Noble bastards, as Maria was personally well aware, could inherit the capacity for magic as well as their legitimate noble siblings could. And while many were eventually legitimized or adopted into a noble family as soon as their ability became known– a chance that others without the ability could never have open for them, leaving them in bastardy forever– some, like herself, chose against that.

The man she was planning to visit after the Marquess David Mason was one such man.

Kent Ashmore, as he was known now according to Rufus, was some promiscuous noble's get, aged to manhood. He had never attended the Academy, having survived in the criminal underworld of Sorcier since a very young age, when he had discovered his considerable affinity for magic and taught himself its practical applications. Yes, despite the many claims of Sorcier having no crime, common sense would hold this was crow pebbles. No, it was just better hidden and organized. After all, Sorcier was a stable, peaceful society. In such circumstances did crime flourish, for there was no disorder to make it unpredictable, allowing for best profit.

Still, it had been a surprise when Rufus had revealed there were those who trafficked in slaves.

Even in Cainhurst, they had not been party to such barbarity. Yes, their knights had taken commoners in the dark for their blood, but those had been free commoners. Dirty, poor, uneducated, stupid and nearly worthless, but free.

Maria finding it here in Sorcier was… strangely offensive, somehow.

Rufus seemed to have sensed this offense, as he had been surprisingly forthcoming when he sensed the turn of her questioning. He'd gone at great length as to what he'd heard about Ashmore in the time since the man had sold him, of the so-called 'farm' in the outskirts of the capital his 'stock' was kept, and where Rufus had been sold. Of his strange fetish for Ashina mysticism, calling himself the Fiery Ryu of the West, and his more perverse fetish for Ashina youths. Of his pet assassin the so-called Demon Lionel, another bastard, an Earth Magi Wielder who had learned to make weak dust golems that broke easily but were sufficiently distracting to be fatal to his victims.

The most Larna Smith had been able to say was that the men were wanted for the crime of not attending the Academy when they had come of age. Wasn't the Ministry supposed to be the authority overseeing the magic-wielders of Sorcier? At least she seemed embarrassed by their relative ignorance on the subject, something Rufus hadn't hesitated to sneer at her for.

With one offense to good civilization taken care of, Maria went to deal with the other.

It would take some time, as she'd forgotten how awkward riding in a horse while wearing a skirt was. Perhaps she should have found trousers after all…


She was never wearing anything but trousers ever again. She might just have to burn her dresses when she got back to the Academy.

Giving one last glare down at the horse, she peered at her destination.

The place looked a simple if prosperous farm, completely typical of the area around the capital. They even had a sign at their front gate reading 'Ashmore'. Farming actually did seem to have taken place, as the fields had been harvested, and there were barns in her sight that seemed to contain grain. If one did not know what to look for, one would not realize that there was one barn to many, and that one sealed a bit too tight.

Obvious guards wielding farm tools prowled when they should have been helping with the harvest. They were the more obviously dangerous tools, like large forks, scythes, rakes, hand axes, all seemingly too sharp even at this distance.

This did not mean this was the right place, however.

Maria climbed down from the tree easily, her riding hurts cured by her eldritch light. After making sure the horse was secure, she had tried to circle around the farm to find an avenue of approach that would be unseen, so she could investigate the farm.

What she found were an amount of bear traps, pits traps, trips wires that set off bells and at least three swinging logs. They were without spikes and smaller than the mankillers she was familiar with, but obviously swinging log traps nonetheless, set along the obvious paths to– or from– the farm.

She also found a patch of disturbed earth. Maria hadn't needed to fling off much dirt to reveal the pallid corpse of a boy of Ashina descent, with long, girl-like hair. Even in death, his face was twisted in pain, and there was a hand-shaped burn around his neck.

Maria's face was smooth, even as she took the small black lifegem, shimmering with a weak black aura, that had formed above the child's heart and slipped it into her belt pouch. Gently, she covered the boy with dirt again and found a stone to mark the grave.

Then she stood up and decided to cast away all form of subtlety.


Maria parried aside the pitchfork, stepped on it to drive it's tines into the ground and spun, backhanding her sword into the tough's spine.

The sword from Lady Berg's house armory was obviously long unused, but the blade had been sharp and oiled and was obviously of good make.

Three guards had clumped together and were pointing their weapons at her warily. She quickened, sweeping her sword as she sped, knocking aside their arms. Her sword reversed, and they fell, chest wounds gushing blood.

Unfortunately, it had been a long, straight sword most often favored in Sorcier, rather than the curving saber Maria preferred.

She ignored those who ran away or cowered back. She almost paid for it, one lunging at her with a concealed knife when she passed.

The armory had also had a sword in the Ashina style, which Maria had briefly considered using, but in the end had decided against.

Her servant's garb had no brass or leather to deflect blows. It was also borrowed. Maria jumped over him as he struck at her, parting body from Dark Soul with a powerful, two-handed blow. She did not wish to return the dress with any unseemly holes.

It was closer to her Rakuyo, but also to the loathed Chikage and truth be told, she hadn't used one in so long that she was afraid she'd embarrass herself.

But on to the present.

She strode toward the barn farthest from the road. Despite this, there was a much clearer path to it than the other three barns. A result of many, many more vehicles having gone to it than the ones storing grain? Probably. Now that she was closer, she could see that the apparent barn was much too heavily build, with no openings save for the barn door, which was shut much too securely. The subtle but unmistakable smell of human waste, sweat and fear emanated from it.

As she moved closer, every rock, peddle and grain of dust seemed suddenly to take offense at her, flinging themselves at her face, blinding her. Maria flinched, eyes burning, and she instinctively spun and leapt. She wiped her eyes with a hand that glowed with eldritch light, banishing the stinging even as she kicked off the wall of the barn and pushed backwards for more height. Hanging upside down in the air, she quickly scanned about her in that moment.

Three men on the roof of the farmhouse with bows. A red-headed man that had been hidden from her view behind a tree and some barrels, hand outstretched towards the still attacking earth, a short sword with a burning rag tide about the hilt, making an impromptu fiery weapon. A blond man standing imperiously at the door of the farmhouse, arms crossed, some sort of weapon hanging horizontally at his waist.

The bowmen loosed as Maria twisted in the air. Two arrows missed, and one she deflected off her sword. From her belt pouch, she drew four of the throwing knives she'd taken from Rufus and threw. Two took the bowmen in the throat, one at the elbow. The man behind the barrels rolled out of the way, and his concentration broken, the earth settled, though dust still hung in the air. Maria landed and lunged at him, sword outstretched, only to encounter a wall of dust that hid him from view.

She jumped backwards instantly as a bottle with a burning rag at the opening, a familiar hunter tool, landed near where she would have been, scattering oil and erupting in fire. The dust rising seemed to subtly change, forming the hazy outlines of men, spreading and concealing her foe…

She narrowed her eyes, then leaped again, getting above the dust, seeing the fire from the shortsword turned torch as the red-headed man plucked another bottle of oil from his belt and started to light it. Maria's hand flickered to her belt pouch. The knife flew.

The bottle of oil shattered as the rag was lit, enveloping the man in flames.

He screamed, the dust ceasing its unnatural movement, and Maria landed and lunged, her arm outstretched beside her.

A screaming head covered in burning oil flew one way as the body fell to the ground.

With a practiced flick, Maria cleared the blood and some burning oil from her blade, and turned to the blond man still standing at the farmhouse. Now that she was right side-up, Maria could see he wore strange, baggy trousers and some sort of tunic tucked into his belt that he had shed, letting it flop behind him, and leaving his chest bared.

"You are trespassing," he said coolly

"You are a murderer, a kidnapper, a rapist and a beast," Maria answered back as coolly. "That is, if you are Kent Ashmore? If not, then I apologize for the insult I have offered."

"You have trespassed on my domain. Damaged my property. And insulted me. You, a mere maid. Tell me, who sent you? Speak, and I shall only cut off your hands and feet and tongue and have my men use you for their pleasure until you die," the man said, drawing the blade hanging from his waist. An Ashina-style sword, it was blackened as if from flame, a supposition that was confirmed as fire erupted from the man's hand and wrapped around the blade. "Only then shall I have your head to pleasure myself with."

"You are an absolutely disgusting deviant," Maria said. She copied a gesture she'd once seen Sophia do, pointing first at him, then at the ground beneath her. "Surrender, and you shall have a swift death and justice done."

"I am Kent Ashmore!" the man proclaimed. "Kenta, the Fiery Ryu of the West! You shall have no more chances to be clever or lucky, maid."

Maria bowed formally, hand to heart. "I am Lady Maria Campbell, Knight of Sorcier. You killed a child. Prepare to die."

For a moment, a fleeting doubt seemed to cross his face, only to be covered in arrogance. "You. I've heard of you. You cost me a valuable contract, woman."

"I am honored to have discomfited you so," Maria said. With the tip of her sword, she flipped up the now-dead redhead's short sword and smothered its flames with her leather gloves, stripping off the burning rag.

Ashmore stepped down from the porch of the farm. He turned slightly, raising his curving, Chikage-like sword level with his head, holding it horizontal with both hands.

Maria rolled her shoulders, a long sword in her right hand, a short sword in her left.

There was a long, tense moment.

In the distance, Maria saw fog rising.

She began to walk calmly towards her prey.

Ashmore threw fire at her.

Kent Ashmore, The Fiery Ryu of the West

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Lady Maria Campbell, The Wandering Knight of Sorcier

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Black Lifegem
Small stone made up of crystallized Dark Souls. Gradually restores a small amount of hp.

Often found near abandoned corpses, as if it were what remains of the Dark Soul.