lazarus tilted his head.

"He that bad? Saw a guy getting stabbed here, once. You didn't bat an eye."

"Well-" Oliver began, but a shuddering breath on the other side of the room prompted both of them to look in the kid's direction. "Ilias above, not again." the bartender groaned.

The figure took a swig out of his bottle, shuddered again, before mumbling loud enough that he could be heard. "Less do dis again..."

And with that, he picked up his dagger. Lazarus hand went to his hip where he had his shortsword, but those fears were unfounded. Instead, the kid put his other hand on the table. A hand that was bandaged up in various places. "There izz an old tradition, a game we all can play... you start by getting liquored up and sharpening your blade..." he mumbled.

As the kid kept singing, Lazarus turned towards Oliver. "A singing kid is your trouble?"

Oliver shook his head. "Just watch."

As the kid sang about getting liquored up, he suddenly began stabbing the table repeatedly, the knife dancing in between the spaces where his hand was spread apart.

"Oh, I have all my fingers, the knife goz chop chop chop.
If I miss the spaces in between my fingurs will come off," he slurred.
"An' if a hit ma fingers, blood will soon come out,
but all the same I play this game cause that's what it's all about!

"No you can't use a pencil, you can not uz a pen,
The only way is with a knife when danger is at hand,
And some may call it stupid, some may call it dumb,
But all the same I play this game because it's all I've got," The kid shuddered again, before reciting the chorus again. If anything, Lazarus was impressed with the dexterity involved. Sure, it may be a dumb little game, but the kid was *going* at it. Though, if the injuries on his hands were anything to go by...

"How long did you say the kid has been at it?" Lazarus inquired.

"Three days." Oliver hissed, and Lazarus winced. "Kid rented a room and has just been drinking up and doing that shit. When I shoo him away from the main area, he goes to his room and does it there."

But before Lazarus could comment further, the kid suddenly began going even faster than before.

"Oooooh, chop chop chop chop chop chop chop I'm pickin' up the spee,
And if I hit ma fingers then my han' will surely bleed,
And if a lose a finger, then I'll have lost de game,
But do it or don' do it the'n the end's always the same!" And with that, he yanked and went to stab straight into the middle of the back of his hand, only barely managing to pull his hand out in time for the dagger to go through the table.

Another shudder wracked the kid's body, and he went back to slumping over, murmuring to himself.

The head of Ilias Kreuz blinked. "And you say he does this all day."

"When he's not out to get ointment for his hands or food, or sleeping. Though I can't say I see him do much or any of the last. Keeps me the fuck awake in the process."

"I see." he glanced back towards the kid. "I'll get him out of your hair." And with a nod, he stood up, before sitting himself down at the table with the kid. Somehow, the kid failed to notice his presence, even when Lazarus went as far to boldly pull back his hood.

And what a shit sight it was. The young man, he wouldn't place the boy at older than 20, had drunk himself into a stupor. His brown eyes were completely unfocused, his blonde hair was greasy and disheveled, and he had the biggest bags under his eyes Lazarus had ever seen. He looked *haunted*.

It was something Lazarus had become disturbedly accustomed to. As the kid kept mumbling gibberish to himself, Lazarus decided to retract the items from the table, neither of which seemed conducive to continued health; first the bottle of what smelled like cleaning alcohol, which he simply placed behind himself onto another table and out of reach, then the dagger. As he looked it over, he could see the edge dulled with the asinine game being played right now. Likewise, the table the kid had chosen was marred by countless tiny stabs and splotches of blood.

Somehow, the kid failed to react to Lazarus putting the dagger on his own belt. A minute or two later of just mumbling and breathing, the kid's eyes regained lucidity for a moment, as he scanned the table, and had this almost endearing look of wonder and betrayal, as though his items had decided to partner up to leave him.

"Ahem," Lazarus cleared his throat to get the kid's attention. For a moment, panic seemed to flood the kid's features, but when he looked up at Lazarus, his expression changed from "full blown panic attack" to merely wary.

"O. 'ey." The kid mumbled. "'U see my stuff?"

"What I see right now is a shell of a man who seems more keen on losing his fingers than anything else." Lazarus judges, poking for a reaction.

The kid listens for a moment, a brief bit of lucidity returning as he snorts. "The fingers' a side effect. I'm aiming to lose something else."

...? "What, your whole hand?" Lazarus scoffs, and the kid has the nerve to chuckle.

"'lieve me or not, ol man, I'm..." he pauses, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion for a moment. "Truning. Tranding."

"Training?" Lazarus offers with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, dat." The kid takes a big gulp of air. "Need steady hands while ineb... inbre... drunk. And comfy with hurtin' masel." The kid shudders again, but this time, he bends over fully, puking out the alcoholic contents of his stomach.

The more the kid spoke, the more unhinged he sounded. Lazarus briefly wondered to himself if this was some fairy or succubus' sick prank- monsters were hardly above breaking a young man's spirit into committing suicide. It didn't check out that they wouldn't simply keep him around to drain, but maybe if he did something to offend one...

Before he could put voice to his thoughts, the kid spoke up again. "Gah. My head..." as he looked back up, Lazarus could see a glint of intelligence enter the boy's eyes again. "Are you... wha's was the name, something biblical. Not Peter... Lazarus?" The boy asked, his eyes shining briefly with hope.

Interesting. "Indeed I am. And who are you, boy?"

"N-Noah." He said.

"Like the region?" Lazarus heard a cough behind him, and one look at the bartender was enough to know that he better hurry up. The boy only nodded. "Let's take this outside then, Noah." He said, placing a comforting hand across the back of the younger man.

Noah's eyes widened before he seemed to remember something and began giggling dementedly. "Hahaha... good's evil, right is wrong. Feels like I'm on the end of one biiiiig cosmic joke." As Lazarus gave the boy a disturbed look, wondering just how badly he'd been messed up, Noah seemed to recompose himself a little. "Sorry... just re-evaluatin' a lot of things. I just didn't expect to be helped by someone like you is all."

"Evil, huh?" Lazarus had been called that and worse before. As long as he in his heart knew he was righteous to rid the world of the monstrous scum, he could care less about what others thought. Still, what a weird way to introduce oneself. "I may not be the most charming fellow, boy, but that's mean to say to someone. Who'd go and tell you that?" he said, pulling the boy up on his own legs.

Noah, barely able to stand as Lazarus half carried him outside with a nod to the bartender, seemed to think to himself for a moment before shrugging. "Well, there's little boy named Luka..." he trailed off, and Lazarus rolled his eye.

Marcellus' idiotic legacy was here to annoy him even through two degrees of separation.

"So, what's that you were talking about harmin' yourself? A good living not enough for you?"At that, the boy's mood seemed to plummet and die as his eyes regained that haunted look.

"Can you believe that here, in the holiest of regions, no one is willing to... castrate, another person, even someone who willingly asked for it?" the kid muttered darkly.

"Pretty easily, actually." Lazarus had to hide his wince. He may have a bum arm, but he'd take a second one if it came to that or his balls. "And why would you go and do that?"

As they talked and moved through the streets, he'd actually focused more on keeping Noah steady and talking to him than remaining vigilant. As such, when a whistle sounded through the air, Lazarus actually hadn't noticed in time that they were this close to a monster.

"Hey there, sweetie," she teased. "You look pretty tired there. Need big sis to care for you for the evening?" the redhead mermaid asked.

On Lazarus' tongue was a scathing remark, something to the effect of 'beat it, whore'. Unfortunately, this place had the gall to consider mermaids citiziens, so he could not draw his sword and end her life, so a verbal beatdown would have to do. Unless, of course, she did him the favor of assaulting them first; then he could very well cut her down without consequence.

However, one thing he failed to realize was Noah's reaction. The boy was obviously not sane, in mind or in body; he'd gone petrified, much in the same way that he'd had when Lazarus first made his presence known. He violently lurched back and out of Lazarus' steading grip with a surprising amount of strength, falling to the ground and hitting his back with a groan.

"Oh dear." Spinning her hand up in a circular motion, water began pooling in her hand. "Here, dearie, let me take a look at that. I promise to make it all better."

In a moment, Lazarus had drawn his shortsword and was standing over the kid. "If you wanna keep that hand of yours, I suggest you move on, whore. The kid's already scared enough."

And wasn't that the truth? The kid was on the ground, shaking hard enough Lazarus worried for a moment he might be having a seizure from the hit, before he grabbed onto Lazarus' leg to try and steady himself.

The mermaid took a good look at both of them and frowned, a sneer on her face. "Tch. Of course, the cute, delicious ones would be with a hero... whatever. I'm into way younger men then either of you two." she stuck her nose up in the air, before leaping a good twenty feet away from them and into the water. One glance at the kid was enough to shudder at the implications, another pool of vomit next to him as the boy silently retched.

Bending down to pick up Noah, he scowled. "Come on, up and at'em, boy. Can't be crying all over yourself in the middle of the street."

"...God, at least I used to be able to face monsters without having a panic attack." Noah mumbled to himself, picking himself up. The two of them walked away from the stares of people as the commotion between the mermaid and the duo was not lost on the folk of Port Natalia.

"So, kid. I believe you were spouting nonsense back there." Lazarus commented.

The kid's gaze darkened, a veil of hatred falling over his face. "So has claimed everyone else I've talked to about this. But at least, I wouldn't have to live with the threat of critical ecstasy hanging over my head..."

Lazarus nodded to himself, impressed by the boy's resolve. The signs were all there; the inability to sleep, the immediate panic from just being catcalled, and now this... the dagger was cheap steel but in relatively new condition, blade blunted by the repeated stabs against wood aside; Lazarus honestly wondered to himself for a moment whether the boy had even purchased the dagger with the intent of defending himself from monsters, or whether the boy needed to feel that he could take his own life if need be.

Ahh, what a dark thought. Still, despite the clear resolve to not be a victim to a monster that Lazarus sympathized with, the boy was an idiot through and through.

"Sure, you could do that..." Lazarus trailed off for a moment, and the boy turned to look at him in surprise. "...if you wanted to die over the next two to three years in excruciating pain."

Noah blinked. "I'd take care to not get the wound infected, obviously." He scoffed.

Lazarus shook his head and brought his good hand to chop hard down on Noah's head. "Do they not teach kids like you anything nowadays?" As the boy went to rub on his head from the pain, Lazarus sighed. "Believe me kid, if things were that easy, the goddess would see the castration of her knights as mandatory. Why do you believe that's not the case?"

"...because Ilias wants humanity by the balls just as much as monsterkind does? She still uses angelic pleasure just as much as a reward as monsters do to attract men..." Lazarus' eyebrows shot up as they ducked into an alleyway. Damn, the kid had moxie to say that. Sure, he might be inebriated, but still.

"First, don't hear anyone hear you say that shit. Secondly... you raise an interesting point, but that's hardly the main reason. No, it's a much simpler biological reason; lifeforce is stored in the balls."

Noah's eyes, from their previously half-lidded state shot open. "You're fucking with me."

"Nope. It's kind of one of the things you learn, when you fight for your life; protect your balls or you die. One way or the other." Lazarus shook his head, palm smacking firmly against his face. Idiot kid.

Suddenly, there was the sound of the kid falling to the ground again, collapsing against the alleyway's wall like a puppet with his strings cut. "Then... what the fuck do I even do now?" Noah murmured. "I can't... not again..."

"Then don't." Lazarus commented, leaning against the wall. "Simple as that, brat. You wanted the easy out, surprise surprise, it doesn't exist. Work for it."

When no reply followed his accusation, he sighed. He didn't want to waste any more time on this, but he *had* made the kid his problem, unintentionally. "Look. You're pretty fast with your hands and that massively stupid idea aside, you seem like you've got a few decent ideas behind your head. Let me tell you what."

Reaching into his pocket, he paused for a second. This... this was a part of his past. One that he'd been holding onto for a long while, but never had the courage to face. That place held so many bad memories for him. The last tie to remind him that once upon a time he'd been part of something greater than himself. Ilias Kreuz didn't count, not with how things had been going recently. Not without Marcellus.

Maybe it was time to let it go. 'Karen, Merlin... even you, Marcellus... look upon this young man. Look at what the dream of unification you threw your lives away for caused.'

Shaking his head, he looked back at Noah, fishing the key out of his pocket. "There's an old mansion in San Ilia, the Heroic Lodge. I own the place, but I don't really set foot there aside from whenever the old bastard bothers me about tax breaks. San Ilia is just about the safest place you can be in, so long as you can get there. Feel free to stay... there's also a bunch of old equipment there that I don't really have anything to do with anymore. Use it, sell it, I don't really care. Just don't trash the place or lose the key. And maybe, when you grow a pair and decide to bring the fight to the monsters, come look for me in Gold Port. There's work to be done."

With that, he tossed the key in front of Noah, who turned to look at him with a wide eyed expression. After a moment, Lazarus also tossed him the purse containing what little gold he had left on his person.

"...why?" Noah breathed out.

Lazarus huffed. "The gold, for the dagger. Don't let me catch you again with sharp objects that you don't intend to stick in monsters. As for the key... as I've said, it's not like I use the place."

And so, with a careless gesture of departure, Lazarus strode out of the alley, spilling back into the streets of San Ilia. He'd done what he could to assuage his conscience that he wasn't just sending a young man to die without supervision, and in the process, rid himself of a great burden on his soul.

The sun shone over Port Natalia. And today was another good day to scheme the destruction of monsterkind.


And so, it begins. I've actually had this fic in my head for a few years now, but only recently began writing it.

If you wish to support my writing, you can check me out on the place of patrons where I post five chapters ahead. Alternatively, you can always PM me in private if you wish to commission something written where we can hash out the details. Otherwise, a review is still more than enough, and I can't be thankful enough for it.

Drink water, stay awesome. Nick of Name, out. :)