Blue

by Silenta-Atestanto

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

32. Chapter 32: Mask

Chapter 32: Mask

From its founding by the mythic king Kheron, to the subjugation of its last surviving city by the Cybelians, the Kingdom of Duat existed for approximately four thousand years, making it both one of the largest and longest-lived civilizations to ever exist on the Windurst continent, and perhaps the entire world. In fact, by the time Alondight and his companions arrived in its capital of Mayfil, the city had stood for well over one thousand years. Situated almost entirely upon the banks of the Krios River, and the shores of the Lake that shared its name, at the height of its power, the Kingdom of Duat was renowned for its advanced architecture, extensive trade networks, and sophisticated writing system, enabling the keeping of extensive records and histories. However, the kingdom's dependence on the Krios River would eventually lead to its downfall, as a calamity- the exact nature of which is uncertain, though theories abound from earthquakes to a meteor impact- redirected the river, causing major, out-of-season flooding followed by a prolonged drought which ended with both the Krios River and Lake drying up entirely. By its end, only one city of the kingdom would survive: the city that the Cybelians would name, and that the rest of the world would come to know, as 'Flanvel.'

But, the calamity that would trigger Duat's downfall was still more than a millennium away in Alondight's time. In his day, Mayfil, and the kingdom as a whole, faced a much more immediate threat: Bahamut's appointed Fiend General, the Warden of the Winds, Garuda.

- Dragonslayer, Chapter 6: The Seeress and the Warden of the Winds

Civilization. It was a word Sin knew. An idea he had once been enamored with. A place where someone could go, regardless of who they had been before, and start anew. Where someone could be different. Where they could become something greater than they once were.

But the childish embers that still lingered within his heart were extinguished upon laying eyes on Caprica- the bastion of civilization, and Jibril's home, for the first time. It was crowded, it was cramped, it was dirty. And it smelled. Sin had encountered all manner of noxious odors when hunting- musk, dung, the rot of festering wounds and corpses… but nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for the cacophony of smells that assaulted his nose the moment he set foot in the city, blended together into an odor so potent it seemed to sear his nostrils shut.

It wasn't like he had expected Caprica to be a paradise. Even without knowledge of the outside world, a part of him always knew better. Still, the reality was so much darker than even the lowest of his expectations. This wasn't a place of freedom, where one could rise above their past and forge a new future. If anything, the confines of the city seemed designed to crush the soul, to grind every last shred of individuality into the dirt beneath their feet. The people here were trapped. Perhaps not physically, but nonetheless bound by the invisible chains of their lives, driven by the relentless churn of daily routines and societal expectations. Their faces were etched with a weariness that aged them far beyond their years, their eyes empty of hope or joy.

"Are you alright, Sin?" Jibril asked. She glanced in his direction only briefly, not daring to take her eyes off the surge of humanity around them.

"I don't like this place," he said simply, the words barely rising above the din of the city.

"I agree…" Deneb added. "Rigel warned me that Caprica was suffering… but I didn't realize it was this bad."

Jibril stole another glance in their direction. "Something's changed. Things could be tough, but it was never like this…"

The three made their way to the heart of the city, to the markets. Jibril had claimed that traders from all across the known world did business there- it would be the best place to begin gathering information about Bahamut's remaining Generals. But, all at once, a wave seemed to sweep through the crowd surrounding them, voices rising into shouts and screams, objects clattering to the ground as they scattered like insects under a lifted stone, seeking shelter wherever they could find it. "What in the Seven Hells…" Deneb breathed.

Jibril however, quickly grabbed Sin's arm. "We need to get out of here!" she shouted over the chaos. "Now!"

But there wasn't enough time. There was a screech, and the sun's light dimmed briefly as something passed across it. Sin looked up, to see a figure soaring through the sky above them. It looked like a woman with wings… but it was abundantly clear to Sin that this was no angel. Its hands and feet ended in long, black talons, and its entire body was coated in a mix of white and pale green feathers, giving it a sickly appearance. And while it had the face of a woman, its expression was twisted into a cruel, contemptuous sneer, its eyes blazing like little suns. Its gaze swept over the city, falling on Sin and his party for the briefest of moments… but then, the winged woman continued her flight, quickly disappearing from the sky above them.

That was one of the Generals. Sin wasn't sure how he knew, but on some instinctive level, he recognized the malevolent aura that surrounded her. "That was one of Bahamut's Generals, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Jibril confirmed grimly, releasing Sin's arm. "That was Garuda."

"There's another General in this region?" Sin asked, looking in the direction the winged woman took off in. "I thought Hecatoncheir was the one in charge." During their trek after slaying the giant, Deneb and Jibril had explained that the world was divided into governances ruled by one of the Fiend Generals. And from her prior explanation, the alchemist had made it seem as though Hecatoncheir was responsible for the region that contained Kobol.

"Not all the Fiend Generals are given their own territories to govern," Jibril explained, "either because they're too destructive, or because they're not interested in ruling directly. Hecatoncheir was one of the former. And that other General who awakened him, Carbuncle, was the latter."

"And Garuda?" Sin asked.

"Neither. She's the appointed enforcer for this region. Though, with the death of both Ixion and Hecatoncheir, I imagine she's become more active than usual, either to expand her sphere of influence, or to prevent any of the other Generals from moving in and taking control."

After a few moments, the throngs of people slowly began to emerge from their shelters, whispering among themselves and casting fearful glances upwards. However, once it became clear that the winged woman would not return, the city gradually settled back into a semblance of normalcy. Though the air remained thick with tension, and the faces of the inhabitants were etched with unease.

The three moved on, their pace- while initially quick- slowed considerably by the surrounding throng. "I thought the Fiend Generals were allies," Sin remarked. "Why would they fight among themselves?"

"The Generals may be bound in service to Bahamut, but that hardly makes them allies," Jibril said, her voice low. "They constantly compete with one another to establish dominance within their hierarchy. The only reason they don't openly go to war…"

Sin stopped listening. A prickling was creeping up the back of his neck; a sensation he'd come to recognize as something approaching him from behind. It wasn't a hostile presence… but he couldn't say with certainty that it was friendly, either. The others showed no signs of noticing anything out of the ordinary- Jibril was still speaking, and Deneb was looking elsewhere, scanning the crowd. But there was no one around them who struck him as suspicious, and none seemed to have their attention on him.

He continued walking. But, after a few steps, he sensed it again, the strange feeling that something was following him. But no matter where he looked, he saw no one-

"You're rather brazen, to walk the streets while openly carrying Fiend General Ixion's horn as a trophy," a voice spoke from behind.

Sin whirled, a hand falling to the rough handle of Ixion's horn to confront the voice. The speaker was a man- or, at least, Sin assumed him to be a man. His face was concealed behind a white mask, with only two thin, curved slits where his eyes should be, his body hidden beneath rough-spun grey robes. He carried a staff in one hand, long and carved from some dark wood, a serpent shaped from gold winding up its length from end to end.

Sin narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"A messenger, sent by someone very interested in meeting you," The masked man gestured with his free hand. "Someone who would hear of the slaying of two of Bahamut's Generals." He leaned forward slightly. "And how one might do the same to a third."

"Sin…" Jibril whispered cautiously.

But Sin was… intrigued. Though some his party had encountered were resentful of living in the shadow of Bahamut and his Generals, few expressed any intention of taking direct action against them, and those that did were quickly silenced by reminders of the fates of those who once expressed similar sentiments. Yet here stood a man who spoke openly about casting down the Fiend Generals, and who seemed to have some connection to a group (or at least, an individual, presumably a high-ranking member of society at that) that shared a similar mindset.

"How can we be sure you're not an agent of Garuda?" Sin asked, trying to keep his curiosity from getting the better of him. "Or Bahamut, for that matter?"

The man chuckled, the sound muffled by his mask. "The lives of mere mortals like us are so far below Bahamut's notice that he would see us the way we would see ants. And as for Garuda, she has no patience for proxies. If she wished you dead, she would make it so by her own talons."

Sin considered the request for a moment. He wasn't entirely convinced, but… if this messenger truly represented a faction opposed to Bahamut's rule, even if just a small one, they could have information worth hearing. And even if it was some sort of trap, well… he'd faced worse dangers.

"Alright," Sin said finally, releasing his grip on Ixion's horn. "We'll hear out what you have to say."

The masked man nodded. "Come with me. Our sanctum is not far from here." Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode off through the crowd, motioning for Sin and his companions to follow.

Sin hesitated only briefly before falling into step behind the enigmatic figure. He glanced back over his shoulder at Jibril and Deneb, who looked equally uncertain. But neither seemed inclined to resist or abandon him in this situation, at least not yet. Together, the four wove through the throngs of people until they reached the edge of the market district, where the man led them into a tall, ornate building- its stony exterior was pocked with craters and chisel marks, as though something had once adorned their surfaces, only for someone to painstakingly remove it. The entranceway was guarded by two men in simple leather armor, their hands resting on the hilts of short swords at their belts. At the masked man's approach, they parted without a word, allowing him and the others inside.

Once within, Sin found himself in a grand hall with vaulted ceilings, lit by torches set into iron sconces along the walls- a necessary addition, as there were no windows on either the hall's interior or exterior. The air was thick with clouds of incense, an enormous flame blazing at the center of the chamber. Seated on cushions scattered all around the fire were dozens of robed figures, their faces obscured by hoods or masks- the smoke made it seem as though they were seated upon a sea of clouds, giving the space an almost otherworldly feel. They watched with keen interest as Sin and his party entered, the masked man leading the way. "Our temple may not be what it once was, but it remains a sanctum for those who still call the gods their masters," he said, moving among the seated figures, who bowed their heads as he passed.

"What do you mean?" Sin asked.

"Bahamut's reign has cast a long shadow over our world. Many have abandoned their faith in the gods, believing them powerless in the face of his dominance. Some have even taken to worshiping the Dragon and his Generals outright, believing it will spare them from his wrath." The masked man stopped before a figure draped in deep crimson robes, the hood obscuring their features entirely. He inclined his head in reverence. "But few and forgotten though we may be, there are still those who hold fast to the old ways. Those who know that the gods will not abandon us. Those who believe that hope has not yet perished from this world."

And where were the gods when Ixion killed my brother? Sin thought bitterly, but kept the question to himself. The last thing he needed to do now was to offend their potential allies within their own sanctum.

The figure in red rose to its feet, turning to face Sin. Under the hood was a woman, quite possibly the oldest person Sin had ever seen. Her skin was a latticework of age lines and wrinkles, and her hair was pure white, pulled back tightly from her face, and the hands clasped before her were gnarled and withered. But as she stood, she stood tall, nearly matching Sin himself in height, and her eyes were clear, almost… piercing. "You, who calls himself 'Sin,' who proved to all that the tyranny of Bahamut is not absolute… welcome to the Sanctum of Horus." Her voice was raspy, but held a strength that belied her years.

Still, Sin found himself unsettled. This woman, a stranger he had never met before today, living in a city he hadn't even known existed until recently, was staring at him like she could see into his very soul. And… perhaps she could. He knew nothing about her, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she saw right through him, down to the very core of his being. "And who are you, exactly?" he asked, attempting to keep the apprehension from creeping into his voice.

"Leoria," the woman replied. "High Priestess of Horus. And through the eternal flame of our temple, we have come to know your deeds, Sin. In its depths, we witnessed the fall of Ixion and Hecatoncheir, and with them, glimmers of hope."

Sin looked back at the great flame. Even before leaving Neith, he'd never put much thought into gods- the most he did was leave part of his kills at the village altar, to "give back to the earth," and even then, he always felt those offerings would be better spent helping the other villagers directly. So for this woman- Leoria- to claim to have seen his battles through some mystic flame, well… it was a hard claim to accept. But as he looked into the dancing flames, he felt as though he could… see something in them. A figure, of some sort… though exactly who or what-

"Sin?" Jibril interrupted his thoughts, nudging him gently with her elbow. "Are you alright?"

Sin shook his head, freeing himself from the strange pull the flame had placed on him. "Yeah. Just…"

"Ah, but, I'm certain you would rather speak of the present rather than the past," Leoria said, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. "Come, sit. You have questions for us, and we have answers for you." She gestured to a cushion near the fire, and Sin took it, trying to ignore the unsettling sensation of the High Priestess's gaze upon him. As he settled, the masked man moved to stand beside Leoria, while Jibril and Deneb followed suit, sitting down on either side of Sin. Leoria lowered herself onto a cushion opposite them, and the silence stretched between them for a long, tense moment.

"…I guess I'll start then," Sin began. "How can we be sure all this isn't just a trap?"

"Your concerns are not without merit, Sin," Leoria answered. "In times such as these, the Generals have eyes and ears in places both high and low. But rest assured, your suspicions are misplaced. For those who join our Sanctum must swear a sacred oath to Horus before his flame, a vow no true servant of his would willfully break. For should this Sanctum fall, so too would Kobol."

Sin frowned, but remained silent.

Leoria sighed. "I understand your concerns, young hunter. But please, know that our intent is to aid you, not betray you."

Sin looked to Jibril and Deneb- the former simply shrugged, and the latter, after looking to something only he could see, nodded. He was still unsure, but if they were willing to trust, so would he.

"Alright. So, you want us to kill another General, right? And I'm guessing you want us to kill Garuda next."

"Indeed. Garuda's death will weaken Bahamut's influence in the region. Should she fall, Kobol may yet be able to cast off the Dragon's yoke." Leoria's words were measured, but there was a hint of desperation beneath them. "And as for your methods… Well, as long as it ends with her corpse, we care not how you accomplish it." She paused momentarily, as though she wanted to add more, before saying, "Although… if you are able, I would ask that you strike her down in a place where a great many might witness it. To show the world that even the strongest of Bahamut's servants can fall, and that hope lives still in the hearts of those who resist."

Sin didn't reply. Garuda would die- there would be no debate on that front. But turning their battle into some sort of public execution… there were far too many ways for things to go wrong with that plan. Sin knew that by slaying the Fiend Generals, he would inevitably draw the ire of their comrades- and eventually their master, Bahamut himself- but to slay one of the Generals so openly…

Sin could feel Deneb and Jibril's eyes on him. They likely expected him to agree with Leoria's request, but as much as he may have wanted to see the Fiend Generals dead, as a hunter, he understood the importance of stealth and caution. The longer he could conceal himself, the better his chances of survival. "I will kill Garuda," he said finally. "I won't promise any more than that."

"And we ask no more of you, Sin," Leoria replied with a nod. "Only that you bring hope to the people of Kobol. That you remind them that, no matter how dark the night, the dawn will always follow."

Sin looked up at the ceiling, where the smoke from the burning incense swirled in lazy patterns. There may have been a time, when he had been enthralled by the thought of grand speeches and lofty ideals. But all of those things- all that he had been, all that he would ever be- had died with Sai, scattered to the wind along with his brother's ashes. He was no hero, no champion of the people. Whatever hope he might bring in slaying Garuda for these people, it would be born not from some righteous purpose, but from vengeance. From the deep, unquenchable need to see his brother's killer, and all those who would stand with him, suffer.

"I'll do what I can," he said finally, rising to his feet. "But if we're going to do this, we need information. Everything you have on Garuda- her habits, her temperament, anything you think might help us survive this." It was the most fundamental aspect of hunting: understanding your quarry. And while observing prey was one thing, dealing with a powerful Fiend General would be an entirely different beast altogether- it would take much more than simply observation at a distance to understand her fully.

"Of course." Leoria turned towards one of the seated figures. "Lescatié, show our guests to the archives. Bring them whatever they require."

The figure stood, drawing back their hood, revealing a young woman. Her appearance was… striking. Her skin was pale, her tousled hair the color of silver, and her eyes a dark-yet-vibrant blue. She looked to be about Sin's age, maybe a little younger, maybe older, but there was a certain maturity about her that went beyond her physical appearance. Her face showed little emotion, but as she spoke, her voice carried a warmth that contrasted with her stoic demeanor. "Follow me, please," she said, gesturing towards a door at the far end of the chamber.

Sin proceeded, descending a dark staircase into a much smaller, colder room lined with shelves packed with scrolls. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, and Sin had to stifle a cough as he and the others proceeded deeper. Lescatié led them to a small table, upon which lay several scrolls already unrolled. "Here is what we have gathered thus far," she said, laying a hand atop the scrolls.

"What's all this?" Sin asked, peering at the parchment curiously.

"Notes. Observations, mostly," Lescatié answered. "Anything we could find regarding Garuda, her movements, her habits."

The strange marks on the parchments were foreign to Sin- all he could do was trust that they indeed held the information he sought. "Can I ask a question?" Deneb said, before proceeding to ask, "Why do you already have information on Garuda? Were you planning to fight her yourselves? Or did you start after you found out about what Sin had done?"

"Our preparations began long before your arrival," Lescatié replied, her voice still calm and even. "Many have tried to stand against Garuda over the centuries. And all have failed. But, with each defeat, we learn more about her, and preserve that knowledge, passing it to the next soul who would try to strike her down." She spread her hand out across the parchment, and for the first time, Sin saw the faintest hint of emotion in her face- a sadness, deep and old, that had scarred her heart.

Jibril took a seat, taking up one of the scrolls. "Well, we may as well get started."

"You're surprisingly accepting of all this," Deneb remarked as he too took a seat.

The alchemist huffed faintly. "It's not like we can convince Sin to not fight her. At least this way, he'll be better prepared."

Sin looked at the scrolls. He understood that words were written on them, but what they actually conveyed was a mystery to him. But amid the writing, he found something more… tangible - a drawing. No… a map, meticulously sketched in charcoal. It looked like… a town. Or perhaps a village? "What is this?" he asked, pointing to the map.

Lescatié leaned forward. "This is a map of Garuda's current roost, a fortress to the north of the capital named Dalyth. In the past, Garuda had no fixed dwelling, roaming across all of Kobol freely, but as of late she has become far more reclusive, always keeping close to the capital. No doubt because the recent deaths of Ixion and Hecatoncheir have put her on edge."

Sin studied the map intently, committing every detail to memory. It wouldn't be the same as actually walking through the place, but it would have to do for now. And if there was anything he'd learned from hunting, it was that even the smallest scrap of information could mean the difference between life and death. "Do you have any other maps? Maps of the area around the fortress?"

"We should have a few." Lescatié gestured to a shelf nearby.

"When is she most active? And what does she do normally when she leaves the fortress…?" These and other questions followed, each one answered with quiet precision by Lescatié. Sin listened intently, absorbing every detail. This wasn't just another hunt; each piece of information, every scrap of knowledge, was a weapon in itself. And with each piece of information, plans were drawn, strategies laid out. The others spoke as well, sharing their own thoughts and theories about how best to approach this battle. Their minds buzzed with speculation, each trying to anticipate where things might go wrong. For the first time in… well, he wasn't quite sure how long, their group actually felt like comrades, allies, rather than just disparate individuals thrown together by circumstance.

But as time wore on, Sin felt a creeping sense of unease settle over him. Although he had already crossed the threshold when he killed Ixion, a sense of… finality settled upon him. If he won this battle, there would be no turning back. The Generals would not be idle for long. They would not allow his transgressions to go unanswered. They would come for him, with all the fury and rage and soldiers they could muster.

But, he would not allow himself to be intimidated. He would not allow himself to fear the inevitable. Because if he did, then his struggle would have no meaning. His purpose would have no meaning.

Sai's death… would have no meaning.

Sin's heart hardened. His resolve, his determination, would not waver.

Not here.

Not now.

Not ever.

Lescatié of Mayfil, the Libran, honored by the Church as the patron saint of scribes, historians, and all those who seek to create records for future generations, is regarded by many as perhaps the most important of Alondight's companions, as it was through meeting her that the Dragonslayer, and his companions, would officially enter the written record of history. The priestess's exact origins are a mystery, as her physical descriptions in historical documents are not consistent with the peoples of Duat, nor those of surrounding regions. What is known, however, is that she was taken into the Sanctum of Horus from an early age, and trained as a member of the order. As part of her education, she was taught to read, write, and track the turning of the stars, using these skills to produce the single greatest document pertaining to Alondight and his journey- her own journal, a meticulous record of every detail of their travels.

It is also through Lescatié's writings that the first descriptions of Alondight and his companions are found. Of the Dragonslayer himself, the priestess wrote following their first meeting: "He is a tall man, of twenty summers by my reckoning, with a build strong yet lean, his hair raven black and falling to his shoulders in loose waves. His face could be called handsome, but his is a harsh and austere countenance, as cold and distant as a mountain. But his eyes, red as the embers of a dying flame, strike me the most. Great pain dwells within them, a sorrow so profound that it seems to consume him utterly. And yet also they hold a great, and terrible anger. It lies dormant, but I know that one day, that anger shall awaken, and the world shall suffer most grievously when it does."

Descriptions of Alondight's other companions are also present, but much briefer. Of Jibril she wrote, "A girl of Kobol, black-haired and brown-eyed, clever, not much older than myself," while of Deneb, "an orange-haired, grey-eyed youth clad in furs who always seemed to be looking at something that only he could see." Though her observations of Jibril, Deneb, and others who would join forces with Alondight would expand with time, it is clear that from the very beginning, Lescatié's attentions were focused on the Dragonslayer. Scholars are split on whether this fascination was due to romantic intent, or simply a deep respect for Alondight's accomplishments- many within the Church (with the expected exception of the Sparrow) believe the latter to be more likely, while more secular historians are evenly divided between the two possibilities. Regardless, Lescatié's devotion to recording the Dragonslayer's story was unwavering, and it is through her writings that Alondight and his companions have endured through the centuries.

However, one question connected to Lescatié has never been definitively answered: that of the identity of the god to whom she dedicated herself, Horus. It is commonly accepted within the Church that the gods reveal themselves to different societies in forms tailored to align with those cultures' beliefs, and an important aspect of missionary work within the Church is finding parallels between the gods of the Church and those of indigenous faiths. Such connections can be found between the gods venerated by the Church, and those of old Cybele, Vinland, Peryn, and, naturally, Duat. However, while most Duati gods have equivalents within the Church (the god Ptah is identified with Hephaestus, Zehuti with Minerva, Bes with Hestia, and so on), no direct equivalent has ever been conclusively linked to Horus. The most popular theory, as established by Praetor Gillian Rosnair, is that Horus was the Duati interpretation of the Church's god of war, Ares; although, this theory fails to account for the Duati god Anhur, whose domain of war explicitly overlaps with Ares'. Other potential candidates have been proposed, but none have garnered the same degree of support. Some scholars, such as Lucille Dreyvus, historian and master librarian for the Kazas Imperial Library, speculate that Horus was a previous king of Duat who was deified posthumously- Dreyvus specifically identifies Duat's founder-king, Kheron. Naturally, the Sparrow provides his own radical theory: that Horus has no modern equivalent because he died before the Church came to power, most likely around the same time as the fall of Duat, though as with many of his assertions, the Sparrow provides no answers as to the exact cause or circumstances of Horus's death. However, a lack of evidence means no definitive answers can be given, leaving Lescatié's patron deity a curious enigma.

- Dragonslayer, Chapter 6: The Seeress and the Warden of the Winds

---

In the bed next to Abel, Holly stirred, letting out a faint groan before sitting up. "…Abel?" she said blearily. "Why're you still awake?"

Abel turned his gaze away from the pages of Dragonslayer. "I was having some trouble sleeping. Sometimes reading helps." He then shut the book, setting it aside. "I'm sorry if I woke you." Abel's cot on the Peregrine was slightly larger than the one he'd had on the Princess Louvia, but not by much- it was a tight fit for one person, let alone two. But, Holly insisted on sharing the space with him- even the possibility of the others catching her sneaking into his cabin wasn't enough to dissuade her. And, true to her word, nothing had happened since her attempt to "reward" him after returning to Flanvel. And for that, Abel was thankful. He wasn't sure what he would have done if things had gone further.

And, truthfully, he wasn't sure he wanted things to go further. That wasn't to say that he didn't want to be close to Holly. On the contrary, her presence had become something of a comfort to him; sleeping next to her gave him a peacefulness, an ease that before, only Lailah had been able to provide. But the idea of doing… anything more, was something else entirely. It was a line he didn't know if he could cross. Maybe someday, but not now. Not yet. Not to mention, if the others found out… even if nothing actually happened between the two, he wasn't sure how they would react.

"That's the book you took from Violet's estate, isn't it?" she asked. "The one about Alondight? …You haven't finished it yet?"

"Well, a lot of things have happened since I picked it up," he replied. "I haven't really had a whole lot of time to sit down and read it." He climbed out of the bed, stretching.

"Where are you going?"

"The… uh, outhouse," he said, creeping towards his cabin door. Abel was certain that wasn't the proper name for the small, cramped cabin at the rear of the ship where the crew handled… business, but he couldn't think of any other term for it. "I… won't be long. Probably."

"Oh no, take your time," Holly replied, looking a bit embarrassed.

Abel made his way out into the passage. It was dark, with only a few small lanterns hung on the walls to light the way. At this hour, only a handful of the crew would be awake and moving about. So, with little fanfare, Abel made his way to the privy. But on his way back, he heard voices speaking in one of the cabins further down the corridor. Their words were indistinct, but he distinctly recognized Captain Baird's voice. Curious, he drew closer.

"…ng on, Joe?" a muffled woman's voice said. Abel recognized this voice, too- it belonged to Cinquedea. "It's not like you to call on me like this."

Joe? Abel didn't realize Captain Baird and Cinquedea were on a first name basis. For that matter, he hadn't realized Captain Baird's first name was "Joe." But Abel's thoughts were interrupted when Baird then said, "A question, actually. I recognize Cybelian slave tattoos, but I gotta ask- what's the three daggers mean? I know two crossed daggers is used fer gladiators, but the third is new ta me."

"Ah, that. Well, I wasn't always a gladiator. Originally, I was bought to be a courtesan. But when my first customer got a bit too rough, I fought back and ended up breaking his arm. Of course, laying hands on a client- and a patrician at that- is an unforgivable offense. So, I got branded with the mark of the condemned and thrown into a coliseum with an angry lion and nothing but a sharp stick to defend myself."

"But obviously, ya survived."

"Yep. Didn't kill that lion, but I impressed someone in the audience enough that they decided to spare me by buying me and bringing me into their gladiator stable. They tried to cover up the condemned brand with the crossed blades… and that's how I got this." Abel imagined Cinquedea was showing Baird the tattoo in question. "After that, I found that I had a knack for fighting. Gladius, spear, net, trident… I was good with them all. Like fighting was what I was born to do. Made a good name for myself, won a lot of fights, made my owner a lot of money. But somehow… it was never enough for me to buy my freedom. My owner would keep telling me, 'one more fight. Just one more. Then you'll have enough.' But there was always another fight. And then when I found out I was gonna be sold to some other dickhead, well… let's just say me and the rest of that stable suddenly didn't have an owner anymore. But obviously, it wouldn't take long for the authorities to come after us. So, we stole our old owner's personal yacht and made our break. The empire sent a ship after us- a small one, instead of one of their war galleys. There were only about twenty of us at the time, but we managed to overpower the other crew and take their ship. And from that day on, in the eyes of the empire… we were pirates." Cinquedea sounded almost… proud as she said this, but the pride quickly faded as she continued. "We had a decent run. Lasted a lot longer than I expected we would- a year, maybe a year-and-a-half. But eventually, we ran into something we couldn't handle. Spotted some little tradecarrier heading out of Lohan and figured it'd be an easy mark. Turns out though that there wasn't any cargo- just a whole fucking lot of sellswords. It was a trap to lure in pirates like us. But it wasn't the Cybelians who laid that trap, or the Istari. No- it was a trade company. The Vargo Group. And we got to meet its head in person that day. I think you know him too."

"Kamash Vargo…" Baird replied with a dry tone.

"Yep. And he gave us a choice. Either we all die right then and there, or we work for him, stealing shipments carried by rival companies. Officially of course we had no connection to him, and if we were ever caught, well… I'm sure you can guess. We were allowed to keep whatever we looted from our marks, and Vargo even pulled some strings somewhere to swing us a better ship. And we did well. Real well. But then, we got orders to hit a specific mark. But it wasn't for a ship- it was for a person. The Ghost of Lohan. Or rather… Vargo's daughter, Bell."

"I think I can figure out what happened next," Baird said. So could Abel. He had to admit, he was starting to feel bad for Cinquedea. She had always been confrontational, callous… but considering everything Abel had just heard, it wasn't hard to imagine why she was like that.

"So," Cinquedea then said. "I told you a lot more than you asked, Joe. Now, you gotta tell me something. How did you end up working for Vargo?"

There was a brief pause, before Baird replied with a question in return. "…Does the name Bartholomew Stenring mean anythin' ta you?"

"Bartholomew Stenring…? Hold on, are you talking about Black Bart?"

"The one an' only. Though he always hoped people would call 'im 'Bart the Liberator' someday."

"Wait, how do you know him?"

"Because I was part of his armada." Baird let out a small chuckle, though it didn't sound happy. "…I was only a third mate at the time, but I was there right alongside Bart, sailin' up and down the coast of Cybele, liberatin' slaves, stealin' ships, and burnin' slavers wherever we found 'em."

"Huh… no shit." Cinquedea sounded… awed. "You ran with Black Bart. Even when I was still a gladiator, I'd heard of him." She huffed. "As embarrassing as it was, before we freed ourselves, I always kinda hoped he'd launch a raid against Zebatos, and free us, and let us join him."

Baird chuckled again. This time, it did sound a little happier. "I can assure you, he would've welcomed ya with open arms." But again, his tone shifted, and he continued, A pause. "But we could only keep it up fer so long. The Cybelian fleet eventually caught up to us, and took us by surprise in a cove not far from Küre. We scattered like roaches, but in the end… only my ship got away. But we didn't get far. Even if we'd gotten away from the imperials, we were still wanted men on two continents. It didn't take long for someone to come to collect. And that someone turned out to be the Istari. We were captured 'nd dragged back to Lohan to be hanged… until we were granted pardons, at the behest of a merchant by the name of Kamash Vargo." There was a gulp, as if Baird was taking a drink, then he continued. "We were under Vargo for nine years, running his… less than ethical merchandise. Slavery's illegal most places outside Cybele, but ya'd be surprised how many people are still willin' ta buy. And when demis are involved, well… it was easy persuadin' authorities to turn a blind eye. Then… Vargo got put away. An' then the Church started askin' around, looking fer a boat to take one of their Champions to their headquarters in Lescatie. We had a chance to make a clean break… so I took it. And… well, you know the rest."

Cinquedea didn't reply. The silence stretched for a while, before she finally said, "Wow. Just… wow." Another pause. "I always assumed Bartes whole crew was killed. Never thought any of them survived. And I didn't think you of all people would have been part of his crew. How'd you end up joining him anyway?"

"Well before I tell ya that, I need to tell ya a little bit about Bart himself. He was a noble- don't remember from where, exactly- but he gave up his title, sold his lands, and spent all his money buyin' a ship and recruitin' a crew. And that's where I came in. He sailed into the port where I lived looking fer people ta join him. I was young, stupid, and I was angry, so when he offered to pay me, I accepted. I started as his quartermaster. And a damn good one too. An' when I proved I could hold my own in a fight, he had me promoted. Eventually put me in charge of one of his fleet's ships- the Rebellion."

"A noble, huh? I always thought nobles were self-centered pricks who didn't give a shit about anything other than filling their pockets. Still… why give up the good life? Why become a pirate?"

"That's somethin' that you, me, an' everyone else who ever knew Bart wanted ta know. He had his reasons, I'm sure, but truth is… we never really got an answer. But, it was like there was a… callin', deep in his soul that drove him to do what he did. Fer Bart, freein' slaves was as normal as breathin' would be fer you an' I." Baird sighed. "He was the best captain I ever served under. The best friend I ever had - the best friend… I'll ever have."

Abel finally pulled away from the cabin door. He'd listened for far longer than he'd intended, and heard more about both captains than he'd ever expected to hear. It had been his intent to learn more about his companions as his quest continued, but perhaps he needed to expand his scope to include Baird and Cinquedea as well. And Nephrys- and perhaps the rest of the Peregrine's crew. But as he walked away, he heard Cinquedea's voice, more muffled but still intelligible, say "Y'know, I still got the courtesan tattoo. It's a flower. Right over my snatch. …wanna see it?" Before Baird could give his answer. Abel quickly hurried back to his own cabin, deciding that he had definitely heard enough for one day.

Back in his own cabin, Holly was still lying in his bed, the blankets drawn up around her, having seemingly gone back to sleep in Abel's absence. Quietly, he climbed into bed, slipping a hand around Holly's waist. She shifted, murmuring faintly, "…n't touch my belly, Lissa…" But she didn't wake up. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but think about the stories he'd just heard. He thought he understood that the world could be a cruel place, full of people who sought to cause harm for no other reason than because they could. But hearing those stories made him realize just how much worse things could get. For all the suffering he had endured, there were others out there who had endured pains worse than he could possibly imagine. It was enough to make him feel like he'd only scratched the surface of the darkness that lay ahead.

Enough to make him question if slaying the Overlord would truly make a difference to their world.

Abel tried to push those thoughts from his mind. For now, he had to focus on the present. On the task before him. On defeating Overlord. He would worry about the future once he was certain the world would have a future.

---

"And… there we are," Raine said faintly, tracing a line over Abel's map.

Everyone gathered to give the map a better look. "So? Where are we headed?" Seth asked.

Raine looked closely at where the lines intersected. "It looks like… an island off Bastok's north coast, past the Ermisian border. Map doesn't have a label for it, though…"

"That would most likely be Nerivik," Minze then said.

"Nerivik…" Lailah repeated, slowly.

"You know something about it?" Abel asked.

A moment passed before she finally shook her head. "It… sounds familiar, but…"

Minze stepped in again. "Nerrivik is the site of the battle between Alondight's party and the Fiend General Mishiva. Although, during Alondight's time, it was a small kingdom, home to a fortress-city known as Palaven. But when Alondight struck the killing blow against Mishiva, her power was released in a massive explosion of frost that enveloped not only the island itself and the surrounding sea, but also a large swath of northern Bastok. Although most of the ice would recede, Nerivik itself remains frozen, even millennia after Mishiva's death." The maid then turned her gaze toward Abel, an odd expression on her face. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize the name, Abel. You are reading Dragonslayer, aren't you?"

"I guess I haven't gotten to that part of the story yet…" Abel said with a sigh.

"Well, now you know," Raine said. "And now that we all know where we're going, let's have a chat with the captain." It had been just over a week and a half since the Peregrine had departed from Flanvel. Although they had sailed north, they had no real destination in mind, only stopping once they'd reached a port on Mavors's southern shore, where Abel could use his amulet to find the next of Alondight's altars. However…

"Not a chance," Cinquedea said flatly, before muttering, "It would've been nice to get some warning ahead of time…"

"Why not?" Seth asked. "Is Nerivik supposed to be cursed too? Like Ulara?"

Baird stepped in. "Nerivik is right in the middle of the Sea of Perdita, a sea that's full of icebergs all year round. Even with a skilled navigator, we can't guarantee they wouldn't smash the Peregrine into splinters. And with winter setting in, things'll only get more unpredictable."

"It'd be a long trip, too," Neprhys added. "At least as long as it took to reach Zipangu the first time around. Probably longer. It'd be faster for you to cross over land, if nothing else."

So it wasn't because of a curse, but very real, very tangible dangers. Ones that could give two seasoned captains and a skilled navigator pause. But it wasn't as though not going to Nerivik was an actual option. One of Alondight's altars was there, after all. Abel would find a way to get there- the only real question was how.

"I think that traveling over land would be our best option," Minze then said. "The heartlands of Ermis are well-traveled, and relatively safe. We could simply follow the roads until we reach Argrytis. Or, we could find a barge to take us up the Stier River to Kazas. It won't get us all the way to the border, but it will save us time. Not to mention, we'll need supplies and equipment better suited for the northern climes. And with winter setting in, we'll likely need them sooner rather than later."

"Sounds expensive, though…" Lailah muttered.

"A shame we left that merchant girl back in Flanvel," Claire said. "We could've used those deep pockets of hers."

Abel glanced around, almost expecting Liz to materialize from thin air at the mere mention. Sadly, such was not the case.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with walking," Raine then said. "And if we're hard up for cash, there's nothing wrong with earning it the old-fashioned way: killing monsters and getting the Fighter's Guild to pay us for it."

"Couldn't we just circle around Mavors?" Seth asked. "Then go ashore at the city that's closest to Nerivik?"

Nephrys pulled out a bundle of parchments- maps- before showing one in particular, though Abel wasn't able to identify precisely where the map was showing. "The northern shores of Bastok have always been rough seas, even in the summer. Not to mention, there's few cities up there. The closest town to Nerivik is a fishing town called Chatturat, and it's all the way over here, right on the border between Mavors and Cyllene." He pointed to a mark on the map that presumably marked the town in question. "It's a little closer to Nerivik than Argrytis, but not by much. And with how rough the shoreline is, you'll lose that advantage pretty quickly." As he tucked away the chart, he continued, "But at the end of it all, it's Sir Abel's decision to make."

All eyes turned to Abel. In truth, he'd already made his decision. For him, "winter" was merely a word- he understood at some level that it meant colder weather, snow, ice… things that, before beginning his journey, would have been just as alien as giant serpents that could take the form of a woman and monsters that could turn living people to stone. He'd never seen a snowflake before, much less an iceberg. Before witnessing the power of Xiao's Relic, he'd never experienced true cold. But now, they would be venturing into a world where "winter" was far more than just a word, but a reality that could kill him as easily as any monster.

And if it was a choice between traveling across land and facing the perils of the frozen sea, Abel's choice was clear. "We'll travel over land," he said, hoping his voice didn't betray the apprehension he felt within. "Minze, where would the best place to begin our journey be?"

The maid nodded, her expression one of satisfaction. "I would suggest either the city of Arecibo, or the city of Berkel. Both are in Derain, on Ermis's southern coast- Arecibo is larger, but Berkel is closer to the Stier River."

"I say we go with this 'Berkel,'" Claire said. "The Empire's a big place, and I'd rather avoid having to walk its whole length. Especially if we're going to be hauling around a bunch of winter gear with us."

"I believe we should sail up to Kazas as well," Violet added, a gleam in her eye. "I have always wanted to see the imperial capital with my own eyes." A moment passed before she added, "…And if it means a more direct path to Nerivik, so much the better."

"The Stier River is two hundred milia long though… I can't imagine there's a ferry that runs its whole length," Lailah said. Her brow was furrowed, her mouth creased into a frown. "And even if there was, how much would it cost us to use it? We aren't exactly made of gold."

Raine slipped alongside the priestess, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "C'mon Sis, you forget that Blue's a Hero? He can probably swing us a discount."

Abel stepped forward- he thought to place a hand on Lailah's shoulder, before thinking better of it. "We can worry about that once we're in Ermis. For now, let's just focus on getting there safely." His gaze shifted to Baird. "Captain Baird, set a course for Berkel."

"Aye lad," Baird responded with a nod, before turning to face the deck and calling out, "Alright you sorry sods, we're shoving off for Ermis! I want everything loaded and strapped down by sundown. And don't give me any lip or you'll be scrapin' barnacles off the hull!"

A day would pass before winds were favorable enough for the Peregrine to leave port. When they finally did, Abel felt a sense of unease that he couldn't quite explain. It wasn't fear, not exactly- though that was a close second. It was something more primal, something that had nothing to do with monsters or icebergs. Something was wrong- he could feel it, but he couldn't say what exactly it was.

They sailed west for several days, Abel and the others intermittently plotting the route they would take to the north, discussing possible stops at various cities along the Stier River, and the best roads to take from Kazas to the northern border. All the while, the feeling of unease, that something was amiss, didn't dissipate. If anything, it grew stronger as they drew closer to their destination. And Abel's unease did not go unnoticed. One day, as he sat at a table in the ship's galley, absently staring at one of the maps showing Ermis and its roads in detail, his thoughts were interrupted by something warm and furry winding its way around his legs. He looked down, to find a golden fox staring up at him.

"Oh, Tamayatsu," he said. "Did you need something?"

The fox hopped onto the bench Abel was seated on, shifting to her human form with a pop and puff of smoke. "You seem troubled, Lord Hero," she said, as she sat next to him, regarding him with her large brown eyes. "Ever since we left that port. Is something the matter?"

Abel wasn't sure what he could tell her- how could he possibly explain his disquiet to her, when he couldn't even explain it to himself? "…I don't know. Something's not right. I can feel it. But… I don't know what."

"Perhaps you are simply anxious. We are, after all, heading into unfamiliar territory. But don't fear, Lord Hero. I will protect you." He reached up, patting his head. He could only imagine what the scene would have looked like if someone else were watching them- a Champion receiving assurances from a little girl. But her words, as well-intentioned as they were, did little to quell his unease. Something Tamayatsu seemed to notice. The fox-girl's expression shifted from reassurance to concern, and she said, "Lord Hero, there is a way to dispel the fog of fear. I could help you with that."

"Really?" he said idly, not really believing her.

"Yes. I know a very special spell. One that will make you forget all your troubles."

"…what sort of spell is it?"

"It's quite simple. First, you must place your face against my chest."

"…what?" Abel immediately had misgivings about this "spell."

"I promise you it'll work. Now just- get down here." She reached up, putting her hands on his head and trying to pull him against her chest. He chose not to resist- if nothing else, going along with Tamayatsu would at least make her happy, even if anyone who happened to pass by might find their current situation somewhat… suspect. The fox-girl pressed his face against her chest, wrapping her arms around his head… but, that was all. A warmth spread through him, but it didn't do much for his unease. As he sat there, his face squished against the fox-girl's chest, there was suddenly a pop, and he suddenly found his face buried in a much larger chest, one that definitely didn't belong to Tamayatsu, cutting off his breath. His eyes opened, and he flailed, trying to free himself, before pulling himself back hard enough to not only escape the stranger's grasp, but send himself flying out of his seat. When he finally managed to look, sure enough, it was no longer Tamayatsu seated next to him.

"Are you okay, Lord Hero?" Zaramatsu asked, helping him up from the floor.

"Was… this supposed to be part of Tamayatsu's spell, too?" He looked around, hoping no one had witnessed this little incident.

The black fox-girl nodded eagerly. "That's right. Sister says the best remedy for unease in a young man"s heart is a warm embrace in a soft bosom."

Abel sighed. And he'd thought that Tamayatsu was the responsible sister.

"Now then," Zaramatsu said, standing and turning to face him. She held out her arms, beckoning, "Come here, Lord Hero. I promise, a warm hug will make you feel better. I trust Big Sister. You should too." She bounced on her heels, making her breasts bounce enticingly, as if deliberately trying to draw Abel's attention to them. And as much as he hated to admit it, her efforts were definitely working. They were… bigger than he remembered. In fact, he was certain that the fox-girl's chest was bigger than Holly's - it just wasn't as obvious because Zaramatsu was so much taller than the mercenary, making her chest appear more proportionate to her overall frame. But her breasts were definitely big, and they looked soft, and comfortable, and…

Wait. No, no, no. His mind was wandering into very dangerous territory, and he was not going to let his thoughts go down that path. He was not going to think about Zaramatsu's breasts, or the way they bounced when she moved. Or the way they seemed perpetually ready to spill out of her shirt at any moment, or how no, no, stop that, stop thinking about that.

"I- …I think… I'll be okay for now," he finally said, turning away, the act proving much more difficult than he'd anticipated. "I'll… let you know if I need anything, alright?" Without waiting for a response, Abel turned and left, trying not to make it seem like he was in a rush. He felt like he could breathe once he was finally out of Zaramatsu's line of sight, but that relief was short-lived. Now he was plagued by feelings of unease, thoughts of the black fox-girl's ample bosom, and serious questions about the golden fox girl's intentions. Once again, he found himself longing for the days when monsters and assassins were the worst of his problems- at least those things had motives he could understand.

Abel was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn't notice someone coming down the passageway until he'd ran right into them. Abel was knocked back, hitting the deck with a thump, but whoever he'd run into didn't so much as stagger. "Oh, sorry Blue. Didn't see you there," Raine said, with a smile. "You alright?"

"Yeah," he replied, rubbing his back where he'd hit the deck. "Just, thinking." He stood up, brushing off his pants. "So, what's going on? Are we plotting our route up to Nerivik again?"

"Nope," she responded. "I just had a feeling that you might be in some kind of trouble, so I came to check on you. Guess my instincts aren't as sharp as I thought."

"Trouble? No, nothing like that." Abel's response came quickly- too quickly. She'd definitely suspect something now. "Just… trying to figure something out."

Raine didn't respond. Instead, she looked at Abel closely. She put her hands on his shoulders, her eyes opening slightly as she gazed at him with a surprising intensity. "Blue…" she finally said, her voice soft. "… Abel. You know you can talk to me if there's anything bothering you, right? Anything at all. Like if you're worried about your quest, or having… girl troubles?" A knowing smile crept onto her face.

Absolutely not, Abel thought to himself. There was no chance that telling Raine about his "girl troubles" would do anything other than make them worse. He shook his head, trying to seem nonchalant. "No, no, it's nothing like that. I'm just… worried about the road ahead. That's all."

But Raine didn't look convinced. Her eyes seemed to bore into his very soul, and Abel found himself wondering if she somehow knew exactly what had happened with him, Tamayatsu, and Zaramatsu. The way she was looking at him now certainly made him feel like she knew.

But eventually, she let go of Abel's shoulders and stepped around him "Alright, Blue," she said. "If you're sure you're okay, then I'll let you go." As she moved away, she called out, "Don't forget I'm always here for you though!" before disappearing from view.

As Abel watched Raine depart, a new layer of unease settled over him. She definitely knew- her emphasis on "girl troubles" was a bit too… pointed to have been an accident. He let out a long breath. The day they reached Berkel could not come fast enough.

As it turned out, however, that day was further off than Abel expected. It would be four days before the Peregrine was able to pull into a port, the crew scrambling about, securing the mooring lines and readying the gangplank. This port, however, was not Berkel, but a town named Lessing, about a day's travel from Abel and his companions' intended destination. According to Nephrys, the Peregrine's draft- the amount of the boat that was beneath the water- was too deep to sail up the Stier safely without running aground, meaning Abel and the others would have to continue the rest of the way on foot. As he looked at the small town from the Peregrine's deck, Abel felt an unfamiliar chill in the air, a bite that seemed to reach him even through his jacket- and from what he understood, things would only get colder as they traveled northward.

"Guess this is goodbye for now, lad," Baird said, stopping next to Abel and looking out over the small town. "You watch yerself out there, got it?"

"We might be gone for a while," Abel replied. "A lot longer than we have before. Are you alright with staying in port for so long?"

"The crew could use a rest. And we'll give the Peregrine a once-over 'fore we head out again." Baird clapped a hand on Abel's shoulder. "But we'll be keepin' ourselves busy, don't you worry. Just take care of yerself. And don't let anything happen to those lasses ya got with ya."

"I'll do my best," Abel said. There wasn't much else to be said after that, so the two men simply exchanged nods, before Abel and his companions departed the ship.

The sun was already well past its peak when they disembarked and entered the town, which wasn't much more than a collection of houses built on a hill overlooking the shore. There wasn't even a store where they could buy supplies for the road… all the more reason to make their way to Berkel as quickly as possible. Hopefully their meager rations would hold them over until they reached their destination.

"I must admit, I am quite excited to see the heartlands of Ermis," Violet said, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "There is Kazas of course, but I believe our route will also take us near the Plane of Admeti- it was the site of one of the first major battles of the Ermisian Civil War, and one of Emperor Diedrick's earliest victories."

"Lady Violet, this isn't a holiday…" Minze admonished.

At some point, Zaramatsu and Tamayatsu had switched places, and as the group walked, the golden fox-girl's ears twitched incessantly. "There's something… not right with this land," she muttered, frowning. "I can feel it."

"What do you mean? "Abel asked.

Tamayatsu turned to face him, her ears flattening against her head. "I don't know. It's… hard to explain. The energies of this land feel… constricted. As if there's something… weighing down on them."

"Energies of the land? What a bunch of nonsense," Claire scoffed.

"Hold on, Prez, let's not jump to any conclusions," Raine cautioned, her eyes fixed intently on Tamayatsu. "Goldie is a divine servant. They're supposed to be more sensitive to things like this." She opened her jacket pocket, and asked, "Hey Parrot, you feel anything weird?"

Niel emerged from the witch's pocket, fixing Raine with a glare. "Very funny, Raynare. You know I can't sense these things anymore…"

Though Abel held his silence, he couldn't deny that Tamayatsu was correct. He could feel something too- a sense of heaviness, a weight upon their shoulders. But it didn't feel like it came from something as vague as "energies in the earth." No, whatever this feeling was, it felt much more immediate, much more tangible. But still, he couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was.

Before long, the small port was behind them, replaced by rolling countryside dotted with clusters of trees with needle-like leaves. They kept to the banks of the Stier until night began to fall, making camp as the moon hung low over the hills. Despite the remote surroundings, the night was uneventful, and at dawn, they set out once more. And before long, the group spotted grey stone walls, rising up over the horizon ahead. The others chattered excitedly at the sight… but the feeling of unease washed over Abel with renewed strength. Berkel was right there. So close. So why did he feel so unsettled? The answer came as the party grew closer. As they approached, bells began to sound, and the gates of Berkel swung shut, a massive iron lattice dropping down to bar the gates further.

"What… is going on?" Violet asked, her voice laced with concern.

"They didn't close the gates because of… us, did they?" Holly asked, glancing nervously to the others.

Raine folded her arms over her chest as she looked up at the walls. "Well we're not gonna find out what's going on by standing out here all day," she declared. "Let's see what's going on."

The group approached the gates tentatively. But they wouldn't get very far. From the top of the walls, a commanding voice shouted, "Halt! You will come no further, Whoremonger!"

Abel blinked, taken aback by the sudden insult. He looked up to its source- a man atop the wall, clad in a surcoat over his armor patterned with large red-and-white squares, flanked by other soldiers wearing similar attire.

"'Whoremonger?' Is he… talking about Abel?" Seth asked.

"I don't see anyone else here that would warrant such an accusation," Claire replied dryly.

"Would someone kindly explain what is going on here?" Violet inquired, bewildered.

Lailah then stepped forward. "Let me talk to them," she said, before calling up to the soldier, "Sir, we are simply trying to make our way north. We mean no harm."

The soldier sneered- but his attention was focused not on Lailah, but Abel. "If that's true, then release your prisoners and submit yourself to the Church's judgement, Whoremonger!"

"Prisoners? What the hell is he talking about?" Seth said, her tone sharp.

The unease Abel had felt all this time suddenly made sense. His gaze flicked over to Raine, and he saw that she was already looking his way, as if she had had the same thought as him.

However, Lailah wasn't deterred. "Abel is a chosen Champion, recognized by the Praetor and the Church! You are obligated to provide aid to him in his quest to defeat the Overlord!"

"We're under no obligation to aid the likes of him!" the guard spat. "And unless your 'champion' intends to surrender himself to the Church's judgement, then we won't let him or any associated with him set foot in our city!"

Lailah seethed openly, shouting up at the guard, "You think these walls will stop us!?"

"We have more than just walls, wench! Archers!" The other men on the ramparts, well over two dozen, raised their bows and, each one aimed directly at Lailah. "Take even one step forward and your quest ends, here and now!"

Lailah's foot rose, as if to take a defiant step forward. But Abel rushed forward, taking her by the wrist. Some of the soldiers shifted their aim to him, but his focus was entirely on the priestess. "Lailah," he said, a bit more harshly than he intended. "It's alright. We should leave."

"Abel…" She began.

"It's obvious we aren't welcome," he replied. "We'll have to try our luck with another town."

The priestess frowned, but nodded silently, allowing herself to be pulled back. As the group turned to leave, Abel could feel the soldiers' eyes on him, as if they were trying to bore holes through him. Once they were out of earshot, Claire huffed, "I have a question for you, degenerate. You said we'd have to find supplies somewhere else… but what if that place turns us away as well?"

"Then we'll go to the town after that," Abel said simply. "And if they turn us away, we'll go to the next one. And the next, until we find some place that will let us in." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Look… I know this isn't ideal. But right now, we don't have much choice. Picking fights with every town that turns us away won't help."

"But why is this happening?" Violet asked, her voice filled with confusion. "As Lailah said, I was under the impression that citizens had an obligation to assist the Champions in their quests…"

But before an answer could come, Fiann abruptly spun around, drawing her axe and pointing it at something- a cloaked figure that was following their group. "Wait!" the figure said, raising his hands as if attempting to placate them. "I'm not your enemy!"

"Who are you? What do you want?" Raine demanded.

The figure approached cautiously, drawing back his hood, revealing that he was a man with wavy black hair… and a single large eye that dominated his face. Abel was instantly reminded of Rikho, the girl from Hephaestus's domain. The others murmured among themselves. "One eye?" Violet questioned, while Seth said in a low voice, "A demi-human…"

The one-eyed man bowed his head. "I saw what happened at the gates just now. If you're looking for somewhere to stay, I live in a settlement not far from Berkel. We can help you." The man then added, "I'm Kael, by the way."

"A settlement?" Claire said dubiously. "You mean a menagerie…"

Abel glanced toward the president. "A menagerie? What're you talking about?"

Raine quickly leaned in. "Hey Blue? Remember when we visited the demi-human block the first time we were in Lohan? And how I said some towns don't even let demi-humans inside? Well, for places like that, demi-humans usually build their own towns nearby. People have a lot of different names for those places, most of them… not very polite. In Mavors, the name people use is 'menagerie.'"

"We can't offer you much, I'm afraid…" Kael then cut in. "But what we can offer is yours, if you'll have it."

Abel turned to look at the others, trying to gauge their reactions. They ranged from Lailah and Holly's hesitance to Claire's revulsion. Only Violet and Tamayatsu showed a lack of reservation. But no one spoke up to dissuade him. "Alright," he said finally. "Let's go see this settlement."

Kael led the way- not away from Berkel, as Abel expected, but around the town's walls. And there, at the base of the wall, Abel saw a menagerie for the first time. To call it a "settlement" was far too generous. The buildings were little more than shacks, scraped together with whatever materials the demi-humans could get their hands on to provide the barest level of shelter, and tightly packed together to form narrow, winding streets. Abel was surprised by how large it was- it certainly didn't compare to the likes of Aglis or Enji, or even to the town it was built alongside, but it was still larger than Abel had expected. And judging from the amount of demi-humans that crowded the narrow streets, Kael's "settlement" was home to many more than Abel would have guessed. Like the demi-human block in Lohan, the residents were demi-humans with all sorts of features- horns, fangs, tails, scales… but unlike in Lohan, every one the group passed eyed them with suspicion, distrust… even hostility.

"By the way, boy, can I ask you something?" Kael suddenly said.

"Huh? What is it?"

You're… Abel, aren't you? Bacchus's Champion."

Abel was taken aback, but only for a moment. It felt as though it happened a long time ago, but in Aglis, Damia had said that there probably wasn't a single demi-human in Bastok that didn't know about him. Still, he tried to downplay Kael's question. "I think you might be mistaking me for someone else."

The one-eyed man looked back at Abel with a knowing smile. "No, I don't think I am. I know how humans look at my kind- like how that one is looking at me now." His eye briefly darted to Claire, who visibly flushed before looking away. "But you… you don't have that look in your eyes. Not to mention, you look just like how everyone describes Bacchus's Champion: a young, frail-looking man with blue hair and a swarthy complexion, traveling with a large party of female companions."

Abel let out a long breath. He really shouldn't have been surprised that those features would be how he'd be recognized, and yet it still managed to catch him off-guard. "Alright, you got me," Abel admitted.

Kael faced forward, but not before Abel saw the smile on the one-eyed man's face. He led them to a structure that… in all honesty, could have been anything - it looked no different from the other shacks scattered through the settlement, and gave no hint of what lay within. Pushing aside the patchwork cloth that served as its door, they entered the dim interior.

The room within was cramped, filled with ramshackle tables and chairs, the far wall dominated by casks and bottles of various colors and shapes- a tavern, Abel realized. It was mostly empty, but the few patrons within gave Abel and his group cold glares, setting aside their tankards- only when Kael approached them, speaking in hushed tones, did the atmosphere shift slightly. The patrons slowly returned to their drinks, though their gazes remained fixed on the party, as though watching a pack of predators.

"Definitely not the friendliest welcome," Raine muttered under her breath.

"You'll have to forgive the others here," Kael said. "Humans who come here rarely bring good intentions with them. But please, make yourselves at home. The ale here isn't very strong, but we have plenty of it." He then said, "I'll be right back. Please, wait here," before slipping away.

"Spending the day in a menagerie tavern…" Claire muttered. "What in the world has my life come to…?"

"I always thought the demi-humans in Lohan were treated poorly, but…" Seth said, before trailing off.

"We should look at the positives in this situation," Violet then said, glancing around the tavern. "We have a roof over our heads for the night. And I imagine that this Kael fellow will be able to help us procure the supplies we need. That was our goal, was it not?"

Holly's brow furrowed. "I… suppose all of that is true, but… why would the town guards turn Abel away? And the way they were talking about him… they made it sound like he was some sort of criminal. I don't understand it."

Fiann pulled out her journal, and wrote something in it, the letters sharp with anger. [Could they have mistaken you for that other Champion?]

"'Other Champion?' You mean Shavran?" Abel asked. The bard nodded.

"Doubt it…" Raine said, folding her arms over her chest. "Blue and Shavran are as different as two men can get. My bet is something else." For a brief moment, her eyes cracked open, her gaze falling on Abel. Though she said nothing more, he thought he understood her message- like him, she suspected that Cardinal Szandor was somehow involved in their troubles.

Abel tried to view their situation as optimistically as Violet had, but he couldn't deny that his companions' concerns were justified. Why would the guards be so hostile toward him? And what would they do if they encountered more towns like Berkel? As Kael returned, holding a tray of mugs, Seth muttered, "I hope this isn't going to become a recurring problem for us."

Kael passed the mugs around to the others- no small feat, with how many people were in the group. The ale inside was pale, and cloudy, tasting little different from water. The one-eyed man began to speak again- something about what supplies they could spare- but Abel was only vaguely listening. Seth's words hung in his mind. He also hoped that their current situation wouldn't become a regular occurrence… but the feeling of unease that had been growing since they set their next course didn't seem to be fading. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, Abel couldn't help but feel that things would only get worse going forward. He wanted to be wrong. He genuinely did. But he couldn't shake off the nagging sensation that he wouldn't be.

---

The group's stay in the menagerie outside Berkel would not be a long one. They'd spent the rest of the night at the tavern, getting what rest they could on the rough wooden floor. In the morning, Kael and the other demi-humans gathered what supplies they could spare- mostly food, but a few other odds and ends as well. It wasn't much, but it was something, and it would have to do until the party could make their way to another town. They bid farewell to Kael and the others, thanking them for their hospitality- even if it had been somewhat limited. Then, they set out once more, following the Stier in hopes of finding another town along its banks.

The road ahead was long, though as Minze had said, it wasn't particularly dangerous. Travelers were a more common sight than they had been before, even if they did give Abel and his companions a wide berth, fleeing when they tried to approach and ask for information. Even the few monsters that emerged to menace them could hardly be called threats- killer bees, giant rats, slimes, and other such creatures that, even in numbers, posed little challenge to the party's combined strength. Raine had put it rather succinctly, if in terms he didn't fully grasp: "These guys are barely worth the XP we get for killing them." Abel was inclined to agree, though he didn't say as much out loud- monsters like these would've been more appropriate, if such a term could even be applied to fighting monsters, in the early stages of his quest. Now though, they were just an inconvenience, slowing down their progress and little else. Their only real benefit was giving those in the party with less experience in battle- namely, Violet and Holly- the chance to hone their skills.

But although Abel held his silence, the others were not so restrained with their observations. "The monsters here are a lot weaker than ones we've run into before…" Seth said, she and the others watching as Violet faced off against a lone giant rat.

"Yeah I noticed that too…" Raine said, arms folded over her chest. "I thought a Champion's quest was supposed to be a gradual progression of difficulty, but this one feels like it's all over the place."

"In fairness, Abel has merely been searching for the nearest of the Altars of Alondight," Minze said, watching intently as the giant rat lunged at Violet, jaws open wide, which the alchemist clumsily sidestepped. "Not necessarily the ones that are easiest to reach."

"Here's what I don't understand," Claire began, as Violet attempted to retaliate, aiming and firing two bullets at the rat, but the beast had already begun evading well before the alchemist had taken aim. "Our next destination is Nerivik, right? It's closer to most places in Bastok than Ulara or Zipangu, but we ended up going to those places first. How does that make any sense?"

Raine's brow furrowed. "I've got an idea, but you might not like it," she said. "I think Ilias might be interfering with Blue's quest again. Just like when we were coming back from Ulara." She tapped her jacket pocket, causing something inside to squeak in protest. "What do you think Parrot?"

Niel emerged, rubbing her side. "Watch where you stick those fat fingers of yours…" she grumbled, before answering, "But yes, I'd agree with your assessment, Raynare. Ilias is almost certainly the culprit here."

"We did face a hydra and one of the Overlord's Generals," Seth then said. Meanwhile, Violet and the giant rat circled each other, the former's gun still aimed at the beast. "Maybe Ilias is running out of really dangerous enemies to throw at us."

"It feels more like she's trying to stall for time," the witch responded. "To give the other Champions a bigger lead on Abel." The rat pounced at Violet, catching her in the arm with a bite. Abel tensed, as if about to rush forward to help, but Minze placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. "And it's working," Raine continued. "Having to run halfway across the world every time Blue finds one of Alondight's altars… that's gonna give the other Champions a lot of time to find their own altars." She scowled. "I've always hated games where it's obvious your opponent cares more about making sure you lose than actually winning. That's what this whole situation feels like."

Violet raised an arm, bashing the rat over the head with the butt of her gun, splitting open its skull. The grip its fangs had on her arm finally loosened, and she flung the beast aside in disgust. With the fight over, Minze finally released Abel, allowing him to rush over and assess her wounds. There were some deep gouges in her forearm, but no major problems other than that, and they were healed easily with his magic. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I believe I will be fine," the alchemist replied. "I must admit, though, it seems I have fallen out of practice. I have never had so much difficulty hitting a moving target before…"

The group moved on soon afterward. But before long, they encountered something… odd. It was a swarm of killer bees… or so Abel thought at first. But he quickly noticed a number of differences. They were larger for one, and faster too, their bodies sharp and angular rather than rounded and fuzzy, and almost entirely black save for a few bright yellow spots on their backs. And in the middle of the swarm was what looked like… a stagecoach. The strange bugs swarmed over the coach, tearing at it with their jaws as if trying to get inside. Under the buzzing of their wings, Abel could hear muffled screams, but the swarm, the distance, and the angle all made it impossible to see inside.

"Someone's inside that thing," he said, drawing his sword. "We've gotta help them!"

"Wait a minute Blue, hold on!" Raine shouted, but Abel was already rushing forward. The swarm quickly noticed him, but he was expecting that- holding out his hand, he called, "Angel Fire!" white flames erupting from his palm. The flames caught a few… but many others darted around the flames with ease. It seemed they weren't just faster than killer bees, but smarter too. And not all of them had abandoned their efforts on the stagecoach- Abel could see several still digging away at the vehicle's wooden panels.

"Get down!" Claire yelled.

Heeding her warning, Abel dropped to the ground, just in time to avoid a bolt of electricity that passed overhead, striking one of the bee-things and causing it to explode in a shower of yellow-green bile. Glancing back, he saw the others rushing in- Fiann leading the charge, her axe held high. At this, the swarm began to retreat, flying away from the group, high above the ground where most couldn't reach. But not Violet or Seth- an arrow pierced through one of the bees, and Violet fired a few shots at the swarm, catching one in the wing and sending it spiraling to the ground.

Abel's wings ignited, and he rose slightly, but before he could take off in pursuit of the swarm, he felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder, forcing him back to the ground. He turned, expecting Raine, only to find Claire, her face red and her expression twisted with anger. "What in the fuck were you thinking, degenerate!? Do you not understand you nearly got your fucking self killed just now!?"

"Prez is right," Raine said, after coming to a stop not next to the president. "Those weren't killer bees, Blue. Those were hornets. They're stronger, faster, and a lot more dangerous. If you'd gone too far ahead, they would've stabbed you full of holes before we could've caught up to you."

Before Abel could protest, a voice called from inside the carriage, "H-Hello? Is anyone there? Ludwig?" The voice sounded like it belonged to a woman, but Abel couldn't be entirely sure.

It seemed that the carriage passengers were unharmed. Abel let out a small breath of relief. Still, he didn't approach- though it had been many months ago, he recalled what happened the last time he'd opened a carriage with a terrified occupant within. "Lailah, can you talk to them? Tell them they're safe."

The priestess did so. After a moment, the door to the carriage creaked open, and a woman emerged, her blonde hair disheveled, her eyes wide with terror. Her clothes, though plain, seemed to be made from a rich fabric, suggesting she was someone of means. From behind her, a girl, much younger, though with similar blonde hair and a similar face as the woman, peeked at Abel and the others. "Who… who are you people?"

"We're adventurers, heading north to Argrytis," Lailah replied. "And you?"

The woman began to relax, noticing that the majority of Abel's group were women as well. "Oh, thank the gods! I'm Lady Elaine, and this is my daughter, Cecelia. We were on our way back to Ruysch after some business in Berkel, but then we were set upon by those awful creatures…" Her eyes suddenly widened, as if remembering something. "Wait… but what happened to our driver? There should've been a man with us. His name is Ludwig. He's an older man, but very capable."

Abel and the others searched, though it didn't take long to find Ludwig… or rather, his body. He lay prone in the road, surrounded by a pool of his own blood, his abdomen torn open and innards strewn about. Beside him lay a horse in similar condition, both of them covered with holes as wide as a finger. Minze assessed that the hornets had likely been trying to carry the remains back to their nest when the party had arrived. They returned to the carriage. "We… found your driver…" Raine said bitterly. "…he didn't make it." The woman, Elaine, fell to her knees, her body racked with sobs. Cecelia clung to her mother, tears streaming down her face as well.

Abel wished they could do more. But there was always a chance the hornets could return in greater numbers, or another group of monsters might arrive on the scene to take advantage of the situation. As much as Lady Elaine and Cecelia might've wished to remain and grieve for their driver, it would be too dangerous to stay too long. But though there was nothing they could do for the man, Abel insisted he and the others should at least escort the two safely to their destination. "Where did they say they were from? Ruysch?" he asked. "How far away is that?"

"It's not far at all, really," Minze replied. "If I recall, it's about a day's travel by carriage, perhaps less depending on the conditions of the road."

"But how long will it take dragging those two with us?" Claire demanded. "Even if the roads are clear, I doubt those two could manage a whole day of walking."

Abel's eyes turned to the two, then to their carriage. "…we aren't gonna make them walk. I have an idea. Fiann." His gaze shifted to the bard. "Can you help me pull the carriage?" She nodded. "Good. Let's see if this'll work…"

After Lady Elaine and Cecelia had reboarded the carriage, Abel and Fiann each gripped one of the shafts at the front of the carriage, and gave them a pull. The carriage lurched forward a little, stubbornly holding its place for a few moments, before finally giving way and rolling forward. With a few more tugs, they managed to get the carriage moving down the road. It was slower than a horse would have been, but nonetheless, two were able to get the carriage moving at a decent pace. As Abel and Fiann pulled, the others circled around them, keeping an eye out for any approaching dangers.

"I have to say, degenerate," Claire began, as she walked alongside the front of the carriage, "working as a beast of burden suits you. Perhaps pulling carriages for noblewomen is your true calling in life."

"Oh, be nice to him, Prez," Raine said. "Besides, I think Blue would be much better as one of those… full-body oil massage people. Y'know, the ones that they have at the Temples of Eros. I bet he'd be great at it- his hands are all soft and-"

"Raine, I really don't think this is the time for that kind of talk," Lailah cut in. Though Abel couldn't see the priestess from where he was, he could easily envision her disapproving expression.

Raine scoffed. "Fine, fine… you know I'm right though."

Abel just grunted, ignoring the banter. He was focused on moving the carriage, keeping an eye on the road ahead for any signs of danger. Fortunately, the hornets didn't return, and after some time, the trees parted, and across a small plain stood a walled town. "Look at that," Holly said. "Is that Ruysch?"

"Well even if it's not, it should have some people who can help us," Minze said, taking the lead. "Let's go see if we can find someone to take care of Lady Elaine and Cecelia."

Spurred by civilization being within reach, Abel and Fiann pulled the carriage into the town, where they were greeted by a tall stone wall, with a large wooden gate standing open. Guards clad in surcoats with horizontal gold-and-green bars manned the gate, looking them over with suspicion. As they approached, one of them called out. "Who are you lot?"

The carriage door opened, and Lady Elaine emerged. On seeing her, the guards' demeanor shifted, and each stood rigid, holding their right hand over their chest, palm facing the ground. "Lady Naos, you've returned!" one said. "What… what happened to you?"

"We were attacked on the road," she replied in a trembling voice. "If not for these adventurers, Cecilia and I would've surely been killed." She motioned to Abel's party.

"But… what of Sir Ludwig?" another guard asked. "Shouldn't he be with you?"

"…he is dead…" Lady Elaine said, fighting back tears. "Those beasts, they-"

"His body's still in the forest, a bit away from here," Raine said. "I'm sorry, but there wasn't anything we could do for him."

The guards looked solemn at this news. One nodded. "We'll send a search party to retrieve him as soon as possible, my lady. Now please, allow us to escort you home…"

"Just a moment," Lady Elaine ordered, before turning to Abel and the others. "Please, let me thank you properly for saving my life, and my daughter's." She glanced at each of Abel's companions in turn, as if trying to determine which one was the leader. Eventually, her gaze fell upon Abel. "Are you the leader of this band of adventurers, good sir?" She approached, reaching out with her hand.

He reached out in return to shake her hand. "Yeah, I guess I am. I'm Abel."

Upon hearing his name, Lady Elaine abruptly froze, her eyes widening. "Abel…? Your name is… Abel? Bacchus's… Champion?"

"Uh… that's right…" Abel replied hesitantly, unnerved by the noblewoman's sudden shift in demeanor.

For a moment, she stared, eye wide, utterly petrified. Then, with a piercing scream, she stumbled back, before practically throwing herself on top of Cecelia, as if to shield her from him. "Fiend! You fiend! I won't let you lay a finger on my child!"

Abel stepped back in confusion. "What are you-"

But Lady Elaine wasn't the only one whose demeanor had shifted in that moment. The gate guards quickly surrounded the noblewoman, weapons drawn. They spoke among themselves in low voices:

"That's him then? The Whoremonger? He doesn't look anything like I thought he would…"

"But look at him- he has all the physical traits Brother Gerrol said he would. And all those women with him… he has to be the Whoremonger."

It was just like before, at Berkel. The guards were treating him as though he were some sort of criminal- and even Lady Elaine, who just moments before had looked at him with gratitude, glared at him with a burning, seething hatred, as though his very existence was revolting to her. As though he was not a hero who saved her and her daughter's lives, but a monster who threatened everything she held dear.

"Take Lady Naos to the Church," a guard ordered. "Brother Gerrol can unwind whatever foul magics the Whoremonger has placed upon her."

"What are you talking about!? What's going on?"Abel demanded, taking a step forward, only for the guards to aim their weapons at him.

"Not a single step closer, Whoremonger," one of them warned. "We know full well your crimes. Feign ignorance all you wish, but you will see justice served for your sins."

Before Abel could react, Seth stepped forward, and demanded, "Hold on a second! What are you accusing Abel of!? Those accused of a crime have the right to know what that crime-"

But as the thief approached the guards, one of them thrust the butt of their spear in her direction, forcing her back. "Stay where you are, wench!" he snarled. "And mind your tongue, else I'll cut it out!"

"You'd raise your weapons against a Champion and his allies!?" Lailah demanded.

The guards didn't waver, their weapons still pointed at the group. "As soldiers of Ermis, we are sworn to defend our people from the forces of evil, wherever they may be found," one said firmly. "The Whoremonger and his ilk are no different."

"And in any case, I'm certain the Church would thank us for ridding the world of such a stain on the name of Heroes everywhere!" another called.

White flames erupted from Abel's back. A stain on the name of Heroes? When the gods had named men like Shavran and Cavall as their Champions? When they allowed men like Cardinal Szandor to serve them?

…He'd killed Guillaume Rouque. He'd killed a hydra. He'd killed more monsters than he could count at this stage. And he'd killed more than a few bandits in his travels.

Killing an ordinary human- even a whole town's worth… it would…

…it would be…

… easy.

"Whoa, hey! If you're pissed off that's fine, but leave the rest of us out of it!" Abel glanced back, and in an instant, the flaming wings on his back went out. His clothing may have been enchanted to resist fire, but the others' outfits were not, and they had scrambled to a safe distance, Minze and Claire still patting out embers in their clothes.

In an instant, the fiery wings that had suddenly appeared on his back vanished. What… had he been doing? Had he really been considering butchering all those soldiers- all the people in that town?

In spite of his display, none of the soldiers had faltered. In fact, their stances had only become more rigid, weapons still pointed at him… and the others.

The others… what would they have thought of him? Of what he had just been considering?

The Church already hated him enough merely for existing- the last thing he needed to do was give them grievances to justify their contempt. …No. He wouldn't become the monster Szandor saw him as- that Szandor wanted him to be.

He turned, stepping over the scorched patches of grass left by his wings. "…Let's go."

"Wha- go?" Raine demanded.

"It's obvious we aren't welcome," he replied. He didn't turn to face the others- he didn't want them to see the shame and disgust etched in his face. Instead, he merely strode away from the town, his hands balled into tight fists, not daring to look back.

The others began to follow. He could hear some of them protesting, but their words were little more than a dull roar in his ears. He kept walking, not once stopping, not daring to trust he wouldn't turn back and do something he'd regret. So, he kept walking, Only when the sun began to sink below the horizon, when the walls of Ruysch were well behind him, and the sounds of the town and the guards' voices had long since faded away did Abel finally stop, turning and leaning against a nearby tree, sliding to the ground. He let out a slow breath, then closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm raging within him.

But his efforts were quickly interrupted when Lailah asked him cautiously, "…Abel? What's the matter? You seem-"

"Degenerate, what was that just now?" Claire abruptly cut in. "You're really running with your tail between your legs?" She scoffed. "…Well, suppose your lack of balls makes a nice little space for it."

The comment earned more than a few venomous glares from the others- mainly Seth and Fiann- but before the president could earn more ire, Raine stepped forward. "I think what you meant to say, Prez, is, 'Is everything okay, Abel?'"

Slowly, Abel found his way back to his feet. "I… I don't know…" he admitted. "I… those guards just now, I- …I almost… did something terrible."

Lailah came up to him, placing a hand against his cheek. "What would you have done, exactly?"

Abel closed his eyes. He didn't want to tell her what he'd thought about doing. It was too vile, too disgusting to consider. Even if it was only a fantasy. "…I would've killed them. Those guards. But… not just them. I wanted to kill… everyone in that town."

He opened his eyes, looking up at the others, seeing the shock and disbelief in their faces. Even Lailah had pulled away at hearing his words. "…But, you didn't, did you?" the priestess pressed gently. "You could have, but you didn't."

"Maybe…" Abel said faintly. "But if something had happened, if one of those guards had said or done something… I don't know if I could've stopped myself. And… no one would've been able to stop me." The world around the group seemed to grow quiet. The rustling of leaves, the call of birds, the distant rushing of the river… all stopped, as though waiting for him to say more. But, he wasn't sure what there was to add.

But a scratchy voice chose that moment to speak. "What you just experienced is a common phenomenon for new Champions," Niel said. She had emerged from Raine's pocket, and stood on the witch's shoulder. "Especially during the first stages of their journey, while their power first begins to surpass that of ordinary people's. Many burgeoning Champions begin to feel that they are no longer beholden to the rules that apply to the common people. That they are above the laws of gods and men, and therefore free to act however they wish." The former angel folded her arms over her chest. "The Church even has a name for this phenomenon: 'Superbia Iuvenis Avis'- Fledgling's pride."

"I've never heard of such a thing…" Lailah said, frowning.

"Of course you wouldn't. The Church prefers to keep it hidden," Niel said. "If the public knew about such a thing, they may be less inclined to provide Heroes support."

"Why would the gods let that happen?" Holly asked. "They're the ones who choose Heroes, right? Shouldn't they do something to prevent it?"

"It's a necessary risk," the former angel explained. "And an inevitable outcome from giving mortals power they weren't made to wield. But an ordinary human could never hope to defeat the Overlord without a Champion's divine blessing. Even though the possibility exists that a Champion may abuse their power, in the face of the threat posed by the Overlord and his forces, the need for a Hero's strength takes precedence. Not to mention, institutions like the Church exist to guide and support Heroes, preventing them from succumbing to the temptations of their newfound powers… or, should the need arise, intercede if a Hero becomes a danger to others."

Faintly, Abel heard Claire scoff, and say, "Yeah, they're doing a real great fucking job with that Shavran guy…" But aside from that, all was silent, until…

"Is that why these towns keep turning us away?" Violet then asked. "Because they believe Master Abel is…" She stammered, as if struggling to find the right word. "… gefährlich?" Dangerous.

"Most likely," Minze replied, rubbing her chin. "Although unless we can find a representative of the Church willing to explain the situation, we won't be able to determine the specifics. Although given the current situation, that could prove difficult."

"Maybe one of us should sneak back to Ruysch and investigate," Raine suggested. "If the Church is involved in keeping Blue from getting help, there should be some sort of official proclamation explaining why."

"I'm sure the guards would love that," Seth said dryly.

"I don't think Raine's wrong though. We need to find out what's going on," Abel said. "But we shouldn't go back to Ruysch. When we reach the next town, one of you should go ahead of the rest of us and gather information. Maybe then we can get some answers."

"But if the guards are looking for you, how can we be sure they won't be looking for us as well?" Holly asked.

Abel thought hard for a moment… but any assurances he might have offered felt hollow even in his own mind. "…We'll just have to take that chance," Abel said. "It's not like we have anything to disguise ourselves with." Now the only question was who to send. As someone with experience moving about unseen, Seth was the obvious choice…

…but before Abel could say anything, Claire spoke up. "I suppose I'll have to do it, then."

"What? You? But-" Lailah started.

"Do I need to remind you that I'm the fucking president of an entire chapter of the Mage's Guild?" the president demanded, before scoffing. "That position carries a certain amount of prestige with it- the guards in whatever shithole town we find next wouldn't dare question me so long as I say I'm there on official Guild business." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, the things I do for you people…"

Abel sighed. "Alright then, Claire. But please, be careful, alright?"

Claire huffed. "Don't tell me what to do, degenerate. What could happen, anyway?"

"What could happen is that you never come back, because members of the Church recognize you and have you detained," Seth said, her arms folded over her chest. "Then, they waste all their time trying to break you out of an enchantment they're certain Abel cast on you. One that, I should point out, doesn't actually exist."

"I think I can handle a simple town visit without getting myself captured, Vargo," Claire shot back.

"Alright, that's enough," Raine then said, cutting off any further bickering. "Standing around arguing isn't going to get us anywhere. We have a plan. So let's just get to the next town and give it a shot."

Despite the witch's words however, the group wouldn't actually set out until the next morning, after a night of troubled, uneasy sleep for Abel, his dreams vague, but unmistakably haunted by flashes of violence and death. At the very least, the next settlement was close by, surrounded by fields and orchards. In truth, it was little more than a small hamlet, but they kept to the plan nonetheless, the bulk of the party hanging back while Claire ventured into the settlement. The president hadn't even been gone for an hour when she returned, holding a large rolled-up parchment. "Take a look at this," she said, handing it to Abel.

Abel unrolled the parchment, to be greeted by large words written in thick, bold ink. He read the line written at the top aloud: He read it aloud. "'Beware the Whore-Monger?' What is this?"

"It's an official missive from Ilias's Order," Raine answered. "See that seal?" At the top of the parchment were two wax seals, a symbol pressed into each: one was a cross with six arms, the other a winged sword in front of a set of scales. Abel recognized the first symbol- it had been affixed to the top of the spire of the Pioneer's Cathedral, it adorned the church in Aglis, every banner in Lescatie had borne it… it had even been engraved into Lailah's armor, woven into Prince Roland's tabard. It must have been the emblem of the Church. However, the second symbol was unknown to him. It must have been the symbol for Ilias and her followers.

"Let me see that," Lailah demanded, taking the parchment from Abel. before she began reading the missive aloud. "'Faithful of the Church, beware of Abel, the Champion of Bacchus. He travels the land and uses dark sorceries to charm women and tempt them into wickedness!?'" Her fists tightened in anger, the parchment tearing in two. "How can they spread such blatant lies!?"

For a brief moment, Raine and Abel's eyes met. No words were said, but they both knew what the other was thinking. They couldn't say it outright, not in front of the others. But their suspicions were confirmed: Cardinal Szandor almost surely had a hand in all of this. But that understanding lasted only a moment. Then, they both looked away, and the silence remained unbroken.

"So it isn't enough that assassins from the Overlord are chasing after us," Seth said. "Now the Church is trying to turn their followers against us, too."

"But why would they do something like this?" Holly asked.

"Indeed," Violet added. "I understand that followers of Ilias have no love for Bacchus, but surely combating the threat of the Overlord should supersede their theological differences."

"Unfortunately, it seems the Church disagrees, Master Violet," Minze responded. "And the most convincing kind of lies are ones with some truth to them." The maid's eyes swept over the group. "From an outsider's perspective, it would be easy to conclude that Abel has… less-than-noble intentions towards us."

There was a loud pop, and where a golden fox had once stood, now a woman had taken its place, looking toward the maid with a questioning gaze. "But, what about Flanvel?" Tamayatsu asked. "People didn't seem to pay much attention to Abel there."

However, it wasn't Minze who answered. Instead, Niel had once again emerged from Raine's jacket, and answered the priestess, "The Church may be powerful, but there are areas of the world, like Flanvel, Peryn, Cybele- beyond its control. But in the places where they do reign- Faéton, Mavors, Ermis- their power is absolute. In some cases, Church officials have more authority than kings. "

"Great…" Seth breathed.

"But what are we supposed to do about this?" Lailah demanded. "A Champion can't just… not fight the Overlord. And we can't do that without the Church's support."

But, even as the party began making camp, sending Claire back into town for supplies, no one could give an answer.

---

In the morning, the group set out once more. As they traveled, the air grew heavy and still, and the clouds overhead grew dark, as if reflecting Abel's mood. The night before, he, Raine, Niel, and Lailah had gathered to discuss the recent turn of events. Like him, the others were certain that Cardinal Szandor must be involved. What they were less certain of, however, was how Abel could fight back against the Church's accusations. Raine suggested he and the others disguise themselves, though Niel shot the idea down quickly- setting aside the sheer amount of materials needed to create so many disguises, continuing to travel with a large group of women would defeat the purpose of disguising themselves entirely. Not to mention, Abel's abilities were distinct enough that anyone who knew about them could easily recognize them.

Lailah's suggestion was simple: continue to help those in need, as he had with Lady Elaine and Cecelia. Even if those he helped spurned him after learning his identity, it might at least plant seeds of doubt in their minds that Abel was not the villain Szandor had painted him as. But, Abel still had doubts. Lailah's plan felt too… passive. Too little, in the face of an adversary like the Church. And as Niel pointed out, for every noble deed he might accomplish, Szandor could effortlessly conjure up a dozen slanderous falsehoods to counter it. In the end, no one could come up with a solution to their problem, other than to continue moving forward.

So, that was exactly what they did, pushing past the heavy mood weighing on them. Though rather than continue to follow the river, the group instead turned to the northwest- so long as towns continued to turn them away, there was little hope in finding a barge to take them north. The surrounding plains were desolate, with nothing but low, thick grass stretching to the base of distant hills, interrupted only occasionally by a single shrub or tree. All the while, clouds rolled in the sky above, casting a gray gloom across the landscape.

As they walked, Abel noticed that Fiann was falling behind the others, her gaze turned down toward her hands. Abel couldn't help but find that unusual- ordinarily, the bard was one of the most vigilant members of the party, always keeping an eye out for approaching danger. And yet now, she seemed distracted, her pace slow and sluggish. Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him, and he hung back to speak with her. "Fiann. Is something bothering you?"

She jolted, hiding… whatever she'd been holding in her hands behind her back, looking at him with a surprised expression.

Fiann had been quick, so Abel had managed to catch only a glimpse of what she was holding. Though from the color, it had been something made from wood. "What were you holding just now?"

Fiann looked away, her face flushing a deep crimson. And still, she refused to show him. It was very much unlike her. Usually, Fiann was quite open with him, so for her to suddenly become so closed-off… it made him a bit worried. Abel leaned around, trying to look behind her, only for Fiann to shift her body, keeping him from getting a better look. He tried the other way, but Fiann blocked him again, keeping the object hidden. He circled around her, the bard continuing to turn and block him from seeing whatever she was hiding, until…

"What the fuck are you two doing?" Claire's voice cut in. Abel glanced back- the others had stopped, and were watching the two with mixed expressions.

Reluctantly, Fiann held up her hands. In one hand was a small blade, but in the other… was some sort of carved piece of wood. Its surface was rough, but mostly featureless, save for two thin rectangular holes. Abel stared in confusion, unable to identify the object, until the others gathered around to see for themselves.

"Is… that a mask?" Seth asked, brow furrowed.

A mask… Abel was ashamed he hadn't recognized it as such sooner- the holes were obviously eyeholes, and it was the exact right size for someone to wear over their face. "Did you… make this for me, Fiann?"

She nodded. And with her hands free, she retrieved her journal, writing in it, [I didn't want to show you because it isn't finished yet.]

Claire frowned. "What's the point of making the degenerate a mask? Aside from sparing us from having to look at his idiotic face?"

"I agree…" Lailah said, a finger on her chin, though not before she shot the president a disapproving glance. "A mask might just end up drawing unwanted attention instead of deflecting it, don't you think?"

"Well, I have heard of a type of monster hunter known as a 'slayer,'" Violet said. "They cast aside their previous identities and clad themselves entirely in full sets of armor, never removing them even while at rest. Perhaps if Master Abel were to adopt a similar tactic, we might be able to move about more freely without fear of being recognized."

Lailah's brow furrowed, but then, she gave a small nod. "Well… alright," she said. "Let's see how it looks."

Fiann looked at the mask, her expression shifting, before handing it to Abel. "Thank you, Fiann," he said, before placing the mask over his face. There was no cord or strap to hold it in place, yet as Abel moved his hand away, the mask didn't slip or slide at all. It was as though the wooden mask had been sculpted to fit Abel's face perfectly.

"So… how is it?" Seth asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you feel any different?"

"It's fine," he replied. He wasn't exactly sure why the thief would think a mask would make him different. "How does it look?"

"Ridiculous," Claire instantly replied. "That isn't going to fool anyone."

"Now hold on, Prez," Raine interjected. "I think we can make this work." She looked Abel up and down. "We'll have to do something about the hair, though. And the clothes." Her attention shifted to Violet. "Bottles, you think you could whip us up some hair dye?"

Before Violet could answer though, a strange, low sound rang out over the plains, like that of a horn. The group froze, turning to one another with worried expressions. The sound came again, closer this time, but rather than coming from every direction, it now distinctly came from the west. And in that direction, a cloud of dust rose across the plains, swiftly headed towards them.

Raine looked to the base of the dust cloud, her expression grim. "Not good, guys. We've got riders headed this way." She squinted. "No wait… centaurs."

"This far east?" Violet asked. "I thought centaurs had been driven out of central Bastok."

"How many?" Abel asked bluntly, a blade of light erupted from his palm with but a thought.

"…looks like a half-dozen," Raine replied, squinting at the cloud of dust. "Looks like a raiding party. But-"

Abel heard no more- wings of fire erupted to life on his back, and he flew at the approaching centaurs. He could hear the others shouting, ordering him to come back, pleading for him to not rush into danger, but with the wind rushing in his ears, their words were indistinct, little more than background noise. The frustration, the anger, the rage that had been building within him… he'd managed to restrain himself against the guards in Ruysch.

These beasts would receive no such mercy.

Abel had never heard of a centaur before this day. But as he fell upon them, he understood Raine's confusion on first spotting them- the creatures were somehow both horse and man- where the head of a horse should have been sprouted the upper body of a muscular man, his features rough and brutish, covered entirely with a shaggy layer of coarse brown hair. Their armor consisted of scraps of iron and leather crudely stitched together, their weapons little more than sharpened stones tied to sticks and thick clubs. They showed no fear as Abel descended, the one at the head of their charge pointing up to him and shouting, "Ku nana soga nag!" That one dies first. One was armed with a bow, which he raised and aimed at Abel.

He would never get the chance to fire it. In an instant, Abel shot toward the ground, impacting the ground with enough force to leave a small crater, his blade of light biting through the centaur's flesh as though it were air. As the centaur's hooves hit the ground, its front legs abruptly fell away, the rest of its body following as the creature suddenly found itself unable to support its own weight. With a surprised, pained bellow, the centaur crashed against the ground, its momentum causing its body to slide, then roll forward in a tangled, confused mess of limbs and torso, its blood staining the grass.

The other centaurs quickly wheeled around and moved to surround Abel, shouting in their guttural language, waving their weapons, their front hooves pawing viciously at the ground. One reared, preparing to charge… but Abel was faster. Fire burst from Abel's back, and he swung his blade at the centaur's exposed belly. The creature screamed, tumbling back as its intestines spilled out, thrashing and convulsing on the ground. But before Abel could finish off the beast, he turned, just in time to see another of the centaurs had closed in, club already swinging toward him.

But Abel stepped forward, and caught the centaur's forearm, abruptly halting its swing. Then Abel twisted the beast's arm with all his might. Instantly, there were several crack s, and the centaur's skin ripped open as jagged bones tore through its flesh. The centaur let out a high-pitched scream, its hooves digging into the earth as it tried to pull itself free, but despite its size and strength, Abel held firm, twisting more and more, the centaur's skin and muscles tearing like wet paper. In a desperate bid to free itself, it raised its other hand, swinging it in a swift but clumsy arc. But again, the beast was too slow- Abel pulled back, and with a forceful tug, the last few ligaments holding the centaur's arm together snapped. With a final, agonized scream, the centaur's arm tore from its body, leaving a bloody, tangled stump of muscle and bone. The centaur howled, clutching the stump with its remaining hand as if that would be enough to stop the stream of blood flowing from it. In that moment, it took its eyes off Abel- and he exploited that mistake by throwing the centaur's severed arm at its owner with all the strength he could muster, easily knocking the horse-man off his hooves and onto his back. Before the creature could even cry out in surprise, Abel had leapt atop its chest, calling a blade of light to his hand, and drove it deep into the beast's heart. It let out a brief cry, swinging its remaining arm at him, but Abel dragged the blade up through the centaur's body as he leapt away, carving a deep gouge from its chest up through its neck and into its face. The centaur's head split in two, and for the briefest of moments, one eye fixed on Abel in terror, the other darting around frantically, before both glazed over, and the creature slumped, its remaining arm falling limply to the ground.

Three centaurs remained. They gripped their weapons tightly, no longer taunting or threatening him, as though realizing only now that their supposed prey was far more dangerous than they'd expected. Abel grinned, and beckoned them with a motion. "Sozu songa," he taunted. Fight me.

But the centaurs refused his invitation. Instead, they turned and fled, the ground shaking beneath him with every step.

Abel's smile vanished.

Fire burst from Abel's back, and before he realized what was happening, he'd shot above the plains, moving so quickly the air burned against his exposed skin. The centaurs were quickly opening the distance between them, but within seconds, Abel had caught up, crashing to the ground right in front of the leading centaur. The beast reared in surprise, before turning to flee in another direction, but he was far too slow. Abel slashed at the centaur's flank, hacking off one of its legs with ease. Hobbled, the centaur collapsed, but only for a moment, as it tried to shakily rise on its three remaining legs. Letting out a disgusted scoff, Abel circled around, hacking off one of the centaur's forelegs, causing it to fall face-first into the dirt. It swung blindly, but with a swing of his own blade, Abel severed the beast's arm at the elbow, sending it spiraling through the air, landing in the dirt somewhere behind him with a dull thump. The centaur screamed in agony, struggling to rise, only for Abel to grab it by the hair atop its head and lift its face from the dirt. Blood was smeared across its face, its lips peeled back in a fearful snarl, eyes wide. Abel held his blade above its throat, the heat radiating from its surface making the air above shimmer, and the beast's skin crackle and bubble. "You don't get to run away," Abel growled, before plunging his blade into the centaur's neck. The centaur's scream was choked, cut short as Abel sawed the blade back and forth, until finally the creature's neck was severed, and its body fell to the ground, blood still spilling from the ragged stump.

Two centaurs remained. He shot into the air, arcing high above them, before shooting downward at the closest. He didn't summon any blade- he simply fell on the centaur like a meteor, driving his heels into the center of its back. There was a tremendous snap, and the centaur's front and rear crashed together as if he were a book being suddenly slammed shut. He darted away as the beast crashed into the dirt, its rear half bent and twisted, the creature's spine broken. But it wasn't quite dead yet. It writhed and flailed on the ground, trying desperately to stand. For a moment, he watched it struggle in disgust, before he approached, drew his foot back, and kicked the centaur in the side with all the strength he could muster. There was a loud, sickening crunch as the centaur was lifted into the air, its body folding unnaturally in midair, before crashing down some ten paces away, unmoving.

One more.

"…Abel! Abel!"

He ignored the voice, focusing instead on the one remaining centaur. The momentary distraction had allowed it to flee a good distance. But Abhe el wouldn't let it escape. As before, he raced through the air, before crashing down right in front of his fleeing prey. As before, it reared in surprise, before turning a different direction. But with a burst of fire from his back, he almost instantly moved to block the centaur's path. Again the centaur turned, but again, he was there, barring the way. But this time, the centaur didn't turn to flee. Instead, it raised its stone-bladed axe, eyes wide with fear, lashing out at him with the desperation of a cornered animal. His grin returned as he calmly, and easily, stepped aside, allowing the centaur's strike to miss him by a finger's width. Then, he pulled back his fist, and punched forward with all his strength, delivering a crushing blow to the centaur's chest. There was a crackle of bone as his fist connected, and the centaur was knocked back, tumbling over the ground as helplessly as a cloth doll. He sprinted after it, and as soon as it came to a stop, he leapt on top of the beast, punching it again and again and again and again, his fists shaking with rage and fury as he poured everything last speck of hatred and anger that had built up inside him for the past few days into the beast. With every blow, the centaur's face seemed to change, before being crushed beyond recognition- Issachar, Laura, Kamash Vargo, Cavall, Samuel, Cardinal Szandor, Zechariah, Shavran, Master Rachel-

"Abel stop!"

Something grabbed him by the arm. He instantly yanked himself free and wheeled around, arm snapping back to confront this new threat. For a flash, he saw a red-eyed, blonde woman, her body covered in red tattoos that wound around her body like vines… but just as quickly, she was gone, and he found himself facing Lailah. Her eyes were wide with shock, her face pale. "It… it's over, Abel," she stammered. "They're dead."

He glanced around, realizing that they weren't alone. The others were there too, staring at him in a mix of horror and shock. A few- Claire, Minze, Raine- even had their weapons drawn, gripped tightly in their hands, as if ready for another fight.

The anger ebbed away slowly, replaced by fatigue. Abel shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He looked down at the bodies of the centaurs, at the ruined, broken forms that lay before him. Blood stained the ground, and the air hung heavy with its scent. Abel took a shaky breath, and stepped away from the corpses. "You're… you're all… you're not hurt, are you?"

"We're fine," Holly said. "But… you…"

He was fine. He didn't feel hurt. He didn't remember being hurt. So he must've been fine. But before he could say anything, Raine cut in. "Let's… just get out of here," she said. "All these corpses are sure to attract more monsters."

No one argued. But as they departed, Claire looked in Abel's direction and said, "How much longer are you gonna keep wearing that thing? Even with those bloodstains, it still looks ridiculous."

"What are you-"

Wait. That's right. The mask. He'd completely forgotten that he was still wearing it. It was strange though. He always thought wearing a mask would be uncomfortable, or obscure his vision, if only a little. But right now, it felt like he wasn't even wearing one.

Slowly, Abel reached up, and pulled the mask from his face. But as he did, for the briefest of moments, Abel could have sworn he felt a… small tug against his face. As though the mask didn't want to come off. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the sensation vanished, and the mask came away. He held the mask for a moment, his eyes darting over its rough, featureless surface, searching for… well, he wasn't sure. But whatever he was looking for, he didn't find it, and with a sigh, he tucked the mask away into his jacket.

For some time, the group trudged along in silence. But eventually, Seth asked, "…Well, if you're going to wear a disguise, Abel, then we'll have to decide on a new name for you. We can't exactly go around calling you 'Abel' while we're in public, after all."

"Good point," Raine said. "How about… ah, what's a good name? Um…" She tapped her chin, deep in thought, until her eyes lit up. "How about… 'Magnus?' I think that's a good cover name."

"I like 'Kentarou,'" Tamayatsu chimed in.

"We should probably choose a less… foreign name, Miss Tamayatsu," Violet said. "Although, 'Ken' might work well. A simple, easy-to-remember name would be ideal."

Niel emerged from Raine's pocket with a dour expression. "Why not ask Abel himself what he would want to be called?"

Abel hesitated. Not because he couldn't think of anything, but because a name had jumped to mind almost instantly. "How about… Zechariah?"

There was a moment of silence. Then, Claire wrinkled her nose. "A bit overwrought, don't you think?"

Abel blinked. "Huh?"

"Yeah, I'm with Prez on this one," Raine then said. "You should go with something snappier. Like… Zeke."

"Zeke?" he echoed. He was about to protest, but… when he actually said the name out loud, it didn't sound so bad. In fact, it sounded… rather nice. And… the mask in his jacket, had it… shivered? "Zeke," he said again, more confidently now. This time, the mask definitely seemed to… twitch. As if… it approved. "Yeah… yeah, I like it. From now on…" Before Abel realized what he was doing, he pulled the mask back onto his face. The moment it covered his features, he felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. A serenity that he'd never known before that moment. It was as though, so long as he wore this mask, nothing could harm him. As though all his problems, all his worries, had just…

…vanished.

"…from now on…"

He took a deep breath, feeling his muscles relaxing.

"…call me Zeke."