Zachary Crila was dying.
Zachary Crila had been dying for over two weeks.
His death was not a raging whirlwind or a guttering candlelight. Neither noose nor knife had marred his skin. Food had not been denied, by a will foreign or his own. He was drinking. He was waking.
Day, after day, after day, after day, Zachary Crila had been dying. Slow as fall's frost creeping along the ground, his end had come.
An errant thought rose above the numb blanket muffling his consciousness. He wondered, when he died, who he would meet. He wondered if he would see Aqua, a beauty as light as a bubble twisted in hate or terror at the sight of him, or if he would be forced once more to gaze upon the writhing, split halves of his Goddess.
He shuddered, and the thought receded beneath the blanket once more.
His friends tried to help. He refused their pleading and their pity. They consulted with doctors and Priests and anyone who claimed to be able to help.
He was not blind to their words, to their anger, to their worry. He refused to acknowledge them. He refused to acknowledge anyone. He refused to acknowledge what happened since he began dying, and he refused to acknowledge what was going to happen before he died.
Zachary Crila was dying.
Zachary Crila wanted to die.
His very existence was a mockery.
What Priest could claim to love their Goddess, could profess to want to better their faith, could rail against the injustice of their church, could work without tiring to help their fellow faithful, could do all that and more besides, and then…
He gulped and shivered again as he stared down at his desk.
He was no Priest of the Eris Cult. He was no follower of the Eris Cult.
For his actions, Hell would not be enough. Unending punishment, unending torment would be a catharsis he did not deserve. His fate must be more total, more complete, than even that terrible result.
Zachary Crila was dying. His death would not be of the body, but of the mind and soul. Only when he had obliterated the person garbed in the trappings of holiness, and only when he had scoured this world of his essence and ensured his removal from the possibility of existence, would the world be safer.
Not even the slow, inexorable destruction of all that he was would grant him atonement. For his sin, there was no amnesty.
He sat at his desk, and time passed him by. He did not track it.
There was a knock at his door. He did not move.
"Zachary?" Loud.
It was Luthor. He did not move.
"I told you-" Soft.
"Please, Luthor." Insistent.
There was a voice he did not recognize. He did not move.
The door shut again, and there were steps as they walked closer to him. The wood creaked beneath the woman's feet.
"Zachary?"
He blinked, and he shifted in place at the voice having come so close, but he did not look up.
"Zachary…?"
They were right next to him. He did not look at them. He could not. How could he, in good conscience, look at and speak to another person, another follower of Eris, when he was the one who killed her?
He could not, so he did not look up.
They sighed. Something was familiar about their voice, but he could not place their name.
It did not matter. He would not look up.
"Zachary, c'mon. I need to talk to you. It's important."
She spoke with such familiarity, but he didn't recognize the voice. He would not look upon its owner, he would not, if he did they might-
"…Alright." She sighed again. She leaned towards him.
He was shaking. He would not recognize her voice.
"I'm sorry. I know seeing that was traumatic," she said, and his breath caught and stuttered because he had not spoken and had refused to speak about what happened. He would not speak about what happened because he-
"I really do need to talk to you."
He could not recognize her voice.
Couldn't he?
"Zachary Crila, look at me and hear."
He stopped breathing. Hesitant, shaking, disbelieving, he nevertheless twisted his neck and his body until-
She was different from how he remembered her, but for all of those differences, her voice, her eyes, her essence, even muted and muffled as it was now, had not changed.
His mouth, already having fallen open, failed to breathe a single word.
She smiled at him. Fondness tugged at the corners of her lips, even if melancholy caressed her eyes and brows. She leaned away from him, stepping away.
He twisted in his chair to keep looking at her, waiting, listening-
"Nice to meet you," she said, bowing at the waist. "I look forward to working with you! As my-"
She was dressed in relatively pedestrian clothing that might be expected of a low-level Thief. Her skin was a shade more tan. Her hair was shorn much shorter than it had been, complimenting her Thief-like appearance. A long, thin scar on her face creeping up from herjawline was but one of many shallow scars peppered across her body like fallen leaves. There was a physical strength to her he hadn't seen.
"What?"
She paused and looked back up. "Hmm?"
"Why…" he couldn't complete the sentence. He'd-
The melancholy returned to her expression. "Zach, you-"
"I killed you."
At that, she let out a much heavier, much longer sigh. "Not exactly."
His head pounded, and he felt the world twisting around him, even though it was him who was twisted in the chair at his desk. "What?"
Her expression was conflicted. "Do you mind if I sit?"
His eyes were slow to blink and his mind was slower to comprehend what she'd said. By the time he internalized it, his head had shaken an automatic response, and she sat on the ground.
She spoke, and he listened.
Eris was gone, but she had not died, in the strictest sense. Where once there was one, there were now two Goddesses. She was a deity of Luck, as was her sister. He, Zachary Crila, was her most faithful follower, which came with responsibility.
They had much to discuss.
"Zach."
He'd hated having his name shortened, no matter by who. Zach was the name of the Uncle he was named for, not his own.
He found he didn't really mind if his Goddess was the one shortening his name.
"I'm not mad at you."
He flinched. "How? How could you not-"
"You cannot help but believe what you believe," she said, fondness sparkling in her smile, in her eyes. "You would not be who you are if you had held your tongue, even for her benefit. I would not be if you hadn't stuck to your beliefs."
He gulped. He wasn't sure he agreed with that.
His mind writhed. "Now!" she said, fondness washed away by a wave of pep, "we've got a lot we need to discuss. I wanted to ask-"
"Your grace," he said, interrupting her, "what is your name?" He didn't want to offend her, hadn't wanted to interrupt her, wouldn't let himself forget what he'd done, couldn't let himself hurt her again-
She smirked and declared, voice joyful, "The Goddess of Luck Chris stands before you, Zachary Crila."
-OxOxO-
They were just as paranoid and wary as they had been yesterday. They were still kitted out in their gear, and even if she couldn't sense it, one of them was probably using their fancy spells to make sure they wouldn't end up surprised.
Even despite their distraction, they were doing better than her. "I hate cooking," she groused.
"Miss Lorelei, if you think of it that way, it won't turn out like it is supposed to."
She paused her stirring. "It won't?"
Lorelei looked at where Tanya and Viktoriya were wearing stricken expressions. They were the ones who had advised her to think of it that way, in an attempt to calm her nerves.
She raised an eyebrow. Tanya rolled his eyes, and Viktoriya let out an exasperated sigh.
"Well, the potion would taste better than it usually would if you think of potion-making as cooking, but the problem is that the potion won't actually work if that's how you approach it."
There was a moment of silence and stillness as they absorbed the information.
"It… even if we do everything you're doing?"
"Of course. The mindset is… oh, you two as well?"
Visha and Tanya looked chagrinned. Lorelei couldn't blame them; from her own experience with the lich and their testimony, Wiz was usually the one making perplexing mistakes.
Megumin stood from her own boiling cauldron. "Once again I have proven myself superior to my sworn rival!"
"Megumin," Yunyun said, both whimpering and pleading at once.
They ignored the pair of Crimson Demons. "Can we do anything with it now?"
"No," Wiz said. "Although maybe Vanir would have an idea… for now, I'll go get a bigger cauldron we can put all the bad stock in. Megumin?"
"Hmm?"
"Would you mind taking care of my potion while I'm gone?"
"Of course! As the foremost Crimson Demon, whose abilities eclipse all others, even potions are-"
"Megumin, weren't your grades-"
"Silence!"
They continued bickering, quieter now, and Lorelei looked up from her own, apparently unusable brew, and looked at Viktoriya and Tanya. They seemed annoyed by their own failure at brewing the Level-Reset potion, of course, and their paranoia sting hung heavy over their heads, dark like a cloud.
The background noise of flickering flames and bubbling cauldrons dispelled the lingering frustration with the hours of lost work. Movement drew her attention. Megumin muttered under her breath while hurrying from her own to Wiz's potion. Yunyun looked on, concerned yet cowed, as the other Crimson Demon struggled.
She shook her head and looked back at Tanya and Viktoriya, who were now leaning against each other. Beyond the annoyance and the paranoia, however, she couldn't help the wistful turn of her lips as she stared. A part of her-
"What?" Tanya asked, voice cutting through the background noise and Megumin's increasing struggle.
Lorelei brushed aside the wistful feeling. "Oh," she began, "just you two." His brows furrowed, one of Viktoriya's rose, and Lorelei put on a small smirk. "Remind me, how long did it take you two to realize how you felt about each other again?"
Tanya growled, Viktoriya groaned, and Lorelei cackled.
Wiz banged open the door, and Megumin fought to keep her feet under her as she tripped. Her potion almost went flying, but Yunyun helped her steady it. They breathed a sigh of relief as Wiz apologized profusely.
"Um, Vanir has said he will be able to find some use for it, but that you have to finish it, even if it won't be a potion," she claimed. "Maybe it could be used as a seasoning?"
"Eh," Tanya cautioned, "I'm not sure that would be wise, considering how much the ingredients cost."
"Well, what really matters is if it tastes good," Viktoriya replied.
"Unless it gives you access to new spells or some other kind of power," Megumin added.
"Right," Wiz finished. Lorelei, Viktoriya, and Tanya nodded as she rattled off instructions on how to catch back up from where they'd left off.
The day passed in hushed conversation and potion-making, and every once in a while, Lorelei would steal a glance at the married couple to find them pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with each other even as they worked on separate potions.
If they weren't doing it because they were apparently scared out their mind, Lorelei might have found it adorable.
-OxOxO-
Darkness was torn. With winter firmly upon Axel, there was very little for her to do as an adventurer. There weren't any vegetables that would need to be subdued. The majority of monsters who flourished from spring to autumn were either in hibernation or in hiding from the monsters that flourished during the winter. There would be very few travelers from between towns, any they would either form a convoy to dissuade the powerful winter monsters or they would teleport, depending on how valuable their goods were or how urgent their business elsewhere.
Furthermore, the Dustiness family had work to do. Like most other noble families, the bulk of their bureaucratic work was saved for the winter months when the war was slowed to a snail's pace by the weather. Her father's constitution had improved in the past months, and he wanted to spend some more time with her. She had no doubt he still wanted to find a suitor for her, but the temptation to join him for a quiet evening of filling out paperwork of a rowdy duel or even a game of chess was great.
Juxtaposed with the lack of adventuring to do and the need to work and the possibility to have fun with her father was-
"KAZUMA!" their Archpriestess screeched, "It's your turn to clean the toilets! I KNOW it isn't mine this time! You can't convince me otherwise."
She could remain at the mansion, where she was unlikely to get much work done… where the shenanigans of her teammates might result in her having to intervene, which would, judging by past experience, result in her taking blows from someone.
It wasn't even really a choice.
Aqua continued pounding on Aqua's door. "IT'S YOUR TURN! GET OUT OF THERE YOU NEET-"
"Your words have no effect on me." Hiding behind a corner of the hallway of this wing of the mansion, Darkness could barely make out his muffled reply.
Darkness watched on, her breathing deepening as she continued her banging. "HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BEAT THE DEMON KING IF YOU LAY AROUND EVERY DAY!"
"I'm not stealing the trap's kill," he shouted back. Darkness frowned, but watched on.
"Would you two stop!?" shouted Megumin. "'M tired." She'd been out late, apparently 'concocting vile and forbidden brews to bring even the strongest low.' She wondered if she'd just been having fun with Yunyun or if she'd actually been doing something.
Aqua continued banging on the door. "PRACTICE DEFEATING THE DEMON KING BY CLEANING OUR TOILETS, YOU LAZY NEET!"
He didn't respond. She kept banging. Darkness salivated at the thought of being hit like that.
Aqua was surprisingly strong for an Archpriest.
She continued banging on the door. "Alright," she said, her voice at a less-than-ear splitting volume, "I'll just go spread more rumors about you. NEETzuma. Pervzuma. Hentaizu-"
The door flew open. Just beyond the doorway, where the light of the hallway could not reach, was a pool of arcane, inky blackness. Out of it slithered a bare, lean arm, which grabbed onto Aqua's hand and yanked.
She shrieked and disappeared into the black. The door slammed shut, and after a moment of muffled struggle, the hallway was quiet once more.
Darkness's breathing quickened, and then she lurched around the corner and began striding towards Kazuma's room.
She wondered what he was doing to her. Perhaps he'd used bind on her? And how had he silenced her? A second usage of the skill, or something else?
Visions of the horrible depredations Aqua was suffering filled her head. She was blonde and looked like a different person in her head, but that didn't really matter! All that mattered was that Darkness, as a just and virtuous Crusader of the Eris Cult, had to save the innocent from the monstrous, even if both were actually her friends.
'You should be true to yourself.'
She blinked and whirled around. "What?"
No one answered her. She cast her gaze around, searching for the origin of the voice she'd thought she'd heard. "Is anyone there?"
Her heavy breathing, momentarily stilled by her knee-jerk reaction to danger, picked up again. Was some vile burglar sneaking about? Would she have to fight them, and then they'd see her hair and kidnap her and ransom her and, while waiting for a response, make sure her father knew they were serious by taking a picture of her after they-
She shook her head. Having heard nothing else and sure that Kazuma could use his skills to sense if an enemy was about, she took long strides towards his door. She leaned towards it, listening for the sound of a struggle.
…Nothing. She tested the door and found it was not locked. Grinning, she pushed open the door.
She found nothing. She scowled at the darkened room, where she could make out the lump in the middle of the bed that had to be Kazuma. She sighed and then began looking for Aqua.
The sound of muffled shouting reached her, and she looked about until, finally, she glanced away from the closet and towards the wall opposite the windows.
There, Aqua was suspended above the ground, curled up and frozen to the wall. Only her head was free. Her nostrils flared as Darkness met her eyes, and she began shouting behind the piece of ice keeping her mouth and jaw shut firm. Squinting, she could make out the form of the rope Kazuma would use for Bind wrapping around her and keeping her motionless beneath the ice.
Darkness couldn't hear out what she was saying, nor did she particularly care. She took two strides towards Kazuma's bed. "Kazuma, Kazuma," was all the warning she gave him before she began shaking his bed. "I cannot let Aqua suffer alone! I insist that if she must remain pinned to your wall, that you do the same to me." Her shaking got more vigorous. "No, I do not simply insist, I demand, as a Crusader of-"
"Wuzuh?" he finally responded, head poking out of his blankets. He scowled, eyes bleary, and began to speak. She stopped the shaking-
"Gorilla woman Lalatina," he began. She cringed. "Use your washboard abs for something useful and scrape the ice off of her. I'll clean the toilets next time I use them," he mumbled, turned over, and buried himself in his blankets.
Darkness stared, face glowing in the darkness of the room, shuddering.
She planted a second hand on the bedpost closest to the door and shook the bed with all of her strength. Back and forth and back and forth, she shook it and began muttering, "Call me names, will you? My abs are not made of adamantite, you cur, you buffon, you NEET."
She rattled off more names as he shouted in shock. With every 'you,' she pulled the bed towards her, and with every 'name,' pushed it away. Back and forth and back and forth, she'd shake his damn bed until it came apart or he hit the ground, whichever came first, and-
"ALRIGHT!" he shouted. She tensed, her anger shifting back into anticipation, into-
"G'Night."
He'd swept past her and into one of the other many rooms present in the mansion. Distantly, she heard the click of another room's lock echo in the corridor.
Darkness was left in darkness, holding the bedpost of her friend's bed, staring at empty nothingness.
She sighed, dejected, and turned to leave. She couldn't believe-
"HHHHHMM! HHMMHMMM!"
Darkness blinked and blanched. "Right." She circled around Aqua, gripping her chin as she considered how to get Aqua out of the ice. She didn't have her blade on her, and she didn't see any tools. Perhaps if she turned the light on…
Darkness blinked, and then she moved the hand gripping her jaw away so she could look at it. She glanced, between it and Aqua's bindings twice, and then felt the ghost of a smile tug at her lips.
"Don't worry, Aqua," she said confidently, "I'll have you out of there in no time!"
She punched towards her friend, Aqua shouted behind her muzzle, and her fist impacted the ice.
It did not crack. She drew her hand back and inspected it, and found a few flecks of ice attached to her skin, as well as a faint, dull pain.
Perfect.
She punched again, and Aqua stared at Darkness in growing incredulity. "Hhmmhmmm."
Darkness looked up, glee growing on her face. "Hmm? Aqua? What is it?"
She jerked her head towards the hallway. "Hmm hhmhmm. HHMHMM."
Darkness had some inkling of what Aqua was trying to communicate. Certainly, they could work out some way for Aqua to pass whatever information she possessed to Darkness. The most simple solution was for Darkness to attempt to wrench the ice off of her friend's face, or to melt it somehow… along with the rest of the ice.
"Hhmmhmm?" Aqua hummed, confused by something she saw looking at Darkness.
For her part, Darkness shrugged. "Well, I'm sorry to say I can't understand you, Aqua. Don't worry, though," she said, ignoring Aqua's pleading, "You'll be out of there in no time!"
Darkness began punching the ice, one blow after another. Then, she picked up speed, trying to hit just hard enough that she could feel a sting, but not quite hard enough to crack it. She wouldn't want to injure her friend, after all.
"HHMMHMMM! HHMMHMMM! HHMMHMMM!"
Her hands, in addition to the pain, were also beginning to feel quite cold. "Don't worry, Aqua!" she assured, her breath warm, "I'll have you out of there in no time! Just hand tight!"
Aqua wailed into her mask, but Darkness just kept punching hard and breathing harder. The faster she punched, the faster her friend would be, after all, and even if it hurt more and felt colder, that was a worthy sacrifice in the name of alleviating her friend's discomfort!
-OxOxO-
"Fio, where is he?"
Her other half shrugged. The half she sometimes thought of as being her better half but certainly not at this moment, just shrugged, as if she didn't have a care in the world when Mitsurugi was missing.
"Fio," Clemea said, voice dangerously low, "did you just let him wander off?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but Clemea already knew what kind of answer she'd get. Her other, not-so-better half had glanced to the side, which meant she was definitely going to lie. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fio."
"What!" she shouted as she gestured to the empty bed in the hospital, "I don't know, I just went to the bathroom, and now he's gone!" Clemea looked up, between the bed and the conspicuously open window. She looked out the window.
Her eyebrows rose as she glanced between it and Fio, who was cradling her head in her hands. "He can't have gotten far," she said, oblivious, "but I didn't hear-"
"The window, Fio."
The woman whirled around and finally noticed the open window, through which the stumbling figure of their erstwhile teammate could be seen shambling down the well-lit street.
They both swore.
"Meet you at the bottom."
Fio lunged out the window. Clemea swore.
She'd not fallen in love with her because she was smart, that was for damn sure.
She shook her head as she spun in place and made her way towards the stairs of the hospital. No, that wasn't fair, Fio just got flustered sometimes, neither of them were stupid, and they were both under a lot of stress.
Degurechaff was terrifying, because even if he acted perfectly polite he seemed to have all the power in the world at his fingertips, or as much power as a Governor could reasonably have before he got another, better title. Besides, they were both noble enough to recognize Princess Iris, so even if he wasn't the princess, he had to be closely related if he wasn't some kind of secret brother. Weirder things had happened.
She burst out of the door to catch sight of Fio waving her down at the other end of the street before she jetted off. She swore but pumped her legs all the same. Mitsurugi couldn't move fast, but fast was relative when it came to higher levels, and even if he was only stumbling around, he might just manage to outpace them if they weren't careful.
They were being paid, of course, and Mitsurugi had apologize profusely, of course, because for all of his faults, he was a great person and a good friend, but neither of them were exactly thrilled with having to spend large portions of their day standing guard over their friend and making sure he stayed asleep.
They didn't have many other options, though. Finding someone or an item that could curse him into a semi-permanent sleep on such short notice wasn't viable, even if they could get a curse like that removed quickly thanks to that Axis Archpriest named Aqua. The cloaked Mages who stopped by once every few hours said there would be drawbacks to their own methods, of course, but even if they tried to chain him to a bed, he might still find a way out with his skills.
She turned the corner of the street and sighed in relief. The darkness of the street partially hid them, but she could make out Fio supporting the lolling head of Mitsurugi, who was still trying to stumble towards one of Axel's gates.
Clemea caught up, and they did their best to support his weight. When they usually did this, he'd tired himself out fighting some monster or other on his own and they struggled to support the weight of him and his armor.
Without it, he was surprisingly light.
"C'mon, Kyouya," Clemea said, "back to bed."
"I don't need sleep," he mumbled, haggard. "Aren't I asleep? Everything feels like a dream."
Clemea did her best to keep her eyes forward and not cringe. He was suffering the side effects, then.
"Help me leave. I've got to leave-"
"Are we sure chains wouldn't hold him?" Fio asked. Clemea growled, "Yes. He'd just use Stance Change until he wiggled out, or something else-"
"Well maybe-"
He lunged, sending them sprawling, and then he turned around and began to stumble away, faster this time. They swore at the scrapes, but they hurried after him.
They were significantly less gentle with him when they brought him back again. "Regardless," Clemea said, "We've got to get a better idea from Degurechaff. That, or a full-time watch. Maybe prison would be better?"
"But he hasn't done anything, right?"
Clemea sighed, and she hoped Degurechaff could come up with a better idea. If she was the Princess's sister, she had to have enough money to commission some kind of special restraints or some secret treasure or-
He lunged again, and they swore as he fought against their hold. "Damn you, Kyouya! Why'd you sign that goddamn contract!"
He just moaned like a zombie and struggled harder.
-OxOxO-
As she looked out at the parishioners from a near-invisible peephole, she couldn't help but sigh as she backed away from the stone wall. This wasn't anything like what she'd been expecting!
When Cecily had taken over as the leading Priest of the Axis Cult in Axel, she'd thought this would be easy. Any old Axis Priest could help keep a town's water purified and free of contaminants, and directing their followers to harass the Eris Cult was a matter of finding a reason, including the inarguable 'why not egg their church?' The most trouble she'd anticipated was having to mediate disputes after hearing confessions about the juicy hot goss and carving out enough time from her personal projects to actually run the place.
She had been able to handle the siege. More than just handling it, she'd made a killing selling her tokoroten slime, and being able to interrupt that phony Dark Goddess while she tried to convert those refugees had been a wonderful change of pace from insulting Eris. All in all, the Axis Cult had gained a modest number of converts from them, and she'd been happy. She'd even gotten a lovely care package from headquarters for her fortitude and success!
She leaned towards the peephole in the stone wall of the hallway that led to the pulpit, through which she could see that their church was absolutely packed. Every single pew was full! There were even people who were standing, off to the sides or in the back, for lack of space. Even if it was Sunday, the church was never full, even during the holidays. There just weren't enough Axis Cultists in this small town.
This was a lot more work than she'd wanted!
Yes, she'd said she could handle it when approached about an opportunity for advancement in a place she was familiar with, but even idiots knew not to turn down a free promotion, so why would she?!
She sighed tiredly. In her work for the Cult, her only off-the-books task was to keep an eye on their Goddess, who had adopted the guise of an Archpriest. Personally, she had been hoping to leverage her position to find a nice, wealthy husband who wouldn't mind her using his money to fund her loli harem and keep such a thing's existence out of view of the too-violent but well-meaning loli Tanya von Degurechaff.
The Breaks were the cause. They had been taking advantage of whatever happened to Eris and some other unknown deity – with any Luck, that Wolbach skank – to convert as many disillusioned citizens of Axel as they could. Orders from headquarters had come a few days after each event to justify what had already been happening, of course, as well as advice on how best to do so without scaring them away immediately.
She supposed, looking out at the crowd of people, a good half of them new faces who looked very unsure of their presence there, that it only made sense. They'd worshipped Eris, and she'd died or changed or had kids or something. Honestly, Cecily wasn't that sure what had actually happened, and she didn't really care. Their faith was shaken, and Aqua was still around, unaffected by whatever happened to Eris.
From what she could gather, those most in tune with her Goddess were still reporting she was doling out odd or nonsensical pronouncements or advice, but that wasn't any different than it had been for months. More than how long they'd been happening was the fact that Aqua's normal pronouncements and advice was usually at least a little odd, if not more odd than it was now. Considering she was currently in Axel, she supposed she might have had her perspective altered or something.
The clock, a new fixture obtained with the influx of tithes, struck nine with a loud gong, and the murmuring crowd began to quiet, and Cecily sighed as she straightened her habit. What were they even going to do with all the extra money? They could use more expensive stuff to harass the Eris Cult?
She snapped her fingers. They could set up another church! That way, she'd have less work to do and could go back to using her free time to find a rich hubby and making more tokoroten slime to sell to those who thought of it fondly for helping alleviate the hunger of Wolbach's siege.
Fears assuaged, she stepped out from the hallway and made her way to the pulpit. "Believers in the Goddess Aqua!" she declared, "Rejoice, for today, believers new and old stand among you! Whether you know anything about those standing around you or not, whether they seem to be like you or not, know and take solace in our unique origins and our uniform faith in the Goddess Aqua! The Goddess Aqua knows you and accepts who you are, no matter what! Yes, no matter what! The Goddess Aqua forgives all the guilt you may feel, because she knows it is not you who are at fault, but society, or the environment, or your genes, or something else! Rejoice, for today, believers new will learn the ways of the Goddess Aqua, and believers old will hear her ways once more!"
-OxOxO-
As a rule, Dust tried not to hate.
It was a waste of time, to focus on something you didn't like, when you could focus on something you did. During battle, maybe he could focus on fighting, which was something he didn't really like to do anymore. Outside of that, he tried to spend as much time as possible chasing after things he liked.
Besides, when Dust thought about stuff he hated, his mind would turn to his past.
Dust didn't really want to remember his past. It was something he didn't like.
So, when he said he hated something, his party knew he meant it.
"I hate that blond bitch," he muttered under his breath as he gripped the hilt of his sword. He circled the Rookie Killer, wary of its cunning and, despite all the time since his past, his unfamiliarity with wielding a sword.
He wasn't working with his normal party, so they didn't do more than snort or roll their eyes at him.
He muttered another curse at the Governor of Axel as his teammates made their move. He swung his sword, forcing it back despite the generous distance between them. From the sides, the dwarven Ranger and the elven Warrior made their own moves, the former shooting arrows behind and at the beast while the latter rushed forward while it tried to reposition itself.
It yowled as it was struck and spit as it hit the ground, but it was not, crucially, dead.
"Finally!" The three of them backed away as a Thief came forward and constricted its legs with Bind. Still yowling and spitting, the four of them worked together to drag the monster towards the center of this week's Monday Monster Rush, where the five Monster Baiters were surrounded by their usual protection and a few newcomers.
Dust hated her because he was broke, again, and no one, friend or money-lender or drinking buddy or any other, was willing to lend him anything more, again, and the only way to make any decent money during winter was, apparently, whatever the hell this was!
Usually, if you were rich and wanted to own a monster as a pet or make it fight in an arena or something, you only wanted one, or maybe even a few. He knew, both from having to complete a fair few retrieval quests, along with his past.
Scowl deepening, he pushed his hate aside, even as the bitter cold and muddy, slushy ground sapped his warmth. The Rookie Killer kept yowling, and he kept ignoring it, dragging it with the four adventurers he was unfamiliar with. His usual party had no desire to freeze their asses off in this weather, so he was with a group he didn't know.
He grumbled as the circle of newcomers came into view. Technically, anyone could bring anything over in order to get a reward. However, where the regular rates for such captures were paid six days a week, they got paid an extra 50% on Mondays. As long as they bagged enough strong monsters…
"Paralyze!"
"Thanks, Ms. Yunyun!" shouted the elf.
"Y- You're welcome!" she cried as she hurried off again. Dust rolled his eyes at the girl as they dragged the unmoving monster towards the center.
"Alright," said the guild worker who had accompanied the group at the center, "Names and monster?"
They rattled off the information, and he nodded. "We've recorded your capture, and you'll be-"
"Yeah, yeah," said the dwarf. He turned away immediately, and the other two went with him.
Dust lingered, watching.
The group was small, arranged in a loose semi-circle, and clad in thick coats and furs to help keep out the cold. Humorously, at least two had pens and clipboards. He assumed they were taking notes on the woman at the center of the group. In front of her and the group, stretching for dozens of feet, were various monsters of varying sizes, all of which remained unmoving… for now.
"Tanya…"
"You can reset one last time at the end, Darkness, but if these tests are going to progress, you have to hit the damn monster!"
"But…"
A dire bunny, unmoving, sat in front of the armor-clad Crusader, whose blade was shaking in her hands. He thought it was cute too, but they were a devious monster that primarily preyed on people and adventurers with the instincts to find bunnies cute instead of monsters or animals who would find it appetizing. They could kill the unprepared shockingly fast with the horn on their head.
Tanya cared for none of it and was instead glaring at Darkness, impatient. "We can't keep using Paralysis, Darkness, so kill the damn rabbit."
She tried.
She failed.
Dust snorted, but before either noble could try and rake him over the coals, he left.
If nothing else, schadenfreude would keep him feeling at least a little more toasty than
-OxOxO-
Snow fluttered in the breeze. Arrayed against them, the forces of evil, composed of Demons and monsters and so, so many undead, all of them cruel and bloodthirsty, their shapes as varied as the snowflakes whirling around them. In front, their leader stood, proud, tall, and powerful.
He was taller than two men, with a pale, ashen exterior that blended with the whirling dervish of snow. His muscles bulged, yes, but it was not the sight of a pectoral larger than the human head that intimidated, but the teeth.
They grew from every inch of its body. From the knees, sharp canines jutted upwards. Along the knuckles, flat, wide molars could cave in heads. Incisors bristled like the quills of a hedgehog. Every kind of tooth, from every kind of mouth of every kind of creature, grew from the rippling muscles. No hair graced its head, but tentacles, only half as long as the large, muscular tail, were similarly toothed, undulating in the freezing breeze.
For all its teeth, there were none in its glistening, dull-red mouth.
"Kneel before Groz, Higher Bone Demon, the Great Betoothed One, you defenseless whelps! Accept your deaths knowing you are dying in service of a demon who will one day become a General of the Demon King!"
Its vivid yellow eye blinked, lids closing in from the sides of the hateful organ, taking in the meager forces arrayed against it.
In truth, those arrayed against a Demon even attempting to claim to have the ability to become a General were laughably insufficient, at first glance. Oh, they looked ostentatious to the unaware, but a closer look would reveal the cloth worn was the unblemished lilac-and-gold colors of the Repose, an honor guard of Crusaders and Knights of the Eric Cult. They were never usually deployed in open combat, as they were meant as both a relaxed posting for those entering the twilight years of their service, and as a first posting for those who had yet to come into their own and who could learn from their elders close to retirement.
Despite this, to a man, they stood straight-backed and proud. They were wet and cold to the bone, but they were there regardless. They were not usually deployed in open combat, after all, and though they were on a battlefield, they were not there to fight.
They were there to act as the escort for the man who was.
He was clad in his usual winter-weather fighting vestments, bulky and simple things that, of course, espoused the colors of his unshakeable faith. Neither purple cassock nor pearly shawl nor plum-colored, wide-brimmed hat were enchanted in the least, and he had no items that would aid him in this fight. His clasped hands, cold and ever-praying, held no weapons, and there were none discarded in the snow around him. He could technically call upon a number of items he'd Entrusted to Eris, should he truly require them…
The man had no need for such trinkets when armed with the faith in his Goddess and when faced with so low an enemy.
He took a step forward, further separating him from his honor guard. Silver eyes and silver hair sparkled in the dwindling light of midday as snow fell around them. His hands remained clasped together as he waited.
"No Demons deserve mercy, so I shall offer none. Struggle if you wish, and give up when you will; all you can determine now is if you die tired."
As he spoke, he finally took in the battlefield as opposed to his opponent and his army. He catalogued the dips in the peerless white landscape and compared them to the knowledge he'd been provided before being sent to fight this entity. He watched how the snow fell, doing his best to determine how fast it blew and how heavy it fell here or there. He waited, breath bated, as his enemy-to-be reeled in indignation upon hearing his soft promise.
No subordinate rose up to assassinate the distracted would-be General. A bolt of lightning did not strike his foe down. No sinkhole opened, no errant arrow pierced its eye, no mindless beast gored it, no ailment hobbled it, and no inopportune distraction consumed its attention.
Then, without so-unfortunate an occurrence befalling his enemy, he concluded would have to fight personally, today.
His smile widened just a fraction. Despite the lack of a miraculous victory or opening, his hands remained clasped tight.
The Demon raged. "GRAH! I will split your head in twain and take your skeleton for myself! Speak thine name, insolent mortal, so I may carve it into your skull!"
Despite the cold, he found himself quite dry, standing in the middle of what had all the makings of a blizzard in the none-to-distant future. It was not because his clothes had been made waterproof by magic or a less arcane process, of course, as such work would have consumed resources better allocated elsewhere.
No, despite the weather, he was dry because every single snowflake falling through the air just-so-happened to fail to land upon his clothing, as they had been doing for well over an hour as he traveled from the fortress to this battlefield.
He stepped forward. His hands creaked as he pressed them together tighter. His smile widened. As he moved, the snow still failed to touch him, in part or in whole, no matter how close they managed to drift.
How fortunate.
"My name? So you've failed to recognize me." His words were nothing more than an acknowledgement.
He took another step forward. His boots sloshed through the mud and snow. Not a single speck clung to his holy person, and he walked through the muck as though it were dry, finding just the right place to pace to step to keep his stride even.
How blessed.
"I suppose that explains your eagerness."
He pressed his Luck and took another step forward. The Demon whose name had already been discarded as entirely unnecessary took a wary step back and found it was not nearly as unencumbered by the weather as its opponent. Panic set into the widened, slitted pupil.
How Lucky.
"I am Gabel Montgommery, Cardinal of the Eris Cult."
The eye widened further, and he rushed forward.
As planned, Gabel tripped across the slick ground, sliding with one leg outstretched and the other bent, finally muddying his clothes. The Demon backpedaled, almost tripping over its own tail as the appendage curled in on itself in subconscious fear.
It tried to swing at him, but it was slow to react, slower thanks to the fortunately deep puddle it'd inadvertently stepped in. Gabel transitioned from his slide into a jump, easily avoiding the punch aimed at the ground. The Demon roared, defiant despite its inexorable end.
He decided to roll through the air.
He was Lucky he did; the tendrils on the back of the Demon's head, all of them aimed for different parts of his body, missed. The Demon tried to rise, but his arm had become stuck in the gunk.
Gabel completed his roll by planting his feet into the chest of the Demon and pushing off. Instead of tumbling backwards, the force of his blow dislocated the arm that was stuck in the mud and snow. He pushed off of its chest and did another mid-air roll, avoiding yet more strikes.
A roar, desperate and anguished this time, followed the sound of cracking bone. He surmised, based on the sound, the tendrils happened to smash into each other.
Gabel returned to his standing position and gazed, irreverent of the force before him and energized by the fight, as the Demon bled from its tendrils. It roared, and lashed out with its unencumbered fist. It was larger than his torso, and with the force behind it, he would be wounded and unable to continue the fight, if he wasn't killed outright.
Gabel did not move.
The Demon's precarious footing failed it as it tried to lash out. The fist came to a stop just in front of his short nose, his whole vision engulfed by row after row of teeth. From this distance, he could take in the fact that these teeth grew out of skin, instead of gums.
The Demon collapsed into the muck, the fist retracted, for a moment, and was then back, lashing out at the still-immobile Cardinal. The wind brushed his short silver hair as it missed once more, Gabel sighed in disappointment.
"I do wonder if any of you will ever choose not to die tired."
After a moment spent lingering on the thought, he finally unclasped his hands. One rested flat across his chest, while the other was extended towards the Demon. He gathered his mana.
The thrashing increased. The still-free limbs, the lengthy tail, the hair-tendrils: all of them tried their best to land a blow. None so much as made him blink.
Some missed because of the angle they could move at relative to the massive body of the Demon as he flailed about. Some missed because they were covered in mud and muck. A few blows were stopped by just a hair's breadth thanks to resistance of almost inconsequential air currents or snowflakes.
Like the snow, the Demon's attacks parted before the faith of Gabel Montgommery, unable to touch even his hair.
"Exorcism," he intoned. The Demon let out a wet, muffled scream into the mud, and then, in a flash of light, he was gone.
Gabel smiled down at the impression in the ground and then, smile not fading in the least, looked up at the army.
He blinked. They'd left. More, the blizzard had picked up, hiding much of his surroundings from his sight-
"Gabel Montgommery, look at me and hear."
Androgynous features lit up like a warm hearth after a long pilgrimage. How could he not?
Before him stood Eris. Different, from when he'd last seen her, for she was clad in darker tones and conservative, lengthy designs and sported a pulsing silver scar like a lightning bolt that arced across her face and collarbone, but she was undeniably the Goddess he believed in with all his heart.
His eyes and hair and his Luck and his birthday and every little fact that made him who he was were all indisputable signs that Gabel Montgommery was blessed by Eris. Her blessing had taken him to the highest office in the Cult. Her blessing had given him more magical power than any other Archpriest, to such a degree he had been able to ascend to the job of Cardinal.
Her blessing had given him everything, and he had given her all the faith he had.
He was her Most Faithful, and he was who she appeared before when she required her will to be done.
"We must speak on matters of faith, Cardinal." She sounded less vibrant than he remembered, but that was fine, because even if she looked and spoke not-quite how she once had, whatever form his Goddess took was fine with him.
"Of course, your preeminence," he bowed his head and clasped his hands in prayer once more.
"The harm to my faith by the offal I have cast off is intolerable."
He kept his head bowed and absorbed her words. He was her implement, to be directed as she wished.
No matter what happened, what trials she set before him, his Luck would hold.
"Axel is where the heart of the rot lies."
Though he'd hoped her optimism regarding the discontent would be proven correct, he admitted within his mind that he was glad she was seeing things closer to his perspective. He never would have cast the discontented in such terms, but if his Goddess said it was so, it was.
He waited, growing colder but not, crucially, more wet, because the snow was still dodging around him, and when she did not speak, he replied. "Your Grace, setting such a problem to rest may prove… problematic. Since the death of Alderp, the power of the Dustiness family in the area has only grown, and the Cult has agreements with the man."
With him, and with the King, Gabel had personally overseen their agreements over a decade ago in the wake of the Queen's death.
"That is where her Most Faithful resides, and it is the epicenter of the movement seeking to corrupt the true faith."
His already radiant expression grew yet more bright at her pronouncement. "I live to serve," he replied. "I'll see if I can't work out another agreement with Ignis, then."
She did not reply, and he finally, finally, looked up at her. She rewarded him with a small, knowing smile, a shallow nod, and then disappeared in a gust of snow.
The snow left, as did the blizzard, to reveal the Repose had prepared to defend themselves and the enemy army had truly left.
He sighed happily. "Make haste, gentlemen!" he declared. "With the battle over, other matters must be attended to. Our work is never done, after all."
-OxOxO-
A/N 1: If you'd like to donate to support me monetarily and read chapters a week ahead of time, search for Sugarcane Soldier on the website of the Patrons.
Thank you to WarmasterOku, Theewizzz, Afforess, UNSC_Kawakaze, Vee, malenkaya, and Saito Tachibanafor supporting this story and everything else I write. Make sure to vote if you haven't yet!
