《Commerce Emperor》


 Prologue: The Merchant Hero

    Prologue: The Merchant Hero

    When I was ten, I once asked a spice merchant why people would trade silver for a powder fit only for sweetening food. Hed answered: <em>son, true power lies not in wealth, but in what it can afford you.</em>

    His words had stuck with me for the rest of my life though I only understood their true significance when I became the Merchant.

    I never nned for it. Who could have? The night started normally enough. The House of Gold buzzed with shing lights and the ring of arrow wheels. I sat at the bar while Mersie served red wines to other guests. Hardcore gamblers and hanger-ons flocked to dice game tables; card yers sweated as ever-higher mountains of coins grew between them; courtesans in feathered dresses held wealthy patrons by the arm and distracted them with pleasant conversations and their scandalously exposed cleavages.

    I loved the heady blend of greed, excitement, desperation and tension that permeated this ce.

    The House of Gold, as the oldest and most prestigious gambling house in the Rivend Federation, was open to all. The Merchant who had given the city its name used it to y games with his fellow heroes over two hundred years ago.

    In practice though, the casinos dress code and high-stakes barred the less fortunate from attending. Everyone in the gambling house needed to wear a well-crafted mask, a hat and a doublet; an ensemble that could cost more than amoners yearly sry. I couldnt afford one when I first started to frequent this establishment. I had to borrow my clothes and fox-mask, and I would have to return them by the evening with a bag full of coins.

    I didnt care much. I wasnt a noble. I was a chameleon on the hunt.

    My interest wasnt only in card tables or spinning wheels, no no no. I took note of every yer, every kiss, everyugh. I waited without a word as alcohol and the thrill of victory untied tongues all around me. So many knew how to speak, but so few learned how to listen.

    Of course, I also followed the games now and then. I marveled at watching the Arcane Arrows in action. These machines, the invention of an entric witchcrafter in the Dukes employ, took the shape of wheels spinning on their own thanks to magical infusions. It was a waste of good essence in my humble opinion, but the citys nobles had taken a fancy to this game. They were addicted to it.

    Out of the five Arcane Arrows machines in the House of Gold, one in particr captured my full attention; the one north-west of the bar, right next to the stairs leading to the diator arena in the basement. A yer with a crow mask had bet twenty silver coins, the maximum amount allowed, on four different numbers.

    Five<em></em>I counted each time the man yed with the maximum amount allowed. From his frustrated expression, he wasnt making any gain. Four Three<em></em>The man cursed as he kept betting money. I wondered how many peasants had worked themselves to the bone so their master could justify this waste. Nobles didnt understand the value of money; after all, they never worked to earn their wealth.

    <em>Two,</em> I thought to myself. One more to go. <em>Please walk away now I dont want to get distracted and lose count.</em>

    The yer sat in front of the wheel for an agonizing minute as he considered whether to walk away or keep pushing in an attempt to recoup his losses. In the end, he cursed the Earthcoin for his rotten luck and walked away with an empty purse.

    I felt a little sorry for him. If only he had known that he was two moves away from breaking even and more.

    I rose from my seat and swiftly took the mans ce before anybody else could im the Arcane Arrows wheel for themselves. The croupier, Andreotto, greeted me with a bright smile. Mr. Fox, are you feeling lucky tonight?

    I always feel lucky, I lied. I didnt believe in luck. I believed in preparation, opportunities, kind words, and the asional threat of extreme violence. Have you perchance seen my good friend Mr. Wolf?

    Yes, of course, he replied as I bet ten silver on the twenty and another ten on the thirteen. He is below, ying wife and husband with the Lady Swan.

    Good for him, I said as I discreetly slipped Andreotto a golden coin without anyone noticing.

    I paid half the staff in this establishment for nuggets of information. Croupiers, whores, pages It was astonishing how careless rich people could act in the presence ofmoners paid a meager wage.

    Of course, other nobles paid them for the same service. Id always been careful to outbid them. Knowing who was paying the staff to spy on whom held almost as much value to me as any other information.

    The Arcane Arrows game allowed me to bet on anybination of thirty-six numbers. A ball would be sent into the spinning wheel andnd on one of them; if I bet everything on a single number and guessed the winner, I could multiply my bet by ten. Additionally, four arrows representing the Artifacts pointed at the cardinal direction. If the winning number stopped on one of them, my multiplier would be increased to one hundred. I once calcted that I had more chances of being struck by lightning than hitting this particr scenario under normal circumstances.

    Thankfully, I knew how to hedge my bets.

    My first y was a bust as expected; I considered it the cost of doing business. Better luck next time, the croupier pitied me as the ballnded on number four. I wouldnt give up yet though. What the Earthcoin takes, it gives away tenfold.

    Thats the spirit. I bet twenty silver on the twelve. Here we go.

    Ah, the twelve, Andreotto noted. You sir do have a devils luck with this one.

    He was starting to notice my trick. Damn it. I always worried the staff might have corrected the machines w in my absence.

    I held my breath as the ball spun along the wheel. My heart pounded in my chest when itnded on the twelve, and I exhaled in relief when it finally stopped right in front of the Earthcoins designated arrow. The sound of a bell rang joyfully, and I suppressed a grin as the croupier apuded me.

    Congrattions, Mr. Fox. The croupier filled my purse as other yers apuded my victory. I answered them with a courteous nod and took my purse and smiled when my twenty silver coins grew a hundredfold. Donte back soon, or youll run out of business!

    The night is only getting started, I replied coyly. I would have to lose half of that so the staff wouldnt suspect anything, but I would still walk out with a nice profit.

    I decided that my next step would be the diator ring in the basement. Nobles loved to discuss backroom deals while watching the poor fight each other. But first, I craved tea. Since the Shinkokan Empire put an embargo on Seukaian naval trade, the House of Gold was the only ce where a man such as me could buy their tea.

    I returned to the bar and asked for a cup. Mersie, the barmaid, took my order as a man twice my age sat at my left. I immediately sensed he wanted something from me, so I observed him from the corner of my eye. The difference in social standing between us couldnt be starker. His goldced lion mask and silky clothes contrasted greatly with my elegant but simple fox mask and ck doublet. The gemstone rings on his fingers glittered under the casinos magical lights, and he smelled of perfume.

    Of course, I knew who was hiding under that mask. I knew everyones true name.

    Mersie returned to serve us both: me a tea cup, and him a ss of red wine. Here you go, Mr. Fox, she said with a friendly grin. Mersie was a lovely blonde near my age with sapphire eyes, so watching her smile never failed to lighten my day. I see youve won at the Arcane Arrows again.

    The Earthcoin is just smiling on me tonight. I sipped my tea and frowned in disgust. Whats wrong with it? It looks like poison and it tastes like it.

    Its imperial tea. Mersie chuckled at my distaste. Im sorry, the Duke had our usual stock recalled for his personal consumption.

    This is betrayal, I grumbled. I paid the staff a fortune to keep me informed of any tidbit of information, and they omitted such an important detail? A tea cup cost a silver in this establishment. <em>A silver</em>. This kind of cruelty was why I didnt feel guilty about robbing the House right under their nose. Betrayal, I say.

    Im sorry, Mr. Fox, I didnt have time to inform you, Mersie apologized before being called again for another order. Ill be right back.

    The man on my left spoke to me the moment Mersie left. A charming girl, wouldnt you agree?

    You dont know half of it, I replied evasively. She was so charming that a baron had taken her for a mistress and visited her whenever his wife bored him too much. Im quite fond of her.

    I see, he said, before quickly changing the subject. Ive been observing you.

    I knew this day woulde. I pretended not to notice him and sipped my terrible tea. Id learned most people feared silence. They always felt the need to fill it with bbering and the asionally useful personal details.

    Youre an odd one, the lion-mask man said. You sit at the bar for a while, y the Arcane Arrows, then jump from one game to another. Youre terrible at diator bets, middling at card games, but somehow you usually leave the establishment with more money than you started with.

    I rubbed my fingers together. How much?

    For what?

    My secret, I replied with a chuckle. Thats why youre here, no? If I teach it to you, youll be apetitor. Not to mention the risks of the staff noticing my trick.

    So you do have a trick. The mans eyes smiled more than his mouth did. He was happy to have his suspicions confirmed. I expected him to make me a poor offer and he did. How about ten gold?

    I scoffed. I make eighty gold coins a night on average thanks to my secret technique. You would need at least two-hundred to make it worth my while.

    His smile faltered. One hundred and a half.

    I stared straight into his eyes. Three-hundred.

    My answer took him aback. The basic rules of haggling demanded that you negotiate lower than your initial price. By upping the ante, I had thrown him off his game.

    Thats more than before, the gambler said with a scowl.

    I dont like people trying to shortchange me, I replied coldly. Its your fault for not taking a good deal when you had the opportunity.

    Two-hundred gold, he said with a noticeably harsher tone than earlier. I noticed Mersie staring at us from afar, half-expecting a fight to break out. And I dont turn you in.

    Already going for the jugr, Mr. Lionardo? I smirked fearlessly. He recoiled at the mention of his true name as if I had pped him in the face. Go ahead. Sure Ill pay dearly but if you do that, Ill have to tell the management my secret. Theyll take countermeasures and you wont get to exploit the w Ive found. Youll lose out on a mountain of gold.

    The gambler observed me with a hawk''s concentration. His eyes looked for any bodynguage hint, any telltale suggesting a bluff. I wasnt kidding. My trick had worked longer than I expected, so I yed each night as if it were myst.

    Ive never mentioned my name in this fine establishment, he said, his tone sharp as steel. Good. People respected you more when you unsettled them. How do you know it?

    Youre smart, figure it out, I replied. The real question is: can you afford my price?

    How old are you? he asked me out of the blue. I cant see beyond your mask, yet you sound terribly young.

    Twenty-five, I lied. I was twenty-two.

    Twenty-five and already greedier than a dragon? Youve got a bright future ahead of you. The gambler put a hand in his suits back pocket and tossed me a purse. Fine. Three hundred gold it is.

    I slowly took the purse and counted the coins. Once I confirmed he had indeed paid me due, I jerked a thumb at my secret. You see that Arcane Arrows machine? The one near the stairs?

    His jaw tightened. Yes?

    Its faulty, I exined to him. I think the essence smiths messed up the animation spells. Once you y fifty-seven games with a twenty silver investment, the fifty-eighth attempts alwaysnd on an Earthcoin-twelvebination. Always. The staff doesnt notice because the trick doesnt work when you y with any other investment. So all you have to do is count how many times people y twenty, then swoop in when theyre close to the fifty-eight mark. Youll win two thousand silver for free.

    How did you notice that? the man asked me in disbelief.

    Observation, I replied with a chuckle. Andreottos predecessor had informed me that one of the machines appeared to lose money more often than usual. Having always been interested in witchcraftingeven though Icked the giftit aroused my curiosity. Afterwards, I simply took notes until I figured out the w.

    Impressive. The gambler nodded sharply and then rose from his seat to check if Id told him the truth. Whats your name? Your ent sounds Archfrostian.

    Exchanging names is forbidden among guests.

    You called me by mine and yet refuse to give yours? You are a sensibled. The lion-faced man searched inside his pocket and swiftly tossed me a silver token. Show this to my guards if you ever want to y with the big boys. I will remember you.

    I thanked him and watched him leave for the Arcane Arrows. As I suspected, the lion symbol on the token identified him as a member of the Lionardo family; a group of well-respected bankers who liked to cover their bets with their clients money.

    Mersie, who had been observing our interaction from afar, rejoined me with a grin all over her face. Nice work.

    Thank you, I replied. I took her reaction as a very good sign.

    Did you tell him the truth though? she asked me out of curiosity. Was that truly your secret technique?

    What kind of person takes a clients money and doesnt deliver on his end of the bargain? What was a man without principles? Nothing at all. I was willing to spy and lie and kill, but nobody would ever fault me for poor service. If you dont intend to keep your word, then dont give it.

    Besides, I would benefit more in the long-term. That nobleman was a true gambler; the kind that didnt y out of greed or for the love of the game, but out of vanity. These people spent more time discussing gambling strategies than ying because they were motivated by a deeper need. They wanted to prove that the House didnt always win; that there was a secret technique, some foolproof secret that guaranteed victory in vition of all probabilities. They were, after all, smarter than everyone else. There <em>had </em>to be a pattern, a hidden meaning, that eludedmon mortals.

    Of course, these gamblers were kidding themselves. There was no pattern, only odds. Not that it mattered. Beliefs had the nasty tendency of surviving even in the face of foolproof evidence.

    This delusional confidence was why a man was willing to pay three-hundred gold without considering that if he had noticed my peculiar behavior, then the staff surely did too. It was only a matter of days before the Houses owners recalled the faulty Arcane Arrows machine for inspection. I suspected they would do it sooner than it would take for my client to recoup his investment while I would walk away with arge payout.

    But for one night, he would beat the house at its own game. That experience was his real purchase.

    In any case, I believe Im done for the night, I said as I put my money away. What will you do after your shift?

    Ill go home, Mersie replied.

    Alone?

    My brazen suggestion made herugh. You know I am meeting someone.

    Who is cheating on his wife, I pointed out. Its not like you would be betraying him by broadening your horizon especially since I was there first.

    I do not think he would see it that way if he were to catch us in the act. She gave me the coyest of smiles. Unless you are willing to keep Sforza off my back in his stead?

    Of course. It was always about Sforza. That can be arranged.

    Mersie gave me a nk, imprable look. She had always been so good at keeping her thoughts to herself. Today is the day, is it not? she guessed. Youre skipping town atst.

    Yes. And I would deal with Sforza on my way out. Will youe with me?

    I expected Mersie to answer no, but to my surprise, she seemed to entertain the idea. Where are you going?

    Snowdrift. Mersie nodded at my answer. She had guessed as much. I had never made a mystery of my fathers deathbedst request. Then who knows? Its a big world, and Ive got bigger ns.

    Youre too big for this town for sure. Mersie smiled, though I immediately knew she would deny me. Not now. Theres still something I must do before I can leave this ce.

    I cant afford to dy, I warned her. The risk of ending up bleeding in a gutter if I lingered in the city was simply too great.

    I know, but if youre still in Snowdrift by the time Im finished, Ill pay you a visit. She chuckled. If you dont get yourself neck deep into trouble again, that is.

    How could you aspire to be an entrepreneur and not be a troublemaker? Disrupting expectations was half the jobs description. Youre breaking my heart, Mersie, I said jokingly before tossing her ten gold coins. Now I must piece it back up over a diator match.

    She blinked upon seeing the coin. Whats this?

    My payment for the drink and your long friendship, I replied. I dont think Ill return to this establishment in the near future, so consider it onest tip.

    You gave me ten gold. Mersie waved a coin at me with a grim face. Ten gold. I cant ept it.

    I shrugged. You can and you will.

    I dont want pity money, she protested.

    Its not pity money, its your cut, I countered. Maybe she would be better predisposed if I presented it as a reward for service rendered? I wouldnt have been able to set up my little operation if you hadnt given me inside information. And if you dont want the money, you can always give it away to someone else who needs it more. The Earthcoin knows theres no shortage of them.

    In truth, I liked Mersie. We went all the way back from the orphanage and we had been far more than friends once. I wanted to see her seed and not rely on another rotten noble for materialfort.

    My argument seemed to do the trick. After a short moment of hesitation, Mersie graciously epted the payment and folded it in her pocket. Thank you, Robin.

    Shush, I chided her. No name.

    Sorry, she replied with a bright smile. Thank you, Mr. Fox.

    You couldnt put a price on a smile.

    With my work done for the night, I exchanged my silver coins for golden ones--the rate was twenty-five to one nowadaysand then made a stop by the toilets.

    There I brought out my secret weapon: a small vial of white powder I had purchased from a traveling alchemist. Tasteless and almost invisible, I had tested it on rats to great sess. I coated one of the coins in the poison, put them all in my purse, and threw the vial down the chamber pot. My trap was set.

    I left the House of Gold with full pockets but short of a date. Quite sad, since I was the kind of guy who needed a woman in his life to be fully happy. I had been growing restless since myst girlfriend and I broke off. I had hoped Mersie and I could perhaps get back together.

    Maybe it was for the better though. Mersie always appeared to keep her emotions close to her chest when we dated. I knew better than to pry for personal details as a fellow orphan, but she struck me as a woman struggling with a past trauma to ovee. I hoped she would find a better confidante than me.

    I already felt eyes on me when I stepped into the cobblestone alleyways of the city of Ermeline. The air smelled of piss and booze sote into the night. The ground was still wet from light rain. In spite of the clouds in the sky, dozens of citizens had gathered in front of the opera house to listen to a sermon; the city guards wouldnt let them approach any closer to the House of Gold.

    Doomsday is upon us! A fiery barefoot priest in white robes addressed the crowd. At his side stood an intimidating, armored inquisitor with a halberd tall enough to cut a man in half. The symbol of the Arcane Abbeya chalice, a sword, a wand and a coin assembled in a losange formationglittered on his chest under the light of a dozen torches. The Four Artifacts are furious! The goddess shaped the world, but we have rewarded her good work with scorn and rot! This citys rulers sleep on golden beds while the poor die of hunger! Shame! Shame!

    The crowd echoed his wrath with shouts and screams of anger. I removed my mask and stuck to the shadows, observing the scene from afar. Among the citizens were beggars, cobblers, bakers sons and brick-makers. Their famished faces betrayed their hunger. The price of bread was only increasing since the Duke raised the taxes again, and the citys downtrodden could hardly afford it.

    The Demon Ancestors have risen again to punish our sins! the priest shouted. The Lord of Wrath is bathing in the blood of knights! The Shadow of Envy stalks the night, and the wicked nobles of this city worship the Devil of Greed with their ill-gotten coins! Hear the words of the Arcane Abbey! If the Federations faith falters, then the Beast of Sloth will escape to eat your children, and your childrens children!

    Two hooded men approached me. I didnt fail to notice the daggers at their belts. This way, one of them said, pointing to a stone arch at the mouth of a back alley. Sforza awaits you.

    As always, my boss hade to take his cut in person.

    Thief-Taker General Gio Sforza awaited me in the alley with two more of his men. A bulky man with a balding head and keen gray eyes, his face was covered in reddish spots from an illness he had caught from a whore. He had taken to wearing te armortely, as it helped sell his image of a paragon ofw and order. No other man had imprisoned half as many thieves as him.

    Of course, few knew that Sforza was so good at catching criminals because he was one. Through violence and legal methods, he had steadily achieved dominance over Ermelines underworld by eliminating all rival gangs. Half the citys garrison was on his payroll and the other half closed their eyes so long as he didnt disturbmerce.

    Ah, Robin. Sforza greeted me with a smile that showcased his sharp teeth. He flipped a golden coin with a skull symbol for a face; his lucky charm. Good thing we caught you now. These fanatics are bound to start a riot anytime soon.

    Shouldnt they? I asked mirthfully. Is it true that the Demon Ancestors have risen from their graves?

    Sforza shrugged. Ive heard as much but the world is still standing, isnt it? If the Demon Ancestors have truly escaped, then methink the Abbey exaggerated their diabolical prowesses.

    His men searched my body for coins, since Sforza never fully trusted anyone. Thankfully I managed to keep a few off their greedy hands.

    Three-hundred and fifty gold? he whistled. His eyes burned with the fires of avarice. Very impressive. Thats your best night yet.

    I dont think Ill earn much from now on, I replied. My secret is out.

    I would send you in even at a loss, Sforza replied. The secrets I brought him were far more valuable than gold. Anything to report?

    I can confirm that Baroness Viridis and the Count de Mtesta are indeed having an affair, I said. Andreotto had heard them making love in one of the House of Golds private back rooms more than once. Her youngest son was fathered by him and not her husband.

    Sforzas menughed cruelly at the news, though their boss only smirked. And they call us crooks? Very interesting. Baron Viridis will need a new wife once he gets rid of the old, unfaithful one.

    Hell never make this information public, I pointed out. It would destroy his reputation beyond recovery.

    The baroness wouldnt be the first noblewoman to have an ident, Sforza replied sharply. As for her bastard, well just throw him down a well. Newborns die all the time.

    I did my best to keep a straight face and not show my disgust. Sforza was the worst kind of criminal. He traded blood for money as easily as he breathed. If my life had turned out better, I would have been happy never to cross his path.

    But unfortunately, I had fallen under his sway the moment I arrived in the Rivend Federation. My parents and I had fled the Archfrostian civil war fifteen years ago, only for the Purple gue to drag them both to an early grave. I ended up sent to one of Sforzas orphanages with many other refugees. Ever the entrepreneur, the man had realized lost children made for a cheap supply of pickpockets and prostitutes.

    Mersie and I had managed to avoid both of these fates by impressing Sforza with our charm and intellect. He had paid for our education so we would serve first as clerks, and then as spies in his criminal empire. Mersies new noble patron kept Sforza off her back, but the man would never let me go. I had made a mistake: I was now <em>indispensable</em>.

    It took me many years, but I was finally ready to escape Sforza and rid the city of its corruption while at it.

    Anyway, Im done, I said. Ive saved enough to open a business.

    Im sorry Robin, Sforza replied with a dry tone that implied otherwise. Its not going to happen.

    I knew it. Today was hisst chance to let me go and keep his life. My debts are long-paid, Sforza. Whatever you invested in my education, Ive earned you a thousand times over.

    True, but bing a merchant? He chuckled as he grabbed a coin from my purse. Surely, you can do better.

    Like what? I asked, my heart pounding in anticipation.

    Like a noble, he replied before biting the coin. Sforza was a careful man; he always tasted the money I earned him to check if it was real. Baron Viridis has a daughter. Once his wifes bastard is out of the way, she stands to inherit his estate and title.

    So what are you going to do, marry her yourself? His diseased face made that unlikely.

    No but you will. He chuckled after tasting another coin. I have forged documents. Congrattions, Robin Waybright, you are now my nephew. Once the marriage is sealed, were both joining the noble club.

    I crossed my arms. The baron will never let his daughter marry amoner, even your nephew.

    He will once weve stained his hands with his wifes blood. I watched Sforza bite into each and every coin; including the one I had poisoned. He didnt even notice. He wont survive long after the wedding anyway. All youll have to do is smile and knock-up his daughter. Youre man enough for that, right? Ill take care of the rest.

    If I had any regret about assassinating him, his words only strengthened my resolve. On paper, it was a very good deal. The Viridis werent the richest family in Ermeline, but they were old and their name carried a certain weight. I could safely retire in an estate paid for by peasantbor, raise a family, keep a mistress or two on the side, and y the game of court intrigue.

    But I didnt want any of this. I wanted to travel, to explore the world, to earn my money. Signing on with this deal meant having Sforza watching over my back for the rest of my life. I would trade away my freedom for ephemeralfort.

    This man was a blight on society and needed to go for the good of everyone else. And so he would.

    Dont make that face, Robin, Sforza teased me after he finished checking his money. A third of my men are untrustworthy, another third is ipetent, and the rest are both at once. People like you, who get things done and dont stab their employers back, theyre a rare breed. If I let you go, Ill never find someone half as good. Try to put yourself in my shoes.

    If only he knew Easy for you to say, you arent the one wholl have to fuck a noble for the rest of your life.

    Im sure youll get used to it, he said with augh. He separated thirty gold coins from the rest and returned them to me; my meager cut for the night. Heres enough to buy yourself a courtesan or two. Now change your clothes before someone sees us.

    It would take a few hours for the poison to take effect, and by midnight he would be dead. I hoped he would suffer.

    One of his men tossed me casual clothes, and I exchanged my noble attire for it. I slipped back into the streets as yet anothermoner. The city guard dispersed the crowd before a riot could erupt and I had no trouble returning to my hideout in the citys western districts. The ce had been used as a dumping ground for victims of the gue and left in disrepair afterwards. Time and weather had worn down the houses. Half of them were missing windows, and crumbling roofs weremon. The roads were unsafe here, but the locals lived in such fear of Sforzas retribution that they left me alone.

    I walked into the remains of a church near the citys outer wall. The doors were rotten, the roof had holes, and the tombstones in the courtyard were covered in vines. The walls hardly weathered the march of time, but the symbol of the Four Artifacts, the worlds caretakers in the goddesss absence, remained unblemished on the facade. I offered a short prayer to them, asking the Firewand for bravery, the Earthcoin for sess in my n, the Windsword for freedom, and the Seacup to punish Sforza in his next life.

    Its time, I muttered to myself as I entered the church. The light of the silver moon pierced through the hole in the room and let me see clearly in the dark. The ground creaked under my feet. The air reeked of dust and the smell of rotten benches. A pile of debris covered the old altar at the center of the room, waiting for someone to clean it up.

    Of course, I kept my treasure in a less noticeable location. I walked to the right side of the room, pushed an old bench back, and overturned a stone under it. A travel bag full of gold, fresh clothes, a dagger, a waterskin and dried meat awaited underneath; everything I needed to flee this city.

    The next stone hid a pile of documents: notes I had written, letters I had intercepted, ounts of bribes and thefts. Half a decadesbor of recording every single act of corruption I had witnessed in this goddess-forsaken city. Shinkokan cannons could blow up castle walls; this pile of paper could shake Ermelines very foundations. And it would.

    I had managed to umte a hundred gold in total over thest year. More than enough to start a new life somewhere else and pay a printing press to disseminate my trove of documents through the Rivend Federation.

    High or low, everyone needed to be ountable before thew. Once I published my reports, heads would roll. The public would demand justice. Ermelines corruption would be purged. Not all of itsome people were simply too entrenched by nowbut enough to increase scrutiny. Enough to make a difference.

    And finally, mom and dad slept next to the documents. Their incinerated remains were held in an hermetic y jar Id made myself.

    When they perished from the gue, Father asked me on his deathbed to honor hisst request: <em>scatter our ashes among the snow, so our essence may never leave home again</em>. He had always regretted fleeing Archfrost and yearned to return until the very end.

    With my clearly Archfrostian blue eyes and short red hair, I was quite noticeable among the local poption and wouldnt get past the gates without Sforza learning of it. Thankfully, I had found a secret passage leading outside the walls in the churchs basement. I assumed it had been built centuries ago to help priests and nobles escape the city if it were ever besieged. I would dye my hair with soot, move unseen to the nearest port, publish my documents, escape on a ship back to my homnd of Archfrost, and scatter my parents ashes in our hometown of Snowdrift. How long Id missed it

    Afterpleting my parents final request, Id use my investment to start a business. So many ideas flooded my head. Should I buy a ship and start importing spice from the Fire Inds? Invest in a factory? Travel with a bag full of goods from one end of the world to the other? So many things to do.

    <em>It was fun while itsted,</em> I thought as I grabbed my belongings. <em>Ill miss this city. Half the people in it are rotten to the core, but its the other half that counts.</em>

    Goodbye, Ermeline, I said after filling my travel bag and putting it over my shoulder. To a fruitful separation!

    A sh of light illuminated the church as soon as I finished my sentence.

    Radiance brighter than sunlight pierced through the hole in the roof, as if the very heavens had caught fire. I looked up to see an aurora the color of gold spread above the roof.

    <em>Whats happening?</em> I exited the church in a mix of panic and curiosity. Had the goddess returned from her journey to the stars? Or did the Firewand finally decide to smite this citys wicked nobles with fire and brimstones?<em> If the priests spoke the truth about the Demon Ancestors returning, Ill eat my shoes.</em>

    I walked onto the courtyards grass and gazed upon a pir of light.

    My eyes widened in shock as I looked west. A spear of sunlight surged beyond the horizon like a fountain, its radiance so great and awe-inspiring as to paint the night sky golden.

    At the center of the continent of Pangeal stood Mount Erebia, where the goddess crafted the Artifacts. The Fatebindermanded the Arcane Abbey from its summit. The mountain was barely visible in the Rivend Federation in daylight, but now its summit shone brighter than any lighthouse.

    It could only mean one thing.

    The Fatebinder was calling upon a new generation of heroes.

    The pir of light vanished in a sh, but not before unleashing a shockwave that cleared out all clouds in the sky. I felt the wind pushing against my face and raised my hand to protect my eyes.

    Over a dozen silver orbs of light flew out of Mount Erebia in the shs wake; followed by seven golden shooting stars. They spread in the sky like a rain of fire to all corners of the world, looking for bearers.

    Looking for heroes.

    Of the twenty-two sses gifted by the Four Artifacts to mankind, only the Fatebinder was constantly active. They alone decided when to release the marks back into the wild to raise a new generation of heroes. Something that hadnt happened since the Shinkokan Wars nearly a century prior.

    No way, I whispered in shock as I counted the new stars. It appeared all of the fourteen Vassal sses and the seven Great sses had been unleashed at once. Were the priests telling the truth?

    I choked as a golden star flew over Ermeline faster than aet and continued its journey east towards the distant Stonnds. Three of its silverpanions trailed shortly after, with one seemingly crashing into Ermeline itself. The idea that this town would produce a hero, even a vassal, sounded utterly absurd.

    By the gods, I muttered as another golden star flew from Mount Erebia and towards the Rivend Federation. The orb of light left a zing trail in the sky brighter than aet. I could only marvel at the splendid sight. So so beautiful.

    Instead of continuing its course beyond Ermeline, the star bent down towards it. It decelerated and shrunk in size, from that of a house to a bright speck of light. I chuckled, wondering who would be the lucky winner.

    So long as its not Sforza, I mused. I squinted as the light became brighter and brighter. Uh?

    Only then did I realize that the star wasnt getting brighter.

    It was getting <em>closer</em>.

    I dropped my bag and raised my hands on instinct as the glowing projectile fell on me faster than any arrow. Something hotter than mes seared my right hand. I screamed in pain and surprise as the light scorched my skin.

    When the light died out, smoke rose out of the back of my hand. It itched as if ants danced inside it.

    No I could hardly believe my eyes. No way.

    A mark appeared on the back of my right hand: a golden coin with an inclined V and five triangles assembled in the shape of a star at its center. I immediately recognized the Erebian numeral for fifteen.

    A golden heros mark. One of the seven great sses.

    It it had to be a mistake. One of the churchs stones must have fallen on my head and given me a concussion. It couldnt be a mark. The chosen heroes were meant to be, well heroes! I was as far away from one as humanly possible!

    I heard footsteps behind me.

    My first thought was that Sforza had noticed the poisoning and sent someone after me. I immediately drew a dagger out of my travel bag. Whos there?

    A friend, answered a womans voice.

    I turned in its direction and immediately noticed a lone figure walking into the churchs courtyard, a puff of white smoke dissipating in her wake. A handsome woman a few years older than me walked under the silver moons light. Her green eyes were the first thing I noticed, for they were pale and sharp as steel; a silver mole was strikingly visible under her right one. She dressed in ample, practical blue clothes meant for travel, with long boots, a belt full of pouches, a white cloak falling over her shoulders. Her unkempt raven hair fell on her shoulders like a waterfall. She wielded a wooden staff topped with red crystals glowing brighter than a torch. Fire runestones, or maybe light ones.

    How did she How did she manage to sneak up on me? I scarcely heard her approach!

    Now, thats a stroke of luck, she said. Though she remained at a safe distance from me, she didnt appear intimidated by my dagger. Her gaze settled on my mark. I asked to wander near the closest hero, and I stumbled on the Merchant of all people. The goddess has a strange sense of humor.

    Youre mistaken, Lady, Im no hero. She clearly didnt believe me, and I didnt lower my weapon. And who are you?

    My name is Eris. Eris Brra. She smiled warmly, though I was too tense for it to put me at ease. Im the Wanderer.

    The Wanderer? I remembered the name as a vassal ss beholden to the Priest, who could go anywhere they wanted. <em>And the Wanderer crossed half the world with a single step,</em> or so the scriptures said.

    Prove it, I said.

    She calmly put a finger on her mole. I squinted in confusion until the moons light illuminated it. This was not a mole, but a stylized silver sun. A zero with rays of light bursting from its center. It might have been a Heros mark, though I couldnt tell if it was indeed the Wanderers.

    The Fatebinder released my ss early to better locate the other Heroes, she exined. Since I can travel from one end of the world to the other in the blink of an eye.

    Why? She didnt make any sense. None of this made sense! Why would the Fatebinder summon the heroes?

    Where to begin? She put her hands behind her back, staff included, and her head leaned to the side. The sight reminded me of a curious owl studying an appetizing mouse. Archfrost is in a state of civil war with a rebel province and faces invasions from the north, the Everbright Empire is rotting at the seams, the Fire Inds and Irem are at each others throat, countless people suffer under Shinkokan yoke and then theres the small matter of the Demon Ancestors escaping from their seals.

    I had never paid much attention to my religious studies, but I knew enough to fear the Demon Ancestors. The Abbey said they had ravaged the world seven centuries ago, until the goddess empowered the first heroes to drag them off their bloody thrones. Everytime the priests disagreed with a nations policy or moral practices, they used them of working for the Ancestors.

    That woman, Eris, pointed at my mark. You are the Merchant: one of the Seven Great sses, master of the Alchemist and the Artisan, rival to the Rogue.

    I scoffed. While I did intend to be a merchant, uncapitalized, I still struggled to believe I had be <em>the </em>Merchant. If anything. I would be closer to the Rogue in spirit.

    Is that so? The woman took a few steps towards me. I raised my dagger higher, but it didnt deter her. If I had to guess

    Eris approached close enough that I could shank her if I wanted to. If it frightened her, she showed no sign of it.

    You are a cunning person with an uncanny talent for making money. She leaned at me until our eyes met and I could feel her breath. Youe from a poor background, but youve got big ns and even bigger dreams. You want to open a shop, explore newnds, or start a bold new enterprise that will change the world. You hold personal contracts and the rule-ofw in high esteem, but you don''t mind using underhanded methods to achieve your goals. Oh, and youre greedy. For gold, for love, for honors. And more than anything

    She raised a finger and touched the tip of my dagger. You want to be the master of your fate. No matter the cost.

    I clenched my jaw and said nothing.

    My silence didnt unsettle the woman. It only amused her. <em>How does she know that?</em> Because all the Merchants before you showed the same qualities. The Knight is always a chivalrous bleeding heart. The Rogue is always an outcast and a trickster. And the Merchant is always an intrepid adventurer grasping for more.

    I nced at the coin mark on my right hand. I had to admit that although it all sounded oundish I was starting to wonder. If youre telling the truth, I said, Then I have a power?

    Do you need more proof? Eris raised an eyebrow. I will sell you the color of my eyes for a single hair of yours.

    I blinked at her. Excuse me, the color of your eyes? Do you mean that literally?

    That is what I offer, Eris replied with a rueful chuckle. Is it agreeable to you?

    Uh I suppose, yes. I grabbed a hair off the top of my head and offered it to her. What next?

    Eris eyes glowed the moment she seized her prize. The process was instantaneous. Her green irises lost all coloration, as did the pupils. I found myself staring at two pale, featureless orbs.

    This is the Merchants power, my friend, Eris dered with a bright smile. "You can buy and sell <em>anything</em>."

 Chapter One: The Devils Coin

    Chapter One: The Devil''s Coin

    My torch didnt shine half as bright as Eriss staff.

    Robin Waybright. Thats a nice name. The Wanderers footsteps echoed on the soggy stones. You certainly do not live up to it though. I can hardly see a few meters forward.

    We should reach the exit soon. Truth be told, the darkness didnt bother me half as much as the smell. The escape tunnel below the church briefly intersected with the citys sewers, and the putrid sludge flowing in the canals next to us stank worse than corpses. And youre the one with a staff topped with light runestones. Cant you illuminate the path?

    I could, she conceded. But light runestones donte cheap, my littlemb. As a Merchant, you must understand I cant use them frivolously.

    I suppose so. In this world, all witchcraftersexcept for the Mageneeded to store essence into an object to fuel their spells. Runestones were the best medium for that purpose, and suitably expensive. The fact half a dozen decorated Eriss staff meant she possessed either deep pockets or a powerful organizations backing. Im a bit jealous. Ive always wanted to be a witchcrafter, but I never had the chance to go through the Awakening.

    Lucky you then, she replied. Now that youve earned your mark, you can do magic now.

    I squinted at her in confusion. You suggest I could buy the ability from someone else?

    Why buy what you can do for free? Eris abruptly stopped in the middle of our path and then pointed her staff at my nose. Sharpen your gaze and focus on your surroundings.

    I did as she asked. The tunnel was wide enough for a small wagon to pass through, its stonework chipped and worn by time. Ayer of dust covered the walls, soiled droplets dripped from the ceiling. Id already explored this ce before, so nothing appeared out of the ordinary at first nce.

    Yet as I focused on Eriss staff, I began to notice oddities. The light she cast on the walls reflected strangely. A faint, nearly imperceptible gray, lifeless aura coated the stones. It was as if I could see their smell radiating off their texture. A simr halo emanated from the polluted droplets, albeit sickeningly green and purple.

    Is this essence? I turned my gaze to the staffs runestones and noticed the yellow aura radiating from them. Its strange. The tales dont do it justice.

    Indeed, Eris replied. All things in this world carry a specific essence. Individuals who have undergone the Awakening ritual can see and affect it by bing spellcasters but the first of them took clues from the heroes marks in the first ce.

    My pulse quickened in excitement. I can cast spells?

    With proper training. Eris nced at the dagger sheathed to my belt. Lend it to me, please.

    I agreed to her request after a moments hesitation. I kept two more hidden on myself, so I could always strike if she meant mischief.

    Eris touched my daggers tip with her staff. I watched as one of her runestones aura flowed into the de, reddening the iron until it turned crimson. I touched the edge with my finger and quickly pulled it back. Though the daggers handle hadnt changed, the de was now searingly hot.

    With time, you will learn to store and infuse essence, Eris told me. Heres a free fire dagger to brighten your way, Sir Waybright.

    Oh my, Ive never heard that one before, I replied with a deadpan look. How <em>enlightened </em>of you.

    Thank you, youre quite the <em>luminous </em>fellow yourself. She returned the dagger to me, which I promptly sheathed. The mark strengthens the body and the mind. It makes us faster, stronger, and healthier than we were before. More dashing too.

    Ill take you at your word. I made a mock reverence. Thank you kindly for the gift and lesson, oh eminent teacher.

    Youre wee, my littlemb lost on the way of life. She was a teaser, this one. It will cost you the color of my eyes.

    Oh right, I still hadnt returned it to her yet. Since I had be the Merchant, I guessed I should act the part. I will sell it back to you for a lock of your hair.

    Thats more than I bargained for, she mused. Trying to shake down a fairdy is a sin, Robin. You should be ashamed of yourself.

    Shame? Id never learned the meaning of that word. I will bear that lock as a mark of your favor, Lady Eris. All my good deeds going forward will be in your name.

    Your silver tongue will serve you well, oh Merchant. Eris picked a few strands from her raven hair and offered them to me. I ept your offer, but please, keep my name to yourself. Discreet is my middle name.

    Of course. Her whitened eyes regained their pale green hue the moment I grabbed my due. Interesting.

    Have you gleaned some insight from our unfair exchange?

    I did. I put her hair in my pocket. Maybe I would keep it as a souvenir. Since I could sell you back the same conceptual good for a different, tangible good, then this means that nothing has intrinsic value.

    Which begged the question, who set the price? The seller or the buyer? Did both need to agree? Would it be possible to lie? I needed to run tests to figure out the limits of my power. I figured I should start by asking a specialist.

    What do you know about my Merchant ability? I asked Eris. You said I could buy and sell anything, but there must be limits. I doubt I can buy the moon and sun, no matter the price.

    Im sure youll figure them out on your own time.

    A flowery way to say you know nothing, I teased her. How disappointing for a nun.

    I know the tales and scriptures, thank you very much. I cannot confirm that they are <em>urate </em>though. Eris raised an eyebrow at me. How did you guess I was a nun?

    You bear the colors of the Arcane Abbey, and after studying your staff I remembered seeing Ermelines high priest bear a simr one during the seasonal celebrations. Id heard a whore boast that she had spanked him with it during one of their not-so-secret trysts. Finally, your name sounds like an Erebian one, and only priests call othersmbs.

    You would make for a great inquisitor, Robin.

    Thank you, I replied. The real mystery is how you could be a nun without losing your sense of humor.

    With the right connections, of course. Her staffs light reflected upon a stone archway, revealing the shape of the stairway leading to the surface. It appears our days of slithering in the dark will soon be over.

    The stench of waste started to smell like freedom. Thanks for escorting me so far, Eris. Can I call you Eris?

    Of course, my littlemb. She leaned in closer to me and started whispering into my ear. Now do tell, did you cuckold someone important to exit the city like amon thief? What crimes do you have to confess?

    Too many to count. I took out the trash.

    A foul deed that hardly warrants a secret trip through the sewers. My evasive answer only made her more curious. You can tell me everything, Robin. The goddess will forgive you if you do.

    I would have to start calling her a naughty nun from now on. Its a long story, I said. Too long to tell, unless you want us to travel together. I need to make a stop in Archfrost, but afterward my schedule will lighten up.

    Eris chuckled at thest part. This ursed woman was starting to make me feel ashamed of my own name.

    Sorry Robin, but Ill have to decline. She sounded genuinely contrite for once. Youre the first on a twenty-long list of heroes, and I cant take anyone with me when I wander. Ive tried, and Ive failed. Vassal sses arent as powerful or flexible as the core seven.

    Did my ears deceive me? Her response puzzled me. Youre not taking me to the Abbey?

    Erisughed in my face. Lady Alexios tasked me with identifying the heroes, not kidnapping them back to Erebia. I love my freedom too, Robin, so I understand where youreing from.

    Lady Alexios She probably meant Lysandra Alexios, the current Fatebinder.

    Ill be honest. I gazed at the mark on my hand. I shouldnt have gotten it. Im grossly unqualified at fighting demons, and the prospect doesnt appeal to me.

    Eris put a hand on her waist and gave me the strangest of looks. Do you think being a hero is limited to fighting and killing evildoers, Robin?

    Her question gave me food for thought. I nced at the bag I carried on my back. It held documents rather than swords, but they could help drive evil from the realm nheless. Not all battles were waged with des.

    I daresay that of all the sses, the Merchant has the potential to do the most good. Eris raised a finger and coyly pressed it against my chest. If your heart remains in the right ce.

    I wasnt sure how to answer that, so I simply smiled. Im still not too eager to fight the Demon Ancestors. Ive heard they eat children and punish disobedient boys like me.

    Oh, theyve done far worse than that. The Lord of Wrath alone put a city to the sword in such a gruesome way that it is still haunted seven centuriester. Eris shrugged her shoulders. As I said, my task is to find Heroes, not coerce them at swordpoint. Youlle around to fulfill your destiny eventually.

    How can you be so sure?

    Because the mark wouldnt have chosen you otherwise, silly Robin. A spark of mischief shed in her eyes. Unless you want to sell it to me? Ill give you a kiss on the cheek if you do.

    Only on the cheek? I chuckled. You drive a hard bargain for a nun. I always get my kisses for free, and usually the whole package too.

    Thats not a no, she replied lightly. She was a naughty nun indeed.

    I would be the madman to sell you a ss, especially one of the great seven. If that was even possible. Somehow I doubt the goddess left such an obvious loophole when she forged them. The witchcrafting freebie alone is too much for me to relinquish.

    See? You do have a Merchants soul. Eriss yful smile abruptly faded away. She nced at the stairs leading outside, her gaze hardening. Did you expect to meet with someone upstairs?

    I swiftly drew my dagger and hid another throwing knife up my sleeve. No, I did not.

    Prepare yourself then. Eris warily raised her staff. I sense something vile.

    I smelled the air and immediately noticed a scenting from outside. A sickly sweet, metallic aroma, like rusted iron. Not even the foul stench of the tunnel could overshadow it. I had grown far too familiar with this particr smell in Ermeline, and its presence always screamed danger.

    <em>Blood</em>.

    You should wander away, I warned Eris. I had a pretty good idea of who could be waiting outside this tunnel, and he was unlikely to spare either of us. At least she could save herself. This isnt your fight.

    I appreciate the noble sentiment, but it''s uncalled for. Eris raised her staff, its runestones glittering in the dark. I would be a poor nun if I abandoned one of the goddess chosen heroes in his hour of need.

    I was tempted to insist that she leave, but I wised up. Eris radiated confidence and carried her weapon in a way that subtly showed somebat experience. She was no sheltered nun who had never left a convent. She had seen battle before.

    Very well, I said, though I did walk before her. Id heard mages worked best at range. I dont suppose you would be willing to teach me how to castbat spells in a pinch?

    I could sell you my knowledge, but Ill need it more than you do, Eris replied calmly. You will have to find another wizard to con.

    Wait, did she imply selling knowledge to the Merchant caused the seller to lose it? Very interesting. I would have expected intangible assets could be easily duplicated. I truly needed to run tests.

    Besides, you should have more faith in your ss, Robin, Eris said as we climbed up the stairs. The Knight alone might possess the strength of countless men, but we arent short on might and speed ourselves.

    I hoped our foe hadnt brought countless men with him. I could settle for two, maybe three.

    The stone steps led us to the exit, an archway hidden under a waterfall of vines and thorny vegetation. A clearing sitting in the middle of a ring of pine trees and weather-worn stones weed us. The night wind whistled between the verdant grass and leaves, though it sounded a bit too much like a shriek to me. The spring moon shone at its zenith above us, its greenish moonlight piercing through the canopy. Blooming flowers and sweet grass filled the ce with a fragrance that failed to hide the stench of death.

    He was waiting for us atop a moss-covered rock, surrounded by dead men.

    Oh Robin, finally. Sforza smiled at us, his bloodshot eyes shining red in the moonlight. Youve kept me waiting.

    My pulse quickened. How could he be here? The fact Sforza still lived after I gave him enough poison to kill a horse was one thing, but the fact he had beaten us to the other end of the tunnel in such a short time defied my understanding. Had he be a second Wanderer?

    Moreover, something was utterly wrong with him. The syphilis scars on his face were gone and his eyes had turned red. They watched me with a predatory, unblinking gaze. I had never seen such unsettling focus from Sforza.

    And then, of course, there were the corpses. I counted three, or rather two and a half; one had been severed at the waist and was missing the legs. Though I recognized the three thugs that escorted Sforza earlier in the night, it was only because of their clothes. A savage beast had run bloodshed through them, eating their faces and leaving fist-sized bites in their flesh. Yet nowhere did I spy a trained wolf or lion that could have done the deed.

    I only saw Sforza and the fresh blood staining his armor.

    Whos this? Another girlfriend of yours? Sforza rose up from his stone seat and stretched his legs. Was Mersie too smart to elope with you?

    Is he a friend of yours? Eris asked, her brow furrowing.

    If he were, I would be better off with enemies, I replied as I let my bag fall to the ground. I would need all my speed and agility to survive the inevitable brawl. You knew all along, didnt you?

    Sforza smiled back with scarlet teeth, sending a shiver down my spine. Ive told you before, Robin. Most of my men are disloyal or ipetent and it doesnt hurt to check on those who are neither. Some are only loyal when they think Im not watching over their shoulder, you understand?

    His teeth were sharper than daggers now. My eyes wandered to the dead men on the ground. The wounds were toorge to have been inflicted by a mans jaws, but now that I looked more closely

    Now, I was fine with you skimming a little now and then. Half my job is knowing when to look the other way. I was even willing to forgive you for this escape attempt after teaching you a sharp lesson. But skipping town after trying to poison me?

    He shook his head, his ghastly smirk fading away.

    I cant let that slide, Robin.

    If Sforza thought I would beg for mercy, he had misjudged me.

    Im truly disappointed by the merchandise, I replied. Id hoped to settle this quietly, but I could settle on slicing Sforzas throat myself. The poison should have made you croak by now. That alchemist cheated me.

    Oh no, Robin, you got me good. Sforza stepped onto the grass, his feet leaving footprints into the earth. He had never been a lightweight, but he seemed heavier than before somehow. What was going on here? I copsed on my way to this ce, spitting blood and bile. If not for my lucky charm, I''d be sleeping in the dirt right now.

    His lucky charm? I didnt understand. What did you do with that coin, bribe the Seacup to spare you from death?

    No, of course not. Eriss confused expression morphed into one of utter disdain. That witless fool sold his soul to a demon and became one himself.

    <em>A demon? </em>I wondered, but Sforza began tough before I could ask for details. To my surprise, reddish smoke emerged from his armor. <em>Whats going on here?</em>

    You know me, Robin. Ive never been too faithful. But tonight, a fair goddess smiled upon me. Sforzas voice deepened as he drew his sword from his sheath. She bestowed her favor upon me, all for a trifling price and a favor.

    The crimson miasma emanating from him grew more potent and distinct, until I realized it wasnt smoke at all. A foul shroud essence rose from the depths of Sforzas soul. It infused his flesh the same way Eris empowered my dagger with the power of me, transforming and reshaping him. His limbs stretched and bent in unnatural ways. They grew thicker and more crooked than an old trees trunk. His armors joints broke under the pressure, exposing pallid, pustule-ridden skin at the knees, elbows, and belly.

    To my horror, Sforzas jaw lengthened into an animalistic maw riddled with fangs. His nose turned into a boars snout. He had always been taller than me, but he had gained a good three feet in height and shoulders wider than a bulls. It made his sword lookically short in his hand.

    I could only stare in shock at the monster before me.

    Your flesh smells so sweet, Robin, the transformed Sforza rasped as he raised his sword, his eyes brimming with bloodlust. A forked tongue slithered between the monsters fangs. Nothing like these rancid drunks I employed my pte deserves better meals.

    He lunged at me with a bestial roar. Im going to savor you all night, Robin!

    Sforzas speed took me by surprise. Something so big had no right being as quick as a cat, but he quickly covered the ground between us in a single leap. For most people, it would have been over then and there. They would have frozen in surprise and lost their heads.

    But Id had my fair share of back alley fights.

    Instead of retreating and leaving Eris exposed, I charged back at Sforza. My dagger shed under the moonlight and left a trail of embers in its wake. The monsters eyes darted to it as he raised his sword.

    Exploiting his distraction, I revealed the knife hidden in my other sleeve and threw it at his eye.

    I immediately noticed something unnatural about my body. I had always been dextrous and light on my feet, but now my hands moved like the wind. My throwing knife flew through the air faster than an arrow and nailed Sforzas left eye. The monster let out a roar as thick golden blood surged from his wounded face.

    I had yet to kill someone with throwing knives. I mostly used them for distraction, and in this case it worked perfectly. Sforza moved a free hand to his wounded visage and wildly swung his sword with the other. When I dodged his strike, hed left himself wide open.

    My first instinct was to aim for the jugr, but he was now too tall for me to reach the neck. Instead, I struck at his exposed belly. My daggers de cut through skin thicker than a horses hide and cauterized whaty beneath. The smell of burned flesh filled my nose.

    <em>What is he made of? </em>I grit my teeth as I drew back my dagger for a second strike. <em>I should have reached the bowels!</em>

    Back away, Robin! Eris shouted behind us.

    Sforza swung his arm at me with a roar. I barely had time to lower my back, his hand hitting the nearest tree with enough strength to shatter the bark. I retreated with a backstep, my feet making no noise as they touched the grass.

    A stream of wild fire swallowed Sforza right after. The bright mes illuminated the clearing and drew a shriek of pain from the monster. They burned Sforzas skin and heated his armor, cooking him from within. I nced at the source of this miracle.

    One of the runestones on Eris staff breathed fire into the world. My new senses witnessed the essence within the crystal erupt from it in the form of searing mes. It was as impressive as watching a lightning bolt strike.

    But it wouldntst. The spell quickly drained the runestone of its power and color. She couldnt keep up the spell for long.

    Realizing the danger, Sforza powered through the fire and lunged at Eris next. The mes exposed the bone from his skull, yet they did not slow him down much.

    Dodge! I shouted a warning and ran after the monster, but he reached Eris first. Sforza swung his sword and aimed for her pretty neck.

    Eris did not show fear, nor did she back down. Her body turned to white mist before the de connected. She vanished in a blink, and Sforzas sword hit only air. The nun reappeared a few feet away, unharmed.

    So this was the Wanderers power.

    I cant believe you looked better with syphilis, Sforza! I shouted at the monster, trying to get his attention. The outside finally reflects the inside!

    Sforza turned hisst baleful eye at me. Eris mes had disfigured him with ckened burns, and my throwing knife remained embedded in his skull. He grabbed his sword with his two hands and lifted it to the sky.

    Sforza lunged at me with all his might and speed, his sword falling upon my head like an executioners axe. The blow would have cut a horse in half, but his missing eye caused him to slightly misjudge the distance between us. I moved to his left, watching the de barely miss me. The swordnded a thumb away from me and into the ground.

    The bellys skin was too thick for my dagger. The throat was a safer bet, but Sforza was too tall for my hand to reach it.

    So I jumped.

    The Merchants mark on my hand glowed with a golden hue and newfound strength swelled into my legs. I leaped at Sforzas throat with a cats grace, my daggers edge whistling as it cut through the air.

    Sforza barely had time to blink before my steel kissed his throat.

    Carried by its momentum, my de sliced his thick skin and all the way to the flesh beneath. The full weight of my body tacking against his chest caused Sforza to fall onto his back. I removed my dagger and stabbed him again before we even hit the ground.

    Die, die, die, die! I snarled with burnt golden blood sprayed all over my clothes. Arcs of mes zed to light after my dagger. Die, you vering bastard!

    Id never beheaded a man with a dagger before. I sliced their throats at best. This time, however, my de cut through flesh and bone alike with the sharpness of a butchers knife. I relentlessly stabbed Sforza again and again, with years of silent rage guiding my hand. I continued even after he dropped his sword.

    At longst, Sforzas head rolled off his shoulders.

    I had waited for this moment for so long. Even the foul stench of burning blood couldnt wipe the smirk off my face.

    Sforzas arms lost all strength. The red mist from earlier consumed his flesh, his bones, and even the blood on my clothes. Nothing remained of the Thief-Taker, except for an empty suit of armor, my throwing knife and a familiar golden coin glittered where Sforzas skull used to be.

    You did not falter. Eris walked back to my side. One of her staffs runestones had turned translucent, its essence spent. Have you done this before?

    Ive met monsters, but never one that could talk back. I rose back to my feet and red at Sforzas empty armor. What was that?

    An ogre and a fool. Eris joined her hands in prayer. Surrender yourself not unto the Devil of Greed. For her words are wicked, and her promises false.

    I would have to study the Abbeys scriptures. I had the feeling they might help me a great deal in theing months.

    I searched the grass and grabbed Sforzasst coin. His lucky charm remained ghoulish after its owners death. The skull on its surface seemed to stare at me with malice. Now that I observed it closely, I noticed a faint, nearly invisible wisp of red mist rising from the eyes. The more I looked at it, the more uneasy I felt.

    Sforza said that without his lucky charm, he would have perished from my poison

    You said he had sold his soul to a demon? I flipped the coin in my hand. It felt so light between my fingers, and yet deadly. Did he bargain with this?

    That is a Devils Coin, Eris confirmed with a nod. It is a tool of the Demon Ancestor of Greed to tempt men astray. If the coins holder is consumed by a desire so great that they would do anything to satisfy it, then the Devil of Greed will kindly fulfill their wish for a trifling price.

    Let me guess, their soul? It was always the soul with the Arcane Abbeys tales.

    Clever boy, Eris confirmed. Those who ept this fools bargain join the ranks of demonkind, their hearts forever denied the goddess grace. This man wont return to the Soulforge. He will not reincarnate.

    Then Sforza would trouble me no more, whether in this life or the next. Good. Somehow, though, I had the feeling I couldnt say the same for this coin. I applied my fiery dagger to it, but the gold didnt even heat up. Whatever cursed essence dwelled within this thing protected it from harm.

    How do we destroy it? I asked Eris. I suppose we cant melt away a magical coin?

    We cant destroy these coins. Not until theyve all been found, at least. She snatched the coin from my hand. But Ill take it to the Abbey for safekeeping. Weve got a vault full of them in Erebia.

    I fought off the urge to keep the coin as a trophy. After all the headaches Sforza caused me, I wanted to keep something from him; if only to remember that his kind deserved a knife to the throat. Instead I began to search his broken armor.

    Are you robbing the dead? Eris scolded me. Perhaps you should have been the Rogue indeed.

    Its not like he will have use of it in whatever Hell awaits him, I pointed out. We harvest beasts for their fur and fangs. Why should a humans belongings be any different?

    Fair enough.

    As I suspected, Sforza carried a hefty purse with him. His transformation had damaged the armor beyond repair, but I would keep the sword. I also recovered my throwing knife and hid it back inside my sleeve.

    Why did he eat his own men? I wondered as I scavenged their remains for coins. These guys were rotten enough to work for a demon.

    Eris shrugged. The transformation must have left him hungry.

    A shiver ran down my spine as I registered the implications. What else could take a missing souls ce but darkness? By surrendering his humanity, Sforza had be nothing more than a cunning beast.

    Or perhaps he had always been one and the transformation simply unveiled the evil within.

    Sforza said that a fair goddess revived him. I reminisced over his words, trying to find the meaning in them. That she asked for a favor.

    The Demon Ancestors have not forgotten their defeat at the hands of our predecessors, Eris said. They will hunt us to the ends of the world if needed.

    As I feared, that monster would be the first of many. Then we can expect more ogres toe after us?

    Except you cant teleport in a pinch. Eris chuckled darkly. If youre caught by demons, I suggest you bite your tongue and drown in your blood. Ive heard that an ogre can keep their dinner alive for weeks.

    I scoffed. Has anybody ever told you''re a scary woman?

    Thank you, she replied. People respect you more when they find you unsettling.

    On <em>that</em>, we agree. I frowned at the mark on my hand, which no longer glowed. Did it strengthen me only in deadly situations? Im starting to reconsider selling away my ss now. Is there a way to remove it?

    Easy. Eris raised a thumb to her neck and mimicked a gutting motion. You die. When your soul returns to the Soulforge for its next incarnation, the ss will travel back to the Fatebinder until its next assignment.

    As I suspected. I wasnt serious about removing my ss, but the fact I had no choice in keeping it left a sour taste in my mouth. I would rather have been asked about my opinion before the ss was forced upon me.

    Well, I had no time for anger. What was done was done. When life threw a wrench at you, it was better to make the best of it rather thanin. I had learned that lesson at a cost.

    How did the Demon Ancestors escape their seals? I asked Eris. It has been seven hundred years, or so Im told. So why now?

    Because mankind has forgotten why it should fear them, Eris replied evasively. Another way to say that she didnt know. Anyway, it was fun while itsted. I should go check on the other heroes. I see youre a big boy, youll do well on your own.

    And here I thought we had something going on, I teased her back.

    Oh? She gave me a yful smile. Have you fallen under my charms already?

    A bit, I replied. I wasnt too bothered to see her leave though. My gut told me that we would meet again soon. Heres a tip: I''ve seen another mark falling into the city or near it. A vassal ss, I think.

    That doesnt surprise me. Heroes tend to congregate together. Im sure youll encounter the bearers of your vassal sses soon enough.

    "Well, please tell them hello on my behalf," I said. "I''m done with the ce, but I wonder what kind of hero Ermeline produced."

    "I''ll be sure to give them your regards." Eris waved her staff at me. See you soon, Robin.

    She vanished in a puff of mist, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

    After confirming no hidden assants would avenge Sforza, I slipped the mans purse inside my travel bag. The coins let out a small, pleasing sound as theynded next to my parents funeral urn.

    My new ss changed nothing about my destination. I had a promise to keep.

    As for what came afterward bing the Merchant presented new challenges, true, but also new opportunities. This power could make me rich and powerful. It could also help people. So many options opened up to me.

    Seems like were going to share a bit of road, you and I, I told the mark on my hand. How about we go on to see the world? Ive heard its for sale.

    I could have sworn the mark glowed in response.

 Chapter Two: Vassal Heroes

    Chapter Two: Vassal Heroes

    A beautiful melody woke me up at dawn.

    A gentle lutes strumming reverberated across the bedroom. My eyes opened to the tune of the slow symphony. The sound came from above, past the timber ceiling and faded paint. Had a bard rented a room above mine?

    <em>What a sad song, </em>I thought as I emerged from my slumber with a womans arms around my neck. Each note carried weight. The melody invited me to a journey of tears and sorrow. Not the best way to start ones morning.<em> Its beautiful though.</em>

    The suns rays filtered through the window and cast a dim light onto the whitewashed walls. My bedroom was small, though cozy; a modest sanctuary for tired sailors or weary passengers waiting for a ship. The <em>Tawny Mermaid</em> wasnt the most luxurious establishment by the docks, but it made up for itsck of amodations with additional services.

    Two dock whores snored lightly in the bed beside me. I rarely paid for sex, but it took me two days to reach Tradewind from Ermeline even with a horse prepared. I was in the mood to celebrate Sforzas death, and I managed to negotiate a group reduction with the inn. Two for the price of one. It had been worth the coin.

    <em>Perhaps I should buy this ce. </em>I silently emerged from the bed, took care not to wake up the girls, and then moved to open the window. The fresh breeze blew on my face and the lute melody above grew stronger. <em>It could make some good money with some repairs and better management.</em>

    My room offered an impable view of the riverbank outside. Located at the confluence of the Rivend Federations major waterways, Tradewind was the countrys unofficial capital andmerce center; and it showed. The port was busier than a beehive, with ships from all corners of Pangeal and beyond jockeying for space along the docks. Galleons carrying crates of manufactured goods back to the Everbright Empire floated next to Iremian galleys flooding Fire Ind spices into the citys markets. Merchants haggled over vibrant dresses woven in other cities of the Federation or precious gems imported from the Stonnds, sailors shouted at one another to unfurl sails quicker, and hurried travelers raced back to the quickest ferry. The wind carried a cacophony of a dozen tongues spoken with ten-thousand voices, alongside the smell of exotic nts, foreign vors, and the scent ofmerce. You couldnt make a step in Tradewind without stumbling on an opportunity.

    I would fit right at home in this city, but duty called. Perhaps I woulde back afterpleting my fathersst request. Tradewind produced more magnates than any other city in the north. Perhaps I could join the club.

    A copper for the morning news! A twelve, maybe thirteen, year old boy called out from the cobblestone street below my window. He carried a pack of paper sheets under his arm. Archfrosts prince reveals himself the new Knight! Dont miss the news from the Dailywind!

    My lips curved into a smile. Id dropped off my incriminating documents at the printing press yesterday, so I expected my revtions to be on the front page. Perhaps the truth would make enough noise to stand next to spections about the heroes.

    Ermeline is painted red! the boy shouted to whoever would listen. The duke''s court massacred to a man!

    The lute melody above quickened as if on cue, and my smile faded away. Boy! I shouted at him from my window on the second floor, quickly grabbing my purse. Ill take one!

    Sure, Mister! He folded a newspaper into a scroll and tossed it to me; I flipped a coin below, which he caught with a slick hand. Thank thee kindly!

    I quickly unfolded the newspaper and read the words printed on its surface. The lions share of the first page was dedicated to the revtion that Rnd Chernov, Archfrosts underage crown-prince, had been identified as the new Knight; one of the seven great sses. Although it was a momentous event for my homnd, the days second topic caught my full attention: the ughter of Ermelines nobility.

    Last Mageday morning, the city of Ermeline woke up to a gruesome sight, I read, the ink fresh on my fingers, the blood of its rulers. Duke Francesco Ermeline was found dead in his estates private gambling den, alongside Baron Viridis, Count Lefell and the entire city council. Guards, who were tasked to stand outside while their employers conducted their business, opened the doors on the morrow when they became suspicious of the silence

    I could picture the scene. The Duke liked to invite nobles to his estate to participate in secret gatherings, ranging from drunken gambling parties to orgies mixed with political debates. The citys rulers could only do their job properly when inebriated, though they liked to discuss backroom deals too. The deeds happening behind closed doors would give priests a heart attackI knew, since Sforza bragged about attending a fewso the Duke forbade outsiders from entering his private quarters unless invited. A hired killer had exploited this tendency to murder him and his entire inner circle. The watch suspected a link with Thief-Taker General Sforzas sudden disappearance, though that one was on me.

    I wouldnt shed a tear over those corrupt parasitesDuke Ermeline and Sforza were cut from the same clothbut the massacres sheer suddenness gave me pause. The guards didnt hear a sound, and none of the victims showed any wounds. As far as autopsies were concerned, they simply dropped dead.

    Either they suffered from mass poisoning or the Assassin had paid them a visit.

    I now knew which vassal ssnded in Ermeline. Whoever gained the Assassins power immediately put it to good use. My anonymous tips about the citys corruption, briefly mentioned in the article, were only the cherry on top of the bloody cake. I couldnt even be mad at it; the world would be a better ce without Ermelines former leadership.

    Still, this event bothered me greatly. What could motivate a hero to murder so many? Come to think of it, how did Sforza end up with a cursed coin in the first ce? Could someone from the citys nobility have given it to him? Maybe I was being paranoid, but my gut told me something foul brewed in the background.

    <em>Poor Mersie</em>, I thought. Her lover was among the victims. At least Id spared her the hassle of dealing with Sforza. <em>What did she say again? That she had something to do in the city before joining me in Snowdrift?</em>

    I wondered if I would end up seeing Mersie again soon. As for the Assassins identity, Eris was bound to pay me a visit sooner orter afterpleting her hero tour. I could simply ask her then.

    By the time I finished dressing up, the musician above had stopped ying the lute and my bedmates had woken up. Leaving so soon, stranger? one of thediesEvelyne, I think her name was?asked after stretching her arms. You could stay a tiny bit longer, you know

    Sorry gals, the boat wont wait for me. I tossed them each an extra silver on my way out. But it was a pleasure.

    Come back whenever, the girl replied upon catching my coin. I might actually take her up on it one day.

    I left the <em>Tawny Mermaid</em> and walked towards the ferry. I walked under the shadow of towering warehouses, each bearing a trading guilds emblem, and through crowds gathering around food stalls. I kept an eye on my purse all the way to my dock. Pickpockets abounded in these ces. I took a moment to listen to the word on the street, to observe the moored ships, and to catch the citys ambiance. The absence of Seukaian ships attested to the continued Shinkokan embargo on their goods, and Iremian merchantsined of pirates growing bolder in their depredations.

    The so-called pirate queen, Neferoa, shes a hero, I heard a fisherman tell a sailor shopping for goods. She bewitches women and turns men into her harem ves.

    She wouldnt be a hero if she did that, his customer replied with a chuckle. Only the Knight has been found so far. I hope we get the Mage though. Nobody would mess with the Fed with that one on our side.

    I tugged at the glove hiding my mark. As expected, spections on heroes were plentiful. Everyone wondered which country would get whom. It would change many things. Many were already saying that the Archfrostian crown prince being chosen as the Knight meant the four artifacts had picked his side in the civil war. I better keep my identity secret for now, lest I be a pawn in someones game.

    nks creaked under my feet as I approached the Archfrostian ferry dock. A bulky galley awaited there. Its carved wood bow gleamed gray in the sunlight. Archfrostian witchcrafters infused their vessels with metal essence, allowing harvested bark to break through ice while remaining light enough for the wind to push sails onward. Some managed to travel all the way to the Winter Sea, the worlds coldest ocean.

    We need to get onboard! I heard a woman shout as I approached the wooden ramp. Please, I <em>need </em>that job.

    A silver per head, a man answered. A sailor blocked ess to the ship to two unlucky passengers, a redheaded woman and what appeared to be her young son. The end.

    I wouldnt have paid the scene any mind if I didnt suddenly feel a strange shiver down my spine when I briefly gazed at the woman. I frowned at her in confusion. She was tall and sturdy, with a weathered face and thick arms that betrayed experience with hard manualbor. Her unruly, fiery hair had been hastily cut right above her broad shoulders and her fierce emerald eyes brimmed with frustration. I would put her somewhere in her thirties, ten years older than me.

    The equipment she carried on her told me much about her. A leather apron covered her soot-tainted linen blouse. A heart-shaped wood pendant, crafted with care, hung from her neckline. She packed a travel bag full of tools including chisels, portable vises, and tongs; alongside a sledgehammer strong enough to shatter bone and steel alike. A cksmith.

    She felt familiar, though I couldn''t put a finger on why. I never crossed paths with her in the past, or at least I didnt remember it. I didnt feel anything when I nced at the scrawny child following her like a shadow; the familial resemnce was obvious even to onlookers. The boy couldnt be older than eight, with unkempt red hair, freckles, fearful blue eyes, and dirty clothes with holes in them. His shoes looked too big for his feet, and the bag holding the whetstone he carried was too heavy for his arms.

    I immediately recognized their type. Poor people looking for work. I wondered why a cksmith would seek to move from the Federation to Archfrost though. I would have assumed that she could find clients in Tradewind easily enough. I wondered if she was returning to her homnd like me, but her ent sounded clearly Rivendian.

    I dont have the coin on me, she pleaded with the sailor. But I swear, we can pay your captain back on the return tripter

    Later means never,ss. The sailor, a rugged worker with wrinkles and streaks of gray hair, remained unmoved. He sounded Archfrostian. No money, no trip.

    The woman clenched her teeth in frustration, her hands tightening into fists. I suddenly realized she wore gloves too. It could mean nothing or everything.

    Onest look at her poor son struggling not to cry was enough to convince me to help. It just tugged at my heartstrings. Besides, they were fellow gingers. If we couldnt count on each other in this terrible world of ours

    Excuse me? I said, causing the three of them to nce at me. I flipped the sailor a small purse full of silver coins, and he almost tripped off the ramp trying to catch it. Theyre with me.

    W-who are you? the sailor stammered, taken aback by my intervention.

    Im Robin Waybright. I booked a private cabin for two. Back when I thought Mersie would follow me to Archfrost. And this is my wife youre disrespecting.

    I lied smoothly, and the woman was smart enough to keep her mouth shut. She squinted at me with the same look I sent her earlier. My suspicions were growing stronger by the second.

    Dont you remember, honey? I falsely scolded the cksmith. Told you you had nothing to worry about. I took care of everything.

    After a brief moment of puzzlement, she quickly caught on to my scheme and yed along. Oh, right sorry, I forgot.

    The sailor squinted at us, and then at the child. And the boy? Hes not on the booked list.

    Hes my son. I put a hand on the childs shoulder. He looked at me and back at his mom, but thankfully said nothing. His blue eyes, the same color as mine, helped me sell the lie. We decided to take him with us at thest minute. I hope it wont be a problem?

    The sailor checked the purse. It will cost an extra silver.

    Ah yes, here came my old friend greed. Time to live up to that Merchant ss.

    I booked in advance, and were going to introduce him to his grandparents in Snowdrift, I lied through my teeth. Surely you can do a gesture to a fellow Archfrostian? My mom and dad havent seen me since the war.

    My sob story, delivered with a sorrowful look and in my native tongue, tugged at the sailors heartstrings. He tried to look impassible, but his lips pursed a bit at the edge. Everyone in Archfrost had either lost someone or been impacted by the civil war. The fact the child shyly looked at the ground rather than at the man only helped us more.

    Alright, fine, the sailor said while gesturing at the three of us. Come along.

    Thank you. I nodded briefly at the man and turned to my new fellow travelers. Youve heard. Time to return home.

    The woman frowned sorrowfully when I said thest part, but nodded calmly. Come, Benicio, she gently told her son. Everything will be fine.

    The boy meekly held his mother by the hand as we stepped onto the galley. A dozen people were already present on the deck; mercenaries traveling to the Stonegarde fortress after a trip to Snowdrift, merchants seeking to supply themselves upstream, religious pilgrims looking to pay homage to Archfrosts hero-shrines, craftsmen traveling from one opportunity to the next, and more. The ship carried both merchandise and animals in its cargo hold; the sailors spent more time trying to get a trio of horses onboard than human passengers.

    Thanks, stranger, the woman said as she and her son joined me along the railguard. The breeze blew in our faces. You saved our hides.

    Youre wee, I replied, low enough that no one would hear us over the wind. So, which hero are you?

    Her warm smile confirmed my suspicions. I knew you felt familiar somehow.

    I guess our marks must react to each other when were close. I extended a hand. Whats your name? You already know mine.

    Marika. Marika Lunastello. She shook my hand and put another on her childs head. Benicio, say hello.

    The boy found enough courage to nod at me, before suddenly ncing at my boots. He was skittish, this one. Too much.

    Im sorry, Benicio doesnt speak much anymore. Marikas smile faded away. Weve been through tough times.

    I could only see a few reasons why a woman would travel abroad with work tools and a child in tow. Youre widowed?

    Yes. Marikas scowl deepened, and little Benicios eyes fidgeted from left to right; like a horned rabbit suddenly afraid a dreadwolf might jump out of the shadows. Something like that.

    <em>Theyre running away from someone</em>. I gathered enough to ask no more. I had stepped on a raw wound. <em>Makes sense why she would keep her ss under wraps. Word would spread.</em>

    Benicio tugged at his mothers sleeve. What is it? Marika asked, her son pointed at the dock. Did something catch your interest?

    My gaze followed the childs finger. Sailors were helping a ck war stallion embark. Their owner, some kind of heavy knight over six-feet tall, was quite the sight. Their red armor was fashioned from iron and leather tes intricately joined together. Their surface glimmered in the sunlight like zing embers. An azure-eyed, white tigers emblem was painted on their chest. I caught a glimpse of two hardened golden eyes and a tuft of ck hair through their mighty, two-horned helmets visor; mouth and nose alike were buried under a te of steel. A strange curved sword hung at their belt, and they carried a light lute on their back.

    Impressive, Marika whispered.

    Ive never seen that kind of armor, I said, suddenly curious. The warriors boots made no sound when they strode on the deck in spite of their heavy equipment. They moved with an air of authority that belied their experience.

    Its a Shinkokan design, Marika replied. Theycquer their armors to make them waterproof and use standardized tes to repair them more easily.

    I chuckled. You have an experts eye.

    Thats my job. Marika whistled, her eyes shining when she examined the knights armor and weapon from afar. That warrior must be quite wealthy. All of the tes are reinforced with firesilk essence for defense and flexibility. The sword has benefited from a diamond infusion to increase the sharpness, and the helmet with wind to smother the noise of battle. Same with the horses barding.

    I focused on the warriors equipment and noticed the faint, colorful wisps of essences emanating from their armor. To own even a single magical item betrayed a high level of wealth. To pack so many meant they were either an elite adventurer or a high-ranking noble. Since no Shinkokan warrior graced the Rivend Federation since thest war, my curiosity only grew.

    Moreover, the more I looked at this warrior the more familiar they felt. Marika started frowning too, though she focused more on the knights sword than the warrior themselves. The swordsman returned our gaze with a confused look.

    Destiny knew nothing of subtlety.

    Marika briskly let go of the railguard without warning and fearlessly stepped toward the mysterious stranger. You, she said with an rmed, frightened voice. How many people have you cut down with your de?

    Hundreds, the warrior replied bluntly. To my surprise, the voice belonged to a woman.

    Well, that was a hundred too many. Marika scowled at the sword. Did it speak to you?

    The mystery knight remained sullenly silent for a few seconds, before answering with a firm, Yes.

    Your weapon bears a curse. Marika extended a hand. Lend it to me. I can exorcize it.

    Exorcize it? I focused on the sword. An overwhelming wave of dread and disquiet coursed over me when I identified its essence. A malicious, iridescent smoke emanated from the edge, invisible to most yet fearfully potent. The bitter taste of blood rushed over my tongue and the smell of death filled my nostrils. The leather sheath couldnt contain whatever evil miasma suffused the sword.

    Whats going on here? I whispered. To my surprise, Benicio instinctively moved behind me. Can you feel it too?

    The child nodded slowly, his hands trembling with fear. I gently put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. Whatever happened to the de frightened him deeply.

    The red swordswoman stood motionless like a mountain in the wind, holding her ground. I have appreciation for the concern, but you have no need for worry, she answered in broken Rivendian. It wasnt her native tongue for sure. The burden is mine to bear.

    Marikas anxious look turned into one of cold anger. It wont be when the sword takes you over.

    I will not be losing. The warriors armored hands tightened into fists. I have great will.

    Her ent was melodic, with a stilted focus on sybes. Definitely Shinkokan. However, from the way she deliberately pondered each word and still made basic grammar errors, the swordswoman clearly struggled with the Rivendian dialect. She was no armed diplomat on a mission.

    You can resist it a hundred times, but you can falter only once. Marika red at the knight, heedless of the size difference. Her face strained with anger and a steely re. And then it will be an innocent who will pay the price for your foolishness.

    Though Marika did not raise her voice, she might as well have punched the knight in the face. The swordswoman flinched, their poised, unwaveringposure utterly shattered. I half-expected her to fall off the railguard, but she managed to correct her stance.

    Marikas brow furrowed deeper. Lend it to me.

    The knight hesitated for a moment, before reluctantly assenting to the request with a nod. Marika all but snatched the sword off her belt. A baleful aura glimmered around the sheath when it changed hands.

    I need space, she told me without skipping a beat. The ship was pulling from the dock and moving onto the river. Wheres your cabin, Robin?

    I asked a sailor, who guided us to a cramped room near the cargo hold. It was barelyrge enough for the four of us to fit in, with two straw beds sitting against the wooden bulkhead and a desk for amodation. A porthole allowed light to drift in. Marika immediately tossed the only cupboard outside for more space. Beni, can you put my purestone on the mattress and hold it?

    Her son removed the whetstone from his bag,id it to rest on the bed, and held it with both hands. The knight and I watched on as Marika unsheathed the curved sword, a splendid weapon with a polished diamond edge, and grabbed a small hammer from among her tools. I noticed carvings on the head and the faint wisp of essence radiating off it.

    Hold still, Beni, Marika told her son, biting her lip as she held the sword over the stone with one hand and raised her hammer with the other. The curse is young, so it might scream a bit.

    Do you require assistance? I asked in concern, though I had no idea what was going on. The red knight, who seemed to understand, closed the cabins door behind us.

    No, dont worry, Marika replied with a proud grin. Im a weapon exorcist. I know my craft.

    She hit the swords edge with all her might, and the de <em>screeched in pain</em>.

    I jumped in surprise at the strident scream. A plume of darkness rose from the weapon where the hammer hit it. The whetstone, oval and translucent, absorbed it within itself. A patch of baleful ckness appeared on its surface like a leopards spot.

    Marika quickly followed with a second strike, and then a third. Each time the de bled ck essence with a shriek and red veins manifested along its edge. Shy little Benicio didnt even flinch, and the red knight watched the scene with grim eyes. The whetstone grew a new patch with each blow of the hammer, though the weapons screams weakened as well.

    <em>Shes purging it of essence,</em> I guessed from observation. The de was bleeding malice before my eyes and spilling it onto another container. Whatever evil spirit had taken hold of the sword was being sealed away one strike at a time. Since the stones weathered surface showed hints of repeated forging and yet showed no spot of darkness before Marika started working, I assumed it would purify the malice with time. Fascinating work.

    Thanks. My praise filled Marika with pride. Although she continued beating the sword into shape, she rxed enough for small talk. When a weapon takes enough lives, they be stained by the malice of the dead. Their essence bes tainted. Warped. Over time, it coalesces into a curse.

    A promise of death, the knight whispered.

    Marika nodded gravely. Cursed weapons develop a taste for blood. The weak ones subtly influence their owners. The truly dangerous ones, those which have imed countless victims wield their wielder. They warp peoples flesh and turn them into bloodthirsty monsters.

    Must be pretty horrifying, I said, the memory of Sforzas gruesome transformationing to mind. Little Benicio visibly chewed his own lip. I didnt need more details to suspect what caused him to be mute; from the grim way Marika described the transformation, they had witnessed a pretty bad case. So your job is to purify weapons of evil essence?

    Thats the gist of it, Marika answered as she set aside her hammer. The sword was silent and the whetstone was riddled with ck stripes. Im a normal cksmith too. I refine weapons, repair them, break them up but weapon exorcism is my main expertise.

    She handed the sword back to the knight with a disapproving look. Why didnt you find an exorcist after hearing voices? You can clearly afford one.

    The swordswoman grabbed the sword by the handle and observed her reflection on the des surface. I wanted to have memories.

    Of what, the smell of blood? I asked.

    The warrior sheathed her sword before answering. My sins.

    <em>She is half a bear, this one</em>, I thought. A terse talker, but not the shy kind. I wondered how much of her behavior was due to her personality or from difficulties with speaking the Rivendian tongue. Whats your name, crimsondy?

    The warrior squinted at me with wariness. Sora Soraseo.

    You shouldnt stammer whening up with an alias, I advised her. It immediately gives you away.

    I see. I shall have memory of your advice. Soraseo nodded slowly without revealing her true name. You are like me. The smith too. Heroes.

    Straight to the point, eh? Marika chuckled. How about we take our gloves off at once?

    After checking that no one was listening through the door, we immediatelypared our marks. Below her glove, Marikas calloused left hand bore a silver hammer symbol with the Erebian numeral for neen. As for Soraseo, she simply removed her helmet to expose her true face. She had quite the lovely face, heart-shaped with delicate Shinkokan features,bed raven hair spilling onto her shoulders, and a silvery, fist-shaped mark numbered eight on her forehead.

    The Artisan and the Monk.

    <em>Curious, curious</em>, I thought while observing Soraseo. She looked around my age, with a fierce aura contrasting with her youthful appearance. <em>Shes fine with revealing her heros mark, but not her true name</em>. <em>She must be quite the noble to travel incognito. Ive never heard of a crimson knight from the Shinkoku though.</em>

    Youre the Merchant, Robin? Marikaughed upon checking my mark. As the Artisan, her ss was a vassal of mine. What are the odds?

    Slim, which means its not a coincidence, I pointed out. Three sses just happening to board the same ship on the same day made me wonder. Heroes do gather together.

    Soraseo nodded sharply. I have vassge to the Knight, who rules in Archfrost. My destination.

    Prince Rnd doesnt rule yet, I corrected her. Which was half the problem with Archfrosts leadership, alongside a certain secessionist duchy. Do you seek to pledge your sword to his cause?

    No. The swordswoman shook her head. I am to seek the Deadgate.

    I smirked at her joke, until I realized she was entirely serious. Then you are mad.

    The Deadwhat? Marika asked. She sent a nce at her son, who was peering through the porthole. Tradewinds shining rivershore shrank beyond the window. It would take a few days for the ship to carry us all the way to Snowdrift.

    The Deadgate, I said. It was a famous legend in Archfrost. They say its a crack in the Soulforge, where the dead reside before reincarnation. A ce where you can meet ghosts.

    I immediately gained Soraseos full interest. She studied me like a hungry hound smelling a rabbit. Do you have understanding of this ce? I must go there.

    You cant, I replied bluntly. Not alone at least.

    I must go. The swordsman leaned over me with a harsh, imperious expression. Only then did I realize she was taller than me, even without the helmet. Tell me.

    First of all, say please. I rubbed my fingers together, having smelled an opportunity. And itll cost you.

    Marika exploded in warmughter. Youll charge her for the information?

    Of course, I replied with a wink. You should ask her to pay for the exorcism too.

    She might have ended up killing someone had the curse festered longer, Marika said. It had to be done.

    I agree, I said with a smirk. But you should charge a fee nheless. All good work deserves payment.

    While Marika grinned slyly, Soraseo frowned. Merchant you are, that is true, said the swordswoman. How much will you have please?

    Im thinking more of a trade. I pointed at my mark. Ive been looking for someone trustworthy to test my sss limits with. A fellow hero would do nicely.

    Same, Marika said. We can help each other.

    We have each other''s understanding then. Soraseo crossed her arms. But a good merchant shows goods first.

    Who did she take me for? From what I heard, the Deadgate is located somewhere in the Whitethroat region north of Archfrost, I exined. Where the wind is so cold, it chills the soul.

    And so I embarked on telling a new and interesting spin on the famous Archfrostian Spring battle, where the Glorious Generationone of the greatest groups of heroes the world had ever seendefeated the undead dragon Xernobog and his army of beastmen. So gripping was my tale that I managed to draw little Benicio from his lethargy. The boy sat on his mothersp to better listen, almost as rapturously as Soraseo herself.

    When Xernobog fell, his rotten dragon blood stained the snow red and Priest Chernov prayed to the four artifacts to seize his wicked spirit, I said. The Seacup itself opened a hole in the Soulforge to fulfill his request. So ended the Long Winter and the War of the Three Cold Years.

    I have seeing. Soraseo sat on a mattress. The Deadgate is where the dragon met death.

    Or so they say, I replied. Now you understand why its madness to go there. The battle took ce in the Whitethroat region, far to the north of Archfrost. Not only must you get past Stonegarde, but surviving the journey beyond it is an ordeal. Its a destend where the wind is cold enough to turn steel brittle and the beastmen tribes rule.

    Soraseo approached the nigh-impossible with a nk face and a look of determination. I have the understanding now.

    Why are you looking for this ce? Marika asked with a curious look.

    There is something I must give apologies to. Soraseo looked away at the porthole, herposure cracking to reveal sorrow festering underneath. Someone dead.

    I nced at her sword and put two and two together. Someone you killed.

    Soraseo nodded slowly, her tongue tied. Marika might have exorcized her weapon, but she was still being haunted by someone else.

    Well, she would have the opportunity to apologize to that person. Either she seeded in reaching Deadgate, or she would likely perish on the journey there. I could tell trying to dissuade her directly would be met with indifferenceher mind was setbut I still tried to gently nudge her away from this madness.

    To reach the Deadgate, you must get past the Stonegarde fortress that keeps Archfrost safe from beastmen raids, I said. They dont let anyone through, not to mention the journey will be a trying one. You should stay in Snowdrift for a while to prepare. See if you can find a map or a guide.

    Your words have wisdom, merchant, she answered. Though I had the feeling she would ignore them nheless. I have purchased your knowledge. I will pay now.

    Excellent. I loved an honest customer. I sat next to her on the mattress and peeked inside my purse. Im told that I can buy and sell anything, but I cant believe my ability has no hard limits whatsoever. Ive thought of a few exercises to test them.

    Can you buy a star? Marika joked while petting her sons hair. Benicio loves them.

    I actually tried to purchase one, I confessed, much to her amusement. I asked the night to sell me the wyvern constetion.

    So? Marika raised a curious eyebrow. Did the night agree?

    She didnt answer me, I said, disappointing her son. Maybe I should ask the goddess herself.

    I had so many questions for her. Could I sell her the moon or buy the sun? Did everything have a set price? How much was a memory worth? Could I force a trade under duress? Tales abounded of a cunning Merchant swindling kings of their kingdoms and fulfilling poor orphans wishes, but I believed none of them. A power as vast as mine required boundaries. The potential for abuse was simply unfathomable otherwise.

    Soraseos next words drew me out of my thoughts. I have understanding that ssese in pairs. The Knight has mastery of weapons; the Mage has mastery of spells. The Bard has knowledge of mens souls and the Ranger of thenguage of animals.

    The Rogue can steal anything, Marika reminisced. But they never give it back.

    Ah, I see your point. I drew three gold coins from my purse. The Rogue can umte power quickly since they dont ask for permission, but I can share mine?

    Seems like a good idea to start with, Marika said. Her eyes observed the gold coin with a tiny bit of envy; as for Benicio, it mesmerized him. I wondered if he had ever seen one before.

    I handed a coin to Soraseo and dangled another to the lovely Artisan in the room. Do you want to see your mother work magic, Benicio? I asked her son. The heroic kind?

    Sullen he might be, Little Benicio remained a child. He looked at his mother, who grabbed the coin with a smirk on her face. Youre a rascal, Robin, she said. Using my own son against me.

    Its what I do, I replied before flipping my own coin and turning to face Soraseo. Oh crimson knight, have you ever heard of Shield-Sword-Scroll?

    I have no Knight ss. Soraseo frowned in confusion. I have a sword, and I have paper in my bag. I do not carry a shield. I need both hands to cut a man in half.

    Marika chuckled at her ignorance, while I smiled. Perfect. She didnt understand anything.

    We use the three for a game, I said while pointing a finger at Soraseos coin. I will sell you the knowledge required to y it for a gold piece.

    The knowledge? Soraseo was somewhat confused, but handed me her coin anyway. Very well. I purchase your understanding.

    My vision went white the moment my fingers grabbed the coin, though only for a brief sh. Soraseo blinked as if she had learned a surprising secret.

    Did it work? Marika asked, her son quiet as a ghost on herp.

    I have a small understanding, Saraseo replied with a frown. I see how a good shield can stop a sword, but why would a scroll defeat a shield? Paper cannot break a shield without essence.

    I had no clue what she was talking about.

    I tried to remember the basics of Shield-Sword-Scroll and came up short. I <em>knew </em>it was a game of some sort and that I had yed it many times with Mersie, but I couldnt remember the rules at all.

    Marika chuckled at my obvious confusion. You forgot?

    Somewhat. I focused on memories of older games, only for a fog to obscure them. I remembered who I had beaten or been defeated by at the game, including a drunkenpetition with Sforzas men. Its strange. I remember the games oues and surrounding circumstances, but not the matches themselves.

    You sold me the understanding of how to y, Soraseo pointed out wisely. Not the awareness of the game.

    I nodded in confirmation. She was onto something. Can someone teach me the rules? I need to see if I can remember them.

    Little Benicio raised his hands, mimicking a shield with an open palm, a rolled scroll with a fist, and a sword with a raised thumb; though a dagger would have been more appropriate for that one.

    Sword beats scroll, Marika exined. Scroll beats shield, which beats sword.

    Soraseo was right, the rules made little sense to me. However, the fog over my memory cleared when I practiced the game with Soraseo a few times. I forgot whatever information I sold, but it wasnt barred to me from then on. I could learn it from scratch.

    Now, something more extreme. I offered Soraseo a coin. I will buy your knowledge of Shield-Sword-Scroll. One very important detail, I want your knowledge of the game itself.

    I have agreement. The swordswomans golden eyes widened slightly when she grabbed my coin. She nced at her newfound money with a confused look, then turned her head around as if looking for something she couldnt see.

    Marikas jaw tightened in concern. Are you well?

    I have no memory of what we were having a discussion about. Soraseo massaged her temple as if struggling against a headache. I believe we exchanged something something I dont something I dont have memory of anymore. This is having a bothering effect on me.

    You sold me knowledge of a game, I exined. You yed a match against me less than a minute ago. Do you remember it?

    I have the intuition that we yed a game, but not which one. Soraseo turned to Marika in confusion. Did we?

    Yes. Marika scowled at me. This power of yours is quite sinister, Robin. I can see how the previous Merchants swindled so many people.

    No kidding. I hadnt only taken Soraseos memory of the game, but of the trade itself along the way. If I were like Sforza, I could easily gaslight a poor schmuck into repeated exchanges. Though speaking of swindling

    Next test. I turned to face Marika this time. Ill buy the sun from you for the coin you own.

    I dont owah, I get it! Marika scoffed upon guessing my intent. She yed the part and handed me my pocket change back. Very well. An honest trade.

    The coin vanished the very moment it passed into my hand.

    I blinked in surprise as it reappeared inside Marikas palm. I had expected something more subtle, but there could be no mistaking it. My magic had voided the deal and made it very clear.

    I see how it is, I muttered. I decided to check anyway. Heres my new offer, Marika: I will sell you the Monks hair color against a gold coin.

    I do not agree to this trading, Soraseo protested.

    Yes, thats the whole point, Marika said as she purchased her fellow heros hair color. Once again the coin teleported out of my hand, and Soraseos own hair did not turn white. He cannot sell what he does not own, nor purchase what the seller cannot provide.

    I hid my relief. My power would be utterly <em>terrifying </em>if I didnt have to deliver on my end of the bargain; even I would be tempted to abuse it. Thank the goddess she put safeguards against bad practices.

    Next test, I said. At this point, we each possessed a coin. I nodded sharply and looked at Soraseo. Please give permission to Marika to sell the coin you hold in your hand, but dont specify any price.

    I have no understanding of your intent, but you have my agreement. Soraseo turned Marika and met his gaze. I give you the allowing.

    Now, I will buy Soraseos coin and yours for one of mine, I told Marika. Do you agree?

    Thats tantly unfair, but alright, Marika agreed.

    The moment the Artisan seized her prize, her coin and that of the Monk found their way into the Merchants palm. Little Benicios jaw dropped in amazement, his surprise a soothing balm for my soul. All was right in the world or so it seemed.

    Oh, I have the understanding now. Soraseo nodded upon figuring out my experiment. You can delegate the power.

    Yes, but somethings not right. I squinted at Marikas newfound coin. I traded this coin for two. It should have split in two, since you both own half of its value.

    Soraseo didnt specify a price, Marika pointed out. Maybe the result will change if she suggests one?

    Perhaps, I conceded. Lets do it again Soraseo, but this time you must explicitly ask for half a coin as your price.

    We repeated the experiment with this slight variation. My power immediately canceled the trade, returning the intact coins to their original owners. We exchanged looks of iprehension and I let out a sigh.

    New attempt, I said. This time Soraseo, you must allow Marika to trade your coin for one. I will buy Marikas coin and yours for two of mine.

    We proceeded with the test, and this time my magic activated properly: Soraseos coin switched ces with one of mine, as did Marikas. Why did it activate this time? thetter asked in amazement.

    I cant sell a fraction of a thing, I guessed, while flipping my coin in the air. The part sold must bepartmentalized and specified. I can sell knowledge of a games rules, but not half the knowledge of the game.

    Little Benicio caught my coin in midair and I let him keep it, much to his mothers amusement. And the first exchange? Marika asked. I sold Soraseos coin and one of mine, but kept the change.

    I suspect my power interprets a mandate to sell something at any price as giving it away, I said. But Ill require more testing to check.

    Soraseo scowled, her eyes squinting in suspicion. What if the intermediary betrays the will of the customer? What of lying?

    I shrugged. Lets check.

    We did. Fortunately, it turned out that my power was rigidly fair. Soraseo allowed Marika to sell one of her coins for two more; when the Artisan asked for a single piece, my magic canceled the trade. Same when I offered to sell three of mine instead of two, although Soraseo would have benefited from the transaction.

    Seems your power follows a trade to the letter, Marika noted.

    Lets see if intent influences the deal, I said after distributing new coins from the purse. This time I want both of you to vocally agree to a fair deal without intending to deliver in your heart. Ill also lie about my intentions. None of us will make a move to actually give away our respective coins. Well just vocally agree to the trade.

    We all proceeded to make the deal in bad faith; and my power <em>still </em>validated the transaction, switching our coins around. Intentions didnt matter, only the letter of the deal. No party could break their word.

    We tried it again right after, except this time I made a mental effort not to activate my power. It thankfully did not activate and I breathed in relief. I could switch my ability off. However, I needed to be really careful about my sentences from now on. Because if I agreed to a deal while my ability was active, my power <em>would </em>force me to deliver and it would interpret the bargain rigidly. My word wasw.

    Was silence too?

    Next exercise, I said. This time Soraseo, you will offer me to trade your coin for one of mine. I wont answer, Ill just nod in agreement but make no move to deliver the coin. If the coins dont teleport, I want you to take my coin and give me yours.

    I shall try, the swordswoman replied with a nod. I will have one of your coins for one of mine, Lord Merchant.

    I nodded sharply and made a mental effort to activate my power. The coins in question didnt teleport. Soraseo proceeded to take my coin out of myp and rece it with one of her own. Our respective money was immediately teleported back to their original owner. The deal had been voided.

    Silence did not equal eptance. Good.

    Okay, now you will ask again. I looked into my travel bag and brought out a scroll I used for notekeeping. But this time I will write that I consent to the trade in its exact terms. Well repeat the experiment afterwards, except Ill just write I consent to these terms without adding more.

    Results were interesting. When I wrote down that I conceded to the trade in the terms proposed by Soraseo, my magic activated and exchanged the coins. When my answer was vague, my power refused to validate the trade. This meant my ability could work through written contracts.

    Little Benicio had lost interest in the tiresome process and yawned. I took it as a signal to stop and review my findings.

    Here are the rules of the Merchant ss Ive gathered so far, I said while scribbling notes. I can buy or sell nearly anything so long as its neatly detailed, from information, to traits, to physical goods. My power requires an exchange, so no freebies. I cant sell something I do not own nor purchase what my client doesnt possess; and when knowledge or a skill is bought, the previous owner loses it. I cannot sell the same information multiple times, but nothing prevents me from learning it again. What is sold must be whole or quantified. I cannot buy half a body, but I can buy one arm or a leg. The price must be agreed upon by both parties orally or on paper; intentions dont matter, not even mine. And though intermediaries are allowed, consent must be explicit and given clear boundaries.

    You figured this out in half an hour? Marika whistled. That is truly impressive.

    Soraseo offered me a nod of respect too. I could tell I had risen in her esteem. You have a great and frightful power, Lord Merchant.

    There were a few more limits I would need to test: would my power validate a trade to which I wasnt a direct party to, such as Soraseo selling her knowledge to Marika? How far did the teleportation effects range extend? What other forms ofmunication could trigger my power? Would it activate if the seller didnt have the goods, but would obtain them at ater date after the agreements conclusion? How many intermediaries could my power support? Could I ask a king to sell me a year from each of his subjects lifespan?

    And most importantly Could I buy or sell a ss? I doubted the goddess wouldnt close this loophole considering the potential for abuse, but who knew? I doubted any of us would agree to such a trade, so I didnt broach the subject.

    In any case, thank you for your cooperation. I grinned at my fellow heroes. Now that youve seen mine, how about you show me your powers?

    I half-expected Soraseo not to say anything, since she kept her true name a secret. However, it seemed our little training session earned me some trust. I have understanding of the body, she said, pointing at Marikas whetstone and tools. Can you show your craft, cksmith?

    Marika cocked her head to one side in confusion. How so? I require a fire to forge a weapon, and I dont think the captain would enjoy me setting up one on his ship.

    Only have the movements, Soraseo insisted. For performance.

    Marika hesitated, but a giddy look from her curious son convinced her to y along. She grabbed a tool and mimicked forging a sword over the whetstone.

    Soraseos mark glowed with a silvery gleam and the Monk swiftly imitated Marikas movements with uncanny precision. Even the most talented imitators required a short time to register their targets shift in posture. Not Soraseo. She copied every tiny gesture from Marika, down to the subtle facial expressions and the twitch of the fingers. Her hand wielded a phantom hammer with the practiced skill of an expert. It was almost disturbing.

    If I see another move one way, I can do it again, Soraseo exined when Marika finished. My muscles have the memory. My sword is my weapon, but my hands and feet are strong too.

    I heard people in the east practiced hand-to-hand martial arts in tandem with essence infusions. It took students years to master these skills, while Soraseo could surpass them with a look. Her power wasnt as devastating as the Knights or the Mages, but it would make her a fearsomebatant nheless.

    Does this apply to any physical skill? I asked, which Soraseo confirmed with a terse nod. Then you can learn how to y instruments, how to craft and cook

    It took me years of practice to learn weapon forging, but you could rival me in hours. Marika chuckled in embarrassment. Im kind of jealous.

    The praise is not mine, Soraseo replied humbly. The mark has the power. Not me.

    I immediately wondered about the synergies between our respective sses. Soraseo could quickly learn skills and then sell them to an intermediary through my humble contribution. In return, I could provide physical or immaterial boons her power couldnt replicate. The goddess expected the heroes to fight together and it showed.

    What about you, Marika? I asked my new friend. What can the Artisan craft?

    Marika blushed a bit in embarrassment. Since her sons eyes lit up with interest, I guessed her ability was the shy kind.

    Can I borrow two of your coins? she asked me with some hesitation. When I agreed, Marika rubbed them together. Look.

    Her mark lit up and her magic activated in the blink of an eye. I watched on in amazement as the two coins merged together; their gold seamlessly melted into a single piece twice as big as the original two.

    From what I gathered, I can fuse two items together, essences included. Marika handed me the oversized coin back with a sheepish smile. Ive merged two swords, a leather vest and steel tes, a hammer and a sickle

    Could you merge a boat with a carriage? I whispered while examining the coin. Though it weighed as much as itsponents, it was exquisitely crafted. I couldnt find any scratch or signs of the fusion. As far as my eyes were concerned, this piece had been made from scratch. Or a cannon with a sword?

    Marika chuckled. Why is <em>that </em>the first thates to your mind?

    A sword with a cannon would be unwieldy, Soraseo said with a straight face. Too heavy a weight. A dagger and an arquebuse would have the better weightlessness.

    But its hero magic! I pointed out, excited like a child in a candy store. The Artisans power had so many applications! If I can sell memories, maybe Marika can build a working cannonde! We cant know until she tries!

    Find me an Iremian rune-cannonying around in a closet and then we can talk, Marika teased me, though I could tell my idea appealed to her. What cksmith hadnt dreamed ofbining the best weapons into a deadly king of the battlefield? I confess, Im still trying to figure out my ability as I go.

    Say no more! I searched in my bag. I purchased a piece of dry beef at the inn yesterday. Well see if you can fuse meat and gold.

    Marika stared nkly at me. Why would you want to do that?

    I returned her gaze. For science.

    The righteousness of my cause, and the excited look her mute son sent her, convinced Marika to go along. Even Soraseo remained silent, unable to suppress her curiosity.

    This was going to be a long trip and the start of lifelong friendships.

 Chapter Three: Demon Snows

    Chapter Three: Demon Snows

    We confirmed that the Artisan couldnt merge gold with beef after many tries, much to my dismay.

    Why is it working with the bone, but not the flesh? I wondered while examining the result of ourtest experiment: a beef rib shaped from the purest gold. At least this confirms the conservation of mass hypothesis.

    Marika nodded sharply. The cabins floor was covered with trinkets she crafted with her magic: a metal quill, a silver die, a small booklet created from my newspaper and some leather, and a small wood horse Beni loved to y with. My power doesnt create nor destroy. Itbines and transforms.

    But is meat an exception? I asked, unable to let go of my idea of building a golden cow. I just dont get it.

    Maybe my power must consider the material as not-alive to work? Marika suggested with a sheepish smile. Im drawing a nk here.

    What is wood but a dead tree? I pointed out. Most leather is made of animal skin too. So why can you use leather as material but not the meat itself? It doesnt make any sense!

    The leather is hard, Soraseo suggested. The meat is soft.

    I opened my mouth to protest that it couldnt be so simple, closed it upon realizing she might have a point, and then settled on testing it. How aboutbining liquids? I said upon bringing out my waterskin. Can youbine a liquid with solid matter?

    Ive never tried, Marika admitted. I spilled a few drops of water on the metal quill. She activated her power, to no effect. Doesnt work.

    I wasnt entirely convinced. It might be that you cantbine an item that youve already fused.

    I can check. Marika ced the metal quill on the back of the wooden horse toy. Thetter swiftly grew iron wings and became a pegasus, much to Benicios silent joy. Ah, I knew it. Im not limited to one fusion.

    I admitted defeat. Alright, alright, our crimson knight might have guessed correctly.

    I am not the Knight, Soraseo reminded me. By now, I realized she failed to pick up on most jokes and sarcasm due to thenguage barrier. Meat cannot build a wall. That is obvious.

    Makes sense to me, Marika said with a shrug. You can build a lot of things with bones: instruments, tools, even weapons. Cant say the same for flesh or water.

    What about living creatures? I presented the golden bone to Marika. Can you fuse it with me?

    Marika squinted at me as if I had gone insane. Im not infusing you with some cows bone.

    Imagine if we could graft wings on a real horse, I suggested with a smile. You could buy your son a pegasus ride for a ponys price!

    As I had calcted, Little Benicio immediately looked up at his mother with pleading eyes. Marika bit her lip in annoyance, but didnt find the strength to resist. If it turns that sharp tongue of yours to gold, she said upon pressing the bone against my forehead, Illugh.

    I would dly bear her taunts for the sake of furthering human potential. I watched Marikas mark glow and little else. The golden bone remained firmly outside of my body.

    Sorry Beni, Marika apologized to her disappointed son. The pegasus ride will have to wait.

    Guess I wont turn my hands into swords anytime soon then, I muttered in disappointment.

    That would be unwieldy, Soraseo said with a thin smile. You would not have the power to carry anything.

    In any case, we had established the basic rules of Marikas power already: she could fuse two or more solidponents, essences included, by grabbing at least one. We had already established that she needed to force both items to touch for her magic to work, though she wasnt required to touch them all at once; she fused the metal quill with the wooden horse without grabbing thetter. All she needed was to have theponents in contact with each other before activating her power.

    There was no limit to how manyponents she couldbine at once, or at least none we could figure out with the tools at hand. Fused items could be fused again, and the mass never changed. Marikas creations were always usable, or at least appeared expertly crafted. Mismatched toolsbined into a harmonious whole.

    Moreover, I noticed that the Artisans abilitycked the esoteric, conceptual aspects of the Merchant ss. Marika couldntbine skills the way I could buy and sell them. Vassal sses seemed to suffer from harsher limitations than the great ones.

    I wonder if your ability stops working if theponents get too big, Marika. I scratched the back of my head. We should try it out withrger items in the future.

    You want to fuse a castle and a carriage? Marika suggested half-jokingly.

    Why not? I shrugged. Imagine how much it would shorten a houses construction, shipbuilding, siege engine creation, and more. Your power has hard limits, but its potential boggles the mind.

    Oh. Marika blushed in embarrassment. I never considered those applications.

    Little Benicio let out a yawn. A quick look through the porthole informed me that night had fallen. I couldnt believe we had spent the whole day experimenting.

    Itste. Marika scratched her sons hair. I need to put Beni to bed.

    He can take one of those, I said, waving at the two mattresses in the cabin. I turned my head to Soraseo. Do you have a cabin too?

    The Monk shook her head. I shall sing and sleep under the stars.

    I nced at her lute and smirked. You wouldnt have happened to have booked a room earlier at the <em>Tawny Mermaid</em>?

    Soraseos lips curved into a thin smile. You have heard me y the biwa.

    Is that the name of your instrument? I didnt know. I supposed it must have been unique to the Shinkoku. How about you show me how to y it?

    Soraseo graciously epted my invitation, and exited the cabin after bowing before Marika and her son. Id already seen traders from easternnds use the gesture as a way to say goodbye. How polite and proper. She had to be a noble of some kind.

    The wind was cold and the moon shone high in the sky. Our ship effortlessly glided along the water, whose surface reflected the stars silvery glow. Darkness drowned the riverbank except for the looming shape of mountains in the distance. Though Mount Erebia was the worlds tallest mountain, its little sisters and brothers, the Crown of Fangs, split the continent in two. It would take us another day to get past them, and two more to reach Snowdrift.

    The ship was too small to afford many private spaces, and most passengers slept where they could find space. Half a dozen people were already sleeping on the deck in makeshift beds, using their belongings and travel bags as makeshift nkets and pillows. A sailor was fishing along the guardrail and another was standing at the prow to look for any unseen rocks or other obstacles that might hit the boat. Soraseo found us a spot near the back of the ship and away from the crowd.

    I can smell it in the wind, Lord Robin. She sat along the guardrail with otherworldly grace, seized her instrument, and pinched its strings. Your dagger tasted blood before.

    Less than your sword, I replied. And it was a demons blood.

    Soraseo cradled the biwa close to her chest. A demon carrying a golden coin?

    My hands tensed on the guardrail. Soraseos haunting melody resonated in the night air and echoed the ripples of the river below. Youve encountered one yourself?

    Soraseo confirmed my suspicion with a nod. A few passengers looked at her, fascinated by her music, but the melody covered the sound of our voices and afforded us a degree of privacy. A demon attacked me on the road to Tradewind. I had the victory, but it was a narrow win.

    When did that ambush take ce? I questioned her.

    Two nights ago. Soraseo tuned her notes to the gentlepping of the water below. He was a man and then became a beast with a thousand fangs. A fiend.

    Then this attack happened soon after she received her mark. What did you do with the coin? I asked. From what I was told, the Devil of Greed can use it to purchase souls.

    The Wanderer gave me a visit and took it away. Soraseo closed her eyes, her fingers dancing on the strings. She was so focused on her performance, so graceful, that it became mesmerizing. She didnt look too much like a warrior anymore, even with the armor and sheathed sword. She had much oddness? Is that the word?

    Yes. Eris description put a smile on my lips. At least it confirmed she was still visiting heroes to provide guidance. Still, the fact that the two of us suffered a demon attack in such a short time bothered me greatly. Did the demon say anything in particr? I wonder if the ambush is connected to the one I suffered from.

    When I put my sword in his heart, the demon whispered Soraseo frowned as she struggled to remember the exact words. <em>Surrender yourself not to despair for soon, the true heroes shall return</em>.

    The <em>true </em>heroes? I nced at my glove, which hid the mark below. My ss looks true to me.

    Demons tell lies, Lord Robin. It is what they do.

    But if weve both been attacked within three days, then this implies a concerted campaign or the work of arge organization. Suddenly, the Fatebinders decision to send Eris to check on other heroes made a lot more sense. She probably feared they would be targeted by assassins soon after gaining their marks. It would be wiser for us to travel together from now on. Theres safety in numbers.

    I have appreciation for your concern, Lord Robin, but I must reach the Deadgate. Soraseo let go of a final note, whose sound drifted away into the night. Nothing else matters to me.

    The Deadgate cant bring back the dead to life, I pointed out. It only lets us see ghosts, or so I was told. Whoever haunts you will not return.

    I have the knowledge. Soraseo nced away at the waning moon. But I must still see her. To give apologies.

    I squinted at her. Is it worth throwing your life away?

    Yes, she replied without the slightest hesitation. Too quickly.

    <em>Its not that she doesnt care if she dies on a suicide mission</em>, I realized with a chill running down my spine. <em>She took up that quest </em><em><strong>because </strong></em><em>it is a suicide mission.</em>

    This woman desperately wanted to die and I didnt know enough about her to talk her out of this dangerous path.

    I heard footsteps behind me and turned my head. Marika. She joined us along the guardrail while Soraseo began ying a new melody, one even more sorrowful than the first.

    Beni hasnt slept in a real bed for weeks, Marika said with a contrite smile. It clearly bothered her to owe a favor to another. Thanks again, Robin. Youre sure it doesnt bother you?

    Its fine, theres space in the cabin, I replied with a shrug. Id always been fond of children since my time at the orphanage.

    Did someone stand you up? Marika asked. From her tone, the question had been bugging her for a while. You booked that cabin for two from what I understood.

    Id hoped to take someone along, but she abstained. I wished Mersie the best, especially with Sforza now out of the picture. It worked out well anyway. Why are you going to Archfrost?

    For work. Marika slouched against the guardrail to better look at the river. Ive heard Archfrost needs all the weapon exorcists they can get to deal with the banditry, beastmen incursions, and border skirmishes.

    There''s plenty of smith work to be found in the Rivend Federation, I pointed out, a question of my own on my lips. Why leave your homnd for a cold country trapped in a frozen conflict?

    Marika grabbed the pendant around her neck and examined it. Her eyes lost themselves in nostalgia and memories I wasnt privy to. I politely waited for her to put her thoughts in order.

    My husband saddled us with debts, she admitted. Her hand clenched on the pendant in sorrow. We had to sell pretty much everything we had, our house included, and were still in the red. Theres work for cksmiths in Tradewind, thats true

    But they are many cksmiths, and only a handful of weapon exorcists.

    And thetter job pays much better. Marika sighed. In a few years'' time, I can hope to clear our debts and pay for Benis apprenticeship with a guild.

    She couldnt be older than thirty. Her life was far from over, but she would spend the rest of it paying back for the mistakes of another and provide for her obviously traumatized son. It tugged at my heartstrings. How much debt?

    Eighty gold, she said, the number making me choke. By selling our house, Im down to half that amount.

    Though forty gold was pocket change for Ermelines nobility, it was a hefty sum for anybody else. A skilled cksmith could expect to earn three silver a day. Considering she supported herself and her son, not to mention the interest on the debt, it would probably take Marika a decade to pay everything back.

    At least, without a friends help. I could almost smell the scent of opportunity in the air.

    Say, Marika I gazed at the moon reflecting on the river''s surface. How about we start a business together?

    She looked at me as if I had grown a second head. A business?

    I have the capital and ideas, but neither the workers nor products. I can provide enough investment to cover your debt and help you establish a workshop. I tightened my fist as I imagined our glorious future. With ourbined powers, well be an unstoppable force ofmerce.

    Robin, you are very kind, but I Marika coughed in embarrassment, her face redder than a Fire Ind tomato. She was too humble for her own good. Forty gold is a huge sum, I cant I cant

    Dont get me wrong, Im not running a charity, I interrupted her. Its a business proposal with the aim of making us both ludicrously, <em>fantabulously </em>rich.

    Marika scoffed. <em>Fantabulously</em>? Is that a real word?

    The only one strong enough to describe my goal, I replied with a smirk. But making a fortune will be the easy part.

    The easy part? Marika choked. Of what?

    Of changing the world.

    Now I had Marikas full attention. Soraseo too had stopped ying her biwa, her eyebrows furrowing at me.

    Let me ask you a question. I grabbed a coin from my purse. Who is most powerful? A poor beggar or a rich lord?

    Soraseo shrugged. The lord has the power.

    And why is that? At the end of the day, are they not both humans? I flipped the coin in my hand. What gives this piece of metal power? Its soft, its inedible, and it doesnt shine all that much. Why is it worth more than good iron?

    Marika guessed quickly. Because everyone believes gold has value.

    Exactly. I nodded sharply. Wealth is the lever that moves the hearts of men. So are glory, love, faith and even then, coins can buy them all. Because power is not found in brawn or sses, but in the ability to move others in the direction youy before them. To write the rules that make up our society.

    Id learned that in Ermeline, where nobles bet more gold in a night than aborer could hope to earn in their entire lifetime. The poor suffered as they must while the wealthy decided the course of history. Whether kings or assemblies ruled did not matter; for the game never changed. The voices ofmoners were drowned under the noise of roulettes and theughs of well-born leeches.

    At the apex of the world, no one defends those in need, I exined. No one writes rules to helpmoners like us. And thats why Im going to climb my way up that mountain of gold. Because with the lever of wealth, Ill move the world itself. Ill put the wheel of history back on the right track, towards a prosperous future for everyone.

    I extended a hand to Marika. So what do you say? I asked her with a grin. Do you want to be rich with me?

    She had listened to my speech with a growing smile; she was a little amused and even more hopeful. After resigning herself to work like a ve for many more years, it must have felt refreshing to hear me speak of ambitions and lofty goals. It made her want to <em>believe</em>. To believe in a better future for her and her son.

    Youre insane, Robin. Has anybody told you that? Marika returned my smirk and my handshake. I felt our marks glow beneath our gloves. Im in, you madman.

    And like that, I hired my first employee.

    We reached Snowdrift on the fourth days dawn.

    I spent the trip getting to know Marika and Soraseo, experimenting with our respective powers, and gathering intel by discussing with the ship''s crew and passengers. By the time my hometown came into view, I knew what to expect.

    At its apex, Snowdrift had been a thriving city home to over twenty-thousand inhabitants. What remained bore the marks of the Purple gue that decimated Archfrost. The great buildings and archways along the riverbank stood as a testament to my hometowns lost glory.

    I remembered the old days vividly: theughs of my fellow children as we ran mock battles in ncoeurs Promenade, reying the Siege of Stonegarde under the amused eye of the city watch; the Heroes Feast festivities in Temple Alley, where the entire city gathered to celebrate Archfrosts founding and exchange gifts; the shouts of traders and fishmongers selling their wares along the docks to visitorsing from across all of Pangeal; the fireworks from the Witchcrafter Guilds loud and failed alchemical experiments; and more than anything, the fleeting noise of falling snow that gave the city its name. Snowdrift had never been Archfrostsrgest city, nor its most important one, but it had been loud and full of life.

    Now?

    Now I could only hear the spring wind blowing.

    My hometown cityy eerily quiet. The great cobblestone bridge that linked both halves of the city had ckened with ack of repairs and mncholy. When I nced over the guardrail I could only see boarded-up windows, abandoned houses, and closed doors. The north bank, the rich half of the city, endured better than the southern one with its painted facades and great mansions, but no mor could hide the painful truth: the Purple gue and civil war had reaped a grim toll. I looked around for the home of my childhood, but only saw crumbling ruins where my familys shack once stood.

    And yet and yet in spite of everything, I noticed glimmers of hope. Fishermen fishing along the river on their boats; merchant vessels unloading supplies on weathered piers; smoke rising defiantly from the forge works. Even the sprawling pine forests beyond the citys walls stood as a testament to lifes resilience.

    This town is an open grave, Marika whispered along the guardrail. Little Benicio stood quietly behind her, while Soraseo gazed north in full armor. She intended to move to Stonegarde as soon as wended. Were not going to find work here.

    I believe otherwise. I raised a hand and seized a snowke carried by the wind. With theing spring, these were thest snows of the year. This citys fortunes will rise again, and ours with it.

    But before we could build, I had to bury the past.

    I remembered a day fifteen years past, where I too stood at the prow of a ship; albeit one moving away from Snowdrift. My father Valdiv, a cobbler by trade, held me in his arms as we watched the docks turn smaller and smaller. Familiar faces awaited on the piers, family friends and acquaintances who couldnt purchase a trip or find space on the overcrowded ferry. I struggled to hold back my tears then.

    <em>Dont cry, Robin, </em>my father had told me. <em>Theyll join us after boarding the next ship, youll see.</em>

    Even then I knew it was a lie. Our ship had hit bloated purple corpses floating in the river on its way out of the city; anyone that stayed behind was condemned. So were many on that ferry.

    <em>Well return home one day, sweetling,</em> my mother had said kindly, a hand on her mouth to better hide her cough. I didnt think much of that gesture then, but it woulde back to haunt uster. <em>One way or another we will return one day.</em>

    I had believed in my mothers words then, but by the time we reached Ermeline she was already coughing blood and growing purple spots on her skin. Father outlived her by a few weeks, leaving me alone with onest request.

    Im sorry it took so long, I whispered as I took out the funeral urn from my bag. My parents ashes had been waiting for fifteen years. Your final wish is now fulfilled.

    I waited for the wind to blow behind me to open it. My parents ashes scattered into a cloud, merging with the fading snowkes.

    Was that someone important to you? Marika asked with a somber look.

    My parents. I watched solemnly as Archfrosts wind scattered my family to the winds. How strange it felt to see my past carried away; both liberating and sorrowful. The future was mine alone to shape, for better or worse. Its traditional in Archfrost to scatter ashes with the snow. That way, their essence remains to protect thend.

    I have the understanding. Soraseo nodded sharply. We burn the dead in my homnd too, so the dead do not rise again.

    I put the empty urn back in my bag as the docks stretched across the riverbank like a jagged scar. The piers timbers creaked when sailors moored our ship to it. The more Marika observed the area, the more she scowled; Little Benicio too began to cower behind her.

    Snowdrift has seen better days, I confessed. The city had be a corpse of its former, living self.

    Its not just the disrepair, Marika said grimly. Theres evil at work in this town. I feel it in the ambient essence.

    I frowned in confusion and focused on my surroundings. My mark warmed beneath my glove as my eyes began to distinguish the shades of essence suffusing Snowdrift. I immediately noticed something unusual. A shadow in the wind. A faint red mistden with curses.

    The exact same smoke that rose from Sforza when he transformed into an abomination.

    A demon. My jaw clenched in frustration. Had the rot festered so much since I left? Theres a demon hiding in <em>my </em>town.

    Considering thest fiend I met was Sforza, there could only be one answer to this indignity: root the monster out and take it down.

    Waite to think of it, when I spent time doing ounting work for Sforzas organization, I remembered mentions of contraband shipmentsing from Archfrost. I never knew what they wereanother branch of the criminal syndicate managed the merchandisebut considering Snowdrift was the closest port to the Rivend Federation, the contraband must have transited through it.

    Id wondered where Sforza found his cursed coin. Perhaps he received it from Snowdrift?

    Our journey came to an end along a worn-down cobblestone pier. The scent of fish hung heavily in the air. Sailors guided Soraseos ck stallion along the waterway and then bid us goodbye.

    Our moment of travel ends here, Soraseo said, a hand holding her horses reins. I must continue north to Stonegarde.

    Youll waste your time. I shook my head. Stonegardes garrison wont grant you passage.

    Soraseo frowned at me. What is your meaning?

    Ive discussed it with the other passengers. Due to the fear of spies feeding the beastmen information, the border ispletely closed. Considering Archfrost usually allowed traders and scouts to pass to gather information on their enemies, then the raids must have gotten pretty bad to warrant such a measure. Youll need a royal authorization to pass.

    I must ask the Prince for allowance?

    No. Youll need to go to his uncle, Sigismund, who oversees Archfrosts northern defenses. I pointed a finger at a dusky hill overseeing the better half of the city. A ck castle sat atop it. The citys ruler, Count Brynslow, is one of his vassals. I suggest seeking an audience with him first.

    Knowing Archfrosts bureaucracy, it would take Soraseo weeks to receive her authorization. Perhaps less if she unveiled her ss, but that would cause the crown to try and recruit her to their cause. I almost pitied Soraseo, even though these dys might save her life.

    I have understanding Soraseo crossed her arms in deep frustration. But this angers me very much.

    Itll take some time before the count grants you an audience, I informed Soraseo. How about you help us root out the demon in town in the meantime? I can help you secure an audience in return.

    What do trees have to do with demons? the Monk replied in confusion before shaking her head. But I will not give a demon permission to live.

    Marika scowled at me. Weve just arrived and you want to pick a fight?

    You were ready to challenge a fellow hero to heal their cursed weapon, I pointed out. From what little experience I have with them, demons are a curse on mankind.

    You have no need to worry, Lady Marika. Soraseos hand moved to her swords pommel. I have the power. No demon will harm you.

    I can defend myself, Marika said, her sledgehammer glittering in the dawns light. Her eyes wandered to her fearful son. Its not for me I worry about.

    I swear to the goddess well y it smart, I reassured her. Nothing would happen to Benicio on my watch. Welly low for now, settle in and gather information.

    Marika nodded slowly, although without much enthusiasm. So were going to rent a room somewhere?

    No need. I waved a hand at the empty houses along the waterfront. Dont you see? The whole town is for sale.

    Marika didnt have to ponder my words for long. We walked towards the nearest customs office, a big house near the waterfront, and swiftly met with a representative of Snowdrifts trade guild: a lovely middle-aged blonde by the name of Lady Freygrad. She was delighted to hear I was a local seeking to resettle in Snowdrift; doubly so when Marika revealed herself as a cksmith.

    The Purple gue and war left our citys guilds in shambles, Lady Freygrad exined. As such, we are offering good terms to entice new craftsmen. I can waive any registration fee with the cksmith guild, grant you a five-year long tax exemption, and help you secure a workshop for a modest fee.

    Were looking for a house in a strategic location, I said. Either near the docks or city-center.

    I can provide you with a two-floor house unupied along the waterway, with a workshop on the ground floor and living quarters above. One thousand-square feet. The forgees with a furnace, an anvil, a water trough, and a storage area.

    Marika scowled. Such a property would be quite pricey. How much?

    Thirty silver, Lady Freygrad answered.

    I thought Id misunderstood for a second. You mean thirty-thousand?

    No. Thirty silver.

    Marika choked in astonishment at the shockingly low price. For one-thousand square feet?

    I didnt expect things to be so bad. A house with a workshop of that size should cost a hundred times the selling price. The trip to Archfrost alone cost us more when I factored in the rations and other aodations.

    Many victims of the gue died without a living heir, and it costs us more to maintain the ce than to sell away. Lady Freygrad sighed. Frankly, we need all the skilledborers we can get. Our forgeworks cant keep up with Stonegardes demands for new weapons.

    See? See?! I told Marika with a triumphant smile. You wontck for work here.

    My main expertise is as a weapon exorcist, Marika pointed out. Im good at making new weapons, but better at purifying old ones.

    Oh, then you havee to the right town! Lady Freygrad smiled ear to ear. She must have thought she had stumbled on a jewel. Ourst exorcist perished a few months ago. Our citizens are constantlyining about hauntings.

    Marika bristled, her back tense as a bowstring. What kind?

    Bloody letters appearing on tombstones out of nowhere, respectable citizens running around with swords one instant and forgetting everything the next Lady Freygrads smile strained a bit. Nothing a trained weapon exorcist cant handle. The town will pay generously for the service.

    Marika and I exchanged a nce. Her intense stare told me she no longer had any doubts, but something else weighed on her mind.

    I have need of meeting the count, Soraseo said with impatience. Can I have an audience with him?

    As I expected, Lady Freygrad denied the request. You will have to wait, she warned us. Count Brynslow is terribly ill and not in the position to wee visitors. His heir and granddaughter, Lady ire, is doing the best she can to manage the city in his absence, but she is terribly young and overworked.

    But I must pass through Stonegarde! Such was Soraseos anger that she started cursing in her native Shinkokan; or at least, I assumed that was the case from her tone. I must go to the Deadgate!

    The Deadgate? Lady Freygrad looked at Soraseo as if she were insane. Lady Soraseo, thats madness. The border is closed and the guards wont let you through.

    Soraseos hand clenched around her pommel. Then I will fight my way through.

    Easy now, I tried to calm her down. Lady Freygrad has nothing to do with this

    To her credit, the guild officer reacted to Soraseos anger with calm aplomb. Stonegarde is the only pass through the Whitethroat Mountains and over a thousand soldiers guard the fortress, Lady Freygrad warned us. Unless you can dig through miles of stone and ice or fight them all off on your own, you will have to wait for the Count to recover or Duke Sigismund to open the border. Which, considering the current troubles, is unlikely to happen anytime soon.

    Id heard the same thing from the sailors. The citys ruler, Count Brynslow, was dying from an illness. His superior, Duke Sigismund, was preupied with the beastmen skirmishes from the north. The regent, Queen Clemence, gave free reign to her favorites to mismanage the countrys affairs. The Duchy of Walbourg remained in open rebellion and beastmen were growing more aggressive. Crown-Prince Rnd seethed at the current situation, but was still months away from reaching the age to rule.

    Archfrost was rotting at the seams, and evil used the opportunity to infiltrate it.

    Soraseo grunted in anger, but did not unsheath her sword. I took the opportunity to reassure her. Well find a way, I said. Patience. You can count on us.

    Soraseo looked away and sulked. She kept her hand on her pommel though. I had the distinct feeling she had grown used to cutting through her problems, and that she struggled to take the wiser path.

    Now that I knew a brawl wouldnt start, I seized the opportunity to fish for information.

    I should also mention that I represent thete Thief-Taker of Ermeline, Lord Sforza, I lied through my teeth. Ermeline established a fluvial connection with this fair city, but Lord Sforza and the Dukes death threw our operations into shambles. I was sent to check on the next shipment and smooth over the transition.

    Ah yes, Ive heard of the troubles in Ermeline. Lady Freygrad nodded to herself. From herck of surprise, she must have expected a representative from the Rivend Federation to approach her. I was told to send anyone from there to the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>.

    I raised an eyebrow. The <em>Gilded Wolf</em>?

    Its the biggest establishment in Snowdrifts slums. A tavern, inn, brothel, and gambling den all rolled into one package. Most crates sent to Ermeline were sent by the owner, Fenrivos. She snickered. Or Lord Fenrivos, as he likes being called.

    I pounced on the opportunity. From your reaction, I assume you dont like him much?

    My job isnt to like our merchants, but to help them, Lady Freygrad replied shrewdly. Since she avoided answering my question, I guessed that this Fenrivos was drawn from the same cloth as Sforza. Now, let me show you the property.

    She guided us to a two-story house nestled between the citys docks and forgeworks. The structure loomed high with its sturdy timber frame and stone walls. The windows paint had peeled away, and while the workshop on the ground floor could be put to work immediately, the living quarterscked beds and other amenities. I would have to purchase a few things to make it feel halfway like a home, or watch Marika work her magic.

    Still, thirty silver for a property of that size was a steal.

    If you need anything to settle in quicker, do not hesitate to call upon me, Lady Freygrad said when I exchanged my hard-earned coins for the keys. I will see what I can do to arrange an audience with the count once he recovers enough, Lady Soraseo.

    Soraseo scoffed gruffly. She clearly didnt expect anything from the guild officer. Lady Freygrad took it in stride, excused herself with a warm smile, and then left us on the threshold of our new property. I watched her leave with a heart full of hope. There was a lot of work to do in Snowdrift, and many opportunities to seize if I yed my cards right.

    Well, theres enough space for your horse downstairs, I told Soraseo. Youre wee to stay with us as long as you need.

    She didnt answer me. In fact, none of mypanions said a word. Soraseo listened to the wind with a sharp gaze. Marika bit her own lip in uneasiness, with her son fidgeting as his eyes darted left to right. It reminded me of a rabbit sensing a wolf lurking nearby.

    I squinted at them. Whats bothering you?

    Robin. Marikas jaw clenched so tightly I worried she might break a tooth. Theres something wrong with this town.

    Besides a demons presence? I mused out loud.

    Unfortunately, yes, she replied, much to my surprise. Youre not trained enough in witchcrafting to notice, but the air is suffused with corrupted essence.

    I feel it too, Soraseo said with a deep scowl. The wind is heavy with evil.

    Marika crossed her arms, her expression darkening. If we do nothing, I fear this town will soon be destroyed.

    A chill went down my spine. Exin yourself.

    When dangerous essencespain, despair, cruelty, and worsegather in great quantities in a single ce, they eventually coalesce into a terrible curse. Marika marked a short pause, as if the very word was a curse. A Blight.

    Now <em>that </em>was cause for rm. Blights were monster dens. The Rivend Federation paid a fortune to brave adventurers willing to destroy them. I thought they only formed in the wilderness?

    Because cities pay witchcrafters and essence exorcists to nip them in the bud, Marika exined. A Blight is a wound upon thend, Robin; a curse of such proportions that it warps the physical world. You need terrible deeds to birth one. Either a great tragedy or the weight of human sufferingpounding over time.

    And Snowdrift is clearly descending down the second path, I said. A worrying picture formed in my mind as I connected disparate odds. How fortuitous that the citysst exorcist dies when a demon is visiting.

    Marika bit her lower lip in worry. You think the two events are connected?

    If the Demon Ancestors have truly returned, we cant exclude anything. The Devil of Greed could turn men into monsters. Cursing a city would be the next logical step. Can you exorcise the city?

    She shook her head, much to my horror. I can stall the Blights formation, but at this point it would be like giving a soothing balm to a burn victim. It will alleviate the pain, but the wound goes too deep.

    What would cure the city, then? I asked. Snowdrift was my hometown. There was no way I would let it die without a fight. Would killing the demon work?

    Soraseo put a hand on her swords pommel. We must find the evil and destroy it.

    Destroying the demon might help the way killing a poisoner will prevent them from fouling a well, Marika conceded. But a Blight is like a toxic bog. It forms when essence pollution umtes. The surest way to clean it is to have a stream of pure essence wash it away.

    I immediately caught on. Happy, healthy cities didnt generate corrupted essences. Snowdrift suffered from a spiritual sickness. Unemployment, unhappiness, poverty, and despair All these ills allowed an infection to fester.

    I grabbed a coin from my purse and raised it towards the sky. The metal reflected the sunlight upon the somber city. I tried to remember Snowdrift as it used to be in my childhood, before banishing that phantasm from my mind.

    I didnt want to help my hometown regain its lost glory out of nostalgia. I wanted it to be <em>better</em>. To be reborn painted with gold and drowned in opportunities. It was an ambitious goal fraught with risks, but one worth pursuing.

    Can I count on you both? I asked my fellow heroes.

    I don''t want to expose Beni to danger, Marika admitted, a hand on her sons head. But this town needs us. Thousands of lives are at risk.

    Soraseo too gave me her word, albeit with less resolve. I have said my word. I do not give any demon permission to live.

    Thene with me, I said imperiously. If she was willing to help deal with the demon, then I would fulfill her wish in return. Ill earn us an audience with the count to settle the demon problem. You can plead your own case then.

    If this city was like a diseased body, then I would have to start curing the head. It would make the treatment easier to ept.

    I have no understanding, Soraseo replied with a frown. Lady Freygrad said we could not get an audience.

    The guards will let us through once I tell them I can cure their employer. Id spent a lot of time cozying up to nobles. I knew how they worked. Hell owe us a favor then. Getting him to write a letter to Stonegarde should be trivial.

    Cure him? Marika put a hand on her waist. And how do you intend to do that?

    Easy. I flipped my coin in the air. Im going to buy his disease, and sell it back for a profit.

    Eris had been right.

    There were more ways to help others than by just killing evildoers after all.

 Chapter Four: Of Trade and Alchemists

    Chapter Four: Of Trade and Alchemists

    Snowdrifts ck Keep lived up to its name.

    Overseeing the city from atop its tallest hill like a crow in its nest, the castle had been built as a secondary fortress to Stonegarde; if thetter fell before a beastman invasion from the north, reinforcements could gather in Snowdrift to intercept the enemy before it threatened Archfrosts hearnd. Few could stand in front of its thick, massive curtain wall without feeling a little overwhelmed. Winged horsesthe famed Archfrostian pegasicarried knight patrols above the fortifications. Five watchtowers oversaw a courtyard filled with wooden barracks, stables, and ss gardens.

    I paid the most attention to thetter. Cages of ss and steel protected a wealth of nts from the weather and frost alike. Such constructions weremon in the Rivend Federations pleasure mansions, but it surprised me to see one in a military-minded fortress like this one.

    My charm had earned Soraseo and I an audience inside the castles core, a colossal drum tower protected by formidable battlements. We had been asked to wait at the so-called Lady ires pleasure in a small room on the third floor. My fellow hero sat on a ckwood chair tucked in a corner of the room, her fingers digging into the armrests. The two guards overseeing us had confiscated our weapons, and Soraseo clearly missed her sword. Its absence bothered her the same way an amputee missed their severed arm.

    Rather than counting the time, I preferred to observe. A sturdy oaken table and its chairs upied the center of the room, alongside a desk filled to the brim with scrolls, quills, and ink. A tapestry representing the emblem of House Brynslowthe same winged horses as those flying in and out of the courtyardwas the only touch of mor in this dreary chamber. The ce alone told me much: this was a room for scribes, not for nobles. Either Lady ire believed in humble work, or more likely she didnt consider us worthy of a more public audience.

    We have had to wait for hours, Soraseoined in annoyance. It is disrespectful.

    It is, I agreed. Its how nobles here show power over their lessers; by making them wait.

    It is a poor idea. Soraseo frowned in disdain. No one has won a battle by beingte.

    Is it different in Shinkoku? I asked, curious. I heard many tales about the distant country, but half of them sounded a bit too oundish to be true. Doesnt your nobility enjoy wasting time?

    To lose time is to lose life, Soraseo replied. Lateness is weakness.

    No wonder they proved so difficult to defeat in thest war. If only this countrys rulers could show the same diligence

    Our long agony of a wait came to an end when the wooden doors opened. Soraseo bolted out of her seat while I straightened up.

    Two noblewomen walked into the room, alongside a small armed escort. Though both appeared around my age, the two couldnt be any more different from the other. The first was a lean, athletic ball of stress radiating more tension than an overworked ve. Her hair was a ck mane barely tamed into a thick braid falling over her left shoulder. Her pale gray eyes were as cold as the winter sky. She was beautiful in a wild sort of way, but her eyebrows were curved up in frustration. She wore chainmail, and a bastard sword hung from her belt. She was no delicate flower.

    The other was moredylike and regal, though smaller, slimmer, and less impressive. Her most striking features were her long silver hair and lc eyes, telltale signs of the Everbright Empires nobility. Her facial features were soft, with a small chin, a pointed nose, and an air of mature seriousness. A red ribbon tied her hair and meshed well with her red wool mantle and mittens. Whereas her armedpanion appeared almost angered to see us, she greeted us with a smile.

    The ck-haired woman fit the description of Lady ire Brynslow, the counts granddaughter and heir apparent. The other woman was probably herdy-in-waiting. Imperial nobles often sent their sons and daughters to be fostered abroad, both to cultivate alliances and protect them from their bloody brand of politics back home.

    Sit, Lady ire ordered with a tone that brook no dissent.

    No thanks, I answered.

    I could already tell how this meeting would go from the utterck of courtesy. No wee, no greetings, no politeness. Just <em>sit</em>, as if we were wasting her time already. tteries and kind words would lead us nowhere, so I dispensed with them.

    Then you can walk back to the door, Lady ire said with a terse tone. You would do well not to waste my time.

    Her sheer nerve caused Soraseo to re at her. I have spent two hours waiting, she said with impatience. I will not leave without having my letter.

    You will leave with nothing if you keep speaking to me with that tone, ire replied, unimpressed.

    ire, where are your manners? herdy-in-waiting chided her with a melodious imperial ent. She immediately offered us a short bow. Our apologies, dear guests, the morning has been rough.

    <em>I could tell,</em> I thought. Lady ire radiated such fury, and her hand brushed against her swords pommel so often, that I wondered if she had murdered someone on her way here. <em>I better skip straight to business.</em>

    Itll take only five minutes Lady ire, if you dont waste them, I replied as politely as I could manage. Well be on our way afterward.

    Five minutes? Lady ire crossed her arms. The look in her eye told me how little she expected from them. Im counting, stranger.

    I can cure the count of the disease that affects him, I said with confidence. For a trifling price.

    Ive heard that before. Lady ires lips strained into a sneer. What will it be this time? A miracle elixir that will cure death for five thousand gold coins? A miracle spell? Come on, make meugh.

    From her tone, she had seen her fair share of chatans and false hopes. The fact she still gave us the time of a day meant she hadnt entirely given up hope though. Can your grandfather answer yes or no, Lady ire? I asked. Or at least write it down?

    She squinted at me. Why?

    Because if he cant, then I cant grant his wish.

    Oh, another false Priest. Lady ire snorted. Will you petition the Artifacts to save my grandfather? So far, they havent listened.

    What my dear friend means is that we already have a hero tending to Lord Brynslow, herdy-in-waiting said. With little results.

    I blinked in surprise, as did Soraseo. <em>Another </em>hero was in Snowdrift? Damn it, had our entire generation gathered in the city?

    Therese! Lady ire scolded herpanion. Dont share that information with strangers!

    Herpanion shrugged and held her ground. We should. It would reduce the number of time-wasters, dont you think?

    I assume they must be a vassal ss, I guessed. A few could potentially help with a disease, whereas great sses like the Mage or the Priest probably would have cured it by now. I can do better.

    Lady ire scoffed disdainfully. Your time is up, she said. Back up your word with action or get out of my castle.

    I removed my glove and unveiled my mark.

    Lady ires eyes widened slightly, while herpanion covered her mouth with a hand. The guards exchanged looks in silence. I didnt like to reveal my true identity, but if another hero had indeed told Lady ire they couldnt help her grandfather, then nothing else would convince her.

    Thats the Merchants mark, Lady Therese said.

    Prove it, Lady ire ordered immediately. Prove us its the real one.

    I pointed at her chainmail armor. Sell me your armor for a copper coin.

    Deal, she answered without hesitation.

    Her chainmail instantly teleported off her chest, revealing a blue tunic underneath, and reappeared on mine. The armor was a bit too tight for me, but Marika could loosen it. Lady ire and her fellow noble stared in shock at the copper coin that materialized in the formers hand.

    You speak the truth To her credit, Lady ire immediately bowed before me in penance, as did herdy-in-waiting. I apologize for my disrespect, Lord Merchant. Your vassal just informed us he couldnt cure my grandfathers disease, and it it ate at me.

    I would never bear a grudge against such a beautiful steel flower, I replied with a wide smirk. To my amusement, Lady ire returned it. I would appreciate it if you didnt share the news of my presence within the city. I prefer discretion to fame.

    Lady ire nodded and turned to her guards. If word of the Merchants presence in the city gets out, youre all going to the dungeon.

    Yes, mydy, one of her guards answered immediately. From his fearful tone, his mistress was likely to follow through with her threat. Your secret is safe with us, Lord

    Robin, though you can spare me the lord, I replied before waving a hand at my fellow hero. This is mypanion, Soraseo.

    Soraseo removed her helmet, revealing her own mark; perhaps for the sake of honesty or solidarity.

    The Monk too? Lady ires anger left way to embarrassment, and she swiftly shook our hands. I am ire Brynslow, heir and acting regent to my grandfather Count Brynslow. Thedy next to me is my dear friend, Therese Dluz.

    I froze. Dluz?!

    Even Soraseo recognized the name. House Dluz is the imperial family.

    My elder sister Isabel is the current Everbright Empress, Therese replied with a blush. Fret not over it, lord heroes; I am far, <em>far </em>down in the line of session.

    Still I crossed my arms, unable to hide my astonishment. I didnt expect to see an imperial princess in Snowdrift.

    I have been fostered here since childhood. Therese chuckled lightly. But we can discuss thatter, Lord Robin. I believe you came here to heal the count, not for my sake.

    How do you intend to do that? Lady ire asked. Her eyes betrayed both her hopes and fears. If you had been the Priest I would have rejoiced, but what can the Merchant and the Monk do?

    Thatll depend on his current state, I replied warily. My power did require consent. Can you lead us to him?

    Lady ire immediately nodded and invited us to follow her. Guards escorted our group through the cold, gloomy halls of the ck Keep. I pondered the other heros identity and immediately came to the obvious answer. The Merchant had two vassals. Since Marika was still at our forge, this could only leave one other option.

    The Alchemist.

    Lady ire led us into an opulent sr on the third floor. Count Brynslows apartments were oddly modest in terms of decoration, thoughrge enough to house a hearth, a desk, a ckwood dinner table, and leaded ss windows giving an incredible view of the city outside. Tapestries picturing tumultuous events from Archfrosts historythe War for the Winter Crown, the Death of Koshro the Conqueror, the Fall of Xernobog, and the Siege of Stonegardeadorned the walls alongside the mounted heads of various monsters: a horse-like nightmare, a wyvern, and even the skull of a young stusk which beastmen chieftains rode in battle. Soraseo observed the collection with great interest, and a hint of respect.

    I paid more attention to the lord of Snowdrift and his attendants. Count Brynslow agonized alone in a king-sized bed, with two apothecaries force-feeding him medicine. The man was gaunt, terribly gaunt; his wrinkled skin hardly hid the bones underneath. His thick mustache and cropped hair had turned white as milk, like his eyes. The white, however, frightened me less than the ck spots staining his cheeks, throat, and chest. I recognized these symptoms all too well.

    The two apothecaries tended to the count, with each of them on opposing sides of the bed. One was a middle-aged woman with a gentle smile and a peaceful presence. Her blonde hair, swept into a loose bun, was streaked with white threads, while her vibrant green eyes showed shades of gray at the edges. Her practical woolen blue apron, cinched at the waist by a leather belt adorned with satchels of concoctions, smelled of herbs. Her wrinkled hands held onto the counts own, as if to soothe him in his final moments.

    The other was a specter of death, a gue doctor wrapped in a purple, hooded cloak and a green leather uniform protecting every inch of his body from the outside world. Sturdy gloves reached all the way to his elbows, so clean they glistened in the light. His utility belt included a dozen pouches, pockets, and sks to transport medicine, alongside an array of scalpels and a small notebook. However, it was his mask that haunted my nightmares. That crow-like beak and yellow contraption, those ss eyes devoid of warmth surrounded with heartless steel I hade to associate this mask with death. Unlike his gentler colleague, that doctor offered no words offort; they filled a syringe with liquid and all but stabbed the counts arm, targeting one of the ck swollen areas.

    But this person felt familiar, and not only because Id seen his kind at my parents deathbed. I recognized the unique silver symbol scratched on his masks forehead: a sk bound inside a snake eating its own tail and marked with the Erebian number for sixteen.

    The masked mans head snapped in our direction. I couldnt see anything past the ss goggles, though the voice that came out of the beak was undoubtedly male. Ah, fellow colleagues, the gue doctor said with an odd air of joviality. Wee, wee. I would appreciate your help in treating our patient.

    Colleagues? the woman apothecary examined us with a warm, curious gaze. You do not look like apothecaries.

    They arent. Lady ire nced at her grandfather with worry. The old man wheezed so loudly that I wondered if any air made it to his lungs. Is he improving?

    Hes stable, the gue doctor dered. I can weaken the symptoms enough to try experimental treatments.

    The cures you suggest are more likely to kill him than the disease, Colmar, his colleague replied with a frown of disapproval. Your purgeleaf serum will dehydrate him to death.

    If nothing is done, Florence, he will die anyway, the gue doctor, Colmar, pointed out. Lady ire scowled at his remark. Purgeleaf will reduce the blood swelling and maximize the effectiveness of healing concoctions. Your balms do little other than lull him to sleep.

    His fellow apothecary sighed. She didnt appear too optimistic about their prospects. At this point, soothing his pain is the best we can do.

    Those are the words of a defeatist. Colmar removed his syringe from the counts arm. The nearest ck spots diminished in size, though not by much. So long as the patient breathes, the battle is not done.

    Well said, I replied. The count looked half-dead, but it was the other half that counted.

    Lady ire nodded in agreement before making presentations. Lord Robin, Lady Soraseo, let me introduce you to my grandfather, Count Bjornimir Brynslow. Florence is a traveling apothecary from the Arcadian Freeholds, who has tended to the counts ills many times in the past. The man is Colmar, the new Alchemist.

    A pleasure to meet you, Florence greeted us warmly. s, unless you are heroes, Im afraid you arrived toote for the count.

    They are heroes, Colmar replied offhandedly, much to his colleagues shock. What kind though, I cannot tell.

    Florence observed Soraseo and I with a mix of wariness and surprise. I red at Colmar for his indiscretion. I would appreciate it if you kept that information to yourself, I said. Im not interested in advertising.

    Why? The doctor looked at me in confusion. How would people who need our help know to ask for it otherwise?

    Our enemies will also have the knowledge of our location, Soraseo pointed out.

    I would rather take the risk if it means saving more lives. Colmar pointed at the count. Like him. If your powers can help this man, I would appreciate that you use them.

    Cant yours make a difference? I asked.

    Unfortunately not, Colmar replied with annoyance. Not in his current state at least.

    That didnt bode well. I grabbed a chair and sat at the counts bedside. The old man had enough strength left to turn his head in my direction with a wheezing sound. His eyes struggled to look at me.

    I felt a pang ofpassion for him. I had seen my father in a simr state once, a prisoner of his own soon-to-be corpse. My parents were long dead, but I could still save this man. Can you say yes or no, Count Brynslow?

    He answered with a drop of saliva drooling from his lips. I took that as a no.

    The count suffers from facial paralysis, Florence exined with sorrow. We had to force-feed him potions.

    Damn it. Thatplicated things greatly. What can you tell me about the symptoms? I asked the apothecaries. The more details you give me, the better.

    The Purple gue is magical in nature, Colmar said. Where most diseases are content to infect the flesh, this one contaminates the victims essence. It is intelligent. It can lie in wait, dy its own symptoms, and then wake up when its most convenient. The gue keeps the victim alive just long enough to corrupt the lungs into producing the purple miasma that spreads it.

    Thanks to our treatment, the disease has entered its slumbering, non-contagious state, Florence exined. But the damage is done. The disease is now deeply rooted in his organs. The counts blood swells in ces, causing extensive paralysis, constant fatigue, and severe dehydration.

    So, to cure the count, I needed to do more than buy the disease; I also needed to buy the symptoms mentioned. It would require a written contract to detail everything and all the aforementioned troubles would transfer to me. I was in better shape than this old man, but it would take weeks for me to recover even with medical care. If only there was a way to transfer the gue and symptoms out of the counts body without transferring them to another human being.

    I nced at the sks around Colmars belt. It would be so much easier if I could simply transfer the disease in liquid form and seal it in ss. Unlikely. gues and paralysis were intangible curses, not a poison to extract.

    Unless an idea crossed my mind. I had sessfully traded away physical goods and intangible assets, but never both at once.

    I cant buy fractions of it, I muttered out loud. But can I buy a package?

    What is your meaning, Robin? Soraseo asked in confusion.

    I have a n. I locked eyes with the count. Can you move an arm?

    Thankfully, the old man was lucid enough to understand me. He struggled to raise his right hand. Excellent, I said. Lady ire, I will need a quill and a scroll.

    For what purpose? Lady Therese asked with curiosity. Lady ire, in her case, immediately fetched the goods from her grandsires desk without question.

    Were going to settle this as adults, I said as I began to write down words on the scroll. With a contract.

    I had no idea whether my idea would work or not. If my power refused to validate the deal, I would have to buy the disease the old-fashioned way. If it did back the sale though then my options considerably broadened in scope.

    Count Brynslow, here is my generous offer. I put a copper coin on the mansp and then read him the contract. You agree to sell me back your Purple gue and its symptoms, including the body paralysis, fatigue, and the blood clots damaging your vitals, alongside the copper coin I just gave you; all for a lock of my precious, <em>precious </em>hair. All your goods, intangible and physical, will form an inseparable package deal.

    ire squinted at me in confusion. A package deal?

    Ah, youre the Merchant! Colmar scratched his mask as if it were an actual beak. Fascinating.

    The Merchant? Florence scowled at me with concern. Wait Lord Robin, if you can indeed buy the counts illness, then you will suffer from it. Are you certain you wish to try it?

    Has cowardice ever changed the world? I put my quill into the counts hand. Ill take the risk and bear the consequences.

    My boldness and confidence did not reassure Florence, but they convinced the count. After a few seconds of loud wheezing and breathing, he managed to raise the quill. His fingers trembled as he signed my contract document.

    My mark glowed beneath my glove, and a copper coin materialized in my palm. A lock of my hair vanished from my skull and reappeared atop the counts balding head; a single streak of red in a sea of white.

    I couldnt suppress a smirk of victory as everyone around me gasped in surprise. The count returned to life before their eyes. The ck patches on his skin shrank to nothingness, returning his skin to a white wrinkledndscape; his mouth gasped for air, his lungs cleared; his paralyzed face regained its lost vigor.

    It worked! I gloated right before waves of tiredness hit me. It work ed

    My world was suddenly thrown off bnce. My vision blurred at the edges, my heart slowed down to a crawl, and a sudden sense of numbness washed over my limbs. I tried to rise to my feet, only for my legs to turn heavier than stone. I copsed in silent panic, unable to even call for help.

    Robin! Soraseo jumped to my side in a blinding dash of speed and caught me before I hit the floor. Her strong hands managed to lift me up; mine were so weak that the coin slipped out of my fingers.

    My strength returned the moment the copper ceased to touch my skin. The curse that had taken hold of me was suddenly lifted. Colmar greedily grabbed the copper coin, studied it in silence and then swiftly applied it to Florences cheek.

    Ah! the woman recoiled in surprise, a ck spot appearing on her skin. It immediately vanished when Colmar removed the coin, though it did little to alleviate her anger. Colmar, how dare you?!

    Fascinating, deeply fascinating! Colmars voice shrieked with excitement. He didnt even bother to answer his colleagues indignation. It appears whoever touches this coin unprotected manifests the counts disease and symptoms, but only so long as they remain in physical contact! Truly fascinating!

    Do you want to buy it? I asked him after Soraseo helped me sit up again. Itll cost you a gold coin.

    Lady Therese chuckled in amusement. Who would buy a cursed copper coin for a golden one, Lord Robin?

    Any man of science worth their salt! I replied with enthusiasm. I had rehearsed that pitch in my mind while drafting the contract. Imagine what you could do with it! You could study the diseases progress in a safe, controlled environment, allowing you to test out cures and potions! How can one call themself an apothecary and not buy this coin? Its worth a hundred gold, not one!

    Indeed! Colmar grabbed a golden coin from one of his pouches and shoved it into my hand. Ill take it!

    And a friend swore I couldnt profit from selling a disease, I mused in triumph. Poor Marika, her debt to me had grown by ten coppers. Robin Waybright always wins his bets.

    Lady ire paid us no mind. She immediately moved to her grandfathers side, holding his hand and watching him breathe with concern. My lord? she asked with deference. Her eyes brightened with hope. Do you feel better?

    Better? Count Brynslows voice was little more than a mutter, but at least he could speak. Oh, my dear ire Ive woken up from a month-long nightmare.

    Your recovery is astonishing, my old friend, Florence said before checking the counts body temperature. But you are not out of the woods yet. Youre underfed, dehydrated, and in dire need of rest.

    At least I can feel my legs again The count turned his hollow gaze on me. His eyes had regained most of their lucidity. You have my thanks, Lord Merchant. To think I would live long enough to be rescued by one of the seven heroes I should consider myself blessed.

    Im d my power could save your life, Count Brynslow, I said sincerely. The Purple gue had reaped too great of a toll already. But I am the Merchant, not the Priest. My friend and I came to you with a purpose in mind.

    Ah, of course The count managed to rise up enough to rest his back against a pillow. He observed Soraseo and I, his sharp gaze betraying his experience as a politician. What assistance can I provide, oh heroes?

    I turned to Soraseo, silently inviting her to make her case. She respectfully bowed before the count before asking for her boon. I have need of going to the Deadgate, she dered. Her demand drew a frown from the count and whispers from everyone else. I ask that you help me walk through Stonegarde.

    I see The count nodded slightly. Most would have advised Soraseo to change her mind, but he did not question her choice. Perhaps he believed she could survive the journey, or that it wasnt his ce to question a hero. I will send an official request to Lord Sigismund for a letter of passage. Return to me in a few days I should have it then.

    Soraseo smiled, her gaze alight with hope. You have my gratitude, Lord Brynslow.

    I wish you luck on your quest wherever it leads you. The count turned his attention to me next. What of you, Lord Merchant? What boon will you request from me?

    A big one. Ill go straight to the point, Count Brynslow.

    I sat in front of him, joined my hands together, and locked eyes with him.

    Sell me Snowdrift, I said.

    A heavy silence followed. Lady ire looked fit to gag, while Lady Thereses eyes widened in shock. The count, more experienced, kept hisposure. Why? he asked me. Why Snowdrift?

    Have you looked out of your windowtely? I shrugged. That city is so deep under, its slowly transforming into a Blight as we speak.

    We know that, Lady ire replied with a hint of anger. Do you imagine we stood idle while our home deteriorated? Were doing our best to turn things around.

    Your best isnt enough, I replied, my tone harsher than I intended. To see my hometown reduced to such a state filled me with anger. Im sorry to say this, but Snowdrift needs bolder leadership if it is to thrive.

    Lady ires jaw clenched. You believe you could do better?

    Yes, I replied with confidence. While Lady ire struggled to keep a straight face, her grandfather listened to my words without a sound. Count Brynslow, I am willing to pay you a fair price for Snowdrift. I can bargain for more than gold.

    I must refuse. The old noble straightened up in his bed. This city is my granddaughter''s birthright. I shall not sell it to another even a hero.

    I expected as much. I never intended to buy the city outrightthe count would have to be mad or truly desperate to agreebut by immediately starting with an audacious proposal, I could negotiate down to apromise that would favor me. Besides, opening with a strong price attested to the strength of my resolve.

    Then lend it to me, I haggled. Give me one year, and you wont recognize the ce.

    A year I wonder if I will live long enough to see that. The count let out a long, tired sigh, his chest barely rising. I know I do not have much time left in this world. You bought me a few years at most. Where the gue failed, age will seed.

    I can sell you years of life, I replied, trying to test his defenses. If you want time, I have some in reserve.

    The Counts old lips strained into a thin smile. Your ent youre from Snowdrift, arent you?

    I am, I confirmed. I love this city. My parents rest in it now. I want to see it prosper and thrive.

    So do I and so does my ire. Count Brynslow studied my face carefully, as if trying to determine how far I would go. Lord Merchant if I assent to your wish would you swear to assist my granddaughter in these difficult times? To take care of her when Im gone?

    I would kiss her, bed her, and marry her if that was what it took. I swear it.

    My words reassured the old man. He turned his head toward his granddaughter. ire?

    Lady ire held onto his hand. Yes, my lord?

    You took the reins of this castle as an emergency measure I failed to prepare you for it it must have been stressful yet in spite of the difficulties, you did your duty admirably. Count Brynslow smiled warmly, though he was missing a few teeth. I I am proud of you. You honor your mothers spirit.

    I Lady ire cleared her throat. She appeared unused to praise. Thank you, my lord.

    Count Brynslow patted her on the palm before answering my demands. Lord Merchant I will not sell my granddaughters birthright, but I offer apromise I shall name you Lord Protector of Snowdrift and Counsel to my Heiress with emergency power.

    I crossed my arms. I had never heard of a Lord Protector. I would act as your daughters prime minister and chancellor? Is that what you say?

    In a way you will both speak with my name so long as you work toward saving Snowdrift.

    I didnt hesitate for long. That oue wasnt the bestI would rather have full powers with little to no ountabilitybut it opened me many doors nheless; if Lady ire proved reasonable. I ept.

    Good Count Brynslow closed his eyes. We will draft a proper decree after I sleep a bit.

    Youve heard him, Florence said while immediately mixing her herb satchels. Out with you. He needs rest.

    I will keep an eye on your grandfather for you, Lady Therese promised ire. Im sure Lord Robin and you will have much to discuss.

    Seems so. Lady ire appraised us heroes with cautious optimism. Come with me.

    We left the count to his apothecary and Lady Thereses tender care, though Colmar decided to leave with us. He seemed to trust his colleague to handle their patient on her own.

    You can remove your mask, you know? I told him on our way out. We arent contagious.

    Im afraid I cant do that, Colmar replied. I suffer from a condition that makes exposure to unfiltered air dangerous to my health.

    I could buy it, I pointed out.

    Ill politely decline. Colmar shook his head. This is nomon disease but a lifelong condition Ive suffered from since birth. It is part of me. Removing it might have unforeseen side effects.

    Better the devil you know than the devil you dont? I mused. Considering his evasive answer, I guessed he had his reasons. Well, if you change your mind, my offer will remain open.

    Thank you. Colmar nodded politely, his silver mark glowing on his mask. Now that I thought of it, it was quite strange that it manifested there rather than the skin below Speaking of purchases, I would love to see if our abilities can synergize. Im sure the goddess designed vassal sses toplement their superior.

    Ive reached the same conclusion. And I suspected the Artisan and the Alchemist also shared some form of chemistry. What can you do?

    I can transmute one matter into another on touch. Colmar raised his infected coin and bathed it in light. The copper brightened and shrank to a third of its previous size, but it also turned to gold. Lead to gold, wood to stone I havent yet explored all my options.

    Why has the coin lost its growth? Soraseo asked with a frown. Gained smallness? Which is correct?

    It has shrunk, I replied. From our previous experiments with Marikas power, I ventured a guess. His power doesnt change the objects mass.

    Excellent guess, Sir Robin. Colmar put the coin back in his pouch. Gold is thrice denser than copper, so the coin became smaller in turn. Turning a wooden beam to iron also caused a roof to copse on my head from the shift in weight distribution.

    I could already see the synergy between his ability and Marikas. When were done here, youreing straight with me, I said with enthusiasm. Were going to push our powers to the limits of science!

    Colmar proved even more enthusiastic than even I. I daresay we can push them back even further!

    We were going to get along <em>swimmingly</em>.

    Lady ire led us back into the waiting room and invited us to sit around the table. The guards closed the doors behind us, letting the countess-in-waiting alone with us heroes.

    Lord Robin. Her eyes set on the chainmail on my chest. I would like to have my armor back, if you please.

    No, sorry. I gave her a contrite, insincere smile. I follow a strict no take backs policy.

    Lady ire red at me. A copper coin cant buy chainmail.

    Can it buy back hours? Soraseo asked. Though the counts promises put her in a good mood, she still held a grudge. Two for me, two for my friend.

    ire blushed at Soraseos answer. I brought this on myself, didnt I?

    Yes, ire I stopped myself. Since were going to work together closely from now on, can I call you ire? All thisdy and lordly nonsense is wearing on my nerves.

    Careful with that sharp tongue of yours, <em>Robin</em>. ire returned my smirk; she did have a yful side after all. You strike me as too bold by half.

    No one honors the timid. I hung back into my chair. It was surprisinglyfortable, even in the absence of pillows. If we are to work together, you will have to get used to taking risks.

    At this point, I am willing to consider <em>all </em>options. ire sighed. But unless Lord Colmar is willing to turn this city to gold, I fail to see what else can be done.

    Colmar immediately crossed his arms, his back tense as a bowstring. I have vowed to heal the sick, not fill a citys coffers.

    Thetter will help you achieve the former, I pointed out. More coins mean better hospitals and healthcare.

    Better hospitals also meant that sick people woulde to the city to receive treatment, and then spend their hard-earned coin in Snowdrift. With my power, I could buy diseases and seal them into items to guarantee the treatments sess. Everybody would win.

    Though I agree it would be a bad idea, I said. Creating gold from nothing would only devalue it. Snowdrift needs better legs to stand on. Infrastructures, trade, people

    We arecking in all of them, ire confessed. My grandfather managed to keep the treasury afloat and avoid debt, but thats the best thing I can say about our finances.

    Thats already more than I expected, I said with optimism. Could you provide me with ledgers and reports about the citys situation? Fiscal reports, a census, anything would help. I would also need authority over the citys trade guilds and its garrison.

    As Lord Protector, you carry as much authority as my grandfather. The citys institutions will answer to you. ire frowned. Why would you need the garrison? Do you need to arrest someone?

    Mayhaps. I turned to face Soraseo. Can I count on your assistance too?

    You have fulfilled your part of the bargain, and I shall do the same, Soraseo replied. You will have my help to hunt the demon.

    Her words startled ire. The demon?

    We suspect a demons presence in the city, I exined. It might be linked to the Blight and the death of your exorcists.

    That would exin a few things. Colmar scratched his beak. I autopsied thetest exorcist. He supposedly slipped and drowned into the river due to being drunk, but I couldnt find any trace of alcohol in his veins. I found that a bit suspicious.

    So its true the Demon Ancestors have indeed returned. ires eyes faltered a bit, before widening back with new understanding. Snowdrift is Stonegardes rear and its main weapon supplier! If it falls to a Blight, then our northern defenses will suffer.

    I had suspected as much. The beastmen in the north descended from the Demon Ancestors defeated armies, or so the scriptures proimed. It made sense for mankinds enemies to coordinate. From what I understand, destroying the demon wont prevent Snowdrift from transforming into a Blight, I said. The city must regain its footing before it can purge the corruption from itself.

    I suppose you have a n in mind? ire joined her hands. Where should we start?

    At longst, I could put my grand strategy in motion. Have you ever heard of banks, ire?

    You want us to loan money?

    Not just money. I smirked. <em>Skills</em>.

 Chapter Five: Skill Loans

    Chapter Five: Skill Loans

    Go fetch me your criminals, and your elderly.

    Such was my first decree as Lord Protector of Snowdrift and Counsel to the countess-to-be. Any bank worth their salt required an initial investment, and thankfully Snowdrift housed quite arge poption of retired workers or infirm individuals with skills to share. They would serve as our initial pool of talent.

    After sending Soraseo and Colmar away, Therese, ire, and I spent the day reviewing our candidates in the waiting room. Therese immediately found issues with my powers, however. If you sell knowledge, you can no longer remember it yourself?

    Thats right, I confirmed. I have to learn it again by other means. Its why Ill have to be careful about the skills I loan to others.

    Even if you purchase knowledge you already possess? Therese crossed her arms. What happens if you store information in an item, but learn it another way? Would you retain the information once you lose the object?

    Good point, I said. Best check that out first. Do you two know how to y Shield-Sword-Scroll?

    Of course I do, ire answered with a grin only to blink in shock when herdy friend coughed in embarrassment. Youve never yed Shield-Sword-Scroll, Therese?

    While I assume it is a game, no, I have yet to hear of it.

    Perfect. I grabbed a copper coin. I will sell you this coin and knowledge of how to y Shield-Sword-Scroll as a package deal in exchange for a single smile.

    Very well, Therese replied with a warm grin. Much like my previous experiments on the ship to Snowdrift, I lost my knowledge of how to y Shield-Sword-Scroll when I sold Therese the coin.

    Oh, this game sounds amusing! Therese said, having gained the knowledge required to y the second she touched the coin.

    It is, I replied with a grin. Or it will be, once you remind me how to y it.

    Therese proceeded to exin the rules; I always selected Shield-Sword-Scroll because it was very simple to grasp quickly. We yed five games, which she all won; much to her amusement. Do we keep going? she asked me.

    Not with me. I took the coin from her hand. Can you y games with ire?

    I expected Therese to answer no. Instead, she smiled with excitement. How about three out of five, my dear ire?

    ires eyes burned with apetitive spirit. Game on.

    I watched on as they yed round after round of Shield-Sword-Scroll. ire did not need to exin the rules to Therese; she simply knew how to y.

    How? I asked when ire concluded the final round with a victory. How can you keep the knowledge without the coin?

    I do not remember how I first learned to y the game, Robin, Therese replied with a chuckle. But I remember teaching you the rules and besting you.

    My heartbeat quickened with excitement. Weve found a loophole! I rejoiced. The items wielder loses the knowledge once they no longer touch the object

    But since they keep their memories of <em>applying </em>that knowledge, they can learn through osmosis, experience, and muscle memory, ire guessed with a grin on her face. This will let us loan skills around and elerate training!

    I immediately proceeded with another test: I asked for a piece of bread, got it, then sealed my Shield-Sword-Scroll expertise within it. Then I broke the bread into two pieces and tossed one half of it on the table.

    Care for a game? ire offered while tightening her fist.

    I stared at her hand for a few seconds before realizing I had no idea how the game should be yed. I grabbed the other half of the bread and then remembered. Since its a package, the item needs to be whole, Iined. I cant sell fractions of knowledge, so tearing the object to pieces wastes it all unless I can recover them all.

    And what happens if you eat bread salted with game rules, Robin? ire teased me. Will you digest the knowledge too?

    She meant it as a joke, but I took it as a <em>challenge</em>. I swallowed the bread whole. I still remember how to y Shield-Sword-Scroll, I said. But well hold off on games untilter, to see if I retain the knowledge after a day has passed.

    What should we seal the skills into? Therese asked. We need something that can be both easily repaired, can be identified at a nce, and is difficult to steal.

    Clothes, ire immediately suggested. Garish, colorful clothes that stand out.

    Then we can set up a color system to determine which clothing grants which skills, I added. As they say, the clothes make the man.

    Let me take care of the wardrobe. Therese pped her hands with a delightful smile. The citizens of Snowdrift will never have been better dressed!

    We set up an organized procedure to deal with our pool of retirees. Each of these people was asked to sign a confidentiality contract, to prevent them from sharing information about my ss and power, then offered a trade: their hard-earned skills against mary or socialpensation.

    Our first candidate was a retired cksmith, an old man with a graying beard, rotten teeth, and hands devastated by arthritis. He kept a sliver of the muscles that served him so well in his forge, but time and lifes ordeals had taken their toll on him.

    <em>Old age is a shipwreck</em>, I thought grimly. Mister Bjorn, are you certain about this payment?

    Yes. The old man frowned in sorrow. Is it too much to ask for, mlord?

    No, I I gulped. Conducting this transaction was far harder than I expected. But I do you understand what were asking of you? You will lose thirty years of hard-won experience. A lifetime of skills.

    Aye, mlord, I understand, the cksmith replied wearily before raising his calloused hands. But what good is experience when you cant make use of it?

    But all youre asking for is that youre fed, clothed, and housed until the rest of your days, ire pointed out with a saddened scowl. She felt as uneasy as I did. Dont you want gold, or a new house?

    I had both once, dy. And children and grandchildren too. The smith sighed. What the gue didnt take from me, age did. Ive got nobody to take care of poor little ol me. The priests kept me from starving, but I cant rely on their kindness forever, you know? At least I would have earned my retirement.

    Men asked for little when they had nothing left. How crushing.

    I I cant sign this deal, I informed ire. He deserves more than kitchen scraps.

    I will house him in the castle, she replied kindly. Considering how much his skills will benefit themunity, he deserves it.

    Perhaps we could open a retirement home of some kind? Therese suggested. Since he and the next candidates will provide for Snowdrift, the city should provide for them in return. Its only natural.

    I suppose we could fund it, I agreed before locking eyes with Bjorn. I will ask again. Are you certain of your choice? Youll be taken care of, I swear on the goddess name, but you can still ask for more.

    Mlord is kind, but my minds made up. The cksmith nodded. Ill take the deal.

    A lifetime of work was traded away for a few years offort. The rest of the procession proved just as heart-wrenching to deal with.

    A weaver who had lost both eyes to diseases asked for her sight back; and when that couldnt be arranged, due tock of prospective sellers, she asked for the same deal as the cksmith before her. She got that and the promise I would give her back her vision the moment I could find a potential eye-donor.

    A crippled soldier offered to sell a lifetime of skill in battle for an expensive witchcrafter-made prosthesis so he could walk again. He walked away with a promissory note from the state and a purse. Though he appeared happy with the trade, I couldnt shake the feeling we had shortchanged him nheless.

    An old farmer asked for ten gold coins; he offered not only his skills, but his farm too. Bandits had killed hisst heir and he couldnt find a buyer. We let him keep thend and promised we would soon send workers to make it flourish anew.

    These poor people came by the dozens, all of them willing to sell away decades of toil and hard work for little more than food and pocket change. While I tried to offer what I thought they deserved, most were simply so beaten down that they had lost what little aspirations they had. The situation in Snowdrift was so desperate that surviving had be an end in itself.

    Its like this every day, ire informed me when we reached the sessions end. Every day.

    It only hardened my resolve to improve this city. People shouldnt sell their lifes work for pocket change.

    I tried to tell myself this would pay off in the end. We ended up with three cksmith brigandines, three mason mantles, three physician pelerines, two carpenter hauberks, two weaver waistcoats, three farmer frocks, two steward tunics, and two shipwright doublets. I bought skills,bined them, and packaged them.

    After purchasing abilities from the honest people of the city, we moved on to more unsavory lots.

    The ck Keeps jails currently hold seven prisoners, Therese exined to me. Three of them are scheduled for execution.

    Are we certain theymitted the crimes they stand used of? I asked. It would annoy me to shake down innocents.

    The evidence is overwhelming, ire replied firmly. I personally oversaw their cases.

    After a day of work, I realized the two women made quite the pair. Behind her finery, Therese Dluz was a capable administrator; it was she who gathered all the documents I required, assembled the ledgers in an easily readable manner, and quickly answered inquiries I might have on financial matters. ire, meanwhile, preferred fieldwork; she spent her mornings patrolling the demesne with the knights, checking up on the garrison, and heard petitions in person. A velvet glove and an iron hand.

    Why do you stay in Snowdrift rather than return to the Everbright Empire, Therese? I asked the imperial princess while we waited for the guards to bring us the prisoners. I believe your sister keeps imperial nobility in check quite well.

    True, but I wasnt sent to Archfrost simply to ensure my safety, Therese replied. I am expected to wed a local noble to improve ties between our countries.

    I envy the groom then. Therese would have been my type. I hope he understands the honor granted to him to marry such a beautiful flower as yourself. If he does not, I would dly duel him for your favor.

    Therese answered with an enigmatic, amused smile. You mighte to rue these words, Robin.

    I should cut off your scious tongue. ire snorted. I thought you were audacious, but now I realize you are merely shameless.

    Is it not my duty as your Counsel to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth? I shrugged. Who is first in line, Therese?

    Bishop Sigiv Hranslow, condemned for sphemy. He was caught repeatedly haranguing the peasantry with pro-Reformist sermons.

    I had heard of them. Reformists were a grassroots movement that argued that worship of the goddess and the four artifacts should be a private affair, and that the Arcane Abbey shouldnt y politics. Moreover, Reformists believed that all creatures in the world, even hated beastmen, were children of the goddess, and that heroes shouldnt be worshiped as they remained fallible humans. I agreed with most of their points, to be honest.

    Unfortunately for Reformists, the Arcane Abbey was a powerful institution in Archfrost: the first king long ago had been a Priest, in both senses of the word. The Abbey supported the monarchys legitimacy, and in turn Archfrost protected the institution. It didnt help that the rebel duchy of Walbourg was a Reformist hotbed; being one in Archfrost was tantamount to defying royal authority.

    The Arcane Abbey called for public humiliation at the stocks, Therese read the file, followed by monastic seclusion until he repents.

    I dont think speaking ones mind warrants life imprisonment. I studied our prisoner as he was brought before us in irons. He was quite the gaunt fellow, though he carried himself with an air of quiet dignity. Do you regret your words, Sigiv?

    No, the man replied bluntly. The Abbey spends more time administering its wealth than sharing it with those who need it. And while I respect your authority, Lady Brynslow, I do not think your grandfather should have any influence in spiritual matters.

    I see, ire replied diplomatically. I will keep that in mind.

    Since a bishop should know how to read and write, I suggest wemute his sentence tomunity service, I proposed. He could work in the new bank as a clerk, and I would remove his ability to speak about the Reformation so long as he remains in our employ.

    I doubt he will ept any deal that requires him to remain silent, Therese said with a chuckle. Will you ept this plea bargain, Sigiv?

    The bishop shook his head. I would rather suffer on the pillory and retire in quiet meditation. The Abbey can imprison my body, but not my mind. History will attest to the righteousness of our cause.

    At least he stayed true to his beliefs. I admired his resolve. Very well, I said. A bit disappointing, but I wish you luck nheless.

    The next name on the list was a poacher called Freydis, a muscled woman in her thirties with messy blonde hair and a sharp gaze. ires gaze softened when we received her.

    Mdy, Freydis said with a respectful bow.

    You know each other? I asked ire.

    Freydis used to work for my lord grandfather, she replied with a sigh. But she turned to poaching after he dismissed her.

    Mdy knows I had no other choice. To her credit, Freydis owned up to her crime. I have three mouths to feed at home.

    ires expression harshened. So do all the families who rely on legal hunting to subsist. Animals are getting scarcer in the forest, and your activities endangered their dwindling poption.

    Animals were fleeing the area? I guessed they could sense the forming Blight. I read that the punishment for poaching is the loss of your right hand, so you can never use a bow again, I said. How would you rate your skills as a huntress and archer?

    Im the best, mlord, Freydis replied with a scowl. I plead mlord not to take my hand. I will have no honest means of supporting my children without it.

    I wouldnt call poaching an honest living, but I hear your words. I joined my hands. Heres my offer: we can use some rare magic to take away your skills as a hunter.

    Freydis frowned in confusion. My my skills?

    You will no longer know how to use a bow or catch animals, so you wont be able tomit the same crime again, I exined. In exchange, I will allow you to keep your hand and see that you are rehabilitated. We have no need for hunters, but were going to hire dockworkers, guards, peasant workers the city will see to your training.

    A wise decision, Therese agreed with a nod. If your intentions are genuine, Lady Freydis, you will have the opportunity to feed your family within the bounds of thew.

    Though she appeared doubtful about my power, Freydis did consider the offer. My skills The possibility of selling away a lifetime of expertise unsettled her. Ill lose them forever?

    You can still relearn them the old-fashioned way, I replied. When it failed to reassure her, I tried to sweeten the deal. We will allow you to buy them back once you pay your debts to society.

    Freydis hesitated for a few minutes, until a look at her hand convinced her. She could always learn to wield a bow again with training; whereas one couldnt regrow lost flesh so easily. Ill take the deal, mlord.

    Excellent. I grabbed a scroll and detailed the contract. Considering the scale of our operation, we decided it was for the best to keep written records of all transactions. Just write down I consent.

    My magic triggered as soon as Freydis followed through; in exchange for the right to keep her hand, I bought all her huntress skills and most importantly, her silence on my power. I immediately felt a wealth of information surge into my mind; knowledge of how to wield a bow and other hunting weapons, how to track and kill game, how to dig pits and set traps, how to tell a wolfs footprint from a dogs, how to find food and water in the wild, how to hide and avoid wardens, and much, <em>much </em>more. Though I did let Freydis keep her understanding of how to butcher and harvest animal parts so she could still provide some economic utility to themunity. I had removed the talents required tomit crimes, but leftw-abiding means of subsistence and the possibility of regaining her lost abilities after a few years ofmunity service. After a moment of confusion over her sudden memory loss, Freydis thanked us for the pardon.

    The next two cases went swimmingly too. First came Odinika, a talented artist and scribe who ended up using her talents to forge documents and swindle tradesmen; and Master Gildegarde, a formerly respected member of the Trade Guild, who used his position to falsify his ounts and sell counterfeit goods.

    Besides the associated fines, the penalty for forging royal documents is public branding followed by ten years in the mines, ire recounted. For fraud, the punishment is public flogging followed by seven years of toil.

    I could argue against the mine work, Therese said. No one would benefit from it.

    Whys that? I asked. Snowdrift gathered most of its iron from nearby mines under its control.

    The imperial princess provided quite the interesting reason. We need to employ a guard per two prisoners to prevent escape, not to mention the cost of food and lodging, which eats at profit margins. I suggest putting them to work elsewhere.

    Our guards would be more useful catching free criminals than overseeing those we already caught, ire conceded. But unlike Freydis, these two acted out of greed rather than necessity. I wouldnt trust them.

    Agreed, theyre not employee material. I mulled over the sentences beforeing up with a more interesting alternative. How about buying their years alongside their skills?

    You mean the years they would have spent in the mines? Therese put a finger on her cheek. It would both punish them and remove the necessity for prison, true.

    ire frowned at me. Would that age them or revert them to children, Robin?

    I dont know, Ive never tried. I shrugged. Which is another reason why we should check.

    We immediately tested my proposal on Odinika; in exchange for a pardon, the forger agreed to surrender ten years of her lifespan, her forgery skills, and her ability to lie so she wouldnt be a repeat offender. The former scribe, a mousy woman in her twenties, agreed to the trade with augh. I would have thought a forger would know better.

    The effects were quite spectacr: Odinika aged a few years in the span of seconds. Her hair gained streaks of gray, her hands wrinkled, her face grew more tired, and her extensive knowledge of how to forge legal documents flowed into me. I didnt undergo puberty again, however.

    Thats unexpected, I muttered while Odinika paled upon realizing what she had just agreed to. ire, would you kindly purchase two years of life from me?

    Ill give you a silver coin in exchange, ire replied wisely. Her new chainmailcked the formers polish. Ive learned my lesson.

    My power validated the trade, and I felt an intangible weight removed from my shoulder, but neither of us physically changed. However, I did feel <em>poorer</em>. I couldnt quite exin it in words. As if an invisible hoard I carried in my soul had suddenly grown lighter.

    Why hasnt he aged? Odinikained after suffering from buyers remorse. Thats unjust!

    Because I still have eight extra years in store, I guessed.

    It doesnt exin why neither of us are getting any younger, ire replied.

    Therese came up with an interesting solution. Robin did not purchase youth, he purchased more time.

    I nodded in agreement. As they said, there was no way to recover lost time. Im not getting back the years I already spent; Im just postponing ages next payment by eight years.

    Come to think of it, I once purchased Eris eye color, but regained my old ones when I traded the goods back to her. The trade overwrote my bodys features without erasing them either. Maybe my power worked like a bank ount. I could store extra intangible assets without manifesting them directly in the physical world.

    Im a bit jealous now, Therese teased ire. By the time I be thirty-one years old, you will still look twenty-nine.

    I would rather trade these extra years to my grandfather, ire replied with a frown. He needs them more than I do.

    I doubted the count would get to enjoy those extra years without a vitality and youth package; dying aging did nothing to heal wounds or undo the toll time already wrecked on the body. Besides, I needed to consider the ethics of time sales. I was fine exacting the toll from criminals as an alternative to punishment, but it might encourage unsavory practices.

    We sent Odinika on her way and offered the same deal to Gildegarde; he walked out a free man short of seven years and unable to lie, and I greatly sharpened my knowledge of finances and Archfrosts legal system.

    However, we were done with the minor crimes. The other prisoners had all been condemned for heinous offenses. The next criminals on the list were a couple of grave-robbers and sphemers; for while most Archfrostians preferred cremation, the Arcane Abbey buried its clergy when they perished. The duo, which included a professional gravedigger and a greedy priestess, opened forbidden tombs, stripped the bodies inside of their valuables, and then sold the corpses to a disreputable witchcrafter. Obviously, the Arcane Abbey called for their death for the sacrilege. I was tempted to follow through. These two hadnt just robbed the deadsomething doubly loathsome since most graves belonged to gue victimsbut also vited the sanctity of their position.

    Gravedigger, priestess, I can spare you from death, but you will have to spend your life atoning for your crimes, I said upon reaching a decision. If you subject yourself to experiments.

    Experiments? the gravedigger choked. You want us to be test subjects for witchcrafters?

    Wouldnt that be ironic after they tried to sell corpses to one? I possess a power with many applications, I said. Some might be unsafe to test. If you agree to participate in potentially dangerous experiments, you will be spared the noose.

    Good behavior might eventually earn you a pardon, Therese proposed. After a few years, of course.

    That kind ofmunity service felt slightly more ethical than executing them outright, not to mention more pragmatic; and these two understood what few alternatives they had.

    Ill take the possibility of death over its certainty, the priestess said.

    Her aplice sighed. Me too.

    Perfect. I smiled at them. Well keep in touch.

    Thest criminal was a lithe and handsome man-boy of sixteen who carried himself with aristocratic arrogance even when chained and bound. He reminded me of a peacock strutting into a room. He believed nothing woulde out of this audience.

    My dear ire, I worried you had forgotten me. He coyly smiled at ire, who turned away in disgust. Nowe on, its been so long since Ive seen your fair face. When I was alone in my cell, I dreamed of it each night.

    Seeing yours gives me a skin rash, Hugdan. ire spat at his feet. Since she reacted to that boys teasing with far more vitriol than mine, I assumed he wounded her deeply in the past. I hope you reincarnate as a pig.

    Come now, is that a way to talk to your future husband?

    I chortled. You? I asked in disbelief. No way, shes far too good for you.

    I know, ire replied with a sneer. Grandfather broke off our betrothal after he murdered an innocent man in a brawl.

    A duel, ire, said Ser Too-Proud-by-Half. That man insulted me by calling my father a thief.

    Is it true, ire? I asked.

    The duel?

    No, that his father is a thief?

    Ser Hugdans boyish face red with fury. He actually tried to lunge at me across the table, in vition of allmon sense, before the guards pulled his chains back and reeled him in. Do you know who I am?! the captive knight snarled in anger. And who are you even?! Who gave you the right to address my fianc?!

    She did, I replied as he struggled against his chains. Im not sure you understand the severity of your situation, Ser Hugdan.

    Pff, what could you do to me? Ser Hugdan sneered at me. My father already paid the blood price. I should be free already!

    Ser Hugdans father is anded baron with more familial prestige than personal honor, Therese said. I had to grant it to her, she managed to make even damning insults sound flowery. His men have been used of robbing travelers going through his territory. Though it is true that he offeredpensation to the victims family, Count Brynslow did not feel that was punishment enough. The victim had no experience with weapons and duels to the death are forbidden.

    I dont get it, I admitted. Why would Count Brynslow betroth his granddaughter to a robber barons son?

    You dont know? Ser Hugdan chuckled arrogantly, before adding outrage to his list of crimes. My father was the only one magnanimous enough to look past her origins. Shes a <em>bastard </em>after all. Her noble mother got knocked up by some peasant and then went so mad they had to put her in an asyl

    Enough! ires hand tightened on her swords pommel, though managed to keep enough self-control not to execute the man on the spot. Guards, gag him!

    I watched as our soldiers shoved a piece of cloth down Ser Hugdans throat. If res could kill, ires venomous gaze would have in him on the spot.

    Therese observed her friend with concern. ir

    Lets move on, she cut in, her voice brimming with anger.

    I confirm youre too good for this idiot, I reassured ire, before wisely following through with her advice. What should be his punishment?

    ire scowled deeply, but did not answer. I could see her thoughts written all over her face: although he hadmitted a heinous crime, this man remained a nobles son. Punishing the powerful meant facing consequences.

    But if there was one thing I hated above everything else, it was well-born and wealthy assholes escaping justice. Ser Hugdans smug smirk only hardened my resolve.

    Very well, I said before passing the sentence. Death by hanging it is.

    Ser Hugdans smile faded away. He did still seem capable ofprehending my words though, since he still struggled against the gag.

    So long as I am Lord Protector, no one will be above thew. <em>No one</em>. Youll be treated like everybody else. I smirked at the arrogant loudmouth. His skin paled as the reality of his situation dawned on him. I motioned to the guards to remove the gag, so I could hear him beg. What do you have to say for yourself?

    You Ser Hugdan panicked when the guards grabbed him by the arms. You cant do this to me!

    Are you certain, Robin? ire asked, slightly uneasy with my choice.

    If his father wants toin, he cane to me. I will take full responsibility. That way, ire and her grandfather would be spared any reproach. Though I expected the baron to find his own way to the pillory. Unless you want to offer him a pardon?

    ire quickly realized I was handing her a chance to look merciful. She studied Ser Hugdan for a few seconds before reaching a decision. His victim was thirty years old, she said. I suggest you take thirty years of his life alongside his battle skills, so that he wont be able to murder anyone ever again.

    Therese went the extra mile. I suggest taking away his ability to inflict harm at all, she proposed. He will never raise a weapon ever again.

    More critically, it meant he wouldnt be able to take revenge either. That seems like an eptablepromise, I said before drafting a contract. What do you say, Ser Hugdan? Will you take the deal, or the sword?

    Youre bluffing! the knight snarled. Youre bluffing

    Is that so? I drew my dagger and rose from my seat. Guards, put him on his knees and call a janitor.

    What? Therese gasped in shock as the guards executed the orders. She held onto my sleeve. You cannot execute a man inside the castle!

    Why not? I asked as I applied my dagger to Ser Hugdans throat. His face lost all color and his eyes were wet with fear. Dont worry. The carpet needed cleaning anyway.

    ire looked at me strangely. This is not your first time.

    Ser Hugdans empty courage deserted him when he felt my steel to his skin. I guessed he was only brave when he didnt risk losing. Mercy! he pleaded. Mercy!

    Do you agree to the plea bargain? I prepared to take a swing at his skin nheless. Ill count to five. One, two

    Ser Hugdans eyes darted to my de, and then to the drafted contract. Ill take the deal!

    My magic aged the boy-knight to the middle-ages in the blink of an eye; the effect was far more spectacr than his predecessors. Ser Hugdans smooth youthful skin rippled and wrinkled. His thick chestnut hair thinned and grayed, like frost oveing autumn leaves. His eyes sank deeper into his skull, and his hands grew weathered and calloused. Times weight was truly a tragedy.

    The threads of his purchased skills flowed into me. I shivered in exhration as I gained memories of precise strikes, of a hundred parries, of the measured breath required to stand ones ground, of heightened alertness and slight changes in stances. The ghost of countless drills echoed in my mind. I never understood just how many factors were required to properly win a duel before then. Ser Hugdan had been very talented in spite of his young age. A pity he wasted his skills. I would make better use of them.

    See? I mocked Ser Hugdan. That wasnt too hard.

    His eyes had all the venom of a snakes fangs, but when his mouth opened, no curse came out. ire and I watched on in amusement as Ser Hugdan coughed.

    Oh my, Therese noted with a chuckle. It appears the ability to do harm includes insults.

    The guards quickly took Ser Hugdan away, leaving us alone. I asked for a rapier to test my new skills and received one. I immediately practiced a few steps, waving the thin, slender sword with gracefulness. The de made a gentle sound as it cut through the air. I immediately noticed that my feet didnt move as quickly as my mind wanted. Id purchased Hugdans skills, but neither his muscture nor body shape. It would take a while for the muscle memory to adjust to my own peculiarities.

    Bravo, Robin, bravo. Therese pped at the spectacle. I answered her apuse with a mischievous reverence. You will soon be a dashing duelist.

    Im jealous, ire admitted. It took me years to learn swordsmanship, and seconds for you.

    You should take pride in it, I replied upon sheathing the rapier to my belt. It would make for a fine partner for my dagger. Youve earned your skills, I purchased mine. I cant take credit for this power.

    So you can show some humility sometimes. ire put a hand on her swords pommel. Still, I would like to cross des with you someday. Hudgan was a fool, but a promising duelist.

    The prisoners skills are the citys property, I pointed out. I delivered the sentence in Snowdrifts name, so I shouldnt profit from them. Shouldnt I relinquish them?

    ire shook her head. Keep them for now, Robin. Snowdrift will benefit more from a talented hero.

    Your trust in me warms my heart, I replied politely. Im not certain what to do with the purchased years though. They could fetch a high price, but Im afraid it might encourage unsavory practices.

    ire crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. I need more time to ponder it.

    Well, its gettingte anyway, I said. The sunset would fall within hours. I should go check on the others.

    Ill ride with you back to town, ire said before turning her attention to Therese. Can you see to it that the guards are ready for the night raid?

    Of course, Therese replied kindly. They will ask questions about the target, however.

    They will know once weunch the attack. ire shrugged. The fewer people aware of the truth, the less likely a leak will spring forth.

    Wise words. I wished ire had been in charge of Ermelines watch. The likes of Sforza would never have prospered under her leadership. We bid Therese goodbye and ire led me to the stables.

    Come on, ask away, she said halfway through the courtyard.

    About what? I asked.

    About my bastardry, ire replied with a scowl. Im used to it.

    I shrugged. Honestly, I dont give a crap.

    ire raised an eyebrow in disbelief. You dont?

    You could be a kings bastard or a beggars daughter for all I care, I replied. I judge people on their actions, not their birth. Besides, its not my business to dig up old wounds.

    I appreciate the sentiment. ires scowl morphed into a thin smile. Is that way of thinkingmon in the Rivend Federation?

    The country certainly puts far less importance on birth than Archfrost, I conceded. Its people worship wealth rather than blood and names.

    I am not certain that is a good trade-off. ires smile faded away. I intended to journey there once, and to many other ces.

    What changed?

    She scoffed. Myst half-brother died and my grandfather became short of an heir. I had to put aside my dreams of knighthood for our familys sake.

    I dont see how the two are ipatible, I replied. You can be a knight and a countess. Isnt our prince both the Knight and future king?

    Thats true. I could almost taste the bitterness in ires voice. But Prince Rnd is a man.

    Ah, I saw the problem. As thest heir of the Brynslow family, she was expected to settle down and do her duty to keep the line going; something that didnt enchant her at all. I needed to find a way to lighten her up a bit. It saddened me to see so many angry lines on her fair face rather than a radiant smile.

    The ck Keeps stables amodated many horses, winged or otherwise. The straw-covered floor smelled of hay, leather, and the asional dung pile. Stable boys walked around wooden stalls to feed the animals. ires personal box housed a magnificent white mare with feathered wings rising out of her back. Id never seen a pegasus so closely.

    Robin, let me introduce you to Silverine. ire gently caressed the pegasus mane, who returned the gesture with a nuzzle. Silverine, meet Robin.

    The pegasus observed me with pale blue eyes that betrayed her keen intelligence. Id heard these animals were about as smart as human children, though less than their cruel cousins, the nightmares. I petted it on the head. She looks splendid.

    She is indeed, ire agreed with a hand on the saddle. Come on, climb.

    My heart froze in my chest. Climb?

    Well fly to the docks long before the sun dips beyond the horizon, ire replied. Silverine is a big enough girl to carry two people.

    The pegasus let out a sound which I took for agreement. I I tried to imagine myself climbing onto her back and being carried away up into the air, watching the ground below calling me down, like a gasping pit waiting to swallow me up

    Ill pass, I replied politely, suddenly uneasy.

    Much like a shark on the hunt, ire immediately smelled blood in the water. No way

    I didnt like her gaze<em>. At</em><em>all</em>. It would be safer if I simply picked a second horse

    Oh, Robin, dont tell me youre afraid of heights? ire smirked cruelly. A brave man like you?

    I did the responsible thing in this situation: I <em>lied</em>. I lied through my teeth. Of course Im not afraid! Im just mindful of my safety!

    Silverine observed nkly in silent judgment, and her mistress didnt believe me either. Could the fox be a hen in disguise? ire taunted me, before making childish sounds. Coot, coot, coot!

    Stop that, I said, dead serious. Its not funny.

    We both know it is. ire grew bored of toying with me and went straight for the kill. I bet youre too afraid to take a tour in the sky, Robin.

    When so challenged, my blood boiled in my veins. For prides sake, I couldnt let that slide. But I didnt want to fly either. I remembered a sage piece of advice that saved my life many times in the past: <em>when in doubt, bluff outrageously</em>.

    Alright, you cruel woman, you want me to fly? Ill fly with you. I pointed a finger at her and went straight for the throat. But once we reach the ground, Ill cut your braid!

    ires eyes widened in shock. My braid?

    Your braid! I pointed at this beautiful, thick snake of hair hanging over her shoulder. Ill cut it and keep it for myself, as a trophy!

    Y-youre mad! When ire grew redder than a Fire Ind tomato, I knew I had found her weakness. Id seen her y with her hair when she felt nervous. Theres no way I will agree to such scandalous nonsense!

    <em>Exactly</em>, I thought. Are you afraid of losing, or of being shaved?

    Mind your tongue, before I cut off your balls. ire drew her sword and pointed her de at the weapon between my legs. Good luck finding a man willing to sell you a new set.

    Well, if youre so afraid I grinned in triumph as I delivered the coup de grce. You can always ask Therese to pay the price for you. I prefer silver over ck anyway!

    ire saw red. Her de came within an inch of my throat, to the point I could feel the steel brushing against my skin. You She ground her teeth in rage, unable to form a coherent answer. You vile little

    <em>I win</em>, I thought. <em>Shell fold, and Ill take the road. The </em>earthbound <em>road.</em>

    My happiness must have shown in my eyes, for ire swiftly lost what remained of herposure. Fine!

    My smirk faded away. Fine?

    Ill surrender my braid to you on four conditions! She raised four fingers. You mustnt fall. You mustnt scream. You mustnt cry. And most importantly

    ire grabbed me by the cor and pulled me towards her. I could feel her warm breath on my neck.

    You cant beg me to end it at any point, she whispered into my ear. Ill listen, but youll lose. Youll <em>lose</em>.

    Crap, she wont back down! If I win, everyone will know! I warned her with false bravado. I will parade my trophy to everyone, your near-baldness proof of your humiliating defeat!

    That remains to be seen. ire released me and then jumped on her mares back. Are you going to climb on your own, or do I have to drag you?

    I knew she was ying me. I knew it. If I climbed on that damned horse, I would have to face a moment of pure and absolute terror. But Robin Waybright had never backed down from a bet.

    Swallowing my fear, I sat behind ire. The saddle was absolutely ufortable and unfamiliar; tight ropes bound our belts to it so we wouldnt fall off mid-flight. I felt like a virgin entering a bed for the first time. This could either go well, or absolutely terribly.

    By the end, Robin, youll be crying, ire taunted me. I swear it to the goddess. Youll be crying like a child.

    What followed was thirty minutes of absolute torture.

    My heart pounded like a war drum from start to finish. The moment Silverines wings unfurled and let her leap into the sky after we left the stables, I knew I would rue my ill-chosen words for the end of my days. I hoisted myself to ire, holding onto her tightly. It would have been a pleasant experience, if it hadnt been mind-blowingly terrifying!

    I watched the ground recede beneath us and an all-epassing blurry void swallowed my vision. I desperately clung to ire and snapped my eyes shut in fear. Sheughed, the witch. Sheughed all the way through as we soared through the clouds, the cold wind battering my naked face.

    A Waybright was not so easily broken. I bit my tongue not to scream, fought off the nausea, and managed to open my eyes without crying for a floor under my feet. ire decided to test my resolve by having Silverine fly up and down, up and down! We could have reached the docks in ten minutes, but she gave me a tour of the city when I proved to be too strong-willed. The steady rhythm of Silverines wings became a maddening symphony. We rushed above empty cobblestone streets and wooden roofs alike, defied the breeze and flew above the farnds.

    How do you like your first flight?! ire peeked over her shoulder, her eyes searching for a tear. Its to cry for, isnt it?!

    You will pay for this I swore under my breath. You will pay for this

    She had Silverine fly upward with such strength it almost destroyed my stomach. I struggled not to vomit. I also forgot how to y Shield-Sword-Scroll somewhere along the way. As I feared, sealing skills into food was a waste. The consumer retained the knowledge only so long as their intestines allowed them to hold it; which in my case proved to be a short while. I might need to change my pants after this.

    Thankfully, ire eventually grew bored of our little escapade. She had Silverinend on the docks, near the house I now shared with Marika; a good and honest woman, who would never have put me through such an odious experience! How relieved I was to see her and Soraseo waiting near the door with Beni and Colmar. The Alchemist was entertaining the child with his power, transforming his wooden toy pegasus to gold and then into a dozen other materials.

    Silverinended on the pavement with a thundering crash that nearly threw me off the saddle; I immediately jumped to the ground anyway, kissing it, loving it, promising I would never leave it again, and that I would never cheat on it with the treacherous sky.

    Robin? Marika rushed to my side, her hands grabbing my shoulders in worry. Robin, are you alright?

    How good her calloused fingers felt on my feeble body almost as good as the feeling of the ground beneath my feet

    I cant believe it. ire appeared almost impressed with my performance. You won.

    I will take my prize I covered my mouth and struggled with my nausea. Oh goddess, I needed to throw up. I wasnt in good enough shape to stand straight, let alone wield a de. Another time

    Marika smiled kindly at me, and Colmar gave me a sweet potion to prevent my stomach from pouring out of my mouth. Beni, however, stared at the pegasus with fascination.

    Do you want a ride? ire offered Beni. The boy smiled ear to ear and looked to his mother for approval.

    No, Beni, no I pleaded with the poor child, who had no idea what awaited him. Dont let that wicked creature deceive you the void will take your soul

    Silverine squinted at me as if I were a pitiful worm. Like mount, like rider. Thankfully, Marika proved sensible enough to refuse. Another time, sweetie, she said, much to her sons disappointment. Lady ire, I presume?

    You must be Marika, the Artisan? ire climbed down from her pegasus and shook Marikas hand. A pleasure to wee you to Snowdrift. Have you finished overseeing the city?

    Ive scoured the city for sources of corruption and approached the tavern Lady Freygrad mentioned, the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>. Marika scowled. Besides being a pit of foul essence, I sensed the demons presence within it.

    ire scowled. This strengthens my resolve. We shall raid the ce at night, arrest everyone suspicious, and collect all evidence we can find.

    ire didnt look too happy about it for some reason though. I guessed she expected casualties with a demon involved.

    You shall have my strength, Soraseo promised. Unlike ire, she didnt bother hiding her enthusiasm. The heartbeat quickens.

    I will treat the wounded, but I will not do well in a fight, Colmar said. The Alchemist was clearly more interested in studying our powers than going out fighting evil. How was your day, Robin?

    The skill harvest was bountiful, I replied. The nausea was gone, thank the goddess. How was yours?

    Fruitful, in a way. Colmar pointed at a warehouse next to my new home. We stockpiled the goods here.

    Couldnt you suggest another ce? Marika frowned in disgust. I can smell the stench from here.

    Its only temporary, I replied as I moved to inspect the warehouse myself. As Marika warned, I smelled the contents before I could actually see it: an intense mix of rotting food, animal waste, and other things best left unmentioned. Very temporary.

    A city asrge as Snowdrift produced arge quantity of eclectic waste: dead animals, kitchen scraps, broken potteries, g from forges, rags, debris, andst but not least, huge piles of human filth. A few were recycledashes could help make soap and mortar, animal excrements were used as fertilizerbut most were gathered by street cleaners or dumped in the river nearby. One of my first orders as Lord Protector had been to order all the days wastes gathered in one ce. A true hill of filth upied the warehouse and reached all the way to the ceiling.

    I understand the need to make Snowdrift a cleaner ce, ire said while pinching her nose. But shouldnt we dispose of this filth outside the citys limits? It will attract rats.

    This warehouse is as close to the shipyard and forges as possible, I replied. One of the four pirs of my n to renovate Snowdrift includes building infrastructure, such as roads, ships, and houses.

    I cant build a house with shit, Robin, Marika said bluntly.

    I know. I turned to Colmar, smirked, and unveiled my n. Colmar?

    The masked alchemist cracked his fingers. His knucklebones made a strange sound, almost metallic in tone. He had guessed my n. Yes?

    Can you turn this pile of shit I waved my hand at the hill of trash before us. Into a pile of treasure?

    Colmar found the warehouse full of excrement.

    He left it paved in marble.

 Chapter Six: Interlude: The Artisan

    Chapter Six: Interlude: The Artisan<ul><li><em>Six months ago, in the vige of Sleepy Hollow.</em></li></ul>

    The mes danced in the forge to the tune of her thundering hammer.

    Shadows screeched when she hit their prison. Arcane symbols etched on the steel shields surface glowed with each blow. Simmering fumes of corrupted essence coiled in the air, carried by the surging heat.

    Almost done, Ka! Will roared as he stoked the heart of the forge with coal. The mes brilliance reflected in his pale blue eyes. Keep going!

    Marika grunted. Shadows surged out of the shield whenever her hammer struck it, the evil infesting the metal fighting back with all its might. Her muscles strained from the repeated blows. As for the runestone used to capture the corrupted essence, it had almost turned cker than a moonless night. She knew they should have purchased another before epting thismission.

    Can you take over the metalwork, Will? she asked her husband with sweat falling off her brow. Ill focus on the witchcrafting from now on.

    Yes, of course. Her husband grabbed a pair of pincers with one hand and a hammer with the other. He held the shield in ce while beating down the steel with the other. Benicio, bring your mother some fresh water.

    Yes, Dad. Marikas son emerged from a corner with a cup full of liquid. He had been holding on to it for half an hour, waiting and praying for his parents to call upon him. Here it is, Mom.

    Thank you, Beni. Marika set her hammer aside, grabbed the cup, and drank to her hearts content. Such was the heat in the forge that the water did little to refresh her tongue. She was used to working long hours, but right now, she wanted nothing more than toplete this job and take a bath.

    Do you want me to help with the witchcrafting, Mom? Beni asked with sparkling, hopeful eyes. You look so exhausted.

    Are you calling mezy, Beni? Marika teased her son with a smirk. Fine.

    Youre sure? Will asked in surprise, and a slight bit of concern.

    He has trained well, Marika replied with a chuckle. Besides, she had already exorcised most of the dangerous essence. Beni would be safe.

    Truly? Beni held his breath, his happiness in on his face. The sight filled Marikas heart with warmth greater than the forges heat. Her son had been dying to practice weapon exorcism since his mother showed him the forge.

    But you must do exactly as I say. Marika set her cup aside. If you disobey, you will be grounded for a week.

    Beni bowed faithfully. I will not disappoint you, Mother.

    She knew he wouldnt. Marika was proud of her son. He was so dutiful, so wise for his years, that she considered herself blessed. Focus with me on the flow of essence, she said. Once I separate the corruption from the healthy steel, guide the former toward the whetstone.

    Mother and son raised their hands above the shield, while Will kept hammering it. Witchcrafting, the process of manipting essence, usually followed three steps: separation, transportation, and finally, infusion.

    The first step was the most difficult, so Marika managed it on her own. Activating her special sight, she pierced the veil of the physical world to see the hidden truths unfurl. The shield before her no longer appeared to her as a rectangr sheet of steelced with gold, but as a gleaming sea of silvery metal essence marred by ck spots of darkness. The malice of dead monsters whose ws and fangs had crashed against the pavise took root in it like an infection. Though the corruption stood out from the metal, the two had intermingled for so long that they had be one and the same.

    Her husbands hammers blows caused the essence to ripple and weakened the shadows hold. Waving her hands to guide the flow of essence, Marika excised thest seeds of ckness. She heard hisses and growls of dead monsters echo in the back of her mind. Like ticks anchoring themselves into a host, the stains fought back against Marikas attempt to excise them. They failed nheless.

    Then came the second part of witchcrafting: transportation. Unleashed essence always sought to merge back with solid matter. Without guidance, it would anchor itself to the closest vessel. The corruption attempted totch onto Marikas hands, to possess her.

    Beni immediately acted. Months after months of practice paid off as he expertly guided the stained essence away from his mother. Marika could only smile with pride; she had half-expected to need to intervene, but her son seemed more than capable of handling the corruption on his own.

    Thest step, infusion, was the easiest. Essence naturally sought to anchor itself to matter, so the corruption easily glided into the nearby runic whetstone. Infusing disparate essences into a coherent whole usually demanded great skill, but exorcists runestones were specifically prepared to absorb and contain evil power. Thest specks of ckness were sealed at longst.

    Ive done it! Beni boasted with pride. Ive done it!

    Good job, Beni, Marika patted her son on the hair. Now its your fathers turn to work his magic.

    Wills chuckle rang louder than the ng of his hammer. His powerful strokes finished bending the shield back into its proper shape. Not a single scar marred its smooth surface.

    Done, he said before tossing away the pincers and grabbing the shield in their stead. How do I look?

    Knightly, Marika teased him. With a shield and hammer in hands, and his muscles rippling beneath his overalls, her husband truly appeared like a warrior of legends. His blonde hair and beard were already showing some gray, but it only added to his charm in his wifes mind. Would you like to squire for your father, Beni?

    Nah, Beni replied with a frown. I want to learn magic!

    Rejected by my own son. Willughed heartily. And hes already twice the wizard I am.

    Dont sell yourself short, Will. Marika kissed her husband on his sweaty cheek. Youre a magician where it counts.

    To manipte essence, a human needed to undergo the Awakening Ritual; a costly process only truly avable to the wealthy or Witchcrafting Guilds. Marika had been lucky enough to be taken by thetter as an apprentice in her youth, but Will never had that chance. A decade of assisting his wife with her exorcism work gave him slight sensitivity to essence. Little else.

    None had been more surprised than Marika when Benicio showed witchcrafting aptitude in his early childhood. She knew having a witchcrafter parent increased chances for a child to awaken naturally, but the odds were extremely slim. She often wondered if Will had a mage or two in his ancestry.

    In any case, Im happy this is over, Marika said while examining the shield. I hate family heirlooms. They always carry so much baggage.

    At least this shield saw use, Will mused while putting it aside. From what Ser Hugo told me, it first tasted battle at the Sea of mes seventy years ago.

    I can believe it, Marika replied. Most of the corruptive essence came from monsters, but she had sensed human malice here and there. Beni, would you kindly go to the inn and inform Ser Hugo that his shield is ready?

    Yes, Mother. Beni nodded dutifully and then bolted out of the workshop.

    What a little spitfire, Will said. Marika shivered upon sensing her husbands hand moving to her waist and pulling her into his embrace. You were amazing, Ka.

    Youre not too bad yourself, Marika replied with a chuckle as he kissed her on the cheek. I daresay youve be the best cksmith in the Rivend.

    Second-best, her husband pointed out charmingly. You outshine me as the sunpares to the stars.

    Good answer. She briefly kissed him on the lips. They tasted of salt with all the sweat on them. Want to take a bath with me? Im exhausted.

    I knew you had an ulterior motive for sending Beni away, Will teased her. Ill heat up the water immediately.

    Good, good. Marikas smirk faded away when her son returned to the forge with a serious look on his face. What is it, Beni? Have you forgotten something?

    Beni shook his head. There is a strange mister waiting outside. A customer.

    A customer? At this hour? The faint light through the forges only window indicated the sunset was upon them. Will and Marika exchanged a nce before following Beni outside.

    A stranger waited for them on the houses threshold next to arge wooden chest.

    Marika had never seen a man so tall as this one. The stranger pushed nearly eight feet, forcing him to bend his neck to prevent his head from hitting the ceiling. Even Will, who was already a head taller than his wife, looked like a child inparison. The strangers lean,nky body reminded Marika of a scarecrow. From his elegant purple wool jacket, beige pants, rounded hat, and fine leather boots, he was probably a well-off denizen from Tradewind. A few of them often made the trip to Sleepy Hollow for specialmissions.

    Fancy meeting you here, fes, the stranger said with a cheerful, jovial voice. His smile was almost infectious, though something about his golden, mischievous eyes left Marika uneasy. That shade was quite rare in the Rivend Federation. How was the battle?

    Marika frowned in confusion. The battle?

    I could hear the thundering ng of shing shields and weapons from here! The gentleman chuckled. The two of you look like great warriors back from a victorious campaign!

    You could say that, Will replied warmly. He was the one used to handling customers; Marika herself preferred to work rather than chat. We cksmiths shed metal rather than blood though.

    And Im sure the world would be a better ce if warriors did the same! The strangerughed warmly. The best battles are those waged on boards and theater scenes, wouldnt you agree?

    Sure, Will replied with a grin. Might I ask your name?

    Oh, forgive my impertinence, I forgot to introduce myself. The man raised his hat slightly. My name is Jean Chastel. I am a humble merchant and servant to a fairdy of the realm. My employer heard tales that you were the finest weapon exorcists in our dear Federation.

    Quite the tterer, arent you? Marika snorted, though the mans oundish behavior did amuse her a bit. Have youe for amission?

    Straight to business? Fine, fine, I appreciate your bluntness. The man sat next to his wooden chest. Mydy would like to hire you to exorcise and repair an inheritance.

    Curses swirled out of the chest the moment Chastel opened the lid.

    Marika recoiled in surprise. A cloud of thick essence miasma erupted into the room, thicker than smoke and fouler than rotten flesh. She choked on a sinister stench of burning wood, on the taste of blood on her tongue. Benicio, who possessed the same essence sensitivity as his mother but little of her fortitude, turned pale and still. Marika instinctively put a hand on his chest and pulled him behind her.

    Will frowned as he gazed into the chest. What is this? he wondered. I can sense<em> I </em>can sense it.

    Terrifying, is it not? Chastel mused. He alone appeared unaffected. We call it the Chained de.

    Marika dared to peek into the chest. A two-hand ymore of ck, stainless metaly within. The de was long enough to cut a horse in half, yet slim as a paper sheet. The cross-shaped hilt included dagger-like edges on the side, sinuous arcane symbols representing swirling mes, and an empty hole that probably used to house a jewel of some kind. Steel chainsced with runestones tightly bound the sword and they coiled around the de and kept the evil within tightly shut.

    Marika immediately recognized this contraption. When weapon exorcists failed to purge corrupted essence from a vessel, the next best thing was simply making sure it couldnt spill out. Binding chains and seals could make a cursed weapon rtively harmless. These were the mostplex she had seen in her career.

    And they still failed topletely seal the corrupted essence.

    The chains are made of runesteel. Will marveled as he examined the swords de. It was dented in some parts and weathered by time, but still in a surprisingly good shape for a weapon so terrible. The sword is made of soulforged adamantine too Incredible

    Soulforged adamantine? Marika could hardly believe her own husband. Thats impossible. There isnt enough of it in the world to make a dagger, let alone a sword.

    There isnt now, Chastel said with a chuckle. This weapon goes back to the Age of Wonders.

    The one that came before the Age of Sorrow. The forgotten time when ancient civilizations ruled Pangeal. Only ruins buried deep beneath the earth after the Demon Ancestorsid waste to them remained. This weapon was over seven hundred years old.

    Its warm, Mother, Benicio whispered in dread.

    <em>Hes right</em>, Marika realized. When she dared to approach the chest closer, she immediately sensed the temperature rising. It wasnt theforting warmth of a hearth nor the searing heat of the forge, but something else. Something nefarious. <em>This sword is infused with fire essence but not the kind Ive ever seen.</em>

    This sword belonged to a great hero who cut down countless evil beings during the Sunderwar. Unfortunately, you can see the toll it took on the sword. Chastel crossed his arms. Mydy has contacted many exorcists to return it to its former glory. A difficult task, Im sure youd agree. So far none has seeded in fulfilling her wish.

    I can imagine why, Marika muttered to herself. For the sealing contraptions to fail in keeping the essence sealed, the evil within had to be unfathomably powerful. This sword must have killed thousands

    It has. Chastel closed the chests lid. The sinister pressure around the forge lessened, but did not entirely clear. So, do you think you can tackle mydys request?

    Marika clenched her jaw. She wasnt one to back down from an exorcism, but this weapon was <em>dangerous</em>. Draining away the darkness that infected it would be a long, arduous task, even with assistants.

    Im not sure, Marika admitted. I can see why so many failed to purify that sword. To do so safely will take a very, <em>very </em>long time and a great deal of effort. Just the number of runestones required to drain the curses

    Mydy understands that, Chastel replied with a reassuring grin. She is willing to offer an advance payment to both cover extra costs and ensure that you fully focus on the task.

    Will frowned. How much?

    Mmm, how about five thousand gold? Would that be enough payment?

    Marika choked at the number, while Will stood there in mute disbelief.

    F-five thousand? Marika repeated, believing she had misheard. Thats a fortune!

    I have deep, <em>deep </em>pockets, and mydy will settle for nothing less than state of the art quality, Chastel confirmed with an amusedugh. He searched inside his coat and brought out a nging purse. I can give you half of it now, and the other half will be given when the sword is restored. Can you finish the job in three months? Mydy understands that good work requires time, but she isnt too patient either.

    Chastel tossed the purse at Will, who caught it midair and swiftly opened it. Marika peeked inside to see her own reflection in more gold coins than she had ever seen in her lifetime. Husband and wife exchanged nces.

    Can you give us a minute to discuss your offer between us, Mister Chastel? Will asked the customer.

    Of course, of course, the grinning man replied with mischievous eyes. Plot away!

    Will and Marika moved to the back of the forge. Her husband carried the coins and immediately tasted them. Theyre real, he whispered in astonishment. Five thousand

    Its a kingly sum, Marika muttered. Her mind struggled toprehend what that fortune represented. The couple considered setting aside one gold a month an achievement; a lifetime of work wouldnt let them umte more than a fraction of that sum. This

    This was too good to be true.

    Marika was a down-to-earth woman. After the mirage of greed came the skepticism. What kind of noble would pay such an extravagant sum to purify a single sword, even if it was a priceless artifact from the Age of Wonders? Chastel kept mentioning thatdy of his without giving away her name. Anonymous patrons always hid something.

    Thismission sounds shady, Marika said. Shifty.

    I know, Will replied with a deep scowl on his face. But five thousand even if we subtract the costs of reforging the de, it would change so much for us.

    Yes, it would, Marika conceded.

    The couple had long considered having another child, but the discovery of Benicios gifts changed their ns. Their son showed enough aptitude to be a true witchcrafter, the kind who could shape runestones, shape elemental essence, and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Rivend Federations elite. However, tuitions at sorcery academies cost a small fortune. The couple had decided to postpone their second childs birth until they could umte enough funds and secure loans to pay for Benis education.

    Five thousand gold changed this calculus. With such a sum, Marika and Will wouldnt have to take any loans. They could already purchase a spot for Benicio at the nearest academy, invest in arger forge and a bigger house, secure their retirement when they grew too old to work

    The risks were great, but even Marika struggled against the temptation.

    Can you even repair an adamantine sword? she asked her husband.

    Will bristled. Its true we dont have soulforged adamantine lying around, but I can melt and rework the de.

    Youve never tried with an alloy soplex.

    Because its a once-in-a-lifetime asion, Will replied with a hint of annoyance. Forging adamantine is every cksmiths dream. I know my job.

    <em>Ive wounded his pride</em>, Marika realized. Im sorry, Will, she apologized. Im not doubting your skills, Im just this is a bigmission. There are challenges, and then theres <em>that</em>.

    I understand, Will replied. But weve handled tough weapons before. Im sure we can deal with this one.

    What if I fail? Marika asked nervously. We cant repay the advance. What if I fail toplete the exorcism?

    You wont fail, Will reassured her. His warm hands moved to her shoulders. Youre the best exorcist in the world.

    Her husbands trust in her reassured Marika. She nced at Beni, who exchanged words with Chastel. She pictured her son dressed like a true sorcerer, crafting runestones that would adorn nobles rather than reforge weapons of war. She wanted a better future for him than the one she could offer him right now.

    Maybe Will was right. Maybe this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She nodded at her husband, and the pact was sealed.

    Very well, Mr. Chastel. Will shook the customers hand. We ept the challenge. Youll have your sword in three months time.

    Wonderful! The mans smile finally reached his eyes. Ill watch your progress with great interest.

    With half the payment avable, the couple immediately went to work.

    Repairing an adamantine weapon, let alone exorcising a sword filled with so much evil essence, required better equipment than they had. Will handled everything, as he usually did. He purchased better toolsthough Marika kept her trusty sledgehammer for old times sakeand more runic whetstones, upgraded the forge with a water-powered bellow, strengthened the st furnace, and brought lumps of raw adamantine. With all their new additions their little house in Sleepy Hollow started to look like a factory.

    But the moment Marika started working on the de, she immediately realized she was out of her depth.

    Just touching the swords hilt and putting it on an anvil turned out to be a chore. The sheer malice radiating from the weapon infected Marikas gloves within minutes of physical contact, forcing her to purify them in short order. Same with the anvil. A day of work was enough for the swords stray essence to grow screaming faces on the metals surface. They had to surround the anvil with four runic whetstone to prevent itsplete corruption.

    Ive never seen something like this, Marika muttered. Its almost like a Blights heart.

    Will scowled back at her, a hammer and pincer in hand. I thought Blights only covered a location, not items.

    They should, Marika confirmed while chewing her lip. Shed never heard of a weapon that umted so much corrupted essence that it could infect inanimate objects. The main risk of cursed weapons was of them influencing their wielders, not mutating their surroundings. Ill need to drain away the corruption in the room before we can even start working on the de properly.

    Can I help, Mom? Benicio asked. He tried to sound brave, but his mother could see the worry in his eyes. He too understood that this sword might prove more dangerous than any other cursed weapon so far.

    No, absolutely not. Marika chewed her lip nervously. In fact, go outside while mom and dad work.

    But I can help!

    Beni Marika squinted at her son. Obey your mother, young man.

    But

    Another ''but'' and youre grounded, Marika gently scolded him. No more hero bedtime stories either.

    Benicio gulped at the threat and quickly bolted out of the forge.

    Poor Beni. His father chuckled nervously. Its that bad?

    It is, Marika admitted. She focused all of her attention on draining the leaking corruption into the runestones around the anvil. Foul ckness spread on their surfaces like oil on water. Can you reforge the de without damaging the chains?

    It depends. Can they stand the forges heat?

    They should. From what Marika could tell, the ancient spells woven in the chains could resist almost anything. Though they failed topletely contain the swords corrosive essence, they still remained untouched by it. But you mustnt hit them. If you do, dark magic will spill out of the de in a violent way.

    Will confidently grabbed the sword and moved the de into the heart of the forge. Marika followed after her husband, draining away the leaking essence that threatened to poison his tools and flesh.

    Watching Will forge weld never failed to impress her. After heating up the de to critical temperature, he began to carefully reshape it with hammer blows. Since he deftly avoided the sealing chains, they safely kept most of its essence contained as he worked. Will straightened the de, joined pieces of molten adamantine lumps with the cracks along the edge, and adjusted the temperature to ensure it would merge with the metal.

    They''rebining nicely, Marika observed.

    Soulforged adamantine doesnt differ much from normal adamantine, Will replied. Its just that the former alloy is forged in specific ces sacred to the artifacts. The edges will be slightly more fragile than the parts near the fuller, but so little it wont make a difference. This thing will cut through diamonds when Im done with it.

    Marikaughed at his boast. Youre the real magician here.

    Thanks. Will smirked as he refined the edges. It brings me back to the old days.

    Marika remembered it vividly. The two had been rival cksmiths fighting over clientele once, each with a different style. Whereas Marika favored sturdy and practical designs like bastard swords, Will preferred to dabble in fancier weapons like rapiers. Marika always ended up second to her future husband in terms of sales, which annoyed her to no end.

    A weapons value is determined by how much you can trust it in a pinch, Marika had argued once.

    Youre wrong, Will had replied to her back then. A weapons value is determined by how many want to wield it, nothing more. Still, I wonder what would happen if webined our approach

    What started out as something of an amusing coboration turned into a long-term partnership, and then a romantic one. Eventually, Marika had to recognize her husbands raw talent. Although she remained the only exorcist of the two, Will was by far the best craftsman shed ever met. Her only equal.

    Though if you ask me Will smiled charmingly. Beni remains the best thing we ever forged together.

    Marikaughed. That one was terrible.

    I heard youugh though, he teased her. Cheer up, Ka. Well get through this.

    His enthusiasm rejuvenated her. Marika went back to work. However, it became clear that there weren''t enough runic whetstones in the Rivend Federation to drain all of the swords malice. It held as much negativity as a centuries-old Blight, if not more. Even then, it would require breaking the chains, which was beyond Marikas power. The spells woven into the runesteel were so ancient and potent that she doubted anyone except the Mage could unravel them.

    Marika considered her options beforeing up with a novel solution. If purging the corruption proves impossible, how about infecting it with kindness?

    You want to scold it with kind words and prayers? Will mused.

    In a way, Marika replied, much to her husbands surprise. Ill charge runestones with essence full of good thoughts. If you mix them with the adamantine, the positivity will flow into the de.

    Would that purify it?

    I dont know, Marika admitted. Ive never tried anything of the sort. Ive got the feeling that tried-and-true methods wont work with this de.

    Charging runestones with joyful essence proved easy. Sleepy Hollow was a small, friendlymunity. Everyone participated in rituals and songs on Priestday at the local abbey, so when Marika asked permission to gather essence to purify a cursed de, it was easily granted.

    This sounds like a difficult case, Bishop Huguenot said, the viges straightced priest. Im not certain ourmunitys wishes alone would suffice to purge a seven-hundred years-old curse.

    Ive considered traveling to Erebia, Marika admitted. I assume I would just have to sit and pick up holy fetishes off the ground.

    Yes, yes, I remember. Bishop Huguenot smiled warmly as he reminisced over his past. When I trained for my initiation, we went on a journey to Highvalley, the city closest to the holynd. So many wishes and prayers gathered in this ce that the local essence gathered into Sanctuaries.

    Sanctuaries were the rarer opposites of Blights: areas where so much fortune and positivity rued that itpounded into a sacrednd of prosperity. Its inhabitants lived longer, harvests were more bountiful, and good luck blessed the region in subtle ways. Sanctuaries were delicate things, however, and jealously protected.

    I could write you a letter of introduction, Marika, the bishop suggested. ess to Highvalley is highly regted, but I have friends and students there. Im sure they will let you charge up runestones at their Sanctuaries.

    Thank you, your eminence. Marika bowed in gratefulness. I might take you up on it if my idea fails.

    A month into themission, and Marika charged her runestones with enough happiness to put a smile on a penitents face. She came home one evening with a bag full of them to find her husband still at work at the forge, hammering the swords edges with relentless determination.

    Im back, Marika announced, startling Will; much to her amusement. Were you daydreaming on the job?

    Sorry. Will let out an embarrassed chuckle. Forging adamantine demands immense concentration.

    I know. Still, Marika immediately assessed Will with her essence sight. The swords chains and the purifying stones around the forge should prevent its power from affecting her husband, but it didnt hurt to be careful. Thankfully, she quickly confirmed the leaking essence mostly moved into her husbands tools rather than his person. Ill need to purge your hammer before the next step. Its picking up a little too much malice for my taste.

    Suit yourself, Ka.

    After purging the tools, Marika took over her husbands ce. She mixed shards of her happiness-charged runestones with molten adamantine, and then prepared to apply it to the des edge. One, two Marika began grafting. Three!

    The de exploded in her face.

    A burst of raging mes utterly consumed Marika, drowning the forge in red and yellow. A heat greater than anything she had ever experienced drowned her in a tide of warmth. She felt her skin and flesh torn off her bones. A surge of indescribable pain took her over, so intense she couldnt even string two words together, let alone a scream.

    Then came the fury.

    A rage that burned hotter than a volcano erupted in her heart. Her world became a torrent of mes punctuated by screams of abject terror. Her humble forge opened into a burning corridor filled with maimed corpses. Her boots echoed on the cracking floor then shattered a door with a kick. She smiled at the smell of blood and revenge.

    There was a woman in the room beyond, a lovely girl with an ash-ridden dress and a crown of gold. She knelt at Marikas feet, weeping, begging, praying. Marika slowly caressed the strangers cheek, gently stroking her fair skin, delighting at the feeling of warm tears turning to steam on her iron glove. The fleeting joy almost soothed the berserk me in her heart.

    Lord Belgoroth, please The womans hands moved to Marikas legs, imploring mercy. All I have done was out of love

    The word awakened the beast within like salt on a wound.

    Marika hacked the womans skull with her sword with a roar, cleaving it in two.

    The brain spilled on her metal gloves and the burning, sword-shaped mark on the left one; it seared her hand in exquisite pain. But one stroke wasnt enough. It would <em>never </em>be enough. It didnt dim the pain and the rage at all, not at all! So Marika kept going. She cut and cut and cut in her fury, until nothing remained of her victim but charred pounds of flesh and bones. Her ck sword, her truestpanion, gorged itself on the sweet, sweet blood. Bone shards and gray matter bounced off her face.

    Marika stopped to look at her grisly work with a cold gaze, then put her hand in her victims flesh. She washed her own face with her bloodsoaked fingers, basking in the strangers perfume. That treacherous whore smelled good, even in death. How good it felt to have her blood wipe away the ashes on Marikas cheeks this warm shower washed away her sins.

    Marika felt <em>pure </em>again.

    But the fleeting satisfaction did notst. So Marika stepped over her victims corpse and nced through the window. She looked at the shadows of a city whose towers were burning candles and its streets rivers of blood. The ashes rained on the corpses of thousands.

    Theyre all dead now the traitors, the betrayers, the fools and the wicked all dead Marika muttered, though her voice was not her own. At longst everyone is dead, dead, <em>dead</em>

    And Marika smiled.

    Ka? The voice felt familiar, though she couldnt name it. Ka!

    Marika snapped back to reality. She had fallen into a corner of the forge, with her frightened husband shaking her like a tree. What she grunted uponing back to her senses. Her hand moved to her forehead, unburned and unarmored. What what happened?

    You flew halfway across the room, thats what. Will gently helped her back to her feet. Almost threw a bucket of water at you too.

    A bucket? Marika wondered what he meant until she took a good look around the forge. The bound de burned on the anvil with a yellowish glow, surrounded by steaming puddles of water.

    The ce nearly caught fire, Will admitted. Cant extinguish the mes on the sword, no matter how hard I try. It doesnt cool down.

    That essence Marika focused on the yellow, unnatural inferno that reeked from the de. Its not fire essence.

    It was <em>wrath</em>.

    This de contained so much burning anger, so much searing hate, that its essence generated <em>heat</em>. Marika didnt even know that was possible. Fire generated an elemental essence, one usually separate from emotion-based sorcery. Yet these two concepts had intertwined into the de until they became near indistinguishable.

    That sword was filled with a depthless hatred for all that existed. It did not want to shed blood to feed on the ughter. It sought to burn the world and itself somewhere along the way.

    What kind of atrocity could forge such a sinister weapon?

    <em>The one I witnessed</em>, Marika thought. The memory was etched into the sword like a deep scar. <em>Belgoroth the woman called him Belgoroth.</em>

    Chastel is either misinformed or misguided. Marika crossed her arms. The more she worked on this sword, the more she regretted taking on themission. No hero wielded this sword.

    Is your idea a bust then? Will asked with a scowl.

    Marika examined the room with her essence sight. Though the sword erupted with anger, the positivityced runestones encrusted in its edge did weaken the malice suffusing the metal. We can try again, she said, though with less enthusiasm than before. You should stock up on water first.

    It didnt work.

    Marikas method did dull the evil essence leaking from the de to a point, but it violentlyshed out each time she tried a runestone graft. Twice she repeated the procedure, and twice the sword nearly set their house on fire in a violent degration. The swords essence burned on its own for hours until the chains seal smothered them out.

    At this point, Marika realized something that shamed her.

    I cant. For the first time in her life, Marika had hit a wall she couldnt climb. I cant exorcise this de. Not without removing the seals first, and if we do I dont think well survive. Theres so much corrupted essence within that sword, it might very well kill everyone in its vicinity. Maybe even start a localized Blight.

    We cant back down from the job, Ka, her husband said. Weve burned through most of the advance payment already. We cant repay it.

    I could travel to Highvalley, Marika suggested. Purchase Sanctuary runestones there. They might be powerful enough to purify the de, or at least weaken the curse to a manageable level.

    A trip to Erebia? Are you mad? Will scowled in distaste. It will cost a fortune, as will paying for their runestones.

    You want to cut corners on an exorcism, Will? Marika red at her husband. He could be such a fool sometimes. Its a recipe for disaster!

    Will red back at her. You want us to go into debt?!

    His venomous tone made Marika recoil. No, I I didnt mean

    We cant pay the advance back, Will snapped at her. Well have to sell the forge, even the house. We wont be able to afford Benis tuition, ever. You <em>have </em>to purify that sword somehow!

    How?! Now she was shouting too. They never did that. If you have any idea how to exorcise a seven-hundred years old cursed sword, be my guest!

    The look Will sent her that hateful re, that ck scowl of pure fury it onlysted a few seconds, but it shook Marika to her core. She immediately regretted her words.

    Im Marika recoiled and looked away. Im sorry.

    No, no, Ka, its fine. Will put a hand on his forehead for a few seconds, and when he removed it, his terrible expression was gone. He sounded ashamed of himself. Im the one whos putting too much pressure on you. Im sorry I snapped at you.

    Will took Marika in his arms and held her close.

    Im harsh because because I care. Because I know you can do it. He smiled ear to ear before lightly kissing her on the lips. Maybe you dont have faith in yourself, Ka, but I do. You will seed. I promise you.

    If only Marika could believe him

    They spent another month trying to purify the sword, and failed.

    Again and again Marika attempted to infuse purifying runestones into the sword. She no longer had visions, mostly because the evil within the weapon had grown wise to her tactic and fought back with fire. Each grafting attempt risked destroying the forge in a destructive st.

    Will started understanding at first, but as weeks went on his patience grew thin. She caught him sending her that dreadful look more often, and after nearly a decade of peaceful coexistence They started arguing.

    Its been two months already! Will snapped at her after yet another failure. One more and Chastel will be at our doors with an unfinishedmission and two-thousand and five hundred coins gone! Dont you understand whats at stake?

    I know! Marika was at her wits end. We could have ten years and it wouldnt be enough to purify that sword!

    How hard can it be? That terrible look came roaring back to the surface. Why wont you purify that damned sword!

    Because I <em>cant</em>! Marika shouted. I cant do it!

    A tense silence fell upon the forge. Will clenched his fists in anger, while Marika looked down on the ground, ashamed. She was the best, but this time, the situation was beyond her.

    After so long, Will finally lost hope too.

    Chastels mistress paid us to exorcise <em>and </em>repair the de, Will muttered to himself. I dont like leaving a job half-finished, but maybe we can negotiate with her if Ive at least reforged the sword. Waive away the advance. Well say goodbye to the other two and a half thousand, but at least well be in the clear.

    Will

    Its nothing I cant handle. Will turned his back on her and grabbed the tools. Just go, Ka. I need to focus.

    Nothing you cant handle? Couldnt he see the truth? Will, that sword is <em>dangerous</em>.

    Then get to work and purify it instead ofining, Will snapped angrily. We cant afford to fail this job!

    Marika clenched her fists, but said nothing.

    Her husbands nging hammer resonated in the forge long after she left it.

    Days stretched into weeks, each more lonely than thest.

    Forging an adamantine sword proved difficult, even for a master craftsman like Will; especially when he had to work around runesteel chains. One night, he stayed awake until morning to keep up the pace. Marika thought it would be a one-time deal, but when he failed to join her in bed the next day, she realized he wouldnt leave the forge until hepleted Chastels task.

    At first, she brought him food and drink, which he epted with a grunt and scarcely a thank you. She eventually grew weary of him not leaving the forge and stopped doing so, hoping to shake him out of his obsession. Instead, he started stockpiling food and water so he could keep working continuously.

    And when she tried to invite him to sleepor even kiss himhe pushed her away. Nowadays, she only went down to the forge to extract leaking essence from the tools and anvil. Even then, Will med her for it. Shouldnt you work on the de rather than my hammer? he snapped at her once. I would finish quicker.

    After nearly a decade of happy marriage, Marika had to admit she didnt expect their rtionship to hit such a rough patch. She understood the financial constraints and Wills fears, but they could survive it. She hoped they could patch up once that damned sword was out of their life.

    Mom, Beni asked when time came to put him to bed. Why isnt Dading up?

    Because he cares, Marika replied while kissing him on the forehead. The noise of steel shing against steel echoed from below their feet. Hes working on a very important job, but hes always thinking of you.

    Beni didnt believe her. You say that, but he snaps and shouts at me whenever I talk to him.

    Because your father is under heavy stress. That was true at least, though it didnt excuse Wills behavior. Marika understood he needed to concentrate on the task, but Beni was his own flesh and blood. He does not mean it.

    He cares more for that sword than us. Beni looked so much like his father when he scowled. When is the smiling maning back to pick it up?

    Tomorrow. Then they could put that madness behind them; if they could negotiate a deal. Tomorrow, sweetling.

    Dawn couldnte quicker.

    When Beni finally fell asleep, Marika traveled down into the forge. To her surprise, she found her husband taking a pause. He held the swords hilt with metal gauntlets, reviewing the de. The sharp edges let out a whistling sound when they cut through the simmering air of the forge.

    Youre done, Marika whispered.

    Not yet. Will had lost a few pounds in thest week, and his skin darkened from the constant heat of the forge. He appeared to have aged by ten years. Somethings missing.

    Marika nced at the strange hole on the hilt. Will, theres no jewel in the Rivend that can fit here.

    No, not a jewel. Something else. The spots meant for something else. Will shook his head in frustration. Cant tell what.

    Its not our concern, Marika reminded him. She put a hand on her husbands shoulder, but he pushed it away. Will, stop...

    The jobs not done, Will grunted, his eyes surrounded by ck circles. It was always you. The talented one. I knew the moment I first saw one of your swords that I would never equal you.

    What are you talking about? Marika frowned. You sold more than me, remember?

    Because I worked my ass off to charm customers. They didnt buy my work, they bought my words. Will set the sword on the anvil. ckened runestones surrounded it like a throne of darkness. Youve got magic. Beni too. Im the only one in the family who cant see essence. The mundane.

    Will, dont say that, Marika pleaded. Youre the best cksmith I know. You can work wonders.

    Cant anymore. Too many distractions. Will snorted in anger. Like that boy, constantly mewling at me.

    You dont mean that, Will. Marikas heart hardened when her husband wouldnt answer. Benicio is your son. You said it yourself, hes the best thing we forged together, and right now, he needs you.

    I dont need him.

    Marikas blood boiled in her veins. You dont need your <em>son</em>?

    Hes a distraction, Will muttered, much to her horror. All he does is eat away at our food and budget. Cant hold a hammer right, costs us a fortune to send to school, keeps interrupting the job

    Beni is the reason we <em>took </em>that job, Will! That riled up alright. Marika clenched her jaw and grabbed her husband by the shoulder. And if you dont stop

    His hand tightened into a fist and flew straight at her face.

    Marika saw iting, but failed to dodge. Her mind simply couldnt believe what her eyes told her. The blow hit her right on the nose with enough force to send her stumbling back. She nearly fell, although mostly from the shock and surprise rather than the hit. Her hand moved to her mouth, though it did nothing to dull the pain.

    To his credit, Will appeared shaken for an instant; as if he couldnt believe what he had done. He stared at her with wide eyes. Ka

    Marika punched him back harder.

    Will tried to avoid it, but years of cksmith work left her quick and strong. Her blow sent her husband falling to his back and against the anvil. His eyes red at her with such venom and anger that she struggled to recognize him. His hand moved to the swords hilt, though he thankfully didnt turn it against her.

    A warm liquid dripped from Marikas nose and filled her mouth with a metallic taste. Blood. Will she rasped in anger and fury. Once this is over, well have a <em>serious </em>discussion about your behavior.

    Will didnt apologize. Far from it. If you had never existed, he said with a hateful re. I could have been the <em>best</em>.

    Once again, Marika activated her essence sight to check on her husband. For the first time since they took themission, she prayed that the swords malice corrupted his mind. At least it would exin his change in behavior.

    She detected no hint of foreign essence infecting him, no outer darkness invading his mind. Her runestones protected him well enough. These words were all his.

    Fuck you. Marika left for the room upstairs without a second look, while struggling against the urge to shed tears. Fuck you!

    Will didnt hold her back. By the time she retreated back into her bedroom, he was already back at work.

    Alone with the sword.

    The next day, Marika woke up sweating.

    Her awakening was slow andborious. Shadows blurred her vision, and a foul stench made her nauseous under the sheet. The whole bedroom was choked with infernal heat. Her mind struggled against tiredness and slumber as her eyelids slowly opened.

    Ka.

    Her husband was standing by the side of the bed. A shadow looming over her. It would have beenforting once, and a wee sight. Instead, Wills silhouette felt ominous in the dim light of the candle nearby.

    Im going with Chastel, he said with a happy, happy voice. The jobs not done. I need a bigger forge.

    What Marika coughed. A rancid stench filled the room. What are you talking about

    Lord Belgoroth is pleased with my work so far. The name sounded familiar, like an old forgotten curse, but Marika was still too drowsy to remember why. He offered to be my patron.

    His patron? Marika pinched her nose to cover the smell, her eyes slowly limating to the luminosity. Her nostrils still hurt from their fight yesterday.

    I dont need you anymore, Will said joyfully. I thought with you at my side, I could be the best. That everyone would remember me. But I was wrong. All you had over me was the magic sightyour only edgeand now I can see too. Without it, youre nothing special.

    What the youre not making any sense Marika sat against a pillow and looked up at her husband. Will, youre starting to creep me

    She froze at the sight.

    Will held the sword in his hand, its de drenched in blood, its edges releasing heat and smoke into the room. A bloody bandage covered his left eye. Marika wondered if he had hurt himself, until her gaze limated to the darkness enough to see the terrible truth.

    The hole on the hilt had a new upant. A wriggling, bloodshot red eye staring at Marika with a malevolent intelligence.

    Will Marikas hand moved closer to her pillow. She slept with a daggerst night after their fight, just in case she needed to protect herself. Drop the sword

    Cant. Dont you remember? You said a weapons worth is determined by its reliability. I thought it depended on how many people wanted to wield it. Will applied his finger to the swords sharp edge, drops dripping from the cut. Lord Belgoroth says a weapons worth is determined by how many lives it takes. His sword, its the most precious one in the world. A kingdoms worth of blood and pain and hate.

    There was blood, yes. The chained de was drenched in it. It couldnt all be her husbands.

    Will Marika gulped as a terrible thought crossed her mind. Whose blood is it?

    He smiled. A burdens.

    Marika drew the dagger and stabbed her husband in the chest. The de entered him all the way to the hilt right between the ribs. Yet smoke erupted from the wound instead of blood.

    Will snarled in bestial fury, and the sword shrieked to echo his wrath. Marika bolted out of the bed and tackled her husband out of the way before he could recover. Only thought upied her panicked mind.

    Beni! Marika shouted while rushing into her sons room. Beni!

    He was in the bed, bleeding out.

    Marika screamed in anguish at the horrific scene. Her son, her baby boy, trembled in his bed, pallid and gasping for air. A gaping chest wound protruded from the side, a red ravine from which his very life escaped him.

    Beni! Adrenaline surged through Marikas veins as her hand reached out to her wounded son. Her poor child was conscious enough to try reaching out to her with trembling fingers and tearful eyes full of fear. His breath was short, and his life hung by a thread.

    Fumbling in a haze of panic, Marika pressed her hands against the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. She was no medic, no healer. All she knew was how to exorcize evil and forge metal. Shed never tried to use her gift to save another.

    Marika forgot her own inexperience in her panic. She poured out her own essence, her very lifeforce, onto her childs wound. Its alright, sweetie, she whispered with trembling lips, trying to reassure her child while fighting back her own tears. Mommys here Im here

    Marika heard her maddened husband lumbering behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Will raising that damned sword at her, his loving face twisted into a deranged expression of utter hatred.

    Will, snap out of it! Marika shouted. She grabbed her son and backed away, leaving a crimson trail on the wooden floor. Will, that sword is corrupting you! Fight back!

    He heard her words, but did not listen. I should have killed you years ago, he rasped, hisst eye devoid of pity. You were just holding me back!

    He lunged at her in a sh of speed and fury.

    Marika would have died here and now if she had been alone. The noise of her son struggling for his life in her arms, desperately clinging to her for safety, filled her with determination. She sprinted towards the only exit in sight.

    ss shattered as Marika jumped out of the bedrooms window. She grunted in pain as she sheltered her son from ss shards, letting them cut into her flesh rather than her sons. Bedrooms were on the first floor, so she managed tond somewhat softly on the earth below.

    Someone! Marika cradled her son and looked up, her maddened husband red down at her from his elevated point. Someone help!

    But no one answered.

    Clinging to her son, Marika nced at Sleepy Hollow. Smoke rose from the houses of her neighbors and Father Hugenots church on the hill, alongside the stench of charred meat. Chastel was here too, standing still near the houses threshold, overseeing the devastation with hands in his pockets.

    Miss Marika. The man grinned at her with unblinking eyes. What a pleasant day, dont you think?

    Marika ran. She ran towards the nearby woods as fast as her legs could carry her, eachbored breath of her son another reminder that she needed to find a healer.

    Jean Chastel didnt chase after her.

    He justughed.

    Marika ran for hours until she reached the next vige over.

    She pumped her son with her essence all the way to the churchs doorstep, trading pounds of weight and flesh to knot out Benis wound. When healers came to take him away for treatment, Marika copsed in exhaustion. Thest thing she remembered before falling into unconsciousness was the inquisitors questions.

    Marika woke up two dayster sick in bed, in a white stone room with a couple of knights at her bedside. A blond woman with pale icy eyes and three prominent scars on her face, and a giant of a man in te armor equipped with frightful spikes. Marika couldnt see anything past his frightful basc helmet and visor.

    Marika Lunastello-Costa? The woman sounded cordial enough, though Marika had learned to fear what her purple te armor represented. I am Inquisitor Gunndra. Mypanion is Inquisitor Cortaner. We would like to ask you some questions about the Sleepy Hollow incident.

    Is is my son alive? Marika whispered, coughing in exhaustion. Benicio he was with me when

    Your son is alive, Inquisitor Gunndra reassured her. These four words filled Marika with immense relief for a time. Your essence transfusions saved his life, albeit at a cost.

    A cost? Marikas heart pounded like a war drum. What What cost? I dont understand.

    Human-to-human essence transfers are dangerous, even between kin, Gunndra replied with a look of sympathy. The healers informed me that his body will recover, but his mind might suffer from longsting trauma.

    Her Beni he wanted to be a magician so dearly. I I dont understand Marika muttered. I checked Will every day. I should I should have seen iting

    Will is your husbands name, is it not? Gunndra took Marikas naked hand into her armored gauntlet. Can you recount what you remember from the start? The more you can tell us, the better.

    It took Marika a few minutes to fully remember everything, and half an hour to recount her tale. Gunndra listened with a sympathetic expression, alternating between asking questions and offering Marika water to drink. Inquisitor Cortaner simply crossed his arms in silence. Marika might have mistaken him for a statue if not for his asional breathing.

    Belgoroth. Inquisitor Gunndra frowned in rm. Are you sure?

    I I heard the name. In the swords memories. Remembering that terrible vision alone caused Marika a headache. Will also mentioned him in his his madness.

    Inquisitor Cortaner, who had listened in silence so far, muttered to himself with a deep and terrible voice. Fear Belgoroth, lord of the berserk me, who sets thend aze and sails upon a sea of blood; for his fury cannot tell friend from foe.

    Belgoroth is a name only inquisitors and high-ranking members of the Abbey are allowed to learn; for to speak it alone stains the unwary soul with sin. Inquisitor Gunndra scowled. Belgoroth is the Lord of Wrath, one of the Demon Ancestors.

    A Demon Ancestor? A chill traveled down Marikas spine when put two and two together. The sword

    Belgoroth infamously massacred an entire city on his lonesome, using a single sword, Inquisitor Gunndra confirmed. The Blight that arose from this atrocity lingers to this day north of Archfrost. We thought the weapon was sealed and destroyed.

    Do you understand what you have done? Cortaner looked down on Marika, ck eyes peering through the slit in his visor. You and your husband helped repair a demonic treasure of tremendous power.

    Enough, Inquisitor Gunndra scolded her colleague. Her only sin was navet, which she willmit no more.

    No hes right Marika gulped in shame. She knew thatmission was fishy from the start, and she still let Will convince her to take it. I I took that job.

    You have done nothing wrong, Marika, Inquisitor Gunndra tried tofort her. Chastel has tricked people far smarter than you. If you had refused to help him, he would have found another victim.

    The memory of that frightful mans grin vividly came back to Marika. You you know him?

    He has used many names over the years, but yes, we know Chastel. Inquisitor Gunndras lips twisted into a hateful expression, one that made her three scars all the more prominent. Now that Marika looked at them more closely, they closely reminded her of w wounds. We suspect him to be a messenger and enforcer for a demonic cult dedicated to Belgoroth. Weve linked him to dozens of murders and disappearances across the continent.

    A cultist. Marika took amission from a <em>demon-worshiper</em>. I still I still dont get it, she muttered to herself, her hands clenching on the sheet. I I checked Will each day for signs of corruption. Im an exorcist. I know my job. If the sword had taken over, I should I should have seen iting.

    Cortaner snorted. One of the first things we learn as inquisitors is that no one can force someone to be a demon. One must choose to be damned, and thus pay the price.

    I dont think the sword poisoned your husbands mind, Marika, Inquisitor Gunndra said. Rather, I suspect it drew out what was already simmering beneath the surface. It put coal on his angers embers and cultivated them into an inferno.

    <em>I dont need you anymore,</em> Wills words echoed in Marikas mind. <em>I thought with you at my side, I could be the best. That everyone would remember me. But I was wrong. All you had over me was the magic sightyour only edgeand now I can see.</em>

    Was that how her husband always felt deep down? Marika couldnt believe it. It had to be a trick of some kind. Is he

    Your husband is gone, along with the sword, Cortaner replied bluntly. The cultists murdered everyone in the vige before leaving. You and your son were the only survivors.

    Marika froze in shock. Father Huguenot

    Is dead, the inquisitor replied. Alongside ten families.

    Enough! Inquisitor Gunndra red at her colleague. Thats enough!

    She must never forget, Gunndra. The man held his ground. The cost of letting a demon live.

    <em>Everyone is dead</em> Belgoroths wicked voice echoed in Marikas mind. <em>Dead, dead, dead</em>

    Marika? Marika?

    Gunndras words became a distant echo. Marikas eyes wandered to the cold stone wall opposing her bed, focusing on every tiny detail. The cracks in the rock, the slight brown spots left by removed mold they reminded her so much of bloodstains

    We wille backter, said Gunndra. Well arrange for you to visit your son as soon as he wakes up.

    Her son.

    Yes, she had to live for her son Beni needed her.

    More than he ever did.

    A man visited her after the inquisitors.

    Marika didnt recognize him. He was portly and small, with a ck hat and a bag full of paper. His silk handkerchief helped him remove the sweat off his brow.

    First of all, Miss Lunastello-Costa, allow me to express my sympathies for your loss, the man said with a pleasant, insincere smile. I understand that considering your current state and the tragedy that befell you, it will take time before you start paying my employers back. Thankfully, some agreed to waive the interests, and we can arrange a dy

    Im sorry, Marika interrupted him. You Do I know you?

    No, I dont believe weve met. He shook her hand warmly. Franois Marcello. I am a professional debt-collector.

    A debt-collector? The more Marika listened, the less she understood. I dont understand whose debts are you after?

    Yours, Miss. And your husbands, but since he has disappeared, I cant exactly track him down.

    He wasnt making any sense. We we dont have debts.

    These documents say otherwise. The man opened his bag and showed her scrolls. Your husband contracted these loans in both of your names.

    Marika was too exhausted to hold the papers, so Marcello moved them onto herp and read them out loud for her. She recognized her husbands handwriting, and his signature at the end, right beneath the ones and zeroes: Will Costa.

    <em>I always let him deal with customers and suppliers</em>, Marika thought in utter despair. She never questioned her husbands business trips to Tradewind. Sometimes he came back withmissions, sometimes not. He always smiled when he returned, and that had been enough for her. Some Some of these loans are over three years old. Three years. Three years before the sword. I never saw this money.

    Your husband usually paid back older creditors with new loans. Your business had a reputation for quality and efficiency, so most of Tradewinds banks were more than willing to ept the gamble.

    That was why Will had been so insistent on taking thatmission. Five thousand gold would have covered everything and then some. Marika would never have noticed a thing.

    Where where did the original money go? she asked.

    A mistress in Tradewind, from what I understand. The words cut deeper than a dagger. She had no idea you existed, if that can reassure you.

    It did not. At all.

    My husband tried to murder our son, Marika whispered emotionlessly. She would have cried if she still had the energy for it. She didnt have strength left for anger; only emptiness. My entire vige was wiped off the map. This this is too much right now.

    Mr. Marcellos eyes widened slightly, and a fleeting sh of sympathy appeared on his face. Itsted only a few seconds. Perhaps Marika imagined it.

    All institutions are made of men, Miss Lunastello, the man said. I think most creditors will waive away the debt once they learn what happened. I will do my best to lighten your burden. But your husband borrowed from a few disreputable people. Some of them <em>will </em>demand payment in full.

    Marika held her breath. My son

    If all goes well, he wont have to pay a single copper.

    He lied poorly.

    It took three months of recovery and endless questioning before the priests agreed to let them go.

    Beni hadnt said a word since they left the hospital.

    In fact, he hadnt said a word since he woke up. The doctors said his throat and tongue worked perfectly; but he might remain voiceless for the rest of his life nheless. The wounds of the mind healed slower than those of the flesh.

    Marika had to sell everything. Most of her tools, the houseit astonished her that Mr. Marcello found anyone willing to buy the forge; exorcists hadnt yet managed topletely clean the Blight that took over Sleepy Hollow after the massacreher savings, everything. She could only keep the clothes on her back, her sledgehammer, and tools to work.

    True to his word, Mr. Marcello managed to reduce the debt to a fifth of its original amount; kind priests and strangers donated funds, including Wills mistress. She even visited Marika at the hospital, professing her ignorance and giving away the jewels her lover bought her. Marika thanked her for the gift and prayed never to see her again.

    Goodwill had its limits, however, and Will saddled his wife with hundreds of gold to pay back. The creditors agreed to a dy, but insisted that she sign magical documents that would allow them to track down her essence in case she decided to skip town like her ex-husband.

    <em>Lunastello</em>, Marika had signed on the document. Never Costa. Never again.

    Benicio squeezed her hand with a tight grip. Her son had grown paler in the hospital, his eyes alternating from staring at the ground to their surroundings. He reminded his mother of a rabbit searching for any hint of danger.

    <em>He still expects his father to jump out of the shadows and finish him off</em>, Marika thought bitterly. <em>Will is going to haunt us both for a long time.</em>

    He and Chastel were still out there, plotting and killing. A part of her wanted to go after them for revenge, but Benicio came first. She needed to find work, any kind of work. Her son would never go to a magical academy as she had hoped, but if she yed her cards right, he wouldnt have to suffer for his parents mistake.

    So long as Beni lived, Marika would not give up. She would keep going. She would work, buy him toys, and do everything to make him happy. And then one day one day, she might hear her sons voice again.

    That was all Marika wanted.

    <em>They need exorcists in Archfrost, ording to Mr. Marcello, </em>Marika thought as she and her son walked away from the church. The night was fresh and cool, as befitting the end of winter. <em>I hope itll be spears and axes. I''ve had my fill of swords.</em>

    A sh of light illuminated the night.

    Marika and her son froze in surprise as a spear of light arose in the west, setting the horizon aze. She immediately thought of the Chained de, but there was nothing ominous about that radiance. It inspired awe instead of dread.

    What the Marika held on to her son to protect him. The light came from distant Erebia, the holynd where the goddess once descended upon the world. Could it be

    The pir of light vanished in a shockwave that shook earth and heaven alike. Over a dozen stars flew out of Erebia in its wake, a third shining like gold and the rest glittering like silver. The miracle amazed Marika, but not as much as the next scene.

    For the first time since that terrible day, Benicios eyes widened in hope and wonder.

    Look, Beni! Marika pointed at the lights. Its like the stories! The heroes areing back!

    A silver orb flew in their direction like a shooting star. Marika wondered which mark it belonged to; and who would be the lucky winner.

    When the stars trajectory curved in their direction, she could only blink in shock. She raised her left handthe one she once stabbed her own husband withto protect her eyes from the radiance. A divine warmth enveloped her, stronger than a forges fire and gentle like a mothers embrace. When the light died out, Marika found a silver hammer drawn on the back of her hand.

    The Artisans mark.

    Marika stared at it in mute amazement, her mind struggling to ept what her eyes saw. Such was the nature of miracle; even with the evidence in front of her, she simply couldnt believe it.

    But her son her gentle son observed it with the most beautiful face Marika had ever seen. A look of pure amazement and childish wonder. The expression of someone who had witnessed a fairy talee to life. He gazed up at Marika with the most wonderful things of all.

    A smile.

    That was the true miracle.

 Chapter Seven: The Berserk Flame

    Chapter Seven: The Berserk me

    We had the <em>Gilded Wolf</em> surrounded by nightfall.

    The two-floor establishment stood in the heart of Snowdrifts slums, a bastion of sin and revelry in a sea of destitution. Much like the rest of the city, its timeworn facade bore the weight of a decade of decay. The marks of past brawls were etched into its wooden beams and walls like old battle scars, and the smell of ale and sweat hung heavy in the air around it.

    The more I learned about the <em>Gilded Wolf </em>and its owner, Fenrivos, the less I liked it. On paper, Fenrivos was one of the few entrepreneurs left in the city. Exploiting the cataclysmic economic crisis to buy space on the cheap, he had houses destroyed to increase the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>s size and expand its activities. When the inn opened its doors, locals and foreigners alike could enjoy a warm drink, the rush of furious gambling, and the pleasures of a courtesanspany. All in all, the establishment reminded me of the <em>House of Gold</em> in Ermeline; except it catered tomoners with coins to spare rather than the noble elite.

    But there were unsavory rumors in the slums about what happened in that ces dark belly; of forbidden pleasures only avable to a wealthier and more amoral clientele than the average sailor looking for drinks and women.

    No one truly bothered to investigate Fenrivos,rgely because he paid his taxes on time, helped keep the city afloat in these troubled times, and paid off inspectors. ire once found two men willing to testify against the mans activities, but both were found dead in short order. The countess-to-be had nned to raid the ce for a long time, only to be dyed by her grandfathers illness.

    Quite the fortuitous coincidence, if you asked me

    We have closed off all ess routes from the surrounding streets, ire recounted to our group. The heiress hade equipped with a bastard sword, a buckler, an elegant helmet, and a chainmail shirt emzoned with a silver pegasus emblem. I even sent men to the sewers below. Nobody should be able to escape this ce without a fight.

    ire and Marika saw to it that I came properly equipped for battle. They had me put on a lightweight metal breastte over my padded gambeson, hardened leather vambraces and gauntlets to protect my arms, flexible legwear and chausses, and a strange helmet with a hinged peak projecting above the face opening. This ensemble should offer me good protection without sacrificing too much speed.

    What do you call this thing again? I asked Marika while putting down the helmets hinged te to cover my mouth and throat. A sallet?

    A burg, Marika replied with a chuckle. She herself came in full te armor and hid her face behind a visored helmet. She carried a sledgehammer too heavy for one hand to wield and a cloth bag on her back. Nothing decorated or fancy; just sturdy steel. Its called a burg, Robin. It should protect your head and maximize venttion.

    I dont think theres a weapon strong enough to beat some wisdom into his skull, ire mused.

    Why would beating a skull make one wise? Soraseo asked. Her crimson armor was by far the most borate of the gathered lot, though it surprised me she only came with her curved sword. I would have expected her to bring her shield for defense. Beating skulls brings in stupid spirits.

    No, that forget it. ire shook her head with a heavy sigh. Remember that our goal is to capture prisoners and gather evidence. Corpses do not talk, so avoid a bloodbath if possible. Colmar can heal most injuries, but not death.

    I dont think a peaceful raid is in the cards, I replied while drawing my rapier with one hand and my dagger with the other. I still struggled a bit with my essence sight, but even I managed to identify the dreadful aura radiating from the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>. This ce reeked of evil. The demons inside.

    ire nodded sharply. Do you think you could contain it?

    To my surprise, Marika shook her head. Ive learned the price of letting a demon live, she said. You would regret it, Lady ire.

    Demons do not surrender, Soraseo added. They lie to weaken the spirit and then strike at the back.

    I see, ire replied. If you must kill to save your lives, no one will fault you for it.

    So long as I am Lord Protector, lives will be fleeting, but thew will be eternal, I quipped. ire rolled her eyes, but I ignored her. Im surprised you decided toe, Marika.

    I dont like fighting, but I can defend myself, my friend replied with a shrug. Your skill transfer will help, I wont deny it.

    I hoped so. I was starting to run out of retired guards to buy experience from. I had a n to get around the shortage with Soraseos help, but since she intended to leave Snowdrift in the near-future, that well would eventually run dry. Considering Marikas status as a hero and exorcist, ire agreed to a permanent skill transfer to improve her survivability.

    This essence Marikas hands gripped her sledgehammer tightly. Its just like that sword

    That sword? I asked. Did she mean like Soraseos sword, which she exorcized not too long ago?

    Ill tell you another time, Marika replied evasively. Soraseo, Robin, can you stay close to me? If things are as I expect to find them, Ill require your assistance.

    Ive got your back, I said. Soraseo offered a respectful nod of agreement. Lets go now.

    ire whistled, signaling the start of the raid. Two dozen guards surrounded the establishment, with our heroic team going in first. Soraseo kicked the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>s front doors wide open, releasing a tempest of noise into the street.

    The tavern was full when we arrived. Hundreds of patrons drank and partied in a vast hall under the glow of flickering torches. The dim light cast shadows on worn floorboards, tables covered with food tters, and more ale mugs than I had ever seen gathered in one ce. Amanding barmaid with silver-streaked hair and a crimson gown presided over the revelry like a queen. A dozen waiters and waitresses attended to the needs of a motley lot of armed men too drunk for their own good, craftsmen looking for a good time, sailors drowning their sorrows in alcohol, and drunkards exchanging bawdy jests with one another. The mor was almost deafening, to the point I could hardly understand the few minstrels singing in the room.

    It said something about ire that her thundering shouts pierced through the noise. City watch! Everyone on the floor!

    <em>She can search me anytime</em>, I thought, though I wisely kept that joke to myself. Guards with clubs invaded the hall like a conquering army, silencing any shout or protest with a strike to the face. The wisest of the patronsthe kind not too drunk to thinkimmediatelyid down on the ground with groans andints. The stupider among them drew weapons or shouted back, only to be quickly subdued by the more experienced and better armored city guards. The tavern staff wisely called everyone to not resist and obey thew.

    We subdued the hall within minutes. While ire began to interrogate the barmaid and staff, I took the asion to look around the ce, immediately noticing stairways connecting to the upper floors.

    Where does that lead? I asked a waiter lying down on the floor.

    The brothel, he answered with his hands behind his back. Such a shame we had a demon to kill and criminals to arrest, or I would have sampled the goods. For the sake of public safety, of course.

    Marika pointed at a pair of sturdy, locked doors on the eastern side of the hall. What about those?

    The waiter clenched his jaw. The kitchens.

    Id never seen someone lie so poorly. The dreadful essence Id noticed earlier flowed out of the hinges and locks. Soraseo didnt waste time. Her de shredded wood and steel like paper, carving a path.

    <em>It even </em>sounds <em>sharper than most swords,</em> I thought as Marika and I followed after Soraseo, with other guards short on our heels. Stairs leading down to the basement awaited us beyond the destroyed doors. A thunderous chorus reached my ears, quickly followed by the sound of shing swords and cheering crowds.

    The <em>Gilded Wolf</em>s fighting pit awaited us below.

    We entered stands overseeing a sunken arena from above. The crowd here was smaller and wealthier than the patrons above, since such an operation required deep pockets and vetting to avoid loose tongues, but there were still dozens of spectators. Sixbatants ferociously shed on a floor of dirt streaked with dried blood, surrounded by the leftover corpses of three other men and just as many dogs. The smell of blood, and the raucous cheers of the patrons, drove the sweating warriors into a furious frenzy. I heard patrons too absorbed by the fight to notice us betting on their favorite warriors.

    Arenas were strictly regted in most civilized societies since they often generated Blights. That one could operate in Snowdrift for years spoke volumes about how much the counts grip on the city wavered in the wake of the gue.

    Tall torches were mounted along the walls, but most of the light came from a fire box at the arenas center: a burning yellow merger than a man and brighter than the summer sun. I felt my heros mark shine on my skin the moment Iy my eyes upon that dreadful pyre. The sheer amount of corrupted essence erupting from it was downright intimidating.

    Its its that me Marika trembled in a mix of dread and anger. This is <em>bad</em>.

    A bells toll echoed in the pit before I could ask for details, ceasing the fight below and silencing the crowd. My eyes darted towards the source of the noise: an isted balcony opposing the stands we were currently in. A tall, middle-aged man with graying hair stood there with two armored guards next to a bronze bell. At first nce, the stranger would have looked rather unremarkable except for his richer than average clothes but my essence sight immediately picked up the sinister red aura radiating from him.

    We had found our demon.

    Gentlefolks of Snowdrift! The fiend waved a hand at us. Please, a round of apuse for the three so-called heroes who have blessed this arena with their presence today!

    The drunken men among the crowd roared in delight at our presence, though most became quiet upon noticing the guards at our back. The demon was heavily outnumbered, but he remained strangely confident. That worried me.

    Fenrivos, I suppose? I asked, signaling to my allies to cut off the stands exits. Were you expecting us?

    Itll be <em>Lord </em>Fenrivos for you, false one. My mistress foresaw that you woulde here. The demon grinned ear to ear as he nced at the yellow fire in the arenas midst. s, you are toote. The berserk me of Belgoroth has already supped on a steady diet of pain, hate, and misery.

    Marika tensed upon hearing the name Belgoroth, though it meant nothing to me. Too bad, weve got enough water outside to douse it, I said before waving a rapier at Fenrivos. Get him, boys!

    Fenrivos exploded intoughter and the rooms temperature suddenly spiked.

    The disaster started with a slight disturbance at the edge of my sight, a simmering tension in the air, and a flicker of the torchlights. While spectators and guards alike remained oblivious to it, my fellow heroes and I immediately sensed the encroaching malevolence. Marikas mark glowed beneath her glove, as did mine, and Soraseos let out a silvery light from under her helmet. The essence in the air thickened with corruption.

    Marika, the only exorcist among us, let out a shout of warning. Blight!

    The me at the arenas center let out a demonic roar, and the world trembled.

    Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Thebatants closest to the epicenter were thrown to the ground by a pulse of malevolence. Corrupted essence surged from the berserk me in a tide of malice, infecting every inch of the arena. Glowing cracks spread through the floor like rifts leading into the heart of a volcano and spread outward. A few wooden benches among the stands caught fire, incinerating the spectators sitting on them; others contorted into macabre shapes that reminded me of fangs and toothy maws. The torches mes began to resemble snarling skulls of ghostfire.

    And then came the monsters.

    The dead dogs corpses on the arena ground rose back to their feet, with yellow mes erupting from their wounds and recing missing flesh. The diators grewyers of red scales over their skin and ck horns sprung from their skulls.

    But worst of all, madness spread through the air. Some of the panicked spectators began to convulse and contort, their limbs snapping in unnatural ways. Others showed subtler signs of corruption: a glimmer of wild rage in their eyes, frothing saliva dripping at the edge of their lips. They snarled at our group and lunged at us like rabid beasts.

    Soraseo jumped into the fray. Her de swept across the berserk audience in a decisive swing and beheaded five men at once. I stared at the trail of steaming blood she left in her wake, horrified.

    What are you doing?! I choked at the spectacle. The sudden disy of violence shocked me, especially since ire insisted on avoiding a bloodbath. We must incapacitate them, not kill them!

    It is toote, Lord Merchant, Soraseo replied with terrifying confidence and calm detachment. She cut down another maddened spectator without remorse halfway through her sentence. The evil owns their souls now.

    Shes right! Marika shouted, though with a lot more unease. Theyre already turning into monsters! Theres noing back from that!

    I opened my mouth to protest when one spectator bypassed Soraseo and lunged at me with nails turned into ws. I instinctively drew my rapier and impaled my attacker through an eye before realizing what I had just done.

    To my horror, he kept going. The maddened spectatora rich merchant from his choice of clothingpushed himself along the entire length of my sword and attempted to strangle me with his bare hands. His teeth transformed into fangs, and when I looked into his one remaining eye I saw no hint of humanity.

    Only bestial fury.

    Behold! Fenrivos gloated from his balcony. The true face of humanity!

    <em>Theyre right, its toote</em>, I realized. Even animals backed away from pain, but not my attacker. The berserk me had robbed him of everything except for a murderous hunger. Fear,passion, sanity I couldnt see any.<em> If they escape, theyll kill everything they encounter. Men, women, children, animals theyll keep killing until they die themselves.</em>

    Im sorry, I muttered. I drew my dagger and beheaded my assaint in one swift stroke, the de letting out a trail of mes in its wake. Im sorry.

    Fenrivos would <em>pay </em>for this atrocity.

    Our guards, having expected a riot, quickly adopted a defensive formation; raising their shields in a line and using their clubs to push away attackers. A tide of maddened flesh crashed against their armored wall of steel. As for Marika, she swung her sledgehammer at the attackers legs and arms rather than their vulnerable areas. Though I granted her fighting skills, she didnt inherit the will to kill. It would have meant her death in a situation like this one, were it not for her near-imprable armor.

    ire and reinforcements rushed in from up the stairs, with the future countess immediately gasping at the terrible sight. What madness is this

    Evacuate the tavern! I ordered. Though they were far away from the mes to avoid the worst of the madness, I noticed two of the guards holding their heads as if struggling against a terrible headache. Their discipline might let them keep their wits longer than civilians, but not for long. Evacuate!

    ire immediately protested. But Robin

    This me infects men with murderous madness! I shouted. It will contaminate the people upstairs unless theyre taken away!

    ire wished to argue further, until a maddened spectator jumped over her guards shield wall and attempted to tackle her. She repelled the attacker with her buckler and gutted him chin to groin, spilling steaming entrails on the ground. ire stared in horror at the corpse, whose arms still wriggled on the ground.

    <em>Its her first time killing</em>, I realized. Soraseo showed none of ires unease. The Monk single-handedly carved a crimson path through the stands, the blood of her victims invisible on her armor. She charged straight at the balcony which Fenrivos upied. The demons two armored bodyguards, utterly unaffected by the madness, moved to intercept her with heavy halberds. <em>Soraseos done it before.</em>

    It hit me that my mind was clear, an ind of sanity in a world gone mad. My marks light pushed away the corruption that turned the arena into a hellscape. And while Marika was shaken by the bloodbath, she wasnt convulsing like a third of our guards.

    ire, our marks protect us! I shouted at the countess-to-be, who was helping a still-sane guard move one of their woundedrades upstairs. Well take care of it from here!

    Finally realizing she needed to get the civilians upstairs to safety, ire nodded sharply. Dont die!

    <em>Thats the n</em>, I thought as the guards retreated upstairs, leaving Marika and I surrounded by blood and corpses. I hoped she was as good an exorcist as she advertised. Can you destroy the Blight?!

    No, but I can contain its spread! Marika rushed towards the arena. Cover me!

    Jumping into a fighting pit filled with undead and monsters wasnt exactly my idea of a good time, but it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I followed after Marika, my bootsnding straight on the ashen ground. I could feel the ever-increasing heat infiltrating my leather and metal armor alike.

    The berserk me burned with an eldritch radiance and let out a guttural growl. Its power expanded past the arena, twisting the walls and ceiling with the shape of snarling, eyeless faces and fiery scars. Six demonic diators answered the call to arms, charging at Marika and me with unhinged ferocity as half as many undead dogs followed in their wake.

    Not the best of odds, but Marika and I rushed at the me without hesitation. We both knew the stakes at hand: the Blight would consume all of Snowdrift unless stopped.

    Phantom instincts that werent my own guided my hands and feet. Ser Hugdans swordsmanship training. Freydis sharp hunter reflexes. The marks sudden boost in speed and strength flowing through my bones. They blurred together with my own experience in street fights into a dance of steel.

    A diator came at me with his axe soaring through the air. I dodged with a sidestep, impaled him through the eye with my rapier, and twisted it to scramble his brain. Another demonic warrior nked me with his sword, which I deflected with my dagger. His weight and strength pushed against my steel, and it should have brought me to my knees. Yet the marks power gave me just enough strength to push back and counter with a lethal strike.

    Ser Hugdan had been an asshole, but a pretty good fighter nheless. I would send him a fruit basket if I ever walked out of this hellish pit alive.

    At my side, Marika bashed a hellhounds skull in with her sledgehammer and then attempted to keep two others at bay with wide swings. As for Soraseo, she had beheaded one of Fenrivos guards and pushed back the other with a relentless flurry of steel.

    Your false marks might protect your souls, but they wont shield you from death! Fenrivos leaped off the balcony, his body wreathed in the same crimson miasma as Sforza before him. Guide my arm, Lord Belgoroth!

    The monster he became crashed into the pit with a thundering quake.

    The man had be a hulking horror thrice his original size. Though Fenrivos kept the vague shape of a humanoid being, his head morphed into that of a vicious bull, and his feet into steel hooves. Thick shaggy fur grew over his skin, with the exception of the skull, which shed its skin and flesh to reveal the bone underneath. Two zing red eyes red at me from under a pair of deadly horns. A massive, ornate axe toorge for any man to wield appeared in the monsters callused hands.

    The demon called his establishment the <em>Gilded Wolf</em> and transformed into a bullman. I felt cheated.

    My amusement turned to terror when Fenrivos charged at us in a terrifying burst of speed.

    He crossed the entire pit in an instant, the very earth shaking with every step. A demonic diator too slow to jump out of the way was trampled into fine paste under his hooves. Something sorge had no right being so fast, but he was at our throat in seconds.

    Down! I shouted a warning. I barely managed to tackle Marika out of the monsters way before a fatal impact. We tumbled on the arenas floor while Fenrivos crashed into the nearest wall with enough strength to shatter stone. The entire building trembled from the collision.

    Unfortunately, one of the remaining undead dogs seized its chance. He lunged at me before I could get back to my feet, aiming straight for the throat. I raised my rapier, with the monsters fangs closing on the de. The beast climbed onto me and pushed, trying to pin me to the ground while Fenrivos removed his head from the smashed wall.

    <em>These things are smart</em>, I cursed while shoving my dagger through one side of the dogs head. It didnt even flinch. <em>And they dont feel pain either.</em>

    Marikas sledgehammer smashed the dogs skull to pieces, destroying it. My friend grabbed my hand and helped me stand up. Do you have a n? she asked me as we faced Fenrivos.

    The good news, the demon had trampled all the small fry. The bad news, he was far worse.

    Yeah. My hands tightened on my weapons hilts. Try to stay alive.

    Fenrivos swung his axe with such speed that a whistling sound resonated when his de cut through the air. Marika and I split in two directions to dodge. The axe split the ground in half, with mes rising from the rift.

    My first instinct was to retreat and gather reinforcements, but the thought of my city turning into a hellscape kept me in the fight. I charged at Fenrivos while his axe was still stuck in the ground and stabbed him in the leg with my rapier. His hide and thick muscles proved as strong as armor, and my de about as effective as a needle.

    The kick that followed sent me flying.

    My breastte caved in, and my ribs would have followed were it not for the hard leather underneath. Inded a few inches away from the berserk me, my vision blurring briefly from the crash. Ashes filled my nostrils, and I sweated so much I thought I might dry up in seconds.

    I heard Marika call my name, though all noise became gargled to my ear. She managed to kneecap one of Fenrivos legs with her sledgehammer. Her weapons blow bent the bullmans bones and caused him to grunt in pain. Fenrivos then backhanded her so hard that she crashed against a twisted stone wall and copsed.

    I cant believe Im saying this, I cursed under my breath as I rose to my feet, but I think I would rather face Sforza.

    Sforza? With Marika seemingly unconscious, Fenrivos turned his attention upon me. Ah, youre the one who wiped out the Knot of Greed in Ermeline, are you not? The Knot of Wrath wont be so easy to deal with.

    Knots? I asked while leaping to the side to avoid a swing of Fenrivos axe. Once again the weapon narrowly missed me. I could dodge a hundred blows, but I wouldnt survive a single hit. What knots?

    The Knots are <em>everywhere</em>. Fenrivos wounded knee prevented him from charging at me, so he settled on swinging his axe around like a butcher. We tie souls together in the service of the true heroes.

    I would have taunted him with the fact that there was nothing heroic about the Demon Ancestors, but I didnt have time to catch my breath. I sidestepped left and right to dodge lethal blows. Fenrivos tried to push me closer to the berserk me, hoping that what his axe couldnt do, the fire would.

    A new challenger came to my rescue.

    Soraseo soundlesslynded in the arena, holding her bloody sword with one hand and the beheaded skull of Fenrivosst bodyguard in the other. She became a crimson blur that crossed over the pit in the blink of an eye, her armor simmering on her skin. Her sword shed across Fenrivos heel before he could finish me off, forcing him to kneel and staining the arenas ground with ck blood.

    Douse the me, Soraseo all but ordered me. She tossed her head trophy aside and raised her sword with both hands. I will get the victory.

    Its madness! I shouted in disbelief. You cant possibly take him alone

    Fenrivos snarled in anger and attempted to crush Soraseo under his axe. She stepped out of the weapons way with grace, the de missing by an inch, and then swiftly cut off four of the demons fingers with casual ease. The exchangested a second, but by the end, Soraseo stood unharmed and Fenrivos shrieked with a bloody stump for a hand.

    On second thought, she would be fine.

    Leaving Fenrivos to Soraseos tender care, I rushed to Marikas side. She was coughing ashes on the ground, wounded but alive. Here, easy, I said while offering my arm. I helped her get back to her feet. Can you stand?

    I think so still blurry Marika grunted. In spite of her words, I could tell she would fall over the moment I let her go. My bag please

    I grabbed the cloth bag on her back and revealed its contents: a gilded chain covered in encrusted runestones and arcane symbols. She and Colmar probably crafted it together.

    What are we chaining with it? I asked in disbelief. The demon?

    The me, Marika replied.

    Oh goddess

    I dragged Marika across the arenas floor to the tune of Fenrivos screams of agony. Soraseo had severed hisst functioning leg with a wide swing, forcing the demon to copse face first onto the ground. The Monk quickly maimed his other hand before he could recover, her de cutting through hard flesh and steel-strong bones with ease.

    I was almost tempted to sit and watch the spectacle. Now <em>that </em>was a warrior. I couldnt see Soraseos face beneath her visor, but the look in her eyes filled me with awe. Her eyes betrayed neither fear nor anger.

    In fact, she looked bored to death.

    However, for all of his might, Fenrivos threat paled before that of the ghastly me he worshiped. The more blood we shed on the arenas floor, the brighter it grew. The fire had grown into a pir reaching all the way to the ceiling and staining it with corruption. The very air simmered and the smoke twisted into screaming human faces. An aura of overwhelming dread and tension weighed on my shoulders, suffocating me.

    What what must we do? I asked Marika, the heat was so great my tongue went dry. Itll swallow the entire city before long

    Let me take care of it I let Marika go and watched her work. She whipped her chain into the air like asso before throwing it into the fire. The me let out an inhuman screech that sent shivers down my spine.

    The chain coiled around the fire like a serpent. Marika did not direct its movement, at least not physically. My essence sight picked up a current leaving my friends hands and guiding the gilded links into the air. The chain swirled in circles around the berserk me, weakening the heat. The fire stopped growing.

    A ck spot appeared in the fires heart.

    There there was something inside the me. A humanoid shadow coiling inside the light like a worm in an apple. Its shape reminded me of a knight in te armor, with the helmet vaguely resembling a lions mane.

    And then it <em>spoke</em>.

    Daltia What mischief are you up to, my old friend? The voice was guttural, yet it sounded so very human. Its echo reverberated into the arena. No you are not her

    A sharp surge of pain erupted from my hand. My mark glowed like the heart of the sun, as did Marikas and Soraseos. The Monk, whose sword was firmly stuck in Fenrivos skull, raised her head to re at the me.

    We all knew, deep within our heart, what was staring at us through the fire. The enemy we had been empowered to fight.

    A Demon Ancestor.

    Greedy fox, whose avarice knows no bound and you, widow blinded by false love my peers in name alone The shadows confusion turned to anger. It raised its left hand and a sword-shaped red symbol zed on its back. Why are you here? In this sea of mes and pain, there is nothing for you.

    That voice Marika muttered to herself, her eyes alight with fear. The memory youre Belgoroth

    Her concentration waned slightly, and the weakened me let out a roar of rage. The ceiling cracked. Focus, Marika! I shouted, trying to get her back on track before the whole ce copsed on us. Dont let him distract you! Youre almost there!

    Yes! Marika snapped out of her confusion and tightened her grip on the chain. Her gilded restraint coiled around the me, slowly choking its heat and power.

    Your efforts are for naught, the Demon Ancestor said, his voice grim and terrible. The people of thisnd the weak, the vengeful, the desperate their voices summon me to end their misspent lives of sin their suffering stokes my berserk me.

    If so mighty you are, demon, then you shall have my fury, Soraseo warned. She stepped over Fenrivors beheaded corpse and stepped closer to the me with her sword drawn. I challenge you!

    Two red points lit up on the shadows helm. The Demon Ancestor answered Soraseos challenge with a simple sentence deadlier than any sword.

    Wallow in your sins, <em>Mother-Killer</em>.

    His words resonated in the pit like a curse. Soraseos sword fell onto the bloodstained ground, her eyes suddenly hollow. She looked as if her soul had been snuffed out from within.

    No duel would take ce. Marikas hands let go of the chain, which intertwined around the me in a dense of metal. The fire shrank in size, its malice contained. I didnt fully understand the mechanics behind Marikas seal, but it managed to constrain the malicious essence flowing into the pit. The great pir of fire was now norger than me.

    To dy mying is folly. The Demon Ancestors shadow faded away with a final curse. We shall meet again when the City of Wrath opens its gates we shall toast a cup of blood.

    His cursed me lingered; sealed, but still burning.

    I exchanged a nce with Marika, then checked on Soraseo. The Monk stood frozen in ce, shaken and sullen. Soraseo? I called out to her. Are you alright?

    Her silence was an answer in itself.

    Fenrivos corpse burned away into nothingness, leaving only a familiar, skull-shaped golden coin behind.

    We won the battle, but the war had only started.

    The Blight had been somewhat contained within the <em>Gilded Wolf</em> by midnight, sparing the rest of the city; at least for a time.

    Neither Marika nor the citys witchcrafters knew how to douse the me in the basement. Its malice had infected the tavern above, twisting its main hall into a deranged house of fanged pits, twisted walls, and ever-burning torches. ire immediately ordered her men to set barricades around the ce in case monsters crawled out of it.

    Casualties among guards were minimal, though a few demented ones remained in Colmars care for treatment. We arrested all of the <em>Gilded Wolfs</em> patrons and issued arrest warrants for whoever had been foolish enough to invest in Fenrivos venture. I had the feeling a few cultists would hide among the greedy and the duped. We would interrogate many people by the nights end.

    Belgoroth? ire asked when we recounted our report. Colmar joined us too, his gloves covered in blood. He had been forced to amputate a few survivors.

    The Demon Ancestor we faced, Marika replied with a scowl. The Lord of Wrath. Thats his true, cursed name.

    I frowned. I didnt know.

    I I encountered his cult before. Unfortunately. Marika looked away. I didnt think their reach extended to Archfrost.

    If they could activate the Blight at any time, why didnt they do so earlier? Colmar asked. Did we force their hand somehow?

    I guess Fenrivos intended to unleash the Blight when it would cripple Archfrosts northern defenses the most, I said. We already suspect the beastmen in the north to serve the Demon Ancestors.

    Makes sense. ire stroked her chin. A Blight surging from behind our lines like a dagger in the back could have crippled our nation.

    Were facing arge organization that spans at least two nations, I warned my allies. I could guess who gave Sforza his cursed coin. Fenrivos confirmed he worked in tandem with aplices within Ermeline.

    Three nations, Robin, ire replied. We managed to recover documents in the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>, including shipment records meant for Irem.

    At least this raid would help crack down on that mysteriouswork. What did they send to Ermeline? I asked. Weapons? Drugs?

    ire scowled. People.

    My fists clenched in anger. Marika paled in horror, and Colmar crossed his arms in silence. Only Soraseo did not react. She had barely said a thing since our encounter with Belgoroth.

    From what I could read, Fenrivos and his aplices were shipping flesh, ire exined grimly. Her fair face twisted in loathing; that such crimes happened in her city infuriated her as much as me. They pretended to offer them passage to the Everbright Empire and other nations before putting them in chains. Men were sent to die in the arena, no doubt to fuel that horrible me with blood. The women and children were sent to the Rivend Federation and Irems ve markets.

    When orphanages didnt provide Sforza with enough flesh for his brothels or pickpocket bands, he imported them from Archfrost. The gue and civil war left no small amount of downtrodden people behind. How many families unwittingly signed on with Fenrivos, expecting a better future only to find themselves dragged deeper into despair?

    A ving ring. I struggled to contain my disgust. Theres not enough soap in the world to clean trash like them.

    We will get to the bottom of this, Robin, ire promised with determination. I swear it on my honor as a Brynslow.

    If there is a Knot of Wrath dedicated to Belgoroth, then we must expect all the other Demon Ancestors to have their own, Colmar pointed out. Now that we havee out in the open as heroes, we should expect future retribution from them.

    Marika crossed her arms, her eyebrows furrowing. So these Knots are what, a cultist confederacy?

    Awork of independent organizations, I suggested. I couldnt see how anyone could effectively coordinate a unified group spanning all of Pangeal. Each cult most likely acted on its own and cooperated with others when their interests aligned. Fenrivos mentioned a mistress warning him of ouring.

    I Marika cleared her throat. The cultist I encountered mentioned ady. It could be the same person.

    I nodded sharply. We still havent cut off the snakes head.

    Perhaps our captives will tell us more, ire said before changing the subject. What about the Blight? Will your chain hold, Lady Marika?

    Marika shook her head with a sorrowful scowl. Theres no seal in the world that can contain a Blight of this magnitude forever. I can rece the chain when it wears out, but a little essence will still leak through and poison thend around it.

    That didnt reassure ire. How much leakage?

    Marika hesitated a bit before answering. The Blight will swallow the city in months rather than hours.

    ire sighed in despair. I tried to cheer her up. Well, at least we gained time, I said. We can turn things around.

    I hope so, ire replied. What solutions do we have?

    One cannot entomb cancer, Colmar said. It must be excised or cured with medicine.

    I expected as much. Well stick to my n then, I dered. We renovate the city until it purifies the Blight on its own.

    Nobody voiced an objection. Our path was clear so far, with one exception. I nced at Soraseo, who clung to her sword the way an old woman would rely on her cane not to fall. No demon could harm her flesh, so they targeted her spirit.

    <em>Mother-Killer</em> I knew better not to ask why Belgoroth called her that way. If the usation was true, then the wound ran deep. Soraseo agreed to help until she could receive her letter of passage, but I hoped I could find a way to soothe her pain before she left. <em>She needs a friend.</em>

    So many other mysteries bothered me. Why did Fenrivos call our marks false? And the zing sword on Belgoroths hand it felt strangely familiar, though I couldnt put my finger on why. I had the feeling both of these details were rted somehow.

    A cloud of smoke suddenly erupted to my left, startling me. Everyone with a weapon drew it in rm, none swifter than Soraseo. I expected a surprise attack, only to find myself facing a familiar face.

    Ah, Robin! How good to see you again! Eris Brra grinned at me. The many swords pointed at her throat did not appear to bother her too much. What did I miss?

    The Wanderer was back.

 Chapter Eight: Hero Tour

    Chapter Eight: Hero Tour

    As it turned out, Eris had justpleted her hero tour.

    With the Blight contained for now, we heroes decided to enjoy a hard-won drink after a job well done. Marika and I invited our fellow heroesand ireto our home. The forge wasrge enough to house all of us, so Marika built a table and chairs from scraps and called it a day.

    My housemate hadnt wasted any time while I was working at the castle. Marika had strengthened the old walls with her power by fitting stones inside them and set up a workbench near the anvil where her tools were neatly arrayed. Moreover, a shelf near the hearth disyed the result of her recent experiments with her power: a spoon made of seashells harvested from the docks, a pair of wooden gauntlets, and a bizarre mishmashed sculpture of tableware. It seemed the more stuff Marikabined, the less practical the shape.

    So youve visited everyst one of us? I asked as I poured Eris a cup of wine. Raiding the <em>Gilded Wolf</em> let us gather arge treasure trove of confiscated goods. Great sses and vassals alike?

    The Artisan and the Alchemist were thest on my list. Eris all but snatched the wine cup from my hand. I figured I should save them forst, since theyre the Merchants vassals.

    Aww, you wanted to see me again? I teased her. The feeling is mutual, Eris.

    Careful, you might develop a little crush on me at this rate Eris yfully winked at me. She immediately noticed ires gaze darting between her and I. My my, Lady Brynslow, what are you imagining?

    That our Merchant thinks with his cock first and his brain second. ire squinted at me in judgment. Dont you have a type? That would spare most women from your unwee attention.

    I do not have a type, I have an open door policy. I offered a drink to both Colmar and Soraseo. Both refused, the former more politely than thetter. Soraseos helmet sat on the table, its owners face trapped in a deep mncholy.

    <em>Now thats just depressing</em>, I thought when I watched her. <em>I need to take Belgoroths words off her mind</em>.

    In fact, I believe having a type is positively criminal, I said after sitting next to Soraseo. Half the world is made of the opposite sex. If you restrict yourself to a narrow category, you close yourself off to countless good surprises.

    An interesting opinion, Colmarmented.

    Do <em>you </em>have a type? I asked him. Somehow Colmar didnt strike me as a romantic person.

    I have never been interested in men or women, the Alchemist replied. I understand that others may find happiness in love, but it is simply not for me.

    I agree with Robin, though mostly because most dont understand what makes them happy in the first ce. Eris chuckled. See, Lady Brynslow? Robin is the perfect Merchant because hes always looking for new opportunities.

    ire rolled her eyes. The world might be a better ce if he behaved properly.

    I wouldnt be so judgmental if I were you, ire. I pointed at her beautiful braid with a smirk. You still owe me my due from our wager.

    ire blushed in embarrassment, doubly so when Eris joined in on the fun. Oh? The Wanderer put a finger on her lips. Do tell.

    I admit, I am curious too, Marika said as she sipped her cup. I didnt expect her to be a heavy drinker, but she had been the first to go for the bottle. I suspected the nights events shook her more than she let on.

    I am a woman of my word. ire looked away, her cheeks now redder than a Fire Ind tomato. She was kind of cute when she acted childish. But I I will deliver on it in my own time.

    I understand, you want to do it in a private ce, I teased her, knowing perfectly well how it would sound. Dont worry, itll be our little secret.

    Come on Robin, you cant tease a gal like that in front of me and not follow through. Eris immediately started hounding ire. Lady Brynslow, confess your sins. What terrible crime are you expected tomit?

    Abandoning ire to my favorite nuns dogged attention, I turned to Soraseo. The Monk hadnt spoken a word since we left the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>. She could use a distraction.

    Could you show me how to y your instrument? I asked her. This gathering could use a song.

    My biwa? My question drew Soraseo out of her sullen state. I I do not have another, Lord Merchant.

    Come on, call me Robin, Soraseo. Weve fought a demon together, we can skip formalities. I turned to Marika. Mind lending us a hand?

    A few minutester, Marika managed to craft a pretty good replica of Soraseos instrument from wood scraps and ropes. I noticed that her Artisan power worked better when she had an idea of the fusions final result. Soraseo gave me a strange, t curved sheet of wood to strum the strings. A plectrum she called it.

    The musices from the mind, but the fingers y it on time, Soraseo exined. She grabbed her own biwa, her fingers moving the plectrum with the same grace as her sword along the instruments length. Like a sword, you must draw when you must, not when you can.

    Why do you not buy the skill directly, Robin? Colmar asked as I pinched the strings. It would be faster.

    <em>Because this performance is for Soraseos sake, not mine</em>. Besides, she would probably ask to buy her knowledge back immediately.

    There is a certain pleasure in learning things the hard way, I replied while testing my own plectrum. I cant develop my own style if Im coasting on somebody elses achievements.

    Soraseo began ying a sorrowful tune. I followed her lead long enough to get the hang of the instrument, but I quickly realized a tragic song didnt fit my taste. I started testing more joyful tones. I liked them. How about I muttered to myself, pinching strings with one hand and using the plectrum with the other. This?

    Then I yed <em>aggressively</em>.

    Whereas Soraseo was the calm and sorrowful moon, I was the raging storm, the wild beast, the fury, and the force! My powerful tunes drowned out my teachers under their mighty echoes, much to her dismay. Robin, she scolded me. The biwa is a gentle instrument!

    Doesnt sound like it, I replied. My audiences interest encouraged me to continue. Even Beni, who had been asleep upstairs, descended from our apartments above the forge to listen. How about you try matching my pace?

    Soraseo appeared almost appalled by my suggestion, but eventually conceded. Her mark let her match my tempo quickly, and as her music moved from sorrowful to wild and joyful, her frown slowly started to fade away.

    Youre a natural at this, Robin, Eris mused.

    Am I better than the Bard? I asked half-jokingly.

    Well, Neferoa can sing, so she has the edge so far. Eris mischievously covered her mouth. Oops. I know she tells everyone she meets that shes the Bard, but Im not supposed to share that.

    Neferoa? I repeated. Id heard the name back in the Rivend Federation. The so-called pirate queen from the Fire Inds?

    I thought it was just a rumor, Marika said. Her son hopped on herp to better listen to the musical performance.

    It isnt. She is indeed the new Bard. Eris yed with her cup. Neferoa wages a personal war against Iremian colonists upying the Fire Inds.

    I had a very important question to ask. Is it true she abducts men into her harem?

    Robin! Marika scolded me and covered Benis ears. Theres a child in the room!

    I wouldnt call it a harem, Eris replied,pletely ignoring the poor mothers remark. More like she has a man and a woman in every port. She loves them and leaves them. Typical Bard behavior.

    A pity the Fire Inds were half a world away. I would have loved to meet Neferoa in the flesh.

    I gave a sideway nce to Soraseo as we carried on with our duo song. Her lips stretched into a smile at the funny tunes, which I considered a victory. She even stopped briefly to sip from a wine cup.

    Soraseo only came to life when she yed music or fought in battle. I had seen here alive in the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>, and crushed with disappointment when Fenrivos proved unable to offer her a decent challenge. The sh of steel kept her blood pumping. I had a n that would satisfy her passion, but it could wait until after our performance.

    If youve visited all the heroes, you must have met Rnd then, ire said with a smirk. Whats your opinion on our Knight prince?

    Hes quite the handsome boy, though a bit too young and nave for my tastes. Eris chuckled at ires shocked expression. Dont be so prudish. One can look at the menu without ordering anything.

    Im beginning to see why you and Robin get along so well, ire replied dryly.

    Colmar, the only one who hadnt drunk anything so far, remained all business. The Fatebinder asked you to visit us all, did she not? he asked Eris, to which she nodded. So what will you do now? Has she given you another task?

    Ill report my findings to Lady Alexios, and deliver to her the Devil Coin that you collected. Eris crossed her legs. Afterwards, I think Lady Alexios will decide how to best support the heroes individual efforts. We are spread too far apart to form a conve, and some of us serve opposing nations. The Priest alone will be a colossal headache for the Arcane Abbey.

    How so? I asked, suddenly curious.

    Eris appeared torn between utter amusement and consternation. Shes a reformist.

    My fingers froze on my biwa, much to Soraseos confusion; as the only one from and where the Arcane Abbey held little sway, she was the only one around the table who hadnt fallen into shocked silence.

    The Priest? A <em>reformist</em>? ire looked utterly in denial. Is that a joke?

    You could call it that, Eris replied with a chuckle. One yed on the Arcane Abbey.

    I agreed. The Fatebinder, who selected the heroes, led the Arcane Abbey. To have the Priestthe hero closest to the artifactsoppose the orthodoxy on religious grounds would rock the institution to its very foundations. I struggled to imagine which side the goddess would pick.

    It it wont start a holy war of some kind, right? Marika kept one hand on her sons shoulder and another on her cup; she clearly struggled against the urge to drown her worries. I dont think we can spare one right now.

    Theres trouble brewing <em>everywhere</em>, Marika my dear, Eris replied with a shrug. There have never been so many Devil Coins in cirction at a given time before, which means the Demon Ancestors are actively recruiting new servants. I suspect their involvement in the Irem-Fire Inds conflict and a few others across the continent.

    The Knots are everywhere, I muttered Fenrivos words. Why do they call us false heroes?

    Because demons lie, Soraseo replied gruffly. Thats what they do.

    But Belgoroth showed us a mark on his hand, I insisted. A sword of fire.

    A mark? Strange. Eris stroked her chin, her gaze hardening. I will refer this to the Fatebinder. Lady Alexios is the true expert on everything rted to heroes.

    Her answer annoyed Colmar. Is the Fatebinder withholding information from us? His tone remained calm, but he did not hide his skepticism. How can we fight a threat to the best of our abilities if we do notpletely understand it?

    Eris shrugged. You have seen what happened to that tavern. The Blight youve contained is but a taste of what awaits our world if the Demon Ancestors have their way.

    You are evading the subject, Colmar pointed out. I understand that demons will spread death and destruction, but the more we know about them, the easier our task.

    You are quite wrong, Colmar. Eris sipped from her cup. The less people are aware of the Demon Ancestors secrets and full capabilities, the weaker they be.

    Her words confused me, but Marika appeared to grasp their meanings. A Blight she muttered. They function like the Blights?

    In a way. Eris nodded sharply. Robin is correct to intuit a link between the heroes marks and the Demon Ancestors, for both work simrly. They both draw essence from wishes and prayers directed at them.

    I remembered the times my mark glowed, infusing me with power and protecting my mind from the berserk mes corruption. I suddenly realized those had been essence infusions. Wait, wait, I said while examining my mark. Are you saying I am only the Merchant because people believe the ss exists?

    Erisughed at me as if I were an idiot. No, of course not. The sses are a gift from the goddess herself. They function independently from mankinds thoughts and desires. She grinned ear to ear. However, the more people believe that the heroes will save them, the more essence the marks can draw from in a pinch to receive an extra boost.

    But so can the demons, Soraseo guessed.

    Exactly, Eris confirmed. Belgoroth would remain dangerous even if everyone on Pangeal were to forget his existence, but his power has be intrinsically linked to the concepts of wrath, vengeance, and fury over time. Belgoroths cult works so hard to spread hate and misery because they fuel his berserk me. Sharing his true name around also unwittingly directs essence his way.

    In short, the more cultists spread evil in the Demon Ancestors name, the more essence they redirected towards their masters, who could then use the extra power to pull stunts like fueling a Blight in the middle of a city.

    So thats why only inquisitors are allowed to learn Belgoroths name, Marika whispered to herself. If it bes widespread, cultists will have an easier time channeling essence towards him.

    Colmar remained unconvinced. That does not exin why the Arcane Abbey simply didnt erase the Demon Ancestors from history, if only to weaken them.

    The Demon Ancestors cannot be in permanently, or at least not through any way avable to the heroes who originally sealed them, Eris exined. In the difficult times that followed the Sunderwar, the Arcane Abbey tried many things to keep the Demon Ancestors permanently entombed. After a few experiments, the first Fatebinder and her sessors found a novel solution: seals that would strengthen the more mankind loathed and feared its prisoners.

    So thats what you meant back then, I whispered to myself upon reminiscing about my first meeting with Eris. The Demon Ancestors escaped because mankind has forgotten why they should fear them.

    By vilifying the Demon Ancestors as nameless evils to be feared and fought, the Arcane Abbey reduced the flow of essence directed their way while strengthening the seals binding them and the heroes meant to oppose them. Quite clever.

    Eris nodded sharply. When everyone on Pangeal believed that the Demon Ancestors were a hateful evil firmly contained by the first heroes, it became true for seven hundred years. Unfortunately, so much time has passed since the Sunderwar that many forgot the threat the Demon Ancestors represent. It reduced the essence they could draw from

    But it also weakened their prisons, Marika guessed, her eyebrows furrowing. Enough that they could break out on their own.

    ire hung back in her chair. That must be why Belgoroths servants are pulling these stunts. Theyre trying to return their hate-starved master to full strength.

    I remain skeptical, Colmar said. Why wont the Fatebinder tell us heroes everything? We would not share confidential information.

    Im not sure all heroes would have that restraint, Eris admitted. I will speak with Lady Alexios, but I doubt she will listen. She already informed me that she would only tell me as much as required to fulfill my obligations as a hero, and no more.

    I agree with Colmar, I said. Reducing the spread of information on the Demon Ancestors made sense when one considered the essential questions, but something felt fishy about that setup. What part of understanding our enemies would make it difficult for us to fight them?

    I dont know. Eris set her empty cup aside. I can assure you that the Fatebinder has your best interests and those of mankind at heart. If Lady Alexios refuses to share certain secrets, she must have her reasons. Youve seen what kind of evil were fighting against.

    Demons will make a Blight out of the world, Soraseo agreed. She cared more about fighting than discovering the truth.

    I do not question the Fatebinders good intentions, only her judgment, Colmar replied with his arms crossed. Is there no way to convince her to open up?

    You could travel to Mount Erebia to make your case, my dear Colmar; if you can survive the ascent. Eris winked at me. Although If webined our charms, Robin, mayhaps we could mollify Lady Alexios cold dead heart.

    Ive too much work to do here, I replied with a shrug. That Blight wont die on its own.

    Could Lady Alexios help us with it? ire asked. If the Arcane Abbey sent more exorcists to assist Lady Marika

    I will see what strings I can pull, Eris promised before gently stroking ires cheek. But you have to tell me what you and Robin wagered first.

    Isnt that bribery? I teased her while ire blushed once again.

    The goddess helps those who help themselves, Eris quipped. Or something like that.

    Already half-asleep, Beni let out a heavy yawn. Marika scratched his hair gently. Its time to go back to bed, my little prince. When her son looked up at her, Marika let out a sigh. You want another bedtime story? Beni, Im tired

    Oh, let me help, Eris proposed with a mischievous smile. I may not look like it, but Im a master storyteller. Ive spun a thousand tales for twice as many children over the years.

    Marika grinned. I wouldnt mind some help.

    Have you ever heard of the Lion-Knight? Eris asked Beni with a gentle smile. When he shook his head, she whispered to him a bedtime story with a gentle voice. There was once a lonesome knight, stronger than any man and braver than a lion. He was beloved and admired by all for his good deeds; most of all by the princess of the realm, who wished to marry him. s, the knights only love was duty, and no woman couldpare

    Beni fell asleep within minutes, much to Marikas relief. While she went upstairs to put her son back in his room, the rest of us decided to each go our own way. ire returned to the castle on her pegasus back and agreed to meet with me tomorrow at dawn to both deal with tonights fallout and the citys economic development. Colmar excused himself and returned to the citys hospital to treat our wounded. And Soraseo decided to patrol around the <em>Gilded Wolf</em> to confirm our security perimeter would keep its evil contained.

    I will hunt monsters too, Soraseo said on the houses threshold. A Blight is a snake nest. You must smash the eggs before they hatch.

    A wise idea, though I could tell she mostly wanted to vent her nerves on whatever creatures would cross her paths. I doubted she would encounter any monster so early into the Blights development, but it didnt hurt to check.

    Well, we will set up a bed for you upstairs when youe back, I replied. Would you like to train together tomorrow, Soraseo?

    Train, Robin? My proposal appealed to her as much as my music. How so?

    Your power lets you copy physical movements, so if you sell your fighting knowledge to someone, you can quickly recover it, I pointed out. It would help train more guards to contain the Blight. Besides, while I possess skills, tonights brawl showed me I need practical experience too.

    Not just experience, Soraseo said sharply. You need better tools. Your needle can skewer a fish, but it wont cut a dragons head.

    It could, if you infuse it with essence, Eris pointed out. Im surprised you havent asked our dear Marika for advice on the subject. Shes a weapon exorcist. Her job revolves around manipting the essence of des like yours.

    We haven''t had the time to explore that option yet, I admitted. Ill find it.

    I have the happiness to teach you, Robin, Soraseo replied. I will have to leave soon, however.

    She still intended to travel to the Deadgate as soon as she received the authorization. A shame. I hoped a few days of training would at least shake her mind off the heartbreak Belgoroths words sent her spiraling into. Then lets make use of what little time we have.

    Soraseo bade us goodbye with a respectful bow and then left for the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>. Eris watched her walk away with a thoughtful look. You know, Robin, she said once we were alone. Her red armor reminds me of rumors I heard from the Shinkoku. Of a red warrior undefeated in battle. The Blood Blossom, travelers called them.

    You think its Soraseo? If so, I could guess how she earned that nickname. Marika had to exorcise her sword from all the blood it shed.

    I wonder. Eris scratched her cheek. The Blood Blossom was banished from the Shinkoku, or so Ive heard.

    Banished? I frowned. For what?

    I dont know, Eris admitted. But the Shinkoku worships strength. She must havemitted a terrible crime for its citizens to turn their back on her.

    <em>Wallow in your sins, Mother-Killer.</em>

    Soraseo intended to risk her life to apologize to a dead person. I was starting to see the full, ugly picture. Others would have condemned Soraseo for her crime, but she had been a strong ally so far; one willing to challenge a demon head on to save strangers, even after she obtained the letter she desperately sought. Her life story soundedplicated to say the least.

    Anyway, Ill take my leave now. Eris blew me a kiss from afar. Ill return soon, I swear.

    I could take you on a date when you return, I teased her. I own this city now. I could show you the sights.

    Mayhaps, she teased me back with a yful grin. Youre fun, Robin, but dont expect to tie down the Wanderer.

    Still a better pick than the Assassin, I mused before crossing my arms. Who are they anyway? Did they truly massacre Ermelines nobility?

    Now now, do you take me for a gossip, Robin? How would you react if I shared your name with every hero under the sun? Eris put a hand on her waist. A few heroes like Neferoa seek to share word of their deeds, because they bask in the sunlight and wish to push an agenda. Others thrive in the shadows. The Assassin works best when no one sees theming.

    Fair point, I replied with a shrug. I was just curious.

    But dont torture yourself too much, Robin. I have the feeling that the Assassin will pay you a visit soon.

    I chuckled. Sounds ominous.

    Eris grin widened further. You asked for it, no?

    My smirk faded away. Whats that supposed to mean?

    My poor Merchant. Eris winked mischievously at me, as if I were the butt of a particrly funny joke. See you soon, Robin. Well meet again.

    That teasing nun vanished in a puff of smoke without borating. I watched the wind carry the leftover fumes away with a single thought on my mind.

    I need a girlfriend, I muttered to myself. Celibacy is driving me mad.

    I returned inside to find Marika waiting for me, alongside the wine. Beni fell asleep, she said before offering me a cup. Another one for the ride?

    Sure. I observed Marikas hand as she poured the drinks. Her usually steady fingers trembled at the edge. Something bothered her. At least Colmar left us his share.

    Marika scowled. He doesnt breathe.

    I mulled over her words a moment, before sitting and sipping my wine.

    I sat next to Colmar for a good hour and didnt hear a single wheeze. Marika stared at her reflection in the drink. Ive never seen him go to the bathroom, drink, or eat. What exactly is he hiding under his mask?

    Maybe nothing, I said. Ive had my suspicions for a while now. The mark appeared on his suit, which implies its part of his body somehow.

    Marika squinted at me. You think he could be what, a living suit?

    I wondered about the living part, truthfully. Mayhaps he will tell us in time.

    Why are you so calm about it?

    Because he works around the clock to treat the sick and wounded. Colmar could only spare us an hour for the meeting before returning to his work, after all. Most impressively, he never charged anyone anything. When I offered him a sry, he replied that he only epted donations to fund his activities. Otherwise, he keeps nothing for himself.

    Marika raised an eyebrow. You believe him?

    Yes. The mark wouldnt have chosen him otherwise. My vision started to blur a bit from the wine. I wish Snowdrift had an apothecary of his caliber when the Purple gue struck.

    If so, my parents might still be alive.

    Marika didnt look convinced. He could be hiding something bad, she said while gripping her cup. You never know.

    Im curious about Colmars true nature, but he is entitled to his privacy. His actions earned him my goodwill so far. Perhaps it was the alcohol at work, but I couldnt hold my tongue anymore. Marika, whats bothering you?

    Marika grabbed the heart-shaped wood pendant hanging from her neckline and studied it in sullen silence. When I approached to observe it more closely, I noticed the letters W and M stylishly carved on its surface.

    My husband sculpted this, Marika exined, her voice low and filled with sorrow. When he when he left, I kept it. I should have thrown it away but I couldnt. I dont understand why.

    I remained silent and let her vent. What she needed most now was a listening ear who wouldnt judge her.

    Remember the axe Fenrivos tried to kill us with? Marika asked me. I nodded. My husband forged it.

    Are you sure?

    Im certain. I would recognize his handiwork anywhere. Marikas scowl deepened into a look of utter hatred. He serves Belgoroth now.

    I thought Marika was a widow, and from her expression I hadnt missed the mark too much. Her husband was dead to her. Im sorry.

    Why? You didnt do anything. While while he lied to me, cheated on me, attacked me, saddled me with mountains of debts, and Marikas hand trembled as she gripped her ne. He he

    <em>Shes afraid</em>, I realized. Its okay, Marika. I seized her hand into my own and squeezed it tightly. Hes not here. No one can hurt you.

    Marika pulled back her hand immediately, as if startled. I immediately realized I had made a mistake. I was a touchy-feely kind of man, who liked to hug his friends when they felt down; but <em>she </em>didnt feel thatfortable around me yet.

    Youre sweet, Robin. Marika held her cup with two hands, gazing back at her reflection in the liquid. What she hoped to find in it escaped me. But its not for me that I worry.

    Beni. She feared for her sons safety. I almost asked Marika if his father would truly hurt him, before quickly realizing that from her dour expression, he already had. I remembered how skittish Beni appeared on the boat, always looking over his shoulder as if expecting an ambush.

    <em>His own son</em> I struggled to hide my distaste for the man, whatever his name might be. I also pitied Marika. She had clearly gone through a lot.

    If any foe dares to approach within a league of Benicio, hell pay for it with his life, I tried to reassure her. Youre a hero in Archfrosts employ. Ill have guards keep an eye on Beni at all times.

    Im not sure itll be enough. Marika sighed. Youve seen the demon in the tavern. I dont think guards could do anything to stop one if it came after my son.

    We killed that fiend, did we not? I smiled at her. Smiles were like a good gue. The more you shared one, the stronger it became. You arent on your own anymore. Weve got your back.

    Marika listened with rapt attention. I could tell she wanted to believe in my words the way I did. After all, in every cynicy a disappointed idealist.

    "Robin, I I''m sorry to ask you this, but" Marika cleared her throat and chose her words carefully. "Do you think you could take Beni''s fears? His his suffering?"

    I could buy his trauma, yes. I could, but should I? Im not sure it would be healthy for him, however. I dont know what traumatized him, but taking that away might be the spiritual equivalent of sawing off his arm. He wont suffer from the pain, but it will leave a hole that he might never truly heal from either. I''d need further testing before we can consider it. For safety''s sake.

    From her crestfallen expression, Marika expected as much. "I just want to hear him speak to me again, Robin," she admitted. "Beni has such a wonderful voice."

    "Give him time. Time heals all wounds."

    I suppose it does. Marika smiled sadly. "Sorry I rambled so much, Robin.

    "Everyone needs to vent once in a while." Especially someone who had fought demons, both the human and inhuman kind. "If you listen to meining about my work, we''ll call it even."

    Anytime, Robin. Marika struggled to change the subject, but alcohol helped. Are you and Eris you know

    Sharing a toothbrush? I quipped. No, much to my displeasure.

    ire then?

    My goddess, she was almost as much of a gossip as Eris when inebriated; she just hid it behind a veneer of maturity. Nope.

    I think you may have a shot, Marika teased me. If you stop acting so immature with her.

    <em>Never</em>. I simply had too much fun teasing our countess-to-be.

    Marika scoffed before finishing her drink. Your loss.

    Since it was gettingte, we set the table aside and climbed upstairs. Ourmon living spacescked decoration and amenitieswe just moved in after allthough I already had ideas on how to fill the rooms.

    Thanks for listening to me, Robin, Marika said on her bedroom''s threshold. "I appreciate it."

    Youre wee. Were friends, are we not?

    Were getting there, Marika replied with a chuckle. Good night, Robin.

    She closed her door on me, and I returned to my room: a sparse set of walls holding a single bed, with a set of windows giving an impable view of the port. I moved to it, trying to look in the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>s direction.

    ording to Marika, the Blight would swallow Snowdrift in months unless stopped. Which meant that we had less than a year to turn this depressed den of poverty into a prosperous city which people actually wanted to live in. Not the best odds.

    But I loved challenges.

    Youll watch me douse your me, Belgoroth, I promised. Just wait.

 Chapter Nine: The Black Countess

    Chapter Nine: The ck Countess

    ire and I spent the morning interrogating our captives.

    I attempted a novel method to fish information out of people: buying their memories of their crimes so I could remember them myself. Those who would ept were promised lighter sentences, while those who refused still tacitly admitted that they had something to hide. I expected it to greatly shorten the interrogation process.

    I changed my mind when I bought a vers memories.

    A rush of pictures and sound flooded my mind the moment we signed the deal. I stood atop a ships deck under cold rain and descended into its hold, looking for warmth. There was a girl in my cabin, a petite woman with straw-colored hair and big blue eyes staring at me with dread. Ropes kept her tied to the bed. Her face seemed to change to ice when my hands reached for her pretty neck, her shallow breath filling me with the darkest kind of joy. I grabbed her and

    Argh! My scream echoed throughout the cell. I held my head, trying to extirpate that horrible scene from my skull. Not only for what it showed, but what it made me <em>feel</em>. Agh!

    Robin?! ire rushed to my side and shook me like a tree. Robin, do you hear me?!

    Take it back! I snarled at the prisoner while holding my head. Take it all back!

    I forgot what I saw when I sold the memory back, but the pain of the experience remained vivid. It took me minutes to recover, my forehead sweating from the mental exhaustion. I had epted evil into my mind, one so rotten that it put a strain on my very soul. ire awkwardly gave me a cup of herbal tea that soothed the pain away.

    I felt it I informed ire, my breath short and shallow. His joy his cruelty for a second, I <em>shared </em>them.

    I felt like I had been infected. <em>Vited</em>.

    Gathering skills didnt affect me mentally because they rarely carried any emotion with them. True memories were different. A persons mind was the sum of their memories. They shaped their thoughts, their experience, and their very identity. If I took someones memories, I became a little less of myself.

    I would have to be very precise about separating feelings from information in the future. I didnt want to get back in a situation where I would have to beg a ver to cancel a deal. Or worse, find myself permanently saddled with terrible urges.

    ire nodded gravely, as if she understood my pain. It warmed my heart. I wont have you harm yourself, Robin, she said kindly. How about we instead buy the knowledge of their crimes as a package deal with a piece of paper? This should create detailed, written confessions.

    Yeah, good idea I whispered. Lets try that.

    ires method proved quite effective at forming written memory records and mapping out Fenrivoswork. The demon had enjoyed the support of many investors among the citys remaining merchant ss and disreputable people, though not all of them knew about the underground arena. Those who did were more often than not mere crooks or unscrupulous individuals looking for a quick buck. Not a single one of them knew they were working for a demon, which made sense. Even the worst scum on earth would rather avoid turning their turf into a blighted wastnd.

    Still, a good quarter of the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>s investors and employees either participated in Fenrivos ve trade or passively benefited from it. A few members of the Trade Guild and port officials also epted bribes to look the other way.

    We should behead them all, ire dered on our way out of the castles jail, her fists clenching. The news that a few members of the city watch coborated with Fenrivoswork left her fuming. Shaving thirty years off their miserable lives feels too lenient.

    I confess Im tempted too. These crooks corruption and carelessness nearly caused Snowdrifts destruction. And the horrors some of them confessed made me want to puke. On the bright side, weve got many new job openings and twenty more skill vests on the way. Selling ill-gotten assets will help us fund the Frostfox Company too.

    ire rolled her eyes. That name is terrible, Robin.

    You can only me yourself for calling me a fox too many times, I teased her. A few jokes would help me wash away the memory of the countless infractions wed heard today. Even Belgoroth boarded that ship. A greedy fox, he called me.

    A Demon Ancestors scorn doesnt make for a glowing endorsement. ire squinted at me. I also cant help but notice you intend to give yourself a controlling interest in thepany too.

    Arent my powers invaluable? I pointed out. I had to put a price on all the skill-granting items I created.

    Skills extracted from <em>our </em>citizens.

    You delivered the raw material, but I worked hard to climb the valuedder by making the finished product. It was an investment. We started climbing the stairs leading up to Count Brynslows chamber, since ire wanted to check on her grandfather before the council meeting. Between us, I hope to expand thepany beyond Snowdrift after revitalizing it. The purple gue devastated too many cities beyond this one.

    ire stopped halfway through the stone steps, her eyebrows furrowing at me. You intend to leave Snowdrift?

    After saving it. I first came to disperse my parents ashes and start anew. The former was done, and the Blight situation put thetter on hold. Before the whole demon fiasco, I intended to start an import-exportpany. To transport goods from one corner of Pangeal to another.

    A good n for one who wants to see the world. ire observed me carefully. Did you have a destination in mind?

    Ive always wanted to visit the Fire Inds one day, I replied, much to ires displeasure. Not to meet with Neferoa, mind you. In her second tome of <em>Wondrous Journeys</em>, Danie Dane called them the goddess crown jewel

    <em>For its forests shine like emeralds and its waters glitter like sapphires</em>, ire quoted the book with a bright smile. Ive read it too.

    Oh? I raised an eyebrow. Call me surprised. I didnt take you for the reading type.

    You assumed wrong. I spent half my childhood in a convents library. ire shrugged as we continued our ascent to the castles higher floors. I hope for you the truth will live up to the tales.

    <em>Because I wont be able to check myself,</em> was left unsaid.

    An awkward silence settled between us andsted until we reached the Counts apartments. We met Florence of Arcadia there. The apothecary oversaw her sleeping patient with a mother hens care, though I noticed all her herbal pouches were packed and ready for travel.

    Lady ire, Lord Robin. Florence weed us with a warm smile. He just fell asleep again.

    Florence, ire greeted the apothecary. How is my grandfather?

    His periods of awakeningst longer, Florence replied calmly. Thatdy radiated a soothing aura, much like my deceased mother. All we can do for now is let him rest. Colmar agreed to oversee his recovery in my absence.

    Your absence? I frowned. Youre leaving us?

    I feel my job here is done, Florence confirmed with a short nod. As a traveling apothecary, I must get back on the road. Too many viges need my assistance, and they dont have Count Brynslows resources to count on.

    I understood that all too well. While towns and cities could afford full-time healers, smallermunities relied on traveling apothecaries to buy from potions or receive treatments.

    ire scowled at the news. I know your position, Florence, but I would rather have you at our side. You have been my grandfathers favorite healer for years. He trusts you.

    You are too kind, ire, Florence replied with a chuckle. You give me too much credit. It is Lord Robin you should thank. He did most of the work.

    You kept him alive long enough for me to arrive, did you not? I reminded her. Dont sell yourself short, Florence. When troubles knock on the door, people like you make all the difference.

    I like to think so, she replied modestly. Even heroes need help now and then.

    Youre wee to call for mine anytime. I offered my hand. If you require any form of assistance, or financial support for your activities, you only need to ask.

    I will keep it in mind. Florence shook my hand warmly. I shall watch your progress with great interest, Lord Robin.

    I shall miss you, Florence, ire confessed. I will have a guard escort you outside the city.

    Florence chuckled lightly. My dear, I do not deserve such attention.

    I insist, the streets arent safe nowadays. ire smiled warmly. Take care of yourself, Florence.

    The apothecary epted the escort with grace. As I watched her and the guard walk away, I somehow had the feeling we would meet again one day.

    ire took Florences seat next to her grandfather and held his hand in her own. She listened to his soft heartbeat and breathing, her eyes desperately waiting for his own to open again.

    Am I selfish to say I cant wait for him to take back his post? ire asked me.

    Youre doing fine so far, I replied.

    Are you joking? ire scoffed. A Blight nearly consumed the city on my watch.

    That cancer grew years before you became the acting countess, and you helped stop it nheless. I gave her a pat on the shoulder. Youre putting too much pressure on yourself. Well turn the situation around.

    My words failed to reach ire. If anything, she bristled at them. Easy for you to say, Robin, she said with a dark look. Your ss power lets you do more for my city in days than what I could do for it in years.

    Damn it, I had only seeded in making her feel jealous. I wont deny that being the Merchant is a great boon, I argued. But the city watch followed you into a literal hellhole. Youre the one who led the evacuation, remember?

    Youre wrong, Robin. My men didnt follow me. ire stared at the count with a nk expression. They followed his granddaughter.

    ire, I didnt mean

    I know. ire sighed, and then kissed her sleeping grandfathers forehead. I know you mean well, Robin. I wish I could take things as lightly as you do.

    And <em>I</em> wished I knew how to lighten her mood.

    Afterward, we finally rejoined the council room. Therese was already present, alongside Marika, Colmar, and Lady Freygradwho represented the citys various guilds. I was d to learn she wasnt involved in Fenrivos activities.

    Thank you foring today, everyone, I said as ire and I took our seats at the table. I want to personally thank you for attending this first assembly of the Frostfox Companys shareholders and associates.

    Therese chuckled to herself. I have mixed feelings about that name.

    The name matters less than the vision, Lady Freygrad replied. She briefly rose from her seat to shake my hand. To think I helped the Merchant himself settle in our fair city. Truly, I feel blessed.

    I see that Therese briefed you on our identities. I returned the handshake. I have high hopes for what we might achieve together.

    Should I be here? Marika asked. She appeared a little overwhelmed. I usually let someone else deal with everything business-rted.

    I looked into her eyes. Did it work out?

    Her gaze instantly hardened. No.

    Hence why I want you onboard, I replied. As a key pir of this organization, your insight will be invaluable. The more viewpoints we have, the less narrow our vision.

    Wise words, Robin, Colmar said. However, I must inform you that I am only interested in public health and safety. Money-making activities do not concern me.

    They should. I joined my hands. A coin well-invested will help keep the Blight away.

    Lady Freygrad paled a bit when I mentioned the disaster on our hands. Speaking of the Blight, what is the current situation?

    Stable, for now, Marika replied. The Witchcrafter Guild set up seals around the perimeter and Soraseo is keeping an eye on them as we speak. So long as they hold, we can check the Blights growth, or at least slow it down.

    Which will make them a target for Belgoroths cultists, ire said with a grim look. That ce will cause us many headaches.

    Lady Freygrad nodded grimly. It will also encourage people to flee the region and frighten merchants away. A Blight doesnt scream prosperity to visitors. Neither can we hide its existence.

    We need to reassure the public, Therese confirmed, her eyes wandering to me. I think you already know how, Robin.

    I nodded sharply. I will make my presence in the city official.

    Are you certain? ire asked me. You swore us to silence the first time we met.

    I dont see any other way to reassure the public about the Blight and encourage investors toe, I replied. My predecessors were famous mainly for one thing: conjuring wealth out of thin air and bringing prosperity to thends they visited. Having a wielder of one of the Seven Great sses will assuage our citizens fears.

    The Knots already know where we are, Colmar said. If we can no longer hide from our enemies, what do we have to lose?

    Our discretion, I replied. Revealing our presence meant gaining Prince Rnds attention and that of many of Archfrosts power yers. It means ying the game of politics.

    Therese smiled thinly. You already are, Robin.

    I know, hence why I agreed to go public. I nced at my fellow heroes. What about you?

    Colmar shrugged his shoulders, since he never cared for anonymity in the first ce. Marika remained on the fence. I worry for my son, she said with a sigh. But Colmar has a point. The people I wanted to avoid have already learned our location.

    She was resigned to seeing her ex-husband knocking on her door again. I swore to myself never to let him within a league of Marika or Beni.

    Then its settled, I said. The Frostfox Company is now a heroespany. And together, well save Snowdrift from the evil thats infested it.

    Though not all shared my confidenceMarika and ire least of allthey all weed my words with nods. Whatever mighte, we will try our best.

    After reviewing all avable information, tax reports, and administrative documents with Therese, I have devised a n to develop the city, I exined while distributing scroll drafts of my various proposals. One that revolves around four objectives: putting thend to work; improving our poption; strengthening trade; and improving infrastructure. I would like to discuss each of them with you and see how our powers might improve upon them.

    I had to thank all of my umted skills for helping to create this n. By now, I had absorbed the knowledge of merchants, poachers, scribes, and administrators. Together, all these tidbits of information helped me gain arger vision of the situation. My skills formed connections that escaped specialists.

    For example, a thoughtful analysis of the region made me realize that Snowdrift possessed three geographic advantages. First of all, it was located on a riverway connecting Archfrost to the Rivend Federation, and by extension, the western nations. The fact it had be a medium-sized city rather than a bustling trading post spoke volumes about the various troubles Snowdrift went through. I hoped to turn the tide.

    Second, Snowdrifts region provided plenty of raw material to exploit. The city was originally founded to extract iron for tool and weapon production. The nearby hills housed plenty of it, alongside copper, pewter, salt, flint, stone, and even a little bit of silver. The forests were rich in timber too.

    Finally, thend was suitable for farming and grazing in spite of Archfrost''s unforgiving climate. Farmers in the region cultivated crops like barley, turnips, beans, cabbages, apples, x They raised sheep for their wool and ughtered cattle for the meat, alongside pigs, goats, and even bees.

    However, Snowdrift faced heavy limitations. The poption crumbled after the purple gue and civil war, and the cold climate limited food production. Wecked enough farmers to work on thend, which in turn meant we couldnt set aside enough crops to sustain neers. This created a bottleneck limiting poption growth. Fewer people meant less dynamism in the economy and lower tax revenues for public coffers.

    We need to fully exploit thend we have if we are to break this vicious cycle, I dered as my fellow associates reviewed the documents. Either by inviting new farmers to settle it or improving our soil.

    Weve already tried to encourage immigration by selling away abandonednd cheaply or through tax exemptions, Lady Freygrad reminded me. Unfortunately, we only had limited sess. All of Archfrost is facing post-purple gue worker shortages. We had some luck attracting settlers from the Rivend Federation, but that well is running dry.

    How about looking for settlers from beyond Archfrosts neighbors? Therese suggested. The Everbright Empire and Stonnds have no shortage of downtrodden people looking for work.

    Both are many leagues away from Snowdrift, Lady Therese, Freygrad replied. We would need to send professional recruiters, which doesnte cheap.

    Im fine paying ten recruiters a year if it means bringing in a hundred more volunteers, I said. We need to attract new workers. Not only farmers, but craftsmen, shipbuilders, and artisans.

    Examining Snowdrifts tax reports had proven enlightening. The Brynslow administration currently ruled around fifty-thousand people; thirteen thousand in the city itselftwo-thirds of its historical peakand the rest in the surrounding viges, farms, and outskirts. Each of them earned around three to five gold coins a year on average, a tenth of which ended up making its way to the nobility in taxes alongside tariffs from the port.

    As a result, the Brynslow administration earned roughly twenty-thousand gold a year in revenues; a rather modest amount. Duke Ermelines estate earned over ten times that sum. Count Brynslow was a frugal lord who made sure to secure at least a fifth of his yearly revenues in a war chest for troubled times. His cautiousness probably slowed down Snowdrifts recovery, but the treasury now held a good fifty-thousand gold coins in emergency reserves.

    We could afford to fund a few bold initiatives.

    Therese put forward a scroll on the table. On the question of food production, I may have found a solution. A four-field crop rotation system.

    ire squinted upon seeing the document. Is that a tax report?

    Farmers around Snowdrift mostly pay their taxes in crops, Therese exined. One of them consistently produces a far greater yield than his neighbors. I paid him a visit and he exined to me he had developed a novel cultivation method.

    Is that so? I read the document in-depth. From what I see, he alternates between four crops on the same terrain: wheat in the first year, turnips in the second, clover on the third, and barley in the fourth.

    Oh, I see how it works. Colmar nodded to himself. How clever.

    Im a bit lost, Marika admitted.

    Its very simple. Colmar joined his hands before beginning an agriculture lecture. Wheat is an excellent source of food, but depletes nutrients in the soil. Turnips can grow in winter and possess roots that improve soil structure. Clovers, meanwhile, help replenish nutrients in the earth and can be used to feed livestock. Since the soil has regenerated, this in turn improves barley yields.

    And barley can be used for fodder, beer, and bread, I said, calling upon some of the knowledge I bought from farmers. If we encouraged farmers around Snowdrift to apply this system, we could increase our production.

    But this system takes four years to set up, ire replied with skepticism. Well be lucky to have one before the Blight consumes the city.

    It will still show people that we see in the long-term, and thus reassure them, Lady Freygrad replied. Even in the short-term, encouraging grain production would help us feed the poption at a lower price.

    Moreover, I believe Robins power could help us elerate food production, Colmar said. Lady Brynslow all of thend around Snowdrift should technically belong to you, am I wrong?

    They belong to the Brynslow estate, yes. ires eyes widened. You want to imbue thend with specific properties?

    If weck the poption required to farm the entire region, we could instead move soil quality and nutrients around, Colmar confirmed. Robin could buy those from areas meant for mining or non-food rted production, and then sell them to enrich areas.

    His idea had merits. By working with ire, I could reshuffle nutrients from unexploited areas to those we could cultivate within the year. Once we had enough farmers to settle thend, I could then redistribute soil quality more evenly.

    Come to think of it, I wondered how nts would interact with my abilities. If I used a sale to infuse a tree with a skill, would anyone eating its fruits benefit from it? Would selling years alongside an apple tree stop its growth? Would buying it make it grow old like the convicted criminals? I needed to find the time to experiment further.

    Can your power improve soil quality, Colmar? I asked my fellow hero.

    He nodded curtly. I believe so. Ive studied the effect of some sulfate minerals on nt growth in order to cultivate medical herbs. Large scale applications could improve food quantity and quality.

    Marika raised an eyebrow at Colmar. I did not expect you to know so much about agriculture.

    Health begins with food and ends with remedies, Colmar replied. Well-fed individuals resist diseases better than starved ones.

    Marika curtly nodded. She still distrusted her fellow hero, but his knowledge and acts spoke for themselves.

    Weve also experimented with another way to develop food, ire said, ncing at the rooms window. ss gardens protect herbs and nts from the cold. We couldmission more of them to grow crops.

    Good ss costs its weight in gold, ire, Therese pointed out. We must import it from the Rivend Federation at a high price. This limits our options.

    I see a cheaper alternative. I pointed at my fellow heroes. With Colmar turning stone to ss and Marikas power to assemble it into specific shapes, we can easily create ss gardens in quick session.

    Its just building houses of ss and steel, am I right? Marika smiled ear to ear. That shouldnt be too hard.

    Between the soil-enrichment n, the homestead recruitment, and the creation of ss gardens, I believed we could quickly multiply food production; not only for humans, but cattle and other animals too.

    The rest of thend would be put to work in order to capitalize on our existing advantages in wool and timber. This meant encouraging carpentry by building sawmills along the river, granting tax exemptions to woodworkers, and clearingnd for grazing.

    The Rivend Federation is wealthy, I dered. The best way for us to develop is for us to move their coins into our pockets, and for that, we need to rise up the valuedder.

    Agreed. Freygrad nodded in assent. For now, we mostly export wool to the Rivend Federation, who then process it into clothes that they sell back for a profit. If we had experienced craftsmen to simply produce textiles ourselves, we could undercut our neighbors prices and sell our goods in Tradewind. Our cksmiths would also benefit from diversifying our metalworking. We can only sell so many swords and shields to Stonegarde.

    Marika sighed. Even I know that theres more business to make in tes and horseshoes than weapons.

    This joins up with the second pir I wished to discuss, I said. Improving our poptions skills. Weve already started doing that by loaning my specially-made magical clothes to key recruits. The more cksmiths and craftsmen we can train, the more products we can offer.

    We could also use recruiters to bring in retired specialists from abroad willing to trade their skills for an easy retirement, Therese suggested. With time, we could develop a treasure trove of skill-granting clothes.

    The city would benefit from free schools too, Colmar said. Spreading knowledge to the young will improve their lives in the long term.

    I concurred. The cost of education meant that fewmoners knew how to read and write. Not only would free schooling help the poor rise up the socialdder, but it would let us train future scribes, administrators, and traders.

    Therese remained skeptical. I do not think we possess the infrastructure for that yet. However, the Arcane Abbeys priests already offer schooling to gifted children looking to join the faith. We could ask them to ept more students, but I am not certain that they will ept.

    Their role is to assist heroes, I reminded her. I dont see how they could refuse if the requestes from us.

    ire snorted. If the bishops dy, we will threaten to remove their tax exemptions. That should force them to hurry up.

    ire! Therese chuckled at her friends boldness. The first king of Archfrost granted them that exemption almost three hundred years ago!

    And he has been dead for two hundred and half, ire replied with a shrug. My city will die before next winter if we do nothing. Now is not the time to haggle, Therese, even with the Arcane Abbey.

    I agreed with her. It still irked me that Archfrosts churches did not pay a single copper to the state. The Arcane Abbey had grown quite wealthy over the centuries, and though it did provide services to the poor and the needy, the state needed more schools than cathedrals. That kind of privilege was what fed the Reformist movement.

    Next, we discussed how to boost trade. Lady Freygrad suggested a set of aggressive proposals to undercut rivals: reducing harbor tariffs and production tolls to next to nothing, providing incredibly cheap warehouse services by repurposing abandoned houses, establishing regr market fairs, and expanding the Trade Guilds activities into a marketing and purchasing cooperative.

    My idea would be to negotiate the purchase of raw material in bulk for as low a price as possible, Lady Freygrad exined. If we consolidate our bargaining power into a single entity, we can obtain better deals from our trading partners. Lord Colmars power would be a great boon for production if he can produce more metal for us to shape.

    At the risk of repeating myself, I am not interested in money-making activities that do not contribute to public health, Colmar stubbornly insisted. My goal is to save lives, not make better tes.

    Lady Freygrad took it in stride. How about construction material then? We could use them to build better homes for our workers or hospitals.

    Her proposal mollified Colmar. I am fine with that.

    I paid close attention to ire as Freygrad outlined her measures. The heiress lips strained a bit. She understood as well as I did that epting all these proposals would fiercely cut down her administrations revenues, maybe even send it spiraling into the red. A more conservative lord would have argued and haggled, even with the stakes at hand.

    Instead, ire suggested going above and beyond. We should remain mindful of security, she suggested. Lowering tariffs so much might attract unwee individuals, and weve let criminals run around for far too long. No merchant will feel safe in a city like ours without better protection.

    Hiring more guards always helps traders feel safer, Therese concurred. Lady Soraseo could help train them.

    I had thought the same. Since Soraseos power let her easily copy physical skills, she could quickly sell and relearn them in short order. I knew my favorite Monk wouldnt stay with us for long, but she could easily train an elite squad of guards within days.

    I will also purchase our recruits ability to lie until the end of their service, I suggested. This should reduce the risk of corruption, if not eliminate it entirely. Giving them a higher pay would also discourage shakedown attempts.

    Let us do that. ire folded her hands and turned to face me. What about your skill bank?

    I chuckled. The Frostfox Company will be far more than that.

    First of all, it would begin with roughly thirty-thousand gold coins as starting capital. Half of it woulde from the Brynslow administrations war chest, the rest from confiscated assets taken from criminals associated with Fenrivos very ring, private investments from merchants, funds from the Trade Guild, and so on.

    My goal was twofold: first, thepany would act as a bank loaning money to would-be entrepreneurs, alongside the necessary skills to ensure their sess. Wealth hoarded in underground crypts was nothing more than sleeping dragon eggs. Coins needed to move around to breed ande back to the nest with hatchlings.

    Second, it would directly support long-distance trade in partnership with the citys guilds. I would do that by helping stabilize prices. When prices of raw material, goods, and metalwork declined to the point that they threatened profitability, the Frostfox Company would buy up the surplus to maintain ies. When prices rose again and threatened exportability, I would sell off the stockpile for a profit.

    However, for this strategy to work, we need to efficiently move goods around beyond the city. I pointed at another part of my document. Which brings me to the fourth pir of our strategy: developing our infrastructure. Especially roads and our navy. ording to Thereses reports, the former is in a pitiful state and thetter needs more ships.

    I know. ire sighed. With the purple gue, most roads except for the Stonegarde-Snowdrift axis have fallen into disrepair fromck of maintenance.

    I can confirm that, Colmarined. I almost fell in two different holes on my way to this city from Whitethrone, and I had to take a detour to avoid a copsed bridge.

    And since Whitethrone was Archfrosts capital, that said a <em>lot</em>. We need to improve the roads leading to the closest cities, mines, and farms, I said. It would speed up the flow of merchandise, not to mention people.

    Marika crossed her arms. Building roads isnt cheap, Robin. Even my power cant help much with them, though I can likely repair bridges.

    I didnt intend to have you pave roads, I replied. Instead, I suggest we hire people at the treasurys expense. Construction projects would provide jobs and encourage spending.

    Construction projects will burn through our budget, Therese pointed out.

    A full treasury wont keep the Blight away. ire sighed as she signed on with the proposal. If this fails If this fails, well have to rue debts to stay afloat. And make sacrifices. Without the citys revenues, we wont be able to cover the funds lost this year.

    We cannot fail, I pointed out. And once we seed, the long-term increased revenues should more than make up for short-term losses.

    I noticed Marika sending me a worried nce at the edge of my vision, though she didnt say a word. I suddenly realized her husband probably said the same thing before driving her into spiraling debt.

    Well be careful to stay afloat, I reassured everyone. Well only spend a coin if it brings in a sibling.

    I pray to the goddess you are right, Robin. ire reread my proposal. As for the navy problem, I assume you want to restore the citys shipyards?

    We need arger merchant navy to transport goods to the Rivend Federation and beyond, I confirmed. I asked Marika to see if her power could quicken the process.

    Thats my time to shine, Marika said with a smile. Ive put on a set of shipwright''s clothing you made. With its knowledge guiding my power, enough material, and a team of helpers, Im confident I could build a galley per day if I worked on it full time.

    I gasped at the number, alongside half the people around the table. Lady Freygrad stared at Marika in utter disbelief. Thats impossible! she all but shouted. It takes a year to build a ship that size!

    My power tells me otherwise. Marika chuckled. However, I think Ill have to stick to the same design to keep up with that production pace best. The moreponents I add to an item, the more my power goes off-script if not focused.

    Her answer brought augh from me. Will you try fusing a castle with a carriage, as you suggested once? Im curious what the result would be.

    That depends. Marika nced at ire with mischief in her eyes. Can I try with this one?

    Ill pass, ire replied, though not without a hint of amusement in her voice. The ck Keep has no need for wheels.

    Where would it go? Therese mused. This is wonderful news, Lady Marika. A merchant fleet would greatly improve the transport of goods across the rivers.

    Ill still need the help of Witchcrafters to infuse the vessels with iron essence, Marika warned. Otherwise, the icy waters will make mincemeat of them.

    Wellmission twenty ships for a start, I said. Wecked enough sailors to staff more than that for the moment. I believe your idea for a standard design is the correct one. It would quicken the pace of piece production even when youre not around to make them, and reduce prices.

    We could apply the same process for manufactured goods, Lady Freygrad suggested. Quantity is a quality all of its own, especially if we can maintain consistency.

    Therese turned to ire. I believe we have covered everything so far.

    This is an ambitious n, iremented. She grabbed a quill and immediately began to draft various decrees. A bold one too.

    It will burn through our war chest and yearly budget, I conceded. But it should put Snowdrift back on the right track.

    I hope so dearly. ire sighed. I wouldnt mind hiring more scribes to help with the paperwork.

    We have vests for that too, I happily reminded her.

    Your idea of taking away our officials ability to lie was good, Robin, Therese congratted me. I support making it mandatory.

    It would prevent the Knots from infiltrating the citys administration, Colmar added. We might have missed some of their agents.

    His words filled me with doubt. We had done our best to purge Fenrivos ring from the city, but a single detail still bothered me.

    How did Fenrivos know we were heroes? I muttered.

    His mistress warned him of ouring, Marika reminded me.

    But how would that mysterydy know? I crossed my arms, a nagging feeling of unease gnawing at the back of my mind. Events happened in such a short window of time how could the information spread so quickly? Weve overlooked something, but I cant tell what.

    ire looked up from her documents, a scowl on her face. Did you tell anyone you were heroes when you arrived in Snowdrift?

    I shook my head. No, we did not.

    Then one of my guards slipped up, ire grunted. Well have to interrogate them too.

    My gut told me that she was on the right track. I tried to remember every detail of our first meeting. The only people who learned about my powers were those in the Counts bedroom when I bought his illness. One of the guards could have shared the information, but Fenrivos explicitly mentioned a mistress. A woman.

    And the only women we met back then had been ire, Therese, and

    Florence, I muttered. The apothecary had been treating the Counts illness when we negotiated with him. She was here too.

    ires eyes met mine. We said nothing for a few seconds as the gravity of the situation slowly dawned on us. Then we both bolted out of our seats in panic.

    Colmar! ire all but shouted before throwing the council rooms door open. With me!

    The apothecary didnt even ask for a reason before following her. The fear in ires voice was all the warning he needed. While Marika and Lady Freygradcked the context to understand the situation, Therese quickly caught on.

    Guards! she shouted. Soldiers in armor rushed into the room immediately. Find Florence the apothecary and arrest her! Scour this castle and city if you must!

    Marikas eyes widened in shock. A cultist?

    Yes, I confirmed, my teeth grinding against each other. Lets catch her before she gets away!

    But we were toote.

    Marika and I scoured the city alongside a score of guards, looking for the apothecary. We checked every inn, every hospital, every ce Florence had frequented in her stay in Snowdrift with nothing to show for it. When the sun hit the horizon, we finally found the guard ire sent to shadow Florence with his throat slit in a back alley.

    No one could tell us where the apothecary went. Florence had simply vanished without a trace, as if she had never existed.

    <em>I let her go.</em> The words echoed in my mind when we returned to the castle with nothing to show for our manhunt.<em> I let her go.</em>

    Right under my nose, I muttered to myself, my fingers trembling with anger. She was right under my nose.

    Marika sent me a look full ofpassion. Dont me yourself, Robin, she tried tofort me. Some people some people hide their true selves very well. I know that from experience.

    Still, I should have I grunted. Anger clouded my judgment. I should have connected the dots earlier. Im so stupid

    You did your best, Marika insisted. And now we know what she looks like. Well get her one day.

    I locked eyes with her. But how many will she kill in the meantime?

    Even Marika couldnt answer that.

    I knew what to expect before we even walked into the counts room. We found the old man in his bed, his skin pallid and a stream of saliva running down his mouth. I couldnt hear him breathing. ire held her grandfathers hand in her own, her eyes holding back tears while Therese tried her best tofort her with kind words and whispers.

    Florence knew it was only a matter of time before her cover was blown, so she decided to take onest life before fading back into the dark.

    Poison, Colmar informed us when we arrived. The Alchemist let out a sigh of tiredness and exhaustion. He was already dead when we reached him. He didnt suffer at least.

    I doubted it wouldfort ire in her sorrow.

    <em>Florence was smiling</em>, I remembered, utterly shaken. ire and I had met the apothecary seconds after she poisoned her own patient. That should have been the ultimate stress test, to be confronted by the granddaughter of the man she had condemned to death. Instead, Florence acted perfectly normal and kind. <em>Was she a demon? I couldnt detect a single whiff of essence.</em>

    I dont get it, I whispered. The Count was already bound for the tomb from old age alone. What did Florence have to gain from murdering him? Why him?

    Maybe she wasnt confident she could harm us, Marika suggested.

    Colmar offered a more likely suggestion. She wanted to sabotage the administration, he said, ncing at ire. Im afraid the session will be rough.

    <em>My father was the only one magnanimous enough to look past her origins</em>, Ser Hugdan had mocked ire. <em>Shes a bastard after all</em>.

    The enemy had slipped through our fingers and sowed chaos on her way out.

 Chapter Ten: The Dagger

    Chapter Ten: The Dagger

    The counts funeral would take ce next week.

    His corpse wasnt even cold yet before all of the regions vermin crawled out of the woodwork. Distant cousins, well-born opportunists, crooked nobles like Ser Hugdans father everyone with a small drop of Brynslow bloodand many people withoutimmediately started pushing their ims on his estate.

    The Count explicitly named ire his heir, I pointed out to Therese in annoyance after we examined the pretenders writtenints. Since ire herself was busy organizing her grandfathers funeral rites, it fell on us to act as her gatekeepers. What is there to discuss?

    Therese answered with a sigh. Much, Im afraid. Bastards do not stand to inherit anything in Archfrost under normal circumstances. ires im is strong, but it <em>can </em>be contested.

    What did it matter that ire was born out of wedlock? Her mother had been Count Brynslows daughter, and no one could contest <em>that</em>. What if I support her as a hero and Lord Protector of Snowdrift? I questioned Therese. Would it help?

    It will help give her more legitimacy, but you are neither a duke nor a prince of the realm. Therese wrote down a letter and sealed it with the Brynslow seal. Only one person can silence all pretenders.

    <em>The king</em>, I guessed. Or in Archfrosts case, crown-prince Rnd. <em>Our Knight</em>.

    Our salvation came in the form of a certain teleporting nun. Eris came back one day after the Counts death to ry the Fatebinders answer to our call for help on the Blight situation, and quickly agreed to transport messages back to the capital. She returned a few hourster with more information.

    I leave for three days and a disaster happens, Eris mused. Robin, you truly are a ma for trouble.

    Story of my life, I replied. Eris meant it as a joke, but it stung nheless. The whole mess could have been avoided had I noticed Florences treachery early on.

    How did His Majesty answer? Therese asked.

    Prince Rnd agreed to legitimize ire, Eris exined. In fact, he intends to attend the counts funeral and do so personally.

    Therese and I immediately exchanged a worried nce. Archfrosts crown-prince, in <em>Snowdrift</em>? A city poisoned by a Blight and infested with hidden cultists for all we know?

    This couldnt end well.

    Cant he send a decree? I asked, trying to salvage this disaster. Or a messenger?

    I asked him the same question. Eris chuckled. That poor boy answered that nothing else will settle the matter and that, I kid you not, <em>a Knight afraid of evildoers is no Knight at all. </em>He said that with such a serious and dignified expression that I couldnt feel mad at him.

    His Majesty is worried, Therese guessed. Scouts informed us that the beastmen are gathering arge army north of Stonegarde. Between the Blight and the counts death, the royal army cant afford any trouble in the rear.

    I was starting to see the political picture. A decree was a piece of paper, and the prince was still too young to rule in his own name. The current regent was deeply unpopr, so bold nobles might contest the decision. They could frame it as evil counselors forcing the prince to cave into a bastards demands.

    However, if the prince legitimized ire in public before the most important nobles in the realm, at her grandfathers funeral no less who would dare challenge his decision?

    Besides, hes eager to meet his fellow heroes. Eris winked at Therese. And his fianc.

    I blinked a few times before face-palming at my own stupidity. Therese warned me that she would marry a local noble, but who could have been well-born enough for an imperial princess? Another royal of course! Rnd and she were even close in age!

    I have been flirting with the future queen of Archfrost? I asked Therese.

    Eris gasped in false outrage. Robin, you maidenless scoundrel! How dare you?!

    Therese smiled at me. Clearly, she had been waiting for me to learn the truth with impatience. Do you still intend to duel my fianc if he does not appreciate me, Robin?

    Of course, I replied shamelessly. But I wont fight fair.

    The Knight was one of the most powerful heroes alongside the Mage when it came to purebat power. Thest one broke a thousand-strong Shinkokan army on her lonesome. I had absolutely no chance of beating Rnd in a straight duel. But as they said, cheating was mans way of fighting back against the injustice called <em>talent</em>.

    Still, I hoped for Therese and myself that Rnd would be the charming kind of prince.

    Rnds visit to Snowdrift will only paint a bigger target on this citys back though, I pointed out. Considering the assassinations odd timing, Im wondering if that was the point.

    Were on the same page, Robin, Eris agreed. I would bet everything I have that the Knots murder of the count was meant to bait our Knight out of his castle.

    Beware of ill-conceived bets, I warned her with a forced smile, trying to lighten the mood. My power might take you up on it.

    Im sure you would give it back afterward, Eris replied. However, I believe the situation is only about to be moreplicated.

    Therese scowled. The regency will end in less than two months.

    The tension is palpable in the capital, Eris said with a worried look. Considering how cheerful and carefree she was, I took it as a dire warning. Rnds uncle Clovis has been the regent and the queens favorite both for nearly twelve years.

    That was twelve years too many in my humble opinion. Duke Clovis negligent governance had only contributed to Archfrosts decline. The Walbourg region to the south remained rebellious, the kingdoms economic woes were far from solved, and the regent preferred hunts and women to work from what I heard.

    Unfortunately, my experience in Ermeline taught me that power had a way of corrupting ipetent men into all-out scoundrels.

    You dont think the Regent will relinquish power, I guessed. Would he truly be stupid enough to challenge the Knight?

    Robin, Robin,e on, dont be a fool. Eris wagged her finger at me. If you were a lecherous dolt with absolute power and no aplishment to your name, would you seriously y second fiddle to a dashing young man and future hero of the realm?

    From her tone, she didnt have a high opinion of the Regents intelligence.

    Therese, who was more familiar with Archfrosts political situation than me, immediately grasped the implications. Duke Sigismund despises Duke Clovis, she said. The funeral offers Prince Rnd the perfect excuse to meet with him outside the capital alongside his fellow heroes.

    The prince wanted our support in securing his throne. Which frankly, we would all benefit from. A stable Archfrost meant my homnd would have a better time dealing with both cultists and potential invasions from the north. Moreover, Rnd could do much to help Snowdrift.

    This could be an opportunity, I said after thinking about the matter thoroughly. The princes visit would encourage the Knots to strike. If we y our cards right, we can force them into the open and wipe them out.

    The cultist situation in Archfrost bothers Lady Alexios, Eris said. She has dispatched the Inquisitor to Snowdrift, alongside a squad of exorcists to deal with the Blight.

    My eyes widened in surprise. An inquisitor, or <em>the </em>Inquisitor?

    The Inquisitor was one of the Priests vassals alongside the Wanderer, and traditionally associated with the Arcane Abbey.

    Both, Eris replied with a sigh. The person who received the ss is an actual inquisitor, and hesing with his entire squad.

    You do not seem happy about it, Lady Eris, Therese said.

    Cortaners a hardass. Eris rolled her eyes. You know how some people have a stick up their butt?

    This guy has a whole spear lodged in his bottom? I guessed.

    A whole pointy wall of them, Eris confirmed with augh. Cortaner is frighteningly good at his job though. Now that his powerpels everyone to tell him the truth and answer his questions, hes even better. I bet hell cleanse the city of cultists in a moons turn.

    If the Knight and the Inquisitor visited Snowdrift, then it meant nearly a third of all the active heroes would find themselves in the same city. This gathering would be rife with opportunities and dangers. The Knots would have to react one way or another. They wouldnt have another chance like this one.

    We will need to hire more guards, Therese concluded. And screen them for cultist allegiances.

    Yes, we must, I confirmed. I had the feeling I would be working around the clock to take away their ability to lie or betray the administration.

    I suggest you buy more muscles, my dear Robin, Eris added before pinching my arm. A few more abs might ruin your beautifully slim, slender figure, but they might save your life.

    I already tried to buy the strength of ten men, I confessed with a sigh. Didnt work as I had hoped.

    Having dungeons full of criminals willing to participate in experiments to escape execution allowed me to try more dangerous trades. In one unfortunate case, I purchased a mans strength and watched him wither into a husk. He became unable to move his lungs to breathe, and his heart stopped beating on its own. When I realized what I had done, he was already dead.

    The man had been a ver, but his demise still weighed on my conscience. Doubly so since it <em>didnt </em>make me any stronger. An attempt to buy another criminals agility only resulted in him suffering his predecessors fate in short order, much to my horror.

    <em>I shouldnt feel sorry for scum</em>, I tried to tell myself. Deaths were easier to stomach when I could justify them to myself. <em>They surrendered their rights as human beings when they became vers and murderers. Now they can see how it feels to be someone elses property.</em>

    But no matter how many excuses I tried toe up with, how many lies I tried to tell myself, it still felt terribly wrong.

    Much to my dismay, I proved no quicker than before. From what I gathered, concepts such as strength and speed worked simrly to ones ability to lie. Buying knowledge I already possessed from another wouldnt add to it. I already possessed <em>strength </em>of my own, so buying another mans might didnt enhance mine. You either had it or you didnt.

    Now, a trade might work if I purchased a <em>specific </em>ability, like an expert weightlifters ability to carry arge load on his back, rather than strength itself as a general concept. I could also potentially increase my physical prowess by selectively buying someones muscles, skills, or body parts, but I would never gain the strength of ten menbined. Not unless I could find a dragon willing to trade away his body.

    You will find a loophole, Robin, Eris encouraged me with a wink. Youre smart. Youll figure it out.

    Cant you ask the Fatebinder for books on previous Merchants? I questioned her. It would help me greatly if my predecessors left records of their own experiments. And leave fewer corpses to bury.

    Ill try to snoop a few books out of the archive, but you better treat me to dinner when I return. Eris blew me a kiss. Anyway, Ive work to do, so off I go.

    She vanished like the wind before I could answer.

    I hate it when she does that, I muttered to myself.

    Tales do say that the Wanderer never stays in one ce for long, Therese replied with her arms crossed. We have much on our te this week, and none more than ire.

    I nodded grimly. ire had been helping the priests prepare her grandfathers remains as tradition demanded. I had done the same for my parents, and the sense of loneliness I experienced then remained sharp to this day. Therese and I would gofort her once her work ended.

    Until then, the best we could do was lighten the burden of governance. Our economic reforms were now underway, with work to be done on all fronts. Every coin we brought in, and every smile we purchased, would help make Snowdrift a better ce.

    I left the castle to go check on my friends activities. As per our ns, Colmar and a small group of craftsmen had started building ss gardens on the northern bank. Wed decided to use the citys park as the ce to set them up due to good soil quality and easy ess to fresh water. It helped that that part of the city was as far away from the Blights epicenter as possible; the park had been originally built close to the ck Keep by the nobility, <em>for </em>the nobility. No matter how much the southern bank fell into poverty, the count always found a gardener to cut the grass.

    I was impressed by my allies progress. One day ago, the park had been an unremarkable expanse of grass and flowers with a few fountains standing out. Half a dozen ss houses had popped up in the meantime, each filled to the brim with rich earth and seeds.

    I found Colmar tending to one of these gardens with unexpectedpany.

    Rice would give more food, Lord Alchemist, Soraseo said with a hand on her sword. She observed Colmar nting seeds in carefully arranged plots with strange interest. The river can feed the seeds, and the grain will feed the mouths of the people.

    We do not have rice seeds in Archfrost, Colmar replied while grabbing a handful of dirt and changing them with his power into strange powder. I am curious though You believe rice can grow in the cold?

    Not when the snow falls. You can grow it when the ice bes water. In my homnd, farmers grow rice in mountains where the wind is cold. Soraseo looked over her shoulder and smiled at my approach. Robin. I feel happiness to see you.

    Damn, your ears are sharp, I said while joining the two. I didnt expect you to have an interest in agriculture.

    My ears are round, like yours, Soraseo replied with a confused frown. I was asking Colmar why you did not grow rice, if you want more food.

    We must do with the seeds we possess, Colmar said while sowing the plot with his powder, which I assume were nutrients. He grabbed another handful of dirt to repeat the process, which I found odd. Unfortunately, my power cannot turn pebbles into functional nts.

    Is there an issue with the soil? I asked him. Why not simply transform all of the plots dirt into nutrients at once?

    Because I cannot. After sowing the field, Colmar applied a hand against one of the panels making up the structure of the cage. The ss turned into dense ice, but the wooden frame remained unchanged; as did all the panels beyond that one. Do you see the issue?

    Only the ss panel changed, I guessed. Uh

    Oh, I have the understanding. Soraseo nodded sharply. You tried to make the entire box into ice.

    <em>Transform</em> into ice, Colmar corrected her. As for why this happens, I can warrant two guesses. First of all, my power seems to struggle a bit when very different forms of matter are pped together. I can transform a boulder bigger than a man into salt, but altering a house of wood and stonebined gives me trouble. Second, I suspect that if an objects shape, limits, andposition are not clearly delimited, then it takes the path of least resistance.

    Hence why he could only alter a handful of dirt rather than the entire plot. The Alchemists power struggled to understand the concept of ground as a continuous unit, and thus only changed what Colmar held in his hand because it required less effort.

    On the bright side, that means you wont turn the entire world to gold by ident, I joked, though Colmars point about an objects limits gave me an idea. I wonder

    Did I inspire a new test? Colmar asked, suddenly interested. He was about as curious about my powers applications as I was.

    A coin teleports to my hand when I buy it. I put a hand on the warm ss. Hours in the sunlight had charged it with heat. If I buy, say, a box like this one, would the contents teleport with it? Even though seeds and vegetables are technically living things?

    Soraseo immediately identified the tactical potential. How about a castle? she asked. Would it transport soldiers?

    Though many astonishing legends surround the Merchant, I havent heard any involving transporting in fortresses from nowhere, Colmar pointed out. So if such a miracle is possible, it must have limits.

    I could try with a box and a cat and increase the size afterward, I replied with a shrug. I nced at the ck Keep, which would live up to its name on the day of the funeral. I doubt ire would let us try with her castle.

    Colmar lowered his beak. Though I couldnt see eyes or any hint of flesh, his bodynguage betrayed his guilt. How is ourdy?

    <em>Not well</em>, I thought. Shes helping the priests prepare her grandfathers corpse for the wake.

    I still do not understand what happened, Colmar confessed. I have known Florence for years, even before the purple gue. I wouldnt say we were friends, but we crossed paths many times and often coborated to save people. Hundreds of innocents owe their lives to her hard work and dedication.

    Did she ever give any hint to her true allegiances? I asked him.

    No, absolutely not. She and thete count have been acquainted for over a decade. If she wanted to assassinate him, she passed over dozens of opportunities.

    Then she was probablyying low, I said. I still felt sore about how Florence managed to keep her cover in the presence of so many heroes. That woman had nerves of steel. Acting as a sleeper agent until the time was right.

    Mayhaps, but my instinct tells me theres more to it. Colmar stroked his masks beak. I know she lives with her family in an Arcadian vige near the border. Mosswood, I think its name is?

    I will send investigators, I said. But I doubt she would return to such an obvious location. We dont even know if she has even left the city, let alone Archfrost.

    The enemy wille to us, Soraseo said calmly. You must wait for the snake to peek out of its den to kill it.

    But how many would die when that same snake bit back? I never cared much for the countI only met him once after allbut if the cultists had in Little Benicio, ire, or my fellow heroes I wouldnt have taken it well.

    I stared at the mark on the back of my hand. My power could kill a man with a single transaction. Why wouldnt it work in reverse?

    I I cleared my throat as a dark idea wormed its way into my mind. When people die, their souls return to the Soulforge, correct? Then the four artifacts reforge them for reincarnation?

    Yes, it is a proven phenomenon, Colmar confirmed. Why?

    Do you think I know it might sound crazy and heretical, but I gathered my breath. Do you think I could buy someones soul to save them from death?

    Colmar stared at me without a word. Soraseos grip on her sword tightened. None of them said a word.

    Or, you know, buy the souls of the dead from the artifacts? To bring them back in a new receptacle? I still cursed my powerlessness when my parents died. I would have given so much to see them again. If my power can halt the march of time for a human being, it should free them from deaths grasp too.

    Soraseo scowled darkly, her eyes staring at the sky. I could tell she was considering my words. She had lost an important person too and traveled half a world away from her homnd to see them again.

    Colmar observed me in silence for a few seconds, before grabbing a silver coin from his pouch and presenting it to me.

    What is that for? I asked him with a frown.

    Your ability to die, he said calmly.

    I stared at the coin and the temptation it represented. I thought back to my parents death, of ire praying at her murdered grandfather, at the abominable sorrow and emptiness that followed the loss of a cherished one. There was no nobility in being mortal.

    I ept, I said, taking the coin.

    My mark glowed, and the coin teleported out of my grasp.

    My power had refused the deal.

    Now, Robin, I will buy your ability to be wounded. The coin escaped my hand when I took it. I will buy your ability to be infested with diseases. Another bust. I will buy your bodys need for food and drink. Once again, my power canceled the deal. Now, try it all over again with Lady Soraseo.

    Again and again, my power failed me. Whether I asked Soraseo to sell me her mortality or she tried to buy mine, the Merchant ss simply canceled all deals.

    <em>I cannot sell what does not belong to me</em>, I thought grimly. I bought the counts illness and I could do the same with wounds, but not the ability to receive them, because it showcased a core frailty in the mortal condition. A void. I might buy someones invulnerability, if such a thing existed, but not the <em>absence </em>of invulnerability.

    A man could own his own life, but not his death.

    And then, Colmar delivered the finishing blow: he presented his heros mark to me.

    I will sell you my Alchemist ss, Colmar said without hesitation, for one lock of your hair.

    Soraseos eyes widened in shock. Even I, who was always on the lookout for good deals, balked at it. Colmar, I cant

    If it works, you can sell it back to me, Colmar reassured me. I trust you.

    His confidence in me warmed my heart, but it did little to soothe my worries. I had never dared to ask a fellow hero to buy their mark. I doubted it would work, or else a previous Merchant would have done so, but if it did if it did

    I I cleared my throat. This was a unique opportunity to confirm my powers hard limits. I agree.

    My mark glowed as my power activated. Yet Colmars own did not leave him, nor did my head lose a single hair.

    This confirmed beyond doubt that we did not own our sses. I guessed it made us. The marks <em>chose </em>us. Perhaps they could abandon us the moment we proved unworthy of our charge.

    What was your point, Colmar? I asked him. That I cannot, in fact, buy everything?

    Instead of giving me a straight answer, Colmar avoided my gaze and stared at his nts. There was once a young apothecary who thought he could save everyone from death. He was a prodigy in the healing arts with a prodigious mind. His teachers called him a genius blessed by the heavens. He believed them until a gue swept away his vige.

    Soraseo and I listened in silence. Colmars voice remained steady, but the sorrow in it remained vivid and raw.

    He tried his best to save all of his patients, but for every one person he healed, two more perished. Colmars story was marked by a short pause, as if holding back a sob. Until one day, he realized everyone around him was dead.

    This is a sad tale, Soraseo whispered.

    But it is mine. Colmar nodded. How many generations of heroes preceded us, Robin? And how many have survived to this day?

    None. Even though Merchants could buy centuries of time and eternal youth, none lived to the current age. For it was in our nature to chase after danger, to confront death so innocents wouldnt have to.

    Colmar I spoke up, but he did not let me finish.

    You cannot save everyone, Robin, Colmar warned me. We are not gods. We did not build the world, let alone own it. We only exist in it, and as such are subject to itsws. Even our marks are loans from a higher power, granted to us with the expectation that we will one day give it back. I fear that if you start believing that you can solve all of Pangeals problems with your ss, it will lead you down a dark and painful path.

    <em>You cannot save everyone</em>. <em>You are not a god. Your power has limits that you cannot ovee.</em>

    I stared at my mark, whose power could buy lives and sell time. Colmars words were wise and, from the way he spoke, inspired by terrible hardships. But still, I wondered if they were correct. My power rewarded ingenuity. Could I find a secret loophole that would allow me to cheat the goddessws? One that had escaped all Merchants before me? It sounded absurd even to me.

    Perhaps Colmar was right, and pursuing that path would only make me an overambitious fool. Part of me still wanted to try, if only to check.

    I eyed Soraseo. She gripped her swords hilt so tightly that I worried she might hurt herself. Colmars words affected her even more than they did me

    Do not take my words as an invitation to give up on everything, Colmar said. What I mean to say is that all we mortals can do is try our best, but we must ept that sometimes wishes do note true.

    I let out a chuckle, though there was no joy in it. Quite the harsh words to say.

    Better that you learn this lesson from my example than from your sorrow. Colmar crossed his arms. In any case, our n is proceeding apace. With the ss gardens mostlyplete, Marika can now focus on shipbuilding.

    The mention of Marikas name jolted Soraseo out of her thoughts. Oh, I had almost forgotten, she said. Robin, I have a message from Marika. She said that your girl and friend have arrived to see you.

    My girl and friend? I squinted. My girlfriend?

    Oh, it was one word? Soraseo was making progress in speaking Archfrostian, but she could miss subtleties sometimes. Yes, I believe that was her meaning. Your girl-friend is waiting at the port.

    My girlfriend? I didnt have onemuch to my dismayand I couldnt see why Marika would call anyone that.

    Unless could it be

    Does shee from Ermeline? I asked Soraseo with my heart pounding in my chest.

    I am aware that your girl-friend took an eastern ship like we did, she replied. I do not know more.

    I left my friends faster than Eris, much to their surprise.

    <em>She actually came?</em> I thought as I bolted off to the port. Moreover, a burden was lifted from my shoulders. I worried she might have perished in the Ermeline city massacre. I would be relieved to see her safe and sound. <em>And here I thought she was kidding about meeting me in Snowdrift.</em>

    I found Mersie waiting for me on the docks, at the very spot where the ferry dropped off my team a few weeks ago.

    I almost didnt recognize her at first. She hadnt changed physically in any way. She was still the slim, slender beauty that charmed a wealthy nobleman into making her his mistress. Her shoulder-long blond hair flowed with the wind, and the rivers water reflected off her sea-blue eyes. She had taken to wearing a ck corset that left her shoulders exposed, a travel cloak, and a long skirt covering her legs.

    But the way she stared at the river her steady yet subtly alert posture, like a lioness ready to show its ws at the first sign of danger the hint of knives hidden up her sleeves, and the ones clearly exposed on her belt her dangerous allure those were new.

    She wasnt alone either. A stout man in his sixties followed her like her shadow, a hand on a saber hanging from his belt. His brown livery marked him as a butler of some kind,

    His white whiskers and ponytail reminded me of a lions mane, and his ck eyes assessed me with cold calction when I approached. Tightly-packed travel bagsy at his feet.

    Mersie, meanwhile, greeted me with a lovely smile. Your hometown is quite the dreary ce, Robin, she said as if we had just met yesterday. But it has a certain charm to it.

    I didnt say a word. Instead, I struggled to make sense out of the all too familiar feeling surging from my mark when I looked at her. From the way she looked at me, Mersie experienced it too.

    Yet she still yed coy. Whats wrong, Robin?

    Show it to me, I answered.

    Mersie chuckled. In the open?

    My house is over there. I nced at herpanion. Who is he?

    His name is Camilus. Camilus, this is Robin. The butler bowed respectfully as Mersie introduced us to each other. Hes an old family friend.

    Mydy spoke well of you, the man said, though he did not stop appraising me.

    <em>Mydy</em>. I squinted at Mersie, trying to detect any hint I was facing a twin or shapeshifter adopting her face. I thought you had no family left?

    My family died long ago, but it does not mean we werent friendless. Camilus has been my faithful retainer for many years. She put a hand on her waist. Perhaps we could discuss old times in a warmer ce?

    I nodded sharply and invited them into my house. Marika was working at the shipyard and Benicio received free education at the church under heavy escort, so we had a ce for ourselves. I invited Mersieif that was her real name; I was starting to wonderand her attendant upstairs. Mersie and I sat around a table, while Camilus immediately opened the travel bags and moved to prepare beverages without any prompt on our part. He must have done it so often it had be a second-nature to him.

    Cozy, Mersiemented. Ive met the woman you live with. She told me you met on the ferry?

    I booked a spot for you, I replied, still trying to gather my thoughts.

    Mersies lips stretched into a thin line. I very much wanted to, Robin, she said, and it sounded sincere. To drop everything and follow you. Believe me, I did.

    But in the end, she stayed in Ermeline. Because she had a task toplete there before she could leave the city. A mission that mattered more to her than me.

    Show it to me, I said.

    Mersie held my gaze for a moment, her butler observing us from the kitchen with a cautious stare. Then she raised her skirt all the way up to her right thigh, revealing a silvery mark on her pristine white skin. I had already guessed which ss it belonged to before I saw it: a dagger and the Erebian numeral for thirteen.

    The Assassin.

    <em>Curse you,</em><em>Eris</em>, I thought while removing my glove. She had known all along, teased me, and didnt say a word. <em>She must beughing at me right now.</em>

    I removed my glove and showed Mersie my own mark. She gave me that nk, imprable look she used to hide her emotion. I didnt think she was surprised. She must have heard the Merchant rumors by now.

    The Merchant. I see. Mersie crossed her legs. Did you kill Sforza?

    Yes. I had no reason to deny it. Did you wipe out Ermelines nobility?

    She did not deny it. I told you I had something to do in the city before I could join you, Mersie reminded me. I intended to poison them at their party. Then the mark appeared, and you know the rest.

    She had nned the massacre before receiving her mark. Possibly for years. Your lover

    Was a pig. A useful pig, but a pig nheless. If Mersie felt any remorse at murdering him alongside Ermelines other nobles, she didnt show any hint. He let me infiltrate the Dukes court, and then he served his purpose.

    The way she said thatwith the tone one might use to discuss the weather or inane gossipcontrasted so much with the woman I had known that I struggled to believe she was truly Mersie. But then I remembered how well she managed to hide her true feelings, and the invisible distance I always sensed between us when we were dating. It was never something I could put into words; just a vague feeling that she was holding things back from me.

    Come to think of it, Mersie always gave me a nk expression and evasive answers whenever I asked her if she remembered her parents from before the orphanage. I had put it on her being naturally cautious and old wounds that never properly healed, but now I wondered if she had been making up lies on the spot. I vividly remembered the first time I broached the subject of eloping from Ermeline, to leave the city and Sforza behind. Mersie had struck me as torn between leaving with and staying in Ermeline, but she could nevere up with a good reason for why. She answered to me that it was too risky, that Sforza would find out, and a dozen other excuses.

    Yet they always felt as just that: <em>excuses</em>.

    Who are you, Mersie? I asked her.

    Mersie. The woman I thought I once knew avoided my gaze. I like that name.

    But its not yours.

    It is now. She sighed. But my mother called me Fiore, or Fior for short. A little girl that died fifteen years ago."

    You look very much alive to me. The name didnt ring any bells though. Why did you do it? You clearly nned that massacre for years.

    Mersie leaned back against her seat. Her butler served each of us a cup filled with tea, which I assumed was Seukaian in origin from the texture. A very expensive spice in the current times.

    What do you know of the Knots? Mersie asked me.

    More than I thought, and less than I should.

 Chapter Eleven: Assassins Creed

    Chapter Eleven: Assassin''s Creed

    Six years ago, I had worked up the nerve to invite Mersie for a date at Ermelines best tea shop. We had been both fresh out of Sforzas private tutoring for young criminals; I was made a clerk in his underground empire, keeping track of which bribe went to which pocket, while Mersie gathered information under the guise of a housemaid. In retrospect, her uncanny ability to infiltrate a noble household undetected should have clued me in that my girlfriend might be keeping secrets from me.

    The date had gone well. Wed drank Seukaian tea,ughed, held hands while walking near the canals, and then had passionate sex in the back of a warehouse used to smuggle drugs and Iremian contraband. Typical teenage shenanigans.

    Six years forward to the present moment, I sipped the cup in my hand and immediately recognized the fruity vor. Seukaian green tea. The same one we drank back then. She remembered our first date as vividly as I did.

    Do you like the tea? Mersie asked me with a sweet smile. I knew you were unhappy I couldnt serve it to you in Ermeline.

    I felt a pang of nostalgia, but not enough for it to distract me. Did you steal it from the dukes reserves?

    She gave me an offended look. No.

    Then you bought it. A gesture that carried great significance nowadays. The price of Seukaian tea has gone up tenfold since the Shinkoku started blockading their ports.

    Mersie avoided my gaze. I am well-off.

    How much?

    Mersie hesitated a bit before answering with another question. How much did this city invest in your newpany?

    I squinted at her. Thirty-thousand gold.

    Im amazed at what you could achieve with so little. Her smile was sincere, but it felt a little condescending to me. I could buy it ten times over.

    Ten times over. Three-hundred thousand gold coins in cash would put her in the weight ss as the great dukes and merchant princes. I would have snorted in disbelief, but Mersie had been able to hide so many things from me I had to consider the possibility she was indeed telling the truth.

    Ten times over, I repeated while struggling to hold back augh. Thats rich. You wouldnt ept a handful of coins thest time we met.

    Mersie chuckled. It is not because I am rtively well-off

    Rich, I corrected her. I couldnt stand false modesty. Or <em>eminently taxable</em>, if you want a flowery alternative.

    that I do not understand the value of money, she said with a wide grin, ignoring my jap. Ive spent half my life first at the orphanage and then in Sforzas employ. The few coins you offered me meant more than a gold statue from Archfrosts king.

    My Goddess, and all these times I treated her to dinner because I thought Sforza didnt pay her enough for her work I felt cheated.

    Still, Mersies worth gave me a good amount of information. Considering she had lost her entire family and joined Sforzas orphanage over a decade ago, I tried to remember all of the great noble or merchant houses that suffered tragedy in thest fifteen years or so. A candidate came up in my mind.

    <em>They did have a daughter,</em> I thought. <em>A </em><em><strong>dead</strong></em><em> daughter but the timeline would fit.</em> Is your family name <em>Salvadoreen</em>, Mersie?

    Mersies butler gave a dark look, his hand twitching on his swords hilt. Youve always been too smart for your own good, his mistress said with a sigh. That''s why I had to break up with you.

    You would have had to kill me otherwise? I asked, suddenly on edge.

    Robin, I would never Mersies expression darkened into a scowl. She appeared sincerely outraged. For the Goddess sake, we dated for two years. We <em>fucked</em>. In <em>my </em>bed.

    I remembered it fondly to this day. That didnt save yourst lover.

    I slept with him for a purpose, nothing more. Mersie crossed her arms, her eyebrows furrowing. Youre making this harder than it needs to be, Robin.

    I snorted. Youve lied to me since the day we met, what did you expect?

    To her credit, Mersie had the decency to look ashamed. Her sheepish embarrassment appeared genuine, though she was such a good actress I doubted my own eyes. It took her a few seconds to recover herposure.

    I wasnt lying about <em>everything</em>, Mersie said, her voice weaker than before. I I truly did consider dropping my ns to follow you here.

    But you didnt, I pointed out.

    Mersies retainer, Camilus, grunted and came to his mistress rescue. With all due respect, Lord Merchant, mydy nned her revenge for fifteen years, he said with a deep, dignified voice. That she even <em>considered </em>leaving it behind to elope with you gave me pause.

    I feel affection for you, Robin, but I have a duty to fulfill, Mersie insisted with a sigh. While this might sound nave to you, I carried the hope we could start over here.

    I shrugged. Not gonna lie, that idea soundspromised.

    Words were one thing and actions were another. I still liked Mersie, mostly due to all our history, but it didnt change the fact she never truly trusted me the way I did. She had a long way to go if she wanted to <em>start over.</em>

    I understand, Mersie said with that same nk, emotionless expression she used to hide her true feelings. Many things have changed between us since west met. We both have marks now.

    And from what you say, we share amon enemy. I sipped my tea. Are the Knots responsible for the Goldport Massacre?

    Mersie nodded sharply, her gaze hardening.

    House Salvadoreen had been the ruling family of Goldport, one of the richest cities in the Rivend Federation. Their dynasty of merchant princes went all the way back to the nations founding, when it seceded from the Everbright Empire. Though it fought on the other side of the independence war, House Salvadoreen kept strong and amicable ties with its former homnd.

    Enough, in fact, that they became amon shelter for exiled imperial nobles.

    Neen years ago, a league of noblesunched a coup in the Everbright Empire over Emperor Juztinians senatorial reform, Mersie exined. Since he couldnt send away half of his supporters, the emperor sent his children away to protect them from the following civil war.

    Which was how Therese ended up in Archfrost in the first ce, from what I gathered. House Salvadoreen took in the future Empress Isabel and financially supported her faction, I recounted. They always did bet on the right horse.

    Mersie nodded sharply. When the rebellion was crushed and a grateful Isabel ascended to the throne three yearster, my family reached the apex of its power.

    <em>But when you reach the top of the world, the only way to go is down</em>, I thought. House Salvadoreen had made enemies during the conflict, and fifteen years ago, they seized their chance to strike.

    I will never forget that night, Mersie whispered with an ugly look in her beautiful eyes. Her fingers twitched in barely-controlled fury. My father held a private party for my birthday. I was so shy back then that he only invited a handful of people. Our family and our closest friends.

    I already knew how it turned out. The massacre was a well-known tragedy. You dont have to give me all the ugly details, I tried to reassure her. I wont lie and say I can imagine

    No, you cant, Robin, Mersie cut in, her tone oozing with venom. You cant imagine watching your mothers severed head rolling at your feet, or your father nailed to a wall by a throwing knife<em>, </em>or your childhood ymate being eaten alive by a monster as if she were a <em>snack</em>. You <em>cant </em>imagine it.

    I flinched at her words. The hate in Mersies voice was cold like winters heart, yet so vivid and intense that it could almost taste its bitterness in the air. The sheer pressureing off her reminded me of Belgoroths berserk me in all of its terror. My old friend carried a terrible wound in her heart, one that only festered with the years rather than heal.

    Im I gulped. I didnt mean to

    The priests say the dead carry no grudge into the Soulforge, Mersie interrupted me with a cold, lifeless voice. Her hand gripped her cup so hard it started to crack. That their souls are wiped clean of sins so that they may enjoy a new peaceful life. But theyre wrong. The dead carry their pain to the other side too. Their suffering keeps them from resting. Ive <em>seen it</em>.

    Fifteen years ago, an armed band broke into the Salvadoreens vi and ughtered everyone inside. The ughter was so atrocious, so sudden and unexpected, that it birthed a Blight. A curse not as dangerous as the one that threatened to swallow Snowdrift, but one that still lingered to this day.

    The truth behind the massacre, let alone who ordered it, never came to light. There were simply too many suspects and too few witnesses. No one understood how a group of killers could wipe out the Salvadoreens guards on their lonesome and leave their mansion undetected. Some suspected the Assassin was somehow summoned early, but no Assassin had ever left dismembered corpses and severed heads behind.

    But since Mersie mentioned a monster, I could guess who achieved that gruesome feat.

    Demons, I whispered. You were attacked by demons.

    A few. Mersie sneered in disgust. Most were just men. Greedy, heartless men.

    Mersie was right: I couldnt imagine what she went through. From what I heard, the killers left no survivors. In some cases, it took the investigators days to find all the victims lost body parts.

    Camilus took me to safety in a secret panic room, Mersie whispered with a dark gaze. Her retainer straightened up, his eyes betraying his sorrow. One of my ymates She was amoner around my age, a blonde too. The assassins mistook her for me.

    Im sorry, I said. After a moments hesitation, I put my hand on her own. Its awful.

    I Her fingers grabbed mine and held on to them tightly. When the screams ended Camilus and I walked out of the panic room to find everyone dead.

    She had been seven back then. Seven.

    My family and retainers body parts were sttered everywhere but then they pulled themselves back and the blood grew faces screaming with their voices Mersie turned toward the window, in the direction of the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>. My family is still trapped in that mansion, Robin. Their souls wont find rest.

    Then she met my gaze, her eyes cold as ice.

    Not until I kill everyst one of them, she said with grim determination. All those murderers and fiends. <em>None </em>must survive.

    Mersie carried wounds as deep as the sea. I wish I knew which balm to use to soothe them, but I feared no word offort would do.

    Im sorry, was all I could say.

    I know, she answered softly, letting go of my hand. You understand now why I couldnt leave with you. I had a duty.

    So many years, and she never gave away a hint. Sforza was involved, wasnt he?

    Mersie nodded curtly. We suspected him, and Duke Ermeline too. Thats why I joined the orphanage. We already knew they recruited children, so I stayed close and waited for my chance.

    She infiltrated the enemy from the ground up, gathering intel and waiting for her time as I did since she was a child. How did you remain undetected?

    Camilus thought it best that I fake my death. So long as my familys killers believed me gone, they wouldnt look for me. So we secretly transferred the lions share of my familys assets to a web of false identities. She chuckled dryly. I like Mersie the most.

    I hope I gave you a few good memories, I said, trying to cheer her up a little.

    Yes, you did. Mersie snorted lightly. Except your cooking. You were terrible.

    You said you loved my pasta. Had that been a lie too? From the way Mersie smiled thinly at me, yes, it had been.

    I grabbed my cup, finishing my tea while mulling over everything Mersie had told me today. A heavy silence fell on the room, with neither of us willing to break it. Camilus stood beside his mistress like a living wall of stone.

    Thats a lot to take in, I said. Im truly sorry for what you went through.

    Her nod was curt, but thankful.

    However. I gathered my breath. However, it doesnt change the fact youve lied to me since the moment we met. I never held anything back from you. Why didnt you tell me anything back?

    I wanted to, but I could never bring myself to. Im sorry. Mersie avoided my gaze. Its still difficult for me to trust anyone except for Camilus. Some of the people who ordered my familys massacre were friends. Or at least, my parents <em>mistook </em>them for friends.

    I suppose I couldnt me her for being careful but damn it, we had known each other for decades. I understood her motives, yet I still felt the sting of betrayal.

    Were some of these so-called friends among Ermelines nobility? I guessed.

    Yes. Mersie sneered and gestured at Camilus to bring more tea. They funded the attack so they could steal my houses businesses and trade routes. Imperial nobles opposed to the empress also contributed.

    And they were part of the Knots? I asked while Camilus refueled my cup.

    She shook her head. Most were dupes. They didnt know they funded a demonic cult rather than an assassin ring. Duke Ermeline, however, was one of their members. Sforza was in the process of being introduced to the organization.

    <em>So that was why he had a Devils Coin</em>, I thought. I suspected Duke Ermelines secret orgy gatherings were meant to cultivate associates and members of the cult. In spite of all the corruption I had uncovered in Ermeline, I clearly hadnt dug deep enough. What would you have done if you hadnt received the Assassins mark?

    I told you. Poison. For most. Mersie shrugged. I intended to torture the duke for information with a knife, but the sight of my mark alone frightened him enough for him to spill the beans.

    And she said that with such casual detachment too <em>That wasnt her first time killing</em>, I guessed. She wouldnt have switched ns so swiftly within hours of gaining her power otherwise.<em> She was an assassin before she became the Assassin.</em>

    Thank you, Camilus, Mersie thanked her retainer as he served her tea. Does the name Chastel ring any bells, Robin?

    No.

    Hes the one who led the assault on my familys home. Your friend, Marika, she knows him well. That demon leaves pain and fear wherever he goes. Mersie blew on her tea to cool it down. Hes an enforcer for the Knot of Wrath. Theyre the cults muscle.

    I frowned at the mention of Marika. Did Mersie investigate my allies? No, most likely she just gathered information on all Knot-rted activities. Since Marikas husband had joined with Belgoroths cult, Chastels name probably appeared somewhere in her case. I would ask her for detailster.

    Mersie exchanged a nce with her retainer. Camilus brought a pile of documents out of their travel bags and handed them to me. After a moments hesitation, I quickly started reviewing them.

    The scrolls contained an irregr collection of notes, investigator reports, intercepted letters, and even missives stolen from the Arcane Abbeys inquisition division. This pile of paper was more valuable than its weight in gold.

    Heres what we gathered over the years, Mersie exined as I read the documents. There are seven Knots, each working under the patronage of a Demon Ancestor. The Knot of Greed gathers funds and funds the various cults. The Knot of Wrath kills their enemies. The Knot of Lust recruits new members and hunts down traitors. The Knot of Sloth creates monsters in the wilderness. The Knot of Gluttony hoards magical secrets. The Knot of Envy steals information and runs sabotage operations. And the Knot of Pride corrupts political institutions from within.

    I felt like a child who had stumbled on a treasure trove. Some of the letters belonged to imperial nobles involved in the Coup of 671 and the following civil war that shook the Everbright Empire. Others mentioned spies of the Knots at work in Irem and the Fire Inds.

    <em>Their web spans all of Pangeal</em>, I thought grimly. Seven cults working in unison towards societys copse. How long have they been in operation? I asked Mersie. Some of these papers go back decades.

    Centuries for some. The Imperial Coup, the troubles in Archfrost, the civil war Mersie sipped her tea, her gaze hard as stone. Theyveid the groundwork for many of todays tragedies.

    Why havent you given this to the Arcane Abbey? These documents were better off shared with the world rather than kept in a bag.

    I do not trust the Abbey. The Knots have infiltrated them, though to what degree I cannot say. Mersie joined her hands. I believe the Fatebinder is keeping secrets from us. From everyone in the world.

    I share your suspicions. Preventing the Demon Ancestors from gathering more essence couldnt exin everything Id learned so far. From the way the Knots call us false heroes and the difficulties in gathering information on our powers, the Arcane Abbey is clearly withholding information.

    Mersie took the documents from me and started flipping their pages. Robin, what I am about to share with you is something very few people are aware of. She locked eyes with me. You have to swear to me you will keep it to yourself, or only share it with people you absolutely trust with your life.

    Her tone gave me pause, but I offered a short nod all the same.

    Mersie drew a sheet from the pile of documents. It was small, norger than my hand. A simple piece of paper with a single symbol drawn on it.

    This is the mark of Daltia, the Devil of Greed, Mersie exined. Her Knot uses it as a symbol.

    Daltia. I had heard that name spoken by Belgoroth when he first manifested. I studied the drawing, which represented a golden coin with a red-eyed skull at its center.

    Doesnt it look familiar? Mersie asked me.

    Its a Devils Coin, I replied. My old me responded with a smirk. Wrong answer?

    She picked another piece of paper from the pile, representing another symbol: a ming ymore which I immediately recognized.

    This is the mark of Belgoroth, the Lord of Wrath, Mersie said, before providing a third drawing. And this is the mark of Belsara, the Beast of Sloth.

    Belsaras symbol represented five animal heads forming a circle: a lion, a ram, a hawk, a wolf, and a dragon. The mark felt familiar, but it was only when I reviewed the other two that it all fell into ce.

    <em>Could it be? </em>I removed my glove and stared at my mark. <em>Maybe </em>Mersie

    Mersie interrupted me with a slyugh. She moved her hand and a deck of cards suddenly appeared in her palm. What a show-off.

    Of the many card games of Pangeal, none were older nor more respected than <em>Fatebinding</em>. A standard deck was made of seventy-eight cards; four suites of fourteen cards dedicated to the four artifacts, and a set of twenty-two cards that each represented a heros ss.

    Besides being a perennial favorite of game tables and gambling dens everywhere, Fatebinding was also used by fortune-tellers and conmen to divine the future. I never put too much thought into the practiceI believed the future was ours to buildbut Mersie loved to do readings. It was how I learned to memorize the marks.

    The heroes were assembled in a sequence that started with the Wanderer at zero and ended with the Fatebinder at twenty-one. Mersie drew three cards andid them on the table, right next to the demonic marks.

    The Knight, a bastard sword topped by the Erebian numeral for eleven.

    The Ranger, numbered seventeen, is represented by three animal heads in a circle: the lion, the ram, and the snake.

    And my own Merchant mark, a golden coin with the number fifteen.

    There were differences between the heroes marks and those of the Demon Ancestors. The Knights sword was smaller than Belgoroths andcked its fiery aura; my own coin symbol didnt have a skull on its surface; and the Beast of Sloth possessed two more heads than the Rangers symbol. But I couldnt deny the resemnce.

    That doesnt prove much, I said half-heartedly, trying to find a rational exnation. The Seven Great sses were bestowed upon us by the Goddess to fight the Demon Ancestors. ording to the legends, each of the core seven was made to oppose one of them specifically; with the Vassals to help them.

    Mersie shrugged. Thats what the Arcane Abbey says.

    I scowled at the demonic marks. But not what the Knots believe in.

    No. Mersie shook her head, before choosing her words carefully. From what Ive learned, the Knots do not deny the Goddess at all. In fact, they believe the Demon Ancestors are her <em>true </em>chosen. The very firstand <em>only</em>heroes of Pangeal, who will one day return to forge the world anew.

    Mass murder and trying to destroy cities doesnt scream heroic deeds to me. My mind wandered back to Belgoroths all-consuming me and its decidedly unfriendly influence on its victims. Still, a good investigator never dismissed information out of hand.<em></em>What are we then, if not heroes?

    Fakes and frauds, who betrayed the true heroes and cast the world into chaos. Mersie flipped another card from the deck between her deft fingers: the Fatebinder, numbered twenty-one and represented by the world itself. I believed it was rubbish, but when I told the Wanderer, she told me Lysandra Alexios asked me not to mention the demon marks.

    Even to us? Mersies nod barely surprised me. So Colmar was right. The Fatebinder is trying to hide details from us. Information that could help us better fight the Demon Ancestors.

    Why do people in power lie? Mersie asked, though she didnt wait for an answer. Because they have something to lose if the truthes out.

    I had to agree. It would make sense that the Fatebinder remain tight-lipped with most, since knowledge of the Demon Ancestors could empower them. But we werent most people. We were divinely appointed champions expected to save the world.

    Or at least, I hoped we were. What else do you know?

    Not much, Mersie admitted. The orders secrets are only revealed to an inner circle among the Knots, who are almost all demons. Duke Ermeline himself was only a subordinate in the Knot of Greeds hierarchy.

    If one of the most powerful men in the Rivend Federation was considered a low-ranking member, were the cults leaders princes and emperors? Though I supposed the Knots hierarchy might not reflect the power its members wielded in public society.

    Does the name Florence of Arcadia ring a bell to you? I asked her.

    I took Mersies frown as a no. Why?

    Shes suspected of poisoning the count and being a member of the Knot of Wrath. Maybe one of its leaders.

    Mersie crossed her arms and thought it over for a while. ording to our investigations, Chastel and the Knot of Wrath answer to a woman going by the nickname of Mother Wolf. It could be her codename.

    Could be, I conceded. Is that why you came to Archfrost? To track her and Chastel down?

    More than them. I interrogated Duke Ermeline before finishing him off. From her tone, I could guess that interrogation involved a healthy dose of threats and violence. He informed me that the Knot of Greeds leader has infiltrated Archfrosts government.

    Now that might be a problem. Come to think of it, Fenrivos received his ves from all over Archfrost; while his tavern worked to ship human meat across Pangeal, we couldnt identify his core suppliers. The presence of a cultist in Archfrosts government would exin how that ve ring went undiscovered, not to mention all of the countrys political troubles.

    <em>Mersie said they were involved with the civil war</em>, I thought. <em>But on which side of the fence?</em><em>The crown? The rebels? Or both?</em>

    Could you learn their identity? I asked.

    No, Mersie conceded. Knot cells almost always exchange information through intermediaries to avoidpromising the greater organization.

    The Inquisitor will soon visit Snowdrift, I informed her. As will Prince Rnd.

    Mersie weed the information with a nk face and a flicker in her eyes. Good, she said. The Knight will make for good bait.

    Something in her tone bothered me. Let me be perfectly clear, <em>Mersie</em>, I said, stressing her fake name. Were not putting the crown prince of Archfrost in unnecessary danger.

    Her head tilted to the side. We cannot untie the Knots without taking a few risks.

    Im willing to risk my life alright, I replied. But not those of others.

    She scoffed. Prince Rnd is the Knight. He wont be in any danger whatsoever.

    He might be unmatched in battle, but would his powers protect him from a cup of poison? Im not so sure. If the Knots could operate right under our nose in Snowdrift, they might have infiltrated the princes staff already. Clearly our enemies have spent considerable time and resources destabilizing Archfrost. The country is barely hanging by a thread, and Rnds death would send it tumbling down into the abyss.

    True, Mersie replied with a shrug. But I believe youre underestimating Rnd.

    Neither of us can tell until weve met him, I pointed out. Promise me you wont do anything reckless.

    I am never reckless.

    Then promise it to me. I crossed my arms and held my ground. Right now.

    Once again Mersies expression showed no hint of her true feelings. I could warrant a guess. She had been willing to murder dozens of nobles a scant few hours after her mark appeared on her flesh. I doubted <em>all </em>of Duke Ermelines guests were involved in her familys demise, which meant she wasfortable with coteral damage. Not to mention all the lies she had surrounded herself with.

    Even if Mersie had her reasons and worked towards a positive goal, her methods made me uneasy.

    I promise I will try to make too much trouble for you or your allies, she finally said. But I will act if I feel I must. Im sorry.

    I shrugged. No, you arent.

    I am, Mersie insisted. Youve seen what the likes of Sforza can get away with. Do you truly think you can take them all down without dirtying your hands?

    No, I conceded. But if you dirty yourself too much, youll start stinking as much as your target.

    It drew a chuckle from her. You always had a way with words, but you can be so nave sometimes. Mersie looked away. You would never have agreed to what I had in mind.

    Perhaps not. I shrugged. It wouldnt have hurt for you to tell me though.

    Mersies lips twitched for a second. I had struck a nerve, enough that she avoided the subject. You truly believe you can help this city? she asked me. Put it back on the right path?

    I do. I put my hands behind the back of my head and rxed a bit. You know me. Im good with money.

    To my astonishment, Mersie appeared a little skeptical. Youre good at making money, Robin, but youre also carelessly generous.

    I squinted at her, suddenly a little annoyed. What is that supposed to mean?

    How much did you save up over the years you spent working for Sforza? Hundreds? Mersie dared to wink at me. While you earned thousands over the years.

    Was she judging my money-management skills? <em>Mine</em>? Purchasing poison, horse rys, and an international boat trip through intermediaries that wouldnt rat me out to Sforza were quite expensive.

    But you could have saved up more, Mersie insisted. You gave away too much to others. Myself included.

    Money is like blood. Its got to circte to keep the body we call society alive. Gold buried underground in tombs and vaults served no one; not even the dead. I intended to get rich, but there was a difference between having enough wealth to fulfill your dreams and finding only pleasure in adding one more zero to a bank ount. Yeah, maybe I spent more on beggars and friends than my own person, but I dont regret any of it.

    I raised my empty cup. Especially not the money I spent on our dates.

    We had fun. For once, Mersies smile appeared genuine. I do wonder how a man like you managed to survive Ermeline and Sforza.

    I raised an eyebrow. I cannot tell if that is apliment or a criticism.

    Apliment, Mersie replied, her eyes studying me as if I were some exotic beast from a farawaynd. Im perplexed. Youre ambitious, but not even Sforza managed to chip away at your morals.

    Easy. Its <em>because </em>I had morals that I survived Ermeline. I had been nning to expose the citys corruption for years after all. Ambition does not trante to ack of scruples or being corruptible.

    I doubt that. Mersie winked at me. Im d youre an exception to the rule though.

    Thats quite the cynical take on life, I said.

    Thats the world we live in, Mersie replied before rising from her seat. Her retainer immediately moved to recover the documents and seize her travel bags. Im going to rent a room in Snowdrift for the next few weeks.

    I would avoid the <em>Gilded Wolf </em>if I were you, I replied. That establishment does not meet our health regtions.

    Im thinking of another inn on the north bank. Mersie put a hand on her waist. Youre wee to drop by anytime.

    I smiled thinly. As a friend?

    Was that a sh of disappointment I caught in her eyes? If you want.

    <em>She truly did wish to give our rtionship another go</em>. The realization made me feel a tiny bit guilty. <em>Too bad, that ship has probably sailed.</em>

    The truth was, while I liked Mersie and was willing to keep her as a friend, I had enough self-respect not to date someone who had lied to me for years. I was looking towards a healthy rtionship built on solid foundations rather than sand and nostalgia.

    Perhaps we could still have some fun. As friends. With clear boundaries and no expectations.

    Damn it, the more I thought of it, the more it sounded like a bad idea.

    Well stay in touch on how to deal with the Knots, Mersie said as I led her and her retainer back to my doors threshold. Or investments.

    I raised an eyebrow. You want to contribute to Snowdrifts renovations?

    Perhaps, if your n makes sense to me. After a moments hesitation, she kissed me on the cheek. Her touch sent a jolt of pleasure down my spine. Its good to see you again, Robin.

    Same. In spite of all the deceit, we had our good times too. I tried to focus on remembering the happy moments we shared rather than what she hid from me. Take care, Mersie.

    Mersie waved me goodbye, her silent retainer following her like a shadow. I watched them take a turn down the next alley, and then they were gone.

    What am I going to do with them? I muttered to myself. I had been looking forward to Mersies return once, but now she smelled of trouble. The Assassin, the Inquisitor, the Knight, the Artisan, the Monk, the Alchemist, and the Merchant quite the motley crew.

    A third of the heroes would soon find themselves in Snowdrift. The city would be a powder keg.

    And I needed to prepare for theing explosion.

 Chapter Twelve: Man on a Mission

    Chapter Twelve: Man on a Mission

    Marika finished our firstmercial ship the next morning. As promised, she built it within twenty-four hours.

    It was such a momentous asionthis ship being the first homologated under the Frostfire Companythat I personally visited the shipyard for the baptism as acting Lord Protector of Snowdrift. I even took Benicio away from his studies so he could see it for himself.

    I ended up giving the boy a tour of Snowdrifts newly built Arsenal, much to his delight. Stone walls kept the cacophony in alongside the musk of freshly harvested timber and the river brine. Hundreds of newly recruited workers toiled on vast cobblestone docks and creaky nks. One out of twenty wore a skill-enhancing garment of my creation, overseeing new recruits, harvesting experience, and then handing over the magic clothes to the next shift.

    Here are the warehouses where Uncle Colmar turns feces into sails, I told Benicio. Everywhere we heard the rhythmic thud of hammers, the screech of saws amputating dead trees, and the ssh of water against the piers. Here are the ces where your moms workers hammer nks and haul ropes.

    Speaking of his mother, Benicio immediately pointed at Marika. My housemate was hard at work inspecting her newest creation: a magnificent cog with a sturdy mast as tall as a tower, fluttering sails representing ourpanys white fox mascot, and a fortified prow strong enough to resist the strongest of storms. Workers from the Witchcrafting Guild strengthened the hull by infusing it with iron essence, a process that grayed its chestnut nks. Once the process waspleted, this ship would travel across Archfrosts cold waters with no fear from icy obstacles.

    I need more oil essence infusion in the hull to prevent barnacles and shells from sticking. A tiny bit more iron at the front too. Marika stopped barking orders when she heard us approach, her sons presence drawing a thin smile from her. Beni, are you skipping school?

    Beni shook his head, but did not use me either. Good. I always thought covering each others mistakes was the best foundation for a trusting rtionship. I requisitioned him as Lord Protector, I said. Imying the groundwork for his future internship.

    We dont allow childbor in this shipyard, especially from my own son, Marika chastised me lightly.

    Is this your son, Lady Marika? one of the Witchcrafting workers asked, a young woman around my age with straw hair and calloused hands. Hes adorable! Do you want to check out your mommas ship?

    Terhi, dont spoil him, Marika protested, toote. Her son gave her <em>the stare</em>the one only the most ruthless of heartless monsters could resistand faltered. Fine, but only the deck.

    Five minutester, Marikas helpers started giving Benicio a tour of the cargo hold, the mast, and the prow, much to her chagrin. I had a guard follow the kid along just in case; we had vetted every person working in this shipyard by buying their ability to deceive us, but it didnt hurt to be careful.

    Im too weak with that child, Marikained to me as she showed me around the deck. I try to set boundaries, but then he gives me that look and I feel so guilty.

    I can buy that weakness from you, I suggested half-jokingly. I activated my magical sight as I inspected the deck, studying the way the witchcrafters grafted foreign essence into the wood. Both the native and transnt were so well-intertwined I could hardly tell them apart. Though I think youre doing well. Hes no longer afraid of going to school without you.

    He is, but only because youre the one to drop him off at the church. Marika smiled warmly. I think hes starting to see you as a big brother figure.

    Aww, and here I wanted to be the dashing uncle. I suddenly froze upon noticing wisps of greenish essence in the sails. Is that wind essence?

    Youre getting better at this, Marika congratted me. Elemental infusions require a Second Awakening.

    Is that so? I asked. I saw Eris transfer fire essence into my dagger easily enough.

    Thats the thing, I think our marks let us skip that step. Marika proudly patted her ships mast. I managed to infuse this babys sails with wind essence when I could only dream of it a month ago.

    If her guess was correct, then it meant a great deal. Harvesting elemental essencethe lightning from a storm, the subtle power carried by the summer breeze, the warmth of firewas a skill that separatedmon essence witchcrafters from true magicians. By stockpiling these rare essences into runestones, thetter could achieve feats such as unleashing fireballs and thunderbolts, infusing carriages with the speed of the wind, or creating artificialkes.

    Of course, all of them paled before the true Mage, who didnt <em>need </em>runestones to rain fire down from the sky.

    So, how did it go between you and your ex? Marika asked me as we approached the prow and faced the river. Theing spring caused the ice to thaw. Since you came alone, I guess not well.

    I scoffed lightly. Youre a worse gossip than Eris.

    Im a bit worried for you, Marika confessed. Shes the Assassin, isnt she? No other hero made news in Ermeline.

    Good guess. I wont lie, I still feel an unmistakable sensation of longing when I see her. I sighed. However, weve got some major differences in values.

    Marika scowled. The heart says yes, the mind says no?

    Quite the flowery picture, but I suppose it fits. I shrugged my shoulders. Turns out she kinda lied to me for years, not to mention all the skeletons in her closet.

    I feared as much, and understand that pain all too well, Marika gave me a worried look. Did she treat you well?

    I dont regret our time together. In fact, I would probably remember our rtionship fondly. She would like to start over, but I dont think we have steady foundations to build a stable rtionship. I also dont think well see eye-to-eye on important matters.

    Marika raised an eyebrow at me. Thats a wiser take than I expected from a flirt like you.

    Come on. Im being a flirt because Im maidenless. I grinned at her coyly. Ive got to tell would-be buyers my undying love is on the market.

    You might need to move out for that. Marika returned my smile. Some of the workers actually think were together.

    I was kind of surprised it took that long for rumors to spread. We did live together with a red-headed child. Well, you were technically my wife for a boat ride.

    Marikaughed heartily. Point taken.

    You look so much happier, I noted. When I first met you, you were so sour and sad it hurt to watch. Now youve brightened up like the sun.

    I owe much of it to you, Robin. Marika stared at the river with a pleased expression. I thought I would face tough years ahead when we climbed up on that ship together. Now the city covers my debts for my work on sealing the Blight, Beni receives education for free, and I feel my work is making a difference.

    I didnt do much. As the Artisan and a talented woman, you would have bounced back without help in no time.

    Im not so sure. Having people Beni and I could count on helped me feel supported. Like I didnt have to carry the burden alone. Marika reddened a bit. Speaking of weight

    I raised an eyebrow, suddenly surprised by her sheepish expression. Yes?

    I had a silly idea. Promise you wontugh.

    How much for it? I joked before putting a hand on my chest. I promise.

    Alright. Marika gathered her breath and mustered all of her courage. Soraseo told me that they use flying balloons in the Shinkoku. They put hot air in cloth paper bags and have them fly around for celebrations. They can even carry letters or small objects.

    Ive heard of such toys, yes. I quickly caught on, much to my amusement. Marika, how many balloons would it take to lift a ship?

    I dont know, but I I kind of want to try. With my power and enough wind essence infusion, it might be feasible. Marika chuckled in embarrassment. I know thats silly.

    Its not silly, I teased her. Its <em>science</em>.

    Due to Archfrosts dangerous waters, we needed to design ships with strong hulls to avoid idents. This meant lessening the cargo capacity and building cogs rather than the better carracks the Rivend Federation favored for long-distance oceanic trade. Not to mention the fact that many of Archfrosts waterways froze in the winter, making them unusable.

    A flying vessel would neatly bypass many of these issues, not to mention the advantages of reconnaissance. And especially not to mention the achievement.

    <em>Weve mastered thend and sea</em>, I thought while staring at the clouds. <em>Why not the sky too?</em>

    Of course, there would be a few issues to solve. Weight management, safety measures, and the asional dragon in the sky. Nothing tooplicated.

    It might take a while to build a sessful prototype, so well focus on finishing the merchant fleet first, I said with a hand on the ships railguard. Once thatmission is finished, we can try to put wings on our gship.

    I havent given it a name yet, Marika confessed. That honor is yours, oh Lord Protector.

    Mine? I raised an eyebrow. Marika, you built this ship. You should be the one to name it.

    Marika wouldnt hear any of it. Ill name the next one. Youre the one who ordered our fleet built. No way the city would have funded its creation without you.

    My goddess, she was serious. Marika, thats I chuckled, a bit ufortable. Seriously, I cant ept

    You arent leaving that deck until you name my ship, Marika cut in, her arms crossed. Ill fuse you to the nks if I have to. Im serious.

    You cant fuse flesh with wood.

    Ill fuse your pants and shoes. My distress seemed to amuse her greatly. Its your own fault, Robin. Youve rubbed off too much on me.

    By the four artifacts, I had created a monster. With no way out of this bind, I was forced toe up with a name. One immediately came to mind.

    I shall name it I grinned ear to ear, delighting at the thought of one-upping my friend. The <em>Queen Marika</em>!

    What?! By now, Marika was positively blushing. You cant be serious!

    The Lord Protector of Snowdrift does not back down! I moved closer to the prow and shouted at the dockworkers, so all would bear witness to my decision. All hail the <em>Queen Marika</em>!

    All hail the <em>Queen Marika</em>! a dozen men repeated after me, pping and cheering. Poor Marikas skin had gone as red as her hair, which I found quite amusing. All hail Her Majesty!

    Robin. Marika looked fit to gag. Robin, youre killing me right now.

    You need to work on your image. The more your name spreads, the more clients will look for you. When Little Benicio emerged from the cargo hold with a guard and witchcrafter in tow, I couldnt resist a little joke. Its time to climb down from your mother, Beni. Shes going to carry a lot of weight today.

    Marika couldnt hold herugh as her son looked at her in confusion. I hate you, Robin, she chastised me without meaning it. I will retaliate, you know? I swear Ill retaliate.

    Get in line, I teased her.

    One hourterjust long enough for woodcarvers to carve the ships name on its sideBeni smashed a bottle against the <em>Queen Marikas</em> hull before a cheering crowd of workers. Wine was too pricey for Snowdrift, so we used beer. We pushed the ship into the river and watched it float on its surface.

    I had to admit the sight of that ships sails unfurling while facing the sunlight almost made me tear up. I couldnt exin it. There was something magical about a vessel taking to the waves for the first time.

    One day, I will bring this ship all the way to the Fire Inds, I whispered to Marika. To Irem, to Seukaia, and to ces you cant find on any map. Well take it all the way to the sky. I swear it.

    To my surprise, Marika didnt blow it off as a whimsy dream. I look forward to it, Robin, she answered me before looking for her son. Benicio, time to return to school.

    Unfortunately for her, her child had already moved on to a new activity. He was observing that witchcrafter from earlierTehri, I think her name wasstrengthening wood ship nks with iron essence.

    Beni? Marika asked.

    Her son moved his hand along the nk. My magical sight picked him smoothing over the essence, removing impurities, and sharpening the wood. From the way Tehri whistled, I assumed it was an impressive feat for a child his age.

    Your son is a witchcrafting wonder, dy Marika, Tehri mused. He could learn a thing or two here.

    Hes too young to work in a shipyard, Marika replied. Benicio gave her <em>the stare</em>, but this time his mother managed to resist his charm. No.

    Benicio pulled my sleeve lightly, asking for my help. I decided to indulge him. The best school is practice, Marika.

    Robin, not you too. Marika put her fists on both sides of her waist. He needs to work on his math and writing. Hell need good grades in both to join a sorcery academy.

    Hell need witchcrafting experience too, I pointed out. I knew Marika well enough to formte the perfect argument. Observing professionals toil in the field will give it to him. Besides, he doesnt have toe each day.

    Marika considered my proposal in silence while her son held her breath. Since I felt her hesitate, I delivered the coup de grce.

    Wouldnt it be better if he practiced his witchcrafting on ships rather than weapons? I asked her. It would be much safer, dont you agree?

    That did the trick. One afternoon a week on Merchday, Marika finally decided. Benicios eyes lit up with excitement. Only if you study hard at the Abbey and dont cause trouble for Tehri and the others.

    Dont worry, dy, Tehri promised with a hand on her chest. Little Benicio imitated the gesture with all the resolve of a seven-year old future apprentice. Ill look over him like a mother hen.

    Benicio hugged his mother tightly, much to her joy. After a while and a moments hesitation, he did the same with me; once again much to his mothers joy. His tiny arms closed around my legs with more strength than I expected a child his age to have.

    I suppose I could settle on being a big brother well enough.

    Youre pretty good with children, Marika said after we left the shipyard and entrusted Benicio to Tehri. She carried her trust sledgehammer on her back.

    I like kids. I found their innocence refreshing, especially whenpared with two-faced adults. I grew up in an orphanage, so Im used to them.

    Have you considered having one? Marika coughed. A child, not an orphanage.

    Maybe with the right person. I was kind of missing half of theponents required to make children for now. Its an enormousmitment Im not ready to sign on yet especially in our current situation.

    I can understand, Marika replied. Where are we going? You must have a pretty good reason to take me away from construction work and ask that I bring a weapon.

    Ive set up a training session with Soraseo, I exined. The more information I gather on Prince Rnds visit, the more I believe well need to prepare for battle.

    I feared as much. Marika nodded grimly. We would both need some practice.

    Yes, we did. We performed rather poorly against Fenrivos in spite of our skills, and we would have outright died without thetter. Purchased experience might give us the edge against normal men, but our unnatural foes required more than talent to defeat. We needed more practice, more equipment, better teamwork, and so many other things.

    Ive got a favor to ask you too, I informed Marika. Would you kindly teach me the basics of witchcrafting and essence maniption?

    You didnt find anybody to sell that knowledge to you?

    Nope. Witchcrafting was a rare skill, since unlike craftsmanship, only a small minority who underwent the right rites could manipte essence. No member of the Witchcrafting Guild wanted to part with a knowledge they paid a fortune to acquire; and even if we incorporated the skills into a cloth, few people would be able to apply it practically. I might need to travel beyond Snowdrift to find a seller.

    Yeah, youd have better luck finding retired witchcrafters in the capital. Marika smiled. Ill give you homework at the same time as Beni.

    Ill follow lessons meant for children? Iughed. I wonder how I should take it.

    Its never toote to start witchcrafting, Marika teased me. Besides, your power should help you with it. If you can transfer essence through a transaction, youll skip the hardest steps of our work.

    Good to know, but I still needed a crash course in witchcrafting. Using my power for essence transfer required a partner after all; something I might not always be able to rely on in the field.

    Soraseo and the city watch had set up barricades near the Forbidden Districtthe informal name Snowdrifts citizens gave to the sealed zone surrounding the Blightto react quicker in case of a breakthrough. Marika and I found our teammate practicing her swordsmanship with six guards under Colmars watchful eye. The Alchemist observed the fight from afar, ready to intervene should one require medical attention though I wouldnt call what I saw a fight.

    Six or six hundred, it wouldnt have made a difference against Soraseo. Of the soldiers that surrounded her, two wereying face-down on the cobblestone floor, one sat against an abandoned buildings wall in a daze, and the other three didnt dare to attack Soraseo although they surrounded her from all sides. Her curved de was steady, while her opponents broadswords trembled in their hands.

    You are holding your sword too tight, Ivarson, Soraseo chastised the soldier, Loth, you are keeping your de too low. I can open your throat with mine if I have the will.

    One of the soldiersI guessed Loth from the way he wielded his weaponlost his nerve and charged Soraseo head-on. His allies swiftly attempted to nk the Monk, but theirck of coordination cost them precious seconds. Soraseo parried Loths strike with such strength that he stumbled back onto the ground. She then sidestepped around one of her nker''s swords, kicked him in the chest so hard he ended up crashing against the barricade, and leveraged her curved swords superior reach to threaten herst foes neck before he could close the gap between them.

    Marika winced upon seeing the defeated soldiers. Arent you being a bit too rough?

    I have no patience left. Soraseo nted her sword on the ground. You must attack when I attack. Do not give me time to recover my breath. You must keep me on the wrong foot.

    Back foot, Colmar corrected her. The Alchemist checked up on the soldiers, but Soraseo didnt hit them <em>that </em>hard. The proper expression is <em>to keep them on the back foot</em>.

    I shall keep the memory. Soraseo sheathed her sword. Ragni, you have made the most progress. You must carry more weight and eat more beef to build stronger muscles.

    I smiled as Soraseo began to review what mistakes the guardsmitted and how they could improve. Our dear Monk had agreed to my training program suggestion: she sold knowledge of fighting stances to warriors, then used her power to swiftly relearn them. Soraseo''s swordsmanship focused on long curved swords, but she was familiar with all forms of weapons and quickly picked up cues from watching knights at the ck Keep.

    Though we mostly used her ability to train more guards, we also began to use it to create more cksmith, musician, and other physical and skilledbor garments. Those werent as efficient as clothes holding a lifetime of experience, since Soraseos power only replicated physical movements, but they could help train debutants.

    However, we encountered a w with that strategy: namely, there was no single fighting stance that could fit everyone perfectly. Soraseos lean and graceful bulk differed from the average recruit, so while transnting her knowledge gave our guards a technical understanding of fighting, they still needed quite a lot of practice to develop the correct muscle memory.

    On the other hand, Soraseos understanding of motion let her intuitively detect ws in the stances and movements of our soldiers, which she could then correct. This made her an excellent tutor.

    <em>She feelsfortable in an army</em>, I thought as I observed Soraseo force a guard to straighten his back and lower his fists to practice a hand-to-hand martial art. <em>Shes familiar with training soldiers.</em>

    Id pegged Soraseo as an introvert. She rarely sought social contact for its own sake and preferred to keep to herself when not needed. Many times I found her following a rigid routine of sword training in the early morning and biwa singing in the evening. We often yed thetter together when paperwork didnt get in the way, but Soraseo would still y if no one listened to her. The only social activity she actively sought out was martial training, and she naturally gave orders in spite of thenguage barrier.

    She must have been an army captain before her exile, perhaps amander. I couldnt exin her familiarity with small unit tactics and natural authority otherwise.

    Shall we have training now? Soraseo asked me. I was told there would be one more.

    I shrugged my shoulders. Clearly not.

    I had invited Mersie to join us, both to introduce her to her fellow heroes and see how our powers could synergize<em>. I do my best work in the shadows</em>, she had told me when I visited the inn where she stayed at dawn, <em>when no one sees meing.</em>

    Then again, maybe the Assassin didnt need training. Mersie managed to y a rooms worth of nobles without alerting the outside world. I had no doubt she was the deadliest of us all.

    I am unsure why you invited me too, Robin, Colmar said. I told you I dislike killing. A scalpel is the only de I wish to use.

    Marika scowled. Our enemies wont show you the same mercy, Colmar.

    Even so, I have sworn to save lives, not to take them. Colmar raised a hand and observed his gloved palm. If I must incapacitate a foe, it will take no more than a single brush.

    A secondter, an edged de materialized against his throat.

    It took me a few seconds to realize that Soraseo unsheathed her sword so quickly our eyes couldnt follow her movement. Colmar stared at the de warily, and then at its wielder.

    Touch me now, Soraseo ordered the Alchemist with a daring tone. Before my de cuts your head.

    Colmar wisely raised his hands in surrender. I see your point.

    Your power can turn a man to stone easily enough, but its useless at range, I pointed out. You should at least train to fight enemies with superior reach. For the sake of both your life and those you will be called to protect.

    Soraseo lowered her weapon. If you will not learn sword techniques, I will teach you to use your hands and feet.

    Colmar gave up. Fine, fine.

    We will start with spars, so I can gain understanding of you, Soraseo decided. Marika, Robin, please

    The sound of pping wings above our heads interrupted her. I raised my eyes to see a familiar, silvery pegasusnd upon the training grounds with an armored rider on its back.

    ire.

    Snowdrifts new Countess seemed to have gained a few years since Ist saw her. Her red-rimmed eyes carried the crust of dried tears, and her skin had gotten paler. She all but jumped off her winged horse, her boots making a loud thump noise as they hit the ground.

    Somebody duel me, ire asked immediately, skipping through all courtesy. She already had her hand on her swords hilt. I need to clear my mind.

    I studied ire and immediately recognized worrying signs. The nervous way she held onto her swords hilt, the pressure on her shoulders the stress of her position was getting to her.

    I volunteer, I said, mostly for her sake.

    ire nodded at me thankfully. "Then draw your sword."

    "Wait, wait, a duel should always have a wager on the line." I drew my rapier and dagger. That way, well give our all.

    ire pondered my proposal before quickly epting. If I win, I will keep my braid.

    I already won it. I scoffed. You want to shortchange me?

    Afraid I will win? She taunted me.

    Well, she asked for it. I wondered about my wager. I needed something funny. Something that would amuse ire and bring her some levity.

    If I win, I said. Youll let me name one of our ships <em>Pony Princess ire</em>.

    ire rolled her eyes, while Marika scoffed. What is it with you and ship names? thetter asked. Theyre just embarrassing.

    Youll get used to it, I replied.

    Fine, ire said, drawing her bastard sword. Do your worst, Robin.

    Soraseo nodded in agreement. Colmar and Marika, you will have a spar too.

    I please ask that you use blunted weapons and lessen the strength of your blows, Colmar pleaded. Damaging my suit could worsen my condition.

    Ill do my best to hold back, Marika replied with a grin.

    Soraseo traced a line along the training ground to set how much space each duo could use. I did some footwork to prepare myself while ire simply waited with her sword in hand. My duelist skills infused my mind with information on how to proceed.

    My rapier was longer and better at striking unarmored points than a bastard sword, but ires weapon carried more strength and weight. Parrying one of her blows might snap my de in half. My best bet was to keep my distance, stay at range, and use my dagger to deflect a blow I couldnt dodge.

    ire understood that as well. She would probably try to engage me at close-range, using defensive maneuvers until she could get close enough tond a decisive blow.

    <em>I need to exhaust her</em>, I thought. <em>Tire her out, then strike.</em>

    Be ready, Soraseo said, ire and I gathering our breath. Go!

    ire lunged at me in an instant.

    <em>Shes quick</em>, I thought. I stepped to the right to put some space between us, but ire predicted my move and closed the gap. Our new countess raised her sword and aimed at my chest.

    It will cost you an arm to strike me, I lied.

    What? My words distracted ire enough to interrupt her motion. No!

    I exploited her confusion to strike back, my rapier lunging for her throat. ire parried my blow in the nick of time with her weapons crossguard. The tip of my rapier bounced off her weapon and I darted back to maintain a safe distance.

    You dare use your powers in a spar? ireined. Thats cheating!

    Soraseo looked away from Marika and Colmars matchwhich amounted to thetter running away from the formerjust long enough to shake her head. In battle, everything is forgiven.

    You heard the referee, I taunted ire, trying to bait her into making a mistake. I feinted with my rapier, pretending to aim for her leg. She answered with wide swings to keep me at bay. My thrusts were akin to viper bites, quick and deadly; but ire parried them all. Her sweeping counter-attacks carried all her weight behind them.

    I moved around her with a cats swiftness, never letting her get too close. ire, however, didnt fall for my n. Instead of tiring herself out answering my constant provocation, she used as little force as she needed to keep me at bay. In contrast to my shy hit and runs, my opponents movements were grounded and steady.

    <em>Shes talented</em>, I thought. My skills were only as good as the one who sold them to me. Ser Hugdan had been a talented duelist, but he had been no master either. ire was more than a match for me. I couldnt find a way past her tight defense. <em>I need to create an opening.</em>

    Once again I resorted to a feint. I lowered my rapier against the ground, grazed it, and threw dirt at ires face.

    My opponent raised her arms to protect her eyes. I darted forward to exploit her crumbling defense with both weapons ready. ire lowered her sword upon realizing the danger, but I swiftly deflected her de with my dagger and aimed for her throat with my rapier.

    She dodged.

    To my astonishment, ire deftly moved her head to the side to avoid my rapier. The tip of my weapon missed her throat while the rest of her closed in. Before I realized what was happening, ire swiftly punched me in the stomach with her free hand and kicked my right knee as I stumbled and fell onto the ground.

    When I looked up, ires sword had moved within an inch of my throat.

    I win, she said with a joyful, happy smile.

    Youll keep your braid, I conceded, much to my annoyance. I hated losing, even against someone I considered a friend. Do you feel better now?

    A bit. ire grabbed my arm and helped me back to my feet. Thank you for indulging me.

    Did you just thank me? I chuckled. What have you done with the real ire?

    Dont push your luck, Robin, the countess replied, though with a thin smile on her lips.

    How are you holding up, Lady ire? Marika asked, having beaten Colmar into the ground with one weak blow of her sledgehammer to the stomach. You seemed in a foul mood.

    I am still, ire admitted. It annoys me to see so many carrion-eaters crawl out of the woodwork the moment my grandfather perishes. I should purge them all.

    I dont think it would help with your poprity, I pointed out.

    Hence why I grit my teeth and try to ignore them. ire stabbed the ground with her sword. Was our performance satisfactory, Lady Soraseo?

    Soraseo nodded sharply. Considering her own strength, I took the gesture as an extraordinary mark of respect. You have the talent, but you need more lightness. We will work on your footwork.

    What about me? I asked.

    Unfortunately, Soraseo proved a little harsher on me. You have the knowledge, but you are predictable. When your head says one thing, your body does not listen quickly enough. Marika is having the same problem.

    We need to build up muscle memory so our skills adjust to our bodies, Marika summed it up. Then improve upon them.

    Indeed. Ser Hugdans skills served me well, but they could still be strengthened.

    In your case, Colmar, we must start from zero, Soraseo said. You need to gain more muscles."

    My condition makes that difficult, Colmar confessed.

    Then we must sharpen your instincts. We will be increasing your swiftiness.

    Increase my speed, Colmar corrected her. I didnt expect him to be such a stickler for grammar. Swiftness, not swiftiness.

    I shall have remembrance, Soraseo replied. I will be giving you exercises for the week.

    ire coughed slightly. Lady Soraseo, before you do so, I have something to give you.

    I held my breath as ire grabbed a letter from her pocket and handed it to Soraseo. I immediately recognized the bear-shaped wax seal on its surface: that of Duke Sigismund, Prince Rnds uncle, and master of Stonegarde.

    The letter arrived this morning, Lady Soraseo, ire exined. This should grant you passage through Stonegarde.

    Soraseo examined the letter for a long minute, her face utterly nk. I personally held my breath. Our beloved Monk had waited many days for it with impatience. Considering her obsession with reaching the Deadgate, I half-expected her to depart Snowdrift on the spot.

    To my surprise, Soraseo simply slipped the letter inside her armor. Thank you, Lady ire, she said with a short, respectful bow. But I will not be leaving now.

    Whys that? Marika asked her. She sounded about as surprised as I was, if slightly relieved too. Soraseo had be arade, and our teams powerhouse.

    The enemy is not defeated yet. Soraseo pointed at the sealed <em>Gilded Wolf </em>with her sword. The Deadgate will not move for a week. Our foes will.

    <em>The mark chose her well</em>, I thought. I was d she put themon good above her personal quest, at least for now. Since youre all here, I have worrying intelligence to discuss.

    Though I decided not to mention how Mersie gathered the information she passed on to me, I shared everything else with the group. I did not believe in keeping too many secrets from my allies, and I trusted their discretion.

    ires scowl only deepened the more I spoke. The Knot of Greed infiltrated our government?

    Its what my source said, I confirmed. It would exin how Fenrivos got away with his crimes.

    I am more concerned about the Demon Ancestors marks, Colmar said. I find the implications worrying.

    Demons lie, Soraseo insisted. It is a trick to mock and deceive us.

    It could be, Colmar conceded. But this should call for an investigation.

    Marika crossed her arms. I dont know much about Archfrosts political situation, but if demons have infiltrated its government, shouldnt they have made a move on the prince already?

    The prince is well-protected, ire replied with a scoff. Wouldnt surprise me if demons were on the rebels side.

    How so? I asked her. I mean, I vaguely know the reasons behind the civil war, but perhaps your grandfather shared details with you that I am not aware of.

    ire crossed her arms. Archfrosts south has always been more fertile than the north, with its own culture, she exined. Fifteen years ago, southern nobles started protesting against King Chernovs taxes. The leading figure behind the protest was thete Duke of Walbourg, Ingaslov.

    Who was assassinated fifteen years ago, I remembered.

    ire nodded. His widow Griselda used the then-King Chernov of the crime and raised her banner in revolt, with many nobles choosing her side. The resulting civil warsted three years, and ended in a truce after the gue devastated both sides. King Chernov perished in battle too, leaving his young son Rnd under his brother and wifes regency.

    The trucested twelve years, but did not resolve anything. The Duchy of Walbourg and its supporters maintained de facto autonomy from Archfrost, while the kingdom sought to recapture them. Both groups had been building up their strength in anticipation of renewed hostilities.

    Did he? Marika asked. I mean, the king. Did he really assassinate the duke?

    No one knows, not even my grandfather, ire said. He protested otherwise, but he had the means and motives. The kings loyalists im Griselda did it, though they couldnt provide any proof. However, if the Knots are truly involved

    Then it could have been a set-up, I finished for her with gritted teeth. A demon setting both sides against each other to destabilize the kingdom.

    If so, then my grudge against the Knots would only deepen. The war brought Archfrost to its knees and worsened the already terrible Purple gue. The demons might not have in my parents, but theyid the groundwork for it.

    <em>We should investigate Walbourg</em>, I thought. The frozen conflict between the south and the north only served to weaken the country in difficult times. <em>If we get to the bottom of the matter, well find the Knot of Greeds leader.</em>

    Once again, the sound of pping wings drew me out of my thoughts. Another pegasus knightnded within the training ground.

    Lady ire! Lady ire! The messenger presented a letter to ire. Urgent news from the capital!

    ire grabbed the document, snatched it open, and cursed once she finished reading it. They have found the Cavalier.

    The Cavalier? I repeated. The Cavalier was one of the Knights vassals alongside the Monk. Why do you look so angry? This is good news.

    Shes in Walbourg. ire spat on the ground. On the rebels side.

 Chapter Thirteen: A Penny for a Soul

    Chapter Thirteen: A Penny for a Soul

    In a way, we should have seen thising.

    The Knight would soon rule a country with rebellious vassals. Now, one of his Vassal sses had joined the very same uprising. I wondered if Prince Rnd saw the irony of the situation, though I doubted he would appreciate it.

    What do we know about the Cavalier? I asked ire.

    ording to the letter, she is a mercenary called Verni, ire scowled angrily. The news did not please her at all. Shes the current captain of the Moonlight Riderspany.

    Ive heard of them, Marika said. My viges lord employed them to wipe out bandits a few years ago.

    It must have been one of their smaller bands, ire replied. The Moonlight Riders are one of Pangealsrgest mercenarypanies. Theyve fought in every conflict over thest century, including our own civil war.

    And they can field ten thousand soldiers, I pointed out. Quite the force to be reckoned with.

    Especially with a hero at their helm, Colmar added with a grave nod. The Cavalier is said to be able to ride monsters into battle.

    This one rides a firehawk, or so the report says, ire said as she clenched the letter in her hand. Duchess Griselda gave the Moonlight Riders stewardship of Riverstone.

    Riverstone was a strategic fortress-city damming the river separating Archfrost from the Duchy of Walbourg. Any army wishing to invade Griseldasnds from the north would have to take it. In fact, Archfrostste former king died in a failed siege to seize it from the rebels. So long as it remained in Griseldas hands, the kingdom had little hope of reiming their lost duchy.

    <em>Events are elerating</em>, I thought. If Griselda built up her forces in Riverstone, then it meant she anticipated new hostilities. Between Walbourg in the south and the beastmen in the north, Archfrost might soon find itself fighting a war on two fronts.

    Does Prince Rnd intend to march on Walbourg? I asked ire.

    She shook her head. Not that I know of, but Griselda wouldnt hire ten thousand soldiers just for posturing.

    No, clearly not, I replied.

    Mercenaries have no trust, either in themselves or others, Soraseo said with contempt. They worship money rather than duty.

    Untrustworthy mercenaries tend not to find much employment, ire replied. The Moonlight Riders are expensive, but reliable.

    Only as long as Griselda can pay them, I replied. Ten thousand soldiers cost their weight in gold to hire, not to mention the upkeep.

    Archfrosts southernnds are richer than the northern regions, and Griselda spent years building up a war chest. Im not certain we can outbid her, ire said before giving me a knowing look. Not with gold at least.

    Now were talking, I said with a grim chuckle. Unfortunately, we kind of have our hands full with Snowdrift for the moment.

    Agreed. ire folded the letter into a pocket attached to her pegasus saddle. Our focus, for now, should be to contain the Blight. If Prince Rnd requires your assistance, he will ask for it on his official visit.

    Colmar crossed his arms. Must we truly y politics? I feel this will distract us from more important concerns.

    We wont have a choice, I replied with a shrug. If you dont do politics, politics will do you. A new civil war will take more lives than the Blight.

    We should try to reason with the Cavalier, Marika said. No arrow has been fired yet. We can still talk them down.

    ire scoffed. With all due respect, Lady Marika, I do not believe words alone will amount to anything.

    We cannot say that until we try, Marika insisted. A letter will cost us nothing.

    I admired Marikas optimism. I did not share it, but I admired it. Though she had a point that nicely worded letters cost us little, cheap methods rarely yielded the best results. It might help up openmunications with the Cavalier, but high-minded mercenaries rarelysted long. Verni would probably require tangible benefits to join us.

    On the other hand, she was a hero. The mark wouldnt have chosen her if she was merely interested in money.

    Oh well, they did say the quill was stronger than the sword. We could at least try.

    Is anyone up for another spar? ire asked with a hand on her swords hilt. I need to vent.

    I am already standing, Soraseo replied with a confused look, once again missing the metaphor.

    We sparred for two more hours. Out of five spars, ire beat me three times, we drew once, and I managed to beat her in ourst encounter thanks to Soraseos advice. Since I was lean and nimble, she gave me footwork exercises to further improve my speed and taught me a few feints. ire remained better than me, but I had high hopes of catching up to her.

    Marika made fast progress too. Her cksmith work built up her muscles, with her only real weakness being her inexperience. The more she sparred, the morefortable she became with fighting.

    As for Colmar Rather than take years to turn him into a decent fighter, we ended up selling him some of Soraseos aptitude at hand-to-hand and having her learn it back with her Monk powers.

    Though the sparring session concluded afterward, my own training had only begun. The limits of Ser Hugdans dueling aptitudes reminded me that for all of my powers versatility, I was only as good as the person I purchased the skills from. If I were to survive the ordeals ahead, I needed to gain an edge.

    Are you returning to the ck Keep? I asked ire as she climbed atop her pegasus. Can you give me a lift?

    A lift? ire looked at me as if I had just grown a second head. On Silverines back?

    Yes, I replied nonchntly. Whys that?

    She studied my face with a suspicious look, looking for a bluff that wasnt there. What happened to your fear of heights?

    I smirked smugly. I sold it away.

    ire blinked a few times in shock. She heard my words, but it took her a few seconds to understand them. And once she did, she all but choked in shock and outrage.

    You <em>sold </em>it?! ire appeared more surprised than offended. Meanwhile, her smartass pegasus looked down on me in silent judgment. To whom?!

    A prisoner. Well, truthfully, I only sold away my <em>fear of</em><em>riding a pegasus at a high altitude</em> as part of a test. Selling away my fear of heights entirely might have proved a bad idea. Terror was meant to warn us away from danger, and I didnt want to risk jumping into a void because I had be a fearless fool. He wont be in a position to suffer from it anyway.

    That should count as an abuse of power, ire chastised me, though with a thin smile. But I will concede it is clever.

    Enough to buy me a lift? I teased her.

    ire nodded. Climb on.

    The pegasus took flight a minuteter, the beast carrying us away from Snowdrifts cobblestone alleys to the sky above it. Unfortunately, my fear lessened but did not disappear; looking into the void below still quickened my pulsesince I kept my general fear of heightsbut I somewhat felt safe atop the pegasus, since riding on its back no longer scared me.

    <em>Selling away emotions could help in moderation, </em>I thought. <em>But</em> if I <em>sell away</em><em>too much, something irreceable might be lost in the transaction.</em>

    A pity I never managed to sessfully sell away my procrastination. I supposed it counted as an absence of work ethic.

    I have a favor to ask you, Robin, ire asked, her face facing the blowing wind.

    Considering her grim tone, it had to be pretty important. What do you need?

    A Lord Protector and Counsel is only meant to assist an heir until they inherit. Unfortunately, that time hase. ire gathered her breath, as if she were about to ask me to sell her the moon. I would like to keep you on as my advisor. You will keep the same responsibilities you have now and speak with my voice.

    So keep doing what Ive been doing so far? I scoffed, having expected worse. You didnt need to ask me that.

    I did. You swore yourself to the former count. As the new countess, I must formally request it.

    I guess you would need to. ires im remained shaky, so giving me an official position rather than coasting on her grandfathers prior decisions meant she could rule in her own name. Still, you dont have to ask me so formally. I believe we went past that once we waged war over your braid.

    ire chuckled lightly. You started it.

    And you joined in.

    Much to my shame. ire looked over her shoulder and smiled warmly at me. I appreciate your support, Robin. When we first met, I thought you were a greedy, lustful scoundrel. Im d there was more to you than that.

    More to me? I squinted at her. You still consider me a greedy and lustful scoundrel?

    Your better qualities obscure your ws, ire lightly teased me. Your intelligence and charm make up for the rest.

    Careful, some say you might like me, I teased her.

    ires smile faded away instantly.

    I immediately realized I had made a mistake. Did I say something inappropriate? I asked, trying to salvage things. If so, I apologize.

    ire averted my gaze. You know I was born out of wedlock?

    I remember telling you it didnt matter to me.

    It matters to <em>me</em>, ire snapped angrily. And everyone else!

    I opened my mouth to answer, but then wisely closed it without saying a word. The pain in ires voice, the way her scowl deepened I had stepped on an open wound. ire let out a sigh and decided to enlighten me.

    Many years ago, my mother had an affair with amoner. My mother refused to identify him. ires expression only darkened further. My grandfather was furious, since he had hoped to marry her to Ser Hugdans father. He exiled my mother to an Arcane Abbey convent after an argument, where she gave birth to me.

    My stomach lurched, and not from the flight. Thats what you meant when you said you spent half your life in a library?

    ire nodded curtly. My opinion of thete count decreased quite a bit. I understood that his position as a noble might have required him to act that way, but abandoning his daughter for falling in love with the wrong person struck me as quite heartless.

    We had a few good years at first, but then ire took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, as if to expel poison out of her lungs. My mother went mad.

    I listened in silence, knowing she was pouring out her heart to me.

    She came to believe she was made of ss and could shatter at any moment. She ran around wildly, fleeing from invisible assassins, and recoiled from everyone. ires pale eyes brimmed with sorrow. She pped me when I tried to hug her once, screaming that I wanted to kill her. I was seven back then.

    Thats awful, I whispered. I am so sorry.

    ire looked over her mounts pping wings and at the ck Keep. We had almost reached the stables. My grandfather took me back to the castle afterward for my own safety. Two yearster, an idental fire burned the convent to the ground and my mother along with it.

    I I had no idea. I suspected ire might have suffered a great deal from her lineage, but I hadnt expected such a harrowing ordeal. No wonder she was sensitive about her birth and past. I didnt mean to step on an old wound.

    Our pegasusnded near the stables. The beasts hooves softly touched the courtyards dirt without a sound. ire said no word for a short while, before turning her head and meeting my gaze.

    I will not end up like my mother, Robin, she finally said. As a countess of Archfrost, and a bastard with a shaky im, I must appear without reproach.

    It didnt take me long to understand her problem. Youre afraid rumors will spread that were having an affair, which will drawparisons to your mother.

    Yes. ire climbed down from her pegasus and invited me to do the same. It is best that we maintain a professional distance from now on, at least in public.

    I smiled ear to ear. Does this mean I can still tease you in private?

    You c ires cheeks reddened a bit. Do not joke about this!

    A simple yes or no would have been enough, I teased her further.

    You could not handle me in private, ire said with the most oblivious tone I had ever seen. I gave her a knowing look, causing her to blush further. Her hand moved to cover her mouth in an attempt to hide her embarrassment, then tightened into a fist. I mean shut up!

    I havent said anything. She was doing a fine job at digging herself a deeper hole on her own.

    Im serious. ire red at me after recovering a measure of dignity. Swear not to do this in public.

    I swear it, I said with a hand on my chest. I would miss embarrassing her in public, but I would more than make up for it in private. I will be the most professional, dullest advisor you have ever had.

    I supposed it would be the best for her, though frustrating. Archfrosts nobility wouldnt have looked at it twice if she had been a man fathering a bastard out of wedlock. The current regent openly kept mistresses. ire shouldnt have to suffer for the sake of others outdated opinions.

    You hate being the new Countess Brynslow, dont you? I guessed. You would be happier as a wandering knight, with none of the pressures and expectations of a noble title.

    ire scowled. Whether I like my title or not does not matter.

    Which meant that yes, ire did hate her noble title and what it represented, but she felt she had no escape. Except I could offer her one. Why not simply sell it away? I asked her. Even if Prince Rnd will probably ask to have a voice in the matter, Im sure we could find a decent caretaker for your estate and title.

    Some things cannot be sold away, Robin. ire sighed. As thest Brynslow, any sessors im will remain unsecure so long as I live. Besides, I truly wish to protect thisnd and see its citizens prosper. To honor my houses legacy.

    I can understand thetter, since you may not be certain your sessor shares your dedication, I conceded. But you owe nothing to long dead ghosts. Your lineage shouldnt decide who you are.

    ire locked eyes with me. Didnt youe to this city to honor two ghostsst wish?

    I had no answer to that.

    ire was right, I dide to Snowdrift to honor my parentsst wish. I had no right to criticize her attempt to live up to her ancestors legacy. I recognized the intensity in her gaze. Those were the eyes of someone with values and convictions.

    Part of me wondered why ire insisted on putting such a heavy burden on her shoulders but it would have been easy for me to go along with Sforzas crimes in Ermeline. It would have made my life easier. Instead, I stuck to the hard road because I believed in it. ire had chosen the same. She might not like the sacrifices she would have to make for honors sake, but she intended to stick with them.

    After a minute of heavy silence, ire awkwardly attempted to restart the conversation. Have I finally left the wily Merchant speechless?

    Youve won this debate, I conceded with a chuckle. Anyway, Ill support you with whatever you decide.

    I appreciate it. ire shifted a bit, as if hesitating to discuss something, before changing subject. Why did you want to return to the ck Keep?

    I have a few more tests in mind for my power. I put a hand on my waist. Want toe? Itll be just us and a helpless prisoner bending reality to the will ofmerce.

    Unfortunately, I have a princes wee to prepare for. ire smiled thinly. Perhaps another time.

    Any time, ire. I waved her goodbye and left her there.

    I could feel her gaze linger on my back long after.

    Is it my turn? a male prisoner asked as I walked into his cell. I recognized him as the same graverobber who swore away his freedom to avoid the death penalty. What happened to the others?

    Most are fine, I answered.

    This didnt reassure him. <em>Most</em>?

    Most, except the two that died in that terrible strength experiment. Todays tests shouldnt be too dangerous, I exined. After trading items and personal traits, I would now like to try out loans.

    Not dangerous he says, the man grumbled under his breath. I should have seen iting when the jailers told me you guys were opening a bank

    Thankfully for you, institutions write down their contracts. I presented him with a quill, ink, and a written document where I offered the prisoner my gambling skills in exchange for the color of his hair. Heres the trick: as per thest use, each of our investments will return to us after ten minutes.

    The prisoner wisely read before signing. There we go.

    My mark glowed, and yet his lustrous ck hair did not turn white. Nor did my wonderful gingerness surrender to a tide of darkness. I remembered how to y Arcane Arrows, how to count cards, and how to cheat at dice.

    In short, my power had refused to validate the transaction.

    Interesting, I noted before drafting a second contract. Well make the same deal, but this time I will keep your hair color after the ten minutes ends. Then my gambling skills will return to me.

    Thats robbery! the prisonerined, his hands jumping to his head.

    If its state-mandated, its called expropriation. I invited him to sign the new contract. Youll bepensated for your capiry troubles.

    Are you the Merchant or the Rogue?! the man cursed me as he wrote down yes on the document.

    This attempt resulted in another failure. So did the ten next attempts, where I switched through various time periods going from minutes and hours to months and years, or switched gambling skills and hair color for gold, years, and a dozen other goods Id traded sessfully in the past. No matter how many times I rewrote the terms, my power would not validate exchanges if I included a limited duration.

    Eris told me that the Merchant could buy and sell anything. She might have been more right than she knew. I could literally only <em>sell </em>or <em>buy </em>things. And I couldnt borrow or rent things out.

    Lets try services then, I said. I will pay you one silver coin for a big happy smile. Try not to scowl.

    Im always scowling, the man replied as I activated my power and handed him the money. A secondter, my mark activated and returned the coin to my hand. Seems like a bust, redhead.

    How strange. That order appeared simple enough. I decided on a moreplex order. Now, can you punch something?

    Punch at what? the prisoner asked. The wall?

    I chuckled. Anything thats not me.

    Once again, my power refused to validate the trade, and again when I asked him to jump. In fact, my power refused any trade that involved an action on the other partys part. Come to think of it, my power neverpelled anyone to hand a coin back to me when my allies and I first experimented with it. If they refused to move, it simply teleported the money to its new owner.

    Colmars hypothesis on his power came to mind: that in the case of uncertainty, it defaulted back to the easiest solution. My ability might very well work on the same principles.

    Lets write down a new contract, I informed the prisoner. I will sell you my red hair for three silver coins, which you are to give to me in thirty minutes.

    I dont have those, the prisoner pointed out.

    Not yet. I bought three silver coins from my pocket. But you will have them when the timees up.

    We both signed the contract, and my power still refused to activate. I gave the prisoner his three coins, to no avail. My eyes instantly widened in surprise. Interesting

    What? the prisoner snorted. Its just another bust.

    Dont you see the important part? I pointed at the contract. Its already signed and I gave you the coins. My power should have returned them to my hand and traded away my red hair

    The conditions for the contract to activate were gathered and we both signed it. So why didnt my power validate the trade? A hypothesis formed in my mind.

    <em>What if the Merchants ability only triggers when the conditions for the trade are fulfilled at the moment consent is given?</em> I wondered. <em>If the exchanges terms cant be fulfilled at the moment it is agreed upon, then my power might require a new trade rather than validate the old one.</em>

    I decided on a new test to confirm my idea. Im going to offer you to trade your three silver coins for a golden one, I informed the prisoner. However, you must hold your tongue for a full five minutes before saying yes.

    The prisoner stared at me in a silence that stretched on, and on, and on. I quickly learned that five minutes felt agonizingly long with nothing to make them entertaining. I let out a sigh of relief when my test subject finally opened his mouth. I agree.

    My mark glowed. A secondter, three silver coins glittered where my golden one used to be.

    Excellent, I said. Now, I will offer the opposite trade. However, instead of silence, you must answer something inane with your first sentence, and then say, I agree to the trade.

    The man rolled his eyes. This is getting stupider by the second.

    I dont pay you toin, I replied.

    You dont pay me at all, the prisonerined. Come to think of it, I should get around to remembering his name.

    I pay you in thanks and gratitude. I presented my money. I will offer you three silver coins for your golden one.

    The prisoner waited for a whileI didnt think hested the required five minutesbefore inventing something on the spot. Its a wonderful day outside, he said with an utterck of enthusiasm. The sun is shining and flowers are blooming, birds are singing. And I agree to your stupid offer.

    As I expected, my power did not activate this time. The nonsensical sentences preceding the agreement had confused it.

    Final test. I wrote down a contract saying I would exchange two of his golden coinswhich he didnt have yetfor three silver. Im going to sign this document first. However, you will only sign <em>after </em>I give you the correct amount of coins.

    I should have chosen execution, the manined. The noose would have been swifter than dying of boredom.

    The most interesting trade wille right after, I promised him while signing the contract. I followed by giving him the extra gold he required and then presenting him with the document. Here you go.

    The prisoner wrote I agree on the paper sheet, at which point his two golden coins switched ces with my three silver. Why did it work this time? he wondered out loud.

    Since I intended to purchase his memory of our session after wepleted the final tests, I decided to enlighten him. I believe my power does not tolerate uncertainty, I exined. It triggers when both parties have consented in clear enough terms.

    So while my power would force a trade if an individual agreed to a deal without meaning to, it still required clear enough confirmation. Otherwise, it couldnt tell if the target agreed to the correct bargain or not. A written contract sidestepped that problem so long as the two parties did not sign at the same time.

    It also exined why I struggled to buy services or borrow anything. Unlike goods and personal qualities, actions and loans involved the possibility of failure. A person could be incapacitated before they could fulfill the action I paid them for, or die before the time I allocated them for lent skills was exhausted.

    <em>This must be why my power ages people when they sell me years</em>, I thought. The date when men perished wasnt set in stone, so my power settled on aging the seller for the sake of guaranteeing the trade.

    On one hand, this greatly diminished the scope of my power. I couldntpel any action with the possibility of failure, except the trade of goodsin which case my power simply teleported those around. On the other hand, time-dyed contract signatures could potentially allow me to teleport goods across vast distances.

    Colmar was right, I couldnt solve all my problems with my ss powers. But the more I understood its limits, the more I could refine my options.

    Are we done? the prisoner asked. I was promised better food for my cooperation.

    Almost, I replied before grabbing a golden coin. Looking at it reminded me so much of that cursed demon artifact that transformed both Sforza and Fenrivos into demons; only the ghoulish skull staring back at me was missing. Were almost done.

    I could have run these tests with any of my allies. However, there was <em>one </em>thing I hadnt yet tried to buy. Something so subtle and yet so important, that I doubted anyone sane enough would trade it away.

    I hesitated to ask for it even now. My mark shone in response, as if sensing my doubt. I couldnt tell whether I should take it as a sign to stop or carry on.

    <em>I have to know</em>, I told myself, trying to muster my courage.<em> If this works, then then it might confirm Mersies words.</em>

    Are we doing this or what? the prisonerined, his feet shifting in impatience.

    Well, he asked for it. I ced the coin inside his palm.

    I want you to sell me your soul along with this coin, I said, the mark shining on my hand, As a package deal.

    The prisoner turned silent as a tomb when he realized what I had asked of him. The existence of souls was well-known across Pangeal. Everyone knew how they returned to the Soulforge for the purpose of reincarnation. Though undead manifested under specific circumstances and unsavory witchcrafters could extract enough essence from a person to imbue items with a personality, all attempts at artificially removing a soul from the cycle of rebirth had ended in failure. Even Apocris, the most powerful sorcerer-king to have ruled the Magocracy of Irem, never achieved this feat.

    Only the Devil of Greed managed to purchase souls to my knowledge. If my power could do the same then it would raise many questions.

    My soul? the prisoner rasped, his hands trembling. No. No, no way. I will die.

    Ive seen individuals survive without a soul. Sforza and his kind came to mind. Its possible.

    But not guaranteed. The prisoner shook his head. I refuse that trade. I wont do it.

    I will understand if you back out and will not fault you for it, I said, choosing my words carefully. However, if you do I promise to grant you a pardon. I will sell you back your soul, and you will walk away a free man.

    He would deserve as much. The man was guilty of grave-robbing and sacrilege, not murder or violent crimes. Selling away ones soul and back should already count as death.

    This time, the prisoner did not tly refuse my offer and calmed down. I patiently waited for him to consider my proposal. I did not want to force his hand, not on something so important.

    Ill need gold, he haggled. Enough to start over somewhere else. Somewhere far away from <em>you</em>.

    Granted. I was willing to make a few concessions considering the risk involved.

    Write it down. I want a contract. No backing down. The prisoners hands trembled in anxiety. Write it down.

    I did as he wished. I wrote down a contract informing him I would offer him aplete pardon and a bag of a hundred goldmore than enough to buy a new home outside of Archfrostif hepleted the trade, no matter the results. I also promised to give him back his soul if the exchange seeded.

    It is done. I held my breath and asked the fateful question. Will you sell me your soul and this coin as a package deal?

    The prisoner hesitated a full minute, sweat falling off his forehead. He gathered his courage and words escaped his shaking mouth. I swea

    My Merchants mark burned like the sun.

    A swirling torrent of golden light swallowed me whole. Intense pain surged from my hand and spread to my body, followed by the terrible coldness of metal on my skin, the sterilefort of a sea of coins drowning me under its tide of wealth. A vision of endless treasures and golden cities drowned my conscious mind in riches. A tide of molten gold covered the cells walls and transformed it into a vast throne room crumbling under the weight of a million jewels, coins, and gemstones. A thousand soldiers knelt before my throne in silent worship, waiting for mymand.

    Humans are divided into two categories, I said with a melodious womans voice. <em>Valuable</em> people and <em>worthless </em>people. Valuable people bring value to society. Through their toil and ingenuity, they enrich their lives and those of others. They create, they build, they give. Worthless people, meanwhile, do nothing but take. They beg andin and steal what belongs to better men. They add nothing to civilization and slow down the march of progress.

    Oh, I loved to say out loud what I had always thought in my heart. Too long had I stayed silent, wasting my wealth and talent on pointless causes. My resolve would no longer waver; for I knew I deserved more.

    Paradise will be built by valuable men, but much like iron they can be refined into steel, even the most worthless of humans can be made valuable. I waved my hand at my bounty. See for yourself how I turned lead to gold!

    My hoard glittered around me. Screaming statues of men melted into precious, <em>precious </em>metal silently sang my praise. Coins filled with souls imbued my golems with an obedient will. Demons forged from wicked fools worshiped at my feet.

    So go forth, my angels! I encouraged my army. Purify this world! Let us seize this shit-stained world the Goddess left behind and pave it with gold!

    For such was my destiny.

    Robin.

    A womans voice snapped me back to reality. I had stumbled onto the cold hard floor, while the prisoner had crawled into a corner, eyes wide with fear. The golden coin hadnt left his hand.

    Robin, the voice repeated, white smoke entering the room.

    I froze and peeked over my shoulder. Eris had teleported right behind me, with a grim face and no hint of her usual yfulness in her eyes.

    I like you, so I will warn you only once. Eris met my gaze, her hand tightening on her staff. She carried a heavy book under her other arm. If you try that again, you will die.

    My fists tightened. You will try to kill me?

    I wont need to. Eris pointed at my mark. Do you think heroes marks tolerate unheroic behavior? The sses possess built-in failsafes that return them to the Fatebinder if theymit heinous crimes.

    My jaw clenched when I figured out the implications. A hero only loses their mark when they die.

    Yes. Eris held my gaze. If you attempted this trade out of greed or cruelty, the mark would have killed you on the spot.

    Why didnt you inform me? I rasped, anger surging in my heart. My mark burned on my skin. If you knew about that failsafe, why didnt you warn me?

    I didnt know what would trigger it, Eris insisted. Most Merchantsplete their tenures without even realizing there is one, because they arent mad enough to try buying <em>souls</em>.

    I wouldnt have tried if you had been halfway honest, I used her. I was too furious to think straight. You knew Mersie was the Assassin, even joked about it, yet you said nothing!

    I keep <em>everybodys </em>secrets. Now Eris was well and truly scowling. I didnt tell your former girlfriend that you were the Merchant either. That is why people trust me: because I keep my mouth shut.

    I nced at my shining mark. My hand still felt pain. Perhaps too much.

    Eris let out a heavy sigh. Robin, I will sell you my ability to lie for one of your silver coins.

    I held her gaze, then nodded sharply. Deal.

    A silver coin teleported into Eris hand, and I felt something flow into that invisible bank of years and personal qualities that fueled my power. Since I could already lie by myself, my power simply stockpiled that extra quality.

    I swear in the Goddess'' name that I am on your side, Robin, and that of our fellow heroes, Eris dered with the most sincere, serious tone I had ever heard her use. I didnt mean to keep the failsafes existence from you. I simply thought it was irrelevant, because I believe you are a noble person who would never intentionallymit a crime worthy of execution.

    She set her staff aside against a wall and offered me her hand.

    I truly wish you well, Eris said with a wink. I daresay I even have a small crush on you, and I came here because you promised to treat me to dinner.

    I knew she was mostly joking to lighten up the mood and break the tension. Still, it worked. I couldnt hold back a fit of nervousughter. You didnt have to say that part, I pointed out. Youve sold away your ability to lie, not to remain silent.

    Then forget what I said. Eris chuckled. So, are you going to take my hand? My wrist is getting cold.

    After a moments hesitation, I took her hand into my own. Eris gently helped me back to my feet, ignoring the prisoner staring at us in terror. He must have seen the same vision I did.

    I will purchase your memory of what happened here, then grant you your gold and pardon, I informed him. Youve earned it.

    The man simply stared at me with empty eyes. Somehow, I doubted he would ever return to crime again.

    Though I believed in Eris goodwill, the implications behind that trade worried me greatly. The failsafe did not activate when I drained another person of their strength and thus to death. Neither did it activate when I concluded questionable, failed bargains. Which could only mean one thing.

    The failsafe triggered because the trade would have <em>worked</em>, I concluded. Eris, those Devils Coins you collect

    Eris didnt let me finish. For your sake, Robin, do not dig too deeply into this.

    Im tired of lies. I squinted at her, refusing to back down. Are the Demon Ancestors former heroes?

    Eris chewed her lower lip without saying anything. Since I still retained her ability to lie, she was forced to speak only the truth. She could have answered with I dont know, Im not sure, or a t no and I would have epted them all.

    Instead, she chose to remain silent.

    If such potent failsafes are required, then it means someone vited the sses rules at one point with terrible consequences. I pointed out as we walked out of the cell and into the dungeons. You said it yourself, all demonse from human stock. The Demon Ancestors are called that because they were the first of their kind.

    Eris sighed and grabbed her staff. I cannot answer your questions no matter how much I wish I could, she said. Lady Alexios forbade me from directly revealing sensitive information to the heroes. She believes nothing good wille out of it.

    As I suspected. Do you share her opinion?

    Sometimes, but not always. Eris presented me with the book she carried. This should help you.

    I frowned upon examining the grimoire. The darkened oak cover showcased a copy of my mark, alongside a title written in traditional Erebian: Tales of the Merchants. I flipped through weighty vellum pages tinged by the passage of time, drawings of cities of gold and distantnds, and walls of texts outlined with gold. This book had to be centuries old.

    What is this? I asked. My magic sight detected a bounty of essence radiating from the pages. A magical book?

    There are two kinds of archives, my dear Robin. The public one full of censorship to protect the little children, and the forbidden one with all of the erotic and mature stuff. Eris flipped to a page showcasing a past Merchant in a rather <em>suggestive </em>position with a princess. I will let you guess which one this bookes from.

    I appreciated this resource, though I wondered how it would help me figure out the truth until I flipped back to that golden city drawing. The vision I received showed a figure sitting in a pce paved with treasures. Could there be a link between them?

    Im forbidden from telling you anything directly, Eris exined with a smile. If you were to figure out the truth by yourself though, why would Lady Alexiosin?

    Does this book include clues? I asked. Since it was written in old Erebian, it would take me a while to trante it.

    Yes, and I believe youre smart enough to figure it out on your own. Eris chuckled. Oops, I didnt mean to say that. Can you sell me back my lying skills?

    I am still tempted to refuse and force the truth out of you, I said after putting the book under my arm.

    As I am tempted to simply teleport away. Eris lips strained. As a friend, Robin, I ask you to please respect my position. It is difficult enough as it is. I did my best to help you and I ask that you return the courtesy.

    I wanted to insist further. To exploit the situation and receive more answers. Even if she refused to answer, Eris silence would be confirmation enough. But she had a point. She could simply teleport away and stop helping me at all if she wished. I had no idea what kind of pressure the Fatebinder and Arcane Abbey might exert on her, yet she was sincerely trying to help me

    Fine, I replied. I hadnt pushed Colmar and Soraseo to reveal their true identities to me, I could hardly ask the same of Eris. Ill sell it back for the silver.

    Not trying to shortchange me this time? Eris put a hand on her waist. I am disappointed.

    Friendship was made of little concessions.

 Chapter Fourteen: The Scales of Justice

    Chapter Fourteen: The Scales of Justice

    The Knight and the Inquisitor arrived at Snowdrift in short session.

    It was quite the procession that emerged from the woods around the city. Hundreds of riders trampled grass under their hooves, whipping up a dust storm hiding flying pegasus knights circling above them. The spring wind blew a dozen unfurling banners representing the greatest noble houses of Archfrost: a white hare, a zing lion, a winged stusk I could hardly recognize half of them.

    Though none of the banners majestypared to thergest ones splendor: an icy crown with seven pointed horns, each representing one of the seven great sses and the associated heroes. The symbol of Archfrosts royal house.

    I watched their procession from atop a mare gifted to me by ireI had taken to calling her Mudkeep due to her brown coloration. ire herself rode Silverine at my left, while Soraseo rode her ck warhorse and Therese a white steed. Eris was also present, albeit on foother habit of teleporting around spooked the horsesand I had noticed Mersie observing the scene from the citys walls. My former lover kept to the shadows, watching from afar without making her presence known.

    <em>So many heroes gathered at the citys gates</em>, I thought, looking over my shoulder. Though we had bought dozens of soldiers with us and secured the area, I half-expected the Knots to attack us now. <em>Or perhaps will they try to split us up first?</em>

    Whatever the case, the three-hundred strong procession approached us without trouble. Whereas the Rivend Federations nobles and merchant princes liked their fine clothes and satin, the lords of Archfrost arrived clothed in steel and iron. Our nations knights favored white and blue colors, alongside heavy armor. Many of them carriedrge pavise shields, mighty maces, long spears, and sharp longswords. In short, the princes retinue came ready to wage war.

    And why wouldnt they? The mes of war forged Archfrost. The country had been threatened by beastmen invasion from the north since its foundation, not to mention internal troubles like the recent rebellion in Walbourg. Its nobles learned to wield a sword the moment they could walk. The country might have suffered from an economic crisis, but the armys coffers were never empty.

    Would their discipline and weaponry be enough to destroy demons? I hoped so. I had the feeling the likes of Fenrivos were but a taste of what kind of monsters we could expect to fight in the near future. Not to mention the kind that hides in in sight among men.

    <em>We know so little about how demons function</em>, I thought. <em>If the Devil of Greed was a previous Merchant, as I now strongly suspect, how could she still buy souls and transform people into more demons? The ss has been passed on to me.</em>

    You still owe me a dinner invitation, Robin, Eris reminded me lightly as the princes retinue came closer to us in a thundering stampede. What kind of Merchant takes adys merchandise without paying her for it?

    The kind who wants to pay in full with interest, I replied lightly. In truth, I spent all of yesterdays afternoon studying the book Eris gave me in an attempt to trante it. I had learned the basics of traditional Erebian, but tranting a centuries-old grimoire written in thenguage proved a little harder than I expected. Do you prefer your meal spicy or sweet?

    How about both? Eris teased me with a wink. Surprise me.

    ire sent me a sideway nce, her jaw tightening. I assume she reproached our flirting with the prince so near. As for Therese, she appeared a little disappointed in me. I wondered why.

    <em>Let us see if our Knight lives up to the tales</em>, I thought as the Archfrostian leader strode forward to meet us. The crown prince rode atop a mighty white steed whose color meshed well with his scintiting silverden steel armor. A blue cloak of ermine fluttered from his shoulders, and the sheath of his sword carried the emblem of the House of Archfrost.

    Two men rode beside him, both of them unarmored. The first was a terribly young man with short jet-ck hair, darker eyes, soft features, and pale white skin. He carried a bow around his chest, alongside a short sword on his belt and a shield on his back. The princes squire, most likely. He followed His Majesty like his shadow, his trembling hand ready to draw his sword at the first sign of danger.

    The other appeared to be in histe thirties, with a slender build, sharp features, and a small pointed beard on his chin. His neatlybed dark hair was streaked with white. His eyes, as gray as ires, radiated wariness when they appraised our group. The man alone carried no weapon, and his unassuming brown mantle contrasted nearly with the splendid armor of his master. I noticed a passive resemnce with the squire. Perhaps they were uncle and nephew, or father and son?

    The man is Mathias Leclerc, Archfrosts First Minister of State, Therese helpfully whispered into my ear upon noticing my confusion. He has been in the position for five years now.

    On which factions payroll is he on? I questioned her.

    Therese chuckled. Both, I assume. Otherwise, he wouldnt have kept his post for so long.

    Ah, then he was either a crafty opportunist or an ambitionless bureaucrat. I hoped for thetter. We had enough potential traitors in our midst as it was.

    ire cleared her throat once the prince neared within hearing distance. Greetings, Your Majesty, she dered politely, inclining her head respectfully. I quickly imitated her, as did all of us. I bid thee wee in Snowdrift.

    It is too early to call me Your Majesty, Lady ire. Archfrosts crown prince removed his helmet. He was incredibly handsome for a young man short of eighteen, with short, lustrous hair the color of gold and azure eyes that any maiden would have fallen for. His skin was fair as snow and unblemished by the ills of the world. I have yet to be crowned king.

    <em>My Goddess, hes even prettier than Mersie</em>, I thought. Much to everyones displeasure, I quipped, causing Therese, Eris, and the prince himself to smile. ire herself remained stone-faced, her hands tightening on her steeds reins.

    You make me blush, Sir, Prince Rnd replied with a warm smile. From your fiery hair, I assume you must be the new Merchant Ive heard so much about. Robin Waybright, is it?

    I always knew being a ginger would make me famous worldwide. I hope youve heard only good things, Your Highness.

    Please, call me Rnd. We are fellow heroes and equal in the Goddess eyes. And he was humble too! And to answer your worries, Robin, Mathias would not stopuding you at the royal council. The prince waved a hand at his minister, who politely nodded at us. Your reforms fascinate him.

    They do. The minister advanced slightly closer and studied my face. Your ns to increase agricultural productivity especially intrigue me. Food production has always been the weak heel of our nation, but we have mostly focused on introducing new grains or negotiating better importation treaties. If your method does yield fruit

    Vegetables, you mean? the prince joked. Ive heard you speaking of turnips and clovers, not apples.

    You are well-informed, Prince Rnd, I noted. It made me cautiously optimistic. Few nobles would have bothered to learn about agriculture, no matter how sensible, let alone a prince. Besides, Rnd appeared to have a sense of humor. A rare thing among prickly nobles.

    As the future king of Archfrost, it is my duty to learn any information that could improve my subjects lives. He put a hand on his chest. I hope that we can coborate together to build a new and better kingdom. Archfrost needs new blood such as yours to move forward.

    I had grown so used to empty titudes in Ermeline that Prince Rnds earnest tone took me aback. His words carried the weight of his raw passion and dedication. I could tell he was the rarest breed of politician: the kind that believed in his own message.

    I hope so, Prince Rnd, I replied with some enthusiasm. <em>My, this association promises to be interesting</em>

    I look forward to us working together then, Robin. Prince Rnd approached Therese next. It has been a long while, mydy.

    Five years, Prince Rnd, Therese replied courteously before offering her fianc her hand, which he kissed. I caught the princes squire scowling at the scene, albeit briefly. Was he wary of the imperial princess for her foreign origins? I hope your dancing has improved sincest we met. We are to hold a ball tonight.

    Im afraid I still have room for improvement, Rnd replied with embarrassment. Is a ball appropriate though? I was told the counts funeral would take ce at noon.

    ire let out a sigh, her bearing almost regal. She reminded me of a warrior putting on their armor; one of courtesy rather than steel. My grandfathers death is cause for sorrow, but youring is cause for rejoice, Your Highness, she said diplomatically. Your Uncle Sigismund will arrive soon, alongside the finest lords of the north. Surely we should wee them properly.

    A wise choice, Minister Leclerc said with a strained smile. It is good to gather friends in these troubled times.

    I could read between the lines. <em>There is another civil war brewing, and it is time to tally who will be on each side.</em>

    Though ire initially wanted to avoid holding a celebration after her grandfathers funeral, Therese convinced her to go through with it for two reasons. The first being that it would help secure her ce as the new countess of Snowdrift by building up political capital. Second, it would help Prince Rnd build up a coalition to take down the regent in case thetter refused to relinquish power. Considering Therese would be Queen of Archfrost once her fianc assumed the throne, it would neatly unite the country under someone who had its best interests at heart.

    As for me, I supported the event because it meant flushing out our enemies. The Knots would never be able to resist an opportunity to strike such an event. Sess meant wiping out nearly a third of the worlds heroes and destabilizing Archfrost a great deal more. It, in turn, would give us an opportunity to wipe them out from Snowdrift once and for all.

    Lady ire, allow me to offer you my condolences, Rnd said with a grim tone. Though Count Brynslow was no friend of mine, he was a wise lord who duly fostered my future queen. I give you my word, you shall have justice for his murder.

    I did not believe in noble promises, since words were like wind, but something in the princes dark tone and eyes unsettled me. The way his blue gaze harshened when he spoke of justice, and the very subtle sideway nce his squire and minister exchanged I had a gut feeling something was wrong.

    Your Highness is kind, ire replied courteously, not giving anything away. But there will be time to discuss avenging my grandfather once we have cremated him.

    Of course. Rnd turned his gaze on Eris and Soraseo. It is good to see you again as well, Lady Eris. Might I ask who rides at your side?

    My, who else but your vassal, my pretty prince? Eris replied with a smirk. The loyal one.

    Yes, I have heard about the Cavaliers poor choice of employer. Once again, I caught a glimpse of that cold stare in the princes eyes. I do not know what madness seized her or what leverage Griselda has over them. The heroes should not fight on opposing sides.

    Give me time to work my charm, oh Knight, Eris reassured him. I will do my best to bring her back into the fold.

    Good. <em>For the Cavaliers sake</em>, the princes tone implied.

    <em>He hides darkness in his heart</em>, I realized. Made sense. Nobody was <em>that </em>perfect. <em>Still, I wonder how much dirt a Knight in shining armor can hide</em>

    Soraseo introduced herself with a respectful nod. I have a great honor meeting you, Lord Knight. I am Soraseo, the Monk.

    And from the way you carry yourself, a true warrior too. Prince Rnd removed his left hands gauntlet, revealing a familiar symbol: a golden bastard sword topped by the Erebian symbol for eleven. Perhaps you would indulge me in a short joust, Lady Soraseo?

    What, right now? I asked, bbergasted.

    Our prince does have an appetite for battle, Minister Leclerc mused.

    Prince Rnd exploded intoughter. King Koshro, the first person to unify Archfrost, dueled a citysmander each time he visited one, to ensure both of their skills remained sharp. Besides, my squire, Sebastien, spent so long dressing me up in my armor. I would hate for his efforts to go to waste.

    I would rather that His Grace not endanger himself, the squireined with a grunt. He keeps breaking his swords.

    You exaggerate, Prince Rnd chided them. Besides, I havent faced a real challenge since I earned my ss. I am eager to see how I perform against a fellow hero.

    I will have great pleasure in epting your challenge, Soraseo replied eagerly. Were all warrior-aligned sses so desperate for the thrill ofbat? Sword or spear?

    Both work for me, Rnd replied with enthusiasm. Shall we go with des? I am curious to see how your curved sword performs against mine.

    Therese winced at her fiancs words. Shouldnt we try to stop them? she whispered to me and ire. This will dy our n for the day.

    Dont bother, Eris replied, having overheard us. Its a warrior thing.

    From the way no one in the princes retinue tried to argue against the spar, I guessed Rnd usually challenged strangers. And most importantly, they believed he was in no danger at all.

    Let them fight, ire said, her eyes squinting at Rnd. I am curious what he can do.

    So was I. In the end, our troupe backed down and formed a circle around the two duelists. Rnd and Soraseo remained mounted, each with a hand on their swords hilts. As befitting a match between heroes, everyone started to ce bets.

    Are you up for a small wager, Lord Robin? Mathias Leclerc asked. I will bet a gold coin on our prince.

    Ill bet on Soraseo, I replied. Besides the fact she was a friend, I had seen her manhandle a demon with casual ease. I have faith in her skills.

    I could hardly be expected to bet against my future husband, so I will wager a coin on Rnd, Therese said with a chuckle. What about you, ire?

    ire observed both fighters before settling on her choice. Soraseo will win.

    My, such tall odds, Eris mused. I will bet on the Knight.

    By the tallys end, two-thirds of ires guards and the princes retinue had bet on Rnd. It suited me fine. I always liked to support an underdog.

    The fighters were in no hurry to determine which of them would win. They held each others gaze without lifting a finger, appraising each other. They would have looked like statues carved from stone and steel to an outsider. I could scarcely hear either of them breathe.

    <em>Soon</em> I thought, my eyes lingering on Soraseos fingers tightening on her swords hilt. Her swords reach was greater than her opponent, so she held the advantage for the first strike. <em>One, two</em>

    Soraseo unsheathed her sword so fast the de turned invisible.

    Her de made no noise as it cut through the air. Neither did Rnds when he parried the blow. Their steel only became visible as they shed in a thundering sh of wind and lightning. The duelists trained horses let out screeches of surprise, but remained steady as their riders exchanged a flurry of blows.

    I had seen Soraseo demolish a giant demon with barely any effort. To my surprise, Prince Rnd proved to be equally fast. Two opposed elemental essences surged from each weapon when they crossed paths: lightning for the princes, and wind for Soraseos.

    Such a splendid dance of swords was akin to an opera. No one could look away from it. ire, Therese, <em>all </em>were mesmerized by the divine spectacle unfolding before us.

    The Knight ss grants its user mastery over all weapons and forms ofbat, Eris exined to me. A pebble bes as deadly as a longbow in a Knights hands.

    Watching the princes fight underlined to me the difference between <em>skill </em>and <em>mastery</em>. <em>He can manipte his weapons essence</em>, I noted while observing the bout. The de moved as if it were an extension of Rnds arm, its steel hardening right before a sh, its weight shifting around where it would make for the most devastating blow. Moreover, the sword moved so swiftly that it often vanished from sight. My eyes couldnt keep up with Rnds speed and dexterity in spite of all the skills I gathered as the Merchant.

    Even then, both duelists clearly held back. Soraseo focused her strikes on the princes sword rather than his body to avoid hurting him in spite of her greater reach. As for Prince Rnd, I noticed him loosen his grip when their weapons shed. This bout was little more than a warm-up, a prelude to the true performance.

    Theyre evenly matched so far, I pointed out.

    Eris smiled ear to ear. You forget one key detail, Robin.

    As if on cue, Prince Rnd suddenly tightened his grip and parried one of Soraseos strikes with his true strength.

    The human body <em>is </em>a weapon.

    I felt the shockwave from ten meters away.

    To my astonishment, Soraseo <em>and </em>her horse went flying back into the air. The Monk was thrown off her mount, her mark shining as she managed to adjust her fall just enough tond on her feet. Her mount crashed less gracefully, hisnding throwing mud in all directions.

    I heard Therese gasp audibly at my side, while ire remained utterly speechless. Only the princes retinue didnt appear surprised in the slightest.

    Soraseo rushed to her horses side while shouting a word in her native Shinkokan which I could not understandher mounts name no doubt. She immediately tended to her stallion, who thankfully appeared to be more frightened than hurt. Prince Rnd gantly did not press his advantage.

    What what happened? I whispered in astonishment.

    I have seen our prince throw a cart around as if it were a toy and swing a tree as if it were a quarterstaff, Mathias Leclerc calmly boasted on his masters behalf. Prince Rnd also crushed a bears skull with one hand during a hunt. His grip is so strong that most weapons break in his hand.

    I had heard tales of unassuming men shattering wooden barricades or outracing a horse when pushed to their limits. My mark had granted me enough speed to outpace the wind when threatened. That was what the human body could do when strengthened with will and essence.

    That was why the Knight was said to possess the strength of ten men. His ss enhanced his body into the perfect weapon.

    After calming down her mount and helping it stand back up, Soraseo checked her sword. I detected a slight crack where the de had shed with Rnds.

    You are good, Lord Knight, Soraseo congratted Rnd with a smile. That brief sh of steel fulfilled her more than her duel to the death with Fenrivos.

    I return thepliment, Lady Soraseo. The prince stepped down from his horse. Shall we continue on foot?

    Soraseo raised her sword without hesitation. The spar had only just begun.

    <em>Even if I were to collect the skills of a hundred warriors, I wouldnt equal a tenth of these twos strength, </em>I realized. <em>Thats the difference between a support ss like mine and a battle-oriented one.</em>

    Yet for all this dazzling disy of martial might, my eyes kept lingering on the princes mark. It was my first time meeting another member of the seven great sses, yet that sword on his hand felt familiar.

    <em>Same ce as Belgoroths, and very simr looking, but the Demon Ancestors symbolcked any numeral,</em> I thought. <em>Do their marks exist outside the main twenty-two?</em>

    A messengers arrival drew me out of my thoughts. The man arrived on horseback through the city gates, his breath heavy. I bear a message from Lady Freygrad, said the man. The Abbeys inquisitors have arrived by boat.

    Another hero had knocked on our door.

    Can you wee that group, Robin? ire asked me coolly as Rnd and Soraseo circled each other on foot. This duel might take a while, and we must still show His Highness retinue their amodations for the week.

    But who will collect my winnings? I quipped.

    ire finally cracked a smile. I shall.

    Ille with you, Robin, Eris said. Youll need to lighten up after meeting with Cortaner.

    I scoffed. Is he <em>really </em>that bad?

    I will let you see it for yourself.

    How ominous. Still, I invited Eris to ride at my back, said goodbye to my other allies for the moment, and rode towards the docks with haste. It didnt take me long to see the shadow of the inquisitors cog, whose sail proudly disyed the symbol of the four artifacts. A squad of soldiers in purple te armor oversaw workers unloading their ships cargo under Lady Freygrads supervision.

    As I expected, Marika and Colmar had beaten us to the docks. I found the former talking with an armored blonde woman with scars on her cheeks; the two seemed to get along well enough that Marikaughed at something herpanion said. As for Colmar, he was discussing afar from the others atop the ships deck with an inquisitor who kept their face hidden behind their helmet. Though I couldnt see any hint of his visage, I felt the same sense of familiarity that followed all heroes.

    Cortaner, Eris confirmed, though I could have guessed that on my own. This man breathed the part more than hisrades at least. His armor alone bore spikes, and he towered over the already tall Colmar. He does not seem to appreciate our dear Alchemist.

    Clearly not. The inquisitors arms were crossed, his hands gripping his armors steel tightly. As for Colmar, his very bodynguage <em>screamed </em>unease. Whatever they were discussing didnt seem pleasant.

    Is that Penitence Armor? I asked Eris while pointing a finger at Cortaner.

    I told you he had a spear wall up his ass.

    That was one way to put it. I had heard of the Penitent Ones, though I had never seen one yet. They were a small order within the Arcane Abbey made from former criminals who sought purification for their sins. They underwent a terrifying process called the <em>Reforging of the Flesh, </em>a mimicry of the Goddess promise to reforge the world after purging it of its impurities. Witchcrafters mingled a Penitent Ones skins essence with that of their armor, drove spikes into their bones to prevent fractures, and altered their very flesh.

    Few survived this irreversible process, and fewer retained their sanity afterward. Those who did became the Abbeys elite soldiers. Warriors utterly dedicated to enforcing the Goddess will, unable to sleep or take off most of their armor, who had nothing in their life but their duty.

    In short, our generations Inquisitor was a fanatics fanatic. <em>Wonderful</em>, if strangely appropriate.

    Oh, Robin! Marika waved a hand at me upon seeing us arrive. Let me introduce you to Inquisitor Gunndra.

    You know each other? I wondered out loud as Eris and I climbed down from our horse. Seems like you do.

    Lady Marika and I met in the Rivend Federation, albeit under difficult circumstances, the blonde inquisitor, Gunndra, confirmed before shaking my hand. It is an honor to meet you, Lord Merchant. I look forward to working with you.

    Same. Though I wasnt sure I could say the same for Cortaner yet. How many reinforcements did you bring with you?

    A full peacekeeping forces worth. Six soldiers, including myself, three exorcist witchcrafters, and Commander Cortaner himself.

    Ten? I didnt hide my disappointment. I had hoped for more reinforcements from the Fatebinder. Thats not much.

    Oh, believe me. Gunndra nced at Cortaner, who walked to the docks with Colmar in tow. Hes worth a hundred of us.

    The tension in the air was palpable as the Alchemist and Inquisitor joined us. Colmars hands clenched and unclenched on their own, his back as tense as a bowstring. I had never seen him so frightened.

    I am conflicted, Cortaner admitted to Colmar, his voice colder than an Archfrostian winter. The Abbeys teachings demand that I destroy you on the spot.

    Colmar did not say a word, while mypanions exchanged silent, shocked nces. My hand moved closer to my daggers hilt on its own, ready to defend my friend if need be

    However, Cortaner added, Your soul is pure, and the Alchemists mark chose you in spite of your sinful state. It is not my ce to question the artifacts ns for you. I shall not interfere.

    I appreciate your mercy, Ser Cortaner. I could almost <em>taste </em>the relief in Colmars voice. He was clearly pleased to avoid a fight. If it pleases, I would like our discussion to remain private.

    Your confession will stay between the Goddess and us. Cortaner turned to face Marika. I could only see darkness through his visors slits. Do you remember what I told you when west met?

    Marikas smile faded away, swiftly reced by a deep scowl. I know the price of letting a demon live, yes.

    Good, Cortaner replied withconism. That is why you were chosen.

    Since Marika appeared clearly ufortable with the discussion, I decided to intrude. Inquisitor Cortaner, a pleasure to meet you

    I have legal documents for you to sign, Lord Robin, the man cut in, his tone sharper than his armors spikes. I request the right of pursuing an inquisition within this city.

    <em>This man has neither patience nor humor</em>, I realized. Eris, that silly hyena, cackled behind me. The more I hung out with her, the more I was convinced she only found delight in embarrassing others.

    Granted, within limits, I answered calmly. If this man couldnt stand social niceties, I would get straight to the point. You will be allowed to interrogate and detain suspects of demonic activities, but no torture, no arrests without evidence, and no extrajudicial execution unless its a confirmed demon or cultist coborator.

    Its not extrajudicial if ire were to give permission, Eris suggested mirthfully.

    Youre not helping, Iined.

    I know.

    Cortaner crossed his arms in displeasure. Half-measures will only slow down the demonic purge.

    But this will reassure the popce, Gunndra pointed out. The Blight is strong enough as it is. Us acting with a heavy hand would strengthen the believers fears and thus the Berserk me.

    True, Cortaner conceded, much to my surprise. He did not argue further. Very well. We shall do as you ask.

    My Goddess, did he actually listen to criticism? Perhaps that man was less rigid than he looked. First of all, what can your power do in detail? I asked him. The more we understand it, the better we can figure out synergies with our own abilities.

    Cortaner looked down on me until I could finally see his baleful ck eyes. His deep, terrible voice echoed both in the air and in my mind. Confess your sins to me.

    My mouth opened on its own. When I was eight, I stole marbles from a shop, I confessed my first step on a life of sin. When the merchant noticed, I lied and I used a magpie.

    Eris gasped in mock shock. Robin, you monster!

    <em>Whats happening?</em> Before I could recover myposure, my mouth, tongue, and jaw moved on their own without any input from my mind. It was as if a foreign ghost had entered my flesh and seized control.<em> I cant I cant stop!</em>

    When I was at the orphanage, we used an old <em>Board & Conquest</em> board, but the instruction manual was written in Iremian because Sforza was a cheap son of a whore, no offense to whores, whose beds I often visit, I continued, unable to hold back. I tried to close my mouth, to tighten my jaw, to seal my lips, but the truth poured out from my heart nheless. Since none of the children understood Iremian, I pretended that I could read it so I could invent rules whenever I was pushed into a corner. Then I learned to load dice so I could establish dominance at game contests. At eleven, when a bully tried to steal my lunch, I forced his head into a chamber pot

    I recounted all of my crimes in chronological order in perfect detail; from my childhood pranks all the way to the dirty work I did under Sforzas guidance. When I tried to physically keep my jaw shut with my hand, my mouth struggled back harder so my tongue could tell everyone present how I had skimmed money from Sforzas criminal empire to buy myself a feathered hat, because I thought it would impress Mersie. It did not. <em>It did not</em>.

    Meanwhile, Marika clearly struggled to hold back a fit ofughter. Eris, that traitor, mocked me with a smile. Colmar gave me a gaze full ofpassion, which only made me feel worse.

    <em>Stop this</em>, I pleaded at Cortaner with my gaze, for my mouth said, I lived a life full of lust, bedding virgins, whores,moners, and noblewomen without care, because I am thirsty.

    Cortaner listened to my words and remained blind to my suffering. His ck eyes stared at me with the weight of all the authority figures in my life. Only when we reached the moment when I earned my mark did I finally feel his power release its hold on me.

    Your heartcks discipline, Cortaner judged me. You should control your vices, not the other way around. I rmend self-getion.

    From what I gathered, he was the one holding the whip when it mattered, Eris mocked me. Sheughed twice harder when I red back at her. You understand how it feels now.

    I guessed this was karma for forcing her to tell me the truth yesterday, but damn it. Poor gentle Marika couldnt look at me without putting her hands on her mouth to swallow a fit ofughter.

    The Inquisitors sspels others to answer my questions truthfully. Cortaner raised his helmets visor just enough to unveil his scar-ridden lower mouth. He childishly stuck out his tongue at us, which bore a silver symbol on its surface: a pair of scales bearing the Erebian numeral for twenty. It lets me detect lies even when I do not say anything. No cultist will be safe from my judgment.

    Did you truly need to ask him such a question? Gunndra questioned her coworker. He is the Merchant. The mark wouldnt have chosen him if his virtues did not outweigh his sins.

    Cortaner put his visor down without apologizing. No one should be above suspicion, not even heroes.

    Then what are your sins, Inquisitor? I rasped back, pointing at his armor. I knew it was childish, but his judgmental attitude rubbed me the wrong way. For you to wear that armor, they must have been heavy indeed.

    His pitiless ck eyes met mine. Have you ever heard of the Kaliyara?

    No, I have not, I replied. I noticed Gunndra visibly flinching.

    They were a tribe from the Fire Inds raiding Iremian colonists ten years ago, Cortaner exined with eerie calmness. Irem offered a silver coin per Kaliyaran scalp. I was a mercenary back then, ruled by a different kind of lust than yours.

    Erisughter died out.

    With other men of ill repute, I went into the jungle to hunt, Cortaner continued without skipping a beat. We happened upon a vige of fifty-three natives. They were not Kaliyaran, but we knew Iremian authorities wouldnt tell the difference. Brown is brown.

    Marikas face lost all color, as did mine. I knew what wasing next.

    So we killed them all. Men, women, children. All of them. We gathered the corpses in a pile and set them on fire,ughing. We did this all for fifty-three silver.

    Most frightening was the mans unwavering voice. I did not hear a single sob nor a hint of hesitation. If he felt any emotionand he must have to put on his Penitence Armorhe had buried his shame very deep inside his shell of steel.

    That was the <em>least </em>of my crimes, Lord Robin, Cortaner concluded. I have done the demons work on earth, for which I pay for now by suffering in the Goddess name.

    <em>Oh my, he is serious</em>, I thought, my blood frozen in my veins. I I see.

    I pray to the Goddess that you do not, Cortaner replied before changing the subject. As for how we will proceed, our exorcists will help strengthen the seals on the Blight. Once we have secured the site, we will conduct an investigation into the Knot and root them out. If you have a list of suspects, we will begin with them.

    I have one, I confirmed warily. Mersie provided one to me, based on what she had learned in Ermeline and her own private investigation.

    Good. Then we shall not waste time. Cortaner walked away with a steady step, with Gunndra following right afterward. I shall send for you as soon as we find a lead.

    Our group watched the two leave with the rest of their squad in the Blights direction. None of us tried to stop them, if only to further discuss strategy.

    I warned you he was something special, Eris whispered, her eyelids lowering slightly.

    Thats one way to put it, Marika whispered. The Inquisitors words had shaken her to her core. What he has said could a ss truly choose someone like that?

    He is a tormented soul, Colmar replied. To my surprise, his tone sounded sympathetic towards the Inquisitor. It is not our ce to judge him.

    Marika scowled at him. Colmar, he threatened you.

    Few inquisitors would have let me walk away after what I told him. Colmar shook his head. What he has done before receiving the mark is of no concern to us. We face the same enemy today.

    I suppose we do, I whispered to myself, though I was only half-convinced. I wasnt certain Cortaners inner nature had changed much. In fact, I worried he had simply redirected his brutality towards cults and demons rather than innocents. He was a sword without a hilt. He might harm us as much as the enemy.

    Still, we would need his help. The bait hade. The hunters were here. The trap was set.

    Now, we just had to wait for the enemy to trigger it.

 Chapter Fifteen: The Hellfire Ball

    Chapter Fifteen: The Hellfire Ball

    I disliked funerals.

    I had seen far too many in my childhood when the Purple gue swept away my friends and family. I remembered very well how they started out as solemn and borate affairs in the early days, to quick and clinical mass cremations once the disease hit its stride.

    The counts funerals belonged to the former category. ires guards carried the mans remains in a litter while the new countess herself rode at their side, alongside Prince Rnd and a few other nobles. Duke Sigismund, thete mans liege and Rnds uncle, had arrived just in time to join the procession. The remains were paraded across the citys northern half where scores ofmoners gathered to watch in silence. There were more onlookers than I expected; the count hadnt been hated, but he was never popr either.

    They did note for the count, Therese said as she rode at my side. They came for the heroes.

    She was right. Most onlookers present focused their gazes on Prince Rnd, Soraseo, and me rather than the counts litter and his heir. I wondered where the Knot assassins would hide among the crowd. We had soldiers posted along the processions path to intercept any potential crossbowman or sniper, not to mention Cortaners inquisitors. Eris also teleported along the roofs to survey the area.

    <em>I dont see Mersie either</em>, I noticed. The Assassin had retreated into the shadows, though I had the feeling I would see her at tonights ball. <em>She is used to infiltrating the nobility.</em>

    So who won? I asked Therese as we approached the ck Keep. A pyre had already been set atop the castles fortifications, ready to be set alight on a moments notice. Neither Soraseo nor Rnd appear to be wounded.

    The duel ended in a draw, she replied, much to my surprise. My fianc held the advantage at first, but Lady Soraseo grew better at avoiding his strikes as the duel went on. I presume her power allowed her to predict his blows the longer they fought. Then one of my fiancs missed strikes blew a hole in the city walls, and ire put an end to the duel rather than increase the repair bill.

    The city walls? I stared at Therese in disbelief. Theyre fifteen inches thick.

    Not thick enough for the Knight. His sword cut halfway through them. Therese chuckled at my incredulous reaction. You can go see for yourself after the ceremony. Still, I say Rnd would have won eventually.

    Soraseo, whose sharp ears had caught on to our conversation, rode closer. I have not been defeated, she insisted with a warriors pride. But a spar is not a true battle.

    I am thankful neither of you went all-out, I said. If Rnd could indeed damage city fortifications while holding back, I dared not imagine what kind of power he could unleash when serious. We need you both alive and safe, thank you very much.

    There is wisdom in your words, Robin, Soraseo said without giving up. But I still would have won. Prince Rnd promised me a new training session.

    Therese and I both suppressed a chuckle at herpetitiveness. I admit it felt good to see. Soraseo rarely showed enthusiasm for anything. I hoped these spars with Rnd would lead to a fruitful friendship between them. She certainly deserved to make new friends in this foreignnd.

    We finally entered the ck Keeps courtyard and climbed down from our horses. We watched as ire and her guards took away her grandfathers corpse to the top of the castles walls and ced him on the pyre. The Arcane Abbey priests had dressed the count in his best finery. His corpse still looked fearsome in spite of his old age and wrinkles.

    ire said nothing as she set his funeral pyre alight. The Arcane Abbeys local high priest offered us a sermon as mes began to envelop the corpse.

    His soul shall return to the Soulforge, where the four artifacts shall reforge him on the Goddess anvil, the priest said. May the Firewand set his heart alight with hope. May the Seacup show him mercy. May the Windsword break the shackles of his sins, and the Earthcoin bring him prosperity.

    Unlike the Rivend Federation, Archfrost wasnt a nation for long-winded speeches. Instead, we all witnessed the cremation in grim silence as the spring wind carried the smoke across the citys skies. The counts ashes would mix with the citys snow, as my parents remains did before him. I hoped their essence would smother the Blight that threatened to consume ournd.

    Afterward, the nobles present gave their condolences to ire. Some who had known the count, Duke Sigismund chief among them, recounted what a great man he had been and that she should be proud to take up his name. Others gantly kissed her hand, promising her the assassins head. Others promised their help in these difficult times, while not so subtly asking whether she had considered marrying yet. After all, she was a lone young maiden with such arge domain to administer

    <em>The pyre isnt even cold yet</em>, I thought with disgust. Therese appeared as eager as I was to put these upstarts in their ce, but we both held our tongue. This fight was ires own to win. <em>They could at least show a little grace.</em>

    ire epted the condolences graciously, evaded questions about any marriagethough I did notice a hint of frustration in her gazeand all in all showed nothing but courtesy to her petitioners with one exception. One middle-aged nobleman with soft, familiar features caused her to visibly suppress a scowl when he approached her.

    Is that Ser Hugdans father? I asked Therese. The familiar resemnce was quite visible.

    Therese nodded sharply. That is indeed his father, Baron Dolganov.

    From what I heard, the mana lean, beardless knight with ghostly gray eyes who now appeared younger than his supernaturally aged sonsoftly apologized to ire for his sons behavior and absence. Ser Hugdan would not attend the ball due to health concerns, whatever that meant. ire epted the apology without a hint of sincerity.

    <em>He doesnt seem to hold a grudge for his sons fate</em>, I thought as I watched the baron leave. <em>Or more likely, he''s hiding it well. </em>

    I didnt believe any wording from that mans mouth. He had fiercely tried to stake a im on the Brynslow estate not too long ago, and his reputation as a glorified thug followed him like the gue. He would make for a tempting recruitment target for the Knots.

    Send someone to shadow him, I whispered to Therese. I do not trust him.

    Already done, she replied.

    Thest and most important condolence was Rnds. Archfrosts crown princeuded thete Count Brynslows wisdom beforeplimenting his heir.

    From what I have heard of you, Lady ire, you have proved yourself more than up to the task he left for you, Prince Rnd said. I hope that Snowdrift will prosper under your rule. As Countess Brynslow, your challenges will be many.

    ire smiled thinly. Can I count on your support, Prince Rnd?

    Of course, Rnd replied before kissing her hand, more gantly than any of her would-be suitors. Let us build a new Archfrost together.

    And like that, Prince Rnd confirmed ires title in front of most of Archfrosts nobility. Her im to her grandfathers estate would go utterly uncontested so long as the future monarch lived. I noticed a few nobles in the audience frowning at the princes words, but none dared to voice their concern. One did not disagree publicly with the future king, let alone the Knight.

    <em>Who among them belongs to the Knots?</em> I wondered. Mersie informed me that the cult infiltrated Archfrosts government, though I suspected more spies among the Regents staff. <em>Cortaner will have much work on his hands.</em>

    With the funeral and condolences concluded ire, Therese, and the others moved on to wee the noble guests to their quarters. I was ready to follow them when a guard came to see me. Lord Robin, Inquisitor Gunndra demands an audience with you. She says it rtes to the current investigation.

    So soon? Cortaner said he would send for me if his group found anything, but I didnt expect him to get results within hours. Send her to the council room. I will greet her personally.

    A few minutester, I found myself sitting at a table with Inquisitor Gunndra on the other end. After politely greeting me with a silent nod, the woman checked the doors and windows for any eavesdroppers.

    <em>This one is exceedingly careful</em>, I thought. <em>A true professional. </em>Anything to report, inquisitor?

    I have good and bad news, Lord Robin. Gunndra presented me with a hermetically closed, oval-shaped ss container full of swirling yellow liquid. I immediately identified it as a show globe. Apothecaries hung them above their doors to advertise their craft to strangers. The good news is that we have intercepted an attempt to smuggle this substance into the city as medical goods.

    You suspect the Knot of Wrath is involved in it? I studied the container while remaining careful not to break it. Watching the swirling liquid inside filled me with unease. Its coloration reminded me too much of Belgoroths berserk me, and my magical sight picked up the presence of unnatural essence. What is this? Poison? ming oil?

    We arent sure yet, and our prisoners werent entrusted with that information, but we requisitioned an entire crate of them. Gunndra crossed her arms, her expression grim. ording to the smugglers we interrogated, the enemy will strike tonight.

    I expected as much, but good to have my suspicions confirmed. Do they intend to attack the prince at the ball?

    Thats the bad news, we cannot tell what form the attack will take yet. Only the high-ranking members of the cult know the details and theckeys we captured could not tell us much. Though we can assume this substance factors in their ns. Gunndras hand moved to the hilt of her sheathed sword. The Knot of Wrath is not particrly subtle in our experience. They prefer violent massacres and arsons over targeted assassinations.

    They will stage a terror attack, I guessed. The Goldport Massacre came to mind. Instead of merely killing Mersies family in a subtle way, the Knots massacred everyone inside their mansion, servants included, in such a bloodthirsty way that it triggered a Blight. How did they infiltrate the city? We have already ordered a curfew with the princes visit.

    Cortaner suspects some of them traveled into the city days ago by disguising themselves as merchants eager to assist in the citys recovery, Gunndra exined, much to my dismay. Snowdrift had been in such dire straits that the Trade Guild did not look too deeply into the background of would-be immigrants. Others might belong to your guests staff.

    I could already think of one noble willing to help the Knots.

    In any case, I would not expect more than a few dozen assassins, Gunndra exined. Demonic cults are by nature highly selective and tight-lipped to avoid discovery, with argerwork of dupes who remain unaware of their employers true nature.

    I suppose the cult invited demons to crash our party? I would be disappointed if they did not.

    Gunndra scowled. Chastels name hase up more than once.

    I studied her face for a moment and considered the implications. <em>Mersie will be at his throat once she learns this, if she doesnt know already</em>.

    Has Lady Marika mentioned him to you? Gunndra asked with a frown.

    Marika? No, she hadnt, but it didnt take me long to connect the dots. Hes the man who recruited her husband into Belgoroths cult.

    We doubt Chastel is a man anymore. He has been active for at least a hundred years. Ancient demons are more adept at hiding their nature and essence.

    Man or demon, this fiend had not only ughtered Mersies family, but also threatened Marikas to the point of traumatizing Beni into muteness. I would have his head. Are you familiar with him?

    No. Her hand moved to the scars on her cheek. But I was acquainted with his kind at a very young age.

    I winced at that. In all likelihood, she was a demon attacks survivor. Unlike Mersie, she had chosen to pursue her revenge in the light rather than from the shadows.

    Chastel follows a very specific pattern, Gunndra warned me. He usually targets smallmunities or families, and favors violent massacres that shake the publics faith. The terror he spread then fuels the creation of Blights that go on to haunt areas for generations.

    So we can assume he will try to spread chaos in order to break the seal on Snowdrifts Blight, I guessed. Have you managed to strengthen it?

    We shaped additional locks on top of Lady Marikas existing protections. Gunndras scowl eased up a little. Your efforts to inspire hope in the people of Snowdrift are already beginning to weaken the Blight.

    This warms my heart, I replied. Though to <em>weaken </em>it is not <em>destroying </em>it.

    The lock remains fragile for now, Gunndra confirmed. This particr Blight is directly linked to Belgoroth. If Chastel spreads enough chaos, even for a moment, it might be enough to disrupt the seal.

    In short, they had to eliminate the cultists before whatever attack they nned could gather momentum. A few dozen assassins wouldnt be too much of a problem to deal with under normal circumstances, but Fenrivos had shown me how a single demon could do more damage than an entire garrison of soldiers. It didnt take many people to stage a terror attack or set a city on fire. Only sufficient preparation and cruelty.

    Keep me informed of anything, I ordered. Well remain on our guard.

    If I had to thank Sforza for anythingbesides dyingit was training me to fit in among nobles.

    The best way to fit among parasites who never had to work a day in their life was to portray a subtly wealthy look. If one didnt carry enough gold on themselves, they would appear poor and stringy. Carry too much, and that same person would look like an insecure upstart eager to showcase his newfound wealth. Ostentatiousness attracted the wrong kind of crowd: the vapid, the vain, and the greedy.

    While I disdained nobility as a conceptmerit should determine wealth, not birthindividual nobles were often honorable andpetent. The subtly wealthy look helped attract the ires and Rnds of the world. People I could do business with.

    Hence I decided to show up to the ball wearing a ck, gold-lined coat over a wool shirt also lined with gold, alongside a scarlet scarf with silver epaulets on the shoulders. ck boots rose all the way to stainless white pants bound by a belt where I had sheathed my rapier. This outfit was the perfect mix of Archfrost austerity and Rivend Federation fashion. I was a proud son of the kingdom who returned prosperous in foreign wealth and knowledge.

    Moreover, my clothes let me hide daggers up my sleeves. Those always came in handy at parties.

    Poor Marika, however, appeared like a fish out of water in this environment. Therese lent her one of her dresses, a dashing garmentposed of a pink corset covered by a red, long-sleeved doublet and an orange overskirt that reached all the way down to her purple sandals. A butterfly-shaped golden ne with rubies matching well with Marikas hairpleted the picture. I expected many bachelors to flock to her side tonight, hero mark or not.

    However, Marika herself appeared deeply ufortable in her new garments. She grabbed part of her dress to avoid tripping, and the way she moved told me she had never worn a tight corset in her life.

    I look terrible, sheined, her breath short and uneasy.

    You look splendid, I insisted.

    Marika red at me. Why am I here, Robin? I should be in my workshop or with Beni.

    Besides protecting tonights guests, Archfrosts richest and most powerful nobles have gathered tonight, I reminded her with a smile. All of them are potential investors and clients. As for Beni, hes in a safe ce and better guarded than our own crown prince. Enjoy the evening.

    I wont. Knowing her son was safe reassured Marika a little, albeit not by much. Im not good at social gatherings, Robin. Its why I usually let Will handle the business side.

    I felt the same at first, I confessed. I was quite shy when I was young.

    She looked at me in disbelief. <em>You</em>? Shy?

    Now, you make it sound like I am utterly shameless. I didnt know what to make of her doubtful gaze. I was terribly nervous the first time I attended a ball. Have you ever attended a theater y?

    Once or twice.

    Just think of it like theater, I said, trying to cheer her up. A game. You are an actor ying a role, and when the y ends at midnight, all will forget your performance.

    Im not sure I agree with you, but I see what youre getting at. Marika stared at my arm as if it were a snake. Are we supposed to hold hands?

    Simply hold my arm, I suggested. After a short moment of hesitation, Marika did so, trembling all the way. Dont worry. Ive got your back.

    Thank you. Marika gathered her breath and her courage. Lets do this.

    I opened the door and we stepped into the grand ballroom.

    Out of all the ck Keeps rooms, this one was the mostvish. Hundreds of immactely dressed guests gathered in small groups over a floor of Stonndian marble. Ancient tapestries showcasing the Brynslow silver pegasus on a blue field fluttered next to the dancing light of chandeliers. A group of minstrels trained by Soraseo yed foreign songs next to entertainers such as fire-eaters and sword swallowers. Unobstructive servants delivered wine and brandy to nobles discussing thetest juicy gossip.

    While Rivend Federation balls always bordered on free-spirited chaos and debauchery, Archfrosts elite proved more formal. No one dressed indecently, no intellectuals gathered in a corner to discuss philosophy while smoking drugs, and no amorous couple kissed and cuddled in public. The guests cluttered into groups of friends that didnt mingle together.

    At least, until they noticed me.

    Lord Merchant! I heard someone call, followed by a chorus of <em>Lord Robin </em>and<em> Lord Waybright.</em>

    Marika winced at the tide of noblemen closing in on us like a pack of wolves. Marika, weve fought a demon, I teased her. Dont you think we can fend off a few lordlings?

    Marika chuckled nervously. I should imagine them with horns. It would make this easier.

    Thats the spirit, I said before smiling at our new posse. Greetings, gentle lords anddies.

    As I expected, Marikas presence immediately invited the guests curiosity. Who is thisdy, Lord Merchant? a young noblewoman asked, before covering her mouth upon noticing Marikas mark. Could she be

    Allow me to introduce you to my fellow hero, Marika Lunastello, I said gantly. Our generations Artisan.

    A pleasure, Marika replied with sheepish embarrassment. She hardly said another word afterward, letting me take the lead.

    I would have loved to say that I had a pleasant time speaking with Archfrosts elites. That was not the case. I might have been a social butterfly, but the kingdoms elites were a cagey group more interested in asking me details about hard facts such as Snowdrifts situation than exchanging quips and banter.

    Still, I made the best of this opportunity. I exined how my fellow heroes and I intended to renovate the city, that we would help Archfrost recover from its woes, and that we were eager to work with the soon-to-be-king Rnd to achieve our mutual objectives.

    So the heroes stand with Prince Rnd, a noble with a sharp gaze observed. With one exception.

    The Cavalier will return into the fold eventually, I insisted. Marika is currently openingmunications with her.

    Marika briefly red at me for bringing attention upon herself, and tried to say as little as possible. I have only sent a letter, she insisted. But I hope she will see reason.

    We all hope to see the Glorious Generatione again, a pretty noblewoman in her twenties said. She blushed slightly when our eyes met and swiftly changed the subject. Will Lady Eris be among us? I do not see her.

    Lady Eris is like the wind, I answered. Shees and goes as she wills.

    In truth, I had asked Eris to patrol and to check on our allies across the city, Cortaner chief among them. I expected her to teleport in our midst with bad news at any moment. She also kept an eye on Baron Dolganovs movements. I didnt see him anywhere in the ballroom, so I expected foul y from him.

    A pity Eris wouldnt teleport near Chastel to gather information on his whereabouts. <em>I wouldnt try that, Robin, </em>she had replied with a faint smile when I asked her if she ever considered it, <em>If my power was </em>instantaneous <em>instead of merely </em>quick<em>. I would rather avoid spending a minute in close quarters with a demon eager to take my pretty head, thank you very much.</em>

    Eris power held great potential for hit-and-run assassinations, but it left her deeply vulnerable for a short time. I agreed with her. I was loath to risk a friends life that way.

    If I may be bold enough to ask, Lord Robin, what is up with Snowdrifts ships? a guest questioned me.

    This puzzled me, doubly so when Marika choked. What of it? I asked. I hadnt checked on the shipyard for a while.

    I have heard word of how thest three of your new ships were named, the man answered with a smile. The <em>Thirsty Merchant</em>, the <em>Maidenless, </em>and the <em>Gingerfox</em>. Seems to me your shipwrights have a quaint sense of humor.

    I squinted at the culprit, who lightened up a little at being caught in the act.

    I told you, Marika said in between chuckles. I told you I would get revenge.

    This felony calls for the highest retribution, I replied with the utmost seriousness. The next ship shall be named the <em>Burning Stew</em>.

    Ohe on, Marikained. It happened once. <em>Once</em>.

    And it was a disaster. We were lucky she hadnt set our house on fire that time, and that poor Benicio kept a bucket of water nearby. From what I gathered, he had grown used to his mothers abysmal cooking skills. One that will be remembered by all for generations toe.

    Careful, Robin, Marika warned me with a wink. I know where you live.

    So do I, I teased her back. <em>So do I.</em>

    Amusingly enough, the guests mistook our friendly banter for another kind. Are you two married?

    No, no, Marika replied, but she couldnt help but say too much. We live together, but we are not <em>together</em>, together. Upon realizing what she had just said, she started blushing. We keep separate rooms. And when I said nothing out of amusement, she managed to dig herself deeper. Im divorced.

    A few noblewomen covered their mouths in shock. A middle-aged baron from the north looked almost scandalized for a brief second before correcting his expression. Divorce wasnt too popr among Archfrosts traditionalist elites.

    I could not resist making fun of Marika. We do raise a child together though.

    Like any courteousdy would have in her situation, Marika stomped my feet with all of her might. As a true gentleman, I pretended not to notice. It did hurt though.

    I took a moment in-between questions to scan the room for familiar faces. Soraseo was already presentknowing her, she arrived first and on timewhile wearing a red Shinkokan garment with square sleeves, a ck sash, white socks, and sandals. The design on the dress surface represented blossoming pink petals. I believed the Shinkokan called it a kimono. Or kirimono? In any case, she was already swarmed with nobles, whom she handled with courtesy. In spite of thenguage barrier, my friend appeared asfortable at a noble party as on the battlefield.

    Rnd and Therese arrived soon after, stealing some of my thunder and admirers. Therese, as usual, dazzled everyone with her elegance. Her conservative blue dress and coat fit her financs heraldry, and the way she arranged her elegant silvery hair in a ponytail held by a silver brooch She did not need a crown to look like Archfrosts future queen.

    As for Rnd

    I squinted upon catching a glimpse of the prince. He dressed perfectly for the asion, with a blue ermine mantle and a white coat decorated with Archfrosts coats of arms. Yet he appeared uneasy holding Thereses arm. His fingers were clenched, tense. His posture was a bit too straight. His nervousness contrasted greatly with his fiancs confidence.

    I would have put this on a simple case of a young man unused to romance being uneasy holding a womans arm, but I didnt sense that kind of vibe from Rnd. In fact, I sensed no physical attraction to Therese. If anything her touch made him ufortable. The source of uneasiness came from another wellspring.

    <em>Shame</em>, I guessed. <em>Guilt</em>.

    Over what? Rnd had been nothing but courteous to his fianc since he met her in an official capacity. Unless Could he be hiding a mistress or another romance? He was not yet eighteen, after all, and spent most of his life sheltered. Perhaps he had a crush in the capital to return to.

    Rnd sensed the nces I sent him and responded with a warm smile. Seeing me in the crowd helped him lighten up for some reason.

    <em>He clearly feels morefortable around men than women</em>, I noted, an idea forming in my mind. <em>Could he be...</em>

    Finally, ire arrived soon afterward alongside Minister Leclerc and Duke Sigismund. I admit I did not recognize her at first. I had grown so used to seeing her in armor that she appeared nearly unrecognizable in a dress. Hers was ck lined with purple and silver, alongside a silver ne that glittered in the ballrooms lights. We exchanged a brief gaze which caused her to blush.

    A, how adorable. A pity I could not tease her in public anymore.

    My amusement died when I noticed Mersie in the crowd.

    Unlike everyone else, she hade dressed ording to Rivendian fashion: a splendid velvet dress that scandalously left her shoulders exposed. Her garment was the darkest shade of crimson, perfect to hide bloodstains, except for a shoulder wrap of white fur. An exotic pink flower bloomed among her perfectly groomed golden hair.

    Though she was surrounded by half a dozen men clearly vying for her favor, her head snapped in my direction before I could turn away. She sent me a wicked smirk, the one she used whenever she was up to some mischief, and moved her gloved hand down her neckline in an awfully suggestive way. I wondered if she wore a corset underneath

    <em>Curses</em>! I thought while looking away. I tried to think of anything other than undressing her, which only made me picture it more vividly. <em>Damn it!</em>

    Struggling with lingering feelings, huh? Marika asked after observing the entire interaction.

    <em>More like lingering lust</em>. I turned my gaze at all the fairdies who attended this evening. There had to be a lovely blonde among them who <em>wasnt </em>my ex-lover. I knew she would infiltrate that ball somehow, but she clearly dressed that way to fluster me. <em>And worst of all, it''s working.</em>

    Why do you stick with me, Robin? Marika whispered into my ear after we managed to fend off most of our posse by making a beeline to the appetizers. I can tell youre dying inside not to fool around.

    To spare you a tide of marriage proposals, I replied. As a hero, Marika made for a prized match in spite of herck of a noble title. So long as we appear together, no ambitious bachelor will dare trouble you. I thought you would not appreciate those.

    Marika studied my face with a frown. I see

    Besides, Archfrosts elites need to know that we are partners with equal standing. That they cane to you directly instead of going through me. I smiled at her. That way, if anything happens to me or the Frostfox Company, you will have argework of clients and allies to help support yourself.

    Oh. Marikas frown eased up into an expression of gratitude. She appeared genuinely moved. That that is thoughtful of you. I appreciate it.

    Youre wee. I raised an eyebrow. Wait, does that surprise you?

    Marika sighed. My former husband Will used to deal with everything rted to sales and clients. I thought we were simply covering each other to the best of our abilities, but in retrospect he was simply trying to sideline me. To exploit my work for himself. She looked away with a mix of anger and sorrow in her gaze. If he were in your position, I wouldnt be here today.

    I pointed out the obvious. I am not your former husband, Marika.

    You did remind me of him at first. He was a smooth talker too. Marikas lips stretched into a blissful smile. Im d I was wrong.

    I <em>am </em>a smooth talker, Marika. The kind that backs up his words with action. I nced at the untainted dance floor. Are you thankful enough to grant me the first dance?

    Marika blushed in embarrassment. I do not know how to dance. Not like this.

    Truly? If I had known, I would have sold her the appropriate skills. I will guide your hand.

    And so I gently led Marika onto the dance floor. She shivered a bit when I put a hand on her waist, but eventually rxed as we took our first steps to the tune of the bards lutes and biwas. Others joined us, including Rnd and Therese. Duke Sigismund invited the much younger ire to dance, and she politely epted. As for Mersie, she had so many suitors I wondered if they would end up dueling for her favor.

    While she proved inexperienced as warned, Marika proved far from hopeless. After a round waltz or two, she started getting the hang of it and growing more confident. She was grinning ear to ear by the time wepleted the first dance.

    You were splendid, Robin, Rnd congratted me with a gentle smile once we finished. He then suddenly remembered he ought to thank my dancing partner. You too, Lady Marika.

    Thank you, Your Majesty, Marika replied with a slight blush. Your Grace? Your Highness?

    Please, call me Rnd. He took Marikas hand into his own and kissed it gantly. We are both heroes, after all.

    Would you like to switch partners? Therese suggested. I will let you borrow my prince, Marika.

    Me?! Marikas shyness turned to mortification. Dancing with a prince?! But I I am a mere cksmith, I cant

    You are the Artisan and the best exorcist in the world, I reminded her. I daresay you are overqualified.

    Well-spoken, Robin. Prince Rnd graciously entrusted his future queen to me. Lady Marika, if you would allow me this dance?

    Marika could hardly refuse an offer from Archfrosts crown-prince. A minuteter, I was dancing with Therese. Unlike my roommate, she proved an experienced partner and matched my moves perfectly.

    You should invite ire to dance next, she immediately chided me. She would appreciate it greatly.

    I was explicitly told not to show that kind of interest in public to avoid rumors.

    Is that what she told you? Therese smiled. No doubt ire wishes to avoidparisons with her mother, that is true, but she is mostly trying to hide her shyness.

    I smiled back at her and yed coy. ire, shy?

    She can charge fearlessly in battle, and find excuses to keep boys away just as quickly. Therese winked at me. The two of you would make a good couple.

    Ah, that exined that look of disappointment I had seen earlier this morning. Are you trying to y matchmaker for your friend?

    Yes, Therese replied bluntly. I do have other candidates in mind, but you remain my first pick so far. Marrying a hero would strengthen her position, and she needs someone who can support her in difficult times.

    I am honored, I replied lightly. But I think you are misled.

    Therese raised an eyebrow. Oh?

    The truth is, I do not intend to Archfrost forever, let alone Snowdrift, I exined. My short-term goal is to help renovate the city and eliminate the Blight, but once Iplete this task, I intend to move on.

    Where?

    Wherever the market takes me, I mused. There are so many trades to make, ces to see, businesses to build. I have a whole world to explore and while I love my homnd, Archfrost is only a small part of it. That and

    And?

    Belgoroth is a Demon Ancestor among seven, whose cults span all of Pangeal, I pointed out. His kindred are no doubt scheming in other nations. The mark chose me to be one of mankinds heroes. Not just Archfrost.

    Seeing the Blight from within had engraved into my mind the severity of my mission. The Demon Ancestors were an existential threat that sought to turn the entire world into a hellscape. They had ruined countless lives, from Marika and Beni to Mersie and the Goddess knows how many. They had to be stopped, no matter the cost.

    Therese scowled as she put two and two together. My dear ire is duty-bound to Snowdrift. She wont follow you, and you wont stay for her.

    I am all too willing to love and let go, I said as we waltzed among the couples. But I doubt we can build anything in the long term.

    I see. Therese sighed. Disappointing, but understandable.

    You will find a better match for her than me, I reassured her. ire was kind, intelligent, and well-born. She would find someone worthy of her in time. Speaking of partners, is there an issue between you and Rnd? He seems strangely distant.

    From her scowl, Therese had noticed it too. I have heard rumors about my fianc.

    As I feared. He already has someone?

    Or so I was told, Therese confirmed. He promised he would remain faithful and devoted once we are married, but I am not certain if he is capable of it.

    Truly? I was a bit surprised. I considered myself an excellent judge of character and Rnd struck me as both honest and dutiful. The very kind of man who would take wedding vows with the utmost seriousness. You think he would lie to you?

    No, no. If the rumors are true, the problem lies elsewhere. Therese bit her lip in annoyance. I could not confirm anything yet. It might simply be hearsay.

    Considering the prince''s behavior, I had an inkling to what that problem might be, or at least what kind of rumors it might cause. I wasn''t certain if there was any truth to them, but I could see how it might worry his fianc.

    Our dance ended before I could pester Therese for more details. I hesitated to follow her advice and invite ire when <em>someone </em>beat her to the punch.

    My apologies, Lady Therese. Mersie approached me with the aplomb of a warlord entering a newly conquered city and offered me her hand. But might I requisition Lord Robin for the next dance?

    <em>No, </em>I immediately thought. A dozen jealous noblemen red daggers at me. That would be ill-advised, miss

    Luminara. Baroness Luminara. The lie was spoken with such confidence I almost believed it. Mersie had nailed that easy noble I was born to rule attitude. You and I have much to discuss.

    Was she trying to get my attention to deliver important information? Or just trying to fluster me? Maybe both?

    I nced in ires direction, only to find out Rnd had selected her as his new dancing partner, much to Thereses dismay. Duke Sigismund approached the future queen, no doubt with a simr offer in mind.

    One dance, I agreed, much to my chagrin. Only one.

    Of course, Mersie replied with a tone that implied that I would not keep that vow.

    I reluctantly let go of Thereses hand and took Mersies into my own. I immediately felt a shiver down my spine when I seized her waist. She didnt wear a corset under her dress. One strong pull and the whole thing woulde crashing down on

    Damn it, I cursed as the music began.

    Ive known you to be more polite, Robin, Mersie lightly chided me as we began to waltz. This dance immediately felt different from my previous partners. I had to take charge with Marika and Therese had matched my moves through her experience, but Mersie followed my steps naturally. She simply knew me. I am disappointed you invited Marika over me.

    We both know it would have been a terrible idea. <em>Who will buy my lingering feelings?</em> I almost blurted out to the nearest dancer. <em>Please take them away! Theyre distracting me! Shes distracting me!</em>

    Once upon a time, you delighted in terrible ideas, Mersie teased me, her eyes searching for someone among the dancers. Chastel? Someone else? I miss the Rivends masquerades. This partycks a certain ir.

    You dide masked, I chided her. <em>Baroness</em> Luminara?

    I bought the title and name a few years ago. Mersie winked at me. I hide better in in sight.

    Rnd and Soraseo sent nces in our direction, their eyes lingering on Mersie. They had sensed her heroic mark. If she had dared to show herself in public so brazenly, then it meant the enemy would strike soon.

    I know Chastel is in town, Mersie whispered into my ear. I want to interrogate him before I gut him. Can it be arranged, Robin? I would consider it a personal favor.

    Of course she wanted something from me. Im not certain we can keep a demon alive. They dont do too well in captivity.

    Im sure you will find a solution, Robin. You are a problem solver. I couldnt exin why, but hearing herpliment me warmed my heart. Ive decided to invest in yourpany.

    Are you trying to bribe me, Miss Luminara? I looked into her eyes. I am not for sale.

    I know. She approached her lips so close to mine I could smell her fresh, mint-heavy breath. Consider it a gift.

    <em>Dont kiss her, dont kiss her, dont kiss her</em>

    A cloud of white mist erupted in the dancing floors midst, interrupting the ball. I almost drew a dagger on instinct, as did Mersie, until I noticed a familiar figure emerging from the smoke.

    Eris! I said, trying to hide my relief. <em>Saved from myself!</em>

    Sorry to interrupt this splendid evening, Eris said, her eyes wandering across the room to pick up her fellow heroes, But weve got a problem.

    Five minutester, all heroes present in SnowdriftCortaner and Mersie includedhad gathered in the ck Keeps council room. Considering the matter at hand, introductions were short and to the point.

    The Assassin, Cortaner calmly noted when Mersie unveiled her mark. Good. Your power will be useful tonight.

    I didnt expect you to be one of us, Lady Luminara, Rnd noted. He had left Therese in the ballroom along with ire in order to reassure the guests that the situation was well under control.

    I would appreciate it if you did not share the word, Prince Rnd, Mersie insisted.

    Of course. Rnd turned to face Colmar, who had called for the meeting. Are we expected to fight soon?

    Im afraid so, Colmar confirmed grimly. He presented us with a bottle of white wine, except the liquid was a bit too sickly yellow on a closer look. See for yourself.

    We confiscated it from one of Baron Dolganovs attendants, Eris exined. His men attempted to smuggle six of those bottles into the gathering. Thankfully, the guards arrested them before they could get anywhere close to the ballroom.

    Rnd scowled, his eyes brimming with anger. And the baron himself?

    Missing, Eris replied.

    <em>My suspicions paid off</em>, I thought. In a way, I was almost relieved. Ser Hugdans father had been bound to be a problem for ire even if he hadnt thrown his lot with demonic cultists. <em>Nothing gets my blood pumping like purging corrupt nobles.</em>

    Marika paled upon studying the liquid. Its the same essence as the berserk me.

    Indeed, Colmar confirmed. After careful examination I have confirmed that this is not a liquid, but a gas.

    A gas? Rnd asked, his eyes widening. Like smoke?

    Of a sort, Colmar confirmed. Once the container breaks, the substance turns into an essence-charged miasma. I strongly suspect Florence used the Purple gue as a temte to develop this weapon.

    How can you be sure its Florences work? I asked him.

    She carried some of the substances used to develop this weapon when west met her. Colmar crossed his arms. The gas will induce heightened aggression, which shall steadily escte into a state of frenzy. The subject will lose the ability to recognize friend from foe while a rush of adrenaline will dull their pain. The mind will interpret any movement, no matter how trivial, as an attack.

    Those were the same symptoms we had observed at the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>. Men would tear others apart in berserk rage until they were killed themselves.

    Those bastards My hand clenched in fury. Theyll tear the city apart.

    My anger paled before Soraseos own, however. Her polite expression had twisted into one of barely-restrained fury and she started raising her voice. This is pure dishonor! she all but snarled. Tricking others into ying the innocent that is the greatest sin!

    Theres more, Marika warned. The more anger they spread, the stronger the Blight will be. Too much and the seals will shatter.

    The cultists will target the <em>Gilded Wolf</em> too, Cortaner stated without any doubt. My men are already in position. They will hold the line until we purge the cultists.

    Then there is no time to waste. Rnds hand moved to his swords hilt. Which ces will the Knots attack first? I would have expected popted areas, but with the curfew everyone should be at home.

    Where the wind blows, Soraseo guessed immediately.

    They will need elevated points to efficiently spread the gas, Colmar confirmed. Hills, towers, any elevated ce that can help the night wind carry it. Too far and the effect will be diluted, so we can exclude locations outside the citys limits.

    Since the wind blew north to south at this time of the year, I could think of six ces that fit Colmars description. The ck Keep, I whispered. The cistern, the cathedral, the Witchcrafter Guilds office, the northern watchtower, and the old observatory. All these locations are carefully guarded.

    This citys soldiers are no match for a demon, Cortaner said bluntly. We should expect more than one.

    Unfortunately, he was probably right. I doubted Chastel was the only demon in town. This was the Knots chance to wipe out a third of the heroes. They would call upon all avable resources.

    Prince Rnd immediately took charge. We will split into groups and aim for all the noted locations. I am powerful enough to stand on my own, as is Soraseo.

    Soraseo nodded sharply, her hand clutching her sword to unsheath it on a moments notice. I shall y any demon that stands in my way.

    I can operate on my lonesome too, Mersie said with confidence.

    Are you sure? I couldnt help but ask her, before remembering how she had ughtered an entire room without leaving a trace.

    Mersie answered my worries with a dreadful smile that sent shivers down my spine. A single caress will put them in the tomb.

    Then the rest of you will split into teams of two, Rnd decided. He started assigning roles with the confidence of someone who had been raised to rule. Lord Cortaner and Lady Marika on one hand, Lord Colmar and Robin on the other. Lady Eris, you will protect the ck Keep in our absence and coordinate efforts by teleporting from one group to another.

    Eris chuckled to herself. If anyone tries to steal your beloved, I will call for help.

    I I appreciate the thought, Rnd replied before assigning locations to each and every one of us. Colmar and I were entrusted with securing the cathedral. Any questions?

    No, Cortaner replied before immediately moving towards the door. He nced over his shoulder at Marika, who was busy staring through the council rooms window rather than following him. There is no time to waste, woman.

    No, Marika confirmed, her jaw clenching. No, there isnt.

    My stomach soured as I joined her at the window and opened it wide to see better. The darkness of night nketed Snowdrift, with only a few lightsing from houses and forges dancing across its cityscape. However, I quickly noticed a candle burning on the horizon.

    A yellow bonfire shone atop the north watchtower.

    The attack had already begun.

 Chapter Sixteen: Poisoned Skies

    Chapter Sixteen: Poisoned Skies

    With little time to waste, Colmar and I departed on foot towards the citys cathedral with a squad of guards. I would rather have taken horses or pegasi, but thetter struggled to stay within arms reach of my fellow hero.

    I am sorry, Robin, Colmar apologized. My presence tends to spook animals.

    Because they sensed his true nature, no doubt. Its fine, I reassured him. The cathedral is close enough that walking there on foot makes little difference.

    That was why I had selected this area when we divided up the city between ourselves. Rnd, as befitting his ss as the Knight, immediately went towards the north watchtower. Soraseo traveled to the Witchcrafter Guildthe only spot on Snowdrifts other bankwhile our allies spread out on mounts across the city.

    <em>I hope we arent toote</em>, I prayed in my heart. Only the north watchtower had been taken over so far, but I had no doubt the Knots were besieging other points as we moved.<em> I hope our marks will protect our minds.</em>

    I hade equipped for battle, and the twelve or so soldiers with us had been briefed on what to expect. They were to fall back the moment they smelled any gas or inhaled strange smoke. We couldnt afford to fight our own forces.

    Our troupe arrived within sight of the building when I heard pping wings above the street. I looked up to see a familiar friend riding atop a pegasus.

    ire? I asked. What are you doing here?

    Defending my city, ire replied proudly. Much like I traded my ball costume for a metal breastte, she hade equipped for battle. Mail always fits her better than a gown. Therese will take care of the guests.

    <em>Why did I even bother asking? </em>I wondered as we approached the cathedral. Still, good to see her with us.

    Though the Arcane Abbey operated multiple churches within Snowdrifts limits, none matched the cathedral south of the ck Keep in grandiosity. This architectural marvel rose majestically in the midst of a paved za, its soaring spires surrounded by statues representing the Four Artifacts the Goddess crafted the world withand who oversaw her work in her absence. The Arcane Abbeys lozenge-shaped gilded emblem glittered atop the tallest tower.

    However, the area already bore the scars of the Knots arrival. Traces of fresh blood darkened the walls near the entrance, shards of stained ss windowsy scattered on the cobblestone ground, and the carved oaken doors had been smashed open.

    And there was the Stusk in the room: the half a dozen impaled dead priests in the middle of the za. Our foes were in the middle of raising a new stake when we arrived. I counted at least four bloodthirsty cultists, men and women in armor wearing metal masks themed after Belgoroths lion-like face. They hade equipped for battle too: all of them carried bloodied daggers and swords. A murder of crows already flew in circles in the air above the cathedral, waiting for an opportunity to feed on the staked victims below. These dead priests would be nothing more than appetizers for the ughter toe.

    I briefly wondered how such a small group managed to massacre the Abbeys staff until I sensed eyes watching me from above.

    Archfrosts churches avoided using gargoylesit made it easy for the real monsters to hide in in sightyet two creatures had taken up the job on their own. Eight-foot-tall beasts of bulging muscles and silver fur observed us from elevated spots, their crimson eyes glittering in the darkness. The carved skulls of great horned beasts reshaped into helms hid most of their facial features, except for their beastly snout and sharp fangs. Both of them carried two heavy spears infused with the same fiery essence as my own dagger.

    Werewolves.

    Of all the beastmen races, none were as dreaded as the werewolves, for they could hide among men easily enough. I heard most went undiscovered, since the transformationacademics could never agree whether it was permanent or notrequired a high degree of stress or exposure to specific phenomenon to trigger. In fact, some werewolves cunningly exchanged their young with newborn human children, causing families to unknowingly raise their brood in their midst.

    <em>This is going to be a hard fight</em>, I thought grimly as I drew my rapier and dagger.

    Robin, the roof, Colmar warned me.

    He pointed at the tallest tower. The bronze bell was gone, reced with a pile of firewood and wood barrels which I assumed were filled with chemicals. Two figures were putting the finishing touches on the infernal contraption: a strange,nky gentleman nearly as tall as the werewolves and dressed in purple wool; and an alchemist wearing a simr outfit as Colmar, with the exception that their gas mask resembled a leather wolfs face rather than a bird.

    I recognized the former as Chastel from his description, while his aplice was probably Mother Wolf, the Knot of Wraths leader.

    <em>We arent toote</em>, I thought with relief. Thanks to the curfew, most of the citys citizens were safely at home. No risk of melee so far.

    I didnt need to say anything. ire immediately flew straight at the tower with her sword raised for the kill. The werewolves on the wall let out a screeching howl loud enough to wake the dead, alerting the cultists to our presence while the wolf-masked alchemist turned in ires direction.

    Onward! I shouted at the soldiers while leading the charge myself. Dont let them light the pyre! For Snowdrift!

    For Snowdrift! my men shouted back, their spears and swords raised for battle.

    The wolf-masked alchemist turned in ires direction, their gloved hands surging with the sick yellow light of Belgoroths me. A focused burst of hellfire surged from her cylindrical filter straight at ires mount. Meanwhile, Chastel nonchntly tossed a torch onto the pyre and started setting it aze.

    I charged straight into the melee, guided by my purchased and trained skills and empowered by my mark. A cultist raised a sword to engage me in melee, only for my rapier to gut him. Weapons shed around me to the tune of beastly roars.

    On one hand, we had the Knots members outnumbered. They might be well-trained and armed, but they were still humans from what my magical sight could tell. On the other hand, the two werewolves swiftly jumped from atop the cathedral and crashed on the za with murder on their minds. One of them managed tond on top of one of my soldiers, its twin spears ripping the mans armor and flesh alike. He then charged straight at me, backhanding a guard out of its way with enough strength to send him flying.

    The werewolf was frighteningly quick for his size, but a beastman was no demon. My opponent was nowhere as fast as Fenrivos and Soraseos training helped refine my swordsmanship since then. I sidestepped out of his swings way and countered with a thrust of my rapier. I had only recently started practicing essence maniption under Marikas tutge, but she had taught me how to transfer steel essence into my weapon to strengthen it. My de pierced through the beasts hand sinews and forced it to drop one of his weapons. The werewolf let out a furious roar as his thick red blood spilled onto the cobblestones.

    The other one lunged at Colmar with equal ferocity. The Alchemist dodged a spear thrust to the head with amazing footwork and then mmed the cobblestone ground with his hand. The very ground beneath the werewolfs feet melted into a pit of mud. The beastman hopped away to avoid being trapped, allowing soldiers to nk it. A spear gored through its nk, though it did little more than anger it. One of the cultists was already down for the count, a sword stuck in his throat. The rest were falling back towards the cathedrals oaken door under my soldiers relentless assault.

    It had taken time, but my skill-sharing efforts and Soraseos training had paid off. Snowdrift finally possessed a city watch worthy of defending it.

    While the battle was going well, I knew our foes only meant to dy us. I managed to find a moment to nce at the sky. ires pegasus ran circles around the tower, avoiding fiery projectiles from the alchemist without managing to get close. Chastels pyre grew in intensity, consuming the gathered barrels and unleashing the terrible poison held within them. A noxious yellow smoke infused with Belgoroths murderous essence rose from the tower.

    Curses, the night wind already started spreading the gas away from the cathedral. I quickly figured out a drastic solution before it reached our citizens homes.

    Colmar! I shouted at my ally while dancing around my werewolf opponent and deftly deflecting a thrust of its spear with my dagger. Destroy the tower!

    Most would have balked at such an order, but Colmar knew what was at stake. With the other werewolf too busy bashing our guards shieldwall to intercept him, he dashed towards the cathedrals left side, found the perfect angle for his purpose, and swiftly mmed his hand against the facade. Walls of stone turned to salt and promptly weakened the buildings foundations.

    The cathedrals highest tower immediately began to copse with a terrible crack. I could not tell whether it crumbled on itself or simply lost its bnceI hadnt acquired enough architectural skillsbut the effect was the same: the spire trembled and dangerously leaned to the left.

    Colmar hurriedly fled to safety, while ire and her mount retreated. Chastel and his aplice were briefly taken aback, with the masked alchemist nearly stumbling off the belfrys edge. Chastel swiftly abandoned the pyre and then grabbed hispatriot in his arms.

    Itsing down! one of my soldiers shouted a warning, though he didnt need to. Everyone, from the guards to the cultists and their werewolf allies, were already running away.

    Colmars actions hadnt simply destabilized the central tower; they had weakened the cathedrals entire structure. The walls copsed onto the za in andslide of stone and dust. I barely had time to catch a glimpse of Chastel leaping off the tower while carrying his aplice in his arms.

    I managed to rejoin Colmar and our soldiers as a cloud of dust swallowed us all. The cathedral copsed behind us in a thunderous crash that shook the very earth. The central spire copsed onto the za, narrowly missing the closest houses. I narrowly avoided debris, while Colmar nearly tripped.

    By the time we regrouped with our surviving allies at the zas entrance, we could hardly see anything but a pile of rubble surrounded by heavy smoke. I searched for ire, and sighed in relief upon noticing her pegasus frame above us.

    Casualties? I questioned the soldiers.

    One dead and two wounded, one of my guards replied. One of hisrades bled from the nk after taking a werewolf spear to the chest, and another still had a dagger stabbing his shoulder. Colmar immediately grabbed a potion from his bandolier and applied the contents to the wounds. The substance quickly solidified, stopping the bleeding.

    My relief was short-lived, however, when I noticed streaks of yellow in the smoke rising from the za.

    The gas, I whispered. The pyre still remained active. While the towers copse meant the gas wouldnt progress far, it would still cover the za and perhaps the nearby streets. Colmar

    If we get close enough, I can turn stone and wood to ice, my friend replied. I would appreciate your assistance in it, Robin.

    He needed back-up to protect him. An ally who wouldnt risk turning against him under the gas influence. At this point, our soldiers risked bing liabilities at best or madmen at worst.

    I immediately turned to face the guards. Soldiers, evacuate the area! Go house to house and lead our citizens to safety! Dont let them breathe the gas!

    What about you, mlord? the eldest guard asked in return. A howl echoed from within the dust, signaling that at least one of the werewolves made it out of the copse.

    Well take care of the fire, I replied. Though I expected Colmar to do the heavy work on that front. The marks should protect us from the gas effects.

    Or at least I hoped they would. They shielded our minds from Belgoroths wicked essence, but a toxic gas affected the body.

    In any case, we had no time to doubt ourselves. Colmar and I walked into the dust and the smoke while our soldiers spread out to secure the perimeter. I smelled a rancid stench followed by the abominable aroma of burning sulfur. I remembered the pits beneath the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>. Both the poison in the air and the Blight growing in the middle of my city sprang from the same fetid spring.

    <em>Once I find these cultists, they will regret ever stepping foot in Snowdrift</em>. My skull hurt. My mark burned like the heart of the sun. I coughed smoke. <em>We will dispense with trials and skip straight to the executions. I will rip them to shreds with my bare</em>

    Robin. Colmar snapped his fingers before my eyes, as if to wake me up from a dream. It worked. Focus.

    <em>Its already affecting me</em>, I realized. I had only been half-right. My mark only shielded me from the gas up to a point. <em>Focus, he said. Focus on Marikas tips. Cycle, thats what she told you. Cycle.</em>

    ording to Marika, essence maniption was all about transfer. In and out. I cycled the power in my body, shedding off the poison like sweat and trying to guide it elsewhere. I was no exorcist, so I had little choice other than guide the gas properties to objects in contact with my body. I selected my dagger. Its de heated up, its edge growing yellow. I would need Marika to exorcise it by the nights end. This essence transfer helped clear my mind and ease the pain in my skull, but it demanded constant concentration.

    I suppose you dont have a spare filter? I asked Colmar while covering my mouth with my arm to cover a scoff.

    None that could keep this pestilence out, Colmar replied. He didnt appear affected by the gas. Then again, he did not breathe. Those two are still alive.

    I thought he meant the werewolves from earlier, until I saw shadows in the yellow smoke: a tall figure carrying another in their arms.

    You must be Sir Robin. If Chastel was in any way frightened or spooked, he didnt show it. If anything, his tone was eerily pleasant and nonchnt as he gently dropped the alchemist onto the ground. Forgive me for questioning your dedication, but what kind of Lord Protector destroys his own citys monuments?

    The kind that values the life of its citizens over piles of stones, I replied while raising my weapons for battle. I heard a howl in the background, my eyes darting to the side and catching a glimpse of a shadow. Colmar

    I know, he replied, his back against mine. Theyre trying to outnk us.

    Your noble efforts are wasted on this rabble, the enemy alchemist said. Have you tooe to be swept away by my smog too?

    I immediately recognized her voice, even through the gas mask. Florence, I said, my hands tightening their grip on my weapons. She had never left the city. Or should I call you Mother Wolf?

    Both will fit, Florence replied, confirming my suspicions. Chastel looming behind her like a pet waiting for amand.

    Florence, why? Colmar asked. To my astonishment, he sounded more saddened and confused by her treachery than enraged by her crimes. You are an apothecary who has sworn the Seacups oath. <em>To cherish and protect life in all its forms</em>. What do you hope to aplish with this hideous weapon?

    There is a truth that you have yet to understand, Colmar. Belgoroths Berserk me burned and swirled around Florences hands. Some lives arent worth saving.

    She threw a fireball at us.

    Colmar and I were forced to dodge in two different directions, me to the right and him to the left. Florences st of raging fire erupted upon the spot we used to stand on, melting cobblestone in an instant.

    A great shadow lunged at me from the smoke a second afterward. I barely had time to raise my rapier in time to stab a wed hand aiming to tear out my head. The werewolf I had disarmed earlier hade back with vengeance on his mind and swiftly tackled me to the ground with all his weight.

    Is it true that Miss Marika lives with you now? Chastel asked me with a tone that could pass for one of concern. He appeared supremely unaffected by the chaos around him. I was so d to learn she had found someone. Herst marriage didnt turn out too well, if you know what I mean

    She deserves better I grunted as I moved my head to the right to avoid the werewolfs jaws. Than what she got!

    Please, no need for uncouth words. What is it that humans say when they wed? Chastels smile morphed into two rows of sharp, feline fangs. A red cloud swirled out of his flesh and let him shed his human guise. Till death do us part?

    The creature Chastel transformed into resembled a feline from afar. The head was that of a sinister purple cat, albeit the size of a tiger and with far too many fangs. The creatures grotesque nature began from the shoulders down; the fur split into a kingly cloak. Once it split open in the middle, it unveiled a grisly, wriggling mass hiding underneath.

    Arms.

    Dozens of sickly white arms squirmed under the grisly mantle, their nails so sharp as to be ws the length of knives. I saw no hint of body or legs to support the demons weight. Chastel floated in the air through its own power, his cloak brushing against the ground without a sound.

    Come closer, my friend, Chastel whispered as he floated in my direction, his feline lips stretching into a ghastly grin. Let''s shake hands like gentlemen.

    Realizing the danger ahead, I managed to stab the werewolf trying to eat my face on the side of the head. My weapon let out a yellow sh as it gored through the side of the creatures head. The werewolf let out a growl, his body spasming as it gave its final breath. Unfortunately, it meant I was now trapped under a colossal beast who had gone utterly limp. I struggled to push him back while Chastel floated closer at a nonchnt pace.

    Meanwhile, Colmar had his hands full with Florence, literally. He attempted to turn the ground beneath her feet to mud as he did with the other werewolf, and to his credit it nearly caused his foe to slip. Florence responded by touching the slippery soil with her own hands and infusing it with essence. The sheer amount of power radiating from her told me she probably carried a dukedom''s worth of runestones under her apothecary uniform. The mud turned more solid and gained an iron texture; the act was a pale imitation of the Alchemist''s power, but it allowed her to stand on steady ground.

    <em>What is he doing?</em> I clenched my teeth in annoyance at Colmar''s caution. He should have turned the ground to acid rather than mud! "Colmar, you''re allowed to use lethal force! Don''t hold back!"

    I couldn''t tell whether he heard me or not, but at least he seemed to realize he would need to step up his game. He once again touched the ground and turned cobblestone into some form of colorful, dusty chemical that obscured him from sight. Florence''s mes hit nothing but air.

    Meanwhile, I managed to throw the werewolf''s corpse off me. I barely had time to roll to the side to avoid Chastel''s hands. His ws left finger-deepcerations in the stone. I leaped back to my feet and lunged at his throat with my rapier.

    He caught it in midair.

    Three of his hands gripped my weapon''s length in-between their fingers. I felt an immense pressure traveling through my sword. I tried to free it, to no avail; neither my arms nor my mark would let me match Chastel''s inhuman strength.

    "How kind of you," Chastel observed the rapier with middle interest. "What an elegant toothpick."

    Chastel shattered my weapon''s length with a flick of his hands.

    The pieces hadn''t fallen to the ground before I threw the hilt at his face. Chastel deflected the projectile with a backhand and continued to float closer.

    "Attacking me will cost you your life," I bluffed while trying to put distance between us. I hoped he would hesitate and consider whether my power could actually take away his life if he dared strike me; that it would create an opening.

    Chastel didnt even flinch. "No, no, no." Half a dozen of his many hands wagged their fingers at me. "No cheating."

    He <em>knew</em>, the bastard. He understood my power well enough to know my bluff wouldnt work.

    Chastels hands lunged at me like snakes, the arms supporting them bending in twisted and unnatural ways. I sidestepped around, using Soraseos footwork to dodge his attempts at wing me to death. With only a dagger remaining, engaging the demon in closebat was suicide.

    I had never felt the shorings of my ss more acutely than now. I was only as strong as the skills I purchased, and I took those from humans. Standing atop the pyramid called mankind meant little when confronted with inhuman monsters such as Chastel. He was just as dangerous as Fenrivos, if not more so, but this time Soraseo was too busy dealing with her own objective to rescue me.

    My salvation came from the sky.

    I heard pping wings and felt smoke being sted away from me. A winged rider descended from above. ire fell upon Chastel like a falcon with a spear for a talon, aiming for the head. The malicious feline demons ears turned slightly upon hearing hering. His body quickly turned translucent and quickly vanished from sight. ires spear hit only dust and emptiness.

    It wasnt teleportation. It <em>couldnt </em>be teleportation. The Wanderer alone possessed that power. It had to be some form of camouge. Dreadwolvesone of the world''s most feared monsterscould turn invisible at night.

    Meaning Chastel still lurked around. I just couldnt see him. Not even my magical sight could catch a whiff of his essence.

    Another problem presented itself: ire had her pegasus turn around and switch targets. Colmar had emerged from the dust to engage Florence in melee, trying to touch the other apothecary while she kept him at bay with mes. ire decided to exploit the opportunity and nk Florence from above.

    ire, get away! I shouted at her. The gas

    Shut up! she snarled back at me angrily. Im not standing idle while these monsters besiege my city!

    I almost replied the situation would only worsen if the berserk gas infected her until I realized it was already toote. ires pegasus was frothing at the mouth, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. Her rider looked better: she was only ring at Florence with murderous anger.

    I remembered Colmars warning well: first heightened aggression, then progression towards berserk rage. ire had hit the first stage. Mayhaps she mistook her chemically-induced bloodlust for righteous anger at seeing monsters despoil her city. She retained enough self-control to <em>believe </em>herself in control of her actions.

    And it cost her. Florence summoned a wall of me between herself and Colmar, then swiftly turned around to shoot a burst of me at ire. My friend tried to rein in her pegasus, but the maddened beast did not listen. The burst of fire hit her right wing and caused her to crash among the rubbles while ire rolled off her mount into the dust.

    ire! I cursed and tried to rush to her rescue, only to hear roarsing from the smoke. I barely had time to dodge a sword aiming straight for my chest.

    Two of the surviving cultists emerged from the gas to ambush me, snarling and roaring. They swung their weapons with wild abandon. One almost beheaded his ownpatriot while trying to cut me down.

    Florence hadnt bothered to protect her own troops from her gas.

    Colmar, treat ires wounds! I shouted at my fellow hero as he rushed around Florences wall of fire. Unfortunately, Florence herself was making a dash at ire. Colmar!

    I deflected the cultists blows with my dagger, the sheer power behind the strikes sending me reeling. The gas empowered my foes with inhuman strength and an absoluteck of restraint. Still, my heroic mark and skills allowed me to keep up. I dodged a wild swing, stepped closer, and sliced the cultists throat. The blow was lethal, his blood erupting from his neck in a red burst, but the body still kept swinging at me.

    I stepped to the right and watched it copse in a puddle of its own blood, still trashing around like a beheaded chicken. The other cultist was at my throat before hispatriot even hit the ground. I could have gutted him enoughhis madness caused him to abandon all forms of self-preservationif my attention wasnt split in multiple directions.

    <em>Wheres Chastel?</em> I thought, my eyes darting left and right while I tried to avoid the cultists strikes. My head hurt too from trying to shake off the gas essence. ire was back on her feet while her pegasus agonized, using her spear as a crutch. <em>I cant see him anywhere. He could strike anytime</em>

    To my horror, Florence reached ire before Colmar and to my utter astonishment, she did not attack.

    Lady ire. Incredibly, Florence extended a hand to the wounded countess. Are you alright?

    ire swung her spear at the masked apothecary, missing and nearly copsing under her own weight.

    You have some nerve to show your face here, Florence! ire spat with bloodshot eyes. She had recognized the apothecarys voice. How dare you return after murdering my grandfather!

    Florence did not retaliate. She simply took a step away from ire. You should thank me for it, she said calmly. Your father certainly did.

    It said something about her words weight that it caused ire to freeze in ce, the fury in her mind temporarily overwhelmed by surprise.

    Who do you think requested the count to be in, ire? Florence asked while looking over her shoulder. She was now trapped between ire and Colmar. I would have killed him quicker, but your sire wanted his demise to be drawn-out and painful. For your mothers sake.

    The rage in ires eyes returned. Dont you dare mention her

    Do you think madness is innate, Lady ire? Florence didnt let her answer. Many things can cause insanity. A defect of the brain. Possession. Disease The berserk gas yellow hue reflected on Florences ss goggles. Poison.

    You lie. ire charged onward with mad rage. Liar!

    Her arms froze in mid-motion like her legs and everything else. An invisible force lifted her above ground, twisting her arm until she dropped her spear.

    ire! Colmar and I shouted at the same time. We both rushed to her rescue and faced obstacles in our way: Florence for him, and thest cultist for me.

    Focusing entirely on my foe now that I didnt have to fear Chastels backstabbing, I deftly dodged a wild swing and stabbed my foe through the skull. To my astonishment, my fiery dagger ignited whatever ball of ignorance and falsehood nested within the cultists head. I had poured so much corrupted essence within the de that it burst out on its own in a hand-sized ze of yellow fire.

    On one hand, it killed the man on the spot so thoroughly his body went limp in an instant. On the other hand, my daggers edge was cracking at the seams. It was only a matter of time before the corrupted essence within caused it to explode.

    By the time I pushed the cultists corpse away, Colmar had reached ire and suffered the same fate.

    An invisible nose tightened around Colmars throat, the grip so strong as to bend leather and metal alike. My friend hastily tried to grab at the force choking him with both his hands. He briefly seeded, then went limp.

    Colmars head swiftly rolled off his shoulder.

    There was no shower of blood, no warning, no sound. Only a gas mask falling into the dust, followed by a headless corpse.

    Look at that, Mdy. Chastels terrible visage gained enough colors to be halfway visible through the smoke. His ws still had some of Colmars leather suit hanging from them. A beheaded chicken.

    I had my own suspicions about Colmars true nature. If I was correct, he would survive the blow. It might temporarily incapacitate him, enough that he would require assistance for a while, but he would recover.

    But if I was wrong if I was wrong

    I couldnt afford to be wrong!

    II leaped over the cultists remains, and though my heartbeat quickened tenfold, I managed to keep enough off a cool head not to lower my guard. Years of street fights taught me that much.

    It let me sense the spear thrown at me.

    I lowered my head, the steel brushing against my hair. The other werewolfthe one my guards had wounded in the chestquickly moved to bar my way. He had lost his weapons and blood poured out of his gashing wound, but his eyes remained alert and frightfully focused.

    You are not going anywhere near Mother, the werewolf said. His voice was all the more startling in that it sounded utterly normal, neither cavernously deep nor awe-inspiring. Fraud hero.

    He dashed forward, ws and fangs out.

    I tried to dodge and get past him to rush at Chastel. I only managed the first part. The beast anticipated my movements and kept me on the back foot. His mind remained sharp and devoid of the madness that infected his allies.

    Either the gas did not affect beastmenunlikely since it turned a pegasus rabidor Florence only saw fit to give these two an antidote and leave her human cultists to suffer. It didnt take me long to realize the implications: she cared more about her beastmen followers than the human ones. The codename Mother Wolf suddenly started making a twisted kind of sense.

    <em>Shes a werewolf herself</em>, I realized. <em>The kind that can hide among humans.</em>

    All the pieces fell into ce. I couldnt fathom what she would have to gain from destabilizing Archfrost, but now it made a great deal of sense: she wanted to see it copse so her kindred could move in.

    Do not harm her, Jean, Florence said, calmly but firmly. If she felt anything when staring at Colmars beheaded remains, I couldnt see it behind her mask. Her father wants her alive.

    Saddening, Chastel replied before suddenly twisting both of his captives arms.

    A terrible noise echoed across the burning za, followed by ires scream of pain. I clenched my teeth while dodging a lethal backhand. <em>Keep your focus,</em> I told myself.<em> Dont let yourself be distracted.</em>

    I did not keep my own advice. I blinked upon noticing another shadow sneaking up on us. She kept a hood over her head, but I recognized her bodynguage.

    It is unwise, the werewolf taunted me, unaware of the dangering at him from behind. My savior hade with a cloak caked in dust, to hide her smell. To lower your defenses

    A hand brushed against his back and he copsed dead.

    That was no hyperbole. All life left the werewolfs body in an instant. His breath stopped abruptly, his knees copsed, and his mighty pulse came to an abrupt end. His hollow eyes still red at me even in the afterlife.

    His killer stepped over the corpse without a hint of pity.

    Mersie never showed mercy.

 Chapter Seventeen: The Hill of Fire

    Chapter Seventeen: The Hill of Fire

    There were many legends about how the Assassins power worked.

    Some whispered that the Assassin required a persons name and face, then determined the cause of death. A stroke, ident, murder they believed the Assassin could kill anyone, anywhere, with the correct knowledge. Others believed Assassins put a marker on their target, apulsion that when triggered sent the victim to the afterlife.

    From what I could tell, the truth was much simpler.

    If the Assassin touched their target, they died. The end.

    My magical sight had witnessed it all. Mersies hand brushed against the werewolfs back, and his essenceall of what made the beastman what he wasflickered out like an extinguished candle. It was as if someone had pulled a lever to halt a mills turn. It simply stopped.

    I should have known a demon would target the cathedral, Mersie muttered before observing me closer. Are you harmed, Robin?

    Nothing more than scratches, but thanks. Unlike Colmar, I still had my head on my shoulders. Your assignment?

    Taken care of, Mersie replied. No demons.

    Florences n became clear to me. Since the north watchtower was still releasing its poison, I suspected most of the Knots demons had actually been deployed there. Florence anticipated us sending the Knight to deal with the first active pyre; with our strongest pinned down halfway across the city, she could release the gas in another location with less resistance.

    The woman was clever, I had to give her that.

    Mersies eyes squinted as she struggled to see through the smoke and noticed Colmars remains. The Alchemist

    Should be fine, I replied. I hoped so, at least.

    Mersie gave me a strange look. Anybody else would have doubted my words, but she trusted me. Maybe more than I trusted her.

    However, the bloodthirsty, furious look she sent Chastel upon noticing himfollowed by one of the creepiest smiles I had ever seenfroze the blood in my veins. She had recognized him even in his demon form. She had probably seen his ws tear apart her family and retainers many years ago.

    Rescuing ire is our priority, I reminded Mersie. Chastel still held her hostage, her arms twisted and broken. Florence had explicitly ordered her fiendish pet to keep ire alive, but as Soraseo said, <em>demons lied</em>.

    You take care of her, Mersie replied, her smile unblemished. Ill distract Chastel.

    <em>Or kill him,</em> her tone implied.

    We charged onward at the same time, perfectly synchronized. We knew each other too well. Still, Florence saw using, with mes swirling in her hands in turn.

    Strange, Mersie muttered to herself. Its the first time were fighting together.

    I would rather dance, I quipped back.

    Were still dancing, Robin, Mersie replied, two throwing knives shing from under her sleeves. The dance of des.

    Florence raised her hands to unleash sts of fire at us, but Mersie threw her knives first: one at the apothecarys eye, the other at Chastels face. One of the demons hands caught the projectile with lightning-fast reflexes. His mistress, however, did not possess the same agility. Mersies knife hit her masks ss goggle and shattered it. Florence let out a snarl of pain, her previously fiery hands moving to cover her mask.

    Astonishingly, Chastels head snapped in his mistress direction with what could pass for concern. That was all Mersie and I needed to strike. My fiery dagger cut through Chastels hands like butter. The monster shed no blood, nor did I feel much resistance. It was as if he had neither flesh nor bones under his skin.

    In any case, it forced him to drop ire. I grabbed her before she could hit the ground and swiftly retreated a few steps back.

    "ire?! ire, are you well?!" When I received no response and checked her pulse, I realized ire had passed out. The pain from having her arms broken, not to mention the smoke and gas, had caused her to faint.

    Meanwhile, Mersie engaged Chastel in melee. She dodged a quick strike aimed for her hand, grabbed the demon''s arm with both hands

    And nothing happened.

    Chastel did not drop dead, nor did my magical sight notice any change in his essence. Mersie blinked in bewilderment before jumping back before Chastel could counterattack.

    Im afraid I have no soul to take, dear Assassin, Chastel apologized, his tone utterly insincere. As I said: no cheating.

    It didnt take me long to figure out how the Assassins power worked. Mersies touch magically severed the bond between an individuals body and their soul. Thetter moved on to the Soulforge for reincarnation while the former dropped dead, a husk emptied of all life and essence.

    However, bing a demon involved selling ones soul to the Devil of Greed and letting their evil fill the void. There was no soul to send to the Soulforge since another alreadyid im to it.

    In a way, the person was already gone. The demon was simply a reanimated corpse, the rotting echo of a departed fool. All the goodif the likes of Sforza and Chastel ever held that in their hearthad left this world, and only their sins lingered behind.

    Good, Mersie replied coldly. New knives shed out of her sleeves, one for each hand. I wanted to take my time with you.

    Is that so? Chastel asked mirthfully. I guess that makes two of us then.

    He once again turned invisible and vanished from sight.

    Mersie didn''t appear surprised. She closed her eyes and bent slightly. I watched her roll to the side right before marks ofceration appeared on the spot where she stood.

    <em>She has rehearsed this fight for half of her life</em>, I realized while leaving ire behind a pile of rubble, away from the mes and fighting. <em>Mersie had seen Chastel in action before and learned her lesson</em>.

    Unfortunately, she wasn''t facing one opponent. Florence removed the dagger stuck in her mask, her shattered ss goggle revealed red blood dripping on her exposed, hateful eye.

    I closed the gap between us before she could assist Chastel, my dagger so hot it hurt to wield it. She dodged a lethal blow, but my de still carved a line across her chest. I cut through leather before feeling the resistance of metal underneath.

    Why would a demon wear armor?

    As I dodged a burst of yellow mes, I realized that at no point did Florence transform into a monster. The fact she felt the need to wear equipment to protect herself from her own chemicals in close quarters could only mean one thing.

    "You''re no demon," I whispered, confirming my earlier suspicions. "You''re a werewolf. The kind that can pass for a human."

    I heard Florence shrug behind her mask. "Does it matter?"

    <em>A great deal, yes</em>. I wonder why a demon would follow a mere mortal.

    I heard Chastelugh behind me. There is nothing <em>mere </em>about Mdy.

    I turned my head to see empty air behind me. I still stepped to the right on instinct, a reaction that saved my life. Invisible wsshed at the metal te covering my chest and prated deep enough to reach the clothes underneath.

    Dont you see the beauty of her soul? Chastel asked me, his grin briefly bing visible amidst the smoke. The frightful rage born of sorrow? It <em>fascinates </em>me.

    Florence appeared to flinch for a brief instant, before attempting to nk the Assassin with a burst of mes. Mersie acted quicker and threw another knife at her. Florence saw iting this time and the twodies swiftly started exchanging projectiles.

    I cannot muster the strength to hate anyone Chastel continued to ramble. I kept backing off, sensing his approach but unable to ascertain his position. Come to think of it, I do not care much for anything. But Mdy

    <em>Keep rambling</em>, I thought while focusing on Chastels voice. <em>It will be the end of you.</em>

    I heard a chuckle to my left. She inspires me to do my very best.

    I sensed ws surging through the air. I swung my dagger in their rough direction, my de cutting through something I couldnt pierce. Phantom fingers closed on my arms armored protection, tearing off steel and leather alike. Another visible w grazed my cheek deep enough to draw blood. Chastel might have gutted me had he been any closer.

    Mersie wasnt having any more luck. Florence had summoned a wall of me around herself to keep the Assassin at bay, and though her apothecary equipment had taken hits, none of them threatened herbat effectiveness.

    Those mes wont protect you forever, Mersie taunted Florence. She paced around the fire, trying to find an opening.

    I do not fear a thief, Florence replied with contempt. She waved her hands, manipting the essence in the air the way only an experienced witchcrafter could. You vassal heroes should never have existed.

    To Mersies astonishment, Florences essence caused the wall of fire to advance toward her foe. It was quite the feat of witchcrafting; I could hardly channel the poison from the berserk gas into my dagger, but Florence managed to alter an elemental force of nature without the help of runestones or a heros mark. Only those who had undergone the Second Awakening and extensive training could achieve a simr feat.

    My ex-lover deftly backflippedMersie had always been quite <em>flexible</em>closer to me. Before we knew it, we were fighting back-to-back, nked from both sides by an invisible demon and a wall of fire.

    Theyre tough, Mersie conceded. Any suggestions, Robin?

    Lets take out one and then the other, I replied. It would be so much easier once one of them bit the dust. Florence is no demon, so your power should work on her. It will lure Chastel to you.

    Mersie nodded in confirmation. We separated to avoid a fireball thrown at us and immediately moved on to attack Florence by nking her from two sides. We ran around her wall of fire, forcing Florence to split her attention.

    Mersie stopped midway through her course to throw a knife at empty air. It appeared Chastel had chosen to focus on her over me after deeming the Assassin a greater danger to his mistress. Worse, it appeared Florence shared her associates opinion.

    Your mark is not meant for battle, Robin, Florence chastised me while channeling fire through her gas masks filter. What do you hope to aplish here?

    I admit Im morefortable counting coins than dueling an experienced mage like yourself, I confessed while closing the gap between us. Still, what kind of hero sits around while his city threatens to burn?

    Florence weed me with a st of searing mes. Yet no matter how much she tried to mimic a dragon, shecked their power. I had no issues running circles around her, waiting for her to need to catch her breath.

    Your ss is fake, Robin, Florence ranted, each word carrying berserk fire. A counterfeit. A pale imitation of the Goddess true gift; shackled and restrained. Do you truly believe the likes of the Alchemist and the Artisan exist to support you, Robin? Quite the contrary. Their sses dilute <em>yours</em>.

    While I focused on the fight first and foremost, I did listen to her words. The memory I had glimpsed through my mark shed back into my mind: that of people turned to gold at a tyrants mercy. That would be a gross abuse of the Alchemists power, twisted and wrong.

    Now it is up to us to continue the holy work, Florence dered. She finally stopped to catch her breath, offering me an opening. To purify this sinful world in the name of its true inheritors.

    Is <em>that </em>what it is all about? I pointed my dagger at her mask. Youll tear apart this kingdom so your followers and the northern beastmen can take it for themselves?"

    They deserve thisnd more than its current inhabitants for certain, Florence replied with contempt, while struggling to dodge my dagger stabs. Since her chest was protected, I started aiming for the neck. What did humans do with this kingdom other than stain it with blood? Greed, cupidity, and bigotry are the order of the day in Archfrost.

    She joined her hands and widened them into a wall of me. I had no choice but to take a step back and run around it to avoid being charbroiled. I nced towards Mersie and found that neither of us made any progress. Mersie threw knives at thin air and moved away to avoid invisible blows. Her hearing had to be incredibly sharp to sense Chastels blowsing through this chaos.

    "Have we met before, dear Assassin? Chastel''s voice echoed around the za. You seem to havee prepared."

    I noticed Mersies hands tightening their grip on her weapons. Does the name Salvadoreen mean anything to you?

    Ah, yes, yes, you mean that party in Goldport? Such a posh gathering, the guests were so magnificently dressed. Chastels shape briefly became visible through the smoke. While his camouge was perfect, he remained a physical creature discing dust in his wake. Especially the lord of the house. I loved his leathered boots so much I bought another set for myself.

    The taunt no, scratch that. I knew taunts, breathed them even. This wasnt a taunt, or even an act of malice. I could tell that from Chastels nonchnt tone. The monster had ughtered so many innocents they had all started to blur together.

    The <em>one </em>detail Chastel remembered from massacring Mersies entire family was how he liked her fathers boots.

    Obviously, Mersie didnt take it well. She suddenly traced a thin line along her arm with a snarl, drawing blood, before throwing the knife at Chastel. The demon caught it in midair before it could hit his head off course and stained his own fingers with Mersies blood. The stain floated in the air, marking the demons position.

    Oh, I see, Chastel noted. His attempts to rub the fluid off his hand only caused it to spread further. The traces were faint, but enough to help Mersie identify her foes current location. Clever, clever.

    I would have congratted Mersie on her quick thinking if I wasnt too busy avoiding bursts of fire aimed at my head. What Florencecked in aim andbat training, she more than made up for in power and fury. She lit up braziers and seared the cobblestones around us with utter disregard for her own safety. Her gloves had long turned to ash, revealing hands stained with burns.

    You think serving Belgoroth will bring you anything but pain, Florence?! I managed to get close enough for a swing at her throat, ripping out the leather protecting it and leaving her neck exposed. Not deep enough to sh the flesh below though. I saw him when the Blight manifested. Hes fury incarnate. Hell kill and kill, until there''s no one left to kill.

    <em>Good</em>, Florence replied coldly.

    Her response caught me off-guard, which nearly cost me my life. Florences fiery left hand lunged for my face, intent on melting my skull. I barely managed to stab her palm before it could reach me, the sheer heat causing my gloves to catch fire. Her other hand immediately tried to unleash a burst of mes in close quarters, but I managed to grab her arm and force it up, causing her fireball to go flying above our heads.

    Yet Florence kept pushing me, trying to get her hands close enough to my head tond a killing blow. I was stronger than her, but it was hard to maintain a grip when her uniform was half aze! My skin burned beneath my gloves.

    All Lord Belgoroth does is strip away the <em>lie</em>, Florence hissed with maddened eyes. Youre a bright child, Robin. Youve seen the real face of humanity, the savagery festering under the slum-infested cities and pretty castles!

    Yes, I have I gritted my teeth while trying to push her back. I channeled whatever essence I could into my dagger. Its why Im cutting it out rather than letting it fester like you do!

    Your efforts are for naught, Robin! You may be able to sell and buy anything, but you will never change human nature! I saw mes build up within Florences filter. Curses, she intended to breathe fire in my face. You were meant to help us, not fight

    Florence froze, her head snapped to the side. She had sensed a presence closing in.

    Colmars headless corpse had silently risen behind her.

    There was no bone to support his apothecary apparatus, no blood pumping out of his severed neck, no flesh underneath the leather and steel. Only dust and a gaping emptiness previously hidden from the world.

    <em>Its one thing to expect it</em>, I thought, only half-surprised<em>, and another to see it</em>.

    What Florence managed to say before Colmars hands mmed against her apothecary outfit. My friends magic traveled through her clothes, turning leather into cold stone. I removed my searing dagger from her hand as she found herself trapped within her own uniform.

    Florence raged and screamed, but her mes could not melt stone. She was trapped inside her own unmoving apparatus.

    Robin!

    Mersies warning caused me to turn around just in time to see a floating red spot of blood rushing at me. Chastel, realizing his mistress was now in danger, had abandoned Mersie to rescue her. My friend raced after him, but the demon was quicker.

    I only had seconds before Chastel reached us, so I put them to use.

    Remembering what happened when I stabbed the werewolf earlier, I infused my already unstable dagger with the nefarious essence suffusing Florences gas. Cruel poison and wrath seeped into my weapon. I grit my teeth as I struggled against the pain of holding it.

    Get down! I shouted at everyone, Mersie first and foremost.

    I threw my dagger.

    I wasnt as good a shot as Mersie, but the bloodstain on Chastels hands made for the perfect target. The de sang as it raced through the air before ending its course in the middle of the za. I heard it hit somethingone of Chastels hands, or hopefully his headand then a sh of bright light followed.

    The weapon exploded in a mighty burst of berserk me.

    The st threw me back among the dust and the ashes, tossed Florence onto her back, and caused Colmars remains to stumble. Mersie managed to rush to the ground upon hearing my warning.

    As for Chastel, the st tore him apart.

    The demon became visible again upon destruction, so I saw all the grisly details. A hundred charred hands flew in countless directions amidst a rain of burned blood. Chastels head was severed from the cloak of fur that made up his body and tumbled among the ashes.

    Is I coughed smoke and ashes, my ears hurting. I heard a buzzing sound echoing in the back of my head. Is everyone alright?

    I am, Mersie replied while rising back to her feet. How did you how did you do that?

    I improvised, I replied before moving to check on Colmar. The apothecarys decapitated remains stood still next to his own severed head. Are you in there?

    I am well. Colmars voice came from his severed head, which his body picked up under one arm. The sight sent shivers down my spine. It was as if he had done it before. What about Florence?

    It said something about Colmar that appeared more concerned for his enemys health than his own. Nheless, I moved to check on Florence anyway. She was still trapped inside her petrified costume, raging against her prison and yet unable to escape it. sting her way out meant suffering from a deadly recoil.

    <em>Good, shes still alive</em>, I thought. We couldnt interrogate the dead after all.

    My, my, a familiar, wheezing voice said, this is quite the pickle

    Speaking of the dead, I nced at Chastels remains, utterly gobsmacked.

    The demons severed heady near his petrified mistress, the left half torched enough to reveal gilded bones under his fur. Chastel was missing everything beneath the jaw, including lungs, and yet I heard him breathe. His vicious little eyes nced at his own bloody remains with the same eerie nonchnce he had shown us time and time again.

    <em>Hes still alive</em>. I could scarcely believe it. The st had torn him apart, and yet Chastels soulless spirit lingered in this world. <em>But not for long.</em>

    If his wounds didnt im Chastels life soon, Mersie would. She grabbed the demon by the ears with a furious look, a knife in hand.

    Even so, Chastel showed no fear in the face of death. He utterly ignored Mersie and instead red at Colmar, who had switched to extinguishing the fires by turning stones and rubble to ice.

    "My, my, and the priests call <em>us </em>abominations," Chastel mused. How he could speak without lungs was beyond me; though I could say the same for Colmar. "The cauldron calling the kettle ck I suppose."

    Except Colmar worked tirelessly to save lives while Chastel dedicated his existence to taking them. Quite the difference.

    Mersie forced Chastel to look at her. Her beauty was twisted in an expression of cold rage. "You don''t remember me at all."

    I do my hearts best to remember all my victims, but no, I do not remember you, Chastel replied. I am truly sorry.

    The creepiest part was that he almost sounded sincere.

    Fifteen years ago, you and your acolytes broke into my familys home. Mersie raised her knife up to Chastels remaining eye. There was a blonde girl, five years old. You thought she was me. She applied the de to the eyelid. So you tore her apart.

    She stabbed Chastel in the left eye.

    Though I held no love for the fiend, I winced a bit at the sight. ckened blood poured out of Chastels skull and dripped down his burned cheek. Another man might have tried to stop her, but I had spent years plotting vengeance against Sforza. Some people deserved to die for the good of everyone else.

    You tore her apart with your filthy ws, Mersie hissed, her voice dripping with fifteen years worth of venom and hatefulness. A child of five. Sarah. My friend. You <em>murdered </em>her.

    Chastel didnt scream as she twisted the de.

    He didntugh, or whine, or beg, or react. His remaining eye stared at Mersie while the other bled, unblinking, amused.

    Mersies jaw clenched in fury. The demon appeared determined to deny her any catharsis in his final moments.

    You murdered her while your acolytes killed my father and mother, she spat at the fiend.

    I am sorry, my fairdy, Chastel apologized with all the sweetness of rancid butter. I shouldnt have separated you from your family. If I could, I would send you to join them this very instant.

    No, you wont. But before you go to whatever hell your pact with the Devil of Greed condemned you, you will tell where to find yourst acolyte. Mersie moved her de to his other eye. Ive managed to track down everyone present that night over the years. Everyst one of you beasts. All except one."

    She started tracing a line around the remaining eye with her knife.

    "One-eyed, Mersie said, her voice colder than ice. White-haired. Knife thrower."

    "Ah, Chronius?" Chastel chuckled, unimpressed by the threats. It does not surprise me. Hes retired, you know? He exchanged his weapons for tools and blood for a farm.

    I scoffed. One does not <em>retire </em>from your kind of organization.

    They do, if they agree to keep their mouths shut, Chastel replied calmly. Yes, we let the old chap go. But weve kept an eye on him since.

    Mersie pushed her knife against Chastels head, <em>emphasizing </em>each word of her question. Where. Is. <em>He</em>?

    Youll find him in Wisepeak, my fairdy, if youre so eager to die, Chastel taunted her. Chronius is a better killer than I am. Truly a master of his craft. Hes not the kind of de that rusts with time.

    Wisepeak? I struggled to believe it. Wisepeak was a center of learning in Erebia, infamous for, among other things, hosting the Inquisitions training grounds. I could hardly imagine why a former cultist would start a new life there.

    <em>Except, perhaps, to make sure his old associates would think twice about pursuing him</em>, I figured. <em>Interesting I wonder whats the story behind it.</em>

    Good. Mersie dropped Chastels head onto the ground. And now you will die.

    I sense much anger in your heart, young woman. Chastel chuckled. You would have made a good member of the Knots

    Mersie stomped his skull under her foot, shattering it. Red mist consumed Chastels remains, until only a familiar, ghastly coin remained. I seized it and put it in my pocket. Eris would appreciate the gift.

    As for Mersie she stared at the horizon with a hollow expression. Only now that Colmar had extinguished the mes did I realize the northern tower was gone. Smoke rose where it once stood. Had Rnd cast the whole ce down to extinguish its pyre?

    Wisepeak, Mersie muttered to herself. Her hand yed with her knife; flipping it up and down as if she imagined throwing it on a moments notice. Wisepeak. Hes in Wisepeak.

    The mad glint in her eyes worried me. I had seen it before when west met at my home, when she recounted the ughter she had witnessed in her childhood. It was the same rage that animated Florence.

    Mersie? I asked, my voice hardly carrying over the wind. She turned to face me, smiling sadly. Did it give you satisfaction?

    Yes, she answered without hesitation.

    She probably meant it, or at least <em>desired </em>for it to be true. I had no room to judge her, but somehow I had the gut feeling her suffering had only begun. It bothered me.

    Now was not the time to discuss this, however. We still needed to restrain Florence and treat ires wounds. Colmar had moved on to do thetter after affixing his head to his shoulders. When I found him applying bandages to ires arms, a thin line surrounded his neck. From what I could gather, he had used his power to glue back his severed mask the best he could.

    Colmar looked up when he sensed me approaching. Our eyes met, mine made of living matter and his of ss. I had seen nothing other than dust inside his head. Dust and memories.

    <em>Hes old</em>, I thought. <em>For even his bones to have dposed he has been walking the earth for at least a century.</em>

    You knew, Colmar said. It wasnt a question, but a statement. He sounded a little relieved that I hadnt rejected him outright.

    I suspected it, I replied calmly. How did it happen?

    Though Colmar did not breathe, he made a whizzing sound while tightening ires bandages. I told you, Robin, he said grimly. There was once an apothecary who thought he could save everyone from the gue until one day he realized everyone was dead.

    Colmar looked at the corpses on the za. Most were our enemies, yet they would haunt him all the same.

    Even himself, he whispered.

 Chapter Eighteen: Interlude: The Alchemist

    Chapter Eighteen: Interlude: The Alchemist<blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Merchday, Earthmoon 58th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Timberkeep, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Among the apothecaries of the Arcadian Freeholds, it is customary to record ones discoveries in a journal for safekeeping. When I told my tutor, Lord Johannes, that I never forgot anything, he insisted that I keep up with the tradition as part of my apprenticeship.</em>

    <em>Only fools write books for themselves, Colmar, he scolded me as if I were a child. The wise write for the world.</em>

    <em>Henceforth, let it be known to future generations that I, Colmar the Wingless, consider this exercise aplete waste of my valuable time. Time that I could better spend helping to do practical research that will help us progress medicine today, rather than enlighten imaginary future dimwits.</em>

    <em>To help the small minds that will read these linesa prospect that I do not find enticing in the slightestI shall endeavor to organize these entries by date and location. That way, any moron with a mapif youre reading these lines, then yes, I am describing </em><em><strong>you</strong></em><em>will be able to retrace my steps.</em>

    <em>My steps. The very word fills me with fury.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Rogueday, Earthmoon 59th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Timberkeep, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>I have convinced Lord Johannes to let me write one entry per week rather than once per day. With time, I hope to lower that number to one per month, and then only on special asions, and then never.</em>

    <em>We operated on a man today. Fifty-four, nobleborn. A tumor had grown in his prejudice-dulled brain and caused shaking in his legs. Carving his skull open and extracting the putrid mass spreading its roots into his cerebellum proved less bothersome than the two hours Lord Johannes spent convincing him to let me participate. It astonishes me how many humans refuse to be treated by my kind even on deaths threshold.</em>

    <em>Ah, yes. Have I forgotten to mention that I have feathers?</em>

    <em>Unlike the butterfly-winged monarchs and my harpy cousins, whose fair faces make men forget their feathers, I cannot pass for human. My mouth is a beak, my skin is covered in ck feathers, and my eyes are white as milk. There is no ce for me among menfolk, nor among my own kin, for my wings are too weak to carry me.</em>

    <em>It doesnt bother me.</em>

    <em>It doesnt bother me at all.</em>

    <em>In any case, it was a fascinating operation. I had long wondered which part of the brain managed control of a humanoids lower limbs, and autopsying corpses only helped narrow down the possibilities. This operation confirmed the cerebellum holds sway over most motor controls.</em>

    <em>I asked Lord Johannes if we could perhaps transnt the tumor into another part of the fools cortex and observe the effects. For researchs sake.</em>

    <em>I was denied.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Rogueday, Earthmoon 66th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: some dirty human inn on the road to Heros Rest.</em>

    <em>Lord Johannes received a letter from a colleague in Heros Rest. Lorimor, I think his name was. From what I gathered, he requires Lord Johannes expertise with a patient in critical condition. I argued that we have enough work here in Timberkeep, but Lord Johannes insisted.</em>

    <em>Sometimes, I wonder why I took this apprenticeship. For all of his immense knowledge and intuition, Lord Johannes is easily distracted. Whenever he hears of a strange or odd case, he bes like a bear chasing after a whiff of honey. Whereas I can spend days in ab engrossed in research, he feels an almost pathological need to meet with other creatures of flesh and blood. It baffles me. What neurosispels humans to waste time talking and drinking? Its maddening.</em>

    <em>In spite of our differences, we do work well together. We share the same goal, he and I.</em>

    <em>We both pursue immortality.</em>

    <em>Where most mortals see death as a part of lifethe small minds attempt to rationalize tragedywe see a disease to ovee. Lord Johannes thinks the key to conquering death is to rece defective and aging organs with artifice. He is a son of the Arcane Abbey, who worship the Goddess tools and see craftsmanship as a holy duty.</em>

    <em>While his approach holds promise, I believe nature already offers us all the tools we need. Wild hydras can regrow heads, do they not, and dragons eternally grow until in. Studying and replicating what already urs in the animal world seems promising to me.</em>

    <em>We both agree on one thing, however: the body is a defective machine in dire need of refurbishing.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Barday, Earthmoon 67th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>I know I promised myself that I would only write one entry a week, but I believe todays events warrant an exception.</em>

    <em>As it turns out, Lorimor is a ratkin. The leader of Heros Rest warren.</em>

    <em>The Arcadian Freeholds are more weing of beastmen than any other human country in Pangeal, except perhaps the Stonndsand thats not saying much. We are epted in their cities so long as we keep to ourselves in ghettos and away from public eyes, make a show out of supporting the Arcane Abbey, and stick to the dirtiest and least attractive jobs avable. The ratmen have it the worst. Their warren are watched with suspicion and most cannot find work. And humans wonder why so many of them turn to banditry or demon cults for sce.</em>

    <em>Lord Johannes, however, is an enlightened man (he has taken me as his apprentice, after all) and above such petty prejudice. It doesnt surprise me that he would be friends with a ratkin. One of Lorimors charges had been in aa after an encounter with an underground monster; since the patient suffers from acidic burns, it was probably a slime.</em>

    <em>Its an unusual case, but not too surprising. Slimes are naturally attuned to local essence and easily absorb its properties. More often than not it makes them nuisances, but this one had apparently assimted the properties of various poisonous animals.</em>

    <em>What surprises me is that a slime showed up in Heros Rest. Slimes usually build nests inrge cities sewers, where they feed on filth, or Blights. Heros Rest is about theplete opposite: the vige has barely eight hundred inhabitants, fifty of them being ratkin, with no sewage to speak of. Very strange.</em>

    <em>In any case, Lorimor asked if the two of us could save hisd.</em>

    <em>I replied that we were overqualified.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Priestday, Earthmoon 69th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Once again I must vite my vow ofziness. How deeply annoying. Still, todays discovery deserves to be recorded.</em>

    <em>You must wonder whether we saved our patient.</em>

    <em>If so, you are an ignorant twit who hasnt been paying attention. Of course we saved him. How could we not? Lord Johannes and I are the best apothecaries in the world.</em>

    <em>If you want details, we purged the body of toxins with a steadybination of alchemical concoctions and blood purification. Lord Johannes invented an ingenious contraption that pumps a patients blood out of their body, filters it, and then sends it back. He calls it the hemocycler.</em>

    <em>If you have let out a sigh, then that is good. You still possess all your mental faculties.</em>

    <em>A good day of this cycling treatment and our patient woke up again, to Lorrimors delight. As per apothecary procedures, we thoroughly interrogated him to determine the cause of hisa. His tale proved fascinating.</em>

    <em>Our patient (a skittish fellow named Fein) confirmed having been attacked by a poisonous slime in the tunnels under his warren. He confessed to having identally stumbled into an underground cavity while trying to expand his familys living space; a ce he described as an underground garden full of strange purple flowers that do not match any botanical description Im aware of. The slime attacked him while he was exploring the area, and he barely managed to flee all the way back to the surface.</em>

    <em>Now if that tale appears oundish to you (flowers do not grow underground) then rest assured, Lord Johannes and I agreed that our patient hallucinated the entire experience. Still, we decided to explore the cavity, if only to capture the slime for study. Lorrimor guided us through his warrens tunnels deep beneath the earth until we reached the suspected site.</em>

    <em>And as it turns out</em>

    <em>There are flowers growing under Heros Rest.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Knightday, Earthmoon 70th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Our meeting with Heros Rest overseer, Lord Fouket, started well. He not only gave us permission to study the Underground Garden (as the ratkin havee to call it), but also offered to host us until wepleted our task. He even proposed that we use his castles dungeon if we wished to work in peace.</em>

    <em>All I request in return is that you treat my citizens, Lord Fouket told us oh so graciously. Heros Rest hasnt had a proper apothecary in years. My peasants still rely on herbal remedies. I would like you to treat them as professionals.</em>

    <em>Beastmen included? I asked him sharply.</em>

    <em>The condescending smile that followed I knew it all too well. Yes, he answered with the voice of someone who did not like being reminded of his obligations. Yes. of course. </em><em><strong>All </strong></em><em>my subjects deserve equal treatment.</em>

    <em>I have the feeling that if we ever find ourselves with one potion left and two patients on deaths door, a human on one side and a ratkin on the other, one of the two would receive clear preference.</em>

    <em>But who cares? I could suffer hidden disdain and hypocrisy for the sake of science. The discovery under Heros Rest could change a great many things for apothecaries. It is well known that nts require sunlight to grow and thrive. To find a species that could thrive underground challenged that assumption.</em>

    <em>Lord Johannes feels the same way I do. Studying these nts will take us closer to understanding the nature of life, and through it death.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Mageday, Earthmoon 71rst.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>A human child is stalking me.</em>

    <em>I was on my way out of the castle when I noticed her. A small, scrawny human monkey with muddy hair, so thin I could see the bones beneath her skin. No older than ten. She followed me all the way to the warren before scampering off.</em>

    <em>I didnt think much of it at first. Most peasants in this region probably havent seen a birdkin in their life. She was simply curious.</em>

    <em>But when I exited the ratkin warren with sks full of petals and flower samples, there she was, staring at me from behind a tree. She followed us all the way to the castle, that nosy dwarf spy!</em>

    <em>Ugh, I should have thrown feathers at her. I hated being followed. It makes me feel hunted.</em>

    <em>Whatever. Exploration of the Underground Garden is underway. Weve gathered flower samples and we discovered new tunnels leading under the cavity. We might have found a secret ecosystem untouched by mortalkind.</em>

    <em>No sign of the slime though.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Barday, Earthmoon 74th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>This adventure keeps raising more questions than answers.</em>

    <em>We finally captured the slime responsible for Feins injuries. The creature (which turned out to be about the size of a small puddle) attempted to ambush Lord Johannes while we went foraging for samples. We trapped it in a jar for its trouble and are currently examining it in our newboratory. The creature is packing more toxins than a poisoners workshop. Frankly, its a miracle Fein survived long enough for us to treat him.</em>

    <em>Study of the purple flowers continues to yield fascinating results. Their wide petal arrangement reminds me of the feared Arcadian Maneaterone of the most dreaded vegetal monsters in the westbut the absence of dental implements indicates they do not feed on flesh. Which begs the question, where do they draw their energy from? As any botanist worth their salt can tell, even carnivorous nts receive most of their energy from photosynthesis. Their petals do seem to possess venomous properties for protection. I suppose we know where the slime absorbed its toxic essence from.</em>

    <em>The more we and the ratkin explore the underground tunnels, the more Lorrimor is convinced the cavity did not form naturally. He presented us with carvings his team has found in the tunnels: a symbol showcasing five animal heads forming a circle. Considering the resemnce with the Rangers mark, this ce might have been a forgotten heros secret sanctuary.</em>

    <em>If true, the irony isnt lost on me. Heros Rest earned its name because Arcadias founder, Arcados the Green Knight, retired there to live his final days in peace. The man had never crowned himself king, yet his tomb wees more pilgrims each year than many emperors.</em>

    <em>The child follows me whenever I leave the castle. Whether I go visit patients in Heros Rest with Lord Johannes or go to the warren, she is always there, following me. How annoying. I tried to ignore it, but this is starting to affect my peace of mind.</em>

    <em>Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will throw feathers at her silly face.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Merchday, Earthmoon 75th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>I did not, in fact, throw feathers at her.</em>

    <em>I captured the child on my way out of the castle, extracting her name (Liliane) and upation (farmers daughter; I wonder why I expected anything else). When I asked her why she kept following me around, she looked up at me with big green eyes.</em>

    <em>Can I ruffle your feathers? she asked me.</em>

    <em>Now, I wish to rify things here.</em>

    <em>While I obliged her, I only did so to make her stop stalking me. Nothing else. I had no other motives.</em>

    <em>And it failed. Now that she had found the courage to touch, she started pestering me with questions. How do you heal people? Can those herbs make Dad nicer to Mom? Do you cut legs often? Can I help you?</em>

    <em>The more answers I provided, the more curious she became. Eventually, I grew so fed up that I devised an ingenious solution: I described a few random herbs and told her that if she wanted to help me, she should gather them for me. The little hellion scampered off immediately.</em>

    <em>There, that should keep her off my talons.</em>

    <em>In any case, exploration of the Underground Garden has encountered an obstacle. The deeper tunnels are choked with dust and the concentration of flowers fills the air with poisonous pollen. I am currently working on a countermeasure. A mask that should filter out the worst of it.</em>

    <em>Otherwise, we treated a few cases of dysentery. Little to worry about. We also presented the strange symbol to Lord Foukets personal priest, who sent it by messenger bird to his superiors in Timberkeep. The Arcane Abbeys archivists should have a field day uncovering its significance.</em>

    <em>All in all, things are proceeding well.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Rangerday, Earthmoon 76th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Liliane returned with all the herbs I ordered her to find, and flowers. When I asked why she brought me purgeleaves, she answered that she had seen a sick deer eat them and thought they could cure diseases. Purgeleaves are tasty too, she added.</em>

    <em>I was impressed (though not by the tasty part). A simr observation in my youth was what led me down the path of the apothecary. This girl might possess a keener mind than I expected. She asked me if she could watch me work. Against my better judgment, I agreed to let her into theb so long as she didnt break anything and did as I said.</em>

    <em>Have you recruited a new assistant, apprentice? Lord Johannes asked me with an unbearable smile.</em>

    <em>I snubbed him all afternoon, though he wasnt far off the mark. Liliane proved to be a boon. She doesnt say a word unless spoken to first, and neverins when I send her to fetch me tools and chemicals.</em>

    <em>I might keep her around.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Priestday, Earthmoon 77th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>I must report a strange case weve uncovered today.</em>

    <em>A washerwoman came to us for treatment. She started coughing for two days and didnt think much of it (flus are hardly unusual in the harvest season) until she noticed purple spots growing on her skin. She had the good sense toe to us for treatment.</em>

    <em>Her symptoms are quite unusual: blood swelling, fatigue, a cough, and minor dehydration. Lord Johannes wonders if another slime is on the loose, but we found no trace of a foreign contaminant in her blood. She shows none of the toxins Fein suffered from. She had no direct contact with the ratkin either, so we can probably exclude a corrtion between these two cases.</em>

    <em>For now, weve decided to keep her in observation in the dungeons until we can find more. We have given her a steady diet of potions and water to fight off the dehydration. If the blood swelling worsens, we will have to hook her to the hemocycler. We asked her husband to remain at home with his children for the time being and to refuse visitors, in case whatever this woman caught proved contagious. Liliane will deliver medicine to their door in the following days.</em>

    <em>Better safe than sorry.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Knightday, Earthmoon 78th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>The Arcane Abbey sent an answer by messenger bird. The terms are clear and strict: an inquisition squad has been sent to Heros Rest, and we are to stop all exploration of the Underground Garden until they arrive. The site we uncovered might be linked to heretical activities. Lord Johannesughed upon reading that missive; I did not. Once again, these fanatics see demons behind every discovery.</em>

    <em>Still, none of us have any desire to end our life on a pyre, so Lorrimor closed ess to the tunnels until further notice. We have enough work on our hands anyway studying the flowers we extracted (which Lord Johannes named nightseeds for their ability to grow without the light of day). Constant experimentation has shown us that they require little to no sustenance. Water, sunlight, nutrients as far as we can tell, they can survive without any of those.</em>

    <em>I can hardly contain my excitement! We might have discovered the first case of biological immortality in the wild! Lord Johannes is more cautious, but hes more enthusiastic than Ive ever seen him.</em>

    <em>I wish I could say the same for our patient. The womans symptoms kept worsening, so we intensified the doses we gave her and hooked her to the hemocycler for regr treatments. Liliane volunteered for the task. She is a brave girl.</em>

    <em>If only she could stop chewing purgeleaves. Its annoying.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Mageday, Earthmoon 79th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>We are losing the patient.</em>

    <em>She is hardly conscious now, and Lord Johannes fears she will soon fall into aa from which she will not wake up. Her arms have turned purple and she can no longer move her legs.</em>

    <em>This is unthinkable. I, Colmar, do </em><em><strong>not </strong></em><em>lose patients. No one who has evere into my care perished to protest otherwise. So long as the patient breathes, the battle is not done. Thats what I always say. This battle goes on.</em>

    <em>But what are we fighting? We triple-checked the blood samples and we found nothing. </em><em><strong>Nothing</strong></em><em>. The blood is the vessel of all diseases. This is one of the cardinal rules of medicine. So why cant we see anything?</em>

    <em>We are running out of time. Lord Johannes decided that we would amputate the arms to slow down the infection, since they show the most purple patches. The woman was under the influence of so many painkillers that she hardly wept through the process. Lord Johannes promised to develop a set of prostheses for her while he held the bonede. Im not sure she believed him.</em>

    <em>I sent Liliane to check on the patients family before the operation (and to spare her the sight). They are holed up in their farm and show no symptoms. That''s a relief. Whatever our patient suffers from, it does not appear to be contagious.</em>

    <em>If all else fails, I have suggested to Lord Johannes that we test an experimental serum based on the nightseeds. While these nts petals carry toxins, their sap might carry whatever chemical agent that lets them sustain themselves. While it is unlikely to save the patient if all else fails, we might as well try.</em>

    <em>Lord Johannes is obviously uneasy at the idea of testing medicine developed from a newly discovered nt on a patient on deaths door and vetoed my n. For now. If the patients vital signs keep growing dire, he is likely to change his mind.</em></blockquote>

    The next page was caked with dry blood and stained with purple powder. <blockquote>

    <em>We. we tried my serum.</em>

    <em>It went poorly.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Merchday, Earthmoon 80th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>The patient is gone. Not dead (not </em><em><strong>dead</strong></em><em>). But gone.</em>

    <em>We had to chain her </em><em><strong>it </strong></em><em>in the dungeons deepest cell. I forbade Liliane to approach it. This disaster already cost Lord Johannes an eye. At least now we understand what the nightseeds are.</em>

    <em>Our mistake was to believe they were alive at all.</em>

    <em>I should I should have seen iting. Its obvious, in retrospect. What could survive years, centuries underground without food or water? Nothing. Nothing at all. The nts died long ago. They simply carried on anyway.</em>

    <em>Like our patient.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Rogueday, Earthmoon 81st.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Out of nowhere, the houses are full of sick men and women.</em>

    <em>Fifteen people across Heros Rest show purple spots on their skin, alongside early symptoms. The patients family (who still knows nothing of what we did) is among them.</em>

    <em>It is contagious.</em>

    <em>A Purple gue.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Barday, Earthmoon 82nd.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>The dungeons are crowded with patients. Thankfully, we have enough space for them all. For now.</em>

    <em>We reassured Lord Fouket we were working on a solution and that our initial patient hasnt died yet (which is technically true, in the loosest sense of the word). Many in town believed us. Others did not. Im sure a few are already preparing to flee to other towns. We suggested that Lord Fouket order a curfew until we could resolve the situation, a piece of advice he thankfully followed. That should slow down the infection for a time.</em>

    <em>We are nowhere near close to understanding the method of transmission; doubly so since some of the victims never had direct contact with our first patients family. We noted that the disease only appears to target humans, however. None of the ratkin show any symptoms so far.</em>

    <em>This discovery does not providefort. Lord Johannes and I spent days in an underground dungeon with a patient showing advanced symptoms. Its only a matter of time before my mentor catches the disease. I worry for Liliane too.</em>

    <em>Considering the gravity of the situation Weve decided to put down the abomination we have created and to autopsy the remains. This should offer us more insight into the gue.</em>

    <em>For the first time in my life, I have failed a patient.</em>

    <em>I can only hope this loss will help save dozens.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Rangerday, Earthmoon 83rd.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>The autopsy isplete. As expected, the heart and brain started undergoing necrosis days ago. The patient was long gone.</em>

    <em>As I am confronted with death itself, my thoughts wander back to that fateful day when I first tried to take flight. My siblings had all left the nest sessfully, but when I tried to fly away as well my wings failed to support me. I crashed and nearly perished. I still remember that icy grasp tightening around my heart as I fell down, that dread that preceded the impact. I have lived in fear of it since.</em>

    <em>As the years went by and neither of my wings grew, my nest gave up on seeing me fly. I kept wondering why me? What quirk of nature caused me to be born defective? Our elders kept telling me the Goddess chose to imbue me with intelligence rather than flight; but why couldnt she give me both? None of the elders could offer me a logical reason.</em>

    <em>The Arcane Abbey tells us that the Goddess work is imperfect and that she left on a long journey to perfect her craft. One day she would return to judge what mortals aplished and reform Pangeal into a paradise. Priests have waited seven hundred years for it; I will not. I swore I would perfect mortalkind through my work.</em>

    <em>One day, I will fly. I will never die. And when the Goddess at longst returns from her journey, I shall be there to greet and shame her. For there is nothing that is beyond my ability to ovee. Not the frailties of my flesh, not this gue, not even death.</em>

    <em>The progress weve made tonight only solidified my resolve. The autopsy revealed that the patients lungs turnedpletely purple, suggesting that the disease subverted them early in the infection process.</em>

    <em>Breathing.</em>

    <em>Breathing makes the most sense as a vector. Our patient was a washerwoman. It is probable that she unknowingly transmitted the disease to her clients while discussing with them. Since the incubation period appears tost days and Heros Rest folks regrly gather for church sermons or harvest feasts, I suspect arge percentage of the poption is already infected.</em>

    <em>In light of this discovery, Lord Johannes developed a hypothesis as to the diseases nature; namely, that this gue does not infect the flesh, but the essence. This would exin the absence of contaminants within the victims blood. The gue does not infect its victims.</em>

    <em>It changes them.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Priestday, Earthmoon 84th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Today today is not a good day.</em>

    <em>The number of victims is growing exponentially. A tenth of the viges poption has grown purple spots on their skin and a fifth shows lesser symptoms. Lord Johannes is among that number.</em>

    <em>We have not lost anyone yet (except our initial patient) but three of our patients are now in critical condition. The prognosis is growing increasingly dire.</em>

    <em>Since the disease is airborne, I have started wearing my filtering apparatus at all times and designed another set for Lilianes use. She remains unaffected by the gue so far. A small miracle considering the time she spent among the sick. Her presence soothes our patients.</em>

    <em>The essence infection hypothesis has now been confirmed, alongside other unsettling discoveries. We have found an ingenious way to track the infection: the slime we captured. Since it absorbs essence on contact, we can determine whether or not a person is infected by feeding it a blood sample and watching the changes in coloration. If the victim is infected, the slimes color leans towards dark purple; if healthy, it grows redder. The creature easily reveals what our tools cant.</em>

    <em>As it turns out, I am infected. As are all the ratkin whose blood we have tested.</em>

    <em>I I previously discounted the now very real possibility that the infection started with Fein because no one in his warren suffered from the disease and that he never met our initial patient. I failed to consider that we beastmen could carry the disease without the symptoms.</em>

    <em>Human or ratkin, the viges washerwomen use the same river. Its possible our initial patient struck up a conversation with a passing ratkin and unknowingly contracted the gue then.</em>

    <em>Lord Johannes and I agreed to keep this information to ourselves. Ive already heard Lord Fouket wonder why the vermin hadnt contracted the disease yet. If the truth were to spread I fear certain folk will mistake an ident for a malicious plot and react ordingly.</em>

    <em>Finally, and perhaps worst of all, the inquisitors have arrived. Led by a certain Robert Duroy (a bald fellow who struck me as the kind of person to draw his sword first and ask questionster) they have quickly deemed the situation a demonic plot. As if the very forces of nature bent the knee to long-sealed relics.</em>

    <em>Whatever the case, the inquisitors have blockaded the roads and sent reports of whats happening here by messenger birds. Crossbowmen and archers will soon encircle the vige and shoot anyone trying to leave on sight. Anyone who managed to flee the vige earlier will be captured and either sent back to it for quarantine or executed on the spot.</em>

    <em>The message is clear: no one leaves until a cure is found.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Knightday, Earthmoon 85th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Weve lost five people to the gue tonight. Inquisitor Duroy and his men killed twice as many after they were caught trying to escape the vige. He had their crossbow bolt-riddled bodies showcased at the gallows as a warning to others.</em>

    <em>While his methods are undoubtedly brutal, they might end up saving more lives than ours in the long term. The number of infected will soon outnumber the living. If this gue escapes Heros Rest, thousands (nay, millions) will suffer.</em>

    <em>Further testing with the slime confirmed that the nightseeds carry the Purple gue. Lord Johannes and I are now convinced that they are its source. This ce was doomed the moment Fein stumbled upon them.</em>

    <em>We have managed to convince Duroy not to put the gardens to the me until we could devise a cure from the flowers, though he restricted their ess and sent men to explore the tunnels. He believes they can track whatever demon he believes is the source of this disaster. I am less optimistic.</em>

    <em>Still, these nts are a natural marvel and we cannot let fanatics destroy them. Our first attempt at developing a serum might have shown less than optimal results, but Lord Johannes and I are confident that we can refine it. With time, we might develop a potion capable of dragging patients back from deaths door. Maybe even extend their lifespan indefinitely.</em>

    <em>Lord Johannes wants us to focus our efforts on refining my serum. At this point, it is already toote to save most of our patients with traditional methods.</em>

    <em>It is toote to cure him.</em>

    <em>Lord Johannes does not want to die. No more than I do. At least this way, he will have a chance to linger. A loss in mental faculties can be ovee with all the time in the world.</em>

    <em>We have consulted our patients about experimental treatment. We did not hide the risks. We have more volunteers than we have serum doses. No one wants to die.</em>

    <em>We all seek to escape deaths harvest.</em></blockquote>

    The next page was scribbled, as if the writer had struggled to find his words. The next entry skipped an entire day. <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Merchday, Earthmoon 87th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Lord Johannes is gone.</em>

    <em>The body the body remains, but the soul does not. The sesses (if I call reanimated rotting corpses a sess) are at best mindless automatons capable of following basicmands. The failures are rabid.</em>

    <em>Lord Johannes was not a sess.</em>

    <em>I I had to put him down before he could escape and attack our patients. Hisst eye was ring at me. Failure, it says. Youve failed me, you poor excuse of an apprentice.</em>

    <em>This There are no words to describe this tragedy. Lord Johannes was a schr of immense intellect. He has saved hundreds of lives and his hemocycler machine will probably preserve untold numbers over the next centuries. He was a mentor to me.</em>

    <em>And I failed him.</em>

    <em>Most of the viges poption is either infected or barricaded inside their own homes. People have noticed that the ratkin are immune to the gue. Lord Foukets soldiers send me wary nces, but since I am thest apothecary in this dying ce and theirst hope of survival, they let me work in peace.</em>

    <em>However, I can feel the tension in the air. Its only a matter of time before the vigers desperation outweighs their fear of the inquisitors. Lord Fouket is increasinglyining about myck of progress. Lord Duroys men have found nothing but old bones underground, they said.</em>

    <em>In these troubled times, my only source of joy is young Liliane. She does notin, and by now she knows me enough to anticipate orders. With Lord Johannes dead, she has be more than an assistant. She is my crutch.</em>

    <em>Her continued resistance to the gue boggles the mind, however. When I wondered why out loud, she smiled at me sweetly with a mouth full of purgeleaves. She always did that when she didnt know what to say.</em>

    <em>I am starting to wonder whether purgeleaf addiction and her strange resistance to the disease might be rted.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Rogueday, Earthmoon 88th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Astonishingly, it is.</em>

    <em>Patients treated with purgeleaf show a notable reduction in blood swelling and a better response to other medicine. Enough to dy what should have been certain death. It appears to stimte whichever part of a humans essence fights back against the disease. Fascinating. Deeply fascinating.</em>

    <em>I suspect that Lilianes habits might have strengthened her essence long enough for her to develop a natural resistance to the gue. I might be able to create a remedy against it at least for those who havent caught it yet. Im afraid treatment will only buy time for those who are already infected.</em>

    <em>I have brought my discovery to Lord Fouket, who was overjoyed and ordered his men to gather all purgeleaf avable within Heros Rest. Inquisitor Duroy cautiously agreed to let foragers venture into the nearby woods under escort.</em>

    <em>However; there is only so much purgeleaf to go around at this time of the year. The doses a child requires pales before what an adult requires. Im afraid the herb will soone in short supply, at which point I fear thefts and fights are inevitable.</em>

    <em>Still, a potential cure is now within sight.</em>

    <em>I just need to live long enough to see this through.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Knightday; Seamoon 2nd.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>The Arcane Abbey stopped ringing bells for the dead today. Theres not enough priests left to sound them.</em>

    <em>Corpses remain unburied in the mud and more join them each day. Inquisitor Duroy has joined them, though he perished from a fall rather than the gue. No one believes it was an ident, but no one knows who did it. Too many suspects.</em>

    <em>It changes nothing. Soldiers from Timberkeep have built a vast trench around the region and patrol it. Their archers and crossbows shoot on sight at anyone trying to escape from a safe distance. Lord Fouket exchanges with their leader through messenger birds. They promised to lift the blockade once we find a cure.</em>

    <em>I am not sure they willply even if I grant their wish.</em>

    <em>Lord Fouketcks able-bodied men willing to bury the dead or enforce the curfew. Not that he cares anymore. The dreaded purple spots now show on his arm. His remaining soldiers confiscated all the purgeleaf they could find. Theyve already killed three people who refused to surrender their stash.</em>

    <em>I am no longer allowed to leave the castle or treat any patients sent my way. I am to dedicate all my resources to Lord Fouket, his men, and the inquisitors. I argued until they pointed weapons at my throat. Not that it would have changed anything. They hoard what meager purgeleaves remains.</em>

    <em>Liliane tells me what she hears among what remains of the keeps household. The harvest is bad due to ack of manpower, and winter is upon us. A man killed his sick children for fear of contagion. A woman made a fortune selling bogus herbs to the desperate as purgeleaves, only to be stoned to death when her treachery was revealed. Lorrimor and the ratkin are rumored to be building a tunnel to escape the vige.</em>

    <em>It suddenly urred to me that Liliane has never left my side since I weed her into myb many weeks ago. When I asked her why she never returned to her parents, she replied that they hardly remembered that she existed. She had six siblings, all boys who could work in the fields, while she was scrawny and quiet. I suspect her parents never noticed her natural intelligence (or cared).</em>

    <em>Dont you want to try to reconcile with your family? I asked her. This might be now or never.</em>

    <em>It is toote, she replied quietly. I had never seen a child with such old eyes before. Days toote.</em>

    <em>Some of the men that passed away on my operation tables had been her brothers. All dead, alongside her parents. Sheforted them the same way she offeredpanionship to strangers on their deathbeds.</em>

    <em>My mind is set. If we survi</em><em><strong>Once</strong></em><em> we survive this, I will take her with me. I will train as an apothecary. She has a gift.</em>

    <em>She deserves to bloom more than these cursed flowers.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Mageday, Seamoon 3rd.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>Foukets men hanged Lorrimorst night.</em>

    <em>I saw his corpse on the gallows from the castles walls on the morrow. A dozen other ratkin swing at his side, carried by the wind. I cannot tell if Fein is among them. From what I understand the rest have been lynched, gutted, or worse.</em>

    <em>I knew something like this would happen the moment the ratkin failed to show symptoms. Desperate men seek scapegoats for their suffering and, as odd as it sounds, Duroy was harsh but fair. Without him, the fanatics among his men foundmon cause with Lord Foukets guards in ming the obvious suspects behind the outbreak.</em>

    <em>Versions differ on what started the brawl. Some say Foukets men requisitioned use of their secret escape tunnel, and were denied; whether that tunnel exists at all remains a mystery, but facts weigh little against the desperation of armed men. Others said the ratkin hoarded purgeleaves and refused to share.</em>

    <em>In the end, it does not matter why blood was shed that night; only that it did.</em>

    <em>Ratkin are the smallest and weakest beastmen, and numbers do not help much when facing men in te armor. They tried to copse their warrens entrance, but it was too little toote. The soldiers that went into their homes came back fewer in numbers. It made no difference.</em>

    <em>Fifty ratkin lived in Heros Rest yesterday. None survived to see the dawn. Foukets men spared no one. Women, children no one.</em>

    <em>I wonder who the real beasts are sometimes.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Merchday; Seamoon 4th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>I woke up coughing.</em>

    <em>My blood is swelling in my talons. Theres purple hiding beneath my ck feathers. I feel dizzy, and tired.</em>

    <em>I do not understand.</em>

    <em>I do not understand.</em></blockquote>

    The handwritings quality decreased considerably from then on. <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 553 of the Erebian Calendar, Rogueday; Seamoon 5th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Heros Rest, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>I am writing this from bed. This will certainly be myst entry.</em>

    <em>The gue the gue is consuming me. I can feel it crawling into my lungs and flesh and bones. It burns my innards as it spreads its roots. I am dying. I do not know why.</em>

    <em>Lord Fouket did not wake up either. Most of his surviving men have barricaded themselves in the cer with thest few women to drink and fuck and party. They (correctly) say its the end.</em>

    <em>The remaining patients cling to Liliane. They believe she is a holy child. A saint. The Goddess chosen. Soon she will be alone, and it terrifies her. She only leaves my bedside to gather food and water. It changes nothing. My purgeleaf serum remains iplete.</em>

    <em>As is the other. It waits at my bedside. Ast resort. Ive never tested it on a beastman. I do not know if it will work.</em>

    <em>No. I know it will work. But I am not sure how much of me will remain. Some of my earlier experiments still haunt the cells below my feet. I hear them banging their skulls against the walls, always at the same hour. The dead dance among the dying.</em>

    <em>Do their souls remain inside those husks? Once I hoped for it. Now I dread it. To be trapped in a prison, mindlessly repeating the same tasks is that truly preferable to death? After so many years spent chasing immortality, now I stand paralyzed on the very threshold.</em>

    <em>This is why the Arcane Abbey considers the undead as abominations. A body that perishes releases the soul back to the Soulforge, where the Four Artifacts will reforge and send it back into the world. A soul that lingers too long among the living goes mad, they say. I always saw it as preferable to losing all memories, all knowledge (all that makes me, </em><em><strong>me</strong></em><em>), but I hadn''t witnessed the alternative with my own eyes.</em>

    <em>One way or another, I doubt I will be in a state to write more.</em></blockquote>

    The next entry didnt show a date. It was only a single sentence long. <blockquote>

    <em>Liliane is coughing.</em></blockquote>

    I stared at the page for a few seconds before continuing. Spilled ink stands between every feverish word. <blockquote>

    <em>Liliane has contracted the gue. The Purple gue has sunk its ws into her. I believed she was immune. I was wrong</em>

    <em>This gue is a magical organism. A primitive consciousness. An essence parasite whose instinct is to spread, spread, and spread. It kills, as is its nature, but it does not want to die out.</em>

    <em>Now that this pestilence has run out of easy hosts, it is growing more aggressive. Oveing my beastman biology and Liliane''s purgeleaf-induced tolerance demands more effort, but it has no choice. There is no one left. No one left.</em>

    <em>I told Liliane that it would be alright. That I am on the verge of finding the cure. That we will both survive. She believes me.</em>

    <em>Someone believes in me.</em>

    <em>I cannot stop now. I force myself to step out of bed, against the pain and the agony. I cannot die now. She needs me. So long as she breathes the battle is not yet done. I need to live long enough to save her.</em>

    <em>I can save her.</em>

    <em>I </em><em><strong>must</strong></em><em> save her.</em></blockquote>

    The handwriting improved from now on. The words were sharper, clearer, filled with greater purpose. <blockquote>

    <em>I have taken the undead serum.</em>

    <em>The pain is gone, reced with a dull, pervading sense of numbness. My tongue can no longer distinguish between vors. ss and stone feel the same when I touch them. As in, I feel nothing. My sight and hearing remain unaffected for now.</em>

    <em>It does not stop the disease. Whenever I lose a feather, I see the purple spreading underneath my skin. It will devour me alive for however long that word applies to me. Its a small price to pay. I can walk. I can work.</em>

    <em>I put on the filtering apparatus to limit Lilianes exposure to my own breathing. I have worn it for so long that it feels almostfortable. Like a second skin.</em>

    <em>On one talon, I amcking in resources. On the other talon, I only have one patient left to take care of instead of dozens. Liliane has my undivided attention. It reassures her. She feels alive. She is alive.</em>

    <em>She is alive.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>I cannot tell day from night anymore. I feel tired, but sleep eludes me. Hunger and thirst no longer affect me.</em>

    <em>Liliane is bedridden. I give her thest of my painkillers and remedies. It halts the diseases progress, but it does not stop it. I will have to hook her to the hemocycler. She needs more time. I need more time.</em>

    <em>The castle is silent. I found Foukets men in the cer with their throats sliced open. Better to die quickly by ones own hand than slowly await the inevitable, I suppose. They had the decency to leave purgeleaf behind at least.</em>

    <em>It might be enough to develop a cure.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>I attached Liliane to the hemocycler. I alternate between pumping and working.</em>

    <em>The process hurts her. For all her resilience, shes still a child. I tell her to be strong. My purgeleaf serum nearspletion.</em>

    <em>This nightmare is almost over.</em></blockquote>

    The next page showed traces of liquid and a small ss shard embedded in the paper. <blockquote>

    <em>Liliane did not wake up.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Shes still smiling at me.</em>

    <em>What is there to smile for?</em>

    <em>Ive failed her.</em>

    <em>But theres still a chance.</em>

    <em>The nightseeds are blooming.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Liliane woke up, but she is gone.</em>

    <em>She is quieter than ever. She understands me. Enough toplete simple tasks.</em>

    <em>But she does not smile anymore. Not even when I ask her to.</em>

    <em>Her eyes are empty.</em>

    <em>She is gone.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Myboratory is silent, save for the noise of the undead beating their skulls against walls.</em>

    <em>My world is damp and gray. I can no longer see colors, though I can identify essence on sight. Liliane cleans with the broom. It is all she does nowadays, hour after hour.</em>

    <em>I feel tired. I could lie down and wait. Wait for the flowers to grow and cover me.</em>

    <em>I cannot. There has to be someone else outside the castle. A patient to save. Someone who needs me.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>There is no one left.</em>

    <em>The vige is silent and full of bones. The fields went fallow with no one to tend to them. Cows bellow among them, their owners dead. It surprises me. I would have expected the gue to turn on them.</em>

    <em>What flesh the gue did not consume, the crows did. My cousins. They stare at me as if they could see my face behind the mask. It urs to me I havent removed it in the Goddess knows how long.</em>

    <em>Why arent animals affected?</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Rats feast in Heros Rest. Weve fed them well. I saw them devour their beastman cousins with as much appetite as the humans who slew them. The vermin gorge themselves on disease-ridden corpses, yet they do not contract it.</em>

    <em>The Purple gue infects the very essence of the target. All creatures that live in this world should fall to it. Yet oddly, it spared the animals who now haunt Heros Rest. The gue does not pass on to crows, even though the fact it managed to infect me would suggest that it could. It simply refuses to in spite of ack of alternatives.</em>

    <em>Something is not right.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>This gue is no natural gue.</em>

    <em>The nightseeds in my care still carry it. In my current state, I have grown attuned to essence. Perhaps I have undergone the fabled Awakening, or undeaths precarious position between life and death gave me an acute sensitivity to the worlds underpinning magic. I no longer need a slime to tell the sick from the infected.</em>

    <em>I injected rat test subjects with the nightseed pollen that started this entire mess. I gave them doses to kill a man thrice over. Yet they do not contract the disease. My undeath serum does not affect them either. Whatever curse blooms from these flowers simply refuses to touch the animals of the world.</em>

    <em>I can only see one possibility.</em>

    <em>The Purple gue is not a normal disease.</em>

    <em>It is a weapon.</em>

    <em>A weapon meant to kill humans, or anything close enough.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>I ventured back into the tunnels Fein uncovered. The warren is a tomb. An open grave full of dirt and rot. Someone set the Underground Garden aze during the pogrom, destroying the remaining nightseeds.</em>

    <em>Good. This curse ought to be destroyed for good.</em>

    <em>Besides the strange, five-headed symbol, the tunnels hold old bones. Centuries-old remains kept intact by the nts undead grasp. Examination of the bone structure indicates a poor mismatch of animal and human body parts. This is no harmonious blend of man and beast, but a butchers work. A first draft.</em>

    <em>One of them is a man whose arms were reced with wings. Crow wings.</em>

    <em>The Arcane Abbeys scriptures tell tales of the Age of Wonders, when great and prosperous kingdoms ruled thend under the Goddess guidance. They speak of how the sins of mankind gave rise to the Demon Ancestors, whoid waste to these ancient civilizations with wicked magic and forgotten weapons.</em>

    <em>I believe Fein uncovered one of them.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Though it tears my soul apart, I have decided to destroy my research on the nightseeds. I burned the remaining flowers, alongside my notes and all samples of my undeath serum.</em>

    <em>May Lord Johannes spirit forgive me. Our dreams cost is simply too great.</em>

    <em>Now I must put to rest the others. Free what remains of their souls. Liliane can sense it. If I am not mistaken I believe she is waiting for it.</em>

    <em>She has been waiting for a long time.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>I buried Lilianes ashes beneath a bed of purgeleaves, near the ce where we first met. I hope we shall meet again one day, in another life. It is my most sincere wish.</em>

    <em>However I cannot join her yet.</em>

    <em>A thought will not cease to haunt me. This garden cannot have been the only one of its kind. This curse might hide in another dark corner of the world, waiting for a fool to unleash it back into the world.</em>

    <em>I have removed my mask for the first time in what feels like months. I looked at dust and rotting bones through two eyes of ss.</em>

    <em>Most of my flesh is gone. Consumed by the disease. The rest is being slowly devoured. The gue will cling to the veryst scrap.</em>

    <em>So I tore them off.</em>

    <em>I gazed at my own skull and threw my crippled arms away with the trash. I tore off purple organs and emptied my suit of myself. I write these lines staring at my own corpse.</em>

    <em>It shouldnt be possible, and yet my soul remains bound to my uniform; my second skin. It is said that ghosts are anchored to what mattered most to them in life. I never cared about my frail imperfect body.</em>

    <em>I only ever cared about being an apothecary.</em>

    <em>My essence, my soul, has be one with the very symbol of my station. I am a ghost in a shell of leather and steel, more artifice than man, unchanging and free from mortal frailty. I have be my truest self in death.</em>

    <em>I am free of the gue at least. Though it infects essence, it still needs flesh to anchor its corruption. I will burn my own remains and the evil that has infested it.</em>

    <em>I have outstayed my wee in this world, but I cannot leave yet.</em>

    <em>I must see this through.</em></blockquote> <blockquote>

    <em>Date: Year 556 of the Erebian Calendar, Knightday; Firemoon 8th.</em>

    <em>Entry written in: Mosswood, Arcadian Freeholds.</em>

    <em>I have saved a life today.</em>

    <em>I have left Heros Rest. No one stopped me. It is only when I encountered a vige on the road that I understood why. It has been almost three years since Heros Rest was destroyed by the Purple gue. No one will keep watch on a graveyard so cursed not even a Blight could arise from its corpse.</em>

    <em>Three years.</em>

    <em>Months feel like days for the dead I suppose. I will need to keep better track of my time.</em>

    <em>The people of Mosswood gave me strange looks when I appeared on their viges threshold, but not for long. They suffer from a smallpox outbreak, and my expertise is required.</em>

    <em>I have saved a life. A boy of eleven.</em>

    <em>Liliane would have been his age.</em></blockquote>

    I closed the journal and stared at Colmar. My friend sat near the open window, observing the stars shining above Snowdrift.

    Almost a century and a half, I whispered. Youve been saving lives for so long

    I could have saved more, Colmar replied gloomily. He shook his head. The rest will bore you, my friend.

    Im not certain. I had only read a small part of the journal and of Colmars long, <em>long </em>journey through the ages. She would be proud of you.

    Whom?

    Liliane. I think she would be proud of you.

    Colmar said nothing for a moment. He hardly has any bodynguage to speak of, but I knew he knew that I was right.

    I cannot rest until I have purged this pestilence from Pangeal, Robin, he said. Medicine has advanced enough to reduce the harm the Purple gue causes, but it has yet to be eradicated.

    I set the journal on my desk and join my hands. Did you find other gardens?

    Two more, he confirmed. All marked with the same symbol. Which, from what you tell me, represents the Demon Ancestor Belsara, the Beast of Sloth. I have destroyed them both, but it seems another has eluded me.

    My jaw clenched on its own. The outbreak fifteen years ago was no ident.

    I do not think so either. Colmar turned to face me, his ss eyes reflecting the moonlight. The civil war, the chaos were dealing with today our foes nted these seeds years ago.

    Countless innocents perished from the Purple gue, including my parents. If the Knots indeed unleashed it against Archfrost, Florence and her ilk would have much to answer for.

    <em>We have to find these nts and destroy them</em>, I thought. <em>The more we learn, the bigger our task bes</em>. The bones you found, I whispered, putting two and two together. They were the first beastmen. The first attempts to create them.

    I supposed as much. Colmar shook his head. I originally did not understand the purpose of this exercise, but if your theory about the Demon Ancestors being former heroes is correct then I can see an exnation.

    As did I.

    The Ranger ss can only control beasts. Never men.

    So Belsara blended both.

 Chapter Nineteen: The Aftermath

    Chapter Neen: The Aftermath

    Of all the ways I expected to end this evening, managing an infirmary with Marika wasnt one of them.

    Were losing him, my fellow hero observed as she extracted essence from a patienta frothing butcher from the northern side of town who struggled against the chains holding him to the operation table with maddened rage. Can you quicken your pace?

    Im trying, I replied while guiding our mans corrupted essence into a runic whetstone. Though I was growing better at it, I struggled with our current case.

    There was a reason why essence transfers between humans were frowned upon. Unlike weapons, which at the end of the day were mostly pieces of metal shaped a certain way that would maximize their deadliness, humans were intricate webs of fear, anger, joy, sadness, and countless other emotions. Each man was a story of their own.

    Hence it meant that no witchcrafter could cleanly extract a piece of human essence without affecting the rest. Taking away anger-suffused essence meant ripping out rted memories and emotions that bled into it. Marika was good, <em>very </em>good; but the essence she extracted and tasked me to transport to safety held more than gas and fury. I felt the taste of blood and leather on my tongue, and the smell of fire in my nose.

    At least our current patient would survive with all his limbs intact, though perhaps not without guilt. Guards had found him butchering his neighbor with an ax before restraining him.

    Though we had won a resounding victory tonight, it hade at a cost. The northern watchtower pyre had time to spread its poison to three streets worth of civilians before Rnd could bring it down. It took us hours of sustained effort to restrain those who had inhaled the gas and rescue those who hadnt.

    I had healed as many people as I could with my power, buying the gas suffusing their lungs and sealing it away in trinkets. We had umted a wide pile of wooden sticks carrying enough rage and chemical substances to start a riot.

    However, my power required consent; which not all our patients could provide. Once the effects of Florences gas reached its apex, its victims could hardly string words together. We tried to obtain forced signatures from them by literally holding their hands and guiding their quills over a contract, all in vain. My power might not care much for intentions, but it still regarded agreement obtained by body maniption as illegitimate.

    I closed my eyes and focused on the task at hand. The flow of essence appeared as a scintiting cloud to me, a flow of colored fumes floating out of our patients mouth at Marikas coaxing. I grabbed the simmering substance with my hands as if it were solid and held on to it. It fought back against my grip like a snake, hissing with demonic wrath. I mmed it against the nearby whetstone, then removed my hand before the curse could cling to me.

    Our patient loudly exhaled, his head tilting to the side with empty eyes. He was still frothing at the mouth, but he no longer fought back against his bindings.

    That takes care of this one, Marika noted before ncing at the ck Keeps infirmary. Half a dozen nuns from the Arcane Abbey tended to twice as many patients sleeping on makeshift beds. Colmar hasnt returned yet.

    He must have his hands full with ire, I replied, my tone breaking slightly. Florence and Chastel had left our dear countess in a critical state. Considering her condition, we decided to let Colmar fully focus on her while we dealt with the civilians.

    Marika and I werent the only heroes in the infirmary. Eris often hopped in with medical supplies, while Rnd sat next to a woman, holding her hand while whispering kind words. His squire Sebastian followed him like his shadow and observed the scene with sympathy. He whispered words into his lieges ear and often put his hands on Rnds shoulder tofort him. Those two were close. Closer than what was proper considering their respective stations.

    <em>I suppose Rnd takes his peace where he can find it</em>, I thought. Rnd had lived most of his life surrounded by either foes or sycophants. He probably cherished the few true friends he had made.

    However, Sebastians words hardly seemed to help. The prince appeared truly exhausted as he held on to the patients hand, his eyes down. I could tell that he med himself for what happened tonight.

    I couldnt stand the sight for long. After confirming our current patient was stable, I moved to the princes side. Rnds squire appraised me with a strange look. On one hand, he trusted me enough to approach his liege; on the other, I could tell he remained wary, his hand ready to draw his sword at a moments notice.

    <em>He has been defending his prince from harm for a long time</em>, I guessed,<em> and never allows himself to rx.</em>

    Youve done your best, Rnd, I said, and I meant it. The city still stands, and casualties were kept to a minimum.

    Rnds expression darkened. People still died, Robin.

    A few, I conceded. But fewer than those who would have perished without your help.

    Marika, who had overheard the conversation, moved over and quickly joined in. If you hadnt intervened, the watchtower pyre would have reduced all of Snowdrift to a wastnd.

    The prince stared at the woman in the infirmary bed. She had fallen into a peaceful sleep, though the bandage over her left eye showed she wouldnt recover from some of her injuries. Perhaps I could help her if I found a criminal willing to trade away an eyeball but that would have to wait.

    It was awful, Rnd confessed with sorrow. I had to cut down innocents. My own citizens.

    It was one thing to cut down monsters and viins, and another to y men and women driven to madness against their will. You did your best, I insisted, waving my hand at the wounded sleeping around us. These people are alive today because of you.

    Rnds squire awkwardly patted his liege on the back. Hes right, he whispered to Rnd. You shouldnt me yourself. You did not start what happened tonight, but you helped end it.

    His words helped Rnd move away from his sadness, though the dark look in his eyes told me he had simply let his anger push away his sorrow instead.

    I want that woman executed, Robin, Rnd said with an angry frown. Her kind deserves no forgiveness. Theyre monsters. They will regret the day they chose to defile thend of Archfrost.

    <em>Believe me, oh prince, I feel the same</em>, I thought.<em> But I cant let you chop off heads right now.</em> We need to interrogate Florence first, I pointed out. As the Knot of Wraths leader, she is privy to information we need. Her factions ns, the identity of cultist allies in your government

    She might be the key to contain the Blight too, Marika added, her jaw clenching. Since she helped create it.

    Rnd clenched his fists, his mind clearly hesitating between reason and the satisfaction of seeing Florences head fall off her shoulders. In the end, the prince proved wise enough to dy his gratification.

    Robin, I will surrender Florence to your and ires care for now, he said. Do with her as you wish, so long as she never sees the light of day again.

    That has never been in the cards, I reassured him. The best Florence could hope for was life imprisonment.

    Good. We already have too many traitors running around. Rnd joined his hands, his face thoughtful. What of Baron Dolganov? Has he been caught yet?

    Hes missing, his squire replied. ording to the guards, he and his men escaped the city while we fought off the arson attempts.

    That was odd. Baron Dolganov had joined a demonic insurrection against his sovereign. He couldnt possibly expect to survive this mess with his title intact if it failed. Once a gambler had put all their chips on the table, the only option was to go all-in and pray for the best.

    Unless I exchanged a nce with Rnd, who frowned back.

    He went to my uncle, the Regent, Rnd guessed. I nodded in confirmation, having reached the same conclusion. I can see his fingerprints all over tonights disaster. He hoped the demons would do his dirty work.

    Duke Clovis, the regent of the realm somehow he struck me as the exact kind of fool the Knots would want to prop up.

    You believe he will revolt soon, I told Rnd. It wasnt a question, but a fact. And you want to strike at him before it degenerates into a civil war.

    I always intended to march back against my own capital, Whitethrone, Rnd admitted. My uncle Clovis staffed it with his men and used his position to beggar the realm. My hope for todays ball was to gather an army to depose him. I have secured my other uncles support and enough troops, but

    Marika scowled. You need our help.

    Rnd nodded slowly. This battle would end quicker if we heroes stand together, he said while rising from his seat, a hand on his chest. Please, my friends. I need your help. <em>Archfrost </em>needs your help.

    You can count on my support, I replied immediately. But protecting Snowdrift has been my main priority for a while. I cannot leave it behind undefended.

    Yes, of course. Rnd nodded quickly. We can discuss how to proceed tomorrow, though I must warn you trouble in the capital will mean the same for this city.

    He was right, unfortunately. Losing Archfrosts capital would cause the entire country to spiral into a new war. I might serve Snowdrift better by ensuring a smooth transition of power.

    I am not a general, let alone a good soldier, Marika said with less enthusiasm. But I can hardly deny a princes request.

    Rnd cracked a smile. I make this request as a fellowrade-in-arms, not as a ruler. I hope we can work together without titles and social status getting in the way.

    I already heard these words uttered by nobles who did not believe a single word of it; the Rivends gentry made a show of portraying themselves as close tomoners in public, only to better fall into mockery and debauchery behind closed doors.

    I didnt sense a shred of falsehooding from Rnd. His eyes shone with the sincere innocence of a man who truly believed in a better future for all. I could simply <em>feel </em>his earnestness. He meant what he promised, though I wondered if he could deliver it.

    <em>If he can back up his talk, then were going to get along great,</em> I thought with a smile before shaking his hands. Lets build a better Archfrost together.

    We share the same wish, Robin, Rnd replied warmly, before shaking Marikas hand next. You should go rest, my friends. The night has been long and dawn will soon rear its head.

    My lord would be wise to listen to his own advice, his squire teased him lightly.

    Perhaps, Rnd conceded with a sigh of exhaustion. If you would kindly show me around, Sebastian. I can hardly remember which room is supposed to be mine.

    After a fewst goodbyes, I watched on as Rnds squire guided the prince out of the infirmary, the two exchanging a chuckle over some joke I couldnt overhear. The way this Sebastian helped his exhausted prince walk, the light in Rnds eyes I was starting to see where the rumors Therese heard came from.

    If they were true it wouldnt bode well for our future kingly couple.

    Marika put her hands on her waist once we were alone, her lips twitching. A question burned on the tip of her tongue, but she dared not ask me.

    I didnt see your husband, I replied, knowing what weighed on her mind. No one who matched his description anyway.

    You think he could be in the capital? she asked me, her jaw tightening. Or Walbourg?

    I cant say yet, but it seems likely to me. I had expected the Knot of Wrath to deploy all its forces to Snowdrift, but it seemed Florence chose againstmitting all of her organizations resources to the task. Dolganovs absence suggested some of her men were sent south to exacerbate the uing civil war. And we still have the Knot of Greed to deal with.

    Florences capture would be a terrible blow to her cults activities, but its remnants would continue to cause us trouble in theing months. At least Snowdrift appeared safe for the time being. Soraseo went to the Blight to check on its seals, though the fact it hadnt grown meant the Knot had failed to strengthen the curse.

    Ill go check on ire and Florence, I told Marika. You should go to Benicio. Im sure hes worried for you.

    Marika chuckled. My son does not worry when Im with you, she said. He knows we watch each others backs.

    I cracked a smile in response. It felt good to be someones hero.

    After leaving the infirmary and splitting from Marika, I hardly made a few steps before encountering ire and Colmar in a corridor. The formers arms were encased in twin white casts hanging from her neck with bandages. ire looked more exhausted than I had ever seen her, with a grim face, pale skin, and heavy eyelids, but the fact she managed to stay awake and stand with her injuries was nothing short of a miracle.

    I did notment on her quick recovery or her resilience. She was too exhausted to care. Instead, I wordlessly opened my arms and weed her into a hug. ire let out a small noise of surprise at the sudden embrace, but she swiftly rxed and let her head fall on my shoulder. She weed my attempt atfort, not caring if any gossiper saw us. Colmar observed us without a word, his ss eyes ncing at ires arms to ensure I would not press against them too much.

    Youre feeling better? I asked ire softly while stroking her hair.

    I feel better now, ire replied calmly, though I detected a hint of redness on her cheeks.Is Silverine

    Alive, if wounded, I reassured her. The pegasus was a robust beast. It will take her time to recover before she can fly again, though.

    ires lips twitched into a small smile of relief. Colmar told me he had to shoo you away from my bedside.

    I admit I was worried for you. I released her, my eyes looking into her pale gaze. And not just because of your wounds.

    ire scowled. I need to know if she spoke the truth.

    <em>If my father is truly a member of the Knots</em>, went unsaid. I nodded at her and exchanged a nce with Colmar. We too had questions of our own.

    Once we had captured Florence and properly restrained her, we surrendered her to Cortaner for interrogation. The Inquisitor had been holding our prisoner in the dungeon for hours now. He must have gathered a wealth of intel since.

    The three of us prepared to move into the dungeons when a familiar face popped up in a cloud of smoke.

    How is it going? Eris let out a yawn of exhaustion as she materialized. She had been running around all night to transport messages and supplies. Should you be out of bed already, dear ire? You look deader than some ghosts Ive met.

    I nced at Colmar from the corner of my eye, who did not react. <em>Of course Eris knew</em>, I thought. <em>Eris keeps everybodys secrets</em>.

    I cannot rest while my city is under threat, ire replied with a countess countenance. Her spark had returned. What is the situation outside?

    I came back from the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>, Eris exined. Gunndra and Soraseo secured the site. The cultists made a push to break the seals, but failed to get past the barricades.

    Then the Blight is contained for now? I asked.

    Yes and no. Eris chewed her lower lip. The Blight has stopped expanding into the suburbs, but it is now progressing downwards.

    Downwards? Colmar crossed his arms. Is the Blight digging a tunnel?

    Of course not, Eris replied with a deadpan look. The Blight is digging floors and dungeons. Dear Gunndra believes it is spreading its roots, so to say. That it seeks to connect to something.

    Like another Blight? I asked, an ugly picture starting to form in my mind. There must be others across Archfrost.

    Possibly, Eris conceded. Though if I had to hazard a guess, I bet the Blight is trying to connect to its source.

    To Belgoroth, the Lord of Wrath. Our true enemy. The likes of Florence were only pawns on a board.

    Where is the Lord of Wrath sealed? I questioned Eris. He is not yet free to do as he wishes, or he wouldnt need cultists to do his dirty work.

    You must be familiar with the Archfrostian Spring, Robin, Eris said. I nodded in confirmation, as did ire and Colmar. This famous battle saw the most esteemed generation of heroes confront the dragon Xernobog in an ancient citys ruins. The battle was so fierce that it created a rift between life and death.

    You speak of the Deadgate, ire guessed with a frown.

    Colmar nodded slowly. If I remember correctly, the Lord of Wrath destroyed an entire city on his lonesome.

    You catch on quickly, Colmar, Erisplimented him. The Blight that arose from that atrocity is called the City of Wrath. It lingers in the deste icy expanse north of Archfrost. Xernobog used it as his nest.

    <em>We shall meet again</em> Belgoroth had warned us. <em>When the City of Wrath opens its gates we shall toast to a cup of blood.</em>

    Belgoroths prison has weakened enough for him to spread his Berserk me to the world, Eris said, but he has yet to fully break out or take physical form.

    How can you be certain? ire asked.

    Because he would be marching on us at a beastmen armys helm if he were, Eris replied with a dry smile. The Lord of Wrath requires no help nor preparation toy waste to the world. The tales describe him as the third most destructive of the Demon Ancestors, behind the Lich of Gluttony and the Curse of Pride. Subtlety is the Devil of Greeds domain.

    Florences n became clear to me. The Knots spread Blights to reroute essence to their masters, I guessed. Now that ours has failed to consume Snowdrift, it is trying to connect to the City of Wrath.

    I will meet with Inquisitor Gunndra and Marika on how we can contain the Blights expansion, Colmar said. An idea came to me, though I must discuss with experienced witchcrafters to ponder its viability.

    In my case, I must take my leave and report to Lady Alexios, Eris replied with a wink. Our dear prince will need her support in theing conflict.

    You should start charging for delivering mail, I teased Eris. You would make a fortune.

    Robin, Robin Nuns like us are paid in piety and smiles, not gold. She blew me a kiss. See you soon.

    And like that, she was gone.

    The rest of us moved into the dungeons, its cells crowded with captured cultists or suspects. The deepest of them housed Florence herself. Considering the inquisitors reputation, I half expected to find her nailed to a wall or worse.

    But Cortaner did not need torture to gain information. He had instead bound Florence with chains and used runestone-carved manacles to disarm her sorcery. Whenever she attempted to channel Belgoroths me, the apothecary found her essence drained by the device.

    Even so, Florence remained defiant when we entered her cell. I hadnt seen her without her doctors mask since she murdered the count, and seeing her face again left me awestruck by its mundaneness. She was no wrinkled witch straight from a tale nor a demoness oozing with supernatural allure. Florence was simply a middle-aged woman withmon features. I could have mistaken her for a bakers wife, or a gentle nurse going on in her years. Only the cold edge in her green eyes betrayed her true self.

    ire, Florence greeted the countess without any malice. Her expression harshened upon seeing us follow her. Colmar, Robin.

    Cortaner, who had been writing down words in a ck notebook, raised his head to look at us. I have extracted a list of confirmed and suspected cultists from across the country, he said without wasting time. I need messenger birds to inform the proper authorities.

    We shall spread word of your findings, Inquisitor, ire replied, her eyes locked with Florences in a staring contest. But I must request your assistance.

    The Countess of Snowdrift took a few steps towards her captive, who did not flinch. ire bent slightly so she could better look into the cultists eyes.

    Why did you kill my grandfather? she asked Florence, spitting out each word with venom.

    Why did you kill Count Brynslow? Cortaner all but ordered, his voice carrying the power of his ss.

    I already told ire, Florence replied calmly. I sensed no resistance against Cortaners magic. The leader of the Knot of Greed, her father, ordered the murder as revenge for your mothers death.

    Lies. ires scowl harshened further, a dark look on her face. All lies.

    This is the truth, Florence insisted. Count Brynslow drove his own daughter to madness to protect his familys reputation.

    She is sincere, Cortaner said coldly. Or at least, she believes she is. My powerpels her to tell me the truth as she understands it.

    <em>So victims tell a subjective truth rather than the objective one</em>, I observed. Which meant they could still be mistaken.

    How would you even know that? ire snapped back.

    I know because I helped autopsy your mother after her death, Florence replied, a sneer on her face. If you do not believe me, interrogate the nurses who worked at the convent. They poisoned your mother on your wicked grandfathers behalf. He intended to take the secret to his grave.

    Youre mistaken, ire insisted, though I could tell doubt gnawed at her. My grandfather he was strict, but he treated me kindly. He would never never do that to his own daughter.

    Oh, he regretted his crime. Florence scoffed. Simply not enough to admit it.

    Cortaner let out a snort of utter contempt. As you owned up to <em>your </em>own sins?

    Florence returned his re. I would never harm my own children.

    Instead, you plotted to kill a thousand, Cortaner replied without any sympathy. You have no leg to stand on.

    Why, Florence? Colmar shook his head. Weve known each other for years. I watched you save so many lives. These murders arent like you.

    I detected a hint of shame in Florences eyes when she looked away. Some lives arent worth saving, Colmar, she said. You should have learned that by now. You are a beastman or were, once.

    Since Cortaner did not react in the slightest, I guessed Colmar had already told him the truth. Undeath must have been the crime the Inquisitor decided to overlook; they were sworn to destroy them on sight after all. As for the rest of us, we had witnessed Colmar lose his head andter put it back in ce. His secret was out of the bag, at least as far as our inner circle was concerned.

    If death taught me anything, Florence, it is that life is a fragile flower that should be cherished, Colmar replied calmly. Beastmen or humans, it does not matter. We are apothecaries, not judges. Our role is to help others, not condemn them.

    We hold the power over life and death, Florence argued back. When we save a fools life, their future acts will taint our conscience.

    I have seen even the worst scum turn their life around in the proper conditions. Colmar sent a brief nce at Cortaner, who remained stubbornly silent. That person may then go on to save others, have children, build a house you can never know what impact a life you save will have on the world, Florence.

    His sincerity appeared to shake Florences confidence, albeit briefly. I believed the same once.

    What changed then? Colmar asked, though our prisoner refused to answer him this time. Florence

    Why have youmitted your crimes, witch? Cortaner asked, his voice heavy with power.

    I saw a sh of defiance pass over Florences face. She tried to resist Cortaners influence, but her attempt proved to be utterly in vain. Her tongue twisted in her mouth, and her face strained as a truth she had buried deep within her heart.

    Because you humans killed my son, she whispered, her voice breaking.

    The sheer sorrow in her voice caused ire to flinch. I opened my mouth to say a word, but then stopped and wisely decided to listen. The pain radiating off Florence was as deep as the sea.

    My son, Matteo. Florences gaze was hollowed out of life as Cortaners magicpelled her to answer. Her defiance had faltered, reced with deep sadness. He was six when he changed. Unlike me, he he couldnt hide his true nature. I had lived in Mosswood for years. I saved my neighbors from cholera and helped their daughter give birth. But when they saw my son gratitude didnt stop them from hanging him to a tree and assisting the vigers in lynching him.

    My fists clenched on their own. I remembered the entries of Colmars diary and the treatment beastmen suffered in the Arcadian Freeholds; one of the few countries that even epted them. I had never considered the point of view of beastmen before, not like this.

    <em>No one should be killed by virtue of their birth</em>, I thought. I noticed ires re softening a bit. She hated Florence for her crimes, but due to the prejudice she suffered as a bastard, a part of her probably sympathized with her enemy.

    Colmar looked down at the ground. I.. I am truly sorry to hear that.

    Humans are beasts, Colmar. Florences gaze hardened with resolve. My gas, Lord Belgoroths breath, only reveals the ugliness they hide within themselves. They do not deserve this. It should belong to the Beastmen.

    Cortaner snickered. Do you truly think your master will share the world with your kind?

    No, Florence confessed. I hope he will, but I know I am lying to myself. Lord Belgoroth loathes Pangeal even more than I do. And I I am fine with that. I want

    She seemed to struggle to find her words, as if unwilling to ept the truth to herself. The Inquisitors power helped her formte her inner thoughts.

    I want you to die. Florences cold, calm tone terrified me. There was no life in it, no joy, not even a slight hint of satisfaction. Just a terrible serenity born of despair. I want <em>all </em>of you<em></em>to die. Then maybe I will feel at peace.

    I did feel a little sorry for her but only a little. What happened to her son was awful, but it did not justify all the chaos and destruction she caused in the slightest. None of the people I had treated today deserved to lose their arms or neighbors to a torrent of madness.

    Besides, at least one of her victims had tried to kill his own children in a fit of insanity. Raging at mankind for taking her son away and then inflicting the same trauma on others struck me as the height of hypocrisy.

    Cortaner appeared to share my opinion. Did any of the people who killed your son survive to this day? he asked Florence.

    No, she replied without any hesitation. Ive killed them all.

    Has anyone living in Snowdriftmitted a crime against you? Cortaner continued.

    Florences lips twitched. No.

    Then why did youunch an attack against this city? Cortaner asked, his tone harsh and imcable.

    Florence red back at him, quiet fury bubbling back to the surface. Because I want vengeance, she said, her green eyes full of rage. Because I want everyone to share my pain. Because I <em>hate </em>you. I hate you for what you are. Humans.

    You traitors all have a gift for finding excuses, Cortaner stated with a ciers coldness. I am sick of them. You simply cannot face the truth: that you sin because you <em>want </em>to.

    Florence spat at the ground. You are the one to talk, Inquisitor, she said defiantly. You, who fights your own goddess true chosen and the corrupt creations that she has forsaken. Once the true Knight returns, you shall know no peace.

    Your so-called true Knight is a demon unworthy of his power, Cortaner replied without hesitation. And you are a deluded fool to listen to him.

    Enough of this, ire snapped before rposing herself. You mentioned that my my fathermissioned you to kill my grandfather. How can you be sure it was him?

    Answer this, Cortaner ordered imperiously.

    Because he has told me, Florence replied with a shrug. I do not know his name or face. Knot leaders meet while masked and under false names, to prevent leaks. But he is your father, ire. He wanted you alive and returned to him. I am certain of it. He will carry on our work in Archfrost.

    Which is? I asked while ire mulled over this information. How do you intend to free Belgoroth?

    Florence did not bother hiding anything. I suppose Cortaner already forced the information out of her. Once the mes of war burn hot enough, we shall shatter his swords bindings and open the City of Wraths gates, she whispered. The dead will howl and madness will engulf the world.

    That is why you needed to repair Belgoroths sword, Cortaner guessed. It is the key to your masters cursed city.

    Florence nodded, a terrible smile on her lips. The Berserker ising for you all.

    Cortaner snorted, unimpressed. If he does, we will destroy him.

    His sheer confidence forced me to feel admiration. Though I didnt intend for things to progress so far. If we prevented Archfrost from sinking back into civil war and contained its Blights, we could sabotage Belgoroths escape. I hoped.

    Something in Florences tale bothered me, however.

    When I took a long deep breath. Part of me feared to learn the truth. When did your son die, Florence?

    Florence scowled. Fifteen years ago.

    I felt Colmars eyes on my back, and my fists tightening. He knew as well as I that the Purple gue started to spread from the frontier between Archfrost and the Arcadian Freeholds.

    You said you slew your sons killers, I said. How did you aplish it?

    Cortaner opened his mouth topel Florence to speak, but she answered on her own with a smile on her lips.

    I found a garden beneath my hometown, she said with a hint of dark satisfaction. A spring of purple flowers whose pollen carries the kiss of death itself

    My hands moved to seize her throat.

    My sudden reaction startled ire, and Colmar took a step forward to stop me. Cortaner grabbed my friend by the shoulder before he could get any closer. Florence herself didnt flinch even as I mmed her against the wall, my fingers trembling with anger.

    It was <em>you</em>, I hissed between my teeth. You spread the Purple gue to Archfrost! To Snowdrift!

    I did, Florence replied calmly.

    It took all my willpower not to strangle her on the spot. My hands held onto her throat. It would be so easy to tighten my grip and watch her choke to death as her lungs struggled to process air, the way my mother perished.

    But unlike her victims, Florence would wee her demise. I could see it in her eyes.

    Childhood memories flooded into my mind. The corpses in the river. The purple spots spreading on my mothers skin and the terrible agony that followed. The fear, the despair, the guilt I remembered it all.

    Can you My voice broke from emotion. Can you even fathom how many lives youve destroyed?

    Florence did not answer me this time. She held my gaze in silence, her eyes unblinking.

    Cortaner cleared his throat, his power traveling through his breath. Do you feel any guilt for this crime, witch?

    Florence faced the four of us. I, who had lost his home and parents to the gue she unleashed; Colmar, who had lost his very flesh to that pestilence; ire, whose grandfather she had murdered and whose city she attempted to destroy; and an inquisitor who wouldnt hesitate to execute her on the spot if needed.

    And when asked to answer for her crimes Florence responded with an eerie, lifeless smile, and a quiet word.

    No.

    Tens, if not hundreds of thousands had died because of her, and her mind remained unclouded by guilt. She had stepped over a mountain of corpses, burying my family beneath its foundations, and did not care one bit.

    I I should have felt angry at her. I was. I <em>hated </em>her. Not for who she was, but what she represented. Something pitiful that filled their heart with nothing but scorn.

    A coward who had given up.

    You dont care about life anymore, I said with contempt. No wonder she could hide her true nature so easily. Not even your own.

    This world is full of despair, Florence replied calmly. Worse, it sounded like she believed it. It is not worth existing.

    Youre wrong. I let go of her throat. Our world is a work in progress. Yes, it is full of sorrow and injustice, but instead of fighting back against them instead of trying to make it better instead of persevering and making sure what happened to your son wouldnt happen to anyone else

    I shook my head in disgust.

    You just gave up, I said. You wallowed in your hatred and ruined the lives of countless people who had done you no wrong. You became the worst version of yourself rather than move on.

    Florences response disappointed me all the more when Ipared it with those of mypanions. Colmar, when faced with terrible tragedy, rose from the dead to save others. Marika carried on for her sons sake. Soraseo, and even Cortaner, sought atonement for their own crimes in their own way.

    The Demon Ancestors might have been heroes once, but they and their servants no longer lived up to the title.

    <em>We </em>did.

    Ill prove you wrong, I promised Florence. You and the demons you serve. Ill show you we can make Pangeal a better ce without you. I swear youll live long enough to see it.

    You will die before I do, she replied coldly. The Berserker ising for you all.

    And we will quench his me like we did yours. I turned to face Cortaner. Gather all the information you can. It is time we purge her cohorts from Archfrost.

    Cortaners head perked up. Archfrost? he repeated. Not just Snowdrift?

    Prince Rnd will march on the capital tomorrow, I said, drawing the others surprised gazes. Your services will be required to clean that den of vipers.

    The same rot that had corrupted Hermeline from within had spread to my homnd, and the Goddess be willing, I would see it wiped out.

    ire and I left the dungeons afterward to take a rest. No doubt we could expect a war council with Rnd tomorrow. Colmar remained behind alongside Cortaner to interrogate Florence, probably on the subject of the gue and its source.

    Such a waste I heard Colmar whisper to Florence.

    He sounded more sad than angry. Perhaps he saw his own reflection in Florence. A dark road not taken.

    She has to be lying, or greatly ill-informed,  ire muttered as we exited the dungeons. About my father, the gue she is trying to get under our skin, nothing more.

    I let out a sigh. The Inquisitors powerpels her to tell the truth.

    I know, I just ires face strained up. I do not want to believe it.

    What happened wasnt your fault, I said.

    But

    I didnt let her finish. I know what youre telling yourself, ire. That if Florence spoke the truth, then it means your grandfathers death and Snowdrifts troublesy on your shoulders.

    ire bit her lower lip. I had guessed correctly.

    Youre wrong, I insisted. Even if your father truly leads the Knot of Greed, he would have targeted Snowdrift anyway for its strategic location. Fenrivos was working on cultivating the Blight for years, long before your grandfather recalled you to his side.

    ire considered my words, and though I could tell that while a part of her still med herself for the chaos, she still saw the truth in my words. The Knots would have sowed destruction even if she hadnt been born. It was in their nature.

    I will investigate, she decided. Some of the nuns that operated my mothers convent still live to this day. I will force them to tell me everything with Lord Cortaners help.

    Sounds like a n, I replied. We will get to the bottom of it, I promise you.

    Yes. ire nodded with determination. If my so-called father leads the Knot of Greed then we might find him in the capital.

    Which Rnd intends to march on, I pointed out.

    If he asks for my help, I will have to provide it, ire replied grimly. I only keep my title with his support. Not answering his call to arms would be foolish, and I owe him much for helping save my city.

    You dont need to actually join the frontlines yourself. I nced at her broken arms. I hoped to transfer her injuries to a prisoner for her sake, but she had barely survived ourst battle. You can simply send a contingent. Snowdrift needs you to be safe and sound.

    People will respect me more if I lead the charge, ire replied with a sigh. But this does beg consideration.

    We can settle it tomorrow morning, I said. Rnd will hold a war council and we can decide then how to organize ourselves.

    Snowdrift needs peace, as does Archfrost. ire held my gaze. I might stumble, but I will not fall.

    Neither the beating of her body nor Florences words had managed to shake her spirit. She was no hero, but she had the heart of one.

    You are strong, ire, I said. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.

    I do not need you to tell me this, ire replied with a thin smile. But I am thankful for your support, Robin.

    She would make a great countess, and an even greater knight.

    I bade ire goodbye and retreated to my chambers. As an adviser to the countess, I was afforded a set of rooms on the ck Keeps second floor. I preferred to sleep in my house near the docksI preferred its cozy atmosphere to the castles austeritybut I was too tired to make the journey.

    I found the door unlocked and someone waiting for me on the other side.

    Mersie.

    She sat next to the window near the bed, an Iremian wood pipe in her hand. Blue herbs burned inside the bowl, filling the air with a fruity smell. Though these were my rooms, my ex-lover satfortably against the sill as if she owned the ce.

    Do you want some? she offered me the pipe while exhaling an azure breath. Calmflowers soothe the nerves.

    I rarely smoked but I was so exhausted that I weed the pipe nheless. The smoke tasted of spicy mint when I inhaled it. It did help ease the weight on my mind.

    Your guards leave much to be desired, Mersie warned me, her eyes ncing at Snowdrifts shadow beyond the window. They didnt hear me sneak in.

    I gave them orders to let you in anyway, I replied after closing the door. I knew her all too well.

    My answer drew an amused smile from Mersie, though it didntst long. Im leaving Snowdrift soon, she whispered. For Erebia.

    I expected as much. Youre going after this Chronius?

    Given time, I will find him. Mersie turned to face me, her eyes squinting slightly. You coulde with me. Erebia is a beautiful ce.

    I denied her. Too many people need me here.

    I know. From her sigh of disappointment, Mersie had expected my answer while hoping for another against all odds. Do you truly think you can turn this countrys fortunes around?

    I do. I had to. Belgoroth and his kind couldnt be allowed to win. I could use your help.

    Mersie smiled as she swiped the pipe out of my hand. We dance well together.

    Yes, we do. Even against my better judgment. Will you stay if I ask you to?

    Mersie inhaled the smoke. For a moment, she genuinely appeared to mull over my proposal. It would be difficult to get over the lies, the secrets, everything, but if she agreed to stay I would be willing to try. To start over.

    Mersie had told me she had almost considered dropping her quest to start over with me in Snowdrift, only to decide against it at thest second. In the end, history repeated itself.

    I cant, Robin. Mersie sighed, as if struggling not to change her mind, before shaking her head. Not until my family can finally rest.

    Will killing Chronius achieve it? I asked her. What happens if you seed?

    Mersie looked away. I didnt need to be the Inquisitor to tell me she didnt know herself. Would one more body be enough to let her heart heal? I wasnt so sure. She had dedicated her life to a grim goal, but never considered what she would do after reaching it.

    <em>It cant work,</em> I thought. <em>Us. Not now. Not under these circumstances.</em>

    We could both tell it. Mersie set her pipe aside, then took a step towards me. My hands moved to her waist at the same time her own arms coiled around my neck. Her lips tasted of mint, of spice and danger. Neither of us needed to say a word.

    We knew the music by heart.

    When I woke up, Mersie was gone.

    The bed still smelled of her perfume, and the sheets were still warm. She left no note, no other message than the smoking pipe on my bedsidea smell of what could have been.

    Mersie had opened the window on her way out. Perhaps she even jumped through it. I approached the sill and let the wind flow on my face. The sun rose behind the horizon, bathing Snowdrift in its light. I nced at distant Mount Erebia, the Goddessnd. Mersie and her retainer were probably on the road to climb it. Mersie would pursue thest of her parents killers to the very apex of the world if needed.

    I hoped she would find what she was looking for and peace too.

    My own war had only begun.

 Chapter Twenty: Battle Council

    Chapter Twenty: Battle Council

    The war deration arrived early in the morning.

    I knew what to expect the moment I saw the Regents wax seal on the letter. Of course, it wasnt an official notice of battles toe; only a list of uneptable demands that would inevitably guarantee them.

    I did a quick calction when I first held the cursed piece of paper. Whitethrone was, what, half a hundred leagues away from Snowdrift? For the messenger bird to deliver its package so early, the Regent must have sent it before dawn. This plot had been a long-time brewing.

    Rnd immediately convened an emergency council in the banquet hall to discuss the situation. All heroes present were invited, alongside Therese, ire, Duke Sigismund, Minister Leclerc, and a few other important noble faces I had seen at the ball. Most of us answered the call, though with a few noticeable exceptions.

    The Assassin wont be among us today? Rnd asked me after offering me a ce to his left. His squire, Sebastian, stood behind his master like a shadow.

    She has already left the city, I replied. One of the guards already confirmed to me that Mersie and her butler had been seen boarding a ferry ship earlier this morning. I suspect shes halfway to Erebia by now.

    Erebia? Rnd scowled. A shame. I would have weed her assistance.

    So would I, but Mersie had her own demons to fight. We would have to save Archfrost without her.

    I nced at the people gathered around the table. Duke Sigismund, Therese, and Minister Leclerc had ck spots beneath their eyes. They must have spent the best part of the night negotiating alliances with other nobles or confirming their support for Rnd in the conflict toe. Marika appeared just as tired; she and Colmar had worked around the clock to both deal with Florences victims and the Blights containment. Only Soraseo appeared well-rested.

    ire worried me the most. I had managed to transfer the burden of her injuries onto a cultist prisoner eager to avoid execution, so she arrived at the meeting with functioning arms and the most morose face I had ever seen. She was paler than chalk, her hand clenching her swords hilt. Therese immediately whispered into her friends ear when she joined her at the table, but ire hardly responded. Whatever truth Cortaner helped her uncover had clearly shaken her to her core. I made a note to confront her in private about it after the meeting.

    Finally, Eris was too busy running errands for Rnd and me to attend the meeting. I doubted she would return before the councils end.

    Thank you all foring, Prince Rnd dered once we had all seated ourselves. I will not mince words. My uncle, Clovis, has seized control of the capital and ordered the arrest of Duke Sigismund, which I cannot abide.

    The Duke snorted in anger. Princess Therese and I stand used of holding the prince hostage in a foreign-backed plot to take control of Archfrost on behalf of the Everbright Empire, he exined, his words dripping with disgust. Vile nder, all of it. My brother has gonepletely mad.

    What did you expect, Lord Sigismund? Minister Leclerc scoffed. Naked power grabs seed better when dressed up in pretty pretexts.

    No prison can hold the Knight, Soraseo said with a warriors respect. Who would have enough ignorance to believe these lies?

    Few, Therese replied calmly, but the Regent has catered to many over the years. They will stand by his side to preserve their own privileges.

    Unfortunately, she had a point. If Rnds uncle felt confident enough to fight back against the heroes, then he was either aplete fool or he had gathered the support of a broad coalition of allies. We would no doubt find Knots and demons among them.

    The Regent is asking us to surrender Prince Rnd back to his custody, alongside his fianc and other uncle, I summarized the letters content. Moreover, his message orders, I quote, <em>for all lords of the realm, from Walbourg to Snowdrift, to support him in this time of need.</em>

    <em>From Walbourg to Snowdrift.</em> Prince Rnd clenched his fists in restrained rage. My uncle asked that traitor Griselda to send him troops.

    I had expected something like that. Rnd would not just marry Therese; <em>Archfrost </em>would marry the <em>Everbright Empire</em>. This match would form an alliance between the two nations, the kind that included military support.

    I had no doubt the rebels in Walbourg could see the blood on the walls. They might feel confident in holding their fortified border with Archfrost, but imperial troops attacking from the south would trap them between a rock and a hard ce.

    Henceforth, their best bet was to support Duke Clovis coup. No doubt he promised to recognize their independence and give up Archfrosts im on theirnds in return for their military assistance.

    Rnd and I exchanged nces with our fellow heroes. Marika, who had remained silent so far, gulped and dared to speak out loud what we were all thinking. Does that mean we will have to fight the Cavalier?

    I doubt it, I replied. Shes Walbourgs best line of defense. They will keep her in reserve in case the Regents coup fails to build up support. Or at least, thats how I would proceed in the rebels ce.

    We should march at once, my Prince, Sebastian suggested. The Regents tenure has been nothing short of a disaster, and now his words are straight up treason!

    My son speaks wisely, Your Majesty, Minister Leclerc agreed with a short nod. The swifter we strike, the weaker your enemys position.

    Duke Sigismund supported the n too. Your Majesty, a word from you and I shall call my banners. The north will fight at yourmand.

    You have allies outside Archfrost too, Therese pointed out. I can contact my sister for reinforcements.

    I shot down the idea. It would only give credence to the Regents lies. Even if we win, a king that relies on a foreign power to win his throne will never earn his subjects respect.

    Lord Waybright is right, this is an Archfrostian internal matter, Minister Leclerc added, staring at Rnd. Your Majesty must take back Whitethrone with the forces at hand. Besides, if all the heroes gather behind you

    Cortaner immediately rebuffed him. I shall take no part in this political squabble.

    Many eyes turned in his direction, though none as concerned as Prince Rnds. What does that mean?

    The Fatebinder ordered me to deal with the Knots, demons, and nothing more, Lord Knight, Cortaner replied, standing his ground. I will assist in purging this nation of cultists, but I care not which man sits on an iron chair, nor will I fight your own citizens.

    Soraseo frowned back. Rnd is a fellow hero. Heroes should fight as one.

    The Cavalier stands on the other side of this conflict, Cortaner stated bluntly. His own vassal ss.

    Prince Rnds hands tightened on his chairs arm folds, but he said nothing. Cortaners rebuke had taken the wind out of his sails.

    Vassal sses were meant to assist the great ss they were beholden to. I didnt think it was a coincidence that Colmar, Marika, and I found each other so quickly. Fate subtly guided us to Snowdrift so that we may unveil Belgoroths machinations. We worked together seamlessly, without any hurdles or interpersonal conflict.

    We were friends.

    In contrast, Rnd found himself with one of his vassals fighting for the opposing side. His mark identified him as the Knight, but this situation threatened his legitimacy the same way the Priest being a Reformist undermined confidence in the Arcane Abbey. Everyone could see something was wrong or that the other side had a point.

    And from the way Rnd clenched his jaw, struggling to find his words, he had a hard time fathoming it. I remembered the way he had called for Florences execution before we could extract any information from her, or the barely-restrained disdain in his eyes whenever rebels were mentioned.

    I supposed that when a Knight believed in their causes righteousness, everyone disagreeing with them started to look like traitors to be cut down.

    My eyes wandered to Soraseo, who mirrored her fellow hero in many ways. Two warriors with their hearts in the right ce, but who would rather fight problems than talk back to them.

    That was <em>my </em>job.

    It is almost certain that the Knots helped engineer this entire conflict, I argued back with Cortaner.

    The Knots might have helped increase tensions, Lord Merchant, Cortaner conceded, but this conflict has festered for decades. This countrys issues run deeper than a few demons malice.

    <em>Hes not wrong</em>, I thought. The Knots only exploited a situation that long-preceded them. The differences and rivalries between Archfrosts southern and northern provinces had gued it since its unification.<em> But hes missing the forest for the trees.</em>

    A long war will also empower Belgoroth, I insisted. Which in turn will spread more Blights and destruction. It is in the worlds interest that Archfrost stabilizes as quickly as possible; even if you do not fight, voicing your support for Rnd alone would inspire confidence and reduce bloodshed.

    I knew my arguments had reached Cortaner when he did not respond immediately. I was starting to understand how his mind worked. The Inquisitor was harsh, blunt, and ruthless but not inflexible. He could admit his wrongs.

    He wouldnt have joined the Penitent Ones otherwise.

    I will defer to the Fatebinders judgment, Cortaner finally decided. If she orders the inquisition to fight on the Knights behalf, I shall do my duty.

    Good, Prince Rnd said, now a little more rxed than before. I have already asked Lady Eris to deliver the news to Lady Alexios. I hope to receive her blessing.

    We can do better than that, my Prince. Minister Leclerc joined his hands together. The first king of Archfrost was crowned by the Fatebinder of his time in Whitethrone.

    Colmars head suddenly perked up. You wish to invite her to Archfrost?

    Once we retake the capital, the minister rified.

    That is a great idea, minister, Prince Rnd admitted with a thin smile. But the Fatebinder rarely leaves Holy Erebia, and such a ceremony hasnt been held since our countrys founding.

    Neither has a hero ascended to the throne since, the man replied with a chuckle. Who would dare to contest Your Majestys right to rule Archfrost after the Goddess chosen crowns you before the entire realm?

    It would cement your legitimacy, Rnd, I conceded. It is a terrific idea in more ways than one.

    Colmar, who couldnt care less for politics, exchanged a look with me. He had his doubts about the Fatebinder since the moment Eris confirmed that she kept secrets from us. I too had many questions for her, especially when it came to the Demon Ancestors.

    This would be an opportunity to finally obtain the answers we sought.

    I studied Minister Leclerc and his amiable smile. I had seen his type often in the Rivend Federation. The unassuming bureaucrat, neither well-born nor wealthy, who whispered into the ears of the powerful. The best of them worded their suggestions so subtly that their noble patrons believed that they hade up with their ideas on their own. At the same time, these shadowy assistants discreetly moved their pieces into ce and slowly integrated their families into long-term positions. Few could boast about having a kings squire for a son. All in all, he represented a perfect example of social mobility. I could admire that.

    So why did he feel off?

    Something about the man rubbed me the wrong way; yet I couldnt pinpoint what. His eyes, so pale and gray, felt familiar to me. Did we meet before? I could have sworn I had first seen him riding behind Rnd. I tried to remember a man with his eyes and came up with nothing.

    A detail escaped me, but what?

    Moreover, we could organize your wedding to Lady Therese at the same time, Minister Leclerc added. This would reassure your subjects that the House of Archfrost stands strong.

    While his squares face might have been made of stone, Prince Rnd simply shifted on his chair. True he trailed off, clearly uneasy. I hadnt considered a wedding so early

    My eyes shifted from Rnd to Therese, who neither voiced her opposition nor agreement to the wedding. Though she kept a stoic expression, I knew she was secretly pondering her options.

    Beneath her pleasant demeanor, Therese hid a great deal of ambition. She wanted to be queen, and being married to her generations Knight was only the icing on the cake. She hadnt stayed over a decade away from her homnd to settle in obscurity, but she was smart enough to sense something was wrong with this arrangement.

    <em>This is going to be a problem</em>, I thought.

    Poor Marika misread the princes unease for shyness. The two of you would make for a beautiful couple, sheplimented him and Therese, oblivious to the clues at hand.

    Thank you, Lady Marika, Rnd replied, his cheeks flushing. Im embarrassed.

    This discussion is Soraseo searched for the correct word. Pre premeditated?

    Premature? Colmar suggested.

    Yes. This discussion is premature. Soraseo nodded to herself, deeply proud of her own progress at picking up Archfrostian grammar. We must retake the capital first, <em>then </em>n for tomorrow.

    Agreed, Rnd replied. I have been convinced. I wish to march on Whitethrone as soon as possible. He nced at the assembly. Can I count on your support?

    I nodded alongside Duke Sigismund, Soraseo, Marika, and a few others. Colmar wasnt among them.

    Unfortunately, Your Majesty, matters rted to the Blight demand that I stay in Snowdrift, the Alchemist said. I can help prepare supplies, but Im afraid I cannot leave the city yet.

    Understandable, Rnd replied, his eyes turning to ire. What of you, Lady Brynslow?

    ire did not respond. In fact, I suddenly realized that she hadnt said a word since the meeting started. She sat in silence, her gray eyes staring into the void and trying to glimpse a truth that evaded her.

    She was <em>not </em>well.

    ire? Therese asked, her eyebrows furrowing in worry.

    Her friends voice jolted ire out of her thoughts. My apologies, she said after quickly regaining herposure. I will send troops to assist Your Majesty. However

    I watched her gathering her breath with apprehension. Her hesitation raised plenty of rm bells in my head. ire had always been decisive and eager to fight her problems. She had been so determinedst night, so <em>unyielding</em>.

    What happened?

    I cannot leave my city for the moment, ire dered. I swear to Your Majesty that I will put Snowdrifts full weight behind your im. I will call my banners in your favor and mobilize our infrastructure. Its fleet, its forges everything. But I must stay here.

    Thankfully, Rnd took it graciously. Your support is appreciated, Lady Brynslow.

    I will takemand of the citys troops, Soraseo proposed. I have the expertise.

    The experience, Colmar corrected her, albeit gently. Expertise is technically correct, but experience is better in this context.

    I have the under Soraseo stopped herself, cleared her throat, and then settled on the correct pronunciation. I understand, my friend.

    I felt happy at Soraseos progress, but too worried for ire to properly enjoy it.

    The war council ended soon after. Marika, Soraseo, Therese, and I would join Rnd on his march against the capital, while Colmar and ire would stay behind in Snowdrift. The city would serve as the rallying point for the princes supporters and a logistical hub to supply his army. Finally, Cortaner would wait for the Fatebinders orders beforemitting to anything.

    Snowdrift bing a rallying point for Rnds supporters somewhat excited me. While it would make it a target for his enemies, much wealth and many powerful people would gravitate towards it. This would improve its economy, both in the short and long-term. People came and left, but the money they spent would remain.

    While I wanted to remain in Snowdrift and build upon these new opportunities, nipping this civil war in the bud took priority. I was confident I could help Rnd settle things in Whitethrone. I was the Merchant. The Regent might have deep pockets and allies, but I could trade time, health, and strength. I could outbid anyone. Besides, I had the feeling Therese and Rnd would need me.

    However, another friend required my assistance first.

    ire I said as we left the meeting, but she didnt let me finish.

    I need some time alone, Robin, ire said with a tired, heavy sigh. We will speakter.

    I vividly remembered the days after ires grandfather perished. She immediately visited our training ground to ask for a spar, because fighting and physical activity helped blow off stress.

    That she would instead rather retreat into herself spoke volumes about her sorrow.

    I did not insist further. Ill be there when you need me.

    I ire forced herself to smile, though it was more painful to watch than anything. I know.

    She left the council room soon alongside Rnd, Therese, and the gathered nobles to prepare the military march. I exchanged a nce with the princes fianc, who raised her chin up and down. She would look out for ire in my stead.

    Ourdy is not well, Colmar noted once only us heroes remained in the room.

    I can see that, Marika whispered. Shes like iron. Strong, but Im afraid shell break under enough pressure.

    I worried as much. I had never seen ires gray eyes brimming with such sadness before

    <em>Gray.</em>

    I froze, my head snapping to where Minister Leclerc stood. The man had already left with the prince and his son. Still, I remembered his gaze vividly. It could mean anything, but I trusted my gut.

    Cortaner, I said as I turned toward the Inquisitor. Can I pick your mind for a moment?

    If this is about Lady Brynslow, it is not my ce to say anything, Cortaner replied brusquely. If you trust her, you should wait for her to tell you what she learned in her own time.

    I know that, I replied. That man was sharper than he let on. Its about the Knots.

    My allies all looked at me, none with more intensity than Cortaner himself. I have audited everyone in this castle and arrested everyone suspected of demonic coboration, he confirmed.

    So far so good. Since Minister Leclerc is free, I assume you cleared him?

    Of demonic activities at least. Cortaner snorted behind his helmet. The man confessed to minor crimes. A little embezzlement here, a few bribes there, not to mention the strings he pulled to put his son in the princes <em>service</em>.

    Cortaners short pause at thest word was not lost on me.

    Embezzlement? Marika asked with a scowl, her friendly expression harshening. This news hit too close to home for her after what happened with her husband. Have you informed Prince Rnd of your findings?

    Yes, I have. Cortaners armored fists tightened. He decided against dismissing his minister. The man is loyal, unaffiliated with the Knots, and his transgressions are rtively minor for an official in his current position. Our Knight trusts him.

    I squinted. Do you?

    I do not trust <em>anyone</em>, Cortaner replied bluntly. Not even myself.

    A wise mindset for an inquisitorespecially <em>the </em>Inquisitorbut not one amenable to making friends. This only encouraged me further.

    Is it possible for you to medically confirm whether two people are rted? I asked Colmar.

    Yes, if I get blood samples from both parties. It didnt take long for Colmar to catch on to my n. I did extract one from Lady ire during her surgery.

    Could youpare it with a sample taken from the Princes squire? I questioned him. Say its to check for any sign of contagions from Florences gas.

    You suspect the boys father, but you do not want to confront him directly yet, Colmar guessed. Might I ask why Minister Leclerc warrants such caution?

    A hunch. And I prayed it would be no more than a false rm.

    I do not understand, Soraseo admitted. The Inquisitor turns lies into truth. How could that man lie?

    Thing is, weve seen that demons and their allies possess magical abilities that we do not fully understand yet, I replied. Chastel could turn invisible, and Florence could channel Belgoroths power. I do not want to make any assumptions.

    Overlooking Florences activities nearly cost us Snowdrift. A spy among Prince Rnds staff risked destabilizing all of Archfrost. I will take no chances.

    The improbable is not the same as the impossible, Colmar replied in agreement. Our enemies understand our powers well enough. It would be foolish of them not to devise countermeasures against the Inquisitors ability.

    My thoughts exactly. Cortaners power was a boon to our cause, but we didnt understand its full limits yet; no more than I had figured out all of the Merchant ss potential applications. Better safe than sorry.

    I also couldnt discount the possibility that Florences intel might be inurate. The Knot of Greeds leader might have fed her disinformation to further divide us.

    You are wiser than you let on, Lord Merchant, Cortanerplimented me in his cold, distant way. Wiser than our Knight.

    I dont understand why Rnd would keep that man around, Marikained. A minor crook is still a crook.

    The princes position is currently precarious, Colmar guessed. I suppose he would rather wait to secure it first.

    It could understand Rnds point of view. The prince didnt need more potential enemies inside his own state administration for the moment. He probably intended to clean the house once safely crowned as Archfrosts king.

    I hoped. Another part of me offered a more cynical exnation: that Minister Leclerc was kept around because his son was the princes confidant.

    Corruption and nepotism were the death of nations. I hadnt worked so hard to clean up Snowdrift and Ermeline to see the same abuses perpetrated among Archfrosts upper echelons. If Rnd and I couldnt see eye to eye on the matter, I would have to put my foot down.

    A sh of light suddenly filled the room. Soraseo immediately drew her sword on instinct while Cortaner tensed up. I half-expected Eris to pop up in a cloud of smoke, only to find myself staring at a small wooden box sitting atop the council table.

    Oh, finally. I rejoiced upon opening the package and finding a paper with the word Seukaia written on it. I was wondering if and when these would arrive.

    The mark on my hand shone as two more small boxes materialized in the room. Soraseo lowered her weapon upon realizing we werent in danger, though she appeared especially curious. Are these gifts, Robin?

    Gifts to myself, I mused upon checking the box contents. To my disappointment, the box including the<em> Everbright Empire </em>note did not contain anything else. Do you remember the discussion we had on my powers range?

    Marika chuckled. Must we expect a fortress to pop up in our living room?

    Unfortunately not, I replied with a sigh of dismay. Ive tried to teleport a house by purchasing it earlier, to no avail.

    Now consumed by curiosity, Colmar opened the boxes and confirmed that they all included a note with a location name on it. Oh, very clever, hemented. You gave Eris boxes with contracts and asked her to deliver them to her contacts across the world.

    Exactly, I confirmed as a fourth and final box teleported in. In the documents, I offer to buy back the boxes to the other party alongside all their content for a silver coin each.

    <em>Seukaia</em>? Soraseos expression soured when she read the associated note. This box came from the other side of the world.

    As far as I can tell, my powers teleportation effect has no range limit, I said while checking the fourth and final box. It contained a note with the words Fire Inds and a pile of seashells. Very interesting. It can transport goods across any distance, albeit with a few caveats. My current guess is that when ites to physical objects, my power can teleport any object that counts as transportable. Ive seeded in teleporting a wagon earlier, but not a house.

    Makes sense, Marika said. When most people buy a home, they partly do so for the location.

    Two of these boxes were also supposed to contain animals, I added. I had explicitly asked for a cat if possible, though I could have settled for mice or bugs. Since no living creatures arrived, it appears my power considers thempletely separate from whatever container currently holds them.

    No one should own another living being, Cortanermented with a disdainful grunt.

    I nodded sharply. I suppose humans and animals must consent to be sold to be moved away.

    Marika visibly shivered. That sounds like very to me, Robin.

    Hence why Im not pushing the issue further, I replied. I worry that my power might either harm people or worse if I try to buy them. It has often interpreted mymands in lethal ways.

    Moreover, I feared that buying people would result in my markshing out the same way it did when I tried to purchase a soul. Eris had been clear that would be my only warning. Another transgression against the ss ethical constraints meant death.

    This is an incredible discovery nheless, Colmarmented upon checking the box with the seashells. If you draft a contract that specifically lets you buy anything a chest contains, then it will let you transport supplies across vast distances.

    Perhaps the Frostfox Company should open a delivery service, I mused, half-joking and half-serious. With a catalog of products.

    Merchandise from remote ces such as Seukaia or the Fire Inds took months to travel to countries like Archfrost, when they arrived at all. Pirates, storms, embargoes, and banditry caused many long-distance ventures to fail, or increase their prices tenfold. Judicious applications of my power would let me side-step these issues.

    I smelled immense profits on the horizon if I yed my cards right.

    A puff of smoke filled the council room, and Eris familiar face emerged from it. Oh, I see the deliveries arrived early, she said, a leathery bag full of scrolls hanging from her back. Wheres mymission, Robin?

    How about we discuss it over dinner? I asked. I had promised it for a long time, and tonight might be myst night in Snowdrift for a while. Moreover, I needed a distraction after Mersies departure.

    Mayhaps, mayhaps, Eris replied evasively, as she always did. By now I was certain that she struggled with formallymitting to <em>anything</em>. She grabbed a scroll from her bag and handed it to Cortaner. Ive got mail for you from the top, Corty.

    Cortaner grabbed the document without a word and swiftly unfolded it. I noticed the Arcane Abbeys wax seal on the paper.

    The Fatebinder has ordered the Arcane Abbey to fully mobilize for Prince Rnds cause, Cortaner dered with a in, factual tone. I have been entrusted with his safety.

    I did not think the Knight required a bodyguard, but the Inquisitors presence would help Rnd nheless.

    I have great news, Colmar, Eris said as she presented him with a letter of his own. The Mage agreed to your request.

    The Mage?

    My head wasnt the only one that perked up in interest. Soraseo, Marika, Eris, and I gathered around Colmar as he unfolded the letter. It was written in perfect Archfrostian, though the somewhat shaky letters told me the author wasnt a native speaker.<blockquote><em>Dear Alchemist,</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>A world might separate us, but when ites to meetings of the mind, distance is only an illusion.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Mrs. Brra informed me of your Blight situation and your n to solve it. I believe I can indeed help you with it. As the Mage, my ability to alter essence trumps that of any witchcrafter alive. It happens that I currently live near a Sanctuary. I can charge your runestones to the brim with positive essence in a few days time. Mrs. Brra only needs to deliver them to me.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>However, I must warn you that while your method is likely to destroy the Blight, it will cause severe pushback. A Blight is a living being in many ways. A disease whose only instinct is to spread its evil to all that it can touch. When confronted with the tools of its execution, this gue will fight back with all of its strength and malice. Monsters will pour out of its depths in onest hurrah. I strongly suggest that you prepare ordingly.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>If I can do anything else to ease your burden, please let me know. I would be deeply interested in a report of your progress on the matter. If you and your friends ever visit the Stonnds, or if I travel westward, let us meet for tea. I am always eager to meet a fellow schr.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>With warm regards,</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Professor Chandraj Bhatt</em></blockquote>

    <em>The</em> Professor Bhatt? Marika gasped in shock. Chandraj Bhatt is the Mage?

    Whom? I asked with a confused frown. He sounded important, but the name didnt ring a bell.

    Marika immediately stared at me as if I had grown a second head. Chandraj Bhat! she repeated, her astonishment growing when I failed to identify him. One of the co-writers of the <em>Unified Essence Theory: A Modern Analysis of the Universe</em>! A book every professional witchcrafter has read!

    A pity I wasnt one. Still, the high esteem in which Marika held him inspired confidence.

    Professor Chandraj is known to me too, Colmar said with a deep, respectful tone. He has written excellent treatises on monster biology and essence-rted medical treatments. He is without a doubt one of the greatest schrs alive today.

    Hes currently in the Stonnds investigating dusty old ruins, Eris said with a light chuckle. And dealing with surges in monster activities.

    Half a world might separate us indeed, but I was d that even remote ces had a hero to defend them.

    He said you had found a way to destroy the Blight? I questioned Colmar. How so?

    Marika suggested a potential solution, Colmar replied modestly. Blights areposed of sinful essence and disappear when washed away by a constant flow of positive feelings.

    Which were producing by renovating Snowdrift, I said, following his reasoning so far. Which takes time.

    Marika and Inquisitor Gunndra sessfully slowed down the Blights progression by building a perimeter of sealing runestones, Colmar continued. I believe we can potentially destroy it with a more radical form of shock therapy: dropping huge quantities of runestones rich in more positive essence directly into its core.

    Its a method Ive experimented with to purify cursed weapons, Marika confirmed. But the quantities required to destroy a Blight would be unfathomable.

    Colmar nodded. I have been able to transform matter into empty runestones with my power, but charging them has proved to be an issue. We would need ess to a dozen Sanctuaries and an army of witchcrafters, not to mention months of preparation.

    So you considered asking the Mage for help, I whispered. That ss manipted essence better than anyone alive. Thats ingenious.

    Unfortunately, I cant transport tons of runestones on my own, Eris said, smiling at me. Not without you, my dear Robin.

    I joined my hands, a n forming in my mind. I can draft a contract selling the runestones to Professor Bhatt, then a second to buy them back after he has sessfully finished refining them.

    This would let us transport the material to the Stonnds back and forth, Colmar concluded. Then we can purge the Blight for good.

    This will sound the horn of battle, Soraseo pointed out. We cannot fight two wars at once.

    Agreed, I said. We can proceed with this operation after securing the capital. Even the Mage said it would take him time to charge the runestones anyway.

    Im looking forward to it. Marika smiled ear to ear. If it works, Snowdrift will finally be safe.

    It was hard to describe how happy and relieved I felt then. We finally had a chance to lift the curse that Belgoroth had cast on my hometown.

    No matter how many clouds gathered on the horizon, the light still shone through.

 Chapter Twenty-One: Silver Sky

    Chapter Twenty-One: Silver Sky

    Eris arrivedte to our date.

    Of course, I had anticipated that and acted ordingly. I had put the pie in the oven twenty minuteste, practiced slicing meat with my new dagger, and spent time filling more contracts while waiting for her. I had so much work to do with theing civil war, and each second counted.

    At least Eris had changed clothes for the asion, abandoning her nun outfit for a golden wool sweater, a ck skirt reaching all the way to her ankles, and a white scarf. It was a nice outfit, the kind one would wear at home or outside on holidays. I liked it. It would make our date feel more casual, almost rxing.

    Whats cookin, good lookin? Eris teased me on arrival. Smells good to me.

    A fish pie prepared with rye with a dash of pork, cheesecake, and a salmon sd, I replied as I loaded the food tters onto our ship. Plus honeyed drinks and pastries.

    Robin, you devil, are you trying to tempt me into ruining my slim figure? Eris put a hand on her waist as she examined our dates chosen location. And what kind of boat is this?

    I couldnt me her for being surprised. Marikas newest creation was a strange and beautiful marvel, a long and sleek gond of dark mahogany wood. A colossal, essence-reinforced silky balloon envelope filled with hot air was tethered to it by an intricate system of ropes and pulleys. A delicate alchemical furnace of steel and brass glittered at the stern alongside a helix, pipes rising from its surface to connect to the balloon. I had set up a small wooden table for us to eat and cushions to sit on.

    The fantastical kind, I replied while checking the sky. The day was almost done and the sun would soon vanish beyond the horizon. Perfect timing. Now, if mydy would take a seat.

    I gantly offered my hand to Eris, which she took into her own with a lightugh. Her fingers were smooth to the touch and smelled of mint perfume. She had put on skin oils. I took it as a good sign.

    Did Marika build it? Eris asked with giddy curiosity. She sat on her cushion like a queen on her throne, her gaze wandering around to inspect every area of the ship.

    She did most of the work, though Colmar and I put in our fair share. I pointed at the silky balloon. I reinforced the envelope with iron essence myself, to increase its durability.

    Oh? Eris scratched her cheek slightly. So if the balloon explodes, I will have you to me for it?

    I wouldnt be looking forward to that oue if I were you, I replied as I took my ce next to her. After lifting the ships anchor, I pulled the furnace''s lever. See for yourself.

    The alchemical engine let out a roar as the runestones within it heated up. Colorful fumes erupted from its pipes and filled the balloon with grant steam. The boat shook beneath us, its weight shifting, and the docks sank into the waters below.

    Or at least, it looked that way to me. A nce over the handrail showed that the world around us hadnt changed one bit; instead, our ship had moved higher.

    No way Eris put a hand on her mouth, her eyes widening in excitement. She looked on with amazement as the boat levitated above the water. Incredible

    I chuckled. You havent seen anything yet.

    I lowered more levers, the silk balloon growing and straining under the pressure building up within itself. The ship floated up, slowly but inevitably. We ascended past house windows and the faces of astonished neighbors, and then we moved over roofs the next. The helix at the ships back turned on itself, pushing us forward.

    This was nothing like a bird flying, nor like a fast-paced race atop a pegasus. It was a peaceful, gentle promenade with the asional bump. While we were skidding on winds rather than water currents, I would hardly call the experience different than a normal gond trip. At least, until I nced over at the tapestry of colors called Snowdrift sprawling beneath us.

    Even though I had carefully sold away part of my fears of heights, seeing the city under us filled me with both dread and excitement. The world looked so wonderful from the heavens above; but should I fall over by ident, the view from halfway down wouldnt seem so beautiful.

    The sea of tents forming outside the city walls only added to its color. Local nobles had answered Rnds call to arms by sending their troops. Our infrastructure struggled to adapt to this sudden influx of neers, so most of them had to stay outside Snowdrift for the time being.

    Eris didnt share my fear of heights. She was smiling ear to ear, her hand raised in an attempt to catch passing clouds. She giggled to herself when a small raven passed by us.

    Do you take <em>all </em>your dates to the heavens, Robin? Eris breath turned into mist as she spoke. For a reason that escaped me, the higher we ascended, the colder the air became.

    Only naughty nuns and holy virgins, I teased her.

    Youre a few years toote for thest part. She winked at me with a mischievous smirk. But perhaps not for the naughty part.

    Duly noted, I replied with the same flirtatious tone. Besides, arent holy men and women said to ascend to the Goddess side when they die?

    Thats what folktales say, but pure or dirty we all end up in the Soulforge. Death treats us all equally. Eris nced over the ships handrail. How far up can it go?

    Two miles so far, I replied. Colmar believes we can raise the bar to three, maybe four, though I would prefer to increase the ships size rather than its altitude.

    Wise, Erismented. Do you know whats the mostmon job in Erebia?

    Porters. I had done my research. Horses arent well-suited for the mountainous terrain.

    Of course you would know, cunning Merchant that you are. Eris let out puffs of mists from her mouth, trying to shape them into circles. You cant fathom how tiresome the Arcane Abbeys logistics are in the region. A wingboat service would corner the delivery market in no time.

    I had considered that possibility too. This new technology would revolutionize countless markets. However, I had the feeling it would mostly see military applications in the near future. Rnd and I had already discussed using this device for scouting, reconnaissance, and infiltration.

    Wingboat? I repeated, slightly amused by the term.

    What did <em>you </em>intend to call it? Eris met my gaze. An <em>airship</em>?

    I scowled immediately. You make it sound ridiculous.

    Oh my, you <em>were </em>going to call it an airship! Eris shook her head in mock disappointment. Thats just inzy, Robin.

    I prefer to call it <em>efficient</em>, I replied while drawing my dagger to cut the food. Besides, do you see wings on this boat?

    True, but balloon-boat doesnt ring well to my ears. Eris raised an eyebrow upon seeing my weapon. Is that a new dagger?

    I broke the first one against Chastel, I confessed while slicing the fish pie. Im still trying to infuse it with fire essence the way you did with thest one.

    Good luck. It took me years of practice to seed. Eris grabbed the salmon sd bowl for herself. But then again, I couldnt bribe my way to sess yet.

    I chuckled. Yet?

    I gosh rushshtones Eris swallowed her food with a loud gulp, sparing me the need to trante. Its much easier to practice essence transfer with high-quality Iremian runestones. They cost their weight in gold, but theyre worth every coin.

    I believed her. Irem had earned its reputation as the foremost center of the witchcrafting arts. Most modern essence-based technologies originated from their desert cities and sorcerous academies. Perhaps I will visit it next, once peace returns to Archfrost, I said. It should be easy to find a retired witchcrafter willing to sell me their skills. The whole country is full of them.

    Eris shook her head. If you ask me, you should leave for the Everbright Empire.

    Oh? That wouldnt have been my first choice, though I admit I was a bit curious to see Thereses homnd. Whys that?

    Because it offers many opportunities for a talented Merchant such as you, and the Rogue lives there too. Im sure the two of you would hit it off. Eris let out a moan of pleasure upon tasting my fish pie. So good.

    Thank you, I said. Arent the Rogue and I meant to be rivals though?

    Rival sses arent natural enemies, Eris replied. Both the Rogue and the Merchant fight for justice and themon people. Its just their methods that differ. The Merchant stands with thew, the Rogue distrusts it.

    So we oppose each other.

    Or you <emplete </em>each other. Its all a question of perspective.

    She might have a point. While I strongly believed the world needed fairws and proper rulership, I had seen enough corruption in Ermeline to not ce my full faith in either. When corrupt authorities wrote the rules, sometimes fighting for themon good meant bing a criminal.

    Still, I would always favor reforming institutions over tearing them down. The Walbourg rebellion had shown the perils of violent revolution. Themon man deserved better than being sacrificed in the name of ephemeral ideals.

    Have you ever heard of rut, mate, kill? Eris suddenly asked me in between two bites.

    I havent, I confessed.

    Its a beastman game, Eris exined. I name a person, and you must say whether you would rather sleep with them, marry them, or kill them.

    I suppressed augh. Doesnt the second option include the first by default?

    Not always, it doesnt, Eris mused. Come on, Robin, its a silly game. Dont look too much into it.

    Fine, fine, Ill indulge you. I sipped a cup of warm tea. This one came from the Everbright Empire andcked the fruity Seukaian vor I hade to love deeply. I couldnt wait for imports to resume again. You can start.

    How gant. Eris grinned in delight. Marika?

    My, she went straight for the jugr. Rut, then mate.

    No cheating, Robin. Eris wagged her finger at me. You can only pick one.

    I sighed and considered the matter. It was surprisingly difficult. I did find Marika desirable as a woman, but I favored her friendship andpany over any short-lived pleasure. Mate.

    Mersie?

    <em>Mate</em>, I thought. Rut, I said.

    Did you do thatst night? Eris put a hand on my arm and whispered conspiratorially into my ear. Confess your sins to me, Robin. Youll feel better afterward.

    I <em>knew </em>it was just an excuse to gather gossip. Yeah, we spent the night together, I confessed. She left in the morning without a word.

    Eris smirk faded away, though she didnt look all that surprised. She didnt pester me for details, though I did give them by myself. It was nice to have a listening ear.

    It was good while itsted, I said. But I dont think well work as a couple. Not now, perhaps not ever. Mersie has her own demons to fight.

    Dont we all? Eris nced at the iing twilight. The sun had started descending behind the horizon, slowly spreading a red taint across the sky. You know, Robin, Ivee to a conclusion over the years: each persons life is a road.

    I listened without a word, basking in the warm sunlight. I squinted upon noticing a shadow passing over the horizon and moving north. I mistook it for a bird at first, until I noticed the four silver legs and hooves.

    Was that Silverine? I didnt know she had recovered enough to fly. Not to mention that she appeared to carry a rider on her back, who could only be ire. What was she doing at this hour so far away from the castle at this hour?

    Eris voice drew me out of my thoughts. Sometimes those roads cross and meet, she said. They can align for years on end, but inevitably, theyll start to diverge at one point. The people walking them change with each bump on the path. You can spend a lifetime with someone, until one day you look at them and realize theyre no longer the person you used to know.

    Or they stayed the same, I whispered. But youre the one who changed without realizing it.

    Thats life, Robin. Eris shrugged. Be happy that it happened, but dont look back. The past is dead. All that exists is straight ahead.

    Im not sure I agree. I nced at the mountains on the horizon, and the icy peaks of Archfrost. My homnd I had left a decade ago, only to return to now. You cant outrun your past.

    And what will it do other than bring you down with regrets and nostalgia? Eris shrugged and forced a smile onto her lips. Anyway, lets go back to the truly important subject. Colmar?

    Our current discussion made her feel ufortable, and she wasnt ready to open up yet. I supposed I should give her time. We didnt know each other all that well yet, after all.

    Mate, I replied without hesitation. Rut was heavilypromised, and killing was out of the question. I liked him too much.

    That is so cute. Eris grabbed her own cup. Soraseo?

    Mate. Same reasoning as Marika.

    Good answer. Cortaner?

    I would say kill, but its more of a pass than anything.

    Rnd?

    I considered it a bit longer. I didnt feel attracted to himor by men in generalbut he was nice enough. Mate, I suppose?

    Erisughed so hard she spit out her drink. You know, she said while wiping her lips, when I asked him that question, he gave a very different answer.

    I had an inkling as to what Rnd said, which made me a little ufortable. Is he

    Fucking his squire? Eris shrugged her shoulders. Of course he is.

    As I thought. Arent you supposed to keep everybodys secrets, Eris?

    I am, but Rnd is doing a poor job of keeping his own. Eris looked away, her expression suddenly darkening. He doesnt show it, but he feels terribly lonely. He needs friends.

    Ill do my best to help him, I promised for both his sake and Thereses.

    Guess its my turn then. Eris crossed her legs. Shoot.

    If you insist, I replied with amusement. I supposed we should continue with the theme of heroes. Marika?

    Rut.

    Alright Soraseo?

    Rut.

    Colmar?

    Rut.

    <em>She cant be serious. </em>I squinted at Eris. Cortaner?

    She smirked back at me. Rut.

    Cortaner? I repeated, utterly shocked. <em>Cortaner</em>?! Does his armor even make that possible?

    Im open to all experiences and I have no standards whatsoever, Eris joked back. As for the armor, I say he would have an easier time performing than Colmar.

    Point taken, I replied with a scoff. Neferoa?

    Rut, <em>savagely</em>, Eris answered with stars in her eyes. Again.

    My Goddess, she spoke from experience. You slept with the Bard?

    She swept me off my feet the moment we met, Eris replied wistfully. You wouldntst two hours in her presence.

    Now I was <em>deeply </em>curious about meeting Neferoa. Our generations Bard sounded like arger-than-life personality. How did someone like you end up a nun, Eris?

    I didnt join the priesthood, I was born into it, Eris replied with a shrug. My mother was a priestess, my dad a priest. These things arent supposed to happen, but since when have rules stamped out human desires?

    I didnt need a memo to read between the lines. She was a bastard, much like ire. You were born in a convent?

    Indeed I was. Eris set her empty te aside. We had already finished dinner. Ive spent most of my existence cloistered, so Im trying to make up for lost time.

    That exined a lot. I wondered if the Wanderers mark chose her because of her inner desire to explore the world and enjoy all the pleasures once denied to her. Her predecessors could never stay in one ce for long either.

    Did the food help? I asked her after finishing my own te.

    Well, Ive never had dinner two miles above ground. Eris smiled warmly. Of all the dates Ive shared with a boy, this one might top them all.

    For now, I replied charmingly. The next date will be even better.

    Erisughed, which I took as a very good sign. There <em>would </em>be a second date.

    If I may ask, how did you learn of a beastman game? I questioned her.

    Colmar isnt the only beastman, at least formerly, among our ranks. Eris pointed at the northern mountains, which marked the frontier between Archfrost and the vast, icy wastnds ruled by the beastmen tribes. Theres another hero fighting his own battles far beyond those piles of rocks. Hes quite friendly, if extremely shy.

    I would like to meet him. My stomach soured as a heavy thought crossed my mind. Eris?

    Yes, my dear Robin?

    How do you think mankind could make peace with the beastmen?

    Eris straightened up. I half-expected her to joke about the matter, but she gave the subject a considerable amount of thought.

    I dont know, she admitted after a while. Why the question?

    As far as I remember, Ive been raised in fear of beastmen invasions. Archfrost had spent all of its existence either repelling raiders or hordesing from the north, to the point previous kings fortified every inch of the border. I never truly questioned it. As far as everyone was concerned, they were the enemy. Demon servants.

    She met my gaze. From your tone, I guess youve reconsidered?

    I did. Colmars journal, from the cruelties he encountered to the truth about how beastmen were born, had already shaken my prior assumptions. Hearing about Florences sad tale only increased my doubts. No matter what crimes shemitted, her son should never have been in by virtue of his birth alone.

    I wondered how many beastmen had suffered from simr treatment and if it helped fuel the animosity between our species.

    I dont have a ready-made solution, Robin, Eris admitted. If there was one, someone would have implemented it already. However She marked a short pause as she tried to find the right words. Have you heard of Sanctuaries?

    Of course. Although I wondered what they had to do with beastmen rights.

    When you think about it, the frontier between Sanctuaries and Blights is very thin, Eris pointed out. Both are ces infused with human emotions. One is considered a blessing and the other a curse, but they both arise from the same source.

    I crossed my arms and mulled over her words. What was she getting at?

    Now, consider anger, Robin. Anger motivates people when they are confronted with injustice. It sharply reminds them when another vites their rights and boundaries. Would you call anger evil then?

    No, I conceded. It was that same anger that convinced me to take a stand against Ermelines corruption, and then the Knots abuse. But if one leans into anger too much, it devours them from within.

    Like how hatred had consumed Florence from within until she began to kill innocent people.

    But in both cases, its the same emotion, Eris insisted. There is no fundamental difference between a blessing and a curse, only different perspectives. One mans hell is anothers paradise. Ones hero is anothers enemy.

    I scoffed in skepticism. Who would think Belgoroth is a hero?

    My, my. Eris joined her hands, a sad scowl spreading on her face. But himself, of course.

    You think he still believes himself the rightful Knight, deep down? I squinted at the fading twilight. Even as he burns cities and wages war on the very world he was meant to protect?

    Look around you, Robin. Eris waved a hand at the city below us. On one shore stood the ck Keep and noble households, and poor slums on the other. The contrast was all the more startling from above. I mean no offense to ire, but why does she get to live in a castle, while another girlnguishes in a small shack? Does it sound just to you?

    No. Nobility is a failed concept. I liked individual nobles, but not the system as a whole. But disliking something is not a reason to tear it all down at the cost of innocent lives.

    Perhaps not, but think about it. Eris scratched the mark on her cheek. Our sses have been around for, what, seven hundred years? Maybe longer? For all the good theyve done, we still have war, poverty, famines, and herpes.

    No magic in the world can change human nature, I pointed out.

    Maybe its a lesson Belgoroth refused to learn, Eris replied. Or maybe, just maybe, he woke up one day and realized he had lost all faith in his fellow man.

    Perhaps Eris meant it as sarcasm, but her point did give me pause nheless. I remembered vividly the rage in Rnds eyes whenever the subject of Florence, the Knots, or the Walbourg rebels came up. His fury came from a good ce, yet I wondered if he could temper it with wisdom.

    Mayhaps the same seed of darkness that corrupted Belgoroth slumbered within Rnds heart.

    After all I had nearly bought a soul myself, like the Devil of Greed before me. I tried that without understanding the consequences because I wanted to understand my power better. I tried to bend thews of life and death for the sake of my own curiosity.

    And while I told myself I would have used that power for a good cause over time, it would have corrupted me. Somewhere down the line, it would have been easy to stop seeing people as people and instead just as assets to manipte. Humans would have be just another product with a price tag attached.

    None of us heroes were infallible.

    Its all about different perspectives, I figured out. Thats what you mean to tell me. If we are to achieve peace with the beastmen, we must first understand things from their point of view. Otherwise, nopromise will hold.

    You catch on quickly, handsome, she teased me.

    Honestly, youre not teaching me anything new, I mused. I figured out the need to understand others mindsets a <em>long </em>time ago. Still, Im thankful for the reminder. Youre a lot wiser than you let on, Miss Brra.

    My, thank you, Robin. Eris put a hand on the handrail. Now I wont feel guilty about doing <em>this</em>.

    Doing wh

    Eris had jumped overboard before I could finish my sentence.

    I stared at the empty spot she used to upy for a few seconds, my mind struggling to process what just happened. Then my heartbeat suddenly quickened. I rushed to the handrail and stared into the void. I could only see a vanishing point growing smaller and smaller as it approached the ground.

    Eris! I shouted in rm. That insane fool! ERIS!

    By the time Eris vanished from my sight I heard a familiar sound behind me, followed by a cloud of smoke and the boat shaking from a sudden increase in weight. My head snapped to my side, my hands shaking with rage.

    Aha! Haha! Eris held her sides and struggled not to choke fromughter. You you should see your face!

    You madwoman! I was aghast. Even with her power, an error in her timing would have killed her! You you

    Come on, Robin, Im <em>fine</em>. Eris pinched my cheek as if I were an amusing child. Her fingers felt cold, though warmer than the chilly air around us. A, were you worried about dear old me?

    Of course I was. I squinted at her. I should have added a safety rope for children.

    Silly Robin, dont be like that. Eris hands moved to both sides of my head, her eyes shining with mischief. Is there any way I could make it up to you?

    Depends, I said with a smug smirk. My hand moved to her chin, raising it up slightly. Youve been a naughty girl, Eris and an even naughtier nun. Im not sure you deserve a return trip back to Snowdrift.

    Cant I bribe you, oh Merchant? Eris moved closer, until I could feel her warm, misty breath on my lips. Unfortunately, I dont have any coins on me right now

    My hand moved to her back and pulled her closer. I could settle for a payment in kind

    That can be arranged

    Our lips met in a passionate embrace. Eris were warmer to the touch than her fingers and tasted of mint. Her arms moved to encircle my neck as we cuddled, a jolt traveling down my spine as we did.

    The kiss was briefer and less intimate than the one I shared with Mersiest night, but no less pleasant.

    I guess its time that we I grinned ear to ear, <em>deeply </em>proud of myself. Rock the boat.

    Eris exploded intoughter and then kissed me again.

    Making love two miles above ground proved to be an exhrating experience, if somewhat nerve-wracking. Eris identally ended up kicking a te overboard at one point. I hoped it hadnt fallen on anyone.

    By the time we finished, night had long since fallen and I had the boatnd in the forests near Snowdrift. It took a while to find a t clearing without too many trees getting in the way.

    Well, that was pleasant, Eris said as she pulled up her skirt in ce and then trimmed her messy hair with her hands. Especially that thing with your tongue.

    They dont teach that at the Arcane Abbey? I jested. I used a rope to bind the boat to a nearby tree, to make sure it didnt float off by ident. I didnt think it would stay put for too long, but better safe than sorry. Im disappointed.

    No, but they do teach us how to y as the innocentmbs, Eris joked back. I pray you found my y convincing.

    I did. Eris was a lot more into kinky roley than any other woman Id been with. She managed to y the virginal, innocent nun ravished against her will quite convincingly. I admit it brought some spice to the whole endeavor. I should try something like that again.

    It helped me forget Mersie and move on. Eris had a point. I couldnt let nostalgia blind me to the future.

    Whynd in a forest of all ces? Eris whistled yfully as she jumped out of the boat. Do you want to go on a promenade?

    I have something to do before I return to Snowdrift. Or rather, someone to meet. Do you want toe along?

    Maybe another time. Eris smile grew thinner, more embarrassed. Dont take this the wrong way, Robin, but Im not looking to settle down anytime soon. Not with you or anyone else.

    My blood ran cold. I had feared she would say that. So this was a one-time thing?

    What are you saying? Eris stared at me as if I had gone mad. You promised me an even better second date. Of course Ill hold you to your oath. Well keep having fun as friends.

    Wow, she was sending me a <em>lot </em>of mixed signals. Few friends sleep together, Eris.

    Only the very good ones do, Eris replied jokingly. We both have a few of them on our side.

    In other words, neither of us should care about whom the other would sleep with. Our rtionship would be a friendship with a few more perks and nomitment of any sort, at least for now.

    Sure. I could live with it, though I wasnt giving up on finding someone to settle with. Lets be very close friends then.

    Onest thing. Eris put a hand on her slim waist. Im not your mistress; youre my lover. An important distinction.

    I see no fundamental difference. I threw her words back at her with a smirk. Only different perspectives.

    It was a lie. I knew what Eris meant. She didnt want to feel owned or tied down to anyone, even verbally.

    Eris smiled wickedly. See you around, my dear Merchant. Ill be back soon.

    She vanished, the smoke cloud she left behind simply carried away by the night wind.

    I admit the date left me with a bittersweet feeling. A different kind than with Mersie. I liked mindless fun now and then, but I would prefer it if the person who slept next to me would stay for the morning.

    Oh well. One day. One day I would find the right person. I just needed to be patient.

    I chased Eris away from my mind and walked north. I had caught a glimpse of a structure on our way down, sitting on a barren hill. I made my way there, soon walking past a half-destroyed, partially overgrown stone wall. Sagging rusted gatesy open in the night air and led into a courtyard.

    I found Silverine eating grass nearby. She gave me a nod of recognition, half a dozen stitches keeping as many wounds closed. A metal contraptionsome kind of splint from what I could tellkept her left wing in ce.

    You shouldnt be flying in your state, I scolded her. Colmar was an excellent healer and Silverine a strong beast, but she still needed rest.

    Silverine made a strange rueful sound, as if scolding me for being a worrywart, and then turned her head to the side in the direction of a monasterys crumbling ruins. Sometimes I wondered how smart these animals were and how much they understood us.

    The moonlight showed hints of a broken tower standing next to a copsed pile of stone. ire was in the courtyard, sitting near a tombstone with arge basket in her hands. I counted dozens of them around us, all identical pieces of white stone except for the one in front of our countess. That one was taller and made of white marble rather thanmon stone.

    ires head snapped in my direction upon hearing me approach.

    Robin? she sighed in relief, her fears of an assassin ambush swiftly dispelled. What are you doing here?

    Following you, what else? I stared at the tombstone. I didnt need to read the name to know who it was meant to honor. Is this

    Its my mothers grave, yes. ire gazed at the dozen other tombstones with a somber look. And all the people who died in that fire.

    <em>She cried on her way here</em>, I thought upon observing her red-rimmed eyes. My gaze wandered to her basket. It held far more flowers than one grave would warrant. diolus, tulips, lilies of the valley it must have cost a fortune to gather such a bouquet. <em>Theyre meant for everyone, not just her mother.</em>

    Do you want help? I asked. <em>For the tombstones and for yourself.</em>

    I Her scowl turned into a small, warm smile. I wouldnt mind.

    I grabbed some flowers from the basket and startedying them to rest near the graves.

    The night had only begun.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: The Perfect Prince

    Chapter Twenty-Two: The Perfect Prince

    The verdant Windmoon shone high in the sky, and the Firemoon followed in its wake.

    Thetter was no more than a small red glow in a sea of darkness and stars for now, but it was growingrger andrger with each passing night. It would slowly push the Windmoon out of the sky and then fully rece it to herald a new summer.

    The Arcane Abbey said that on the day she crafted the world, the Goddess sought a way to bring order and structure to time itself. So she crafted the four moons, each with a different artifact and overflowing with essence. However, the artifacts soon began to bicker over which moon should dominate the sky, as they were wont to do. The Goddess decreed that each artifact would hold dominion over a quarter of the year. For ny days their associated moon would dominate the sky, with the others receding and waiting for their turn.

    And so, the Goddess invented the four seasons. The Windsword, master of change and reason, would hold sway over spring; summer would belong to the Firewand and be a time for bravery and inspiration; autumns harvests would be blessed by the Earthcoins wealth and industrious spirit; finally, the gentle Seacup would preside over winter, the season of love and death.

    <em>What do the priests say about wars again?</em> I mused. <em>Ah yes. The Windsword starts them, the Firewand wages them, the Earthcoin ends them, and the Seacup buries the dead.</em>

    This civil war would begin in spring and continue over the summer, but I hoped it would end before autumn.

    Its peaceful up there, I told ire. We bothid atop the monasterys ruined roof, our backs against stone and our eyes turned towards the stars above.

    I visit this ce once a week, if I can, ire replied quietly. Recent events didnt give me that luxury.

    I can imagine. I hardly believed summer was rearing its head already. Is that why you refused to leave Snowdrift? To tend to these tombs?

    Partly. ire joined her gloved hands on her chest, her eyes staring at the stars above. I need time to think.

    I could warrant a guess about what troubled her so much, and though I had reservations about potentially putting salt on a wound, I had the feeling ire dearly needed a sounding board.

    It was true, wasnt it? I asked. What Florence said.

    ires jaw tightened in sorrow and disappointment. Unfortunately, I had guessed correctly.

    I had Cortaner interrogate my mothers surviving nurses and those who tended to the convent. ires voice broke slightly. My grandfather had them put mercury in my mothers food after a failed escape attempt.

    My fists tightened so much they could have shattered stone.

    My opinion of thete Count Brynslow had already plummeted once I learned about how he had imprisoned his own daughter to avoid a scandal. The thought that he would poison his own child never crossed my mind. The very idea sounded so abhorrent, so cruel and cowardly, I could hardly imagine anyone going through with it. And unlike Benicios father, the Count didnt need a demons whispers to cross that line.

    I could hardly imagine what ire was going through. She had tended to her grandfather through his illness and all the way to his death, only to learn that the man whom she loved and admired drove her own mother to madness and death. She had been betrayed by her own flesh and blood. All those memories probably tasted bitter to her now.

    Thats awful, I whispered. I struggled to find the right words tofort her. Im Im truly sorry, ire.

    My friend did not cry, weep, or argue. She was too exhausted for any of that.

    My mother started the fire that destroyed this ce, ire said, waving a hand at the ruined convent. She threw a candle at the librarys books and let the mes consume everything. I always spent my time in that room. Reading books and tales was my only way to imagine a world beyond these walls.

    I said nothing, letting her pour her heart out.

    When I learned of the fire, I wondered ire cleared her throat as if to suppress a sob. Did my absence trigger a fit of madness? Would my mother have recovered had I stayed with her?

    You cant know, I pointed out. And even if you did, you cant be med for it.

    Mayhaps but that thought wouldnt leave my mind for years afterward. ires hands clenched. A part of me always wondered if I had never been born

    <em>Dont say it,</em> I thought. <em>For the love of the Goddess, dont say it.</em>

    If I had never been born, ire whispered, her voice as raw as her words. Would my mother still be alive?

    The sentence rang out like a curse between us. Years of guilt and a heavy burden of shame echoed throughout the ruined monastery and into the silent night. That terrible thought had been eating away at her heart for years like worms in an apple.

    ire didnt deserve to be haunted this way. She never did.

    My silver tongue clicked between my teeth, my mind struggling toe up with the right answer, the warmest constion the Archfrostiannguage could offer. And I came up short. I considered us friends, but no single conversation could hope to lift this curse off her mind. Nothing short of her mothers ghost showing up to lift her spirit would truly change her heart.

    When sess was impossible, I could only do my best.

    ire, I finally said, breaking the silence. Will you forgive me if I answer your question with a metaphor?

    I took herck of answer for a yes, albeit not an encouraging one.

    Over the years, I have grown somewhat convinced that the human mind is a courtroom, I said. On one side, you have awyer called self-esteem. Its the voice that tells you that all is right; that you are perfect, that you are loved, and that the world is yours alone. Sometimes thatwyer goes a bit too far. It tells you that you can do no wrong, that the people you hurt always deserved it, and that nobody in the world deserves to stand in your presence.

    ire heard my words, but I couldnt tell if she truly listened to them. I pushed on nheless.

    Then theres the prosecutor, the user. The voice who constantly criticizes you, who reminds you of your mistakes, tells you to do better, to <em>be </em>better. The world would have been a far better ce had the likes of Sforza paid more attention to their own prosecutor. Its often a good source of advice and your conscience, but when it goes too far it will start telling you that you are worthless, and that you are a failure who doesnt deserve to live. Sometimes it speaks to you with someone elses voice, your familys or your friends, but its always <em>your </em>words below it all.

    ire looked at me with a tired expression. What are you getting at, Robin?

    Almost there, I promised. Finally, you have a fickle judge that listens to these two voices and tries to find the right bnce between them. The judge is you, ire.

    My friends jaw tightened, and no words came out of her mouth to answer me.

    Right now, I feel youre listening a bit too much to your prosecutor and not enough to yourwyer, I argued from the bottom of my heart. I sincerely believe that this world would be a worse ce without you in it. Youre not to me for your mothers suffering or the arson. Your grandfather is. Its never a sin to be born.

    ire mulled over my words for a while. A part of her had to know that I was right; that she had acted with virtue and kindness in the face of lies and corruption. Even if she struggled with her self-doubts, her iron heart kept beating.

    I hoped.

    If my mind is a courtroom, ire asked softly, then who is the jury?

    Everybody else, I replied. Being part of amunity means epting others gaze and judgment. Its the price we must all pay for a ce to belong.

    A ce to belong ire scoffed. When When my grandfather chose me as his heir, I felt so so proud. At longst, he had acknowledged me as a Brynslow. She shook her head. I had dreamed of that moment for years when all the vipers who had called me a bastard would prostrate at my feet.

    And much like many dreams, it didnt quite hold up to reality.

    Countess Brynslow had a nice ring to it once. ire let out a long, morose sigh. The title tastes like ash now. It reeks of blood. My mothers and so many others.

    Its not the title that makes the person, but the person who makes the title, I argued. It takes great strength to withstand others judgment and stay true to yourself. Your grandfather was too weak and cowardly to do so. He would rather harm his own kin than suffer humiliation. Hate him or pity him, youll be a better ruler than he ever was.

    But thats the thing, Robin. ire stared back at the verdant Windmoon. Im not sure I want to be Countess anymore.

    You dont have to be, I replied. Do you remember the first time we met?

    She scoffed. I remember nearly throwing you out of my castle.

    You did, I confirmed with a chuckle. But back then, I also offered to your grandfather to purchase Snowdrift.

    ire fell silent. I could imagine the gears turning in her mind like those of a clock rewinding time; reminiscing about old memories while examining them under a new light. Her grandfather had refused my proposal back then because he didnt wish to disinherit his granddaughter, thest Brynslow. I had thought he might have cared for ire in spite of her origins, but now I realized that he simply wanted his house, blood, and honor to carry on beyond his death. ire had epted the burden of nobility because she believed in honor and duty.

    Would she change her mind now that had learned on which rotten foundations her noble house stood?

    My offer is still on the table, if you feel that this burden is no longer yours to carry, I suggested. Ill give you a good price and youll keep your shares in the Frostfox Company. You could choose to disregard all these talks of nobility, marriage, and session to pursue your old dreams of knighthood. Begin anew with a fresh start.

    ire considered my proposal, but to my surprise she didnt appear keen on epting it. Its a demons bargain, she said with skepticism. Too good to be true.

    You know my mark will force me to deliver, right? By now you should know that I y fair. I squinted at her. Dont you want to be happy, ire?

    ire sat in a fetal position, her arms around her raised knees. She rested her head on thetter, inhaling and exhaling the chilly night air.

    Im afraid of having wasted years of my life on a lie. ire cleared her throat after focusing her thoughts. Ive spent Ive spent so many years making my grandfather see me beyond my illegitimate birth and to live up to the Brynslow name. But I I dont feel proud of it anymore, Robin.

    "You haven''t wasted your time at all," I said, trying to console her. "Look what you''ve aplished. You''ve helped save this city twice, first from a Blight then from Florence."

    ire shook her head. "You and the other heroes saved Snowdrift. I hardly did anything."

    "Let''s see" I raised my hand and started to count. "You rallied this city''s troops, fought a demon on foot, helped renovate Snowdrift after decades of decay, financed a fleet, defeated me in a sword duel"

    Thetter drew a chuckle from ire, which I took as a good sign. "I guess I did."

    "Do you know of many maidens of your age who aplished in their life what you did in less than half a year?" Most noblewomen Id met would rather waste their time on frivolities rather than helping their fellow man. "These years you regret so much have forged you into what you are today. You dont have to be a countess to help Snowdrift, ire. Nay, you dont even have to be a Brynslow. You just have to be yourself.

    ire held my gaze for a moment, her gray eyes flickering with amusement, and then let out a smallugh.

    "What''s so funny?" I asked her with a smile of my own.

    "The way you speak." ire chuckled. "<em>Just be yourself</em>. How can you say that with a straight face?"

    <em>Because I would rather see youugh than cry.</em> "Well, did it cheer you up?"

    I dont know, ire conceded. At least it was better than a no. Why are you trying at all?

    Do I <em>need </em>a reason? I scoffed. You could say friendship is a trade. I help you feel better, you help me feel better. Thats all there is to it."

    Is that whats going on with Eris too? ire asked, changing the subject. I saw you with her on that My friend frowned as she struggled to find the right word. Balloon-boat?

    Airship. Marika and I call it an airship. ire gave me a nk look. It is a good name.

    It is a good invention, ire replied, carefully avoiding taking a stance on the name debate. <em>Curses, she had be a true politician.</em> Marika has outdone herself.

    She has, I confirmed. The prototype is working well, and were considering ways to upgrade it further.

    I even nned to purchase Iremian runecannons through Eris, now that we had confirmed my power could teleport these famous essence-artillery pieces across borders. It might take a while, however. Irem was infamously protective of their weapons secretive creation process and understood that the likes of the Artisan could easily reverse-engineer it; they would no doubt desire a high price for these devices.

    As for Eris she is a cat in a nun uniform. Shees and goes out of my life as she pleases. I sighed. I cant build anything longsting with her, but its a nice distraction for now.

    Is that all she and the Assassin are to you? I detected a hint of reproach in ires voice. Distractions?

    She had put two and two together when it came to Mersie and me. I would prefer it if it became something more, I conceded. But Eris is clearly not ready tomit to anything yet. Perhaps not ever.

    Almost certainly <em>never</em>.

    As for the Assassin itsplicated. Quite the understatement, if I said so myself. Shes on a different warpath than mine, and Im not sure theyll align anytime soon.

    ire considered my words with a scowl. I see

    Dont tell me youre jealous, I teased her lightly.

    I regretted the joke the moment it escaped my silly mouth. ires eyes burned with anger.

    I <em>am </em>jealous, ire replied, her voice brimming with frustration. I am jealous of <em>you</em>.

    Her words hit me like a p to the face.

    I am jealous that you can do all these things and not care what others think of you, ire spat, her words oozing with venom. That you can get away with flirting with my best friend, the future <em>queen</em>, in my presence, where others would have had their tongue ripped out. That you can master in <em>hours </em>what took me <em>years</em>. That you can travel across the world and magically step onto adventures I could only dream of. That you are <em>free </em>when I am <em>not</em>.

    My first instinct was toe up with a dozen arguments to angrily refute this, to tell her that she was wrong, that she was free too, that I didnt relish fighting demons anymore than her, that my powers had limits and could kill me if I misstepped. Once upon a time, I would have thrown them back like daggers.

    But this wasnt a debate I had to win. ire wasnt a foe I had to defeat, but a friend dealing with great pain and sorrow. Pouring more anger onto her would be no better than fuel Belgoroths Berserk me or put salt on a wound. It took all my willpower to hold on to these unspoken words and suppress my wounded pride.

    When my mind failed me, I let my heart speak.

    Im sorry, ire, I apologized softly. I never meant to hurt you.

    ire opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out of her throat. My apology had taken the angry wind out of her sails.

    I consider you a friend, I said from the bottom of my heart. A close one too. I know Im not perfect, but I promise that all I want for you is to make you happy. Because you deserve it.

    These were not the best words I could havee up with, but they were the ones I believed in the most. ire knew I meant them. Enough to listen and look aside in a brief moment of guilt and shame.

    Its gettingte, ire said. A not-so-subtle way to say she didnt want to pursue this conversation any further. We should return to the city.

    Sure. She needed space and room to breathe. I would give you a lift, but your ride is quicker than mine.

    Our airship wouldntpete with wyverns and pegasi anytime soon in terms of aerial speed and maneuverability. It would be better used for transporting cargo and passengers for now.

    I suppose Silverine and I could escort your ship to safe harbor, ire mused as we rose back to our feet. I will think about your offer, Robin.

    Youre wee, I replied. Do what you think is best. You can count on me whatever you choose.

    I know. ire cracked a genuine smile. I know

    I smiled back at her, and I would have left this ce a happy man had a light behind her not caught my eyes. A faomoar glow coursed across the horizon.

    A solitary silver shooting star flew through the night sky, traveling from the south to the distant east towards Mount Erebia.

    I immediately recognized its aura and nature. After all, one such silver star had fallen on Ermeline to bestow Mersie with the power to kill and a golden one had marked my hand with the Merchants symbol.

    A vassal ss was flying back to the Fatebinder.

    This could only mean one thing.

    A hero had perished.

    The next day was supposed to start with a triumphant march towards Archfrosts capital.

    Last nights ill-omen kind of interfered with the <em>triumphant </em>part. By the time dawn reared its head beyond the horizon, rumors about the silver star had spread across half of Snowdrift. A cloud of gloom had fallen over the city.

    Rnd immediately called a council of heroes to the ck Keep to discuss the matter. We all answered the call with the exception of Eris, who couldnt be found. Colmar arrivedst with a folded scroll under his arm. The Alchemists body suit never showed many hints as to what he thought, but the way he looked over his shoulders as if expecting an ambush showcased his unnerved state.

    I couldnt me him for being on his guard. Marika was on edge too, and Soraseo kept her hand on her sword at all times. We had all brushed with death often enough to learn that for all our powers, we were as mortal as any other human.

    ording to Brras intel, the Ranger, the Cavalier, and Druid were active in the area, Cortaner informed me. We can exclude the Ranger, since it is a major ss, which leaves only thetter two.

    If its the Cavalier, our spies in Walbourg will soon confirm it, I replied. I didnt fail to notice the spark of guilty hope in Rnds eyes. While he felt ashamed of it, part of him knew the Cavaliers demise would ease his own struggle to retake the rebel region. What do we know of the Druid?

    That they lived in the Arcadian Freeholds, Cortaner replied. Near the border with Walbourg, to be precise.

    Of course. I dearly hoped our colleague had perished from a natural death or ident, but all the people in this room knew better.

    "Demons," Soraseo said with grim conviction.

    "Likely, but not guaranteed," Colmar replied. "Any human assassin could have done the deed."

    Marika crossed her arms, a scowl on her face. "Whoever or whatever did this is in the southwest."

    "Many leagues separate Whitethrone from the Arcadian border, Lady Marika," Rnd replied. "But we would do well to stay on our guards."

    I agreed, I said. Especially considering where the ss returned to.

    The silver shooting star had moved back into the world a minute after returning to Erebia, which meant that the Fatebinder released the ss as soon as it fell back into her hands. Witnesses observed it traveling back towards the Arcadian Freeholds, though where itndedor rather, on <em>whom</em>exactly was anyones guess.

    Since Eris hadnt returned either yet, I guessed the Fatebinder tasked her with both investigating what happened to the dead hero and identifying their sessor. The Goddess knew how long that would take.

    sses dont simply choose people who fit their esoteric criteria, I pointed out. They also travel to ces where heroes are needed. The fact that the lost ss chose a new vessel near their <em>dead predecessor</em>sst known location is worrying.

    Trouble brews near Walbourg, Rnd confirmed with a nod. We can investigate once we retake the capital.

    Would Duchess Griselda let us approach her territory? Marika wondered. Even though she was no politician, she could see the writing on the wall. We have taken party for Your Majestys cause. Doesnt that make us natural enemies?

    Rnd squinted, a spark of hatred briefly shing in his gaze. We will deal with that witch in time, one way or another.

    <em>How ominous</em>, I thought. <em>And premature</em>. We can discuss the matter after we retake Whitethrone, I said. Eris should return with more information by then.

    Yes, of course. Rnd eased up a bit, the darkness in his eyes briefly vanishing. We will continue with the n as agreed. We depart within the hour.

    Our group split up soon after. Marika left to tell her son goodbye, while Soraseo and Rnd went to meet with the soldiers in preparation for the uing march.

    Colmar, however, remained behind. Robin, Sir Cortaner, might I have a word in private?

    Is this about the Knots? Cortaner asked once we were all alone in the council room.

    Yes. Colmar presented me with his scroll. These are the blood tests results.

    Oh, excellent. Your speed and talent never cease to astonish me, Colmar. I grabbed the scroll and unfurled it. So? Were our suspicions confirmed? Are the Leclerc line and ire rted?

    I expected a yes or no. To my surprise, Colmar instead shook his head. Im afraid the situation is moreplicated than it seems.

    Oh? How curious.

    I quickly browsed through the document. Thankfully, unlike most scientists, Colmar had mastered the art of brevity and intelligible conversation. His notes were detailed, yet straightforward, recounting the essence-detection tests he put ires and Sebastian Leclercs blood samples through.

    As for the conclusions he drew from the tests <em>Those </em>I had to reread more than once. The first time, because I thought I had misunderstood; the second time, because I struggled to believe my own eyes.

    <em>This this</em> I struggled to reconcile this information with the intel we had already gathered. <em>This must be an error.</em>

    Are you <em>sure </em>you havent made a mistake? I questioned Colmar.

    I am, my friend confirmed with a grim tone. I reran the blood test half a dozen times, though I cannot exin the results myself.

    Let me see, Cortaner all but ordered me.

    I handed him the scroll and let him read for himself. He did not reread the document more than once unlike me, though the way his hands tightly gripped the paper showcased his surprise and frustration.

    The situation was <em>far </em>worse than I thought.

    I suppose Sebastian Leclerc never mentioned <em>that </em>detail when you interrogated him? I asked Cortaner.

    He did not, which means our foes have found a way around my power. The Inquisitor furled the scroll and returned it to Colmar. How is this possible? Physically speaking?

    I cannot exin it yet, Colmar admitted. Though I have my suspicions.

    So did I. My power could have achieved this feat. Demonic sorcery could exin this troubling information too.

    Should we tell ire? Colmar marked a short pause. He no doubt shared my own doubts. Should we tell <em>Rnd</em>?

    I dont believe in keeping secrets, but I doubt he will believe us, I replied. By the Goddess, I struggled to believe these findings myself. And even if he does, the truth will destroy him.

    Cortaner crossed his arms in deep thought. How is the prince still alive? he wondered out loud. <em>Why</em> is he still alive? And how could they hide this from my power?

    Considering the Devil of Greed was almost certainly a previous Merchant, I could imagine a dozen potential loopholes. Since Rnd was still alive, one option stood above the rest to me.

    I have a hypothesis, I said, ncing at Colmar. Do you remember when I sealed the Counts illness into a coin?

    I do, my friend replied. The disease affected you the moment you touched it.

    We know that the Devils Coins allow those holding it to make deals with the Devil of Greed, who purchases their souls in exchange for power, I exined. Now, if we consider that the Devil of Greed can propose other, lesser trades, such as purchasing memories and sealing them in an object

    This would create the perfect spies. Colmar mulled over my idea and considered its implications. Infiltrators who believe themselves loyal until the time is right.

    I nodded sharply. If my suspicions are correct, these nts will not act against our interests for now. The trap is set, but it requires a trigger. Without the item holding their memories, these spies dont even know that they are spies.

    We should extinguish the Leclerc line immediately, while they do not suspect anything, Cortaner suggested.

    I immediately shot down the idea. Besides the fallout and Rnds reaction, I doubt they are truly powerless. Their deal with the Devil of Greed probably includes failsafes of some kind. Moreover, this situation presents another problem.

    More of these infiltrators might hide among us, Cortaner guessed. We cannot assess how far the Knots have prated our ranks yet.

    And interrogating the cultists that we identified wont bring us closer to identifying the others, since they likely removed the information from their minds, Colmar added. If only we could force them to remember

    We dont have to, I replied. A n formed in my mind, the risks as great as the potential rewards. The Knots have spun an intricate web of deceit, so well spin oursrger.

    We would turn the trap back against its makers.

    For now, the three of us agreed to keep Colmars findings to ourselves. The Alchemist would remain in Snowdrift as nned, while it would fall to Cortaner and me to deal with our foes among Archfrosts army.

    Looks like you will have a lot of work on your hands, I told Cortaner. Both as an inquisitor and as a bodyguard.

    I can protect our Knight from spies and assassins, Cortaner replied bluntly. But I cannot protect him from himself.

    I feared as much.

    I needed to tell Rnd somehow. He had the right to know. However, I doubted my odds. If Cortaners own ss couldnt extract the truth, what other proof could we present? I believed Colmars findings because I trusted him without reservation. I doubted Rnd would share my opinion. Even if he believed me, I feared his reaction. Our Knight struck me as the kind of person to answer betrayal with unfocused fury.

    <em>My best bet is toy the groundwork and then catch our enemies in the act</em>, I thought as I moved to chase after Rnd. <em>Caution must prevail.</em>

    As I suspected, I found the prince in the stables. Our Knight prepared to live up to his name by riding a white horse in shining armor. His squire Sebastian was present too. A shadow following the prince in public and private, helping him put on his equipment.

    Damn it.

    Right on time, Robin. Rnd smiled warmly upon seeing me approach. Will you ride at the front with me? I believe it would embolden our troops to see two great sses leading them side by side.

    I would do it with pleasure. The closer we were, the more likely our foes were to y their hand. Might I have a word with you in private before we leave?

    Of course. Rnd turned to his squire. Sebastian, if you would prepare my steed until I return?

    As Your Majesty wishes, the man replied with a short bow. He looked like the perfect picture of faithfulness, with no shred of deceit and reeking of utter sincerity. If Sebastian Leclerc felt wariness at me taking his prince aside in an isted horse box for a brief talk, he didnt show it.

    What is on your mind, Robin? Rnd asked me once we were out of earshot.

    <em>Your squire is not what he seems</em>, <em>and we might have to kill him. </em>I swallowed these words when I met Rnds gaze and understood a key detail.<em> Do I truly know this man?</em>

    So far, my only interactions with Rnd have been brief and short. I understood Colmar and Marika, learned Mersies secrets, built a rapport with Eris and Soraseo over a long coboration.

    I couldnt say the same for the man in front of me. While I considered myself a good judge of character, I had only ever seen the carefully crafted princely image Rnd portrayed in public. I believed his inner self matched the social mask he wore on the outside but overconfidence was a slow and insidious killer.

    Id better test the waters first.

    Please forgive my bluntness, but in this case I have the intuition that honesty will save you all a great deal of trouble. I thought about half a dozen flowery ways to broach the subject, then settled for straightforwardness. I know about your affair with Sebastian Leclerc.

    Prince Rnds entire face turned a bright shade of scarlet. Robin, I would rather that you keep this to yourself. A wiser man would have denied it. What do you want in return?

    That was the most awkward bribery attempt I had ever seen, and the most pitiful. His first instinct was to believe that I wanted to shake him down.

    Everyone who broached the subject tried to ckmail you over it, I guessed. Or worse.

    Rnds silence spoke more than any word. Unfortunately, it did not surprise me. Unlike ces like the Rivend Federation, where wealth mattered more than anything, Archfrosts society ran on names and bloodlines. Considering Rnd was thest kingsst direct heir, information about his private proclivities could greatly damage him.

    Im wounded that you would think that of me, I said with the utmost sincerity. I wasnt above ckmailing my foes, but a fellow hero? Who youre sleeping with is your business alone

    Its not, Rnd cut in bitterly. We wouldnt be having this conversation otherwise.

    It <em>should </em>be your business alone as far as I am concerned, I corrected myself. This discussion was off to a terrible start. I am not here to judge or admonish you. I am simply concerned for you and Therese.

    Which was true, in more ways than one. I worried for their future happiness <em>and </em>their lives.

    Rnd let out a heavy sigh. How did you know?

    I suppressed augh. You havent been exactly subtle, Rnd.

    I suppose I have lowered my guardtely, Rnd admitted. Im usually more careful, but being in thepany of other heroes It makes me feel safe, I suppose. That I can breathe easier. Be myself.

    <em>This mans never had friends</em>, I thought, my heart filled with pity. <em>Not a single, genuine one. No wonder he struggles to trust anyone.</em>

    You didnt tell Therese the truth, I said. It wasnt a question.

    Rnd guiltily avoided my gaze. I suspect she already knows.

    Even so, Rnd, it would be better to tell her. Especially since youre expected to share a lifetime together. When the prince failed to answer, I prayed to the Goddess for any hint as to how to salvage this situation. What do you think of Therese? Be honest.

    She is a a fine and well-breddy. Rnd cleared his throat, clearly ufortable. She will make a good queen.

    If he was already struggling toplement his own fianc, it didnt bode well for their marriage. I pitied them both. Youve never wanted to marry her.

    It is not a question of what I <em>want </em>to do, Robin, but what I <em>must</em> do. Rnd straightened up, his back straight as a bowstring. I am the crown prince of Archfrost and its future king. Some say I was born to rule, but in truth I was born to serve. My lifes path has been decided since I first drew breath. Ive had no more choice in selecting my wife than in wearing the crown.

    Somehow, I felt like talking to ire all over again. These two were more alike than I imagined.

    No, scratch that. I had felt strangely fond of Rnd since the moment I met him. Now I knew why. He had subconsciously reminded me of ire and her struggles.

    Im a romantic at heart, I confessed. I wouldnt struggle so much to find the right person otherwise. Perhaps its nave of me to say that, but I think you and Therese both deserve more than a loveless union. There has to be a better path.

    And who among us is free to choose his own path? Rnd shrugged. You no more than I.

    You are free, I argued. If you want to cast aside your crown and put it on your uncles head, you are free to do so. Others will grumble and there will be consequences, but the choice is yours. The same way I chose to stand with you.

    Rnd raised an eyebrow. Did you?

    I scoffed. Im here, am I not?

    But did you truly decide on your own? Rnd met my gaze. Think about it. What were the odds that the Merchant ss would choose someone like you? Before the mark came to you, what did you achieve? Did you write a contract that changed the world, or found a business that transcends nations? Perhaps you always had the potential to do great things, but you never showcased it to the world.

    My time hadnte yet then, I replied, though his words did nt a seed of doubt in my heart. If I hadnt received my mark, Sforza would have likely caught up to me anyway. Would I have survived a fight with the demon without Eris help? I wanted to believe I would have, but I was humble enough to understand I had been lucky.

    I have never done anything knightly myself, Rnd confessed. I am well-born, that is true, but I have never won a tournament, in a dragon, or rescued a fair maiden. I couldnt fathom why my own ss selected me. But now that I have met so many of you I believe I understand now.

    <em>Hes more thoughtful than I expected</em>, I thought. <em>Especially for his age.</em>

    I have studied your history, Robin. To my greater surprise, Rnd proved rather well-informed. You came from Ermeline but always intended to return to Archfrost, met the Assassin, confronted the Knots, and grew aware of the threat they posed. Quite a few coincidences, dont you think?

    These are not coincidences, I confirmed. I had already guessed as much when I met Marika and Soraseo on my way to Snowdrift. The marks guide us, thats a fact.

    But have you ever considered that we do <em>not </em>wear our sses? That instead, our sses wear <em>us</em>? Rnd pointed at the mark on my hand. That the Merchant ss chose you because it <em>knew </em>you and the Assassin would naturally cooperate and that you would meet other heroes on a journey that would lead you to confront Belgoroth? That you were not selected for any quality or feat, but for being in the right ce at the right time for all the right reasons?

    I wanted tough at his points, and I failed to. I had never considered this line of thought. Most probably because I didnt want to. I hated the idea of being bound by anything, even my own mark.

    Or our sses chose us because we were the right people for the job, I countered. The Demon Ancestors had more than proved how much that choice mattered.

    Rnd remained unconvinced. The truth is, Robin, I believe our sses would work just as well in the hands of the exceptional as in those of the mediocre. We are no more than vessels for the powers dwelling within us. Who can say that they do not influence us? That we think our own thoughts are instead stage whispers meant to keep us on the right track?

    I didnt expect such cynicism from him. Nor for his words to leave me so unsettled. We are more than our sses, Rnd, I said what I wanted to believe, No more than they can solve all our problems.

    I would like for you to be right about the first part, Robin, but I am not so sure, Rnd replied. Who would you be without your power? What would your life have been? Would you have aplished a thousandth of what you did in Snowdrift?

    No, I confessed without losing heart. But I would still have tried to change the world. I would still have made my way to Snowdrift and I still would have tried to save it from destruction.

    But would you have seeded? Rnd smiled sheepishly. I do not mean to demean your abilities, but if

    You could turn the whole world into a bottle with <em>ifs</em>, I interrupted him. There is little to gain in reminiscing about roads not taken.

    Mayhaps. Rnd pointed a finger at his own golden mark. Do you understand how the Knights power works, Robin?

    It allows you to master any weapon, or so I was told, I replied. Though I assume there is more to it?

    Words are weapons, and conversations are a battlefield, Rnd exined. Whenever I open my mouth, I must struggle back against the urge to say the most hurtful things imaginable. I do not always understand why the sentences my power suggests will harm someones spirit, yet I can feel it will deep in my bones. I must measure each word I speak.

    I shuddered as I considered the implications. Much like my Merchant ss, the Knights power worked on a conceptual level. Perhaps all seven major sses possessed this same quality. Whereas vassal sses were rtively limited, ours transcended the rules of reality and only followed their own logic.

    My ss <em>wants </em>to fight, Rnd dered. It exists for battle, just as yours breathesmerce. I assume you have no choice but to stay true to a trade once you agree to it, whether you want it or not.

    Youre quite insightful, Rnd, Iplimented him. But while Im forced toply with a contract, Im still the one drafting it.

    Yet your history determines the words you will write, as my stationpels me to behave a certain way. Rnd sighed. I understand the responsibilities I bear, both as a Knight and crown prince. I will He cleared his throat. I will do my duty and produce an heir to the throne of Archfrost.

    A prospect that appeared to frighten him more than the Demon Ancestors. What of Sebastian?

    Ive Rnd nched a bit, his eyes filled with sorrow. Weve already discussed the the matter. I shall stay true to my wedding vows and end this.

    My heart broke. You love him.

    Yes, I do, Rnd replied without hesitation. He has been my friend and truestpanion. I hope to keep him at my side even after I am crowned king.

    He said that with such an earnest, gentle voice too I didnt think Id ever pitied anyone more than him at this moment.

    I have lived like this for as long as I can remember, Robin, Rnd dered. Archfrost is a dividednd. A country that has suffered from a great many terrors. Its people, <em>our </em>people, need a symbol to rally around, an icon to gather their hopes and unite them inmunion. A perfect king who can mend the realms wounds.

    You intend to carry a great burden, I argued. A weight too heavy for one man to carry.

    Hence why I would like you to fight at my side. Rnd smiled warmly. I would feel lighter with someone of your virtue at my side.

    For all of his cynicism and fatalism, he still managed to keep a seed of innocence. How could I deny him? I couldnt let him down. Not now, not ever.

    I cant promise we will always see eye to eye, I replied with a smile of my own. But I will have your back.

    I would protect Rnd, even from himself.

    <em>Especially </em>from himself.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Night Terrors

    Chapter Twenty-Three: Night Terrors

    My horse trampled wildflowers under her hooves to the tune of war songs and nking armor.

    Even after spending several years away in the Rivend Federation, Id never forgotten the beauty of Archfrosts countryside. Vast ins tinged with the golden hue of ripening grain sprawled before my eyes alongside seas of grass whistling in the wind. The asional patches of red poppies and a grove of white-barked birch trees burst in vivid contrast to the rest of thendscape, filling it with vibrant new colors.

    <em>Such beauty</em>, I thought, albeit somewhat sadly. <em>I loathe to despoil it.</em>

    The loyalist army that followed in my wake was a sight to behold, a formidable force tens of thousands strong, a moving sea of gleaming armor and fluttering banners. Columns of armed infantrymen marched as fast as their legs could carry them, whilemanders mounted on horseback barked orders to maintain formation. A priest would join them every so often to bless the soldiers and remind them that they would fight under the Four Artifacts divine protection.

    As the Merchant, I had been granted the supreme honor of carrying the royal banner of Archfrost: an icy crown with seven pointed horns on a white field. It was surprisingly light for a g on a pole. I guessed its makers had reinforced it with essence.

    Do you have simrndscapes in the east, Lady Soraseo? Therese asked my fellow hero. Archfrosts future queen strode at my side alongside Soraseo and her mighty warhorse, all of us under heavy escort. I have heard many tales of the Teikokus beauty.

    Tales do not do justice to the truth, Soraseo replied with a nostalgic, wistful look. Our mountains rise to reach the sky. Our waterfalls sing in the summer, and the wind howls through spring bamboo

    But do you have muddy roads? I asked her mirthfully. My horse, Mudkeep, had more than earned her nickname since we left Snowdrift. And dark forests full of wolves?

    Do not forget the icy winter snow, Therese mused yfully.

    Archfrost is different than my home, Soraseo said, though her tone implied she very much preferred thetter. <em>From</em> my home?

    From, I confirmed. Youre improving greatly. You speak Archfrostian nearly as well as a native.

    Better than most, I would say, Therese said with a chuckle.

    Thank you very much, Soraseo replied, her cheeks slightly warmer than earlier. My homnd would have rice fields near hillsides at this time of the year, and it has more valleys than ins. It has more viges, too.

    Tell me about it, Iined. Archfrosts northern regions had always been sparsely popted, and the civil war and gue only worsened that trend. We had hardly encountered a few settlements on our way towards the capital, and we didnt stop at any of them.

    You should visit the Everbright Empire one day, Robin, Therese suggested. You strike me as a city kind of person, and we have thergest one on the continent.

    I enjoy nature sometimes, I replied. But yes, Ill take a city bustling with activity over a quiet woods anytime.

    We didnt get to enjoy either possibility so far. Thanks to my ability to teleport supplies to our current location with a stroke of a pen, our army could afford to travel without the weakness of all mobile troops everywhere: a baggage train. We could leave heavy equipment behind, march all day, and then have it delivered to our current location in an instant without tiring out our men.

    Henceforth, Rnd decided on a forced march. Half a hundred leagues separated Snowdrift from Whitethrone. Three days in and we had already covered half that distance. Three more and we would find ourselves at the capitals doorsteps.

    I left most of the war nning to Rnd, Soraseo, Duke Sigismund, and other capable advisors. I was no military genius, even with the purchased experience of many soldiers. My expertisey in logistics and diplomacy, and I more than yed my part on that front. I spent my nights surveying stocks, using my power to shift the soldiers fatigue and asional sicknesses around, and writing letters to undecided nobles in support of Rnds cause. Id had sess on that front, albeit for a price.

    Prince Rnd is returning, Soraseo dered while squinting at the horizon. The Volgova River flowed in the distance, its deep waters glistening in the fading sunlight. Canopies of oak and spruce loomed on the opposite riverbank. With the others.

    <em>She has sharp eyes</em>, I thought. <em>Too sharp</em>. Does your understanding of movement let you see farther than normal?

    Yes, she confirmed. The movement in the air, the way dust blows, vibrations in the ground They tell me many secrets.

    Can you detect lies, for example? Therese asked.

    Sometimes, Soraseo confirmed. What the tongue hides, the body often betrays.

    And with Cortaner, weve got the tongue covered too, I mused.

    Quite the deadlybination. Therese smiled at the sky. Tell me, who is the best liar you have met yet?

    Eris, Soraseo replied without hesitation.

    Eris? I raised an eyebrow. And here I thought <em>I</em> would take the spot. Im wounded.

    Where? Soraseo asked, taking my meaning literally before realizing her mistake. Oh, that was an expression?

    Its fine, I replied with a smile. But Im curious, how is Eris a good liar?

    Soraseo thought over it before answering. You are a book written in a foreignnguage, Robin, she answered. Sometimes I do not understand the words, but I guess the meaning. Eris is a nk book. I cannot see the ink at all. Do you have undersdo you understand, Robin?

    I think I do. While I might give away subtle telltale signs of lying, Eris managed to hide everything behind a pleasant smile. I had only really managed to catch her off-guard when I purchased her ability to lie in the first ce. Ill take it as an invitation to improve.

    Speaking of Lady Eris, we have not seen her for days, Therese noted. I would have expected her to reappear by now.

    Me too, I whispered. I was starting to grow worried. Eris hadnt shown up since our date and the heros death that followed. Not only did her absence deprive us of an invaluable method of instantmunication, but it spelled a dire warning of dangers toe.

    I prayed to the Goddess that she was safe and sound, especially considering what Id learnedtely.

    Why this question, Therese? I asked innocently. Do you suspect someone is lying to you?

    The truth seldom shows herself in my fiancspany. Therese smiled at me. Ive heard you argued with him over our future marriage.

    So you and Rnd <em>do </em>speak to each other, I said, pleasantly surprised. As per protocol, the prince and princess kept separate pavilions. While proper, since they werent married yet, I suspected Rnd preferred to avoid his fiance out of awkwardness.

    He has to, to keep up appearances, Therese replied. Her velvet voice hardly hid the steel underneath. Do you still intend to duel him for my hand if he proves unworthy of me?

    If needs be, yes. But only for <em>both </em>of their sakes. Do <em>you </em>want me to duel your fianc, Therese?

    No, of course not. Therese chuckled. If you win I lose a throne, and if my fianc wins I lose a friend.

    Im wounded that you put me on an equal pedestal with a chair, I teased her back. Especially one so ufortable.

    I knew Therese was an ambitious woman at heart; she had shown excellent administrative skills in Snowdrift alongside an excellent grasp of feudal politics. She was willing to put up with quite a lot to be Archfrosts queen.

    However, I hadnt missed the distance she had shown her fianc, nor the way she did her best to ignore his squires existence. She did have reservations about Rnd. I wondered how long it would take them to ovee her ambition, if ever.

    Or perhaps I was merely projecting. I had a particr view of romantic rtionships that probably differed from Thereses.

    Soraseo, who had listened to our conversation in rtive silence so far, cleared her throat. My parents did not marry for love, she confided in us. They married for duty. The love came after. It will be the same with you and the Knight, Lady Therese. I am certain.

    It is not love I am after, Lady Soraseo. The princess enigmatic smile did not waver. It is <em>respect</em>.

    Soraseos earlier prophecy soon came true. A squad of pegasi knights emerged from clouds on the horizon, escorting our airship. Our group rode away from the column to greet them as theynded on the grass. While the pegasi riders had little issue reaching the ground, Marika and Cortaner took a bit longer to find the right spot. The way our Inquisitor stood on the deck, a hand on the chains binding the balloon to the rest of the ship, reminded me of a swashbucklering to port.

    Has Your Majesty enjoyed his ride? Therese courteously asked a certain rider in shining armor.

    I admit I prefer myndbound horse, Rnd replied as he removed his helmet. But I cannot deny the view from above is mesmerizing.

    Only a handful of people in Archfrost could afford to own a tamed pegasus, let alone ride them. Thankfully, Sebastian Leclerc wasnt among those lucky few. The princes aerial reconnaissance missions represented the rare few moments where he would shake off his squire and leave him behind, to my private relief.

    I admit I was quite astonished by Rnds bravery. Scouting ahead of the army was a dangerous job, even from a mile above ground. A fall could end him forever. Yet our Knight proved to be the kind ofmander who liked to confirm reports with his own eyes.

    It is as we suspected, Rnd said. Thanks to Robins power, our speed has taken my treacherous uncle aback.

    The rebel troops are scrambling to join up with reinforcementsing from Walbourg in the Icewind ins, Cortaner confirmed. Well face no resistance until we reach it.

    Our foes do not need to offer any, Therese observed. The Icewind ins are right in our path and provide an open field perfect for battle.

    Theyll try to intercept us there and prevent us from reaching the capital, I confirmed. Is Baron Delganov in charge of the rebel forces in ce of the Regent?

    Rnd frowned at me. How did you learn that?

    Diplomacy and bribery, I replied. I wanted to confirm the information before I could trust the rest of the intel.

    We have received simr intelligence from our scouts, Rnd confirmed. My uncle is holding up in the capital. He is a politician, not a warrior.

    And a poor one at that, Therese mused. This drew a smile from her fianc.

    We currently possess thergest force, Soraseo said. The enemy can only match our numbers if they have reinforcements She cleared her throat. If theybine?

    Combine, I confirmed.

    If theybine with reinforcements, Soraseo said with a happy nod and a seasoned veterans vision. We must defeat them individually. Crush them when they are few fewer.

    I agree, Rnd said with a nod. Well march at night.

    At night? I repeated.

    Our foes expect us to move to the Icewind ins and battle them there, Rnd exined his strategy. But Lady Marika can create bridges in minutes. If we use her ability to cross the Volgova River, we can take a shortcut, smash my uncles troops, and retake Whitethrone in short order.

    Well find ourselves trapped between the capital and Walbourgs reinforcements if we do that, Cortaner pointed out.

    Hence why we must smash my uncles troops tonight, Rnd replied. By marching in the dark at full speed, well m into his forces as theyre sleeping and prevent them from mobilizing. Shock and surprise will carry the day. Once the Walbourg reinforcements learn of this defeat, they will likely return home and fortify their frontier rather than continue a doomed fight.

    It was a bold n, I had to admit, though I pointed out the obvious w. Only if they dont see using.

    Yes, henceforth we must keep the n secret from most. We will tell themanders that we move towards the ins and change the directives at thest minute. Rnds hand moved to his swords hilt. I shall personally lead the charge.

    I exchanged a nce with Soraseo, who raised her chin in approval. Now was the time.

    You will, and you wont. I pointed at a spot slightly far from the group. Rnd, can Soraseo and I speak with you in private for a moment?

    Rnd frowned in confusion, but nodded wordlessly. The three of us stepped away from the others. Our fellow heroes were already into the n, but the fewer people informed, the better.

    What is it, my friends? Rnd asked me once we were out of earshot. If you insist on discretion, I assume it is an important matter.

    I nodded, searched under my coat, and brought out decoded letters. I have secretly established contact with some of the Regents less than loyal supporters through messenger birds before we even left Snowdrift, I said as I handed the document to Rnd. ording to them, your uncles allies killed the Druid with new magical weapons.

    What? Rnd flinched in shock. Are you certain?

    Not entirely, but they would have no way of identifying the dead hero as the Druid without having either done the deed or at least witnessing it. Half of Pangeals heroes remained under the radar or unounted for, after all. Which makes me think theres a kernel of truth to the information.

    Rnd scowled as he read the letters. What do we know of these weapons?

    Almost nothing. My informers couldnt give me details. I cant even tell if they refer to demons or actual weapons yet. The Regent boasted about them in private to convince nobles to support his bid for the throne. He did not mention who supplied them either, but I have my suspicions.

    The Knots, Soraseo surmised.

    Most likely. I took a deep breath. The Druids murder was a test run for <em>you</em>, Rnd.

    Rnd scowled, though he didnt appear surprised that his own uncle was nning to have him assassinated. What did you have to sell to obtain this information? I doubt money alone would have convinced these turncoats to disclose something so sensitive.

    I sighed. Ive sold them years of life through remote contracts.

    I had umted a stockpile of extra time from prisoners. While I had sat on it until I could figure out how to distribute them ethically, desperate times called for desperate measures.

    Rnds scowl deepened, while Soraseo didnt hide her distaste. That practice sullies your soul, she said. I do not like it.

    Neither do I, I admitted. Nay, I <em>hated </em>it. But I would rather see a toad live five years longer than see five hundred more soldiers join the enemys ranks. A possibility that Ive avoided so far.

    There will be time to deal with turncoats <em>after </em>we win this war, Robin, Rnd promised me. He shared my bitterness. I shall forgive those who choose the right side but I will not forget those who arrivedte.

    I would wee a purge. Forgive me the question, Rnd, but when do you think that it would be best for our enemies to assassinate you?

    Either on the battles eve or in its midst, Rnd guessed. The Knots do not want a quick and clean victory. They want ughter and destruction.

    Only pointless bloodshed on a terrible scale can birth a Blight, I confirmed. Your demise would all but ensure it.

    Killing Rnd would mean the end of his cause, but assassinating him now would reduce casualties to a minimum. His supporters would still have intact troops to rally against beastmen tribes, demons, and other invaders. Murdering our Knight in the middle of an important battle, however, would demoralize our soldiers and disorganize the armythe perfect set-up for a massacre.

    I doubted anyone short of a Demon Ancestor or a small army could hope to defeat Rnd in battle. The Knight was the strongestbat ss in the world alongside the Mage, and I had seen first-hand how it lived up to its reputation. The Druid was a strong ss, but nowhere near as mighty as those two.

    However, we would be fools to underestimate our foes or these tales of secret weapons. A knife to the back from a supposed friend might also prove just as effective.

    You believe the demons will target me with their new toys, Rnd said disdainfully. Let them. I can take care of myself, Robin.

    Your confidence does you credit, Rnd, but we possess little information on what power the Knots can array against us, I replied. Whatever slew one of our own four nights ago mighte to y in the next battle. I say we hedge our bets.

    Thankfully, Rnd was wise enough to hear me out. Im listening.

    Soraseo and I have devised a little n to lure our enemies out into the open. I turned to our beloved Monk. Show him.

    Soraseo opened her mouth, but the voice that came out of it belonged to Rnd. Your words are mine, Lord Rnd.

    How do you do that? Rnd whispered in surprise.

    I focus, Soraseo replied, still using the Knights own voice.

    What is sound other than the movement of air? I borated. Soraseo can mimic both your voice and bodynguage through precise muscle control. Since youre around the same height, no one will be able to tell you apart once you switch armor. I will also use my power to change the color of your eyes and other details to help sell the deception.

    You want us to switch ces in battle. Rnd crossed his arms. I cannot send another to fight my battles.

    What else are armies for? I replied. Well have to outwit the Knots if we are to defeat them.

    To catch a fish, we need bait, Soraseo added. I will be the bait. You will be the hook.

    Rnd shifted in ce, clearly ufortable with the proposal. Are you sure about this n, Lady Soraseo? Youll expose yourself to great danger.

    It is I who proposed the idea first, Soraseo replied with a warriors pride. I can withstand the consequences. I can withstand anything.

    Rnd hesitated for a moment. What did Eris say again? Ah yes. <em>The Knight is always a chivalrous bleeding heart. </em>I could hardly believe that such a simple deception would make him ufortable.

    When would this switch take ce? he asked cautiously.

    Right before our night march, I said. No one else must know. Not even your squire.

    Sebastian? Rnd squinted suspiciously at him. Why?

    Even if your squire and his father are loyal Which they werent. they might identally spill details that wille back to haunt us. We cannot say how far the Knots have infiltrated our troops. The fewer people in the know, the better.

    I suppose it makes sense, Rnd said with a hint of disapproval. But I have the feeling you are keeping a secret scheme from me.

    <em>I am</em>, I thought. <em>But how could I expect you to trust me over an old friend? </em>I dearly wanted to reveal Colmars intel to Rnd, but he would eitherugh in my face or disbelieve it outright.

    Soraseo didnt seem to share my opinion. He should know, Robin, she said with stoicism. He deserves to.

    Know what? Rnds eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Clearly he resented the fact Id told Soraseo but not him. What do you have against Sebastian?

    Nothing yet, I replied, ying coy. Which was true. We still needed to catch him in the act.

    It was why I hadn''t asked Sebastian to sell me his ability to harm Rnd. If I did, the traitor would immediately realize we considered him suspicious and act cautiously, if at all. This would cost us our chance to prove his vile intentions to Rnd. Sebastian''s demonic master may even opt not to return his true memories so as to avoid a leak. Finally, if the Devil of Greed could shift memories around, this meant that she could conclude deals with her worshipers somehow. Sebastian could easily buy back the ability to harm Rnd from someone else anyway.

    In short, our best bet was to let Sebastian believe he remained undiscovered, regain his memories and trick him into exposing himself. That way we could both detain him and extract valuable information.

    I am not blind, Robin, Rnd said, his cheeks growing red from anger. Lord Cortaner is constantly with me. He checks my food, does not allow a weapon in his presence, checks the flow of essence for any demonic influence, <em>and </em>res at my squire whenever they cross paths.

    I should have known an Inquisitor with a truth-telling power would struggle with deception. Thankfully, Rnd wasnt mad enough to share his squires bed while campaigning either. His personal tent wasrge enough to amodate arge retinue, so Sebastian and the other guards slept in a separate corner of it. This allowed Cortaner to keep watch over the prince at all times.

    I promised I would have your back, Rnd, I reminded him. Youll have to trust us on this.

    If you do not extend your hand in trust, how can you expect others to return it? Rnd tensed up like an arrow ready to fire. Who else did you inform of your secret scheme besides Lady Soraseo? And since when?

    I let out a sigh. This conversation would get difficult. Marika and Cortaner. I informed them since we left Snowdrift.

    In short, you shared sensitive intelligence with all the heroes <em>except </em>me. Rnd shook his head in disappointment. I dislike deceit, Robin. Ive had my fill of it at court. Heroes shouldnt hide information from each other.

    You wont take it well, I warned Rnd.

    I do not care. The prince red at me. Others have tried to use me all my life. If you wish to join that group, Robin, then you may no longer expect cooperation from me.

    <em>Im losing him, </em>I thought. <em>Fine. Honesty it is.</em> If I told you that your squire was potentially under demonic influence, would you believe me?

    I would find that unlikely, Rnd replied with a scoff. Laughable, even.

    And yet, we have reason to believe he is. He might not be <em>aware </em>of it Sebastian probably believed the lie in his current state. but he almost certainly works for the Knots.

    What reasons? Rnd asked tersely. Ive known Sebastian since my teenage years. He has been a loyalpanion since the first day. He would never betray me.

    I exchanged a nce with Soraseo, who nodded sharply at me. I sighed with a heavy heart, brought out Colmars blood test from my pocket, and gave it to Rnd. The prince frowned in confusion as he read the report, his skin bleaching with each sentence he read.

    This is this is impossible. As I expected, Rnd rejected the truth outright. This is madness. Complete and utter <em>madness</em>.

    Maybe Colmar has made an error, I lied to soften the blow. Id never seen Colmar misdiagnose someone. But we cant set aside this information.

    I refuse to believe this this calumny. Rnds fist clenched on the scroll, his face twisting in an expression of fury. Hes been with me for years. <em>Years</em>. Since we were teenagers. I would have I would have <em>seen</em>.

    Soraseo sent the prince a gaze full ofpassion. Lord Rnd

    This is a <em>lie</em>! Rnd snapped loudly enough for the others to look at us in the distance. His hand gripped his swords hilt, and the dark look I had glimpsed a few times in his eyes returned in full force. Aplete and utter <em>lie</em>!

    I remained calm in the face of his anger. Frankly, he was taking it better than expected. He hadnt even drawn his sword yet. Do you trust your squire, Rnd?

    With my <em>life</em>! Rnd replied without hesitation.

    Then he will understand the deception for tactical purposes, I argued. If nothing happens during this battle, then clearly we were wrong and I shall personally apologize to him on behalf of all heroes involved.

    Prince Rnds jaw clenched in frustration. He didnt answer me immediately. Instead, he studied me, judged me, and weighed every word. Our Knight didnt believe me about Sebastians true nature, but the seed of doubt had been nted. Would it be enough?

    Lord Rnd. Soraseo joined her hands in a strange salute, bowing slightly. Please. For everyones sake.

    Rnd hesitated a moment, but he finally appeared to see reason. If only because he wanted to prove us wrong.

    Fine, Rnd said with a snort. But you should already prepare your apology, Robin.

    I might. Part of me also hoped to be mistaken.

    But the rest of me knew better.

    I managed to get a few hours of sleep in my tent before Marikas hand shook me awake. Its time, she whispered. She was already dressed for battle, her armor gleaming under the light of a torch. Rnd gave the signal.

    Yes, yes I groaned as I rose up from the nket I had called a bed for thest few days. I had tried to rest a bit before the battle. What hour is it?

    Past midnight. Marika let out a chuckle. Need help putting on your armor?

    I wouldnt mind.

    A minuteter, Marika was helping me put on leather armor. You should take a squire of your own, she chided me. I cant believe you still havent recruited one.

    Who needs a squire when I have a best friend like you? I teased her. Marika froze, my helmet still in my hands. What?

    Oh my Goddess, she replied, gobsmacked. You <em>are </em>my best friend.

    I know right? I chuckled. You should start socializing with more people.

    Marika lightly punched me in the elbow and then strapped the helmet on my head. My new dagger and rapier glittered on my buckled belt, ready to be unsheathed at a moments notice. I also stored specially-charged runestones in a purse. Those mighte in handy very soon.

    When we finished, the two of us moved out of our shared tent and swiftly ran to our horses. The camp was abuzz with activity as soldiers hurried to get dressed for the night march, torches shining in the dark under a sky speckled with stars.

    Anxious? I asked Marika as we approached the Volgova River. Servants had already gathered the materials Id summoned earlier for Marikas use: building stones, cut trees, and iron ore. Rndor rather, a certain someone wearing his armorand Cortaner were already there waiting for us, alongside Sebastian and a number of riders.

    I am, but not for the battle. Marika nced at my rapier. Battles like this breed a dozen cursed weapons on the best of days.

    Makes more work for you, I said. To my surprise, Cortaner hade on foot. The armored Inquisitor practiced hand movements, his fingers cloaked in a shroud of me. You channel elemental essence through your gauntlets, Cortaner?

    Seukaian martial arts do not need gloves or armor, Rnd noted from atop his horse. They wield essence with their hands.

    The impersonation was so perfect that I couldnt tell whether it was truly Rnd or Soraseo. She mimicked his voice and posture perfectly, even his speech pattern. As long as she didnt speak too much and stuck to giving orders, I doubted she would slip up.

    A feat as impressive as it is inefficient, Cortaner snorted in contempt.

    Hes not wrong, Marika said. Channeling essence through ones flesh means risking a backsh at best or a mutation at worst. If fire essence permanently bonds with your body, then it will start tobust on its own. Using tools is easier, safer, and achieves the same result.

    Didnt firehawks arise from birds infused with fire essence? I mused. They dont turn to ashes whenever they take flight.

    Because they survived millennia upon millennia of natural selection, Marika replied with the utmost seriousness. A hundred other birds burned to cinders for every viable firehawk ancestor that managed to breed and survive. Seriously Robin, dont get ideas.

    Im kidding. I already struggled to infuse my weapons with essence, let alone my body. Lets do this.

    Marika nodded back and swiftly started using her power tobine materials together. I watched her build in a minute arge bridge that would have taken years and hundreds of workers otherwise. I strode side by side with the disguised Soraseo and Sebastian on horseback alongside hundreds of cavalrymen. Cortaner followed on foot. He did not need a mount to match our speed, nor did he tire.

    While Marika would lead the siege engineers, I would join the vanguards right wing with the disguised Soraseo, Cortaner, and the cavalry. I would have done better in the reserve, where the real Rnd waited in Soraseos armor, but our n demanded that I y the bait. The Knots might hesitate to fullymit if we were spread out across the battlefield. The possibility of taking out two great sses at once would prove too sweet an opportunity to let pass.

    My hands tensed on Mudkeeps reins. I had fought skirmishes in the past, but never a battle as part of such arge army. The right wing alone included over four thousand mounted knights massed like a tide of steel, their horses hooves trampling the grass to the tune of a thunderous chorus. I raised the royal banner and let it unfurl in the night wind. Other heraldic gs representing half a dozen noble houses flew behind me. We advanced past dark trees and towards the ins beyond them, where our foes camp awaited.

    <em>So far so good</em>, I thought. A pale mist had risen, albeit faint enough to let us see through it. Three ditches full of sharpened stakes had been erected a few short leagues away, beyond which the enemy camp spread out in a sea of tents and pavilions asrge as houses. Smoke rose from the light of a hundred night fires. No horn sounded to raise the rm yet, so our scouts had done their job silencing the enemys. <em>But theres foulness in the air.</em>

    I smelled it in the wind and saw it with my magical sight. A cloud of corrupt miasma rising from the enemy camp. A flow of corrupted essence. Too weak for a Blight, too strong for just a demon.

    What are your orders, Your Majesty? Sebastian asked the disguised Soraseo. If he had seen through our ruse, he gave no hint of it. It is only a matter of time before the sentries notice us.

    Soraseo examined the camps defenses, whichpromised a quick advance. Have shielded infantry dismantle the spikes with ropes and hooks, she ordered with Rnds voice. Thankfully, military orders required concision rather than flowery speeches. Bring sacks of hay and soil to fill the gaps between them. Bring nks too. We must open a breach.

    Messengers immediately worked to ry the order, with Cortaner himself taking the first step toward the fortifications. He silently jumped into the ditch, his metal boots sending mud flying, and punched the spikes in half with his armored hands. The wood bent to his steel and strength. Marika and other engineers followed after him, my friend using her power to quickly build bridges over the fortifications.

    We were halfway through the ditches when a war horn erupted from the enemy camp. The sentries had noticed us.

    Archers must take position! Soraseo ordered while Marika and the others quickened. From the way our Monk spoke, she had alreadymanded simr operations in the past. Pegasus riders, set themand tents aze!

    Our fliers took flight above the camp with bags of oil and mmable material. War horns echoed again in the distance, deep and terrible; our trumpets answered them, sounding the start of our own attack. The time for sneakiness had passed.

    While our cavalry waited for a breach to open up to strike, my eyes turned to Sebastian. The squire waited behind his master, his hand slowly moving to his weapons hilt. I discreetly did the same.

    The squire suddenly looked at me, his pale gray eyes shining in the dark like twin stars. If I may ask, Lord Robin, he said, vaguely amused. When did you start to suspect me?

    Of having an affair? I asked.

    Of leading the Knot of Greed.

    Our swords flew out of their sheaths and shed in a sh of steel.

    Sebastian went straight for my throat. I barely parried in the nick of time, my essence-strengthened rapier struggling to hold back his inhuman strength. The blow threw me off Mudkeeps back and sent me crashing into the grass.

    You have outwitted me, Lord Robin, Sebastian said as our escort drew their weapons, though none more swiftly than Soraseo. But I still have a few cards to y.

    To my surprise, Sebastian jumped off his horse and dived to the ground. Soraseos head snapped towards the enemy camp, her power detecting a detail the others had missed.

    Duke! Soraseo ordered while jumping off her horse. Disperse!

    A few heard in time to obey. Others could only freeze in shock as death imed them.

    I heard the projectileing soaring through the air before it actually hit. A metal spear too long and big for a man to carry cut through our battle line with the strength of a ballista. It skewered three men and their horses, punching through steel and flesh alike.

    By the time I rose back up, chaos had spread through our ranks. Sebastian Leclerc stood strong, with Soraseo and other men-at-arms surrounding him. But he was hardly the most concerning foe. My gaze briefly wandered to the enemy camp, where two great figures rose from behind the fortifications. Twin stone and steel automatons uprooted themselves from the ground, each towering over tents from their fifteen foot tall height. It looked as if two keeps had gone for a walk, their heavy footsteps shaking the ground with bone-jarring force. Darkness seeped from behind their iron helmets, while corrupt essence wreathed their weapons: a greatsword strong enough to cleave a tower in half in the right hand, and a mounted ballista on the left.

    <em>What are those?!</em> I wondered, but not for long.

    Golems! I heard Marika shout from the trenches. Golems!

    Your husband sends his regards, Lady Marika, Sebastian Leclerc gloated, his free hand revealing a small sphere of ceramic. He threw it to the ground and sick yellow gas erupted from the shattered projectile.

    The wind spread Florences cursed pestilence through our ranks.

 Chapter Twenty-Four: Crimes & Punishment

    Chapter Twenty-Four: Crimes & Punishment

    I inhaled gaseous anger and exhaled fresh air.

    My hand reached for the runestones within my purse and seized one filled with wind essence. I raised my weapon and unleashed the power within, allowing a mighty gust to pour out of cracked crystals. My tempest blew Sebastians berserk gas away from our troops and onto the Regents camp.

    I had saved our soldiers from a terrible fate, but Sebastians actions spread confusion among the nearby guards. He exploited the opportunity to cut down a man-at-arms with a swift stroke of his sword. The disguised Soraseo lunged at him before he could escape the encirclement, her de shing with his. Sebastian fought with desperate fury, his blows a flurry of quick shes, but Soraseo parried them all. She pushed him back among the men with a quick counterattack.

    Take him alive! I shouted to the soldiers, my voice drowned out by the noise of blowing horns, desperate shouts, and the thundering steps of the golems. Maintain formation!

    I was wasting my breath. What Archfrosts armiescked in numberspared to the likes of the Everbright Empire, they made up for in discipline and martial excellence. Two knights quickly grabbed one of Sebastians arms and mmed him head-first into the mud. A third swiftly stomped the squires hand with his armored feet, forcing him to drop his weapon.

    Break his fingers, I ordered while drawing my own rapier. Though I disliked it, I proceeded to stab Sebastian in the knees while my soldiers obeyed my order. A muffled scream of pain, surprise, and anger followed, alongside a sickening cracking sound and a fine drizzle of blood feeding the grass below. Sebastian Leclerc wouldnt run away. In fact, I doubted he would walk straight or wield a weapon ever again. Soraseo watched the scene without a word, her weapon ready to strike at the first sign of a demonic transformation.

    We had faced too many foes with unnatural resilience to take risks with this one.

    My relief was short-lived. While the enemy soldiers closest to our position had fallen into a murderous frenzy after inhaling the berserk gas, attacking each other as much as our own advancing infantry, the two golems did not slow down in the slightest. Their metal legs trampled their own fortifications. Their greatswords cut down knights to ribbons, and their ballista arms pointed at us.

    Or more precisely, at the disguised Soraseo.

    She seemed to realize the problem at the same time I did. I will take care of them, she said, her voice still sounding like that of Rnd. You take the traitor.

    She didnt wait for an answer. My heart pounded louder than the drum as I watched her run on foot towards the giant machines, jumping over a trench de in hand. The closest golem fired an iron projectile before she could hit the ground. Soraseo twisted in midair like a dancer executing a well-rehearsed move, the attack missing by an inch andnding on uneven ground instead.

    Normal soldiers would have frozen in shock at such a disy of grace. Golems didnt have enough mental faculties for surprise, let alone admiration. The one closest to Soraseo just swung its sword in a sweeping motion that shattered spikes and men alike. My friend dodged like the wind and retaliated by striking the machines heel. She might as well have grazed a stone statue with a butter knife. Her sword grazed the machines steel tes without inflicting any visible damage.

    I admit that seeing these machines in action filled me with admiration and revulsion in equal measures. Creating a golem was considered the pinnacle of witchcrafting, and more often than not one of its greatest sins. To infuse stone and steel with the will and power to move, a witchcrafter needed more than mere essence. They needed <em>souls</em>. The bigger the golem, the more trapped spirits that were required. Id heard Irem managed to create automatons without that ghastly requirement at the cost of limited autonomy.

    Marikas husband showed no such concern for ethics. He had been willing to murder his own son after all. Now that the golems hade closer, my essence sight picked up the truth in all of its nauseating details.

    Their creator hadnt just trapped souls inside these machines, no. To ensure they would obey orders, he shackled them with pain, drowned their will in a sea of curses, and wove controlling mechanisms within the joints. I could hear them screaming from here.

    Another answered their call for help.

    Cortaner, himself more steel than flesh, emerged from the trenches with burning hands and steady determination. He leaped off the ground with speed and agility beguiling his heavy body. I caught a whiff of wind essence surging from his iron boots and carrying him up. Hended on the second golems head, the one Soraseo hadnt engaged yet, his mighty hands grabbing the golems helmet. The machine raised its sword to intercept him, but our Inquisitor proved faster. His gauntlets ripped off the golems head in a fearsome disy of inhuman strength. Gears and iron wires flew in all directions while the head rolled off the metal shoulders and fell onto the ground.

    It didnt stop the machine, no. I suspected the head was more cosmetic than anything. But the disy of heroic strength more than inspired our soldiers in the face of danger.

    Archfrost! Men shouted, from both our camp <em>and </em>that of the enemies. More and more warriors picked up the cry. Archfrost! Archfrost!

    A war horn echoed and the battlefield took life on all sides. Captains on warhorses barked orders to knights and pikemen. Bowmen fired arrows from the enemy camp and received a volley of crossbow bolts in return. Standard bearers raised their gs, encouraging armed infantrymen and soldiers to advance in good order. Our troops came bolting in behind us, advancing behind walls of shields and pikes. Marika was still in the trenches, building bridges from nothing to help our soldiers storm the enemy camp. The war drums became so close their beats drowned the tter of bashed shields and shing weapons. Trumpets answered them, though I couldnt tell if they were our own or the enemys.

    I felt ill at ease when I witnessed this tide of blood and metal crash on enemy fortifications. Whereas Soraseo navigated the chaos like a fish in a river, I struggled to keep pace with the actions unfolding before my eyes. It was the Knot of Wrath''s attack on Snowdrift all over again, except a hundred times worse. Some men reveled in war and its glories, but I couldn''t see anything appealing in this bloody, senseless chaos.

    <em>Im the Merchant</em>, I thought as a hail of ten arrows fell just short of my feet. The enemy archers struggled to aim correctly in the dark. <em>My job is to prevent this kind of disaster, not participate in it.</em>

    I''d do my duty as a Hero, but the quicker we ended this civil war the better. Letting it start at all felt halfway like a defeat to me.

    That wasnt Rnd, the captive Sebastian rasped at my side. Two knights held him on his bleeding feet, his broken hands bound behind his back. The real one wouldnt keep such a cool head. And you, Lord Robin I saw you inhale the gas and yet you show no symptoms. Antidote?

    It took Colmar two nights to invent one and three of mine to fill our soldiers drinks with it, I replied. While I dearly wanted to assist my allies against these creatures, I had another job to fulfill: securing our invaluable prisoner. Lets take him off the field and back to the reserve.

    Back to the real Rnd.

    My escort quickly bound our prisoners hands and feet with ropes while I searched him. It didnt take me long to find a familiar, ghoulish golden coin hidden beneath Sebastians breastte.

    If you were a demon, you would have transformed by now, I said. It made sense he wasnt one. Demons were rtively easy for us Heroes to detect. Who gave you this coin? You were under surveince for days, so how did you get it?

    You still dont understand, Lord Robin, the squire said with a crooked smile. Nobody gives us the Devil Coins. They find their way to those who need them on their own.

    It wont find its way to <em>you </em>again, I replied before putting the cursed coin in my purse. I climbed back onto Mudkeeps back and gestured at two knights from my escort. You, with me. The others will cover us.

    Since I am still alive, I assume you figured out the truth and mean to interrogate me, Sebastian said with incredibleposure as my soldiers hauled him on Mudkeeps back like a bag of meat. I had yed enough card games to recognize a cheater waiting to reveal the ace up his sleeve. He was convinced we couldnt hope to keep him for long. You havent answered my query, Lord Robin. When did you start to suspect me?

    I shrugged as I gave my horse a light push. When your blood test came back as a paternity one.

    I galloped with my escort away from the frontline and towards the Volvoga River. I was no owl, so I struggled to see much of the action in the darkness. From the looks of it, Marika had created a pathway through the enemy fortifications which led directly into their camp. Our cavalry was starting to storm it.

    However, both golems continued to rampage through our troops. Soraseo had wisely lured one away from our troops so she could handle it without risking anyone else dying in the crossfire. The second one had tossed Cortaner against wooden spikes, shattering thetter, and then swiftly moving on towards Marikas breach. Neither our heavyncers spears nor crossbow bolts dented its steely armor.

    Did Marikas husband put a directive in his creations heads to target his ex-wife? I could only pray Marika could hold on. She was talented and heavily protected, but these giants of steel packed as much power as demons.

    Against my better judgment, I intended to return as soon as I delivered Sebastian into safe hands. I would summon siege engines within firing range of the camp. A good catapult shot might prove powerful enough to take down the golems.

    Paternity? Sebastians smile faded away. Ah, I see how it is. She took more from her mother, but she has my eyes. They <em>all </em>have my eyes.

    I had Colmarpare your blood to that of ire, expecting you to be half-siblings. So imagine my surprise when the test identified you as her <em>father </em>instead. I looked over my shoulder and red at my captive. You look pretty young for someone way over thirty, Sebastian Leclerc.

    Thirty? The number seemed to amuse him again. Oh, Lord Robin, Im older than this <em>country</em>.

    Which made the fact he had been developing a rtionship with Rnd since thetter was a teenager all the more repugnant. I feared what my friends reaction to the truth would be, but he deserved to know. He needed to see it with his own eyes.

    If you are so old, then I assume that Minister Leclerc is just another of your bastards? A decoy meant to attract suspicion while you act unnoticed? I asked without receiving an answer. What I cannot confirm yet is how you managed to craft this disguise of youth. My power cannot grant back lost years.

    Surely someone as cunning as you must have considered other alternatives, my captive replied. One cannot regain time lost, but one can trade a face, a body, youth If you look sixteen, does it matter how old you are on the inside?

    What matters is that youve lost, I replied as we galloped past knights moving in the other direction. The battle was moving away behind us, yet I smelled a foul stench of blood and roting from the river. What was the meaning of this?

    Lost? Sebastian stifled augh. Were you not a gambler once? Dont you know the proverb?<em> It matters not who ys. The house always wins. </em>It does not matter to us who wins this battle, so long as it happens.

    No massacre will happen today, I countered. Your troops will be routed and reinforcements will return home.

    My prisoner chuckled. Dont you <em>feel </em>it in the air?

    I clenched my teeth. I did feel it, yes. The <em>hatred</em>. The invisible, corrupted essence choking the air. The same feeling of unease and filth that filled the <em>Gilded Wolfs</em> arena right before it erupted into a Blight. I felt it in the air, in the smell of blood, in the smoke rising from the warfires.

    Thend of Archfrost is soaked with innocent blood, Sebastian gloated. The wars and gues have filled the graves. The wind carries howls of hatred. The very ground bears stirring curses. The Berserk me burns with malice, heralding its masters return.

    So many tragedies had befallen Archfrost over thest century, and Belgoroth had regained enough strength that the slightest act of ughter was enough to trigger a Blight.

    Moreover, I heard the sound of nging weaponsing from the river. The flow of soldiers was meant to travel only one way, with the reserve forces crossing Marikas bridge to join the vanguard and the hosts core on the other shore. Yet I heard fightinging from the Volgova River.

    <em>Thats impossible,</em> I thought as we approached the riverbank. <em>The enemy reinforcements are days away and our scouts would have noticed skirmishers.</em>

    Then I heard croaks. Frog croaks louder than drums.

    Beastmen.

    The Volgova River came into sight atst under the moonlight. A crescent of Archfrostian pikemen had formed on the riverbank, an imprable hedgehog of spears facing the water. Archers and bowmen had taken position on the other bank, firing arrows into the water and the creatures rising from the Volgova.

    I had heard of the Waterkin, the beastmen of rivers and shallow waters, but it was my first time seeing them in action. Bulbous eyes red from atop toad-like heads emerging to the surface. Sores and warts covered green skin thick enough to stop most arrows. A few of them wore turtle shells and crude armor made of reptilian hides, but all of them carried iron swords, clubs, and other weapons. They were smaller than men, four to five feet tall at best. What theycked in height, they made up for in bulk. Strong muscr hind legs let them jump out of the water in a sh and crash into my allies defenses, their long sticky tongues slithering out of their mouth whenever a spike impaled them through the chest. They croaked and charged without any formation whatsoever, trusting surprise and ferocity to carry the day.

    They werent alone either. Marikas bridge had copsed to pieces, leaving the bulk of our reserve force on the other side of the river and hundreds of our troops were drowning in the river with their horses. They must have been crossing the bridge when the Waterkin pulled it under. The luckiest among them struggled to reach the safety of the shores. The others were dragged to a watery grave by the frogs.

    Two knights dueled among its remains and floating corpses, dancing and shing and thrusting. The first was Rnd, who was still wearing Soraseos armor. He somehow ran on the water<em>on</em> the waterso fast that he didnt sink below the surface, his feet sending sshes and waves rippling whenever he took a step. He had traded Soraseos sword for a spear cackling with lightning essence and red with beastkin blood.

    The other knight was a monster as tall as the golems, a demon exuding a menacing aura. The creature superficially resembled something humanoid d in tarnished ck armor covered in iron barbs, with a baleful burning sword in its right hand and a il in its left. Its metal boots walked on the water''s surface, but unlike Rnd they didnt make a ssh when they moved; in fact, they didnt disturb the water at all. The monster would have seemed almost banal besides its size, if it still had a head between its shoulders; instead of resting on its neck, the oversized human head remained attached to the il, screaming and cursing whenever it missed Rnd.

    I immediately recognized the face as Baron Dolganovs, Ser Hudgans father.

    The man had sold his soul and be a demon.

    I thought he wouldmand the camp, but I guessed beastmen needed hands-on coordination. The Volgova River was usually devoid of them, since the Archfrostians killed them on sight, so this tribe probably traveled all the way from the far north. No way they would fight under a normal humansmand.

    I was quickly considering my options when I felt the weight of Dolganovs malice aimed at me. He had sensed my presence somehow and swiftly abandoned his duel with Rnd to rush in my direction. His feet crossed the river without disturbing the water, and arrows from our soldiers harmlessly bounced off his armor. Rnd immediately chased after him while swiftly cutting down any beastman trying to drag him into the water.

    Curses, hesing at us! I shouted to my soldiers while drawing my sword for battle. Prepare for impact

    I heard a dreadful noise behind me. I looked over my shoulder and found crooked fingers pointing at me, all of them wreathed in corrupted essence.

    One of the knights escorting me acted quicker. His hand dragged Sebastian off my horse and threw him to the ground. A burst of sick purple energy erupted from the squires hands and surged into the sky rather than striking me in the back. Sebastians face aged up visibly, his mask of youth cracking to reveal wrinkles underneath. He was drawing power from his own soul and lifeforce.

    Had he been waiting for me to get away from the other Heroes to attack? Or did he seize his chance to escape upon seeing his demonic ally? Whatever the case, the distraction allowed Delganov to reach the shore before we could mobilize. The demon swung his il at the pikeman wall, his oversized head driving a wedge across our troops. A dozen went down and screaming beastmen soon rushed into the opening. Dolganov went bursting into the gap, charging straight at me.

    It was a miracle that Mudkeep didnt throw me off her back in fear. I held on to her reins with one hand and raised my rapier in the other. A beastman reached me first with a scream and a spiked club. I pierced its eye and impaled his skull, killing it in one blow.

    At this point, the whole situation devolved into a melee. Our soldiers formation copsed under the weight of Dolganovs charge, the men were forced to drop their pikes and switch to short swords in order to fight the beastmen in closebat. My escorts warhorses charged and trampled our foes before they could reach me. I tried not to lose sight of Sebastian, who was trying to rot away his bindings with his youth-draining spell. I spurred my horse to go after him, narrowly avoiding a spear thrown at me from the left. I thrust my rapier into another beastmans head and put another down with a sweeping down-cut, all while closing in on Sebastian.

    But then Dolganovs il hit the ground between my quarry and me.

    Dirt and grass went flying everywhere around us. Mudkeep was a well-trained horse, but still just a horse. She threw me off her back in her fear and surprise. Were it not for the surge of power and agilitying from my mark, I might have broken my neck upon hitting the ground. Instead, I managed tond on my feet like a cat, facing a fifteen-foot tall demon with my horse running away in panic.

    Waybright, Delganovs severed head said, his lips moving without any neck or associated muscles. The giant he had be stepped in front of Sebastian, not to protect him, but to irk me. I have been looking for you. I thought you would stay at the rear like the coward you are.

    If you didnt have your head in the clouds, you would have seen me lead from the front, I replied, wielding my rapier with one hand and grabbing runestones with the other. A taunt should distract him. Hows your son?

    Crawling into a hole somewhere, I suppose. Youve turned him into a spineless freak unfit to be anything more than a squire. The demon knight raised his zing sword. Your blood will wash away the humilia

    I threw a volley of runestones at Dolganov before he could finish. They exploded against his armor in a deafening st of yellow mes and burning anger. The headless knight stumbled back and nearly copsed onto his ally, his breasttes metal melting under the heat.

    What extreme irony. Those pebbles contained the berserk magic Marika and I spent nights purging from Snowdrift.

    Exploiting his briefck of focus, I charged between Dolganovs legs and went after Sebastian. Unfortunately, the false squire had managed to free himself from his bonds by now. Crippled though he might be, he still managed to raise his hand at me and fire a ck orb of darkness in my direction.

    I was forced to dodge by leaping to the side, which gave Dolganov just enough time to recover his bearings. He vertically swung his head-il with a roar of fury. I dived to the ground, the chain missing me by an inch, the giant head sttering beastmen and humans into fine paste. I heard thunder and dying croaks in the distance as Rnd fought his way through the melee.

    The demon followed up by lowering his sword at me. I rolled on the grass and mud to avoid the falling wave of steel and fire. I managed to stab the demons metal heel with my essence-strengthened rapier as I bolted back to my feet. My weapon proved no more effective than a needle.

    Lord Robin! a knight shouted my name. My two escorts showed more bravery than sense and charged at Dolganov on horseback, hoping to nk him. Sebastian sted one with an orb of shadow, killing the horse and causing the beast to copse under its rider. The other knight smashed a spear into the demons leg. The sheer momentum of his horses charge let his weapon punch through Dolganovs armor, the shaft going all the way through the knee. The headless knight nearly stumbled and backhanded his attacker with enough strength to tear him in half.

    A thunderbolt then hit the demon in the chest and brought him down to earth.

    Rnd had thrown his lightning spear across the battlefield like a javelin and aimed straight at Dolganovs heart; if he had any. The weapon erupted with a surge of electricity on impact and steel rang to steel. A bright sh illuminated the night.

    Dolganovs massive body copsed to the side with terrible noise. Shattered pieces of his breastte fell away from him and left a smoking hole in his chest.

    Are you well, my friend? Rnd asked me upon rushing to my side, breaking character and revealing his true identity. What is the situation on the front

    He noticed Sebastian before I could answer.

    The squire had gained twenty years since I carried him away from the enemy camp. His ck hair had grayed slightly and wrinkles had formed on his pallid skin. Yet his identity remained unmistakable. Rnds eyes widened behind his helmet as he recognized his squire.

    So did Sebastian, for he fired a shadowy orb at his liege.

    Rnd could have easily dodged had anyone else tried to attack him. As it was, he simply froze in shock and disbelief. I barely managed to yank him out of the projectiles way at thest second, the orb flying backward into the bloody night. Rnds eyes went wide. His mind clearly struggled to process the attempt on his life.

    At this point, our soldiers had reformed a line to contain the beastmen along the river. Dolganov was down on the shore, with no one standing between Rnd, Sebastian, and myself. This part of the battle was as good as won.

    Yet the vile stench of blood in the air only grew thicker. Was a Blight threatening to spawn?

    Was it all a lie? Rnd asked softly, quietly. From the start?

    Sebastian met his lieges gaze for a moment, then let out the most heartless of sounds.

    A mockingugh.

    Who could ever hope to love a failure like you, Rnd? Sebastian taunted his prince, his grin cold and vicious. Except for your throne and ss, of which you are both equally unworthy.

    Rnds hands tightened into fists. My blood ran cold. I hesitated to punch Sebastian into unconsciousness, but part of me knew our prince needed to hear the truth from his squires voice to ept it.

    I had to stifle myugh at each step of this despicable masquerade, and I expect your wife to do the same, Sebastian continued. We both hoped for the same thing, to rule Archfrost through you.

    Only Rnds eyes were visible through Soraseos helmet. I saw no suppressed tears, no sorrow. Only emptiness and crushing despair. <em>He prayed that I was wrong,</em> I thought grimly. <em>That at least one person would alleviate his loneliness without ulterior motives.</em>

    Betrayal hurt so much because it could onlye from those we trust.

    Im sorry, Rnd, I apologized to him. He didnt seem to hear me. Youre better than him.

    He is a weakling, a spoiled brat sired by an equally ipetent father, Sebastian replied.

    Shut up, I replied, taking a step forward to silence him only to stop when I heard a sounding from Dolganov.

    The demon knights hand was stirring.

    A bastard dog so desperate as to spread his ass to the first person willing to give him a shred of affection. But then again Sebastians smile turned crueler. You like your weapons <em>big</em>, except the one that matters.

    I turned my head to warn Rnd of Dolganovs survival, only to freeze upon meeting Rnds gaze. A terrible anger had filled the emptiness. His eyes burned with the same murderous fury as Florence and Belgoroths servants.

    Your sword, Robin, the prince ordered with a calm, steady voice. "Give me your sword."

    I didntply. Instead, I stood in his way. Rnd, we need him <em>alive</em>

    Rnd shoved me aside so violently that my metal breastte bent slightly under the pressure of his monstrous strength. I fell to my back while Rnd stepped forward towards Sebastian; only stopping to pick up a half-broken spear lying on the ground. Sebastian raised his broken hand, once again channeling darkness through it.

    You killed her, Rnd said coldly.

    I watched as the essence in Sebastians hand fizzled out.

    She loved you, and you killed her, Rnd continued, his ss guiding his words to do the most damage. As he''d warned me in Snowdrift, the Knight''s power knew intuitively how to use words as weapons, even when its wielder wouldn''t understand why they would hurt. You could have saved her, and you did nothing. She burned to death calling out your name. You failed to save her, and you will fail to avenge her.

    Sebastian let out a snarl and fired an orb. Rnd easily deflected it with a swing of his spear, and then brought down his weapon onto his squires shoulder. The de punched through armor and flesh alike, pinning his former lover to the ground.

    I lurched to my feet while Dolganov struggled to rise up. My eyes wandered from him to Rnd, whose left hand was glowing. I saw a golden light pouring from under his gauntlet when he twisted the spear inside Sebastians shoulder, relishing in the traitors pain and suffering. The Knights mark was acting up.

    Mine burned against my skin, the same way it had when I tried to purchase a soul. A dire warning.

    My first order of business should have been to keep Dolganov down for the count, but all my instincts screamed at me that a greater danger approached. I noticed shes of skulls in the wind, corpses stirring in the bloody grass and the cold river, and that bloody smell now growing foul enough to make me nauseous.

    Rnd ripped his spear from Sebastians shoulder and raised it above his heart. The bloodied squire whispered something, a final plea.

    I yield.

    Rnd froze for a brief instant, his spear raised above his helpless foe. Sebastian had used all his vitality to fuel his spell, leaving him frail and withered. He could hardly raise a hand, let alone defend himself. He was beaten and yet he was smiling.

    I saw it clear as day. The Knots true n for Rnd was as cruel as it was brilliant. Why Sebastian had let himself be brought back to the prince he had so thoroughly betrayed.

    I saw a furious Knight raising his bloodied spear to strike down an unarmed, yielding opponent begging for mercy; his mind clouded by betrayal, his mouth frothing with his fallen predecessors anger. His mark burned brightly to warn him away from a sin it would not, <em>could not </em>tolerate. It had seen where that path led a long time ago.

    For the Knight fights for justice and chivalry. The ss embodies the ideal warrior, who draws their de only to defend the dignity of the weak and fights only to win. To torture a helpless man, even a foe, and then strike him down while he begged for mercy went against all that the Knight represented.

    When I vited the rules of my ss, I received a warning because I attempted the wrong trade out of ignorance. But from the pained expression on Rnds face and the way he struggled to hold his own spear as his mark burned beneath his glove, he had to understand he was going against his Knight ss will.

    He was simply too angry to care.

    When Rnd brought down his weapon, I knew what would follow. His victims blood would fall onto the mark and stain it red. The Knight would revel in the wrathful murder and bask in the corruption of this emerging Blight. The curse that the Knots had methodically cultivated in Archfrost would find a vessel in which to incarnate. I would witness a new demons baptism.

    At best, the mark would kill Rnd on the spot rather than let itself be corrupted; at worst, it would fail, and we would have two Belgoroths to deal with.

    So I ran, shouting, Rnd, enemy behind you!

    Even in his angry daze, my warning startled Rnd enough for him to look over his shoulder. He saw no one. No one but me rushed at him. I ignored the wounded Dolganov rising again behind, the sh of our soldiers holding the river, and even the explosions echoing in the distance from the enemy camp.

    I tackled Rnd to the ground before he couldnd the final blow.

    What are you doing?! he snarled as we tumbled in the bloody grass away from Sebastian.

    Saving your life! I shouted back while trying to hold him the best I could. I might as well be wrestling with a bear. I somehow managed to make him lose his hold on his spear at least. And your soul!

    Let me go! Rnd was still angry, but at least he had temporarily forgotten about Sebastian. Instead, he pushed me off him and sent my purse falling off my belt.

    A golden coin escaped it.

    My eyes widened in astonishment as it bounced away from us. It shouldnt have gotten that far, not on such uneven ground. But it did. It was as if an invisible hand guided the Devil Coin into another.

    Sebastians.

    My mark burned so hot I thought it would melt my hand.

    So much for <em>that </em>n I heard him rasp with anger, his gray eyes ring at me. He raised his prize in his bloody palm. Lady Daltia, Devil of Greed and Golden Strategist! Ivee to bargain!

    The Devil Coin glowed brighter than the sun and painted the world with gold.

    A tide of color overwhelmed the battlefield and silenced its cacophony. The blowing wind, the shing of swords and shields, the croaks, and the howls all were snuffed out like candlelight and reced with oppressive silence.

    The very world had be stiff and still. Thend and sky now shared a golden hue, clouds of smoke and des of grass alike frozen halfway through their movements. Rnd had turned into a statue of gold, his paralyzed hands struggling to shove me back. His soldiers, the beastmen, even Dolganov shared his fate. All had be petrified statues trapped in a cocoon of glittering wealth.

    The march of time hade to an abrupt stop. I was alone in a silent world.

    Almost alone.

    Sebastian was still bleeding to death, holding onto his cursed coin as he looked up into the sky. A great bright light was falling upon him from above. I looked up at its source, my mark burning against my skin.

    The Goddess Herself descended from the heavens.

    Or at least, that was how that woman first appeared to me. Her ethereal beauty left me short of breath. Her unblemished skin seemed carved from white marble, her fair face perfectly chiseled by an expert artist. She looked young, yet with the wisdom and maturity of a divine figure. Desirable, yet unattainable. Humanly familiar, yet heavenly distant.

    Her long floating hair was woven from silver threads and held by a gilded crown mimicking feathers. It didnt shine half as bright as the four wings of solid gold spouting from her back and carrying her down to earth. Her regal, silken dress floated as if blown by an invisible wind. Every single part of her attire screamed wealth; but a true goddess would have nothing to prove, would she? As beautiful as this figure was, she was simply a counterfeit trying to copy and usurp the real deal.

    The golden skull-faced coin mark on her left hand, so simr to mine, only further unveiled the deception.

    The figure descended towards Sebastian like the true Goddess once descended upon Pangeal, a long gilded scroll unfurling in her hands. Yet her golden eyes paid little attention to Sebastian, who had summoned her in the first ce. The Devil of Greed smiled mischievously at me; her expression felt ungodly familiar, even though I couldnt recognize her visage.

    Hello Robin, she said with a sweet singing voice carrying a thousand promises. Do you want to make a deal?

 Chapter Twenty-Five: The Golden Hell

    Chapter Twenty-Five: The Golden Hell

    I faced my predecessor, my shadow, my opposite. She glided towards me on golden wings carried by an invisible wind, her feet never touching the ground. She offered me her marble hand and all the powers in the world with a godly smile.

    I answered by throwing my dagger at her servant.

    I knew it would most likely fail. The Devil of Greed had enough power to stop the march of time, or at least fool my senses into believing she did, so she could likely stop the projectile in midair. Targeting her directly would probably lead to my death at worst, or nothing at best. For all I knew, the winged woman before me was nothing more than a projection.

    But if she was indeed a fallen Merchant from ages past, then she had to obey the same rules I did. Sebastian had summoned her to make a deal like Sforza, Chastel, and their ilk all did before him. If he perished, then it would probably break whatever sorcerypelled the Devil of Greed to appear.

    I couldnt be sure until I tried.

    My de flew across the gilded sky without a sound. It did not whistle nor did it cut through any air. It barely made it halfway to its destination before vanishing into a shower of light. When I blinked in surprise at the sudden sh, I realized it hadnt left my hand at all.

    A clever attempt, Robin, but a useless one. If anything, my gesture only amused the Devil of Greno, Daltia. She sounded less frightening when I called her by name in my mind. You cannot harm me here, no more than I can harm you. This ideal space born of our powers will only allow for trades to happen within it.

    I knew better than to believe a master maniptor and ver of souls, but if she was telling the truth I took a step towards her, grabbed my rapier, and lunged for the kill. I ran faster than a debtor on the run, yet the gap between us did not close at all. The very fabric of space appeared to lengthen to ensure I would never reach my destination.

    Daltia covered her mouth with a hand and stifled herughter, her servant smirking at me with a bloody grin on his oh-so-punchable face. No violence would happen within this frozen time.

    It seems we are at an impasse, I noted after finally giving up; for now.

    We are, Daltia replied with sereneposure, her golden gaze ncing at her wounded servant. Until Sebastian and I conclude our business at least.

    The man was still on the verge of death. Rnd had left a big bleeding hole in his shoulder, not to mention the beating my allies had given him earlier. He had burned thirty years of his life or more in his failed attempt to corrupt or kill his ex-lover. If I somehow managed to convince Rnd to spare his life, Sebastian would certainly bleed to death in minutes unless given immediate medical attention.

    However, Daltias clock-shattering feat of magic had granted him more time. Sebastians wounds no longer bled, at least for now.

    I thank you for setting up this meeting, my friend, Daltia said with a soothing voice carrying the song of choirs and trumpets. How long has it been since I offered to purchase your soul? Four centuries? Three?

    Ive lost count, Mdy, the traitor replied. I didnt miss the weariness and caution in Sebastians voice. No matter his pretended allegiance to the Knot of Greed, he clearly showed apprehension at selling his soul to the very Devil he served.

    Betterte than never, as they say, Daltia said lightly before tilting her head back in my direction. Do you know that he is a grandson of the archmage Apocris? He has quite the noble lineage.

    Apocris? The sorcerer-tyrant? I struggled to believe it. Apocris had been an Iremian archmagician and dictator whose cruelties led to the creation of the Erebian League four hundred and a half years ago. His own oppressed people had cut him to ribbons and thrown him into a pit with the heroes help. Seems that seal didnt work out so well if youve been active for so long.

    My body may have been entombed, but so long as my treasure changed hands I can retain some influence, Daltia confirmed. I have been cultivating assets for a very long time.

    What did Sebastian call her? The <em>Golden Strategist</em>? Somehow I had the feeling she had earned that title for more than making a few deals with foolish men. I wondered how much of the Demon Ancestors escape was due to mankinds loss of faith or just her own influence. Since she was in no hurry to conclude her deal with Sebastian, I assumed she meant to add me to her list of pawns.

    This could be an excellent opportunity to gather information and an equally risky gamble.

    Herment about her body being entombed implied that the figure in front of me was nothing more than a projection, but she could still harm me if I spoke foolishly or agreed to a deal. My power had twisted enough requests that I knew better than to underestimate her, even without the threat of violence on the horizon.

    Sebastian and I go back a long time. For a Demon Ancestor nning to conquer the world, Daltia appeared rather friendly and talkative; but then again, so had <em>Chastel</em>. Long before he was called Sebastian. I granted him eternal youth in exchange for his service.

    I should have known the Knot of Greeds leader and patron would have a transactional rtionship rather than a religious one.

    Are you actually stopping time? I asked the Demon Ancestor, my mind racing for a way out of this bind. Or is this just an illusion?

    Daltia smiled at me, her teeth more radiant than stars. What difference does it make?

    A <em>big </em>one.

    Not as much as you think, Robin. Facing her golden gaze felt like letting her peer into my soul. By now, you should have noticed that our power turns perception into reality. If every Archfrostian man believes that your princely friend owns this country, then he does as far as our sses are concerned.

    I put on a nk face to hide my surprise. I knew perception yed a key role in how my power considered the concept of <em>ownership</em>, but Id assumed that it depended on my <em>ss </em>perception of it.

    Yet here she suggested that popr opinion yed a bigger role?

    Whenever your power activates to validate the trade, the world looks like this, Daltia said as she floated under a golden sky. A gilded space where all things and concepts are grounded down into wealth and values to be traded. The process simply happens so fast that your mind cannot see it.

    You began a trade when Sebastian touched your coin, I guessed. But we are trapped on the transfers threshold until you hammer out the details.

    Daltia confirmed my hypothesis with a sharp nod. You possess a strange intuition when ites to your power, Robin, she ttered me. You are more in tune with it than most of your predecessors.

    I red at her without giving up any sensitive information. How do you know my name?

    I have been following your progress with great interest since the night the mark selected you. I daresay that I understand you better than the heroes you call friends. She pointed at my mark. You and I are walking down the same path after all.

    Lies. You have wings, so youre clearly flying ahead.

    If it is wings that you want, then buy them. You are the Merchant. Your eloquence can bend the world to your will. Daltia chuckled lightly. I have a few wings to spare myself.

    Is that why youvee? To sell me feathers? I mocked her.

    What I want is a moment of your time, she replied, her tone unwavering. But we can haggle for a few boons if you want.

    No deal, I replied immediately.

    You will not even try a token negotiation? Daltiasughter sounded like coins falling on a pile of treasure. How un-Merchant of you, Robin.

    You are an ancient demon infamous for her cunning, with centuries more experience than me and wielding unknown magic I do not yet understand. I was a daredevil, true, but I knew when to leave the table with my earnings rather than wage a doomed fight. When the game is rigged, the best y is to sit it out.

    I will take that as apliment. Which it was, in a way. I could not risk underestimating her. And I apud your caution. It is not unwarranted in your current situation. You are wiser than most.

    Thank you, I replied without any sincerity whatsoever. My skill at empty tterygs behind yours though.

    Give it time, you will catch up to me one day. I realized that Daltia was the worst kind of demon: the one with a sense of humor. But truthfully, you do not have a choice whether or not to listen to my plea. I am all too willing to speak to a silent wall.

    I am no silent wall, I said. For all I knew, answering <em>suit yourself </em>would cause Daltia to transform me into a real wall. If she could seal souls in coins, then her power was nowhere near as constricted as mine. Say your piece if you want, but I do not consent to anything.

    Ah, <em>consent</em>. An honest deals greatest obstacle. Even I cannot ovee it by force. Daltia folded her scroll in her hand. Then let me <em>non-consensually</em> deliver the truth unto you; the great secret of the Seven Great sses that the Fatebinder is so desperately trying to hide from you.

    Ah, of course. A typical attempt at sowing distrust in my heart. She would likely lie, or maybe not. A half-truth could prove more damaging.

    What if I refuse to listen? I asked.

    Then you can ignore me until I finish, decide what to do with the information for yourself, and I will tend to my business with Sebastian. The Devil of Greed smiled at her servant. Will you allow me a moment to plead my case, my friend?

    Sebastian replied with a crooked smile, a hand on his wound. I am in no position to deny you, Lady Daltia.

    No, you most certainly are not, Daltia conceded with what could pass for pleasantness. She almost sounded concerned for his opinion. <em>Almost</em>. I swear I will not take too long.

    <em>Shes different from Belgoroth</em>, I thought. I was a people person, but I struggled to grasp the Demon Ancestors personality. <em>And infinitely more dangerous.</em>

    I had received a vision of the Devil of Greeds memories when I attempted my first and only soul trade. I had seen through her eyes when she delivered a great speech about <em>refining </em>people she considered worthless into golden statues to hoard over. I had felt her bottomless avarice and unbearable arrogance.

    Daltia still had plenty of both, as her bombastic decision to appear as the Goddess incarnate and cover the world in gold attested. However, she appeared surprisingly casual and hid her calcting mind under a veil of friendliness. Belgoroth had been hatred incarnate and terribly blunt in his desire to burn Archfrost to the ground. He was bloodstained steel; whereas his colleague was refined, focused, and oozing cunning.

    If she had been willing to interrupt an entire battle for the sake of having a brief discussion with me, then it meant this conversation would somehow y arger role in her n than the death of thousands.

    Forgive me if I do not expect honesty from you, I said, choosing my words carefully. Unless you would sell me your ability to lie?

    I have already done that, Daltia replied with amusement. More seriously, surely you must have figured out what we so-called Demon Ancestors are by now.

    You are the first generation. That was obvious. <em>Our</em> ancestors.

    But have you not wondered how it is that I can wear the Merchants mark at the same time you do?

    A trick question. Yes, Id pondered the question ande to a likely conclusion. This might be the opportunity to confirm my hypothesis.

    Theyre different sets, I replied. Your mark possesses the abilities of the Merchant, the Artisan, and the Alchemist; thebination of which is greater than the sum of its parts. The Goddess split the second set of marks to ensure none of us heroes would umte too much power again.

    You are half-right, the Demon Ancestor answered with a mischievous smirk. Once again it felt oh so familiar to me, but I couldnt put my finger on why. Your generations marks are different from ours, and the Seven Great sses were diluted by the creation of Vassals but the Goddess did not make them.

    I held my tongue. That was another possibility Colmar and I considered long ago, back when the Snowdrift Blight manifested. We had asked Eris if our marks functioned the same way by harvesting the beliefs of humans.

    Then whom? I asked.

    The Four Artifacts, my predecessor replied. But perhaps it is best that I start this tale from the very beginning.

    Daltia waved her hands. Six silhouettes of golden light appeared at her side, their shapes almost indistinct. I barely identified some key features: an old man in priestly robes; a hooded figure, neither male nor female; a savage woman with a bow

    I recognized one however: the lion-helmeted armor of Belgoroth, the Lord of Wrath.

    Nearly a thousand years past, the Goddess still lived among us humans, guiding and nurturing us, Daltia exined. When the time came for her to depart from Pangeal and craft new worlds in the sky, she entrusted mankind with a final gift: seven sses that would embody the ideals to which our race could aspire. She selected seven paragons who had lived up to her expectations, gifted us with our marks, and then tasked us to shepherd her creations to greatness until her return.

    I waved a hand at the frozen battlefield around us; the dreadful result of her and her allies machinations. A job for which you and your cohorts have proven wholly unsuited for.

    Daltias smile faltered and her gaze sharpened. None of this pointless ughter is my doing, Robin. Am I forcing the thousands of soldiers on each side to battle for this princeling or another?

    I helped set the stage for this conflict, that is true, Sebastian rasped. But Rnd, his father and uncle set it on fire themselves like the boars they are.

    You are stillplicit, I replied, unimpressed. Cortaner had the right to it. I was sick of people making up excuses for their inexcusable behavior. You would have murdered Rnd by stabbing him in the back had I not stopped you.

    And he would have in Sebastian out of anger in retaliation, Daltia said, her cold eyes settling on the petrified statue of gold that used to be Rnd. Even knowing full well that it would be his doom and the end of his own ss.

    Hes not perfect, I will concede that. And so what? I scoffed. Is that your excuse for helping Belgoroth set the world on fire? That our Knight is only <em>human</em>?

    Belgoroth Daltia nced at the Lord of Wraths mirage with what could pass for a look of fondness. He has always been too passionate by half. He thinks mankind is beyond salvation, perhaps not unreasonably, and that we should destroy it all to make way for something new. Personally, I prefer more <em>constructive </em>methods.

    I see nothing constructive in this pointless ughter, as you well called it. Unless I squinted at the false goddess. You do not share your teammates objective?

    No, I do not, Daltia confirmed; and for once, I believed her. Our interests sometimes converge, but Belgoroth and I wish to build two very different worlds if <em>build </em>is the appropriate term in my friends case.

    Then how did she profit from this war? Did she hope to see us heroes and Belgoroth ughter one another? Or was her demonic ally meant to distract us from her true underground activities? Maybe she hoped that freeing Belgoroth would empower her by proxy.

    But we have digressed enough, Daltia said as she returned to her tale. When the Goddess departed Pangeal, we did our best to fulfill hermand. We fought monsters, dealt with Blights, cured the sick, built bridges, and inspired mortals to do better but for one problem we solved, two more arose.

    <em>Mortals</em>. She spoke of her own kind as if she belonged to another.

    The truth of the matter is that my generation still works to fulfill humanitys wishes, Robin, said Daltia. That these wishes are corrupt and unworthy is another matter entirely. Desire for pain. Desire for gold and immortality. Desire for love, fame, and power. There is something fundamentally broken about this world, Robin. With the human heart itself.

    What a fantastically novel realization: the world is wed. I snorted in disdain. And I suppose that is when you and yourpatriots decided to take it over because you would do a better job?

    She didnt even deny it. Someone had to try to show them the way forward, Robin.

    Well I pointed at the petrified men and beastmen fighting to the death around us, their conflict only held back by the paralyzed flow of time. That turned out great, didn''t it?

    History did not go as I nned, Daltia conceded, a look of contrition on her face. I didnt think someone like her could be capable of regrets, but she could certainly fake it. At first, I experimented with my power and the nature of the human soul to figure out a solution to the unfulfilled desires and torments that gued mankind.

    Something shifted in the air as she spoke. The golden figures of the Demon Ancestors turned red, their heavenly aura ovee with inner malice. A terrible smirk stretched on Daltias marble face.

    But then I uncovered a great and dangerous secret. A piece of information that changed <em>everything</em>. Her wings fluttered with golden light. What do you think is the fundamental difference between the Seven Great sses and their Vassals, Robin?

    I had a pretty good idea. The former deals with concepts, thetter with the material world.

    Yes. While what you call Vassal sses work within the bounds of tangible reality, the Merchants and Knights of the world turn the metaphorical and the intangible into reality. Once again that mischievous look shed in Daltias eyes. But who decides who owns what, or what constitutes a weapon?

    The first answer that came to mind was our sses... but the way she worded her question implied a deeper meaning. I reviewed her sentence in my mind, until I noticed a worrying detail.

    <em>Who, she said</em>, I realized, <em>not what.</em>

    The Goddess, who was gone from the world? The Four Artifacts she left behind, and who could hardly agree on anything? None of these proposals sounded right, which only left

    Mankind? I muttered as the pieces fell into ce.

    I remembered my discussion with Eris after the Snowdrift Blight formed; how the Arcane Abbey spent much effort stamping out the names of the Demon Ancestors so they wouldnt passively hoard essence from those who feared and worshiped them, and how they had sealed these fiends by harnessing the power of human belief. This implied that mere awareness and understanding of a concept could affect its essence.

    The Blights were proof enough that collective human feelings could change reality. Compounding pain gestated into a womb of darkness and monsters. Powerful enough anger allowed Belgoroth to fuel the birth of a smokeless me.

    You have reached the truth, Robin, Daltia congratted me, her golden eyes flickering. Our sses are connected to Pangeals flow of essence, to the collective consciousness and feelings of all life. Your mark does not determine who owns what. It simply looks at the current consensus and draws its conclusion from it. If most of humanity believes that you own something you purchased with your money, then it is true.

    The terrible implications hit me like cold water. But that means that if everyone <em>believes </em>that you own the wind or the moon

    Then I will as far as my power is concerned.

    I stared at this proud Devil wrapped in a false goddess gown. She didnt dress this way for the sake of impressing one unlucky fool, but all of them. If she convinced enough people that she was a living goddess or demon with dominion over human souls, then her ss would eventually make her wishe true.

    The seven of you dont want to rule the world, I realized, horrified by the scale of her mad ambition. You want to reshape it in your own twisted image.

    Obviously, we encountered resistance. Daltia waved her hand and new golden silhouettes appeared to face the Demon Ancestors. A cup spilling water; a sword wrapped in wind; a wand bursting fire; and a coin growing tree roots into the earth. The Four Artifacts, those foolish tools, disagreed with our glorious design. But they could not remove our sses. Only the Goddess Herself could, and she had long departed this world.

    So they decided to fight fire with fire, I guessed, a detailed narrative of events forming in my mind. They improved upon the prototype and erased its ws.

    <em>Improved</em>? Daltia scoffed. Your generation wields a fraction of our power by design, Robin. The Four Artifacts fractured the seven into twenty-one to dilute their magic and created a twenty-second that would oversee them; the Fatebinder. A living leash that would prevent any generation from rising to the same heights as ours.

    Considering how Daltia and Belgoroth had turned out, I couldnt truly me the Four Artifacts for being cautious.

    Many other Merchants before you left notes and observations on their powers; myself included. The Fatebinder has many of them stored away. Daltia tilted her head to the side like a curious owl staring at mice. Why do you think she never shared them with you?

    I kept my mouth shut and let her fill in the void. At worst she would gloat, at best she would slip a key piece of information I hadnt gathered yet.

    The Fatebinder fears you, Robin, the Devil of Greed said. She fears what you and your generation can aplish. That you might rise to rival us and reach the same conclusions that we did. That we shouldnt preserve this wed world as it <em>is</em>, but rebuild it as it <em>should be</em>. As we wish it to be.

    Is this the moment where you ask me to join you? I had been waiting for that one from the start. That we can own Pangeal together as Devil and Merchant?

    Daltia slowly raised an eyebrow. Would you say yes if I offered it?

    It might be a tempting offer for sure if it came from anyone else, I replied. I knew better than to ept a demons bargain, even a pretty one. Besides, I do not want to own the world. I just want to move it in the right direction.

    Daltiaughed, the figures she had summoned vanishing out of thin air. What do you think I am doing right now?

    Sowing war for your own profit, I replied, unimpressed. Buying souls, starting Blights, spreading gues

    Sebastian, who hadnt dared interrupt his mistress discussion, let out a mockingugh. We cultivate and harness human sins for our purposes, but we do not create them, he said. The unworthy masses do.

    You have witnessed it for yourself in Snowdrift, Daltia said. Hundreds of corrupt fools cheering on the death of their kindred in an arena, screaming and betting on the lives of their fellow man. Countless scenes like this one unfold as we speak, most without any demon to whisper in listening ears; as they have repeated since the dawn of life.

    You certainly arent helping people break from that pattern, I pointed out.

    I didnt buy their excuses. Almost all the problems Id encountered since leaving Ermeline were rted to the Knots and Demon Ancestors in some way. Whether the systemic evils of society empowered them or vice-versa, Pangeal would certainly be a better ce without them in it.

    Daltia brushed me off. Belgoroth did not invent war, Robin. War made <em>him</em>. Stained him. So long as humans wish to harm their fellow man, my old friend will indulge them. Even if you put him down and lock him up, he will be at it again in a few centuries.

    But the world will be free of him for that length of time, and you by the same asion, I countered, holding her golden gaze. I have peered into your memories. I have seen you turn men to gold for no other crime than being considered worthless.

    Are some lives not worthless? she replied, sounding genuinely curious.

    Mayhaps, I agreed. The world would certainly be a better ce with fewer Chastels and Sebastians in it. But its not an excuse to <em>own </em>them. People arent a group of assets to be used and discarded at will.

    Humans werent resources. They were fellow people <em>with </em>resources. Forgetting that key difference was how Daltia ended up with a basement full of golden statues.

    You are a Merchant, Robin, my predecessor said calmly. If one person suffers so ten more can be happierter, that is a gain for the universe. I do not seek mankinds destruction, only its material prosperity and spiritual elevation.

    I do not believe you, I replied bluntly. Even now I was surrounded by evidence of her many crimes. Your actions do not match your words.

    Believe what you want. Daltia let out an all too human shrug. I will confess tomitting a few errors in my youth, but seven centuries is a long time to reflect on oneself. I am not certain you can fully appreciate my design yet but I hope that you will in due time. Your power can do much more for the world than transferring skills and years around.

    Her tone implied that our discussion was done. She had said her piece.

    What was her game? Giving me information she hoped would sow distrust between me and the Fatebinder? Try to tempt me with power in the hope it would corrupt me like her servant attempted to twist Rnds ss?

    Daltia had taken quite the risk by delivering key information to me today, if I assumed any of it was urate. The belief information had the potential to greatly empower my ss and thus make me an even more troublesome foe if I decided to oppose her. Why give away so much for seemingly nothing in return?

    Whatever her n was, figuring it out would be a problem for another time. Daltia suddenly lost all interest in me and turned back to Sebastian.

    My servant true, whose heart burns to avenge loves loss, the Demon Ancestor said with a singing voice echoing with a thousand false promises. A contract I offer. Give me thy immortal soul, bearer of power true, and I shall give shape to your wish.

    She floated closer to him and unfurled her golden scroll. Countless namesthousands, perhaps millionswere scribbled as ming letters on its thin paper. A tiny space was left nk at the bottom, waiting for another fool to join the legion.

    Sebastian looked at it with a hint of apprehension. He had lived long enough to know the consequences of selling ones soul to a demon; after all, he had spent many centuries putting it off.

    I sensed my chance and seized it.

    Dont! I shouted. Though I could not physically stop Sebastian from signing this agreement, Daltia appeared unable to silence me. I will make you a better deal!

    While Daltia appeared utterly unperturbed, Sebastian nced at me in disbelief. Will you heal my wounds? he asked sarcastically.

    Yes, I replied. My power would let me transfer the worst of it to someone else, and it beat fighting yet another demon. I can assure your safety and medical treatment. Youll live, even if you dont deserve it.

    In a cage, Sebastian replied, before pointing at Rnd with his chin. If he doesnt get to me first.

    Ill talk him out of it. Certainly. Hopefully. And itll be better for you than to lose your soul. You wouldnt have hoarded it for so long if you didnt know its value. When Sebastian remained silent, I decided to go for the jugr. Dont you want to see ire again?

    When Sebastian flinched, I knew I had pounced on his weakness.

    I know you ordered Florence to keep her alive, I said. You care for her and want her in your life. Its not toote for that, but only if you surrender.

    Of course, I knew ire would probably want nothing to do with her father but he didnt have to know that.

    You bear your mark well, Robin, Daltiaplimented me, her golden pupils flickering with what could pass for fondness. But you still have much to learn when ites to human greed. He did not care for his daughter for who she was, but what she represented: an extension of the woman he loved and sought to avenge a lost treasure that I can return to him.

    Sebastian clenched his jaw in displeasure. His patrons words had clearly wounded his pride. I love my daughter.

    You do, Daltia replied with an insincere tone. But if you had to choose between the mother and the daughter, which one would you take? Which one would you sacrifice for the others sake?

    Sebastian mulled over her words without answering. In this case, his silence spoke volumes.

    As I thought, Daltia said. These are the terms I offer. Forget the daughter, and the mother shall be returned to you.

    Shit.

    She cant raise the dead, fool! I argued. I couldnt be certain, but it sounded likely. All she can do is turn you into a demon. How will that bring your lost love back?

    My words were wasted the moment they escaped my mouth. I could see it in Sebastians gray eyes as they stared back at the contract. He did not trust me, and would rather be damned than be surrendered to Rnds vengeance. He preferred an empty hope and easy fix over a difficult future.

    I will return her to you, Daltia insisted to Sebastian, who still hesitated. I will give you the power to reunite with her and avenge her loss. To fill the hole in your heart. You can take the possibility of being spared, or the certainty of seeing your deepest desire fulfilled.

    Sebastian gathered his breath, hesitated onest time, and then whispered two small words under his breath.

    I consent, he said softly.

    A new name burned onto the contract, written in ancient Erebian, and the golden world trembled. A terrible pulsation akin to a drum echoed across the frozennd, filling the silence with its noise.

    I had to cover my eyes as a torrent of blinding light erupted from the sky. I saw a gilded chain surge from the clouds above and strike Sebastians chest. The man screamed as the phantasmal link buried itself into his flesh. Within seconds, it had extracted a translucent silhouette from the mans body; the ghost of a gaunt, wizened old man carrying the weight of centuries.

    A soul.

    All that was left inside Sebastians husk were his sins and desires. His selfish wish refined to its purest form. Its essence erupted like a volcano and stained its container, reshaping the squires body into a physical materialization of its inner darkness. His flesh twisted in impossible ways, burying his eyes and mouth under ayer of skin, growing arms and legs

    I had little to learn from witnessing this horrible transformation. Instead, I forced myself to observe the chain as it retreated with its prize into the sky, like a fishermans hook having sessfully caught its dinner. I squinted and peered at Daltias terrible work.

    An immense whirlpool of screaming ghosts gathered in the golden sky. Thousands of souls, if not millions of immortal spirits, floated in silent torment, bound by a chain longer than any river. Sebastian was but itstest link. The chain coiled like a snake around the source of the light, a sun so bright I could not see past the glow, but which I could listen to.

    Thump. <em>Thump</em>. <em><strong>Thump</strong></em>.

    My blood ran cold as I realized it wasnt a drums music I heard, but a heartbeat. A pulseing straight from the center of this unnatural maelstrom.

    Daltia was feeding something with the souls she harvested.

    Something <em>alive</em>.

    Until next time, Robin, Daltia bade me farewell as she floated away into the light. We will meet again soon.

    The light swallowed me whole and time resumed at once.

    The sound of battle erupted all around me, the sh of weapons recing the beating heart in the sky. Daltia was gone alongside her dreadful whirlpool of souls. But I had returned to a world fraught with danger.

    Out of my way! I felt a hand grab my shoulder and prepare to shove me aside. Rnd. He cannot be allowed to

    The furious prince froze in ce, as I did.

    A grotesque creature stood where Sebastian once writhed in pain.

    I knew it was no longer Sebastian himself. Id seen his soul ripped from his flesh. All that remained were the evils and twisted desires he had left behind. An echo and twisted reflection, which had taken his body for its own and reshaped it into a monster.

    Rnd faced a shambling mound of white flesh nearly three meters tall, naked and hideous. The horror looked like the result of a mad necromancers attempt to stitch a man and a womans corpses together: a breast and feminine arm whose shoulder was topped by a malformed head on the left side; a massive arm thicker than a trees trunk and mighty muscles on the right. The genitals were missing alongside the face. Onlyyers uponyers of stitched skin covered the skull.

    The monster raised its hands closer as if to examine them in spite of its absence of eyes. If it noticed our presence, it showed no hint of it. Rnd recovered quicker than me. He quickly grabbed the broken spear he had tried to murder his squire with and prepared to finish the job, when a great shadow loomed over us.

    Baron Dolganov had risen to his feet and raised his head-il to crush us.

    Rnd! I shouted a warning, but the Knight did not need it. He threw the broken spear with more strength than ten humansbined and aimed straight for the chest. His projectile smashed through the demons armored chest and erupted from the other side. Dolganov copsed back onto the ground, and I quickly stabbed his head-il with my rapier to make sure he would not rise again. His face let out a final screech as it bled to death on the grassy ground.

    The demons scream woke hispatriot from its torpor. The monstrous Sebastian tilted its head in our direction, then snapped its fingers. Screaming dust gathered around it like a cloak. He vanished in the blink of an eye, gone with the howling wind.

    No! Rnd snarled in anger. He rushed to the spot Sebastian used to upy and knelt, his hands searching the ground as if his enemy had somehow dug out of sight. No, no, no!

    As much as it annoyed me to see Sebastian escape us, we had more urgent matters to deal with. I could feel the foulness in the air, as did the beastmen. The Waterkin croaked madly as they broke lines and rushed back into the river, abandoning the fight with our surprised soldiers.

    While Dolganovs corpse evaporated into a dark red cloud, leaving only a cursed coin behind him, the stench of blood and death in the air only grew stronger. The wind started to carry phantom screams and foul essence seeped out of thend.

    A Blight was overtaking the area.

    Either the ughter had reached its peak, or the birth of a new demon gave it the push it needed to manifest. Whatever the case, I already saw its effects. The corpses of our dead stirred in the river as evil possessed them, and screaming faces started to grow out of the earth like mushrooms. We only had minutes left before monsters started to appear.

    Rnd, we need to evacuate before the Blight fully manifests! I argued with the Knight after grabbing Dolganovs Devil Coin. Lets regroup with Marika and seal off the area!

    Not without Sebastian! he snarled back at me as he rose, looking around for his treacherous lover. He cannot have gone far! Search the area and

    I punched him in the face.

    It hurt me more than him, since he wore Soraseos helmet, but it did snap him out of his obsession. He stared at me in shock.

    Youve punched me, Rnd said in disbelief.

    Youre a prince and a Knight! I snarled at him, unrepentant. The sky was starting to turn red from the blood-soaked essence spreading around us. Your duty is to protect your own! So go save your men and live up to your titles!

    Rnd clenched his fists, and for a brief second I thought he would punch the head off my shoulders in his rage. But my words had reached him. He looked around, at his soldiers, at the ever-increasing signs that disaster loomed upon us.

    And he did the right thing.

    Soldiers, gather around me! Rnd shouted. A few of his soldiers appeared surprised to hear their princes voicee out of Soraseos armor, but his natural authority caused them to quickly fall in line. I will cut a way forward!

    I had saved Rnd from himself this time.

    I wasnt sure I could do it again.

 Chapter Twenty-Six: Wrath & Greed

    Chapter Twenty-Six: Wrath & Greed

    By the time dawn rose beyond the horizon, I could hardly stand on my own two feet.

    The night had been won, but at a cost. When the Blight started to manifest, Rnd revealed his face to his soldiers and managed to rally them away from danger. Though our army remained partly split by the Volgova River, pegasus riders ryed orders to the troops and the famous Archfrostian discipline prevailed in short order.

    Unfortunately, unlike with Snowdrift, where Marika managed to contain the Blight inside the <em>Gilded Wolf</em>s confines, the chaos of the battle prevented us from doing the same here. The wicked essence swept across the Volgova Rivers western side like a wildfire, corrupting the verynd and air. Trees grew screaming faces and our own dead arose as shambling corpses to torment the living. I spent the rest of the night sending undead back to the Soulforge one strike at a time.

    By the time our troops rejoined Soraseos own and regrouped in the Icewind ins, the battle was won on all fronts. Dolganovs death and our surprise night attack had thoroughly disorganized the Regents army, letting our soldiers sweep through the enemys camp like a horse stampede. Wed shattered the enemy force beyond recovery.

    I wasnt entirely certain whether this victory was worth the creation of a new Blight and Sebastians escape. Both events definitively soured my mood.

    Moreover, wed suffered casualties; especially from the beastmen ambush and the two golems the Knots deployed. Soraseo had brought down the first on her lonesome by targeting its joints after luring it away from the camp, but the second had rampaged through our infantry even after Cortaner tore off its head from its shoulders. Hundreds perished by the time he and Marika managed to bring it down, trampled to death by the blinded war machine.

    I supposed it was the cost of war, but a part of me kept wondering what we could have done to improve our tactics. Had I been wrong to order Sebastian captured instead of killed? Rnd in particr gave me the cold shoulder all night long over the matter.

    He still invited me to his council in the morning, though he put me as far away from him as the war table allowed. The war tent struggled to amodate the crowd of gathered lords, heroes, and generals.

    Eighty square miles, you say? Rnd asked the scout.

    Yes, Your Majesty, the pegasus rider said, his voice dulled by exhaustion. His breastte still showed the cracks inflicted by a beastmans mace. The Blight did not expand eastward beyond the river, but most of the western riverside has fallen prey to its influence.

    <em>A whole forests worth of cursednd,</em> I thought. I sent a nce to Marika, who stared at her wine cup without a word. <em>This would have been Snowdrifts fate without her timely intervention.</em>

    I doubted she could appreciate that fact. Marika had fallen into a sour mood since the battle ended; seeing evidence of her ex-husbands survival in his golem minions probably reopened old wounds.

    The others barely looked any better. Soraseo showed bruises all over her graceful facethe first time Id <em>ever </em>seen her wounded in actionand Cortaner spent most of the meeting holding his broken left arm while his armors spikes burrowed into it.

    I can trade away your injuries, I informed him.

    They set the bones back in ce, the Inquisitor replied.

    My method is quicker and less painful.

    Cortaner answered with a shrug. Pain is the point.

    I didnt insist further. The mans obsession with harming himself as a form of penance unsettled me to my core. It just felt so impractical.

    Eighty square miles, Rnd whispered to himself. His assembled generals and bannermen had mostly fallen silent upon hearing the report. What of the Walbourg reinforcements? The beastmen?

    The beastmen retreated north towards the Winter Sea, the courier replied. As for the Walbourg reinforcements, our scouts noticed them south of the ins. They did not offer any aid during the battle.

    How would they? Duke Sigismund rejoiced. With the Regents army shattered, they can no longer threaten us.

    They are likely to return to Walbourg, I conceded. Our entire strategy revolved around striking the enemy army before it could link up with reinforcements. With the main force crushed and the capital about to be besieged, I doubted Walbourg would fight for a doomed cause. Their forces were likely to swiftly return home and fortify their border.

    No war is won until thest enemy surrenders, Soraseo noted wisely. Our foe still holds the capital.

    What good will it do without the possibility of relief? the Duke replied with a snort. My brothers army has been shattered and his allies have retreated. What can he hope for other than to waste our time? Whitethrones ramparts might hold us back for a while, but it will fall to a prolonged siege.

    Each day the Regent keeps the doors closed is one that keeps him alive, I pointed out, eying Rnd. He knows youre unlikely to spare him if you take the city.

    I wont, our Knight replied coldly. Now that I had switched back his and Soraseos eye colors, his once innocent blue gaze now looked cold and icy. I am <em>through </em>with traitors.

    Nor would it be a good idea, Your Majesty, Duke Sigismund agreed with a nod. My brother does not learn from his mistakes. His survival will only encourage further rebellions.

    I couldnt agree more. A man in league with demons and willing to sacrifice people to create soulbound golems did not deserve any mercy. Unlike Sebastian, I doubted the Regent could offer us any valuable information on the Knots activities either. He was a liability.

    I do not think a siege willst long, I said. Once the Regents supporters inside the city realize no one wille to break the encirclement, they will cast him down from his ill-gotten throne and deliver him to us like a gift. Perhaps with a pretty ribbon and all.

    Rnd drummed his fingers on the war table with a stern look in his eyes. My uncles followers will receive no mercy from me. They had their chance.

    I understand how Your Majesty feels, but I suggest we stick to punishing the insurrections leaders, I argued. If all our foes believe they have a choice between fighting for their lives or the nose, theyll keep fighting to the bitter end.

    Lord Robin speaks wisely, Duke Sigismund said, supporting my suggestion. We should offer favorable terms of surrender, so long as my treacherous brother and the queen-mother are delivered to us.

    Rnds jaw tightened, but thankfully his anger had cooled enough for him to listen. He nodded sharply and then examined a rough map of the region. The Blight stood out on it like a bleeding wound.

    A siege might take weeks, and the Blight still remains an issue. Rnd turned to his captains. We must quarantine it with trenches and palisades of sharpened spikes before monsters can spill out into the countryside.

    Your Majesty speaks true, a captainmented. Undead and possessed trees have already started harassing our outriders.

    Cant you witchcrafters do anything about the Blight? another general asked Marika, briefly drawing her out of her morose silence. If not destroy it, at least contain it?

    Marika shook her head. I can improve the barricade with seals to prevent the corrupted essence from spilling away, but my lordsnd will be stained for generations.

    <em>Unless Colmars method proves effective</em>. I kept that information for myself though. The only thing worse than gloom was a disappointed hope. Failure would shake peoples faith in us further.

    Which, considering what Daltia told me, might matter even more than I thought

    Besides, I had another n to deal with this particr Blight. I would need to discuss it with Rnd in private since it required his assistance though.

    Cursed beastmen, Duke Sigismund grunted, his reprobation shared by most of Rnds generals. Without their ambush, we would have won this battle without any difficulty.

    We should have exterminated them centuries ago, one of Rnds retainersmented. You cant reason with animals.

    Thement made my blood boil; all the more since the one beastkin I was friends with was perhaps the most selfless Id ever met. Marika clearly held her tongue, while Soraseos eyes narrowed dangerously.

    The Arcadian Freeholds did, my lord, I pointed out calmly. As did many cities in the Rivend Federation, the Stonnds, and even some of the Fire Inds

    Duke Sigismund sent me a strange look. What are you implying, Lord Robin?

    Last nights waterkin ambush indicates that the Demon Ancestors managed to recruit a few tribes to their cause.

    Of course the beastmen joined with the demons, Robin, Rnd replied dryly. We have been at war with them for centuries.

    But is there a reason for us to <em>stay </em>at war with them? I asked.

    I uttered these words with the utmost seriousness, yet most of my audience stared nkly at me as if I had said an incredible absurdity. Even Rnd squinted at me in disbelief.

    Whereas the catkin, ratkin, birdkin, and monarchs more or less managed to integrate into some societiesalbeit as second-ss citizensothers like the scalekin, waterkin, boarkin, and others never stopped waging war on human civilization. Modern states pushed these hostile groups to the fringes of the known world, like the distant north or the sea, but they always returned to threaten the borders. Archfrost spent its entire existence at war with northern tribes from beyond the icy mountains. Id spent my childhood hearing tales of beastmen raids and piges.

    My experience in the Rivend Federation, where beastmen were sometimes tolerated, had helped me grow out of this mindset but it was Colmars discovery of his kindreds origins that fully convinced me that Archfrost followed the wrong path. Those we considered foes were once men who had the misfortune of running afoul of a Demon Ancestor determined to enve them. Beneath the fur and skin, we all shared amon origin.

    I <em>knew </em>peaceful coexistence was possible. Difficult, but possible.

    Between Walbourg to the south, beastmen tribes to the north, and the rebel Regent to the west, well soon fight a war on all fronts, I argued. We need to negotiate peace with at least some of these parties, or else well push them into the Demon Ancestors arms. And yes, Your Majesty, that includes the beastmen.

    With all due respect, Lord Robin, you do not know the northern tribes, Duke Sigismund replied with great calm and a touch of condescension; the kind that experts liked to give the uninitiated. As Stonegardes custodian, Ive fought them half my life. They are hardly a step above animals when ites to bloodthirst and ferocity.

    Those we captured are intelligent enough to answer my questions, Cortanermented dryly. A sickening crack echoed under the war tent as his armors spikes finally managed to put his arm back into ce. Do not let your prejudices blind you to facts, Duke Sigismund.

    It is not their intelligence that I doubt, Lord Inquisitor, is it their aptitude for moral behavior. Duke Sigismund sighed. Weve tried to make peace before, Lord Robin. Two decades ago, I raised beastmen ruts in my household. I had my retainers teach them ournguage, culture, and even science in the hope of building understanding between our people. They fled at the first opportunity and turned this knowledge against us in future raids.

    A few rotten trees do not represent the forest, Soraseo said with wisdom.

    These trees were watered with grievances since birth, Lady Soraseo, Duke Sigismund argued. The northern tribes teach their young that we stole theirnds, that we are weak, that we deserve to <em>die</em>. Warlords gain a following among them by promising raids and retribution. They have no incentive to change their ways.

    Rnd cleared his throat and all gazes turned on him. I understand your concerns, Robin, but the beastmen are a long-term problem. For now

    You are wrong, Cortaner boldly interrupted the prince.

    While Rnds retainers red at the Inquisitor for his disrespect, the prince simply clenched his jaw and asked, How so?

    I am well-versed in beastmen dialects, so prisoner interrogations proceed apace, Cortaner stated, much to my surprise. While it helped in his work, few humans ever bothered to learn thesenguages. The tribe that attacked us answered to a certain Zharkov.

    Rnds tent exploded in murmurs at the name. Even Rnd squinted in worry.

    Zharkov? I repeated. Zharkov Iron Tusk?

    Cortaner met my gaze. You know him?

    Hes a boarkin warlord who led a failed incursion during the year of my birth. From what I heard, I was born the day his troops retreated, which my parents took as a sign of good luck. Hes been a security threat to Archfrost for decades.

    Zharkov has tried to federate beastmen tribes for decades now, Duke Sigismund added with a grim look. I was considering a preemptive strike against the beastmen before this conflict reared its ugly head.

    He is about to be a major concern, Cortaner stated sharply. He intends to march south in the Lord of Wraths name.

    A general snorted ruefully. An empty threat. The beastmen have never managed to breach the northern mountains since wepleted the Stonegarde fortress. They will find no river to sneak through, no hole to crawl into its ramparts of steel and stone.

    Duke Sigismund wove his fingers together under his chin. I left a sizable garrison when I left Stonegarde. Ten or ten thousand, no beastman army will pass. It would take a miracle for the fortress to fall.

    Soraseos hand clenched on her swords hilt. Or a Demon Ancestor.

    A tense silence fell onto the assembly. Generals and knights exchanged nces, none of them daring to speak up as if afraid to invoke a curse.

    None was more unsettled than me. Now that Daltia confirmed the Demon Ancestors possessed the power of their main sses and its vassals, I now had a healthy fear of what Belgoroth could achieve.

    Soraseos ss granted her an innate understanding of movement to the point she could sense iing projectiles and react faster than the wind; while the Knight mark empowered Rnd with superhuman strength and the ability to master any weapon he touched. Whenbined with the Cavaliers ability to master any mount, this painted the portrait of an unstoppable warrior.

    The Lord of Wrath may very well seed where armies of beastmen failed. He could probably breach Stonegarde on his lonesome.

    Rnd rose to his feet. Leave me, my lords, he ordered his retainers. I must confer with my fellow heroes.

    I eased myself into my seat as Duke Sigismund and the rest obeyed without arguing further. All of them could notice the barely suppressed anger in the kind princes voice and the absence of his once-trusted squire at his side.

    No one had dared toment on it. At least, not to their princes face. I suspected rumors were already spreading like wildfire.

    In fact, Rnd immediately questioned Cortaner on the subject. Have you interrogated Minister Leclerc? Does he know where his" The prince''s hands tightened into fists. "Where his <em>employer </em>is?"

    "He does not," Cortaner replied bluntly. "The man was no more than a decoy meant to distract us."

    "He tried to assassinate Therese during the battle though," I said. "Thankfully, the guards tasked with his surveince caught him before he could go very far."

    Speaking of Therese, I wondered how she was doing. She had taken it upon herself to oversee andfort the battle''s wounded. A kind move, and a sharp public rtionship ploy.

    "My interrogation confirmed our hypothesis that our foes sealed their memories in objects to avoid detection," Cortaner reported. Leclerc stored his own in his wedding ring. He only had to take it off to forget his true allegiances."

    "His wedding ring." Rnd''s expression soured even further. "Another lie on a pile of them.

    He no longer has the luxury of lying to <em>me</em>," Cortaner replied. The Inquisitor''s voice remained as stern as usual, but I detected a hint of relish in his tone. Since Leclerc had managed to fool his power once, he probably enjoyed turning the situation around. "I have extracted a list of Knot agents he promoted among your royal administration andpiled arrest warrants."

    Make those execution orders, and you will have my signature, Rnd dered with a baleful re.

    Cortaner held the princes gaze. We need them alive to denounce their own aplices and uproot the entirework."

    <em>You know something is wrong when Cortaner is the one arguing for mercy</em>, I thought. Sebastians fresh betrayal had hardened our Knight.

    Now is not the time for heads to roll, Rnd, I pointed out.

    A flicker of fury yed on Rnds face. You wanted to take Sebastian alive at all costs, and look where it led us.

    To your survival? I retorted frankly, holding my ground. I regret nothing. We did our best with minimal information and facing unforeseen consequences.

    You have no lessons to give, foolish Knight, Cortaner said harshly. You remained blind to your squires duplicity for too long and your kingdom nearly paid the price for it.

    Rnd recoiled as if he had been pped, his mouth tightening. Marika nced at Cortaner in disapproval.

    That was a bit harsh, she scolded him.

    His actionsst night nearly cost us the Knight ss. Cortaner crossed his arms. We are lucky that Robins quick thinking prevented this hard-won victory from turning into an unmitigated disaster.

    Rnd slouched in a chair with a gloomy look. He did not defend himself, so Soraseo stepped in to do so.

    Mistakes are easy to make and hard to atone for, she said, her sharp features softening. From her tone, she spoke from experience.

    That does not excuse them, Cortaner replied, his spiked armor reflecting the sunlight filtered through themand tents entrance. If you want absolution, go see the Priest.

    After sending a nce to Rnd, who appeared torn between anger and grief, I decided to change the subject away from recriminations.

    There is another detail I would like to share with you. Once I hadmanded my allies attention, I grabbed Dolganovs Devil Coin and flipped it in the air. "Would you believe me if I said I danced with the Devil under the moonlight?"

    Cortaner immediately tensed. The Devil of Greed?

    Well, we did not dance, I said. But we did talk.

    I recounted to them what happened in the frozen time, away from any observer. Id hesitated to share the details since Daltia clearly intended to sow disinformation between us, but I thought it best to remain truthful with my allies.

    My fellow heroes listened to my tale mostly in silence, though Cortaner asked pointed questions. I felt his power take hold of me as he did so. His magic not onlypelled me to answer him truthfully, but it also granted me enough rity to recount every detail.

    A golden time between two seconds? Marika rubbed her forehead with her fingers. Im sorry, Robin, but I have a hard time visualizing it and if what she said about our marks is true

    Dont tell me that you believe her? Rnd snorted scornfully. She is the worst demoness of all. All she says are lies and calumnies meant to divide us.

    Maybe, I admitted. I dont trust a wording out of Daltias mouth either, so we should put all her assertions to the test.

    Cortaner observed me sharply. What bothers me is how much she knew of you <em>personally</em>, Robin.

    She felt familiar somehow? I still struggled to put my finger on why. Not in the way we heroes recognize each other. I feel more like Ive met her before.

    You share a mark, Soraseo pointed out. It might let her gain an understanding of how you think.

    Maybe, I replied with a shrug. Its more likely she used her agents to gather information on me and then tailored her appearance to destabilize me. Im not excluding any possibility yet.

    Demons lie, Soraseo insisted. Why would she help you, Robin?

    Cortaner interrupted me before I could answer. What is the worst kind of merchant?

    That one that doesnt deliver on their promises, I replied with the utmost sincerity. Cortaner answered with silence. You disagree?

    The kind that lies? Soraseo suggested.

    Marika, a cksmith and exorcist extraordinaire, offered a better answer. War profiteers. Those who sell weapons to both sides.

    My thoughts exactly. Cortaner nodded sharply. I suspect the Devil of Greed does not care which side wins, so long as they fight.

    I nced at the Devil Coin. How many lives had this cursed item imed before it reached Dolganovs hands? The heartbeat of that <em>thing </em>Daltia fed her imed souls to echoed in my mind like a dire warning.

    She wants souls, I muttered. Shes harvesting them for something.

    It may be that all her schemes are in the service of a greater n, Cortaner suggested. The poor and the desperate sell their souls more easily than the rich and powerful.

    I didnt miss the implications, and neither did Rnd. We exchanged a brief look. The Knot of Greed might have helped the likes of Florence throw Archfrost into chaos not for any tangible political gain, but simply to push more fools into their patrons gilded embrace.

    What is she feeding souls to? Soraseo turned toward Marika, our resident expert on essence. Another demon? A Blight?

    Im at a loss here, Marika admitted. This is way beyond my expertise. Id need more details.

    We should consult an expert like the Mage, I suggested. He might offer more insight.

    Whatever the case, the Devils words change nothing, Cortaner dered. If you haveints or questions about our marks, you can take them to the Fatebinder when she visits Archfrost.

    Marika turned to the Inquisitor. Doesnt it bother you that our sses may note from the Goddess?

    No, Cortaner replied without any hesitation. The Four Artifacts are the Goddess tools and representatives. Whether or not they made our sses, they derive from Her divine will nheless. Our mission remains the same.

    I have agreemeI agree, Soraseo said while quickly correcting herself. We stand for the people of thisnd. The demons fight for themselves. The war continues.

    Rnd nodded slowly. Our priority for now is to retake the capital. Lord Cortaner is right. Anyone who has doubts can take them to Lady Alexios.

    And I would be the first in line.

    We split up afterward, with Cortaner going to continue with the interrogations while Soraseo and Marika would help with the Blight containment. I prepared to leave the tent after them when Rnd gave me a look. Stay, Robin.

    When you ask so nicely, I replied once the others had left. What is it?

    Rnd nced over the table, grabbed the first cup he found, and threw it at my face.

    He was fast and an excellent shot, but thankfully I saw iting from a mile away. I epically dodged the vicious projectile by sidestepping it. Droplets of wine flew across the tent in what felt like slowed time. The cup bounced off the ground, its target unharmed.

    Very mature of you, Rnd, I quipped. If you want to practice your aim, were better off ying darts.

    "The customary punishment for striking a prince is amputation." Rnd red at the hand Id punched him with. "I could have it cut off for what you did to me."

    It would hardlyst until sundown, I deadpanned. Ill buy a new one on the cheap before you could say ''cut''.

    My insolence did not amuse Rnd. You dont fear anything, do you?

    Youre wrong, I replied. I was very afraid of what you were about to turn intost night.

    This shut him up, but only for a short instant. "Is that why you stopped me?" Rnd stared at his mark. "So I would not stain it?"

    "Partly." A single Belgoroth was already one too many. "But mostly because I wanted to save your life."

    His scowl softened a little, though he did not thank me. His anger vanished and he slumped gloomily in his chair without a word. I recovered the cup he had thrown, grabbed another, and poured us both some wine. After a moments hesitation, Rnd grabbed one and sipped his drink.

    My mother, the queen, is in the capital, Rnd prompted. "She and my uncle Clovis have had an affair. You know that?"

    I heard the rumors. The queen and regent were notoriously in bed, in more ways than one.

    She will bear him a child in a few months. Rnd observed his sorrowful reflection in the wine. A bastard of royal blood that she hoped to rece me with.

    He wasnt yet eighteen years old, and yet he spoke with the defeatism of a broken warrior thrice his age. Im sorry to hear that.

    "That is why I left the capital in a hurry. I knew that if I stayed, my drinks and food would start to taste poisonous." Rnd looked away. "It is Sebastian who convinced me to make a move in Snowdrift. A bold move."

    The right move, I reassured him. Youll make a better king than your uncle.

    Thats what I told myself too. Rnd shook his head. I never wanted the throne. I love Archfrost, but I never wanted the throne. If you could see it, Robin. Its the most ufortable chair Ive ever sat on. I cant fathom why so many would die for it.

    I think you do, or you wouldnt be fighting one of your uncles for it.

    I have a duty to Archfrost, Rnd conceded. Every other candidate for the throne is worse than I am. If I dont take it, ruin awaits our country.

    You can always sell it to me if you dont want it anymore, I quipped. Ill give you a friendly price for it.

    Rnd chuckled, which I took as a good sign. However, unlike ire, he did not seriously consider my offer. He believed in his own destiny and duty to rule.

    I agree with you on the beastmen question, he said. I wanted to develop diplomatic rtionships with them once I ascended to the throne.

    I squinted. Wanted? Past?

    I am tired of being betrayed, Robin. Whether by friends or foreigners. Rnd sighed. I thought Sebastian would be the exception, but he only proved the rule.

    Its hard being lied to by those we trust. I should consider myself lucky that Mersie hadnt tried to kill me yet. The pain makes it harder to open up to those who deserve it.

    You were surrounded by snakes in Ermeline too, were you not? Rnd turned to me. How did you manage?

    With patience. I bided my time until I could gather all the evidence I required. Though Mersie made that point moot when she killed them all anyway. I met wonderful people who helped make my stay bearable. I do not regret anything.

    Even the betrayals, the lies, the disappointments?

    No. I sipped my wine. They made me who I am today. Ive made a pretty good life for myself. I have wealth, I have friends, and Im happy.

    Rnds brows furrowed. I want the same thing, Robin, but each time I reach for friendship, I take a knife to the back for my trouble. I shook his head. Im clearly not good at making friends.

    I scoffed. Im here, am I not?

    Rnd rxed a bit. I suppose I do owe you my life.

    May I offer a suggestion? I yed with my cup. You should befriend the princess youre supposed to marry instead of keeping her at bay. Therese will rte to your situation better than most, and she is trustworthy.

    I cant Rnd frowned. I wont love her, Robin.

    But you can respect her. Thats what she wants from you. No more no less. Id heard that from her own mouth. While I still believed they were better off marrying for love than for duty, Id decided to stop projecting on them. It remained their decision. I cant guarantee you wont be disappointed in the future when ites to other people, but you must persist. A true friend makes up for a hundred false ones.

    Rnd scoffed, but mulled over my advice nheless. The more I interacted with the young prince, the more I saw myself in him. I too had been constantly on edge in Ermeline, surrounded by liars or criminals. That kind of environment ate away at trust and morals alike.

    Yet while I lied like I breathed, Rnd was an earnest soul. He yearned for justice, for truth. I couldnt let the spark of kindness inside him be extinguished.

    Do you think I can live up to it? he asked me as he examined his mark once again. To the Knight ss?

    I sincerely do. And I suspected the Knots invested so much effort into sabotaging Rnd precisely <em>because </em>of his potential. Sebastian escaping is a loss, I wont deny it, but were in position to retake the capital and nip this civil war in the bud. A costly victory is still a victory, Rnd. The Knots left a mess, but were turning things around."

    Rnd nced at the Blight on the map. We paid too high a cost for <em>this </em>victory if you ask me. Belgoroths corruption has befouled thend.

    Maybe not for long. I set my cup aside and presented my n. If what Daltia told me about how perception influences our powers is correct

    A big <em>if</em>, Rndined.

    If she told me the truth, then if everyone believes you are Archfrosts king, you should technically own everything on your territory, I continued, ignoring his interruption. Its people, itsnd maybe even its woes.

    Rnds eyes widened in astonishment. I could sell away a Blight?

    If people can sell away the diseases affecting them, why cant a ruler trade away a curse affecting hisnd? My power worked in extremely specific and often mind-blowing ways. At least, thats the theory. I cant guarantee sess.

    Hence why you didnt bring this up during the meeting. Rnd scowled at me. Did you try to buy Snowdrifts Blight?

    Frankly, the idea didnt even cross my mind then, I confessed. The Blight is such a big and pervasive phenomenon, I thought I would be better off trying to buy the weather.

    You are not far off the mark, Rnd replied. You have seen two Blight for yourself. They are cmities. I dont think anyone can own one, no more than you can own an earthquake.

    Maybe not, I conceded. But you still own thend on which they are located. Ive sessfully transferred nutrients from one plot ofnd to another with the correct contract. Whos to say we cant at least influence the Blight in a simr way?

    Your n will only work if everyone in Archfrost recognizes me as a king with the Goddess-granted right to dispose of his territory as he sees fit, Rnd pointed out with skepticism. It wont work even after my coronation. So long as Walbourg remains in open rebellion, my rule will appear shaky.

    Herey the crux of the matter. Dont take this the wrong way, Rnd, I said, choosing my words carefully. But have you considered <em>negotiating </em>with Walbourg?

    Rnds hand curled on his cup so tightly it started to crack. Duchess Griselda and her supporters seceded under false pretenses and plunged our country into a war it still has yet to recover from. My father <em>died </em>trying to retake ournd, Robin.

    I dont ask you to forgive Griselda. Especially not now, not with Sebastians betrayal still fresh on his mind. However, consider the fact that a certain third-party instigated this entire conflict, or at least facilitated it.

    The Knots involvement is likely, Rnd conceded sternly. However, no matter who started this war, Walbourg still waged it. Must I remind you that they sent soldiers to support my uncle?

    And what fair-weather support it was, I countered. Youve heard the messenger. The Walbourg reinforcements arrivedte to the battle and avoided a fight.

    They will not die for a doomed cause, no, Rnd conceded. Instead they will hole up in their provinces while we weather Belgoroths storm.

    They have as much to lose as we do if the Lord of Wrath descends on the country with an army of beastmen. I hoped not to breach the next subject, but I saw no other way to help Rnd see reason. Dont you think the Cavaliers support of the rebels implies some of their concerns are legitimate?

    Shes a mercenary, Rnd replied, though with a weaker voice than earlier. His own Vassal ss rebellion ate at him. She fights for coins.

    The Cavalier mark wouldnt have chosen her if that was the case, and you know it, I argued. Besides, the new Druid is near Walbourg too. If Belgoroth escapes and leads an invasion from the north, then well need both of them to repel him.

    Rnd remained unconvinced. My uncle allied with demons and gave one of them leadership over his army. If Walbourg was willing to fight at their side

    I dont think Walbourg is aware of the Knots influence. I couldnt see any hero joining Walbourg to fight side-by-side with demons. Their own marks would likely have killed them on the spot for it. Youre well-ced to know that demons hide in in sight. Even my informants among our enemies hardly knew anything of the golems deployedst night, except that they were weapons used to kill the Druid.

    They still chose to deploy them, Rnd replied, unimpressed. Forgive me if I do not find the use of soulbound war machines marginally better than allying with fiends.

    He got me there, but I did not let it stop me. All Im saying is that theyre an unknown quantity and it is better to make them our allies than our foes, I argued. It wouldnt cost us anything to send messengers and begin talks.

    I could almost see the gears turning in Rnds head, the debate within his heart. A part of him resented the rebels for opposing histe father during the civil war and living to tell the tale; the other saw the blood on the wall and considered the good of Archfrost over his own.

    The anger and the duty.

    The former almost won outst night, but without Sebastians fresh betrayal on his mind thetter had regained its strength. It only needed a nudge to flourish.

    Ive told you before, Rnd. You dont have to shoulder that burden alone. I smiled at him. Im the Merchant. Fostering win-win deals is what I do.

    And truthfully, I would be more useful negotiating an agreement with Walbourg than on the frontline. Thest battle confirmed I had little hope of matching the likes of the Monk or the Knight inbat nor should I. My ss was meant to create and distribute wealth, not death.

    I must say I admire your confidence, Robin, Rnd said after some hesitation. But there is a difference between what is <em>ideal </em>and what is <em>possible</em>.

    Peace is possible, I insisted. I can feel it in my bones.

    I am not so certain, Rnd replied. As my uncle Sigismund said, weve tried to make peace with the beastmen, but their leaders gain power by opposing us, so they have no incentive to change their ways; no more than the families of those they killed. The situation with Walbourg is no different.

    I crossed my arms. If no one will move on from past events, we will never make progress.

    Rnd red at me. Would you forgive Florence for spreading the gue that killed your parents?

    My back tensed like a bowstring. These situations are notparable.

    They are, Rnd replied sternly. Half my barons have lost someone in the civil war. If I cannot grant them the justice they want, they will follow someone who will.

    I understood his position, though it annoyed me greatly. The country was at war and Rnd couldnt risk alienating his supporters; especially with the risk of the Lord of Wrath barging in at our door.

    However, his caution might cost us precious allies at best or earn more enemies at worst.

    I am not against apromise, Robin, Rnd insisted. However, I cannot tolerate Walbourgs independence. Any treaty involving this possibility wont do. Griselda will have to bend the knee one way or another.

    You are asking for her unconditional surrender, I said. She wont ept it.

    Most of my generals would call for her head on a spike for her rebellion. I am already showing greater mercy than most. The worst part was, Rnd was probably telling the truth. Compromises cut both ways, Robin.

    I simmered in my seat as I examined my options. Rnd demanded nothing less than Walbourgs reincorporation into the realm and its duchess to bend the knee again. Very restrictive conditions.

    However, he was willing to avoid a war and maybe discuss other conditions. If I could prove to Griselda that the Knots were behind the civil war, I might bring her to the negotiation table.

    The task ahead would be tough, but not impossible. I liked those odds.

    If I can hammer out apromise that you can present to your supporters as a victory, would you sign it? I asked him.

    If you think you can hammer out an agreement with the rebels that would please everyone, then be my guest. Rnd finished his wine and set his cup aside. If you are set on the task, I shall send you to Walbourg as my ambassador. This thankless task shall be punishment enough for punching me.

    I struggled not tough. Youre quite vindictive, my prince, you know that?

    Rnd cracked a smile of his own. I hold grudges.

    I kept forgetting that for all of his properness and regality, he was still a young man at heart. I could forgive him for acting childish now and then.

    Do not promise too much, my friend, Rnd warned me. I wont sign a treaty I cannot support.

    Dont worry, I said while rising to my feet and flipping Dolganovs Devil Coin. <em>My</em> deals are fair.

    I would not disappoint him. Rnd needed more victories and fewer headaches on his mind.

    Moreover, he still called me his friend. Unlike a certain squire, I would live up to his expectations.

    <em>You will fail to divide us, Daltia</em>, I thought as I exited Rnds tent with the cursed coin in my hand. <em>Well mend thend you and yourrades have divided.</em>

    I couldnt wait for Eris toe and pick up the cursed coin. We had much to discuss on the matter of Daltia, and I missed her presence. I know we werent steady, but she did make me happy. Besides, it would help me if she could deliver a message to ire in Snowdrift. I had the intuition her father would soon visit her one way or another.

    I had barely taken a few steps beyond the tent when I found Cortaner waiting for me.

    We need to talk, he said with a tone that broke no discussion.

    About what, the beastmen? I squinted at him. Are you done interrogating them?

    No. It is about the squire. Cortaner stared at my Devil Coin. There is a detail that bothers me.

    How did he manage to get a hold of the coin? I guessed. The same information escaped me. Ive no idea. Sebastian said that the Devil Coins find their way to their holders, but I dont see any legs to carry them.

    Someone slipped the coin to our target. As usual, Cortaner ignored my quip. However, Sebastian Leclerc remained under close observation since we left Snowdrift. I am certain he did not carry the coin before the battle started. Whoever gave it to him did so while escaping all detection.

    It could have been teleported to his location, I suggested. My power allows for such things with contracts and dyed signatures.

    I considered that possibility. Cortaner crossed his arms. However, the Devils familiarity with you makes me consider another hypothesis.

    Something in his tone bothered me. Which one?

    There is another person who could deliver the coin to our target undetected and disappear just as quickly. Cortaner looked into my eyes, his own peering through his helmet. A person who you are very close to.

    My fist curled around my coin. I immediately guessed who he was referring to. Thats absurd. Her mark wouldnt tolerate it.

    We already know the sses can be circumvented. Cortaner observed me warily. In any case, I am merely informing you of my observations. It is only a possibility so far. Keep it in mind.

    I will. Though I considered it more likely that Daltia used a variant of my contract power to transport coins around. But its quite the paranoid leap.

    Now that my power has proved fallible, I must reevaluate previous testimonies and assumptions. Cortaner turned his back on me. And so should you.

    The more I interacted with that man, the more he got on my nerves. Especially when he had a point.

    Question all my assumptions? Yes, if the Knots worked their way around Cortaners truth-telling power, they could have done the same with mine. What did Daltia say when I questioned her on the subject again?

    <em>Forgive me if I do not expect honesty from you,</em> I remembered saying.<em> Unless you would sell me your ability to lie?</em>

    <em>I have already done that.</em>

    Did she mean that she had sold her ability to lie in general, or to me personally? If she meant thetter, then this narrowed down the pool of suspects quite a bit.

    I raised the Devil Coin under the sunlight and examined it closely. Its wicked, skeletal grin reminded me so much of Daltia herself and a certain nun who enjoyed collecting them.

    Eris always showed up to recover the Devil Coins.

    I knew recovering the coins was her job, but now that I thought about it her timing was almost supernatural. Soraseo mentioned encountering Eris before the two of us met. I remembered her telling me how she had killed a demon and the Wanderer arrived soon after to pick up his treasure.

    <em>Eris stayed with me in Ermeline until we slew Sforza</em>, I thought. <em>She appeared right after we slew Fenrivos, and warned us right as Florence and Chastelunched their assault on Snowdrift.</em>

    It didnt bother me earlier, but now now something felt amiss. How did she manage to arrive just in the nick of time? She teleported to my location right after my soul trade too. I would suspect the Fatebinder to receive an rm, but the Wanderer? How could Eris possibly know I was about to corrupt my ss by ident and arrive so quickly?

    Our date too. The former Druid lost his life less than two hours after we split up. It could mean nothing or everything.

    Im bing paranoid, I muttered to myself as I studied the Devil Coin. But someone <em>is </em>out to get us too.

    The coins ghoulish eyes red with a red hue, taunting me.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven: Interlude: The Inquisitor (1 out of 2)

    Chapter Twenty-Seven: Interlude: The Inquisitor (1 out of 2)

    <strong>Content Warning</strong>

    <em>This is the first part of a two-part Interlude on Cortaner, the Inquisitor, as chosen by my patrons in the same vein as the Marika and Colmar episodes earlier (I had to split it in two due to its length). As befitting the character, this two-chapters war tale was written in the vein of works like </em>Heart of Darkness<em> or </em>Blood Meridian<em><strong>; </strong>it is, <strong>by far</strong>, the most brutal part of all of </em>Commerce Emperor<em>. Expect some mature stuff and depictions of extreme violence. </em>

    <em>I believe most of you won''t mind, but yeah, fair warning for sensible souls. </em>

    <em>-Ten years ago, penal colony of Worlds Edge, Fire Inds.</em>

    The cell smelled of sweat and blood. The former was his, thetter his cellmates.

    It was a pain to focus inside a seventy square feet block of steel and concrete when you shared it with a corpse. The runestone handcuffs didnt help either. He felt them eat away at his essence the same way mosquitos sucked his blood. Moving alone had be a chore, so he spent most of his time trying to meditate. So far he had failed to focus properly. He hadnt managed to clear his mind since he left Seukaia. He missed those moments of silence and peace, where his thoughts no longer tormented him. Drunkenness-induced oblivion didnt quite achieve the same effect.

    Meditating had made him happy once.

    It wasnt like he could do anything else other than try. While his hands remained strong, they couldnt bend steel bars without witchcrafting. He often looked up at the small barred window letting a glimmer of sunlight in, but it mostly worsened his mood. He didnt need reminders that he would likely die in this Goddess-forsaken dump. Weeks, months, years it didnt matter. Three out of four men died in Worlds Edge each year, and he would be here for life. If the grueling runestone mining work wouldnt put him in the dirt, the tropical diseases would.

    What he would do to turn back the wheel of time

    He heard stepsing from the nearby corridor. As far as he knew, he was the only prisoner on this floorat least ever since he bashed his cellmates skull against a wall. Had the wardens finallye to bury the remains two days toote?

    Cortaner, he heard someone call his name. A wardens voice. Wake up, fucker. Youve got a visitor.

    Cortaner rose from his bed, stepped over his cellmates remains, and lumbered towards the steel bars standing between him and his freedom.

    Three men watched him, the light of their torches dimly repelling the jails thick darkness. Cortaner recognized the warden in charge of his floor, but the other two were cut from a different cloth altogether. From their padded steel breasttes and crested helmets, they belonged to the Iremian army. Metal masks covered their faces, and the tallest of the two carried a khopesh at his belt.

    Cortaner remembered that an Iremian soldiers mask showcased their ranks. Silver and bronze. A captain and his adjutant. Strange

    Are you here for him? Cortaner asked, pointing at his dead cellmate.

    The warden hit the cells bars with a bludgeon. Shut up, scum! he snarled. Youll speak when spoken to!

    Cortaner would have strangled the rabid dog without his handcuffs getting in the way. The small fry wouldnt look so brave with his bludgeon stuffed up his arse.

    The captain nced at the corpse with cold blue eyes peering through his mask. Much to Cortaners confusion, he showed none of the disdain he had grown to expect from the prison staff. In fact, he almost looked <em>pleased</em>.

    Why did you kill that man? the captain asked with a thick, southern Iremian ent.

    He tried to stick his loins where he shouldnt have. Cortaner crushed them before he did the same to his skull. Was he important?

    The soldier scoffed. I doubt it.

    Then what does an Iremian army captain want with me? Cortaner asked, ignoring the warden threateningly raising his bludgeon at him for speaking out of turn.

    I am surprised you can identify my rank on sight, the soldiermented while sharply studying Cortaner. His gaze lingered on the runestone handcuffs. So you are a witchcrafter. Im surprised.

    Being a bald, swarthy man as tall as he was strong, Cortaner knew he didnt look like a stereotypical witchcrafter, let alone one that fought with their body rather than weapons. A lifetime of fighting had marked his skin with plenty of scars, and each of them carried their own story.

    Ive heard you killed five men on your lonesome during a bar brawl, bare-handed, and with fire coursing through your fingers, the soldier said. The city watch says they only brought you down because you were inebriated.

    Thats true, Cortner replied sharply. The booze had always been his weakness, even back when he still studied with the Firehand Sect. He had kept the bottle demon in check during that time, but his exile changed that. Youre here to execute me or what?

    The man ignored his question. From what I gathered, you arrived in the Fire Inds on a shiping in from Seukaia. I assume you received yourbat training there?

    Cortaners hands curled into fists. Yes.

    Why did youe to the Fire Inds?

    For work. Cortaner shrugged. All I know is how to fight. Ive heard Irem was looking for mercenaries in the area.

    We are. The soldier nodded to himself, as if Cortaner had passed some sort of hidden test. Im Captain Kheti of the Iremian Expedition Force. The man next to me is my assistant, Sergeant Seto. Ill go straight to the point: do you want to die here?

    Cortaner nced at his dead cellmate, then back at the soldier. No.

    I had the feeling youd say that. The captain crossed his arms. Since werecking manpower, Ive been allowed to empty our prisons for recruits. Heres the deal: you sign on for six months with me, you do what I say, and when that times up, youre free to go.

    Six months? Cortaner squinted in suspicion. He had learned to be wary of deals that sounded too good to be true, because they always were. Whats the catch?

    They will be <em>tough </em>months, the captain replied. The brownies have been conducting raids on the good people of Irem for years. One tribe of degenerates in particr needs to be taught some manners.

    Youll be paid based on your results, his sergeant added. One silver coin per enemy scalp.

    A silver coin for a life was a hefty sum, especially so far south.

    Must be tough bastards youre after, Cortanermented.

    These savages are a slippery lot and know the jungle well, Captain Kheti conceded. Are you scared?

    No. Cortaner had yet to meet someone he couldnt kill. Will you remove my shackles if I say yes?

    Yes.

    And my previous crimes?

    So long as you stick to killing brownies from now on, the Magocracy will overlook your past indiscretions. Captain Kheti looked out the window. So? Are you ready to seize the day?

    Was this even a choice? Cortaner loved to be paid for what he did best. When do I start?

    Captain Kheti kept his promise. Within a days turn, Cortaner left the prison through the front door, his shackles gone, and his criminal record expunged from the Iremian bureaucracy.

    He wasnt a free man yet though. The Iremians had him sign a contract in blood. Their witchcrafters could easily track him down if he ever tried to flee. The thought still crossed his mind when the captain had him board a ship away from Worlds Edge with a dozen other volunteers, but why bother? The contract was a good one.

    From what he could tell, Captain Kheti had toured other prisons beforeing to Worlds Edge. Their penalpanywhich the men had taken to call the Kheti Brigadeincluded thirty cutthroats, murderers, mercenaries, and a handful of professional soldiers eager to im the reward. Most of them were the usual rowdy bunch of brutes Cortaner had grown familiar with over his years of piracy, but he noticed a few anomalies among the circus. The troops medic was a thin middle-aged man with a short beard, bespectacled, and a guarded attitude that befitted a school teacher more than a mercenary. A handsome, slender young singer yed the fiddle on the deck with an insolent look Cortaner already despised.

    Every circus also had its freaks and clowns. One of the men stood out from the rest from his choice of clothing. Tight ck rags covered every inch of his body except for the head, which he instead hid under a ck capirote hood; small holes let two brown eyes peer through it. He wore gloves despite the atrocious heat and he kept to himself. He must have been a burn victim or something to dress like that.

    Alright boys, listen up! Captain Kheti addressed his recruits after they gathered on the deck, his voice booming like thunder. Our targets are the Kaliyara, awless tribe from Nguruh! Theyve been raiding the good citizens of Irem in the dead of night, killing innocent men, raping women of virtue, and kidnapping children to sell off as ves! Our job will be to wipe them out!

    With what, my cock? a rowdy prisoner boldly asked, causing a few others tough it off. I aint got any other sword!

    Well distribute weapons to you, but youll take care of your equipments upkeep, Sergeant Seto exined calmly. Any other equipment must be purchased out of your own pocket. Youll be paid a silver coin per Kaliyaran scalp and may keep any loot you find.

    Dont get any ideas, Captain Kheti warned. In this army, it takes more courage to back down than advance forward. A swift death awaits those who desert. Until your contract expires, your ass is <em>mine</em>.

    Fiddler wouldnt mind that! someone in the crowd said, the crude joke echoed by a chorus ofughter. The singer red at the responsible with a murderous look.

    Cortaner paid it no mind, nor did move an inch as Sergeant Seto brought two barrels full of swords, small spears, axes, and other weapons to the deck. He did take note of who chose what, however, in case he had to fight any of them. Most seized the usual spears and swords, though the medic took a crossbow and the hooded man a set of throwing knives. All weapons had been reinforced with steel essence and their material enhanced to the height of quality. Irem might have the smallest army of all major nations, but it also had the most witchcrafters to spare on improving equipment.

    Captain Kheti quickly noticed Cortaners refusal to bear weapons. You will go into battle unarmed?

    I <em>am </em>armed. Cortaner raised his fists with pride. Without runestones handcuffs to bind them, they felt strong again. All I need is oil to set them aze.

    Oh. Captain Kheti sounded halfway impressed. Youve undergone the Second Awakening?

    Cortaner shrugged. Of course a captain from a country ruled by sorcerers would know of these things. Im halfway there.

    Impressive. In that case, Ill pair you up with Seto. You wont run out of fire with him around, and he would benefit from a teammate covering him in melee. Captain Kheti nced at the azure sea. I have the feeling you will do very well among us.

    <em>I have the feeling you will do very well, </em>Master So Xians voice echoed in Cortaners mind. <em>If you do not waste your potential on the wrong cause.</em>

    Cortaner shook his head in frustration. His old mentors words sounded so bitter now. Whatever.

    Their destination came into sight of the ship a few hourster. While Worlds Edge was the smallest and most remote of the Fire Indshence its namenone rivaled Ngurah in size and importance. Its pleasure port gleamed like a golden nugget amidst a diadem of emerald forests. Palm trees swayed under the rising sun and over beaches of simmering sands. The warm wind carried the smell of precious spice and roasted meat. Cortaner would have found the ce beautiful were it not for the walls splitting the city in two.

    Whereas galleons and swift sloops docked in the bays central port, with its well-maintained warehouses and fancy inns, poorer fishermen had to retreat back to dirty shacks and crumbling piers. The citys mansions, lush gardens, and central, unfinished pyramid loomed over the guarded fortifications separating the inner district from surrounding shantytowns.

    <em>Tall walls</em>, Cortaner mused as their ship gently slid along the sapphire sea and approached an essence-reinforced pier. <em>But nowhere near as wide as the gulf of wealth.</em>

    Cortaner had tried to jump over it long ago, when he ran away from his dirt-poor home to try his luck in the big city. He remembered his first day of honest work. Hed been paid a copper for cleaning shoes and got it stolen by other urchins before the night was done. It was only when he started breaking legs that he managed to keep what he earned. To survive, you couldnt show weakness. <em>Ever</em>.

    Cortaner banished these thoughts from his mind. A small group awaited their ship on the dock. An elderly man in Arcane Abbey clerical clothes, men and women whose olive skin marked them as Iremian, and a few people whose darker, deep-brown tone marked them as Fire Ind natives. Thetter didnt wear the rags Cortaner hade to associate with the countrys underss. Quite the contrary, their linen robes, draped chemises, and silky cloaks marked them as quite well-off. Half a dozen armored members of the city watch escorted them; Cortaner recognized a few of those responsible for his arrest among them. He was tempted to pay them back with blood and death, but he loathed the prison more than he desired revenge.

    Captain Khetis eyes squinted in displeasure upon noticing the priest, though his gaze only turned to disgust catching the natives. These fools again, he mumbled with a hint of disdain. How irritating.

    Who are these people? Cortaner asked without really paying attention.

    The Arcane Abbey and the Free Fire Assembly, Sergeant Seto said. His tonecked his superiors venom. Theyve been protesting against the Iremian upation for decades.

    The Iremian <em>Protectorate</em>, Captain Kheti insisted sharply. The inders called us for help when the Shinkoku invaded them, Sergeant. Were here to protect them.

    From whom? Cortaner scoffed, unimpressed. The Shinkokan left half a century ago.

    Captain Khetis cold re carried more ice than an Archfrostian winter. From <em>themselves</em>.

    <em>Then why did the wall keep the suburbs out? </em>Cortaner didnt care enough to say it out loud, however. A good mercenary never argued with their employer. <em>Let him believe what he wants, so long as I get paid.</em>

    Cortaner knew his history well. When the Shinkokan Empire arose in the east a hundred and fifty years ago, they had promptly annexed the Fire Inds and used them as a springboard to invasions against Irem and the Everbright Empire. The resulting decades of conflict led to the creation of the Erebian League between Pangeals nations. They eventually repelled the Shinkoku and the Fire Inds became a protectorate of Irem.

    Cortaner had heard the inders were pretty happy about the arrangements at first until their protectors overstayed their wee.

    The inders could only me themselves. If they wanted things to change, they only had to tear down the walls. Nobody would <em>give </em>them their wealth. Those who couldnt keep what they owned never deserved it in the first ce.

    The Shinkoku will return one day, Captain Kheti insisted, more for himself than Cortaners sake. Until then, we will keep watch.

    After the ship docked, Captain Kheti and Sergeant Seto ordered their brigade to stay put on the deck while they went on to confront the delegation. Cortaner couldnt hear their discussion, but he noticed his employer putting a hand on his kopeshs hilt midway through. A few minutester, Captain Kheti said something to the city watch guards and thetter promptly escorted the delegation away. One of the natives loudly protested and took a bludgeoned hit to his face for his trouble, before being dragged away screaming and spitting. The rest got the message and dispersed more or less peacefully.

    <em>Cowards</em>, Cortaner thought. In this cruel world, people only listened to pretty words when they were backed by resolve and cold hard steel.

    Well leave for the jungle immediately, Captain Kheti ordered upon returning to the ship. Im sure these enemy sympathizers will send word of our arrival to every hostile within reach. His words were met with a chorus of groans, which he silenced with a mere re. You will have your fun when we get back.

    One hourter, the troop left the city on foot through its front gates. Two men tried to slip away before they even departed, but Captain Kheti had them beheaded on the spot for their trouble. Their heads were impaled on spikes atop the city walls, and any talk of desertion among the men died swiftly with them.

    The Iremian armys quartermasters distributed bags of supplies to the Brigade alongside a slew of padded armor, boiled leather mail, and other forms of protection. Cortaner had to admire the Magocracys logistics, though his own chainmail and segmented helmet only worsened the searing heat. The designs were outdated too. They probably received old stocks. At least theyd provided a waterskin full of ck oil for Cortaner to grease his hands with.

    While his superior stuck to a traditional khopesh and shield, Sergeant Seto carried the strangest of weapons: a closed metal reservoir he carried on his back, and attached to some kind of metal rod by a small rubber pipe. Cortaner had never seen anything like this, though he identified the presence of fire runestones at the rods tip.

    Captain Kheti swiftly split thepany into five units. Cortaner found himself under Setos direct orders alongside the fiddler, the doctor, and the hooded man; the mercenary assumed his employer mixed experienced soldiers with unreliable recruits to ensure the former would look over thetter. Captain Khetis team walked at the front of the column while Cortaners group closed the march with orders to intercept any would-be deserter.

    They soon left the citys cobbled streets behind for the green, untamed expanse beyond its suburbs. A dense, foreboding canopy of exotic trees stretched as far as the eye could see. By the time they found a walkable trail through the dense foliage, the sunlight struggled to get past the thick branches and leaves.

    <em>Too many sounds. </em>While Captain Kheti appeared to know his way forward through the forest, Cortaner remained on edge. The humid air and heat left him sweating, while the chorus of bird cries and the buzzing noise of whatever insects lurked in the forest prevented him from hearing his own steps.<em> I hate it.</em>

    Years of back-alley fighting had given Cortaner a sharp instinct for ambushes. Noticing small details often made the difference between life and death, but there were too many sounds to catch anything in particr. He couldnt see much through the foliage either. Vines thicker than a mans arms and ancient with colossal roots obstructed most of thendscape. The men ahead had to cut their way with swords. Only the hooded freak appeared unbothered by the terrain. He alone hadnt taken any armor with him, stealthily stepping over branches without making a sound.

    Do not touch the vines, Sergeant Seto warned their group. Some might be vinesnakes in disguise. Theyll flee rather than confront a group like ours, but a bite in the ankle will cost you a leg. Do not approach bodies of water either, especially the bigger ones. Young behemoths often im them as territory.

    What the fuck are we looking for? Cortaner asked, frustration surging in his flesh and bones. This jungle made him feel vulnerable, and he <em><strong>hated </strong></em>that. Trees?

    Informants gave us the location of a hidden Kaliyara outpost. Captain Kheti wants to check the intel. Sergeant Seto gripped his metal rod. Might be a bust. Well see.

    Well, at least well do some sightseeing, the Fiddler said. Cortaner didnt bother to learn the mans name nor did he intend to. Mayhaps I should y a merry tune to cheer the men up?

    Shut the fuck up, Cortaner warned him, his fists clenching. He would not die from a poisoned arrow because of a foolish singer giving away their position. This ce is dangerous.

    Calm down, calm down, I was kidding. The Fiddler let out a heavy sigh. You people have no sense of humor

    Cortaner ignored him and continued to focus on his surroundings. He attuned himself to the ambient essence. The forest turned into a simmering kaleidoscope of vivid colors to his eyes. Every inch of wood oozed life. It reminded him of the Seukaian mountains. The temple had been eerily silent, but its stones <em>breathed </em>for those who could listen.

    Cortaner had been happy there, for perhaps the first time in his aimless life. Studying essence-based martial arts gave him structure and purpose. Hed even considered settling down there. If only that fool Yun Jun hadnt provoked him if Cortaner could kill him again, he would.

    <em>He was weak</em>, Cortaner told himself. <em>A true Firehand disciple would have survived that blow.</em>

    But Master So Xian didnt see it that way and had him kicked out of the sect for ying a fellow student. Cortaner had found himself aimless again ever since, hopping from one job and country to another.

    So the Fiddler said. For some reason, he seemed intent on making small talk. What did they get you in for, Baldy?

    Murder, Cortaner replied, his blood boiling. He was steadily losing patience. And Ill add you to the list if you open your mouth again.

    The fool didnt listen. My, how original! Youre a member of the majority, my frie

    Cortaners hand lunged at the Fiddler and grabbed him by the throat.

    The man gasped as Cortaner mmed him against the nearest tree. The trunk shook under the strain of the impact, startling the rest of the group.

    The idiot was light. Light enough that Cortaner could lift him up with one hand while crushing his windpipe. A smarterd would have reached for his sword, but the Fiddler instinctively grabbed Cortaners fingers with his own.

    I warned you! Cortaner snarled as he mmed the Fiddler against the tree once more. I told you to<em> shut up!</em>

    The singers skin was already turning purple, but Cortaner wouldnt wait that long. He raised his free hand and prepared to shatter the mans soft skull with a well-ced punch; the way he had killed that idiot Yun Jun.

    Sergeant Setos voice cut through the murderous rage. Cortaner!

    Cortaner turned to the rest of his group. The Doc and Sergeant Seto were both aiming their weapons in his direction; the former quivering, thetter firmly. The hooded mute observed them without a sound, his twitchy hands ying with his knives.

    Drop him! Sergeant Seto ordered firmly. Drop him <em>now</em>!

    Cortaner grit his teeth and struggled with the urge to kill the Fiddler nheless. Or what?

    Or I will kill you right there, the sergeant replied without a hint of fear. Now drop him.

    Cortaner was tempted to ignore the warning nheless, but the interruption gave him enough time for his blood to cool down. He turned his attention back to the Fiddler, who stared at him with abject dread.

    After a moments consideration, Cortaner decided killing this fool wasnt worth bringing the might of Irem upon himself. He threw the Fiddler at the ground and released his grip on him as the singer desperately gasped for air.

    Never do that again, Sergeant Seto warned Cortaner before ncing at the Fiddler. And you shut up too before I execute you myself.

    The Fiddler took the hint this time, and the rest of the march happened in nearplete silence. Sergeant Seto didnt lower his weapon though, and the others gave Cortaner a wide berth afterward.

    They stopped once in a small clearing to eat and drink, but little noteworthy happened until sundown. The column abruptly stopped, and a messenger traveled down to ry orders to Sergeant Setos group.

    Were almost there, the officer said after the messenger returned to the columns front. Well move to encircle the outpost so they cant escape into the jungle. Encroaching darkness should cover our approach.

    A wise choice. Cortaner eagerly opened his waterskin and coated his hands with oil. After so many tense hours of walking blind in this green hell, he more than weed a straight fight. Perhaps there would be a worthy opponent among the Kaliyaran. It had been too long since Cortaner could truly put his skills to the test, especially when sober.

    Cortaner, you and I go first, the sergeant ordered. Silence, you cover us. The rest stays at the back. No assault until I say so, understood?

    <em>Silence?</em> Cortaner wondered before ncing at the hooded man among them.<em> Eh. They call him that because hes mute? Thats almost funny.</em>

    The group waded their way through the greenery, losing sight of the others and focusing on advancing forward. It didnt take them long to find the outpost nested within a secluded de if Cortaner could call <em>that </em>an outpost.

    <em>Whats this? </em>Cortaner wondered as he peered through the foliage. A gathering of wooden houses built atop sturdy stilts sprawled before them, their roofs woven with reeds and ovepping leaves longer than horses. He counted a dozen abodes, maybe two, with no defensive walls nor watchtower. <em>Its undefended.</em>

    The outpost was far from uninhabited. Smoke rose from its center, joined by the smell of roasted meat and the beat of mighty drums. Cortaner noticed two brown-skinned women filling ceramic pots with fruits under the shadow of a house, their intricate tattoos partly covered by soft fabrics adorned with feathers. A man with a spear sat on a stone near their position and spoke with two children in a tongue Cortaner did not recognize.

    Cortaner exchanged a nce with Sergeant Seto as the group remained unseen. Are these people Kaliyarans?

    No, they are not, Sergeant Seto said quickly. We would see more warriors and vigils otherwise. Our intel was wrong.

    They clearly belong to another tribe, the Doctor whispered at the back. He appeared especially fascinated by the houses. Should we approach them? I recognize their dialect. I could establish contact with them, maybe extract some intelligence on the Kaliyara.

    The sergeant pondered the proposal and then shook his head. Too risky. They might inform the other tribes in the area instead and expose us.

    The Fiddler stroked his throat, which still bore red marks shaped like Cortaners fingers. I say they are Kaliyaran, sergeant, he rasped with a weak, broken voice. All of them.

    They are not, the Doctor insisted. Their tattoos identify them as an offshoot of

    Doc, Doc, dont you see? Nobody outside your ssroom can tell the difference. The Fiddler smirked maliciously. Brown is brown.

    Sergeant Seto red at the Fiddler with genuine outrage. What are you saying?

    The Fiddler shrugged. How much are you paid, sergeant?

    The soldiers hands tightened on his weapon.

    Twenty silver a month? Twenty-five? I say its nowhere near enough for risking your life on foreign shores. The Fiddler drew his sword. Im sure the captain wont mind if he gets his share.

    Sergeant Seto remained silent as a tomb, his eyes darting from the Fiddlers weapon to the native vige.

    <em>Hes considering it, </em>Cortaner thought. This turn of events pleased him. <em>Its a good n, if the captain goes along with it.</em>

    Cortaner didnt particrly mind raiding the ce. Hed been a pirate before after all. He would follow his contract, but he didnt mind seizing an extra bit of cash now and then. Men were meat.

    Only the Doc protested. They have <em>children </em>among them.

    So what? Cortaner replied coldly. He counted two kids, both girls with white hair and slightly lighter skin than the other natives. These two looked no older than ten. If theyre smart, theyll keep their heads down and stay out of our way.

    Cortaner nced at the rest of the team. Sergeant Seto still hadnt reached a decision, the Doc gulped at the back, the Fiddler hardly held himself back from jumping into the fray and the Silence was nowhere to be seen.

    <em>Where has that mute creep gone? </em>Cortaner looked around and saw nothing. He found it eerie. Nobody ever managed to sneak up on him before.<em> I didnt hear a sound.</em>

    He turned his attention back to the vige and noticed someone exit one of the houses. A woman.

    An <em>Iremian </em>woman.

    If her smooth olive skin and facial features wouldnt confirm her origins, her expensive linen clothing did. She climbed down the house thanks to adder andnded on the ground, her sandals smoothly stepping on the grass.

    Must be a hostage, Sergeant Seto muttered. This new information seemed to embolden him. Change of ns. Well rescue her.

    Saving a damsel in distress and getting paid for it? The Fiddler chuckled, though it swiftly turned into a cough. What more can a man want?

    Cortaner rubbed his hands in preparation for the fight until the children rushed to the hostage, smiling andughing. The woman giggled and petted them both on the hair, the same way Cortaners mother did back when he was a wee child.

    He couldnt tell why, but the sight made him feel morose.

    Wait, the Doc warned them at the back. She doesnt look like a hostage to m

    A throwing knife flew past Cortaner and nailed the woman in the forehead.

    The de coursed across the air with such speed and strength that he hardly noticed it until the impact. The projectile whistled like an instrument as it cut through bones between the womans eyes. She stood in ce, her body frozen in ce, her eyes wide and hollow. She didnt realize she was already dead. Time seemed toe to a halt as the children and the warrior on the stone looked at the knife, their minds struggling to process what happened.

    The Silence emerged from the foliage without a sound and threw another knife.

    Cortaner thought he would target the warrior; that was what he would have done in the Silences ce, take out the bigger threat first. Instead, the knife ended its flight in one of the children throats. Her head tilted to the left like an owl, a fountain of blood erupting from her wound. Cortaner only had time to see the terror and shock in her eyes before she copsed on the ground.

    Finally realizing the danger, the other native women screamed, screamed, and <em>screamed</em>, their high-pitched screeches drowning out even the forests chorus. The warrior roared in fury as he grabbed his spear.

    Cortaners training kicked in and he emerged from the foliage, his oil-soaked hands igniting. The Doctor hastily fired a crossbow behind him; whatever target he had in mind, he missed. The Fiddler and a startled Sergeant Seto charged after him.

    Attack! thetter shouted way toote. Attack!

    Before Cortaner could think of anything, his hands caught fire.

    He had rehearsed this technique countless times, guiding the fiery essence of the mes so they would swirl around his fingers without consuming his skin. Anger, iron, those were easy essences to manipte. Men understood emotions better than anything, and solid matter could be grasped. But fire, light, sound, the cold? These primal energies and elemental forces of reality derived from the very Artifacts that had shaped the world on the Goddess behalf. To manipte them, one needed to attune their very spirit to one of the four.

    That was the Second Awakening.

    Only those who had undergone this training could manipte an Artifacts evasive elemental essence and store it into runestones, which allowed any witchcrafter to then redirect it. But to attune oneself with one of the Four meant to reject the others. Those who dedicated themselves to the Firewand could manipte mes and heat, but the Windswords lightning or the Seacups cold would be forever denied to them. Only the Mage could manipte <em>all </em>forms of essence without restriction or the use of runestones.

    Cortaner had been working on his Second Awakening before the Firehand Sect exiled him, selecting the Firewand as his patron. Raging mes suited him well.

    The native warrior threw his spear at him. Cortaner deflected the weapon with a wave of his hand, the sharpened stone tip shattering upon impact. He closed the gap within seconds and struck his foe in the chest. His zing hand entered the chest and exited through the back, smashing bones and organs alike.

    Cortaner struck the killing blow without hesitation. He was nothing but another nameless b of meat in an endless pile of them. He removed his hand from the corpse and let it fall with a loud thump, his mind obscured by the call of battle.

    Cortaner looked around as chaos overwhelmed the vige. Thest of the children screamed and cried in fear near her mothers corpse. Screeches and the noise of shing weapons echoed in the distance; the rest of the Kheti Brigade had sprung into action and started assaulting the vige from all directions.

    Sergeant Seto rubbed his metal rod, and the mysterious weapon finally activated. A stream of green mes erupted from its tip in a surge of light and destruction. He turned his torrent of mes upon the nearest house. Reeds and woods went up in mes, smoke rising to the sky as thest rays of sunlight vanished behind the horizon.

    Calm down! the Fiddler shouted at the sergeant. Though he had drawn his weapon, he stayed at the back with the quivering Doctor. We cant collect the money if you burn them to a crisp!

    Greed had managed to cure his strained voice.

    Meanwhile, the Silence stalked the camp like death itself. He grabbed a knife off his belt and immediately threw it at one of the women trying to run away. The projectile struck her in the back of the head with lethal precision. By the time she fell, the Silence had already moved on to his next victim.

    Cortaner prepared to walk after him to earn his keep when he noticed the crying girl.

    She hadnt fled yet for some obscure reason. Instead, she red at <em>him </em>with red eyes full of tears, one of the Silences bloody knives in her shaking hands. She had removed it from her fellow childs throat and now pointed it at Cortaner.

    He recognized her re. He had seen it in his own reflections many times in his childhood. That seething, impotent hatred mixed with fear It filled Cortaner with loathing and disgust.

    Strike me, if you dare, he told the girl in Iremian.

    She seemed to understand him, her hands trembling with such dread that the bloody knife slipped out of her fingers. When she wouldnt pick it up again, Cortaner threateningly raised his ming fist. The girls bravery turned to cowardice and she fled.

    Weakling, Cortaner rasped as she fled into the night and out of his sight. He didnt bother giving pursuit.

    He turned to look for worthy foes, when he noticed the Silence looking at him.

    His brown eyes, so brown and unfeeling, chilled Cortaner to the bone. They were devoid of anger, malice, or whatever emotions he would have expected to see in a soldier. In fact, Cortaner saw nothing.

    Nothing at all.

    <em>Hes a thing</em>, Cortaner thought, a shiver of dread racing down his spine. It took a lot to unsettle him, yet this man managed to shake him to his core. <em>A soulless </em><em><strong>thing</strong></em><em>.</em>

    This gaze unnerved Cortaner for a reason he couldnt exin. Like he was being <em>judged</em>.

    What are you looking at, freak?! Cortaner raised his ming fists. You want to fight?!

    The Silence stayed still like a panther ready to jump. Cortaners heart pounded in his chest, his body alert and his spine straight.

    What are you two doing? a voice called out to them.

    Cortaner turned toward the vige. Captain Kheti walked into sight with two other men, his khopesh drawn and stained with blood. One of his soldiers was dragging a screaming native woman by the hair.

    Cortaner hesitated like he did with the Fiddler earlier, then said, Nothing.

    Yes, <em>nothing</em>. So get to <em>work</em>. Captain Kheti walked past him. Theres more of these savages north of our position.

    Cortaner lowered his hands, his fists curling in frustration. The Silence lost interest in him and walked deeper into the vige without a word. Captain Kheti oversaw the corpses, his eyes widening in shock upon noticing the Iremian woman among them and then squinting upon noticing the dead child with lighter skin.

    What a whore, the captain whispered under his breath. Repulsive.

    The rest of the night was a blur, a whirlwind of blood and mes and screams and death. Cortaner somewhat remembered killing two more men, or maybe three. Battle was easier when he let his numbed mind and body act through the motions.

    He would have loved to say this had been a fight worth remembering, but that would have been a lie. The natives brought stones in a sh of steel and iron. Their arrows bounced off the Brigades armor and their spears couldnt pierce through chain mail. It could only end one way.

    When atst the vige became silent, naught but smoke and ashes remained. Cortaner looked down on the dead. The Doctor scalped them with a grim expression while a few aplices looted them of their belongings. The Fiddler sawed a womans hand with his sword to take her ivory bracelet. Sergeant Seto stood in front of a scalped corpse pile with a haunted look before setting them on fire with his weapon. Other menughed at the spectacle and exchanged jokes about roasted meat. If the red-eyed girl was among them, Cortaner couldnt tell.

    The dead all looked the same to him.

    Cortaner had looted corpses before, but this time this time, he did not. Somehow the idea left a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldnt exin why. This victory felt hollow.

    Maybe it was the scale of the ughter? He had killed men before in bar brawls andbat, and raided a few coastal viges for money as a pirate, but never put a whole ce to the torch. Usually, mercenaries always spared a few peasants, if only to ransom them, yet Captain Kheti insisted on executing <em>everyone</em>. When a soldier argued with him over keeping one of the women for himself, theirmander had her beheaded instead.

    If Captain Kheti knew these people werent Kaliyarans, he didnt mention it. Cortaner guessed he didnt care either way.

    Cortaner, the Fiddler called him somewhat fearfully. Here.

    Cortaner turned toward the fool. The fires in his hands had long died out, so he easily grabbed the set of bloodied skin and hair thrown at him. He stared at them with a strange feeling building up in his stomach. One he didnt like one bit.

    Whats this? Cortaner asked, though he already knew the answer.

    Your share. The Fiddler gave him a fearful look, as if expecting to be killed if he misspoke. You got four out of fifty-three.

    <em>Fifty-three. </em>Cortaner nced at the burned ruins.<em> All of this for fifty-three silver.</em>

    He had sowed his fair share of ughter in the past, so why Why did it feel different this time?

    This sick feeling in his stomach only worsened when he noticed soldiers adding the Iremian woman and the child the Silence killed to the burning pile. The image of the former patting thetters head vividly red back in his mind, quickly followed by that kids seething re. A beautiful moment soiled with violence.

    Was this feeling in his stomach <em>shame</em>?

    What was there to be ashamed of?

    Cortaner searched for the hooded bastard who started this whole mess. The Silence sat atop the charred ruins of a house, slouched and still as stone. Waiting for something.

    Cortaner could have mistaken the Silence for another corpse in his current position. Whereas every man in the Brigade carried either loot or trophies of their own, he alone shunned any trophy. Somehow that detail alone unnerved Cortaner more than all the blood and destruction.

    What of him? Cortaner asked. The Silence had killed more people than anyone else today, then he carried no scalp. Why is he empty-handed?

    I tried to give him his share of scalps. The Fiddler shrugged his shoulders. He didnt want them.

    She ran all night long.

    Her lungs burned within her chest. Her feet bled and her throat was dry as sand. She had no tears left to cry with. And why bother? No one was left to listen anyway. When she stumbled on roots and crashed on flowers, no one helped her get back up.

    Everyone was dead.

    Mother It hurt her in the head to remember. To remember the knife and the blood. As for her sister Merites the way her head had fallen off her shoulders she struggled with the urge to vomit.

    And Father That bald man killed Father too with his burning evil hands. Hed killed Father and then let her go. Hed <em>killed </em>Father and then let <em>her </em>go.

    Because she wasnt worth his time.

    Because she was <em>weak</em>.

    Neferoa?

    She looked up as she heard her name being called. A man in clergy clothes stepped out of the foliage, his hand covering his mouth at the sight of her. Armed warriors follow him; people from the nearest vige.

    She recognized the man. Father Nimlot of the Arcane Abbey. He often gave lessons at the school Mother sent her to each Barday.

    Neferoa? The priest immediately crouched next to Neferoa and helped her get to her feet. What happened? We saw the smoke and

    Irem, she said, her voice deepened by all the crying. It was <em>always </em>Irem. Irem Irem killed them.

    One day, she would destroy them.

    <em>One day.</em>

 Chapter Twenty-Eight: Interlude: The Inquisitor (2 out of 2)

    Chapter Twenty-Eight: Interlude: The Inquisitor (2 out of 2)

    The sickness in his stomach wouldnt leave him.

    It only worsened when they returned to Port Nguruh, where a crowd of Iremian colonists weed them with cheers and acim. Cortaner caught flower nes with his bloodstained hands, the Fiddlerughed as women threw themselves at him, and Captain Kheti saluted the civilians like a conquering hero returning from a victorious campaign. Only the Silence reacted with utter indifference.

    The Kheti Brigade selected a gambling den called the <em>Abyss </em>as its home base; the owner gave them rooms for free as defenders of the nation, though they would still have to pay for drinks and whores. Cortaner would have usually spent his hard-won coins on the former and ended the evening under a table.

    Not this time.

    Cortaner sat alone in a noisy pandemonium of vice and revelry. Flickering rednterns hanging from the wooden ceiling and windows lined with crimson curtains gave the Abyss gambling hall a sense of sultry intimacy, though the colors only reminded Cortaner of the blood he had shed. The heady smell of rum and a haze of opium smoke gave him a headache. His fellow soldiers huddled around gambling tables side-by-side with sailors and cutthroats, spending their silver as swiftly as they collected it. Ever-shifting piles of coins and cards rose and fell to the turn of fast-paced games. The Fiddler danced on a table with his instrument, and he yed passably well for once. Women of low virtue led fools to the rooms upstairs for a quick dalliance.

    Cortaner usually enjoyed these ces, yet he felt too sick for cards or whoring. A few others shared his sour mood too. Sergeant Seto and the Doc upied a table not too far from his own, both of them with grim looks on their faces. They did order drinks unlike Cortaner, but hardly touched them. The massacre had shaken them more than they thought.

    <em>Weaklings</em>, Cortaner told himself, though he felt like a hypocrite to think this. He was barely better than those two. <em>Whats happening to me?</em>

    Another noticed his unusual behavior.

    What is it, Cortaner? Captain Kheti asked as he sat at Cortaners table, a ss of wine in hand. You dont look so good.

    Whereas Sergeant Seto turned out to be no older than twenty and utterly unremarkable without his mask on, Captain Kheti was an aging, wrinkled Iremian man with a salt and pepper beard. His broad, weathered face belonged to the veteran of many battles. He possessed a strange grandfatherly aura which his cold, calcting eyes always betrayed.

    I dont know, Cortaner replied. Hed killed dozens across his years and participated in his fair share of ughter. Death never stopped him from drinking or sleeping soundly. So why did this time feel different?

    Cortaner thought about it a great many times. A single image always red in the back of his mind: that of a mother patting her childrens heads right before the Silences knife struck her down. He couldnt exin why, but that scene bothered Cortaner more than all the deaths the Brigade had sowed.

    The woman, Cortaner rasped. Its that womans fault.

    Ah, yes. Captain Kheti sipped from his ss. A shame, that one.

    A shame? Yes, Cortaner felt shamed by her death. He didnt understand why. He hadnt killed herthe Silence didand he even let her surviving kid go. All he did was watch her die.

    It was the Silences fault. No one elses. Cortaner searched for the creep with his eyes, only to find him missing from the gambling hall.

    Wheres the Silence? Cortaner wondered out loud.

    Upstairs with a whore. Captain Kheti shrugged. I suppose even people like him feel the need to be loved.

    Somehow Cortaner doubted the Silence was the kind of person to enjoy physical intimacy. Something about that mute creep rubbed him the wrong way. Hed seen freaks before, but that mans soulless gaze managed to unnerve Cortaner to his core.

    Who is he? Cortaner asked his superior officer.

    I dont know. Hes not a prisoner on probation, but a volunteer. I dont care where hees from so long as he does the job. Captain Kheti turned to a waitress who passed near their table. Two tes of veal please.

    I am not hungry, Cortanerined.

    You will be. Captain Kheti yed with his ss as the waitress left to get their food. Ive been deployed since the great revolt of six-hundred sixty-seven, Cortaner.

    Good for you, Cortaner replied with a grunt, uninterested.

    Captain Kheti ignored the remark. I will share with you a revtion Ive had over my time here. He slouched in his chair like some grandfather about to tell his wayward grandson a war story. Iremian explorer ships discovered the Fire Inds over a century ago by following the journals left by Danie the Wanderer. She had recorded this archipgo as <em>the Goddess Crown Jewel </em>or something like that.

    So Ive heard. The story was well known.

    This ce lives up to its name, dont you think? Beautiful waters, shining beaches of sand, warmth, and sun all year long, so many sweet fruits and spices abundant resources. Including one of thergest runestone deposits in the world. Captain Kheti smiled. Not the West. The <em><strong>world</strong></em>. Its why my superiors are willing to spend fortunes of gold and manpower on this region.

    Cortaner snorted. I thought it was to protect the locals from themselves.

    We need to cover security costs <em>somehow</em>, Captain Kheti replied evasively. Anyway, the inders won fates lottery whenpared to Irem. Where ournds are covered in lifeless deserts with scarce water, their own is abundant with natural resources. Theyre so far away at sea that they never waged a modern war until the Shinkoku invaded them. Sure they share their homes with beastmen and behemoths, but most of them stick to the deep jungles. The natives had all the tools needed to build a peaceful and prosperous civilization.

    The waitress finally arrived with slices of veal. Captain Kheti slipped her a coin, grabbed a fork, and moved on to eat with aristocratic grace.

    And yet, Captain Kheit said in between bites, when our ancestors found them, the savages had yet to discover how to smelt iron. <em>Iron</em>. They were split into a hundred tribes who did little but raid each other, with no settlement worthy of being called a city. The first day the Kaliyara made contact with explorers, they tried to sell them captured ves in exchange for shiny copper. Even after the Erebian League built schools for the natives and tried to integrate them into our modern civilization, most still struggle to do so.

    Whats your point? Cortaner asked wearily.

    Captain Kheti met his eyes. The brownies, he said with a cold, sincere voice, are not humans.

    Cortaner held his superior officers gaze without a word.

    They look <em>humanoid </em>the same way the beastmen do, enough that some perverts would breed with them, but they suffer from innate moral and intellectual deficiencies. They are like cattle who need a strong, steady hand to be productive members of society. Captain Kheti quickly finished his te while Cortaner didnt touch his. That woman you feel sorry for, Cortaner? She was fucking a <em>cow</em>.

    Cortaners fists clenched on their own, his blood boiling in his veins.

    So when you doubt yourself next time, Cortaner, think of that veal slice in front of you. Captain Kheti set aside his empty te. Killing these savages is no different than piling more meat on the te.

    The same urge that nearly caused Cortaner to kill the Fiddler returned. A surge of subdued anger awoke him from his gloomy mood, though he couldnt exin why he felt that way. Cortaner held back, however. He might get away with a bar brawl, but not raising his hand against an Iremian officer that held his leash.

    And he sadly wasnt drunk enough not to care.

    Captain Kheti eyed Cortaner without a word. Had he sensed his killing intent or distaste? Whatever the case, he turned away from Cortaner. Someone had mmed the tavern''s door open with such strength that it nearly broke off its hinges.

    An elderly priest walked into the gambling den. The very same one who confronted Captain Kheti the day the brigadended in Nguruh.

    You <em>monsters</em>, he said with more venom than any snake.

    Father Nimlot. Captain Khetis courteous tone hardly hid the disgust underneath. He raised his ss of wine at the priest. Have youe to drink with us?

    Father Nimlot spat into the captains ss.

    The Fiddler stopped ying at the sight, while the rest of the brigade turned to observe the scene. Captain Kheti tensed up, his hand clenching his ss.

    Those people were not Kaliyarans, the priest said, his eyes burning with anger.

    They looked that way to us, Captain Kheti replied coldly. How would you even know? Unless youre friendly with the savages, of course

    The priest didnt back down. How much did the runestone miners pay you for this atrocity, Kheti? Fifty silver? A hundred?

    Why? The Fiddler asked, vaguely interested. You think they could pay us more?

    Shut up, Captain Kheti said, though Cortaner couldnt tell whether his words were aimed at the Fiddler or the Priest.

    Father Nimlot turned his attention to Sergeant Seto. What of you, Seto? Can you still sleep with a clear conscience?

    The sergeant didnt have the balls to meet the priests gaze. Its not my ce to question the capitals orders, Father.

    So you are no more than a weapon to be wielded? A dog to be trained? When the sergeant would not answer, the priest turned to Cortaner. You Ive heard youre a witchcrafter.

    So what? Cortaner snorted. Leave me out of this, old man.

    Why dont <em>you </em>leave? A witchcrafter can find any kind of well-paying job. Why take the kind that involves killing children?

    <em>Why are you wasting your life away?</em> Master So Xian had asked him a long time ago.

    Cortaner would have punched the priest dead for this, but the sickness in his stomach returned stronger than ever, draining him of his resolve.

    Im serving my sentence, he replied gruffly.

    Bymitting <em>more </em>crimes? Father Nimlot red at the gathered felons. If our people back home heard half of what their armed forces have done

    Captain Khetiughed in the priests face. You think they care what happens here, a thousand leagues away from the capital? They care about keeping runestone prices low. Thats all. His smile had all the sweetness of rotting flesh. Go home, Father, before I throw you out. You have no power here.

    Father Nimlot shook his head in disgust. The Goddess will punish you all for this one day.

    There is no sin to punish. Captain Kheti ordered another ss of wine to rece the old one. I shall sleep soundly tonight.

    Father Nimlot red at the captain, then found himself facing an assembly of uncaring felons. He turned his back on them all and stepped back through the door. The Fiddler returned to his song, and the <em>Abyss </em>dwellers returned to wallowing in their vices.

    All except for one.

    Cortaner rose from his seat, leaving his te of veal and Captain Kheti behind. He stepped across the gambling hall towards the stairs leading to the upper floors, only for someone to call his name.

    Hey, Cortaner?

    Cortaner looked at one of the gambling tables. A group of three prisoners had gathered there, with one seat empty.

    Wanna y cards? one of the men suggested.

    Cortaners fist flew straight into his face.

    He felt the bones bend under his might before he realized what he had done. The mans jaw dislocated on impact, teeth cracked, and blood stained Cortaners fingers. His victims face crashed on the table with enough strength to shatter wood. Cards and coins alike spilled onto the ground, while the mans fellow yers stepped up in fear and surprise.

    Everyone looked in his direction, a tense silence taking over the gambling den. Cortaner stared at the man he had knocked out cold for a few seconds, then at his bloodstained hand. He walked away without a word towards the stairs while the Doc rushed to examine the wounded.

    No one stopped him.

    I warned you, Cortaner heard the Fiddler mock the card yers. I warned you, but no one listens to the singer.

    The raucous mor below returned by the time Cortaner moved on to the upper floor. He passed by the Silences room, noticing liquid spilling from below the closed door. A thick, crimson fluid with a sinister metallic smell.

    Blood.

    Cortaner stared at the puddle for a moment, his thought processing to a screeching halt. His mind came up with a thousand grisly scenarios, with one possibility standing atop all the others.

    <em>I suppose even people like him feel the need to be loved, </em>the Captain had said.

    People might feel that way but not the Silence.

    Cortaner stared at the door and strongly considered kicking it down. But what would it change? That girl was probably dead anyway, and Cortaner had already assaulted two other teammates. Captain Kheti would not forgive a third strike.

    <em>She deserved it, </em>Cortaner told himself as he looked away from the door and the blood. <em>Everyone could tell he was a creep. Its not my problem not my fight.</em>

    The words felt hollow even in his head.

    Cortaner tried to clear his mind as he returned to his own room. It was far bigger than his cell, with a small bathroom and an ornate mirror near the window. Cortaner hated to look at his own reflection. Something in it always angered him. He sat on the mattress, trying and failing to clear his mind.

    <em>Why dont </em><em><strong>you </strong></em><em>leave?</em>

    It was the priests fault. His words wouldnt leave Cortaners head.

    <em>Why dont I leave?</em>

    To his surprise, Cortaner found himself short of an easy answer. It couldnt be money. He could earn a lot more by working as a witchcrafter polishing tools. It was what Master So Xian had hoped for him after hepleted his training.

    Was it the love of the fight? Cortaner enjoyed putting his skills to the test against worthy foes, but there was nothing glorious in killing women and children.

    Was it fear of Irem? They did have a long reach, especially now that they collected his blood, but escape wasnt impossible either. If Cortaner boarded a ship to the Everbright Empire and returned to the continent, he doubted Kheti and the others would hunt him down.

    So why didnt he leave? Why did he always get roped up in piracy and mercenary work?

    <em>Because its all Ive ever known, </em>Cortaner thought.<em> I cant see myself living any other way.</em>

    That was the answer hede up with, and somehow it sounded wrong.

    He should clear his mind. Cortaner grabbed his waterskin and anointed his hands with oil. When meditation and alcohol failed him, essence crafting often helped him focus. He rubbed his fingers and let the mes flicker. The fire in his palms illuminated the room.

    It was different from other times, somehow. His skin began to prickle near the fingers. His sweat boiled. The heat rose too quickly, too intensely. The essence was all <em>wrong</em>. The mes burned with an unnatural, sick yellow glow.

    <em>Whats this?</em> Cortaner wondered. When he looked into the mes, he sensed something staring back at him. Was it the Firewand itself visiting him for his Second Awakening? <em>No, the fire it feels</em>

    Wrathful.

    A lion-headed shadow stared back at him from inside his burning palms, angry and malicious.

    <em>Burn, soldier, </em>it said with a thundering voice backed by a thousand war drums. <em>War is a pyre, and all men are kindling.</em>

    A primal fear seized Cortaners heart. His body acted on its own, his feet carrying him to the bathroom where he doused the mes in a pool of water. A cloud of steam swallowed him whole, silencing the voice.

    It haunted his nightmares all the same.

    The Brigade left in a hurry the next day.

    Captain Kheti paid the innkeeper a hefty sum for the whore the Silence had murdered, then punished the man by docking his pay, cutting his rations by half, and extending his contract by another six months; a far lighter sentence than those enforced against deserters. Most men on the Brigade would have resented serving another six months with no financial gain to show for it, but Cortaner had the feeling the Silence didnt care all that much.

    Ive heard he gutted her chin to groin, like a fish, Cortaner heard the men whisper among themselves; the gambler he crippled was among them, a host of bandages covering his mouth. The Doc threw up when he found her.

    Such a shame, the Fiddler said in disgust. She was one of the pretty ones.

    <em>Hes not human</em>, Cortaner thought as the Silence walked among them, silent and deadly. He was convinced of it now. <em>Humans dont do that.</em>

    Part of him wondered what would have happened if he had opened that door upon seeing the blood spilling on the floor. If he had gotten the Doc to her in time before the Silencepleted his grisly work. If he had done something, <em>anything</em>.

    <em>She was weak and a fool, </em>Cortaner told himself.<em> She deserved it, to get caught like that a weakling and a fool</em>

    No matter how many times he repeated it in his mind, these words sounded hollow to him.

    Cortaner. Captain Khetis voice shook him out of his dark thoughts. Father Nimlot and his associates filed aint to the Iremian Protectorate. Said we nearly created a Blight back at the vige. Is that the case?

    The face of that mother and her dead whelp burning in the pyre red in Cortaners mind. A sharp pain erupted in his skull, as if his very brain boiled on the inside.

    Cortaner? Captain Kheti asked with a hint of concern.

    I I dont think so. It would take More dead children? More screaming women, more rape and murder? More.

    Thats what I thought. Captain Kheti nodded to himself, unconcerned. That sentimental fool Nimlot cant do much, but we cant exploitnds tainted by a Blight. My superiors will put an end to the initiative if we create one.

    What do we do, Captain? Sergeant Seto asked. What are your orders?

    Well have to pick up the pace. Put Nimlot and his cowardly lot before aplished facts. Captain Kheti smiled as he put on his masked helmet. Well burn the jungle from one side of the ind to the other.

    <em>Burn. </em>Cortaner looked at his hands. His fingers still bore sores fromst night. <em>Burn</em>.

    Burn them they did.

    The second settlement they hit was too small to be called a vige. It was no more than a set of houses around a strange totem of wood. Whatever spirit or Artifact it meant to represent, it went up in smoke with everything and everyone else.

    Cortaner killed two more men during the attack. Brothers, from the look of it.

    He didnt use his mes this time. He was afraid. Afraid of seeing that creature looking back at him, using him, judging him.

    Yet when they set the corpses upon a pyre there it was, a shadow sitting atop a plume of smoke and enthroned on a dozen burning dead. No one else could seem to see it yet there it stood, taunting Cortaner.

    <em>There is no escaping the fire of your guilt,</em> it said. <em>You carry its torch with you.</em>

    The days started to blur together.

    One morning Sergeant Seto set a riverside on fire while crossbowmen waited near the water to ambush anyone trying to escape the mes. One night they hanged three men they caught somehow. The alcohol dulled Cortaners wits and memories, but not the headaches nor the sharp pain in his stomach.

    One day they ambushed natives in a clearing and were ambushed themselves the next. Both attacks ended the same way. Stones and wood always fell to steel. Death walked among the living, reaping its toll.

    Cortaner felt sicker with each new sunset, each new attack. He no longer remembered the number of scalps added to his name, but he knew the number kept climbing. A few more stepstones on a fleshy stair reaching to the heavens.

    He hade to learn more about his teammates over thest few weeks... and came to loathe every single one of them. The Fiddler was a greedy coward good only for singing and counting scalps. Captain Kheti only opened his mouth to give orders or speeches about the righteousness of their cause. Sergeant Seto was apdog who acted strong with his men, and weak with his superior.

    Only the Doc was halfway tolerable, and each new attack seemed to sap his strength a little more. He hardly spoke nowadays. Cortaner never bothered to learn what crimended him in the unit, but it must have paled inparison to what hed witnessed over thest few operations.

    The rest of the men were a bunch of cutthroats hardly better than the shit they left in their wake, though their cruelty paled before the Silences.

    Now that he had observed him in battle, Cortaner would rate the Silence as the second deadliest member of the brigade in a fight behind himself. The madmans refusal to wear armor would cost him his life someday, but his lethal precision and agility let him reap a harvest of blood. He had no tactical instinct whatsoever, attacking armed warriors and helpless children indiscriminately.

    Cortaner had never seen him torment the natives before the kill the way other soldiers did. When a ughter ended, the Silence would simply find a ce to sit and slouch like a corpse until they moved on to the next target. He kept to himself. When the brigade stopped to rest, he ate and drank far from the group so no one would see his face. Cortaner never saw him y dice, read, or enjoy himself. The Silence killed more people than a third of the Brigadebined, but never bothered to im a single scalp.

    After a while, Cortaner had to ept the obvious.

    The Silence lived to kill. Nothing else.

    And worst of all he didnt even seem to enjoy it.

    <em>Hes not human,</em> Cortaner kept telling himself. <em>Hes a demon. Some masked beast that crawled out of a Blight. Hes Death.</em>

    Deep down, when he tried and failed to meditate, Cortaner knew he meant something else.

    <em>Im not like him. Im better. Im human.</em>

    <em>Six months, </em>Cortaner kept telling himself. Six months and then he could leave. Leave it all behind.

    <em>Why dont you leave? A witchcrafter can find any kind of well-paying job. Why take the kind that involves killing </em><em><strong>children</strong></em><em>?</em>

    What difference would it make? Cortaner always ended up working as a pirate or mercenary; whenever he tried to live an honest life, he blew it up by hitting the wrong person. There were always greater lows to fall deeper into.

    Why did he always get roped up in these kinds of messes?

    The sentries perished without a sound. Two men crouched on roofs of reeds, little more than shadows cast by predawn gloom. Quarrels hit them in the chests and sent them tumbling down to the ground as Captain Kheti gave the attack order.

    Word of the raids had spread to the frontier settlements. The Brigade mostly encountered empty houses nowadays. This vige either refused to evacuate or didnt receive a warning. Its people would pay the price.

    More crossbow bolts flew, piercing through walls and entering through windows. Men with spears came bursting out only to be cut down by steel swords. Cortaner didnt remember if he participated. By now he spent most of his time in his head, his soulless body going through terrible motions rehearsed far too many times. Sergeant Seto set a house on fire with people still inside. The helmeted shadow arose from the fire to oversee the devastation, unseen by all other than Cortaner, grimly holding on to a sword of smoke.

    The battle did notst long, for it was not a battle. Kill, scalp, burn. Kill, scalp, burn. That was all they did. Cortaner only did the first part, yet as his eyes oversaw the burning shacks that used to be homes and the piled dead, he felt guilty of all three. The Fiddler yed a song to cover the noise of cracking wood while Captain Kheti forced the Doc to scalp the dead; his punishment for arguing with his superior against the attack.

    Where are the Kaliyarans? Cortaner muttered to himself.

    What? the Fiddler asked while ying his instrument.

    Its the Sixth? Seventh? How many settlements had they raided? Cortaner forgot to count. So many dead, and weve yet to encounter Kaliyarans.

    The Doc gave him a weary nce. You still dont get it, do you?

    Get what? Cortaner rasped back. Something in the four-eyes tone annoyed him to no end.

    Were on the wrong side of the ind. There are no Kaliyarans settlements for leagues around us. The Doc looked down. But there are runestone deposits a few feet below us.

    The sick feeling in Cortaners stomach became unbearable. The attacks

    There are attacks against colonists. Just not <em>here</em>. The Doc stared at a freshly cut scalp with disgust. Were not protecting anyone; were clearing thend of its inhabitants for future exploitation.

    Who cares? the Fiddler asked with a shrug. We get paid either way.

    The Doc red at him. This is wrong.

    Then why havent you run away, Doc? The Fiddler chuckled. Methinks you are talking a big game about preserving the life of others, but yourses first.

    The Doc looked down, his silence an answer in itself.

    Thought so, the Fiddler mocked him.

    Shut up, Cortaner snapped angrily. Or Ill kill you.

    The Fiddler had the sense to step back. He remembered theirst physical encounter all too well. Gee, Cortaner, why are you so angry all the time? he muttered under his breath. This is the job of a lifetime.

    Cortaner nearly punched him to death for that, yet confusion steered his hand away.

    Why was he so angry all the time?

    As far as Cortaner remembered the fury always lurked inside him, waiting to burst out for the simplest reasons. Like a sword waiting for an excuse to be drawn. What kept it so sharp all the time?

    What was he angry <em>at</em>?

    <em>The Berserk me burns within thy heart.</em>

    The voice echoed from within the charnel pyres, stronger and more terrible than before. The very air choked with anger and corrupted essence. Cortaner nced at the figure rising from the smoke, at this strange phantom who seemed to oversee this ashennd as if it were its kingdom. The edge of its silhouette had sharpened.

    Who Cortaner rasped, his throat dry and sore. Who are you?

    The entity deigned to look down on him, the mark of a sinister sword glowing on his hand. <em>War is my crown and the battlefield my kingdom, </em>it said.<em> I am the Lord of Wrath, Belgoroth; the one true Knight whose sword shall drive evil from the realms. The despiser of all.</em>

    The The Lord of Wrath? The Demon Ancestor? Impossible. He was nothing more than a legend. A ghost from a past long gone.

    <em>I have seen killersy with widows and strangle virgins,</em> the demon said.<em> I have heard the screams of the faithless in the dungeons and those of the faithful on the stake. I have bore witness to starving masses and silent children buried in hills of mud. I have watched seven centuries of war and torment, of the young repeating the mistakes of the old.</em>

    The Demon Ancestor waved a hand at the dead and the living, condemning them both with a grim sentence.

    <em>Understand that you will find no salvation, fool. Thy wicked human nature cannot be changed; neither by time nor thy best efforts.</em>

    Go away, Cortaner snapped, his brain burning within his skull. The smoke and ashes in the air only strengthened his headaches. Stay out of my head!

    Who are you talking to? The Doc asked, his tone fearful.

    <em>Then cease to call me, </em>the Lord of Wrath replied. <em>Your sins give me shape. Your fury grants me strength. Your faults stain the purity of my purpose and your crimes beckon my judgment. If youmitted no sin, I would have nothing to punish.</em>

    Nothing to punish?

    Cortaner inhaled the fury-charged essence carried by the smoke. Evil itself had settled into the ashes of the dead; the very evil he had helped sow.

    Their crimes wouldnt create a Blight this time but the next massacre might. Each new act of bloodshed stained thisnd a little more, like an open wound on ones skin invited disease to settle in. Compounding corruption.

    <em>I shall burn this ravagednd until evil has been driven from it,</em> the Lord of Wrath said. <em>There shall be no ck and white among the gray ashes. Death shall be mankinds absolution.</em>

    The wind arose with the dawn, dispersing the shadowy demon and his throne of smoke. Cortaner stared at the me in silence, his teammates warily gazing at his back. They must think him mad.

    Perhaps they were right. Cortaner had been mad to follow them for so long.

    Pack your things, Captain Kheti ordered behind him. Were leaving.

    Already? the Fiddlerined.

    The Silence spotted another settlement a little further north, Captain Kheti exined. Bigger than this one. If were quick, we can still hit the savages before they have time to flee.

    Cortaner heard the order, but did not acknowledge it. He looked at his greasy hands. The blood on them hadnt dried yet. It still felt fresh. How many people had these hands killed? Dozens? Hundreds?

    He had told himself they deserved it because they were weak. Because they pissed him off.

    Cortaner? Captain Kheit asked behind him. Pack your things.

    Now Now Cortaner realized that no matter how many people hed in, itd never alleviated the fury inside him. Someone else fueled him. Someone who had been at his side from the start.

    Cortaner was angry at <em>himself</em>.

    <em>He </em>was the weak one. Too weak to change his ways. Too weak to take control of his miserable life. Too weak to do better.

    Cortaner? Captain Kheti repeated, his tone sharper than before.

    No, Cortaner replied sternly.

    The word flowed out of his mouth on its own, and the sickness in his stomach vanished with it. A weight was lifted from his shoulders.

    A tense silence settled on, which Captain Kheti quickly broke. <em>No</em>?

    No. Cortaner turned to face him. Him and the armed fools of the Kheti Brigade. Im <em>done</em>.

    Raids had caused the Kheti Brigades numbers to dwindle over twenty members; they had lost a handful of men to the jungles beasts, diseases, and the rare sessful enemy ambusha fact that annoyed Captain Kheti to no end. Twenty against one.

    The men had gathered for the march and now faced Cortaner. Some like the Fiddler feared him; others, like the one he had punched back in Port Nguruh, kept their swords sharp, waiting for the order to attack. Sergeant Seto obediently stood behind his superior, his house-burning weapon twitching in his feeble hands. Only the Silence was still out there, scouting.

    Have I misheard, Cortaner? the Captain threatened, a hand on his khopeshs hilt. Are you <em>deserting</em>?

    Cortaner shook his head. His mind was set. Im not running away this time.

    Good, Captain Kheti replied, satisfied. Then get back to work

    Cortaners open palm hit the captains throat faster than the wind.

    His fingers aimed at the spot between the helmet and armor with deadly precision, crushing the windpipe in a single deadly blow. Cortaner felt bone crack under the pressure of his hand. Captain Kheti gargled and dropped to the ground in an instant. He was dead before he hit the ground; his body might still try gasping for air for a few more seconds, but it would perish all the same. No eloquent tirade would ever escape that crushed throat again.

    The same technique had killed far better men.

    For a few seconds, none of the brigades men dared to move. Their captain died so fast that their minds struggled to process what happened right before their eyes. None of them had expected Cortaner to go through with this; what sane man would have? Sergeant Seto himself stared at his officer falling to the ground with shock.

    You are monsters who need to <em>die </em>for the good of <em>everyone else</em>. Cortaner gathered his breath and stepped forward. And so am I.

    No more excuses.

    Cortaner fearlessly jumped into the melee, no longer caring whether he lived or died. His fists hit a skull and pounded it into fine paste. The blood was warm on his fingers, and for once, it felt <em>right</em>.

    The Kheti Brigade erupted like a boiling ho hive answering a threat. Swords were drawn, crossbows raised and armed. The Doc, wiser than most, fled rather than fight. The rest stood their ground, either out of mistaken bravery or arrogance in their numbers.

    Youre dead, Cortaner! the Fiddler warned as he and a few cutthroats moved to nk him. Alone against twenty!

    <em>Youre wrong</em>, Cortaner thought as he dodged a sword swing aiming for his head. <em>I was dead long before I joined your damned lot.</em>

    But today?

    Today, he lived again.

    Years of training kicked back into action. Skills Cortaner had honed in Seukaia awakened after a long slumber, focused by renewed purpose. He kicked a mans head off his shoulders, plunged his fist through a chest, and sent the Fiddler flying with a backhand. Cortaner felt sharp pain in his back as a sword left a gash through it, his blood stained the ashen ground, but he did not stop. He turned to face the attacker just long enough to kill him in one decisive blow.

    When three crossbowmen pointed their weapons at him, Cortaner grabbed Captain Khetis corpse and raised it as a shield. Two bolts impacted the corpses chest and while another hit Cortaner in the thigh, the pain felt nothingpared to the one within his heart. He threw Captain Khetis remains at the men and kept charging without pause.

    Sergeant Seto raised his weapon and unleashed a stream of fire at Cortaner, caring not that two other men were in range too. The mes consumed the soldiers and Cortaner alike. But he did not scream. His hands wove the essence around his hands as he charged closer to their source.

    When Cortaner emerged from the mes unscathed, Sergeant Seto could only blink in shock. Cortaner grabbed the metal tip of the weapon and then forcefully pointed it at the soldiers face. Sergeant Seto let out a skyward scream as the mes he once unleashed upon so many innocents consumed him. His metal armor seared against his skin as his flesh went up in mes. He finished his course on the smoking ruins of an incinerated house, never to rise again.

    The soldiers steel can stop spears, but Cortaner had trained to shatter stone in the mountains with his bare hands. The metal bent to his strength, as did the flesh underneath. Now that the advantage of their equipment no longer mattered, the difference in skill became clear and absolute. The Kheti Brigade fought with little discipline nor coordination. They were criminals used to fighting unarmed civilians and untrained militia, not a <em>real </em>warrior. When faced with overwhelming strength and resistance, they folded like paper.

    By the time most of themy dead at Cortaners feet, the rest tried to run away. Cortaner didnt let them. After grabbing a crossbow from a dead mans hands, he quickly unloaded the quarrels on the deserters. His aim was true and they fell like the rest.

    Tossing the crossbow aside, Cortaner nced over the area for survivors. He saw one on the ground trying to crawl away undetected.

    The Fiddler paled like a ghost when he realized he had been caught. Cortaner noticed his instrument nearby, grabbed it, and took a step forward.

    W-w-w-wait! the Fiddler pleaded on the ground, his arms raised in surrender. Wait, I I can pay you! I know where the money is st

    Cortaner smashed the fiddle against its owners head, silencing him for good.

    At longst, the vige was dead silent. Cortaner was surrounded by the dead almost. Onest challenger remained. A shadow emerging without a word nor reason.

    The Silence stepped over the dead with a knife in each hand. The Docy on the mud behind him, his throat slit open.

    How long had the Silence been there, watching? Had he been waiting for this ughter all along? He did not look surprised. In fact, his fingers twitched with what could pass for excitement. Like hed been looking forward to this battle.

    "Why?" Cortaner asked. "I want to know before I kill you. He waved a hand at the Doc. Why all this?

    For the first time since theyd met, the Silences gaze showed a hint of emotion; a look of absolute confusion, as if Cortaner had asked him an unsolvable question. The Silence considered his answer for a few seconds.

    Then he spoke up.

    "I don''t know," the Silence said with a small, coarse voice. "I''ve never asked."

    He flung one of the knives at Cortaner faster than any arrow.

    Cortaner lowered his back to dodge the projectile; yet the pain in his thigh sharply reminded him of the quarrel still stuck in it. The knife missed by an inch and the Silence closed the gap between them in an instant, his final weapon aiming for Cortaners throat. Cortaner raised his arms to protect himself, the de slicing his skin and drawing blood, before retaliating with a punch. The Silence dodged the blow with a panthers grace, dancing around his prey with light steps.

    Cortaner was stronger and more experienced, but he was wounded and the Silence walked into the battle fresh. The mute creep was <em>fast </em>too. He was in one ce one second and hopping around the next. His knife left a sh of light with each swing, always aiming for the throat, the chest, and the vitals.

    Cortaner did his best to dodge, but he felt the des edge cut deeper with each swing. Deep wounds opened up on his chest, his thighs, and his shoulders, spilling blood onto the warm ground. Cortaners own fists hit only air or stone.

    The rush of adrenaline faded and the pain of his wounds red up all at once. He stumbled to his knees, his guard wide open. The Silence, sensing his chance, lunged for the kill.

    His de entered Cortaners chest, slipping between the armors chinks and kissing the flesh underneath. Crimson fluid spilled on the steel and painted it red.

    The Silence only realized his mistake once Cortaners hand closed around his wrist. His eyes widened in a brief sh of fear, but it was already toote.

    The Silences arm broke under the strength of Cortaners grip, forcing him to let go of his weapon. Cortaners other hand grabbed his foe by the throat and would not let it go. The pain in his chest was more terrible than anything he had ever experienced, but he still smiled ear to ear.

    Lets see you hop around now, Cortaner rasped.

    He mmed the Silences head against the ground with all his strength. The mans body went limp, hisck of armor costing him the fight. Cortaners hand removed the knife in his chest, blood flowing from the open wound, then raised it.

    He plunged it right into the bastards twisted heart.

    The Silence did not scream. Not even when Cortaner stabbed him through his chest and twisted the knife. He did not scream. He kept staring up at Cortaner with the same soulless gaze he always wore all the time right until the life went out of them.

    When Cortaners weakening hand stripped the Silence of his mask, he half-expected to see a monster. A savage beastman, a horned horror straight out of the yellow mes the Kheti Brigade had sowed across the jungle.

    The truth hidden under the mask was even more terrible.

    A man.

    A youth in his twenties, utterly unremarkable except for the color of his skin, so brown it verged on ck.

    An inder.

    The Silence, who had killed more natives than anyone else in the Brigade, was an inder himself. Somehow it made him even more loathsome in Cortaners eyes.

    No wonder the Silence hid his face from the others and felt so at home in the jungle. Did Captain Kheti suspect the truth? Did he even care?

    Cortaner did not wonder for long. He copsed on a bed of ash, blood pouring from the half dozen wounds he had sustained. Pain wracked his body worse than any hangover or post-battle fatigue, his life was slipping away, and yet yet his mind was finally cleared.

    After so many years, Cortaner felt satisfied.

    He looked up to the morning sky. A shadow born of smoke loomed over him to pass judgment on him.

    <em>It is now that you find in yourself a sliver of humanity? </em>The Lord of Wrath shook his head in disdain. <em>Convenient.</em>

    Cortaner snorted, a gargle of blood erupting between his teeth. Shut up and let me die.

    The Lord of Wrath lowered his head, his eyes burning with seething hatred. <em>You will never be forgiven.</em>

    The wind carried the ghost away. Cortaner enjoyed the sight of a clear blue sky, then closed his eyes and waited for death.

    The Goddess did not grant his wish.

    When Cortaner awoke on a bed of feathers with metal shackles holding his hands and feet, he knew someone had cursed him with life. Wet bandages weighed on his chest and cold white walls surrounded him from all sides.

    Finally awake, are you?

    Cortaner managed to look up. Father Nimlot sat at his side, alongside a woman changing his bandages. An Arcane Abbey nun from the look of it.

    How? Cortaner rasped, his throat hurting. His tongue still tasted of ash. How am I still alive?

    I dont know. You were already half-dead when local hunters brought you to me. Father Nimlot observed him sharply. You might be the most resilient man I have ever encountered. Anyone else would have perished twice over under our emergency care.

    Saved by the very people he had been hired to kill. Cortaner would have found the ironyughable if it wasnt so saddening. They should have left me to die.

    Some wanted to grant your wish, but I put a stop to it. Father Nimlot shrugged. You dont deserve to die.

    Because I fought for the right cause for once? Cortaner rasped. Or because death would be too easy a punishment?

    The priest did not say anything. He didnt need to. Cortaner already knew the answer. The truth weighed on his heart and soul.

    There was a native among us, Cortaner thought it important to mention.

    Father Nimlot nodded grimly. He was a Kaliyaran. A hunter exiled from his tribe for murdering a family member, or so I was told.

    The only Kaliyaran the Kheti Brigade had encountered fought under their banner. Cortaner would haveughed at the irony if it wasnt so sickening.

    I suppose he joined your warband to get revenge on his kin, Father Nimlot theorized. Or maybe he found himself right at home among fellow murderers. Monsters flock to each other.

    Cortaner did not care for the Silences reasons. They would not excuse <em>anything</em>. What now, Father?

    You are now a prisoner of the Arcane Abbey, Father Nimlot exined. You will testify for what you have done under Khetis orders to a court ofw in Irem. All of it. The public must know.

    Cortaner snorted. Will it change anything?

    Father Nimlot red at him. Hopefully.

    <em>Hopefully</em>. The word made Cortaner want tough in scorn.

    Then Ill die? Cortaner asked.

    Father Nimlots eyebrow curved slightly. Do you <em>want </em>to die?

    Cortaner looked up at the wooden ceiling. The blood Ive shed the things Ive done He shook his head, ignoring the pain in his neck. Theres no going back from that.

    <em>You will never be forgiven, </em>the Lord of Wrath had said. And he was right.

    Its neither for you nor I to decide. The Goddess will decide your fate, as she judges us all. Father Nimlot rose from his seat. Perhaps only torment awaits. Perhaps redemption is yet within your reach. But you wont know the answer until you work for it.

    The priest walked out of the room, leaving Cortaner alone with the nurse.

    Cortaner looked at the symbol of the Four Artifacts atop the doors threshold, then closed his eyes. <ul><li><em>Present day, Archfrost</em></li></ul>

    The spring sun rose on Archfrost, waking him up.

    Cortaner hadnt truly slept since the witchcrafters merged the armor with his flesh, though he meditated to rest. He found it easy to focus after letting go of the hate and the drinks. Master So Xian would have been proud.

    The pain was worse in the morning. Each dawn felt like being stabbed by the Silence all over again as his armors spikes rammed into his flesh and nerves. But the torment sharpened his focus, letting him clear his mind. Cortaner found his peace in his own suffering.

    He had testified in the end. Been called a beast and stoned in public. Father Nimlot was right though, something did change. The outcry was so great that the Magocracy of Irem abolished penal legions and support for the independence movement picked up in the capital.

    But Irem did not leave the Fire Inds.

    The colonialist party was too well-entrenched and the Magocracys hunger for runestones remained strong. The natives had organized under warlords and pirate queens, fighting back against fire with fire.

    The war continued with no end in sight, its mes fueling the Lord of Wraths kingdom of death.

    Irem wanted Cortaner dead for deserting, but agreed to spare him once the Arcane Abbey suggested that he put on a Penitence Armor. The sorcerers probably thought the procedure would be a fate worse than death unaware that Cortaner had asked for this fate before the trial even began.

    His pain didnt equate to one-tenth of what he had put countless innocents through, but it ensured he would never forget his crimes. He had dedicated his life to the Goddess since, finding the purpose he had sought all his life in the Abbeys teachings.

    He had been bbergasted when the mark of the Inquisitor chose him soon after that mess in the Rivends. He had been hounding Chastel and the Knot of Wrath back then, and though he saw it as a divine sign it took a meeting with the Fatebinder for him to understand it all.

    <em>The Inquisitor is the ss of judgment,</em> Lady Alexios had told him. <em>The hero who condemns and the one who absolves. What better judge is there, than the one who has sinned before and repented?</em>

    He knew why the mark had guided him to Archfrost.

    Belgoroth was his responsibility. Cortaner had helped him return to power, after all. Him, Kheti, and all of Irem. They had worshiped him by waging wars and fed his Berserk me one arson at a time. Kheti, the Silence, and the rest of that band might not have owned cursed coins nor served the Knots, but they were demons nheless. Hed had countless opportunities to stop them, to take the high road, and failed to act upon them.

    Cortaner would never forget the cost of letting their kind live.

    Then, when the Goddess would finally recall his soul to her side perhaps she would look upon his work kindly.

    That was all he could hope for.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine: Enter the Druid

    Chapter Twenty-Nine: Enter the Druid

    The midday sun rose on the Lake of Greed.

    The ce was breathtakingly beautiful in spite of its dreadful name. Theke nested among a patchwork of rolling hills and sunlit fields, its blue-green waters fed by the Volgova River. The warm wind blew across its surface, raising wispy clouds of mist and steam. I noticed an eagle swooping down to catch a fish in its talons and a flock of swans gliding along the waters surface in the shadow of ancient oak trees.

    Id heard tales that the Lake of Greed glimmered like gold in the summer. Unfortunately, the morning gray mist made its waters look more like cold steel to me. The great, half-sunken abbey standing in thekes midst seemed to blink in and out of sight as the fog swirled around it. Its stony fortifications arose from the waters like the fins of a great beast rising from the depths, and the few boats gliding through its cracks were quickly swallowed by the mist.

    Why do they call it the Lake of Greed? Marika asked as she touched the waters with her hand. I dont feel any cupidity in the air.

    Its where the first generation of Heroes defeated and entombed the Devil of Greed, or so the history books say, I replied. Since the first part was untrue, I wondered if I could trust the rest of these ounts. That''s holy water youre washing your hands in.

    I hope the Goddess will forgive me. Marika took a deep breath. Its the first time Ive visited a true Sanctuary.

    I couldnt agree more. The air was purer here than at the top of the tallest mountains, the deep silence soothing rather than oppressive. The lush grass and flowers flourishing along the bank filled my nostrils with a sweet summer smell. This ce revitalized me. I felt fresh after an hours-long grueling march. No monsters disturbed the area either. No dragon nor dreadwolf had dared to make theke their den in centuries.

    Blights formed when human suffering and sins coalesced in great enough quantities to warp thends essence. However, the process applied to all emotions. When happiness, faith, and good deedspounded in one ce, sometimes they blessed the area with eternal bliss.

    Whether theke became this way because our predecessors struck down the Devil of Greed or after centuries of pilgrimages coalesced it into sacred grounds, its power was real now. When the Purple gue struck Archfrost, thousands traveled to its sunken abbey for treatment. The sacred waters could not save everyone; but they helped cure many. The local priests still treated many patients to this day, offering free treatment to the sick and the lepers of the world.

    <em>These waters could have saved Mom. Saved Dad</em>. Sorrow swelled in my heart when I looked at my reflection on thekes surface. I knew it was all wishful thinking. We didnt know Mom had caught the Purple gue until wed reached the Rivend Federation, by which it was already toote to turn back. And even if we had, crossing a hundred leagues in a wartorn, pestilence-infested country would have been a feat worthy of a Heroes bad.

    At least they helped save <em>someones </em>parents.

    <em>It''s a pity we cant stay here for long</em>. I nced at the rest of our group. Our horses drank along the bank under our guards watch, while the cook stirred oats and quail in a kettle. Soraseo vigntly observed our surroundings from atop a mount, her hand squarely resting on her swords hilt. The royal banner floated in the wind at our camps center. <em>We still have many leagues ahead of us.</em>

    Rnd lent us fifty soldiers for the embassy mission. A handful of lordlings, nobles, and officials also traveled with us. Their names would add weight to our procession and attest to the future kings goodwill, or so I hoped.

    At least I had managed to secure an audience with Walbourgs leadership in their border-fortress of Riverstone. It involved securing safe passage for the reinforcements they sent to the now-besieged Regent through various messages, which caused quite a stir among Rnds entourage. Many of its warhawks argued that we should have ambushed Walbourgs troops as a preemptive strike to retake the region by force. I was starting to understand Rnds issue. Many of his lords simply did not <em>believe </em>in a peaceful resolution.

    It was our job to prove them wrong.

    Local folk believe that if you throw goods into the waters, the Devil of Greed will never return them, I told Marika. If you want to get rid of something, now is the time.

    I wish I could throw my husband into thiske, Marika said with a dark look. She grabbed a waterskin off her belt and started filling it up. But I doubt even the Devil of Greed would take him.

    You cant know until youve tried. My attempt at lightening the mood fell t. Marika stared at thekes waters without answering me. Beni is safe in Snowdrift. You dont need to worry about him.

    Her smile had a sad edge to it. Youre sweet, Robin, but youre wrong. Beni wont be safe so long as Will remains afoot.

    Unfortunately, she was probably right. I knew very well why Marika insisted on joining me on this diplomatic mission. Her husbands golems killed the Druid near Walbourg, so their creator likely hid in the region. Will Costa had cheated on her, threw them into financial turmoil, traumatized his son after nearly murdering him, and then cast his lot in with demons.

    I didnt me Marika for wanting to be a widow.

    I dont <em>want </em>to fear for my son, Robin, Marika said after filling her waterskin. I dont want Beni to live his life looking over his shoulder, wondering whether his father will crawl out of the shadows with a demonic sword and murder on his mind. I dont want people to associate my family with soul-ving golems, Blights, and cursed weapons.

    They wont, I replied, trying to cheer her up. People will remember him as <em>your </em>son, not his. Beni will grow sick of kids telling him his mother conquered the sky.

    This time my joke drew a chuckle out of her. I still cant believe you used the airship for a date. Marika looked at me with a frown. Still no word from Eris?

    I shook my head. Our naughty nun hadnt been seen since she teleported out to check on the new Druid. I admit her absence worried me quite a bit, and not only because I had many questions to ask her. If something happened to her

    I drew the Devil Coin from my purse. The cursed gold glittered in the sunlight. Perhaps I should throw it in theke and let the sacred waters wash it away. Would it even work? Eris told me we could only destroy the coins once we gathered them all, but Id never actually tried another method. I simply <em>assumed </em>that she was telling me the truth.

    Had that been a mistake?

    <em>I shouldnt think like this</em>. <em>If you dont give trust a chance now and then, you can never make true friends. </em>Still, it didnt hurt to verify. <em>Thankfully, I have a curse expert on hand.</em>

    What do you think of this coin, Marika? I asked my friend after lending it to her. Any idea how it works?

    Shouldnt you know better? Youre the Merchant here. Marika raised the Devil Coin to the sun and studied its shine. I took a look at Fenrivos coin, but now Im sure of it. The Devil Coins are gilded.

    Are you telling me the Devil of Greed uses counterfeit currency? The irony of the situation amused me. I am shocked, I tell you.

    Dont be. This coin is worth more than its weight in solid gold. Marikas brows furrowed in contemtion. Its made of soulforged adamantine.

    I chuckled. Nice one, Marika. I rubbed off too much on you.

    Im not joking, Robin.

    I waited for the punchline, and then realized that yes, she was entirely serious. Most would have keptughing at Marika anyway, but I trusted her with my life.

    I bought enough cksmith skills to fully grasp the weight of her statement. A coin of soulforged adamantine would cost more than a kingdoms treasury. Raw adamantine was already the rarest, most expensive ore in the world, even ahead of the purest runestones. Only master smiths had the skills required to work it, and its soulforged alloy required even more steps to forge.

    I take back what I said, the Devil of Greed isnt cheap at all. I stared at the coin in disbelief. How did she forge these? If I remember correctly, you can only create soulforged adamantine alloy in a ce of great power infused with the Artifacts magic.

    Or the Goddess. Most soulforged adamantine goes all the way back to the Age of Wonders, when she still walked the earth. It must have been easier to produce back then. Marika returned the coin to me. Belgoroths sword was made of the same indestructible substance as well.

    Indestructible? I raised an eyebrow. Theres no such thing as the impossible.

    If the Abbey or previous Heroes could destroy these coins, they would have, Marika replied. You can rework soulforged adamantine by filling gaps with normal adamantine ore, but the alloy itself is invulnerable. You could throw that coin into a volcano and watch the mountain spit it out.

    "Even your power can''t affect it?" I asked. "Colmar?"

    "As far as I know, soulforged adamantine is divinely immutable. " Marika shrugged. "If any Hero''s power could destroy these coins, one of our predecessors would have done so."

    Youre the expert here, so Ill take your word for it. I squinted at the coin. I couldnt stand its ghoulish, mocking grin. Still

    I know that face. Marika smiled. You have an idea in mind, Robin?

    More like a theory. I put the Devil Coin back in my purse. Dont you find it strange that the two Demon Ancestors weve faced so far both rely on soulforged adamantine trinkets to enforce their will? The Devil of Greed needs her coins to form demonic contracts, and Belgoroth requires his sword to break out of his prison ording to Florence. It could be nothing, but I find it odd it happened twice.

    Marikas jaw clenched. When Will and I when we tried to work on Belgoroths sword She gulped, her cheeks growing paler. It was like someone had folded a hundred Blights into a needle. The de held so much hate and fury, I cant even put it into words

    Dont force yourself if you dont want to remember. That was clearly a painful memory and I would loathe to reopen old wounds.

    Its its fine. Im over it. It sounded like a lie, but I knew Marika was strong enough to make it true one day. When I worked to reforge it, I had a vision.

    My heartbeat stopped. Of Belgoroth?

    I saw him killing his lover, I think? And burning a city Marika shook her head as if trying to expel that bad memory from her thoughts. So much anger

    Dont force yourself, Iforted her. Her words awakened dark memories of my own. I saw a memory of the Devil of Greed when I tried to seal a soul in a coin, and she was just as awful.

    Marikas head snapped in my direction. You did <em>what</em>?

    Not for myself, I quickly exined. For <em>science</em>.

    I should have known. Marika squinted at me suspiciously. Did it did it work?

    No, thankfully. She continued to give me a strange look, much to my amusement. Im not going to try and buy your soul, Marika. Youre my friend.

    Thats not really reassuring. Marika hesitated a moment before clumsily changing the subject. It is strange that we could both get a glimpse of a Demon Ancestors memories.

    Especially since we used different methods, I said with a short nod. Unlike Belgoroths sword, the coin I used was unrted to the Devil of Greed.

    Eris said Belgoroth had be linked to the concept of wrath itself, Marika pointed out. If thats true for all Demon Ancestors, then maybe we connect with them whenever we tap into raw essence rted to their sins.

    Could be. I wasnt certain we could fully believe Eriss words anymore, but they fell in line with our own observations so far. Sinful essence, soulforged adamantine items, the Demon Ancestors immortality Im sure they all tie into each other somehow.

    Me too. Marika nced at my purse. Lets study your coin further on our way south. Youve beengging behind in your witchcrafting lessons, so itll be an opportunity to catch up.

    I grinned mischievously. You are way too harsh a teacher, <em>mistress</em> Marika.

    Marika lightly punched me in the shoulder. Smartass.

    Afterward, we ended up having cooked quail and a bowl of oats for a meal; a te which surprised Soraseo quite a bit. She tasted her porridge with the grace and restraint of a gourmet discovering a new vor.

    Is it your first time eating quail? Marika asked Soraseo.

    We hunt quail in my homnd, but ours has brown feathers. Soraseo paused for a moment, as if afraid to offend us with her next words. We do not have oats.

    Good for you, I quipped. Your people were spared a terrible fate.

    I am liking the food of Archfrost, but it could use more spice, Soraseo confessed. Like ginger.

    I would add ginger to my food too if I could, but it costs a fortune and the recent embargo on Seukaian goods only caused prices to soar. At this rate, it would be cheaper to buy eastern spices at their source.

    I should visit the Shinkoku sometimes, I mused out loud. The Fire Inds remained at the top of my list of ces to visit once Idpleted my work in Archfrost, but a good merchant traveled to wherever opportunity knocked.

    It is my intention to return after I have visited the Deadgate. Soraseos expression became almost wistful, although her eyes remained distant. You coulde with me, Robin. You too, Marika.

    Why not? Marika replied warmly. She came to Snowdrift for work, so she wasnt all that tied to Archfrost as a country. Itll depend on Beni however. I dont mind traveling, but my son is liking Snowdrift so far. I dont want to uproot him again.

    Beni already spends more time on ships than at school, I replied. Well just have to bring Tehri with us and hell bolt out of Snowdrift in no time.

    Probably, Marika said with a chuckle. I would feel better with the likes of you looking after him, Soraseo.

    I will protect your son, Soraseo said with confidence. You are strong Marika, but if you are having a problem with demons, I will grab the victory.

    I smiled a little. She used these exact words when she decided to join us on the diplomatic mission. Since the Knots would no doubt try to prevent peace between Archfrost and its rebellious province, it made sense for abat-oriented Hero to escort us. Besides, having one of the Knights Vassal sses with us would counterbnce the fact the other worked for Walbourg in peoples eyes.

    Meanwhile, Cortaner decided to stay with Rnd. It would be for the better. Our beloved Knight didnt need a bodyguard; he needed a conscience who could keep on the straight-and-narrow path. Cortaner would not relent in this particr duty.

    I admit it was nice to travel with Marika and Soraseo again. It felt like only yesterday since we climbed onto that Rivend Federation ferry together on our way to Archfrost. So much has happened since.

    After the meal we continued to travel south. Since our group traveled exclusively on horseback, we should reach the Walbourg border in slightly less than a weeks time if we kept a steady pace. Once we did that, we would make a stop at the city of Frostwood, which served as thest buffer between Archfrost and its rebellious province.

    Our journey mostly happened without any noteworthy incident: days of horse riding followed by nights of witchcrafting or swordsmanship practice. However, I noticed thendscape around us slowly changed over time. Thend grew more fertile, its ck soil enriched by slow-moving rivers and warm sunlight. Every ten leagues raised the temperature by a degree, or at least it felt that way to me. Fields of corn, wheat, and barley stretched as far as the eye could see while wild raspberries had taken over old unused roads. We stayed clear of many towns and holdfasts so as not to slow down.

    Its livelier down here, Marika noted.

    Archfrosts south was always richer and more popted than the north, I exined to her. Less militarized too, at least before Walbourg revolted.

    Whereas Archfrosts harsh northern climate reduced its agricultural productivity, its southern territories gentle warmth turned them into the countrys breadbasket. Its hills produced marble, copper, and other precious raw materials. Proximity with Erebia and the Arcadian Freeholds also led to the growth of lucrative foreign trade.

    However, most of the kingdoms tariffs served to fill the armys coffers and secure thends northern border against beastmen invasions. The Walbourg rebellion originally started with a dispute over the burden of taxation before degenerating into a civil war after the Dukes murder.

    I would have to solve these issues if I were to negotiate peace with the kingdoms wayward province.

    Moreover, worrying signs of another problem arose over time: the remains of half-eaten goats left by the wayside near shattered wagons; traces of dried blood near the remains of abandoned campfires; a piece of a w as long as my forearm stuck in a wed tree.

    Monsters lurked nearby.

    Dreadwolf, one of our scouts said upon identifying the w. I suggest we fortify our camp at night, Lord Robin.

    Good call, I replied. Most monsters would stay wary of a group asrge as ours but not a Dreadwolf. Those beasts wererger than elephants, savagely cunning, incredibly vicious, and blessed with the uncanny ability to turn invisible in the dark. The creatures even attacked entire viges when hungry enough.

    I thought Dreadwolves stuck to dense forests, Marika said, slightly worried. What is one doing near the road?

    Because it is easy hunting, Soraseo observed wisely. No one protects the road.

    I nodded in agreement. We should have encountered outriders or patrols by now, but with the gue and civil war, most soldiers are either up north or protecting the southern border. And as they say nature abhors a vacuum.

    It saddened me to see my homnd like this. Monsters preying on roads were the telltale sign of a failed state. If the kingdom couldnt protect its peasants, then they would wonder why they should pay taxes or take thew into their own hands. That kind of situation always led to societal breakdown over time.

    We needed peace and fast.

    We were half a day away from Frostwood when I finally managed to infuse my rapier with wind essence. It required a handful of wind-infused runestones Marika acquired, and a few costly failures, but I eventually managed to transfer their power to my steel under her guidance. I waved my sword on horseback, its de whistling as it cut through the air. The wind blowing through the nearby trees didnt sound half as good.

    Congrattions, Marikaplimented me. We might make a witchcrafter out of you yet.

    Isnt it strange? I wondered. I thought you needed a Second Awakening to manipte air essence?

    You need a Second Awakening to extract elemental essence in its raw, <em>natural </em>form, Marika exined. Try to take essence from the air if you dont believe me.

    When she dared me so politely, how could I refuse her? I raised my hand and let the summer wind blow through my fingers. I attempted to weave the breeze like threads and quickly failed. I struggled to perceive the essence at all.

    My magical sight sharpened with my witchcrafter training. I could detect the flow of essence from physical objects easily, or the parasitic remains of negative emotionstching onto objects where they didnt belong. I could touch the former, and thetter was so out of ce I could easily identify it.

    But how could one seize air in the palm of their hands? Its essence was all around me and yetpletely invisible; like a background noise I had lived all my life with before realizing it existed separately from my subjective reality.

    See what I mean? Marika waved her hand at the oaks along our path. Your eyes can see the trees, but they dont realize something stands in between them. A wall of gas that you can push and blow and inhale, but never grasp.

    I see what you mean. I grabbed the exhausted remains of a wind runestone I used to power my rapier. In that case, I simply had to grasp the essence captured within the piece of rock and push it into my de. Once it is stored in a runestone, it is simply a matter of directing its flow in one direction or another.

    Exactly. Since essence naturally tries totch onto solid matter, elemental essence behaves like any other once extracted and refined. The hard part is to seal energy into a solid form in the first ce.

    Thats why I would need to align my witchcrafting with the Windsword to manipte air essence? I asked, now extremely curious. I realized Id barely scratched the surface of the witchcrafting arts. Because it will let me tell air essence apart from that of solid matter?

    Pretty much, Marika confirmed. Each Artifact is tied to an energy source. The Firewand fuels the sun and mes; the Earthcoin moves thend beneath our feet and creates quakes; the Windsword generates lightning and air currents; and the Seacup controls the tides. Once you align with one of them, you can extract essence rted to that energy, either to manipte it in its rawest form or to store it in runestones for future use.

    It would be nice to create elemental runestones, I said. Not to mention immensely profitable. Have you tried to undergo a Second Awakening yourself?

    You need expensive elixirs and training for that. I never found the time or money. Marika shrugged. If I were to undergo the rite, I guess I would align with the Firewand. It makes the most sense for a smith, dont you think?

    Innovationes from strange and unexplored ces, I countered. If you align with the Windsword, you could start creating wind-swords yourself.

    I would rather create airships, Marika replied with a shrug. They havent killed anyone yet.

    <em>Yet </em>being the keyword in this case. I sheathed my rapier when our group abruptly stopped. I looked at our vanguard. Soraseo rode at our columns head, her mailed hand raised, her head turning towards the sprawling, dense woods along the road.

    Whats happening? Marika asked.

    The trees are watching us, Soraseo replied.

    My hand tightened on my rapiers hilt. Our guards prepared to draw their own swords too, with everyone expecting an ambush. I could only think of a few foes brave enough to attempt such folly in broad daylight.

    Soldiers? I asked, my eyes narrowed in rm. Demons?

    No, Robin. Soraseo stared at the forest. The <em>trees </em>are watching us. They have been for hours.

    I wondered what she meant when I heard a noiseing from the woods. A group of five outriders soon emerged from the forest, led by a bespectacled man in boiled leather armor. Most of them wielded bows, crossbows, and the asional spears. Their equipment belonged to forest guards rather than knights or bandits.

    Wee, Heroes, the leader politely introduced himself. I am Thorn from the Fronan Printing Press. Mr. Fronan warned us of your arrival.

    Fronan? My disbelief swiftly turned to excitement when I recognized the name. Marwen Fronan?

    Wait, isnt that the inventor of the printing press? Marika asked, her eyes alight with shared enthusiasm. Isnt he in the Arcadian Freeholds?

    Hispany bought patches of forests in Archfrost a few years ago, I remembered, my heartbeat hastening. I actually considered approaching them on behalf of the Frostfox Company in the near future. Of course it would be near Frostwood.

    The printing press? Soraseo asked, slightly confused by the term. He presses letters?

    He does far more than that, I said with a childish grin. Hispany pioneered the mass production of books and invented the first newspapers. They made knowledge <em>cheap</em>.

    I considered Marwen Fronan a first-ss entrepreneur; the kind whose inventions and work changed the world for the better. The man probably did more to spread ideas and literacy than any other mortal alive.

    And I might have the opportunity to meet him in the flesh!

    Is he here? I asked Mr. Thorn with all the professionalposure I could muster.

    He is, Mr. Thorn confirmed. I couldnt believe my luck. We operate a lumberyard an hours walk away. Mr. Fronan would like to meet you there, if it pleases you.

    It took all my willpower not to answer positively on the spot. We were on a time-sensitive diplomatic mission after all. My homnds future took priority over a childish dream of mine.

    However, I had another reason to meet with this man. A potentially world-changing one.

    I exchanged a look with my fellow Heroes. Soraseo held my gaze the longest. Do you have the same thought as I, Robin?

    Yes, I do, I replied. The Druid was supposedly killed in this area. If the trees were watching us and Fronan learned of our presence, this could only mean one thing. I turned to face Thorn. Lead the way.

    It would be my honor. Mr. Thorn waved his hand at us and invited us to follow his group into the forest.

    We heard the lumberyard long before we saw it. The rhythmic noise of copsing trees and chisels cutting through wood slowly reverberated among the whistling leaves, alongside the tter of tools and the moans of donkeys. Thick plumes of white smoke arose above the canopy of oaks and pines. A few minutester, we reached thick fences and sharpened spikes unmolested.

    Snowdrift had few lumber yards in its vicinity, but <em>none </em>as big as the one ahead of us. The camp rivaled a beehive in organization and activity. Massive log piles arranged by age, type, and quality littered the camps ground, with the sturdy pines and oaks stripped of their bark by a small army of hardened sawyers. Grizzled lumberjacks in wool coats and leather jerkins sharpened their axes on nks and beams that would support future buildings. Small forges burned adjacent to a set of carpenter workshops, their goods gathered on sturdy carts and boats parked along a small river. The very air carried the smell of sawdust.

    A single anomaly stood out from this organized chaos. A crippled giant of steel sat in the middle of the camp, its broken knees impaled by twin yews. Vines and ivy infested every inch of its thick steel armor, restraining it better than ropes. Roots crawled out of its shattered helmet in a shape that reminded me of a hangmans noose.

    Marika paled at the sight of the wrecked machine and immediately rushed to its side. She had recognized her husbands work.

    Thank the Goddess. Marika sighed in relief after checking the golem. Its been exorcized.

    What is a <em>golem </em>doing here? I immediately asked Mr. Thorn after climbing down from my horse.

    That thing attacked our camp a moon ago, the man replied with a sorrowful look. Stefan took it out. Cost him his life too, sadly.

    It didnt take me long to guess that he was referring to the former Druid. So this was where he perished.

    Marwen Fronan arrived to greet us a few minutester. I had no issues identifying him since he stood out from the gathered lumberjacks. The man looked rather fit for someone in his mid-sixties, with his chiseled beard cut short and his well-groomed gray hair tied into a ponytail. His deep blue eyes shone with uncanny intelligence behind a silver monocle. His elegant velvet doublet, satin gloves, wool pants, and leather shoes reminded me of the Rivend Federation robber barons Id grown ustomed to in Ermeline. Yet I sensed none of their greeding from that man, which didnt surprise me. Marwen Fronan enjoyed a good reputation as a fair-minded visionary.

    It was an honor to meet such a famed inventor and entrepreneur in the flesh. Moreover, he immediately felt familiar, the way all Heroes did.

    Greetings, Mr. Fronan greeted us with a flowery Arcadian ent. He smiled warmly at our group, raised up his pants right seam and unveiled his leg. A silver mark representing a tree glittered on his wrinkled skin, right next to the old Erebian numeral for <em>two</em>. I believe this is how we Heroes introduce ourselves?

    A picture says a thousand words, I replied after showing him my own mark. Soraseo and Marika quickly imitated me. Youre the new Druid.

    In the flesh, Mr. Fronan confirmed after covering his mark. For about half a month now.

    The inventor of the printing press is the Druid. I struggled not tough at the irony. Thats rich.

    No one was more surprised than I, I can assure you. Mr. Fronan scowled at the golem. That abomination killed the better man.

    Marikas expression darkened. What happened?

    My predecessor was this camps woodsmaster, Stefan. A braved and a first-ss worker. Mr. Fronan let out a heavy sigh. He was investigating a case of missing refugees and ran afoul with that machines creator.

    Refugees? I asked while Marika paled like a corpse.

    With the civil war and the gue, many refugees transit through Frostwood on their way to Erebia or the Arcadian Freeholds, Mr. Fronan exined with a grim frown. Criminals use these woods to lure poor fools with promises of secret passages or safe journeys, only to rob them blind or worse.

    Marika nced at the golem with a horrified look. I myself trembled with anger. Witchcrafters required many souls to infuse a golem with life after all.

    The lives that animated the machines among the Regents army had toe from <em>somewhere</em>.

    We can discuss this around a cup of tea. Mr. Fronan quickly shook my hand with a firm grip. As youve already guessed, Im Marwen Fronan, founder of the Fronan Printing Press. You must be Lord Robin, I assume? Mrs. Brra spoke well of you.

    Youve met Eris? My heart skipped a beat. Is she here?

    She left weeks ago, Marwen replied, much to my disappointment. She must be in Walbourg by now.

    There were many reasons why Eris might travel to a rebel province, and none of them were good. Why is that?

    Havent you heard? Marwen cleared his throat. There are rumors saying that the duchys Reformists invited the new Priest to visit them. I assume Lady Alexios fears a schism in the Arcane Abbey and sent Mrs. Brra to handle the situation.

    I heard the words, rehearsed them in my head, and then let out a sigh.

    I could already tell that this diplomatic mission would prove <em>exhausting</em>.

 Chapter Thirty: Seeds of Tomorrow

    Chapter Thirty: Seeds of Tomorrow

    The tree gracefully lowered its branch and poured steaming water into my teacup.

    I watched the scene in silent fascination. The oak was remarkably young and petite enough to fit inside the lodge where Mr. Fronan hosted us. Its roots danced on the floor as it graciously proceeded to serve Marika next. My friend studied the tree with a puzzled expression. No doubt the same questions entered both of our minds.

    I had bought enough forestry-rted skills to know that an oak was <em>physically </em>incapable of moving. Yet here it was contorting its branches in a way that should have wreaked havoc on its bark. Its roots somehow managed to support its shifting weight without earth in which to anchor themselves.

    Mr. Fronans lodge hosted an entire vegetal ballet. The daub-and-wattle hall, built with thick logs and roofed with sod, housed a vibrant menagerie of rose bushes, chamomile flowers, and young pines. Some engaged in the meticulous task of dusting corners, while others waged war against cobwebs that adorned the windows. A few even gathered coal to fuel the firece; a spectacle which I found positively absurd.

    <em>At least one of us isnt too bothered</em>. I nced at Soraseo, who seemedpletely unfazed by this bizarre scenery. She had traded her sword for her biwa and started ying a slow-paced melody. From what I gathered, it was customary to perform a musical performance during tea ceremonies in her homnd.<em> I wonder if we could get a beech tree to y the drum.</em>

    How is this possible? Marika asked Mr. Fronan once the tree waiter finished its service. Her eyes sparkled with fascination. Is this your ss work?

    The Druid ss grants me the ability tomune with and exert control over nt life. Mr. Fronan briefly paused to sip his tea. Furthermore, it bestows upon me the power to imbue them with essence through physical contact. This endows these flowers and trees with a few hours'' worth of autonomy.

    So there is a little part of you in each of these nts? I asked, my gaze shifting towards the window where remnants of the shattered golemy ensnared in vines and ivy. Does your ss also elerate their growth too? I find it hard to believe that your predecessor could have vanquished the golem otherwise.

    You possess keen insight, Mr. Waybright. However, I do not provide the essence myself. Mr. Fronanid a hand on the closest rosebush to showcase his ability. My magical sight picked up essence moving from his mark to the nt, which resulted in five new flowers blooming among its thorns. ording to Mrs. Brra, my mark channels essence from prayers addressed to the Heroes. An almost inexhaustible source of energy.

    Makes sense, Marika murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Providing the essence yourself would have left you on deaths door by now.

    Unfortunately, I am nowhere near as proficient with the mark as Stefan was, Mr. Fronan admitted with a weary sigh. That man could raise the forest itself against his enemies, whereas I find myself challenged with the task of directing mere shrubbery. I can only specte as to why the Druid ss chose to bestow its favor upon me, but I do question its wisdom.

    We all struggled with the same question once, I replied while sipping my tea. I immediately recognized the peppermintced vor of the Stonnds. Strange, I hadnt expected a man of Marwen Fronans stature to prefer this over the more luxurious Seukaian teas, like Mersie. Would you mind sharing how Stefan died with us?

    Mr. Fronan gently ced his teacup back onto the table. As Ive told you before, the ss originally selected Stefan, this lumber yards woodmaster. A just and benevolent soul. I hired him to oversee the growth and nting of new treesa role in which he excelled.

    I havI am surprised, Soraseo said, her fingers pinching her biwas strings the moment she caught her own grammar mistake. I would not expect a lumberjack to be the Druid.

    Stefan opposed expanding the lumber yard long before I saw the wisdom in his stance, Mr. Fronan exined with a nostalgic tone. He sought to preserve this forest from overexploitation. I suppose the Druid ss resonated with his noble quest. His gaze drifted to the firece, his silver monocle reflecting the dancing mes. Are you familiar with the Purple gue?

    All too well, I replied, my teeth clenching on their own. That ghost would haunt me forever.

    Then you must know that it spares the animal kingdom from its depredation. As war and disease wreaked havoc across thend, locals began to discard their dead near the forest.

    Soraseo swiftly grasped the grim implications. Beasts that feed on man will forget to fear them.

    We encountered signs of a Dreadwolf preying on travelers along the nearby road, I informed Mr. Fronan. I assume these two events are connected?

    Partly. Mr. Fronans jaw briefly clenched on its own. I sensed something bothered him, but he thought it best not to mention it. In the final months of his life, Stefan devoted himself to safeguarding the neighboring viges from simr attacks, only to discover that the escting number of disappearances surpassed what the local beasts could perpetrate. From my understanding, he learned that a group abducted refugees transiting through the border.

    The Knots, I deduced swiftly. They figured out that they could operate undetected here, since locals would me the disappearances on monsters.

    Mr. Fronan confirmed my suspicions with a grave nod. The kidnappers brought their victims to a ndestine forge deep within the woods. Many people entered through its doors, and a scarce few left its premises.

    Marika''s expression darkened, her gaze fixed intently upon her tea. The evidence so far pointed to her ex-husband being the responsible party. Those poor refugees probably ended up sacrificed to animate golems.

    I am not privy to every detail of the ensuing events, Mr. Fronan continued, his hand coiling into a fist. I arrived right before tragedy struck and I only witnessed its conclusion. Trees do not make for astute observers.

    Observers? I repeated before remembering Soraseos earlier warning: that the trees were <em>watching </em>us. Wait, how can nts <em>see</em>?

    While nts do not perceive the world as we humans do, they can indeed detect fluctuations in light, air pressure, and scents. Some have even evolved to visualize essence as effectively as any witchcrafter.

    So thats how you sensed our approach. I would never feel safe walking through the woods ever again. How far does your mental control of nts extend?

    It stretches no farther than the reach of my voice, Mr. Fronan answered, his lips curving into a smile. nts do notmunicate through words, but aromas, pollen, and other signals beyond human perception. The trees along the road simply informed their kindred of your arrival, who then ryed the news back to me.

    The potential of his ss left me awe-struck. Mr. Fronan could easily be a terrifying spymaster or assassin if he so desired, even in cities with limited vegetation. I could see his ss limits too, especiallypared to the Ranger to which it answered. Unlike animals, nts required constant essence infusions to move around and their strange senses provided only fragmentary intelligence. I doubt an oak would be as effective as a bear in a fight either.

    One fateful night, Stefan rallied the local militias and raided the ndestine forge under the cover of the darkness. I supposed he thought his power would let him deal with whatever threat it hid in its depths. Mr. Fronan''s voice grew heavy with sorrow. Regrettably, he was mistaken.

    The Knots unleashed the golems they built at the forge, I guessed. Unfortunately, I could picture the raids oue. A single golem was a formidable adversary on its lonesome, and our enemies probably stored an entire squadron''s worth of them at their base at least.

    They possessed six of them in total, Mr. Fronan confirmed. The number caused me to tense up. Stefan suffered a lethal wound during the sh. Survivors quickly evacuated him so he could receive emergency treatment, but one of the golems relentlessly pursued them all the way to the lumber yard.

    Golems dont quit, Marika said, her eyes ring at the machine outside the window. A simr construct chased after her even after losing its head. Their kind does not stop until their target is dead.

    Stefan managed to neutralize it, but sumbed to his injuries shortly after. Mr. Fronan set his empty cup aside. His mark then returned to Lady Alexios before promptly choosing me as its next bearer.

    What happened to the rest of the Knots? I pressed. Since your camp still stands, I assume they didnt give chase.

    Criminals like them are a cowardly lot, Mr. Fronan replied with disdain. The rest of them did not attack the camp, no. I assume they opted for caution once their hideout waspromised and elected to flee instead.

    Flee where? I probed further.

    They split into two factions from what I can tell; one fled west toward the Walbourg border and the other took the eastern road. I dispatched warning missives to the closest cities, but these fiends eluded notice by sticking to the wilderness.

    The second group was almost certainly the one who fought us under Dolganovsmand. They must have linked up with the Regents army. The fact another Knot warband settled in Walbourg rmed me greatly.

    We buried Stefan and the fallen after this confrontation, Mr. Fronan concluded his tale. Mrs. Brra arrived to assess the situation a few hourster. She recorded my ount of the event, gave me suggestions on how to use my ss, and then rmended I wait until other Heroes arrived to help reinforce me.

    It was quite a sad tale; and a somber reminder that we Heroes could fall in battle too. The fact Eris arrived <em>after </em>the disaster at least pointed to her innocence at least.

    I exchanged nces with Marika and Soraseo. Wed all noted the same worrying detail.

    Six golems, Soraseo said once her song reached its conclusion. We destroyed two and the former Druid destroyed one. Three more remain.

    Three too many, I muttered. I didnt like the thought of the Knots fielding three more walking siege engines against us.

    Was there a redhead at the forge? Marika asked sharply.

    Mr. Fronans brow furrowed in bewilderment. A redhead?

    A cksmith. The golem-maker. Marikas tight jaw barely concealed her burgeoning rage. One-eyed.

    I I cannot say, Mr. Fronan apologized. As I said, I was not present on-site and the few survivors provided iplete statements. It was a tumultuous time.

    His answer didnt cate Marika. Then can you lead me to the golem forge?

    You will find nothing of value there, Mr. Fronan warned her. We scoured the ce after the battle. The kidnappers stripped it of everything of value and then quickly vanished into the night. He shook his head. They only left corpses behind.

    I insist. Marikas hand clenched into a fist. She would not relent on the matter. I am a weapon exorcist. I might notice details that escaped you.

    Mr. Fronan did not argue any further. Very well, I shall arrange for Thorn to guide you there.

    You and Soraseo should go investigate the site, see if the Knots left any useful intelligence behind, I suggested to Marika. I would like to discuss the political situation with Mr. Fronan a bit further.

    Sounds like a n to me, Marika replied as she arose from her seat, her eyes burning with determination. We won''t take long.

    I shall be your shadow, Soraseo promised.

    I watched them depart with some apprehension. I couldnt me Marika for wanting to put her past to restin more ways than onebut I couldnt shake the feeling she might act too impulsively. We couldnt prove too cautious when facing demons.

    What do you know of the Priests uing visit to Walbourg? I questioned Mr. Fronan once we were alone with his ntpanions.

    Not much besides what I have already shared with you, Mr. Fronan admitted. Walbourg and the Arcadian Freeholds have long been a stronghold of Reformist sentiments. Recent rumors that the current Priest shares their doctrine emboldened the movement. I usually abstain frommenting on politics, but we might soon witness the western branch of the Arcane Abbey seceding from the same body.

    A situation fraught with peril. While I sympathized with Reformist ideals, religious conflicts had a notorious tendency to escte into the bloody kind. Another war would only serve to empower Belgoroth further.

    I would bet my entirepany that the Knots infiltrated the Reformist movement, either directly or through sleeper agents. Mersie already warned me that the Knot of Pride specialized in subverting authorities from within. It would make sense for them to encourage any initiative that would weaken the Arcane Abbey.

    Which meant the Priests life was very much in danger.

    When will the Priest visit Walbourg? I asked Mr. Fronan.

    I do not know. She might very well be there as we speak.

    Then we have no time to waste. Knowing the Knots, they would probably take a shot at her or thwart any attempts at a diplomatic resolution to the Reformist schism. What do you n to do, Mr. Fronan?

    Mr. Fronan smiled warmly. I nned to return to the Arcadian Freeholds and meet with the Ranger. I have amassed quite a few contacts in Walbourg, so I might be able to assist in your diplomatic efforts as well.

    The Ranger? Oh right, Cortaner mentioned that they were active in the west. They operate in the Arcadian Freeholds?

    Her name is stride. She is Mr. Fronans smile strained. Quite the formidable character. She all but controls the city of Ironpit now.

    Ironpit If memory served, that name belonged to arge city in the Arcadian Freeholds famous for hosting Pangealsrgest arena. Many adventurers, warriors, and monster-tamers flocked there to seek fortune and acim.

    I also noticed an interesting pattern in how sses were assigned. The Mage was in the Stonnds, the Ranger in the Arcadian Freeholds, the Bard in the Fire Inds, the Knight would rule Archfrost, the Priest moved from Erebia to Walbourg, and ording to Eris, the Rogue worked in the Everbright Empire. While Archfrost was my homnd, I also received the Merchant mark in the Rivend Federation. It seemed that the Seven Great sses each chose a representative from a distinct major nation.

    A different Demon Ancestor probably also held sway in each of these territories.

    I would be honored to travel with you, Mr. Fronan, I said from the bottom of my heart. Ive always dreamed of meeting an entrepreneur of your stature.

    Ah. The old man smiled kindly at me. Your words are too kind, young man. I do not warrant such praise.

    No need for false modesty, I chided him gently. Your work has changed the very course of history. I wouldnt even have learned to read without the books you distributed, and you founded one of Pangeals most prestigiouspanies. You <em>do </em>deserve my praise.

    Mr. Fronan shifted uneasily in his seat. I consider myself an inventor first and a merchant second, Mr. Waybright. I never intended to be rich when I invented the printing press. I am no different from those explorers in the Stonnds who dug around and identally struck a vein of gold.

    You still invested that gold wisely. It astonished me that a man of his colossal sess maintained such a humble disposition. It was a refreshing surprise. I have noticed a very interesting detail about how you set up your lumber yard. You concentrated all steps of the woodworking process in one ce, from lumber extraction to carpentry. I assume this helps you streamline expenses and sell goods on the cheap.

    You have a keen eye formerce. However, while cost reduction was indeed a factor, I mostly sought to reduce waste. Paper printing remains our primary business, but it does not require an entire tree. To my mind Mr. Fronan paused to gently scratch a nearby rose bush. I half-expected it to purr in response, and found myself disappointed when it did not. It feels disrespectful to fell a living being and leave the remains to waste.

    This man wasted nothing and tried to make the best use of all resources avable. I liked his way of thinking.

    Has Eris informed you that we opened apany to help develop Snowdrift? I asked him. Would you be interested in coborating with us? Between your ss and the <em>Fronan Printing Press</em> reach, we could achieve great things together. Open presses in the north, replicate Archfrosts rare tomes for widespread distribution

    You are very kind, Mr. Waybright, but I must respectfully refuse. Mr. Fronan shook his head, his expression resolute. I have decided to retire.

    <em>Retire</em>? I gasped in shock. Of all the words Id expected toe out of such a famous merchants mouth, retirement wasnt one of them. It seemed almost anathema to our vocation. But you seem to be in excellent shape, and yourpany is thriving!

    I already have more money than I could ever spend, and found a greater cause to devote my energy to. A scowl passed over Mr. Fronans face. You said you came across signs of a Dreadwolf preying on the road. I I must confess a degree of responsibility for these attacks.

    I frowned in confusion before quickly catching on. Has the lumber yard disturbed the beast?

    Indeed. Mr. Fronan removed his monocle and meticulously cleaned it with a handkerchief. When I invented the printing press, the worlds appetite for wood grew exponentially. There were barely eight million books in cirction before I opened the Fronan Printing Press. Two decadester, that number has increased to two hundred million. We should reach a billion by the next century. And these are books alone. Newspapers spread like wildfire.

    His dilemma became apparent to me. To make paper, one needed to fell trees in great numbers. The primeval and monster-infested forests of Archfrost and the Arcadian Freeholds provided plenty of it. Supply struggled to meet ever-increasing demand.

    Any moderately skilled witchcrafter can create their own automated press now, but much like forges require metal, these machines require a steady supply of resources to sustain their output, Mr. Fronan exined. Paper has moved from a scarce luxury to an abundantmodity. Before I knew it, I had turned the forests near my home into barren wastnds.

    And by destroying these forests, you dislodged its original inhabitants, I guessed. Monsters with shrinking territories started to encroach on human settlements to find food.

    At first, I paid it little heed. I was bringing the torch of knowledge to millions, so who cared about the woods? It was only when I noticed a direct corrtion between monster attacks on frontier settlements and my lumber yards expansion that I realized Id blood on my hands.

    You couldnt anticipate it, Mr. Fronan, I countered. I doubt <em>anyone </em>could imagine the impact of the printing press.

    Mayhaps, but I ought to have noticed the trend sooner. The absence of malice does not excuse ack of foresight. Mr. Fronan put his monocle back on. The truth is, young man, I came to this site to curtail its growth. The Fronan Printing Press will not open more lumber yards. Instead, I n to reinvest its profits in the acquisition and restoration of foresnds, safeguarding the wilderness from those who would strip it bare.

    That is audable goal, Mr. Fronan, but you cannot cure a disease by only treating its symptoms, I argued. Even if you stop the Fronan Printing Press activities, so long as demand for paper remains high, otherpanies will supply it. nting trees and protecting certain forests might blunt the wood industrys excesses, but it wont halt them.

    His intentions were praiseworthy, yet his approach struck me as awfully naive. Money was the lever that moved the world. So long as there was profit to make in cutting down trees, <em>someone </em>would wield the ax.

    Your best bet is to design a substitute for paper, I suggested. A cheaper or more useful book material that wouldpelpanies to make the switch.

    We think along the same lines. Mr. Fronan rose from his seat and beckoned me to follow. Come with me, young man.

    I dutifully followed Mr. Fronan to the back of the hall. We then climbed down exquisitely carveddders leading to an underground cer. The ce immediately reminded me of Colmarsboratory. An acrid metallic smell hung in the air and oily stains marred the polished parquet. Bookcases rested along the walls alongside a te board covered in chalk-scribed notes. A pair of work tables covered in witchcrafter equipment upied most of the room alongside shelves filled to the brim with runestones, powder, and oilmps providing a measure of light.

    I couldnt suppress my curiosity. Few men ever had the privilege of stepping into one of Marwen Fronansboratories, and I immediately exploited the opportunity to look around. The Druids trinket collection included runestones charged with all elemental affinities, tin horns, a water-powered music box, and various drums collected from cultures as varied as the Fire Inds or the Shinkoku.

    My curiosity drew a chuckle from Mr. Fronan. Ive always had countless ideas running through my mind since my distant childhood, he shared. Now that I am wealthy, I can afford the material to bring them to life.

    I began to notice a pattern among Mr. Fronans collection. A cursory nce at the notes scribbled on the te board confirmed my suspicions.

    You are trying to iste specific sounds from wind essence, I said with palpable fascination. How to iste specific vibrations in the air.

    Mr. Fronans brows arose ever so slightly. Impressive deduction. You are a man of many talents, Mr. Waybright.

    I have many customers and Marikas witchcrafter training to thank for that. None of the skills Id picked up yet could match the depths of Mr. Fronans knowledge, but they at least allowed me to understand his work. I think Im getting the hang of it. You seek to capture sound as an alternative to recording information in written form.

    Seek? Mr. Fronan grabbed a green runestone off his work table. I have already found a way.

    I paid a closer look to Mr. Fronans trinket. My magical sight immediately picked up the highly-refined wind essence suffusing it, alongside barely discernible inscriptions adorning its surface.

    Windstones are among the mostmon elemental runestones, Mr. Fronan exined. Armies use them to empower their war horns or their weapons. City leaders do the same with their voices during public addresses. Shippingpanies that can afford them conjure a breeze to push their sails forward.

    And sound is no more than the movement of air, like the wind. My eyes widened. Mr. Fronan, did you

    Precisely. Mr. Fronan started channeling essence from his fingertips directly into the windstone. Watch and listen.

    I did so, and to my surprise, Mr. Fronans voice echoed from inside the runestone.

    <em>I have discovered a new application for this material,</em> the voice said, while the real Druid remained silent.<em> I have pioneered a technique that will permanently record voices and sounds inside a windstone. I shall christen it the soundstone.</em>

    Mr. Fronan stopped channeling essence through the stone, instantly causing it to fall dormant. By altering a windstone, I have found a way to both record ones words inside it and cause the runestone to articte them, he exined. A witchcrafters intervention is necessary to activate the runestone, but I am currently developing a mechanical alternative.

    Absolutely captivating, I muttered, utterly mesmerized. This invention was a majorndmark in runestone research. Can it store a books worth of information?

    A book and an entire library, Mr. Fronan said with warmughter. Do not be too enthusiastic, young man. This prototype has many ws.

    Can you listen back to the beginning? I asked as a myriad of questions flooded my mind. Can you iste a piece of information from the rest? Does it possess its own table of contents?

    Once a soundstone is activated, you must let the entire content run its course, Mr. Fronan said, much to my disappointment. I can add new voices and words to its content, but I confess tracking down a specific record is currently impossible.

    Well, like all new inventions, it will take time to refine it. The first thought that crossed my mind when confronted with limits was how I could ovee them. This remains an amazing invention.

    I admire your optimism, Mr. Fronan said, his voice wavering. I thought these soundstones could be a substitute for paper too, once.

    Thought? I frowned upon noting his use of past tense.

    I have encountered even more practical difficulties.

    I stroked my chin as I considered this new technologys groundbreaking implications. Besides the ws Mr. Fronan already mentioned earlier, I could see a few barriers on its way to mass production. You need both runestones and a talented witchcrafter capable of infusing them with wind essence to create a soundstone.

    Which substantially intes the production costs. Mr. Fronan set his soundstone back on his work table. Market price for raw runestones has recently settled at a silver coin per pound. However, employing a witchcrafter skilled enough to instill the requisite essence esctes the soundstone''s production cost to a gold coin.

    And that was without taking the cost of recording particr information, since the merchant would need to hire storytellers to ry a books contents to the soundstone. I quickly ran the numbers in my head.

    Which means that to make a profit, youll need to sell your soundstone at a minimum of two gold coins after taking other expenses into ount, I noted. Thats quite pricey.

    And exorbitantly expensive when pitted against books, Mr. Fronan confirmed. The use of windstones is mostly reserved for our societys elites, and it is the general popce that propels the demand for paper. My invention simply cannotpete with the old one where it matters most.

    Not immediately, I conceded, But in the long run, your invention <em>will </em>greatly decrease book demand.

    Mr. Fronan adopted a posture of contemtion, crossing his arms. In what way?

    As a specific product bes popr and profitable, more and morepanies will start to enter its market, I said. Aspetition increases, suppliers must start to cut down prices to remain attractive. If your soundstones be popr, itll grow cheaper and eventuallypete with books.

    There was also anotherpelling limit to book sales: not everyone could read.

    Besides, arge part of mankind remains illiterate, I pointed out. The printing press helped spread knowledge to the merchant and urban sses, but most of the peasant poption couldnt tell a written word from another. Your soundstones would help spread knowledge to these unfortunate souls.

    Thats apelling argument, yet I find it wed in two ways. Mr. Fronan held up a finger to emphasize his point. First of all, there is currently no known method to either produce synthetic runestones or infuse them with wind essence without resorting to the exorbitant services of expensive witchcrafters. There is a ceiling to how much optimization can achieve.

    Producing a book once used to take years of work by an expert copyist, I countered. Im sure most people thought the best way to cut down prices was to bring in more manpower. The idea of a printing press probably never entered their minds, and yet you proved them wrong.

    Ah! Mr. Fronan let out a chuckle. So, you are suggesting that mankind simply hasnt stumbled upon a cheap way to extract and refine soundstones <em>yet</em>? Quite the interesting approach to my problem, I must concede.

    Theres no problem too great for the human mind to ovee. I remained convinced of it. Your invention holds more potential than you imagine, Mr. Fronan.

    While a method to quickly produce windstones for a low cost may exist, it has yet to be discovered, Mr. Fronan replied before raising another finger. Which brings me to my second issue with your reasoning. Namely, there are no incentives to produce cheaper soundstones when books can fulfill the same function with more economical and readily avable materials.

    Then you should start by developing soundstone applications that a book cannot replicate. I could already think of many. Can a book hold a song? You can note a partition that an experienced musician might replicate, but can themon man y it in his head? Can a book instantly record a statement from a famous savants own mouth? Take the example of newspapers. What if instead of buying a paper piece individually, a voice disclosed the same information to a crowd?

    I have no doubt that a shrewd merchant like yourself could profit from marketing my invention, Mr. Fronan said, his smile tinged with amusement. However, I do not want a product that will entertain the wealthy. I want a product that can reduce mankinds dependency on wood and paper.

    I say your invention can do both, I fervently insisted. The more we discussed it, the more I could smell the scent ofmerce in the air. This invention held such promise it would be criminal to let it gather dust in a basement. Mr. Fronan would you sell me the licensing rights to your soundstones?

    Curiosity and skepticism warred in Mr. Fronans wise gaze. Licensing rights?

    You may not believe in your own invention, but <em>I </em>do. The number of potential applications boggled the mind. Im sure I can make it a marketable product that will eventuallypete with books. It could change the world the way your printing press did.

    I am not certain you could call that an argument in its favor, Mr. Fronan pondered.

    But you <em>are </em>proud of the good your printing press aplished, I pointed out. You said it yourself, you didnt invent the printing press to get rich. You invented it to further the cause of human knowledge. You more than seeded in your quest and soundstones will let us push the bounds of human ingenuity even farther.

    At no point did Mr. Fronanin about inventing the printing press; only in how the greed and appetite of man caused forests to shrink because of his invention. He sought to amend his legacy, not topletely deny it.

    Mr. Fronans eyes narrowed slightly. I could tell that he was meticulously considering all the possible oues of my offer; pondering whether I could fulfill my promise, discerning if I was merely an opportunist coveting more money, and contemting if soundstones might produce their own unforeseenplications. So far I had given him a good first impression and I knew he wouldnt think much of outsourcing a project hed intended to shelve anyway. I only needed to show my willingness to write down a fair deal to secure his agreement.

    How about we use part of the inventions profits to fund your forest conservation efforts? I proposed to clinch the deal, and then swiftly delivered the final blow. You need money to buy woond patches. At least these funds wouldnte from the very industry that encourages their exploitation.

    Mr. Fronan chuckled. Fair point.

    <em>Ive got this.</em>

    I remain skeptical that the soundstone canpete with books, and I believe you are overlooking many details, Mr. Fronan said after some thoughtful consideration. However only a fool would bet against the Merchant when ites to matters ofmerce.

    What can I say? I am an optimist. I smiled ear to ear. Will you ept my terms?

    We would need to sign a contract first, of course. Mr. Fronan offered me his hand. Ive heard that your ability makes terms binding.

    In a way. I swiftly shook his hand. I wont disappoint you, sir.

    Id the feeling that this would be the start of a beautiful coboration.

    By the time Marika and Soraseo returned from their errand, Mr. Fronan and I had hashed out a five-page contract; which we recorded both in written and soundstone form for posteritys sake.

    The stiptions were clear and straightforward. The Fronan Printing Press agreed to license soundstones to the Frostfox Company, sharing their production methodology and intellectual property in return for a fifth of the profits; those would go to <em>Fronan Printing Press</em> forest conservation fund. It was a general deal insofar as my ownpany would support all the costs, expenses, and development efforts.

    In truth, I wondered if we even needed windstones at all. Humans could produce words without it and a music box sang a song through mechanical interactions. The true breakthrough in Mr. Fronans worky in his technique to record words in essence form, rather than in the runestone medium itself. I was confident we might improve on his method with my power and those of my allies.

    And most importantly, I could <em>sell </em>this device. I knew it. It would take a long time to iron out its ws, but deep within my bones, I felt history knocking on my door. This invention could change the world for the better.

    <em>Well, this has been a productive afternoon</em>, I reflected as Mr. Fronan and I watched Marika and Soraseo return to the lodge. Marikas dark scowl of fury sent a chill down my spine. Id never seen her so furious. <em>For all of us.</em>

    Will was there, Robin. The venom in Marikas voice would frighten a viper. Im sure of it. His essence was all over the forge.

    The time hade to settle old scores.

    He must be with the Walbourg group then, I said. Knowing the Knot of Wrath, theyre probably hoping to either push Walbourg into an open conflict with Archfrost or encourage a violent schism between the Reformists and the Arcane Abbey.

    They wont hide for long. Marika smiled at Mr. Fronan. With your assistance, I am sure we can find them easily enough.

    I will do my best to assist, Mr. Fronan responded with courtesy. However, my abilities are considerably more constrained in an urban environmentpared to woond regions.

    Im not sure well even need your assistance on this particr issue, I said. If I had to wager a guess, I dont think Will is hiding at all.

    Golems are big, Soraseo noted. An elephant cannot hide in a bush.

    Exactly, I find it difficult to imagine authorities missing three steel giants entering their territory without some degree of collusion, I said. Remember that the Regents army agreed to deploy golems as a countermeasure against Heroes. Since Walbourg only has the Cavalier while our side can field half a dozen sses, I would assume its leadership would seek to bolster their own forces.

    Marika frowned in disbelief. The Cavalier stands with Walbourg. A Hero would never consent to work with demons.

    Will probably lied about his demonic allegiances, but Im sure he benefits from allies in the Walbourg government unaware of his true nature. Id already assumed the Knots infiltrated the region since the start of the civil war. The first thing well do in Walbourg is to contact the Cavalier, the Priest, and Eris, if shes still there.

    We are stronger together, Soraseo agreed to my proposal. The others offered nods of assent, and our path was set.

    We would soon meet friends old and new.

    I could only hope we could trust them all.

 Chapter Thirty-One: The Duchess of Walbourg

    Chapter Thirty-One: The Duchess of Walbourg

    Walbourgs border was but a stone''s throw away.

    Of all the south-wests fortress cities, few inspired as much respect as Riverstone. Watching its curtain walls rising beside the river under the rising sun was a humbling experience; each of its soaring towers were asrge as Snowdrifts ck Keep. The scorpions and ballistas atop the battlements appeared no bigger than toys.

    Riverstone was built atop a rocky bluff overlooking the Starstream River. It ran swift and deep, so much so that it offered little to no crossing points. A great dam of smooth gray stone wide enough to let five wagons travel on its surface at once linked the main city to a castle on our side of the river, a smaller fortress with deep moats, a strong barbican, and portcullis.

    Walbourg owed its name to Wal the Willful, a past Ranger who helped defend Archfrost from arge beastmen invasion and obtainednd in return. He famously summoned the beasts of thend to help raise his new duchys cities. Riverstone had been one of his first works. Ironically, the fortress had originally been constructed to help defend Archfrost from southwestern attacks; now it stood as Walbourgs main line of defense against its former homnd. Countless times did Archfrosts forces crash against its walls only to be pushed back.

    <em>Walbourg has bolstered the towns defenses</em>. I studied the banners sprouting along the moat atop army pavilions. I assumed they were the retreating reinforcements falling back to the duchy. Riverstones bridge could only allow so many people to cross it at once. One banner, however, stood out from the rest. <em>A wolf-rider under a crescent moon could it be</em>

    The Moonlight Riders, Marika confirmed at my side. We had set up camp atop a nearby hill, offering us a splendid view of the area. I recognize the symbol. My old viges lord hired them to deal with bandits a few years ago.

    What impression did they give? I asked her. The Moonlight Riders were a famous mercenarypanydoubly so since their leader became the new Cavalierbut Id never encountered them personally.

    They were good customers, Marika replied. Professional and disciplined too.

    I could see that. Rows of sharpened stakes protected the pavilions perimeter. Many would call it an excessive measure considering how close they were to their main fortress, but caution never killed anyone. Moreover, I noticed winged creatures running circles in the sky. Great lizards with brownish scales and wings stretching from the end of their forearms. Armored cavaliers with spears and bows rode on their backs thanks to chained harnesses.

    Wyvern riders.

    They were umon in these parts. Wyverns mostly made their home in Erebias mountains or the Fire Inds volcanos. Unlike pegasi, they possessed a vicious and unruly disposition that made them difficult to tame. Few armies could afford to field a squadron of them, let alone mercenaries.

    So the tales were true, Duchess Griselda did give the Cavalier and her troopsmand of Riverstone, I muttered to myself. Good. This would be an opportunity to make contact with Rnds wayward Vassal Hero before anything else. Youve exchanged letters with her, havent you?

    A few. Marika let out a shrug. I mostly tried to convince her to meet with us, since we Heroes are better off not fighting each other.

    Hopefully, shell have listened to you. I smirked. Or else we will have to build our own bridge.

    Shouldnt be too hard, Marika replied with a chuckle. She had grown used to my jokes by now. Should we announce our presence?

    The wyvern riders should have already noticed us. Since they havent sent any emissaries, theyre likely waiting for us to present ourselves first. I nced at our camp. Mr. Fronans power let us raise shacks of intertwined trees and moats of thorns in an instant. Is Soraseo back from her morning hunt yet?

    Im not sure Marika looked around the hill and suddenly gasped in surprise. Over there!

    I coughed when I saw our friend returning to camp on horseback and trailing a gruesome hunting trophy: the pony-sized head of a giant white furred wolf with fearsome, sword-shaped fangs and a pitch ck mane. Soraseo beamed with pride at her quarry. Her crimson armor was drenched in blood, none of it her own.

    I earned the victory, Soraseo dered with an air of finality.

    When she said she would go out looking for food, I expected her to return with a deer, not a <em>dreadwolfs </em>head. Considering our current location, it was likely the same creature that preyed on the main road.

    You are a beast, I told Soraseo once she presented her trophy to Marika and me. The dreadwolf was a juvenile maleadult females were farrgerwith jaws capable of snapping a man in two, and Soraseo still slew it on her own. A cursory look at the beasts wound indicated our Monk had decapitated it in a single swing. An absolute beast.

    Soraseo frowned at me. I am confused by your statement, Robin. I am no beastwoman.

    It was apliment, Marika replied. She knelt to study the dreadwolfs fangs, whistling all the while. I could craft good weapons from these.

    Its an impressive catch, Iplimented Soraseo. How did you track it down? Dreadwolves are supposed to be invisible in the dark, and the sun has just started rising.

    I did not see it, Soraseo exined. I saw the air move and the grass bend under its paws. She lightly knocked the beasts skull with a smile. The dreadwolfs red-rimmed yellow eyes still red at us in death. The beast tried to eat my horse and tasted my steel instead.

    I wondered if she would bring us a demons head one morning. It would make for a nice surprise to go along with the breakfast.

    Do you want to keep any parts of it, Soraseo? Marika inquired, her eyes alight with interest. After Soraseo shook her head, our beloved Artisan swiftly turned to me. Want some? Dibs on the fangs.

    Theyre sharp enough, but its the fur that interests me most, I replied. Do you think you could fashion a hooded cloak from it, Marika?

    Oh, thats right, it would turn you invisible in the dark. Marika chuckled to herself. I could use my power to craft one, yes. Maybe boots and gloves too.

    I always hoped to buy an invisibility cloak one day. The good ones cost a fortune.

    <em>Wait, do I need a cloak at all?</em> A stray thought crossed my mind as I studied the dreadwolf head.<em> Soraseo currently owns the head and the rest of the body, or at least she should.</em>

    Soraseo, would you mind running an experiment with me? I asked my friend after grabbing a silver coin from my pouch. I would like to purchase the dreadwolfs left eye.

    I would give it for free, Soraseo replied with a frown, but she agreed to y along nheless. I ept your offer.

    As I expected, the dreadwolfs eye teleported out of the severed head and moved into my palm. The enormous organ weighed heavier than stone.

    Experiments taught me that I could not sell a fraction of an object with my power, like half of a gold coin. However, my power allowed the transaction of divisible parts such as a bodys limbs and organs. This trade confirmed that Soraseo owned the head as far as my power was concerned.

    Now for the real test, I said after putting the eye back in its ce and grabbing a second silver coin. Soraseo, I would like to buy the Dreadwolfs nightly invisibility power.

    You wish to buy the fur? Soraseo asked.

    No. I want to buy the furs magic, not the fur itself. Both Marika and Soraseo frowned at me, so I quickly provided exnations. I do not remember attempting to separate a conceptual element from a physical object. Or at least never one with supernatural features. It should be possible in theory, since I can separate strength or skills from a living being.

    So you could buy a steel shields solidity or a wood pieces flexibility? Marika asked. That would be incredible, if its possible.

    If being the keyword there.

    I shall sell you the wolfs invisibility for a silver coin, Soraseo said, taking the money from my hand. My mark glowed and it teleported my silver coin back into my palm. My Merchant ss voided the deal. It did not work.

    Thats strange, Marikamented. A dreadwolfs natural invisibility is no different from a skill. So why cant you take it?

    It confused me too. Considering my power worked ording tomon perception, maybe it was deemed that Soraseo didnt own that particr feature? I quickly thought of another test to check.

    I grabbed a windstone from my pooch; Mr. Fronan sold a few of them to me so I could practice soundstone crafting.

    I will sell you the wind essence held within this windstone and a silver coin as a package deal for the dreadwolfs right eye, I told Soraseo. However, I will only sell you the wind essence, not the runestone containing it.

    As you wish, Soraseo replied without hesitation.

    My power validated the transaction this time. The green-colored windstone turned pale as snow as the essence within moved to the silver coin. The metal whistled and sang in Soraseos palm, the magic within producing a faint breeze around it for about five seconds before it crumbled into dust. A burst of wind erupted from its remains and carried the silver specks away.

    Seems a coin cant hold a runestones worth of essence, I said, slightly sad at losing the silver. I get it now;

    Why did it work this time? Marika asked, very much surprised. Theres nothing more conceptual than essence. If you were limited to trading physical objects, it shouldnt have moved around.

    Do you remember how I failed to buy a fraction of a gold coin the first time we met? I asked her. I believe the same phenomenon is at y here. My power considers that Soraseo owns the pelt <em>as a whole</em>, and the invisibility feature is one of the elements that constitute it.

    But your runestone held the wind essence, Soraseo said with a confused look on her face. Why could it be split out?

    Because the wind essence is a separate element that was grafted on the runestone itself, Marika guessed. When Robin transported supplies for the army, his contracts had to explicitly mention that he was buying a chest and all of its contents, otherwise his power would only transport the container. A runestone is no different from a bottle; it simply holds essence rather than be a part of it.

    Which means I <em>can </em>buy and sell conceptual elements of an object, so long as they were either grafted on it or if my power considers them as individual parts that can be split away, I said. The same way an eye can be removed from a skull, or a gear from a clock. Both can still be considered separate objects rather than parts of a single thing.

    Marikaughed heartily. Would that mean you could buy a dreadwolfs invisibility from the beast itself, since they own all parts of themselves?

    I should go find the Ranger and ask her to broker a deal, I joked. A final test, Soraseo. I would like to buy the silver essence from your silver coin for that eye you just sold me. Not the wind essence, mind you, the silver essence alone.

    My power refused the trade this time as I knew it would. If I bought silver essence from a silver coin, the coin would stop being, well, a silver coin. I failed to buy its solidity and flexibility too in separate attempts.

    I allowed myself a sigh of relief. My n for Archfrost involved shifting Blights around by buying them; since they were curses ced on an area, my power should treat them no differently from the wind essence filling my runestone. I managed to shift nutrients from one area to another back in Snowdrift because they are physical matter separate from the soil, so it should work. Moreover, it meant I could potentially shift skills Id sealed into objects around, since they were separate conceptual elements grafted onto them.

    However, the wind coins fate showed me a ratherrge issue with Blight acquisition: namely that physical matter could only hold so much essence. Runestones were precious because they could both hold vast quantities of it and adapt to its various strains. A Blight was a colossal quantity of negative essencerge enough to stain an entire region; so much that cleaning one usually required enormous quantities of runestones and years of positive essence treatment.

    <em>I can buy a Blight and seal it in an object, but its container wont contain it for long. </em>No wonder there werent tales of previous Merchants cleaning them up with ease. Maybe they tried, only for the curse to break its designated seal almost immediately. <em>Our best bet is to follow Colmars n: use my power to transfer Blights into a single location, then destroy them with specifically charged runestones.</em>

    Thinking of Colmar, I wondered if I could move his soul into another container.<em></em>Undeath had turned my friend into a ghost haunting his own suit. My power should treat Colmars soul the same way it dealt with essence sealed in a runestone. Such a trade would trigger my ss safety features, but its an interesting thought.

    Please dont try to transfer essence into yourself, Robin, Marika warned me. She pointed at the dreadwolfs sword-shaped fangs. Dreadwolves originally began as normal wolves infused with essence by witchcrafters hoping to create warbeasts. At best youll grow wings; at worst youll shatter like your coin.

    Would swallowing too much wind essence make me an airhead? I joked.

    Marika let out a loud groan at my terrible pun, while Soraseo smiled ear to ear. Oh, wind and air! Our Monk said, very happy with herself. I understood the joke!

    We shared a goodugh over it, then split our treasure. Marika agreed to use the dreadwolfs parts to craft enchanted tools for us all and should have everything ready by the evening. Our troop soon rode toward Riverstone with a full belly and a clear purpose.

    Greetings, my friends, Mr. Fronan said as he joined us atop a brown workhorse. He had been thest of us to wake up, and the ck rings around his eyes suggested he still hadnt slept enough. My apologies for theteness.

    Soraseo took care of your dreadwolf problem, I informed him. Nothing better than start a new day with good news.

    Truly? Mr. Fronan looked at Soraseo with great interest. Impressive feat. You have my thanks.

    You are wee? Soraseo asked. I nodded at her, which filled her with relief. You are wee, Lord Druid.

    What kept you up sote Mr. Fronan? I asked him. You look exhausted.

    I usually burn the midnight oil, he replied, and Lady Marikas ns for an airship kept me up thinking all night long.

    How did you find them? Marika immediately asked with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. She shared my respect for the old inventor.

    It is an incredible discovery, a <em>world-changing</em> discovery. These wyverns will soon have to share the sky with us. Mr. Fronan stroked his chin. However, the current design greatly limits how much weight your device can carry.

    Its one of the hurdles were struggling with, I confirmed. So far weve only managed to lift a small boats worth of passengers.

    I believe switching the balloons current design to an oval shape would help ovee that limitation, Mr. Fronan suggested. You see, my experiments with windstones taught me that air pushes back against objects. A streamlined oval shape will allow air to flow smoothly over the surface and thus minimize resistance; this design is also inherently strong and stable, enough to withstand internal pressure. Moreover, this shape will give more volume for hot air to fill, and thus increase the weight it can carry.

    I am not certain I understand everything, Marika replied. But how can we maintain an oval shape? When hot air fills our balloons, it always defaults to a spherical shape.

    We can implement a framework, Mr. Fronan suggested. Circr frames bound to longitudinal girders that run from one side of the airship to the other. Thebination will form attice structure that is both light and strong.

    I see, Marika said while I partly struggled to understand his point. Like a sea going ship.

    Exactly, Mr. Fronan confirmed. The frames creation would require the use of specialized essence-infused metal, but it would let us increase the airships size, structural integrity, and operational range.

    Producing that framework would greatly inte the production costs, I mused out loud, But if it allows us to transport a ships weight of cargo, we could quickly cover the expenses.

    You live up to your reputation, Lord Fronan, Marikaplimented our Druid.

    You tter me, the man replied politely. This is all a theory for now. Experience has taught me that putting theory into practice presents its own set of challenges.

    Oveing them is half the fun, I replied. I believe in airships as much as soundstones.

    Besides the technologysmercial applications, an armed airship might prove to be decisive in our conflict with the Lord of War. His beastman army wouldnt achieve much against an enemy capable of bombarding them from the clouds above.

    These would be considerations forter, however; the Moonlight Riders camp soon stretched before us. Tents stood in rows behind a deep ditch filled with stakes. Sentries with crossbows stared at us from under pping battle standards and sounded a horn at our approach.

    That banner Soraseo muttered to herself.

    Is something wrong? I asked her.

    That moon banner feels familiar to me, Soraseo replied with a deep scowl. I have seen it somewhere

    A great shadow passed over us before I could press her for details. I looked up to take my first glimpse of the Cavalier.

    Whereas her soldiers were satisfied with mere wyverns, the Moonlight Ridersmander rode a farrger creature. A majestic bird the size of a house flew above us, its burning wings leaving a trail of embers in its wake. Its light blue feathers glittered like the hottest of mes except on the head, whose plumage followed a red and orange pattern. The avian let out a mighty screech that startled our horses, unveiling rows of sharp fangs hidden inside its beak. Arge serpentine tail wagged at its back.

    A firehawk.

    The beastnded near the camps entrance, its mere touch burning the tips of the grass under its feet. My poor Mudkeep nearly threw me off her back and forced me to pet her head to calm her down. I could hardly me her. The birds talons were wide enough to lift a full grown warhorse and carry it away, and it possessed a second set of ws in the middle of its wingspan.

    The birds rider was no less fearsome. Captain Verni of the Moonlight Riders was a middle-aged woman wearing armor ck as night and a gilded dragon helmet on her head. While she didnt seem remarkable at first look, with short raven hair, ck eyes, and amon face, her stern gaze betrayed her iron heart. Her eyes were not cold like ice, no, but sharp like a knife. A silver mark was visible between her eyes: a stylized wheel holding a hoof at its core alongside the Erebian numeral for <em>seven</em>.

    The Cavalier stared at each of us, well past the point it became ufortable, though her gaze lingered on Soraseo the longest. Her fierce countenance reminded me so much of ire. But whereas my friend was like steel, strong yet flexible, this woman was cold as stone. She was not to be trifled with.

    Still, I knew how to work with her kind: by not wasting their time.

    Greetings, Captain Verni, I introduced us courteously. I am Robin Waybright, the current Merchant and Prince Rnds envoy. Mypanions are the Druid, the Monk, and the Artisan. Wevee to pay with your employer.

    I know who you are, the Cavalier replied with a deep voice and a curt nod. She stared at Soraseo with rapt attention, then put a hand on her chest and bowed in respect. It is an honor to meet you again, Princess Mizukiya.

    Soraseo tensed up like a bowstring and became still as stone. Marika and I both nced at her, the former a bit more surprised than me. I had long figured Soraseo was a noble of some kind from her military expertise and education. However, her rank left me speechless.

    Princess? Marika repeated, gobsmacked.

    You did not know? Verni asked, a furrow of confusion showing between her brows. You ride with the Blood Blossom, first princess of the Shinkoku Empire.

    <em>First princess</em>. The Shinkoku Empire was one of the worlds mightiest nations, and women could inherit the throne as well as men. <em>Shes not in ires league; shes in </em><em><strong>Rnds</strong></em><em>.</em>

    Soraseos jaw clenched. I could tell she briefly hesitated about denying it, but she had grown to trust us enough not to lie to our faces.

    I am a princess no longer, Soraseo dered, her eyes looking away. Not since

    Ah, Verni said. So the rumors of your banishment were true. Tis a shame.

    Soraseo scowled at the Cavalier. I do not remember you.

    My squadron served under Lord Oboro three years ago during the siege of Hwajing. I didnt lead the Moonlight Riders back then, but we briefly fought side-by-side. The more Verni spoke, the more Soraseos expression darkened. I cant me you for trying to forget that disaster. Twas a mistake.

    No, Soraseo replied grimly. It was a crime.

    Verni shrugged and did not push the subject further. Soraseo fell into sorrowful silence. While Marika clearly wanted to probe Soraseo about her past, I dissuaded her with a nce. I could recognize an open wound when I saw one.

    My employer awaits you inside the first castle, Lord Waybright, said Captain Verni. I ask that youe alone, though you may bring a bodyguard.

    Soraseo wille with me, I said immediately. She alone was worth more than a hundred guards.

    Youre sure? Marika asked me, before leaning in to whisper in my ear. I know you and Soraseo can handle yourself, but the Knots might try something.

    I believe we have little to fear for now, I reassured her. Harming envoys and diplomats was pretty much a universal taboo. If anything happens to us under the banner of peace, Griselda will lose all credibility on the international stage and give Rnd an iron-d excuse to march on Walbourg. It is in her interest to secure our safety for now.

    Duchess Griselda managed to keep hernds independent from Archfrost for nearly a decade and a half. I doubted a political actor of her caliber would be rash enough to try to challenge a group of Heroes. At worst, she would try to turn us down or win us over to her cause.

    After negotiating food and shelter for my troopa request Verni assented tothe Moonlight Riders leader climbed down from her firehawk and led us inside Riverstones first fortress. Soraseo kept her hand on her swords hilt at all times. Neither did Verni surrender her spear, even after we passed the gates.

    A few minutester, I walked through ckwood doors and inside a small council room in the depths of the keep. A woman matching Duchess Griseldas description awaited me at the end of a longtable, nked by two guards.

    Walbourgs mistress carried herself with a graceful yet imposing presence. Her admirers called her the most beautiful woman in the world, and while I wouldnt go that far, she was indeed quite the lovely sight, with serene sea-green eyes, long hair with a soft rose hue, and delicate features. Her lovely smile was too warm to be genuine though.

    Her choice of clothes told me much about her too. Archfrostian nobles usually prided themselves on sober dresses, but Duchess Griseldas sumptuous dark blue garment and delicatece borrowed more from the Everbright Empire nobility or Rivend Federation merchant princes. I also detected traces of magic in the feathered epaulets cascading down from her shoulders and the turquoise diadem on her forehead.

    Three words came to mind when I first saw her: queenly, refined, and dangerous. A dagger cloaked in silk. Unlike with Verni, I immediately decided a courteous approach would work best.

    Lady Griselda, I said as I kissed the gold ring on her hand. Tales of your beauty do not do you justice.

    Those speaking of your wily tongue certainly do, Lord Merchant, the duchess replied with a melodious chuckle. Clearly, she had done her research too. Please, continue to tter me.

    I would need to know you more to find the rightpliments, I replied lightly. I mustmend you on your choice of dress. I havent seen a sea silk dress since I left the Rivend Federation.

    Duchess Griselda gave me a quizzical look as she invited me to sit at the other end of the table. I am surprised you could tell at first nce. You must have frequented the Rivend nobility with assiduity.

    I did, once upon a time. I sat on a ratherfortable leather chair with a good amount of feathered cushions. Soraseo loomed behind me, the same way Verni took position behind her mistress. While I thank you for your hospitality, I expected to meet with you in Walbourg rather than a border fortress.

    This meeting will determine whether or not your delegation will reach my citadel at all, the duchess replied. I would delight in hosting Heroes, but I do not wish to waste time with powerless envoys or worse, spies.

    <em>Going for the throat already? </em>If I were a spy, I would have gone through your window instead of the front door.

    Some used grappling hooks to climb my castles walls once, Griselda mused. My jape drew a smile from her, though it did not reach her eyes. I do appreciate that Prince Rnd sent a delegation rather than an army. I expected a more forceful response to my ill-advised support of his uncle.

    I must admit I wonder what you were thinking, I replied. Surely you must have realized that backing the Knight in a war was the winning proposition.

    Not for me. The Regent was the only one offering to recognize my duchys independence, whereas his nephew made no mystery of his intentions. I know Rnd will march on Walbourg as soon as he ascends to the throne.

    I smiled. Then why did he send me?

    To ask for our unconditional surrender, I suppose, the duchess replied with the same yful tone. I hope to be wrong. He did send the Merchant rather than the Inquisitor, so I assume we can at least exchange pleasantries before he besieges my home.

    Whether or not Archfrost besieges you is entirely up to you, mdy.

    The duchess eyes narrowed dangerously. So you do not deny Prince Rnd considers invading Walbourg.

    The option is on the table, I replied bluntly. I would like to resolve this peacefully, but if we fail to findmon ground, you will find yourself facing the Knight rather than the Merchant. And you will lose.

    Prince Rnds father said he would take back Walbourg in a moons turn, the duchess replied with tranquil confidence. He perished in front of this castles walls and we have held the line for fifteen years since.

    King Chernov could not split open stone walls with a swing of his sword, nor did he benefit from the Everbright Empires support. If the marriage with Therese went through at least. While you have a Hero on your side, Rnd can field many more than you.

    Verni scoffed behind her mistress, but did notment on my boast.

    This may be true, Duchess Griselda said before resting her head on her hand. But only so long as your group leaves the border.

    I sensed Soraseo tense at my side and answered the veiled threat with a serene smile. I would suggest against trying to kill us, I warned the duchess. You will fail.

    I suggested nothing of the sort, the duchess replied with aplomb. A good Merchant should always listen topeting offers, should you not?

    A better Merchant stays true to his word and employers, I countered. But you can indeed give me a better offer. You can choose to have Walbourg reintegrate into Archfrost peacefully.

    A difficult decision to swallow. Duchess Griselda joined her hands together. His father murdered my husband, and many of my followers perished

    I dont care, I said.

    My words took the wind out of the duchess sails. What?

    I dont care, I repeated. If Rnds father indeed killed your husband, then he got what he deserved over a decade ago when he perished under your walls. Prince Rnd had nothing to do with these events.

    He is his fathers son and carries his grudge.

    Rnd was three years old when your husband was assassinated, I countered. Unless you think a toddler can arrange a murder?

    I had taken Griselda aback. Of course not

    I dont care which side of this dispute has the moral high ground, I interrupted her, pressing her advantage. I am here to find apromise that will avoid yet another bloody war and thousands of pointless deaths. Rnd sent me to negotiate because hes willing to let bygones be bygones for his kingdoms sake. If youre half the ruler you pretend to be, Lady Griselda, then you will behave the same.

    The duchess studied me carefully. Her tone was noticeably harshened from how it was before. I preferred it when you ttered me.

    And I preferred it when you did not sling veiled threats at me or my allies, I replied with the same tone. Ill be blunt. Do you <em>want </em>peace? If not, then we can stop wasting each others time.

    I would rather settle on a peaceful resolution, the duchess conceded. However, our issues with Archfrost run deeper than what happened to myte husband. Until they are resolved, I do not see how we be one nation again.

    I studied her face carefully. Are you familiar with the Knots?

    I am, the duchess replied; something which only half-surprised me. The organization subtly supported Walbourg through intermediaries soon after my husbands death.

    By providing golems? I asked coldly.

    Among other things, the duchess confirmed. They believe we do not know of their existence. They officially act under the guise of some radical Reformist sects and revolutionary groups, but we are aware of their true allegiances. We simply havent been able to purge them yet; not with Archfrost threatening us.

    Demons are worse than any other threat, Soraseo said sternly. She red at Verni. You should know better.

    Verni shrugged. Keep your friends close and your enemy closer. Well wipe them out in due time.

    Do not misunderstand me, Lord Merchant, Lady Monk, I understand perfectly what kind of danger demon worshipers represent, Griselda defended herself. However, between the need to maintain internal peace in the face of Archfrost might, the Purple gue, and the tensions between the Reformists and the Arcane Abbey, I simply could not marshall all my resources into purging their influence. I do not think I can fully focus on them until we achieve peace with Archfrost.

    If you know of the Knots, then you should be aware of how they operate, I said. Their acts always follow the same ybook: they set different parties against each other, then profit from the conflict.

    You imply that they staged my husbands murder. Griselda shook her head. I can assure you that it is not the case.

    How so? I pushed, deeply skeptical.

    Do you take me for a fool? I have done extensive research on the circumstances of my husbands death. The truth is that the Knots only became involved after his murder in an attempt to profit from it. They stumbled upon a crisis and quickly seized their opportunity. The duchess sighed sorrowfully. Unfortunately Lord Merchant, not all crimes aremitted by demons.

    I remain doubtful, I replied. I needed more time to investigate. However, if we were to achieve peace, would you do your utmost to wipe the Knots out?

    Yes, without hesitation, she confirmed. It is partly why I supported the Regent. With peace at my borders, I could mobilize troops and resources into hunting down demonic cults. For now, I can only allocate a fraction of my duchys might to this particr case.

    So far so good. What are those issues that keep Walbourg in open rebellion?

    Those have not changed in fifteen years. The duchess smiled thinly. My husband and other southern lords first formed an alliance against King Chernovs rule over taxes. Archfrosts southern territories are its richest and most developednds, yet we have always bore a greater burden when it came to finances than the northern lords.

    These same lords are the first line of defense against beastmen invasions, I pointed out. The king reduces their taxes in exchange for their military service.

    And still, does he not expect us to send our sons and daughters to fight for them when required? We might be less exposed and take more time to mobilize, but we always answered the call to arms. The duchess did not wait for my response. The truth is simpler, Lord Merchant. The royal family has always favored the northern lords that fuel the core of his army and surround his capital, so our voices went unheard.

    Hence your husband decided to stop paying his taxes in protest, I said, having studied the subject.

    King Chernov tried to woo me beforehand, and I denied his advances, Griselda added. I suppose he ordered my husbands murder to get him out of his way, both politically and romantically. The king thought his death would strangle our movement in the crib.

    Instead you took up your husbands cause and sessfully repelled the old kings attempts to bring you to your knees, I replied. At a great cost of lives and wealth.

    Some things are worth dying for, Lord Merchant. As a Hero, I am sure you understand it well.

    I do, I conceded. So, from what Ive gathered, you want fairer treatment and equal taxation with the northern lords?

    We are well past beyond matters of wealth and finances, Lord Merchant, Griselda replied. The capital and the northern lords still do not respect us. Their attempts to enforce our submission through force prove it. We southern lords prefer trade and diplomacy, but Archfrost only respects strength. Moreover, we favor the Reformist faith while Prince Rnds divine right to rule derives its legitimacy from the Arcane Abbeys support.

    Hence why Rnd sent <em>me </em>to smooth over your differences. From our discussion, I was already seeing ways to proceed. You want respect. To be heard. Prince Rnd can give you a voice in his government when he ascends to the throne.

    Even if he does, which I sincerely doubt, it wont be long before his sessors go back on their word. The duchess mouth tightened. The way the kingdom is set up naturally strengthens the northern lords influence. Many times has a king shown us favor in the past. It neversted.

    I was thinking of a more I stroked my chin, letting the silence float between us for added effect. <em>Institutional</em> solution.

    Duchess Griselda was an excellent diplomat, but I had be excellent at reading subtle body cues. I saw the light of surprise in her eyes, the subtle scowl of skepticism, the slight hints of doubt.

    The northern lords will never ept a reform, she said. Not to mention Prince Rnd.

    The lords will agree to a reform if they benefit from it too. Now that I had a foot in the fortified door, it was time to bring out the ram. You are a wise woman, Lady Griselda. You must see the historic opportunity before your eyes. The new ruler of Archfrost is the <em>Knight</em>, the most chivalrous of all Heroes. You are dealing with the only king in the world <em>guaranteed </em>to put themon good above his own.

    Mayhaps, she conceded. But Rnd has no child yet. If he dies, the crown will go to his more traditionalist uncle Sigismund. He will put a halt to any reform in a heartbeat. We dont have <em>any </em>guarantee any of Rnds heirs would stay true to his word.

    True, trust is a fickle thing. I joined my fingers. Thats why humans invented contracts.

    Duchess Griselda gave me a searching look. What do you have in mind, Lord Merchant?

    Prince Rnd gave me authorization to broker a deal with Walbourg, I reminded her. As the Merchant, the contracts I write are invible. My power <em>will </em>enforce an agreement. If you are worried about war, I can easily sell you the monarchys ability to wage war on Walbourg as well as Walbourgs right to wage war on the royal house. This will bind you and your sessors.

    Such a contract would probably require a lot of uses to work, but I believed my power could allow it. While it couldnt force actions as they included a risk of failure, it could deny the contracted the ability to act in a certain way, like lying.

    Here is my proposition, I said. I will hear you and your followers grievances and suggestions, then exchange with Rnd to broker a peace treaty. He wont budge on everything, but he is reasonable Most of the time. and I am confident I can secure his agreement if you also agree topromise. Then I can draft a contract reform for all of you to sign and which my power will enforce.

    I held her gaze.

    A social contract, I concluded.

    The duchess considered my proposal for a very, very long moment. I had guessed her answer before she opened her mouth.

    You are a bold soul, Lord Merchant, Duchess Griselda said with a spark of amusement. Would you and yourpanions consider apanying me to Walbourg? I am thinking of summoning a conve of all the southern lords.

    Only if you pay for our travel expenses, I joked.

    When sheughed back, I knew I had won this round.

 Commerce Emperor going to Kindle in March (Pre-order up) + Future of the story

    Commerce Emperor going to Kindle in March (Pre-order up) + Future of the story

    Hi fellow Merchants!

    I thought about putting those big news insidest chapter''s post, but I figured it would be easier to just post a post here.

    <strong>Commerce Emperor going to KU on March 2nd. </strong>

    The first and most important new is that after long deliberations, I have decided to put the novel on Kindle Unlimited/Audible in partnership with Aethon and we''ve stopped on a date: March 2nd.

    My original n was to publish the whole Archfrost arc as a single volume, but due to the longer chapters I guess we would have ended with a giant 400K behemoth. It seemed easier for my publisher and I to simply split it in two. Henceforth, this first volume of <em>Commerce Emperor</em> will cover the <em><strong>prologue and first neen chapters</strong></em> of the story (so all the way to the battle with Florence and Chastel).

    I suppose everyone reading this post already has progressed that far a long time ago, but I''m issuing a warning. Unfortunately, as per KU exclusivity rules I will have to remove those early chapters around two weeks before the official release; so likely around <strong>February 21st</strong>. I''ll move that post early to inform people starting with the story.

    Here''s the Amazon link for those who are interested (audible link should be up shortly):

    Link: /amazon/B0CRF8V452

    As always, I would be super grateful to anyone sharing word of the story''s release on Amazon. It''s very much be my breadwinner and the main reason why I can keep posting my stories for free on Royal Road, even for a limited time.

    <strong>Pause after the Archfrost arc''s conclusion</strong>

    The second is that I''m very likely to take a few months'' pause off <em>Commerce Emperor</em> after the end of the Archfrost Arc (which should end around <strong>chapter forty-five</strong> ording to my estimations). The reason is twofold:

    - first, I wish to recenter the story on Merchant adventures and travels over the current war focus of the Archfrost arc''s second half, which I feel isn''t really hitting the novel''s core strengths; I feel I kinda prefer smaller scaled adventures focusing onmerce, travel, and building up wealth over the current epic war direction and I need to rework the plot a bit after concluding the current storyline.

    - and second, there''s only a limited set of hours in a day and I want to take some time to write some scifi and/oredy. Long-time followers will know that thetter keepsing back like an itch that just won''t go away.

    As usual, I''ll keep posting chapters on RR even after the arc hits its end on Patreon, so you won''t go months not knowing how the arc ends. Don''t worry ;)

    In any case, I hope you''ve enjoyed the story so far, and I hope the Archfrost''s arc conclusion will satisfy you.

    Best regards,

    Voidy.

 Chapter Thirty-Two: The Gilded Truth

    Chapter Thirty-Two: The Gilded Truth

    .r186f13050cbd436f8a918f565defb624{ disy: none; }

    I walked out of my meeting with three different concessions: a letter of safe conduct signed by the Duchess herself, which granted our delegation free passage through all of Walbourgs territories; Griseldas promise to hold an Estates-General assembly in three weeks time; and a renewed hope in the future.

    The Estates-General? Marika asked me once she and the rest of the delegation were finally allowed through Riverstones gates. Duchess Griselda lent us a room for us Heroes to meet in, the Cavalier included. Whats that?

    A very old Archfrostian assembly representing the three branches of the kingdoms society: the religious orders, the nobility, and everyone else, I exined. Walbourg created their own version when they seceded.

    Archfrosts Estates-General was little more than an advisory body with no real power. Previous kings only summoned them three times in the kingdoms history. Walbourg, however, turned it into a true parliament that gathered once a year to settle internal disputes. It was this assembly that first dered the Duchys independence from Archfrost on the civil wars onset.

    Duchess Griselda will summon them in an extraordinary session to decide on a treaty with Archfrost, if any, I continued. It shall be held in three weeks time, once every dignitary has made the journey. Coincidentally, the Reformist Council should take ce roughly at the same time.

    Walbourg will be a busy ce during that period, Mr. Fronanmented. Especially if the Priest does indeed make an appearance.

    She will, I confirmed. ording to Duchess Griselda, she is already in Walbourg.

    Soraseos hand tightened on her swords hilt. Our enemies will strike both events.

    Naturally, I replied with a sharp nod. A treaty with Archfrost will not serve the Lord of Wraths aims, nor will a peaceful resolution to the Reformist crisis. The Knots will do their best to sabotage both.

    They will fail, Captain Verni dered with confidence. Lady Griselda granted me the authority to organize the security for both events. No cultist will escape my sight, I can assure you.

    And we will do our best to help. I smiled at our Cavalier. If Walbourg releases you from service after forming a peace treaty, you can always knock on my door.

    You are pulling your cart ahead of the ox, Lord Merchant, she replied with an amused snort. First bring peace to thesends and then well talk.

    I chuckled to myself. I could never turn down a bet like that. Challenge epted.

    Marika crossed her arms. Any news about Will and the golems?

    Yes. I turned to Verni. Duchess Griselda said you let a group with three golems travel through Riverstone a week ago.

    I did, she confirmed. ording to their papers, they weremissioned by Count Stalh of Clearwater in order to help secure our southern border against a potential Everbright Empire invasion. We suspected him of coborating with the Knots for quite some time, but denying this group passage might have resulted in Riverstone being breached, so we let them go.

    Marika tensed like a bowstring. Was there a one-eyed redhead among them?

    Yes, Verni confirmed. Marikas eyes immediately filled with quiet anger. You have a grudge to settle with that one?

    You could say that, Marika replied dryly. Where is Clearwater?

    It is a small town south of the Duchy, I exined before calming down Marikas ardors. Griselda gave us leeway to pursue our own investigation on saidnds under Vernis supervision.

    Which means that you dont confront the Knots until I say so. Our Cavalier looked at Marika. Understood?

    Marikas jaw clenched. Thest time I met that man, he helped set a vige on fire and nearly killed o<em>my</em> son. I cant let him escape again.

    He wont, but we will apprehend him and his cohorts when we are ready. Verni held Marikas gaze without flinching. If you dont behave, Lady Griselda will have your letter of safe conduct revoked. Dont fight me on this one.

    We dont intend to, I quickly said before quickly supporting Marika, who did not like this oue one bit. But I agree with my friend. We should seize the initiative while we still can.

    We have three weeks before the summit, Verni replied with a shrug. Well get your man.

    Three weeks are a long time to wait for, Soraseo said. The Lord of Wrath may march from the north before then.

    I shook my head. On the contrary, I think our foes will only make a move after the two congresses. Striking beforehand would risk uniting the factions against Belgoroth, so they will try to organize further conflict to divide us first. I bet theyll try to assassinate us orunch a terror attack like the one Florencemanded back in Snowdrift.

    We wont let things get that far, Verni dered with a smug smile. Mdy runs a tight ship when ites to hernds; tighter than the Knight.

    <em>Not tight enough to prevent demonic rats from climbing onboard</em>, I thought. A remark I kept to myself.

    Half of an ambassadors job involved knowing when to shut up.

    ----

    A three-day ride and two military checkpointster, our delegation finally reached its final destination: the city of Walbourg.

    For a while, I thought we had taken the wrong turn and found ourselves wandering back to the Rivend Federation. The further we progressed inside the duchys hearnd, the more we left behind Archfrosts ins and mountains for woonds and streams. The main roads were maintained and duly patrolleda far cry from what we had seen on the other side of the borderwith no hints of monster activity.

    Walbourg itself proved just as impressive. I knew it used to be Archfrosts secondrgest city back when it still belonged to the kingdom, many timesrger than Snowdrift, but it seemed to have made good use of its fifteen years of quasi-autonomy. I could see the various steps of its development in its architecture.

    Built at a confluence of rivers, Walbourg was split into two halves: the old town, a crescendo of cobblestones standing on an impregnable ind; and its suburbs, a set of new districts encroaching on the woonds around it. The former area housed the citys famed cathedral, a towering marvel of marble spires and arched colored windows that we could see from leagues away, and the Duchess own castle.

    However, for all of the old citys history and importance, it was the forested suburbs that impressed me the most. Hordes of workers toiled on unfinished houses lined up near walls of wood and patches of pine trees, not all of them humans; I saw flying birdkin deliver packs of straw to ratkinpleting a small homes thatched roof. We rode past bustling markets brimming with the scent of fresh produce and the call of merchants calling for clients in Arcadian, Archfrostian, Rivendian, Everbrightian, and even Erebian. The whole ce <em>breathed </em>activity.

    In short, I immediately felt right at home.

    I see someone is happy, Marika mused as we rode through the organized chaos, the Duchess guards forming a security cordon around us. The citys people didnt yet know of our identities, but word of the Heroesing would no doubt spread quickly in the near future. We could visit the marketster.

    We will do more than visit, I replied with giddiness. Aw, how Id missed the sweet scent ofmerce in the air. Well peddle our wares.

    While Id worked tirelessly on helping Snowdrift bounce back from its depressing spiral into poverty, the city was still far from amercial hub. Opportunities were scarce and all resources were directed towards repairing public infrastructure.

    Meanwhile, Walbourg clearly had nothing to envy from the merchant ports of the Rivend Federation. Id learned long ago that the number of tongues spoken in a citys markets was a good indicator of its prosperity. The fact I heard five of them meant traders from all of western Pangeal came here to do business. I was bound to stumble upon good deals.

    I admit Im surprised to see so many foreign merchants, I informed Verni. I knew the Duchy was richer than northern Archfrost, but I thought other nations did not recognize its independence.

    They dont, Verni conceded. But since Walbourg stands between Archfrost and the Arcadian Freeholds, southern nations have no choice but to pass through the Duchy if they want to domerce with the kingdom. The other way is through the Erebian mountains or by sea.

    I see, I replied. As always, politics bent to cold, harsh economic realities. I assume theck of royal taxes paid to Archfrost also loosened the pressure on those same traders purses.

    Youre the Merchant. You know best.

    This prosperity exined why Walbourg was in no hurry to rejoin the rest of Archfrost: the Duchy could do well on its own so long as they kept the northern border secure. This mightplicate the treatys signing.

    Meanwhile, Mr. Fronan appeared less than impressed with what we saw. Our Druid looked at the newly built houses with sorrow. It didnt take me long to realize that since he could understand nts, riding so close to deforested areas probably seemed like waltzing through a cemetery.

    Can you turn off your power? I asked him with slight concern.

    I wish I could. Mr. Fronan did his best to avert his eyes from the pines and flowers along the road. I have heard of monks in the east who refuse to eat meat because they do not wish to kill animals. I wonder how many people would do the same if they could understand the beasts we consume.

    Maybe, I replied. It wouldnt surprise me if the Ranger had be a vegetarian after gaining her power.

    After traveling through the suburbs we crossed a bridge of white stones and entered the old town proper. Its streets were far better organized than the more chaotic new districts, and far less active. The air carried the scent of old books rather than pines. Cobblestones covered every speck of ground, while the houses were a tapestry of brick estates, white marble temples, and red sandstone fortifications.

    Griselda graciously agreed to lend us Heroes a walled mansion near her home until the Generals-Estate; a home so close to the cathedral that we could hear its bells. A dozen guards protected its iron gates and the red brick courtyard behind them. A fountain adorned by finely trimmed edges and statues of the Four Artifacts stood before the mansions sturdy brick facade. It was quite the beautiful ce, if ostentatious.

    <em>Too </em>ostentatious.

    After climbing down from Mudkeep, I noticed Soraseo studying the ce with the sharp, thoughtful gaze of an experienced warrior. She was already considering how to establish a defensive perimeter.

    What do you think of this humble estate? I asked her.

    Easy to find but difficult to attack. Her distaste clearly showed on her face. The iron gates are too quick to She quickly caught herself. Too easy to climb. I would trade them for stone walls.

    I concurred. Marika and I can build a few more on short notice.

    An attack? Mr. Fronan frowned in confusion. Who would be mad enough to attack a fortified mansion in the middle of a city?

    <em>Chastel was, when he massacred Mersies family</em>. Thinking of her name alone filled my heart with mncholy. <em>I wonder if she managed to track her target down.</em>

    What the Knot of Wrathcks in subtlety, Mr. Fronan, they more than make up for in fearlessness and brutality, I said. The men who helped kill your predecessor belonged to that branch of the organization. I wouldnt mind if you could, say, nt a few ivy spies around the perimeter.

    I see. Mr. Fronan nced at the hedges with interest. I intended to stay at mypanys local office rather than this mansion, but if you need my assistance, I will do my best to help you.

    Only Verni wouldnt be sticking with us. Lady Griselda ordered me to assure her protection until the Generals-Estate, so I must stay at her side, she warned us. I will lend you a hundred men for your protection, and I shall fly to your aide if need be. She chuckled to herself. Though I do not think you will need any with Princess Mizukiya by your side.

    Soraseo shifted ufortably in ce. Please call me Soraseo.

    As you wish, Verni replied respectfully. I suppose someone of your rank would want to travel unnoticed.

    Soraseo did not answer. From the look on her face, I suspected she didnt wish to travel incognito as much as she disliked being reminded of what she had lost or the crime she med herself formitting.

    Perhaps I should use our time in Walbourg to encourage her to open up. I tried to give her her own space in the hopes that she woulde out of her shell on her own, but I was beginning to think she might need a little coaxing.

    After a short tour of the manors grounds the servants helped us settle inside. Our newir proved as luxurious on the inside as it was on the outside, its corridors carpeted with soft Arcadian rugs and decorated with ebony wood. I ascended spiraling staircases and walked under the bright light of golden chandeliers until I reached my personal sr on the third floor. The living room alone matched the size of ires council room.

    Will milord require anything? A butler asked me after cing my belongings on the ground.

    Quills and paper, please, I replied. I had the feeling that I would be writing many letters this month. You may leave me for now.

    The butler excused himself with a short bow and closed the door behind me, leaving me alone in my new apartment. I quickly set out to take a look around. I had to admit that Duchess Griselda did not do things halfway. The bed wasrge enough for three, the study was staffed to the brim with rare books, and the wardrobe would shame a Rivend noble.

    Then I found her sitting behind a table near the balcony.

    Surprise! Eris greeted me with a smile.

    I knew my favorite nun was in the city, but I admit I didnt expect to see her <em>here</em>. For a brief second, I found myself standing in ce as I considered how to react.

    Whats wrong, handsome? Has the sight of me left you speechless? Eris winked at me. I didnt remember you being so lovestruck with me.

    Her mischievous smile was meant to reassure me. It did the opposite. Now that I recalled Daltias smirk, I could no longer deny the uncanny resemnce between these two. The eye and hair color didnt match, but the facial features

    Eris raised an eyebrow. Whats wrong, Robin?

    Im sulking, I replied yfully as I sat in front of her. Now that the surprise had passed, I managed to hide my thoughts behind a facade ofposure. I knew we agreed on nothing serious, but it has been weeks since youst visited me.

    Aww, did you miss me? Eris let out a small sigh. The feeling is mutual. s, I am swamped with worktely.

    That sounded halfway right. Her eyes did show dark rings. I looked at the table and noticed that she had poured us cups of a strange ck liquid I did not recognize.

    What is this? I asked after smelling the fumes from it. It doesnt look like tea.

    A gift I brought back from a short trip to Irem. Since you treated me so well on ourst date, I thought I should surprise you back. She waved a hand at my cup. Come on, try.

    I briefly wondered if the drink was poisoned, but if Eris wanted me dead she could simply teleport to my side in my sleep and slit my throat open. She could have thrown me from the airship on ourst date. She could have done a thousand things and never did.

    <em>Cortaner and Mersie have rubbed off on me too much</em>. I sipped the drink, a bitter vor overwhelming my tongue. It wasnt tea, far from it, but it wasnt unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all.

    Whats this drinks name? I asked after taking another sip.

    Kahve, though most merchants sell it as <em>coffee</em>, Eris exined. Its not too popr outside Irem yet, but I predict it will overtake tea now that the Seukaian embargo is causing prices to rise.

    I looked at the drink. I did feel a strange jolt of energy course through me when I consumed it. I didnt take you for the kind of woman to keep an eye onmercial trends.

    I would be a poor Wanderer if I didnt. Eris looked at the courtyard beyond the window. My balcony offered us a splendid view of the city and its suburbs. Between the tensions between Irem and the Fire Inds, the Reformist summit, the Druid dying on us, Archfrost, and the Shinkoku, I dont have time for myself anymore. I keep teleporting from one side of the continent to the other.

    I chuckled. Youre here, arent you?

    Because I <em>made </em>my own time, she replied with a mischievous smirk. I couldnt stay in the same city as my favorite Merchant without visiting him once.

    I appreciate the thought. I myself intended to visit her in due time. I guessed it would help us save time. Mr. Fronan said you spoke very well of me.

    Has he? Between us, I preferred his predecessor. The older a man grows, the nder he bes.

    I believe people call it wising up, I mused.

    Some never do. Eris let out a shrug. Anyway, my dear Robin, how have things been on your side? Saved any princesstely?

    Soraseo had called Eris a master actor. Either she was so good I couldnt tell a lie from the truth, or she was indeedpletely clueless. I decided to y along for now.

    We failed to apprehend the Knot of Greeds leader and stop another Blight, I confessed. But Rnd is poised to retake the capital. We might avert a new civil war.

    Thats good. We cant afford another conflict right now, and <em>I </em>definitely cant afford more work. Eris crossed her legs. Who led the Knot of Greed?

    I held her gaze without letting anything through. Rnds squire.

    Ouch. Eris winced. Poor boy. As far as misery goes, he stands only behind Cortaner. I should go visit both.

    I wouldnt go anywhere near Cortaner, I said. He thinks youve betrayed us by delivering a Devil Coin to our enemies.

    I realized a long time ago that people reveal their true selves when under pressure. Much like how good architects subjected their constructions to stress tests in order to check if they would hold, delivering the right push could throw someone off-bnce enough to exploit it.

    Eris simplyughed. Ah, Corty. A man so paranoid that he often stumbles on the truth while chasing ghosts. Her brows furrowed slightly. Dont tell me you believe him?

    I shrugged andid my trap. Someone with our power could easily teleport a coin around with the right contract.

    True. Put it in a purse and Eris smile faltered when she realized she had stepped on a snare. <em>Our</em> power?

    I held her gaze, my face a pleasant mask, my heart a drum pounding in my chest. Eris remained silent, her hands around her cup. You could cut the tension between us with a knife.

    I am way too out of practice, Eris said upon breaking the silence. Or maybe youre getting better at it?

    Could be both, I said before putting Dolganovs Devil Coin on the table. The vile demonic skull on the surface red at Eris. Did youe to take <em>this </em>back?

    I came to see <em>you</em>, Robin. Eris nced at the coin with disinterest. As far as gifts go, Ive seen prettier ones.

    Its yours if you want it. Though Im not sure you could call it a gift. Time to go for the throat. Doesnt it belong to you in the first ce, am I wrong?

    I studied her face, searching for any hint of surprise or worse, aggression. True to Soraseos warning, Eris proved unreadable. I had years of experience dealing with liars. The worst of them would bluster or feign surprise; the best of them simply kept up the charade with such aplomb they caused the other party to doubt their own senses.

    Eris neither denied nor confirmed my suspicions. Instead, she adjusted her robes and then searched inside her purse. I tensed up, half-expecting her to bring out a dagger or a firestone. Instead, she presented me with an enchanted pipe filled to the brim with a ck herb.

    Want some? she asked me with a calm, serene expression. Its dreamshade.

    I nced at her fingers. Few would have noticed it, but she held onto the pipe a little too tightly. The way a nervous person would hide subtle shakes.

    <em>Shes afraid about how this conversation might turn out</em>. It would fit with her offer. Dreamshade was a drug that helped calm the nerves. Apothecaries often rmended it for those who struggled to sleep. <em>Cant me her. Im a little frightened too.</em>

    You clearly need it more than me, I replied.

    Give it time, Eris replied with none of the yfulness she showed earlier. She channeled essence through the pipe, which soon heated up on its own and released a blue smoke from its tip. Youlle around too.

    I remained silent, knowing she would try to fill the void. Which she did.

    Youve met her, havent you? Eris asked me as she brought the pipe to her lips. The Devil of Greed.

    <em>Her</em>, I noted. <em>Not me, not</em><em>us</em>. I have.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it.

    This will take a while if you stick to two-word answers, Robin. Eris blew a cloud of blue smoke into my face. It smelled sweet, like a good dream forgotten on the morrow. I sensed the old mark activating, but I dont know what you saw or did.

    It surprised me that she would admit to sensing anything at all, as it all but confirmed part of my usations. I kept focusing on her bodynguage. I detected signs of nervousness, but not the kind I would expect from a liar taken by surprise, no. Instead, she showed the quiet eptance of a warrior facing a battle they knew woulde one day.

    It could be a trick, so I did not lower my guard. However, I suspected her reaction was genuine. She didy the groundwork for todays conversation. She simply didnt expect it to happen so soon.

    A vision of her appeared to me during a battle, I said calmly. She came down from the heavens with pretty wings to purchase a soul.

    Wings. Eris scoffed, blue smoke floating out of her nostrils. Did she wear my face?

    Not quite, but there was a resemnce, I confirmed. I didnt give it too much weight. If the Devil of Greed could manifest as a facsimile of the Goddess, she could easily mimic your manner to sow dissent among us. I had to confirm the truth through other evidence using the breadcrumbs you left me.

    The book I lent you, Eris guessed. The onepiling tales on the old Merchants.

    I managed to trante parts of it. I had time to read around a campfiretely. One story held my attention in particr.

    Eris nk gaze turned sorrowful, even a little bit guilty. She took in a deep inhtion and fell into a deep silence.

    <em>Once upon a time, there used to be a kingdom called Critias</em>, I recounted. <em>Its people were great, but their greed was greater. Its kings sought to conquer all that the sun touched through force of arms, until one day their armies stopped before an abbey whose treasury was said to overflow with gold.</em>

    Wealth, Eris corrected me calmly. The old Erebian word for gold and wealth are phically simr.

    Sorry, I did my best to trante it urately. The fact she could tell this detail at all caught my attention. Did you <em>write </em>that story?

    Eris nodded gravely. In more ways than one.

    Her flirty, joyful demeanor was nowhere to be seen, reced with a thoughtful scowl. Either she had dropped a mask she wore in pleasantpany, or put on another to earn my sympathy. I couldnt tell which yet, so I carried on with the story.

    <em>The abbey was home to a witch of great power and cunning, who offered the king a deal: if the Kingdom of Critias would spare her home, she would give him hisnds weight in gold</em>. The more I spoke, the deeper Eris scowled. <em>The greedy men of Critias, who did not intend to follow through with their end of the bargain, foolishly epted.</em>

    <em>When dawn rose on their kingdom again, its enemiesid their eyes upon a gilded graveyard, </em>Eris finished with a deep sigh.<em> For all men and stone had turned into the purest gold</em>.

    Its a cautionary tale, though I have my issues with it. A Merchant cant turn a city to gold on their own. <em>Unless they possessed the Alchemists power too. </em>Neither could I find any historical records of a Kingdom of Critias. This leads me to assume this story, if factual, took ce before the Sunderwar. A time during which the Arcane Abbey wouldnt exist.

    Men have worshiped idols since the beginning of their race, Robin. Eris seized the Devil Coin with her free hand and let the sunlight reflect on its gilded outer shell. She gazed at it with what could pass for a look of remorse. We all want to believe in a higher power that decides their destiny, whether it be an almighty Goddess, wealth, or luck.

    I remembered our discussion during ourst date. She showed me the same thoughtful expression as back then, but somber, a little tired.

    Did people worship you once? I asked her.

    Yes. Eris snorted in disdain. When fools want to get rich quickly, they start a religion.

    Ill keep that in mind. I joined my hands together. Now, tell me the truth. The entire truth.

    I have never lied to you, Robin. Eris avoided my gaze by looking back at the window. Though I did keep details to myself.

    Pretty important details, I replied dryly. What did you say again? That you keep everybodys secrets? I suppose I should have guessed it included yours.

    I am aplicated gal. Eris put the coin back on the table, adjusted her position, and then locked eyes with me. It struck me how <em>old </em>theyd be in an instant. I no longer faced a yful and naughty nun, but a mature traveler who had wandered into very dark ces. Before I answer your questions, Robin, will you indulge two of my own?

    Fair, I replied calmly. I could give her a little concession. Ask away.

    Eris stared at her reflection in the coffee. Her fair face had darkened into the most morose of scowls.

    Do you think there are crimes so great, she whispered, so low I could barely hear her, that they can never be atoned for?

    I squinted back at her. You should ask the Priest instead of the Merchant.

    I did. Eris inhaled her dreamshade while ncing at the cathedral outside. But I want to hear <em>your </em>answer.

    I pondered my answer for a moment. I could hardly rte to it. Unlike Cortaner or Soraseo, I didnt me myself for any crime. Neither was I the judging kind of person. However, Eris clearly wanted to hear my personal thoughts, so I could at least be honest.

    I am not the best ce to discuss sins and forgiveness, I replied after a short while. However, if you have killed one thousand people, stop forever, and then save ten thousand lives I would say your existence will have left a positive impact on the world.

    Eris chuckled mirthlessly. Funny. That was my reasoning too.

    I watched her set the pipe aside and then grab her cup with both hands. She stared at her reflection for a second before taking a sip.

    Next and final question, Eris said. Why isnt this cup poisoned?

    I snorted. Why would it be?

    I dont know? Eris smiled slightly at my nonchnce, though her eyes remained sharp and tense. If I am truly the Devil of Greed, shouldnt you try to restrain me before I take flight?

    Ah, but thats the thing. I sipped from my cup, trying to put her at ease. I didnt want her to think this would escte into a fight. I dont think you are the Devil of Greed. Or at least, not <em>anymore</em>.

    Oh? Eris rested her head on her palm. What makes you think that?

    Well, first of all, a great many things wouldnt make sense otherwise. Eris had tried to dissuade me from bypassing my ss anti-corruption safeguards, helped us fight the Knots, and offered assistance at every turn. Even a deep cover agent wouldnt go so far to hide their allegiances. I cant imagine that the Fatebinder, the holder of the very ss meant to oppose the Demon Ancestors and who possesses more knowledge than all of us Heroesbined, wouldnt have ferreted you out earlier.

    Everyone makes mistakes, Robin, Eris replied with a small sigh. Even a Goddess.

    But how can I exin yours then? I retorted with the same tone. You teleported in right after I triggered my marks safeguards, gave me a book with hints on your true identity, and left breadcrumbs about the truth in our conversations. Someone so experienced wouldnt give hints unless they wanted to be discovered. You <em>wanted </em>me to figure out the truth by myself.

    She didnt deny it. I do not believe people benefit from being told the truth, Robin. It is the journey to obtain answers that teaches us to value them.

    I couldnt disagree with her way of thinking. Months of purchasing skills taught me the difference between <em>knowing </em>something and <em>understanding </em>it.

    I had the misfortune of witnessing a demons birth, I confessed. The Devil of Greed purchased a mans soul and emptied the body. She took the conscience, the mind, the will, leaving only the fools darkest desires behind to fill the husk and twist it into a fiend.

    Eris sipped from her cup without a word. By now, I was convinced she would neither fight nor flee. Her fingers were still trembling however.

    Which led me to draw a conclusion: that a humans self can be <em>fractioned</em>. Which exined why I could buy skills, memories, and even personality traits. Our soul and the part of us that can create a demon are two parts of a whole. They can exist independently. One inside a Devil Coin, the other inside a body of flesh and blood.

    Eris sad smile reminded me of a tired teacher happy that a student had finally stumbled on the correct answer. Interesting theory.

    The demon usually takes over the body and the soul bes trapped with the Devil of Greed inside her coins, but in your case, I suspect it is the opposite. Though the reason behind it still escaped me. And then, theres a final piece of evidence I cant ignore.

    Let me guess. Eris scratched at the Wanderer mark on her cheek. My ss.

    Ive already failed to purchase and sell sses. Even assuming someone can bear marks belonging to different sets at once, I can only see one way you might have earned yours. I nced at the coin-shaped golden tattoo on my hand. The same way I gained mine.

    Because it <em>chose </em>me. Eris chuckled to herself and rxed in her chair a little. Congrattions, Robin. You figured it out.

    I smiled slightly, but did not lower my guard just yet. After all, she hadnt confirmed much yet; she simply didnt deny my points.

    Is Eris even your real name?

    Eris took a deep breath. I watched a thousand thoughts quickly sh in her eyes. I caught a glimpse of fear and hesitation. From the way she subtly shifted on her chair, I could tell she briefly considered teleporting away rather than answering me.

    Why havent you asked me to sell you back my ability to lie? she suddenly asked me.

    Besides the fact Ive faced people who could work around it? I scoffed. I figured that as your <em>very good friend</em>, I owed you the benefit of the doubt.

    Eris scoffed, then chuckled, and thenughed.

    And I could tell it was all genuine.

    Are you <em>serious</em>? she asked, giggling like a hyena. <em>This</em> is your reason? Because were very close friends?

    Well, yes? I smirked back at her. I mean, myst girlfriend turned out to be a professional killer. I would say Im pretty open-minded as far as rtionships go.

    You sure set a low bar. Eris shook her head and looked away; not because she wanted to hide anything this time, but simply because she couldnt face me withoutughing. Youre impossible

    I waited for her to calm down. While I put on the charm, I meant every word I said; and I could tell Eris knew it too. She finally eased up a bit.

    Enough to return my trust.

    My full name, she said, is Daltia Eris Brra.

    Her sentence hung in the air like a curse. The tension between us returned stronger than ever before, yet somehow, I felt no fear. In fact, I was somewhat relieved.

    Shed finally decided toe clean.

    Or at least it was a thousand years ago, Eris said as she slowly finished her coffee, when the Witchcrafting Church took me in.

    The Witchcrafting Church? Id never heard of that institution.

    The Arcane Abbey and the Cult of the Four Artifacts did not exist when the Goddess still walked the earth, nor was there a difference between priests and witchcrafters. Eris set her cup aside. As I said, Robin, Ive never lied to you. My father was a priest and my mother a priestess. They simply conceived me a thousand years ago in very different times.

    That was a pretty big detail to omit. I have to say, you dont act like how I would expect a thousand-year-old person to.

    Myment seemed to amuse her. Have you met <em>any </em>other thousand-year olds yet?

    I scoffed. Point taken. I just cant tell how much of your previous behavior was a mask.

    None of it was. I am all of me. Eris locked eyes with me. I dont wish you to spend centuries trapped at the bottom of ake, Robin, but if you do, believe me: youll want to make up for old times once you get out, and you will stop caring about how others perceive you.

    So she did spend time trapped in the Lake of Greed. Part of the legend was true. Interesting. I didnt think she was entirely truthful, however. She was definitively afraid I might reject her upon learning the truth.

    I still cant believe you were brazen enough to use your middle name, I said after shaking my head. I cant tell whether it was bold or mad.

    Most people forget information they learned five minutes ago, so imagine a thousand years. I dont think theres anybody alive who remembers Bels surname besides our party. Eris expression darkened again. Even himself.

    I assume you speak of Belgoroth? I finished my coffee, the bitter drink leaving a lump of sugar at the bottom. Were the two of you close?

    We were friends. All seven of us. Eris imed back her pipe and inhaled some dreamshade. I noted her hand was no longer trembling. Bel used to be the perfect knight, Robin. A chivalrous warrior who put Rnd to shame. He was thest to lose his way.

    And you were the first? I guessed. Her grim silence was an answer in itself. Did it start with Critias?

    No, of course not. Do you think Bel woke up one day thinking he should burn down a kingdom to the ground? Eris shrugged her shoulders, her eyes full of sorrow. Corruption is a gradual process, Robin. It starts with little concessions that slowly build up into very big moralpromises. Critias was the culmination of a very long process; the moment when I decided that the world would be better with me in charge of it.

    Then it started with those? I pointed at the Devil Coin. Is that why the safeguards triggered when I tried to seal a soul in an object? Because that was the first step you took off the right path?

    I originally tried sealing souls into objects to save people I cared for from death, Eris confirmed. The raw shame in her voice sounded genuine enough. Greed isnt about collecting wealth, Robin. Greed means to never let things go, even when they must. I bought my first souls out of <em>necessity</em>, but somewhere along the line I began purchasing them out of <em>convenience</em>.

    Until life became just anothermodity. I supposed vers probably operated on the same moral framework. Once a man could own another person, it became easier for him to degrade others. How did the seven of you be the Demon Ancestors? I dont think immortality was part of the original Hero package.

    My experiments on souls taught me how to ovee death. Eris yed with the Devil Coin, flipping it between her fingers. Do you know why Soulforged Adamantine is indestructible?

    Because it was forged in a ce sacred to the Four Artifacts? I recounted.

    But why would that make an object unchanging? Eris pushed, before telling me the truth. The Four Artifacts helped the Goddess create the world. They are the physical avatars of the sun, the earth, the ocean everything that makes up our reality. Objects of Soulforged Adamantine cannot be altered because their construction process turns them into the very incarnation of a concept.

    My heart skipped a beat as I figured it out. The <em>sins</em>.

    Eris confirmed my hypothesis with a sharp, thoughtful nod. She handed me her pipe. I epted it. Shed been right. I did need it in the end.

    Bels sword, my coins we each used a relic to tie our very souls to fundamental aspects of human nature, Eris exined to me. So long as mortals experience that emotion, the relics fueling our immortal life will remain unchanged.

    The pieces fell into ce as I inhaled the sweet dreamshade. The source of the Demon Ancestors immortality was as simple as it was effective. They used the Merchants power to bind their souls to invulnerable objects. If a Soulforged Adamtantine relic was indeed invible, then not even the Heroes power could affect them.

    I appreciated the dreamshades soothing effect as I mulled over the monumental task ahead of us. No wonder our predecessors resorted to sealing away the Demon Ancestors. If Belgoroths sword would continue to exist as long as anger and hatred did, nothing short of worldwide enlightenment or destruction would shatter it.

    The process works in reverse too, Eris rified. The seven of us became living incarnations of mankinds sins. For a time, I was <em>greed</em>. You should have seen how I looked back then, all golden and pretty.

    I couldnt stop myself from teasing her. I prefer you without wings.

    Does my old self still carry a scroll around? Eris covered her mouth to stifle augh. I thought it would make me look smarter.

    She did leave an impression. The other Daltia was as ostentatious as this mansion. Are you two still connected?

    Somewhat. She exists as a disembodied consciousness inhabiting the Devil Coins. I can feel their presence or when my old mark triggers, and I believe she can catch glimpses of what I do. Eris squinted at me. Killing me wont destroy her, Robin. Seriously, dont try.

    I didnt intend to. I assumed the Fatebinder would have already done it if it could work. How did the two of you

    Split? Eris took a long, deep breath. This might sound strange to you, but seven centuries of solitary confinement is a long, long time to reflect on your mistakes.

    I thought back to the Lake of Greed wed visited on our way to Walbourg. If it had indeed been Daltias resting ce for seven-hundred years I dared not imagine the impact it would have had on her psych. Perhaps all the prayers channeled through the Sanctuary reached her heart buried underneath all the greed and ambition.

    The Devil the world wanted me to be and the person Id be started to diverge, until one day, the seal keeping my body imprisoned broke and we split, Eris continued. I dont remember everything. Some of my memories are still with my other self, not to mention my mark.

    Unfortunately, the demon half was the one who kept the corrupted Merchant ss.

    Perhaps that was why the Wanderers mark chose Eris. I remembered hearing once that it represented the beginning of a new journey in Fatebinding readings. A fresh new start.

    Why are you the only one to split from your inner demon? I asked, before quickly realizing Id asked the wrong question. Are you the only one to have done so?

    I knew better than to expect good news on that front, so Eris answer did not surprise me. As far as I know, Im the only one who decided to turn my life around. I suppose Im the exception that proves the rule.

    Why? I asked. Is it because of their connection to their sins?

    If I could change, so can they. The reason they havent is much simpler, Robin. Eris pointed at my mark. Would <em>you </em>surrender your ss?

    No, I conceded. And I only possessed a fraction of the power she once wielded. Come to think of it, it must have taken extraordinary willpower to even consider it.

    Do you believe someone nicknamed the <em>Curse of Pride</em> would consider being <em>wrong</em>? Eris teased me before quickly regaining herposure. Youve met Bel. Centuries of watching human atrocities have only embittered him.

    And now, it fell on us to stop him.

    The person in front of me helped shatter the world. She had killed thousands, if not millions, collecting their souls for nefarious purposes. I now understood the reason behind her earlier questions; there might be some crimes no amount of atonement could make up for.

    But if a divine mark decided to select her as a Hero again and grant another chance, who was I to deny a chance at redemption? I couldnt be certain whether or not Eris indeed told me the entire truth, and I still had many, <em>many </em>more questions to ask her but I could at least grant her the benefit of the doubt.

    Why? I finally asked. Something bothered me with her tale. Why did you leave hints to your true identity for me to figure out? Wouldnt it have been easier to start anew if you kept it all for yourself?

    Because I have a crush on you? Eris smiled sadly. More seriously I cant tell.

    I raised an eyebrow. Cant, or wont?

    Stop teasing me, Robin. Its more amusing when I do it. Eris boldly snatched the pipe of my lips. If I had to say as fellow Merchants, I hoped we could get along. Its not easy to keep secrets all the time.

    So you tried to break the news in a way that wouldnt make me hate you on sight? I couldnt help but smile. I hadnt expected that answer. There are easier ways to win my heart.

    Give me a break, Robin. I am seven hundred years out of practice. Eris shifted in her seat. Where does that leave us now?

    I was asking myself the exact same question.

 Chapter Thirty-Three: The Devil and the Priest

    Chapter Thirty-Three: The Devil and the Priest

    I usually sought out crowded ces when in a conflicted mood.

    I believed all humans were on a spectrum as far as social interactions were concerned. Some people loved to be alone. Colmar struck me as the kind of person who would be happy working weeks in hisboratory with no one to disturb him; and while she wasnt adverse to group activities, Soraseo preferred to rest in quiet meditation. These two spent energy when around others and recovered it in quiet solitude.

    I often heard the same callwho wouldnt need some space now and thenbut I worked the other way around. Istion drove me mad. Parties were my medication. I felt happier when surrounded by fellow human beings than the walls of my room.

    And as I long suspected, Eris shared my predilections.

    Oh look, an apothecary, she said while pulling my sleeve towards a shop. Wed stopped by five ces already. We should get Colmar a souvenir.

    After our heavy discussion at the manor we decided to take a breath of fresh air in Walbourgs old city; more specifically, its cathedral. Arcane Abbey holdings were almost always the core of an artisan district, due to the religions focus on witchcrafting, and Walbourgs center of worship was no exception.

    While nowhere near as lively as the suburbs market, the cathedrals za weed its fair share of shops. Pilgrim hospices and small alchemist emporiums prospered in the shadow of its spires. With theing Reformist summit and the Priests presence in the city, a hive of believers had made the trip to the city. All the inns we passed by werepletely full, the baked bread stands had been raided by hordes of ravenous visitors, and the craftsmens shelves missed half of their usual goods. The next weeks would be very prosperous for Walbourgs various businesses.

    A pity they were <em>all </em>tourist traps.

    Most of the people visiting the cathedral were pilgrims, foreign dignitaries, or Reformist priests. In short, individuals with deep pockets and little regard for what they spent. The old citys merchants were more than happy to y along.

    A look at the apothecarys wares confirmed my fears. A half-liter of ointment sold in Snowdrift for eight coppers cost a full silver in Walbourg; a twenty percent increase in price ording to thetest exchange rates. Worse, Id bought enough apothecary skills to tell the Walbourgian one was of poorer quality than my hometowns.

    Now, I was the Merchant. I believed everyone was entitled to the sweat of his brow and to earn profit for their work. I did not fault these traders for setting high prices.

    But I <em>also </em>believed in quality standards, and <em>none </em>of these shops met them.

    Im d Colmar stayed in Snowdrift, I mused after we left the apothecary behind us. He would have thrown a fit.

    You should get a souvenir for him anyway, Eris replied with a mischievous look. It would be funny.

    Indeed, it would remind him that he does exceptional work. I''d read enough of Colmar''s journals to know that he still med himself for failing to save Hero''s Rest. All his sesses since mattered little when weighed against his past guilt. Did you know his secret?

    I''ve told you before, no? I keep everybody''s secrets. Eris smile darkened slightly. I''ve done my best to clear the remaining nightseed gardens since he informed me of their existence.

    Did you seed? The world would be better off without gue-spreading nts around.

    Not yet. Eris let out a sigh. Worse, I suspect the Knot of Sloth''s herbalists are trying to breed a more virulent variant. The Ranger is hunting them down in the Arcadian Freeholds.

    I mulled over that information while ncing at a nearby stand. An eagle-like birdkin trader valiantly attempted to sell off a feather mantle to a human visitor, to no avail. I found it strangely appropriate to see one right as we were discussing Colmars past.

    However, Eris did not share my amusement. Quite the contrary, she began to scowl and hold my sleeve awkwardly. Did the birdkin bother her somehow?

    The more times change, Robin, Eris said with a hint of sorrow, the more they stay the same.

    I wondered what she meant until I noticed that this trader was the only beastkin in the market and that fewer clients stopped at his establishment than those of hispetitors.

    How disappointing. Walbourg was more tolerant of beastkin than Archfrost, in that they allowed them into their city to trade or work, but they remained a distrusted minority.

    I briefly hesitated to visit his stand since it seemed to bother Eris, before deciding that I should at least show a fellow merchant some support. Thankfully, Eris quickly regained herposure and joined me in looking over his wares. A few robes attracted my attention. I touched the texture, smooth and yet incredibly strong.

    Is this monarch-made silk? I asked the merchant in Arcadian. If Id guessed right, then he had toe from the Freeholds.

    You have a good eye, sir, the birdkinplimented me in the same tongue. Monarch silk, straight from Alnd.

    Now he had truly caught my interest. The monarchs were a rare breed of butterfly beastkin from the Arcadian Freeholds. Their city, Alnd, earned representative seats in the government after supporting its independence. Most high-quality silk in the west came from their weavers.

    Ill sell this one for six-hundred silver, the merchant said upon presenting me with a splendid, spider-woven purple dress. Itll look good on yourdy.

    We are only very good friends, Eris replied slyly. Whatever bothered her about the birdkin, she hid it well. But I wouldnt mind a new dress, Robin.

    I was starting to wonder if shed truly shed her demonic greed. I squinted at the robes in skepticism. The silk didnt seem to be counterfeitI had purchased enough weaver skills to tellbut the price bothered me.

    When I approached silk suppliers for a special project, they offered me a price of one-thousand and two hundred silver coins per pound of unprocessed monarch silk, I informed the birdkin merchant. The exorbitant cost forced us to use a lesser quality fiber for the airships balloon. Yet you offer to sell me the same weight of processed silk for half the price. Whys that?

    The eagle-faced beastkin tilted his beak in a way that reminded me of Colmar. Were those same suppliers humans, sir? Id assume so.

    Ah, I get it. I chuckled. Monarchs rip off their human customers? Thats fair.

    No, no, Eris replied. They just give fellow beastkin preferential treatment.

    Youll find no cheaper silk than mine, the beastkin trader boasted. Which was probably true. Ive got friends in Alnd. If you want the finest clothes, Ill fly straight to the source.

    If so, then you may have a deal, I said upon putting the dress back on the stand, much to Eris chagrin. I am more interested in buying unprocessed silk in bulk.

    The beastkin rubbed his feathers, which were as white as snow. Are you a fellow merchant?

    In a way, I replied. Thankfully, word of my true identity hadnt spread yet. Ie from Archfrost.

    I see, I see. From the beastkins dejected expression, he most likely wouldnt be allowed through the border. You will make a nice profit selling the silk back in your homnd, sir.

    It wasnt a bad idea. I might explore it further afterpleting the airship project. Monarch silk was about as strong as spiders web, so it would help deal with some of the technical issues that Mr. Fronan and Marika encountered.

    I took a look at the rest of his wares, mostly clothes, candles, and trinkets straight from the Arcadian Freeholds. To my joy, the birdkins prices were much fairer than his localpetitors. I supposed the merchant had no other choice in order to attract clients. He sold red beeswax candles at five copper pieces, twenty-five for a pounds worth. Considering they were much cheaper than any in Archfrost, I suspected he also obtained them from Alnd.

    What are those symbols supposed to represent? I inquired upon studying the candles. All of them showed weblike,plex patterns on their surface.

    Its a tradition in Alnd to mark ones candles with identification marks, Eris exined to me. This helps identify the craftsmen and the hives from which they came from.

    Her knowledge clearly impressed the birdkin. Mdy has visited Alnd?

    Only once, Eris replied, before giggling upon noticing my curious stare. Ill tell you another time, Robin but only if you buy me a gift.

    You mean a bribe? I asked mirthfully.

    Details, details.

    The birdkin merchant immediately jumped on the opportunity. If you dont like the symbols, sir, I can shave their surface off and write yourdys name instead.

    "It seems wrong to erase cultural markers," I said, slightly uneasy with the proposal.

    "Do not worry, sir, we do it all the time," the birdkin replied. "These symbols are only meant to help trace the craftsmen if required. They have no sacred significance."

    In that case, I guessed I could go along with shaving off the wax. Now that I thought of it, beeswax was quite the malleable and durable material. You could write highly detailed patterns on its surface, much like a runestone.

    An idea quickly crossed my mind.

    You know what, you have a deal, I told the merchant. Whats your name, my fellow traveler on the path ofmercial sess?

    Aiglemont, if it pleases you, he answered with a short bow.

    Ill take a candle with my <em>very good friend</em>s name on it, Aiglemont, I said. And ten pounds of shaved, nk candles.

    Ten pounds? Aiglemont stared at me as if Id gone mad. Are you buying on a temples behalf, sir?

    No, an inventors. If my intuition was correct, that wax would help me further the soundstone project. Ill pay in advance for the work, of course. Could you deliver it to our dwelling tomorrow? Id also like to discuss buying unprocessed silk from you too, but I need to consult other partners first.

    Aiglemont straightened up. I''d be very pleased to deliver on your order, sir, but it might be best if you were to send someone to pick it up. If others see me at your house, they will they will talk.

    Let them, I replied as I handed him his payment. Anyone who gives me the cold shoulder for speaking with another, whether they have hair or feathers, is not worth my time.

    Aiglemont looked at me in disbelief, but he wisely epted the coins without furtherment. He agreed to pass by tomorrow morning with my order, and Eris inscribed her name on a piece of paper for future marking.

    She did not write down the Daltia part.

    I would have preferred the dress, Eris said after we left the stand behind. But I appreciate it nheless.

    Everything for my very good friend, I said as we sat on the banks of a nearby fountain. A statue of the past Ranger, Wal the Willful, riding a giant deer stood in its center, grim and vignt.

    You didnt answer me when I asked where my confession left us, so I had to assume. Eris gave me a nk look. Was I wrong?

    No, you werent. I shrugged. But Im close friends with an undead, so why not an ex-demon too?

    I <em>knew </em>you had a crush on Colmar too, Eris joked. I immediately noticed the spark of relief in her eyes. All these nights working together on science projects were but the start of a romance transcending gender, species, and the grave.

    I chuckled back. Were very much alike, you and I.

    We love to ruffle feathers?

    We both use jokes to lighten the mood. I looked into the fountains water. Visitors had thrown copper coins into it, probably as a tribute and prayer to thete Ranger. Thats how we deal with tension.

    Eris crossed her legs, her smile all gone. I admit Im a bit reassured, Robin, she confessed. I was afraid you would try to burn me at the pyre.

    I scoffed. Do I look like the inquisitor type to you?

    You never know how people react to these things. Eris took a long, deep breath. I was scared you would think that Im lying to you, try to strike before I could escape, that sort of thing.

    Is that why you were afraid tomit? I asked her. Because you wanted to avoid rejection?

    Eris hesitated a moment before answering, Yes, I was.

    It must have been difficult for her to take the risk at all. We Heroes were created to destroy the Demon Ancestors. A few among us would have probably skipped straight to striking first and asking questions never.

    You should tell the others eventually, I said. Maybe not now, but one day. Colmar would understand at least.

    Understanding is one thing, but to ept is another. Eris expression turned somber. Did Colmar tell you that he found the first beastkins remains under Heros Rest?

    I read it in his journals.

    Eris nced at Aiglemont. The birdkin patiently waited for new clients to stop at his stand. Few did.

    It was I, she said with a grim, dead voice, who helped Belsara create the first beastkin.

    Her words hit me like a cold shower. A chill traveled down my spine as I listened in utter silence.

    Back then Id already figured out collective perception influenced our marks, Eris continued, while carefully avoiding my gaze. Belsara cleverly realized that if she made humans just beastly-looking enough for others to consider them <em>as </em>beasts, then her power would let her control them.

    A wave of nausea and disgust overwhelmed me. I covered my mouth with my hand so as not to puke.

    So she asked me to use the Merchants mark to merge human ves with animals. Eris paused for a moment, as if afraid to put onest pinch of salt on an open wound. Hundreds died before we could refine the process.

    The deep guilt and shame in her voice sounded sincere enough. And she was right to feel that way. Neither of us dared to look at Aiglemont; Eris, because it reminded her of a terrible crime; and I because I felt terribly sorry for him.

    How would that poor birdkin react if he learned his ancestors had been made to look like animals so they would be seen as them? That the rejection humans felt toward his kind had been nned from the very start? All so a mad Ranger could have ves tomand?

    <em>Thats horrifying</em>. After recovering, I finally managed to look at Aiglemont with a fresh new look, and a great deal of sympathy. <em>I cant stay idle.</em>

    I havemitted unforgivable crimes, Robin. Do you think Colmar would tolerate my presence if I confessed this one? Eris didnt wait for me to answer. He would wish me dead, and he would be right to. Truthfully, Im not certain I can trust myself at all, let alone others.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    I crossed my arms. Id be lying if I said her confession didnt affect me. It horrified me the same way Cortaners own admission of ughtering whole viges for coins did. I was no priest, but maybe Eris was right. There <em>were </em>crimes beyond forgiveness. Creating the beastkin was one of those.

    Few of the Heroes would ept the truth about Eris either, at least for now. Rnd and I suspected the marks often chose people hurt by the Demon Ancestors so they would have proper motivation. A few of us wouldnt think twice about condemning Eris. They wouldnt agree that her rehabilitation was sincere.

    However The way Eris avoided looking at Aiglemont, the shame in her eyes, the heavy remorses in her voice They told me a lot about her.

    You regret it, I stated.

    I regret <em>everything</em>, Eris replied dryly. I cant go back and change the person I was, but I can be someone else. Someone better.

    You can be a better person if you try, I replied. Everyone could if they put in the effort. But you cant be someone else.

    Why not? Eris shrugged her shoulders. If you wear a mask long enough, your face will grow to fit it.

    I meditated on her words. Much of her behavior made a lot more sense to me now. She sought to bury and forget her past, not find peace with it. To keep running from herself, to change bit by bit until she became unrecognizable from the Devil she used to be.

    I wasnt one to judge, but it sounded like a very unhealthy way to live to me.

    Im not sure itll work, I said. You were you then, you are you now. What you did is part of you.

    I dont want to be <em>me</em>, Robin. Eris looked away. Im still connected to <em>her</em>. Shes greed incarnate, so she wants me back.

    That must be why she gave me hints, I guessed. She wanted me to drive you away. To iste you.

    Maybe. Eris winked at me, as she always did when trying to lighten the mood. Or maybe she likes you too. I wonder how much I influence her too.

    She knew youd sold me your ability to lie once at least, I pointed out.

    I dont think she can spy on all of your deals, or the Knots of Greed would have warned the Regents army of your quick advance, but she can probably sense whenever we conclude one, Eris suggested. The old and new Merchant sses are connected too. Thats why you saw one of my memories when you triggered the failsafe and hijacked my other selfs pact with Sebastian.

    I would have to be careful when I used my power near demons then. If I could glimpse into the Devil of Greeds memories when I triggered my marks failsafe, the reverse might be true.

    Youre not the only one of us with skeletons in their closet, I argued in an attempt tofort her. So do Cortaner, Soraseo, Mersie

    They have <em>skeletons</em>, Ive filled <em>graveyards</em>, Eris replied grimly. My words had fallen t. I appreciate the attempt at support, Robin, but if we gathered all the sins your current generationmitted in their entire lifetime it wouldnt equal a thousandth of the atrocities Ive left behind me.

    Perhaps, I conceded. I could hardly argue with that. However, you <em>are </em>trying to turn your life around. No matter the crimes youvemitted, youre putting an effort into rehabilitation for little to no benefit to yourself. Thatsmendable.

    Eris met my gaze. I could tell she studied my face, looking for any hint of a lie.

    I like you, Robin, she said upon finding nothing, but sometimes you sound awfully nave.

    If I had a choice between seeing the shit in everything or the bright side, Ill always pick thetter. I would rather try to improve things and fail than never attempt anything at all. Im not sure how I can help, but Ill do my best to support you, whatever maye.

    Thank you. Eris smiled at me, though there was a sad edge to it. That means a lot to me.

    I knew it did. Somehow, I had the feeling Eris struggled to believe in her own rehabilitation. I supported her attempt to atone for her past, but the way she sought to dissociate herself from it by lying to herself and everyone around her unnerved me. A face might grow to fit a mask, but the body and mind would never forget.

    In a way, she reminded me of Mersie; but whereas my old lover could not let go of her past, Eris was trying to run from it. Neither option seemed good to me.

    Maybe Eris would realize that with time. It would take a while, and she half-expected to stumble at one point or another on her way to redemption already. Henceforth, it was my job to catch her before she could fall. To make sure she felt supported enough to stick to the right path.

    If youre afraid of being pulled back in with the Devil of Greed, why collect her coins? I asked her. I understand you might want to correct your own mistakes, but exposing yourself to the Devil of Greeds treasures sounds risky.

    No one else can handle the Devil Coins safely. They contain shards of my other selfs will. She can subtly influence the desires of those who hold them. Not too much, but enough topel them into making mistakes.

    Influence? I handled them just fine in the past.

    Did you, truly? Eris put a finger on her lips. Let me guess When you captured Sebastian, you confiscated his Devil Coin. You felt the urge to keep him alive, even when it became clear it would be to your detriment. Im sure you thought of bringing him to Rnd like a trophy.

    I tensed up at her words. Shed nailed it. Eris took my embarrassed silence for what it was: a confirmation.

    It made sense to you at the time, of course, she said. He was more valuable alive than dead. He held information that could help you, Rnd, and everyone else.

    But it was <em>greed</em>, I realized, my fists curled into fists. Why didnt I see it before? Marika informed me that Belgoroths sword drove others to rage. Of course carrying a Devil Coin wouldnt be without its consequences. in and simple.

    Greed that nearly cost us the Knight, Eris confirmed. Dont me yourself. They didnt call me the Golden Strategist for nothing. Without being too modest, I was the teams brain.

    I raised an eyebrow. Not the Mage?

    Youd be surprised, Eris replied, slightly amused by my skepticism. It is one thing to be <em>knowledgeable </em>and another to be <em>wise</em>. Lahmia never learned that lesson.

    Lahmia? The name didnt ring any bells, but I could warrant a guess. You mean the first Mage?

    Shes the Lich of Gluttony now. She hungers for knowledge more than anything. Once she read and wrote books; now she simply consumes them and their writers both. Eris shook her head. Anyway, unlike the other Demon Ancestors, my other self exists as a consciousness bound to the coins. She has no body of her own left, not since I left.

    So if we gather all the Devil Coins and bury them under a Sanctuary, she will be trapped there forever, I guessed. Unable to influence the world or break out on her own.

    Thats the n, Eris replied. Bury my old treasures and my sins along with it.

    Easier said than done. How many Devil Coins did you create?

    Too many to remember. Eris scowled darkly. Splitting my essence through so many coins diminished their individual power, but as you can guess it made it near impossible to contain the demon I became.

    Daltia warned me that, unlike the other Demon Ancestors, neither the Heroes nor the Arcane Abbey managed to fully seal her away. Seven centuries of tireless work by our predecessors failed to gather all the Devil Coins. Eris cooperation might tip the scales, but it was equally likely the task would take more than one lifetime toplete.

    Shes feeding the souls she collects to <em>something</em>, though I couldnt tell what, I warned Eris, whose head snapped up in rm. Any idea what it might be? An artificial Artifact? A new Demon Ancestor?

    Im not sure. I don''t have all my past memories since the split. Eris crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. However, I have my suspicions. Souls influence our collective consciousness, and thus how the Seven Great sses work.

    And since she owns the souls, she can do whatever she wants with them. Which could only spell disaster. If she possesses enough minds that believe she owns the world

    Then she will as far as our powers are concerned, Eris confirmed. It has always been my goal since I fell, to own <em>everything </em>and <em>everyone</em>.

    A prospect I did not relish in the slightest.

    I considered our priorities. The Devil of Greeds n was as insidious as it was terrible for the worlds future. If she collected enough souls to shape the collective flow of essence, then she would be invincible.

    However, she still hadnt reached that tipping point after centuries of effort. It might take her decades more effort toplete her n; whereas her colleagues threatened us here and now.

    The Devil of Greed is a long-term problem, I decided. We must deal with Belgoroth before he sets the world on fire first.

    Agreed. Eris rose up. Come with me.

    To where? I asked, confused.

    To the cathedral. Eris winked at me. Theres someone I want you to meet.

    I quickly guessed who: the very Hero leading the Reformist movement.

    Entering the cathedral proved easier than I expected considering the sheer number of guards and soldiers protecting its perimeter. Eris had been a regr visitor as the Fatebinders envoy to the Reformists, so we were allowed past the great whitewood doors and into the nave. The smell of incense mixed with that of polished wood immediately filled my nostrils.

    Walbourgs cathedral was a rtively recent building, and an awe-inspiring one at that. Its stained windows of elemental runestones filled its aisles and transept center with an ethereal glow of countless dancing colors. The polished checkerboard floor guided the way to the altar, where marble statues of the Four Artifacts surrounded a hooded representation of the Goddess Herself. Most artists gave her a different mask, as her face remained ungraspable for mortals; Walbourgs architects opted for a mirror of gold shining in the filtered sunlight.

    I immediately noticed a very important detail, or rather, the absence of one. Most Arcane Abbey churches included altars dedicated to the Heroes. Not this one. While our marks were duly showcased on the stained-ss windows, the Reformists did not consider them objects of worship.

    The cathedral was mostly empty at this hour, with only a few priests cleaning the nave and benches for tomorrows morning prayers. Guards led us to stairs leading upward to the belltower. As we ascended, I picked up on the distant sound of a pleasant organ symphony. Whoever lived at the summit was a damn good musician.

    Only four people in the world know my secrets, Eris said as we climbed the stairs to the upper levels. The two of us, Lady Alexios and my confessor.

    I supposed even nuns needed someone to watch over them.

    Eventually we reached the entrance of a sr located right under the belfry. Two Penitent Ones stood watch over its doors. Both of the armored behemoths were smaller than Cortaner, but just as intimidating to look at. The fact that a few Penitent Oneseasily the most radical order inside the Arcane Abbeyapparently sided with the Reformists warned me that the movement enjoyed broad support inside the church. The Fatebinder could no longer afford to ignore it.

    Lady Eris, one of them said, his helmet turned in my direction. Who is this man?

    A very good friend of mine, and Prince Rnds ambassador to Walbourg, Eris replied with poise and grace. For a moment the naughty nun I was used to had been subsumed by an expert diplomat. I promised to introduce him to Selestine.

    One of the armored inquisitors moved inside the sr to inform his mistress while the other checked me for weapons. I handed over my dagger and belongings without resisting. Considering who they were protecting, I couldnt fault them for being careful.

    By the time the other Penitent One returned the organ song had ended. Lady Selestine consents to see you both, he said upon opening the doors. You may stay as long as you please.

    Thank you, I replied courteously as Eris and I were let through the doors. The Penitent Ones silently closed them behind us immediately afterward.

    The sr we walked into was rtively well-furnished, but humbler than what I would expect from these kinds of rooms. An enchanted brazier burned with smokeless me at its center next to a small canopied bed and a work table covered in books and parchments. The only window was open to let fresh air in. The ce housed a small organ with pipes ascending to the ceiling; its musician rose from her seat to greet us with a warm smile.

    Wee back, Eris, she said with a small, soothing voice. I see you brought a visitor?

    I had to admit, the sight of the woman gave me pause. Id met demons and beastkin, but never a human looking like the one in front of me. Her smooth skin was paler than snow, even more than the humble white robes she dressed in. Her cascading hair was a light shade of blue and bound by a small diadem of silver. Her eyes, meanwhile, showed a deep shade of crimson. She was thin too, so much I could see her cheekbones. A golden mark shone on her corbone; the very lozenge-shaped symbol of the Arcane Abbey itself alongside the Erebian numeral for the number <em>five</em>.

    Robin, let me introduce you to Selestine, the Priest of our age, Eris said. Selestine, this is Robin, the Merchant.

    I had guessed, the Priest replied with a small chuckle. She quickly studied me before taking my hands into her own. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Robin.

    Her fingers were warm to the touch; <em>unnaturally </em>so. I could sense the heat through my gloves. I might as well have touched an oven.

    Some might have found the woman graceful, even beautiful, but not I. Something about her ethereal appearance did not put me at ease. She felt <em>otherworldly</em>, for ack of a better term. Colmar himself seemed more human-like than she did.

    Still, I hid my unease behind a smile and returned the kind gesture. The feeling is mutual, Lady Selestine.

    No need to be so formal with me. We are all equals in the Goddess eyes. She let go of my hands and invited us to sit at her table. I do not have refreshments, but I can ask someone to fetch some if you want.

    I raised an eyebrow, slightly puzzled. You do not keep a jug of water or anything?

    Selestine shook her head. I do not need to drink.

    Because of your ss? I asked, probing for information.

    No, no. Selestine touched the mark on her corbone. My mark allows my voice to directly reach the Four Artifacts. Whereas a mans words may not often be heard among a cacophony of a thousand prayers, mine always are. It does not grant me any personal benefit.

    So as I suspected, she was not entirely human. It didnt change anything to meshe was a Hero first and foremostso I sat without pushing further.

    Some would say having the attention of four demigods is a great benefit in itself, Selestine, Eris mused as we gathered around the table. My Priest grew very frustrated when they stopped answering his prayers.

    Selestine widened at Eris and then back at me. When I showed little surprise, she quickly put two and two together.

    Youve told him the truth, she said.

    She has, I confirmed. Considering how Eris trusted her with her secrets, I suspected she and Selestine were old friends. The two of you go a long way back, dont you?

    We shared a convent long before our sses chose us, Selestine confirmed. Her smile showcased teeth whiter than chalk. We were as close as sisters.

    I was a terrible influence on her, Eris quipped. Or maybe she was a good influence on me. I could never tell.

    You give me too much credit, my friend, Selestine replied before turning to face me. If you have doubts, Robin, let me dispel them: I assure you that Eris attempt at redemption is genuine. She has my confidence and that of my aunt, the Fatebinder.

    If both the Arcane Abbey and the Reformists agree on one thing, it must be true, I half-joked. I trust her already, but its good to have another confirmation.

    Lady Selestine joined her hands together. My aunt and I do not see eye-to-eye on all matters, but that does not make us enemies. I hope we will achieve a consensus.

    I do wonder how a Priest and a Fatebinder found themselves on different sides of a religious argument, I said. There must be an interesting story behind that schism.

    There is one, Eris confirmed. It happened on the very night she received her mark too.

    Selestine nodded slightly and agreed to fulfill my curiosity. Back when I lived in Erebia, a thunderstorm raged above a vige near my convent, she exined. A lightning bolt struck the trees and started a wildfire, one that threatened to burn down thend.

    I could see what followed. So you petitioned the Four Artifacts for help.

    Selestine nodded sharply. The Windsword and the Seacup were willing to help while the Earthcoin remained neutral, but the Firewand disagreed. It wished for the fire to spread so that humans could build something new over it. It was only when I informed it that a set of priceless books would be destroyed that it agreed not to interfere.

    Eris looked away at this story. Unfortunately, it did not surprise me much. The Four Artifacts disputes were <em>infamous</em>.

    This is my power, Robin, if you can call it that. I can bring forth miracles. Selestine pondered her next words a few seconds before continuing her tale. The Four Artifacts oversee the flow of elemental essence that helps shape our world. The movement of air, the tremors in the earth, the spread of mes, the flow of water They are less individuals and more forces of nature that must be cated. They do not truly understand mortals, no more than we understand them.

    That is why they created the Fatebinder in the first ce, Eris said. Since they couldnt agree on how to deal with the Demon Ancestors, they delegated the ugly duty to a human.

    Do I detect a hint of bitterness in your voice? I asked.

    I <em>am </em>bitter. Eris sneered. Many tragedies could have been avoided if they had simply <em>paid attention</em>.

    The Four Artifacts are in constant opposition and rarely agree on anything, Selestine added. My role as the Priest is to serve as a diplomat between the Four Artifacts and mortals. If I pray for the Seacup to divert a river without the Firewands blessing, it will dry up thend in retaliation. If I wish to call upon the Windsword to bless rebels against a corrupt authority, I must cate the Earthcoin first, for it always stands on the side of order.

    You need a unanimous agreement from all Four Artifacts before you can get anything done, I guessed.

    A task more difficult than it may seem, Lord Merchant. Selestine let out a small sigh. The best I can do is convince one to act and the others to let it happen. Getting all four of them to cooperate on anything is near-impossible.

    It didnt surprise me. ording to the Scriptures, they had only ever cooperated three times: once when they helped the Goddess shape the world; when they assisted her in creating life; and when they forged the sses.

    Our sses are quite alike, Imented. We cannot do anything by ourselves, and we must barter for everything.

    I suddenly felt a great deal of sympathy for her. I understood her struggle very much. When her power worked, she could pull off miracles; but she could never force anything. She had to argue constantly to make any progress.

    In this case, my prayers were answered, Selestine said as she continued her tale. The Windsword and the Seacup summoned a downpour that put out the fire. There were no victims through no effort of its inhabitants.

    The scowl on her face made me wonder.

    What do you mean? I asked. They didnt try to save themselves?

    No, they did not. Selestine shook her head. The vigers did not fetch water or try to put out the fire through their own efforts. Instead they prayed for me to save them. I do not me them for seeking my help, but their inaction made me wonder if I had assisted them or held them back.

    I could see why it shook her faith. Whereas the Arcane Abbey <em>worshiped </em>the Heroes, the Reformists stopped at <em>respecting </em>them. Thest one I encountered in Snowdrift resented the fact I meddled in local politics.

    I already sympathized with the Reformists before, but this incident solidified my faith, Selestine exined. My aunt believes that people need to believe we Heroes are their saviors, so that our marks may garner more essence and be more effective at countering the Demon Ancestors. I understand her reasoning, but I do not agree with it. Encouraging people to worship us holds them back. Instead of solving this worlds problems, they pray for us to do it for them.

    We still cant stand aside while demons run rampant, I argued. I knew from experience that normal humans could do little when facing a monster like Dolganov or Fenrivos.

    Of course we cannot, Lady Selestine quickly confirmed. Do not misunderstand my words, Robin. I did not say we should do nothing. It is everyones duty to act for the betterment of others, and that includes us. However, we should encourage <em>everyone </em>to be heroes, even those who bear no marks.

    Eris shifted in her seat. Theres another element to consider, Robin. An issue none of us have found a solution to yet.

    I nced at her, my eyes lingering on the Wanderers mark on her cheek.

    The Devil of Greed survived your repentance, I quickly guessed. Their titles have be separate from their bearers, the same way our sses can pass on. Even if we defeat your old colleagues, they will return or find sessors.

    The Demon Ancestors derive their strength from the ills of the world, Robin, Eris confirmed. War, poverty, inequalities, sloth so long as our people cannot solve their own problems, the demons will never disappear.

    Hence why they do their best to spread chaos and evil, I replied. The Knots had a hand in almost all of this centurys disasters.

    They did and still do, Selestine replied with a sad, sorrowful smile. But few need a demons help to sin. Nobles possess the power of life and death overmoners. Humans force beastmen to live at the fringes of society, even though they arent that different from them at the end of the day. The Iremian Magocracy and the Shinkoku Empire terrorize weaker nations in their unquenchable thirst fornd and resources

    I mulled over her words. She had a point. Even if we won this current conflict by sealing the Demon Ancestors away, it wouldnt solve all the worlds ills. Quite the contrary. So long as these problems persisted, the Demon Ancestors would eventually return in one form or another. They had waited seven centuries to resurface. It would happen again down the line.

    However, I was not the kind to lose hope at the sight of a challenge.

    Fine, I said. We will defeat the Demon Ancestors the same way well save Snowdrift from its Blight.

    By making the world a better ce.

 Chapter Thirty-Four: The March of Progress

    Chapter Thirty-Four: The March of Progress

    As promised, Aiglemont presented himself at the manor at dawn.

    By then, Marika and Mr. Fronan had coborated to transform the metal fence surrounding the property into better-defended stone walls. It must have been surprising for the neighbors to wake up and find that fortifications had been magically raised overnight. If word of our true identities hadnt spread to half the city yet, it would soon.

    In any case, I summoned Marika and Mr. Fronan to the meeting with Aiglemont in order to discuss buying a supply of Alnd silk, only to learn that these two had already transformed the ground floors drawing room into a workshop. They didnt stay idle in my absence either.

    What is this? I asked them as I examined the strange devices littering the room. They ran the gamut from a fist-sized replica of the airship, a strange leather suit with a helmet bound to pouches by tubes, a suit of knightly armor, to a pack of clothes bound by a wooden frame.

    Oddest of all, and clearly thest thing these two had been working on before falling asleep from exhaustion, was a miniature replica of Snowdrift made entirely from cutlery. I was especially impressed by the ck Keep, which had been entirely constructed with spoons merged by Marikas power.

    Oh, Robin Marika greeted me with a yawn, her eyes ckened by exhaustion, her face still bearing the marks of the table on which she had slept. What hour is it?

    Seven in the morning, I said, much to her shock. The staff told me that you two spent twelve hours in this room. I was starting to wonder if youd decided to sleep in it.

    Time flew by so fast, Mr. Fronanmented. He appeared in better shape than Marika, although I did not fail to notice the ten empty tea cups at his side. Those were productive hours, I assure you.

    I can see that, Imented while studying the airship model. This one differed from the previous small boat design by its length and rigid, oval shape. Its fully constructed counterpart would probably rival battleships in size. Let me guess, you began working on the airship, only to get distracted somewhere along the line?

    Astute as ever, but somewhat inurate, Mr. Fronan replied with a guilty chuckle. I would say wepleted our design.

    Then we started considering ways to protect passengers in case the ship crashed, and explored a few new ideas, Marika said while waving a hand at their inventions. These are the results.

    And the Snowdrift replica? I asked her.

    Oh, that? Marika scoffed. We got bored halfway through, and Marwen asked me how Snowdrift looked from above.

    Marwen? I noted with a smile.

    When you spend a night building a citys replica with someone, you end up on a first-name basis with them. Marika crossed her arms and red at me. Its your fault, Robin.

    How so? I scoffed. I wasnt there.

    Your silliness has rubbed off on me, sheined. First, I indulge my son too much, and now I build city replicas that willst until dinnertime.

    Might I suggest a more productive use of it? I asked yfully. How about I go grab a <em>Board & Conquest</em> game, split the miniatures between us, and then challenge you over control of Snowdrift? This will let us test your models in true battle conditions.

    Marikaughed back, and my suggestion brought an amused smile to Mr. Fronans face.

    Game on, Marika said before yawning at me. But after I take a nap first.

    Can you stay up a little longer, please? I asked kindly. Ive found a merchant willing to supply us with Alnd silk.

    Mr. Fronans head perked up in interest. Alnd silk, you say?

    Fine, Marika said with a groan. But Ill need a stimnt.

    Ten minutes and a cup of coffeeter, the three of us weed Aiglemont to the drawing room. The beastkin arrived with the supply of candles I requested, including the one with Eris name on it.

    What are you going to do with all that wax? Marika asked me. My purchase dumbfounded her. Start a church?

    Ill use it all to run an experiment rted to the soundstone project, I replied, much to Mr. Fronans interest. I put Soraseo on the case.

    Lady Soraseo? Mr. Fronan asked with narrowed eyes. Forgive my impertinence, but she struck me more as a warrior than a scientist. I draw a nk at how she could contribute to the project.

    Youd be surprised, I replied with a smile. Come back to check on our progress in a few days. I hope to have a breakthrough to present to you by then.

    You certainly have my curiosity. Mr. Fronan focused back on Aiglemont. But enough digression. We have wasted enough of this young mans time.

    Worry not, Lord Fronan, it is an honor for me to deal with such an esteemed merchant, Aiglemont said before turning to me. I could tell he had been dying to ask me a certain question. Forgive me, Lord Waybright, but are you the Merchant perchance? I have heard rumors that they would represent the King of Archfrost in Walbourg.

    I am indeed, I said, while carefully avoiding any mention of Marika or Mr. Fronans own sses, just in case. I hope it wont cause any issues with our current agreement?

    Absolutely not. Aiglemont bowed in respect. I am flustered that such a great figure of the realms would agree to deal with a humble beastkin such as myself.

    Beastkin or human, I treat all my suppliers fairly, I promised. Now, let us discuss that silk purchase

    The rest of the discussion focused on the quantity we required, associated costs, and timelines of delivery. To my surprise, my associates only needed about two-hundred pounds of Alnd silk; extremely expensive, but nowhere near what I would expect from a balloon meant to support a warships worth of weight.

    Thats a lighter quantity than I expected, I whispered into Marikas ear while Mr. Fronan discussed with Aiglemont. I was thankful for it considering the price, but nheless surprised.

    We dont need silk for the <em>entire </em>envelope, only key parts of it, Marika whispered back. Well separate the balloon into variouspartments along the length. We can use cheaper materials for most of them, like essence-reinforced linen or goldbeater''s skin.

    Goldbeaters skin? I raised an eyebrow upon recognizing the term. Cattle intestines?

    Have you seen how a cow farts, Robin? Marika smirked at me. They can hold a <em>lot </em>of gas.

    Ill offer a silent prayer to all the cows that will need to die for us to conquer the sky, I mumbled. Their sacrifice will be long remembered.

    Since you ask for unprocessed silk in bulk, I believe I can obtain the quantity you seek for five hundred silver per pound, Aiglemont finally said. One hundred thousand silver for the entire shipment.

    Which tranted to four-thousand gold coins ording to the current exchange rates; a sum equaling a fifth of the Brynslow administrations yearly revenue prior to my reforms. Quite pricey. And that would be just for a <em>part </em>of the airships envelope.

    Even with the funding wed secured, the costs we could keep down, and our sses powers to call upon, building aplete airship would be a make-or-break project for the Frostfox Company, but I deeply believed in it. Conquering the sky would not only change trade as we knew it; it would change the <em>world</em>.

    It would be up to me to fulfill that lofty ambition while managing our expenses.

    My power lets me magically transport objects from afar shortly after a contracts signature, I informed Aiglemont. If you have stocks of unprocessed silk avable, I can bring it to Walbourg in a short time.

    Incredible, Aiglemont muttered to himself. That would erase the shipping cost. I would need to send a letter to my partners first, however. If they see our goods vanish out of thin air, they will cry theft.

    Of course, of course, I reassured him before going on the offensive. Additionally, I must mention that we intend to use this silk for a public project that will provide excellent publicity for the solidity and quality of Alnd silk to all of Archfrost and beyond. It would be in your suppliers interest to make us a good offer

    After a vigorous negotiation, I managed to drive down the price to three thousand and six hundred for two hundred pounds of Alnd silk. Aiglemont informed us he would need to talk with his suppliers first before confirming the sale, which was fair; he promised to return in a few days time to either confirm or cancel the deal. We bade him goodbye and promised to wait eagerly for his answer.

    I know Im the one who came up with the idea of an airship in the first ce, Robin, but are you sure about this purchase? Marika asked us once servants escorted Aiglemont away. Itll cost a fortune.

    Ill only go for it if we cant produce the silk ourselves, I replied, which I doubted was in the cards. Do you think Colmars power could produce simr material?

    No, Marika conceded. The monarchs use secret witchcrafting processes to refine their silk, and Colmar cant copy those. We <em>could </em>use cheaper material, but it would increase the risks.

    I would not rmend it, Mr. Fronan noted grimly. A ships crew might swim to safety if it sinks, but a falling airship risks killing everyone onboard.

    Agreed, and well need the test run to go smoothly to secure further investments, I said. The way I see it, Illmission Colmar to transmute what material he can produce back in Snowdrift, transport it to a ce where we can process it with the right contracts, and then purchase what his power cant make.

    Mypany has offices in Walbourg, including warehouses, where we can assemble pieces and workers to assist in the ships construction, Mr. Fronan reminded us. Between your power and Marikas, we could build the new airship prototype in a moons turn.

    Just in time for the Estate-Generals conclusion, I guessed after running some quick calculus in my head. We could fly it back to the capital for our return trip as a test run.

    That would definitely leave an impression, Marika conceded. Would it be wise to assemble it in Walbourg? What if the local government tries to seize it?

    They wont, I reassured her. And if they tried, I would use my power to transport the ship to safety. Besides, I intend to approach Griselda as a potential investor. Even if we settle on a peace agreement, Archfrost and Walbourg need to build more economic ties to grow closer.

    A wise move, Mr. Fronanmented. The airship project could be a symbol of the countrys reconciliation. Common projects build a sense of shared purpose.

    That was my hope. I hoped to secure trade agreements to supplement the peace treaty. People were less likely to go to war with their economic partners.

    How about you show me what other wonders you came up with? I asked these two after ncing at their creations. Im dying to know.

    Uh, maybeter? Marika asked with a tired grumble. I need a nap first.

    I must go visit my offices too, Mr. Fronan informed me. I should be back by the afternoon.

    Fine, fine. I chuckled. I can wait.

    I will be on my way then. Mr. Fronan took his leave after shaking hands with us. Rest well, Marika.

    Im pleased to see you two get along, I informed Marika after we split up and moved upstairs. I only had to follow the song of Soraseos biwa echoing in the corridors to find her room; I had a wax delivery to make.

    Hes very pleasantpany, Marika said as we climbed the stairs together.

    I immediately noticed her taking the wrong turn as she followed me. I thought your room was in the western wing?

    Im going to visit Soraseo too, she replied. Gonna ask her for a power massage.

    I raised an eyebrow. A power massage?

    She has a technique where she hits your nerves and knocks you out cold. I think she calls them pressure points or something like that? It puts you in a deep sleep immediately. You can recover a full nights worth of it in hours. Marika stifled augh. You didnt know?

    No, I did not, I replied. I never asked either. I could also sell off your exhaustion to someone, if you prefer a quicker solution.

    Pfft, you cant solve all your problems with magic, Robin, Marika replied with a yful wink. Damn it, I <em>did </em>rub off on her. You should try more natural solutions.

    You can take a punch to the face and sleep soundly too, I joked back as we reached and knocked on the door of Soraseos room. Our friend interrupted her song just long enough to invite us in.

    As expected from her, Soraseos chambers were a model of grace and organization. Our friend had used her time to lower her personal table closer to the ground by cutting its legs, removing the chairs, and setting a wide carpet on which to sit. Only the bed remained untouched.

    I rarely saw Soraseo without her armor, but she apparently feltfortable enough in the manor to y the biwa in a garment simr to the one she wore at the Snowdrift Ball: an indigo, long-sleeved cotton bathrobe bound by a sash, alongside a pair of socks and sandals.

    Good morning, Soraseo, Marika greeted her. You look lovely.

    Those are new? I asked, pointing at the robes.

    Marika wove it for me with her power, Soraseo replied while pinching her biwas strings. Two soundstones sitting on the table in between a teapot and some cups recorded her melodies for posteritys sake. Greetings, my friends.

    So thats what you were doing up here? Marika said upon examining the two soundstones. Youre recording your countrys songs?

    A year would not be enough to y them all, Soraseo replied humbly. I have learned only a few. I should finish by nightfall.

    A days worth of your songs are a priceless gift to me, Iplimented her. Doubly so since Soraseo was an excellent yer. How do you find the soundstones?

    They are very sensible <em>sensitive</em>? Soraseo nodded to herself. They listen to every sound. I must y in solitude so as not to taint the melody.

    Marika shifted ufortably. Do you want us to leave or

    No need, Soraseo reassured her. I was <em>testing </em>the sound? Yes, testing. Robin asked me to.

    Is that why you use two of them? Marika asked. Topare?

    No, the second soundstone is for Beni, I replied, much to Marikas surprise. You thought I would buy Eris a gift and not get one for him? You know how much he loves witchcrafting.

    He would appreciate the gift for sure, Marika said warmly. I could tell she appreciated the small kindness. Anyway, how are you testing the soundstones exactly?

    You see, Mr. Fronan found a very ingenious method to record sound, I exined to Marika. The soundstones work by soaking up variations in wind essence, then tranting it into a runguage on its surface. Once a sound is recorded, it can then rey it by producing its own wind and vibrations.

    Its a marvel of witchcrafting, Marika muttered. She didnt hide her amazement. Marwen truly is a genius.

    Unfortunately soundstone can only hold limited information, must y a record from start to finish, and is quite expensive, I continued. Ive been trying to think this through, and I believe that this innovations value is in recording and tranting information into sound form, not as a repository. The soundstones don''t have to <em>keep </em>the knowledge. It only needs to record and read it.

    Ah, I get it! Marika smirked ear to ear. You wish to record the runguage on wax, then find a way for the soundstone to read them! Youll treat the soundstones as portable libraries and store the content on another medium!

    Pretty much, I confirmed before presenting Soraseo with my candle bounty. I figured that since sound is the movement of air, Soraseos ss would give her insight into the process.

    I do have understanding now, Soraseo confirmed. She began to study one of the shaved candles, tracing thin lines along its surface with her nail. A song is a wave.

    I wondered what she meant until I studied the candle. The lines she traced followed an oscition pattern, some linesrger, others deeper, all of them interwoven. My mind couldnt interpret these movements into sounds, but I trusted Soraseos expertise.

    Interesting, I said. Do you think we could connect the soundstones to the candle with, say, a needle?

    Soraseo frowned in confusion. A needle?

    Just bouncing ideas around, I said. Those lines of yours are awfully thin. Youll need a very sensitive device to write them down.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Smart choice to use wax, Marikamented as she studied Soraseos inscriptions. Soft enough to inscribe the vibrations, durable, and easy to reuse by shaving down the surface.

    Thats my n, I confirmed with a sharp nod. If we can create an apparatus that connects the soundstones to a wax cylinder, then the former could record and sing information in real time.

    Id be happy to help you build one, Robin after my nap. Marika turned to Soraseo. Mind giving me a massage again?

    I would be happy to, Soraseo replied. How long?

    How long? I repeated, now deeply curious. You can control the length of sleep?

    I can make the sleepst many hours, Soraseo exined calmly. Or forever.

    How ominous. I politely declined the proposition, but watched Marika undergo the procedure out of curiosity. Soraseoy her friend on her bedclearly, she didnt mind letting a friend use itjoined her index and middle fingers together, then quickly jammed them at points along Marikas spine. She moved so fast that my eyes struggled to follow.

    The result was spectacr. Marika fell asleep in a seconds time, and so deeply that she didnt react when I snapped my fingers by her ear.

    How long have you been doing this? I asked Soraseo. I felt like Id stumbled on a secret world hidden from me.

    Many weeks, she replied with a hint of amusement at my cluelessness. You should try one day.

    I will, I replied with a shrug. Anyway, I must go write boring documents.

    You can stay if you want to work here, Robin, Soraseo proposed. Music sharpens the focus, and I have tea.

    My presence wont bother you?

    Soraseo smiled with regal dignity. I would appreciate yourpany.

    When she put it this way, how could I refuse her invitation? A few minutester I returned with quills and paper, then started working to the soothing tune of Soraseos biwa and Marikas asional snoring. Working while sitting on a carpet was a novel experience. Deeply ufortable at first, until I got used to it after a few hours.

    Soraseo was right though. Her music did help me focus on the mind-numbing task of summarizing my exchanges with Duchess Griselda in paper form, alongside a few suggestions Selestine had provided at our meeting yesterday. I hoped to secure her support and that of the Reformists in the peace process with a few well-chosen concessions.

    I do wonder why you got rid of the chairs, I told Soraseo as she took a break from ying.

    I have apologies for the amodations. Soraseo poured three cups of tea; I assumed it meant Marika would wake up soon. Chairs take space and restrict movement. Our inds are small, but our people are many.

    I would love to visit the Shinkoku one day, I said. The ce sounded about as exotic as the Fire Inds in its own way.

    Me too, I heard Marika mutter from the bed. She stretched beneath the bedsheet, fully rested. They say the best weapon exorcists live there. Would be nice topare techniques.

    Mynds are beautiful, Soraseo conceded with a sigh. She didnt say anything else, nor did she need to. Her sadness was clear for all to see.

    I dont know the exact details of your banishment, I said, though I did my suspicions. However, you werent the Monk then, nor did you have friends among the Heroes. Any sane government would reassess your case considering these circumstances.

    Soraseo brought her teacup to her lips with a sorrowful look. I was told to return with Mother, or not at all.

    My stomach lurched. A grim picture of the situation quickly formed in my mind. Soraseo identally killed her mother, the Shinkokus empress, in circumstances that still escaped me and that my friend deeply regretted. In response, her father banished her and gave her an impossible task: to revive the very person shed murdered.

    Thats why you want to reach the Deadgate: to bring her back, I surmised. Soraseo confirmed my supposition with a sharp look. You know that even if you reach it, that ce only allows us to contact the dead? It wont bring her back.

    I have awareness. I I am aware. Soraseo gathered her breath and mustered all her dignity. I have found peace with it. All I want now is to apologize.

    Marika, who had fully woken up, quickly moved to sit next to Soraseo and took her hand into her own. Youll return home one day, she said warmly. And well find a way to reach that gate, if thats what you need. Dont torture yourself over it.

    I am not harming myself, Soraseo countered without pushing Marika away. I thank you nheless.

    I was about to suggest we visit the markets to change the subject when a familiar cloud of smoke popped up next to me.

    My, you all look so gloomy, Erisined. My favorite nun casually dropped a bag full of scrolls and letters onto the floor. Has our Druid died again while I was away?

    Youre mean, I chided her before inviting her to sit.

    Eris, good to see you again. Marika quickly exchanged a quick hug with the neer. My poor girl, you look exhausted.

    A Wanderers lot is suffering, Eris replied with a hand on her chest while Soraseo kindly went to grab a new teacup from among her belongings to serve her. Thankfully, those headaches might start sorting themselves out. I bring good news.

    My head perked up in interest. For once?

    Indeed! Eris grinned as Soraseo poured her tea. The capital has fallen this morning. The Siege of Whitethrone is over.

    Rnd won? Marika asked while I mulled over the consequences. I never doubted his eventual victory; I only feared its potential consequences.

    The royal army woke up one day to find Whitethrones garrison hauling the Regent in chains and throwing him at Rnds feet, Eris confirmed. They werent keen on dying for a doomed cause, I suppose.

    Wise of them, I said while sipping my tea. What a delicious Seukaian blend. And Rnd? How is he handling his victory?

    Pretty well. Eris shrugged her shoulders. Rnd has agreed to an amnesty for those who turned their cloak for him. Meanwhile, his uncle and closest supporters will be tried and probably executed.

    Good, I said. I couldnt fault Rnd for executing the leader of an insurrection, even a family member. I was reassured he at least agreed to show mercy to those who returned to his side instead of cutting off heads left and right. It seemed Cortaner managed to keep him in check. Hes learning.

    He has a good teacher, Eris mused. I heard his fianc convinced him to show mercy.

    Therese will make a good queen, I said. I took the news as a good sign. Even if Rnd did not love his future wife, he at least seemed to follow my advice to befriend and cooperate with her. The civil war has ended before it could truly begin.

    If you can convince Walbourg and Archfrost to get along, at least. Eris peeked over my papers. Is that what I think it is?

    It is, I replied with the same conspiratory tone. Heres the super secret treaty project I would need you to deliver to Rnd.

    The drafts spirit was simple, its letterplex. In short, Rnd would agree to the formation of a parliamentary body for the Kingdom of Archfrost meant to represent the interests of its people. The organization would include two chambers, one to represent the nobles and the Kingdoms religious orders, the other to represent the cities and peasantry, and for both to gain oversight over the realms taxes and finances. This should solve the issues that caused the original civil war by letting the taxpayers gain a voice in the process.

    In return, Walbourg would agree to rejoin the Kingdom. Its Estate-Generals would merge with the new parliament, the duchess and her supporters would swear allegiance to Archfrosts monarchy, and receive amnesty for their past transgressions.

    This agreements finer details would be backed by my power. The signatories would sell away their institutions ability to wage war on one another, thus preventing the monarchy and the parliaments representatives from ever engaging in a civil war again.

    The nobles would no doubt believe that this arrangement favored them. After all, they would gain the ability to check the monarchs decisions. Who cared if a fewmoners and cities could participate in the assembly too? Like all people who had inherited power rather than earned it, I suspected most well-born people in Archfrost expected to keep it forever.

    But I saw further into the future. Once themon people had tasted power, they would always want more; and since they represented the majority of people, they would slowly turn to their legitors for leadership rather than their noble overlords. I had left opportunities for the parliament and the monarchy to modify election rules through consensus. I expected the representative chambers to slowly gain power as the decades and centuries passed.

    This would take time. Unlike the Rivend Federation, Archfrost didnt yet have a robust merchant ss who could challenge the nobles for leadership. It would only develop one and other political alternatives if peacested.

    <em>If.</em>

    I need Rnd to at least agree with the treatys general guidelines before I can push it to Walbourgs leadership, I told Eris. If he does, then I can work out the details.

    Let me take a look. Eris snatched my draft up in one fell swoop. She chuckled several times as she read it. Seems quite bold, but your ship is swimming towards a big pointed reef.

    I sighed, knowing the problem. Religion.

    I understood the issue very well. I had to surrender a Reformist to the Arcane Abbeys own courts early in my career in Snowdrift. The Kingdom of Archfrosts monarchy derived its legitimacy from the Arcane Abbey, which had crowned the first king centuries ago and remained the states religion ever since. The pro-Reformist Walbourg would not ept a deal that involved recognizing the Abbeys primacy over them.

    I was currently hoping to hammer out apromise where the Kingdom of Archfrost would recognize the Arcane Abbey as the religion of most of its citizensnot the state itselfwhile still recognizing the rights of other cults to practice their faith. That was the only agreement I could find that the two sides could agree upon, but it would require convincing the leaders.

    A vast issue, Marika mentioned warily. How are discussions going on that front?

    Could be worse, Eris conceded. The western Reformists are likely to dere their independence from the Arcane Abbey soon, with the Priest as their figurehead. I am desperately trying to avoid a brutal schism.

    But the split is inevitable, Soraseo surmised.

    At this point? Yes, it is. Eris let out a heavy sigh. There are bad and good divorces. Im hoping for an amicable one.

    Marikas jaw tightened at the mention of divorce, but she didntment on it.

    That draft is quite the hefty document, handsome, Erisined after rolling up my scroll. Do I look like a pack mule to you?

    Sorry, its too heavy for a messenger bird, I joked before presenting her with her candle gift. I hope this will make up for the hassle.

    Do you think you can buy my indulgence, Robin? Eris epted my bribe by pecking me on the cheek, a gesture that amused our fellow Heroes. Well, youre right.

    Good to know, I joked back before making a swift move. Are you busy tonight?

    I am always busy, handsome. Eris expression softened slightly, and disappointment sank in my heart. I must return to Erebia and report to Lady Alexios for now. I dont know when Ille back.

    My jaw tightened. Marikas eyes moved from Eris to me, while Soraseo appeared slightly concerned.

    I see, I said, mostly because there was nothing more to say for now.

    Ill try to pay you a visit shortly. Eris searched inside her bag and tossed us some documents. Oh, I almost forgot. Ive got mail for each of you.

    I raised an eyebrow upon checking mine. Id received two letters, one from ire, the other from Colmar. Meanwhile, Marika eagerly read a message from her son. Soraseos mail included a scroll bound by pink wax, though I did not recognize the petal-shaped seal.

    I must go now, Eris said after rising to her feet. Dont burn the city down while Im gone, please. I need a vacation.

    I cant promise anything, I replied yfully as I watched her teleport away. <em>And like a burst of wind, she always leaves a void after she departs.</em>

    I quickly read over my correspondence, starting with ire, whom I feared for the safety of since the debacle with her father. Thankfully, she was well. She reported a stark increase in beastmen encampments beyond the northern border, which supported the looming risk of an invasion, but Florence remained in custody and our reforms in Snowdrift breathed new life into the city. No signs of her father either.

    <em>I have given thought to the Brynslow legacy,</em> I read in my mind. <em>I believe I have reached a conclusion. I cannot tell yet if it is the correct one, and I cannot select this path until peace returns to Archfrost but it is the path I intend to walk. I shall tell you more once we meet again.</em>

    <em>Always the curt one, ire,</em> I mused. I was happy she had reached a conclusion about her family history, whatever it might be. Colmars letter was more straightforward, reporting on his observations on Snowdrifts Blight and the continued delivery of essence-charged runestones from the Mage. He also asked for input on the airships project development. <em>Hell be pleased.</em>

    How strange. I should feel happy reading these letters. After months of hard work, Snowdrift had bounced back from declinein spite of the simmering civil war. Once we destroyed the Blight, and if we managed to secure asting peace in Archfrost, my home city wouldnt need my help anymore. It would manage without me.

    I should be happy to know that mymunity would thrive on its own. Id worked tirelessly to ensure it. So why did I feel morose rather than triumphant?

    Marikaughed over her letter, so at least one of us rejoiced.

    Let me guess, I said after setting aside my own letters. After spending too much time at the shipyard, Beni has decided to be a pirate.

    Almost, Marika replied with a giggle. Now that he knows Im working on a flying machine, hes wondering when we can be <em>sky </em>pirates.

    We? I chuckled at the idea of robbing birds. Does that include poorw-abiding me?

    Of course it does. Youre his big brother figure. Marika folded the letter, but proved unable to suppress herughs. He really wants to learn wind magic now.

    We would make a fearsome pirate crew, I joked. Colmar could be our leg-sawing doctor, you the daring captain, and I the foul-mouthed treasurer.

    Maybe. Marika turned to Soraseo. Would you like to be my fearsome first mate?

    The joke washed over Soraseo like water on a smooth stone. I doubted she even heard us. Her eyes fixated on her scrolls contents with a sharp, absolute focus that sent chills down my spine. Her skin had turned paler than chalk.

    Not a good sign.

    Seo? Marika frowned, her joy turning to concern. Seo, whats wrong?

    Soraseo folded the scroll with hollow eyes. The sight immediately raised rm bells in my head. Id only seen her so shaken once; the night after Belgoroth viciously taunted her about her mothers murder.

    Soraseo, whats going on? I asked her, my hand immediately reaching for her shoulder. Tell us.

    I I would like to be alone for now, Soraseo said, her voice breaking. Can you forgive me for a moment?

    Something <em>was </em>wrong.

    Marika and I exchanged a worried nce. From the look in her eyes, she wanted to stay, but I simply shook my head. I understood Soraseo. She was the kind of person who needed to meditate in solitude to clear her mind. I couldnt say what spooked her so harshly, but if she asked for a moment to breathe, then she <em>deeply </em>needed some space.

    Sure, I said. Were here if you need us. <em>When </em>you need us.

    Welle checkter, Marika promised. Very soon.

    Soraseo did not bother to answer us. Her hands held onto the folded scroll as if it were her sword, her gaze cast down as if trying to peer into the earths bowels. She didnt reach for her instrument either like she often did. Neither Marika nor I lingered much.

    What happened? Marika asked me after we closed the rooms door behind us. Did you catch a glimpse of the message?

    No, but for her to react like this it must involve the Shinkoku. I could muster a guess. Another family loss perhaps.

    She mentioned her father, Marika muttered. Does she have siblings?

    That seemed likely to me. Verni called her the First Princess, which implies there are others.

    I hope its not too bad. Marika clenched her jaw, her hand moving to scratch the back of her head. But

    But youre not that naive, I guessed.

    Marika shook her head sadly. There were few feelings worse than feeling concern for a friend, but being unable to reach out to them. For now, we could only wait for Soraseo to gather her thoughts.

    You said you would show me your inventions, I told Marika. It sounded as good a distraction as any.

    Yeah, Marika replied. She was just as eager as I was to change the subject. Yeah, I did promise you that.

    We climbed back down to the drawing room, both of us doing our best to think of more productive matters. As it turned out, Marika and Mr. Fronan had considered a few ways to protect an airships crew in case of trouble. Her first idea had been to bind a pack of cloth to a light wooden frame that would catch the air, creating resistance and allowing a person to descend slowly from a great height. The idea was ingenious, but I would add a harness to it for added safety.

    That one I came up with on my own, Marika said as she presented me with a leather suit with a metal helmet and tubes. ording to Marwen, after a while the change in atmospheric pressure prevents people from breathing correctly, so I developed packs that can hold fresh air while limiting buoyancy. The system would allow the crew to exit the airship safely in dangerous conditions and do repairs while in flight.

    Interesting, I muttered. I immediately considered another environment in which that kind of suit might help. How about underwater?

    Huh? Marika elegantly grunted.

    Can your suit work underwater? I asked her. Remember how the beastkin managed to blindside us by hiding within the river? Underwater scouts would let us avoid a simr ambush. Seems to me that your suit would work just as well underwater.

    You might be onto something. Marika put her hands on her waist, her eyes shining with hope. You believe I could sell this?

    You could, once you reinforce the design to deal with deep water pressure, I suggested. The perks of buying the skills of diving fishermen. It would allow explorers to gather material deep under the surface. Maybe open up new economic opportunities.

    Marika smiled ear to ear. She nced at me for a moment, her cheeks stark red, then focused back on the suit.

    Come on, say it, I teased her. Youre clearly dying topliment me and too embarrassed to try.

    Dont take it the wrong way, Robin, but the first time we met I was highly suspicious of you. Marika focused on the suit design with a wide, unwavering smirk. Your smooth-talker charm reminded me a bit too much of Wills.

    I figured as much. I hope I left a better second impression.

    You did, once I realized that you always <em>mean </em>it when youpliment someone. Marika traced a line over the suits tube with her hand. I asked you if <em>I </em>could sell this. Will would have answered that <em>we </em>could. You? You said I could be fine if I decided to market it on my own.

    You would. I have faith in you. Since the moment we met. I mean, I would love to help you mass-produce this wonder, but its your invention. Youre entitled to profit from it.

    Thats the thing. The thought of creating my own stuff wouldnt have entered my mind two years ago. I always went along with whatever Will wanted. Her eyes moved to herst invention, a suit of knightly armor. I still am, in a way.

    I raised an eyebrow and then raised the armors visor. I found myself staring at wood gears and other mechanical contraptions within. This suit was never meant to be worn.

    A golem, I said. I immediately guessed what she had in mind. You tried to make a golem.

    Marika nodded shyly. Its gonna sound stupid, Robin.

    It wont, I reassured her. I wont judge either way.

    Thanks. Marika crossed her arms. I want to beat Will at his own game. To prove I could do better, and create a golem that doesnt require screaming souls to walk around.

    You dont have to prove anything to anyone, I argued. Especially not to him.

    Youre sweet, Robin, but youre also wrong. I need to prove something. To <em>myself</em>. Marika shrugged her shoulders. Thats why I want to settle things with Will for good. So I can tell myself that Beni and I never needed him. Childish as it sounds, I want to prove that I was too good for him.

    You <em>were </em>too good for him, I insisted. He builds weapons for a demon, youre building a brighter future for everyone.

    Marika chuckled in embarrassment, her face now about as red as her hair. I found the sight highly amusing.

    Stopplimenting me, Robin, she begged me. I cant handlepliments.

    But deep down, you like them, I teased her. So get used to it.

    I swear to the Goddess, Ill find a way to shame you too. Marika snorted. How are things going with Eris, by the way?

    What a subtle attempt at changing the subject. Itsplicated.

    Marika stifled augh. It always is with you.

    Ive got a confession to make, Marika. I gathered my breath and let go of a deep secret consuming me from the inside. I <em>love </em>women.

    Now she failed to hold back herughter. Yes, Ive noticed.

    I love flirting with them, I love kissing them, and I love carrying them to bed, I said shamelessly before letting out a sigh. But theres something that brings me more joy, and thats seeing someones face next to me when I wake up in the morning.

    Yeah. Marika avoided my gaze. I see what you mean.

    When theres someone next to me, a partner that has my back, I feel I can do <em>anything</em>. I shook my head in remembrance. I thought I had it with Mersie back in the day. That sense ofpletion.

    Funny. I thought I had the same thing with Will. Marika shook her head. But in the end, I never truly knew him.

    Neither did I know Mersie. I counted myself lucky that she never tried to murder me at least. Eris has her own issues. She can hardly trust herself, let alone me.

    I figured. Marika raised an eyebrow at me. So the two of you will just stay <em>very good friends</em>?

    I scoffed. The more I heard that expression, the less amusing it became.

    For now at least, I conceded. Maybe itll be more one day. I assume Ill <em>eventually </em>find a steady partner, whether its Eris or someone else.

    Im not so sure thats a case of bad luck, Robin, Marika replied. Truth be told, I dont think that you stumble on issues when ites to troubled women. I suspect youre attracted to troubled women <em>because </em>they have issues.

    My first instinct was tough off at her words, but for some reason they left me a little shaken. I mulled over Marikas point. It was true that I tended to gravitate towards women with problems of their own. I tried to think of a past girlfriend who had been entirely well-adjusted and came up short.

    Every time you stumble on a problem, you throw yourself at it, Marika insisted. Maybe you get involved with people like Mersie or Eris for the same reason you gave your all to restore Snowdrift: because deep down you think you can fix them?

    Fix? Come to think of it, the thought ofpleting Snowdrifts reconstruction did not fill me with as much happiness as I would expect. Id derived more joy from the process of oveing the challenges thrown our way than sess itself. Maybe Marika was onto something

    What do you suggest then? I asked, genuinely curious. That I should aim for someone more stable to settle down with?

    Dont settle down yet, Marika replied, much to my amusement. Youre too young for it.

    You were my age when you did, I pointed out.

    I dont regret settling down and having Beni. Hes the best thing that happened to me. But Marika scratched her hair. I often wonder how my life would have gone had I spent a few years fooling around.

    You can still try, I teased her. Youre young too.

    Im thirty and with a son, Robin, Marika replied dismissively. Im way past that stage.

    Beni is on the other side of the country, and well only stay in this city for a few weeks, I countered with a mischievous wink. If you want to engage in a secret tryst with a dashing young aristocrat during our stay, Ill keep your secret. What happens in Walbourg <em>stays </em>in Walbourg.

    You wont fluster me so easily, Robin. Still, my suggestion brought a smile to her lips. But if youre serious about this binding pact, I wouldnt mind the two of us hitting a tavern one night. I cant stand noble balls.

    Anytime, Marika.

    Marikas smile faded away. More seriously Robin, I settled down with Will much too early, she confessed. And because I did not have enough experience, I stayed blind to warning signs I should have noticed much earlier. Dont jump into the first rtionship you think willst.

    I will keep that in mind, I replied.

    I wouldnt give up on Eris either, Marika concluded. I dont think its as hopeless as you fear. The two of you I cant properly exin, but I feel theres a unique spark between you. A special connection none of us have.

    If only she knew.

 Chapter Thirty-Five: Berserker Soul

    Chapter Thirty-Five: Berserker Soul

    No, Selestine said.

    I shifted in my seat and exchanged a nce with Duchess Griselda.

    No? I repeated, slightly annoyed.

    I will not sign these ords as the representative of the Reformists, because our movement has no head, Selestine exined. Reformist churches are interdependent, Lord Merchant. They share donations and coborate while remaining self-governed. The signature of one does not bind the others.

    I suppressed a sigh of annoyance. Duchess Griselda had invited me and Selestine to her castle for another round of negotiations over the Walbourg-Archfrost peace treaty draft. I would rather have stayed at the manor to helpfort Soraseomy friend hadnt left her room since she received that fateful message, which worried me greatlybut duty called.

    The meeting had started out well. Duchess Griselda mostly supported my treaty draft and agreed to represent it at the Estates-General; which left only the question of securing Reformist support for the treaty.

    Unfortunately, Selestine proved more stubborn than expected.

    I admit I am confused, Lady Selestine, Griselda said. I was under the impression that you negotiated with the Arcane Abbey on behalf of the western Reformist movement.

    Hundreds of Reformist churches gave me a mandate to solve their disagreement with the Arcane Abbey, Selestine replied. This is a purely theological conflict. Signing your treaty, meanwhile, would mean involving ourselves in political matters. Conting faith and politics is exactly the kind of behavior our movement criticizes. I do not intend to be a second Fatebinder, Lady Griselda, nor to create a new Arcane Abbey. It is not my ce to tell people how they should live their lives.

    You dont have a choice in that, I countered. Youre the Priest and a Reformist icon. No matter your intentions, many people <em>will </em>take your words as doctrine. If you arent upfront, then you will allow others to interpret them to suit their own agenda.

    Then let me be frank. Selestine cleared her throat. I believe all forms of belief should be respected, so long as they do not infringe on the good of others, and that matters of faith should be clearly separate from matters of state.

    An idealistic approach, but one with severe limitations. I immediately asked, Would you ept cults dedicated to the Demon Ancestors then?

    I would, if they did not harm anyone. Selestine smiled thinly. I understand a pacifist Church of Belgoroth would be something of an oxymoron, Lord Merchant, but everyone should be free to worship at the altar of their choice. We should not punish <em>beliefs</em>, only <em>practices</em>.

    You possess an interesting approach to religion, Ill admit it. Albeit one I found frighteningly naive. However, there are beliefs that are harmful by themselves. If priests say that this race of man is inferior to another, that loving a certain kind of people is wrong, then it will foster violence even if those same priests do not carry the knife themselves.

    But who can say which belief is eptable? All of us are prisoners of our little world. Selestine shook her head. Battles of beliefs must be won with words and arguments Robin. Violence is legitimate when used in the defense of yourself and others, but it should never be the first resort.

    Some souls are born deaf to reason, Selestine. You couldnt negotiate with the likes of the Knots. You cant be tolerant of the intolerant.

    We are digressing, Duchess Griselda cut in. Lord Robin raises an important question: do you support this agreement?

    I do, Selestine confirmed. But I support it as a person, not as a spokeswoman for the Reformists. You are asking me to sign it as head of the movement, which I am not.

    I saw an opportunity and pounced on it. Would you support it as the Priest?

    Selestine frowned slightly at me. What difference would that make?

    Archfrosts first king was a Priest crowned by the Fatebinder, I reminded her. I supposed that since she came from Erebia, that particr tidbit of Archfrostian history escaped her. To have the current Priest sign thispromise would give weight to both the royal familys suzerainty over Archfrost and legitimacy to its future parliament.

    Moreover, I knew that even if Selestine didnt sign it as head of the Reformist movement, her own public support for the ords would give it weight among her supporters. Since Archfrosts royalty derived its legitimacy from the Arcane Abbey, they needed reassurance that their own faith wouldnt be suppressed upon reintegrating into the kingdom. Having Selestine approve of the agreement should convince most of them of our goodwill.

    I do not wish to bind future Priests to my decisions, Selestine insisted. This treaty is an undeniable step forward, but who can say if future generations wont go farther? You tried to find a middle ground by respecting religious freedom while calling the Arcane Abbey the <em>faith of the majority of Archfrosts people,</em> but how long will that assertionst? Decades? A century?

    I have already taken that into ount, I said before reading some of the uses. Title Sixteen, Article Eighty-Nine. The current text may be subjected to revision through procedures detailed in articles Ny to Ny-Nine

    Both Duchess Griselda and Lady Selestine listened with attention as I reviewed the methods that would allow for a modification of the treaty: either a vote by two-thirds of both chambersbined and with the kings approval, or through the direct consultation of the entire poption of the united kingdom. Duchess Griselda didnt voice any opposition to the measure, since either solution would de facto require Walbourgs votes.

    Selestines expression grew more thoughtful the further I read. She was a Hero, not a zealot. I didnt fault her for trying to stand by her principles. She wanted faith and politics to be separated. I respected her position. One day, we might even make it a reality.

    However, like it or not, state decisions did influence faith and vice-versa. This treaty wouldnt just ensure peace between Archfrost and Walbourg; it would also legalize freedom of religion throughout the entire kingdom.

    Lady Selestine, let me be blunt, I said. I understand your refusal topromise on what you believe in, but there is a very strong chance that these ords wont pass through Walbourgs Estates-General without your assistance. Prolonged conflict between Walbourg and Archfrost will serve no one but the Knots.

    If we make it easy to vite principles, Lord Merchant, then what value do they have? Selestine countered. Still, her expression softened slightly. She was wise enough to understand we all meant well. I must meditate and consult the other members of my movement for advice first. This treaty should be agreeable enough if I am allowed to sign as the current Priest without binding my sessors.

    That should be easy enough, Duchess Griselda conceded before turning to face me. What of the future King Rnd? Any news from him yet?

    I have sent him the draft and now await his answer, I replied. Eris should hopefully return with Rnds validation in theing days. I am confident he will agree with most of the treaty.

    The Devil of Greed is in the details, as they say. Duchess Griselda intertwined her fingers. If Rnd does agree with the proposal, I believe we can secure a favorable vote at the Estates-General. My barons will follow my and Lady Selestines lead.

    I would have allowed myself a sigh of relief under most circumstances, but I knew too well that no contract was secure until its signature. I had done what I could to both find apromise and lobby its different parties to sign. All that remained were Rnds validation and the vote at the Estates-General.

    I also had another threat to factor in.

    As if on cue, Verni opened the door to the meeting room and stepped inside. From her short breath and the fact she carried her spear to a diplomatic gathering, I guessed she had just barely climbed down from her bird mount and rushed straight here.

    Mdy, Lady Selestine, Lord Robin, she greeted us with a fist against her chest. Might I have a moment of your time?

    Duchess Griseldas brows furrowed slightly. It is not like you to interrupt me this way, Verni. You must have urgent news to report.

    Is it about the Knots? I asked.

    Yes, Verni confirmed sternly.

    <em>I knew it</em>. I immediately listened with alertness, as did Griselda and Selestine. <em>Things were going too smoothly here.</em>

    I returned from Clearwater empty-handed, Verni exined. The golems that had passed the border a few days ago did not reach the town. We suspect they might have been smuggled into Walbourg itself.

    Golems? Much to my surprise, Selestines crimson eyes narrowed with a hint of anger as she turned towards Griselda. You allowed <em>golems </em>into your country?

    Her tone caused the duchess to scowl. We could not confiscate them without risking a deadly fight.

    You <em>should </em>have fought. Selestine did not raise her tone, but quiet fury burned in each of her words. Golems are abominations that keep the souls of the dead trapped in metal shells. Their existence is a crime against the worlds natural order. The mere fact you allowed these constructs free-passage into your duchy without scrapping them severely disappoints me.

    They cannot be in the city, Griselda insisted, her voiceced with disbelief. Our soldiers and citizens would have noticed such giants. Criminals would have an easier time smuggling a behemoth inside our walls.

    ording to early interrogations, the golems might have been broken down into parts and snuck into the city with the expectation of being reassembled, Verni replied. I cant say whether they can do that or not.

    It should be possible, I confirmed. At the end of the day, golems moved because souls were infused into each of their limbs. Expert witchcrafters could easily break them into small pieces without killing them. If their creator is there to put them back together.

    <em>Which means that Will is likely in the city right now.</em><em>Marika will be on a warpath and in danger</em>. From what I knew of the man, I bet he would unleash his golems against her first. He had created them after all. I would be surprised if they werent built to obey hismands first and foremost. <em>We need to strike before they can take the initiative.</em>

    What purpose would it serve? Duchess Griselda shifted ufortably in her seat. It would be madness to attack the Estates-General. Theyck the support for a coup, and an attack would only encourage me to stomp them out. I dont see what the Knots can reasonably expect to gain from deploying golems inside my capital.

    Thats your mistake, Lady Griselda, I said. You assume that the enemy is rational. It <em>isnt</em>.

    Something had been bothering me for a while. The two Knot leaders we had encountered, Florence and Sebastian, <em>werent </em>demons; yet both led organizations including violent creatures much stronger than them. I wondered why the Demon Ancestors would allow this until I remembered why Chastel took orders from Florence: because she <em>inspired </em>him.

    Demons were a shadow of their human selves; all their warped desires distilled into a parody of a person. Sforza had murdered his own men within seconds of his transformation, even though he had nothing to gain from it. Chastel was a murderous beast in human skin. The rest barely managed to pass for humans, because they had lost all inhibitions.

    Demons had no impulse control whatsoever, and the golems were Will Costas creation; a man so vindictive that he tried to murder his own wife and son out of frustration. Without Florence to keep these people in line, they would probably devolve into pointless bloodthirst.

    These golems were created by the Knot of Wrath, whose leadership we decimated in Snowdrift, I reminded Griselda. I strongly suspect that their recementcks any form of long-term nning. Chaos and ughter are an end in themselves for these people.

    The duchess let out a snort. Do they think we will fold to intimidation? Or that an attack on my city will destabilize our institutions? If so, they shall learn the cost of their mistake.

    We wont give them time to assemble a single golem, Mdy, Verni added with confidence. I have alreadypiled a list of suspected locations where they could be keeping them. All I need to raid them is your authorization.

    It would be best if we could deal with this quietly, especially before the Estates-General, Griselda replied, her fingers intertwined into a thoughtful pose. What ces do you have in mind?

    There are only a limited number of warehouses suitablyrge enough to assemble golems of this size. Verni unfolded a map of the city onto our work table. Her hand traveled across the paper lines to point at various locations. The Fronan Printing Press offices, the granaries, a handful of noble estates, the Abattoir

    The Abattoir? I interrupted her. I did not recognize the name. Whats that?

    A ughterhouse in the new district, Duchess Griselda exined to me. When Walbourg grew toorge, we centralized meat production into a singleplex for sanitary reasons. Tens of thousands of cattle heads roll each year on its killing floor.

    It felt as though I had lived this moment before, in an unsettling way. This whole setup sounded <em>awfully </em>familiar to me.

    Selestine was the first to notice my unease. What is it, Lord Merchant?

    I gathered my breath as everyones gazes turned to me. Lady Griselda, please allow me to speak my mind in the bluntest possible terms.

    My tone managed to spook her. You may do so?

    We will find the golems at the Abattoir alongside a hideout of the Knot of Wrath, I dered with confidence. I <em>strongly </em>suggest that you order an immediate attack and mobilize all your avable witchcrafters to contain a newborn Blight.

    A newborn Blight? The duchess face turned whiter than chalk. What madness are you spewing?

    I think I understand, Selestine said, a grim scowl spreading on her fair face. Theyve built an altar to death and murder.

    I nodded slowly. I have seen a simr case unfold once before in Snowdrift. For years, the Knot of Wrath used an illegal fighting arena to feed human sacrifices to their Berserk me. They focused all of the citys negative essence in one ce, until it reached a critical stage and erupted into a Blight.

    Animals didnt produce as much emotionally charged essence as humans, but they generated some nheless. The Knot of Wrath could easily perpetrate ritual killings at the ughterhouse too. All meat looked the same once skinned.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Walbourg is not Snowdrift, Griselda insisted, perhaps out of denial considering the risk her city faced. You have seen it for yourself. Our streets overflow with wealth and happiness. A Blight will find no fertile ground there.

    That might be the case, I conceded. Marika would have noticed an abnormal quantity of negative essence in the air like she did in Snowdrift otherwise. However, the Lord of Wrath has grown so strong that a single battle between Prince Rnds army and the Regents allowed him to transform the battlefield into a Blight.

    A sufficiently bloody massacre around the Abattoir might achieve the same result, Verni guessed, her hand tightened on her spear. Hence the golems.

    The Abattoir ispelled to employ exorcists to meet our regtions, Griselda insisted. They would have reported any anomaly.

    My furrows curved slightly. Who pays them?

    The Butchers Guild. They oversee all the meat production and leather work in the city.

    I didnt like her answer one bit. So what you are saying is that the Abattoirs exorcists are <em>not </em>under the states direct oversight?

    The more I questioned her, the more the duchess stiffened in her seat. Lord Robin, the entire point of a guild is to empower professionals to manage their affairs with minimal government regtions.

    As a merchant I would usually agree with her policy, <em>except </em>for cases rtive to public safety.

    Let me rephrase my earlier question, I said, my tone sharp as a knifes edge. If say, a criminal organization of murderous demon worshipers were to infiltrate the Butchers Guild and ensure that the witchcrafters selected to purify the Abattoir worked for them, would the state have any way of confirming that they actually <em>do their job</em>?

    The more I spoke, the deeper Duchess Griseldas scowl grew. The superintendent visits the site once a year.

    Is he a witchcrafter? Selestine inquired at the same time I asked, Is he incorruptible?

    Griselda answered both questions with silence.

    I had to give it to Walbourgs armed forces. Once Duchess Griselda gave the order, they mobilized within hours.

    We Heroes acted quicker.

    I quickly gathered my allies and then left for the new district to scout ahead. Thankfully, the Abattoir was located between the new districts meat market and a Reformist belfry. Thetter offered us an excellent vantage point to observe the area.

    The Abattoir proved as foreboding a ce as I expected it to be. Pens of tightly packed cattle and ominous oaken workshops were gathered around a massive, three-floor high warehouse of coarse gray stone. The building was new, its coat of paint almost fresh enough to hide the metallic tang of blood hanging in the air. A few barred windows allowed scant light to enter its bowels. The ce was <em>loud</em>. I could hear the bellowing of cows and the cackles of poultry from many streets away. Animals werent stupid. They knew what awaited them inside these walls.

    <em>Death.</em>

    Pretty nasty ce, Imented. What do you think of its essence, Marika?

    Not enough corruption to create a Blight, too much for any reasonable exorcist to tolerate it. Her jaw tightened into a scowl. I think you were right on the money, Robin. Its not another <em>Gilded Wolf</em> yet, but its getting there one death at a time.

    I concur, Selestine added. I smell something vile.

    I took a quick nce at my allies. Whereas Marika and Selestine surveyed the Abattoir from the outside, Verni reviewed a map of the location. Mr. Fronan sat near the belfrys edge, his hand applied to ivy running down the tower and to the ground below. Local nts ryed information back to him through this intermediary.

    Soraseo worried me the most. My friend reminded me of a corpse who had crawled out of her grave. She soldiered out of her room when duty called and observed the Abattoirs surroundings with the trained eyes of a veteran, but the way she used her sword to support her weight did not inspire confidence. I half-expected her to copse at any moment.

    <em>Shes unwell.</em> Anyone could see the sorrow written on her pale face and hollow gaze. <em>And shes our muscle. This doesnt bode well.</em>

    Do you see anything, Lord Fronan? Verni asked.

    It is a novel experience to interpret the reports of roots, the Druid replied with a small, sheepish chuckle. Is this Abattoir supposed to house arge basement? I would assume otherwise.

    No, it shouldnt, Verni confirmed. She quickly showed him her map. Where is it? Mr. Fronan pointed at arge room in the buildings northern wing. Right beneath the killing floor, huh?

    The <em>killing floor?</em> Selestine asked, slightly uneasy with the name.

    The ce where they execute the livestock, Mdy. Verni folded the map. Makes sense. That Berserk me you spoke of must be located right underneath.

    They feed its fire one death at a time, Selestine said. Her head turned to the meat market near the Abattoir. I worry for those poor souls.

    So did I. In stark contrast with the grim ughterhouse that fueled its appetite, Walbourgs meat market bustled with chaotic energy. Rows after rows of butcher stalls stood along muddy streets, their owners hawking cuts of flesh to customers. Chicken, beef,mb, pork, venison one could eat anything if they looked long enough. Clouds of flies gathered above tables overflowing with freshly processed skin and leather.

    I would have loved to visit the new suburbs under better circumstances. Crowds of hundreds still walked along the stands in thete afternoon; the number of visitors probably reaching the thousands in the morning. It would be something worthwhile to watch, and an enticing target for our enemies.

    What else did you see? Verni questioned Mr. Fronan. How many are there? Howrge is their hideout?

    Roots do not have eyes, nor ears, so forgive theck of details, Mr. Fronan replied calmly. I can confirm that the basement chamber is hot, as much as a forge. The roots sensed flesh. Metal. Strong vibrations.

    What kind? Marika inquired.

    Hammers hitting steel. Gears turning too, I believe. Which would suggest they were indeed rebuilding the golems there. My nts report the presence of a small tunnel leading to the river. An exit route, I would assume.

    They probably used it to smuggle the golem parts inside the Abattoir, I suggested. If we copse the tunnel, then we can trap the cultists inside their ownir.

    Thousands of people gather at the meat market in the morning, Verni noted. Once our foespletely repair their golems, theyll burst out of the Abattoir and charge at the area. Thats how I would proceed to maximize casualties.

    How many golems do you think Will managed to reassemble? I asked Marika.

    I cant say, she replied. It depends on how many assistants Will has with him. I doubt he has all the golems up and running though. Putting one together is a lot of work. He could have finished one at best, maybe none if were lucky.

    Were <em>never </em>lucky, I replied. Experience taught me that much. Well assume the worst and proceed ordingly. If the Knots have managed toplete any number of golems, theyll likely deploy them the moment we raid the Abattoir. They might also have stocked canisters of Florences berserk gas under the building.

    A prospect that worried Selestine. The market is crowded at this hour. If we strike now, thousands will perish.

    I suggest waiting for nightfall, Marika said. She acted much calmer than I would have expected. The news of Wills presence in the city both spooked and excited her in equal measure; she wanted to take him out swiftly, but she understood he woulde for her too. It would reduce the number of civilians around the location and let us test the Dreadwolf cloaks.

    Cloaks? I smiled. Plural?

    Who do you take me for? Marika chuckled and raised two fingers. I managed to craft two sets, thank you very much. They should turn us invisible in the dark.

    Verni examined the area, her hand stroking her chin. The way I see it, we can proceed in two ways, she said after a moments consideration. First, the loud option. We can establish a perimeter around the Abattoir after evacuating the locals. We copse the tunnel, set the warehouse on fire to smoke out the rats, then intercept those who escape the mes.

    A n as simple as it was brutal. I could see the hardened mercenary speaking.

    Both Mr. Fronan and Selestine looked aghast. Set the warehouse on fire? the former asked. You wish to burn down the entire building?

    Rebuilding the ce should take less than a fortnight with Lady Marikas power, Verni replied. This option would limit the risks on our end. Stone can be raised back. Lost lives cant.

    I noticed Soraseos head perking up slightly. My friend had been eerily silent so far, not speaking up on military matters; her own expertise. I was truly starting to get worried.

    Second, the subtler option, Verni continued. We raid the Abattoir but leave the exit tunnel open. We force them to split and intercept those trying to flee towards the river. This will improve our odds of at least capturing some of the Knot members alive. It will also increase their odds of escaping.

    A surrounded force with no way to escape fights to the death, Selestine noted with an uneasy tone.

    Good. When dealing with a vermin colony, Mdy, a thorough cleansing spares us future infestations. Verni gave Soraseo a knowing look. Wouldnt you agree, Lady Soraseo?

    Soraseos lips tensed up like bowstring. She looked away without answering.

    Thought so, Vernimented with a hint of disappointment.

    <em>Theres some bad history there</em>. My eyes shifted from Verni to Soraseo. I noticed thetters hands trembled on her swords hilt. <em>Did she let someone she should have in escape and lived to regret it?</em>

    If I may, Lady Marika cleared her throat. Lady Priest? Lady Selestine?

    You may call me however you wish, Selestine replied calmly. What thought clouds your mind?

    You can summon miracles, no? Marika asked the Priest. Cant you simply wipe out this ce with a quick prayer?

    Selestine joined her hands, her back straighter than an arrow. The Four Artifacts are forces of nature. They never act subtly. If I call upon them to intervene and they agree, this entire district might suffer the consequences. Neither can I expect which form their intervention will take.

    Moreover, most of this ces employees are legitimate workers blissfully unaware of its macabre purpose, I added. We should limit casualties if we can.

    Selestine nodded quietly. Beyond my mark, I am a trained exorcist who has undergone the Second Awakening. I can seal the Berserk me on my own if needed.

    That would free me up to help deal with the golems, Marika conceded. My power can make the difference there.

    Verni sharply nodded to herself. I would like to go for the first option with your support, if you think we have little to gain from taking captives. It offers us the best odds of wiping out our foes in one strike.

    I didnt mind this option. I doubted Will or any Knot of Wrath member could provide more information than their imprisoned leader. The debacle with Sebastian remained fresh in my mind too. I didnt want a repeat of <em>that </em>disaster.

    I do not have much experience with military operations, but I will offer what help I can, Mr. Fronan said with no small apprehension. Selestine kept her arms crossed, but offered no resistance. Neither did Soraseo, who hardly appeared to be listening anymore.

    Seems like a good enough n to me, Marikamented. I can put up ramparts to ensure they stay boxed in. Make sure they all burn in their holes.

    You dont want to put Will in chains first? I asked with an eyebrow raised. Her reaction surprised me. Tell him how much youve surpassed him in his final moments for catharsis sake?

    Why would I want that? Marika shrugged her shoulders. I want Will out of my life for good, thats all. I dont care who puts him in the ground, Robin, so long as he sleeps in the dirt.

    Thats refreshingly practical, Imented. I couldnt help but notice the contrast with Mersie, who insisted on killing her targets personally.

    You said it yourself. I dont owe him anything. Marika scoffed. Not even his death.

    Hopefully, she would see her wish granted soon enough.

    Aftering to a decision about how to proceed, we divided the roles between ourselves and waited for nightfall. Verni, as befitting a militarymander, quickly organized a blockade of the Abattoir. The meat market was closed and evacuatedofficially for fear of a rising epidemicand the beast pens emptied. Marika used her powers to raise makeshift barricades at every street corner and we staffed them with guards and crossbowmen.

    We had the Abattoir surrounded. The staff had already returned home, so the only people within its walls should belong to the Knot of Wrath. The city watch would swiftly arrest the other employees for interrogationter.

    As the Merchant, I was asked to stay in the reserve at the southern blockade near the belfry; the least exposed part of the defensive perimeter. Unsurprisingly, Verni assigned Soraseo to my area. She understood that we needed the Monk in case the operation went south, but that she wouldnt perform well in her current state.

    Truthfully, I would rather see Soraseo sit this one out. My friend clearly suffered from deep depression. A pity we couldnt spare someone capable of dueling a golem on their lonesome. The best I could do was to watch over her.

    Before being assigned to the northern barricade near the meat market, Marika delivered me one of the two Dreadwolf cloaks. It was quite the refined piece of clothing. Its enchanted fur quickly shrouded the armor underneath from sight once I put it over my shoulders; I actually had to keep the hood down to leave my face visible. A few of the guards were already sending me strange looks. I looked like a floating head to them.

    <em>Mr. Fronan and the sappers should be copsing the tunnel by now. </em>Our Druid had littlebat experiencehence why Marika lent him the second invisibility cloakbut his fast-growing roots should swiftly obstruct the Knots escape route. <em>Will has to know we have him surrounded by now.</em>

    I took a quick nce at the future battlefield. Selestine stood atop a roof, a finely crafted and dragon-shaped runestone scepter in her hands. A group of witchcrafters and city exorcists waited for a signal next to her. Archers had taken a position on the belfry and other buildings. I couldnt see Marikas face among the northern troops, but I assumed she stood ready.

    As for Soraseo her armor had never seemed so heavy on her, nor her hold on her grip on her weapon so loose. The proud and fearless warrior who had demolished Fenrivos and dueled a golem on her own was nowhere to be seen. Only its ghost remained.

    I can buy it, I told her.

    My friend looked at me with a confused look. She briefly muttered words in her native tongue in surprise, before quickly defaulting back to Archfrostian. I I have no understanding of your meaning, Robin.

    Your anguish. Your memories. Whatever gnaws at you. It hurt me to see her in such a sorry state. I can take it away if you would rather focus on the battle.

    For a brief moment, Soraseo appeared to thoughtfully ponder my offer. She stared at me with sad eyes, her expression dead as a tombstone. She gathered her breath and struggled to find her words.

    I have appreciation, Robin, but I must deny your proposal. She focused back on the Abattoir. It will not provide any help.

    She had lost someone. I could tell from her reaction. Her answer did not reassure me either; nor the grim look in her eyes when she stared at the ughterhouse. Id seen it before after Belgoroth reminded her of her past crimes. That gaping emptiness that allowed little to no satisfaction.

    <em>Dont</em>, I all but ordered her.

    What is your meaning? she asked softly.

    Dont throw your life away. Her desire was written all over her face. As your friend, I will never forgive you. Neither will Marika or Colmar. When she wouldnt answer me, I grabbed her helmet and forced her to lock eyes with me. You dont get to die. Do you understand me? You <em>wont </em>die today. It wont give you absolution.

    Soraseo stared at me without a word.

    No, scratch that. Her eyes looked <em>through </em>me. My words had entered one ear and escaped through the other. My concern had failed to reach her heart. It hurt mine more than a dagger to the back.

    Still, I refused to give up on her. There had to be a way to snap her out of her despair.

    I was considering how to shake her out of her depression when I heard the signal.

    It came from the sky in a high-pitched screech loud enough to wake the dead, followed by the pping of great wings in the night sky. Vernis firehawk flew high above our heads with burning feathers and a glorious battle cry. A squad of wyvern riders followed after them both in a tightly packed formation.

    <em>Curses. </em>I needed more time to get through to Soraseo. Now I feared she might do something stupid if allowed to fight now. <em>Its too soon!</em>

    The Cavalier opened hostilities with a package delivery.

    I saw the bag of fire runestones fall from her hand to the Abattoir below. It hit the roof with a cataclysmic st that illuminated the night. The wyvern riders swiftly dropped more bombs in a cacophony of fire and sparkles. I squinted to protect my eyes as the ground shook beneath my feet.

    The bombardment swiftly blew off the ughterhouses roof. mes spread through the Abattoirs wooden support beams within seconds, raising columns of fire and smoke into the sky. The western stone wall crumbled under its weakened nk, crushing the empty pens beneath in andslide.

    A blue hue at my visions edge caught my attention. I looked up at Selestine and held my breath. The Priest had gathered a swirling sphere of blue mes above her staff; onerger than a man and brighter than the sun. I saw her chest rise as she gathered her breath, then she unleashed the condensed essence with a slight flick of her wrist. The azure fireball soared across the sky before hitting the Abattoir faster than any arrow. A burst of light and smoke followed in its wake.

    Id dabbled in witchcrafting, but here I stood in awe of a master.

    <em>How does she do this?</em> Id never seen any witchcrafter pull off such a feat even with plenty of fire runestones. Selestine was no Mage, so where did she pull the required essence? Thin air?<em> Who is this woman?</em>

    At least the results spoke for themselves. mes consumed the Abattoir in an instant. I heard screamsing from the pyre, but no cultist nor demon escaped the debris. If this continued, we might kill most of them without firing a single arrow. The witchcrafters would then contain the Berserk me once the normal fire died out.

    I knew better than to expect an easy victory, and what happened next proved me right.

    I sensed it in the air. A sudden surge in temperature higher than what any pyre could produce. A rancid smell of sulfur and burned flesh, soaked with ashes straight from a charnel pit. A terrifying pressure that reached all the way down to my bones and marrow.

    Something wasing at us. Something great and terrible.

    Soraseos hand moved to her forehead. My friend grunted in pain, her fingers scratching at her helmet. A question formed on my lips and died the moment I saw her mark burning bright on her skin.

    Debris went flying without warning. A metal titan emerged from the Abattoirs rubble with a fearsome roar, its heavy footsteps starting a small quake.

    Marika was half-right. Will had barely managed to rebuild a single golem. It was missing protective tes on its right shoulder and the crossbow weapon its siblings used near the capital, but it carried a single ymore in its left hand.

    But the way it stood up, its back straight, its head held high with aristocratic disdain, its right hand curling into a tight fist the hateful, oppressive aura of murderous anger radiating from its armor Those were new.

    The other golems were mindless machines, mountains of steel fueled by maddened souls. This ones movements betrayed a spark of intelligence. A sense of purpose. It burned inside and out. The Berserk me flowed through the metal frame like blood through veins, animating its gears, possessing its pistons and joints.

    A chill traveled down my spine as I remembered that a certain ss allowed its wielder to master <em>any </em>kind of weapon.

    Demonic light shone through the golems visor. A booming voice stronger than roaring thunder erupted from its helmet; one I had heard once before in Snowdrifts bowels and that confirmed my worst fears.

    Weep in despair, mortals.

    A sword-shaped mark burned bright on the back of the golems left hand. The yellow hue of the Berserk me swirled around its de and a crown of wicked fire arose above its helmet. The golem took a step forward, not with the lumbering clumsiness of a machine, but the martial grace of a wicked Knight on a warpath.

    For I have returned.

    The Lord of Wrath walked among us, with fire for a crown and death for a scepter.

 Chapter Thirty-Six: The Burning Dead

    Chapter Thirty-Six: The Burning Dead

    Belgoroth surged forward in a sh of speed.

    The bigger an object, the slower it moved. Inertia was one of the inviblews of the world. Weight reduced movement. When west fought golems, a man on foot could easily outrun them.

    Belgoroth hit the western barricade quicker than a rampaging horse.

    He wasnt so fast that my eyes failed to see his movements, but still deft enough to strike the fortifications before the archers could fire their bows. I watched in awe as Belgoroth grabbed his burning ymore with both hands and then swept aside all opposition with a thunderous strike. Houses, men, walls of wood and stone all folded before his ming steel as severed heads flew high alongside dust and splinters.

    However frightful this disy of strength, I noticed a detail that gave me the slightest glimmer of hope. Weeks of training with Soraseo had taught me to recognize the movements of a professional warrior, from the subtle way they shifted their weight to maximize the impact of their strike to their footwork.

    Belgoroths left knee moved slower than the right. The gears in the joints jammed mid-strike; not enough to stop his momentum, but enough to slightly throw him off his aim.

    Striking early proved a wise choice. We had interrupted Will before he couldplete the golem. No matter how powerful Belgoroth might be, his vessel wasnt up to the task. We had a chance to win, if we yed our cards right.

    <em>If.</em>

    We need to keep him pinned inside the defensive perimeter, I told Soraseo. With Marika

    Soraseo dashed after Belgoroth without listening.

    I would like to say her reaction surprised me. Sadly, it did not. The way she rushed headlong into danger with little thought for her safety or that of anyone else aligned all too well with her behavior today. Soraseo believed only blood could salvage her lost honor. Whether it belonged to her or the enemy didnt matter.

    That gant <em>fool</em>.

    I rushed after her when the ground shook beneath my feet. The ruins of the Abattoir erupted, rising mes throwing dust and smoke into the air. A towering shadow crawled atop the burning corpses of cultists to escape its own destroyed forge.

    A grotesque demon emerged from the mes, its hulking shape a mass of swollen reddish skin and ckened veins. A dozen malicious eyes darker than murky pools stared out from its smoking skin, each blinking with a malicious glint. Thergest of them upied the right side of its misshapen head; while the left eye socket was no more than an empty pit bleeding between a tuft of red hair and a jagged jaw.

    The monster let out a roar as it stumbled out of the Abattoirs ruins, its muscr, overgrown arms and gnarled hands holding on to a hammer too big for any man to carry. The twisted legs bent under the creatures own immense weight, forcing it to use its weapon as a makeshift cane. Tattering scraps of clothes burned all over its pulsating skin.

    I couldnt tell for certain, but from the cksmith hammer, red hair, and single eye in the middle of its misshapen skull, I could wager a guess on the demons identity.

    Will Costa.

    I immediately decided to focus on him. Belgoroth was our most dangerous opponent, but none of my weapons could harm the Lord of Wrath. We should take out his ally first, then focus all of our might on the Demon Ancestor.

    The soldiers on the roofs loosed a hail of arrows on the demon and golem alike. The former protected his head with his hand, the projectiles piercing his skin without drawing blood. Thetter simply ignored the attack. No arrow could puncture through Belgoroths armor. The Lord of Wrath answered the challenge by punching the nearest building with the strength of a dozen battering rams. The awesome blow shattered the walls, copsed the roof, and buried everyone standing on it under a rain of stone.

    Soraseo quickly caught up to Belgoroth, her movements so quick that my eyes struggled to follow them. Her sword whistled as it cut through the air. Having noticed the same weakness as I did, she aimed for the golems left knee. Belgoroth sensed her approach and swiftly twisted and rotated on himself. A piercing screech echoed when his immense weapon carved the earth in a sweeping motion. I didnt see Soraseo dodge the strike, but I heard the fearsome song of her sword hitting the golems armor.

    Marika and a dozen brave soldiers rushed at Will from the northern barricade. The demon immediately noticed his ex-wife among the troops and moved at them to answer the challenge. Unlike his master, Will was as slow as his size should imply, but the tip of his hammer swiftly crackled with bright sparks. A thunderbolt burst from the weapon and immted three men at once.

    I caught up to Will, my invisibility cloak keeping me hidden from his many eyes. I struck at his heel with my rapier. My de bit his thick skin, but though I sank the entire length of it into his flesh, I failed to reach the blood underneath. Will was a towering mountain of muscle, nearly as tall as his masters golem vessel. My stinger had little more effect than that of a mosquito.

    I barely managed to remove my weapon before Will lumbered toward the northern barricade. Soldiers immediately threw javelins at him. The weapons stuck into his skin without inflicting any more damage than my own strikes. The only exception hit one of Wills many eyes and caused it to burst with ck blood. The demon responded by striking the ground with his hammer and crushing a man to death in a single blow.

    At this point Marikas soldiers backed away in fear; with only my friend daring to face the giant.

    I knew youd be there, Ka, the demon dered with a guttural, masculine voice. Told you, havent I? A weapons worth is determined by how many lives it takes. Look at my masterstroke, my son of steel.

    You <em>had </em>a son, Will, Marika spat as she raised her hammer. It looked like a toothpick whenpared with her former husbands.

    A failure polluted by your flesh. The demon lifted up his own weapon, his main eye glittering with malice. That child, I created alone. With my own two hands.

    Will brought down his hammer on Marika and attempted to squash her like a bug. My friend proved quicker. Showcasing her training and resolve, she charged straight at Wills legs. Her former husbands weapon fell on an empty spot in a sh of lightning and an eruption of dirt; Marikas own warhammer struck the monsters knee with enough strength to leave a bruise.

    Will immediately attempted to stomp her underfoot in retaliation. I seized the opportunity to stab the eyes within reach. My rapier darted at the nearest eyeballs, each thrust of my weapon causing them to burst. A fountain of ck blood erupted from the demons waist and the pain distracted him long enough for Marika to follow up with a second blow. Wills knee fell to the ground.

    <em>I blind, she smashes. </em>The thought put a smile on my lips. <em>Simple enough.</em>

    I prepared to follow with another round of stabbing when an explosion of blue mes tossed me back a few feet. Selestine, who hadnt left her vantage point atop the belfry yet, used the opportunity tounch a fireball at Will. She sted the demons back with such heat that it left me sweating. Her azure mes seared Wills skin so deeply that they finally exposed his naked flesh.

    Marika cared nothing for it. She continued smashing Wills weak knee with rage that would please the Lord of Wrath. She struck and struck, breaking bones and joints alike. It unnerved me to see such savagerying from her.

    Beni wont even speak to me now! she shouted in between strikes. Because hes scared of you!

    <em>Good</em>, Will rasped back, his weapon crackling louder than a thunderstorm.

    Realizing the danger, I quickly grabbed a berserk Marikas shoulder and shoved her as far away from Wills hammer as I could; her surprise at being touched by someone she couldnt see was enough to jolt her back to reality.

    Thunderbolts rained down around us. My ears rang with the booms and bangs of their impact as they hit the ground, the air itself burnt and smelling foul. My eyes went white from the shes. Marika and I both dived to the ground to save ourselves. I would rather eat ashes than sts of lightning.

    I couldnt stand his mewling and prattling, always distracting me, always getting in the way of my <em>work</em>! I heard Will growl with terrible anger. The two of you were keeping me away from <em>greatness</em>!

    More sts followed in the distance. Belgoroth had smashed his way out of the containment zone and now made his way to the meat market. I could no longer see him nor Soraseo, but I could guess their location based on where Verni and her wyvern riders were flocking to. The Lord of Wrath was clearly aiming for the citys most popted areas.

    Did he intend to ughter all of Walbourgs citizens on his lonesome? The prospect sounded frighteningly usible to me. What weapon could pierce his steel hide? What warrior could match him in battle?

    Wills roar reminded me that I should focus on my own problems first. The demon had turned around by the time Marika and I had risen back to our feet. We fled in different directions, barely dodging a blow that would have torn a ship apart. Marika had managed to run far enough to avoid the blowback, but I had no such luck. The shockwave blew a cloud of dirt and dust into my face with such strength that it flung me against a pile of debris. A surge of pain raced through my skull when my head hit stone.

    My vision blurred. A warm liquid trickled down my forehead. My blood. It stuck to me like an old friend I never wanted to see. My ears rang with tinnitus. Strange, I thought I had sold that one away long ago.

    Ugh I grunted while holding my head. My eyes blinked as I tried to adjust my vision. By the time I realized making any noise at all was a mistake, Wills shadow already loomed over me.

    Theres something there someone I cant see, Will rasped. To my horror, his remaining eyes suddenly stared at me all at once. There you are

    My eyes darted to my hands. Some of Wills blood stuck to my cloak, alongside ashes and cinders.

    Dirty spots. Invisibilitys worst enemy.

    Will was already charging at me. I thought myst hour hade when roots thicker than tree trunks suddenly burst out of the ground and coiled around the demons legs. The sudden obstruction stopped him dead in his tracks.

    Selestine flung another fireball from her vantage point and nailed Will in the chest. The st incinerated the skin of his chest and unveiled the charred ribs underneath. Between the blowback, the roots around his leg, and the damage Marika had done to his limping knee, Will quickly lost his bnce. He crashed onto his back, his mighty frame shaking the ground on impact.

    My apologies for the dy, I heard Mr. Fronans voice behind me. An invisible hand helped me stand up. My old legs do not carry on as swiftly as they used to.

    Dont apologize, I replied, smiling when I noticed Marika rushing at Wills head. You arrived right on time for the finale.

    As I knew she would, Marika immediately exploited Wills incapacitation to smash the back of his head. The difference in size made her warhammer look like a surgeons tool, but it proved effective enough. Her first blow crushed Wills main eye; the second cracked his skull open; and the third spilled his brain all over the Abattoirs ruins. A red cloud of corrupted essence surged from her ex-husbands corpse and swiftly consumed him.

    Within seconds, a Devil Coin glittering among the ashes was all that remained of Will Costa alongside his oversized hammer and the smoking blood drenching Marikas armor, of course.

    Ah Marika panted heavily through her helmet, her lungs gasping for air. She lowered her bloody warhammer and stared at her former husbands ashes. Is is it over?

    I nodded sharply. He dropped his coin. Which I quickly picked up for safekeeping. Its as over as it gets.

    Marika looked at me, then back at Wills ashes. Her mind clearly struggled to ept the reality of her situation: that her ex-husband, the father of her child and the man who had haunted her for so long, was indeed gone. I didnt need magic to guess her thoughts: <em>it was too easy; its a trick; it cant end like this.</em>

    I could hardly me her. Thest sh happened so swiftly that Will couldnt even react. I doubted he saw his demiseing at all, or realized that his former wife had struck the final blow. But then again, such was the nature of death. The reaper rarely took appointments. It mostly exacted its toll when it was least expected and left the living behind to pick up the pieces.

    Miss Marika, are you well? Mr. Fronan asked with a hint of concern.

    It said something about Marikas current state of mind that being addressed by an invisible Druid did not cause her much surprise. She had likely imagined many ways how the final sh with her husband could have happened, only for reality to disappoint her.

    I feel exactly the same, she confessed. I expected more, I guess?

    We always do, I replied. I understood her well. While I did feel an unmistakable rush of satisfaction after killing Sforza, it onlysted until I realized my life would go on afterward. Killing is easy, moving on is harder.

    Marika pondered my words in silence. I could tell she understood that truth, but it would take her a bit longer to ept it.

    I tried to cheer her up with clever wordy. I confirm it though: he was far too thick-headed for you.

    My joke caused Marika to burst into nerve-wrackingughter. All the tension she had umted from her fight erupted like a floodgate. Her hand instinctively moved to her visor as if to cover her mouth. It lifted my spirits for a moment.

    Then I heard an explosion in the distance and remembered we had only dealt with the lesser evil.

    I noticed the distant shine of Vernis firehawk as she and her fellow flyers dropped runestones onto the world below. Plumes of smoke arose from Walbourgs suburbs, obscuring the glow of the Firemoon above.

    Somethingnded a few feet away from me with great strength. I turned towards the source and found myself facing Selestine.

    The Lord of Wrath remains, she said after wiping dust off her robes. His Berserk me grows stronger with each death.

    I blinked as my mind struggled to process her sudden appearance. I nced at the belfry she had leaped from, then calcted the distance. Had she jumped all the way from there? I couldnt see anything short of a bird achieving a simr feat.

    Who was this woman? <em>What </em>was she?

    No matter. We had a much more pressing issue to deal with.

    Mr. Fronan, have youpleted your task? I turned around to look for him, only to stare at empty space. Unlike my stained cloak, Mr. Fronans remainedpletely invisible. So thats how it feels

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the vition.

    Oh, my apologies. Mr. Fronans head popped into sight after he removed his invisibility cloaks hood. It was quite the grotesque sight to see just his head floating in the air. I cluttered the secret passage with thorns. I doubt any cultist survived the Abattoirs destruction.

    Then Belgoroth is ourst source of concern, I said. I would have loved to say that I found the notion reassuring. Lady Selestine, I suppose you cannot simply petition the Artifacts for a good old-fashioned divine punishment?

    I have tried, Selestine replied with a tired sigh. The Artifacts answered that they already acted against the Demon Ancestors centuries ago when they created us. They will not intervene in a <em>mortal </em>conflict.

    For the first time in my life, I was seriously consideringmitting sphemy. s, I doubted we could change the Artifacts mind. They would have already smote down the Demon Ancestors if they had the power and will required to do so.

    We were on our own.

    What about indirect help? I asked. If we couldnt convince the Artifacts to act against Belgoroth, we might at least try to work around their restrictions. You mentioned calling down the rain to extinguish a forest fire once. Can you call a rainstorm to smother his mes?

    It will limit the damage Belgoroth causes to the town, but it will not stop him, Selestine replied with a stern look. The situation is dire, Lord Waybright. The seal has grown so porous that Belgoroth can project his consciousness outside its confines. We must pursue him with haste.

    <em>Not</em> without a n, I insisted. I was just as tense as she was, especially since Soraseo and Verni had already engaged Belgoroth in battle, but rushing in without a strategy would get us all killed.

    Robin speaks wisely. Mr. Fronan nodded slowly. In spite of hisck ofbat experience, he appeared determined to risk his life for the cause. Lady Marika, you know more about golems than any of us. Do you have any idea how we may disable that infernal machine?

    I Im not sure whats going on, Marika admitted. Id wager Will ced the Berserk me inside the golems chest. It probably overwhelmed the souls used to move itsponents and allowed Belgoroth to control the frame like a doll.

    Can either of you exorcize the me then? Mr. Fronan asked her and Selestine.

    I can, if I get close enough, Selestine confirmed. The me hasnt matured into a newborn Blight yet. I can disperse its essence, dilute it until it loses all consistency.

    <em>If</em> you get close enough, I repeated, my voice heavy with skepticism. A risky prospect so long as the golem remained active. Well need to immobilize Belgoroth first.

    My nts might limit the golems movements, but that one is faster and stronger than any other, Mr. Fronan said. I doubt I can immobilize the fiend for long, if at all.

    I noticed structural faults on the golems left side, Marika added. If we focus our efforts on the weak points, we should eventually destroy the joints.

    An idea crossed my mind. Mr. Fronan, please lend Marika your cloak, I said while my hand searched for a piece of paper inside my purse. Heres what I suggest: Marika will use it to sneak up on the golem and sabotage it. Since a golem is an object, her power should work on it.

    My power fuses two objects I can touch together, Robin, Marika reminded me. Even if I manage to sneak up on Belgoroth, I still need resources to merge with the golem.

    Use those, I said upon bringing out a letter. It had gathered a little dust from the fighting, but mostly remained intact otherwise. This is a countermeasure I brought in case Vernis bombardment started a city-wide fire: a contract simr to those that let me teleport supplies to Rnds army. Once you sign it with your blood, you will buy dozens of water barrels from me. They will immediately teleport to your location.

    Marikas eyes squinted at me behind her helmet. Wait, you thought we would screw it up and set the city on fire?

    This oue sounded likely to me, I replied bluntly. Since nothing ever went our way, I had grown wise enough to prepare countermeasures. Thankfully, I had plenty of leftover contracts dating from our march on the capital. If you do it beneath Belgoroth, they should crash on him and douse his mes.

    I can fuse the wood with the golems joints until they rece them, Marika guessed. Belgoroths own mes will consume them from within. Hell fall to pieces.

    At which point Mr. Fronans roots will restrain him long enough for you and Selestine to exorcize him.

    Still, Robin, thats risky, Marika said, her eyes full of doubts and skepticism. Belgoroth has Soraseos power. He wont need to see me to sense my approach. He only needs to pay attention to the movement of the air.

    He wont, if we can distract Belgoroth long enough for Mr. Fronan to restrain him. Not if I threw Belgoroth off his game. At a certain point, I will throw off my own cloak and draw his attention. This will be your signal to act.

    You want to be our bait? Marikas eyes widened in horror as she tried to dissuade me. Robin, thats suicide!

    Mr. Fronan proved more circumspect, but no less skeptical. I strongly urge you to reconsider, Robin. This creature will kill you in a single blow.

    Not if youre quick enough, I replied, both as encouragement and as a prayer for my own safety. I know a way to distract Belgoroth, but it wontst long. I will need you to trust me on this one.

    Myrades exchanged nces. Marika was the first to nod in assent after snatching my letter; she worried for my safety, but I had earned her trust over and over again before. The others followed soon after. Mr. Fronan swiftly returned his invisibility cloak to Marika and helped her vanish from sight.

    Lead the way, Lord Merchant, Selestine said.

    It wasnt so difficult to follow the Demon Ancestors path. His passage scarred the streets worse than any tempest. He had rampaged across the meat market with abandon after breaking through the barricades; setting houses on fire, crushing stalls underfoot, stomping wagons, and carving the road open with his sword. I saw fire and smoke everywhere I looked. I shuddered to imagine the potential death toll had we not evacuated the area beforehand.

    I gained an idea when we reached the suburbs proper.

    Belgoroth had ughtered his way to inhabited areas, where Walbourgs Moonlight Riders mercenaries intercepted him. A sea of fire and bloody flesh stood as a testament to their doomed attempt. The corpses of horses cut in half alongside their riders littered the ruins of sted streets. Piles of charred skeletons burned like candles. Soldiers, beastmen, and humans the dead all looked the same. I heard screams echo in the distance, the call of firefighters desperately trying to either rescue civilians trapped under debris or smother the mes that threatened to consume the city itself. How many had perished? Hundreds? More?

    Belgoroth showed no sign of slowing down either. His metal frame loomed over arge za whose buildings he had all scrupulously set aze. Streams of yellow fire bellowed out of his visor to incinerate the few knights valiant enough to challenge him. Their spears burned like foresticks. Their horses were crushed underfoot like ants. The golem cared nothing for their courage or their sacrifices. Belgoroth walked on, his heavy footsteps leaving death and burning craters in their wake. A swing of his sword swept away all obstacles.

    It was then that I understood a simple truth.

    Only Heroes could stop a Demon Ancestor.

    I <em>knew </em>that since the night I received my mark, but it was only now that I <em>understood </em>it. Belgoroth wielded a mere fraction of his marks power in his current form, and yet no conventional force could stop him. Once the Demon Ancestor fully escapeda certainty if he had grown powerful enough to project his consciousness beyond his sealhe would tear through anything in his way. He wouldy armies to waste and reduce castles to rubble. He would be a natural disaster, a hurricane of fire and steel that wouldnt stop ravaging the world until he had fully set it aze.

    This ughter was but an appetizer for the devastation toe.

    Hope remained nheless. I managed to get a glimpse of Soraseo shing at Belgoroths heel. Her attacks had little to no effect, yet she insisted on throwing herself at him again, and again, and over again. She wasnt mad enough to neglect her defense, but she charged in with no n beyond striking at the golems joints.

    I ran after the Lord of Wrath as fast as I could, my lungs aching from the strain of my short breath. Selestine more than matched my speed while still uttering prayers somehow. I picked up words spoken in ancient Erebian and noticed the golden glow of her mark under her clothes. Mr. Fronan followed far behind, his age slowing him down. Marika alone I couldnt see. I took it as a good sign.

    Take position! I shouted at my allies, my hands swiping off the dust and dried blood on my invisibility cloak the best I could. We wont have another chance!

    Above us, Vernis wyvern rider squad converged on Belgoroth and dropped fire runestones on the golem. Explosions swallowed the Lord of Wrath, his chest te cracking and gears flying out of his left shoulder. However, when they moved around for a second run, the Demon Ancestor grabbed a handful of debris with his free hand and threw it at the flyers. The stones flew across the air with lethal speed and precision. A wyvern had its wings shredded; another saw its head shattered like a watermelon. The others either lost control of their flight or lost their riders on impact. Verni and her firehawk alone managed to avoid the deadly counterattack. They circled above the golem, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

    Soraseo charged at the golem once more and jumped into the air with the grace of a bird taking flight. Her de whistled and screeched when its edge struck the golems left nk. This time, Soraseo did more than chip away at the enemys armor. I couldnt tell whether it was an ident or her power informed her of the perfect spot to target, but the results spoke for themselves: the cracks opened by Vernis bombardment ruptured further and reached all the way to the golems shoulder. The pressure finally proved too much. Vibrations sent bolts and yellow mes flying in all directions, and the golems severed left arm fell onto the ground.

    Belgoroth lost patience with Soraseos interference this time. He swung his ymore with his right hand the moment her feet touched the ground, the de leaving an arc of me in its wake. Soraseos power guided her movements. She dodged the attack in a blitz of speed andnded atop a pile of debris, unharmed and defiant.

    Since he couldnt strike at her body, Belgoroth swiftly switched targets.

    Your father died cursing your name, the Lord of Wrath said, his thundering voice echoing across the battlefield. <em>Kinyer</em>.

    He struck at her <em>spirit</em>.

    And it worked. Soraseo froze in ce, her proud sword briefly lowering. Her hesitationsted a few seconds. That was enough.

    Had you not taken the love of his life, sorrow would not have imed his heart. Belgoroths visor burned brighter than the sun. You slew the two souls who brought you into the world, mother-killer.

    His fiery gaze lit Soraseo up like a candle.

    It happened in an instant. Yellow mes surged from his visor in a torrent of light that swallowed my friend whole. Her armors red paint melted as the fire kissed her flesh. My friends legs failed her, and for the first time since Id met her, Soraseo <em>screamed</em>.

    My heart sank in my chest. The searing heat of the battlefield could not warm up the blood freezing in my veins. I briefly forgot all about the n and my exhaustion alike. I outpaced Selestine herself in the blink of an eye as I rushed to Soraseos side. I was too slow, and Belgoroth raised his foot to crush her.

    A shadow descended from the sky with a screech.

    Verni and her firehawk fell upon Belgoroth in a surge of speed. The birds talons closed on the golems shoulders and then lifted it a few feet above ground; its wings frantically pped so fast they whipped up a strong wind, yet they still managed to drag the much heavier golem away. Belgoroths foot missed Soraseo by a few inches.

    The firehawk immediately aimed for the nearest burning building, clearly intent on crashing Belgoroth against its side. The Lord of Wrath swiftly skewered it midflight with the tip of his sword. The hawk let out a screech as its foe and rider both crashed into the mes with it. The building crumbled at the impact in a bright sh of silver and yellow lights

    I was too focused on Soraseo to take a closer look, or even consider the implications. I reached my friend swiftly as she rolled into the dirt. I knelt at her side and immediately winced upon seeing the damage. She had burns on the few patches of her face exposed behind her helmet. Her armor had be so hot I dared not touch it. It was cooking her <em>alive</em>.

    Im here! I told Soraseo, even though she couldnt see me. I reached for my waterskin and poured all of its content on the mes consuming her and watched it turn to steam the moment it touched her. I might as well have tried to douse a volcano with a bucket. Sell me your mes! Sell me your burns! A package deal with your sword, your armor, your helmet, <em>anything</em>!

    I only received screeches of agony for an answer.

    There was no death more painful than being burned alive.

    Still, I refused to give up. With Soraseo unable to form a contract with me, I removed my cloak and used it to smother the mes the best I could. Belgoroth arose from the burning building right as I revealed myself to the world. His thick metal frame loomed over us like the shadow of death.

    With no other choice left, I stepped in front of Soraseo and faced the Lord of Wrath. I challenged him with my best weapon; the only one that could save me now.

    My words.

    Sheath your sword, Belgoroth! I shouted as loud as my lungs would allow it. I havee to save your soul!

    The Lord of Wrath reacted as I expected him to: by ignoring me and raising his sword for the kill. Thus I followed with a more cutting strike.

    What did I expect from a <em>coward </em>too afraid to repent! I taunted him. A weakling too scared to be a <em>true </em>Knight!

    The Demon Ancestors arm jammed and his sword remained pointed at the sky. The full weight of his attention fell upon me.

    I had walked into the heart of a Blight, faced demons in battle, and met with the Devil of Greed herself. None of these experiences couldpare with the lethal pressure radiating from Belgoroth. The very air burned within my lungs; the smell of blood, sulfur, and rotting corpses overwhelmed my senses. A tidal wave of fury and murderous anger overwhelmed me. Each breath felt like myst. I wanted toy down, to beg, to <em>die</em>, all to escape the torment ahead of me.

    I had none of Soraseos ungodly agility and reflexes. A twitch of Belgoroths wrist would end me forever.

    But the Lord of Wrath held back his sword.

    I have nothing to prove to you, Belgoroth replied with seething hatred. I didnt buy it. The fact he answered me at all proved otherwise. Who are you to challenge me, fool?

    A better Hero than you! I countered.

    When a surge of light erupted behind the Demon Ancestors visor, I knew I had guessed right. I had detected a chink in Belgoroths armor in the way he addressed us mere mortals. The same weakness that all the angry, self-righteous types shared; the frailty I had glimpsed inside Florences heart.

    Their deep-seated need to justify themselves.

    <em>The sages say the quill is stronger than the sword. </em>I prayed that they were right as I opened my mouth again. Daltia changed, you know? She shed her demonhood and became a Hero again. You can do the same. You can be a true Knight once more.

    This is a trap, Belgoroth said, wisely. A distraction.

    I didnt bother lying. He had Soraseos power. He would detect all hints of a lie. The best I could do was to give him a genuine offer.

    We do not need to continue this pointless feud, I argued without answering him. Lay down your sword, renounce your cursed mark, and cast away your demonhood. If Daltia seeded, so can you.

    You know nothing, false Hero. Belgoroth waved his sword at the sea of fire around us. Look upon your fellow mans work. These mes burn with a thousand years of hatred. Were your hearts pure, I would not bepelled to destroy you.

    You are notpelled to do <em>anything</em>, I replied. Yes, mayhaps a Demon Ancestor of Wrath will always exist in one form or another, but it doesnt have to be <em>you</em>. It doesnt have to be <em>Belgoroth</em>.

    You are wrong, Merchant. Once my Berserk me consumes this loathsome world, naught will pray for a Demon Ancestor to grant their wish. Ashes cannot hate each other. The dead cannot covet the goods of the living, nor wage war.

    I held my head high. Is it the world that you hate, or yourself?

    Both. He did not deny it. All I seek is oblivion. Pangeals cleansing shall be my salvation.

    You can be saved without taking a single life. I removed my glove and unveiled my Merchant mark. I will buy your curse, if you let me.

    A tense silence fell upon us, followed by a raindrop. Dark clouds answered Selestines prayers and shed tears onto thend below. They began to douse the mes, cloaking Belgoroths melting frame in a cloud of steam. Soraseo wheezed behind me, critically wounded, but still alive.

    I can make a deal with you. Take away the anger that burns inside your heart. Your fury, your ability to hate, your sins everything that makes you the Lord of Wrath. I pointed at his own ymore. Sell them to me alongside your sword, as you once bound your soul to your bloody adamantine relic. My ss will merge your malevolence and metal together.

    Belgoroths burning visor let out a spark of scorn. No steel sword may hold all of the worlds hatred.

    Maybe, maybe not, I conceded. Maybe a mindless avatar of wrath will break out of the sword the moment we form our pact. The point is, it wont be <em>you </em>anymore. I cant affect your soul, but I <em>can </em>separate your demonhood from it.

    My mark shone brightly on my skin, but it did not hurt me the way it did when I offered to purchase a mans soul. Would it allow a trade of this magnitude? I couldnt tell, but I was willing to try.

    I can give you a fresh start, I continued. Turn you mortal and allow you to die with dignity, if thats truly your dearest wish. All you need to do is <em>sheath your sword</em>.

    Belgoroth nced at my mark, then at Soraseo grunting in agony behind me. You hate me for ying your allies, yet you would offer me peace?

    Yes, I replied without hesitation. I hated him, I loathed him, but I would stand by my word. If Eris was entitled to a second chance, so were her colleagues. Yes, I will.

    Belgoroth stared at me in utter silence. His ability to understand motions allowed him to detect any hint of a lie in my bodynguage. When he found none, when he realized I would follow through with my word, it took him aback.

    I think I think that for a brief moment, the brave and noble Knight once chosen by the Goddess herself to bear her mark considered my offer. The doubts he had carried with himself for centuries resurfaced stronger than ever.

    In a single pulse of my heartbeat, the Demon Ancestor of Wrath pondered the pointlessness of his own existence. Before him stood the opportunity to truly prove himself worthy of the unstained Knight mark he had corrupted; to give up the mantle of cruelty which had defined him and take his first step on the noble, harsh path to redemption. For the first and perhaps only time in his long existence, Belgoroth truthfully considered repenting.

    The mes of his hatred swiftly extinguished thatst glimmer of hope in an instant.

    If you had noticed your mothers cough earlier, Belgoroth said, his voice a raging inferno, She would still be alive.

    His cruel taunt hit me like a dagger to the heart.

    You think protecting these people will let you atone for your negligence, you useless son? Belgoroth mocked me, his own words echoing those I had told myself countless times. You couldnt even save your own flesh and blood.

    At least Im trying! I replied defiantly. You <em>gave up</em>! Back then and now!

    I see you fight with words, as all Merchants do. Belgoroth raised his sword again, its tip zing with infernal mes. Pray that your weapon skills prove great

    Roots surged from the ground under Belgoroth. I couldnt tell whether Mr. Fronan waited for Belgoroth to attack, or if he had hoped the Demon Ancestor would ept my proposal, but he now acted swiftly. Belgoroth tried to sweep away the nts the moment they burst out of the ground, only for barrels of water to fall on him out of nowhere and throw him off his aim.

    Marikas magic surged and the golems legs copsed swiftly under their own weight. The zing sword crashed to the side with a ng of steel, alongside the severed hand that once wielded it. I saw Selestine rush to the golems armless and limbless torso, the mere touch of her hand on the metal suppressing the baleful mes inside it. Belgoroths helmet lost its fiery luster.

    I shook my head sadly, then immediately knelt to Soraseos side. She struggled to breathe and barely hung on to life by a thread. I grabbed her hand and held it tight.

    Its alright, I promised. You are safe. You are not alone.

    She never was.

 Chapter Thirty-Seven: Peace Through Iron

    Chapter Thirty-Seven: Peace Through Iron

    I spent the better part of the night after the battle assisting Mr. Fronan in the rescue efforts.

    Walbourgs packed and wooden suburbs had proven a fertile ground for Belgoroths mes to spread through. Thankfully, we managed to contain the inferno within an hour or so. Duchess Griseldas witchcrafters proved as adept at putting out fires as in starting them, and she quickly mobilized the city watch to assist in the effort. Mr. Fronans connection to the local nts proved invaluable in detecting civilians trapped under debris, while I used my powers to shift injuries around in order to support the citys overwhelmed healers.

    The amount of casualties had reached seven hundred by the time I returned to the manor to check on Soraseos progress. A high number, but thankfully far less than what a Blight could have caused. Meanwhile, both Selestine and Marika worked tirelessly on our fellow Hero; exorcizing her corruption, tending to her burns, and doing all that was in their power to keep her alive. I wished I could have helped them, but Soraseo was too incoherent to agree to a trade.

    I missed Colmar. His medical expertise would havee in handy to save Soraseos life. The burns she suffered from should have killed her twice over. Worse, Belgoroths unholy mes carried his vile essence. Our beloved Monk suffered more exposure in an instant than days inside a Blights center.

    Her odds of survival were grim.

    <em>At least she has a chance to survive</em>, I tried to tell myself. I couldnt say the same for Verni, whose charred bones we found under the remains of her in mount. She had dared to engage Belgoroth in melee to save Soraseo and paid the ultimate price for her bravery.

    I would have loved to say that her sudden demise saddened me. s, I had barely known her for a few days and we didnt have time to truly talk outside of a military context. As awful as it sounded, I mourned the loss of the Cavalier more than the woman who wielded the mark.

    At least the Fatebinder quickly released the ss back into the world. Witnesses had seen the mark fly out of Mount Erebia and further north.

    Towards Archfrost.

    If Belgoroths devastating rampage hadnt put the final nail in the coffin of Walbourgs rebellion, this news would. The support of a Heroa Vassal ss of the Knight no lesshad given the duchys rebellion a degree of legitimacy. For their champion to die and their mark to select a loyalist recement threatened their credibility. It made it seem as if the heavens themselves had sided with Archfrost.

    Ironic as it sounded, the Lord of Wrath might have inadvertently helped our peace along.

    I was sitting in the manors lobby, waiting for the door to Soraseos chambers to openboth Marika and Selestine insisted I leave them alone and let them focus on herwhen a familiar cloud of smoke popped out of nowhere beside me.

    From your expression and the smoke outside, I assume you faced your share of troubles, Eris said upon materializing. She carried a travel bag filled to the brim with letters. Somehow, I always manage to arrivete to tragedies.

    Better than to arrive early and watch them unfold, I replied, my arms crossed and a scowl on my face. We fought Belgoroth.

    Eris eyes immediately widened in rm. I quickly recountedst nights events to her as she sat on my left, the both of us waiting for the door to open; whether Selestine and Marika would bring us good or bad news remained to be seen.

    You tried to redeem Bel? Eris sounded vaguely bemused that I even tried it. And he listened?

    For about a minute and a half. Long enough to trick him at the very least. You know whats the saddest part? I think that he resents what he has be deep down.

    Eris looked away, her gaze heavy with remorse. You mean, what Ive made of him?

    I would have liked to tell Eris not to me herself, but she contributed too much to Belgoroths madness to listen to me.

    At least you tried to turn your life around, I pointed out. When I presented the same offer to Belgoroth, he soundly rejected me. He <em>chose </em>evil.

    Evil? The word drew a chuckle from Eris. When the Goddess selected him as the first Knight, Bel vowed never to rest until evil had been driven from Pangeal. I remember what he meant by evil.

    I would say burning down a town for the sake of mindless destruction counts.

    True. But what about those who watched it happen and did nothing? Does inaction count as evil? Does ignorance? Eris sighed. Bel came to agree. Over time, his definition of evil grew to epass all of humanity.

    Himself included? I asked. Does he consider his mad vision of an oath more important than life itself?

    Eris confirmed my suspicions with a sharp nod. There is nothing more stubborn than a pdin who stays true to his vows, <em>especially </em>when they conflict with reality. In his mind, destroying the world and himself is the only way to stay true to his principles.

    I snorted in disdain. I put great value in my promises too, but I wasnt afraid of changing my mind when the facts changed. Belgoroth would rather sacrifice minions on the altar of honor rather than lose face in his mind. He did not deserve pity.

    I will say it again, Eris: I offered him a helping hand and he spat at it, I consoled her. He could have cast away his anger out of his own free will and instead chose to wallow in it. Do not me yourself for his choice. You helped create him, but he decided to stay that way himself.

    Thats the saddest part, Robin, Eris replied with sorrow. After centuries of ughter and tarnishing his ss, I dont think Bel will change his ways. The other me hopes to eventually reason with him, to control him, but shes wrong. Bel will never stop killing. If he turned his head to look back, he would have to face the mountains of corpses he piled up, the oceans of blood he shed, and the mistakes he made.

    Thats pathetic, I replied without any sympathy. Cowardly, even.

    I wouldnt be so judgemental, Robin. We are all running from <em>something</em>. Eris stared at the door, her legs crossed. It always catches up to us in the end.

    My jaw tightened. I wouldntpare Belgoroth and Soraseoconsidering the weight of their respective sinsbut I could see the simrities. My friend tried to escape her crushing guilt in death. She might very much find it.

    We didnt find Belgoroths sword in the Abattoirs wreckage, I said, changing the subject. Will didnt have it anymore.

    The Knot of Wrath smuggled it further north, Eris replied with confidence. I believe I mentioned that Colmar wasnt the only beastman among us. The other, the Hunter, lives on the other side of the northern mountains.

    The Hunter? I recalled that it was a Vassal ss of the Ranger, but I couldnt remember its power for the life of me.

    His ss is mines opposite, in a way, Eris exined. I can <em>go </em>to any ce I want; while he can <em>find </em>whatever he wants. When I asked him to find the sword, his power led him straight to the City of Wrath.

    The City of Wrath The very name sent shivers down my spine. Belgoroth massacred an entire kingdom when he first fell, and the atrocity created a Blight so powerful it opened a rift between life and death: the Deadgate which Soraseo sought to ess so desperately.

    We knew from Florence that Belgoroth had been trapped in the City of Wrath and that his sword was the key needed to free him. With the seal now so thin that Belgoroth could possess a golem, his escape was now all but inevitable.

    When do you think he will break out? I asked Eris.

    I cannot say yet, Eris replied with a sigh. Im sure hell escape before summers end at the very least.

    And what will he do once he does? Eris was the one who knew Belgoroth best, so I assumed she would know. Weve heard reports that beastmen tribes are gathering an army. Will Belgoroth lead them to march on Archfrost?

    Lead? Eris scoffed. Bel does not <em>lead</em>, he <em>ughters</em>. He will kill anyone that stands in his way and the beastmen army will pick on his leftovers. Once he has in all of Archfrost, he will then turn around and execute the fools who followed him.

    Afterst night, I very much believed her. Belgoroth would not stop until he had burned the entire world to cinders.

    Do you think we can beat him? I asked her. Ourst battle made me realize that as dangerous as the Knight and its Vassals were individually, thebination of all of their abilities made Belgoroth exponentially more dangerous. How could Rnd hope to duel a foe who not only shared his power, but could also predict all his movements and ride any mount?

    The Knight and his Vassal sses might match Bel if they join forces and fight as one, but defeating him is only half the problem. Eris scowled. So long as a single person wishes harm on another, Bel will get back up. Cut his head off, and he will put it back on his neck. Burn him up, and he will arise from the ashes. Impale him, and he will wield the stake like a spear.

    I realized I should consider Belgoroth a natural disaster rather than a powerful foe. We might as well be discussing how to stop a hurricane. A sentient, <em>malicious </em>hurricane.

    Then what other options do we have? I pondered out loud. Can we seal him away again?

    Im not sure if thats possible anymore, Eris confessed. Lady Alexios has been working on new seal designs, but Bel had centuries to ponder his defeat. Im not certain the same trick will work twice on him. Moreover, his old prison was powered by peoples fear of the Demon Ancestors. That feeling has waned over the centuries.

    I sank deeper into my chair. You have a wonderful way of lifting my spirits, you know that?

    Would you rather that I lie about our chances? Eris shook her head and denied me that kindness. I wont deny that Bel is a tough customer. However, we do have many Heroes at our disposal to fight him off. Im sure we can figure a way out of this bind.

    For the sake of victory, I had to share her optimism. I tried to consider the problem from different angles. Did we need to confront Belgoroth at all? Avoiding a costly battle at all could prove a victory in itself.

    Belgoroths Blights are connected to the City of Wrath, I recalled. Do you think Colmars n to disrupt the former might work on thetter? If we dropped a payload of Sanctuary-charged runestones in the center of Belgoroths power, would it prevent his escape?

    To my sorrow, Eris appeared less than convinced. Honestly, Robin, I wouldnt bet on it. Disrupting the Blights might dy the seals failure by a few years, but at this point, it <em>will </em>fail.

    In the absence of anything better, we might as well consider the option, I pointed out.

    If that n failed no, even if it seeded, it would only kick the Belgoroth issue down the line. He would return one day to confront a future generation of Heroes. One that might be less prepared and united than ours.

    What else could we do? Defeating Belgoroth in battle would prove a temporary measure at best if we couldnt contain him afterward. If I could trick the Lord of Wrath into a deal, then mayhaps

    No, no, no. I was thinking it all wrong. A Merchants role wasnt to fight battles or win them, but to support their allies, foster wealth, and forge unbreakable bonds. My strength didnte from the skills I had gathered, but from the friends I had made and my understanding of the collective consciousness that drove our powers.

    I had been considering how to defeat <em>Belgoroth</em> when I should have been pondering how to destroy the <em>Lord of Wrath</em>. If Eris redemption didnt put an end to the Devil of Greed, then I needed to find another approach.

    I reviewed all I had learned so far: how Daltia used soulforged adamantine tools to grant her allies immortality, how the flow of negative essence and their bearers ws corrupted the original sses and eventually turned them into the Demon Ancestors. A somewhat clear picture formed in my mind.

    Eris, I said after some thoughtful consideration. Stop me if Im wrong.

    With pleasure, my dear Merchant, she teased me. What troubles you?

    The Demon Ancestors exist in their current forms because of three elements. I raised three fingers to illustrate my point. The Heroes they used to be; the soulforged adamantine object tying their immortality to a worldly concept; and one of the original Seven Great sses.

    Eris squinted at me. That is correct.

    We know what happens when we remove the original Hero from this infernal triad, I exined. They lose the corrupted ss and their Demon Ancestor identity survives as a bodiless incarnation of sin tied to their adamantine object. If we somehow convinced Belgoroth to repent, his demonic self would remain as a spirit bound to his old mark and sword.

    Considering that the Heros repentance wouldnt put an end to the Demon Ancestor, I had to consider other options. I wanted more than a temporary fix. I wanted a <em>solution</em>.

    Suppose that, instead of removing the original Hero, we subtracted another element of the triad, I suggested. Since youre the one most familiar with the matter, what do you think would happen if we somehow managed to destroy Belgoroths sword?

    Thats not possible, Eris replied bluntly. Not unless we manage to put an end to the very concept of anger. Im confident in our skills, Robin, but this task is beyond any of us.

    Its only a thought experiment, I replied. Please indulge me.

    Eris intertwined her fingers and pondered my demand. If we somehow managed to destroy Bels sword I suspect he would be as mortal as you are. However, the corrupted Knight ss would likely pass on to another bearer should he perish.

    Interesting, I muttered. I had half-expected that answer. How would this process unfold?

    If only I knew, handsome. Eris shrugged her shoulders. Our generation had no Fatebinder to regte our marks. The Knight ss might return to the Goddess, or more likely, it would immediately select a bearer that matches its temperament. Which, considering its corruption, would likely be some bloodthirsty madman or berserker.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    So if we destroy Belgoroths sword and then y him, the title of the Lord of Wrath will be an inheritable curse. A prospect hardly any better than sealing an immortal demon for a short while. Then, what if we removed the corrupted mark?

    That too is impossible, Eris replied. The original seven were gifts from the Goddess Herself. Even the Artifacts couldnt alter them.

    But their wielders could, I pointed out.

    Yes, Eris confirmed with a sorrowful expression. A bearers sins can stain the marks. Hence why the Artifacts put in failsafes in the second generation. Her eyes suddenly lightened up. Wait, I see where this is going. You arent considering how to <em>destroy </em>the original mark, but how to <em>purify </em>them.

    I am, I confirmed with a sharp nod. I mean, it does make sense, no? If we can purify a Blight with a steady flow of positive essence, why not a corrupted ss too? What was tainted can be cleansed.

    In theory, Eris confirmed, albeit with heavy skepticism. However, so long as the marks bearers are bound to the object fueling their immortality, their sses are constantly exposed to a flow of sinful essence. We cannot clean a cloth constantly drenched in tar.

    But suppose we do purify the mark and dissociate it from the triad, I insisted. What would happen then?

    The former Hero would be an immortal human wielding a powerful cursed relic, Eris replied. Bel was a peerless knight, but he would be no match for the likes of Rnd or Soraseo without the mark. A good prison could probably hold him indefinitely.

    Of all three scenarios, this was the one I would favor most. This oue also opened the possibility of imprisoning the fallen Heroes and forcing them to pay for their crimes; or at least contain them. Maybe some of them would try to turn their lives around like Eris did. A man could always dream.

    I understood the problem a little better now. A Demon Ancestors existence rested on a self-reinforcing loop. The ss granting them extraordinary power was constantly kept corrupted by a flow of sins, itself channeled through an indestructible object bound to the bearers soul and tied to a concept born of the collective consciousness of all mortals.

    The lynchpin was the corrupted ss itself. The marks powers were what separated a Demon Ancestor from a mundane fiend or criminal. I could only see two ways to permanently neutralize them: either end the sin that fueled their corruption, or purify the mark that granted them their power.

    Youpared a marks corruption to a cloth being constantly tainted by a flow of tar, I told Eris. If we cannot end that flow, would preventing it from reaching the mark be enough?

    Like raising a barrier between all of the worlds anger and the Knight ss? Eris stroked her chin. An interesting idea I suppose it will take a very long time to purify the mark, though it should make it <em>possible</em>.

    Then the idea was worth a shot. So you agree with the concept.

    The hypothesis is sound, Eris confirmed with a chuckle. However, I draw a nk on how to test it out. The mark is bound to Bels soul, and thus the sword he hid it within.

    True, I conceded. Belgoroth refused to form a contract with me, so my power wouldnt help separating them. Neither could it fully separate a mark from the soul, or Eris would have fully lost her connection to Daltia and her demonic self, however remote it had be. So far though, it sounds easier to achieve than ending all hatred in the world.

    It is, Eris confirmed. She searched in her bag and dropped a pile of documents onto myp. I immediately recognized the treaty draft Id asked her to show Rnd. This should prove a step in the right direction. Our prince charming agreed to your idea of forming a parliament without any reservation.

    Truly? I had hoped for that oue while still fearing failure: I trusted Rnds good heart, but I did ask him to concede some power andpromise with the faction that slew his father.

    I read through the draft and checked the annotations. Besides a few minor editswhich I quickly recognized as Thereses handworkmost of the structure remained the same. Rnd had decided to put the greater good ahead of his absolute kingship. His heart remained in the right ce.

    Did Therese convince him to sign it? I asked.

    Clever boy, Eris replied with a chuckle. I suspect these two havee to an arrangement. Rnd reigns while she governs. The sword and the quill.

    Quite the nickname for future generations, I mused out loud. The question of an heir might prove problematic down the line, but I trusted Rnd and Therese to find an arrangement of some kind. You lifted a burden off my shoulders. Ive lost count of the hours I spent agonizing over each word.

    Please, we dont y in the same league. Eris patted her bag and the letters it overflowed with. She should be a mailman if she ever wished to retire from the Hero business. I also present you with Lady Alexios correspondence with her niece. I was with her when the Cavaliers mark returned to the roost.

    I smirked ear to ear. I assume well avoid a religious purge?

    Lady Alexios is open to apromise, though she would rather discuss it in person at Rnds coronation, Eris answered my smile with one of her own. Both parties understand a war will only strengthen Bel, so Im optimistic theyll settle for an amicable divorce.

    At least this marriage would end better than Marikas. I allowed myself a sigh of relief. After so many tense calls, it felt good to clean up those messes.

    Were doing a pretty good job, I mused. Were ending wars before they can start.

    Trust me, Robin. The world would be a better ce with more merchants and diplomats than warriors. Eris tilted her head to the side. Somehow, I can tell victory leaves you unsatisfied.

    You do know me well. I kept thinking back to Belgoroths taunt. That I had let my mother die and sought to help others only as a way to atone for it. Perhaps he had nailed the core of my problem. Where do people like us go when were no longer needed?

    Where the smell ofmerce carries us. Eris gave me a strange, thoughtful look. Dont take it the wrong way, Robin, but perhaps it is time for you to focus on yourself rather than others.

    I chuckled. Should I spend more time in front of a mirror?

    No need, you always look impable, Eris teased me, though her expression darkened slightly. Instead, I suggest that you take time to focus on building your own strengths rather than fixing the weaknesses of others.

    My brows furrowed on their own. Come again?

    External satisfaction is fickle because it relies on the will of others, which we can never control, Eris exined herself. It binds us to outside forces and grants them power over us. True happinesses from within.

    From her expression, I could tell she spoke from experience. Youve struggled with it yourself.

    Yes. Eris lips twisted into a deep scowl. I thought I could fix the world, and when it refused to conform to my expectations, I <em>forced </em>it to. All Merchants stumble on that slippery slope at one point or another.

    I pondered her words thoughtfully. Ever since Id left Ermeline, I sought to rid this world of corruption and save Archfrost from its downward spiral. But now that victory was within sight, I realized it brought me little satisfaction.

    I didnt regret helping others. If I could go back in time, I would still travel back to Snowdrift all over again. However, Eris had a point. I couldnt keep throwing myself at problems expecting that fixing them would bring me joy; because if I did, then I would care more about my satisfaction than those I was trying to help. That kind of mindset was bound to backfire someday.

    I was mulling over what to do when the door finally opened. Selestine walked out, her creased eyes surrounded by ck rings. My heart skipped a beat in my chest.

    She will live, Selestine reassured me.

    I sank back in my chair with a sigh of relief, as did Eris. Our friend had survived in spite of her best efforts.

    Thank the Goddess, I whispered. Thank you, Selestine.

    She will require a long rest, physically and mentally, Selestine said as she turned to me. You should go talk to her, Robin. Marika assured me the three of you were quite close.

    I set aside the treaty and jumped to my feet. I could read between the lines. Soraseo needed moral support. I left Eris and Selestine behind to discuss the Reformist-Abbey settlement before walking into the bedroom.

    I found Marika sitting next to Soraseos bed. Soraseo herself was wrapped up in bandages soaked in medicinal poultice, her damaged armor piled on a table nearby. She had lost her hair and every patch of her body showed signs of burns.

    At least she was alive. So long as Soraseo was coherent enough to trade with me, I could partition her wounds and offload them to volunteers. I would bet many of Walbourgs citizens would dly offer a patch of skin to a Hero who valiantly defended their lives and homes. The moment I met Soraseos hollow eyes, however, I realized I would soon face a dangerous obstacle.

    My power couldnt help those who refused to trade.

    She had us worried for a moment, Marika told me with her warmest smile. A pile of ckened runestones sat near her. Belgoroths corrupted essence raged inside them. Selestine is an amazing healer and witchcrafter. I wonder if she has a Mage or two somewhere in her family tree.

    She might, I replied. She certainly had more than humans among her rtives. How are you feeling, Soraseo?

    My friend responded with a nk look devoid of feelings. The sight sent shivers down my spine. She had borne the same expression right before she threw herself at Belgoroth. I was speaking to a corpse on its way to the tomb.

    Marika and I exchanged a worried nce. We had to drag our friend out of her downward spiral before she sank any further.

    I confess I took the opportunity to peek over your correspondence, I admitted. I apologize for viting your privacy, but I had to know why you tried to throw your own life away.

    That, and I had to confirm whether Belgoroth spoke the truth when we battled. His power allowed him to wield words like weapons, but he could have woven lies or half-truths. And I was right.

    Soraseo did not answer. Her silence did not discourage me.

    Your father, the Shinkoku Emperor, perished of a stroke, and your brother will inherit the throne in your stead, I recounted, searching for any hint of a soul in those hollow eyes of hers. Is that why you tried to throw your life away? Because you me yourself for his death?

    Still no answer.

    Belgoroth said your father died of a broken heart and that he cursed you on his deathbed, but nothing indicates it in the letter you received, I insisted. He could have died of natural causes for all you know.

    Demons lie, Marika added. Thats what you say all the time. Dont trust anything he said.

    This time, Soraseo mustered the strength to raise her head at us.

    I have killed my mother, she confessed quietly.

    Marika clenched her jaw, while I listened in respectful silence.

    My heart had no intention, but my hand did the deed, Soraseo said, her voice breaking. When Father banished me, I asked him how I might earn his forgiveness. He ordered me to return with my mother or not at all.

    She had dedicated herself to an impossible quest, and now med herself for its predictable failure.

    Father died. My brother hates me. He shall not let me return home. Soraseo looked down at her bandaged hands. Did she imagine the blood she spilled dripping between her fingers? I can no longer wash away my shame.

    Dont say that, Marika insisted. She took Soraseos hands into her own, as if to warm them up. So long as you live, theres hope. Im sure well find a way to repeal your exile.

    Why? Soraseo swiftly retired her fingers out of Marikas grasp. My people loathe me. They loved my mother and I slew her. Should I return, I will find only scorn. Father could have absolved me, but he is gone too.

    Marikas words were heartfelt, but I could tell they had fallen on deaf ears. Soraseo had given up on redeeming herself. When a door was shut tight, forcing it to open would only break the hinges. I would better break in through the window. Find another entrance, another angle.

    I considered what to say. I had known Soraseo for months now, so I understood how she thought. Her life weighed littlepared to her principles.

    Verni died saving you, I said bluntly.

    Soraseos eyes darted at me in shock. From the re Marika sent my way, she and how Selestine carefully avoided mentioning it. I could guess why they would think adding more guilt on the tter might prove too much, but in this case, they misunderstood Soraseo. This woman had been willing to jump into an impossible quest in the hope of washing away her soiled honor.

    The Cavalier perished saving you from Belgoroth, I told Soraseo without sugarcoating anything. From the way she slightly recoiled, my words hit her like a hammer to the face. Did she die for nothing?

    Marika scowled at me. Robin

    Did she die for nothing? I repeated myself; and when I received no answer from Soraseo, I kept insisting. Will you let her die for <em>nothing</em>? Are you so <em>craven</em>?

    Soraseos hands curled into fists. I am no coward.

    If you wont live for yourself, then live for her. If Soraseo valued her honor more than her life, then I ought to turn it into a rope to salvation rather than a weight dragging her down. Verni had what, twenty, thirty years of life ahead of her? She gave them all to you, so you owe her a lifetime.

    It was a cheap blow, but one Soraseo couldnt ignore. Her eyes regained some flicker of light. I had inspired another emotion in them.

    Anger.

    I have taken countless lives, Soraseo replied with a baleful re. I have killed innocents. I have taken more years than you will ever see, Robin. My death

    Wont be <em>enough</em>, I cut in. Youre shortchanging the dead!

    Soraseo stared at me as if I had grown a second head, while Marika looked fit to gag.

    Short change? Soraseo repeated, though I could tell whether she struggled to understand the word or my meaning.

    Youve ended countless lives, and you hope to repay them with <em>one </em>death? I enlightened her. No merchant will ever take that deal. You want to know what it will cost to pay back your victims? Save as many lives as youve taken.

    That If Soraseo still had the skin for it, she would have blinked repeatedly. I cannot

    You can, and you must. I shrugged. Because in your case, to live is braver than to die.

    Soraseo clenched her jaw and fell back into a tense silence.

    Well let you rest for now, Marika said with a tone that brook no disobedience; neither from me nor Soraseo. We will check on you in the morning.

    Soraseo watched us leave without a word. I sincerely hoped my words had reached her. I doubted she would try something stupid like jumping out of the windowshe sought a glorious warriors death, not a shameful suicidebut the risk remained.

    Before we left her alone, I took a moment to activate the soundstone Soraseo recorded for me. The song of her biwa filled the air, smooth and melodious. I hoped music would help soothe her soul.

    That was harsh, Marika scolded me after we exited the room. Eris and Selestine were both gone by then. I supposed they decided to review the Fatebinders correspondence in a more private setting. Did you try to guilt-trip her out of her depression?

    If thats what it takes to save her life, I replied shamelessly. I wouldnt apologize for it.

    I dont approve of the method, but I hope itll work. Marika shook her head. Tonight was exhausting. Weve won, but I dont feel like celebrating.

    Not even your widowhood? I teased her, trying to lighten the mood. We would both need to rx a little. I would drink to that.

    You know I said I didnt care who killed Will, so long as he was out of my life? Marika scratched her cheek. Well, I was being truthful, but

    You thought his death would be the end of it all, I guessed. Instead of a new beginning.

    Yeah yeah, thats one way to put it. Marika let out a heavy sigh. Ive spent so long dealing with the mess Will left us with. The debt, the fear he woulde back to kill us now hes gone, Im not sure what to do next. Beni still wont talk to me, for a start.

    Give it time, I insisted. Its one thing to win the battle and another to heal its scars.

    Marika burst outughing. You sound like an elder pretending to be wise.

    Does that make my words untrue? I replied with a thin smile. Youre strong and smart, Marika. Youll figure things out.

    Careful, you smooth-talker you. I told you I cant standpliments. Marika stretched her back. Ill get back to work. It never fails to clear my mind.

    Might I suggest working on the airship? Call it a gut feeling or intuition, but I can tell our conflict with Belgoroth will soone to a close. <em>One way or another. </em>If that crybaby shares the same powers as Verni, he might confront us atop a winged monster. We must possess the means to challenge him for control of the skies.

    Yeah, I guess an airship would help if he flies at us on a dragons back. Marika crossed her arms. Alright. Ill get to work on it with Marwen at once.

    Thank you. I nced at the door to Soraseos room. And thanks for being there for her. Shell need us.

    The same goes for you, Robin. Marika excused herself with a pat on my shoulder. Night night.

    I returned the gesture and watched her leave for her workshop. My head remained heavy with questions. I needed to find a n to deal with Belgoroth, alongside a back-up or two. The enemy we would soon face demanded novel strategies.

    My gut told me that the keyy in our marks. The old and new generations were somehow connected enough for mine to resonate with Daltias in certain circumstances. I suspected this bond applied to all of the Seven Great sses.

    Perhaps I had approached the problem the wrong way. Diplomacy would never convince Belgoroth to stand down. No Merchant could defeat the Lord of Wrath.

    But a true Knight might.

    The next few weeks passed in the blink of an eye.

    Soraseo did not kill herself, much to my relief, though she still refused to talk to me or ept a trade to remove her injuries. Selestine at least managed to convince her to follow a strict essence therapy with her.

    I knew Soraseo would open up to us sooner orter. My friend was like a river whose calm surface hid powerful currents. She needed time and serenity to process her anger and the recent tragedies. Once she was ready, she would confront us for the better or worse.

    Eris left as swiftly as she showed up to deliver the Reformists answer to the Fatebinder, while Marika and Mr. Fronan started working on building up the airship. After the assault on her capital, Duchess Griselda proved more than willing to provide additional funds for our enterprise.

    Meanwhile, I spent my time alternating between helping Walbourg dealing with the fallout of Belgoroths attack and smoothing over the treaty. It had taken a while, but the lords of Walbourg finally understood they needed Archfrosts help as much as my homnd needed their own. Rnds honor and my power offered them a once-in-a-century opportunity for a bloodless, unbreakablepromise. I could only pray that they would take it.

    As a foreign diplomat, I was not allowed to observe the Estates-Generals deliberations, though Selestines allies kept me informed of the proceedings. When Duchess Griselda finally left her assemblys room after eight hours of discussion with a satisfied smile on her face, I already knew I had won.

    The Estates-General of Walbourg have decided, by a narrow majority of one-hundred sixty-one votes against one-hundred twenty-nine votes and ten abstentions, to reincorporate with the United Kingdom of Archfrost. Griselda presented me with a bill filled with signatures. My congrattions, Lord Waybright.

    The pleasure is mine, Lady Griselda. I epted the document with a warm, satisfied smile. You have proved that sometimes, the quill is mightier than the sword.

    I brokered peace between Archfrost and Walbourg.

    The civil war that imed the lives of hundreds of thousands wasing to a close. After all the struggles we went through, this news filled my heart with happiness. My homnd would finally mend its wounds.

    Soon, it would no longer need me.

    And I would have to live with it.

 Chapter Thirty-Eight: Interlude: The Knights

    Chapter Thirty-Eight: Interlude: The Knights

    The brave Knight marched into the throne room.

    The faint moonlight filtered through the dusty ck halls and reflected on his gilded armor. His footsteps broke the grim silence. The de of his sword creaked against the stone floor. His lion-helm allowed his eyes to peer into the darkness ahead and its dreadful master.

    The dark lord rested on a throne of rusted iron, his skeletal frame d in pitch-ck armor. Twin stars of ghost fire glittered beneath his horned helmet. Like all the soldiers of his cursednd, his flesh had long decayed to dust. Only his longsword, which rested to his right, remained clean and sharp.

    The Knights eyes wandered to the dark lords left. Princess Aleria of Olerth sat there, her hands bound by chains. She remained a fair maiden in spite of her current amodations, her fair face unblemished by bruises, her clothes cleaned of dust. Her captor at least retained enough chivalry to treat her well. The me of hope glittered in her purple eyes. The sword of freedom hade to rescue her atst.

    I knew they would send you, the dark lord said with scornful resignation. Those rotten people, too fearful to wage their own battles

    Release the girl, the Knight said, his voice booming like thunder.

    Is that why you are here? The dark lord rested his head on his gauntlet. Did her father offer you her hand? A duchy mayhaps? Your weight in gold?

    The Knight shook his head. Such promises did not appeal to him. I seek no other reward than her safety.

    Is that so? The dark lord sounded vaguely amused. What happened to my men?

    Defeated, all of them. The Knights de had sliced through their old bones and returned them to nothingness. Their souls have found rest.

    By your sword alone? Call me impressed, brave Knight. The dark lords praise sounded genuine enough. Entire armies cower at the sight of the living dead. Perhaps you will be the true end of me.

    It shall be my pleasure, and yours as well, I suspect, the Knight replied. Is that what you have been reduced to, Ser Gand? A fallen lord ruling a castle of the dead? There was a time when your name inspired trust rather than fear.

    What is left other than fear, when the people deny you their trust? The dark lord let out a deep, scornful grunt. We have fought for the people of thisnd. Died protecting them. When we rose again in their hour of need, refusing the peace of the grave for the sake of the living, their fickle love turned to scorn. Instead of giving us our just reward, they cast us aside. Called us abominations bereft of the Goddess grace.

    Bereft they were. The dead were not allowed to linger among the living. So said the Goddess when she departed this world and entrusted it to her chosen. The duty of returning the departed to the wheel of souls now befell to them in her absence.

    Then allow me to return you to Her embrace. The Knight raised his sword at the dark lord. Your long vigil hase to an end, Ser Gand.

    Or yours, mayhaps. The dark lord rose from his throne, his hand seizing his swords hilt with the slow, cold movement of the living dead. If you want your prize, Ser Lion, you maye and seize it.

    The Knight answered the duel request in a dash of speed, his adamantine ymore cutting through the air like steel through butter. The metal sang when it met his foes de. Ser Gand was as slow as a cier, but imcable in his offense. Each of his strikes carried the weight of his cursed soul. A single blow would cleave a horse in two.

    But the Knight was no less determined. He deftly parried each and every blow, then countered with swings of his own. The swordsmen waged a duel under the moonlight with a single witness. The winner, however, was never in doubt.

    Sharp the dark lords sword might be, it was only made of steel. Each exchange with the Knights adamantine de left it a little bit more notched. To prove it, he briefly lowered his defense and allowed the dark lord to strike at his armor. The undeads dulled de bounced off his challengers gilded chest te.

    The Knight took a step back and lowered his sword. If you have another weapon, he said. You should go pick it up.

    The dark lords hand tightened on his swords grip. Do you mean to insult me, Ser?

    Not at all, the Knight replied. It is hardly fair for me to win through equipment rather than skills at arms.

    So talented. The dark lords eyes burned with a cold blue light. So nave.

    His sword surged in a sh of blinding speed, its pointed end aiming straight for the narrow spot between his foes helmet and armor. A single slice to end it all.

    The Knight stopped the blow with azy parry. His de shattered the dark lords sword in two, one half flying across the room.

    I never pressed you once. The undead lord let out a gutturalugh. How frightful.

    You are beaten, Ser Gand, the Knight said as he struggled to hide his contempt for the cowardly move. You were a worthy foe.

    You lie poorly, child. You had strength to spare. The dark lord mustered what dignity he had left and bent the knee in quiet surrender. And yet, to expect honor from a foe and be angered when disappointed how can a man so strong be so weak of heart?

    The Knight drove his sword into the dark lords shriveled heart and returned him to the dust from which he came. The ck armor he wore copsed on itself and fell to the ground with naught but a void upying it.

    The Knight offered onest prayer for his defeated foe, then turned to the hostage. She looked at him with stars in her eyes. Her relief was a reward enough for her savior.

    Princess Aleria, your father sent me to rescue you. The Knight cut off the maidens chains with his sword, freeing her. Are you safe and sound?

    I am now, Ser. The girl smiled sweetly at her hero. Her long silver hair glowed in the moonlight over her flushed cheeks. If I may What is my saviors name?

    Belgoroth, Princess Aleria. The knight offered her his hand. A radiant mark burned beneath his gilded glove. Though my friends call me the Lion Knight.

    The princess smiled like the sun and looked straight into her saviors eyes, heedless to what expression the knights helmet hid underneath the gold.

    A scowl. <blockquote><em>Princess Aleria,</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>I hope you will forgive me for my sudden departure. A member of my order informed me of a dragons rampage in the south. I understand you wished me to be your partner for your birthday ball, but s, I must dance with death.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>I hope to return and visit you soon, if the opportunity allows it. The Kingdom of Olerth shall always remain my home.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Ser Belgoroth, Lion Knight, and Pdin of Olerth.</em></blockquote>

    Once a year, the Heroes gathered at the apex of the world. The Priest called the meeting early.

    Belgoroth always made it a point to arrive on time, but he wouldnt seed today. His steed Lionheart, a great winged manticore he had tamed in the southern inds beyond the sea, carried him above the sea of clouds. An endless expanse of white under a golden sun and a pure blue sky stretched before them.

    Belgoroth never failed to find the sight soothing. None of the conflicts and injustices from thend below could reach him above the clouds. Though the Knight carried on his holy mission with the utmost zeal, he often found his burden heavy to bear; when it became too much, he would retreat to the heavens above and bask in the light of andless world.

    He spent more and more time in the skytely.

    A single de of stone pierced the sea of clouds: Mount Erebias peak, where the Goddess originally descended upon Pangeal and then departed from. The First Temple loomed at its summit, its golden pirs akin to shining spears pointing at the heavens above. A great stone tform whose floor represented the symbol of the four artifacts glowed in their midst: it was there that Belgoroth received his ss and mission many years ago.

    Ten years ago, the Goddess Arcane, in her infinite wisdom, entrusted mankind with their own fate as she departed to the stars. She bestowed the Seven Great sses on the exemrs of their time as a final boon and testament to mortals achievements. Belgoroth would forever remember that moment, and the words they exchanged that day.

    <em>Raise your head, Belgoroth the Lion Knight,</em> the Goddess had said, her mask a golden mirror. <em>To you, bravest among the just, I bestow the Knight ss, master ofbat. The battlefield shall be your realm and justice your sword. Always wield it well in the defense of others.</em>

    <em>I swear to raise my sword in righteousness name alone, </em>Belgoroth had vowed. <em>I shall not rest until I have purged Pangeal of evil.</em>

    <em>Very well. Henceforth you shall strike down those who would despoil my creation. Let no sin go unanswered. </em>She had then put her marble hand on his shoulder, like a mother with her son.<em> Know that I shall return to Pangeal one day. I look forward to seeing the miracles you will aplish in my absence.</em>

    Belgoroth had held true to his vow to that day and he would die on that hill.

    But as the years passed, he was starting to wonder how to best live up to his promise.

    Belgorothnded his mount at the tforms edge and climbed down from its back. It was forbidden for men to sit in the Goddess abode, so the Heroes stood in a circle. His closest friend, Pazuzo the Bard, weed him with a bright smile. As usual, he was trying on a whole new set of clothes and hairstylea red and ck doublet that meshed well with his silver haircutwhich helped showcase his effeminate, handsome features. The entric Pazuzo always moved on from one flight of fancy to the next, even his own appearance, though Belgoroth could always count on him to look dashing.

    Bel, Bel, Bel, whats happening to you? Pazuzo asked with a slight chuckle. His voice at least remained as melodious as ever. Dont you know Im the one who should be fashionablyte?

    It is rare for you to arrivest, Daltia mentioned, her elegant figure draped in golden robes. Whereas Pazuzo never settled on a wardrobe, the Merchant always dressedvishly. She had traded her ck hair for silver and refined her face with creased cheeks. Belgoroth wondered whom she brought those features from.

    <em>She hasnt aged a day.</em> Belgoroth nced at his allies and realized most of them remained as full of youth and vigor as the day the Goddess entrusted them with their marks.<em> Only His Eminence and I bear the brunt of a decade.</em>

    Belgoroth pondered his words, as he always did. His power always suggested barbs and witty remarks when his friends teased him. It took him a moment to separate his ss proposals from his own thoughts.

    My apologies, my friends, Belgoroth replied with a slight bow. A forest fire dyed me. I had to stop to rescue people trapped by the mes.

    His Eminence Cipar let out a warm chuckle. No harm done, Ser Belgoroth. No one ought to arrive early by sacrificing innocent lives.

    Belgoroth respected all his fellow Heroes, but even he admitted he was closer to some than others. He got along well with Pazuzowith whom he had traveled with on many adventuresand Daltia, remained cordial to Belsara, hardly knew Shamshir the Rogue, and somewhat disliked Lahmia the Mage, whose obsession with witchcrafting often led her astray. Creating flying cities wouldnt ease the lives of peasants.

    Of all his colleagues, he admired His Eminence Cipar the Priest the most. The man had aged decades since he first anointed Belgoroth as a pdin twenty years ago, his trimmed raven beard and hair having long grayed into a silver mane. His sunken cheeks and dignified face bore the marks of time. The mans stormy gray eyes had lost none of their wisdom, however. As befitting of the Goddess own prophet, he wore a majestic white garb adorned with golden embroidery and gilded leaves.

    However regal his old mentor looked, Belgoroth immediately sensed his unease. His power let him detect the sublest shifts in the mans bodynguage; the faint furrowing of eyebrows, the slight tension in the wrinkled hands, the shape of a spine too straight

    Belgoroth had always known His Eminence as an unppable and benevolent man, who understood the Goddess will best among all of mankind. What could weigh on such an enlightened mind?

    Whatever it was, he would learn it soon. Lord Cipar swiftly opened the gathering with a question.

    Thank you all foring today, my friends, he said with the strong voice of one used for sermons. I have called this meeting to ask you all a question. His gray eyes appraised each of the Heroes in turn. Are we doing enough?

    A short silence followed, which Belgoroth broke first. No, he admitted. At least, not in my case. I endeavor to do my best, but I see injustices wherever I go.

    If we heard you, my friend, we would sacrifice sleep and hunt for orphans to save each day of the week, Pazuzu replied with a mirthless smile. He examined his nails with his purple eyes. s, I confess a certain unease myself.

    Unease? Daltia coughed. <em>You</em>?

    I have lost none of my debonair charm, my dear, but I admit I am struggling with inspirationtely, Pazuzo replied. Since my beautiful muse departed this world, my new performances do not quite match my expectations anymore. I have tried to find new models, but none can match a Goddess grace. Except our dear Belsara, who keeps growling at me whenever I approach her.

    I would dly pose for you, Daltia suggested lightly, while Belsara sneered in disdain at Pazuzo. You will have to pay extra for the nudes.

    I will keep that in mind, Pazuzo replied with a shrug. A polite way to say he didnt find Daltia inspiring. I fear I am bing <em>insipid</em>. Something is not right in this world.

    The world is not right, Belsara said gruffly. The Rangers voice was a whisper in the wind and a rustle in the leaves, the baubles and trinkets adorning her wild auburn hair jingling softly as she spoke. Her leaf-shaped emerald eyes sparkled with annoyance as her slim hands tightened tightly on her oaken staff. The northern men cut down groves to raise houses, starve rivers to build dams, and infringe on holy grounds.

    Daltia let out a shrug. Isnt it mans duty to bring civilization to the wilds, Belsara?

    Should men stealnds they never owned? Belsara countered with an annoyed scowl. Being one head taller than Daltia, she positively towered over the Merchant. The Goddess asked me to represent her other children before the assemblies of man, but one side does not y fair. The dragons and beasts of the earthin to me daily of human incursions into their territories. The Goddess awarded them with woods in which to live, but men keep cutting them down to fuel their forges fires. If this continues, I will have to retaliate.

    Belsara alone among the Heroes eschewed thepany of her kind, except for the few druids and ounders who lived by her example. Instead, she preferred to walk among beasts and befriend them. So great was her disdain for civilization that she wore a dress of flowers and leaves rather than silk and leather. The Goddess had tasked her with helping men find an equilibrium with her other creations, but Belsaras bitterness had only grown year after year.

    It is true that sphemous incursions into sacrednds have increased since the Goddess departure, among other troubling developments, Lord Cipar confirmed with a saddened sigh. As I speak these words, the realms of Ugallu and Nisroch have dered war on one another over some trivial border matter. I have done my best to convince both sides to reconsider for months and offered them a peaceful solution, which they both spit upon.

    You want our help in settling the dispute? Is that why you gathered us? Pazuzo asked with a shrug. I suppose it would break my monotony, but my voice was made for greater deeds than reasoning with fools.

    Cipar answered the Bards cockiness with a faint smile. Mayhaps you are right, Pazuzo, he said. Maybe we were made for better things.

    Something in the old mans tone bothered Belgoroth. What do you mean, Your Eminence?

    A thought has crossed my mindtely, Ser Belgoroth. His Eminence looked up to the heavens above. The Goddess chose us to enforce her providence in her absence. To shepherd the world towards a brighter future. She endowed us with her trust and great powers so that we would carry out that holy task.

    Thank you for the history lesson, Pazuzo replied with heavy sarcasm, which drew a re from Belgoroth. But does your rambling have a point?

    Lord Cipars gaze hardened like steel. Why must we suffer the will of fools?

    The sheer contempt in the holy mans voice, so unlike his usually boundless patience, took Belgoroth aback. Even the likes of Shamshir the Rogue and Lahmia the Mage, who barely bothered to attend these meetings, turned their heads to listen.

    The king of Nisroch owes his authority to his bloodline, and the princes of Ugallu to the wealth of their aristocracy, His Eminence said. We derive our authority from the Goddess Herself. Hence I ask you, my fellow Heroes: why are they allowed to rule over the many and lead them astray, when people ought to follow <em>our </em>wisdom?

    Are you suggesting we overthrow these nations rulers, Your Eminence? Belgoroth asked, utterly bbergasted.

    If necessary, yes. Lord Cipars jaw tightened in resignation. If rulers will not listen to reason, Ser Belgoroth, what other option do we have other than force?

    Shamshir the Rogue raised a gloved hand to their throat and mimicked a shing motion. Even after all this time, Belgoroth couldnt tell whether that ck hood hid a womans face or a mans; his own power kept sending him confusing signals when it analyzed their movements, and they never spoke. He hardly knew anything about the Rogue besides the basics either. They were one of the few people bold enough to steal from the Goddess, and the only one cunning enough to get away with it. Belgoroth never learned what they had taken exactly, except that they eventually returned it. Apparently, they had stolen from the Goddess to prove that they could. Their moxie impressed their divine patron enough for her to grant them a mark.

    <em>Shamshir ckfingers, you have reminded me of my own frailty, </em>he recalled the Goddess saying. <em>To honor your bravery and cunning, I bestow the Rogue ss upon you, master of secrets. You shall teach the powerful the sting of loss, so they may never grow overly proud.</em>

    Belgoroth doubted the wisdom of empowering a thief with a Heros duties, even a talented one, but it wasnt his ce to question the Goddess wisdom.

    However Perhaps the current situation warranted their services. Belgoroth found the thought of an assassination dishonorable, but some careless rulers ought to be punished for their crimes. When they blundered, thousands suffered.

    I can think of a nation in need of a leadership change, Daltia mused, her eyes sharp and calcting. A coup or assassination might be a bridge too far, however.

    Commoners besiege my groves, not kings, Belsara added. I do agree we arent doing enough. I will have to <em>make </em>them stop if they wont.

    His Eminence appraised his colleagues one by one. What of you, Lahmia?

    I do not care for petty politics, the Mage said. She was the most petite of the Heroes, a thin woman with crimson hair and pinkish eyes swirling with essence. Her wealth of runestones and the power suffusing her robes belied the strength hidden inside her frail frame. However, you may count on my magic if you request my help.

    I see, His Eminence said before turning to thest of the Heroes. Ser Belgoroth? Do you have anything toment on?

    You shall take no lover and father no children, Belgoroth recited without hesitation. You shall treat all fairly. You shall wear no crown and rule nond. You shall oppose evil great and small. You shall ask for no reward and ept none. You shall notpromise on your duties. You shall be the first to fight injustice and never shall you retreat.

    He knew these oaths by heart.

    I have sworn never to reign, Your Eminence, Belgoroth reminded Lord Cipar. While I agree these foolhardy rulers ought to be punished for their greed, it is not my ce to sit on their thrones. I fight with swords, not withws.

    His Eminence smiled warmly. I understand your position, and I do not wish for you to act against your conscience. However, I fear that in standing idle we encourage men to sin. To do nothing in the face of evil is no different than enabling it. Remember that, Ser Knight.

    Belgoroth pondered the wise mans words, then offered him a nod. I shall.

    I will not push the subject further, Lord Cipar said to the gathered Heroes. Not until we all agree on amon course of action. I simply ask you all to consider my proposal. Until then, I ask for your support in preventing pointless bloodshed.

    Pazuzo and I should be more than enough to make these foolhardy kings see reason, Daltia said. None among the Heroes doubted that these two could persuade anyone of anything. I have another matter to report to you, Cipar. My experiments on the soul have yielded interesting results.

    Oh? His Eminence stroked his beard. I am all ears.

    Daltia went into technical exnations about the nature of souls and perception, which Belgoroth quickly lost interest in. While he understood how to work essence, he left high-end metaphysical concepts to witchcrafters. Understanding the true depths of the Goddess work never appealed to him; learning which way the essence blew wouldnt prevent peasants from starving or forbid criminals from thieving. Lord Cipar and Lahmia appeared highly interested at least, so at least someone listened.

    Pazuzo appeared equally disinterested in the conversation. Oh, that reminds me, he said while searching under his coat and bringing out a letter. Bel, I have a letter for you.

    Is that so? Belgoroth asked. He immediately recognized the pink seal and rose smell on the document. It made him <em>nauseous</em> for a reason that escaped him. Princess Aleria sent it to me?

    She couldnt find you, since you keep hopping around, so decided to make me her messenger, Pazuzo replied. I tried to charm her, to no avail. Methink she wants <em>your </em>sword, and not the biggest one.

    The princess is too well-behaved for such foolishness, Belgoroth replied. He had grown used to his friends attempts at flustering him. Moreover, I have no interest in romance.

    Whereas his friend Pazuzo delighted in sharing a bed with men and women alike, the pleasures of the flesh never appealed to Belgoroth. Countless maidens had thrown themselves at his feet, offering their hands and more. He had politely denied each of them. Of all the oaths Belgoroth swore, his vow of celibacy had been the easiest to keep.

    It was for the best. Romantic love would distract him from his duties. A true knight ought to cherish all human lives equally.

    However, something about Princess Aleria rubbed Belgoroth the wrong way. He couldnt exin why. She was the fairest maiden he had ever saved and a kind, generous soul. His homnd of Olerth would grow prosperous under her care.

    But the way she had smiled at him that day, with eyes full of hope and childish admiration the memory sickened him.

    Ah, Bel. Why sweat so much to save the garden if you wont even smell the roses? Pazuzo shook his head. Listen to your friend: you should stop answering her letters if you do not wish that one to grow thorns.

    Thorns? Belgoroth squinted at his friend. Are you saying that my response might somehow offend the princess?

    If you keep responding, she will believe that your rtionship is deeper than it seems, and no one can stand to see their false hopes crushed, Pazuzo exined. Time and forgetfulness dulls pain, but closeness encourages fantasies. You know what they say: a snake has no venom like a woman scorned.

    Belsara, who had overheard the discussion, hastily mocked Pazuzo. Perhaps I should bite you and silence your wily tongue forever.

    You may bite me anytime, my lovely Ranger, Pazuzo replied shamelessly. Hopefully atop a bed of leaves and roses.

    Unfortunately for you, unlike Daltia, I do not buy used goods, Belsara taunted him back.

    Has someone spoken my name? Daltia asked, interrupting her conversation with His Eminence. She cackled upon seeing Alerias letter. Another one?

    Belgoroth died a little inside. <em>Another</em>?

    s, His Eminence replied with a sigh. He teleported away with an apology, and then reappeared just as quickly in a puff of golden smoke. A small chest sat at his feet. Ser Belgoroth, your correspondence.

    Belgoroth carefully opened the chest and squinted at its content. Hundreds, if not <em>thousands </em>of letters spilled out of the container. A paper testament to all the lives he had saved.

    I have taken the liberty of separating the letters from those you had saved from lesser admirers, His Eminence said. However, I would suggest hiring a scribe to answer them.

    There were more? Belgoroth asked in disbelief. He hadnt checked his correspondence in months.

    Countless, Daltia said with augh. All the women in the realm want to bed you, and half the men want to be you.

    Belgoroth suppressed a surge of anger. Why dont they <em>be </em>me then?

    Daltia tilted her head to the side in confusion. What does <em>that</em> mean?

    Nothing, Belgoroth replied as he searched through the letters. He noticed that Pazuzo sent him a quizzical look, but ignored it. Nothing

    Belgoroth had helped countless people across thest two decades; first as a wandering knight, and then as <em>the </em>Knight. He always endeavored to keep in touch with these lives he had touched. He usually looked forward to answering their messages.

    Now though Now that task brought him little joy.

    Why do you insist on answering letters yourself, my friend? Pazuzo asked Belgoroth. If I spent my own time answering my countless admirers, I wouldnt have hours left for anything more productive.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the vition.

    To ensure they live happy and worthy lives, Belgoroth replied calmly.

    Your generosity honors you, Ser Belgoroth, His Eminence said with a hint ofpassion. s, no man can stay in contact with so many thoughts at once. You ought to learn to be selective.

    While he would have usually brushed His Eminences concern, Belgoroth wondered if he should heed the advice. He gave the letters a cursory read. Each new word felt like a dagger in the back.

    A woman he had saved from her abusive husband nowined of the new one.

    A vige he protected from bandits now struggled with a dreadwolf.

    A family in Nisroch asked for his help in striking down Ugallu.

    He had left each of them devoid of problems, yet more kept cropping up.

    <em>Do they have nothing else to do than write me letters and call for help? </em>Belgoroth shook his head and put the letters back in the chest. <em>I need to return to the field. Such vile thoughts are unbing of a Hero.</em>

    I shall take the chest with me, Belgoroth said. He would do his best to write responses, if he had any time.

    You should take some of my years and youth with you too, Daltia said. She joined her hands together, clearly considering her next words carefully. You will reach forty soon, Bel. Men slow down at that age, and youve been clearly burning the midnight oil. You need either a good rest or new vigor.

    Lord Cipar, the only other Hero to have denied Daltias offer out of moral concern, looked at her in disapproval. We will die when the Goddess wishes us to, my friend.

    I appreciate your concern, Daltia, but I am well, Belgoroth lied.

    A good merchant can smell deceit, Bel, and I am better than most. Daltia shook her head. You are breaking down.

    Breaking down? Belgoroth found the idea absurd. His body was a weapon refined by his ss. He wielded the strength of a hundred men and the speed of the wind. What pressure could hope to shatter him?

    You know what, old friend? Pazuzo patted Belgoroth on the back. How about we leave the mountain together? The sight of the sky will help my inspiration, and you certainly do need a friend.

    Your presence is always wee, my friend, Belgoroth replied graciously. He had missed Pazuzos lighthearted attitude as much as it annoyed him.

    The meeting concluded soon after, with Daltia offering Cipar her assistance in handling the border crisis and Lahmia promising to support Belsarasnds with new enchantments. Lionheart carried the chest of letters in his mouth while Belgoroth and Pazuzo climbed on his back.

    Now that we are alone, my friend, will you tell me what bothers you? Pazuzo asked the moment they took flight. Daltia is not the only one to worry about you.

    Is it so obvious? Belgoroth let out a sigh. He hadnt dared to breach the subject at the meeting for fear of disappointing His Eminence, but he had indeed been struggling with a problemtely. Over the past year, anger has threatened to overwhelm me many times.

    Pazuzo coughed in amusement. My beautiful Knight, I would be surprised if you felt no disdain for the countless viins weve encountered.

    I am not angry at them. No more than usual at least. I feel anger at the <em>victims</em>.

    His confession echoed across the clouds, the silence of the sky hardly broken by the p of Lionhearts wings. Pazuzos arms closed around Belgoroths waist, his friend listening with rapt attention.

    I know I should not, and I cannot exin it, Belgoroth admitted. I do not regret saving maidens from bandits or men from fires, but wherever they looked at me I found myself ovee with loathing.

    It first began with Princess Aleria. He couldnt escape whatever curse she had cast on him.

    You know what artists fear most? Pazuzo asked after a moments consideration.

    Being ignored? Belgoroth guessed.

    Being <em>misunderstood</em>. When he realized Belgoroth did not understand his point, Pazuzo provided an example. Do you remember my y, <em>The Lovebirds</em>? That one with two scions of feuding families falling in love and dying a pointless death?

    Yes, I do. Belgoroth had witnessed its early rehearsals. A beautiful tragedy.

    Indeed, it is a tragedy! I wrote the scions romance as a foolhardy, irresponsible act of rebellion that ended up causing the death of innocents! Pazuzo let out a roar of annoyance. You cant fathom the number of admirers who mistook it for a love story!

    His friends reaction brought a smile to Belgoroth''s lips, though he remained confused. What does it have to do with my situation?

    These so-called admirers <em>watched </em>me, but they did not <em>see </em>me. Instead, they saw what they <em>wanted </em>to see, and then expected my work to conform to <em>their </em>expectations. There is nothing more insulting, more constraining, more <em>dehumanizing</em>! Pazuzo nced at the distant sun once he finished his tirade. You, my friend, are chafing under others expectations and yours too, I suspect.

    Belgoroth mulled over his friends words. He sensed the wily Bard had hit a nerve, but he couldnt vocalize the problem clearly. Others expectations?

    You no longer help your fellow man because <em>you </em>want to, but because <em>they </em>want you to. Pazuzo pointed at the chest in Lionhearts mouth. You carry those letters like a burden rather than a badge of honor. So let those prayers go. You cant fulfill them all.

    I have sworn an oath to deliver Pangeals people from evil, Belgoroth insisted. If I do not save them, who will?

    They will save themselves, Pazuzo replied with a snort. If they dare.

    For the first time in a decade, Belgoroths power offered no barbed retort. The Knight inside him had be silent as a tomb. No lie could withstand the truth.

    <em>They watch, but they do not see. </em>Belgoroth considered these words carefully. Why did he be a pdin? What message did he hope to send the world? <em>I became a knight because I wanted to inspire others. To see more follow my path.</em>

    What was wrong with that?

    Its a beautiful sight, Pazuzomented as they sailed the sea of clouds. With no man to despoil it.

    Yes, Belgoroth conceded. Yes, it is. <blockquote><em>My fair Knight,</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Your absence was forgiven. How could I me you? Words of your glorious deeds have already reached us. You are the pride and joy of this country.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Still, the sight of your fair face and gilded smile lingers in my heart. I hope you think of me too. I have added a handkerchief which I have embroidered myself with this letter. Let it keep you warm at night, and remind you of home.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Yours always,</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Princess Aleria of Olerth.</em></blockquote>

    The night was dark, its air choked with the foul smell of death.

    The inns wooden door split open with a single kick. Its frame fell onto the timbered hall with a loud noise strong enough to wake the dead. Belgoroth heard grunts and shouts from the upper floor. The owner no doubt. ording to travelers, the ce could hardly wee more than a dozen or so journeymen at once; and most avoided the trail with the recent disappearances.

    An unassuming man climbed down the crampy, narrow staircase in his nightclothes. He held an arbalet in hand; a pointless defense in the face of judgment.

    Whos there?! he snarled, his eyes widening upon seeing the intruders sword. Back down! Or Ill sho

    Belgoroth closed the gap between them in an instant, cutting the arbalet with a swing of his sword, his armored glove closing on the mans throat and lifting him above the ground.

    Where is he? the Knight asked, his prisoners legs dangling over the floor. When he received no answer, he mmed the man against the nearest wall. Where is he?

    I dont The man rasped, his cheeks growing red. I dont under stand

    Julian Rochette, a horse-peddler, vanished around these parts, Belgoroth replied angrily. The mans guilt showed on his terrified face the moment he uttered the name. From what I heard, he wasnt the only one.

    Belgoroth hadnt given the report much credit until he arrived on the scene. Rumors of missing travelers weremon in the countryside, but this inn was built on blood. Any witchcrafter could have noticed the foul shroud of corrupted essence stinking of pain and fear hovering off its roof.

    Dark things happened here.

    Belgoroth heard stepsing from the stairs above. A pale, thin woman in her forties climbed down the stairs with a candle in hand; thendy no doubt. She looked at Belgoroth with eyes full of resignation, as if she had prepared herself for such an eventuality many years ago.

    In the kitchen, Mlord, she said with a tired expression. The ruckus probably woke her up in the middle of her sleep. Theyre in the kitchen.

    <em>They</em>. Belgoroth did not like the implications.

    Show me, he ordered after throwing the innkeeper to the ground and keeping him at swordspoint. Do not dare to run. My de will be quicker.

    The man massaged his throat and moved to the back of the hall, to a door near the chimney. Belgoroth and thendy followed after him until they entered a rusty kitchen of old wood and cracked stones. A set of meat piesy near the oven, ready to be put to the firee morning.

    I see nothing, Belgoroth said. Where is the victim?

    Thendy chewed her lips and pointed at the oven.

    Belgoroths hand tightened on his swords hilt. An oven was a horrendous, if effective, way to dispose of the corpses. He was starting to wonder what meat these people put in their pies. The very thought made him nauseous.

    What of the others? he asked, his patience running thin. Show me their remains.

    He watched on as the foul couple searched the kitchen. They had hidden quite the vile bounty under the nks and stones: jewels, full purses, golden teeth, boots taken from honorable citizens and bones. So many cleaned bones, and the clothes the victims used to wear.

    These sandals Belgoroth suppressed a shiver of disgust. They are too small for an adult.

    It was her fault! the innkeeper said, his voice dripping with fear and cowardice. Her father wouldnt tell us where he hid his money, so she started crying and biting and

    He spat blood instead of words. A sh split his gullet open and silenced him forever.

    His wife let out a scream of fear and dropped the candle. Belgoroth caught it with one hand before it could set the kitchen on fire; he did not show the same care for the innkeepers corpse, who fell thrashing and squirming among its victims. The woman crawled back at his approach, her back hitting a wall.

    I swear to the Goddess, she said, crying. I did nothing. <em>Nothing</em>!

    Nothing, you say? Belgoroth repeated. He observed the womans terrified face, his power failing to pick up on hints of a lie. All this pain and suffering, and you simply <em>watched</em>?

    The woman fearfully removed the sleeves of her gown. Belgoroth half expected her to draw a knife; instead, she revealed a set of fresh bruises.

    The Knight would have felt a pang of pity for her once. But he felt greater sorrow for the dozen or so victims whose remains this foul couple stashed under their home.

    You slept in his bed, he said. You could have bound him with ropes, or warned travelers. Gone to the nearest vige or reported to your lord. Instead, you did nothing.

    He he would have beat me if I did. The woman crawled at the Knights feet and embraced his armored ankle. Please, MLord

    What were you waiting for? Belgoroth snarled, imcable and unmoving. A miracle?

    She looked at him. She looked up at him with <em>those </em>eyes, which he had grown to loathe with every fiber of his being, and then she opened her dirty mouth to poison his mind.

    Someone like you, the wench whimpered.

    Her words hit Belgoroth like a curse.

    Something broke inside him. He felt it deep within his soul. A bowstring stretched thin snapped in half. A truth he had tried to bury became impossible to ignore. The mes of anger burned within his heart, stronger than ever.

    Someone like me? A bitterugh erupted from Belgoroths throat. You were waiting for <em>me </em>to solve <em>your </em>problems?

    His hands trembled with rage. The fury he had tried to suppress for so long surged to the surface. This time, he did not ignore it.

    You are guilty of moral weakness and of closing your eyes on injustice, Belgoroth said, the me of the candle flickering in the dark. Henceforth, I shall take them from you.

    She looked up at him in confusion.

    In response, he poured the molten beeswax onto her face.

    Her shrieks and screams filled the inn for hours, but Belgoroth did not relent until he ensured she would see no evil anymore.

    He almost envied her.

    Belgoroth left the inn short of an innkeeper and itsndy short of two eyes. Lionheart obediently awaited him outside, a paw on the letter chest. Belgoroth hadnt found time to pen a single answer. When he looked at them, he realized all that paper would serve a much better purpose.

    Spill them over the ground, he told Lionheart. Those letters will make for a good campfire.

    He would carry that burden no longer. <blockquote><em>My fair Knight,</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Worrisome rumors have reached my ears. About how</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>No, I will not sully this paper with malicious nder. The acts they say you have perpetrated they cannot be yours. It must be another viin trying to sully your name.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>I will do my best to clear your name. I, and the good people of Olerth, believe in you.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Yours always,</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Princess Aleria of Olerth.</em></blockquote>

    The Knights mark burned on his skin. His de hungered for blood.

    The castles lord crawled on the ground, his mace broken and the severed hand that held it bleeding nearby. His throne room was drenched in blood. Most of the mans guards had fought to thest to defend their wicked lord, and Belgoroth struck down those who tried to flee nheless. All of them deserved to die for ever serving the criminal.

    Lord Mulciber, you stand used of raping twelve women on their wedding night and murdering five brave men who dared to stand up to you, Belgoroth recounted the mans crimes. The scum appeared to be in no shape to listen, but Belgoroth did not care. He came to kill, not to speak. The punishment for rape is castration. For murder, it is death.

    Wait, wait, the worm pleaded. Youre a knight of Olerth, you cant

    Belgoroth drove his sword through the mans skull, smashing bones and staining the throne with his brains. The adamantine edge drank the blood of the dead. Belgoroth could feel its hunger, its desire for death and destruction.

    Thest weapon exorcist Belgoroth encountered had urged him to destroy it, as all the wicked blood he shed with it had borne a curse. Belgoroth had ignored the warning. He was the Knight, master of weapons. The power within was his tomand, and his burden to shoulder.

    Once Castle Mulciber fell silent atst, Belgoroth walked out of its throne room. Corpses littered the entrance halls floor. Maids, servants, cooks, squires no matter their station, all humans looked the same in death.

    Belgoroth felt no pity as he stepped over their remains. They had made their choice.

    <em>You served your lords food for years, </em>he recalled telling them. <em>You must have bore witness to his crimes. Why did you not report him earlier? Or better yet, poison his food so that he would never hurt anyone again?</em>

    Instead, these cowards had closed their eyes and enabled their masters evil ways. A man alone could not go far without theplicity of others. That was why injustice continued to prosper; because mankind tolerated it.

    If Belgoroth didnt hold <em>everyone </em>ountable, then how could he do it with <em>anyone</em>?

    <em>You shall treat all fairly. </em>Lords or peasants, all would face judgment.

    <em>You shall oppose evil great and small</em>. Closing ones eyes on a crime was no different than covering it up.

    <em>You shall notpromise on your duties.</em> He would not let his doubts weaken his hand.

    <em>You shall be the first to fight injustice and never shall you retreat.</em> If none would make the hardest decisions, then he would.

    His mind was unclouded, his heart was pure, and his hand was steady.

    The foul essence of death pervaded the air and twisted the walls into faces. The entrails of the dead shifted, their remains gathering into stuffed, squirming masses of flesh. Belgoroth would have to burn the ce on his way out. Ensure these wicked spirits would not give birth to a Blight.

    He stepped through the bloody gates and found an army waiting for him.

    Hundreds of riders encircled Castle Mulciber, backed by ten times as many men-at-arms. A tide of steel surrounded this tomb of stone. Spears, bows, swords, arbalets men had found so many ways to kill one another, and all of them had gathered in this cursed ce. Belgoroth even noticed a few witchcrafters among them with a wealth of offensive runestones. Their dragon heraldry identified them as the knights of Olerth. Had they finallye to execute the felon Mulciber?

    Betterte than never, Belgoroth supposed. This gathering failed to impress him. His power sensed their terror, their disquiet, their shaking knees, and fearful stares. He had cleaned this castle of its sinners, and yet they still trembled at the sight of it. Despicable.

    The armys leader, a pdin in gilded armor riding atop a white horse, stared at Belgoroth with what could pass for disbelief. By the Goddess, he said, his blue eyes squinting behind his helmet. Ser Belgoroth, is that you?

    It is I, Ser, Belgoroth replied politely. Did youe to help me purge this den of iniquity? I did not need such arge force. In fact, I need no help at all.

    None could match him. Whether armies or dragons, he could ughter them. The Knight had never known defeat.

    I had hoped the reports were wrong, the gilded general said. He appraised Belgoroth for a moment, a hand on his sheathed swords hilt. I am not here to assist you, Ser Knight.

    You were toote for it anyway, Belgoroth replied with a shrug. He took a step forward, only to immediately sense danger. His power detected the archers drawing their bows before their hands even reached the strings.

    What Why were they pointing their weapons at him? Why were they all looking at him with such frightened eyes?

    Their leader unfolded a document bearing a familiar pink sigil.

    Ser Belgoroth, the gilded knight said atop his white horse. By orders of His Majesty, you are under arrest for murder, arson, and sedition.

    What? Belgoroth mistook it for a jest at first, but the twitching fingers of the men around him felt real enough. It wasnt the castle that they feared.

    This order is a forgery, Belgoroth replied, incensed. You were deceived. The king and princess

    The order came from her.

    The lieit had to be a liestruck Belgoroth like a p to the face. The mounted knight tossed him the scroll with the message, which he read. He immediately recognized the handwriting.

    <em>I saved her life. </em>No matter how many times Belgoroth read the usations, or the gentle prayers to surrender peacefully, he could not find the strength to believe in them. <em>I saved her </em><em><strong>life</strong></em><em>.</em>

    <em>You shall ask for no reward and ept none. </em>Had it been too much to expect a little <em>gratitude</em>?

    Ser Belgoroth, we have been asked to peacefully escort you back to the capital, the mounted knight said, his voice shaking but resolute nheless. You stand used of murdering hundreds across the Kingdom of Olerth.

    Criminals, all of them! Why couldnt they see? Why could <em>nobody </em>see? I have acted within the bounds of my duties!

    The princess convinced the king to give you a fair trial, and you will have the opportunity to prove your innocence, the lesser knight replied.

    Trial? Belgoroths hand clutched the scroll in his fury. <em>Me</em>?! His roaring voice caused a dozen men to step back in fear. The Knight chosen by the Goddess Herself?! Which men would dare judge <em>me</em>?!

    The mounted knight reeled back in fear, but did not flee. Ser, please take a look at yourself! he said. You are unwell! You need to let go of your sword! Its curse is poisoning your mind!

    Not well? Nonsense. Belgoroth had never been more in tune with his mark. He no longer fought its instincts. He embraced them. <em>Wielded </em>them. Take a good look at himself? Belgoroth looked at his hands who had in so many foes.

    He froze in ce.

    When

    When did his golden armor turn crimson?

    His gilded gauntlets were covered in rust and drenched in blood, old and fresh. A stain of dark red filth covered his metal hide. Pushed by an instinct stronger than his reason, he started scrubbing. He scrubbed with all his strength under the mesmerized eyes of Olerths knights, furiously trying to get the filth off him.

    He <em>knew </em>there was gold somewhere there, beneath the blood and the screams and the pain

    What have I Belgoroth mumbled in shock and disbelief. He ignored the soldiers whispers, who called him mad and feral. What have I

    But it wouldnte off.

    <em>It wouldnte off.</em>

    It would <em>never </eme off.

    What have <em>they </em>done? The Knight stared at his crimson, rusted hands. His fingers trembled with impotent rage at his lost purity. They have stained me with their filth their stench their corruption

    He let out a roar of rage and anguish, a wail of absolute fury and despair. The archers fired their bowswhether out of fear or shock, he would never knowand rained arrows upon him. He deflected them all with his sword on instinct. The Knights of Olerth roared and charged on their horses; those brave enough to die at least. More fled, but none would run fast enough.

    I was pure gold! Belgoroth snarled at the brave fools charging at their doom. Shining like the sun!

    He leaped into battle, and he did not retreat. <blockquote><em>Bel,</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>About your question, Soulforged Adamantine requires forging adamantine in a ce sacred to the Goddess and tying it to a key concept of the world.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>However, for my n to work, I will have to tie your soul to a concept with which it resonates. A cowardly soul cant exactlye to embody the concept of courage, you understand? ording to early experiments, the soul bound to the object will naturally resonate with a concept by itself, which will then be tied to the Soulforged Adamantine.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>In your case, I would bet on valor.</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Your true friend,</em></blockquote><blockquote><em>Daltia Eris Brra.</em></blockquote>

    Olerth burned like the heart of the sun.

    He was fire. He was anger. He was hatred, whose heart shone with a berserk me and whose sword had cut short countless lives. He was a tornado that slew all that stood in his path, the ze that consumed life.

    They first called him Bel the Merciless, then Bel the Mad, and finally, the Lord of Wrath, who took no sides, reigned over death, and wore a crown of blood. He had murdered those who besmirched his name, and those who did not. He had in kings and peasants, the old and the young, knights and viins, the fair and the foul. Humans were equal in one thing only, and that was death.

    He was the god of fury who heard all the worlds curses, all demands of pain and retribution, all promises of revenge, all insults spoken in anger, all calls to murder and extermination, all acts of violence. To these myriad prayers, he would answer with one gift alone.

    Death.

    Death to all.

    Death to thest believer.

    He walked through a corridor of burning mes paved with maimed corpses. His crimson boots echoed on the cracking floor and then shattered thest door with a kick. A smile crept up on his face, full of bloodthirst and hateful joy.

    Princess Aleria hid behind the wood, her lovely dress covered in the ashes of her kingdom. She crawled up to her feet and knelt before him with a face full of tears. She wept and begged in words Belgoroths clouded mind could no longer understand. He had heard a thousand prayers for mercy and answered none.

    And yet, his smile faded away when he looked at her fair face. Instead of crushing her skull, his hand stroked her cheek. Her tears turned to steam on the crimson gauntlet. Somehow, the sight filled his heart with something else than anger: joy, sadness and pity.

    Pity for that relic of what he had lost and would never regain.

    The sorrow almost soothed the berserk me in his heart. Almost.

    Lord Belgoroth, please The princess hands moved to his legs, imploring his mercy with <em>those </em>eyes. All I have done was out of love

    The fury returned in a sh of blood, stronger than ever.

    He hacked her skull open with his sword. He roared as his adamantine cut her down and spread the mes over her smooth flesh. She was dead alreadyso mercifully quicklybut he couldnt stop. The fire inside him fueled a thousand more strokes. He hit and snarled and sliced, until nothing remained but charred pounds of flesh and bones. His sword gorged itself on the blood, until atst, Belgoroth had nothing left to slice. He washed his face with his bloodsoaked fingers, basking in the smell of death and roses.

    For a brief instant, he felt pure again.

    Theyre all dead now Belgoroth muttered to himself as he looked through the royal bedchambers windows, staring at the city he had once helped protect and then set aze. The traitors, the betrayers, the fools and the wicked all dead

    The kingdom which had turned its back on himand adored himwas gone. Its towerswhich he used to admireburned like candles, and its castleswhich he once protectedhad been reduced to dust. Darkened skies rained ashes on bloody rivers; streets where thousands came to acim him.

    At longst everyone is dead, dead, dead

    But his smile did notst long. The satisfaction he felt at this gruesome spectacle was soon swept away by the tides of shame and loathing. He had tried to bury these old memories, but when he dug their graves, he could feel pain, raw and eternal.

    Grotesque, is it not? Belgoroth straightened up, the fires of his youth dimmed by age. She said she acted out of love, but she never truly knew me. She loved my shadow. What she wanted to see in me what she <em>hoped </em>me to be.

    He peeked over his shoulder and looked at the observer. Much like you loved your squire.

    Silence answered him. But he knew. He sensed the foreign presence here, in the heart of his chaotic memories.

    For a long time, I wondered what about her eyes infuriated me so deeply. Belgoroth nced at the stain of blood that used to be Aleria. She wasnt special. I had met countless maidens, some fairer and wiser. So why did I loathe her in particr? That night at the inn, I finally understood.

    A truth he had despised from the bottom of his soul.

    It wasnt the eyes I hated, but what I saw in them: my own reflection, twisted by her hopes and expectations. The <em>failure</em>. His mouth twisted into a sneer of hatred and disgust. I became a pdin to drive evil from the realm and inspire the people of the world to do good. And when Aleria looked at me with those eyes, I <em>knew</em>, deep within myself, that I had failed. That my acts would not inspire these cowards and weaklings to be brave.

    Instead, men hade to rely on him to solve their problems instead of holding themselves ountable. They had enved him with their prayers and chained him to their mediocrity, and when he disappointed their false expectations, they turned on him just as swiftly.

    I understood that men would never live up to the standards to which I held myself. That Pangeal would never be the paradise the Goddess tasked me to create. That I had dedicated my <em>life </em>to a <em>lie</em>.

    And it drove him mad with rage and bitterness.

    I loved the mirage of humanity too, Belgoroth confessed. What I hoped it would be; and when I finally epted that men would <em>never </em>live up to my ideal, only hate remained.

    Belgoroths hands tightened on his bloody sword, the vessel of his ckened, ash-tainted soul, his mark burning with all the worlds wrath and fury.

    Are you content, Rnd? Has this journey into my past given you the answers you sought deep inside yourself? Belgoroth turned back to stare at the observer. Do you feel the call of our sses, who so ardently wish to fight one another? Knight to Knight, sword to sword?

    Yellow mes spread around the Lord of Wrath, swallowing remorse and memories.

    Ready your weapon, false Hero, he said with burning resolve. For the <em>true </em>Knightes for you.

    The mes burned the dream away, and Rnd woke up sweating.

    A terrible pain surged in his hand. His Knights mark burned on his skin so much it stained his fingers with blood.

    Rnd? Therese woke up on the other side of the bed. Her eyes widened in rm at the sight of his bleeding hand. She immediately reached for a poultice and set of bandages on the bed table.

    She was used to these traumatic awakenings.

    Though he had tried, Rnd couldnt bear to touch her the way a man ought to with his future wife. Still, he found the warmth of his fiancs handsforting as she treated his wound. The poultice steamed at the contact of his mark, but it held nheless. Colmar had brewed it himself.

    This is getting worse, Therese warned him after she finished bandaging his hand.

    His power interpreted her worry as a reproach and suggested a thousand barbs:<em> your sister banished you, ire resents you,</em> and worse of all<em> I will never love you like I loved Sebastian.</em> The same bloodthirst that led Belgoroth down the path of madness inhabited his own mark.

    <em>No, it is worse with mine</em>. Belgoroths mark possessed the power of the Monk, whose understanding of motion let him tell a <em>threat </em>from an <em>objection</em>. Rnds weakened ss failed to notice such subtleties and interpreted almost everything as a threat. <em>Which makes his fall all the more sadder.</em>

    He was never worthy, Rnd muttered under his breath. Too pure by half.

    Who? Therese squinted at him. Belgoroth?

    Rnd nodded slightly. His future queen was sharp. So sharp that she had all but taken over the administrative duties of the kingdom since he retook the capital. Not that he minded. He never had a mind for politics, beyond what he had to do to secure his life and throne. He was happy to fight at his mens side in the mud while Therese handled the velvet diplomacy.

    I saw his memories, Rnd said while gathering his breath. Parts of them at least. Blurs of his past.

    Rnd started having nightmares since the battle with Sebastianmay he rot in whatever golden hell he gave himself tobut they had grown more vivid over thest few nights. He suspected the attack on Walbourg broke a dam of some sort. Now that Belgoroth had gotten out, however briefly, his malice poured between their connected sses.

    Therese stared at him with a worried expression, then left the kingly bed. Her white nightgown shimmered as she opened the windows and let the light in. Dawn was rising on the capital of Whitethrone.

    How did he look? Therese asked once her fianc had recovered.

    I dont know. I only saw through his eyes. Rnd wiped the sweat off his brow. His hands were drenched in blood.

    I would expect a Knight to wash them often, Therese replied with a sarcastic smile. Rnd once again squashed a thousand hurtful jabs. Did you gather anything that could help us stop him?

    I dont know, Rnd confessed. The dreams were a chaotic mess.

    Then write it all down. It will help you put your thoughts in order. Therese moved to the bedside and served him a cup of honeyed milk. As will the sugar.

    Rnd epted the cup with hesitation. Why do you prepare our drinks in advance without consulting the staff?

    His fianc raised an eyebrow as she returned to the bed with a cup of her own. Why dont you call the servants, my lord?

    Safety, Rnd replied as he sipped the drink. It was cold, yet pleasing to his lips. I almost died from a poisoned cup when I was nine.

    And here I was told Archfrosts politics were less fierce than in my homnd. Therese stared at the cup with curiosity. You did not test that one.

    Perhaps I should have, Rnd replied, slightly amused. Indeed, he hadnt even considered checking the cup. His fianc had grown on him. Ive heard an Everbright Empress murdered three of her husbands.

    Therese smiled in amusement. We arent married yet, my lord.

    The pain in Rnds mark returned in a sh. The poultice soothed it slightly, but it had been made to cure his flesh and not his soul. The Knight ss urged him to counter the joke with an insult, a p, a punch, <em>anything</em>. Words were weapons, and Therese used them expertly. Each conversation was a challenge to ovee.

    Maybe that was why Rnd was starting to appreciate her. She forced him to practice his self-control, to stay on the narrow path of discipline. His fianc did not hesitate to speak her mind in his presence, unlike many sycophants and loyal knights.

    Rnd didnt think he had the strength in him to love her the way he loved Sebastian, but he respected her. Nay, he <em>trusted </em>her. They could ovee the issue of the heir in time. With all the Heroes in their entourage, Rnd strongly believed they could find a novel solution.

    A cloud of white smoke erupted in the bedchambers. Therese hastily pulled the sheet closer to hide her modesty while Rnds hand reached for the sword hidden under the mattress; he never went to sleep without a weapon.

    Oh my, am I interrupting something? Eris smiled in amusement at Therese. ire will be jealous.

    Rnd let go of the sword, but he did not rx. He remembered the words signed on that cursed letter inside Belgoroths dream: <em>Daltia Eris Brra. </em>The Wanderer did not look exactly like the Devil of Greed, but now that he looked at her, Eris bore a remarkable resemnce to that woman

    Rnd did not trust dreams, let alone a Demon Ancestors memories. For all he knew, Belgoroth could have altered them to deceive them and sow distrust.

    So he kept his mouth shut for now. Staying on his guard around friends and foes had be second nature to him. Robin had taught him the value of corroborating information. He would wait for hisrades return to share his intel.

    <em>Comrades.</em> The thought made him smile. <em>A king has no friends, or so I was told, but can a Hero?</em>

    Should we get dressed? Therese asked with a sigh. These visits of yours always manage to catch us at the wrong time, Lady Eris.

    I bear good news this time, Eris promised. She presented the royal couple with a scroll. Walbourg signed the treaty.

    They did? Therese forgot her modesty and all but snatched the document out of the Wanderers hands. Finally.

    <em>He did it. Robin did it. </em>While his future queen read the document, Rnd did not bother to take a look. He trusted the wily Merchant to have negotiated favorable terms. <em>I hoped he would seed while still expecting him to fail. Yet again, he proved me wrong.</em>

    Peace. Peace hade to Archfrost.

    This is great news, Therese said upon folding the scroll. Archfrost can finally heal its scars.

    Yes, it could. Rnd should rejoice. No one would lose their father to their fellow countrymen as he did.

    So why did this news leave him feeling empty?

    His ss had urged him to take the field to Walbourg, to shatter their walls and bring them back into the fold the knightly way. Rnd had hoped for that oue since his childhood. He had dreamed of dragging Griselda out of her duchy and carrying her back in chains to the capital, to stand trial for the death of histe father.

    For the sake of peace, he had to abandon those fantasies. To wee back rebels, and forgive many crimes. Thatpromise left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

    But Rnd felt no anger. He had seen the alternativest night and witnessed where it led Belgoroth: nowhere.

    Once you refused topromise, the only path was war; a sterile battle that ended with annihtion, either for oneself or the other side. And war could not build a future.

    There is still work to do before Archfrost can rest, Rnd said. The coronation, the beastmen His gaze turned to his bandaged hand and the mark underneath. And <em>him</em>.

    About that Eris straightened up. I have been running from one Hero to another. Weve been discussing ways to neutralize Belgoroth, either temporarily or permanently.

    Rnds head snapped in her direction, as did his future wifes. Both had been taught since infancy that the Demon Ancestors could only be sealed away and never destroyed.

    Permanently? Rnd asked in disbelief. Is such a thing possible?

    I do not know. Some of the ideas Robin and the others suggested sound <em>technically </em>possible if wed and extremely risky. Eris squinted at Rnd. Especially for you.

    For me? Rnd scowled. Am I to y a key part in your schemes?

    Eris nodded sharply. I wont lie, Rnd, our next battle might cost you greatly, she warned him. Only the Knight can defeat the Knight, and even if any of our ns work, we will have to adapt on the fly. We wont proceed with some of the suggested strategies without your approval.

    Another man would have hesitated, but the thought of refusing never crossed Rnds mind. He didnt even need to be told the risks. If there was the slightest chance to end the Lord of Wrath and secure his kingdoms future, then he would dly pay any price. His power rejoiced within him, and for once Rnd found himself fully in tune with his mark.

    Then let the Lord of Wrath know, Rnd dered, That the <em>true </em>Knightes for him.

 Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Return

    Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Return

    We use a cannon tounch him into the sun, Marika suggested.

    I took a look at the Abbeys records just long enough to exchange a nce with Selestine. The Priest appeared about as puzzled as I was.

    A cannon? she asked. I am not certain I understand your intent, Lady Marika.

    We know from the ounts that Belgoroth can be harmed and killed, Marika said. He just wont <em>stay </em>dead. Hence, if we throw him into the sun, he will burn for all eternity. It doesnt matter if he pulls himself back together if hes constantly melted down.

    I appreciate your novel approach, Marika, I said diplomatically. At this point, I weed all ideas, no matter how inane. However, we already struggle to carry a shipload''s worth of weight a few miles into the air. Can your power create a cannon <em>that </em>powerful?

    I can try. Marikas jaw clenched. She didnt believe in her own idea either. How about a volcano then? What if we dropped him and his sword inside a volcano?

    The closest active volcanoes are in the Fire Inds and the Stonnds, both of them hundreds, if not <em>thousands </em>of leagues away, I replied. Even if we restrain him, Belgoroth will free himself long before we reach either of them. He has Rnds power, which means he wields the strength of a hundred men.

    I fear Belgoroth might eventually w his way out of the earth too, Selestine added. The records say the first Shaman summoned a flood that carried him away into the oceans depths. He reappeared a scant few dayster to set the shore aze. No me burns hot enough to damage his wicked sword either.

    I sank into my chair. I had invited my fellow Heroes to a reunion in between two sessions of work on our airship. Only Marika and Selestine answered me. Soraseo would rather meditate, and while Mr. Fronan had kindly lent us an office in his warehouses and space to build anti-demon devices, he, unfortunately, had to sit this one out. Trouble in the Arcadian Freeholds demanded his full attention.

    The three of us had spent about an hour and a half sitting around a table, reviewing documents, bouncing off ideas, borating strategies, and vainly attempting to find a solution to the Belgoroth problem.

    So far, results have been less than encouraging.

    Defeating Belgoroth alone would be a tremendously difficult task; <em>keeping </em>him defeated appeared all but impossible with the means we had at hand. His powers made him too strong for any prison to hold him, and his immortality prevented us from considering more permanent solutions.

    How about we trap him in lime mortar? I suggested, thinking of how Colmar had managed to imprison Florence. We catch him in a trap, fill it with a quickly hardening substance, and freeze him in ce.

    Limestone wontst long against him, Marika countered. Molten adamantine might work, but it cools off quickly. Wed need to lure Belgoroth into a forge or a special cage.

    Selestine immediately shot down the suggestion. He can project his soul far enough to animate a golem half a world away from his prison. Restraining his body wont do us good if he can find another to possess.

    ounts of Belgoroths final sh with our ancient predecessors had faded into the realm of legends, but enough scraps remained to form a coherent picture of that particr battle. Thankfully, Walbourgs Reformists owned copies of ancient texts dating all the way back to the Sunderwar.

    From what I gathered from these texts and Eris own memories, Belgoroths immortality primarily worked by pulling back his body together. Severed arms reattached themselves. Ashes gathered back intoyers of flesh. Broken bones fell back into ce.

    We at first considered dismembering and scattering his cursed remains across thend, but some tales made me doubt it would work. One story detailed how a soldier had imed the Lord of Wraths sword, only to be his recement, or how Belgoroth arose from a battlefieldske of blood. While we knew for certain the first ount was likely false, it did suggest that Belgoroth possessed other ways of returning from the dead beyond reassembling his own body parts. Even vaporizing him to hisst atom would only offer a temporary respite so long as his cursed sword held his soul.

    <em>I dont see a clear solution to this puzzle,</em> I thought. I wish Mersie was here. I doubted her power would work on Belgoroth, or else a previous Assassin would have ughtered the Demon Ancestors, but a single additional Hero among our ranks would considerably broaden our limited options.

    Lady Selestine, can you recount the Sunderwars ount onest time? I asked. Mayhaps theres a detail weve missed.

    If you wish. The Priest opened an old dusty tome to an annotated page. By now, I suspected she knew the books contents by heart. The Knight, the Mage, and their respective vassals confronted the Lord of Wrath amidst the ruins of his cursed kingdom, which he had reduced to a graveyard and now ruled from atop a mountain of corpses.

    I suspected this version of events of being <em>slightly </em>embellished, but I did not interrupt.

    The heroes matched the Lord of Wrath in battle, but could not y him, Selestine read. They fought for three days and nights, until the valiant Knight bested him in a bout atst. The Lord of Wrath lost his hand and sword to the Knights de, while the Mages lightning struck the dead mountain. The Lord of Wrath was buried under his own victims, and with no one to kill, his hate-filled heart weakened. The Mage and his vassals entombed the dark lord in a seal of regrets. There heys sleeping, waiting for the ughter to begin anew.

    I crossed my arms and mulled over the text. With no one to kill, his heart weakened I muttered. That bit sounds important.

    He is the Lord of Wrath, Robin, Marika pointed out. He is fueled by anger, either his own or that of everyone elses. That is why a cursed weapon encourages its wielder to keep killing. Each death feeds to the de the same wicked essence that animates its curse, strengthening it.

    In that case, we must iste him, I said with a sharp nod. We had already determined from ourst encounter that non-Heroes would notst an instant against Belgoroth. If his power fed on death, they might even prove a hindrance. But nothing short of Rnd or Soraseo can hope to match him in melee.

    The mention of Soraseo caused Marika to frown. She still hasnt recovered?

    I let out a sigh. I could heal her scars with a signature, but I have no cure for despair.

    Give her time, Robin, Selestine encouraged us. Your friend is strong, and your hopes were not wasted. You need patience.

    It is not a question of patience, Lady Selestine, I replied grimly. I had waited years to take down Sforza, but Belgoroth wouldnt give us that long. The clock keeps ticking down and we have yet to find a workable strategy.

    Cant we replicate the one our predecessors used? Marika suggested, trying to lift my spirits. Or at least adapt it to our current set-up?

    How? The Mage was on the other side of the continent, and we still didnt even know where his vassals were. The Shaman and the Necromancer could be both a thousand leagues away. None of them could help us fight Belgoroth by the time he broke out of his prison.

    Selestine remained skeptical too. The original sealing spell worked because of the fear Belgoroth inspired in the hearts of all his victims. The current generation does not loathe the Demon Ancestors enough to fuel the magic.

    I doubt Belgoroth will let him be positioned in a way that lets us seal him either, I said. He had centuries to stew on his first defeat. We will only win with surprise on our side.

    Marika scowled deeply. Then we bomb him, she suggested. At the end of the day, the Demon Ancestors are little more than walking Blights. Both are fueled by a flow of negative essence. If Colmars n of destroying the Blights by dropping vast amounts of positively-charged runestones into their core works, then the same tactic could disable Belgoroth.

    There arent enough runestones in the world to quench all of his hatred, I pointed out.

    I know, Marika replied. I tried to purify Belgoroths sword with a simr method and it failed. Im not saying we can end the flow of anger but we might <em>disrupt </em>it.

    <em>That </em>gave me pause. Disrupt it?

    Marika nodded sharply. Imagine it as throwing a rock in a river, with the positive essence being the rock and the worlds anger as the river. Thetters flow will eventually push the rock out of its way or degrade it to dust, but it wont seed <em>immediately</em>.

    At longst, I felt the me of hope reigniting in my heart. Dealing with the Demon Ancestors permanently required purifying their marks. Separating them from the flow of essence keeping them corrupted, however briefly, might let us achieve that objective.

    How long would the disruptionst? I asked.

    I cant tell, Robin, Marika conceded, much to my sorrow. But whether it will keep Belgoroth down for hours or for years, it will at least give us time to adjust.

    This n meshes well with your other n, Lord Merchant, Selestine suggested. If we can join the two, we might defeat the Lord of Wrath without the need of a seal.

    I remained skeptical. <em>Optimistic</em>, but skeptical. My n will require both Rnds help, perfect positioning, and trust that my power will validate the trade, I reminded her. The odds that any of these oues happen are slim, let alone all of them at once.

    As are our odds of victory at all, Selestine replied. Yet we must try nheless, for <em>someone </em>has to.

    Marika forced herself to smile. What happened to the daredevil who challenged Belgoroth to repent? You ought to have more faith in us, Robin.

    She was right, I couldnt let my doubts take over. As they said, fear was the mind-killer. I had to believe Soraseo would eventually emerge from her depression and that at least one of our desperate schemes would seed in taking down Belgoroth. He had lost to a previous Knight, so we knew it <em>could </em>be done.

    I suppose you cannot petition the Artifacts for a winning strategy? I asked Selestine, half-seriously. I am willing to plead our case if needed.

    She smiled warmly at me. If a perfect solution existed, we Heroes would not be needed. I suspect that the Four Artifacts understand our marks as much as we do. Much like a counterfeiter might duplicate a painting without understanding its message, they copied the Goddess work without uncovering its intricacies.

    Well, it was worth a shot.

    From our discussion, the bomb n seems the best so far, I resumed. I still believe Colmar might find a way to adapt my own limestone idea, in which case we could probablybine the ns. We can bombard Belgoroth, trap him in one spot, and then proceed with my

    I paused when I heard the offices door open. Mr. Fronan walked inside the room with a handful of letters and a pale scowl of embarrassment on his face.

    I bear ill news, he said. I must return to the Freeholds with haste.

    His words hit me like a cold shower, and I felt the me of hope inside me waver.

    You cannot be serious? Marika looked fit to gag. But Belgoroth will escape anytime soon!

    I am afraid that the Lord of Wrath is no longer our only opponent. Mr. Fronan handed the letters to Selestine. I have been contacted by the Ranger through raven messengers. A slew of gruesome murders has struck the capital of Timberkeep. The Lord-Mayor, Lady Francine Desbois, was found dead with her face missing.

    Her face? I asked. A chill traveled down my spine as I put two and two together. When you say missing

    Her face has be a mask of smooth skin, Selestine guessed. Her brows furrowed the further she read. Without eyes, nose, and mouth.

    Mr. Fronan nodded sharply. You are well-informed, Lady Selestine.

    When the criminal signs their deeds so brazenly, it is easy to infer the culprit. Lady Selestine scowled in worry. It seems that the Shadow has escaped their prison.

    The Shadow? Marikas eyes widened in shock. The Shadow of Envy?

    Once happy to steal the riches of the powerful as the first Rogue, the Shadow now absconds with their lives and beauty, Selestine confirmed. The tales say that they had collected ten thousand faces by the time the Heroes jailed them under the Tower of Envy.

    The Tower of Envy; a pir of smooth, ageless mirrors with neither doors nor windows. The ces very name inspired dread in the hearts of the Arcadian traders I had exchanged words with. They said that those who dared to ascend its steep slope in search of treasures never returned.

    I cursed our rotten luck. This event reminded me that while Belgoroth monopolized most of our attention, he was just one Demon Ancestor out of seven. His other allies hadnt stayed idle, as Daltias own plotting could attest. At least the Shadow was said to be the weakest of the Demon Ancestors and forever resentful of that fact

    Who is this Lady Francine? I asked Mr. Fronan. Why kill her?

    She was Timberkeeps Lord-Mayor, one of the most powerful parliamentarians in the Freeholds, myrgest investor, and a friend, Mr. Fronan recounted, his serene face straining with anger when he uttered thest word. Her death will strike fear among the freeholders hearts and sow turmoil. Her family already used her political rivals of ordering her murder.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    What the Shadowcks in power, they more than make up for in cunning, Lady Selestine countered as she returned the letters to Mr. Fronan. I suspect that this murder is both a challenge to us and the first move of arger n.

    The Ranger shares your opinion, Mdy, Mr. Fronan confirmed. As her vassal, she requested my help in apprehending the Shadow. While it pains me to part ways with you, I intend to fulfill my duty.

    Thats a shame, I said with a grumble, though I did not push back. It would be highly hypocritical of me to ask Mr. Fronan to defend a foreign country from a Demon Ancestor when <em>another </em>already threatened his own homnd. Your assistance would have made a difference against Belgoroth.

    Mr. Fronan lowered his head in shame. I am deeply sorry, my friends. I swear to you that once the Shadow has been apprehended, I shall travel with haste back to Archfrost to assist you.

    We shall return the favor once we emerge victorious, I replied with all the optimism I could muster. The loss of the Druid would greatly diminish our strength.

    I wondered if that was the Shadows intent. For them to strike <em>now </em>of all times, and so brazenly the timing appeared far too fortuitous. I would need to assume that the Demon Ancestors could coordinate their actions from now on.

    Its a shame, Fronan, Marika said, crestfallen. You will miss the <em>Vernis </em>maiden voyage.

    I suspect that will be one of my lifes greatest regrets, Mr. Fronan replied with a sigh. Nheless, I shall fly with you in spirit.

    For perhaps the first time since I met her, Selestines eyes lit up with what could pass for childish wonder. The <em>Verni </em>is ready?

    It is, I confirmed with a proud smile, though it paled before Marikas. I took the liberty of adding a soundstone-based surprise for our guests.

    Mr. Fronan chuckled in amusement. A great regret indeed.

    I will promise you this much, Mr. Fronan, I said with a hand on my chest. By the time we meet again, your invention will have changed the world.

    I wish as much, Robin. Mr. Fronan took the time to shake my hand. Fortune favors the bold, and of all the men I have met in my life you might be the boldest yet.

    I prayed to the Goddess that we would both live long enough to meet again.

    It is unsightly to make a Duchess wait, Lord Merchant, Griselda lightly chided me. Not to mention half the lords of her realm.

    I assure you, it will be worth the wait, I replied calmly. My eyes looked up at the clouds above the city. It should arrive any minute now.

    Duchess Griselda sighed in impatience, though a few hushed words from Selestine calmed her down. A delegation of half a hundred lords, ambassadors, diplomats, and Reformist priests from all corners of Walbourg had gathered on the cathedrals za with their baggage and servants. No other ce within Walbourg wasrge enough to amodate the <em>Verni</em>.

    None of them arrived with horses, as I had asked. I could tell a few of them wondered how they were supposed to reach the capital in time for the coronation on foot. Their questions were soon answered by the soft, graceful noise of wind runestones echoing from above.

    The fruit of our long weeks of work and witchcrafting emerged from the shadows of wandering clouds.

    The <em>Verni </em>sailed the sky sea with a swans grace, its hull of painted steel and brass shining under the sunlight. An oval balloon of rich, essence-reinforced Alnd silk bound by metal rings buoyed it aloft above the ground. The ship itself rivaled a carrack in size, with a burning furnace at the back and pristine wings of cloth sails keeping it moving in the right direction. Metallic chains, pirs, and other contraptions connected the deck to the balloon. An effigy at the ships helm, crafted in the shape of thete Verni, and a series of banners at the backpleted the picture; we had tastefully chosen a mix of designs incorporating both Archfrosts royal heraldry and that of Walbourg to symbolize the countrys reconciliation.

    The ambassadors erupted into a chorus of astonished shouts, whispers, andughter. Duchess Griselda herself covered her mouth in surprise, her eyes so wide I wondered if they would fall out of her face.

    The <em>Vernis </em>descent attracted an amazed crowd of passersby, who were hardly kept in check by a cordon of soldiers and city watchmen. Families rushed to their homes windows to listen to the airships buzzing melody of metal nks and fluttering wing sails. I personally paid more attention to the portholes and the hiddenpartments on the hulls base. Our trump card against Belgoroth.

    Dear lords anddies of Walbourg! I shouted at the assembly with all the bombastic energy of a showman. Today, you shall sail over mountains and conquer the horizon!

    By the Goddess, I had spent <em>weeks </em>choosing my words!

    nning this dramatic entrance took a great deal of coordination. I had the <em>Verni </em>rise in the middle of the night for a test flight, so few would see its ascent, and then scheduled everything down based on the weather forecast.

    It saddened me that Mr. Fronan wouldnt see it. He had already left the day before in a hurry for the southwest. I hoped he would find the Ranger to be goodpany.

    The <em>Verni </em>hoovered down into the za, its massive size narrowly fitting in between the stands and buildings. Its hull opened to reveal a ramped staircase of finely crafted metal. A soundstone connected to the captains cabin by an borate system of drums and wires shone above the entrance. Marikas voice came out of it.

    If you would kindly climb onboard, she said in between noises of muffledughter. She clearly had fun ying captain. Our staff will take care of you on our trip to Whitethrone.

    Protocol dictated that Duchess Griselda and her retainers would climb aboard first, but Selestine clearly couldnt suppress her curiosity. Her fingers fidgeted with excitement, her once-serene lips stretching as if to suppress words she feared would sound childish.

    Would you like to climb first, Lady Selestine? I asked with amusement.

    May I? she all but begged.

    Of course, the duchess replied graciously. A Priests retinue trumps a nobles one.

    Thank you kindly, Lady Griselda. Selestine immediately stepped forward and climbed the ramp with enthusiasm. Her Reformist followers, who had been slightly apprehensive at the idea of entering a flying machine, found their courage soon after and swiftly followed.

    I hope you are happy with our creation, I told the duchess. Its construction wouldnt have been possible without your support.

    This was money well-spent, Duchess Griselda conceded. Though we could have rode to the capital just as quickly.

    Someone of your experience understands the value of symbols, Lady Griselda. I waved a hand at the fruit of ourbor. A balloon made of Arcadian silk, a ship built by an Archfrostian Merchant and Rivendian engineers, funded by Snowdrifts ownpany and yours truly all of western Pangeal contributed to its creation. There is no better view to inaugurate a new age of prosperity between Archfrost and Walbourg, Im sure you agree.

    I do. The Duchess allowed herself to smile. This is a modern miracle, and my people need one.

    Indeed. My eyes wandered to the citys scorched suburbs, which still bore the mark of Belgoroths passage. While donations flowed to finance the reconstruction and Marikas power more than quickened the process, it probably would take another year to rebuildpletely. The lives lost that day couldnt be recovered either. Id heard the Duchess nned to build a monument to honor the fallen there, including her faithful Cavalier.

    <em>I wonder who will rece Verni,</em> I thought as the duchess and the ambassadors climbed aboard the airship. Eyewitnesses saw the Cavaliers mark fly north towards Archfrost, but it could have ended in the northern, beastmen-infestednds for all I knew. <em>Whoever they are, I hope we can count on them. Rnd will need all of his vassals.</em>

    Once the duchess and Walbourgs ambassadors climbed inside the <em>Vernis </em>belly, I remained behind, waiting for a friend.

    We are ready tounch, Robin, Marika informed me through the soundstone.

    Captain Marika, how good to hear that you are safe and sound! I shouted back at the loudspeaker. The devicedeveloped thanks to Soraseos understanding of sound and Marikas own ingenuityshould send my own voice back to the main cabin. Had any dashing adventure on your way here?

    I saw a dragon, but it didnt stay for dinner, Marika joked back with the same bemused tone. My, Id rarely heard her in such a good mood. I am years too early to be a sky pirate.

    Give it time, we will make it popr, I replied. Well wait a few more minutes.

    Marika waited a moment before answering, You think she wille?

    <em>I have to hope so. </em>I heard a slightmotion near the zas entrance and turned my head in its direction. <em>Seems I was right too.</em>

    A familiar ck warhorse passed through the security cordon, a red knight guiding it by the reins while on foot. A few of Soraseos burns and wounds had healed over the course of thest few days, but she still wore an Iremians mummy worth of bandages under her armor. It astonished me that she could walk straight at all.

    You were waiting for me, she noted. Her voice sounded weak and raspy, but I detected a hint of genuine warmth in her tone. Of gratitude.

    We were, I confirmed. The sight of her brought a smile to my face. Have you reconsidered?

    To my happiness, she nodded back. I have given much thought to your words, Robin. She nced at the <em>Verni</em>, who we had named after a lost ally who perished saving her. You were right. I do owe a debt to the dead. To my mother, and those who died for me.

    I felt a little ashamed about guilt-tripping her this way, but my words seemed to have given her focus and a new lease on life; at least for now.

    My goal remains unchanged, Soraseo said. I will go to the Deadgate and ask them for forgiveness. Until then, I shall not die. Verni perished fighting Belgoroth, so I shallplete her mission in her stead. That is my word.

    Your oath, you mean? I asked with a small chuckle. My hand traveled under my coat and brought out a small document. I tossed it to her, alongside a quill already dipped in ink. You will need this.

    What is this? Soraseo squinted as she read the document. A contract?

    Dozens of civilians and soldiers agreed to each take on one of your burns and wounds, I exined. I actually had to <em>turn down</em> a lot of volunteers to keep everything on one page.

    Turn down? Soraseo stared at me in disbelief. So many asked to bear my burden?

    You saved their lives, so bearing those marks seemed like a cheap way to pay you back, I replied warmly. Stand proud. Youve done good in this world.

    I couldnt see Soraseos mouth under her helmet, but from the way her cheeks strained she was probably smiling underneath. She signed the contract with a stroke of my quill. Her charred skin regained its smooth, porcin exterior in an instant. Her eyes healed from the smoke-induced blindness, her raven hair flowed out of her helmet, and her posture straightened.

    Let us go, Robin, Soraseo said. I stand ready.

    Our Monk had returned.

    Soraseo guided her horse inside the ship. I climbed after her. The ramp closed behind us and <em>Verni </em>lightly shook beneath us as it took off for Archfrost.

    The airships insides felt alive to me, its brass pipes pulsating with steam and essence, its polished metal corridors lining up like the innards of an impossibly great beast. The portholes offered me a brief glimpse of the world outside. Walbourg had swiftly shrank to the size of a speck of dust amidst serpentine rivers and valleys. Days worth of journey on horsefoot would pass within the span of hours.

    Marika, Mr. Fronan, and I focused on utilities over luxury when we developed the airship, though we made a central atrium to amodate our important guests. I hoped they would find the carpets, refreshments, and the splendid view of the sea of clouds outside a pleasing experience. The <em>Verni </em>was no flying House of Gold, but Walbourgs diplomats should have no reason toin about the services onboard.

    Moreover, I had set a surprise for them: a soft, soothing biwa melody echoing through the ship. Soraseo immediately recognized the tune. That is my song.

    A set of pipes amplifies a soundstones music across the ship, I exined. With luck, a few of our guests willmission more for themselves.

    I intended to use this trip to gather some capital if I wanted to further develop the soundstone project.

    Youll earn some royalties off the sales, of course, I told Soraseo as I guided her below deck under the soft light of runestonemps to a small animal box meant to house a dozen horsesthe few we had space enough to transport. We couldnt have built this system without your advice.

    I need no gold. Soraseos hand moved to her swords hilt, her eyes closing in contemtion. Listening to my homnds song is reward enough.

    We moved Soraseos mount to its penwhich it would share with my dear Mudkeepand then moved deeper inside the <em>Verni</em>. I wished to show her something.

    I heard the central furnace thrumming not so far from our position. The rooms and corridors appeared suffused with elemental essence to my magical sight. Most traveled up to fuel the balloon to keep us afloat, while the rest fueled helixes that moved the ship forward when the wind proved insufficient.

    I have no words, Soraseo said. She kept looking through the portholes, taking notes of the ces we rode across on our way to Walbourg. I see birds.

    Mesmerizing, isnt it? I asked with a chuckle. The ship was built with Walbourg and Archfrosts resources, so I suspected it would be the countrys gship in the years toe. Ill have tomission another for myself.

    I am not certain youll have the funds for a ship as big as this one, Marikas voice echoed behind me. Our ships captain had left her cabin to greet us personally. Wee back, Sora.

    Thank you, Marika. Soraseo took Marikas hands into her own. For believing in me.

    Were friends, arent we? Marika replied warmly. I overheard your discussion outside, and an idea crossed my mind. We could easily reach the Deadgate with this ship. It should resist the northern cold.

    It would spare us a long and arduous journey, I confirmed.

    Us? Soraseo frowned at me. You woulde with me?

    Ive thought it over, and I intend to leave Archfrost after we deal with Belgoroth. One way or another. I would like to make peace with a few people before that.

    I understand, Soraseo replied. I will dly travel with you, my friends.

    Where would you go afterward, Robin? Marika asked with curiosity, though she didnt appear surprised by my decision. The Fire Inds?

    Ill go where my words and deeds will have the most impact, I replied with a shrug. Maybe I would go visit Mersie, the Fire Inds, or the Everbright Empire as Therese suggested. I could also go to the Arcadian Freeholds to help deal with the Shadow. So many ces in Pangeal needed the Merchant, whether to fight demons or improve their infrastructure. I feel I need a fresh start, if that makes sense.

    I get you, Marika said, her hand scratching the back of her head. I need one too. Ill probably tag along if Beni agrees to leave Snowdrift.

    Its a deal, I replied. I wondered if Colmar would be open to the idea of a trip. The four of us Heroes traveling, changing the world with one hand and saving lives with the other now that would make for an adventure worth remembering.

    Afterward, we descended to the secret armory. A set of six cannons lined up the room, three on each side mounted on swivels to aim with precision. Their steel barrels were better polished than mirrors. Intricate lines of fire runestones woven in the metal glowed with a bright orange light; enchanted grates at the weapons backends would absorb the recoil of their projectiles. All of them faced walls of brass designed to move and expose the hulls nks once the <em>Verni </em>entered battle.

    The beastman merchant Aiglemont was keeping watch over them, as fascinated by their design as he was frightened to touch them.

    Lord Heroes, he said upon noticing us. My apologies, I could not resist checking them more closely. I had never seen one so close

    No harm done, I replied with a smirk. I reacted the same way when Eris teleported back to our warehouse with those engineering wonders. I hope you are enjoying our flight.

    It is an honor to participate in this maiden voyage, Lord Merchant, the beastman replied with a hint of embarrassment. However is it wise for me toe? Your friends in Archfrost might resent you for bringing a beastman along.

    If they do, then they were never my friends, I replied confidently. Archfrost will need to make peace with beastmen, one way or another. This airship wouldnt exist without you, so you are entitled to a spot on its crew.

    That silk of yours let us increase our nned payload twofold, Marika added. The whole kingdom needs to know.

    I can ask for no better publicity than this flying ship, Aiglemont agreed. My suppliers in Alnd will be very pleased.

    Soraseo crossed her arms as she examined the cannons. I recognize them, she said. These are Iremians rune cannons. My peoples warships feared them more than storms and thunder.

    Eris purchased them for us on Archfrosts behalf, and my power transported them to Walbourg, I confirmed. The <em>Verni </em>should possess more power than any warship now.

    Iremian canons can shatter castle walls in a single shot, or so I was told, Marika said. With our airships altitude advantage, we could fire down on andbound target without fearing retaliation. No catapult can reach us above the clouds.

    With luck, these cannons would prove a decisive weapon against Belgoroth. Once we received the Magestest delivery of essence-charged runestones, we would use most to destroy Archfrosts Blights and keep the rest as projectiles to hit the Lord of Wrath with.

    Some might consider the wisdom of using cannons to hit a single warrior. I personally found six of these weapons far too few for that purpose. A shame that Irem didnt have enough of them in stock to sell us more.

    A voice echoed through the pipes. Captain, our escort ising from the east.

    Soraseo frowned in confusion. Our escort?

    Mankind hasnt waited for ships to conquer the sky, I replied while taking steps toward the porthole. I nced at the horizon and swiftly noticed small shadowsing from Archfrostsnds. An old friend ising to say hello.

    A squad of immacte pegasi riders flew straight at us from the eastern mountains, with a familiar friend leading them. Archfrosts royal banners fluttered in the wind in her strong hands.

    ire never failed to look <em>fierce</em>.

    Her mount Silverine had fully recovered from the wounds she suffered in Snowdrift. In fact, she appeared to have gained in speed and quickness. The pegasus outpaced the rest of the escort and swiftly caught up to the <em>Verni</em>.

    Then it struck me like a lightning bolt.

    That unmistakable sense of familiarity radiating from my mark.

    ire must have sensed it too, for she had Silverine fly right next to my porthole. Brynslows countess faced us without a helmet, her braid floating in the wind behind her, a silver symbol shining between her eyes: a stylized wheel holding a hoof in its center alongside the Erebian numeral for <em>seven</em>.

    The mark of the Cavalier.

 Commerce Emperor on KU and Audible!

    Commerce Emperor on KU and Audible!

    Hello everyone,

    Apologies for the double post after yesterday, but the calendar is as it is; as warned a few months ago, the first volume of <em>Commerce Emperor, </em>covering the prologue to chapter neen, is now finally avable on Kindle Unlimited and Audible!

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    <strong>Amazon</strong>: /amazon/B0CRF8V452

    <strong>Audible</strong>: /pd/Commerce-Emperor-Audiobook/B0CTRFSSG1

    As usual, I would be super thankful for any review, shares, or just word of mouth. <em>Kindle Unlimited</em> is a challenging environment for non-LitRPG fantasies, so any help is wee.

    In any case, I wished to thank you for supporting that story. It''s been a real challenge in many ways (new longer chapter schedule, first viewpoint, no numbers) but I''m pretty happy with how it turned out; and I hope you''ve enjoyed reading Robin''s adventures and those of his fellow misfit Heroes so far.

    Best regards,

    Voidy.

 Chapter Forty: The Cavalier

    Chapter Forty: The Cavalier<blockquote><em>A few weeks ago, the night Belgorth arose in Walbourg</em></blockquote>

    The council room was cold in the evening.

    The setting sun heralded the call of iing darkness and a warm summer night under a starry sky. She looked at the window, imagining the gentle wind blowing on her face. It took all her willpower not to go outside and enjoy it firsthand.

    Lady Brynslow? Lady Freygrad called out to her. Are you listening?

    ire Brynslow disliked herst name. It had felt heavy at first, and then outright loathsome.

    Truth be told, no, she hadnt been listening. Not with her full attention. It was bing harder for her to focus on Snowdrifts council meetingstely. <em>I miss Robin and Therese, </em>she thought.<em> Those two always made those reunions lively.</em>

    Colmar looked over his documents just long enough to nce at her. She couldnt see anything past his ss eyes, but his voice betrayed a hint of concern. ire?

    I was listening, ire lied as she focused back on the meeting. The citys council looked at her while waiting for directions she could hardly provide. I still fail to see the problem.

    I do not think you appreciate the seriousness of our situation, Lady Freygrad said. Thirty ships is arge order. Our shipyard cant satisfy it without extensive recruitment and

    Lady Freygrad, ire interrupted her with a small smile. All I hear is <em>good </em>news.

    A year ago, Lady Freygrad only ever visited to announce fruitless efforts to renovate Snowdrift or to attract neers to rece their falling poption. Now sheined about receiving too many orders for their shipwrights and craftsmen.

    ire never expected to find herself in this situation. Snowdrifts support of Rnd had caused an influx of funds from the princes vassals who needed weapons, housing, and a hub for their military logistics. Now that the capital had fallen back into the loyalists hands, Snowdrift had been richly rewarded for its loyalty. Rnd already issued the city a few benefits on trade as a reward for supporting his bid, such as reduced tariffs on imported goods from foreign nations and a temporary exemption from export taxes; a measure which had Thereses fingerprints all over it.

    Whatever the reasons behind it, the tax exemption had already caused a few investors from the Rivend Federation to turn their attention to Snowdrift. A merchant princemissioned them an order of thirty ships for their merchant navy on top of previous orders from Archfrosts royal fleet. Robins agricultural reforms and Colmars sess in enriching Snowdrifts farmnds had resulted in a greater harvest and productivity, a process which freed up manpower from the countryside. A day didnt pass without ire hearing of peasants moring for city work.

    It seems to me that our manpower issue will solve itself on its own, ire said. A short-time use of Robins skill clothes allowed untrained neers to pick up the basics in little time. I recall youining that we are struggling to house the new immigrants.

    Astonishing as it may sound, our previously empty houses and warehouses will soon find themselves all upied, Lady Freygrad confirmed. She clearly wished that Marika hadnt left the city. The Artisan could have easily solved that housing problem. Our real issue, Lady Brynslow, is that the demand for Snowdrift goods and ships outpaces our current production. We will either have to turn downmissions or dy our deliveries.

    ire already knew which option Robin would choose in her ce. She chose to follow his wisdom.

    We will turn down new orders, she said. Snowdrift needs to inspire trust in its partners, and nothing kills trust quicker than dys.

    Colmar nodded in assent. The city already struggles to gather the material needed to satisfy new orders in a quick and steady manner even with my power. Since I will not stay in the city forever, I suggest that you turn towards more sustainable means ofmercial expansion.

    Please do not remind us of your future departure, Lord Alchemist, Lady Freygradined with a sigh. We shall mourn your loss greatly.

    I take it that the Blight will soon be purged? ire asked. Colmar wouldnt leave the city with that poison still threatening it.

    The Berserk me inside the <em>Gilded Wolf</em> grows stronger by the day, Colmar admitted. However, the flux of positive essence generated by Snowdrift outpaces its growth and slowly douses it. My experiments with the Mages runestones have also yielded encouraging results. Even if Robins n to transport the Blight to another area where we can destroy it safely fails, it should soon peter out on its own.

    Peter out. ire vividly recalled their descent into the Blights heart, how its evil had poisoned dozens and twisted them into monsters. She remembered its evil, its burning rage, its searing mes born of hatred and bloodlust

    It relieved her to learn that her city would soon heal of its corruption on its own. Snowdrift would ovee its past scars and turn towards a brighter future.

    She wished she could say the same for herself.

    I heard you visit Florence each day, ire told Colmar after the meeting concluded. Why?

    I never give up on a patient, Colmar replied. The sickness that consumes Florence is an emotional one, but I hope to cure it nheless.

    Shes not worth it, Colmar, ire warned him. She still resented her for killing her grandfather, even after learning the truth about him. However shady he might have been, he deserved better than a slow death by poisoning.<em> Mother deserved better too.</em> That woman has killed thousands.

    Colmar refused to hear any of it. I have lost someone too. Someone I could not save. It led me down a dangerous path from which I still bear the marks of. I hope I can pull Florence back from it.

    ire personally considered it a lost cause, but she respected Colmar enough not to push the subject. If anything, the apothecarys dogged determination to help others, even a person who had tried to kill him, impressed her to her core. She wished she possessed a spine as stiff and strong as his own.

    I have been feeling offtely, she confessed. Adrift.

    I cannot heal that pain, ire, Colmar replied wisely. You already know what cure you need. Good treatments might cause pain in the short-term, but they are required for long-term health and happiness.

    Yes, she understood what she had to do. It simply frightened her because it meant admitting how much of her life she had wasted on lies.

    I need fresh air to think, ire decided.

    Will you travel alone again? Colmar joined his fingers, his voice heavy with disapproval. I would advise otherwise. It is unwise to leave the castle without an escort.

    Any would-be assassin is wee to try and take my head. At this point, Snowdrift could easily thrive without her. The citys council only needed her to stamp her familys seal on documents nowadays. Her people solved their own problems. I shall greet them properly.

    The more she stayed in Snowdrift, the more she regretted not joining Robin and Therese south. There she could have made a real difference. Fought those who threatened her homnd instead of signing foreignmissions and housing construction orders.

    ire wasnt made for this life. She had known it since the moment her grandfather named her his heir and dashed her dreams of knighthood.

    It was only now that it had be <em>unbearable</em>.

    Once night had fallen upon Snowdrift, ire took Silverine out of the stables for a ride. Her pegasus, her oldest and truest friend, hardly needed directions to take her up in the air and above the city. She knew their destination by heart.

    You understand me better than anyone, dont you? ire whispered as she petted her mounts head. Silverine let out a gentle neigh in response. Sometimes, ire wondered if she was talking back. Witchcrafters said that pegasi were smart enough to speak, and wise enough not to.

    Snowdrift looked so alive from above the clouds. The forges burned in the night with a new glow. Merchant ships traveling back and forth from the Rivend Federation traveled up and down the river. The dreary districts near the port now bustled with activity, once empty houses shining with the lights of their upants. Even the <em>Gilded Wolfs</em> district saw new upants unafraid of the Blight sealed within its basement.

    Robin had kept his promise. He truly brought Snowdrift back from the brink.

    <em>And he could have done it without me,</em> ire thought sullenly. She didnt resent Robin and the other Heroes for the support they gave her, far from it. She loved Snowdrift and wished it to prosper. She simply felt bitter about her own uselessness. <em>Im not in my proper ce.</em>

    ire thought taking time for herself would let her figure it out. It helped for certain. She knew the path to take. Now she only needed the resolve to tread it.

    Silverine carried her above the silent hills around Snowdrift and to the ruins of Mothers convent. Shended near the silent tombstones under the red light of the Firemoon. The ce was silent. Few people visited this graveyard, except for the rare Arcane Abbey pilgrims praying for the souls of the dead. The peace and quiet helped her think.

    ire climbed down from Silverine and approached her mothers tomb. As usual, she had brought flowers for the dead and a longsword for herself. While she preferred solitude, she wasnt mad enough to travel without a weapon.

    Greetings, Mother, ire whispered under her breath. I am sorry I havent visitedtely. A war demanded my attention.

    That was a lie. She could have visited earlier, just not alone. Her retainers would never have let her leave the castle alone so long as a civil war raged. Now that peace had returned, she could finally move without arousing too much fear or suspicion.

    ire put the flowers on her mothers grave and then offered a silent prayer. Silverine tensed up at her side, her equine ears turned to the woods around the monasterys ruins. Had she heard an animal? Or something else?

    Would tonight be the night?

    ire waited a moment, a hand firmly waiting on her swords hilt. When the night answered her caution with silence, she rxed a little. She stared at her mothers tomb, took a deep breath, and spoke her piece.

    I cant take it anymore, ire confessed to the tombstone. The name Brynslow. Not since Her jaw tightened with anger. Not since I learned the truth. That grandfather poisoned you.

    Mother didnt answer. ire had hoped she would one day, when she was too young to know of the Soulforge and the fact that the dead were better off in the ground.

    Still, ire hoped that her mothers spirit could hear somehow. It gave her strength and the resolve she needed.

    I dont want to bear a bloodstained name like that one, ire said. Once she had seen it as an honor, and now, as a curse. Grandfather killed you for dishonoring it. No name should be so precious as to warrant an innocents murder.

    Silverine lowered her head, her elegant tail sweeping from left to right, her legs flexing as if to jump at an unseen target. The shadows thickened around them, the wind softly blowing on ires cheek. She strengthened her grip on her longsword but remained resolute.

    I have decided I have decided to abdicate, ire finally dered; both to her mothers tombstone and to herself. She felt much lighter afterward. To continue upholding the Brynslow name would mean sitting on your corpse, Mother, and I She let out a sigh. I do not have the heart for it.

    Thats good, a male voice said behind her. That was what she wanted for you.

    He had finally shown himself.

    You arete, ire said as she quickly turned to meet the intruder. I thought you would never show yourself.

    Oh? A young man walked out of the shadows, dressed in a rich ck tunic. Is that why you came alone?

    You wouldnt have shown up otherwise, ire replied. She quickly recognized him as Rnds treacherous squire Sebastian. The Knot of Greeds leader, and ording to Robins warning letters her father.

    He hadnt changed much since hest visited Snowdrift with the prince, but his eyes His unblinking eyes were now a deep shade of crimson, redder than fresh blood. The same inhumanity that fueled Fenviros and Chastel both animated the man.

    So its true, ire whispered, a slight unease filling her heart and pain racing through her arm. Thest demon she encountered broke it alongside many other bones. Youve sold your soul.

    For love, he replied with aplomb.

    ire responded by unsheathing her sword and pointing at the demon, while Silverine expanded her wings in a brazen intimidation disy. He did not move an inch.

    Are you truly my father? ire asked dryly.

    Yes. He smiled at her utterck of courtesy. I expected a warmer wee.

    You abandoned me at birth to work with demons trying to destroy my homnd, what else did you expect? ire spat to the ground. A kiss?

    A warmer wee, Sebastian repeated himself. If he was disappointed, he didnt show it. For all its worth, I am sorry. Your mother and I intended to take you away to a safer ce, but by the time I made the necessary arrangements, she was dead and your grandfather kept you out of my reach.

    Lies, ire replied, unimpressed. She was <em>through </em>with sweet-talkers. You were the Knot of Greeds leader. If youd spent half the resources you used to ruin Archfrost to kidnap me, no one could have stood in your way.

    True, but if a man is a man, he lives up to his responsibilities, and infiltrating Archfrost was one of mine. His red eyes lingered on the tombstone, though ire detected no sorrow in them. Only a strange, foreign curiosity. Truthfully, I only realized how much I loved your mother after I lost her.

    You didnt love her enough to leave flowers on her grave, ire countered.

    Because I never intended for her to <em>stay </em>here. He shook his head in annoyance. You are not making this easy for me, my daughter.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Daughter? The word filled ires heart with bitterness. By blood perhaps, but nothing else. He hadnt been here when she and her mother lived as prisoners inside the convent, or after ire lost her to the fire, or when she tried to steer Snowdrift away from decay, or when she dealt with the mess his fellow cultists started. The one thing he ever did for her was ordering Florence to spare his daughters life, a demand she tried to fulfill by letting her pet demon break both of her arms.

    ire didnt know this man, but she understood <em>demons</em>. His actions spoke for themselves. ire didnt want his love. She wanted the <em>truth</em>.

    Is Sebastian your true name? she asked sharply.

    Does it matter? he answered with a shrug. Ive had so many names, Ive forgotten half of them. Sebastian is the name your mother wished to give you if you had been born a boy, so I cherished it.

    If he thought it would soften ires heart, he was mistaken. She did not lower her guard. He seemed to havee alone, but she knew better than to underestimate a demon.

    What lies did you feed Mother? ire asked, her tone so venomous it surprised her. Pent-up anger she had long suppressed swelled back to the surface. She would never have loved you if she knew the truth.

    It is true I came to her as a liar, Sebastian confessed. ire refused to call him Father, even in her head. Lady Daltia demanded that Iy the groundwork for Lord Belgoroths return. Marrying into a noble family close to the northern border seemed the best way to infiltrate Archfrosts nobility. I could weaken the border and corrupt the countrys higher echelons from the inside.

    ire sneered in disdain. As she had thought. You just used her, she whispered in sorrow. Just like Grandfather used me.

    You are wrong. The more time I spent with your mother, the more I wished that my lies would be true. Sebastian looked up to the sky. She was such a willful, kind-hearted woman. Once she told me she was pregnant with you I abandoned my n. It cost me Lady Daltias favor.

    ire red at him. I dont believe you.

    Believe what you will, my daughter, but it is the truth. I only returned to the Knots once your grandfather put your mother in the dirt. Sebastians face twisted into a scowl of genuine fury. It wasnt enough to kill that pathetic old man, no. I wished him to watch the slow ruin of his legacy, the agony of hisnd, the death of his people. I ensured that he lost his sons until he had no choice but to choose you, the bastard granddaughter he considered a stain on his reputation, as his heir.

    Then he smiled, his sharp teeth glittering under the moonlight. It left ire unsettled. His grin reminded her too much of Chastels.

    I <em>destroyed </em>him, he said. His hatred sounded sincere enough. Then I served Lady Daltia in bringing ruin to Archfrost. She promised to revive your mother for me in return.

    <em>All of this pain and suffering for a grudge </em>ire struggled to suppress the sickness in her stomach. Mother would never have wanted any part in this madness. The fact that this madman used her as an excuse to ughter thousands filled her with disgust.

    The Devil of Greed shortchanged you, ire replied harshly. How is freeing the Lord of Wrath going to save anyone? He seeks to kill us <em>all</em>.

    Belgoroth is a tool. The threat that shall prop up Lady Daltias glorious return. He will be the eye of the storm that will reshape the world. Sebastian waved his hand at the horizon behind the mountains. When the people see him tten their world, they will lose faith in their false Heroes and turn back to the true ones. The weak and those in despair will surrender themselves to Lady Daltia. They will give her their souls for her to forge her crown.

    ire squinted in confusion. Her crown?

    The crown of a new world, he replied with a ghastly smile full of feverish madness. One made for the true believers. <em>Paradise</em>.

    <em>Hes insane</em>, ire realized. His deal with the Devil of Greed had taken whatever reason he might have had. Why are you here, <em>Sebastian</em>?

    You will not call me Father, even now? The demon took a step forward. I came for you. For <em>her</em>.

    Stop right there, ire threatened. She adjusted her stance slightly for battle, while Silverine tried to shield her behind her wings. Another step and Ill

    I am not here to hurt you, my daughter, Sebastian insisted, stopping just short of ires sword range. Lady Daltia has shown me the way to return your mother to life.

    Lies! ire gritted her teeth. The dead donte back!

    Have you taken a look at the false Alchemist? Why he never takes off his mask? Sebastian let out a snort. Your mothers soul awaits beyond the Deadgate. You can help me revive her.

    Stay back, ire warned onest time as the demon closed the distance between them. Silverine let out a furious neigh, her forelegs stomping the ground. Im warning you

    Sebastian let out augh, his fair face swelling with gruesome pustules. His eyes sank into his skull in an instant and vanished under a tide of white flesh alongside his nose, mouth, and ears. Something crawled beneath his skin and threatened to erupt at any time.

    Silverine pped her wings and leaped at the demon to trample him. A vain effort. The faceless monster backhanded her with inhuman strength. Silverine was thrown to the side like hay by the wind, her frame hitting the grass with a loud crash.

    Her heart skipped a beat in rm before she charged with a sweep of her sword. She aimed for the throat in a decisive strike. Her weapon cut through the air at blinding speed, but still not fast enough to surprise the demon. His hand grabbed the de in midair with incredible dexterity, his pallid fingers closing on the t parts of the edge.

    Did you take yourself for the Knight? Sebastian mocked her, the wordsing from inside his throat with no mouth to utter them. His other free hand moved in front of ires chest. You are only human, my child.

    Darkness swirled around the demons finger. ire felt its cold grasp sink into her chainmail and kiss her flesh underneath, a chill that reached all the way to her soul. She was propelled back by a force as strong as a battering ram, Sebastian letting go of her sword as she flew.

    Her back hit her mothers tombstone. She heard it crack while her eyes saw stars and a terrible pain racked her spine. She might have snapped like a twig without her chainmail and heavy clothes to soften the blow.

    ire attempted to get back to her feet, but the demon tackled her to the ground before she could even kneel. Gone was the handsome man who had followed Rnd around like his shadow. The creature leaping on ire had be a mismatched, stitched horror of white flesh, and male parts mixed with female ones in an unholy, faceless abomination.

    A precious human still, Sebastian said. His hands grabbed both of ires wrists and forced her to her back on the soft grass. A great-granddaughter of Apocris through me, the great archmage of Irem and scion of the Lich of Gluttony. The blood of the <em>true </em>Heroes flows in our veins.

    Let me go! ire snarled. She attempted to push the demon off her with her feet, but he crawled over her stomach. She might as well be hitting a wall of stone. His white flesh had gained the solidity of ancient bones.

    Mine has dried up, but yours can open the door. I considered this n for so long I never went through with it because I feared your mother would hate me for it, but now A sharp, vertical line opened in the middle of the faceless mans skull; it swiftly widened into a mouth full of sharp teeth. Now my mind is so clear, I fear <em>nothing</em> anymore.

    To ires horror and disgust, a forked tongue emerged from the fanged maw. The abominations flesh wriggled with what could pass with disgusting enthusiasm.

    Your mothers soul will need apatible vessel, Sebastian said, his cold tongue licking ires cheek. Her body shivered with disgust, but the demon kept her firmly pinned under his weight. Now that you have reached the right age, we can get right back to where we left off. After serving that fool Rnd for so long, Ive missed the touch of female flesh

    The sky shone with silver light.

    Sebastian snapped his head at the stars above and instinctively let go of ires hand to protect his head with his palm; a short but fatal mistake. She swiftly jammed her sword through his head.

    You little Sebastian snarled, the de pierced through the vertical jaw and throat. His wound shed no blood and he showed no hint of dying, so ire furiously kept pushing down to the hilt.

    The silver light above only grew stronger. ire barely had time to look up to see a star falling down to earth and upon her. Something hotter than any me hit her between her eyes with the strength of an arrow, drawing a cry of agony out of her.

    It <em>burned</em>. She felt a hot iron seal imprinting itself in her sh, marking her, iming her.

    Then something cold grabbed her by the throat. A strong hand mmed her skull against her mothers tombstone as the silver light blinded her, scrambling her head. She barely had time to sense the warm flow of her blood dripping down her skull before she was mmed face-first into the grass and kissed dirt. An impossibly strong grip seized her throat and began to squeeze.

    After all I have done for you she heard the demon who used to be her father rage on as he clenched with all his inhuman strength. Her sword was still stuck midway inside his head. It did not stop him, nor slow him down. After all Ive done for you!

    ire opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out of her crushed windpipe. Her vision blurred as her lungs desperately gasped for air, her arms convulsing.

    A cloud of white smoke erupted at her side and a furious cry echoed in the night. A pair of hooves hit Sebastian with immense weight, shattering his skull, caving in his twisted chest, and sending him flying off ires chest. A sh of orange light filled her vision before she could recover, filling the air with warmth.

    <em>Silverine?</em> ire managed to turn her head to the side. Her trusty pegasus furiously stomped a pile of mes underfoot with all her might and anger. Gold dust burned on the grass. What What''s happening?

    A shadow loomed over ire and took her in its arms. ires vision stabilized as her lungs filled with fresh air again. She recognized a woman with long ck hair, clothed in the Arcane Abbeys clothes. Her staff shone with the light of exhausted fire runestones and spilled faint smoke.

    -With me the woman said, though it took ires addled mind a few seconds to understand her words. ire, stay with me!

    I Im fine she managed to rasp. Oh good, it felt like she was breathing again. Lady Eris is that you?

    I usually arrive at the worst of times. Eris smiled warmly as she offered ire her hand. This time might be the exception.

    <em>Indeed.</em> ire slowly rose back to her feet, using her mothers cracked tombstone to stand. She looked at her pegasus. A pile of burning, shattered bones that ire assumed to be her fathery at Silverines feet. Her pegasus furious onught and Eris mes had turned him utterly unrecognizable. Red smoke arose from his remains, reducing them to ashes. <em>Hes hes gone?</em>

    Her father was gone? ire wondered whether or not to believe it. She thought she would feel something at the realization, like anger, relief, or sadness. Instead, a deep emptiness filled her heart.

    His demise had changed nothing. It happened too soon, too swiftly.

    Lady Eris I am relieved to see you again It hurt ires throat to speak, yet she pushed on. But why?

    I came to check on our new Cavalier. Eris winked at her. I had a feeling it would be you.

    <em>The Cavalier?</em> She wasnt making any sense. Yet ire sensed a strange warmth between her eyes. She sensed a thin scar when her hand brushed against it, too sharp and clear for a burn. <em>Could it be?</em>

    Who was that fiend? Eris asked as she watched the bonfire. A sinister golden coin remained burning amidst the ashes, alongside ires sword. This seemed <em>personal </em>between you.

    He was no one, ire replied gloomily as Silverine licked her wound. A ghost.

    No one worth remembering.

    The ship soared through Archfrostian skies.

    It didnt surprise ire all that much. If a horse could fly, why not a ship? At least this one wasrge enough for Silverine tond on its deck. Her pegasus looked over the rarm at her side with curiosity.

    The other Heroesit felt like a dream for ire to think these wordshad gathered on the airships deck to wee her. The group included both old and new faces. ire had very much missed Marika, Soraseo and Robin.

    Robin most of all.

    When did this battle take ce? Soraseo asked.

    The night my predecessor died, when Belgoroth escaped in Walbourg, ire replied. She had grown convinced that her father approached her on that day because Snowdrifts resurgent Berserk me would keep Colmar upied. Ive worn a headband since. Eris thought it would be better if we kept that incident under wraps to fool the Knots.

    I still cant believe Eris didnt tell <em>us</em>, Marikained. Why did that tattletale not say a word?

    Eris keeps everyones secrets, Robin muttered before gathering his breath. ire, that thing youve killed

    Was my father, I know, she interrupted him, avoiding his gaze. Ive indirectly killed both my parents.

    Mother because of her bastard birth; and her father because she helped drive a sword through his head.

    No, you havent, he insisted, trying to lift her spirits. It wasnt your father, only his sins and ws made flesh. You and Eris have in a demon with his face, no more.

    What difference does it make which part of him I slew? He is dead now. ire shook her head. I do not regret it, Robin. He was a monster and it had to be done.

    It angered her to recall how he had cracked Mothers tombstone. For all his talks of loving her, he had no shame in despoiling her resting ce.

    Robin seemed to understand she didnt want to speak of herte sire further. He was sharp enough to realize she felt no guilt nor remorse for putting down a monster, even one that brought her into this world.

    I see, he said, his scowl easing up. Whatever, I am d to see you safe and sound. That could have turned ugly.

    It could have, ire conceded. Her head injury might have killed her had Silverine not brought her back to Colmar in time. It is good to see you too, my friends.

    Robin smirked at her. So you <em>did </em>miss us.

    Yes, I did. ire crossed her arms. He had that infuriating way of annoying her at the worst possible times. Do not get used to it, Robin.

    I am deeply sorry for what you had to go through, child, Lady Selestine said. She took ires hands into her own, her fingers warmer than a forge. Know that you may count on my support, should you need it.

    ire only had her ss for a few weeks, but she had quicklye to grasp its powers and limits. The Cavaliers mark let hermand any beast that she mounted, whether a horse or a monster. Wild deers who had never tolerated a mans touch became docile the moment she jumped on their backs. Moreover, her mark immediately informed her what counted as an eligible mount wherever she touched them.

    ires mark burned on her forehead.

    <em>My power counts this woman as a monster to be ridden. </em>Something that had yet to happen with any other human. <em>Could she be a beastman in disguise?</em>

    Thank you, Lady Priest, ire said as she hastily removed her hands. She knew Lady Selestine meant wellthough her crimson eyes bothered her, that woman didnt seem to have a fiber of spite in her bodybut emotional disys always left ire unsettled. However, Ie today to support you, not the other way around. I have received dire news from the north. A beastman army has gathered near the border.

    The servants wait for the master to rise, Soraseo muttered darkly. The Knots will strike then. The final battle is at hand.

    I doubt Sebastians death will harm the Knots efforts, Robin noted. The cult probably reced him the moment he became a demon enved by his own desires. His death does remove a loose end though.

    Rnd will be saddened, Marika said. He wanted to kill Sebastian himself.

    Robin scowled. Believe me, its for the better that he didnt.

    Difficult days await us, but I have faith, Lady Selestine said with a kind smile. Soon, the Knight and his vassals shall stand against the Lord of Wrath once more, as they were meant to.

    <em>I am finally where I should be,</em> ire realized. <em>Fighting demons on Silverines back at my friends side. This is my ce.</em>

    She understood now. All her life, she had let others decide her fate. She had danced to the tune of her grandfathers approbations and her fathers scheme, surrendering her freedom for the sake of duty and family honor.

    Her Mother never desired any of it. She had wanted to take ire away from this nonsense so she could be free to make her own decisions.

    And her daughter would honor her wish. She would live her life, not as a Countess or a Brynslow, but as <em>ire</em>. She would for Archfrosts people as a knight. As <em>herself</em>, on her own terms.

    However, she had onest mission to deal with before she could face the future.

    If I may ire cleared her throat. I have a request.

    All eyes turned in her direction. A request? Robin asked.

    I have decided to abandon the title of Countess of Brynslow, ire dered. She felt lighter the moment the words escaped her mouth. Once I do, I intend to travel to the Deadgate.

    You want to be amoner? Marika asked, surprised. Are you certain?

    I am, ire confirmed. Her fight with her father had only solidified her decision. I do not wish to uphold my grandfathers bloodstained legacy. I intend to let the people of Snowdrift elect their ruler and shape their own destiny, as will I.

    But first, you must make peace with the dead, Soraseo said sharply, her eyes full of sorrow. With your mother.

    ire nodded slowly. If her mothers soul truly awaited beyond the Deadgate, she wanted to speak to her onest time.

    Well, we intended to journey to the Deadgate ourselves, Robin confessed. You are wee toe with us after you settle your affairs in Snowdrift.

    His calm reaction bothered ire. He had spent so long helping her secure her spot as Countess of Snowdrift; she would have expected him to be disappointed by her intent to renounce the title.

    You are not mad at me? she asked, astonished.

    Why would I be? Robin offered her a warm, sly smile. I told you I would support your decision, whatever it would be.

    Here it showed up again. That sincere, charming smirk that made it so difficult for ire to dislike him, even when his flighty attitude and smooth talk got on her nerves. When it came to his friends, Robin Waybright wore his feelings on his sleeves without a care in the world.

    ire had hated it once. She used to resent how he could express himself without fearing the judgment of others.

    Now?

    Now she realized she had possessed that strength in herself all along. ire didnt need anyone to tell her how to live her life. It belonged to her after all. No one would live it for her.

    Still, her friends unconditional support warmed ires heart.

    Thank you, she said from the bottom of her soul.

    You are wee, Robin replied, his arms crossing. Something bothers me, however. Your fathers demon mentioned the Devil of Greed forging a crown.

    If I remember correctly, you mentioned that she was feeding souls to an entity of some kind, Lady Selestine said.

    She did, Robin confirmed, much to ires unease. The thought of her father returning in one form or another disturbed her. The more I think of it, the more I wonder if theres a connection with her experiments on Soulforged Adamantine.

    The thought crossed my mind too, Marika added. Maybe Daltia created the Devils Coins and Belgoroths sword as prototypes for a more powerful weapon?

    Not a weapon, Lady Selestine said. A tool.

    Robin raised an eyebrow in her direction. A tool?

    Think about it, Lord Merchant, Lady Selestine said. The Devil of Greed considers herself the Goddess equal. Her first miracle was to create the world of Pangeal, so Daltia seeks to imitate her.

    The Priest nced at Mount Erebia. The first of the worlds mountains stood high across the horizon, its peak hidden by the clouds. There the Goddess descended with her four Artifacts to create Pangeal.

    ires heart froze in her chest, as the magnitude of the Devil of Greeds mad ambition suddenly became clear to her.

    I believe that you have guessed correctly, Lady ire, Selestine slowly. What did the Goddess use to craft this world?

    An Artifact, Robin replied, his face grim with stark terror. The Devil of Greed is forging an <em>Artifact</em>.

 Chapter Forty-One: The Plan

    Chapter Forty-One: The n

    I looked upon Archfrosts capital with a heavy gaze.

    When Koshro the Conqueror first unified thends that would eventually be Archfrost through violence, he decided to raise a grand pce between the barren ins and cold rivers that used to be his tribes home. When his advisors suggested that he set up his capital in more fertilends to the south, he famously replied that only hungry men could hope to rule.

    Koshro died before he could see his pces construction through and his dynasty hardly survived him by twenty years, but his future sessors fulfilled his vision. The capital of Whitethrone looked more like an elegant fortress than a modern city from the clouds above. Mighty walls thrice thicker and twice taller than Snowdrifts protected well-ordered streets of bricks and ancient stone. Great statues of fallen knights oversaw rectangr zas covered in mosaics representing dragons, griffins, dreadwolves, and other creatures. Whitethrones houses and buildings were taller than those of Walbourg; their architectural style more angr and less refined. I immediately recognized a tall marble tower fitting the description of Whitethrones famous witchcrafting academy and the holy mausoleum of Chernov, where the Priest-King rested. Thermal sources exhaled columns of white steam rising up to the sky.

    However, all of these monuments existed in the shadow of the Winter Pce: a colossal castle of exquisitely crafted ice, with five snow towers and stctite walls. A crystal briarbyrinth upied the space between the outer and inner walls, alongside gardens kept warm by thermal sources. It was a magical ce, a fleeting dream kept alive by the power of essence.

    Koshros son, Koshrak, had ordered his witchcrafters to build it with<em> ice that would never melt</em> to show his mastery over thend. So great was his ego that he wished to tame the very heart of winter. The sorcerers fulfilled his request by infusing ice with adamantine essence, a costly process that bankrupted the fledgling dynasty and led to its copse.

    Still, Koshraks grandiose dream endured for centuries and came to represent kingship over thend. Rulers came and went, but the castle? The castle stood eternal. All would-be kings of Archfrost had fought to hold it.

    <em>And now its Rnds turn</em>. I hoped my friend would keep the castle longer than his treacherous uncle did. <em>Can the Berserk me melt eternal ice, I wonder?</em>

    ire and I stood along the airships guardrail, though she appeared more interested in my expression than the architectural marvels below us. Thats strange, she noted. Most cant contain their excitement when they see the first Winter Pce for the first time. I expected more enthusiasm from you, Robin.

    Its a wonder to behold, I conceded. Stone would be more practical than ice if you ask me, but I admire the originality.

    Not enough to smile, ire replied, her arms crossed. Youre afraid.

    I gathered my breath. She knew me too well. I am.

    <em>A crown of souls and human desires.</em> The more I pondered that possibility, the more I came to believe Daltia was indeed trying to craft an Artifact of her own. What other feat could prove her aptitude to rece the Goddess Herself in the hearts of men?<em> She will create an Artifact that holds sway over the very soul of humanity.</em>

    Unlike the sky, the earth, the sea, and the fires of the world, the collective perception that ruled our sses didnt depend on the Artifacts. Mankind unknowingly determined the shape of our powers through consensus. If Daltia seeded in creating a crown capable of altering that flow of consciousness, it would strengthen the Merchant ss until it became <em>divine</em>.

    How much time did we have until the Devil of Greedpleted her work? Years? Centuries? How many human souls did it take to create an Artifact? I suspected no one knew the answer, not even Daltia herself. She had spent seven centuries bartering for souls, hoping that the next trade would be thest.

    No wonder Eris hunted the Devil Coins so relentlessly. I would discuss Daltias n with her in private once we found a moment to. This might help jog her memory; gain insight into her other selfs ns.

    I shook my head. Daltia was a long-term problem, and her divine ambitions to rule the world woulde for naught if Belgoroth destroyed it first. My magical sight already picked up the subtle currents of wicked essence traveling north of Archfrost, like winds subtly announcing the onset of a storm.

    Im a gambling man, but for the first time in a long while I dont see a clear path to victory, I admitted. We have options, but no guarantee that any of them will work.

    I supposed I struggled most with my own powerlessness. While I had done my best to plot Belgoroths demise with my allies, we couldnt tell whether our strategies would seed until we tried them. Worse, I would be forced to stay at the back. The sh in Walbourg had shown me just how little a Merchant factored in a sh of titans.

    People like you make their own luck, Robin, ire replied. Have more faith in us. We will pull through.

    I raised an eyebrow at her, amazed by her confidence. Since when did you be the optimist between us?

    Since you helped me lift the burden of the Brynslow name off my shoulders, ire replied, a smile on her lips. You supported me when I was at my lowest point, Robin. Now it is my turn to lift you up.

    We are pretty far up already. I chuckled and pointed at the clouds. Can Silverine carry us higher than the <em>Verni</em>?

    She will, if you buy off some of her weight, ire joked back. My, she had truly changed if she was willing to indulge in my nonsense. I know what youre thinking, Robin. Ive been there too. It is not a good feeling to rely on others to win your battles, but sometimes you have to let go.

    She did know me well. My eyes lingered on her mark. Your ss doesnt weigh on you like it does on Rnd, I noted. Quite the contrary. It freed you.

    It did. ire looked at the horizon and the mountains beyond. I am certain where I will go once we have defeated the Lord of Wrath and visited the Deadgate. The sky''s the limit now.

    <em>Once we defeat Belgoroth; not if. </em>Unlike me, ire didnt doubt our future victory. I had to admit her boldness rejuvenated my bravery. <em>She has grown.</em>

    She had a point too. ire trusted me to pull Snowdrift back from the brink, and now it was my turn to believe she and the others could match Belgoroth in battle. Gold wasnt the only measure of wealth.

    I was rich in powerful friends too.

    The <em>Verni </em>slowly began its descent towards the capital. Archfrosts soldiers had cleared the citysrgest za to make room for the airship and its guests. I could already see signs of festivities around the nearby streets: makeshift markets rising from nothing, crowds gathering to see the airships descent, throngs of visitors entering the capital through its gates

    Rnds coronation should take ce tomorrow, alongside the final signature of peace between Archfrost and Walbourg. My homnds people had two causes to celebrate after a decade of war and gue.

    I couldnt let the Demon Ancestors take their happiness from them.

    As expected, Rnd awaited us alongside his future queen and a host of noble dignitaries. A cadre of Heroes escorted them: Eris, Cortaner, and even Colmar. His presence surprised me. My undead friend would never have left Snowdrift without having fully restrained the Blight in its midst. Moreover, he had brought Little Benicio with him. Marikas son nervously fidgeted in ce, probably intimidated by the presence of so many adults around him, but his eyes lit up with excitement once he saw the <em>Verni</em>.

    I took it as a good omen.

    My gaze wandered to a new, yet familiar face among the crowd: a pale and fair beauty surrounded by a cadre of armored Penitent Ones, with long purple hair so dark it verged on ck and eyes of glittering gold. Her regal ck and red dress fluttered in the wind as she looked at the <em>Verni</em>. I immediately noticed an unmistakable physical resemnce to Selestine.

    I quickly guessed the womans identity even before I noticed the golden symbol on her forehead: the holy mark of the four Artifacts bound inside a circle and crossed by the Old Erebian numeral for twenty-one.

    Lysandra Alexios, Fatebinder of our age and mistress of the Arcane Abbey, hade to crown Rnd and deal with the Reformists. She was the first and final Hero, whose ssmanded all others; and the woman with the answers I sought.

    The <em>Verni </em>softlynded in the za far more easily than it did in Walbourg. Whitethrones architects designed the capitals streets to berge in order to let armies ride through them more easily, so our dear Captain Marika enjoyed more space to navigate. I climbed down first alongside ire, with Selestine and our fellow Heroes in tow as royal trumpets announced ouring.

    Rnd and his queen were the first to greet us. Wee home, my friends, he said upon warmly shaking our hands one after the other, while Therese exchanged a kiss on the cheek with ire. I have missed you.

    So did I, I replied with a smile. Is it proper for a king to shake hands with usmoners?

    Arent we all equals in the Goddess eyes as fellow Heroes? Rnd teased me back before kissing Selestines hand. Lady Selestine, I presume? As the Priest, what is your opinion?

    Whether kings or peasants, all lives should be treated with equal fairness, she replied calmly, though her gaze mostly lingered on the Fatebinder.

    Lady Alexios took a step forward to greet us, with Cortaner, Eris, and Colmar at her back. She and Selestine faced each other, a tense silence stretching between them. Anyone could have sensed the I wouldnt say <em>hostility</em>, but both clearly shared a mutual <em>defiance</em>.

    Selestine, Lady Alexios said, a hint of cold distance in her voice.

    We meet again, my aunt, Selestine replied with a respectful, if tense bowing gesture. I pray that you enjoyed a safe trip.

    Mine was less grandiose than yours. The Fatebinder looked up at the <em>Verni</em>. What a wonder your generation has built. A dragon of steel and skill.

    Ours doesnt breathe fire yet, I said while kissing Lady Alexios hand, as custom demanded. As I suspected, her skin felt as inhumanly hot as her nieces. It is an honor to meet you in the flesh, Lady Alexios.

    The feeling is mutual, Lord Waybright. Eris has spoken highly of you, and tales of your sesses have reached as far as Mount Erebia. Her words sounded sincere, if aloof. I could tell that this woman had none of Selestines gentleness. The Goddess smiles on your generation.

    <em>As she smiled on the first?</em> As her voice, I hoped you would enlighten us, I replied politely. We have many questions.

    Your Alchemist pressed me with inquiries the moment we met. Thankfully, Lady Alexios did not deny my request. I hoped to oversee a council of Heroes once these greetings conclude. We are running out of time.

    Soraseo squinted behind me and then asked, How much?

    A days time at best, Lady Alexios replied. From the certainty in her voice, I guessed she had a way of checking on the Demon Ancestors seals from afar. But we shall discuss it in private.

    I nced at the crowd of dignitaries around us. I had no doubt that Cortaner probably investigated each of them and identified who among them would belong to the Knots. However, an ounce of caution never killed anyone.

    I moved aside as the Walbourg delegation climbed down from the airship. I watched on with apprehension as Duchess Griselda appeared. Rnd greeted her with a brief, baleful look of pure resentment, as I would expect from someone meeting with his fathers killer. From the way Griseldas guards kept their hands on their swords hilts, they feared a fight too.

    Thankfully, my trust in both parties proved well-earned. Rnd gathered his breath and then offered his hand to Griselda in friendship. The duchess hesitated an instant before returning the gesture. I watched on in respectful silence as Walbourg and Archfrost finally agreed to peace.

    Colmar, Cortaner, and Eris soon joined me. My, my, thetter said with a sly smile. Here I feared that they would kill each other on sight.

    Men are wed, I replied, but they can learn to be better.

    Something a certain Lord of Wrath never understood, Eris conceded.

    Even Cortaner seemed optimistic about this resolution. I sensed no lies in their exchanges, he told me. You have done well, Waybright.

    Apliment from you, Corty? Eris asked with a raised eyebrow. And its not even backhanded? I am shocked.

    Do not toy with me, Brra, the Inquisitor replied sternly. I find your behavior highly suspicious. Lady Alexios trust does not keep you above reproach.

    I immediately came to her defense. Eris is flighty sometimes, but trustworthy.

    Is that so? Cortaner held my gaze for a moment. I sensed his power activating topel the truth out of me. Would you trust her with your life?

    Yes, I replied without hesitation, then added under the auspices of the Inquisitors power, Everyone is entitled to a second chance.

    Eris stared at me with an unreadable expression. Cortaner, meanwhile, kept his arms crossed as he studied my reaction. He had approached me with his suspicions on Eris when we left for Walbourg, so to hear these words from me probably reassured him.

    I see, Cortaner said, his words noticeably heavier than before. I pray that your trust is not misced, Waybright. Many deserve a second chance but few take it.

    Colmars head snapped from one of our allies to the other, then he wisely changed the subject. I am d that you could broker this peace treaty, Robin, hemented. This realm can finally mend its wounds.

    I hope so, I confirmed. I nced at Benicio, who had quickly run into his mothers arms. Marika smiled warmly upon seeing her son and hugged him tightly. If you agreed to attend the coronation, then I suppose the Blight is finally under control?

    As much as it can be. I anticipate that it will dissipate naturally soon enough, but we can still proceed with our original n. Colmar presented me with a map of the capitals outskirts. Arge part of it remained shrouded in the Blight created during our battle with Sebastian. I have taken the liberty of preparing the proper site outside the capital. All we need to do is gather Archfrosts Blights at the proper location with your power. The charged runestones I buried underground should wipe them out.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Now lets hope Rnd can sell me the Blights, I replied. Destroying all that corruption would prove a relief in these dangerous times. What about the quicklime solution?

    I have developed a chemical solution that quickly hardens when exposed to air and stockpiled barrels of it. Colmar pointed at my rapier. I have also experimented with transmuting weapons into adamantine, but results have been mixed so far.

    It doesnt surprise me, Eris said while looking away. It takes a good smith to work adamantine. The ore by itself is awfully impractical.

    Colmar gave her a strange look, as if suspicious as to why she understood so much about the substance. I often wondered how much my friend had picked up on the same hints that made me guess her true identity. Cortaner certainly noticed them.

    Once Rnd and Duchess Griselda finished with protocry exchanges of greetings and gifts, the guards ushered us Heroes into the Winter Pce proper for a council meeting. To my slight disappointment, not everything inside the castle was made of ice. The upants used hardwood for shelves and paved the floor with heavy carpets. Burning foyers also kept its corridors warm without melting the enchanted ice.

    On one hand, I apuded the practicality of those living choices; on the other hand, they contrasted a bit too much with the pces aestheticism. I would have used ss shelves.

    Robin? Eris whispered into my ear as we closed the march. Thank you for believing in me.

    Someone has to, I replied warmly, though I was slightly worried for her. Are you ready to confront <em>him</em>?

    No. Eris let out a sigh. But I wont waver either.

    No matter how much their paths diverged or the atrocities theymitted, she and Belgoroth used to be friends. It couldnt be easy for Eris to confront her living sins.

    Eventually, we made our way to the top of a tower in a cozy room of gleaming ice. A chill wind blew through an open window, right next to arge mirror standing in between bookshelves. A hardwood tablerge enough to amodate over a dozen people upied the center. I quickly sat there between Marika and Colmar. Rnd, Soraseo, and ire took the left; Selestine, Cortaner, and Eris the right; while Lady Alexios faced me from the other side.

    I took a moment to observe the assembly. The Priest, Merchant, and Knight had gathered with all their vassal sses. A third of this generations Heroes would stand against the Lord of Wrath. I hoped the number advantage would give us the edge.

    Wait, Marika said upon examining the mirror. Is this a one-way mirror? Is someone observing us on the other side?

    I am surprised you could tell with a nce, Lady Marika, Rnd said with a slight chuckle. This room is the prime ministers study. My predecessors used to keep spies on the other side to keep an eye on them.

    Selestine let out a sigh. I was told that Archfrost embraced the spirit of chivalry.

    Human nature does not stop at the border, I mused out loud. Some things never changed.

    Ive had the secret room condemned, Rnd dered. We can speak with open hearts.

    We can, but will we? Colmar asked, his ss eyes turning to the Fatebinder. He immediately went for the throat. You have much to answer for, Lady Alexios.

    The Fatebinder joined her hands, her expression cold and serene. This woman reminded me of a cier: ancient and unshakable. The Goddess alone will judge me, Lord Alchemist. What sin do you me me for?

    Withholding important information from us for a start, Colmar dered. You knew the Demon Ancestors were the first Heroes from the start, yet you kept their nature and capabilities hidden from us. Keeping this information a secret impaired our efforts to fight the Knots.

    ires head snapped in his direction in shock and surprise. It now urred to me that as thetest Hero to join us, I hadnt fully kept her in the loop yet. I suspected some of todays exchanges woulde to her as a shock.

    The Arcane Abbey has spent centuries doing everything in its power to strengthen the Heroes and weaken the Demon Ancestors, Lady Alexios replied calmly. Should the information that the two are one and the same be public knowledge, then the people of Pangeal would doubt you. Your marks would lose their luster, as would the Ancestors seals.

    But why not tell <em>us</em>? I asked sharply. We would have kept the secret.

    Do you think yourself the first Merchant who attempted to break their ss rules, Lord Robin? Lady Alexios appraised each of us. I didnt fail to notice the short pause she marked when observing Eris, though she quickly moved on to Rnd. Neither was Lord Rnd the first Knight to act unknightly.

    Rnd sank in his chair, his jaw clenched in frustration, but he did not deny his mistake.

    Whether done out of curiosity or in good faith, these acts mean to walk down a slippery slope, Lady Alexios said. My predecessors have learned at a great cost that Heroes who receive too many gifts too early grow entitled to them. The first generation achieved great feats such as a corrupted form of immortality; a temptation too great for some of their sessors to ovee.

    You wanted us just strong enough to fight the Demon Ancestors, but not to be powerful enough to rece them, I guessed. I supposed it made sense considering the risks that someone might find a loophole through the ss safety measures, but still, a little assistance would have spared us a great deal of trouble.

    Selestine scowled in displeasure. You havent changed much, my aunt. You cannot trust others to make informed decisions.

    I cannot afford to risk the safety of millions on a <em>hunch</em>, Selestine, Lady Alexios replied coldly. Even you must realize that this Reformist schism that you push weakens us at a critical moment.

    There is never a perfect time, my aunt, Selestine countered. This reform is long overdue.

    Cortaner snorted behind his helmet. Any moment would have been better than <em>this one</em>. Half the seals binding the Demon Ancestors have failed, and Belgoroths will shatter tomorrow.

    How can you be certain? Soraseo asked with a scowl.

    The first Heroes included a warning system in the seals, Lady Alexios exined. The Blights that the Knots spread across Archfrost have steadily weakened Belgoroths prison in the City of Wrath. I predict he will break free tomorrow, then travel south to devastate this country.

    My strategists anticipated as much, Rnd said grimly. I have already redeployed my troops to Stonegarde, where the beastmen gathered an army. We shall travel there as soon as the coronation concludes.

    We should leave <em>now</em>, Cortaner insisted sternly. We are wasting valuable time.

    We need all of Archfrost to acknowledge Rnd as its king, I countered, my fingers trembling. The moment of truth hade. Both to deal with the Blights and to help with my n.

    Cortaner turned in my direction. Your n?

    We have explored multiple methods to deal with Belgoroth, and one appears promising, I exined, a hand grabbing my rapier and another taking a dagger on my belt. Rnd, Ill need your help.

    Rnd frowned at me. Eris was supposed to exin our n to him, but he clearly struggled to understand its details. What must I do, Robin?

    Take my rapier and sell it to me for a gold coin, I all but ordered him. Then do the same with this dagger.

    Rnd followed through with my request with a puzzled look. He seized both weapons while the other Heroes watched on with attention; none more intensely than Eris and Lady Alexios.

    I shall sell you this rapier for a gold coin, Rnd proposed.

    I ept. My mark glowed, but refused to validate the trade. A shame. I had hoped for another oue. Now the other.

    Rnd raised the dagger I had given him. I will sell you this weapon for a golden coin.

    I consent to this trade.

    The weapon appeared in the palm of my hand in an instant, and my purse became lighter. My heart pounded so hard in my chest that I feared a stroke. Lady Alexios and Eris both exchanged a nce in understanding.

    Selestine, who knew the implications, didnt hide her enthusiasm. You were right, Lord Merchant, she said with a wide smile. It worked.

    I do not understand, Rnd said with a scowl, and he wasnt the only one. What worked?

    This rapier belongs to me; the dagger, to a dead soldier who fell fighting Belgoroth in Walbourg, I exined after calming down. ording to the intel weve gathered, Belgoroth can die. He wont <em>stay </em>dead, but if we y him in battle, therell be a very short window of time when he sleeps in the dirt.

    Indeed. The Fatebinder nodded sharply. Her fair, icy expression had finally softened a little. His soul will return to his sword and then use the flow of negative essence to craft a new body.

    Which means that for a very brief moment, Belgoroths sword willck an owner capable of providing consent, I exined. Now, the Knight masters any weapon he touches. I wondered if this included gaining a im to ownership over it. From what this experiment shows, if Rnd touches a weapon whose wielder is dead

    Then <em>I</em> count as its owner, Rnd guessed, his eyes bright with hope. Belgoroths soul and the corrupted mark are parts of the sword, are they not? With your power, we could split the ss

    I stopped him dead in his tracks. My power wont let me buy Belgoroths soul nor his ss; the former because it would vite the marks safeguards, the second because all sses belong to the Goddess instead of the Heroes wielding them. However, what I can do is trade <em>essence</em>.

    Oh, I understand! Colmar rubbed his gloved hands with enthusiasm. Creating Soulforged Adamantine requires binding an adamantine object to a worldly concept such as wrath or pride! Without that connection, it is no different frommon ore!

    Rnd remained lost. You wish me to sell you all of the worlds wrath?

    No, no, no. I smirked from ear to ear. You will sell me the swords <em>connection </em>to it.

    What difference does it make? Cortaner asked sharply.

    A big one, I replied. On the way to Walbourg, I attempted to transfer essence to an object unsuited to hold it. It immediately crumbled under the strain.

    Soulforged Adamantine focuses a concepts flow of essence into a conduit, Eris exined. Consider it like damming a river so wild and powerful that only adamantine can hold it back. Anything else is instantly destroyed.

    A Demon Ancestor is akin to a clock, I further borated. They are fueled by an intricate mechanism that feeds on itself. The Demon Ancestor bound their souls to Soulforged Adamantine. To soulforge their adamantine in the first ce, they used ancient witchcrafting techniques to connect their chosen item to a concept like wrath. The connection constantly feeds them with wicked essence that grants them immense power, corrupts their mark, and turns the seat of their soul indestructible. Henceforth, we have only two solutions to break down the machinery: end the very concept of wrath, which sounds impractical for now

    Or cut Belgoroth off from it, Rnd guessed, his eyes alight with enthusiasm.

    I nodded in confirmation and then turned to Rnd. If you sell me that connection as a package with amon itemlike say, a piece of clothingthe flow of corrupt essence will instantly destroy it. The object will crumble to dust under the weight of all Pangeals anger.

    Rnd shifted in his seat. Wouldnt it release the essence immediately? The Blight that would arise from it would dwarf all others.

    Robin wont buy the essence itself, Marika countered. He will buy the <em>connection </em>between the sword and the concept of wrath. The small, intricate gear that keeps the clock turning.

    Lady Alexios nodded in assent. Without a connection to the sword, the essence should simply revert back to its pre-Belgoroth state: aimless and everpresent. Anger will continue to exist, but it wont coalesce into a physical incarnation.

    Belgoroths sword will be a prison for his soul, Colmar muttered to himself. As an undead himself, he would know. Without ess to wrathful essence, he will be unable to recreate a body for himself and his weapon will revert back tomon adamantine: near-indestructible, but no longer impervious to damage.

    It was the old Merchants mark that had made the Demon Ancestors; henceforth the new one should unmake them. At least I hoped so.

    We could then purify the sword in a sanctuary, clean the mark, and eventually destroy the now breakable sword to exorcize Belgoroths soul for good, Selestine confirmed, albeit with a grim scowl. <em>If</em> King Rnd survives it.

    A tense silence followed. Most of us had already brushed with Belgoroths influence, whether by confronting his Blights or fighting him head-on in Walbourg. I would never forget that overwhelming evil radiating from his Berserk me. A mere sliver of the Lord of Wraths essence would drive anyone mad. Our sses had shielded our minds from his influence, but to hold the very core of his power might prove too much for them.

    I exchanged a nce with Rnd. Our Knight understood the risk all too well. After all, he had nearly fallen the same way Belgoroth did. Holding his foul sword might trigger his marks safeguards to prevent its corruption or worse.

    I didnt have my mark when I first saw the sword, Marika replied grimly. Even in its sealed state, it corrupted my lowlife husband into a monster and nearly threatened to drive me mad. To hold it at full power She shook her head. I do not think any normal human could resist it.

    Hence why I wished to interrogate the Fatebinder. She alone might reassure us.

    Would a Hero, Lady Alexios? I asked her. Would the Knights mark shield Rnd from the swords power?

    The Fatebinder pondered my question for a long, agonizing minute. I took the fact that she even hesitated as a frightful warning sign.

    I cannot say, she finally admitted.

    My jaw clenched on its own. Her answer disappointed us all, though none more than Colmar.

    You cannot say? my undead friend asked in disbelief. You are the Fatebinder. No one should know more about the marks than you do.

    This situation would be unprecedented, Lord Alchemist, Lady Alexios replied calmly. I suspect that if our ancient predecessors considered this option at all, they deemed the risk too great and elected to seal the Demon Ancestors instead.

    An option that weck now, Selestine muttered in disappointment. So we would take a gamble?

    I can attest to this: the new marks were designed to avoid corruption by their holder. Lady Alexios gave Rnds mark a sharp look. If our Lord Knight fails to resist the swords influence, then the ss will kill him and return to me.

    ire, who had listened in silence so far, finally rushed to Rnds defense. We cannot take that risk, she said sternly. Archfrost has no heir. If Rnd dies, it will spark another civil war.

    Therese and I have Rnd blushed brighter than a rose. We have taken the necessary steps to avoid that oue, with Colmars assistance.

    ires eyes widened in shock, as did mine.

    You ire stared at Rnd, her words dying in her throat. Is Therese

    Rnd let out a heavy breath. She is.

    I have already overseen artificial insemination on medically-impaired couples in the past, Colmar confirmed. The procedure worked as expected. The child should develop without anyplications.

    I dared not ask for medical details. Those didnt matter anyway. Rnd and Therese wouldnt love each other the way parents should, but I knew that they would shower their child with affection.

    You took a great burden for our country, I told Rnd. I sympathize.

    Archfrost needs an heir for its stability, Rnd replied with a grim scowl. Especially if I am to fall in battle.

    I prayed it wouldnte to that, but I anticipated casualties too. We would still have to confront Belgoroth in the field even if we didnt proceed with my scheme.

    Your n is full of holes, Waybright, Cortaner said, his voiceced with skepticism. First of all, we must y the Lord of Wrath, which will prove <em>exceedingly </em>difficult. Second, our Knight must hold the sword before its owner returns from the dead. Third, he must be in a state where he can consent to a trade with you. Fourth, <em>you </em>must also live long enough to agree to the trade.

    I agree it is by far our riskiest option, albeit the one with the highest rewards, I replied. We have considered other strategies to restrain Belgoroth, but I doubt any of them will contain him for long.

    The choice belongs to Rnd, Soraseo decided. What will you do?

    Rnd scowled in silence as all eyes turned in his direction. I had no doubt that he would take the risk for his homnds sake, the same way I was willing to fight against an enemy that trumped us all in strength and cruelty. However, he still harbored a doubt.

    Lady Alexios, if you will forgive me a question before I answer this one. Rnd faced the Fatebinder. Why <em>us</em>?

    Lady Alexios brow arched slightly.

    Why were we chosen? Rnd raised his hand and the mark glowing brightly on his skin; the holy symbol he nearly threatened to stain in an act of fury. The question has bothered me for a long time. Were we truly the best choices avable? Or people in the right ce at the right time?

    You were not chosen because you were the best, Lord Knight, the Fatebinder replied. You were chosen because you would fight for the dignity of the weak.

    <em>The dignity of the weak?</em> I nced at my own mark, as did a few of us. <em>How could my ss know that I would fight for that?</em>

    The Goddess once selected the worlds greatest merchant to receive her mark, the Fatebinder said. A girl whose wits and ambition allowed her to be Pangeals wealthiest woman. To her, every human interaction served to amass wealth in the service of a grander purpose, until humans became amodity like any other.

    Eris remained as stone-faced as an ancient mountain, her grip on her staff tightening.

    Belgoroth was the finest knight of his time, Lady Alexios continued. Valorous, honorable, righteous so righteous that his purity turned into intolerance. When reality failed to conform to his impossible ideals, he began to see faults in everything except himself.

    The Fatebinder looked at our reflection in the rooms mirror. What a disparate motley of Heroes we made. I have long wondered why the Goddess bestowed her marks on the Demon Ancestors. I would have expected maybe one of the seven to abuse their powers, but <em>all </em>of them? For a long time, I wondered if our creator acted out of malice. It was only when I became the Fatebinder that I understood the truth.

    Lady Alexios rose from her chair while we remained seated. Her shadow loomed over us, which I realized neatly illustrated her point.

    When you stand at the apex of the world, she said, You can only look <em>down </em>on others.

    Then it struck me. I nced at myrades. A woman cheated by her husband; an undead desperately trying to save lives after losing his own; a fallen princess and a bastard countess, both vassals to a contested prince forced to hide his true self from others sight; an inquisitor who had trapped himself in a shell of steel to atone for his sins; a Hero who had fallen, only to rise back from nothing; a clearly inhuman priestess persecuted for her beliefs and a would-be merchant who one day decided to fight the corruption he had been forced to partake in.

    The Goddess, while kind-hearted, stood as high above her creations as the clouds above the earth, Lady Alexios exined. She could not see the world through human eyes. This is the lesson the first Fatebinder kept in mind when she petitioned the Artifacts to create a new set of marks. The new Heroes would not stand <em>above </em>mankind. Instead, they would endure the same hardships as the people they were supposed to defend.

    Whether prince or pauper, we had all suffered the bitter string of <em>failure</em>. Of <em>powerlessness</em>.

    My mark hadnt chosen me because I would be the <em>best </em>Merchant, but because I would try to be the best <em>without </empromising my morals. The traits that made Belgoroth the ultimate <em>Knight </em>were what turned him into a terrible <em>Hero</em>.

    Rnds mark chose him for the same reason I trusted him to make peace with Walbourg: because it understood that his heart was in the right ce.

    Archfrosts future king rose up from his seat, lighter than before. This time, we all imitated him.

    Tomorrow will be a hard day, my friends, Rnd said, his voice brimming with determination. He had made his choice. We are to face a powerful enemy. Once the dust settles, we may not all live to see the sunrise.

    He drew his sword with a kings grace.

    But if you stand by my side, I know we can prevail, Rnd dered with resolve and confidence, his de raised to the ceiling. One way or another, this shall be our finest hour.

    Our marks considered us worthy.

    It was time for us to prove it to ourselves.

 Chapter Forty-Two: The Crown of Fire

    Chapter Forty-Two: The Crown of Fire

    Silence reigned in Whitethrones great cathedral.

    As a Hero, I entered its great walls as early as nine in the morning alongside most of my colleagues. The Fatebinder and the Priest led our procession, the former walking slightly ahead of thetter in the gilded robes of her esteemed office. Reformist and traditionalist-minded bishops alike followed behind them with gs representing the Artifacts. I could taste the tension between the two groups, though none of them acted upon it. I was not aware yet of the settlement the Fatefinder negotiated with her niece and the Reformists, but it seemed to have spared us a religious war for now.

    Thousands of onlookers had gathered outside the cathedral to witness the coronation. A dense perimeter of armed knights held the crowds back with spears and halberds, though a few managed to throw flowers at us nheless. Eris and I waved at these people with warm smiles. Colmar and Marika were too embarrassed to do the same, and Cortaner simply ignored the crowd.

    Most of us were too tired to fully enjoy the moment. We had spent the better part of yesterday andst night refining our tactics, crafting weapons, drafting contracts that would help us stave off injuries, and preparing for the fight ahead. We were as ready as we could be.

    I didnte empty-handed to the ceremony either. I carried a heavy golden scroll in my arms, one that would determine Archfrosts future.

    Our procession entered the cathedral at a steady pace. A massive hall of marble stone sprawled ahead of us under a hundred-foot-high ceiling held by crystal pirs. Two lines of gilded knights stood along the path to a gemstone altar and a pearly sarcophagus. Our group stood a stones throw away from its tform, while Lady Alexios and Selestine climbed up it.

    <em>Its bigger than Walbourgs cathedral, </em>I noted as I observed the location more closely.<em> A ce fit for kings.</em>

    My eyes lingered on the pearly tomb overseeing the hall. It shone brightly under the pale light of stained ss windows representing the Glorious Generation of Heroes who founded Archfrost. The Priest-King Chernov, Rnds ancestor and the man who started the current dynasty, rested inside. Four hundred tilts of marble paved the cathedrals floor, each housing a legendary knight of Chernovs army. Father used to tell me that they would rise from the dead in Archfrosts darkest hour to defend the realm.

    What would it take to wake them up from their nap?

    Do you think we will have time for a dance after this, Robin? Eris whispered in my ear. Not even a coronation could silence the chatterbox. My feet are getting restless.

    I doubt that, I whispered back. Rnd intended for us to fly straight north within an hour of the ceremonys conclusion. Will people raise a cathedral for us after we die?

    For you, handsome? She put a finger on her lips. I suspect your followers would open a museum and extract a toll on visitors instead.

    How appropriate for a Merchant. The idea brought a smile to my face.

    My good moodsted until a set of four bishops entered the hall, each of them wielding a different symbol of the four Artifacts: a wand, a cup, a golden cointhankfully not the devilish kindand a sword. They carried the royal familys regalia on a crimson cushion: a circled crown of silver topped by four horns of enchanted ice, at the center of which shone a radiant sapphire; and a sword of reinforced goldced with adamantine. Both were breathtaking pieces of craftsmanship, but the sight of the former filled my heart with unease.

    I need to talk with you after this, I whispered to Eris.

    My solemn tone caused Eris to raise an eyebrow, but she assented to my request without objection. Whenever you want, handsome.

    Thank you, I replied before shutting my mouth.

    The four bishops put the regalia on the altar and then walked away from it. A procession of dignitaries entered the hall afterward. Duchess Griselda and the Walbourg delegation walked side by side with Duke Sigismund, the lords of Archfrost, and foreign ambassadors from all across Pangeal. Representatives hade all the way from Irem and the Stonnds to witness Rnds coronation, though none had shown up on behalf of Soraseos homnd; which was probably for the best.

    I held my breath as the king and queen finally made their entrance.

    Rnd and Thereses carriage stopped short of the cathedrals doors. They walked together side by side under the watch of elite knights. Both were breathtaking to look upon. Rnd arrived in the Priest-Kings gilded ceremonial armor while his future queen wore a white satin dress embroidered in silver threads. Both carried a mantle of blue velvet lined with ermine and adorned with the icy crown heraldry of Archfrost. Soraseo helped Rnd carry his own mantle, while ire did the same for Thereses.

    Orchestras, chorus, and military drummers yed a strangely harmonious blend of religious songs and war marches as the royal couple and their <em>handmaidens </em>walked across the hall. They stopped in front of the altar and knelt as the Fatebinder and the Priest recited prayers in Old Erebian. They called upon the Goddess to guide the couple and for the Artifacts to safeguard Archfrost. I had never been a religious person, so I mostly listened to the music in respectful silence without paying too much attention to the words.

    Once the litany wasplete, the Fatebinder and the Priest proceeded to anoint the ruling couple one after the other. Lady Alexios painted the golden symbol of the four Artifacts on Rnds face and then Thereses, whereas Selestine inscribed the silver heraldry of Archfrost itself. Id heard it was rare for a suzerains wife to be honored alongside her husband, but Rnd insisted that Therese be treated as his equal. I supposed he sought to make people forget her foreign origins.

    Once both rulers were duly anointed, Lady Alexios and Selestine individually blessed the kings regalia. The background song ended right as the Fatebinder took the crown of Archfrost into her hands.

    Rnd Chernov of Archfrost, she said, her sharp voice cutting through the heavy silence of the hall. Do you solemnly swear to rule justly? Do you swear to protect the weak, to defend yournd from evil, and to cherish its people as if they were your own children?

    I solemnly swear, Rnd replied with kingly dignity.

    Then the Goddess shall bestow upon you a crown of glory and righteousness, as she blessed the Priest-King before you and shall bless the ones that shalle after you. The Fatebinder raised the crown until it shone brightly under the light of burning braceros. May the Artifacts confirm you in your throne and bless yournd with eternal felicity.

    Everyone held their breath as Lady Alexios deposed the Crown of Archfrost on Rnds head. None tensed up more than I. I half-expected the Knots to strike, or for a demon to appear out of nowhere to ruin the moment.

    Evil did not triumph today.

    The crown sat upon Rnds head and fit him perfectly. Heavy was our Knights gaze, but solemn and determined too. Selestine offered him the golden sword next, which he weed with a thankful nod and steely resolve. When he rose to his feet, he truly looked like a Hero of legends reborn.

    His uncle Sigismund next presented him with a smaller diadem fit for a queen. Rnd took it, then crowned Therese himself. I had never seen her look so radiant or smile so blissfully until today. She had waited a lifetime for a throne and apanion who would respect her as his equal, and though Rnd might never love her the way I had loved Mersie, he helped her rise nheless.

    This would usually mark the end of the ceremony, but I still had a role to y.

    Lord Waybright, Duchess Griselda, Rnd beckoned us. Come forward.

    I stepped towards the king alongside Duchess Griselda. She had had the good sense of dressing modestly today so as not to overshadow Therese and arrived with a silver quill in her hands. We both knelt in front of the ruling couple and presented them with our gifts.

    Rnd and Therese both put a hand on my golden scroll and raised the other. They gathered their breaths, then uttered as one the oath that we had rehearsed together.

    We hereby swear to maintain the integrity of the United Kingdom of Archfrost and its territories, the king and queen dered, both to the assembly and to the world itself, to respect the Arcane Abbey, to enforce the freedom of religion, to guarantee the equality of rights of all of our citizens before the scales of justice; to maintain peace within our borders; to not raise taxes except with the agreement of our institutions; and to protect our subjects from those who would seek them harm. We swear to abide by the rule ofw and to govern in the sole interest of Archfrost and its people.

    This text was the result of a thousandpromises. A promise to both honor the Arcane Abbey and yet allow for Reformists to practice within Archfrosts borders, to maintain the social order while givingmoners a chance to gain more rights, and to enforce peace with Walbourg through mutual concessions.

    However, an oath was only as strong as the paper on which it was printed on. I unfolded the scroll and pointed at a nk space next to my own signature. The ruling couple proceeded to sign with Griseldas enchanted silver quill, before the Duchess herself imitated them on behalf of her duchy.

    My mark burned beneath my gloves. So powerful was its light that it shone through the leather. My ss validated the trade of the century.

    I purchased the right of the monarchy to wage war upon Walbourg and its other territories, as I purchased their ability to fight the monarchy through force of arms. I undid institutionsw byw, privilege by privilege, shuffled them, rebuilt them, and perfected them.

    In one stroke of a quill, my social contract put an end to Archfrosts bloody scars and opened the path forward to a peaceful future.

    When at longst the light in my palm died down, the royal heralds sounded their trumpets. All hail King Rnd of Archfrost and his queen! They sang. Long live the king! Long live the queen!

    Only then did we acim them with thunderous apuse. Everyone stood up and pped not only for the new king and queen, but for a new era of peace and prosperity for Archfrost. Rnd saluted the dignitaries by raising his golden sword while his queen smiled warmly at ire and the others.

    I exchanged a nce with Eris, who swiftly teleported away. I pulled out a small draft of paper from under my cloak the moment she vanished.

    Your Majesty, I said while presenting him with the document. Would you kindly sell me your Blights before greeting your loyal subjects?

    With pleasure, my friend. Rnd signed the document with a stroke of the silver quill. I pray that you find yourself happy with your purchase.

    Rnds signature carried more than its weight in ink. The collective will of all of Archfrost backed my proposal to buy all of Archfrosts Blightsfrom the one in Snowdrift to the curse created in our attempt to retake the capits a package deal with a piece ofnd which would serve as their tomb.

    I remembered the first time I brought a disease from Count Brynslow and sealed it in a coin. Blights were no different than gues in the end, only mightier and more destructive. Much like a sick man could sell the infection guing his flesh, the new king of Archfrost sessfully sold me the evil haunting hisnds.

    To my delight, my power validated the trade. I sensed it in my bones and in the very air. A bright light glowed through the stained ss windows, right from the direction where Colmar had entombed his holy runestones. I detected a faraway stream of essence so strong that my magical sight could pick on it from leagues away.

    I sensed no hostility from the light. No wrath nor grief.

    Rnd and Therese exited the cathedral first. Their citizens acimed them with such cheers and loud chants that I could hardly hear anything. The king and queen returned the greetings with waves of their hands and warm smiles.

    I walked after them alongside the other Heroes, though I focused on the horizon rather than on the crowd of onlookers. A pir of golden essence arose from the countryside behind the cathedral and pierced the heavens above. Archfrosts citizens had seen a golden dawn grace their country right as the new king and queen exited the cathedral. I assumed many would take it for a miracle.

    And a miracle it was. Streaks of crimson corruptionthe remains of Belgoroths Berserk mehardly managed to survive a few instants before the golden light purified them. It wasnt just Colmars runestones that purged the Blights, no. The hopes of Archfrost had gathered to purge the Lord of Wraths grim legacy off thend.

    This pir was more than light. It was all of my work in Snowdrift and my allies efforts to broker peace made manifest. Selestine had joined her hands in prayer at the sight, as did Cortaner. ire, Marika, and Soraseo smiled at the miracle with hearts full of pride. Even Colmar appeared touched.

    <em>Its gone. Snowdrifts Blight is gone.</em> I had a hard time believing in my own eyes. <em>All that work finally paid off.</em>

    It felt good to make a difference.

    Eris finally returned to us in a cloud of white smoke. Our new king swore a kinder oath than Bels, she whispered in my ear. He will have an easier time keeping it.

    And unlike Belgoroth, Rnd will fulfill its spirit over its letter, I replied with confidence. I nced at my fellow Heroes as we regrouped. Quite the light show, dont you think?

    Did our n work? Colmar asked with some hesitation. He feared failure more than anything.

    I wouldnt say it worked. Eris teased me. I would qualify this trade as aplete and utter sess. We cleaned the Blights in one stroke.

    Many breathed in relief, though none louder than Marika. So its over, she said. Its finally over.

    Colmar shook his head. The Blights are only a symptom. The disease remains.

    And the true enemy quickly reminded us of his presence.

    A surge of malevolent essence erupted in the northeast, so powerful that Arcadian witchcrafters probably picked up on it from a country away. A foul sensation of blood filling my mouth washed over me alongside the nauseous smell of charred flesh. The pulsested less than an instant, yet the crowd around the cathedral grew quieter. Even people with no essence training had noticed it.

    I looked at Rnd, who now held his golden sword with his two hands rather than one. The Knights mark burned like the heart of the sun under his metallic gauntlet. Its heat caused the metal to let out a whiff of steam.

    Hes out, I whispered under my breath. Hes <em>out</em>.

    This tale has been uwfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Then we must leave <em>now</em>, Cortaner said sharply.

    Lady Alexios exited the cathedral with a deep scowl on her face. The seal is broken, she confirmed, her words heavier than stones. The Lord of Wrathes for us.

    I looked at my allies, all of them brimming with determination; though none more than Rnd, who nodded at me with his golden sword in hand.

    Lets go, everyone, I said. It is time to save the world.

    I had always wanted to say that, and yet prayed that this moment would nevere.

    As Rnd warned us earlier, this would be a hard day.

    The <em>Verni </em>left the capital in an hours time and soared straight for Stonegarde.

    ire and Silverine scouted ahead of our airship, with Rnd and Soraseo following her on the back of trained wyverns. A few of Vernis old subordinates had been kind enough to sell me their riding skills and mounts in exchange for a cushy retirement and the promise we would avenge their fallen captain; assets which I quickly transferred to our Knight and Monk. Their expertise paled before the power granted by ires, but they should help support her in aerial battle. I had also taken additional measures to protect the mounts and riders from Belgoroths essence-induced fury. Time would tell if they worked.

    <em>Its not just mounted mastery,</em> I noted as I observed ire gracefully riding on her pegasus from our airships deck. I had flown on Silverines back often enough to detect a noticeable increase in speed and agility. <em>The Cavalier ss also empowers the mount.</em>

    I wondered if it would work on the <em>Verni </em>too. The Cavalier should be limited to riding animals and other monsters, but our sses often behaved in unexpected ways.

    The rest of our troop would remain on the <em>Verni</em>. Marika piloted the ship, while I had posted Selestine and Eris on the deck to throw fireballs at any potential attackers. Cortaners armor unfortunately made him too heavy for any flying mount to carry effectively, but his knowledge of Iremian rune cannons meant he could support me and Colmar with the artillery.

    Lady Alexios alone remained in the capital. We couldnt afford to risk the Fatebinders life. If we failed to stop Belgoroth, she promised to release our marks back into the world as soon as possible. Perhaps our sessors might be able to stop the Lord of Wrath before he could ravage Archfrost, though I had my doubts.

    Belgoroth would murder thousands if we failed today.

    Its quite the beautiful view from so high above, Eris told me as we looked at the sky from the <em>Verni</em>s deck. I will never grow weary of it.

    I enjoy it very much too, I confessed. Now that Ive sold my fear of heights at least.

    You tell me, handsome. Can you believe that I was afraid of drowning once? I had an awful time finding a buyer willing to take that one. Eris smiled at me. What did you want to discuss back at the cathedral?

    We think that Daltia wants to create an Artifact of her own, I told Eris. I was loath to discuss the subject ahead of a major battle, but there would never be a perfect time for it. A crown of human souls.

    It hardly seemed to surprise her. Eris looked at the horizon, her smile fading away.

    Once, in and far far away, a woman dreamed of peace and prosperity, she said with a voice brimming with sorrow. Until she came to the startling realization that the selfish desires of mortals would forever conflict with those of others. A gaping hole called greed lurks in the heart of men andpels them to forever seek more than they already have. But no matter how much they try to fill it, that pit is truly bottomless.

    All of the worlds wealth cant change human nature, I replied.

    Hence why I sought to reshape it, Eris confessed. I suppose that is what my other self is trying to aplish. She wants to fulfill her greed by owning the very soul of mankind. I am sure that in her mind, she is fulfilling peoples desires. She seeks to create the paradise that the Goddess promised us.

    One under her control. I trusted that power to no man, let alone a demonic embodiment of greed and unfulfilled desire. How long would it take for her toplete her crown?

    I do not know, Robin. Eris hands gripped her scepter with all of her strength. I hope to gather all the Devil Coins beforehand.

    I could help with that, I proposed.

    You want us to travel together, enjoying merry adventures while we try to collect the coins that make up my broken heart? Eris hid a chuckle with her hand. Wouldnt that be romantic?

    I smiled at her. I would like that, Eris.

    She looked at me without a word, her eyes studying my expression. Did she doubt my resolve? Or was she afraid of it?

    After we are done with Belgoroth, and if we all live through it, I said, knowing that it would be a very big <em>if</em>. I would like to build a business, see the world, and help you collect the Devil Coins. Wherever problems arise and evil festers, the Knots are never too far away. I could kill two birds with one stone. Spread the wealth around and drain Daltia of her own.

    You know that a honeymoon usuallyes <em>after </em>marriage, right? Eris winked at me. She always did that when she wanted to lighten the mood. Am I so irresistible to you?

    I chuckled. Yes, you are.

    You are too kind, Robin, but you dont know what you ask for. Eris expression turned solemn. Things wont end well between us. You know that.

    I dont, I replied. And neither do you.

    You are too naive, Robin. She let out a heavy sigh. I am not expecting a warm wee when the Goddess returns. After all I have done, the rivers of blood Ive shed, the shallow graves Ive filled Stories like mine dont have happy endings.

    Then why do you seek one so fervently? I countered.

    Eris looked away at the rising sun, her hair flowing in the wind. Because once the Goddesses to punish me, I want to say that I did my best to make up for what I did.

    Thats the thing, I replied. The oue of your quest is the domain of fate. I say you should strive for the best. I say theres hope for you, but you wont be able to seize it unless youmit to it.

    My Goddess, are you trying to sell me a happy ending? Eris raised an eyebrow at me, the light in her eye slightly rekindled. I had that go-for-broke mindset in my youth too. I wonder when age will temper yours.

    Someone told me once that the secret of sess is to go from trial to trial without losing enthusiasm, I replied with a chuckle. I wont give up on you until the verdictes, Eris.

    You will be the death of me. Eris bit her lower lip for a brief instant. I cannot answer you now, Robin.

    I didnt expect you to, I replied warmly. Take however long you want. I will be happy with whatever you decide.

    I swear I will give it genuine thought. Eris gave me the most bashful of smiles; and it was all the sweetest in its sincerity. Thank you, handsome. Your words mean more than you think to me.

    I quickly kissed her on the cheek and then left her on the deck. I descended alone into the depths of the <em>Verni</em> to take my post in the artillery room. Colmar and Cortaner were already hard at work there.

    Is this ship alive, Robin? Colmar asked me while he loaded the rune cannons. He had reced one of his hands with a metal gauntlet; holding a very special trick which I hoped would prove decisive in the battle toe. Weck a crew yet it moves on its own anyway.

    I <em>wished </em>it was alive! Iined as I moved to assist him. My powers restrictions prevented me from giving an object its own soul. However, I have discovered that if I buy someones ability to move a certain way and then imbue it in an item designed for the same, then it automatically repeats the same movement.

    Fascinating. Colmar studied a pipe carrying steam through the ship. Did you teach an oven how to fill itself? How did you achieve this? None of the clothes you imbued with knowledge in Snowdrift could move on its own.

    I suppressed a chuckle at the irony of Colmar, a ghost-powered suit,ining about inanimate clothes.

    Thats because I imbued clothes with <em>knowledge</em>, not <em>ability</em>, I exined. The airshipcks the intelligence required to truly act autonomously or repair itself, but it can function without a crew so long as we have a captain steering the wheel to give it direction.

    How did you find people willing to sell you their ability to move? Cortaner asked suspiciously. Anyone doing it should have dropped dead on the spot.

    The key was to ask for extremely specific abilities, I exined. Being capable of curling up and rolling on the ground isnt too useful for most people and its loss doesnt impair them in their daily lives, but if I imbue it in a gear mechanism, then it can rotate on its own.

    I see. Cortaner crossed his arms. He seemed thoughtful all of a sudden. Could this mechanism work without a runestone to power it?

    Im not sure. The airship does require arge amount of them to work. I raised an eyebrow at the Inquisitor. Why that question?

    Cortaner focused back on the rune cannons. You should travel to Irem someday.

    I was about to push him for details when Marikas voice came out of the soundstone-speakers. <em>Everyone, were approaching Stonegarde,</em> she warned us. <em>Do you all have your jumping bags?</em>

    We do, I confirmed. Each of us passengers carried a silk bag on our back, tied by three strong ropes to our shoulders and chest. I recognized it as an advanced version of the prototype Marika and Mr. Fronan developed back in Walbourg.

    <em>If we are ever thrown overboard for any reason, position yourself with the bag turned to the sky and then pull the central rope,</em> Marika said.<em> I insist: bag pointing up, chest pointing down, pull the rope as soon as you can.</em>

    Yes, captain, I replied. Augh answered me through the loudspeakers.

    I took a moment off the artillery loading to look through the portholes at the world below. We had flown past Snowdrift a while ago and now approached the northern mountains. Tall peaks of ck stone and white snow arose like jagged teeth piercing the horizon. From so high above, I caught a glimpse of the northernnds beyond; windswept ins of endless ice, frozen rivers, and ancient forests where the beastmen struggled to survive.

    The fortress of Stonegarde stood as the border between ournds and their own. The great castle upied the only practical pass between the mountains, its two great watchtowers standing shoulder to shoulder with the lowest peaks. A great ck bridge joined them together by arching over a colossal gate of reinforced steel; one tall enough to let a giant through, yet too narrow for more than four riders to ride across. This mighty defense marked the end of Archfrost and its best line of defense against northern invasions.

    Two worldsy on each side of this metal fence, and both had gathered their troops. Archfrosts royal armies had established a well-ordered camp in Stonegardes shadow,pact and defensible, with deep ditches and rows of identical tents. Their battle standards fluttered in the summer wind.

    The beastmen forces on the other side couldnt be any more different. Id heard a general called Zharkov led them on behalf of the Knots, but none of what I saw screamed organization. A sea of disparate skin and wool tents, wooden carts, and wagons covered a in of ice like a spill of oil on water. Hundreds, if not thousands of cookfires breathed columns of smoke along the mountain pass.

    We were too far away for me to catch a glimpse of its upants, but I did notice the presence of mammoths and stusk mounts. I expected a motley of boarkin, tuskmen, and waterkin like those we fought near the capital, and other werewolves to be among their numbers.

    What an awful sight, Colmarmented as he looked through the window. Ice as far as the eye can see.

    <em>No wonder the beastmen want to conquer the south.</em> I already knew the north was a harshndscape, but seeing stretches of barren snowfields from above truly put the tales into perspective. <em>They have no future here.</em>

    The beastmen of thesends used to belong to the Demon Ancestors army and were pushed back north after they lost the war. I had never truly questioned that version of the story until Colmar informed me of his peoples origins. I assumed a few beastmen willingly threw their lot with the Demon Ancestorsmany humans didbut I wondered how many of these soldiers ancestors had no choice but to fight under the Beast of Sloths orders. Their alliance with Belgoroth sounded like a final call of desperation.

    I hoped to find a way to broker peace between my people and the beastmen. No one deserved to suffer in the cold like this, and especially not for the crimes of their ancestors. I suspected more than a few tribes would be willing to make peace with Archfrost in exchange for settling south. Maybe Selestine could help with that. The Artifacts might improve the northernnds climate if we voiced the request properly.

    That was a problem for another time, however. The beastman army would try to invade as soon as Belgoroth arrived to reinforce them. Their forces would pour through the pass to devastate Archfrost and tear it asunder. Snowdrifts proximity to the fortress meant that it would be the first city to fall.

    I couldnt let its people suffer another war; not after we freed them from the Blight that threatened to engulf them.

    <em>Robin,</em> Marikas voice resonated from the soundstones. <em>Im sure Im just imagining things, but didnt you mention a dragon was near the Deadgate once?</em>

    A <em>dead </em>dragon, I replied. The Glorious Generation slew the great wyrm Xernobog at the City of Wrath and entombed his remains there. His demise is what opened the Deadgate in the first ce.

    Marika marked a short pause. <em>I see</em>

    Cortaner turned his head at the soundstone speaker. What bothers you, Lunastello?

    <em>Its a silly thought, but if Belgoroth has the Cavaliers power, and it lets him ride any creature</em> I audibly heard Marika clear her throat on her end of the line. <em>Does the mount have to be </em>alive<em>?</em>

    I froze in ce and quickly exchanged a nce with Cortaner and Colmar. The silence stretching between us immediately told me that none of us had entertained the possibility.

    A terrible roar answered Marikas question.

    A rumbling noise stronger than any explosion resonated across the mountains, starting avnches and rockslides. A noxious aura of suffocating evil and bloodthirst fell upon thend. A searing wind followed, so hot that I felt its warmth even inside the protective hull of the <em>Verni</em>.

    A great cloud of smoke descended upon the mountains from the north, staining the pristine blue sky with the red texture of fresh blood. I blinked upon seeing the hint of great wings longer than any ship and then froze upon realizing my mistake.

    That was no cloud, but a burning ghost flying above thend of the living.

    The sheer size of the beastover three hundred feet in lengthstruck me with fear. Its wingspan cast a dark shadow on the beastmen below. The beast might have looked like a noble lizard with wings once, but centuries of decay and the mes consuming it from within had reduced it to an unholy husk.

    A ruddy glow emanated from its remaining ck scales likeva cooling between cracked stones. An unsettling yellow glow shimmered from its charred bones. The Berserk me flowed through the monsters dried veins, animating its wed limbs, moving its wings, fueling its breath. The monster reared its immense head at thend below, revealing a maw of fangs taller than spears and a gullet of volcanic fire.

    Yet however mighty it may be, that creature was a mere puppet. I detected no intelligence in the smoking holes that used to be its eyes.

    Its master rode on its back, right between the wings.

    His charred armor of tarnished gold had turned pitch ck. Sick yellow fire burst out of the chinks, the gauntlets, the slits in the helmet, and all the other tiny openings in his shell of metal. A cloak of searing smoke fluttered from his shoulders like the fiery tail of a zinget. I caught a glimpse of a greatsword too heavy for any man to carry attached to the knights back, and a lion-faced helmet whose eyes burned with the eldritch glow of the Berserk me. The familiar feeling that let me identify a Hero red in the back of my skull, raw and sharp.

    The burning knight raised his left hand upward to the sky in a silent challenge. A sword mark burned on the back of his metal gauntlet with all of his endless fury and hatred.

    Belgoroth announced his return with a rain of fire.

    His dragon vomited a sea of light onto thend below; not the golden light of hope that we had unveiled to Archfrost, but a stream of Berserk me hotter than magma. The fire descended upon the center of the beastman army like divine judgment. Tents turned to ash in an instant; the mes swallowed thousands. An unstoppable tide of burning essence consumed the invaders who thought the Lord of Wrath would lead them to victory. Plumes of smoke filled the horizon.

    My allies and I watched the scene through the porthole in stunned silence, utterly horrified by the devastation. So terrible was the ughter that faces appeared in the storm of ashes. The screams of the dead announced the iing birth of a new Blight.

    <em>Hes firing at his own troops!</em> Marika shouted through the loudspeakers, her voice brimming with both fear and outrage. Colmar and I were too horrified to say anything.

    The Lord of Wrath is on no side but his own, Cortaner replied grimly. He alone didnt sound surprised. He does not need an army.

    It didnt take me long to understand what he meant. The undead dragon did not stop its onught at the beastmen. It continued to vomit fire on Stonegarde and blew it up in a single salvo. The stone shattered, the steel gates melted into a puddle of metal, and the thousand lives manning the citadel went up in smoke.

    The knights of Archfrost dispersed in panic when the sea of mes fell upon their camp next. The inferno incinerated their horses and fortifications in an instant. When the dragon finished exhaling its breath of ruin, a chasm of fire and ashes split the northern mountains in half. Stonegarde had be a charred crater and the mes scattered yesterdays enemies across thend.

    This was the power of the first Heroes; the might that the Knight ss once held before the Fatebinder wisely fractured it. The ability to kill thousands in the blink of an eye.

    We had all miscalcted. Rnd, the Knots, myself we had all expected Belgoroth to lead the army his cultists and allies worked so hard to gather. We thought he would lead the beastmen to battle, break through Stonegarde, and then wage war upon Archfrost like any conventional warlord. It would have <em>made sense</em>.

    But when I recalled how Belgoroth behaved back in Walbourg, abandoning his allies to die and ignoring us Heroes to focus on taking as many lives as possible, it urred to me that the Lord of Wrath was <em>not </em>a rational general. He was a berserker who held <em>both </em>his foes and enablers in contempt. He required no army to fight by his side, and rewarded defiance and subservience with the same bitter reward.

    <em>Death</em>.

    Hes going to incinerate all of Archfrost I muttered in horror. Hell burn thend from above and salt the earth with Blights, one city at a time

    How long would it take for Belgoroth to reach Snowdrift? Hours? In a days time he would have set thend aze from the mountains to the capital. In a weeks time, the western side of the continent would be a sea of fire.

    He wouldnt stop there. He would keep flying and burning everything in his path until he had scorched the worlds surface to cinders.

    <em>Not today. </em>I clenched my fists and found my resolve. <em>Not today.</em>

    Rnd charged first into battle, roaring with his lightning spear in his hands as he ordered his wyvern to fly forward. ire and Soraseo fearlessly followed after him. Inparison to Belgoroths dragon mount, our allies looked like sparrows challenging an eagle to battle.

    But challenge him they did.

    <em>Were engaging him! </em>Marika shouted through the soundstone-speakers.<em> Prepare to fire!</em>

    She didnt need to ask us twice.

    I moved behind a runestone cannon right as Marika veered the Verni to the right. The hull quickly opened. The sudden burst of wind nearly threatened to send me overboard, but Colmar quickly helped me hang onto the fixed artillery.

    The wooden panels that separated us from the world outside slide aside. I found myself facing Belgoroths dragon as he flew straight at us, closing half a league in a minutes time. The p of its immense wings whipped up a storm of dust underneath. I sensed Belgoroths bloodthirsty re on us through the wall of rising smoke.

    One way or another, one side wouldnt escape this fight alive.

    Our cannons thundered and fired the first salvo.

 Chapter Forty-Three: The Leap of Faith

    Chapter Forty-Three: The Leap of Faith

    An unstoppable force hit an immovable object.

    An ancient dragons scales were said to be thicker than a castles walls and stronger than steel; whereas tales of the rune cannons power to destroy fortresses in a single salvo had spread far and wide. When our artillery vomited forth a burst of essence and adamantine cannonballs at Belgoroths gigantic warbeast, I briefly wondered which of the two would prevail.

    As it turned out, cannons beat dragons.

    Colmars handmade projectiles punched through the dragons chest like quarrels through chainmail, shattering thick scales and causing a flow of burning magma-like blood to pour from its wounds. The undead beast no longer felt pain, but the recoil from the blow was enough to cause it to briefly halt it mid-flight.

    I loved it when wise investments paid dividends.

    My joysted until the dragon opened its mouth at us. The light building up inside its gullet burned brighter than the sun.

    <em>Hang on!</em> Marika shouted through the soundstone-speakers.<em> Its going to shake a little!</em>

    The airship veered to the side so suddenly that I was nearly thrown overboard through the gap in the wooden panels separating our cannons from the open sky outside. Cortaner grabbed my arm before I could fall off while Colmar hung onto one of the cannons. The dragon unleashed its breath of me at us right as the <em>Verni</em> turned to dodge its onught. A torrent of Berserk mes erupted from the beasts maw, setting the sky aze and dissipating the clouds.

    The st narrowly missed the airships nk by arge margin, but I could feel its searing heat from a distance. A wave of burning gas and hot air hit us with enough force to split trees in half. Had Cortaner not held me, I would have been ttened against the back of the artillery room by the blowback.

    Belgoroths dragon and the <em>Verni </em>passed by each other like two birds narrowly avoiding a collision. I caught a glimpse of the Lord of Wrath riding atop his mount, weathering a volley of fireballs thrown by our witchcrafters from the deck above. The projectiles missed him by an inch before his warbeasts wings whipped up a storm of dust at us. A cloud of smoke and cursed essence entered the artillery room through its openings, filling my lungs with a rancid stench of burning corpses and gunpowder. The very essence of anger and malevolence washed over me like a tide of tar.

    I barely caught a glimpse of the battle through the tide of smoke. We passed by the dragon, our airship moving northeast and Belgoroth to the southwest towards the direction of Snowdrift. Rnd, Soraseo, and ire pursued the dragon on their own mounts while our group drifted further away.

    <em>This is Walbourg all over again</em>, I realized when Belgoroth refused to turn back and fight us. He had also prioritized targeting poption centers over engaging us back then. <em>Hes going straight to the closest city.</em>

    Namely, <em>Snowdrift</em>.

    We couldnt let him reach it.

    <em>Is everyone alright?!</em> Marika shouted from the soundstone-speakers.

    I opened my mouth to answer and only seeded in coughing smoke. The outside wind carried the smoke away from the artillery room, but Belgoroths cursed essence within it hadtched onto the ship. The metal walls began to twist into the shape of screaming skulls, their empty eyes burning with the Berserk me.

    Waybright, Colmar, you take over the cannons while I clean this up! Cortaner ordered with the experience and authority of a hardenedmander. Target the wings and send that dragon crashing down to earth!

    Cortaner let go of my hand and immediately moved closer to the Blights manifestations. Putting his left palm against the Berserk me and pointing outside the artillery room with his right finger, he began to siphon the cursed essence and propel it outside the airship in a diluted stream.

    I knew it was an extremely risky maneuver. Essence needed physical matter totch onto, so releasing it into the wind would cause Belgoroths curse to dilute and dissipate. However, Cortaner forced it to travel through his body to redirect it. He would have turned into a monster on the spot without his Inquisitors mark. Even now his armors steel shifted like a molten sea under the strain of Belgoroths corruption. His pain must have been unbearable.

    If Cortaner would bear such an agony for victory, then I had no excuse to ck off.

    Powering through the pain in my burned lungs and the foul essence permeating the artillery room, I immediately moved to help Colmar refuel the rune cannons. Thankfully, the refined runestones powering the weapons withstood Belgoroths curse. I had feared the corrupt essence would have ignited them.

    Such suffocating anger, Colmarmented. It is like breathing blood

    I fed these mes once, Cortaner replied, a hint of shame in his deep and guttural voice. They burn brighter than ever.

    <em>They do</em>, I thought. The smoke in the air carried the grudges of the departed and the anger of those who remained. Archfrosts civil war had contributed to Belgoroths escape as much as any other conflict. <em>Weve all fueled that pyre.</em>

    <em>Im going after him! </em>Marika shouted, the airship veering to the right and turning around as she spoke. <em>Prepare to fire again as soon as we get in range!</em>

    We may not survive a second volley, Colmar warned us. We must hit true.

    I agreed with a nod. A direct hit from the dragons breath would blow our airship out of the sky, and an indirect one risked turning it into a small Blight. Either oue would be fatal.

    The<em> Verni</em> made a wide circle in the sky. We flew above the burning canyon and the smoking ruins left behind by Belgoroths bombardment, which let me witness first-hand the devastation that would befall my homnd if we failed to stop him: a scorched sea of fire and ashes engulfing all in its path.

    The sight made me sick, and Colmar didnt look any better. Is that what Florence wanted to see? he muttered to himself. No one will survive <em>this</em>.

    Afterpleting its turn, the <em>Verni </em>pursued Belgoroths dragon with all the speed its sails and runestones engines afforded it. I heard detonations resonate in the distance far away. We had equipped ire and the others with spears packed with explosives and bottles of Colmars hardening solution. I assumed theyd started using them.

    I took a peek through the nearest porthole to get a better view of the battlefield. The <em>Verni </em>pursued Belgoroths dragon across the Archfrostian skies, and we slowly caught up to the Lord of Wrath in spite of his head start. Our Knight and his Vassals harassed him by flying in an organized formation, closing in to throw projectiles, and then retreating in short order. ire and Soraseo fared better at it than Rnd; the former because Silverine moved quicker than the wyverns and thus had a better time slipping past Belgoroths guard, and thetter because of her enhanced aim.

    They proved themselves to be such a nuisance that the dragon interrupted its scorching campaign to target them with its breath. The beast roared at the clouds and set them aze. A trail of mes tainted the heavens red likeets coursing through the ck night.

    How could such a terrifying sight be so beautiful to look at?

    Cortaner managed to extinguish the Berserk mes threatening to engulf the artillery room, through its walls still kept the shape of screaming skulls. This should be enough for now, he said as he returned to his old post. But if we get too close, the ship will start turning on us.

    Neither can Rnd and the others stop Belgoroth, I noted as I observed the battle from afar, much to my dismay. Our allies targeted the dragon with explosive spears, but theycked the power to inflict meaningful damage against the beasts scales. They might as well be mosquitos harassing a cow: annoying, but harmless. Well catch up in a minute.

    My allies and I took position behind the cannons and waited for Marikas signal. The <em>Verni </em>gained groundso to speakon Belgoroths dragon and moved to its left. The undead monster reared its ugly head at us with light swelling in its gullet. The wounds on its chest hardly seemed to slow it down.

    <em>Ready?! </em>Marika shouted through the soundstone-speakers. <em>Fire!</em>

    Selestine and Eris unleashed lightning bolts from the upper deck at the same time as our cannons unleashed an adamantine volley. The dragon dived lower in a swift and unnatural motion, its body tilting a quarter of a clock to the right. Our projectiles flew right between the gaps between its wings and shoulders in spite of its immense size.

    The dragon unleashed a stream of mes at the airships bow and hit it with tremendous force. The entire <em>Verni </em>trembled so much I hung to my cannon with all of my strength. A cloud of smoke erupted from the bow, obscuring our sight.

    I barely managed to catch a glimpse of ire and Silverine breaking formation to strike at the dragons throat. Theyunched explosive spears at its gullet, and while the detonation hardly managed to crack the beasts scales, it threw the monsters aim off and its fiery breath missed us before it could finish consuming our airship.

    <em>Marika?! </em>I shouted at the speakers, but to my horror I only heard the screech of broken metal in response. <em>Marika!</em>

    Focus and keep shooting! Cortaner snarled. Before he kills us all!

    Our remaining cannons unleashed a second volley, but the undead dragon contorted at thest second. Its back bent in a way that let it dodge the projectiles it could avoid, and its tail intercepted those it couldnt with a wide sweep. The Lord of Wrath rode unharmed, his burning gaze staring straight ahead.

    Curses, Belgoroth was using Soraseos power to predict our shots!

    The <em>Verni </em>put some distance between the dragon and itself, with Marikas voiceing out of the speakers. <em>Robin?</em> she called out my name. <em>Everyone, can you hear me?</em>

    We can! I replied. Hearing her voice alone lifted a weight off my shoulders. Are you unharmed?

    <em>Im fine, but I cant see much! </em>Marika replied. <em>The smoke obscures my view!</em>

    Unfortunately, that was the least of our problems. Belgoroths evil rippled through the smoke andtched onto the airships hull. Murderers des grew out of the wood below the bow like a great sharks fangs. The steam bursting through the pipes gained the rancid, yellow texture of sulfur. I heard the echo of distant screams and whispers of the departed in the back of my mind.

    The <em>Verni </em>was turning into a haunted airship.

    Eris teleported into the artillery room in a cloud of white smoke, her hands clutching her staff dearly. A few of its runestones had lost their luster. She must have spent them firing projectiles at Belgoroth himself.

    I have bad news, she reported with a deep scowl. We took damage at the front. Selestine is extinguishing the mes as we speak, but Im afraid we have neither the time nor resources to fully exorcize the ship.

    How long until we lose control of it, Brra? Cortaner asked sharply.

    I do not know, Corty. Marika should be able to steer it for a few minutes, half an hour at best. Eris turned to me. Can you sell me the ships cursed essence as a package deal?

    I can, but the cursed essence will immediately break out of its container, I replied. Our chances were grim. The distilled Blight will explode in our face the moment Iplete the trade.

    <em>It wont do us much good either, </em>Marika replied through the speakers. The quality of her voice had noticeably declined,rgely due to the foul essence interfering with mymunication system.<em> The </em>Verni <em>needs urgent repairs. The longer I keep it in the air, the more likely it is to fall apart.</em>

    It had taken us nearly a months work to build this ship, and we would lose it in days.

    Cant Selestine petition the Artifacts to smite the dragon from the sky? I asked Eris, grasping at straws. Or summon a storm?

    We are on our own, handsome. Eris shook her head with a hint of resignation and then looked at the cannons. We should close in and try to hit him again.

    Belgoroth can use the Monks powers to anticipate and dodge our shots, I replied in frustration. We need to adjust our strategy. Getting closer will cause the airship to catch fire

    <em>Guys, </em>Marikas voice interrupted me. She gulped on her end of the line.<em> We are getting in sight of Snowdrift.</em>

    My heart sank in my chest. I immediately rushed to the nearest porthole, as did Colmar and the others. The horizon sprawled before us, with not a single cloud to mar it. The river my friends and I had used to enter Archfrost slithered ahead of us, its pure waters glittering in the sunlight. I could see the green fields whose fertility Colmar had helped restore, the ships Marika had built sailing on the waters, and the city Id struggled so much to bring back from the brink. The sight of beauty to despoil caused the undead dragon to hasten up, its wings whipping up storms of embers and dust.

    My hometown and its thousand inhabitants were less than an hour away from annihtion, and I could do <em>nothing </em>to help.

    There has to be a way to stop him, I muttered to myself. If we approached with the airship closely enough to fire in melee range, maybe the right spell A thousand ns formed in my mind, each and every one of them as unworkable as thest.

    I will teleport onto the dragons back, Eris suggested. If you give me all the explosives this ship carries

    I immediately shot the idea down. Belgoroth will skewer you the moment youe in range. Soraseo didnt need to see people to sense their presence.

    The dragons heat will burn you to cinders sooner, Eris, Colmar added. You might as well be stepping into a volcanos heart. If the explosives dont detonate on the spot, you will suffer fatal burns.

    Eris looked at us with a nk stare that filled me with panic.

    No, I insisted. Just <em>no</em>. Nobody dies today. Not you, not my city.

    Do you have another solution, Robin? Eris replied with a resigned sigh. Were running out of options.

    There is another, Brra. We all looked to turn at Cortaner, who alone kept a cool head in the face of these overwhelming odds. We ram him. With the ship.

    His words restored my hope. Belgoroths dragon trumped us in size and firepower, but we had an advantage in mobility. The <em>Verni </em>could pivot faster in the sky than an undead being fueled by the Lord of Wraths power. If we managed to engage him in melee

    Moreover, Belgoroth hadnt personally fought back either. His dragon was both dead and his weapon, so he had to focus all of his attention on his mount to keep it moving. The Lord of Wrath would be vulnerable.

    <em>The airship wontst long anyway.</em> My body radiated with tension. <em>This can work.</em>

    Simply breaking a wing would do, Cortaner said. At this height, the dragon will stter on the ground. The Lord of Wrath will lose his mount and we can force him to fight us on foot.

    He will see using, Eris pointed out.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Then we use a feint, I decided. We pretend to approach him in close quarters to fire the cannons and then throw the airship at him at thest moment. We managed to hit him with our first salvo, which means we can still take him by surprise.

    Colmar nodded in assent. Even if the Lord of Wrath can anticipate our movements, his dragoncks the agility to fully follow his masters orders. It is toorge.

    <em>I can ram him if I use all the avable fuel in thest stretch,</em> Marika muttered on her end. <em>But well have to jump mid-flight and scatter uponnding. If the maneuver fails</em>

    If it fails, thousands will die, I cut in, my fists tightening in resolve. I say we do it.

    I looked at my allies. None voice an objection. Eris even dared to smile. You are a mad and daring lot, you know that?

    We have a go-for-broke mindset, remember? I conceded with a smirk of my own, before looking up at the speakers. Marika?

    <em>Griselda and Rnd wasted a fortune on this airship, Robin, </em>Marika noted, her faintughter echoing through the artillery room. <em>Weve used it to build the worlds most expensive projectile.</em>

    Money is power, as they say, I dered with a smirk. The irony wasnt lost on me. Well bury Belgoroth under all of Archfrosts wealth!

    We immediately took positions. The <em>Verni </em>rumbled with a sudden burst of speed under Marikasmand. Eris teleported away to inform Selestine of our goal, while Colmar began to transmute the artillery rooms walls and ceiling into inert explosives. I triple-checked my allies jumping bags for any hidden defects I might have missed. When I found none, I moved to the edge of the artillery room and assessed our current position. Our airship was quickly gaining ground on Belgoroths dragon in spite of its hull turning into a defaced mural of screaming faces and des. A gaping void called out to me from below, the wind threatening to push me down its embrace.

    Selling away my fear of heights had been my wisest investment.

    Marikas voice gave out onest order. <em>Abandon ship now! I repeat, abandon ship! Jump now!</em>

    I am ready for my part, Colmar dered. The entire room smelled of saltpeter and charcoal. I have done all I can.

    You two will jump first, Cortaner told us. I will stay until thest minute and fire the cannons. With luck, we will hit him. If not, it should distract him.

    Staying onboard any longer would be suicide for anyone else, but somehow I knew that Cortaner would pull it off. That man was made of steel inside and out.

    Good luck, Cortaner, I said with onest salute. Dont die.

    Good luck, Waybright, Cortaner replied with a stern look. The real battle will begin once wend.

    Eris was right, he had such a way of souring the mood. Colmar joined me near the edge of the wood panels separating us from the void with his jumping bag on. He looked at the ground with the same unease as me. I supposed even the undead could feel frightened.

    Are you afraid? I asked him. Its okay to be. Im a little frightened too.

    Are you, my friend? Colmar appeared genuinely puzzled. I thought you had sold away your fear months ago.

    I havent sold my fear of death. I gathered my breath. Its a leap of faith.

    Once upon a time, all I wished for was to fly with my own wings, Colmar answered as he took my own in his metal gauntlet. His metal grip felt strangely fragile. I will have fulfilled that dream even if we do not survive this crash.

    We will, I replied after mustering all of my courage. One, two three!

    We jumped.

    For a brief instant, it felt as if time itself had crawled to a halt. Seconds started stretching into minutes the moment my feet leaped off into the void. The great bursts of wind that battered my skin, the smoke in my nostrils, the screams of my haunted airship, the dragons roars I forgot all of them. A terrible silence quelled them all. It reminded me of the moment when Daltia painted the world in gold and stillness.

    Then we fell.

    The noise of the wind returned stronger than ever in an instant. A powerful force sucked me from below, overwhelming the momentum of my jump and dragged me down to earth. The dragon was close enough that its presence sent waves of hot air crashing on me.

    I would have screamed in terror and exhration, if I werent so <em>tense</em>. Neither Colmar nor I looked at the ground below. Our eyes were firmly set on the <em>Verni </em>as it caught up to Belgoroth. Our airship soared across the sky while leaving a trail of fire behind it. I couldnt see any of our allies through the thick smoke. I hoped Marika, Selestine, and the others had found time to jump too.

    From the cannonballs thrown from the ships nk, Cortaner certainly hadnt done it yet.

    Belgoroths dragon once again showed incredible agility by adjusting its position just enough for the projectile to miss it by inches. The beast raised its maw at the airship to blow it out of the sky, only to realize far toote that it kept rushing in its direction. The dragon attempted to dive to the ground in ast-ditch effort to dodge; far too little and far toote.

    The <em>Verni</em>, the physical incarnation of a united Archfrosts hopes, rammed Belgoroths dragon and blew it out of the sky.

    Marika had never designed the airship for this maneuver, so it shattered upon impact in a shower of steel and fire. The corrupted essence filling its pieces burst into a sea of me that shredded the dragons left wings. The bow impaled the beast through the chest, and a mast punctured its scales like a spear. The mes building up inside the dragon surged to the surface with the strength of a volcanic eruption. Half the creatures body exploded in a cataclysmic st reverberating through the sky that was strong enough to throw Colmar and me off course.

    I watched on with great satisfaction as the <em>Vernis </em>husk and the dragons corpse both fell out of the skies miles away from us.

    Sess! I gloated in triumph. Sess!

    No, Robin, look! Colmar raised his free hand at the clouds. Look!

    A zinget of searing hatred separated from the dragons corpse. So bright was its anger that it blinded me to look at it. Belgoroth had jumped off his mount before the collision.

    Cortaner was right. The true battle would begin once we hit the ground.

    It didnt stop ire and the others from engaging him early, however. Our Cavalier and her other mounted allies pursued Belgoroth and attacked him in mid-fall. I was too far away from them to see clearly, but the impacts did deviate the Lord of Wraths course further away from Snowdrift.

    I turned my eyes away from them to look at the copsed <em>Verni</em>. I couldnt see Cortaner through the rain of burning debris, but I did catch a glimpse of Marika and Selestine. Thetter carried the former a few hundred feet away from us. I didnt see any hint of a jumping bag on the Priests back, but the way her robes fluttered in the wind

    Their shape reminded me of <em>wings</em>.

    Robin! Colmars voice drew me out of my thoughts. The ground!

    I focused back on my own fall. We were falling straight at the river which I once used to travel to Snowdrift. I immediately pointed at its t banks and the nearby flower fields.

    Lets put some space, draw the rope, and find a t area! I told Colmar before pushing him away. t!

    We both activated our jumping bags at roughly the same time. The silk on my back unfurled in the shape of a wide envelope catching air and halting my fall. The sudden recoil nearly made me throw up, but the fabric thankfully held. My bag did not snap under the strain and neither did Colmars.

    The warm wind thankfully carried us closer to the flower fields below and away from the rocky riverbanks. I saw Belgoroth hit the river far away from our location. His mere contact boiled the water to steam and his essence surged in a cloud of red mist. I couldnt see anything.

    Colmar and I managed to make a semi-goodnding on a field of daisies near the riverbank; mine was slightly less graceful than his. I nearly stumbled when my feet hit the ground, but I avoided copsing head-first onto the ground.

    Quite the experience, Colmarmented after removing his jumping bag. I did the same and threw it to the ground. What now, my friend?

    We need to regroup with the others, I said. My eyes searched the sky for our allies, but the cloud of steam raised by Belgorothsnding obscured everything within sight. Eris shouldnt take long to check on us.

    Theck of silver marks flying back to Mount Erebia told me all our allies were alive so far, but I couldnt tell their location. A distant and colossal pir of smoke a few miles away indicated roughly where the dragon and the <em>Vernis</em> wreck ended up crashing. Maybe we could use it as a rallying point?

    We barely had time to take a step before <em>he </em>arrived.

    We felt Belgoroths approach long before we saw him. His presence radiated bloodthirsty essence for miles around him. He was a living Blight on legs who stank of blood and charred meat. The horrible taste of blood on a swords edge watered my mouth. Their air thickened with a foul stench. The steam cloud covering the river turned crimson and echoed with distant screams.

    An unnaturally hot wind scoured the smoke clouds from the sky. A vicious gust scourged the water from the river and dried it up in an instant. The flowers around us burned with smokeless yellow fire, but it was nowhere near as hot as the mark on my skin. My hand started <em>bleeding </em>under my glove from the sheer pressure.

    Then I saw him.

    Belgoroth emerged from the cloud of bloody steam in utter silence in a blur of steel and fire.

    I had fought demons without flinching, but when that burning knight charged onward in a frightful burst of speed, I was suddenly seized with fear. The worlds fastest horse wouldnt have been able to cross a hundred yards in the blink of an eye, but Belgoroth did in half that time. He closed the gap between the three of us in an instant.

    My left hand reached for my rapier on instinct. His own was quicker to the draw.

    I screamed long before my arm hit the ground.

    The pain that coursed through my biceps was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Belgoroths burning adamantine did more than slice through my flesh and bone; it sent ripples of searing heat and cursed essence traveling through my shoulder and body. The mes cauterized my muscles in an instant. I felt the foul essence of boundless fury ripple through my very soul; a bloodthirst so deep and intense it made me want to <em>die </em>on the spot.

    I heard Colmar call my name, but I was too busy struggling against the pain to listen. Belgoroth did not stop to finish me off. Instead, he went right after my friend and cut him in half in a single swing. A torrent of yellow mes engulfed Colmar.

    I couldnt breathe. The pain was so atrocious that I had to bite my tongue to keep myself screaming. I cried, but my tears evaporated before they were halfway down my cheeks. I couldnt <em>breathe</em>.

    Did you truly think that you could fight me? Belgoroths voice was awful in that it sounded unmistakably human. The guttural echo reverberating with each of his words hardly hid the vicious, self-righteous Knight lurking underneath. You Merchants were always too bold by half.

    I dared to peek over my shoulder.

    Belgoroth loomed over the burning remains of Colmars suit. The Alchemists clothes burst into mes among the charred remains of flowers and arid dirt. The metal gauntlet recing one of his hands had begun to melt under the pressure of the swirling Blight surrounding the Lord of Wrath.

    How strange, Belgoroth noted with disquiet. His mark should have flown out of that corpses remains. If it has not, then He turned his burning gaze on me. I couldnt see anything other than yellow mes past his ck metal visor. The Lord of Wrath had be fire itself for all I know. What are you scheming?

    You are smart I rasped between my teeth. My right hand covered my stump to the best of my ability. My glove melted when it touched my cauterized flesh. Figure it out.

    It matters not, I suppose. I shall y each and every one of you. The Lord of Wrath pointed his baleful sword at me. Its ck edge burned with all of the worlds hatred, and a single sinister eye red at me from the hilt. You challenged me to a duel in Walbourg. We shall settle it here and now.

    I was dead.

    It wasnt even a question. There were gulfs so great that none of the worlds goodwill and determination could help cross them. The Lord of Wrath was too quick for me to escape him, too strong for me to stop, and too skilled for me to fight. I had tricked him once with words, so he would not fall for it again.

    My knees were shaking and my heart pounded so hard that my chest hurt. But I still forced myself to unsheath my rapier with my right hand. My Merchant mark burned as I held on to the hilt with all of my strength. The sheer heat was killing me. My sweat evaporated the moment it appeared on my skin and the hot air sucked the moisture in my lungs. I felt like I was breathing in an oven.

    I was a maimed fencer facing a ming demon knight in te armor. My weapon would snap like a twig before it could hit a weak spot. I would haveughed at the sheer disparity in power between us if I wasnt so scared.

    Before I die, you self-righteous prick I want you to know something, I rasped through the pain and suffering. Even now, its <em>still </em>not toote for you. You are <em>choosing </em>this

    He cut down my knees in a single sweep.

    Belgoroths de moved so fast that my eyes couldnt follow its movement. I <em>felt </em>it, however. His adamantine neatly sliced through my bones and the mes consumed my flesh, causing me twice the pain my arm went through. I copsed chest first into the ashes of dead flowers, defeated in a single stroke. I could still feel my legs below the knees, though their stumps stood behind me.

    Twice you have stood in my way, False Hero. There wont be a third time. Belgoroth looked down at me with a fiery re. Imend your courage, however. Though your people will burn in my mes, I will let you choose your death.

    I mustered whatever strength I had left to re at the Lord of Wrath. From below, I finally saw him for what he was: a vile man who followed the letter of a chivalric code while spitting on its spirit. A <em>parody </em>of a true Knight, who would reward my valor with the execution of my choosing.

    If I were to die, I would do so mocking his so-called honor.

    How about I die of old age? I replied with all of my contempt. On a bed of gold and in a womans arms?

    Belgoroth did notugh. Proving himself incapable of keeping his promises, he silently and slowly raised his sword to the sky. He could have killed me in an instant, but he wanted me to see my deathing.

    Forgive him, Bel, a familiar voice said. He meant <em>my </em>arms and bed.

    Eris appeared in a cloud of smoke, a few feet behind her oldrade.

    Belgoroth lowered his sword, but he did not kill me. Instead, he slowly turned away to face Eris. I had never seen her look so solemn. Her hair flowed with the hot wind, while her expression was one of pure grief and regret. Her hand clutched her staff with the grip of someone who hoped not to use it.

    For a short moment, only the sound of the wind stood between them. Both appraised one another while I agonized on the ground. My mark flowed with essence reinforcing my body in a desperate attempt to keep me alive. I saw Eris sending nces at me. She couldnt teleport to my side without entering the range of Belgoroths sword, so her best bet was to talk him out of killing me.

    I wished for her sess with all my heart, but I had my doubts.

    Daltia, Belgoroth finally said. I knew you were behind this.

    Let him go, Bel, Eris replied calmly. Hes right, its not toote for you. You are better than this.

    So are you. You are a shadow of what you used to be, and that man bears a fraction of the power you once wielded. Belgoroth studied his oldrade, his sword firmly nted in the ground. What do you hope to aplish here?

    Eris bit her lower lip. Redemption.

    There is no redemption for those who have failed the Goddess, Belgoroth replied. There was no sorrow nor bitterness in his voice. Only a grim form of eptance. I will never be forgiven and neither will <em>you</em>.

    His answer made Eris flinch. As for me, I want to puke.

    Says the coward too craven to even<em> try </em>to atone I rasped before looking at Eris. Dont listen to him

    Belgoroth spared me a brief nce of utter contempt. Are you so blind? Do you not see her strings on you? He pointed his sword at Eris. She has orchestrated this conflict from the very beginning to wipe us out. She does not regret iming power. She regrets <em>sharing </em>it.

    No, I Eris visibly flinched. Belgoroths words shed deeper than any dagger. Thats not I regret <em>both</em>.

    That is wrong and you know it. Belgoroth red at the Wanderers mark. That so-called demon whose existence you wish to deny embodies your desires. You have lied to yourself enough to fool that false ss, but your actions speak otherwise.

    Dont listen to him I told Eris, struggling to form each word. Hes using the Knights power

    You think that this <em>fake </em>will give you absolution? The disdain in Belgoroths voice was both sincere and palpable. That you can live a <em>fantasy </em>where you bury your past and rece us with a fresh set of fools? That you can do it better the <em>second </em>time?

    Eris faltered, so I helped her the best way I could: with kind words.

    I trust you I coughed smoke. No matter what he says I believe in you.

    Silence. Belgoroth pointed his sword at me. I tire of your prattling, False Hero.

    Eris turned her staff on Belgoroth, her eyes cold as ice. Dont even think about it, Bel.

    You will fight me over this miscreants life? Belgoroth shook his head. That is absurd.

    What have you be, Bel? Eris expression twisted into a crestfallen scowl. I am so sorry for what Ive done to you. You were the best of us, and I turned you into a monster. I allowed that sword to corrupt your mind, just as those coins twisted mine.

    The aura of overwhelming fury surrounding Belgoroth somehow grew more potent.

    I <em>hate </em>those eyes of yours, Daltia, he said with <em>immense </em>loathing. You think you understand me. That you know what it is to <em>be </em>me. I have looked into the soul of man and seen depths of <em>filth </em>that you cannot even imagine. I have witnessed horrors I can never forget.

    Then why dont you <em>stop</em>?! Eris shouted back, her voiceced with frustration. She waved a hand at the sea of fire around us. Why wont youy down your sword and be better? Why do you have to pour more trash into the fire? Youre <em>better </em>than this.

    Is that what it is about, my old friend? That you should feel sorry for the sinners I have killed? You should not regret anything.

    The Berserk me erupted from inside Belgoroths visor. It shone with all the malice of his soul and the fury on which he fed.

    You have <em>freed </em>me, he said with a voice brimming with madness. You have given me the strength to <em>act </em>on what I had always believed. To cleanse the filth that infests this world and never deserved our salvation.

    At this moment At this moment, I think it finally dawned on Eris that the man Belgoroth <em>was </em>and the person she <em>thought </em>he was were two very different people. That he would rather destroy the world than admit his wrongs.

    Her gaze hardened like stone.

    I was afraid you would say that, she said with a quiet, small voice. What do you intend to do next?

    My duty. Belgoroth managed to make the word sound ominous. I will tten the horizon until mes cover the world, as they once did in the beginning. I will burn everything until the evils of man perish with him. Then my oath to the Goddess shall finally be fulfilled.

    I cant let you do that, Bel. Eris briefly nced at me, then back at her former friend. There are things in this world worth believing in.

    If you do not walk away, Daltia, then you will die. Belgoroth nted his de in the ground. This is all I have to say. There is nothing before, nothing after.

    A sinister silence settled between them. The two former Heroes stared at one another, their grip on their weapon tightening. You could cut the tension with a knife.

    Eris broke the stalemate with a sigh. Im sorry, Bel.

    Belgoroth struck her in a blur of speed, but his sword only cut through white smoke.

    Multiple shadows flew over my head. I recognized Silverines cry above me and saw a crimson sh descend upon Belgoroth. The Lord of Wrath raised his sword to parry the one falling on him from above. The blowback sent Soraseo flying back, but she managed tond back on her feet.

    Hands grabbed my shoulders from behind and dragged me away. Belgoroth turned his head in my direction, but bolts of magical lightning forced him back.

    Oh Goddess I recognized Marikas voice and the warmth of her hands on my skin. Hold on, Robin. Were here.

    Cortaner emerged from the crimson mist with zing fists. Selestine was here too, two white reptilian wings pping behind her back. She hovered in ce above the Lord of Wrath while ire and Silverine ran circles in the sky. Soraseo threatened Belgoroth with her sword from one side, and Eris did the same with her staff from the other. We had him surrounded.

    <em>That naughty nun</em> I would have smiled if my body didnt hurt so much. <em>She was stalling for time.</em>

    A wyvernnded between me and Belgoroth. The true Knight rode on its back.

    You are surrounded, Lord Belgoroth, Rnd dered with a true kings dignity. He climbed down from his mount with his thundering spear in his right hand and his royal sword in the left. Though I know you will not listen, it would be wise for you to surrender.

    All I am surrounded by are ghosts and cowards, King Rnd. Belgoroth raised his sword at his fellow Knight in defiance. Whether you are eight or eight hundred, youck the strength to challenge me.

    And youck the mercy to use your gifts justly. Rnd red at him from behind his helmet. This madness ends here.

    My friends charged at the Lord of Wrath from all directions, and all I could do was watch the battle among the mes.

 Chapter Forty-Four: The Sword Dance

    Chapter Forty-Four: The Sword Dance

    Their des sang as they shed.

    Both the Lord of Wraths sword and Rnds royal regalia were forged from adamantine; only the former had been soulforged and anointed in all of the worlds hatred, but both were stronger than steel and carried the weight of centuries behind their strikes.

    So when Rnds swords edge <em>cracked </em>slightly, he came to a terrible realization.

    Belgoroth was stronger than him.

    Rnd had expected as much, but to feel the power difference in his flesh and bones was another matter entirely. The Knight had been unmatched in battle since he received his mark. He had broken swords during training, lifted carts above his head, and ughtered demons on his lonesome. His skin could stop arrows and his legs couldnt tire. His body was a weapon.

    But for all of his might, he was a squire facing off against a legendary Knight.

    The blow sent Rnd reeling a few feet back, his metal boots blowing up ashes and embers around him. His Vassal Heroes were the first to jump into the fray after him. Soraseo charged forward, her sword whistling as it cut through the air, and ire descended upon Belgoroth with a spear. Belgoroth dodged thetters aerial attack by swiftly stepping out of the way and easily parried the formers blow with his sword. The Lord of Wraths burning essence shed with the enchanted winds swirling around Soraseos weapon. It looked like a breeze trying to push back a volcanic eruption.

    Still, Soraseo distracted Belgoroth long enough for Marika to drag Robin away to safety with one hand and start purifying his essence-befouled wounds with the other.

    In spite of the threat to his allies, Rnds mind was clearer than water. The flow of anger suffusing the air washed over him like water on a smooth stone. Robins workaround was proving most effective.

    <em>Perhaps too much. </em>Rnd looked at Robins horrifying wounds with concern.<em> I hope that your n will prove effective, my friend.</em>

    Rnds strategy was simple enough: keep Belgoroth away from Robin, whose death would jeopardize everything, and take the Lord of Wraths sword from his cold dead hands. A n so elegant in its simplicity yet so nightmarishly difficult in its execution.

    <em>This is it. This is the moment I was born for. </em>Rnd steadied his sword and spear for battle. His mark burned on his skin. His ss yearned to trade blows with its corrupted temte. <em>I cannot falter today.</em>

    For his kingdom. For his people. For the <em>world</em>.

    With Robin out of immediate danger, the other Heroes struck Belgoroth all at once. The Lord of Wraths mes had consumed everything around them. The field of flowers had turned into a barren wastnd of ash and the river nearby had boiled into a shallow canyon under the heat-induced drought.

    There was nowhere for any of them to hide; only a in of cursed embers on which to die.

    Cortaner first tried to strike Belgoroth in the back, but the Lord of Wrath absentmindedly kicked him in the chest with enough strength to crack the Inquisitors armor. Another parry threw Soraseo off-bnce, forcing Rnd to throw his thundering spear at the Lord of Wrath before he could cut her down where she stood. The projectile surged with the speed and strength of a cannonball.

    This proved to be an ill-fated decision. While it forced Belgoroth to interrupt his attack to dodge the projectile, he quickly grabbed the spear in midair with his free hand. The lightning coursing through his armor would have killed a normal man thrice over, but the Demon Ancestor hardly seemed to notice. He pivoted and threw the spear back at Eris, who barely managed to teleport out of the way and caused the spear to fly across the horizon.

    Eris temporary departure left a gap in the Heroes encirclement, which Belgoroth immediately attempted to break through. Soraseo and Rnd immediately chased after him, but the Lord of Wrath proved faster than either of them. His superhuman strength and innate understanding of movement let him move faster than the wind. His steps wiped up a dust trail in their wake.

    But even he couldnt outrun light.

    A cataclysmic white beam smote Belgoroth from above like divine judgment. Selestine hovered above the Lord of Wrath, her hands surging with sunlight. She had grown wings out of her back, though Rnd was too focused on the battle to ponder this miracle.

    So great was her power that it nearly brought the Lord of Wrath to his knees.

    Rnd had to cover his eyes so as not to go blind. A pir of pure white light two meters thick pushed onto Belgorth from above until his shape became akin to a shadow swallowed by the dawn. The ground copsed beneath his feet, and his knees bent slightly under the pressure.

    Rnd was no expert witchcrafter, but he knew enough to understand what Selestine was doing: she drew upon the raw elemental fire essence around them, purified it, and then channeled it in such a concentrated form that it became akin to a focused ray of sunlight. Any of these steps would demand considerable witchcrafting expertise, let alone all three. She had to be attuned to the Firewand, just as Rnd dedicated himself to the Windsword.

    However, for all of her talent, not even Selestine could keep up such a mighty spell forever. The light in her hands died down and the Lord of Wrath emerged from the resulting crater. His armor steamed at the edges and the fury of his Berserk mes shine had muted slightly, but his fury remained undiminished.

    That spell would have vaporized any other man caught in its midst. For a Demon Ancestor, it proved little more than a temporary inconvenience.

    The brief time Selestine earned their group proved useful nheless. Eris reappeared to plug the gap in their encirclement and a lightning bolt erupted from the runestones on her staff. Belgoroth stopped it with his sword only to find himself open for attack. Seeing her chance, ire dived down from above and dropped a slew of ss bottles on the Lord of Wrath. They shattered on impact and showered Belgoroth in green ooze.

    The substance covered the Lord of Wrath and immediately hardened. Colmar promised that his alchemical creation would be stronger than stone once it finished solidifying.

    It failed to reach that stage.

    The Lord of Wrath erupted like a volcano. So great was the heating from him that the Heroes had to widen the circle they formed around him. The Berserk me covered every inch of the first Knights armor and wreathed it in a yellow inferno. His head became a lions mane of fire around two ckened eyes. Colmars alchemical concoction failed to withstand the mes unholy warmth and soon turned into brittle dust.

    Rnds eyes widened in shock when he looked at the ground beneath the Demon Ancestors feet. His mes had turned a small area of dust around them into ckened ss.

    Quicklime? Your predecessors tried something like that seven hundred years ago. Belgoroth rolled his shoulders and shrugged off thest of Colmars substance. It did not work the first time either.

    So much for that n.

    Dont let him break the encirclement! Rnd ordered his allies as he rushed back into the melee. Pin him down!

    Soraseo reached Belgoroth first and pressed on with a flurry of blows so quick that Rnds eyes struggled to keep up with her sword. Belgoroths defense proved imprable nheless. Whereas Soraseo put all of her strength and will in each blow, the first Knight parried her with casual ease. Not a single move was wasted. He predicted every feint, every movement of the wrist, every attempt to bypass his guard.

    Rnd joined in with his sword. Knight and Monk double-teamed the Lord of Wrath with all of their strength and speed. Their three swords shed in a blinding dance of metal, each blow sending ripples traveling through the air.

    Soraseo switched tactics. Instead of trying to break past the Lord of Wraths guard, she started adapting to Rnds own movements. When he struck to the right she hit left; when he stepped one way, she jumped in the opposite direction. For the first time in his life, Rnd fought side-by-side with someone who could keep up with him.

    Cortaner was circling Belgoroth from behind in an attempt to fade out of his vision and strike him from a dead angle. The others stayed on standby for fear of friendly fire.

    <em>My heartbeat quickens</em>. As much as it shamed him to admit it, Rnd could hardly suppress his excitement. It had been so long since he fought a foe that could take his blows and push him to his limit. <em>This is a fight worthy of a song.</em>

    You are talented, Belgorothplimented Rnd and Soraseo in a backhanded fashion, but inexperienced.

    You are powerful, Rnd replied, but alone.

    A true Knight needs no one, Rnd. Belgoroth parried one of Soraseos swings. Let alone a Mother-Killer.

    Soraseo grit her teeth at the taunt, but she did not waver. Her sword lunged for Belgoroths head.

    This time, he did not parry it.

    The Lord of Wrath moved his head to the left and let Soraseos sword kiss his shoulder. The sharpened de sliced through the mantle of me and then the metal underneath. It continued its progress all the way to the upper ribs, though Belgoroth shed no blood.

    The sword remained stuck.

    When Soraseo realized that a traps jaws had closed on her, it was toote. Belgoroth unleashed a stream of fire from his zing face straight at her. The Monk barely had time to raise her arms and protect her head before the mes swallowed her whole. Soraseo did not scream, but she let go of her sword in her pain and fell to her back.

    Rnd immediately attempted to rescue her, but Belgoroth countered his attack with a swift vertical swing. Rnd dodged, and his foes de moved all the way to the ground.

    Then Belgoroth turned it upward at thest moment, so fast his swords edge appeared to disappear.

    <em>A feint, </em>Rnd realized, far toote.

    Belgoroths sword sliced his left hand at the wrist, and he <em>screamed</em>.

    Unimaginable pain coursed through Rnds arm. None of his years of training nor the thousand blows he had taken in battle prepared him for it. He didnt even have time to bleed, since the Berserk me cauterized his wound in an instant. His sword fell to the ground alongside the hand clutching it.

    The golden mark on it faded away.

    Rnd heard ire call him from above, but he failed to focus. Belgoroth pushed Rnd back with a kick so strong that his foot cracked his chest te; if he had worn no protection, the blow would have punctured his ribs and squashed his heart.

    Belgoroth would have finished him off with a second swing had Cortaner not tackled him from behind with all of his might. The Inquisitor weathered the unholy mes and managed to force the screaming Lord of Wrath to the ground. Belgoroth thrashed around, each missing movement of his sword carving the ground open.

    Shoot us both! Cortaner shouted fearlessly.

    Eris and Selestine both answered his call, thetter less eagerly than the former. The witchcrafters rained light and thunderbolts upon Belgoroth and Cortaner alike, all in vain. Their spells bounced off the cloak of fire swirling around the Lord of Wrath without reaching either duelist.

    Belgoroth finally pushed Cortaner off him and then answered Selestines magic with a zing breath of Berserk me. The Priests light shed with the Lord of Wraths inferno, but where the former wielded her own limited essence, thetter could call upon all of the worlds hatred. The unholy fire beat back the light and swallowed Selestine whole. Her robes burned alongside her skin, revealing reptilian white scales on her back and chest.

    Selestine fell.

    ire surged from the smoke and caught the Priest in mid-fall, but Belgoroth did not let her counterattack. After grabbing Soraseos sword, which was still embedded in his shoulder, he swiftly threw it with deadly uracy at ires pegasus and managed to hit a wing. The Cavaliers mount and its riders crashed into the dried riverbed in a cloud of dust.

    The Heroes line of defense had utterly copsed. Only Cortaner and Eris alone remained to fight the Lord of Wrath, and thetters spells failed to do anything. The Inquisitor stood his ground nheless.

    Belgoroth remained unimpressed.

    You are the worst of humanity, he told Cortaner. In a supreme show of disdain, the Lord of Wrath nted his sword on the ground and elected to fight Cortaner with his bare hands. Look at you, a condemned man trapped in an iron maiden. You think going through the pain you inflicted on your victims is punishment enough for your sins? Your very existence <em>disgusts </em>the Goddess.

    Mayhaps, Cortaner replied calmly. His fists burned with twin blue mes. But I will not look the other way again.

    He rushed at the Lord of Wrath and engaged him in battle.

    They wrestled among the mes and smoke, two men of steel drowning in an ocean of fire. Belgoroth was faster and stronger, each of his blows swifter than lightning, but Cortaner somehow held his own thanks to some kind of strange martial art. The Inquisitor managed to dodge strikes at thest moments and answered them back with punches of his own. One of his uppercuts hit the Lord of Wrath in his zing face and sent him reeling. Another nearly threatened to leave him stumbling.

    But then Belgoroth quickly adapted.

    His power let him understand Cortaners fighting style and counter it. Soon he avoided all of the Inquisitors punches and countered with lightning-fast strikes powerful enough to bend metal. One such blow tossed Cortaner into the crater left by Selestines magic. Belgoroth jumped inside, stomped his foes head under his foot, and then grabbed his armor.

    He ripped out Cortaners chest te in a superhuman show of strength.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    A Penitent Ones armor was merged to their bones so it could never be removed. The steaming metal te that Belgoroth removed carried two ribs with it and exposed Cortaners raw flesh. An entireyer of skin had been flensed off his body.

    Cortaner did not scream. Losing that chest te must have felt like being yed alive, and yet, he did not scream. But he did not rise up again.

    And all Rnd could do was watch. Even if he tried to seize Belgoroths sword, it would do them no good so long as its wielder remained alive.

    His heart swelled with despair. Selestine, Robin, and ire had been defeated. Soraseo struggled to extinguish the mes consuming her armor. Cortaner was being beaten to death one punch at a time. Eris magic failed to do anything, and Colmar

    Rnd sensed something burning on the back of his right hand. A warmth different from the Lord of Wraths baleful mes filled his body. When Rnd looked at his remaining hand, he saw a light shining beneath his gauntlet.

    His Heros mark had transferred to his right hand.

    The fight was not over yet. Not so long as he lived.

    It was such a gruesome and hideous thing to pick a sword from ones own severed hand, but Rnd powered through the pain and disgust.

    You asked me to let you perish in silence once, Belgoroth said as he turned his back on the defeated Cortaner, emerged from the crater, and took back his sword. I shall grant your wish. Meditate on your sins as you bleed to death.

    He turned his baleful gaze on Eris next. The Wandered gritted her teeth and then teleported away. The searing wind swiftly blew away the white smoke that remained.

    I expected as much, Belgoroth said with scorn. He turned his gaze on the wounded Robin. Marika was treating his injuries near the empty riverbed, but they had nowhere to hide. Perhaps she will show up again once I y this one.

    Realizing the danger they were in, Marika grabbed her warhammer and prepared for a doomedst stand. Belgoroth took a step towards her, only to find Rnd standing between him and the Artisan.

    If you want to reach him, you will have to go through me, Rnd dered.

    Why protect the false Merchant of all people? Belgoroth asked with suspicion. What trickery are you nning?

    He knew. He knew that they needed to protect Robin in order to secure their victory.

    Rnd steadied his sword, his teeth clenched. He couldnt let Belgoroth pass. If he did, then his friends would die within a minutes turn.

    Robin had trusted Rnd to win this battle. It was time for him to repay that trust with victory.

    It matters not, Belgoroth stated as he raised his wicked sword. Your allies have fled or fallen before my might. You would do well to surrender and ept the inevitable.

    This man is a citizen of Archfrost and a friend, Rnd replied without fear. I would be a poor king if I did not defend my subjects.

    Then you are a false Knight, but a true warrior, Belgoroth said with a hint of respect. Very well, Rnd. I shall grant you a quick death.

    His sword struck in a blur of speed.

    It took all of Rnds strength not to be brought to his knees in the first sh. Holding his weapon with a single hand meant he couldnt pull all of his weight behind the parry. He was fast enough to intercept his foes swings, but not enough to make up for the immense gulf in strength and experience.

    Their one-sided duels oue was decided before it even began.

    Belgoroth left Rnd no opening, no moment to breathe, no option to counterattack. All Rnd could do was parry and stall for time. Each strike cracked his swords edge further like the ticking of a clock nearing close to the fate hour. The blowback sent waves traveling through his bones. His feet sank into the ground. The very earth bowed before the Lord of Wraths overwhelming power.

    Thest parry snapped Rnds sword like a twig.

    The royal adamantine de of Archfrost was split in half, one part falling on the ground, the other ast line of defense against the Lord of Wrath.

    It is finished, Belgoroth said, his sword raised for the coup de grace. Farewell, Rol

    His armor turned to stone before he could finish his sentence.

    The mes rising from Belgoroths body were swallowed by a gray tide of granite. Cursed metal tes changed in an instant into a thick hard mineral. His armor became a prison, a statue from which the fire inside could not escape.

    Eris stood behind the Lord of Wrath, an old dusty glove of worn leather steaming on her hand. A silver mark glowed on its searing surface.

    The Lord of Wrath wasnt the only one who could practice a feint.

    Eris false retreat had seeded in lowering Belgoroths guard. She had waited until he became so sure of his victory and so focused on striking down his sessor Knight that his awareness of movement wouldnt let him keep up, then struck him in the most unexpected of ways. A wealth of charged runestones helped the Wanderer protect herself from the Berserk me until she could get close enough.

    That power Belgoroth rasped through his helmet. The armor began to crack under his pressure. Not even a shell of stone could contain his inhuman might for long. The Alchemi

    A crimson blur beheaded him in a single stroke.

    Soraseos skin bore burn marks, but her aim was true. Her bloodied sword sliced Belgoroths neck through a weak spot and sent his head rolling across the ash-covered ground.

    This should have killed the Lord of Wrath, yet his stone hands slowly raised his weapon for a counterattack. Rnd seized his moment before their foe could break out of his prison. Putting all of his might behind his broken de, he sliced off Belgoroths left hand.

    The Lord of Wraths wicked sword fell to the ground. His body turned inert like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

    Do it now! Eris all but ordered Rnd. Before he pieces himself back together!

    Belgoroths head was already rolling back to his corpse. Rnd did not waste any more time. He let go of his sword and then seized Belgoroths prized weapon; the very seat of his immortal soul. The Knights mark burned as his fingers closed on the hilt.

    His world turned red.

    A veil of evil had fallen upon Pangeal.

    To Rnd, it appeared as if all of reality had been swallowed by a crimson tide. The burning in and its Heroes vanished in an instant. An endless sea of blood arose in their ce, so deep that it reached all the way to his knees. Countless weapons stood atop its surface like inds, from piles of swords to axes and polearms.

    The red sky was devoid of sun and clouds, but a searing light burned Rnds skin nheless. He smelled the putrid stench of Sebastians treacherous sweat and recognized the taste of his first poisoned cup on the tip of his tongue. A sinister wind blew a thousand curses at him.

    <em>Pederast,</em> his mothers voice whispered in his ear. <em>Get out of my sight.</em>

    The memory struck him like a dagger to the heart. More soon followed.

    <em>Hard to believe hes blood, </em>his uncle Clovis added, his words a distant echo sharper than a des edge. Cruel lies spread by both nobles andmoners apanied this condemnation. <em>I heard he fondles little boys no older than eight The younger the better</em>

    A thousand haunting insults battered Rnd. This world taunted him with all of the snidements and rueful remarks that ever wounded him.

    And yet, none of them affected him anymore.

    You should not have taken up my sword, Rnd.

    Belgoroth was sitting on a guillotine throne right in front of his fellow Knight. Lines of iron maidens, brazen bulls, and wicker men surrounded the Lord of Wrath like a court of death and suffering. His helmet was off, and the visage of mes in its ce red at Rnd and the cursed sword in his hand.

    His baleful gaze would have terrified the bravest among men, but Rnd held his head high. What is this ce? he asked the Lord of Wrath. An illusion?

    Thisnd exists between two shes of a sword, between dream and reality, Belgoroth replied. You visited it a thousand times before, each time you touched a weapon.

    He waved his iron hand at the crimson horizon. Entire mountains of weapons sprawled out as far as the eye could see. Rnd witnessed hills of swords, spears that reached all the way to the clouds, mountains of cannons piled up like castles of steel, forests of axes, and so many more abstract constructs.

    Men had invented so many ways to kill one another.

    This is the Weapon World, Rnd. The purest incarnation of our power. Belgoroths tone turned to bitter scorn. This ce is where all the harmful tools that humanity has ever conceived are collected. A monument to mankinds appetite for violence and conflict. Each time a man wishes to inflict pain upon another, a new weapon rises from the blood.

    I see The sight filled Rnd with immense sadness and mncholy. There are too many to count.

    Their number increases constantly, as does the depth of this sea of death. Mankind filled it, one drop of blood at a time. Belgoroth rested his burning head against his fist. Rnd detected a hint of pity in his fiery gaze, and maybe regret too. To wield my anger is to be me, Rnd. You were a true warrior worthy of respect, but you have sealed your fate by taking upon my sins. You will sumb to the swords curse or to your false marks judgment. It is inevitable.

    Rnd looked at the cursed de in his hand. The hilt burned hotter thanva. Even if his power let him wield it somewhat safely, every fiber of his being demanded that he let go of it. The sword was a key to a bloodstained abyss of madness and evil. Its foulnesstched onto Rnd like melting tar.

    <em>Traitors deserve death,</em> the wind whispered in Rnds own voice. <em>Those who have killed my father and betrayed my people the world would be better off without them</em>

    Rnd had uttered these prayers himself once. How many times had he prayed for the Goddess to strike down Griselda where she stood, to avenge Sebastians treachery, and to punish those who had betrayed his trust? With this sword, he could fulfill these wishes himself. He would have a Demon Ancestors power and all the time in the world on his side.

    But Rnd didnt care about old grudges anymore.

    No, Rnd said with a mind clear as water. You are mistaken, Ser Belgoroth. This shall not go as you n.

    Belgoroth shifted on his throne. He stared at Rnd in confusion, then utter surprise.

    Robin was right. Rnd took a long, deep breath. The air tasted of blood and poison, yet it failed to deter his relief. This sword hurts me to carry and I hear its foul promises but I do not care enough to fulfill any of them.

    Impossible Was that fear that Rnd detected in Belgoroths voice? I sense no anger within your heart. Not a single trace of it.

    It was true. All of Pangeals fury had gathered in this awful realm, but Rnd could not feel any of it.

    He <em>physically </em>couldnt.

    Where is it? Belgoroth asked in disbelief. Where is your wrath, Rnd?!

    Oh? That?

    Rnd smiled ear to ear.

    Ive sold it.

    I struggled to stay awake.

    Marika had managed to exorcize the vile essence that threatened to consume me, but none of her ministrations could soothe the terrible agony of having three cauterized limbs. I had run out of tears of pain long ago.

    But I couldnt pass out yet. Not before the moment of truth.

    All of us still awake looked at Rnd with dread. Our friend stood in front of Belgoroths petrified remains with his wicked sword in hand. The Knights mark glowed so brightly that I could see its shape under Rnds metal gauntlet.

    It seemed to take all of his self-control not to let go of the sword.

    Rnd? I asked, my voice so low I could barely hear my own words.

    Rnd looked at me.

    For a brief instant, I feared to meet his gaze. I had heard tales of what a cursed weapon could do to a man from Marika. The worst of them wielded their wielders, and this one carried all of humanitys potential for malice. If I had overestimated Rnds willpower, if I miscalcted, then we were all <em>doomed</em>.

    But when I finally dared to lock eyes with my friend, all I saw was warmth.

    Will you buy this swords connection to all the worlds anger? Rnd asked with a strained, pained smile. Alongside a silver coin?

    In spite of all of his pain and exhaustion, I couldnt help butugh. I knew it wasnt time to rejoice, but the way he said those words sounded so utterly absurd to me.

    Was a gold coin too pricey? I asked with a smirk of my own. Ill buy them as a package deal.

    My mark burned brighter than stars in the night sky.

    A silver coin manifested in the palm of my hand, so hot it burned through my glove. All of the worlds anger coursed through its metal. So great was the strain that it didnt even have time to melt.

    The coin disintegrated in the blink of an eye, and the wind of victory carried its dust away.

    Tremors shook the Blight around us. The bright yellow mes scourging the wastnd around us weakened. The air grew chiller. The smell of blood and corpses lessened. All the foul essence summoned by the Lord of Wrath weakened in potency. Even his corpse and armor vanished in a cloud of red smoke.

    Cracks appeared all over Belgoroths cursed de. Now that it had lost its immortal, unchangeable nature, the weight of a thousand years worth of blows and damage suddenly showed. The wheel of time crushed the adamantine, with interest.

    The Sword of Belgoroth shattered into a hundred pieces.

    A holy light shone through the Weapon World.

    Rnd watched on as the crimson sky turned golden and the sea of blood started to recede beneath him. The tide that once reached his knees slowly dropped one drop at a time. The winds of fury became silent.

    What Belgoroth looked at his hands. The mesing from them were dying one by one. What have you <em>done</em>?!

    We have separated you from the worlds anger, Rnd exined. The flow of vile essence that fueled your immortality shall no longer reach you. This sword of yours will be your souls prison.

    You You sold your ability to feel anger and then killed me, so you could master my Belgoroth quickly caught on. The false Merchant. <em>He </em>nned this.

    I must confess that Robin is the greatest cheater I have ever encountered. And worst of all, the Merchant was proud of it. I suppose it is morally right to bend the rules when they are unfair.

    Rnd would have loved to say that he had mastered his anger enough to wield Belgoroths sword, but he knew better. No man could shoulder the burden of all of the worlds hatred. Anyone with the ability to feel fury, even a paragon of virtue, would have fallen under the vile artifacts sway.

    So Rnd sold it away. For a time.

    Truthfully, I miss it, Rnd confessed. The beastmens conditions, the suffering of my people, the way you hurt mypanions These are things worthy of indignation. I struggle to care without it.

    Hisck of anger had left him a serene and hollow thing. He had fought Belgoroth in the name of duty and to protect innocents, but he lost his passion in the process. It felt akin to cutting off an arm to prevent an infection: it had saved his life at the cost of sacrificing a part of himself.

    I shall master my anger one day, Rnd promised. I will let it inspire me to take the righteous path, but I will not let it drag me down to the same depths as yours.

    This this is not over Belgoroth shook his head in utter disbelief. This cant this cant end like this.

    It will take a long time to purge your mark of the corruption you seeped it in, Rnd conceded. But your long war hase to an end.

    Rnd looked at the strange world around him. Now that the sea of blood had lowered in depth, he could finally see what it hid under its surface: countless swords nted in the ground like flowers on a field.

    They reminded him of tombstones.

    I do not think that the Goddess meant for this ce to be a monument to human cruelty as you said, Ser Belgoroth, Rnd said. I see it as a memorial to warriors past and present. It might take decades before it can shed its curse and regain its former splendor, but I hope to witness it again when the timees.

    The Lord of Wrath let out a roar of defeat and anger. He jumped out of his throne and raised a finger at his fellow Knight.

    Your people will disappoint you, Rnd! he shouted with a shriek of fury. They will put you on a pedestal, ask you to save them from their own mediocrity, beg for you to shoulder their sins, and when you <em>fail</em>, they will cast you down and spit on your name! They will answer your efforts with entitlement and your sacrifices with ingratitude!

    Mayhaps, Rnd conceded. I do not know what the future holds for me.

    I do, because I remember being like <em>you</em>!

    The mes around Belgoroths head vanished.

    Rnds mind had conjured countless fearsome pictures of the Lord of Wraths face, but Belgoroth looked quite handsome under his lion-faced helmet. His blonde hair had grayed with age. His blue eyes burned with cold fury. His gaunt cheeks showed signs of wrinkles and old battle scars.

    He looked so much like Rnd himself, albeit older and wearier.

    You think humans are worth saving, Rnd, but they have spent a thousand years proving otherwise! Belgoroths eyes burned with anger and despair. All they do is steal and cheat and rape and kill, <em>kill</em>, <em><strong>kill</strong></em>! You are fighting for a <em>lie</em>!

    Perhaps, Rnd conceded. But it is a lie worth fighting for.

    You idealistic fool, his reflection said, seething. The only way to fix this broken world is to wipe it all out and let the Goddess start over! None of its inhabitants deserve Her salvation!

    That is not for you or me to decide, Rnd replied calmly. I am not a god, and neither are you.

    Who else will right the worlds wrongs, if not us?! When Rnd refused to answer him, Belgoroth clenched his teeth and grabbed his hair. He looked at the blood under his feet with haunted eyes. I I cant fail in my duty, Rnd. If I do then all Ive done it cant have all been for <em>nothing</em>.

    He looked so impossibly old at that moment, like a battered shield that had chosen to break rather than bend. Maybe it was because he had sold away his ability for hatred or because he too had surrendered to his anger over past injustices once, but Rnd found himself feeling somepassion for this madman.

    In spite of all the atrocities he hadmitted against his friends and subjects, Rnd couldnt bring himself topletely despise Belgoroth. He had seen the world through the first Knights eyes and shared his grief.

    Even before I sold away my capacity for anger, Ser Belgoroth, I never truly hated you, Rnd said in a final attempt tofort his predecessor. I pitied you. Because as you said, I remember being like you.

    Rnd gathered his breath.

    I remember my brief sh of grim satisfaction when ire told me that she had in Sebastian and the emptiness that followed. Even now, it just sounded so wasteful. He had almost corrupted his own ss for nothing. A part of you knows that you knew that you were doing wrong, but you couldnt bring yourself to let go. You kept killing because you know that only a hollow void awaited you beyond that horizon of blood. You didnt have the strength to face the regrets piling up behind your back.

    Belgoroth fell to his knees in utter defeat. His hands covered his face, maybe to hide tears of sorrow and frustration.

    But no one is above judgment, even a Hero. The crimes you havemitted against our world and its inhabitants are severe, Ser Belgoroth, and you have shown no desire to atone for them. Maybe if you had been willing Rnd shook his head. It was toote to ponder such things now. The broken sword which you used to kill countless innocents will be your prison. You will haunt this Weapon World until your soul fades away. This shall be your punishment.

    The Lord of Wrath did not say a word.

    His fate was already sealed.

    I pray to the Goddess that you find peace one day, Rnd said with an air of finality. We shall not meet again.

    The Weapon World faded away and Rnd returned to reality. His friends and allies looked at him under a pure blue sky.

    It was over.

    The true Heroes had won.

 Chapter Forty-Five: The Wages of Victory

    Chapter Forty-Five: The Wages of Victory

    Archfrost was safe.

    Two seasons had passed since I returned home and started contending with Belgoroths influence. I had spent months dealing with his Blights, stamping out his cult, and preventing wars that would empower him. A good third of our current generation of Heroes had dedicated all of its efforts towards foiling the Lord of Wrath.

    And we <em>won</em>.

    In spite of overwhelming odds, we had seeded where even the first generation failed: we had <em>defeated </em>a Demon Ancestor for good. We didnt seal away or dy Belgoroths return, no. Wed truly <em>destroyed </em>him. The Sword of Wrathy shattered, its wielders soul imprisoned inside its remains until it faded away. We had saved Archfrostnay, the <em>world</em>from annihtion.

    So why was I in no mood to celebrate?

    I want you to understand what you are selling away, I told the man before me. You will never see your arm again.

    I understand perfectly. His gaunt frame and priestly robes looked familiar, although it took me a while to recall why. This is not the first time we met in simr circumstances, Lord Robin. Do you remember me?

    I think I do, I replied. I remembered my first court session clearly. You are Bishop Sigiv Hranslow. When the Arcane Abbey condemned you for your Reformist views, I proposed to reduce your sentence tomunity service.

    And I refused, the man confirmed. My decision cost me months of monastic reclusion, but I do not regret it in the slightest.

    I studied him closely. Why are you here? From what I remember, you called Heroes unworthy of worship in your sermons. Why offer your arm to one?

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    I still stand by what I said. Heroes are humans entrusted with a duty, not idols to be adored. The man smiled warmly at me. However, their deeds and sacrifices ought to be honored. We could see the fires all the way from Snowdrift, Lord Robin. You were ready toy down your life to save us from evil incarnate, and though I do not worship you, I wish to honor your valor in any way I can.

    You do not owe me anything, I countered. Snowdrift was my home. I fought to defend it as any other would have in my case.

    Few would have stood their ground against a Demon Ancestor, Lord Robin, the priest replied kindly. Moreover, it is because of your treaty with Walbourg that I was allowed to leave the monastery without facing persecution. I will not leave this room until you ept your reward.

    He was quite the stubborn one. I guessed he had to be, to stand up to the Arcane Abbey.

    I bowed to his resolve by signing the contract. My mark glowed upon validating the deal. New flesh grew over my left stump. A fresh limb reced the one I had lost to Belgoroths sword, strong and young. I suppressed a pang of sorrow when my benefactor found himself with an empty sleeve. The bag of gold that teleported in front of him didnt feel heavy enough.

    Strange, the priest said upon studying my new arm. Why does it not look like my arm anymore?

    Its thanks to a wording trick. I purchased your arm, but I explicitly refused to buy its appearance. A subtlety which I had picked upon when trading away peoples wounds. It causes the grafted limb to shift into one that fits the current owner.

    Interesting wordy. The priest nced at the bag of coins with disinterest. I do not need your money, Lord Robin. I understand that you need to offer a price to buy my limb, but I am not so helpless as to be unable to work.

    Then find a good use for those funds, I told the priest. This country has plenty of orphans who would benefit from an adults help.

    I must make a poor priest, to be scolded for myck of foresight. After a moments hesitation, Bishop Sigiv finally swallowed his pride and seized his payment. Very well, Lord Robin. I shall use these funds wisely.

    My friend Marika will design a prosthetic for you too. They are no true substitutes for missing limbs yet, but we are working on improving them.

    Is this what you merchants call customer support? Bishop Sigiv asked with a wry smile. Do not concern yourself with me, Lord Robin. You will need your hands more than I will.

    That may be true, but I still hoped to create a full recement for missing limbs one day. I believed we could create perfect prosthetics in time with Soraseos and Marikas help. If golems could move arms of steel, why not men?

    Bishop Sigiv left my hospital room afterwards, leaving me alone. I took the asion to jump out of my bed. My new right leg had been slightly longer than the left one, but I managed to correct that issue by selling an inch of it away. They fit me just like the old ones.

    A cloud of white smoke filled my room.

    You might be the first Merchant to try to dissuade people from selling you their body parts, Robin, Eris noted upon teleporting in. Half of Snowdrift volunteered for the honor, but you haggled over each one.

    Were you eavesdropping? I raised an eyebrow at her in amusement. Isnt it a sin to listen to another priests confession?

    Only if you dont keep the secret, Eris teased me back. Can you me me? You wouldnt be the first Merchant in by a hidden assassin. I wonder why you insisted on meeting your volunteers one-on-one.

    Because I do not want them to feel pressured, I replied. My new legs and arms bore visible scars where they had joined with my body. A permanent reminder of the gifts others granted me. Trades like these ones should be carried out without any regrets. I wished to buy limbs that would be the least missed.

    It had taken me long enough, but I had fully recovered.

    Our fateful battle with Belgoroth had left meatose for a while. When I awakened dayster, Id learned that we had been evacuated to Snowdrift for immediate care. Healers and witchcrafters spent enough time purging my body of Belgoroths foul essence that Therese and our allies managed to travel all the way back from the capital to check on us.

    How are the others faring? I asked Eris. I knew Marika, Rnd, Soraseo, ire, and Selestine had recoveredenough that they apparently visited me in myabut Cortaner was still in critical condition thest time I checked.

    I worried for Colmar the most, however. Whereas Id been lucky to survive with just my limbs cut off, my undead friend had lost his entire body except for his hand. It was a miracle his will endured in this form at all.

    Cortaner will make it. Do you know what he told me when Ist visited him? <em>The Goddess condemned me to live with my regrets, Brra. I have made peace with it, and so should you</em>. Eris scoffed. Thats Corty for you. Hell never change.

    No, he wont, I replied. I couldnt help but notice that his words to Eris could be interpreted in multiple ways. I admire his resilience. I thought Belgoroth ripping off his Penitent Ones armor would kill him.

    That man has survived worse. The first thing he asked for upon waking up was to have the removed chest piece put back on.

    I shuddered to even imagine what ordeal could be worse than being beaten to near death by a demonic embodiment of all the worlds fury. At least Cortaner didnt suffer those injuries for nothing.

    What happened to the Sword of Wrath? I questioned Eris. Has it been secured?

    Lady Alexios has decided to take the fragments to a ce unknown to me, Eris exined. I assume she will seal the sword in a secret Sanctuary and wait for its essence to purify the old Knights mark. Bels soul will remain imprisoned inside until that dayes to pass.

    A process that might take decades for all we knew. Do you think he might find a way to escape again?

    I dont think so. He has no way of consenting to a trade even if my other self gathered all the swords fragments. Without the flow of wrathful essence fueling his curse, Bels soul is powerless. Eris looked away. He will spend his final years in solitary confinement.

    I studied her sorrowful expression. In spite of his atrocities and attempted murder of her, Eris still considered the fallen Knight a friend. Do you regret putting him there?

    I regret binding his soul to a sword at all. Eris clutched her staff in her sorrow. Silly as it sounds, I thought that he would be <em>courage </em>itself when I soulforged his sword. I hoped to preserve Bel forever at his best: the bravest Knight I ever knew.

    Instead, Belgoroths soul turned to hatred and fury. Unlike Rnd, he had allowed his worst qualities to overwhelm his good ones.

    The frontier between valor and madness is often thin, I reassured her. We both gave him his chance to turn back from thetter, and he denied us.

    I know. Eris shook her head. Id hoped that he would take the hand I gave him. Instead, he pushed it away and chose to drown.

    Redemption is a long and difficult road, Eris. Not everyone has the strength to take the first step. I took her hand into mine with my new fingers. I will help you avoid the pitfalls along the road, if you will let me.

    Thank you, oh wise one. Eris winked at me. Your task should be easier, now that you have two arms to hold me with.

    Beware, oh wicked nun of unfulfilled desire, one of these hands belonged to a holy man, I teased her back with a mock, dramatic tone. It shall only save the righteous.

    Erisughed at my joke, and I found it to be the most beautiful sound in the world. It did notst long. Once she calmed down, she looked at my hands as they held her own.

    Robin, she said, her tone solemn.

    Yes? I replied.

    Ive thought over what you said to me before we fought Belgoroth. Eris gathered her breath. Are you truly ready tomit to me? Even knowing well, <em>everything</em>?

    Yes, I replied firmly. If you are ready tomit back.

    Then I stand by what I said. This wont end well. Eris chuckled lightly. But I swear to you: I will do my best to help you prove me wrong.

    I suppressed augh of my own. What kind of promise is <em>that</em>?

    The best deal that you will <em>ever </em>get, handsome, she teased me back. We are in an exclusive contract now. There is no going back.

    No, there wasnt. We had entered a serious rtionship now. Come what may, I would see this through the end.

    And I wouldnt have it any other way.

    You know, I said while drawing her closer, since were alone here, we could

    Someone knocked on the door as if on cue, much to my disappointment. I immediately recognized Benis light touch after living with him for so long; the shy boy had visited me each day since he returned to Snowdrift. He entered the room, politely bowed at Eris and me, and then gestured at me with hand-signs.

    Your mother wants to see us? I tranted, my brows furrowing into a deep scowl. About Colmar?

    She and Selestine must have finished grafting his glove to his new suit, Eris said.

    Somehow, Benis worried expression did not inspire confidence in me.

    Eris and I followed the child through the corridors of Snowdrifts hospice. Hundreds of wounded soldiers received treatment in its convalescent ward. The stench of blood and medicine choked my breath, and the sight of rows upon rows of beds filled with burn victims filled my heart with sorrow. Our victory hade at a cost.

    Belgoroths rampage had left Archfrosts northern armies shattered, with only a handful of the tens of thousands sent to protect Stonegarde returning alive. A set of catastrophic losses. The one silver lining was that the beastmen armies from the north had been simrly damaged and wouldnt be able to muster any kind of invasion for years.

    In a way, Belgoroth had ensured peace by ravaging both sides. Neither Archfrost nor its would-be invaders retained any strength left to continue the fight.

    Beni guided us to a sizableboratory deeper inside the building. Blood, bile, and other chemicals bubbled away on shelves in between overden bookshelves. Colmar had used this ce as an office for much of his time in Snowdrift, and piles of scrolls adorned with his notes piled up on the cabs.

    Selestine, Marika, Soraseo, and ire were already present. All of them appeared to have recovered from the wounds they sustained in the battle, with our Priest covering her wings and scales under her robes. They surrounded a perfect copy of Colmars apothecary outfit, which they hady bare on an operation table. My undead friend very much looked like one of his own patients.

    Robin. ire smiled ear to ear upon seeing me. d to see you back on your feet.

    They arent my feet, technically, butouch! Marika hugged me so tightly that I struggled to breathe. Marika, youre squeezing me!

    Its what you deserve for making me worry so much! Marika replied upon letting me go. She immediately wiped away tears forming in her eyes. Dont frighten me like that <em>ever </em>again!

    We were greatly worried forabout you, Soraseo said with a warm and refined smile. The healers thought that you might die in your sleep. Your wounds were severe.

    Selestine nodded and joined her hands in a quick prayer. Thank the Goddess, your time has note yet.

    You worry too much, I replied with a grin. I was so very d to have such good friends. I couldnt pass on while ire still owes me her braid.

    ire grew a little flustered and crossed her arms. <em>You</em> are the one owing <em>us</em>, she protested. You built the <em>Verni</em> using ours and Griseldas funds, and then crashed it on its <em>second </em>flight! I should sell away my Frostfox Company shares at this breach of trust!

    This tale has been uwfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    I never advertised the <em>Verni </em>as tomorrows method of travel, I lied through my teeth. It was always meant to be a weapons tform.

    You should reinvent airships as dragonying arrows, Eris suggested with glee. Their seized hoard should more than cover the construction price.

    Dont give him ideas, Eris, Marika said with augh. One crash was enough, thank you very much.

    ire rolled her eyes in silent defeat, while Selestine smiled warmly. What do you say, Colmar? she asked. Did you enjoy your first flight?

    The apothecary suit did not move an inch.

    Colmar? I asked, a scowl spreading on my face. Colmar, can you hear us?

    The silence that followed filled me with dread.

    I exchanged worried nces with Marika and the others. I opened my mouth to ask again, when Colmars voice surged out of his apothecary outfit.

    I hear you my friend. The awkward pause in the sentences middle reminded me of a dying wheeze. The words were hardly louder than a whisper. I cannot move. This suit does not answer mymands.

    Marika didnt hide her disappointment. Did the graft fail? I made sure to seamlessly intertwine your gloves fibers with the rest of the fabric.

    The graft was sessful, Selestine replied, a frown forming on her face. However

    My eyes lingered on the Alchemists mark on Colmars glove. I could have sworn that it had lost some of its luster.

    Robin? Colmars voice sounded awfully resigned. Can I ask you for a favor?

    I didnt like his mncholic tone at all. Of course, Colmar. Anything.

    I would like you to take me to the Deadgate as soon as you can. Colmar didnt say more for a moment, as if struggling to speak. Please take the journal I lent you with us. I would like you to write down thest entries for me.

    My heart skipped a beat at his wording. I wasnt the only one to have picked up on it.

    The <emst </em>entries? Marika asked, her eyes widening in shock. Colmar, what does that mean?

    I Colmars voice grew weaker. I struggle to speak.

    We will let you rest and preserve your strength, Selestine said with a tone that broke no dissent. She turned to Benicio next. Young man, would you kindly look after him for us? I need to speak with your mother and the others.

    Beni dutifully nodded and stayed at Colmars side while Selestine took us outside. A frightful, familiar memory crossed my mind the moment she closed the door behind us: that time when a healer announced that my father would not survive the night.

    What was that for? ire asked with a frown. Dont tell me

    Selestine confirmed what we already suspected. He wontst long.

    Colmar was dying. Though I supposed <em>fading away</em> would be a better term for a century-old ghost possessing a suit.

    How? Soraseo asked, her fists tightening. How is this possible?

    An undead requires an anchor to remain among the living, Selestine exined with a sad sigh. Shambling corpses are trapped in their own decaying flesh, whereas ghosts are tied to items or locations that embody their lingering regrets. Colmars soul is bound to his suit, which Belgoroth damaged and befouled with his cursed me.

    But weve repaired the suit! Marika protested. The graft was sessful!

    Colmars soul is unfortunately tied to its original parts, Selestine replied, her voiceced with sorrow. Id hoped that grafting the glove onto a new suit would tighten his grip on the world, but it seems that I was mistaken. I suspect exposure to Belgoroths essence has only further weakened him. Truthfully, Im surprised that he hasnt passed on yet.

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    There has to be another solution, ire insisted. Cant you help, Robin?

    I shook my head. My mark wont validate any trade that involves touching his soul, nor do I think he would like me to fiddle with it. I could try to sell him more years, but I doubt it will work. His time has alreadye and passed.

    As much as it frustrated me, I could think of no clever loophole that would let us save Colmars soul from the afterlife. He wasnt a dying man whose wounds I could sell away, but an ancient ghost haunting his own remains. My power wouldnt let me buy or sell his souls connection to his glove, no more than it would have allowed it with Belgoroth.

    He hasnt asked us to save him either, Eris noted. He wants to see the Deadgate. No more, no less.

    Marika looked at the ground in silent sorrow. Its hisst request, isnt it?

    I nodded sadly. A grim silence fell between us. One way or another, Belgoroth would im one final victim.

    How much time does he have? I asked Selestine.

    Days at most. She looked into my eyes with the utmost seriousness. If he requested that you go to the Deadgate, I would advise you to leave at the earliest opportunity. He may not survive the journey otherwise.

    It will be a long trip even if we leave now, ire warned us.

    Not so long by flight, I replied while ncing at Marika. Did you keep the prototype airship stashed away?

    I did, Marika confirmed. I can modify it enough to house a small group. It will be no <em>Verni II</em>, but it should let us reach the Deadgate in time.

    I will visit the Hunter in the northernnds, Eris said. He should guide us through the City of Wrath. Well meet there once you cross the mountains.

    I will join you too, ire decided. I said I would go to the Deadgate too, and I owe Colmar that much.

    Soraseo nodded in assent, as I expected her to. Selestine alone decided to remain in Snowdrift to help heal the wounded and exorcize thest of Belgoroths influence. She also worried about the beastmen who had survived the Lord of Wraths rampage

    Ive heard the soldiers discuss how to best hunt the stragglers. Selestine tensed up as she spoke. She clearly worried for the safety of both parties. I would like to talk with them first. I am certain that many among these beastmen were either deceived by the Knot of Wrath or press-ganged into the horde. If I can talk to them, I should be able to negotiate a peaceful solution.

    You should speak with Rnd, ire suggested. He carries no animosity for beastmen and his men adore him. If he asks for a truce, then no man in Archfrost will dare disobey him.

    My gaze lingered on Selestines robes. Now that I paid closer attention, it seemed that she folded her wings underneath them like a secondyer of clothes. About the battle

    Selestines smile had a dangerous edge to it. Here be dragons, Lord Merchant. Here be dragons.

    I see, I replied without probing any further. I was dying of curiosity, but I respected a friends privacy. To each their own secrets.

    We kept Colmars, so I guess we can do the same with yours, Marika confirmed.

    I would appreciate your discretion on the matter. Perhaps one day, I will be ready to tell you more. But today is not that day. Selestine gave our group a polite bow. I shall pray to the Artifacts to grant you good wind, and the Goddess to ensure your safe journey.

    Both prayers would be wee.

    Our adventures in Archfrost were about toe to an end.

    Once I was discharged from the hospice, I made my way to Snowdrifts ck Keep for thest time. Queen Therese herself came to wee me the moment I showed myself at the gates in all of her finery.

    Greetings, Robin, she said with a regal reverence. It warms my heart to see that you have recovered.

    You look divine, Therese. I quickly kissed her hand and the golden ring on her finger. But youre probably tired of hearing it all the time.

    Far from it. Therese let out a warm chuckle. I will miss your charming ways whenever you leave.

    I havent said anything of the sort. <em>Yet</em>.

    Weve known each other for half a year, Robin. I can tell our time together hase to an end. Therese tilted her head to the side. She took myck of protest as confirmation of her hypothesis. My husband and I will miss you greatly.

    Not enough to try to talk me out of leaving, I teased her. And here I was ready to duel the Knight for your hand once.

    Between us, I did my best to set you up with ire, Therese confessed with a sly chuckle. Unfortunately, you both proved ill-matched. At least you found someone.

    I suppose I did. Though I doubted Eris would let me put a ring on her finger anytime soon. I dont struggle with finding people I like. Its keeping them in my life thats proving difficult.

    Practice makes perfect, as they say, Therese replied with a bemused wink. Know you will always have a ce in Rnds life and mine, should you ever decide to stay in Archfrost.

    Thank you, Therese. I bowed at her. Perhaps I will take you up on that offer one day.

    Therese chuckled and swiftly invited me inside the ck Keep. The building overflowed with guards since Rnd and his wife temporarily turned it into their base of operation. I suspected the two of them would likely rule Archfrost from here for a few weeks until the situation on the frontier stabilized.

    How are you managing the transition, now that ire has decided to abdicate? I asked Therese as she guided me through a stairway to her husbands office.

    I admit I was quite annoyed at first, after all the time my husband and I spent to secure her im, Therese conceded. However, part of me always knew it would happen sooner orter. ire was born to ride, not to rule.

    On that, we agree, I replied. However, I had the feeling ire wouldntpletely leave Archfrost just yet. The kingdom had stabilized somewhat, but it would remain in dire need of brave knights to deal with the remnants of Belgoroths influence. I know you will do well in her ce.

    Snowdrift no longer needs a guiding hand, Robin, Therese said to me. You have made sure of it.

    It was such a bittersweet feeling, to see my work soplete that my help was no longer required.

    If I may ask, I said. Why did you want to be queen so much?

    I assume you mean why did I want a crown more than love? Therese winked at me. Why, because I wanted to turn Archfrost into a vassal to the Everbright Empire. I am a dirty foreign spy sent to corrupt your beloved king after all.

    Of course, I replied with a chuckle. And the <em>real </em>reason?

    That <em>was </em>my original n. Therese briefly paused as we passed near a window, her eyes observing Snowdrift. However I confess that I have grown more attached to this country than my homnd after spending so many years in it. I wish to see it and its people prosper.

    More than the Everbright Empire?

    I believe my old homnd and the new can be close friends. Therese chuckled. But only on <em>our </em>terms.

    Archfrost would find no better stalwart defender.

    Therese introduced me to her office. We found Rnd working there behind a desk, stamping documents while looking bored to death. The King of Archfrosts mood clearly brightened upon seeing me.

    You look terrible, Robin, he said upon shaking my hand. Unlike mine, his new one was made of metal and silver rather than flesh. But its good to see you out of bed.

    Your Majesty doesnt look too shabby either, I teased him back, my eyes settling on his new hand. I see you didnt waste time recing your lost body parts.

    This is a witchcrafter-made prosthesis. Rnd examined his silver fingers. I demanded that they add a hidden de to it.

    So it would count as a weapon for your power and thus let you control it seamlessly? I couldnt help but chuckle in admiration. Seeking loopholes already? This proves that you are a true Hero, Rnd.

    He learned from the best, Therese teased me. You were a terrible influence on him, Robin.

    A fact Therese will not let me live with. Rnd examined my new legs with slight difort. Do they <em>fit</em>?

    They fit me well enough. I sat on the desk. Ick your valor, Rnd. Selfish as it sounds, I would have missed that tingling sensation coursing through my veins whenever I flip a golden coin into the air.

    You should have seen the lines of people who offered to take on your burden, Robin. Rnd smiled warmly. One of my tutors once told me that a persons worth was determined by how many lives they had touched. You have inspired <em>thousands</em>, my friend.

    You tter me. I tried to smile, but for once I couldnt find the strength to. I wont forget it.

    Rnds expression soured. I know this expression, Robin. This is the face of a man about to say goodbye.

    Im afraid so, Rnd, I confirmed. Eris had already departed for the northernnds, and the others were preparing our airship for departure. We leave tomorrow at dawn. One of us cant afford to wait any longer.

    Ive learned about Colmars condition. This is truly a shame. We couldnt have defeated Belgoroth without his help. I and Archfrost owe him so much. Rnd scowled. Is there nothing we can do for him?

    There is. I handed Rnd a letter, which I had written under Colmars guidance. He asked me to deliver this to you.

    Rnd read the letter alongside Therese. Both frowned the further they read, the former more than the letter.

    He wishes me to spare that wench Florence. Rnd set the letter aside in disgust. Is he mad? That woman started the Purple gue that ravaged ournd. The only reason I byed her execution was to gather information on the Knot of Wrath. With Belgoroths destruction, her usefulness hase to an end.

    I almost regretted selling him his wrath back after I woke up. It would have made negotiations easier.

    I am no happier with it than you are, I confessed. My parents had died because of Florences madness. If I had my say, she would rot in a special kind of hell until death; but I didnt have the heart to argue with a dying friends final request. However, Colmar believes that she could eventually be rehabilitated.

    He is the only one to think so. Rnd set the letter on his desk. At least he didnt ask me to pardon her. Why does he care that she spends the rest of her life in prison instead of ten minutes in the gallows?

    Because he is a doctor and his purpose is to save lives, even those that used to be his enemies, I replied. Those were his exact words.

    Privately, I also suspected that Colmar saw himself in Florence. He too had lost people and suffered prejudice. Perhaps he hoped Florence could learn to deal with her grief and make peace with her sins if given enough time.

    Florence is no threat to us anymore with her patrons demise, Therese argued. Alive, she mighte to regret her choices and be a productive member of our society. Death will solve nothing in her case.

    Rnd pondered the letters words for a moment before reaching a decision. I will ask Selestine to take care of her. She needs more healers than I can provide her with. Florence will pass from my jurisdiction to that of the Reformists.

    A wise choice. Selestine had taken it upon herself to guide Eris and could deal with Florence if she ever returned to her old ways. Part of me selfishly hoped that the fallen apothecary would prove Colmar wrong, but I had given Daltia a chance for redemption. It would have been hypocritical to deny it to another because I disliked her personally.

    Your mercy honors you, my husband, Thereseplimented Rnd. Showing a few felons mercy will help us reassure the dissenters in Walbourg that we wont betray our covenant.

    Rnd stifled augh. You never miss an asion to find a political angle, do you?

    Only because my lords gentleness made it possible, Therese replied diplomatically.

    She was more right than she thought. The Rnd Id met for the first time would rather have died than offer a second chance to the likes of Florence. The vengeful prince was slowly maturing into a wise king worthy of respect.

    Therese excused herself under the pretense of preparing Florences transfer. I knew it was mostly a polite way to leave Rnd and me alone. The new queen always possessed a keen sense when it came to understanding others motivations, and she could tell we Heroes had private matters to discuss.

    Do you trust Eris? Rnd asked me the moment his wife exited the office.

    Yes, I replied without hesitation. Why the question?

    Rnd looked into my eyes with utmost seriousness. Do you know who she is?

    Yes. I narrowed my eyes at Rnd. Do <em>you</em>?

    I have my suspicions. Rnd shrugged his shoulders. She took great risks fighting with us and I trust your word, Robin, so I will defer to your judgment.

    So Rnd knew the truthhis power must have helped him with itbut he would keep it to himself. Good. I didnt think Eris was ready toe clean to everyone yet.

    Thank you. Im sure Eris appreciates your trust too. I smiled at him. You have grown wise, Rnd. You are the Knight who should have been.

    Because you helped me rise when I stumbled, my friend. Rnd joined his hands together and studied my face. You are going to hunt down the other Ancestors. I can see it in your eyes.

    He knew me well. It was the first Merchant who granted them their immortality, and our battle with Belgoroth proved that I can strip it away. My sessors and I may be the only people who can put them in the ground for good.

    If they do not kill you first. Rnds jaw clenched in worry. Do you require my help?

    I shook my head. I doubt the n we usedst time will work twice. From what I heard, none of the other Demon Ancestors soulforged items count as weapons, but Ill figure something out.

    I trust you to do so. Rnd crossed his arms and pondered my words. I should leave my kingdom in Thereses care and follow you. You are likely to get yourself killed otherwise.

    Dont worry, Ive hired Soraseo on as a bodyguard, I quipped before quickly regaining myposure. Archfrost needs a king as much as it needs a Knight. Belgoroth has carved out a path through the mountains and Stonegarde is a smoking ruin. The border between your kingdom and the northernnds can no longer be closed, Rnd. You know what this means.

    My subjects will have to find a way to coexist with the beastmen, simply because we have no other choice anymore, Rnd replied with a sharp nod. If we made peace with Walbourg, I am certain that we can achieve it with the beastmen given time.

    Not all wars are waged with swords on burning battlefields, I said. Your new battles will be fought with words and in the hearts of men.

    It is a war I promise not to lose, Robin, though I would have an easier time winning it with you at my side. Rnd sighed. Where will I find a prime minister of your caliber?

    Find a person you trust, and I will sell him the required skills, I joked back. With a friends discount.

    Rndughed heartily. You are more than <em>a </em>friend, Robin; you were the best. He took my hand into his own, using the one made of flesh this time. His fingers felt warm against mine. I would tell you goodbye, but I know we will meet again one day.

    I hope so too. The sooner the better. Take care, Rnd.

    I had made a friend for life.

    We discreetly left Snowdrift at dawn.

    Marika had expanded the airship prototype by merging it with parts from the shipyard. The result wasnt asrge as the <em>Verni</em>, but it nearly rivaled a caravel in size. We hadnt given the ship a name yet, although I had the feeling we woulde up with one by the time our journey north concluded.

    Selestine had fulfilled her promise for good winds. A powerful breeze pushed our airship north towards the snowy mountains and the ds beyond. With luck, we should reach the Deadgate within a few days time.

    I disliked farewells of any sort. Those always left a bittersweet feeling. When I watched my hometown shrink away from the skies above, I found myself overwhelmed by a deep sense of mncholy. If my life was a book, then I was doing more than turning the page. I was writing a volumes final words.

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    I found Snowdrift a dying port crumbling under the weight of its decay and corruption. Id left it as a thriving city bustling with life. My parents would have been proud. I first came here to disperse their ashes, and I hoped that they would bless thisnd with luck for many years toe.

    Therese was right. Snowdrifts people no longer needed my help or ires leadership to prosper. We had given them the tools to seize their own future and they would live up to the asion.

    Was this how wandering knights felt once they departed the vige they had saved? A strange sense of aplishment in the fact that they had be unneeded?

    I had the feeling that I wouldnt return to my homnd for a while, if at all. Perhaps I would try to visit it again in a few years and witness what fruits ourbor yielded in our absence. For now, the horizon was my frontier.

    The City of Wrath awaited us.

 Chapter Forty-Six: Archfrost Epilogue: Frost & Farewells

    Chapter Forty-Six: Archfrost Epilogue: Frost & Farewells

    It was a cold day in the northernnds when Colmar passed on.

    I knew it would happen today because he asked me to write down his journals final entry on his behalf. Coincidentally, we were on the first day of the Earthmoon and the beginning of autumn. The season of summer and war hade to an end; now was the time for harvest and burials.

    We had allocated a small cabin for Colmar and a wheelchair for him to sit in. Beni and I tended to him while the rest of our group guided the airship through cold winds and icy clouds. Unfortunately, the prototype airship was not a semi-autonomous vehicle like the <em>Verni</em> was, as I didnt have time to enhance it with my power before we departed. It required a crew to work.

    Colmar looked through the porthole during the entire trip. The frozen air of the winternds covered it with ayer of ice, but my friend didnt seem to mind. He spent hisst few hours detailing his willbequeathing most of his belongings to the Snowdrift hospicesand various observations about the interactions between his soul, the body it upied, and Belgoroths leftover essence.

    I admired Colmars work ethic. Few apothecaries would be so dedicated as to spend theirst moments analyzing what killed them.

    hence why I believe that while a soul autonomously produces essence, it is also malleable enough to be reshaped by outside influence, Colmar recounted. Beni stood at his side, his hands pushing against the Alchemists glove. This does call into question the very concept of identity. Is it my soul that fades away, or merely the essence imprint believing itself to be a birdkin long gone?

    Since my mark wont let me transfer you to another receptacle, I would assume that you have a soul, Imented as I wrote down his observations in the journal. What do you say, Benicio? Does he have a soul?

    Little Beni looked up long enough from his work to nod at me. He would know. He had spent hours stabilizing Colmars essence in an attempt to prolong his unlife.

    You are outvoted, Colmar, I quipped.

    I have forgotten the value of peer review, Colmar replied with slight amusement. Be kind to include young Benicios contribution in the thanks and closing words. And yours too.

    It is quite the long list youve recounted. Colmar wished me to include hundreds of names, from his dead mentor Johannes and former apprentice Liliane, to all the Heroes he had encountered and numerous others. Youve met so many people.

    I have. Colmar marked a short pause, as if to ponder something. Young Benicio, would you kindly leave us for a moment? What I must say next is for Robins ears alone.

    Beni did not argue. He bowed at Colmar and then politely closed the door behind him as he left the cabin.

    The child is bright, just like his mother, Colmarmented.

    He is, I confirmed. Do you know that he designed the wheelchair youre sitting on?

    Is that so? Colmar asked. He reminds me of of

    My friend struggled to finish his sentence, but I could guess who he was thinking of. He reminds you of Liliane, doesnt he?

    Yes, Colmar confirmed, his voice slightly weaker than before. I feel my mind slipping away, Robin. It bes harder and harder to recall names.

    Im sorry, I replied. It was such a terrible thing to decline mentally and be aware of it; and doubly so for a bright mind like Colmar. I had to lighten his burden somehow. Do you want me to lend you some of my skills? I did purchase a few that could help you.

    Colmar denied my proposal. You are very kind, my friend, but we cannot run the risk of you losing them if I expire suddenly. Worry not. I shall see this through.

    I hoped so. ording to our maps and Eris information, we should reach the City of Wrath soon enough. I prayed that Colmar could cling to unlife until then.

    Robin, Colmar said, his voice sharper than ever. Once I pass away, I would like you to publish my journal.

    I squinted at him. <em>All</em> of it?

    Yes. Tell my story as it is. Spare nothing. Colmar marked a short pause, though I couldnt tell if it was to ponder his next words or because the effort cost him a great deal of willpower. It is not up to us to decide what people should or shouldnt know. Let them decide for themselves.

    Many will try to censor it, I warned him. The mere fact that an undead beastman wrote the text would lead to a scandal. The Arcane Abbey wont let the truth of the Demon Ancestors spread, and I suspect many would rather ignore how the beastmen came to be. Not to mention those flowers that started the Purple gue.

    Let the book-burners try to light their bonfires. I guarantee you that one copy will always survive to reach future generations. Knowledge can be buried, but never destroyed. Colmar let out a sound akin to a wheezing rattle. I do not expect everyone to believe my tale, Robin, or draw the right conclusions from it. For every ten people who understand that the Nightseeds are an evil that must be stamped out, one fool will mistake them for his ticket to immortality.

    But you dont believe in hoarding knowledge.

    No, I do not. Colmar raised his index finger at the porthole. I took the fact he still had enough strength to do so as a good sign. Look at this marvel, Robin. You and Marika assembled it by using tools and techniques developed by centuries of engineers. Would this airship have seen the light of day, had the men who invented ships kept the schematics for themselves?

    Probably not. I closed the journal. Im not afraid of change though.

    Neither am I. I guess that is why we got along so well together. I could have sworn I saw a spark in Colmars empty ss eyes as they stared through the porthole. I cannot tell what impact my knowledge will have on future generations, nor how they will see my work, but I hope it will inspire them to make the right choices.

    I believe it will. I stared at the journal in which Colmar poured his entire life and beyond. I held the weight of his soul within my hands. I will do as you ask, Colmar. I will see to it that your story is spread far and wide.

    Thank you, Colmar replied. Then someone knocked on the door, harder than Beni. Yes?

    Soraseo entered the cabin. She was dressed for battle, but did not carry her helmet. The slight shame in her eyes amused me. Despite being a master of movements, I could read her like an open book.

    Were you listening, Soraseo? I asked her.

    Yes. Soraseo blushed slightly. I have apolog She quickly caught herself. I noticed she stumbled on her words more often when emotional. I apologize, Colmar. I did not mean to.

    It is fine, I trust you, Colmar replied warmly. I take it that we willnd soon?

    The City of Wrath is within sight. Soraseo moved to grab the wheelchairs handles. Are you ready?

    Colmar waited a moment before answering. Are <em>you</em>?

    I could see the answer written all over Soraseos face. Two seasons ago, she had been ready to drop everything in order to get a single step closer to the Deadgate. Now that her objective was within sight, she found her heart beset with doubts.

    Forgive me, Colmar, Soraseo said with some hesitation. But can I ask you a hard a <em>difficult </em>question?

    There are no difficult questions, only difficult answers, Colmar replied calmly.

    Soraseo stared at him in confusion, which neatly proved his point. He means yes, I tranted. You can ask him.

    Soraseo nodded slightly and gathered her breath.

    Do you fear death? she asked with a low, faint voice.

    No, Colmar replied without <em>any </em>hesitation. I did once, but I havee to understand that those who fear death are burdened with regrets. They are ghosts haunted by what they have done, or worse, what they could not.

    Colmars fingers lightly tapped on his wheelchairs armrests. I do not think that my serum is what kept me existing as an undead. It was the spark that began my transformation, yes, but not the fuel that sustained it. My regrets over failing to save Heros Rest from the Purple gue are what kept my spirit from passing on. I could not rest until I eradicated that pestilence.

    But some of the gardens might still be out there, I noted. You said to me once that you suspect the Knots were refining the original form. The fight goes on.

    It does, Colmar conceded. But I trust you and the others toplete my task in my stead. You have fought a Demon Ancestor and won. You can do anything.

    I chuckled at his confidence. We have six more to go and thest one nearly ughtered us all with ease. I wouldnt bet on our odds of defeating them all within our lifetime.

    How good that you never y a game without fixing it first then, my friend.

    You know me well, I replied. Well do our best.

    You have my word we shall defeat the Ancestors. Soraseo respectfully bowed at Colmar. You may face the Soulforge without regrets.

    Colmar let out a wheezing sound. It is not death that you should fear, Soraseo, but an unfulfilling life. If you reach the end of a road without looking back, then you will not waiver at the finish line.

    Soraseo listened to his wisdom with her full attention. Colmar never learned of her true identity since he had been absent from our journey to Walbourg, but our friendship and adventures must have given him some insight into her past. His words were not lost on her.

    Thank you, Soraseo said respectfully. My mind is cleared of clouds.

    She was ready to confront the Deadgate too.

    A few minutester, we gathered on the airships deck after itnded. The air was so cold outside that Marika, Beni, and I had to bury ourselves under a mountain of fur coats and caps to protect ourselves from frostbite; and even then I suspected we would suffer some anyway. Soraseo alone appeared to be unbothered by the chilling wind, while ire and Silverine seemed used to it. Both had scouted ahead to find the spot where Eris promised to await us.

    We hadnded on a snowy in overlooked by the most dreadful ce I had <em>ever </em>seen.

    Whereas the horizon was a white expanse of ice going on forever and crossed by a frozen river, the City of Wrath was a hideous, sted mess of ck and red stone. Its crooked towers could be seen from leagues away. From the height of its monstrous curtain walls and the ground its ancient buildings covered, I assumed it used to be a sprawling metropolis before the Sunderwar. All of Snowdrift could fit within one of its districts.

    However, I found nothing inspiring about the ce. Its calcined stones all bore the mark of mes and half the towers had crumbled under the weight of centuries past. A dense cloud of crimson essence so thick as to obscure entire buildings covered it like a vile nket. Most ominously, the ice that ruled over thesends stopped neatly at the citys outer walls, and its sprawling streets appeared untouched by the frost.

    This ce is so evil that even the snow wont touch it, Marika muttered as we climbed down from the deck and onto the ice below. Soraseo lifted Colmars wheelchair barehanded and jumped after us in a single leap. Ive never seen a Blight so intense.

    The wind carries the smell of blood too, I noted. I would have thought that Belgoroths demise would have exorcized this ce.

    Marika shook her head. The evil that men do often outlives them.

    The Lord of Wrath was gone, but it wasnt his power that sustained this cursed ce. The anguish of his victims and of massacres past had stained thend to such a degree that the Blight endured centuries after their demise.

    How long would it take for this ancient wound to heal? Centuries? Or would it remain until Pangeal rid itself of war and wrath? In any case, I doubt we had enough pure runestones in the world to purify it.

    I banished these thoughts from my mind for now. We werent here to destroy this ce, nor did we intend to linger around it for long.

    Eris awaited us near a rudimentary camp of one mammoth fur tent and a campfire. Like us, she had traded her usual clothes for a thick mantle of white fur and a pair of gloves; one that fit her well, if I did say so myself.

    Two other creatures were present too: a beastman and his stusk mount. Thetter was by far the most intimidating of the two. The mammoth-like creature wasrge enough to carry a house on its ck, and its white wool meshed very well with the snow. A single, cyclopean yellow eye stared at us above a set of sweeping tusks of curved ivory. Stusks earned their name for their fearsome ability to petrify their enemies with a gaze, but I sensed no hostilitying from this one.

    Whereas Beni observed the creature with childish amazement, I was more interested in its beastmanpanion. The hulking creature stood tall and upright like a man, yet matched a pr bear in size and woremer leather armor. A coat of dense white fur covered ck skin marked with runes and frostbite. His fearsome, simian face showcased a mouth full of sharp fangs and intimidating pale red eyes. A silver mark shone on his forehead, representing a wolf with stag horns and bearing the Erebian numeral for nine.

    The Hunter.

    Youre early, Eris teased us. Miro hasnt cooked his breakfast yet.

    I couldnt wait to see you again, I replied charmingly before kissing her on the cheek. My lips were so cold I thought they would stay frozen on her skin.

    Good answer, Eris replied with augh before managing introductions. Everyone, this is Miro, our Hunter and tour guide. Miro, these are the tourists I told you about.

    The names Mirokald, the Hunter said in a booming male voice akin to cracking ice, and in near-perfect Archfrostian too. He waved his enormous paw at us in a clumsy imitation of the human hand gesture. Happy to make your acquaintance.

    Could you be a yeti? Colmar asked with sudden interest. I heard tales that your kind had gone extinct over thest decade.

    Far from it, but unlike the tuskmen we prefer the mountains and ciers over the tnds to the south. Mirokald pointed at the pot stewing on the campfire. Want some?

    Im disappointed, I said before examining the cooking pot. I recognized the food as fish stew. My mother said that yetis ate children for breakfast, but this doesnt smell like human flesh.

    How would <em>you </em>know what a cooked human baby smells like? Mirokald replied with augh. As I suspected, he had a sense of humor. Your mother was mistaken. The only humans fat enough to warrant the effort live in your cities to the south, and its a pain to carry them back home.

    Little Beni approached the stusk, which looked at him with its single eye. The child recoiled a little, but dared to touch the creatures wool.

    Beni his mother scolded her.

    Let him y, Old-Ma only eats tundra grass and moss, Mirokald said, before studying Beni more closely. The child doesnt have a mark.

    Benicio is my son, Marika replied with a polite nod. I am Marika Lunastello, the Artisan.

    Im Robin, the Merchant, I said before continuing with the introductions. The warrior in red is Soraseo, our Monk, and the man in the wheelchair is Colmar, our Alchemist.

    I am ire, the Cavalier, ire introduced herself, her arms crossed. Where did you learn the Archfrostian tongue? I didnt expect to hear it so far north.

    I learned yournguage decades ago. One of your lords kidnapped me when I was a runt and tried to civilize me. His tutorsshed me whenever I got a word wrong. Mirokald shrugged his shoulders. I guess the lessons stuck.

    ire and I both winced at his tale. Your former captors name wouldnt happen to be Sigismund, would it? I asked him, recalling a tale from our march on the capital.

    Could be. Whoever that lord was, I hope hes dead. Mirokald nced at Colmar. Deader than you at least.

    I do not have much time left, Colmar conceded. He pointed at the City of Wrath with his remaining fingers. Do you know the way to the Deadgate? I would rather avoid perishing on the threshold of this terrible ce.

    Let me grab a bite and Ill lead you to the doorway, Mirokald replied. The Lord of Wrath and his dragons departure caused a decrease in the local monster poption, so we shouldnt encounter too much resistance. Still, the wise warrior does not march on an empty stomach.

    I shall protect you on this journey, Soraseo promised. Nothing in this city can prove worse than the Lord of Wrath.

    For sure, but its no easy walk either. Mirokald seized a boiled fish from his stew and swallowed it whole. This ces power waxes and wanes with the tides of war and peace. So long as hatred endures somewhere, it will keep giving birth to undead and monsters.

    It will fade away one day, I insisted, both for his sake and my own. Though we may not be here to see it.

    It will grow quiet for a few decades, until Zharkov gathers a new horde, Mirokald replied with pessimism. Then a new war will break out and its power will return.

    You know Zharkov? I asked with a frown. It didnt surprise me. The beastman warlord was probably quite famous on this side of the border.

    We spent time in captivity together. Methinks he remembers theshes and punishment more than the grammar and math. Mirokald let out a sigh heavy with pale mist. Zharkov and I escaped together, but we havent seen eye to eye since. Hell never stop trying to make humans pay for what they did to us.

    Zharkov is probably dead, ire noted. Belgoroth annihted the army that he gathered.

    Mirokald snorted. The snow speaks to me, Cavalier. Zharkov and a few of his hardliners live to kill another day. Now that the border with Archfrost is wide-open, hell make a nuisance of himself. He wont have the numbers to inflict much damage, since his followers are probably greatly demoralized by Belgoroths rampage, but he always bounces back eventually. Hell fight to the death.

    The possibility of raids starting again worried me. I doubted it would amount to much since Belgoroths rampage devastated the beastmen tribes and Archfrost was more united than ever, but peace was a fragile thing. I couldnt let a hardliner ruin a once-in-a-century opportunity for both sides of the border to reach apromise.

    Our Priest suggested using her power to make yournds more fertile, and the Knight rules Archfrost, I informed Mirokald. They will listen to beastman ambassadors. If you know any chieftains who would rather make peace than war, you should send them our way.

    Mirokald didnt seem convinced. I try to stay optimistic, but there have been too many broken promises on both sides.

    The people who made them are all dead, I insisted. So why not try with their recements?

    Mirokald shrugged his shoulders. I agree that todays Archfrostians arent responsible for their ancestors crimes against us, no more than I feel guilty that my great-great-great-grandpa fought for one demon lord or another. Unfortunately, you humans hold all the fertilends and wealth, so you have no incentive to share anything with us. Everyone on each side of the border has lost someone too. They wont forgive easily.

    ire squinted at him. If you dont believe in peace nor war, then what is left to put your faith in?

    Mirokald smirked ear to ear. <em>Commerce</em>.

    Whereas his answer left ire speechless, Eris and I couldnt help butugh. I knew the two of you would get along fine, the Wanderer told me. Mirokald is quite forward-minded.

    Interested, are you? Mirokald chuckled. See, we have tribes all around the Autumn Sea, which borders both the Rivend Federation and the Stonnds. So my n was to find something that interests the humans from these regions, ship it to them for gold, and then use the money to purchase fertilends to the south where we can settle; or failing that, resources we can use to be prosperous.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Is that why you spent your time alone so far north, Miro? Eris asked with a wide grin. You were looking to strike gold?

    I was looking for <em>anything </em>useful. An undiscovered strength that could give us the edge. I think I found it. Mirokald lightly knocked on the icy ground. Thesends depths and mountains are rich in gold, iron, gemstones all those pretty babbles that humans cant get enough of. The regions are too inhospitable for any southern kingdom to muster the effort to im them, so we could exploit them ourselves easily enough.

    Marika whistled at his n. So you intend to use your power to find deposits, then exploit them? Thats smart.

    If you cant beat them, buy them, I added.

    And I figured that if you buy people often enough, then youll end up owning them, Mirokald said while scratching the back of his head. At least that was my intent, but Ive encountered a hurdle. My people are more used to hunting mammoths than mining and smelting ore. Finding humans willing to teach and beastmen willing to learn will take a while.

    Eris winked at me. How fortuitous that we have a Merchant of skills among us.

    And he would dly exchange them for preferential prices on your products, I added with a smile. Since this will be a brand new enterprise, I am even willing to defer payments until you strike it big.

    Mirokald stroked his fur thoughtfully. You know, Merchant, theres no guarantee that our descendants wont use their newfound wealth to attack Archfrost in the future. Wait long enough and a bloody fool is sure to stumble his way to leadership. Keeping us beastmen poor would be safer for the southern nations.

    Mayhaps, or perhaps you will build a prosperous civilization that would rather trade with Archfrost than conquer it, ensuring longsting peace. I was willing to take the risk. Moreover, I dont work for Archfrost. I work for the world.

    Ah! Thats an interesting mindset. Mirokald studied me for a moment. But if you work for <em>everyone</em>, can you work for <em>anyone</em>?

    No, I replied firmly. If I find out that you intend to use my skills and goods to fund the likes of Zharkov, you can count me out.

    Good, I wouldnt trust anybody saying otherwise. Mirokald let out a belch and then rose to his feet. Anyway, Im good to go. We can discuss the price of shiny baubles after visiting the Deadgate.

    ire scowled at the City of Wrath, a hand on her swords hilt. Do you know your way through, Hunter?

    I scoured the ce a few times, yes. It contains ancient treasures and magical items modern witchcrafters can only dream of. Few live long enough to take them out of the city, however. Mirokald stretched his arms and legs like a warrior preparing for war. My power lets me find anything, including safe paths. Listen to what I say and well do fine.

    I cant take Beni into this hellhole, nor leave the airship unattended, Marika said with a hint of worry. I will stay behind to look after both.

    I will leave Silverine in your care then, ire said. Her pegasus let out a grunt of protest in response. Im sorry, but Colmars situation will force us to travel on foot.

    I had assumed as much. I turned to Beni, who had but buried himself in the stusks wool. Take good care of your mother in our absence, would you?

    Beni answered with a short, dutiful nod. Mirokald chuckled and muttered something in anguage I did not understand. His stusks trunk immediately coiled around Beni, picked him up, and then gently dropped him on its back. The childs eyes widened with wonder as his titan of a mount rose to its feet and prepared to give him a ride.

    Old-Ma wants to go on a walk, Mirokald said with a heartyugh. The child cane with her if he wants.

    That is very kind of her, Marika said, though she couldnt help but look at her son in concern. Be careful up there, Beni! Dont fall!

    Yes, Mother, he replied softly.

    These two words, these two simple words, were uttered in such a faint voice that I almost believed that I had imagined them. When Marikas head snapped in her sons direction in shock and disbelief, I knew that my ears hadnt deceived me.

    Did he Colmar wheezed, the implications not lost on him. Speak?

    Yes, he did.

    Beni himself didnt seem to realize what he had just done. He simply smiled atop his new stusk mount without a care in the world. He was like a baby taking its first step without understanding its significance.

    Marika did, however. Tears fell down her cheeks, so warm that not even the cold winds of the northernnds couldnt turn them to ice. She looked up at her son with the kind of bliss that inspired artists and melted hearts of stone.

    I put a hand on her shoulder. You werent dreaming, Marika, I congratted her. It happened.

    Im so d, Robin Marika covered her crying eyes. Im sorry The tears wont stoping.

    As they should.

    It had taken a long time, but her sons scars were finally starting to heal.

    The chasm went on forever.

    In stark contrast with the chilling winds beyond its borders, the City of Wraths air was unbearably warm. The acrid smell of smoke and sulfur filled my nostrils whenever I inhaled. My lungs went dry with each exhtion.

    This ce reeked of Belgoroth.

    The Lord of Wrath was gone, but his crimes remained manifest. Each stone of this cursed city bore the marks of the Berserk me and was soaked with blood. We had even stepped past a crimson river flowing through ancient canals. I dared not imagine how many had to die to fill it.

    We had spent thest two hours following Mirokalds directions through the city. The Blight proved even more ominous from the inside than the outside. Broken husks of destroyed archways and shattered towers loomed over ckened streets mired with ancient bones. Defaced statues lined up along pathways leading into smokeless fire pits that burned without fuel. Ghostly lights shed behind cracked windows. Mysterious holesrge enough to put a hand through marked many walls, but I could only see darkness when I dared to peek into one.

    Mirokalds itinerary made little sense to me at first. Many times we ran circles around a building or took detours we could have done without. It was only when I saw a street transform into a dead end that I gathered that the City reshaped itself to hamper our progress. Its malice altered the very fabric of reality.

    While the Hunters power let him find what he was looking for by subtly guiding his steps, he didnt understand the purpose of its instructions. Mirokald was akin to a tracker following a route on an iplete map: his ability told him which turns to take, but it didnt inform him of what awaited him if he went off the beaten path.

    It didntpletely protect him from danger either. Twice we had encountered monsters in the citys spiraling streets; first we faced a set of haunted armors of charred knights and then a crow-headed abomination with mauling des for arms. Soraseo dealt with both threats easily enough at least. None of this ces horrorspared to the Lord of Wrath in threat and power.

    I kept my rapier in hand at each step of our journey nheless. It was hardly necessary, since Soraseo easily cut down the few horrors we encountered in the citys bowels, but I couldnt bring myself to rx. I sensed eyes spying on me at all times and from every direction.

    The City itself was alive. Alive and <em>hateful</em>.

    And the silence The ominous, unbearable silence sent chills down my spine. No ce should be <em>this </em>quiet. I didnt hear a single animal sound or a hint of movement outside our footsteps. This city was a grave so malicious that no life could take root in it.

    <em>This is what Snowdrift would have be if the Knots had won</em>. I nced at the immense pit in front of us: a dark abyssrge enough to swallow the ck Keep in the middle of the City of Wrath, so deep that I couldnt see the bottom. <em>A living nightmare.</em>

    This is where the dragon Xernobog fell when the Glorious Generation killed him, and where it rose up again when the Lord of Wrath awakened, Mirokald exined. He pointed a w at a spiraling staircase leading down into the pit. The Deadgate waits at the bottom.

    We should have taken Marika with us, Erisined softly. It would have made the trip easier.

    I concurred. Eris and I spent most of our journey exorcizing our allies clothes and weapons of foul essence. So great was the City of Wraths evil that a few minutes of exposure would turn our belongings into cursed items or monsters.

    Legends about the Deadgate abounded, but few testimonies remained of it. I understood why now. The City of Wrath killed most of those who tried to uncover its secrets. We would have already gone mad or perished from the foul air without our marks.

    Nothing short of a Hero or a witchcrafter expedition could hope to visit this ce and live to tell the tale.

    Yet Mirokald apparently journeyed here before on his own several times. I nced at his armor and noticed that no curse had taken hold of it. He must have been an expert witchcrafter to shake off the Citys essence without assistance.

    Did you visit the Deadgate on your own before? I asked him. Alone?

    I did, yes. The yeti smirked at me. Im <em>good</em>.

    He was monitoring the ce on Lady Alexios behalf for months, Eris exined. Miro doesnt look like it, but hes just as tough as Corty.

    You wound me, the Hunterined. Im the toughest there is.

    Mirokald led us down the stairway. Wecked the space to stand side-by-side, so he went first. ire followed after while carrying Colmar on her back, leaving the wheelchair behind. Eris and I went after her, and Soraseo closed the march.

    I sweated under my clothes with each step down. The heat was unbearable. A cloud of crimson essence hardly let me see a few feet ahead. I had to hold Eris and ire by their sleeves so as not to get lost in the ominous mist.

    How much time did we spend walking down this narrow path into the earths bowels? I couldnt say yet, though Colmar apparently counted our steps.

    We are past a mile, he said quietly. Deeper than any mine on western Pangeal.

    It goes deeper still, Soraseo replied.

    We are getting close to the bottom, Eris informed us. Do you feel the essence?

    I did. The vile cloud of bloodlust covering the City of Wrath was growing thinner the further we descended. By contrast, I sensed a new flow recing it, pure and immacte; like water pushing oil to the surface. The air was slowly cooling down too.

    At a certain point, the red mist refused to descend any further. Its crimson clouds came to a screeching halt. A strange power repelled it, like a bubble of pure air at the bottom of the ocean.

    We entered it and the red veil cleared.

    The chasms bottom appeared before us in all of its immacte glory. The stairs reached a smooth floor of paved bricks untouched by the mes and cursed blood from above. A vertical rift of bright yellow light faced the end of the stairs. It was taller than any tower and wide enough to let a human through.

    The flow of essenceing out of the rift was so intense that I had to cancel my magical sight. Staring at the gate with it was akin to gazing at the sun unprotected. It would burn my eyes at best or drive me mad at worst.

    This is it, I whispered in awe. The Deadgate.

    A doorway into the Soulforge. A window into the afterlife.

    We walked down the stairs and reached the bottom. The air here was eerily pure and devoid of malice. I suspected that this ce might act as a Sanctuary; a holy chamber in the heart of an evil realm. I found it quite inspiring. No matter how much blood Belgoroth had shed, he couldnt extinguish this one pocket of peace.

    A heavy silence fell upon our group. We stared at the Deadgates light in near-religious awe and fascination, none of us daring to take the first step toward it. Mirokald alone appeared unaffected by this ces majesty.

    Only one person can look into it at a time, he warned us. And stepping through the threshold is a one-way trip.

    Soraseos hand tightened on her swords hilt. She had wished to reach this ce the most among us and thus struggled not to take a look first. However, she was kind enough to nce at Colmar first.

    I would rather observe and gost, Colmar said. Do not worry. I can endure until then.

    I see. Soraseo nodded slightly. I have gratitude.

    Will you take a turn, Eris? I asked my lover. <em>Lover</em>. The word sounded strange, even in my head.

    Eris sadly shook her head. There is no one waiting for me.

    What about us? I replied to cheer her up.

    Eris smiled slightly. Do not die for me, Robin. It will make my life dull.

    Duly noted. Then, I suppose Soraseo can go first, ire next, and Colmar will conclude after me. I turned to Soraseo. Are you ready?

    Soraseo hesitated briefly, then gave me a polite nod and stepped forward. She approached the Deadgate as close as humanly possible without crossing its threshold. She gazed into the light and waited.

    A woman appeared on the other side of the rift.

    Her features were slightly blurred, like the edges of a painting that struggled to withstand the test of time. She was stunningly beautiful nheless, with lustrous raven hair, perfect white skin, haunting eyes, and refined features. Her ck traditional dress bore pictures of flowers and lotus embroiled in its silk. The resemnce with Soraseo was unmistakable.

    This was her mother. A woman in by her own daughter in circumstances that still escaped me.

    Soraseo immediately copsed.

    She kneeled at the figure in repentance, her forehead hitting the brick floor and her hands on the ground. I couldnt see her face, but I heard the sound of tears hitting the floor. She whispered words full of pain and sorrow in anguage I didnt fully recognize. It seemed like a Shinkoku dialect, but one I didnt know.

    The ghost of Soraseos mother answered in the same tongue. Her expression showed no hint of hatred nor condemnation for her daughter; in fact, she radiated warmth and concern. I didnt need to understand her words to gather her meaning.

    Whatever happened between mother and daughter, it wasnt enough to destroy the formers love for thetter.

    I put a hand under my clothes and activated my surprise. It had been a pain to keep it free from essence corruption, but I hoped the result would prove worth the struggle. Everything depended on Soraseos reaction.

    To my relief, my friend found the courage to face her mother with tearful eyes. The ghost lowered her back just enough to meet her daughters gaze and smiled kindly. Whatever she said, it caused Soraseo to wipe away her tears, rise to her feet, and then offer a deep and final bow. Her mothers specter returned the gesture, then faded away.

    Why isnt her father showing up? I wondered out loud. I knew Soraseo felt guilty about his death too.

    Only one ghost shows up for each person, Mirokald exined. You cant tell which one, or why. Maybe its the deads choice. None of those I questioned answered me how it looks on the other side.

    A shame that Soraseo could only make peace with one parent then, but at least she returned to us less burdened than before.

    She forgave you, didnt she? I guessed.

    My heart is heavy, yet light, Soraseo replied, her voice trembling. Her faint smile had a bittersweet edge to it. Has this ever happened to you, Robin?

    Yes, I think so. More times than I could count. Im d you could find peace.

    And I am thankful for your friendship. You helped me when my mind was most troubled. Soraseo raised her hands and looked at them with solemn eyes. I do not see as much blood as before.

    A burden had been lifted off her shoulders.

    ire went next, albeit a little more anxious than Soraseo. She handed Colmar to me and then stepped closer to the Deadgate. Her reflection immediately appeared on the other side of the threshold; or at least, I mistook the woman for ires mirror. The resemnce between mother and daughter was striking. Only the eye color and clothes differed: blue facing gray, armor standing in front of a dress.

    ire gathered her breath and struggled to find her words. Her mother spoke first, but to our shared surprise, no sound came out of her mouth.

    I cannot hear her, ire said, slightly disappointed.

    Ah, I feared it might happen, Mirokaldined. Some ghosts cant speak. I dont know why.

    Do you want me to read her lips? I suggested. Or sell you that skill?

    No need. ire shook her head and smiled at her mother. She understands me. That is all that matters.

    I didnt push the subject further. ire joined her hands in prayer and muttered words under her breath. I was too far away to hear them, but it caused her dead mother to adopt her daughters posture. The ghost vanished soon after and ire returned to us.

    Are you well? I asked her.

    Im fine, ire replied calmly. I just wished for Mother to listen to what I had to say. It is done.

    I see. I didnt ask for more details. Whatever ire said was between her and her mother. I had no right to learn more.

    I prepared to hand Colmar over to Eris when I heard his voiceing out of the suit. Let us go together, Robin.

    Mirokald tried to dissuade him. No ghost will appear for two living visitors.

    I am no longer alive, Colmar replied. If my hypothesis is correct, my presence wont change anything.

    Well we have nothing to lose, I decided. We might as well try.

    I approached the Deadgate while carrying Colmar on my back. The closer I moved to the rift, the fresher the air. I couldnt quite put it into words. The essence that radiated from it sapped my strength and soothed my mind, but not in a way that invited suspicion. The light instead filled my heart with a deep sensation of peace.

    A woman appeared on the other side of the threshold in a robe of immacte sunshine. I could hardly see her features beyond the blurry veil that separated us. Her warm blue eyes felt familiar to me, however, as did her fair hair and gentle face.

    Mother? I asked, my voice dying in my throat. Was that how my mother looked? It had been so long that I had almost forgotten. Is that you?

    The woman smiled at me. She did not speak, however. She didnt even stretch her lips to mimic words as ires mother did. She simply stared at me in utter silence.

    It is as I feared, Colmar whispered in my ear.

    What? I asked in confusion. Whats happening?

    Souls that go to the Soulforge are stripped of their memories and are then reincarnated, Colmar exined. I had wondered how their ghosts could appear on the Deadgates threshold if they are immediately sent into a new vessel. I think I know why now.

    I scowled upon putting two and two together. These are not souls, but their leftover essence.

    Im afraid so, Colmar confirmed. This is not your mother, notpletely. It is an imprint of her mind and memories at the moment of her death. A fleeting frame in time.

    Soraseos mother could speak back, I reminded Colmar. Why cant ires or mine?

    Because Soraseos parent died around a year ago, Colmar replied. More recent echoes have enough consistency to remember their lives and even speak, but old ones like your parents or ires mother are no more than silent images.

    I stared at the image in front of me with a heavy heart. My mother had perished earlier than ires, so what remained of her essence could not answer my questions nor understand them.

    When the dead passed on, only their feelings remained.

    I am sorry, Robin, Colmar apologized.

    Dont be. She doesnt need to say anything. I nodded at my mothers reflection. Her smile speaks louder than any words.

    I could feel her warmth from here.

    Of all of my lifes regrets, not saving her had been the one that weighed most on my mind. If I had noticed her cough earlier If I had spoken up to my father If I had found a doctor that could treat her How many times had I asked myself those questions? My sense of reason knew I couldnt have changed anything, but my heart never epted it.

    Now that Id faced her though Now that I sensed her warmth from beyond the veil of death, I knew that she didnt me me. My parents only ever wished me well.

    I would continue to do good in this world. I would make my mother proud, so when I meet her and Father in another life, I could say that I did my best.

    Your turn, I told Colmar.

    He chickened out at thest second. It has been so long, Robin I doubt I will see anyone.

    You cannot know until you try. I shifted Colmar from my back to my arms. Youve traveled so far for <em>her</em>. You should at least see her face.

    My mothers image disappeared when I moved Colmar closer to the rift. No forlorn soul emerged from the Deadgates light. For a brief instant, I worried that the imprints of Colmars acquaintances had long faded away.

    And then she appeared.

    A small girl, gaunt and scrawny, with shaggy hair and a gentle face. She faced Colmar like my mother did with me, without word nor judgment.

    I heard a noiseing from inside my friends suit.

    A sob.

    I could have saved more Colmar whispered, his voice heavy in bitter sorrow. So many more

    No, no, I said in an attempt to reassure him. Colmar, dont say that.

    You cannot fathom it, Robin the number of lives that slipped through my talons Colmar had no eyes to shed tears with, but his soul cried out nheless. The most terrible thing about being an apothecary is realizing how little we can do to help.

    He felt so heavy in my arms. His suit was an empty pile of leather and steel, yet filled with a century of regrets.

    You have saved thousands, I reassured Colmar. Millions. You have saved generations from the gue and the Lord of Wrath. Countless Lilianes will grow old because of your valor.

    I couldnt tell whether Colmar heard me. His mark faded in and out of existence alongside thest vestiges of his unlife. The ghost of Liliane extended a hand at him from beyond the Deadgate, inviting him to rest.

    Colmar spoke for thest time. I am d I could fly with you.

    The mark on his hand flew away, upward and outside the chasm. His suit suddenly became lighter than a feather. A form appeared behind Lilianes specter, tall and dark. I heard gasps behind me. Soraseo, Eris, and ire all approached the Deadgate at once, forgetting Mirokalds advice.

    Lilianes image did not disappear. In fact, another figure joined her. A tall birdkin with crow feathers and stunted arms. He took Lilianes hand into his talons and stared at us. His red eyes radiated wisdom, intelligence and gratitude.

    Gratitude most of all.

    Thats impossible, Mirokald said in disbelief. First time Ive seen two at once

    Could it be Eris whispered. She struggled to believe her eyes. Is this

    Its him, Soraseo confirmed, her voice solemn.

    It was Colmar. How he looked when alive.

    He and Liliane saluted us onest time, and then they were gone forever.

    We left the City of Wrath by twilight.

    By the time we exited it, Beni hadpleted four tours on Old-Mas back and two on Silverinesmostly because the jealous pegasus insisted, or so Marika told me. She was slightly unhappy to have missed Colmarsst moments, but I didnt think he would have liked to rob her of a chance to reconnect with her son for anything in the world.

    Beni hasnt spoken again since, she told me, But I know he will, soon. I can tell. I have waited over half a year to hear his voice. I can wait a bit longer.

    He has a wonderful voice, I replied kindly. I regretted not catching that moment in a soundstone. He got it from his mother.

    Marika scoffed and lightly punched me on the shoulder. Have you made peace with your past?

    I think we all did. Except for Eris, at least. Still, we could all look to the future without old burdens. Now we must decide where to go next.

    I am not certain myself, Soraseo said. She faced the northern wind and let it blow on her face. I must ponder that question.

    How about the Shinkoku Empire? I suggested mirthfully. Now was the time to unveil my surprise.

    Soraseo frowned at me. I cannot return home, Robin.

    As a matter of fact, you can. Yourte father decreed that you should return with your mother, or not at all. I brought out my secret weapon from under my coat: a soundstone. That promise is now fulfilled.

    Soraseos eyes widened as her mothers voice came out of the stone. Her ghostsst words echoed across the snowy waste like a distant echo, clear and perfectly preserved. Eris covered her mouth and the rest of my friends were left speechless for a brief moment, much to my delight.

    As for Soraseo, she did something I would never have expected.

    She <emughed</em>.

    I didnt recall ever hearing her do so. Not like this; not so loud that she had to hold her sides. It was such a refreshing and musical sound, like a symphony of water.

    I do not believe that this is what my father meant, Soraseo said after calming down. It felt so strange to see someone as straightced as her react this way. I had truly put her in an excellent mood. That alone felt like a great victory.

    Who cares what he <em>meant</em>? I replied with a wink. It is what he <em>said </em>that matters.

    Being a nun, I cannot lie, Eris added. So believe me when I say that the letter of a decree will always trump its spirit.

    Iprehend. Soraseo smiled ear to ear. It will take a very long journey to return home, my friends. Would you kindly escort me there?

    If you dont mind stopping along the way, I replied. Half a dozen nations separated us from the Shinkoku Empire. Not to mention that we would have to find a ce where to bury Colmars suit in a way that honored his memory. Who will join us on this marvelous adventure?

    Do you even need to ask? Marika said with augh, while her son raised a thumb up at me from atop the stusk. Were in.

    Eris settled on a part-time job. I will have to work on Lady Alexios behalf now and then, but I promise to spend all of my free time with you.

    ire pondered my proposal for a moment, only to shake her head. I will stay in Archfrost, she decided. Some of my fathers cultist associates are still atrge, as are Zharkov and other demons. Rnd and Therese will need help in taking them out.

    They will, I conceded. But what then? What happens once you have run out of foes to fight?

    Then Silverine and I will go where the wind takes us. ire caressed her pegasus, who quickly neighed in approval. Fight those who would pray on the weak and cleanse the countryside of demons. Act like a knight.

    You <em>are </em>a knight, ire, I replied. If not in name, then in all the ways that matter.

    ire chuckled. Careful with the ttery, Robin. Eris might take offense.

    I dont, Eris quipped. Practice makes perfect, and I love it when he tters me.

    I mean what I said, ire. I consider myself fortunate to have witnessed ires evolution. The angry, hot-tempered woman who nearly arrested me on our first meeting had blossomed into a confident and valorous warrior. It has been an honor fighting at your side.

    It truly was, Marika confirmed. Its truly a shame that we must part ways.

    I am certain that we will meet again, ire reassured her. I will give you something to remember me by until that day.

    I raised an eyebrow when ire drew her sword. To my surprise, she proceeded to grab her lovely braid and swiftly cut it. Her untied hair fell on her shoulders.

    Here, she said upon offering me her braid. This is for you, Robin.

    Wait, I said, struggling to believe my eyes. You have <em>finally </em>decided to honor your promise?

    Who would be foolish enough to break a Merchants contract? ire replied, her eyes alight with amusement. Take it as a token of my affection.

    I have to say, you look good with short hair. Eris put a finger on her cheek and examined ire closely. A shame I am in an exclusive contract now. Truly a shame.

    A shame, I confirmed. I wasnt against experimenting when in an open rtionship, but the idea made me ufortable when I was trulymitted to someone. I promise you to work twice as hard to fill the void ire left in your heart.

    ire blushed in shock, much to both of our amusement. Please leave me out of this.

    Eris, of course, denied her request. Oh, thats right, your heart already belongs to <em>Therese</em>.

    The two of you deserve each other, ire said in annoyance. I forbid you to do anything scious with my braid. I <em>will </em>know if you do.

    Duly noted, I replied after taking the braid into my hands. I promise I shall treasure it.

    Mirokald let out a grunt. Are you done? We need to bring your ship to a safe ce before nightfall. Otherwise you will find it buried in snow by morning.

    Our ship? Eris put a finger on her lips. Come to think of it, we havent given it a name yet.

    We should decide on one before we go on a new adventure, I confirmed. How about

    Marika immediately put her foot down. I forbid you from naming the ship, Robin. Your picks are always surprising and constantly terrible.

    I was about to suggest <em>Prince Beni</em>, I quipped. Little Beni immediately pped in response. See? He likes it.

    Dont spoil my son, Robin. Marika put a hand on her waist and thoughtfully considered it. How about the <em>Colmar</em>? It is a good name.

    I couldnt agree more. <blockquote><strong>The end of this volume.</strong></blockquote>

 Commerce Emperor News (series plans, Book 2 Stub notice and Book 3 returning in June)

    Commerce Emperor News (series ns, Book 2 Stub notice and Book 3 returning in June)

    Hello everyone,

    It''s been some time! I''m dropping this notice to make a few announcements rtive to <em>Commerce Emperor</em> (I wished to do so a few days earlier, but I''ve been swamped with the end of my break, work on other project and a long ne trip). The break has been a good asion to ponder my new outline for volume 3 and the future of the series, and I would like to share those news with you.

    <strong>- Current ns for the series: concluding the trilogy and making the setting an anthology</strong>

    <em>Commerce Emperor</em> has been on my mind a lot these past few days, especially on how to properly advance with volume 3 after theckluster reception of its predecessors. The break was partly meant to help me stave off my burn out on it and taking some distance let me better figure out where I want to go with it, and I feel taking some distance helped with it.

    While CE did alright on Amazon, it''s well below that of past releases and the number of people following it on Patreon is dwarfed by those who support <em>Blood & Fur</em>. I me a few things like the burn-out on volume 2 and the narrower subject matter, but I''m very much close to an Undend situation with this series where I have a lot of stuff to cover, but other series work a lot better financially for me. I''ve been considering how to resolve that problem and I think I''ve found one.

    So after much consideration, I''ve decided to keep the Pangeal universe as an anthology following multiple heroes; <strong>volume 3 will conclude the Robin''s/Devil of Greed (alongside others like Soraseo''s and Eris'') story arcs</strong>, but not the wider conflict with the Demon Ancestors. This will allow me to revisit the universeter with different leads and plotlines in future series if I decide to do so (such as the Ranger, the Bard or the Mage) while giving the current core character cast a satisfactory ending.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the vition.

    I understand that some of you might be disappointed with this decision, but I feel it''s the bestpromise I cane up with. I think I''ve been a bit overambitious with this series and there are too many moving parts to conclude in that universe to cover everything in a single book, but waning interest makes it unwise to continue it for years on end; as I''ve said a few times earlier, most of my new releases are meant to fund projects like <em>The Perfect Run</em> game (currently in development) and <em>Commerce Emperor</em> is clearly not doing well enough; but on the other end, I don''t want to leave this storyline unconcluded. Finishing the Merchant trilogy and keeping the world open for other heroes and stories seems best at this point.

    <strong>- Volume 2 Takedown at the end of May</strong>My publisher has set a date for <strong>June 13th </strong>for the second volume''s publication on Amazon and Audible, which means <strong>I''ll have to take down the second volume''s chapters by the end of May</strong>. As such, if you want to reread the volume or didn''t have time to do beforehand, now is the time. This is an unfortunate calendar issue caused by my break, but I''ll publish a summary of the series'' first two volumes when I start updating book 3 again in June as a reminder.

    <strong>- Volume 3 resuming in June, though with slower updates</strong>

    I n to resume <em>Commerce Emperor</em> in June to conclude the third book, though releases will be more irregr than before since I''m also working on other series on Patreon and focusing on <em>Blood & Fur</em> for now; expect something like an update every two weeks or something simr, with the first chapter of volume 3 being likely to drop close to volume 2''s amazonunch. My newmerce-focused outline indicates that this book should be around the same length as the first (20 or so chapters) so I hope to conclude the trilogy by the year''s end.

    And that''s all for now. Thank you all for your patience during the break, and I hope you''ll be happy to see this story resume in June.

    Best regards,

    Voidy.

 Chapter Forty-Seven: The Return (+ Book 2s launch on Kindle)

    Chapter Forty-Seven: The Return (+ Book 2''sunch on Kindle)

    <strong><em>- Previous Volume''s Summary</em></strong>

    <em>Chosen as the Merchant Hero, who can buy and sell anything, Robin Waybright has sessfully brought back his hometown of Snowdrift from the brink and prevented its destruction at the hands of the Knot of Wrath. However, his ally and fellow Hero, the Knight-prince Rnd, requests his help in defeating his usurper uncle as a civil war engulfs Archfrost. </em>

    <em>To put an end to Archfrost��s wounds, Robin and his allies travel to the secessionist region of Walbourg, where they meet the Priest, the Druid and the Cavalier; thetter��s death in battle results in her mark passing on to ire, Countess of Snowdrift, who finally renounces her title to be the wandering knight she hoped to be. During this time, Eris the Wanderer reveals her identity as the repentant human half of Daltia, the Devil of Greed; whose long-term plot to create an artifact of human souls threatens all of Pangeal.</em>

    <em>Though a peace treaty is signed and unifies Archfrost once more, the seeds of war have bloomed; Belgoroth, the Lord of Wrath, is unleashed upon the world in a deluge of fire. A cataclysmic battle begins, where the gathered Heroes suffer wounds and losses; but their clever nning lets them prevail by destroying the Lord of War��s prized sword, stripping him of his immortality and imprisoning his malevolent soul. For the first time in seven centuries, a Demon Ancestor has been destroyed for good. </em>

    <em>With Archfrost now free of conflict and ready to heal its wounds, Robin and his allies travel to the Deadgate to honor the Alchemist Colmar��sst request before he passes on. Robin, the Monk Soraseo�Cwho has been revealed to be a lost princess of the distant Shinkoku Empire, Marika the Artisan, Eris and Mirokald the Hunter decide to travel together to hunt down the Devil Coins and put an end to Daltia��s scheme. </em>

    Commerce was the art of turning ephemeral desires into tangible reality.

    ��Excellent,�� I said upon examining the crate��s contents. ��This will sell for over ten times the price.��

    ��<em>Ten</em> times?�� my fellow merchant Morad, a tuskman twice my size and more fur than charm. ��I don��t see the difference with my old wares. It��s just fur.��

    ��And that��s where you��re wrong.�� I grabbed a beaver skin mantle from the crate, exquisitely crafted by artisans I��d personally empowered. ��It��s no longer fur, but a high-quality piece of clothing beloved by noblewomen far and wide. Something they will purchase with gold rather than the silver your current partners pay you with.��Morad scratched the back of his boarlike head. ��I don��t get it.��

    I suppressed a sigh. I wished I could just trade away my business skills as I did my tannery and embroiling ones. This would have made exining how Rivend merchants ripped off their beastmen suppliers much easier.

    Morad wasn��t especially stupid��he was actually quite the crafty adventurer from what I gathered from our discussions��but hecked the necessary understanding of human culture to fully develop his business. Most beastman had no need for clothing since their natural fur protected them from the elements well enough. They sold animal skins hunted in the north because southern traders wanted them, but they lived too far away from the final customer in the chain to understand <em>why</em>.

    ��Human merchants pay you ten silver per beaver skin, and their clothing guild masters sell the mantles made from them at sixty <em>gold </em>a coat,�� I exined. ��How? Because a man who wants to buy a mantle for his wife isn��t buying the fur. He��s paying for prestige, affection, and self-confidence. You��re selling <em>goods </em>when you ought to sell an <em>idea</em>. True ancestral beastman craftsmanship.��

    Morad snorted in disbelief. ��There is no ancestral beastman craftsmanship. We make stuff that works, not things that look pretty.��

    ��But pretty sells better than in,�� I retorted. ��If you don��t have a craftsmanship culture, then <em>invent </em>one. You need to differentiate your tribe��s goods from those sold by yourpetitors in the Rivend Federation. When a customer sees your mantles, they must instantly recognize that they were created by the esteemed beastmen from Greybeach; a name that will soon be associated with quality and exoticism.��

    Morad crossed his arms and pondered my words for a moment. The workshop became almost silent, except for the sound of Little Benicio��s sks as he dragged resins out of a cupboard and applied them to a sleigh which he had built himself. Colmar��s journal and its chemical blueprintsy open on a nearby workbench.

    The people of Greybeach had been kind enough to lend us this facility during our stay in their hamlet, and Marika used her power to improve it quite a bit since. The previously small space had be arge warehouse filled with wooden benches, shelves, and even its own firece. The adjacent building possessed its own furnace too, which greatly enhanced production.

    Crates filled with products meant to be shipped to the Rivend Federation littered the ground: beaver skin mantles, pearl nes, metalwork, and other housewares. A fortune��s worth of luxury goods that would satisfy the southern cities�� refined greed.

    ��You humans don��t have your priorities straight,�� Morad said with a shrug. ��But if people are willing to buy these coats at sixty gold instead of ten silver, who am I to judge?��

    ��I would start with selling them at half that price at Tradewind��s markets,�� I suggested. ��A lower price will let you quickly carve out a clientele, but too low of a price usually signals bad quality.��

    ��And the metalware?�� Morad asked as he reviewed a crate��s contents. ��The southerners buy our pearls and skins in bulk because they can��t fetch them themselves, but they don��t need us to make those.��

    ��There��s arge market for ironmongery and pewter goods, and it is best for your town to diversify while it still can,�� I warned him. ��The fur trade is booming right now because current Rivend Federation fashion puts a high value on fur, but these trends are like tides. Theye and go, and if you don��t return to shore in time they��ll sweep you away into the depths.��

    ��Ah, I understand.�� Morad stroked his mustache. It astonished me that tuskmen could grow them with their snouts. ��We should open many wells in case the big one dries up.��

    A familiar, bestialughter echoed throughout the workshop as its door swung open. ��I��m surprised you know what a well is, Morad!��

    I smiled upon seeing Mirokald the Hunter enter the workshop, closely followed by Marika and Soraseo. Benicio immediately left his sleigh behind to embrace his mother in a warm hug.

    ��I thought you were wasting your time with this one, Robin,�� Mirokald said with a chuckle. ��Morad has more of a nose for beavers thanmerce.��

    ��Says the yeti who can��t find anything without his power,�� Morad joked back. ��What do you have to show for your trip this time, old friend?��

    ��Gold, of course.�� Mirokald flipped a familiar, skull-faced coin at me. ��And adamantine.��

    I caught the Devil Coin in midair and swiftly checked it. Though its reddish eyes continued to disturb me, I was happy to see the cursed artifact back into our hands. Eris would be pleased.

    ��Did you y another demon to get this one?�� I asked with a smile. ��Thest one gave us quite the trouble.��

    Soraseo shook her head. ��We found that one at the bottom of a purse, my friend. The owner���� She frowned. ��Do you say <em>owner </em>when talking about money? I do not remember.��

    ��Money only has spenders,�� I teased her. ��But continue����

    ��The purse��s owner didn��t know the coin��s value,�� Soraseo replied while adroitly sidestepping the grammatical issue. ��Someone else paid him with it.��

    ��The man was a trader provisioning Banefort Ind to the east,�� Mirokald said, his arms crossed in deep thought. ��He was crossing the Autumn Sea on his way to Tradewind when we intercepted him. You should have seen his face when he saw your flying shiping down on him."

    ��I can imagine,�� I replied. The First Generation wished they had an airship to hunt down Devil Coins with.

    Mirokald��s Hunter ss let him find what he was looking for, and the <em>Colmar</em> could travel quickly to nearly any location. Combining both let us efficiently track down the Devil Coins hidden across the Autumn Sea. We had already collected five and dispatched two demons with Soraseo��s help in less than a week��s time; a record number.

    However, I��d begun to notice a strange pattern that left me somewhat concerned.

    ��Can you fetch me a map, Beni?�� I asked my new assistant. Beni obediently grabbed the item from the drawer without a word. The boy still struggled with his muteness, though I��d heard him whisper a word now and then. The sound of his voice brought his mother to tears each time she heard it.

    I unfurled the map and started drawing crosses on it based on where we��d found the Devil Coins, then pointed at their original destinations and through which ces they had transited. Lines and arrows formed around the Autumn Sea; all of them pointing towards a single direction.

    ��You��ve noticed it too, Robin,�� Mirokald said. He must have gathered as much from his power over thest few days. ��These cursed coins were all moving to the southeast when we intercepted them."

    I nodded sharply. ��Two or three would be a coincidence, but five is a pattern.��

    ��Is Daltia pulling them away from the Autumn Sea because she knows we are hunting them?�� Marika wondered.

    I stroked my chin as I checked the map and then shook my head. ��I would be ttered if the Devil of Greed feared us so much, but her coins would have spread out across the region in that case. Instead, they all seem to be converging towards a single spot.��

    ��It could be a feint,�� Soraseo suggested. ��A distraction to lure us out.��

    ��Could be,�� I conceded. ��But these coins are literally pieces of Daltia��s soul. Each one she loses to us brings her closer to defeat, and the further they��ve spread apart, the harder our task. She wouldn��t try to gather them together without a damn good reason.��

    And I could think of a few. My gut told me that a storm of some kind was brewing.

    We had spent thest few days undecided on our next destination. Though Soraseo wished to return home, we couldn��t exactly ignore reports of the Shadow of Envy��s activities in the Arcadian Freeholds. Word of Belgoroth��s final defeat had caused his colleague and the Knots to go underground, but Mr. Fronan indicated in his letters that it was only a matter of time before they resurfaced. I also contacted one of the known world��srgest publishers in the Everbright Empire to fulfill Colmar��sst request of having his journal distributed far and wide.

    <em>So many problems to address with so few hands.</em> I was starting to wonder why the Artifacts didn��t create more than twenty-two Heroes. <em>This world needs hundreds of us.</em>

    I shook my head and banished these thoughts from my mind. I had to show more trust in my colleagues�� abilities. If my group managed to defeat the Lord of Wrath for good��a feat which even the First Generation failed to do��then my fellow heroes could handle the Shadow and their like.

    I knew <em>which </em>Demon Ancestor I should focus on.

    Whatever chaos the Shadow of Envy sowed in the Arcadian Freeholds, it paled before the Devil of Greed��s n to create a fifth Artifact shaped from human souls. Her coins gathering couldn��t mean anything good for the world.

    ��We need to investigate,�� I decided after furling the map. ��Follow the trail wherever it leads.��

    Marika scowled. ��You think this could be rted to her Artifact project?��

    ��I hope not, but we��ve never been that lucky,�� I replied with a grim expression before turning to Mirokald. ��Would you mind traveling south with us for a while? Your power would help us greatly in tracking down the remaining coins.��

    ��Can��t see my people prosper if a demon enves us all, can I?�� Mirokald shrugged. ��Morad and the others already know where the mineral deposits are, so they don��t need my presence anymore.��

    ��We never needed it at all,�� Morad joked. Mirokald lightly pped him in the back of the head for his trouble, much to the tuskman��s amusement. ��We��ll miss you though.��

    ��I know,�� Mirokald replied with a crooked smirk. ��There��s no way I��m leaving Old-Ma behind, however. She��ll need more room to fit in that flying ship of ours.��

    ��Are you sure?�� I asked with some amusement and a great deal of concern. ��She would be the first stusk to fly leagues above the ground.��

    ��And she��ll love it,�� Mirokald reassured me. ��Old-Ma is a tough beast. I��ve never seen anything that could faze her.��

    ��I could add some space on the <em>Colmar </em>for her,�� Marika mused before winking at me. ��How many crates do you n to bring along, Robin?��

    ��Do you even need to ask?�� I lightly patted the nearest one, which overflowed with ivory, pearls, and other luxury goods. ��As much as the <em>Colmar </em>can carry."

    Our cargo would sell for a fortune in the southern markets.

    Now that we had a n in mind, we soon split up to prepare for our trip. Mirokald and Morad left to settle their affairs with the town��s tribal council, Marika and Benicio moved back to the <em>Colmar</em> to set space aside for Old-Ma, and Soraseo helped the local tuskmen load our supplies onto the ship.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    As for myself, I ran a detailed inventory of what we could expect to sell on our way. In total, the <em>Colmar</em> would carry five hundred fur coats, five hundred pearls, one hundred raw gemstones harvested from Mirokald��s hidden deposits, five hundred pounds of ivory, ten tons of ironmongery, and one hundred-fifty logs of timber.

    Since I intended to sell the fur coats at thirty gold coins, I expected a profit of around twelve thousand gold coins after factoring in the usual tariffs on these goods. Gemstone prices crashedtely after Stonnd goods flooded the market, but I could easily earn fifteen to twenty thousand gold from our chest��s contents. By contrast, the price of pearls went up to a record five hundred coins per piece since the embargo on Seukaian goods starved the south of its supply, so our chest��s worth of them could sell at twenty-five thousand. I expected a simr return on our ivory investment.

    By contrast, I doubted we would make more than six hundred gold from the one hundred logs of timber and the ten tons of ironmongery we would also take with us. Southern shipyards might pay more for the former if we ever visited them, but not by much. At least it would pay for our provisions and runestone fuel.

    <em>If I��ve counted correctly, we could earn around ny-thousand gold coins from our total cargo, down to eighty depending on local tariffs in the Rivend Federation and Everbright Empire,</em> I calcted in my head. Thetter two nations were the only ones close and wealthy enough to afford these purchases. <em>Quite the hefty war chest to split between us. ire��s estate earned a quarter of that amount before I came to Snowdrift, and that was in a year��s time. </em>

    All of these expected profits were purely theoretical for now. I doubted I would find enough buyers with deep enough pockets for all the pearls, ivory, and gemstones in a single transaction, and unloading them all at once would crash local market prices. I was better off selling smaller quantities in individual ports and using the profits to buy imperishable goods to sell over at our next destination.

    I already knew where I would invest my excess funds. I heavily believed in the soundstone project and building a facility capable of producing it would demand quite the hefty gold infusion.

    Once I��d finished running the inventory, I left the warehouse to tour Greybeach��s marketce onest time in case I��d missed a good deal. I wanted to leave this ce without any regrets.

    I stepped outside on melting summer snow and walked among robust wooden cottages. Warm light spilled out from their windows and cast a cozy glow on the snow-covered streets as I walked among them. Tuskmen swept snow off their roofs while the seaside wind nketed their walls. A few��the younger among them in particr, who had never seen humans��sent me strange nces now and then, though I didn��t feel any particr malice from them anymore. The locals had been quite reserved when we first arrived, but Mirokald��s support and the services we��d provided since earned us their tolerance, if not their respect.

    A shame we had to leave so soon. I had grown fond of Greybeach over thest few days. This small town, located on the shores of the Autumn Sea which separated the northernnds from the Rivend Federation, was the easternmost beastman settlement in the region. The locals regrly traveled south-east to trade fur and other raw materials to human merchants.

    Which made it the perfectmercial hub to foster the beastmen��s economic development.

    I��d spent thest few days teaching locals how to diversify and improve their production, either by infusing clothes with the necessary skills or personally guiding aspiring merchants like Morad today. I was cautiously optimistic about the town��s prospects. Give it ten years, and I could see it be a key production center for all of eastern Pangeal.

    We had done our part in improving its infrastructure over thest few days as well. I bequeathed Greybeach��s people skill clothes to train their future craftsmen with; Soraseo taught them advanced metalworking techniques, and Marika built furnaces for them to use alongside diving suits to increase their pearl harvests�� yield; even Benicio contributed by helping his mother improve local sleigh designs so the beastmen would have an easier time transporting raw material across the icy wastnd. The gemstone and metal deposits Mirokald found would surely fuel the mes of beastmen industry over the next decades.

    Of course, since any work deserved payment, I��d asked for us to be paid in production surplus. The lion��s share of our cargo came from this transaction, alongside what we��d purchased from our own pockets.

    <em>If Rnd and Therese govern wisely, their neighbors will use their new resources to make goods rather than weapons. </em>I didn��t have too many fears on that front. The letters that ire sent me from Snowdrift indicated that Archfrost was finally taking steps towards making peace with beastmen tribes under Selestine��s auspices. The Priest spent most of her time serving as an intermediary between the two factions, and ire spent her days hunting Zharkov��s remaining marauders in hopes of capturing them.<em> I hope all these efforts will pay off. </em>

    I would likely be dead long before I could see the seeds I��d nted bloom, but the thought of my homnd achieving long-term peace with its ancestral enemies gave me life.

    The crash of waves echoed nearby as I walked closer to the rocky shore. A few trees and bushes broke through the melting snow here and there, adding some green to a palette of white. The port bustled with life with the waning cold, with small boats docking along the wooden pier. A few carried tuskmen pearl-hunters wearing Marika��s diving suits, much to my amusement; these devices helped fill out our own reserve.

    By contrast, the presence of waterkin fishermen among them left me somewhat anxious. One of their tribes sided with Belgoroth��s forces during the Archfrost civil war and nearly routed us back then. Mirokald insisted that Greybeach��s inhabitants were a peaceful lot, but I��d always sensed a feeling of distance whenever I tried to engage with the waterkin in conversation. I��d attempted to make small talk with a few, asking them about life underwater, if they had ever visited other countries, what they liked�� I��d tried to broach a hundred subjects, and nine times out of ten they answered me with a croak and nk stare.

    <em>��Did you expect a frog to think like you, Robin?��</em> Mirokald hadughed at me when I reported my troubles to him once.<em> ��Most use sound frequencies that you humans can��t even hear tomunicate, so you��d have better luck engaging a mute-deaf in conversation. Besides, these guys spend most of their lives underwater and only surface to trade with us now and then. Land struggles hardly matter to them.�� </em>

    <em>A good merchant should be able to talk to everyone and anyone, but I draw a nk at how tomunicate with these people</em>. The Knots managed to do it well enough to secure their assistance in battle, so I knew it was possible. <em>Mirokald tells me they have cities underwater. Perhaps I should take a diving suit and visit them one day, or use a soundstone to trante theirnguage. </em>

    A familiar sound next to me, followed by the sudden appearance of a small cloud and white mist, drew me out of my thoughts.

    ��Is that a deerskin mantle you��re wearing, handsome?�� Eris asked as she pulled her arm around mine. ��Won��t the beavers be jealous?��

    ��I��m an equal opportunity customer,�� I replied with a chuckle, my breath visible in the cold air. That, and the beastmen avoided overhunting local fauna to preserve their environment. Fewer beavers resulted in more floods. ��Is that ermine you��re wearing?��

    ��You like it?�� She put a hand over her coat, whose white texture fit well with her long ck hair. ��This was a personal gift from Lady Alexios herself.��

    ��Did she bless it?�� I joked. ��Can it heal wounds on contact?��

    ��Yes, but only for people I like,�� she replied with the same tone and a wink. ��So you better behave."

    I smiled and kissed her on the cheek. ��I��ve missed our banter, Eris.��

    She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her gaze. ��<em>Only</em> our banter?��

    ��And the rest of the package, of course,�� I teased her before waving a hand at the marketce. ��Would you join me on thisst promenade across this beautiful vige? We��re nning on leaving soon.��

    ��You are, at longst?�� This didn��t seem to surprise Eris. In fact, a slight scowl soon formed on her fair face. ��It��s about my other self, isn��t it?��

    I nodded grimly. It saddened me to ruin her mood this way, but she deserved to know the truth. ��Have you sensed anything?��

    ��Somewhat.�� Eris bit her lower lip, her Wanderer mark��s silver lining reflecting the sunlight. ��I sense her presence at the edge of my mind while I sleeptely. She calls out to me in my dreams, begging me to join her.��

    ��Where?��

    ��I don��t know.�� Eris avoided my gaze. ��I didn��t answer.��

    I couldn��t fault her for it. For all we knew, doing so might open her up to the Devil of Greed��s influence.

    ��Her coins are moving south on their own,�� I warned my girlfriend. ��We can��t tell where exactly, but my gut tells me she��s gathering them somewhere.��

    Eris confirmed my fears soon enough. ��Arcane Abbey spies reported that many demons have started to migrate to the southeast for reasons we couldn��t glean yet. Lady Alexios asked me to investigate.��

    ��We��re already on the case.�� I took her hand into my own, squeezing it in spite of the tension in them. I knew how deeply the prospect of dealing with her demonic self frightened Eris. ��You don��t have to join us if you don��t want to.��

    ��You are kind, Robin, but I can��t avert my eyes forever.�� Eris looked at the cloudy sun with resolve. ��She is me, and I am her. I have to see this through.��

    ��Not alone,�� I reassured her. ��We��ll be there with you. <em>I��ll </em>be there with you.��

    Eris smiled at me, then silently kissed me on the cheek. Her lips warmed me up on this cold summer day, but I could still sense her distress underneath. She had spent most of her new life running away from her past crimes, and now she would have to confront them personified.

    The best I could do for now was to lift her spirit, which I did by guiding her to Greybeach��s marketce. Stands and taverns stood along the docks, the smoke from chimneys mixing with the light mist partially obscuring the Autumn Sea. The <em>Colmar </em>was docked near a pier like any other ship, its wings waiting to take flight at our signal. It made for quite an imposing picture next to smaller boats.

    ��I bear good and bad news, handsome,�� Eris changed the subject as we browsed the stalls. A tuskman offered us warm egg cakes filled with squid, which we dly purchased for a handful of copper. ��Which ones would you like to hear first?��

    ��Can you alternate between them?�� I asked half-seriously after biting into my cake. ��To help me keep a tepid, bnced mood?��

    ��Isn��t tepid just another word for <em>nd</em>?�� Eris teased me with a chuckle. ��I��ll start with the good news then. Lady Alexios agreed to release the Alchemist mark back into the wild today.��

    ��What took her so long?�� I asked with a frown. It had been over a week since Colmar��s final death, and I would have expected the Fatebinder to release his mark back into the world immediately after our friend passed on.

    ��Lady Alexios wished to confirm that exposure to Belgoroth��s essence and the Deadgate hadn��tpromised the mark somehow,�� Eris replied. ��That, and she wondered whether releasing it so soon was wise.��

    I scoffed. At least two Demon Ancestors were active and the others might break out of their seals at any time. ��I would say our current situation warrants all the bodies we can throw at it.��

    ��Silly Robin, marks select the best candidates first and lower their standards with each death.�� Eris nced at my hand, and the coin symbol hidden beneath my glove. ��Cycling through so many Heroes in a single generation��s time is exceptional because each recement is worse than thest. We aren��t finding a century-old master alchemist of Colmar��s standing again anytime soon, if ever.��

    ��Not to mention that we waste time training and organizing the new Heroes, I suppose,�� I guessed. ��Still, the Demon Ancestors are rising one after another, and Belgoroth��s defeat didn��t put an end to their threat. We can hardly wait ten years for a good Alchemist candidate to appear.��

    Eris�� expression noticeably darkened. ��If only <em>that </em>mark was the only cause for concern.��

    My jaw clenched. Her prophesied bad news was just around the corner. ��What��s going on?��

    ��I have discussed a certain matter with Lady Alexios at length, and we both agreed that we required your help to see it through.�� Eris gathered her breath. ��It��s about Mersie.��

    I stopped dead in the middle of the walkway, which caused a surprised waterkin to identally bump into me. He croaked angry words at me in anguage I didn��t understand, then leaped around us.

    I hadn��t heard her name in <em>months</em>.

    ��Mersie?�� I repeated in disbelief.

    ��Mersie,�� Eris confirmed with a slight snort. ��Yes, believe me when I say that discussing how to track down your ex is awkward for us both.��

    That was one way to put it. Mersie and I left on amicable terms, but we still shared some unresolved tension. I��dmitted to Eris since and wasn��t particrly looking to bring in more baggage into my new rtionship.

    Moreover, Mersie had left Snowdrift while consumed with hatred. She was aiming to move to Erebia thest time we met in order to pursue thest living assassin of her family, a retired cultist called Chronius.

    ��She failed her quest?�� I guessed. ��Chronius was already dead, and now she has nothing left to live for?��

    ��Oh no, he��s very much alive. Our dear Mersie is bound to find him at this point and is determined to do so.�� Eris let out a sigh. ��And once she does, either one will kill the other or they��ll both perish. None of these oues will work in our favor.��

    Her wording raised an eyebrow. ��<em>None</em> of them?�� I repeated. ��Not even if Mersie ys Chronius?��

    ��No, it won��t help us.�� Eris scratched her cheek, her eyes deep in thought. ��Chronius is�� How to put it����

    I waited for her to find her words when I noticed a light rising to the southwest.

    Mount Erebia, as befitting of the mountain where the Goddess once descended to create the world, could be seen from nearly anywhere in Pangeal. There the Fatebinder oversaw the Arcane Abbey��s destiny and the safety of the Heroes�� marks. All had been attributed, save for one.

    A silver star rose from the mountain��s top and surged across Pangeal��s skies.

    While Greybeach��s beastmen immediately gathered near the shore to take a better look at a chorus of shouts and croaks, I held my breath in solemn silence. My friend Colmar��s mark was finally returning to the world in search of a new holder.

    ��Who do you think the new Alchemist will be?�� Eris asked with a mischievous smirk. ��I��m betting on some recluse who hasn��t seen the light of day in years.��

    ��I��m an open-minded person,�� I replied as my eyes trailed after the silver star. ��But I would take almost anyone over Florence of Arcadia.��

    Thankfully, the Alchemist��s mark appeared to agree with my assessment. The silver star copiously avoided Archfrost and instead moved in apletely different direction.

    Namely, ours.

    I watched in astonishment as the Vassal Hero��s mark aimed straight for the Autumn Sea, and then utter disbelief when it started to descend upon Greybeach��s region specifically. The irony amused me slightly.

    ��This mark seems intent on selecting beastmen bearers,�� I mused. ��First Colmar, now someone from here.��

    ��It seeks a soul marked by tragedy and disaster,�� Eris replied softly. ��The Alchemist represents transformation, upheaval, and sudden change. This ss always finds a home in broken ones taught by adversity. The smarter the better.��

    I tried to think of anyone I��d met in the town who would fit these criteria and drew a nk. A week wasn��t long enough to learn a thousand souls�� personal stories. The silver star��s trajectory bent towards the docks.

    Towards the <em>Colmar</em>.

    My eyes and those of Eris widened in recognition. We immediately ran towards our airship before the crowd of beastmen could do the same. This could be a mere coincidence and cosmic irony��Colmar��s old mark seeking someone near his namesake��but my mind and instincts put forward a candidate that would fit Eris�� description twice over; a broken soul marked by terrible tragedy.

    The marks chose candidates ording to their own whims and <em>anyone </em>would be found wanting as an Alchemist in Colmar��s shadow. Could his old ss select someone who had no business being anywhere near a battlefield merely because they had great untapped potential?

    <em>It wouldn��t dare! </em>I rushed towards our airship as fast as my legs could carry me. <em>Goddess, please choose someone else!</em>

    The silver star hit the area near the <em>Colmar </em>in a sh of bright light, crushing my hopes.

    In stark contrast with the shouts of the beastmen crowd along the dock, an eerie silence had fallen upon our airship��s pier. Soraseo, Mirokald, and a handful of beastmen surrounded Little Benicio, whoy on the ground on his back, his skin paler than chalk. Marika examined her son��s left hand with a mouth open in disbelief and eyes wide with horror.

    A silver symbol glowing on Benicio��s skin: a sk bound inside a snake eating its own tail and marked with the Erebian number for sixteen.

    I��d said that I would take nearly anyone else over Florence of Arcadia for our new Alchemist. I now cursed my willy tongue. The Goddess had heard my prayer and turned it into a cosmic joke of epic proportions.

    Benicio Lunastello, a mute, traumatized boy not even a decade old, was our new Alchemist.

    I was short on witty words, and could onlye up with one.

    ��Shit,�� I said.

    <strong>A/N</strong>

    Hi guys, I released this chapter today instead of yesterday to coincide with theunch of <em>Commerce Emperor''s</em> second volume (following the civil war arc all the way to the final battle with Belgoroth) on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited(and thus avoid a double-post). As usual, I would like to thank you all for supporting this book during its creation.

    Link: /amazon/B0CWHJV1B5

    Like always, I would appreciate any review on Amazon or anyone''s help in spreading word of theunch, especially since the first volume didn''t sell all that well and the next book will be the trilogy''sst.

    See you soon,

    Voidy.

 Chapter Forty-Eight: The Bullseye

    Chapter Forty-Eight: The Bullseye

    ��Buy it back,�� Marika ordered me. ��Buy it <em>back</em>, Robin.��

    I sank back in my seat. This conversation was going about as well as I��d expected; namely, terribly. The air in the captain��s cabin had grown incredibly tense, with Eris fidgeting ufortably, Beni keeping his head down, and Soraseo standing still like a statue as she pondered what to do.

    Mirokald was behind the steering wheel, his eyes set on the window separating us from the clouds outside. It hadn��t taken him long to learn how to pilot the <em>Colmar</em>. I suspected he used his Hunter power to immediately find which lever he needed to pull.

    I was thankful for his expertise. Marika was in no mental shape to perform her usual piloting duties.

    We��d left Greybeach immediately after Benicio received the Alchemist��s mark; both to catch up to Mersie in time and to protect the boy from any unwee attention. Morad and Mirokald had sworn the few beastmen who saw him inherit the ss to secrecy, but someone was bound to slip up sooner orter.

    At least Greybeach was quite remote from human poption centers. The Knots�� agents in the Rivend Federation might never hear of the event.

    But how long could we keep that up? Our enemies knew a new Alchemist had been chosen the moment the mark left Mount Erebia and would be on the lookout for Colmar��s recement. The Knots likely allocated enormous resources to keep tabs on us; a mere glimpse of Benicio using his power would let them connect the dots.

    Marika was right to worry for her son��s future. The truth <em>would </eme out.

    ��Marika, you know very well that I cannot do that,�� I reminded her. She understood my ss�� limitations almost as much as I did by now, but motherly carepelled her to explore <em>any </em>alternative. ��The marks are loans, not gifts. I can��t buy or sell them away.����Then the Fatebinder should take it back!�� Marika insisted, her tone rising, her arms protectively wrapped around her son with the grip of coiling snakes. Beni looked terribly ufortable sitting on his mother��sp, but he was too shy to move an inch. ��That��s why the Artifacts created her ss, did they not? To take back the marks when they pick wrong!��

    ��There is no error,�� Eris replied with a sigh. She sympathized with Marika��s plight, but she understood sses the best among us and their intentions. ��Not with these things. The marks�� choices may often be questionable, but they��re never outright wrong.��

    ��He��s <em>nine</em>.�� Marika seethed through her teeth. ��<em>Nine</em>, Eris. You were there for his birthday!��

    ��I have no understanding either,�� Soraseo said. ��Beni is a brave boy, but he is too young to fight. He cannot defeat demons.��

    ��He won��t have to fight them at all,�� I said in an attempt to reassure Marika. ��The likes of us perform better at the rear.��

    The Alchemist and Artisan both descended from my own Merchant ss, which was meant to y a support role for their fellow Heroes and the world atrge. My one-sided fight with Belgoroth��if I could call having three of my limbs sliced off in a second��s time a ��fight����solidified that impression. I would never be a warrior in the same league as more martial-oriented Heroes, nor was I expected to be.

    I was meant to spread skills, wealth, and knowledge to those who required it; to help them unleash their full potential and push themselves even further beyond. That same responsibility befell my Vassal sses.

    ��The Artisan and the Alchemist are sses meant to build and create,�� Eris agreed. ��You and Colmar fighting on the frontline was an anomaly; a desperate measure to deal with an exceptional situation.��

    Marika scowled in despair. ��You are very kind to mince your words, Eris�� but you know better.��

    Eris joined her hands, shifted in her seat, and failed to answer.

    We all knew better indeed.

    Colmar��s power was the main reason we managed to immobilize Belgoroth long enough for Rnd tond the final blow. If he hadn��t fought��and paid the ultimate price for it��then all of Archfrost would be nketed in mes by now.

    And if another Demon Ancestor rose to threaten the world, Beni might have to put his life on the line to save it. That was a Hero��s duty to those who couldn��t protect themselves.

    ��You must tell Lady Alexios to remove the mark,�� Marika all but ordered Eris. I��d never seen her so forceful with a friend. ��The Fatebinder can do that, can��t she?��

    ��She can,�� Eris confirmed with a grim expression, her gaze settling on Benicio. ��But he would not survive.��

    I feared she would say that. Marika paled and closed her eyes in defeat, while her son remained nk-faced. I had no idea what thoughts crossed his mind. It was too heavy of a burden to put on a child��s shoulders, especially someone who had suffered as much as Beni.

    ��Why?�� Soraseo dared to ask.

    ��Because the mark binds itself to the user��s soul,�� Eris exined. ��Why do you think Colmar could inherit one as a ghost? Once a ss bonds with its chosen Hero, only their final death can separate them.��

    Marika suppressed a sob and wiped newborn tears from her eyes. Her son looked up at her in concern, as did I.

    Marika had nearly lost her son to a demon once, and now, they would hunt him down for the rest of his life. Any mother worth their salt would tear up in anguish, even someone as strong as her.

    ��Marika�C�� I said, but she didn��t let me finish

    ��Why Beni?�� she muttered to herself. ��Why my son?��

    Eris let out a heavy sigh. ��I don��t have easy exnations since the sses follow their own logic, but I wager that he was chosen because of his future potential. The mark likely senses he has the moral character and intuition to make good use of his power.��

    ��Your son is especially bright, Marika,�� I said. ��Beni��s not even ten, but he��s assisted Snowdrift��s shipbuilders, showed great potential in the art of witchcrafting, and deciphered Colmar��s notes on resin. He��s�� smart. Very smart.��

    ��Plenty of people are smart, Robin,�� Marika protested. ��Why my son over�� I don��t know, <em>anyone else</em>?��

    ��I can��t tell, Marika,�� I lied gently. ��I don��t think any of us can answer that question. The mark alone knows.

    In truth, I had a pretty good idea why Beni was picked.

    Marks chose people wronged by cultists and demons as a priority, since they would possess the required motivation to hunt them down. sses wanted Heroes who would go out of their way to confront our malevolent ancestors and their servants. What better pick than Beni then, who had nearly died at the hands of a demon��his own twisted father��and was the son of an already established Hero? He was already surrounded by allies who could teach him about his power, protect him until he reached maturity, and guide him forward.

    We had inadvertently turned Beni into a Hero��s seed.

    I wisely kept that information to myself. To tell Marika that her son was partly chosen because of her would devastate my friend more than she already was.

    ��The Knots will never stoping for him,�� Marika muttered in sorrow, her gaze lingering on her son��s mark. ��This symbol should be a bullseye rather than a sk.��

    ��On my de and honor, I swear that no one shall harm your son in my presence, Marika,�� Soraseo promised; a weighty oath, whening from a woman who��d dared face the Lord of Wrath in openbat. ��I shall see no wound opened on him.��

    Mirokald, who had remained squarely focused on the sea of clouds, voiced his thoughts. ��Morad can hold his tongue, and he��ll ensure the others keep quiet,�� he told Marika in an attempt to reassure her. ��Your boy��s secret is safe so long as he keeps his head down.��

    Eris�� lips twisted into a sad half-smile. ��Is that all you have to say, Miro?��

    ��If I have nothing to say, Eris, then I don��t say anything,�� Mirokald replied with a snort. ��I don��t share Robin��s impulsive need to fill the void with words.��

    ��How can you expect to be good with them if you never practice then?�� I quipped back. ��The tongue is like any other muscle. Waste it and it will atrophy.��

    ��Use it too much, and you��ll get a cramp,�� Mirokald countered before shrugging his shoulders. ��I think that you should ask what the boy thinks. He��s the one with the mark, not us.��

    His appearance and blunt manners often made me forget that Mirokald was quite the shrewd and wise yeti. He was right. I had been so focused on helping Marika calm down that I��d forgotten to reassure Little Beni himself.

    I stared at the boy. His big eyes carried far more solemn maturity than any boy his age should. His father��s betrayal and his mother��s struggles had forced him to confront the world��s ugliness way too early.

    ��Beni?�� I asked him. ��How are you feeling?��

    Beni bit his lip, his expression thoughtful. His mother had told me the way he smiled when she received the Artisan��s mark, and I could see a flicker of the same pride in him even now. Like many children his age, he had dreamed of bing a Hero; the fact Marika had been chosen only reinforced that impression.

    But he had lived through Florence��s attack on Snowdrift and Archfrost��s civil war, helped tend to our wounds after Belgoroth nearly killed us all, and read Colmar��s journal. He understood that being a Hero meant dancing with death.

    Beni raised his hands to answer me with signs, but he didn��t go further than forming the word ��want.�� He looked up at me, then at his worried mother, his gaze harshening into an expression of resolve.

    ��I����

    I straightened up in my seat, as did Marika. The rare times when we heard Beni��s soft, quiet voice never failed to startle us.

    ��I want to help�� Mom, Uncle Robin���� Beni whispered quietly, his voice struggling toe out of his throat. He had grown better at oveing his psychological block, but it still demanded from him much effort. ��Everyone�� I want to help <em>everyone</em>.��

    How could a boy so small have such a big heart?

    ��Beni, this is not a game,�� Marika said, her voice breaking in concern. ��The people we��re fighting�� they��re not fairy tale viins. They won��t hold back because you��re a child, Beni. They��ll try to kill you whenever they get the chance.��

    Beni nodded slowly. No doubt he remembered how his own failure of a father drove a demonic sword through him in an attempt to sacrifice him to Belgoroth. That moment would forever haunt him.

    Yet Beni had inherited his mother��s courage. He didn��t falter in the slightest and quickly answered Marika��s words with quick hand-signs.

    ��I��ll fight if I must,�� I tranted. ��Like you do, Mom. I want to protect you like you protect me. I��m not afraid. I won��t hide.��

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    His mind was set, and I respected that.

    Marika looked into her son��s eyes with a frown, but Beni didn��t falter nor relent. He had inherited her stubbornness.

    I think it reassured his mother a little. She felt deep concern for her son��who wouldn��t in her situation?��but the fact that he reacted with courage instead of fear warmed Marika��s heart. She was proud of him as much as she was fearful for his safety.

    ��Okay���� Marika took a deep breath. ��Okay, Beni.��

    The situation didn��t sit well with her, but she would try to make the best of it; as would we all.

    ��You are strong,�� Soraseoplimented Beni, which drew a smile from him. ��And very brave.��

    ��You will need to wear gloves whenever you go outside, little big man,�� I warned him. ��Don��t reveal your ss to anyone who isn��t another Hero, <em>ever</em>. Do you understand me?��

    Beni nodded sharply. He was a dutiful boy and learned the value of caution. He would follow our guidelines. He quickly followed up with a few hand-signs.

    ��Yes, you can make an adamantine sleigh if you want,�� I replied with a chuckle. ��We��ve got some spare stuff you can test your power on.��

    ��You should both get some sleep,�� Mirokald told Beni and Marika. ��It��s gettingte, and I wager we still have a good night��s flight before we reach our destination.��

    ��You��re probably right,�� Marika replied after scratching her head. ��I��ll see more clearly tomorrow.��

    Mother and son prepared to retire to their rooms, leaving the rest of us to take care of our flight.

    ��Marika, Beni,�� I said as they reached the pilot��s cabin door. They both turned to stare at me. ��Everything will be fine. We have your back.��

    For the first time since her son inherited his mark, Marika cracked a small smile. ��Thanks. Same.��

    Mother and son left the rest of us to retire back in their quarters, and likely to help Beni practice with his powers while at it. I turned my gaze to the front window and the world beyond. The skies of Erebia��s sacrednds reminded me of a sea of golden clouds with stone peak inds rising from its depths. A dense chain of mountains surrounded the country and had protected it from invaders since times immemorial. Mount Erebia itself overshadowed them all, its immense frame casting a dark shadow under the twilight sun.

    The sky didn��t belong to us alone. Wyverns, griffins, and other winged beasts that considered these mountains their homes flew at a healthy distance away from us. Having never seen an airship before, these mighty predators gave us a wide berth the same way sharks avoided a great whale��s path.

    ��Have you picked up a lead on either of them?�� Eris inquired.

    ��I��ve found them both,�� Mirokald replied as he slightly shifted the steering wheel. The <em>Colmar </em>bumped slightly as we encountered turbulence. ��It��s quite easy. My power points in the same direction whether I focus on one or the other.��

    ��Wisepeak?�� I asked.

    ��Wisepeak.��

    Jean-Chastel imed that Chronius retired to Wisepeak on his deathbed. This city was one of thergest centers of learning in all of Pangeal and the headquarters of the Arcane Abbey��s infamous Inquisition branch. Both Eris�� intel and Mirokald��s power pointed in its direction.

    Nheless, Mersie wouldn��t have struggled for so long to find Chronius�� trail if he lived within the city��s walls under his own name. Chastel mentioned that he��d traded his weapons for a farm, so I bet that he lived somewhere in the mountainous countryside under a false identity.

    ��That��s not good news,�� Eris said with a scowl. ��Mersie must be closing in on Chronius�� location. I might have to teleport to them soon, for what little good it will do.��

    ��Will you tell us why we should keep Mersie away from Chronius now?�� I asked Eris. ��I still wonder why Lady Alexios would want us to save a former cultist��s life.��

    I suspected he turned coat and provided vital information to the Arcane Abbey in exchange for a form of protection. However, Eris�� clear reluctance to answer caused me to reassess my judgment. Chronius�� secret had to be pretty important for her not to open up to us about it on the spot.

    <em>Eris keeps everybody��s secrets</em>, I remembered. A wild possibility formed in my mind, which my lover soon confirmed.

    ��Chronius has a mark,�� Eris confessed.

    Silence fell upon the captain��s cabin. Soraseo��s hands tightened on her sword, and even Mirokald briefly looked over his shoulder in disbelief. My hands gripped my armrests. This wouldn��t end well.

    ��Which one?�� I asked immediately.

    ��The Archer,�� Eris replied. ��One of the Rogue''s Vassals, the one who never misses their mark.��

    Soraseo sneered in disgust. ��A cultist and assassin, a Hero?��

    ��You��ve seen Corty,�� Eris reminded us. ��He hasmitted more atrocities than most demons, but the Inquisitor ss found him worthy anyway. sses give second chances�� even to those who hardly deserve it.��

    I didn��t fail to pick up on the slight hint of guilt in her eyes. Eris hadmitted great and terrible sins too, yet her mark still chose to give her a second chance. If a Demon Ancestor could turn their life around, why not one of their former worshipers?

    But Mersie would never allow that, and I couldn��t me her for it. She had lost her entire family to the Knot of Wrath. She had been forced to hide in a secret passage and watch as thete Chastel��s band ughtered her parents, her friends, and her staff. If I were in her ce, the mere idea of one of these assassins being left off the hook would be revolting to me.

    How did Lady Alexios and Eris expect me to settle things between these two <em>peacefully</em>? I rehearsed a hundred scenarios and couldn��t imagine one that wouldn��t end in bloodshed.

    ��I tried to convince Mersie to let it go and Chronius to run away somewhere else,�� Eris informed us. ��Neither listened.��

    ��What did you tell her exactly?�� I inquired.

    ��The truth. That her target has be a Hero and tried to turn his life around.�� Eris crossed her arms. ��She replied no life was long enough to make up for what Chronius did, and that his ss would find a better recipient once she killed him.��

    Of course Mersie would answer that way. Avenging her family had been the driving force in her life, the very purpose of her existence. It had given her the patience to infiltrate Sforza��s organization for years, to forget herself in a false identity, and to confront inhuman monsters such as Chastel. She had invested too many years of her life to stop now, no matter how pointless or detrimental it would be.

    In fact, I suspected that Mersie never stopped to imagine what life awaited her after shepleted her revenge. She had dedicated her whole being to itspletion; she would pursue it to the very end because she would have nothing left if she stopped now.

    How could I force her to stop and think this through?

    ��What can you tell us about Chronius?�� I questioned Eris. If I could gather more information on him, I might see a solution.

    ��Not much.�� Eris scratched her cheek. ��He��s been a part-time Hero so far. He lives in a remote ce so he has mostly focused on mundane threats. Bandits, wandering monsters, the asional assassin barging down his door����

    ��He has dealt with assassins,�� I said. ��But can he deal with <em>the </em>Assassin?��

    Eris scowled. ��Lady Alexios doesn��t want to find out.��

    And neither did I.

    Heroes shouldn��t fight each other.

    His arrow struck the ck wyvern true from two thousand feet below.

    The projectile punctured the beast��s eye with lethal precision, the essence-enhanced tip worming its way to its brain. The animal let out a quick and furious roar of agony as it lost control of its flight and plummeted into the earth below. Its body soon smashed into the bushes with a loud crash.

    ��Amazing strike, Father!�� Erika congratted him after lowering her binocrs. She cautiously approached the corpse as he taught her to, checked that the beast had indeed perished, and then brought out the bonesaw to sever its head. ��Another one down for the count!��

    ��One arrow, one kill,�� Chronius replied calmly. Unlike his daughter, he hadn��t needed binocrs to see the beast; nor a left eye to shoot with.

    His daughterughed at his remark. ��It��s not like we can afford two, considering that arrow��s price,�� she said after cutting off the ck wyvern��s reptilian head and stuffing it into her bag, where it joined two other freshly cut off skulls. ��I wish cktalons would fly closer to the ground though.��

    So did Chronius. He worked better with knives than arrows.

    cktalons were a new and highly aggressive race of wyverns that attacked people in the area. He��d heard this was the Beast of Sloth��s work, though he med her Knot instead. The true Ranger��s followers loved to breed new horrors in the wild and then unleash them on civilization.

    Whatever their source, cktalons�� depredations and resistance to domestication caused Erebia��s authorities to put a price on their heads. The Arcane Abbey was wary of letting them proliferate and chase away the smaller domesticated wyverns.

    Unfortunately, cktalons spent most of their time high in the sky and only descended to hunt. Most armed parties focused on hunting down their nests and smashing their eggs, but Chronius preferred to shoot them down in midair. He had to pay top coin for enchanted arrows both capable of reaching the beasts so high in the sky and piercing through their thick-scaled hides. The price he earned from their heads barely covered the costs.

    He didn��t care though. Hunting these monsters satisfied the <em>urge </em>and indirectly saved people, in more ways than one.

    ��That��ll be enough for today,�� Chronius decided as he lowered his bow and put it over his cloak. He sensed the steel under the leather pressing against his chest. His true teethy hidden, waiting to bite. ��Let��s go�C��

    His spine stiffened suddenly. His lone right eye nced to his left at the rolling hills and ancient trees surrounding them. The countryside was quiet, save for the song of the wind blowing between rustling leaves. The air was crisp with the scent of pines.

    <em>So that��s how it is, </em>Chronius thought as he gazed at the sunset. <em>T��was about time.</em>

    His daughter noticed his unease. ��Father?��

    ��Erika,�� he said without sparing his daughter a nce. ��Return home without me.��

    ��Huh?�� His daughter raised an eyebrow in his direction. ��Why?"

    ��I wish to stop at the old church to pray,�� Chronius replied calmly. He had no idea when his stalker would strike, but the fact that they hadn��t yet meant that they didn��t want any witnesses. He would indulge them. ��I might not return tonight.��

    ��No way���� His daughter blushed, her eyes alight with amusement. ��Do you have a <em>date</em>?��

    ��A date?�� Chronius scoffed. ��Yes�� you could say that.��

    A date with Death herself.

    ��Is it Madame Hypatia?�� Erika asked before quickly regaining herposure. ��No, wait, don��t tell me. I love surprises.��

    <em>You won��t love this one, </em>Chronius thought, though he entertained her fantasy. Erika kissed him on both cheeks, wished him good luck, and then had him promise to return home before morning. That was an oath he was unlikely to keep.

    Most fathers would worry about their daughters of sixteen returning home alone with a handful of weapons and a bag filled with wyvern heads, but Erika could defend herself. He had taught her well.

    Unlike Chronius himself, who hadn��t aged well, Erika had bloomed into a pretty flower with short brown hair, amber eyes, and a smile that melted the hearts of Wisepeak��s men. She was bright too, and studying to be an apothecary. Chronius was setting money aside so he could have a good tuition ready for her once she reached her sixteenth birthday.

    Many wondered if they were rted at all, since father and daughter looked nothing alike; and they were right to think so. Strangers oftenpared Chronius to an old scarecrow: lean, gaunt, and mean-looking. A ck eyepatch covered his damaged left eye and the mark underneath, while the right one was an icy shade of gray. He was getting on his years with six decades under his belt, his face riddled with wrinkles and white hair falling to his shoulders like a wizened lion��s mane.

    But his skills never dulled. Never for a second. Monsters and the asional assassin kept him sharp.

    Would they be enough today? The Wanderer had advised him to pack his things and flee rather than stand up and fight, and his stalker had in Chastel. He could sense her killing intent and sheer hostility hanging in the air.

    Chronius pretended not to notice and walked along the rolling hills until he reached an abandoned stone bridge. Moss and creeping vines covered the once sturdy structure, but it still arched gracefully over a small serene river. A rugged old church stood on the other side on a lonely rock tform, its rugged facade partly crumbling. This ce used to be the local ce of worship centuries ago until the people of Wisepeak raised new ones closer to their city. Only a handful of people visited it nowadays, mostly to pay their respects to their ancestors buried there.

    Chronius had no one waiting for him there, but he liked the ce. It was quiet and peaceful. He��d asked Erika to put a tombstone for him there once he passed away. The name written on it, <em>Alcibiades</em>, wouldn��t be his true one; but it was the one he would rather be remembered by.

    Chronius walked the entire length of the bridge until he stood near the church��s broken gates, then stopped to examine it more closely. His power ensured that his projectiles would always hit their target, but it also carried other benefits. His depth perception, partly gone with the loss of his left eye, had returned; and his already legendary precision had only increased.

    ��They said,�� Chronius dered out loud, ��that when the Goddess crafted the Rogue ss, she intended for her chosen champion to value what they would steal. She gifted envious Shamshir with eyes that could see the true beauty of everything.��

    His stalker didn��t answer. Her boots didn��t even make a noise as she walked along the bridge after him with murder on her mind.

    ��I now see details I never noticed before,�� Chronius said, his gloved hand tracing a line along the church��s ancient wooden doors. ��The patterns on flowers�� petals. The tiny cracks on stones. The thinyer of dust blown by the wind����

    ��If you see so many things,�� she answered with a voice colder than Archfrostian ice, ��Then do you remember my face?��

    Chronius turned around to take a good look at her.

    His pursuer stood on the bridge, her travel cloak and golden hair fluttering in the wind. She was a few years older than Erika, slim, slender, with the grace of a panther and the dangerous allure of a venomous flower. It was her sapphire eyes that caught Chronius�� attention though; and that familiar, intense stare of overwhelming <em>hatred </em>he had seen in his many victims.

    He recognized her face instantly, alongside that vague feeling resonating through his own mark.

    ��Yes. I do,�� Chronius replied. ��I knew you woulde here one day, daughter of Salvadoreen.��

    He had known even before the Wanderer warned him that the Assassin would take his head should he stay near Wisepeak. She had urged him to take Erika and flee somewhere else. He had denied her request.

    Chronius was done running.

    ��Good.�� The woman revealed the dagger hidden under her sleeve. Its edge glittered in the dying sunlight. ��I wanted you to know who did you in. That what��sing to you is justice for your sins.��

    Chronius let out a heavy sigh. He thought he could leave the past behind, but that had been a foolish dream. ��Would it change anything if I said I regret everything?��

    ��No, it wouldn��t.�� The Assassin sneered in absolute disgust. ��If you truly regret it, then justy down and die. I��ll gut you quickly.��

    ��I thought so.�� Chronius threw away his bow and quiver, then opened his jacket. ��I��m sorry, girl, but you��ll find nothing <em>easy </em>about this hunt of yours.��

    The woman looked at the twin bandoliers strapped to his chest. Dozens of knives were sheathed there, waiting to be unleashed. That was his grim life��s work; an arsenal of weapons umted over decades of murder.

    His <em>teeth</em>.

    ��I would have granted your wish once,�� Chronius admitted. ��But I have something to live for now.��

    He didn��t ask her to stand down and let bygones be bygones. He could see in her hateful gaze that his words would fall on deaf ears. She hade for his blood, and she wouldn��t leave until it was shed.

    The Archer grabbed his knives as the Assassin lunged to take his life.

 Chapter Forty-Nine: Interlude: The Archer & The Assassin

    Chapter Forty-Nine: Interlude: The Archer & The Assassin<ul><li>

    <em>Fifteen years ago, City of Goldport in the Rivend Federation. </em></li></ul>

    In the city of explorers stood a house that never slept.

    Located on Goldport��s famous docks, where ships from all across the world gather to flood the continent��s markets with foreign wares, the two-floor building didn��t look like anything out of the ordinary. The <em>Sunset House</em> catered to visitors eager to put their hands on imported goods from beyond the sea: Fire Ind masks, Shinkokan swords, Iremian runestones�� this ce offered a taste of the exotic to bored people whocked either the funds or the spirit to explore the world themselves.

    The official owner, a wizened Iremian immigrant called Menmose Qar, paid his taxes on time alongside a private ��contribution�� to the city watch. Soldiers believed his establishment to be a mere smuggler��s den, and it was, in a way. Many Knot deliveries transited through the <em>Sunset House</em>.

    But if authorities had dared to check, they would have noticed it hanging in the air.

    The smell of blood.

    People always hung out around the <em>Sunset House</em>, but the true clients, the ones the establishment <em>truly </em>catered to, only gathered on Knightday nights. Menmose would wee them with smiles and refreshment, then invite them into the secret underground cove below through the hidden trapdoor. There they would find a vast basementyered with stones and adorned with symbols of zing swords. Soundproof walls prevented the noise of war drums from reaching the surface, while a great smokeless brazier lit up the darkness. Lookouts and hefty bribes would ensure that no one would disturb the clientele. There they would chat and dance all night.

    But sometimes, the true owners would bring in a ��guest�� and a secret show would begin. Tonight was one of those nights.A crowd of fifty had gathered for the asion. Most of them were regr patrons, but a few were new recruits who would soon have the opportunity to join the ranks of the initiates. A hefty blend of drugs, alcohol, and music had driven them all into a frenzy�� with one exception.

    Unlike hispatriots, Chronius hung back in a corner and observed the celebration from afar. He didn��t drink or smoke; he had seen the degradations they dragged men into. His body was a temple, and he would let nothing despoil it. Nor was he social enough to enjoy the song and mindless chatter.

    Chronius always disliked those celebrations, but it was the first time where he actively loathed them.

    He couldn��t exin it himself. The night was nothing extraordinary. He had attended dozens of these gruesome celebrations since he settled in Goldport and reluctantly presided over a few. He��d powered through each and every time.

    So why was he feeling so unbearably sick in the stomach? The apothecary didn��t find anything wrong with him on hisst visit.

    A chorus drew him out of his thoughts. A gentleman in purple had descended the stairs and made his presence known, his boots soundlessly climbing down the stepstones with inhuman grace.

    ��Howdy, chaps!�� Jean-Chastel greeted the crowd with a soulless smile and his usual joyful predisposition. ��You look breathtaking tonight!��

    His ��guest�� trailed behind him, his hands and neck bound by a thick red chain. It was a man this time, with Rivendian features. Thest one had been an Iremian immigrant, and the one before was a woman from the north. His garish clothes marked him as a member of high society, though his heavy bruises and the apple stuck between his broken teeth diminished his noble aura.

    The Knot of Wrath didn��t discriminate among its victims, though they favored the rich and powerful.

    The cultists, Chronius included, gathered in a sacred circle under the smokeless me��s glow. One of them distributed clubs to his fellows. Chronius�� own club felt heavy in his hands. He preferred the intimacy of smaller des and the precision of scalpels, but clubs were inexpensive and didn��t require much maintenance.

    Chastel dragged his prey into the circle and swiftly paraded him before each cultist, heralding the start of the true festivities. To the establishment��s real clients, <em>Sunset House</em> was an inside joke, a mere smokescreen to weed out the uninitiated. The believers knew it by another name.

    The <em>Murder House</em>.

    A female member had the ��honor�� of delivering the first blow. She was rtively new, so she gave the prisoner a light tap in the stomach. The one after her hit the guest in the face hard enough to shatter his nose. The third cultist struck him in the back, and the fourth drew blood.

    ��We are a family forged in criminalplicity,�� Jean-Chastel once told Chronius. ��Everyone must participate, otherwise they��ll feel left out. Shared fun is twice the joy, I always say!��

    That was true enough. Forcing everyone to participate in an assassination created a sick kind of mutual loyalty. Nobody could say that they weren��t responsible afterward. The blood on their hands, the shared guilt, and the fear of thew bound the Knot of Wrath tighter than any oath to a Demon Ancestor. Nobody could back down after a Murder House ceremony.

    The guest pissed blood by the time he reached Chronius. The pungent, metallic smell filled the assassin��s nostrils and awoke the <em>urge</em>. The sight of this exposed flesh, of this fruit of bones and meat ripe with sweet red fluids, overwhelmed him. His sight turned into a red haze through which no light could prate.

    His body was no longer his own. His movements became distant echoes resonating through a crimson void. His mind retreated into the deepest recesses of his skull as his hands smashed with abandon. He vaguely sensed something warm staining his skin, the screams andughs of the cultists muffled into silence.

    A sh of ckness swallowed Chronius whole, and when the veil over his eyes lifted he stood before a body in a state of gore beyond recognition. A puddle of blood and mangled bonesy at his feet. His club had turned red, its surface stained with gray matter. He heard screams of joy and cruelughter, then felt the light taps on his back.

    No guest ever finished a circuit that included Chronius.

    Joy flooded through him, followed by the sensation of being so marvelously <em>alive</em>. The sharp sting of immense distress followed immediately after, sharper than ever before.

    Chronius stared at the corpse for a moment, his excitement suddenly reced with a profound sense of sorrow and emptiness. The gloom always hit him after his urge��s satisfaction overwhelmed him, but it felt deeper and stronger than ever before. Overwhelming even.

    Chronius sighed and surrendered his club to another cultist without a word. He was already halfway to the exit by the time the rest of the clientele prepared to throw the dead guest into the holy me. Another soul would fuel Belgoroth��s return and the world��s purification, or so the priests among them said. Chronius didn��t care about any of that right now.

    He just needed fresh air.

    He moved upstairs to the main house��s toilets and cleaned his hands with methodical expertise. He watched the water run red between his fingers. How often had he repeated this motion? Hundreds of times? Thousands?

    The bloodlust had haunted Chronius since childhood. He had gotten his first taste of it in Sra��s gutters, when he stabbed a rat who��d tried to bite his foot. The <em>urge </em>continued to haunt him for years. Man or beast, it didn��t matter. Blood looked the same everywhere. Since he was good at spilling it, bing a bounty hunter and then an assassin had been the logical next step.

    Chronius had grown better and better at it, until people came from all across the Everbright Empire to hire him. A baron even gave him his daughter��s hand in marriage after he dispatched bandits threatening hisnds. Barbara had been a good match, and for a time, Chronius and her had been happy enough; enough that he��d been considering setting his knives aside for a while.

    Then came <em>the Coup of 671, </em>when half the empire��s nobles rose up against the Everbright Emperor��s centralization reforms. Chronius�� inws picked the wrong side, but honor demanded that he fight on their behalf. He spent months killing his way through the realm until he managed toe home unannounced�� only to find his wife in another man��s arms.

    Chronius never learned <em>why</em>, nor did he have time to ask before the <em>urge </em>overwhelmed him.

    What followed�� Chronius tried his best not to think of it. He still felt the blood on his hands whenever the nightmares woke him up at night, alongside the sensation of Barbara��s panicked thumb pressing against his eye when his hands closed on her neck��

    He had lost more than half his sight that night.

    His father-inw would have hung him had Mother Wolf and Chastel not broken him out of jail. Chronius didn��t know how they learned about him or why he caught their eye among this world��s many criminals. Perhaps they heard whispers of his urge, or found his skills valuable. They never told him.

    Instead, they hade to him in his darkest hour with an offer: salvation and forgiveness in exchange for his services. They served the Heroes themselves, they said, and they could offer him what he��d sought for most of his life.

    <em>Purpose</em>.

    Chronius had nowhere to go after staining his own home with blood and listened. The Knot of Wrath took him in, giving him material support,panionship, and spiritual guidance. They treated him so kindly.

    Then, when the <em>urge </em>returned, they asked him to kill for them.

    They didn��t put him through the group ritual. They didn��t need to. Chronius was already stained before they picked him up. Killing was the only thing he was naturally good at. They turned something so sinful into a holy task. They made him into a holy soldier fighting a war on behalf of the ��true�� Heroes.

    Chronius had be the cult��s troubleshooter before he knew it. The Knot of Wrath always wanted somebody dead, but he was the man they picked when they didn��t want to take any chances. He never failed an assignment in his four years of service.

    He never let them see his doubts either.

    They��d started gnawing at him since the first murder and only grown stronger since.

    Goldport��s Knot of Wrath was a disparate lot. Desperate people who nobody else would take them in; natural-born killers seeking an outlet for their bloodlust; people wronged by the Arcane Abbey, the establishment, the powers that be, and who now sought revenge against society; and individuals who materially profited from their murders. Many cut off contact with their friends and family over time. Once you were drenched in filth, you could only sink deeper and stain everything else.

    The Knot was all too happy to provide in return. To the lost, it gavemunity andpanionship; to the vengeful, it offered tools to take revenge on those who had wronged them; it gave money and housing to the poor, answers to the confused, and purpose to the purposeless.

    All it asked in return was loyalty and bloodshed.

    Once he had cleansed his body��but not his soul��Chronius walked outside the Sunset House. The alley was dark and empty, safe for the Knots�� lookouts, but the cold and chilly air felt so much purer than the suffocating stench of blood downstairs. Chronius looked up at the pale glow of the Earthmoon above and the shining stars dancing in the sky. Their light soothed him a little.

    He sensed Chastel sneak up on him before he even uttered a word. ��Why the long face, old chap?��

    Chronius had grown used to identifying demons on sight over time. Their posture always betrayed a predatory disposition and utterck of empathy. Humans were social creatures who constantly adjusted their behavior to those of others around them, but demons�� demons were prisoners inside their own heads. They existed in a private mental world disconnected from reality.

    That was why Chastel always smiled. The rest of existence did not concern him. His broken spirit was an abyss of childish joy untouched by sorrow, concern, or guilt. Chronius wagered that his own inevitable death wouldn��t bother the demon in the slightest.

    Chastel didn��t care about <em>anyone</em>, let alone himself.

    ��I know that look,�� the demon said with his ghastly, feline smile. ��Someone is having dark thoughts tonight.��

    Chronius looked away. He found Chastel unnerving at the best of times, but his presence especially bothered him tonight. ��Why did we kill this one?��

    ��Our guest?�� Chastel shrugged. ��Who knows?��

    Chronius frowned. ��<em>Who knows</em>?��

    ��Maybe he talked too much, or he was in the wrong ce at the wrong time, or somebody somewhere wanted him dead. Or maybe we killed him for no reason at all.�� Chastel gave him a curious look. ��You never bothered to ask before, old chap.��

    No, he did not. There were plenty of reasons to exin a hit, and no word that could bring the dead back.

    So why did it bother him so intimately this time? The answer soon bubbled at the surface of his thoughts.

    <em>Because I��ve found a treatment</em>. After so long, Chronius had finally found one. <em>There is a cure for madness. </em>

    ��There is a cure for your dark thoughts, my good friend,�� Chastel said. ��To that sickness called a <em>conscience</em>.��

    The demon flipped Chronius a coin. He caught the object in midair almost absent-mindedly, only to regret it once he examined it closely. A gilded skull stared at him on its surface, its ruby eyes radiating with malice.

    ��Try it, I say.�� Chastel chuckled sinisterly. ��It did <em>wonders </em>for me.��

    Chronius grunted and put the Devil��s Coin in his pocket. He wasn��t blind to Chastel��s move; to receive one of these items��a piece of the true Merchant��s soul��was a great honor among the Knots, a sign that he was being considered for a position of power in the organization. Few were chosen to be demons.

    But it also represented an ultimatum. An offer tomit forever to the true Heroes of the world, and to stand by their side once they returned to create a new paradise. Or so the higher-ups said.

    Chronius never bought into it. He served the Knot because of ack of alternative, not belief.

    ��I��ll think about it,�� Chronius replied before venturing into the alley, his hands deep in his pockets. He sensed Chastel��s unblinking stare on his back for a very long time.

    The demon sensed his hesitation, and it didn��t please him.

    Chronius walked the streets of Goldport. The city was the second richest in the Rivend Federation, but its glory was paper-thin. The smell of brine and the wavering shadows of its great merchant gallons hardly hid the stench of decaying from the old docks. The buildings there were a hodgepodge of weathered tenements and shacks with ragged cloths for windows. The city��s wealth gathered in the new docks on the west side, where the merchant princes and noble houses lived.

    Chronius moved among cloaked figures along the harbor, the silence often broken by the p of waves against the hull of ships, the low murmur of the homeless, and the fornication of dockside whores and sailors. The city watch rarely patrolled the backstreets, except to visit brothels or collect bribes. Even local alehouse patrons were more interested in drowning their sorrows and drunken brawls than revelry.

    <em>So much pain and sorrow. </em>Chronius briefly exchanged a nce with a cloaked beggar. He caught a glimpse of a dagger hidden under the man��s cloak, and the distrust in his gaze.<em> So much anger. </em>

    The Rivend��s Knot of Wrath had been founded in the wake of the Everbright Empire��s civil war by disgruntled soldiers in exile. It had grown steadily over the years to epass hundreds of members spread over the entire country. Goldport��s group focused on recruiting among the city��s dockworkers, sailors, and immigrants; the poor, the desperate, the needy. The chapter was a pale shadow of the cult��s forces in the north��the Rivend belonged to the Knot of Greed first and foremost��but it had found fertile ground in which to take root.

    The desperate needed Heroes to cling to. <em>Any</em> Heroes.

    Chronius had hoped Belgoroth would be that idol too once. That the Lord of Wrath would make his curse a holy gift, tell his servant that all the blood he had shed was in the service of a greater cause, and that he would finally find peace. And when the first Knight��s faith failed to deliver, Chronius grew despondent. He��d been adrift once again.

    Until he found a cure for the <em>urge</em>.

    Goldport��s apothecaries tested a new drug on their asylum��s patients in order to quell violent thoughts. Chronius stole a batch and tested it on himself, the same way he��d tried dozens of treatments in the past. This time proved different. The drug couldn��t silence the <em>urge</em>, notpletely, but it quelled it enough to keep it under control.

    Chronius had earned enough money to retire twice over. He only continued to kill because his sickness made any other career impossible, and because the Knot would never let him leave peacefully. He simply knew too much.

    Now that he had a <em>choice </em>about keeping his curse under control��

    Now that he could free himself from the bloodlust, murder suddenly felt terribly wrong to Chronius. He could no longer deny the unfulfilling nature of his own existence.

    <em>I��m tired. </em>

    Chronius was tired of running around with only a change in targets to break the monotonous routine, hiding from thew and looking over his shoulder. He had fought the Emperor��s forces because his father-inw demanded it and slew the Knot��s enemies because he owed them his life, but he couldn��t feel any sense of purpose in either cause.

    He heard a cry.

    Chronius nced at a dark alley to the left. A form lurked there, surrounded by emaciated stray dogs foraging for scraps. They barked at him, barring their teeth. A steel dagger found its way to Chronius�� hand in an instant. His mere gaze sent the animals running, or perhaps they��d smelled the blood on him.

    Chronius walked into the alley on a whim. He didn��t fear an ambush��locals stopped trying to mug him after he��d buried enough of them��but didn��t let go of his dagger just in case. He recognized the stench of a corpse.

    A dockside whorey dead among the trash, her pallid arms clutching a babe.

    Chronius had seen the woman a few times when he prowled the area, though he didn��t know about her pregnancy. The frail babe she carried could only be a few weeks old. The frail creature cried out for its dead mother with what little strength it had left, to no avail. It would die soon, and its corpse would be tossed into a ditch alongside its parent on the morrow by the city watch. It was amon story in these parts.

    One that never failed to sadden Chronius. He had hoped to have children one day, before Barbara�� before <em>Barbara</em>. He stared at the babe with a strange confusion in his heart. The creature hardly seemed to notice his presence, but Chronius couldn��t take his eyes off it.

    <em>Is this a sign?</em> Chronius had never believed in the Goddess��she didn��t believe in this world enough to stay in it after all��but it felt like a strange coincidence. He had spent so many years taking lives, and the night he reconsidered his existence, he was faced with a chance to save one. <em>Would it be a mercy? </em>

    This child would grow up an orphan in the gutters even if it survived, like Chronius himself. A miserable existence.

    Unless��

    Unless he could give it a better one.

    Fior leaned against the hedge wall, her gaze turned at the maze��s end.

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    She had to stay vignt, for the Assassin was after her. A single minute separated her from victory. One more minute, and then she could win by right of endurance. She held her breath and waited. She was bound to pass through this passage any minute now��

    Fior sensed a hand grabbing her from behind, startling her.

    ��Got you!�� her friend shouted with augh. ��You��re dead!��

    Fior had lost again.

    ��That��s not fair!�� Fiorined after Mersie released her grip. ��I��m the Druid and we��re in a hedge maze! I should win by default!��

    ��I��m the Assassin, dummy,�� Mersie replied with a proud smirk. ��Even pretty flowers die when a gardeneres!��

    ��There��s no Gardener ss.�� Fior pouted and crossed her arms. She had lost twice at y Hero today, much to her dismay. ��How did you sneak up on me from behind?��

    ��I used the secret passages,�� Mersie replied with a sly smirk. Her dress was covered in leaves and slightly torn in ces. ��I climbed up the tree and jumped over the wall, like any Assassin should.��

    ��You climbed up the oak?�� The news mortified Fior. ��But it is so high�� you could have hurt yourself!��

    ��If you want to win at ying Hero, you must y smarter or braver!�� Mersie replied proudly. ��Me? I��m both!��

    ��Girls!�� Mother called out from outside the hedge maze. ��Come over here!��

    Oh crap, she had heard their argument. Fior and Mersie exchanged a nce, then walked back into the garden; the former more meekly than thetter.

    Mother sat there at a mahogany table under a wide umbre, with a newspaper and a deck of cards set nearby. Their head butler, Camilus, served her tea without a word.

    ��Who won this time?�� Mother asked with a kind smile. She looked so pretty with her golden hair woven into a braid and her ck dress. Fior hoped she would grow to look as beautiful as her and as smart as Father.

    ��Me, ma��am!�� Mersie replied proudly.

    ��She cheated,�� Fiorined under her breath. ��She climbed up the tree.��

    ��Is that so?�� Mother shook her head and scolded Fior��s ymate. ��Mersie, cheating is for people who don��t have the skills to win on their own merits.��

    ��But if I cheat and don��t get caught, then it means I��m skilled,�� Mersie retorted.

    ��And a maid��s daughter shouldn��t talk back to her mother��s employer this way, Mersie,�� Mother replied sternly. ��Promise me to y fair next time.��

    Mersie pouted, but apologized. Fior instantly felt guilty. She didn��t intend for Mother to scold her friend again. It wasn��t Mersie��s fault if she was too brave by half.

    ��Can we y again?�� Fior asked, mostly to distract her mother.

    ��Of course!�� Mersie said as they each drew a card from the deck. ��I want to y as the Rogue this time!��

    ��Then I��ll y the Wizard,�� Fior retorted.

    ��The Mage, Fiore,�� Mother corrected her. ��The Mage, not the Wizard. Remember your lessons.��

    Neither child got their wish. Mersie drew a familiar card: a bow and arrows adorned with the number ten. Fior��s own pick showed a two-faced mask under a half-moon. The number eighteen was underwritten at the bottom, barely visible.

    ��I drew the Archer!�� Mersie rejoiced. ��Lucky pick!��

    ��And I am the Spy,�� Fior replied with a sigh. The Bard��s Vassals were the <em>worst</em>. ��I must hide again.��

    ��And if I throw a stone at you, I win.�� A prospect that Mersie clearly looked forward to. ��I��ll count to a thousand before chasing you!��

    ��How gracious,�� Fior said as she picked her dress�� hemline and swiftly ran back to the manor, much to her mother��s amusement. The rules said that the Spy had to hide in in sight and Mersie couldn��t count to a hundred without messing up.

    Although Fior had spent all her life in the Salvadoreen manor, she often struggled to find her way through the lower floors. The limestone walls glowed softly in the light filtering through its delicate quatrefoil windows; a host of servants toiled under golden arches and walked up ornate marble stairs. An imposing golden statue of a winged lion stood guard in the main hall.

    Fior walked up the steps to the third floor while servants and staff members politely nodded at her. Nobody dared to stare at her in the eyes; nobody except Mersie herself, whom she had grown up with. It bothered Fior sometimes. She always felt that the servants were hiding something from her.

    The air was cooler on the upper floors and filled with the faint scent of aged wood. Fior��s bedroom was located right next to her father��s and hosted arge wardrobe. She could have called upon a maid to help her dress up, but it would make it too easy for Mersie to identify her disguise.

    Fior had experience though. Mersie and her looked so much alike that people often mistook them for the other when they switched clothes, which they often did.

    Fior had noticed that people treated them very differently. The staff scolded her more often when she dressed as Mersie, and her parents�� guests would hardly pay attention to her when they would always dote on her otherwise.

    It bothered Fior, and Mersie too. They were so much alike and equally cute, so why should one be treated better than the other? Mersie shouldn��t be scolded because she was a maid��s daughter rather than a duke��s.

    When Fior grew old enough, she would let her friend dress like her every day of the week.

    She passed in front of her father��s bedroom when she heard her father shouting from behind the doors. ����they know about the Sword of Belgoroth!��

    The sudden noise startled Fior. Theck of guards in the hallway made her think that her father was holding an audience elsewhere. Father only sent his bodyguards away when he discussed very important business, so he wouldn��t be disturbed.

    Fior leaned in closer to the door to listen in. She knew she shouldn��t��and that she was wasting valuable time��but Father��s tone bothered him. He sounded so�� so <em>angry</em>.

    Was he still bothered about her birthday? Fior had begged him not to invite too many people for that evening, since she felt sick when surrounded by crowds, but he would rather have half the city��s nobility attend the party.

    ��A future duchess must learn to be <em>sociable</em>,�� he��d told Fior. ��You won��t win any hearts hiding in a closet, my daughter.��

    His harsh words had caused Fior to shrink in ce. Father had only agreed to her wish only after Mother insisted on her daughter��s behalf. Did an uninvited guest hold a grudge against him?

    ��The Lantern Empress herself entrusted our family with this duty,�� Father said. ��House Salvadoreen has kept that vow for over six hundred-years, no matter the g under which we fought. Why <em>now </em>of all times?��

    ��The worship of the Demon Ancestors is global,�� a man replied. Fior didn��t recognize the voice. ��It involves every ss, every race, and every nation. Their cults�� seeds spread chaos and tensions everywhere they sprout. The rot has spread from Irem to Archfrost.��

    Fior heard the sound of a ss hitting a table, followed by Father��s grunt. ��They��re gaining momentum in this verynd.��

    ��So you think the Duke of Ermeline is involved with <em>them</em>?��

    ��He is almost certainlypromised,�� Father answered. ��He and that Thief-Taker General are consolidating their grip on the Federation��s criminal underworld through bribes, ckmail, and force. Power in our institutions is slowly concentrating into fewer and fewer hands. I��m doing my best to reverse the trend, but�C��

    ��Your decision to shelter Princess Isabel earned you her respect, wealth�� and many enemies.��

    ��Yes, and����

    Father suddenly fell silent. After waiting a few seconds, a curious Fior leaned against the keyhole to take a better look.

    She nearly copsed when the door suddenly swung open and Father��s shadow loomed over her.

    ��Fiore!�� Her father sighed in obvious relief, his enchanted rapier shining in his hand. ��What are you doing here?��

    Fior blushed. She had messed up, so she quickly invented a lie on the spot. ��I�� I came to try on a new dress for my birthday party, Father.��

    ��That is not what I meant.�� Father sheathed his sword, his wrinkled face twisting into a scowl. ��Do not worry me so. Listening behind doors is unbefitting of a Salvadoreen.��

    His concern filled Fior with guilt and shame. ��I��m sorry���� she apologized, her eyes staring at the floor. ��I heard you shouting and�� I was worried.��

    Her father��s expression softened slightly. ��I am sorry I worried you, Fiore,�� he said. ��I swear everything is well and good.��

    Fior had noticed that adults often mistook her and Mersie for being stupid. They thought they could lie to children��s faces and expect to be believed on the spot. It never worked. Fior could see the concern in her Father��s gaze inly enough.

    Fior took a quick, furtive nce at the bedroom to see who her father was arguing with. To her surprise, it seemed utterly empty.

    The window was wide open though.

    ��You wish to <em>leave</em>?��

    Chronius straightened up, his hidden teeth of steel pressing against his chest. He was treading on dangerous grounds.

    A tense atmosphere fell upon the <em>Sunset House��s </em>master office. Hardly any light pierced through the red velvet curtains, and the smell of burning incense filled the air. Chastel nonchntly rested with his back against a wall, though his unblinking eyes didn��t let Chronius out of sight.

    Chronius hardly paid the demon any mind. The one he had to convince sat behind a desk whose cabs bulged with papers and navigational charts. Every inch of her skin was hidden behind an apothecary��s robes and a lupine-shaped breathing mask.

    Mother Wolf led the Knot of Wrath from Arcadia. Chronius never learned of her true identity in all these years, but he��d heard rumors that she was a werewolf of some kind; one with big ns for Archfrost. She usually entrusted Chastel tomunicate her orders to other chapters across the continent and rarely bothered to visit them as she did today.

    Moreover, she was the one who personally inducted Chronius into the Knot of Wrath. Only she could release him of his obligations towards the organization�� one way or another.

    ��Chronius, old chap, don��t you get it?�� Chastel shook his head, his fiendish smile unwavering. ��You can��t leave your <em>family</em>. In for life, in for death.��

    Chronius had expected that answer. He had learned too much working for the Knot of Wrath. He��d been taught the ��true�� Heroes�� secrets, been granted a Devil Coin, and witnessed sinister truths.

    Nheless, Chronius carefully considered his options and concluded thating clean was better than running away. He might have a slim chance of leaving the Knot on good terms if he convinced its leader to let him off the hook.

    Mother Wolf studied him carefully for a moment before asking, ��Why didn��t you run away, Chronius? It would have been wiser to flee on your lonesome.��

    Truth be told, Chronius had considered it and prepared his belongings ordingly. If the meeting didn��t go well, he was fully prepared to kill Mother Wolf and Chastel before skipping town.

    One thing prevented him from doing so. One tiny little thing.

    ��I��ve decided to adopt,�� Chronius confessed.

    Humans were open books to the reader who paid close attention. No mask nor clothing could hide the subtle shifts in posture, the unconscious movement of feet, the tiny unconscious signs that betrayed a mind��s true thoughts. Chastel didn��t react, since he probably knew already, but Mother Wolf�� Chronius could tell that his words unnerved her on a deeper level than he would have expected.

    Whether it was a good or bad sign, he couldn��t tell yet.

    ��I have decided to call her Erika.�� That was how Chronius would have named his child with Barbara, when they still nned to have one. ��She��s hardly a few months old. I��ve been taking care of her for a while.��

    The first weeks had been a moreplex mission than any assassination Chronius ever performed. The mere logistics of finding a nurse, of changing the child��s clothes whenever she stained them, and dealing with the constant screams and nightly interruptions boggled the mind.

    Fatherhood had a <em>steep </em>learning curve.

    ��She is still alive?�� Mother Wolf asked after recovering from her surprise.

    Chronius flinched at her words. ��I��m following a treatment,�� he said. ��It��s�� not perfect, but sufficient.��

    Enough that ying rats now and then satisfied him.

    ��Interesting,�� Mother Wolf said after slouching in her chair. ��I see how it is. You want us to leave this girl alone.��

    ��I understand this organization��s reach,�� Chronius said. ��You will find me wherever I go. You will try to kill me and fail���� Chastel chuckled at his bold words, but Chronius ignored him. ����but you will force my daughter and I to spend the rest of our lives on the run. I wish for Erika to grow under the best possible circumstances, and I cannot offer her that if I make an enemy of the Knots.��

    ��Do you think she will grow up happily in this doomed world of ours?�� Mother Wolf��s hand reached for the velvet curtain and pulled it slightly. The window offered them a perfect view of the beggar-filled city streets. ��I have walked Pangeal from one end to the other, from Archfrost to the Stonnds. Everywhere I see the same pattern: the wealthy tramples the poor; the strong oppresses the weak; war brews, and people stew in misery with no Goddess nor Heroes to answer their pleas.��

    Mother Wolf turned to stare at Chronius straight in the eyes.

    ��You know Lord Belgoroth will one day cleanse this doomednd,�� she said. ��Do you think you can give that child a happy life anyway?��

    ��I cannot promise I will,�� Chronius replied firmly. ��But I would like to do my best.��

    Both for Erika��s sake and his own.

    He wanted a better life for both of them; and more than that, he wanted to prove that he could change.

    A tense silence followed as Mother Wolf pondered his words. Chronius held still, his fingers ready to draw a knife at a moment��s notice. Chastel adjusted his position behind him like a cat ready to pounce. One second and�C

    ��Fine.��

    Chronius froze in shock, and Chastel��s smile faded into a rare expression of genuine surprise.

    ��Owing to the many services you lent us in the past, I will allow you to retire and raise the girl in peace.�� Mother Wolf raised two fingers. ��Under two conditions.��

    Chronius held his breath. He knew that the cult leader would ask for an equally troublesome service in return for that one favor.

    ��First of all, you will disappear and keep your mouth shut,�� Mother Wolf said. ��You leave for some faraway corner of Pangeal where we can forget about you, and you won��t speak a word of what you��ve learned. I <em>will </em>know if you dare to share our secrets, and you and that child of yours will pay the price for your recklessness. Am I clear, Chronius?��

    ��Understood,�� Chronius replied. He��d expected as much and fully intended to forget everything anyway. To start all over again.

    ��You will also fulfill onest mission for us.�� Mother Wolf joined her hands together. ��Onest job, and then we will let you go.��

    Chronius clenched his jaw. They only ever had one task to offer him.

    ��Who do you want me to kill?�� he asked.

    Fior came to her birthday party mortified.

    Mother had her attend the evening in a crimson gown of Seukaian silk and Iremiance adorned with tiny pearls. A delicate golden tiara sat atop her golden hair, and a beautiful silver ne glowed on her neck. Fior felt pretty in the dress, but it hardly helped with the anxiety. She stared at the great hall��s doors with apprehension, Camilus and other servants ready to open them at any moment.

    Mersie followed her closely with a bright smile; Fior had lent her ymate one of her spare dresses, so she looked every inch the nobledy tonight.

    ��Everything will be alright,�� she promised upon taking Fior��s hand into her own. ��They��re just adults. You aren��t afraid of adults, right?��

    Fior <em>was </em>afraid, but she didn��t want to look that way in front of her best friend. She gulped, gathered her breath, and then entered the great hall.

    The room erupted into apuse at her arrival. Servants had turned the great hall into and of silver and porcin, and noble family friends from all across Goldport came in their finest garments to attend this private party. A tiny host of minstrels yed lively lute and violin melodies for everyone��s enjoyment.

    Each table was marked with brightly colored ribbons and gands, though the central one hosted an enormous cheesecake instead. Father had itmissioned from Goldport��s finest artisans and topped by a miniature replica of the city, entirely made of Fire Ind sugar.

    ��I��ve heard it cost a fortune to prepare,�� she��d heard a maidin to a cook in the afternoon. ��More than you or I will ever earn.��

    The other servant had sneered in response and then said, ��The Lord will punish them for their selfishness. You will see.��

    Fior wondered why she said that. Father wouldn��t punish anyone over a cake, would he?

    Speaking of Father, the room turned silent the moment he rose from his seat. ��Wee, my dear friends andpatriots,�� he addressed the crowd with a ss of wine in his hand and Mother sitting at his left. ��Thank you foring this evening to celebrate my pride and joy��s seventh birthday! Please offer a warm apuse for my daughter Fiore, the jewel of my life!��

    Fior forced herself to smile, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Father fulfilled his promise and only invited a handful of guests, but a handful was still too many. She nheless gave them a reverence, as she had been taught to.

    Camilus took her hand away from Mersie��who wouldn��t be allowed to sit near a duke��s daughter, no matter how much Fior insisted��and gently guided her closer to the cake. A one-eyed cook stood next to the sugary mountain with arge knife in one hand and a small burning stick in the other. He used thetter to light up seven candles themed after the Great sses, while Camilus set a tabouret for Fior to climb up on so she could reach them.

    ��Protocol would demand that we start with a feast first, but since childrenck the patience to dine with adults, we will begin with the cake and gifts,�� Father announced. ��Fiore, remember that seven is a lucky year.��

    Fior nodded slightly. Seven was the sacred number in the Goddess�� eyes, who split the great sses and days into equal parts. Any wish she would make when blowing the candles woulde true, or so Mother told her once. Fior had long pondered what she would like to ask the Goddess until she settled on one idea.

    <em>I would like to be more like Mersie</em>, Fior thought as she gathered her breath. <em>I would like to be brave and daring like her. </em>

    Fior blew out the candles in one blow, to the crowd��s acim, and none pped louder than Mersie herself.

    The musicians resumed their performance with Goldport��s anthem, and the one-eyed cook silently raised his knife to cut the cake. He was halfway through slicing the first part when he suddenly stopped midway.

    Fior saw Father frown in confusion and exchange a word with Mother. The minstrels grew quieter as a guest suddenly rose from his seat. Had he grown sick?

    ��Are you stuck, sir?�� Fior shyly asked the cook. ��Do�� Do you need help?��

    The cook stared at her with his single icy eye, and Fior suddenly felt sick to her stomach. She heard loud noise cutting through the music from outside the hall and the sound of broken ss.

    ��Run,�� the man said calmly and without any emotion.

    He turned around and threw his knife at Father in a dazzling sh of speed.

    Fior blinked in surprise as metal hit Father in the throat from across the room and nailed him to the wall behind his chair. Thick red wine burst out of his neck and spilled over his shirt, staining it red.

    <em>Is this a show? </em>Fior thought as the musicians suddenly stopped and a tense silence fell upon the hall. From the way Father grasped at his throat, he didn��t like it in the slightest. The guest who rose up earlier had to be a magician too, for he started to grow horns and ws. <em>Didn��t the staff tell Father? </em>

    But then Father stared at her from across the room with fearful eyes, and then Fior knew something was <em>wrong</em>. Her mother��s scream only frightened her further.

    Next thing Fior knew, Camilus�� hands closed on her chest and dragged her away from the cab. The one-eyed cook indecently ripped his shirt open to reveal hundreds of knives hidden underneath, and the great hall��s doors mmed open to reveal a man in a purple jacket.

    ��What a splendid evening,�� the smiling man said. A band of masked crossbowmen with clothes stained red followed him. ��The good Duke sends his regards!��

    The crossbowmen opened fire, and the room erupted into blood and chaos.

    Fior��s mind came to a sudden halt. Crowds and loud noises easily overwhelmed her, but the current chorus outright paralyzed her. Everything became a blur. She vaguely remembered Camilus carrying her towards the stairs as fairy tale monsters painted the walls red and crossbow bolts turned her cousins into pincushions. Something rolled on the ground near them and Fior caught a brief glimpse of it.

    Her mother��s head stared at her from the floor below, with nothing more than a red stain left below the neck.

    Only then did Fior scream.

    She screamed all the way to her bedroom��s closet, which Camilus dragged her to. He opened it with one hand, pushed the dresses away, and then touched a corner of the wardrobe which Fior never noticed. The back slid slightly alongside the limestone wall to which it was stuck, revealing an opening. Camilus pushed Fior inside the passage, then hastily closed it behind them.

    ��Quiet, mdy,�� Camilus hissed in her ear. When Fior ignored him, he quickly pressed his hand over her mouth. ��<em>Quiet</em>.��

    His glove muffled her mouth and his grip was strong. Fior didn��t have the strength to resist him before and she didn��t have it now. The stone walls muffled the screams outside and the darkness of the passage reassured her, so she calmed down a bit. Not much, but enough to look around.

    Camilus leaned forward slightly, and Fior noticed tiny holes in the wall. It gave her a small view of the bedroom outside. She waited for mother and father to hide with them, as they surely would. It had only been wine spilling from her Father��s throat, and the head�� the head couldn��t have been Mother��s. It had to be a trick, a <em>horrible </em>joke.

    Nothing tonight would make sense otherwise.

    Someone did enter the room, crawling in fear in a bloodied dress. Her cheeks were red, puffed, and wet.

    ��Fior?!�� she called out. ��Mom?! <em>Anyone?!</em>��

    Fior had never seen Mersie cry before. Her friend, who could fearlessly talk back to anyone and climb the highest trees, shivered in fear on the floor as footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.

    She had to hide with them. She had to.

    Fior tried to kick the secret door open with her feet, but Camilus pushed her back before she could. He wouldn��t let her call out to Mersie either, no matter how many times Fior kicked him in the legs.

    ��I��m sorry,�� her butler apologized, his voice heavy with sorrow. ��I��m sorry, mdy. It is toote for her.��

    The man in purple already stood on the bedroom��s threshold.

    ��Miss Fiore, I presume?�� The stranger smiled ear to ear at Mersie, his teeth sharper than des. ��Such a pretty little child you are.��

    ��Please���� Mersie crawled into a corner of the room, tears of terror running down her pretty cheeks. ��Please����

    ��Shush, do not cry���� The man��s smile widened until his face transformed into a cat��s grin. Dozens of arms emerged from his jacket and swiftly lunged at Mersie. ��It won��t take more than a single bite.��

    Camilus covered Fior��s eyes and mouth to spare her the cruel sight, but failed to shield her ears.

    She heard it all.

    Her friend��s screams; the <em>crunching</em>; the sickening noise of footsteps on arge puddle of blood; and then the horrible silence that followed.

    When Camilus finally removed his hands from her eyes, only a bloody dress remained of Mersie. Her murderer��s crimson footsteps led outside. The manor soon became awfully quiet, and tears rained down Fior��s cheeks.

    ��Quiet, mdy,�� Camilus repeated, his voice heavy with sorrow. His hold on Fior��s mouth weakened slightly. ��Quiet����

    Fior nearly cried in surprise when the one-eyed cook from earlier entered the bedroom next. His clothes were drenched in blood, along with his knives. Fior��s heart nearly stopped when he gave the bedroom a cursory look and briefly paused on the closet, before restarting when he left as swiftly as he entered.

    Fior couldn��t tell how long she spent in the secret passage trapped with Camilus, surrounded by silence and death. The manor in which she had spent her entire life soon began to whisper in her ear.

    Father, Mother, Mersie, and so many others��

    The walls moaned with their voices.

    Chronius walked out of the Salvadoreen��s tomb with a heavy heart.

    The demons among the crew had regained their human forms to mingle back with their fellow assassins, but as far as Chronius was concerned, they were <em>all </em>monsters tonight.

    ��Mypliments to Lord Salvadoreen,�� Chastel said after wiping his lips with a handkerchief. ��His daughter was <em>delicious</em>.��

    Chronius suppressed a scowl of disgust and kept his mouth shut. His eyes lingered on two cultists carrying a ck chest behind Chastel. He was no witchcrafter, but he could still sense the wicked, wrathful essence radiating from it.

    Chronius gathered that they proceeded with this attack to eliminate Duke Ermeline��s rivals, and because the Salvadoreens kept a powerful memento hidden in their vault; an object so precious that the Knot of Wrath was ready tomit a public massacre to recover it. Chronius had no idea of what this chest contained, and the less he learned of its nature, the better.

    Another sinister aura nearby rivaled that treasure in its wickedness. Chronius looked over his shoulder at the Salvadoreen��s broken home. Its walls were growing screaming faces and its hedge turned into a wall of ck, thorny roses hungry for blood.

    A Blight. Their evil stained the manor so intimately that it created a Blight. That house would be a den of nightmares for years toe.

    Taking the drug had made the mission so much harder, but Chronius would hold true to his choice. He didn��t want to lie to himself and me the urge for what he did today. It would have been cowardly. He hadmitted this crime of his own will, purchasing his and Erika��s freedom with innocent blood.

    ��They <em>deserved </em>it,�� he heard one of the killers mutter under his breath; mostly for his own sake rather than for his aplices. He had served the Salvadoreen for two years and opened the backdoor for the intruders. ��All these have-it-alls, with their fine food and their ill-gotten gold. They deserved death.��

    So did their killers. If there was any divine justice in this world, Chronius knew someone would punish them all for this massacre one day.

    ��Did we miss any?�� Chastel asked whimsically. ��I believe we have been very thorough, but Mdy asked that we leave no witnesses. I would be loath to disappoint her.��

    ��Did somebody get the other girl?�� a demon among them asked. ��You know, the ymate?��

    ��I butchered her maid mother well enough,�� a cultist said. ��Can��t remember her corpse though.��

    ��I killed that child,�� Chronius lied. ��The head butler too.��

    ��Oh, good call, I always forget the butlers.�� Chastel chuckled happily. ��My most sincere thanks, my good friend. You spared me Mdy��s scolding.��

    No one questioned Chronius�� story. The Knot of Wrath catered to wanton killers and beasts in human skin. None of them bothered to check their victims too closely. Besides, when Chronius of all people said he��d killed someone, they were as good as buried.

    ��Let us disperse before the city watch and witchcrafters arrive, folks,�� Chastel said before smiling at Chronius; hopefully for thest time. ��Will you spare us a long goodbye, old chap?��

    ��My debt is settled.�� Chronius tossed his Devil Coin at the demon and severed his final obligations to the Knot. ��I��m out.��

    Chastel flipped the coin between his fingers and then put it in his jacket��s pocket.

    ��A shame���� he said. ��Such a shame�� you would have been such a dashing fiend.��

    Chastel studied Chronius with a predatory look, as if he were weighing whether to disobey his mistress�� orders or not, before quickly deciding against it.

    ��You are a man of honor, old chap,�� Chastel said with what could pass for genuine sincerity; a rarity for a heartless creature like him. ��Teach your daughter that same professionalism. Mdy��s trust in your word is the only reason you will both walk away tonight.��

    ��Yet you will never keep me out of your sight,�� Chronius guessed. The Knot would always keep him under surveince.

    ��Trust, but verify,�� Chastel japed. ��Are we done, my friend?��

    The memory of a pair of eyes staring at him from behind a closet crossed Chronius�� mind. He stared at Chastel��s disgusting smile, carefully considered his next words, and then answered.

    ��Yes,�� he lied. ��We��re done here.��

 Chapter Fifty: Deaths Spiral

    Chapter Fifty: Death''s Spiral

    Fior hadn��t been herself for many, <em>many </em>years.

    Mersie had been her life for thest decade: the confident, social, lively girl who rose from humble beginnings to mingle with high society. Whenever she felt doubts or hesitated, Fior always asked herself what her ymate would have done. She yed her role so perfectly that her face grew to fit the mask.

    Fior had lived the life her friend would have enjoyed, and she would give her the revenge that she deserved.

    Her knife flew at the same time as her enemy��s. She aimed at Chronius�� throat, and he at her weapon. The projectiles met in the middle of the bridge, steel kissing steel, and both fell to the ground together.

    The Archer��s aim was impable. Fior couldn��t grasp why a heroic ss could choose this monster for a vessel. But then again, the Assassin mark selected Fior in spite of the rivers of blood she had shed and all the lies she had spoken. It burned on her thigh, either because it relished the thought of fighting a fellow Hero or because it resented it. Fior didn��t care either way.

    Chronius could have been the Fatebinder and she would still have hunted him down.

    Fior raced across the bridge before her throwing knifended, her body surging with superhuman strength and speed granted by her mark. Chronius immediately retreated towards the church while throwing another projectile over his shoulder. He didn��t even need to look at Fior to target her head and she barely drew a dagger in time to deflect it.

    Fior had trained decades in the art of knife-fighting to one day kill the man the same way he had murdered her father, but the gulf in experience between them remained vast. She hoped her youth and determination would let her prevail.

    She pursued Chronius, leaping over a well dug into the courtyard and chasing him inside. The building��s old doors crumbled with a single kick. A cloud of wood and stone dust filled her nostrils. Chronius led her into an ancient hall of rotten benches and cracked columns. The fading sunset was soon reced by serene moonlight, the Earthmoon��s orange glow refracting through broken stained ss and a hole in the ceiling. Four windows representing the Four Artifacts adorned the walls under twin balconies, with the Windsword and Firewand facing the Earthcoin and the Seacup. An unblemished statue of the Goddess Arcane stood tall at the end of the hall, her faceless visage hidden under a cowl.

    Chronius hastily turned around, kicked a wooden bench at Fior, and threw another knife at her. Fior leaped over the former and deflected thetter in midair without slowing down. Her foe��s aim was pitch-perfect, but Fior��s reflexes let her block his moves in turn. She knew Chronius was trying to dy her long enough to reach an elevated position where he could snipe her at his leisure. He might have seeded back in his prime, but age dulled his speed.

    Both the Assassin and the Archer were the Rogue��s vassals, andplemented each other. Closebat against long-range. The distance between them would determine this lethal game of tag��s oue.

    Chronius would die all the same once Fior caught him though. Only demons survived her touch because they had no soul to lose, but this murderer chose to retain his foul excuse of one. Fior would rather skewer Chronius the same way he murdered her father and watch him bleed to death for hours, but she would settle for instant death if he proved too troublesome.

    ��I won��t let you escape,�� Fior warned him. She had worked too long for this. ��No one wille to help you either.��

    She had spent weeks nning this ambush and covered all the possibilities. Her butler Camilus would ensure that no one wandered near the church, including that girl, Erika. Fior briefly wondered if she was a cultist in disguise too, but locals attested that Chronius raised her from infancy. Neither could she find any hint of Knot activity in the Wisepeak area.

    Strange as it sounded, Chronius appeared to have indeed retired from his cruel work.

    ��I��ve seen your ��<em>daughter</em>.���� The very word made Fior want to puke. ��Did you kill her parents too? Did you steal her from her crib with your bloodsoaked hands?��

    The fact that this man could so easily set his weapons aside, clean his dirty hands, and then enjoy a quiet retirement like nothing ever happened viscerally disgusted Fior. This murderer built his happiness on the sorrow and regrets of countless innocents.

    Chronius answered her questions by throwing two knives: one at her throat, the other at the ceiling. Fior hastily parried the former at the same time the second projectile hit a wooden beam. An ominous crack noise resonated across the church.

    Realizing the danger, Fior hastily ducked to the left as half the roof copsed upon her.

    Tons of stone debris poured from above, crushing the benches and filling the hall with a cloud of sawdust. A few small stones hit Fior��s back as she ran, but she managed to take cover behind a somewhat intact pir. She pulled up her scarf to breathe through the dust and waited for the copse to end.

    When half the ceiling turned into a pile of debris burying most of the hall, Fior dared take a peek from behind the column. She saw a sh of steel shine in the dark and quickly took cover. A de cut her left cheek open, and would have taken out her eye had she proved slower. Fior winced as she felt her blood drip down her jaw.

    ��What have you done to Erika?�� she heard Chronius ask her from afar, his voice calm butced with cold anger. ��My daughter knows nothing of my crimes.��

    Fior thought ambushing the Archer in a closed-in ce with no exits would give her an advantage, but his power let him notice a tiny structural defect and target it. Small objects could be projectiles, andrge ones moving hazards. Now he had her pinned between a pir and a wall with little room to manoeuver.

    Good thing she came prepared.

    Fior checked the knife Chronius threw at her earlier. Its de remained stuck in the wall opposing her from a diagonal position. Fior checked the wound on her cheek, then used the form of the cut and the projectile��s angle to calcte its trajectory. Chronius struck her from an elevated ce to her left; most likely the balcony leading to the belfry.

    Fior had memorized the church��syout prior to this confrontation and could think of a way to reach it quickly. She managed to catch a peek of the room, locating the debris and noticing a peculiar object untouched by the copse.

    <em>The statue</em>, Fior figured out after as she drew one of her aces-in-the-hole: a small light runestone hardly bigger than her thumb. The Goddess rarely smiled on her, but tonight might prove the exception.

    ��I��m not a monster like <em>you</em>,�� Fior replied after gathering her breath and preparing to sprint. ��I don��t kill innocent women and children.��

    She threw the stone to her left.

    A knife immediately intercepted it right before Fior closed her eyes. She heard the runestone shatter in a blinding sh of light. Its essence became radiance itself, filling the hall in bright bottled sunlight.

    Fior rushed out of her hiding spot with her eyes closed and followed her own mental map of the room. Her senses, honed through years of training, guided her feet. She sensed a projectile miss her hair by an inch, and another bouncing off a wall nearby.

    Her n was working. The Archer mark imbued Chronius with supernatural precision and reflexes, but he still needed to <em>see</em>. Fighting him in a long-range duel was a doomed effort, so why bother making it fair?

    <em>��When the game is rigged, cheat,�� </em>Robin used to tell her. She would have loved to thank him for the advice before all this.

    When the light died down enough for Fior to see again, she found herself facing the Goddess�� statue. She quickly climbed up it in an instant with catlike grace and used it as a tform to jump towards the balcony. Most of it remained halfway intact, save a few holes in the walkway.

    Chronius faced her on the other side of it, right next to the door leading to the belfry. One of his hands covered his remaining eye and the other threw a knife at Fior upon hearing hernding. She easily dodged and retaliated with her own projectile.

    Her throwing knife nearly nailed Chronius in the forehead, but he managed to dodge at thest second. Her de cut through the left side of his head right above the ear, slicing his eyepatch and the bone below. The cloth fell off alongside strands of hair, revealing a mass of scarred flesh adorned with the Archer��s silver mark.

    Chronius fled through the belfry��s door with Fior hot on his tail. He ascended upward a flight of stairs while covering his wound to the best of his ability. He was out of shapepared to his pursuer though, and quickly lost ground.

    ��Do you only pick fights you are certain to win, you <em>craven bastard</em>?!�� Fior snarled from behind. ��You can��t run away from me forever!��

    Chronius stopped halfway through his ascent.

    His sudden change in behavior took Fior aback enough for her to halt her pursuit too. She drew a dagger in one hand and kept the other free to use her lethal touch. She prepared herself for another trap or surprise attack.

    Instead, Chronius wiped away the blood from his wound and stared at it in silence.

    ��I see it now���� he muttered to himself. ��It��s my own�� which I always wanted to see.��

    The madman licked the blood off his fingers.

    Fior suppressed a surge of disgust, then continued to climb her way to Chronius. She hardly took a step up before her foe turned around to face her. Something in his gaze and posture sent chills down her spine. His dted pupil reminded her of Chastel��s feline eyes, and his stoic scowl swiftly turned into a frothing snarl.

    Chronius grabbed a longknife strapped to his chest and leaped at her with a bestial scream.

    Her prey��s startling change of behavior shook Fior to the point that she could hardly raise her dagger to protect herself. Chronius shrieked and raged like a demon, wildly striking at Fior, with the violent sh of their steel nearly sending her tumbling down the stairs.

    It was like the Archer had be an entirely different person. Even his bodynguage had changed, turning from cool and calcted to frenzied and bestial.

    <em>Is he possessed?</em> Fior��s essence training didn��t detect any hint of demonic influence in the man. The change was entirely natural, the same way a peaceful dog might turn rabid when pushed into a corner.

    Fior had heard of freak idents where men developed different personalities after ingesting too much emotional-rich essence. Their mind splintered into many pieces, while the soul remained singr. These madmen were akin to actors, except their roles took on a life of their own.

    Was this bloodthirsty beast Chronius�� true self rising to the surface once his mask of humanity slipped? It reminded Fior of Chastel in all the wrong ways, but the cat demon at least behaved more coyly. The killer facing her didn��t intend to y with his food.

    He went straight for the kill.

    The Assassin��s power could kill anyone in a blink, but it required direct skin contact to activate. The frenzied beast striking her didn��t give her any openings. Chronius struck and sliced and raged, his de relentlessly shing her. The fact he had the higher ground gave him the advantage, and Fior struggled to predict his wild movements.

    Chronius had fought defensively in their previous shes. He had tried to scare her away and tire her out rather than focus on pure offense, but the beast inside him didn��t bother with self-preservation. Fior clenched her teeth as she was forced to step down again and again by the relentless barrage of attacks, the sh of steel echoing louder than a bell��s toll.

    Then she slipped.

    Fior��s foot missed a step and Chronius�� knife slipped past her guard the moment she caught herself. A sharp de struck her hip, its tip kissing her flesh and emerging from the other side. Then came the pain, sharp and intense. Fior bit her tongue to swallow a scream.

    Her dagger struck Chronius in the chest somewhere below the ribs. The Archer��s blood felt so warm on her hand. She had almost forgotten its sensation since she became the Assassin; her power killed without a trace and spared her the need for bloodshed.

    If Chronius felt any pain, he didn��t show it. His free hand grabbed Fior by the throat while trying to disembowel her with the other.

    A fatal mistake.

    Fior immediately sensed the moment their skin connected. She felt the pull of her power show her the golden thread binding a soul to its earthly vessel, the invisible fetter that allowed the Goddess to imbue living creatures with a spirit. Chronius�� own looked so thin to her, so fragile. She had killed old crooked men and vile young women, strong warriors and weaklings; in each and every case, the frontier between life and death proved to be a thin veil indeed.

    Her mark burned on her thigh. Her power issued a warning that using it now would have terrible consequences, but Fior was long past caring.

    She should have died fifteen years ago already.

    Stripping a man of his soul usually took an instant, but Fior sensed her power rebelling when she tried to do the same with Chronius. Her mark and the Archer��s both glowed brighter than stars in the stairway��s darkness. The sses fought back against their wielders.

    <em>Kill us both! </em>Fior pleaded with the Assassin��s mark, if it could hear her thoughts and prayers at all. <em>Send me back to them!</em><em>To Mersie, Father, Mother, everyone! Send me�C</em>

    The stone step crumbled beneath Fior, and she stumbled.

    The weight of Chronius pushed her down onto her back and her foe��s momentum sent him flying over her head. They both fell down the stairs, Chronius a bit more harshly than her. The sensation of her mark burning on her skin vanished, though the pain of the Archer��s knife stuck in her hip did not.

    Fior��s fall ended halfway down the stairs while her foe rolled all the way to the bottom. His bestial scream turned silent with a loud crash as his head hit the ground. Fior gathered her breath, her body growing unbearably cold.

    <em>I��m losing blood.</em> She tried to rise up without removing the knife stuck in her for fear of worsening the wound, but the pain paralyzed her. Her own legs had be weak, her elbows wading against a puddle of her own body fluids. Fior clenched her teeth and looked over her shoulder at Chronius.

    Her father��s murderery in a puddle of blood too, one fed by the wound on his head and the dagger stuck in his chest. He lookedatose and stiffer than a corpse, but the Archer��s mark lingered nheless.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    He was still alive.

    Fury stronger than the pain briefly surged through Fior. She tried to crawl towards Chronius to finish him off, only for a cramp to paralyze her. Her vision grew blurry.

    <em>No, no, no��</em> Fior had given the kiss of death often enough to recognize the early signs of blood loss-induced shock. She struggled to remain awake.<em> I��m so close��</em>

    But while her will was strong, her body had already given up. Dust covered her fading vision. She sensed something��<em>someone</em>��grab her shoulders and press a hand on her wound. Fior wheezed, her head struggling to peek at a form looming over her. A woman��s frame appeared cast by the moonlight.

    ��Mersie?�� Fior whispered.

    No, it couldn��t be. Mersie��s hair was blond, not ck, and she was long dead, her future stolen. Could it be the Goddess Herself,ing to take her chosen Assassin to the Soulforge to be reborn anew? Or did shee to punish Fior for shedding blood in her sacred house?

    Fior��s mind soon faded into the darkness. Shadows drowned the moonlight until she couldn��t see anything.

    Her ears heard many things though. She heard Mersie��s screams and the gnashing noise of Chastel��s teeth closing on her bones, the screams of her mother, the droplets of her father��s blood hitting the floor, the wails of her cousins and so many others. Their voices haunted her nightmares for years; and now they followed her fall into the dark, into a deep abyss of numbness beyond life��s warmth.

    She thought they would fall silent with Chronius�� death, that his murder would finally buy her the silence she craved. She hoped that her loved ones would find peace. Their ghosts instead continued to haunt her like they did for so many years.

    They dragged her down into the cold.

    <em>Is this death? </em>It had been Fior��spanion for so many years, almost like a friend. She had shared it freely and without remorse. <em>It is so frightening��</em>

    It would have been better if Fior were to perish alone, free, and with a clear mind. Death was crueler because it refused to lift her burden. Her regrets and sorrow continued to cling to her, denying her peace and satisfaction.

    Fior was used to it. She had only felt happiness once since that awful night she stepped out of the secret passage and wadded her way through an ocean of corpses. Only once.

    With <em>him</em>.

    And even then, she didn��t stray from her path. She hesitated and hermitment wavered, but she still chose to avenge the dead over honoring the living. Why would she choose otherwise? Fior should have died with them that day.

    Her life had been nothing more than a brief dream.

    A light pierced through the darkness. Her eyelids felt heavier than stones, her flesh numb to pain and pleasure alike. She sensed cotton underneath her fingers and linen against her back. Air struggled to enter her lungs, but the dead had no need to breathe.

    Was she�� <em>alive</em>?

    Fior��s eyes struggled to open. The sunlight burned them until they managed to limate to it. When they did, she saw someone sitting on the other side of a long bed, with crimson hair and eyes bluer than her own. She thought he was a ghost until she heard him sigh in concern.

    She recognized him instantly.

    ��Robin?��

    What a <em>mess</em>.

    I still couldn��t believe how close we had been to losing both of them. Had Eris not teleported to the church in time��and had wecked the foresight of trading her emergency medical skills in case this turned ugly��then these two would have perished in a pool of their own blood.

    Even then, it had been an uphill battle to keep them alive. Eris managed to stabilize them long enough for Mirokald to guide our airship to their location after burning through most of our runestone supply to power the engines, but unconscious people couldn��t consent to life-saving trades.

    I thanked the Goddess for Wisepeak hosting an apothecary��s academy. The good doctors and their witchcrafting treatments saved two lives today.

    For now.

    I could see the anger written all over Mersie��s face. Once the shock of seeing me passed, her eyes immediately burned with seething hatred. We only managed to postpone the bloodbath.

    ��Where is Chronius?�� Mersie asked me. I wouldn��t have minded a few more pleasantries first, such as<em> ��how are you?��</em> or<em> ��how long have you been since Snowdrift?��</em> but only one subject upied her vengeful mind. ��Did he survive?��

    ��He��s in the next room over,�� I replied. ��Wounded, but alive.��

    Mersie��s expression twisted into a dark scowl. She attempted to rise up, only for the shackles binding her hands and legs to the bed to stop her. My ex-lover stared at me in disbelief. ��You��ve chained me?��

    ��We chained you <em>both</em>,�� I replied. I wished I didn��t have to resort to this. ��This takes us back, doesn��t it? We were dating thest time this happened.��

    My attempts at easing the mood with nostalgia fell t. ��Unchain me, Robin!��

    ��No,�� I replied, kindly but firmly. ��That pointless fight of yours is over.��

    ��That man is a <em>murderer</em>!�� She all but started screaming at me. ��He��s a cultist, a beast in human skin!��

    ��And he��s still a Hero at the end of the day.�� If we had given a second chance to the likes of Cortaner and Eris��who had more blood on her hand than the rest of our generation put together��then I <em>had </em>to give Chronius the benefit of the doubt. ��Besides, I can��t have you kill him under a hospital��s roof.��

    ��It��s not <em>your </em>father he murdered!�� she snarled at me. Her words gnawed at my resolve, but I hid my doubts behind a mask ofposure. ��He��s thest of them! Once he��s gone�C��

    ��Then <em>what</em>?�� I asked her with all theposure I could muster. Couldn��t she see two steps ahead? ��You will let his daughter kill you toplete the circle? Assuming your butler won��t take revenge on your behalf? What am <em>I </em>supposed to do, Mersie, let you kill each other? When does this end?��

    ��It ends when he <em>dies</em>,�� Mersie insisted with a baleful re.

    ��And what will happen next, assuming you survive the attempt?�� I shook my head in frustration. There was no way my group could allow a Hero to murder another. ��Camilus told me how you ordered him to keep that girl Erika away from the battle site, but she��s in the same building now. What are you going to tell her when you walk out of her father��s room with his blood on your hands?��

    She clenched her teeth. ��That the monster <em>deserved </em>it.��

    ��And what will you do when shees for your head because she feels that <em>you </em>deserve death?�� I pushed. ��Let her kill you? Murder her too? Or will you offer her your life in penance?��

    Mersie��s guilty silence was an answer in itself.

    She saw the simrities between her and Erika. She knew where that grudge would lead, as did I. Their conflict would continue to spiral further and further. Only the actors would change.

    ��If I must,�� Mersie replied, so low I almost didn��t catch it.

    I blinked in disbelief. I prayed I��d misheard. ��What?��

    ��I will offer my life,�� she said, a bit more firmly. ��If I must����

    I suddenly realized my mistake. Mersie <em>did </em>consider her quest��s aftermath. Whether she defeated Chronius or not, she never intended to survive the battle.

    Mersie had a death wish. No wonder she blew off any chance at a normal life.

    I cursed myself for not noticing it sooner. Was she trying to atone for her crimes in some twisted way? Or join her dead family afterpleting her mission? Whatever the case, I couldn��t let my oldest friend throw away her life like this.

    I had to consider my words very carefully. Every sentence counted.

    ��Mersie, dying won��t bring you redemption�C��

    ��She��s still trapped in my house, Robin,�� she interrupted me, her voice filled with sorrow and despair. My old lover looked down at her bedsheet, her gaze devoid of hope. ��Along with the others. Their souls haunt its blighted walls and won��t pass on. When I close my eyes, I hear them calling out to me����

    My hands clenched into fists. I learned from my visit to the Deadgate that souls didn��t work that way. Only powers like mine could shackle them. The mirages haunting House Salvadoreen were nothing more than echoes and memories, the same as the illusory remnants that we met in the north.

    I knew Mersie wouldn��t listen to a rational argument. The ghosts tormenting her existed as much inside her own head as those inside the long-sealed Salvadoreen Manor.

    ��They will never rest until I avenge them, Robin,�� Mersie said, her hands trembling. ��I <em>must </em>do it. For their sake.��

    ��Those ghosts will fail to find peace even if you seed, Mersie,�� I countered. ��Blights only disappear when drowned in hopes and dreams. You can��t pour blood on an open wound and expect it to close. What would you do if you kill Chronius and find that the curse lingers nheless?��

    Mersie didn��t respond. Maybe she had considered the question once, but found herself afraid of facing the answer. She had to know deep down that her crusade wouldn��t let her find peace.

    Mersie had spent decades focusing on tracking down her family��s murderers without giving thought to how she would rebuild her life afterward. Chronius�� death would give her no more sense of closure than Chastel��s. Hence she would rather take death as the easy way out.

    I took her hand into my own. Mersie could kill with a single touch, but her grip was awfully weak and her skin so terribly cold. She felt like a corpse lingering on the Deadgate��s threshold.

    ��Mersie?�� When she failed to answer me, I gathered my breath. ��Fiore?��

    Hearing her true name seemed to jolt her back to thend of the living. I guessed it had been years since someone called her this way. Her own butler stuck to<em> ��Mdy,�� </em>and so few knew the woman hiding behind the Mersie mask.

    ��We can destroy the Blight haunting your home without killing anyone,�� I promised her. ��We��ve seeded in Snowdrift. We can do the same with Goldport.��

    ��I can��t forgive that man, Robin,�� she whispered, though she didn��t pull her hand away. ��<em>Ever</em>.��

    ��I never asked you to.�� I had no right to demand that of her, and I fully empathized with her desire for payback. I hadn��t forgiven Florence of Arcadia for unleashing the Purple gue that slew my parents either. ��But death isn��t the only punishment avable. Sometimes, life is crueler.��

    Colmar and I had left Florence alive so she would bear the weight of failure for the rest of her miserable existence. Belgoroth probably wished he was dead too, trapped in his broken sword for the Goddess knew how long it would take to purify his mark too.

    I wasn��t willing to let Mersie kill Chronius, but I couldn��t let him go free either.

    ��My powers offer other options than perpetuating a cycle of murders,�� I insisted. ��You��ve already tried settling this feud the Assassin way, Fior. Will you let me try to do it the Merchant way?��

    Mersie stared at me for a good while, her hand squeezing mine. Though we were no longer together, our bond remained stronger than an ancient oak. I was her closest friend, and she trusted me enough to tell me of her true identity back in Snowdrift.

    More than anything, she knew that I always fulfilled my promises.

    ��What do you have in mind?�� she finally asked, albeit tentatively.

    I suppressed a sigh of relief. Mersie was willing to leave the door unlocked. It was now up to me to open it.

    ��A settlement,�� I said. ��Backed by a contract.��

    I exited her bedroom a good hourter, gently closing the door behind me. Soraseo stood watch over the hallway outside alongside four inquisitors, though they were mostly there to keep the two patients away from each other. My fellow Hero met my gaze without a word. By now, I could tell what she thought without the use of words.

    ��There��s hope,�� I said, my gaze facing the bedroom left of Mersie��s. ��If he��s willing to listen.��

    Soraseo nodded sagely. ��Fear is only as deep as the mind allows.��

    I epted the subtle encouragement, pat Soraseo on her shoulder, and then entered Chronius�� room.

    When our sses were first assigned, a childhood spent reading tales of the Glorious Generation��s tales made me picture the Archer as a dashing rogue living in the woods, robbing the rich to give to the poor. The bed-chained man in front of me couldn��t be farther apart from this mental image. He was way too old for a start, and traded any charm he might have for stoicposure. Few men would sit so calmly when chained to a bed with more bandages than skin in the presence of an unknown individual, even one as charming as dashing as myself.

    <em>Hard to believe he once filled graveyards on the Lord of Wrath��s behalf. </em>

    We both assessed one another in an instant. The Archer��s right eye stared at me with calm eptance, the mark on the other side glowing slightly. His power likely picked up on each of my bodynguage��s details.

    <em>I can��t deceive this one.</em> I recognized Chronius�� serene predisposition not for the calm confidence of a man in control, but the grim eptance of a condemned criminal facing the noose. <em>He thinks he��s already doomed. </em>

    ��I��m not here to kill you, Mister Chronius,�� I reassured him after sitting on a chair near the bed. ��My name is Robin Waybright.��

    ��You are the Merchant.�� Chronius�� gaze lingered on my hand��s mark. ��I��ve heard of you.��

    ��In a good way, I hope.�� Interesting. Either Eris mentioned me when she visited the Archer, or he liked to keep an ear to the ground. I considered thetter likely considering his former Knot membership. ��You don��t strike me as a man of pleasantries, so I��ll skip straight to the chase. Do you <em>want </em>to die?��

    Chronius considered my question for a few seconds before answering, ��No.��

    ��You took longer than most to decide.��

    ��I do not <em>fear </em>death,�� Chronius replied tly. ��But I have someone to live for.��

    ��Your adoptive daughter, I assume?�� An easy guess. I��d met Erika a few hours earlier��quite the friendly gal��and she looked <em>nothing </em>like Chronius. ��Eris is entertaining her downstairs. We told her you had an ident near the church and that you required medical treatment before we could allow for a visit.��

    Chronius�� eyebrow arched ever so slightly. So he <em>could </em>be surprised.

    ��Will you let her?�� he asked, his voiceced with disbelief. ��Visit me?��

    ��Of course. You aren��t a prisoner.�� I nced at the shackles. ��These chains are for your own safety.��

    Chronius briefly studied me, his power no doubt trying to decipher if I meant what I said. The Archer couldn��t force the truth out of someone like the Inquisitor, but I doubt anyone could lie to his face without getting caught.

    ��You visited the Assassin first,�� Chronius guessed.

    I didn��t deny it. ��I wonder what gave it away.��

    ��Your fingers,�� he replied. ��You held her hand.��

    ��You have a sharp eye.�� I crossed my legs and opened up the negotiations. ��I��m here to settle the feud that opposes the two of you. Mersie agreed to bury the hatchet and let you keep your head on your shoulders, for a price.��

    Chronius straightened up. He hadn��t expected a peaceful settlement. ��What kind?��

    ��You owe her for the loss of her family, so she is willing to let you go if you can return them back to life.��

    ��I can��t do that.�� Chronius looked away. The guilt and sorrow on his face didn��t strike me as fake. ��I wish I could, but I can��t.��

    I assumed as much, but this helped rify the feud��s root and context.

    ��In that case, since you owe her a life, she��s willing to spare yours if you dedicate it to her,�� I said. ��Your indentured servitude will begin with helping her clean the Blight haunting her family��s home and then extend to however long she sees fit. A magical contract drafted by yours truly will ensure that you cannot disobey her, nor free yourself from your servitude until either Mersie grants you back your freedom or fifteen years have passed.��

    Chronius scoffed, his bandages straining against his lean frame. ��You offer me very over death?��

    ��<em>Indentured servitude</em>,�� I insisted, both to Chronius and to myself. This settlement left a sore taste in my mouth as well. ��Believe me, you can��t fathom how much I argued to tone down your punishment and how much I dislike it.��

    I oftenmuted harsh sentences intomunity service back when I assisted ire in doling out justice, but this went far beyond it. Chronius was right, it did approach very. This oue gnawed at my principles, both as the Merchant or as a human being.

    My bargaining position was unfortunately slim. Whatever good deeds he had done over thest years, this man <em>did </em>help murder Mersie��s parents, friends, and other loved ones without paying for it. My former lover wouldn��t settle for anything less than a harsh punishment. We also couldn��t let the Archer rot in jail for years either.

    Complex problemscked easy solutions.

    ��The contract will include uses that will prevent Mersie from abusing her position, such as sending you to certain death, inflicting harm on you, or denying you your basic rights,�� I exined. ��You will enjoy the same perks and protection as a valued employee and bodyguard, but unfortunately for you, that��s the best you��ll get. You��d already be dead or in a cell if not for your ss. The list of your crimes is frighteningly long.��

    Chronius snorted at the offer. ��I��ve served so many masters,�� he said. ��It always ends in blood and tears. My�� my <em>sickness </em>will see to that.��

    ��Don��t be so hasty,�� I replied. ��Your daughter informed me that you had a condition requiring heavy medication, though she didn��t give me the details. I can use my power to strip you of it for good.��

    ��You can��t remove the <em>urge</em>,�� Chronius said with fatalism. ��I��ve tried everything. The best I could do was bury it.��

    ��I��ve stripped a Demon Ancestor of all the world��s hatred and cured countless of the Purple gue. I can deal with your illness���� I leaned in his direction to better face him. ��<em>If </em>you want to be cured, that is.��

    A glimmer of hope shone in Chronius�� skeptical gaze. It was brief, like a shooting star in the night sky of his own doubts and denial, but I caught it nheless.

    I didn��t have all the details about Chronius�� condition, but the potions that he took ording to his daughter fit treatments used for asylum patients. His former Knot of Wrath membership led me to assume he suffered from mood swings or violent episodes.

    I felt some sympathy for this man in spite of his crimes. I could survive my body betraying me, but my own <em>mind</em>? My own sense of reality? It would make me doubt <em>everything</em>.

    ��Mersie is also willing to provide a generous financial settlement for Erika��s education,�� I added to ease his burden. ��She��ll be taken care of.��

    Chronius pondered my words in silence for a while. I couldn��t me him for his thoughtfulness. The deal I proposed wasn��t exactly ideal, even if it let him keep his head and gain a cure for his condition. He would spend hisst years serving another rather than raise his daughter in peace. Chronius enjoyed his current life enough to fight the Assassin over it.

    ��What��s the alternative?�� he asked me, tentatively.

    <em>Do you really want me to say it? </em>

    ��Easy.�� I shrugged my shoulders. ��You and Mersie will <em>both </em>die.��

    Mersie refused any oue where Chronius wouldn��t pay a heavy price for his crimes, and his adoptive daughter wouldn��t agree to let her father��s murderer step away. If both parties insisted on pursuing their feud to its logical conclusion, then I could only see one way to end this spiral.

    ��The Fatebinder will recall both of your marks, executing you in the process, then have every party sign a magical contractpelling them to surrender their right to take revenge on either party��s behalf,�� I exined. ��Your daughter will be orphaned and Mersie��s butler left jobless, but they��ll be free to resume their lives without fear of retaliation. This feud will be settled atst and everyone will be worse for it.��

    As much as I loved Mersie from our past history, I was fully willing to go through with this option if she and Chronius proved unreasonable enough to settle for this. I couldn��t exactly save people who refused the chances I gave them.

    This ghastly deal was the best alternative option I coulde up with. Eris informed me that Lady Alexios was unwilling to let a Hero y another. While she would rather keep both the current Archer and Assassin alive if possible, she feared establishing a dangerous precedent more.

    Chronius didn��t appear surprised by my counteroffer. He must have guessed that he would likely end up hanged in a noose one day or another. The peaceful life he��d enjoyed for so many years had been purchased with the blood of innocents, and his time hade for him to pay it back with interest.

    I was a Merchant. I could only offer <empromises</em>.

    ��If you can think of a better alternative, I can draft a new proposal and present it to Mersie,�� I told Chronius. His bargaining position was slim, but I was willing to entertain other options.

    ��That won��t be necessary, Lord Merchant.�� Chronius gathered his breath. ��I�� I ept your terms.��

 Chapter Fifty-One: Journey to the East

    Chapter Fifty-One: Journey to the East

    I usually preferred casinos over libraries, but Wisepeak��s might make me reconsider.

    The citynded second among Pangeal��s most prestigious academic centers, being narrowly edged out by the Everbright Empire��s Imperial Academy of Magic in Sra, but it famously housed thergest library in the world. I didn��t fathom just how <em>big </em>it was until I entered it and faced spiraling shelves higher than some castle��s towers.

    The Wisepeak Library dizzied the mind in its grandeur. The building stretched over three floors connected by a maze of ornate staircases and winding balconies. A horde of researchers, schrs, priests, and adventurers poured over ancient texts under the soft glow of light runestones; the staff had to use <emdders </em>to reach the highest books. I passed by private reading rooms and ssrooms tucked away in the quieter corners, filled with snoring students and bored academics.

    <em>I could spend a lifetime in this ce and never read more than a fraction of its collection.</em> I was too much of a talker and an extrovert to linger in such a ce for too long, but the sheer amount of information within its walls appealed to my greedy heart. <em>Knowledge leads to power and opens up opportunities.</em>

    ��Excuse me?�� I asked a nearby schr in an Arcane Abbey garb. ��Where��s the geography section?��

    ��Two floors down, left wing.��

    I thanked him and went on my way. Climbing down the stairs left me winded by the end of it, but I finally found the section. Marika and Benicio sat around a wooden table covered with piles of maps and an as.

    ��So, any luck with your studies, Beni?�� I teased them after grabbing a chair and joining them. ��The exam is tomorrow.��

    Little Beni stuck his tongue at me, much to his mother��s amusement. I took it as a good sign. Because of his maturity, I often forgot that he remained a child.��We��ve found leads, <em>Professor </em>Waybright,�� Marika replied with a chuckle. ��How did your sales go?��

    ��Wonderfully. I sold off all of our timber.�� As I guessed, a city of schrs paid top price for good wood to print books with. Mister Fronan would have to forgive me.

    ��Why did you even bother taking all that wood with us?�� Marika asked with a frown. ��You can transport it across great distances with a stroke of a pen.��

    ��To avoid warehouse fees,�� I replied. I liked Greybeach��s people, but the budget had no friends, only expenses. ��Most importantly, I also sold twenty songboxes.��

    Beni beamed with pride. He had helped me brainstorm that product��s name.

    The timber sale had only been a ruse, a pretext to introduce the library��s staff to soundstone technology. Songboxes represented an evolution from our previous designs thanks to their ability to record sounds on reusable wax cylinders. Most importantly, they looked easy to use and <em>practical</em>. For academic institutions, those points mattered quite a lot.

    ��Once a learning center of Wisepeak��s reputation adopts soundstones, it��s only a matter of time before other universities imitate it,�� I exined. ��I bet the Imperial Academy of Magic will send us an order within the year.��

    ��If they can catch us before we move away,�� Marika replied before presenting me with an as of Pangeal. ��Here are the spots you wanted us to find.��

    I studied the map carefully. It showcased a dozen points spread across all of Pangeal and the four Seasonal Seas. This considerably narrowed down the range of our research, but the fact that half a world��s worth of distance separated some of these ces worried me. We couldn��t afford to pick the wrong destination.

    A puff of smoke erupted out at my side, as if on cue. ��My, my, aren��t you looking all studious?�� Eris teased them upon sitting beside me. ��I should have bought a pair of sses to look smarter.��

    ��I��ll trade your bad eyesight for my tone-deaf singing,�� I joked back. ��How were things in the Arcadian Freeholds?��

    ��Far too quiet.�� Eris peeked over her shoulder to ensure no one eavesdropped on our discussion, then leaned in to conspire with us. ��Fronan and the Ranger are convinced that the Shadow of Envy has left the Arcadian Freeholds for the southeast.��

    I digested the information, then exchanged a nce with my fellow Heroes. If Eris was right, then I feared our journey would soon grow even moreplicated.

    ��What makes them think so?�� I asked.

    ��A trail of faceless corpses pointing in that direction,�� Eris replied with a grim frown. ��It led the Ranger and her allies all the way to a Knot stronghold and a dozen murdered cultists.��

    That caught my attention. ��The Shadow massacred them?��

    ��There��s a civil war among the Demon Ancestors and Knots?�� Marika asked with a glint of hope in her eyes. It would certainly help us if our enemies wiped each other out. ��Shouldn��t they be on the same side?��

    ��Belgoroth wanted to burn down the world, his former teammates included,�� I pointed out. The Ancestors cooperated when their interests aligned, and fought when they didn��t. ��What is the Shadow after?��

    ��<em>Everything</em>, my dear Robin. It��s in their nickname.�� Eris crossed her legs, a thoughtful frown forming on her face. ��ording to historical records, the Shadow��s madness usually follows a specific pattern: they would find someone in high ce in society, steal their face and name, and then live their life for a time until they inevitably grew bored of it. Then they moved on to the next victim and repeated the process all over again.��

    Little Benicio and his mother both shuddered, as did I. From the way Eris spoke, I gathered that these <em>��historical records�� </em>were an euphemism for her own memory.

    ��That��s quite the ghastly hobby,�� I said. ��Butpared to Belgoroth��s world-destroying aspirations and Daltia��s desire to reshape the cosmos, I do find it strangely <em>small-minded</em>.��

    Eris smiled at me. ��All Rogues are <em>takers </em>by nature, Robin. The ss was designed to bring down the overly mighty and teach humility to the arrogant. Building the future is <em>your </em>job, my dear Merchant.��

    ��Thank you for your trust,�� I replied as I pondered her words. The Rogue and the Merchant were rivals and opposites, same as the Knight and Mage or the Ranger and Bard. ��I imagine my opposite number would be someone focused on the <em>small-scale</em>; a person who cares more about individuals thanmunities and infrastructures.��

    ��Now imagine those roguish qualities and ws exacerbated to their worst extreme,�� Eris said. ��The Lord of Wrath was the ultimate Knight, the world��s best warrior; so much that he waged war on <em>everyone</em>. The Shadow of Envy is the greatest Rogue: the kind who exists only to steal and tear down the work of others.��

    Little Beni formed a series of hand signs which his mother quickly tranted. ��Beni asks if the Rogue can steal memories?��

    ��Good question, my dear child.�� Eris nodded with a sigh. ��The Rogue can steal <em>anything </em>from anyone they can touch, and yes, that includes their memories. The Ranger believes they struck a hideout belonging to the Knot of Greed in search of information.��

    ��That��s what I figured,�� I said. ��It can��t be a coincidence that the only active Demon Ancestor we know of suddenly decided to move in the same direction as the Devil Coins. They must have discovered Daltia��s n while ��interrogating�� her cultists."

    Marika��s jaw clenched tightly. The prospect of potentially encountering another Demon Ancestor didn��t please her in the slightest. ��How strong is the Shadow of Envy? Compared to Belgoroth?��

    ��You��ve seen what Mersie could do, and Chronius can shoot a wyvern flying above the clouds with a bow,�� Eris replied. ��Imagine their ssesbined in a single vessel. Records say that the Shadow is nowhere near as dangerous as the Lord of Wrath in battle, but they��re lethal both at range and up close. They can also change identities like they do clothes.��

    ��Belgoroth was a warhammer, this one is a dagger,�� I summarized. Both were equally dangerous in very different ways. ��Whether the Shadow wants to sabotage the Devil of Greed��s n or hijack it, we��ll have to remain vignt. I��m sure we��ll encounter them at some point.��

    ��I fear the same,�� Eris replied with a sigh. Her gaze wandered towards the as. ��What��s that?��

    ��A list of confirmed miracle sites,�� Marika exined.

    I quicklyyered the as with a map of the Devil Coins�� recorded movements. ��We know that Daltia is trying to forge a fifth Artifact, and that the Devil Coins are converging in one spot,�� I said. ��If we assume that the Devil Coins each hold a demon��s soul, or at least serves as the anchor preventing them from passing on, then Daltia likely intends to use them as raw material for her crown. Or at least this sounds like the most usible exnation yet.��

    ��Makes sense,�� Marika replied with a scowl. ��While the Artifacts each represent a function of the world, they all possess a physical form of their own. The Windsword allowed Arcados the Green to wield it when he established the Arcadian Freeholds.��

    ��And you can only soulforge adamantine in a very few special ces,�� I said. ��Namely, spots where the whole world��s flow of essence gathers; ces which the Goddess herself visited or where the Four Artifacts reunited to pull off miracles.��

    We already excluded Mount Erebia, since it was the most defended ce in the world, alongside a few simr sites. Considering their general directions and Mirokald��s own observations, we identified three potential sites for where the Devil Coins could potentially converge: the Pit of Apocris in Irem, the Kazandu Peak in the Shinkoku Empire, and the Spiral Maw in the Spring Sea.

    ��It��s quite the selection,�� I muttered to myself. ��They��re all half a world away.��

    ��We can already exclude Irem though,�� Eris replied almost immediately.

    I raised an eyebrow. ��Why��s that?��

    ��Because that��s where the Lich of Gluttony is currently sealed,�� Eris replied. ��Her power turned her into a near-mindless creature with an all-consuming hunger for essence. Much like generations of Fatebinders have used Mount Erebia��s energies to contain the Curse of Pride, disturbing the local flow in any way risks breaking her seal. At best, the Lich risks interrupting the forging ritual; at worst, she��ll consume the crown and its gathered souls.��

    ��Irem hosts the best exorcists in the world too,�� Marika suggested.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the vition.

    The more I considered the Irem option, the more I leaned against it. While I strongly disagreed with Irem��s colonialist policy, they possessed a highly organized state with plenty of witchcrafters. Daltia would have little hope of harnessing the local essence without alerting legitimate, anti-demon authorities. Between the danger of the Lich of Gluttony usurping her bid at godhood and the risk of interruption, she would likely opt for an easier location.

    Which left the Shinkoku Empire��s Kazandu Peak, an immense mountain in the heart of Soraseo��s homnd, and the Spiral Maw. I didn��t know much about thetter, except that it was a storm-wracked remote region of the world whose reefs hosted an astronomical quantity of shipwrecks carried by strong currents.

    We��d intended to stop in the Shinkoku Empire on Soraseo��s behalf, but reaching the Spiral Maw would require much preparation. The Spring Sea was sparsely popted and filled with dangerous creatures.

    Eris slouched in her chair. ��You��ve seen the Devil of Greed, Robin. How did she appear to you?��

    How strange that we talked of her other self in such distant terms. I knew we couldn��t risk being overheard��not to mention that few among us Heroes knew her secret��but I sensed Eris was doing her best to mentally distance herself from her worst parts.

    ��She came to me dressed like the Goddess Herself, wrapped in gold,�� I recalled, ��with the arrogance and mirth to match.��

    ��She sees herself as the new Goddess,�� Eris confirmed, a hint of guilt in her voice. No doubt she didn��t like that sphemous part of herself. ��The same Goddess who forged the Artifacts atop Mount Erebia, the world��s tallest mountain.��

    She pointed a finger at the Shinkoku Empire.

    ��This,�� my lover said, her nail highlighting Kazandu Peak��s written name. ��This is the world��s <em>second </em>highest mountain.��

    Marika stifled augh. ��She would be <em>that </em>petty?��

    ��Her ostentatiousness does imply a certain desire topensate for something,�� I joked back. I sensed Eris lightly kicking me under the table. ��Would she choose <em>that </em>peak though? Symbolically, it would be admitting that she was the Goddess�� shadow rather than her equal.��

    ��She��s the Devil of <em>Greed</em>, not the Curse of <em>Pride</em>,�� Eris replied. ��Unlike thetter, her pragmatism will temper her arrogance. Trying to forge the crown in Erebia itself would be suicide, so I think she��ll settle for what she can get away with.��

    I raised an eyebrow. ��Are you certain of yourself, Eris?�� I asked her. ��We may not have the time to visit every location in time. If we guess wrong, all of Pangeal will pay the price.��

    Eris shifted in her seat. She understood my hidden question clearly enough: considering the risk of letting Daltiaplete her crown before we could stop her, was she absolutely certain of her hunch? She feared being influenced by her other half as much as she hoped that their bond would give her insight into the Devil��s ns.

    ��Dear Robin, no one should ever be certain of <em>anything</em>,�� she replied with a sorrowful sigh. ��Unfortunately, other news makes me lean in that direction too. I wanted to wait until our Monk joined us before discussing the matter, but I received a warning from the Arcane Abbey��s spywork. The Shinkoku Empire has fallen into dark times since the emperor��s demise.��

    Of course things could never be so simple. I could wager a guess on what caused these internal troubles. Soraseo��s father, the Shinkoku Emperor, perished some time ago and her younger brother inherited the throne; since rulership followed a strictw of primogeniture where both women and men could inherit, Soraseo��s mere survival represented a challenge to her sibling��s im. Her banishment wouldn��t stop ambitious nobles from rising up in her name, especially if word of her earning a ss had reached them.

    Eris met my gaze and confirmed my fears with a sigh. ��It��s worse than you think, Robin. The new putative emperor is ten years old.��

    ��<em>Ten</em>?�� Marika asked, her son��s head perking up with interest.

    I let out a groan of frustration. This was the story of Archfrost��s civil war all over again. ��Let me guess,�� I said. ��He��s too young to rule as emperor, so an unpopr regent disastrously rules in his stead?��

    ��Brings back memories, doesn��t it?�� Eris shifted ufortably in her seat. ��Two councils of regents have begun to wage war over which of them will rule in the young emperor��s name. A third side mors for the return of our dear Monk to lead the country, and the Arcane Abbey��s spies also reported signs of demonic activities in the countryside.��

    ��The Knots hope to destabilize the country,�� I guessed. ��A state torn by civil war can��t effectively protect its important sites.��

    ��Lady Alexios also fears the chaos will spread beyond the Shinkoku��s borders,�� Eris added. ��Their empire has been violently colonizing Seukaia for years and tensions with Irem never truly disappeared either.��

    When she put it this way, the Shinkoku Empire appeared to be our best bet. Its weakened state, the presence of demons, and its symbolism would make it the ideal site for Daltia to forge her crown once she gathered the Devil Coins together.

    ��It could be bait though,�� I said. Daltia had proven herself to be the most insidious of the Demon Ancestors. I wouldn��t put it against her to send us false signals in order to divert our attention.

    ��I will contact other Heroes and see if they can keep an eye on the other sites,�� Eris suggested. ��I believe Professor Chandraj was due to give a conference in Irem, and the Dancer lives there too. Neferoa��s fleet can reach the Spiral Maw quickly too.��

    ��I say we try our hand with the Shinkoku Empire, Robin,�� Marika argued. ��We were already nning to visit the country anyway, and Soraseo can guide us.��

    With no more objections from my part, I simply nodded slowly. Maybe I was simply overthinking this. I��d grown so used to trying to solve the world��s problems by myself that I struggled to trust that others could assist.

    Our battle with Belgoroth proved me wrong already. Our group was only a faction of Heroes among many, each more talented than thest. I��d trusted Rnd to safeguard our homnd in my stead; I had to extend the same feeling to our other allies.

    I checked over the map to decide on our next destination. I would have wanted to make a stop in the Everbright Empire both to sell our stock and meet with a publisher to distribute Colmar��s book, but the fastest itinerary would take us through the Rivend Federation. We could make a stop at Goldport to gather supplies then fly straight to the Shinkoku Empire.

    Thankfully, I knew someone who could help with that.

    I could almost <em>taste </em>the hatred in the air.

    Healing Chronius and Mersie of their wounds didn��t take long once both awakened. I��d grown proficient at shifting injuries around to volunteers so they would hardly feel anything. But not even the Merchant��s power could cure emotional scars so easily.

    Chronius reached the <em>Colmar </em>first, alongside his adoptive daughter. He looked more like an eyepatched scarecrow than a man to me, so gaunt and lean a simple gust of wind would throw him to the ground. It was all an illusion though. I��d spent enough time among warriors to sense the depths of hidden strength and lethal precision that the man carried within him. His daughter, Erika, came along while carrying a heavy bag on her back; her adoptive father would have an easier time transporting it, but I assumed she refused to let him carry it so soon after he left the hospital.

    Mersie and her butler Camilus followed closely behind. She wouldn��t let Chronius escape her baleful gaze for a second, and her twitching fingers informed me that my contract struggled to keep her from attacking him on sight. Erika often nced at Mersie over her shoulder; she could sense the murderous hostility and didn��t know enough about my power to trust it to prevent hostilities. Only Camilus appeared calm among this motley crew.

    Soraseo and Eris closed the marchst. The former��s grim scowl told me everything I needed to know about her mood. I must have looked the same when I saw Snowdrift��s downward spiral with my own eyes.

    She greatly cared for her homnd, even after it rejected her.

    ��Wee aboard the <em>Colmar</em>!�� I greeted them in front of our ship��s entrance. ��We��ll soon leave on a one-way trip to Goldport! Make sure you��ve brought all your belongings before our flight!��

    ��Should we subscribe to a lost luggage insurance policy first, Robin?�� Eris teased me back. ��Every good shippingpany has one.��

    ��We��re still finalizing the details,�� I joked back. I didn��t miss the nces Mersie sent us. ��Please ept free drinks as an apology.��

    ��Only if they��re good.��

    Erika whistled upon observing the <em>Colmar </em>closer. ��Can this thing really fly without wings?��

    Chronius studied the structure for a moment before answering his daughter. ��Hot air and wind essence fill the balloon until it can lift the ship��s weight,�� he guessed. ��They��re carrying heavy-weight cargo.��

    ��A live stusk, to be precise,�� I replied. ��You have a good eye, if you��ll forgive my wording.��

    Chronius shrugged, much to his daughter��s amusement. ��You know, I always hoped to meet with Heroes after Dad received his mark,�� she told me. ��You aren��t how I imagined the Merchant to be, Lord Robin.��

    ��You imagined a big-bellied banker with a rounded hat, mayhaps?�� Her blush amused me to no end. ��You <em>did</em>?��

    ��I thought you��d be <em>old</em>,�� she replied with sheepish embarrassment, before following it with a bow; mostly to hide her crimson cheeks. ��I swear I won��t be a burden to you or Dad.��

    ��You won��t be,�� her father said, his voice suddenly a bit colder than before. ��Go. I��ll follow soon.��

    Erika tensed up, her gaze wandering from her adoptive father to Mersie. She didn��t miss the re thetter sent the former. ��Dad, are you sure?��

    ��Go,�� Chronius repeated a bit more firmly. ��I��ll be fine.��

    Erika opened her mouth to protest, but a dark look from Chronius silenced her. I reassured her with a nod of my own. Nothing would happen under our watch.

    ��Let me show you around,�� Eris said as she grabbed Erika��s hand before she figured out what to do next. ��This ce is a maze, and we don��t want you to fall off the rail.��

    Mersie sent a nce to her Butler, who quickly followed after Erika with his mistress�� own luggage. They disappeared with Eris inside the airship��s entrails, leaving Soraseo and I alone with our feuding teammates.

    ��You didn��t tell her,�� Mersie said, her voice brimming with hatred. ��What you <em>did</em>.��

    ��I�� I couldn��t bring myself to do so,�� Chronius replied as he turned to face Mersie. He answered her venomous hatred with guilt and sorrow. ��I am sorry. I understand that my words mean nothing to you, but I am sincere. If I could bring your family back�C��

    ��But you <em>can��t</em>.�� Mersie spat on the ground. ��Your daughter and our fellow Heroes are the only reason I agreed to spare you for now. If you give me any reason��<em>any</em> reason��to think you��re straying back into your old habits, then I <em>will </em>destroy you, contract or not. Remember it.��

    Chronius scowled, then nodded in assent. He didn��t have the will to contest her judgment. He knew he deserved her hatred.

    ��Are you sure you want to bring your daughter along?�� I asked in an attempt to change the subject. I didn��t mind bringing family members��we carried Little Beni with us long before he gained a mark of his own��but Erika would be far safer in Erebia than Goldport. ��We will not return to Wisepeak anytime soon.��

    ��She didn��t leave me any choice,�� Chronius replied gruffly. ��She thinks I��ll get myself killed without supervision.��

    Mersie sneered in disdain. ��You won��t get off that easily.��

    ��What about your���� I cleared my throat. ��<em>Compulsions</em>?��

    ��The urge is�� gone,�� Chronius replied, albeit with some skepticism. ��For now at least. It alwayses back.��

    ��Yourpulsions are gone for <em>good</em>.�� I used my power to seal them inside a fruit, to ensure it would rot away and take that odious mental illness with it. I couldn��t see any scenario that warranted keeping an urge to murder others in my stock. ��Your future��s in your own hands. Any action you take from now is your choice alone.��

    Chronius�� jaw clenched slightly. ��So will my regrets.��

    ��Good,�� Mersie said icily. ��I won��t ept any excuses from you.��

    ��I understand.�� Chronius gathered his breath. ��What will you have me do then?��

    Mersie snorted. ��Get out of my sight for a start.��

    Chronius waited a second, and then stepped into the <em>Colmar </em>without another word. Mersie watched him disappear inside the ship, her baleful re only softening once he was truly gone.

    ��So,�� she told me, smiling slightly. ��You and Eris?��

    ��Yes,�� I replied, though her question did cause a slight surge of sorrow to course through my chest. Mersie��s eyes brimmed with regrets. She knew our chance to be a couple had long flown by. ��You��re still one of my best friends. That will never change.��

    ��A meager constion,�� Mersie replied with what could pass for eptance. I guessed she had made peace with it. ��I appreciate it though, Robin, and your assistance in providing us with transportation.��

    ��We��ve decided to move to Goldport for supplies,�� I replied. ��I figured that since you intended to lift your house��s Blight, we could give you a lift to it.��

    Mersie��s gaze darkened. ��It has been so long since I visited that ce, Robin. I��m afraid of what�� of <em>who </em>I��ll find there.��

    I hesitated an instant, then embraced her into a tight hug. She returned it quickly, her graceful arms closing around my back in a tight grip. For a brief instant, I didn��t hold the fearsome Assassin, but a wounded victim burdened with a terrible past too heavy for her to carry alone.

    ��We��ll help you,�� I promised Mersie. ��You won��t do it alone. It��s not our first time exorcizing a Blight.��

    ��We have in many demons,�� Soraseo added. ��We will put yours to rest, Lady Mersie.��

    ��Thank you.�� Mersie let go of me, her fingers soon wiping away newborn tears before they could truly form. ��I��m�� I��m sorry. I��m exhausted.��

    ��Don��t apologize,�� Iforted her. ��Go sleep, if that��s what you need. I��ll wake you up once we reach Goldport.��

    ��You are kind, Robin, but I��ll pass.�� Mersie looked up at the clouds above us. ��I want to see the sky.��

    ��You��ll love it,�� I said. Mersie smiled sadly and then walked into the <em>Colmar</em>. I turned to Soraseo as we prepared to board ourselves. ��Are you ready to return home?��

    Soraseo shook her head. ��No, Robin, I am not. But I must.��

    I figured as much. ��I��m here if you need a listening ear.��

    ��What use is an ear that does not listen?�� Soraseo replied with a hand on her sword��s pommel. She appeared to briefly hesitate about telling me something before taking me up on my offer. ��My brother�� my brother was there that day.��

    My heart skipped a beat. ��When you����

    I was afraid toplete my sentence and say it out loud, so Soraseo finished it for me.

    ��When I slew my mother.�� My friend looked away in guilt. ��He was there. He <em>saw </em>it.��

    The new emperor wouldn��t be giving us a Hero��s wee.

 Chapter Fifty-Two: Contractual Intelligence

    Chapter Fifty-Two: Contractual Intelligence

    The first rule of doing business abroad was to cross thenguage barrier.

    I had seen thisw confirmed many times in my Ermeline days. Men reasoned in terms of tribes andmunities, between members and outsiders. A foreigner was always treated worse than a local in great and subtle ways. People would make fun of them in their own tongue, knowing they wouldn��t be understood; they would seem like easy prey for swindlers and conmen eager to make a quick buck; or certain matters would be kept from them, because they wouldn��t understand the situation.

    Wealth and political clout helped close that gap, but they could never truly erase it. By contrast, outsiders who knew thenguage always enjoyed a certain degree of respect, because they had made an effort to <em>fit in</em>.

    Hence why I insisted that everyone aboard learn the Shinkokan tongue.

    ��Niga nae daehaeseo nani-o wakatte���� Marika smiled sheepishly, sweat dripping from below her red headband. ��Irunda?��

    ��What do you know about me?�� I tranted.

    ��Good,�� Soraseo said with a genuine smile. She very much enjoyed being able to speak with someone in her native tongue, even someone who didn��t speak it fluently like Marika. ��I will answer now. Nega nae chingu-raneun geol ara, Marikasan."

    <em>I know that you are my friend,</em> I tranted in my head. From the way Marika blushed, she understood it as well.

    The Shinkokannguage was quite difficult to grasp because it was actually a mix of <em>two </em>different ones. From what I gathered from Soraseo��s teachings, the country used to be split in two for a long period and neither side was willing to surrender their own native tongue after unification. The empire��s linguists settled on creating a highly contextual mix that used the grammatical rules of one and words from the other.Ever the professional, I��d taken good care to ask Soraseo about her homnd and prepare our team for our trip there. Since her power made it easy for her to master anguage, I had her seal her knowledge of the Shinkokan tongue in a headband, regain it, and then begin to practice with the others. I expected that we would all speak it fluently by the time we departed from Goldport.

    <em>Now if only we could all get along</em>. I gave the <em>Colmar��s </em>lounge a cursory nce. Chronius stood in a corner, his attention firmly focused on the drifting clouds beyond the portholes. He did his best to ignore Mersie, who kept him in her line of sight at all times even as her butler served her tea. <em>It��ll be a while before they can cooperate as a cohesive unit, if ever.</em>

    Those two��s enmity stood in stark contrast with Beni and Erika, who quickly struck up a fast friendship. They upied the table near ours, albeit one swamped with chemistry books rather than Shinkokan scrolls. Beni transformed a small wooden puppet into an iron one in a sh of light before presenting it to his new tutor.

    ��Amazing!�� Erika pped happily. ��You��re a real magician, Beni!��

    The boy smiled with pride. Between her and Tehri, Beni loved to collect big sister figures and feltfortable around them. Or maybe Erika reminded him of his mom.

    Considering Erika would likely stay with us for a while and Beni needed practice to master his ss, we had debated about revealing his true nature as the Alchemist to her. I��d expected a stronger pushback from Marika considering her panicked reaction to the story leaking out when Beni first gained his power, but she proved less adamant than I thought.

    ��From what I gathered, she knew her father was a Hero from the start but kept it secret when he asked her to,�� Marika had argued back then. ��She understands the risks we��re exposed to. Besides, I can tell she��s a reliable girl.��

    I also suspected that the fact Erika and Beni hit off quickly also helped. She probably reminded Marika of Tehri.

    However, Marika did insist that I write up a contract for Erika and her father to sign to prevent any leaks. I had to purchase her ability to reveal that information to outsiders. While Erika felt too pleased about being considered trustworthy enough to be involved in ��Heroic business�� toin about the contract, her father reacted with skepticism.

    ��You might regret tying our tongues like this one day,�� Chronius had warned us with his usual stoicism, and while I was tempted to agree, Marika wouldn��t budge on this matter. Even telling them about her son��s powers at all was a tremendous show of faith on her part.

    Thankfully, this risk had already paid off. Erika was proving to be an excellent tutor for Beni, especially after I granted her ess to Colmar��s journal. The Alchemist��s power could turn any matter into another with a touch, but it struggled with a potent requirement: namely, the user had to at least vaguely understand the chemicalposition of what he intended to turn his target into. Since Benicked his predecessor��s century-long experience, he had to study extra hard to catch up.

    ��Alright Beni, we��ll try something harder this time.�� Erika flipped the pages of a chemistry book until she found an entry on alloys. ��Let��s go with <em>stainless </em>steel next. You��ll have to add chromium on top of carbon and iron.��

    ��You are quite the tutor, Erika,�� Marika said. ��Are you sure you don��t want me to pay you for your services? I can afford it.��

    ��No need, mdy,�� Erika replied, her eyes wandering to Colmar��s journal. ��Getting ess to this kind of research is worth more than my weight in gold. Mister Colmar was truly a genius ahead of his time. His notes on emergence are <em>fascinating</em>.��

    ��Emergence?�� I asked, suddenly curious.

    ��It��s a well-known theory about how aplex entity gains properties and behaviors that its parts do not have on their own.�� Erika handed me Colmar��s journal; the page she settled on showed a very detailed sketch of a human skull and its contents. ��Like this. Mr. Colmar discovered that no specific part of a brain is responsible for consciousness, and that this phenomenon only appears when all of them work together. It��s revolutionary!��

    <em>Interesting. </em>I��d mostly read Colmar��s entries on his personal history, especially when it rted to his investigation of the Purple gue and the Knots, and neglected his more scientifically-minded observations. I had been more interested in getting to know my friend as a person than reading technical notes on subjects that often escaped me, in spite of all the skills I had umted.

    Browsing through his observations on how very tiny parts of the brain called ��neurons�� interacted made me realize my mistake. As a disembodied soul upying a piece of clothing, Colmar had gained a keen insight into the nature of consciousness and how it rted to the brain.

    <em>��How is it that brain damage can cause amnesia, when a soul does not require one to umte knowledge?�� </em>I read in my head.<em> ��Were a soul to be extracted from a body and that vessel was left functioning, could it continue to learn and grow on its own not unlike a newborn? Multiple cases of previous life memories proved that the souls of the deceased reincarnate through the Soulforge, but the world��s poption has only grown since its creation. Hence, where do new soulse from?�� </em>

    I would usually leave these esoteric, existential questions to researchers and philosophers, but Colmar��s words struck a chord with me. They fit into another project of mine.

    ��Mind if I borrow this for a moment, Erika?�� I asked her.

    ��Oh, of course not, sir!�� Erika hastily handed me back the journal. She was still unused to being surrounded by so many Heroes. ��I didn��t think a Merchant would be interested in biology.��

    ��You��d be surprised,�� I replied with a small chuckle. ��Inspirationes from unexpected ces.��

    Mersie stopped her surveince of Chronius long enough to smile at me. ��You have an idea in mind, Robin?��

    ��Always.�� Although it was a bit too early for me to make a judgment on its viability. ��Don��t mope in a corner, Mersie,e and join us.��

    Mersie��s smile widened further as she answered in a familiar tongue. ��Oresama amugeotdo morundaneun geol ara.��

    I wasn��t the only one who nced at her in utter surprise. I��d spent enough time in Soraseo��s presence to tell that Mersie��s ent was near perfect.

    ��You can speak Shinkokan?�� I asked, dumbfounded.

    ��Mdy is well-versed in Rivendian, Archfrostian, Iremian, Everbrightian, and Shinkokan,�� Camilus replied as he poured his mistress her share of tea. ��Though I would say her Fire Ind dialect needs some work on the ent.��

    ��I have your teachings to praise for my sesses, Camilus, and my missed lessons to me for my shorings,�� Mersie mused. ��I hope I didn��t butcher your native tongue, Lady Soraseo.��

    ��You did not.�� Soraseo gave her a small, respectful nod. ��I am impressed. You spoke in a tone that was���� She scowled and struggled to find the right expression. ��Tongue twisted?��

    ��Tongue in cheek?�� I suggested.

    ��Is the tongue not always hiding behind the cheeks?�� Soraseo shook her head. ��Your metaphors never cease to confuse me, but I confirm the meaning.��

    Mersie proved her supremacy over a foreignnguage the same way I did: with a joke that I��d somehow missed.

    ��You should join us when we set sail for the Shinkoku,�� I told Mersie. ��You would fit right in.��

    Mersie sipped from her tea, her gaze calcting. ��Maybe,�� she said without too much confidence. ��Depending on how things go in Goldport����

    Chronius briefly nced at her, and then returned to staring at the clouds in grim silence. Fortunately, Eris chose this moment to teleport into the room in a puff of smoke before an awkward silence could fall onto the lounge.

    ��You have a knack for appearing at the best of times,�� I told my lover. ��Are you doing it on purpose?��

    ��Of course I do. One should always strive to be <em>memorable</em>, Handsome.�� The sight of our work tables amused Eris to no end. ��My, my, since when have you all be so studious? This is the second time I��ve found your nose buried in books while teleporting in.��

    ��We��ve left those wild phases behind us,�� I replied. ��For now.��

    ��Good, because I kinda miss them.�� Eris boldly sat on myp as if she owned it, much to Mersie��s slight dismay. ��Is Miro behind the flying wheel again?��

    ��He volunteered,�� Marika replied. ��I''ll relieve him in two hours.��

    While Mirokald��s power indeed made him the perfect fit for the job, I had grown convinced that he simply came to enjoy guiding the <em>Colmar </em>and watching it drift across the clouds. I also suspected that he yearned for moments of solitude now and then.

    ��Honestly, I��m looking forward to it,�� Marika said while stretching her neck. ��I can��t wait to take my brain off from all this grammar.��

    ��Mind if I pick your brain first?�� I asked. ��I know you won��t, but I��ve got to ask first.��

    ��Aren��t you feeling bold today, Robin?�� Marika chuckled. ��But sure.��

    ��I have good news for you too, Handsome,�� Eris said before brazenly snatching Colmar��s journal out of my hands. ��Remember that publisher you contacted to distribute ourte Alchemist��s works? Well, I��ve arranged for him to visit us in Goldport, free of charge.��

    ��You did?�� Something about her mischievous smile aroused my curiosity. ��Are you nning a prank, my naughty nun?��

    ��Of a sort,�� she replied with an enigmatic wink. ��You won��t be the punchline, I promise.��

    Now I found myself <em>deeply </em>curious. Eris clearly struggled to suppress herughter. What could be so possibly funny about me meeting a book publisher?

    ��I��ve also paid a visit to our fellow Heroes and spread the word about what we��ve learned,�� Eris said after returning the journal. ��The Spy is following the Devil Coin trail too, though they insisted that I don��t visit them again to avoid blowing their cover. They said they would contact us in time.��

    Soraseo picked up on her odd wording. ��They?��

    ��I don��t know what they truly look like,�� Eris confessed. ��The Spies of the world can change their voice and appearance at will, though unlike Robin or the Rogue, they do not need another��s�� <em>contribution</em>. Their ss can even hide its own mark.��

    I could see why they wouldn��t want Eris to contact them. The Spy was a Vassal ss of the Bard specialized in infiltration. Many tales spoke of older generations saved from death��s jaws in the nick of time when one of their enemies revealed themselves as their ally in disguise. I doubted that Knot members would likely react kindly to the Wanderer popping up out of nowhere to address one of them.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Whatever the case, I was relieved to know other Heroes worked to foil Daltia��s ns. The more of us who focused on her, the lower her chances of winning.

    ��I��ve also met with the Necromancer and the Shaman,�� Eris said. ��Since they��re currently in Goldport��s vicinity, they��ve agreed to meet with and help us destroy its Blight.��

    Mersie��s head perked up, as did Chronius. ��That��s�� good,�� said the former, her voiceced with anxiety. ��Good����

    ��It��s quite the fortunate coincidence,�� Marika noted.

    ��They were on their way to board a ship and meet with Professor Chandraj in Irem, since they��re his Vassal sses,�� Eris exined. ��They��re a <em>weird </em>pair, but they��re both talented exorcists. I can vouch for their professionalism.��

    That said quite a loting from her.

    ��I��m gonna take a pause from the Shinkokan lessons,�� Marika decided, her hands swiftly removing her headband. ��Sorry, Seo.��

    ��You have nothing to apologize for,�� our friend replied, her fair face morphing into a bittersweet expression. ��I had happiness conversing in my native tongue with another. I missed it very much.��

    Her answer broke my heart. Marika and I exchanged a brief nce, which Mersie caught on. She sipped her tea a moment before addressing Soraseo in Shinkokan.<em></em>"Neorang renshu hago sipeo.��

    <em>I would like to practice with you,</em> I tranted in my head.

    Mersie��s words broke Soraseo out of her pensive mood. "Gippeuge, Mersiesan,�� she replied in Shinkokan, with the two soon engaging in conversation. I suppressed a sigh of relief.

    Marika quickly decided to change the subject. ��Anyway, Robin, what did you want to discuss with me?��

    ��Let��s go for a walk first,�� I replied before closing Colmar��s journal and kissing Eris on the cheek. ��Care toe with us?��

    ��With pleasure.�� Eris rose up from myp. ��I teleport so often that I almost forget to stretch my legs now and then.��

    The three of us left the lounge soon after for the engine room. I took a moment to admire the airship��s pulsating pipes and the subtle ways the metal walls vibrated from the flow of essence coursing through them. The sight only reignited my desire to test out Colmar��s theories and put them into practice.

    ��Your ex has a good heart, Handsome,�� Eris said. ��I can see why you were so fond of her.��

    ��She does,�� I confirmed. Moments like this gave me hope that my old friend could one day break out of her vengeful mindset and build herself a new, <em>better </em>life.

    ��I worry about Seo though,�� Marika replied. ��I thought she was getting better after Walbourg, but����

    ��She misses her homnd as much as she fears returning to it,�� I guessed.

    ��Yeah.�� Marika nodded. ��She feels that way to me too. I��m not sure if she��s ready to face her countrymen again.��

    ��The die is cast, Marika,�� Eris replied while looking aside. ��You can��t ovee your past if you do not confront it.��

    She probably said these words for her own sake rather than our friend, but Marika nodded in understanding nheless. She too had to face her past trauma in the form of her ex-husband and came out stronger for it.

    We finally reached the engine room. The very essence furnace that fueled our airship roared there, its alloyed steel frame thrumming as automated ropes and pulleys poured runestones in its burning embrace. Heat and steam coursed out of its long brass pipes spreading across the <em>Colmar</em>.

    If our airship was a body, then this ce was its beating heart.

    ��It��s quite hot in here,�� Eris noted. ��Are you nning to open up a sauna, Robin?��

    ��Next year,�� I replied, much to my friends�� amusement. I paused to examine the machinery. I found it quite impressive how everything worked in tandem to keep us leagues above ground. ��What do you think of that emergence theory Erika mentioned?��

    ��Well, we stand before one of its illustrations,�� Marika pointed out. ��The <em>Colmar </em>does not require much of a crew because we animated its individual parts until they all worked together in harmony."

    I nodded sharply. ��My thoughts exactly. Thanks to my power and yours, we��ve managed to animate the <em>Colmar </em>and the <em>Verni </em>beforehand. It��s quite the achievement.��

    ��You created a marvel, but you��re hardly pioneers when ites to animation,�� Eris replied with some skepticism. ��Irem managed to create golems that didn��t require harvested souls to function. The <em>Colmar��s </em>real strength is its ability to fly.��

    ��You see���� I smiled as my hand caressed a piston. ��I don��t believe that��s the case.��

    Marika squinted at me. ��What are you getting at, Robin?��

    I presented her with Colmar��s observations on the brain and soul. ��Colmar wondered how consciousness worked,�� I exined while Marika and Eris read on. ��I��m asking that question myself. If you give an object the ability to learn, to remember, to act, all these tiny pieces that make up an individual�� then at which point will that <em>object </em>be a <em>person</em>?��

    Marika��s skin turned milky white in spite of the heat. She had caught on to my idea. ��You want to see if the <em>Colmar </em>can achieve<em> sentience</em>?��

    ��<em>Yes</em>!�� I confirmed with enthusiasm. ��Exciting prospect, am I right?��

    ��Quite the frightening one, yeah!�� Marika protested. I took it as an invitation to step up my game and convince her. ��Robin, you��ve seen Will��s work. You know what it takes to imbue an object with a soul.��

    ��That��s the beauty of the idea, we aren��t going to steal someone��s soul and incorporate it into the <em>Colmar</em>; we��ll see if it can <em>gain </em>one on its own by incorporating all the tiny parts that make up a person except that one.�� I smiled ear to ear as a bold, catchy name for the project suddenly came to mind. ��I want to create the first <em>Contractual Intelligence</em>.��

    ��It��s an interesting trail of thought, Handsome,�� Eris replied, albeit with some reservations. ��However, you shouldn��t ask yourself whether you <em>can </em>do it, but whether you <em>should</em>.��

    ��She��s right!�� Marika shook her head, her face pale with disbelief. She was usually happy to join in my projects, but that one seemed a step too far for her. ��By the Goddess, Robin, why would you want to imbue our ship with a mind of its own? What��s the point?��

    ��Besides the insight it will give into consciousness and the human condition?�� My smile faded away. ��I believe that this project will help us destroy Daltia��s crown.��

    Eris�� eyes widened, her gaze quickly turning thoughtful. ��Emergence����

    ��Yes,�� I confirmed. ��All hints that we have so far indicate that she intends to unite the disparate souls she collected into a single Artifact of tremendous power, or at least fuel it. The thing is, we don��t understand yet <em>how </em>all of these tiny parts will assemble into a greater whole. And in the worst case scenario, where we fail to stop Daltia from forging her crown in time�C��

    ��Understanding the process might teach us the means to reverse it,�� Marika whispered, her hand stroking her chin. ��Or at least sabotage the false Artifact.��

    ��We do not know enough about the mechanics of the soul either, since our sses won��t let us affect them,�� Eris continued. ��The Devil of Greed enjoys a huge lead over us in that field of study.��

    I could read between the lines. Daltia spent many centuries experimenting with her Merchant ss in order to master the secrets of the soul. Her research led to the creation of the Devil Coins, the Soulforged Adamantine items preserving the Demon Ancestors�� immortality, and her own keen insight into how the masses�� beliefs affected our sses. When she and Eris diverged, the demon kept most of that knowledge and left us to fumble in the dark.

    ��Since my ss won��t let me directly affect souls without triggering its safeguards, I was thinking about researching them<em> in</em>directly,�� I exined. ��We vaguely know demons can function without a soul by filling an empty husk with a person��s darkest desires, but are they truly autonomous or still connected to the original soul? If so, can we reverse the process? Where do soulse from?��

    ��I can already tell you that Daltia does not know the answer to that question,�� Eris replied. ��She wouldn��t need to purchase souls if she could create them.��

    ��I don��t expect this project to yield all the answers either,�� I replied. I had no doubt Daltia already tried a simr approach in the past, if only toplete her Artifact. ��But any insight we can glean could give us the edge in the final confrontation.��

    Eris remained skeptical. ��I��m not sure you fullyprehend the consequences of this project of yours, Robin. You cannot create new life, then put it in storage and forget about it.��

    I scoffed. ��Eris, are you saying I would make a poor father to my baby ship? I��ll take my responsibilities.��

    ��Not with that attitude, you won��t,�� Eris replied calmly. She took in a long, deep breath. ��There was once a Ranger who thought she could create a new form of life beholden to her will alone with the Devil��s help, and she used her creations to cause untold amounts of pain and destruction. Your homnd is still dealing with the consequences of their mad ambition to this day.��

    I winced. She had hit a nerve. Eris helped the first Ranger create the beastmen with an atrocity that she bitterly regretted to this day.

    ��Beastmen weren��t a mistake,�� I argued, before quickly catching myself. ��Their creation was the result of an immense act of cruelty, true, but many of them have made this world a better ce. Colmar helped save Pangeal, and the Hunter ss selected Mirokald.��

    ��What I am saying is that we are treading on dangerous ground, Robin,�� Eris warned me. ��You cannot put that lightning back in its bottle, even if you did so to prevent a storm.��

    ��But we aren��t sure if lightning will strike at all,�� I argued. ��The entire purpose of this exercise would be to understand how consciousness works. Besides, we are trying to create an <em>individual</em>, not a species.��

    ��The Arcane Abbey won��t care about the difference, and they won��t take kindly to it either,�� Eris replied. ��That��s the thing, Robin: we��ll be opening a door leading into a dark abyss. We cannot know where it leads.��

    ��I could say the same of all adventures,�� I countered. ��We may soon face an enemy with the power to bend all of Pangeal to her will. I��d say we can afford to take risks.��

    Eris scowled. She of all people understood the scale of her demonic self��s ambitions and the consequences of her victory. Taking down Belgoroth had cost us a teammate and demanded that we take great risks too.

    ��I agree that we should act boldly if we hope to win,�� Eris said after reconsidering. ��But did you see the amount of care a smart animal like Mirokald��s stusk requires? How do you intend to manage a moving ship a hundred times its size?��

    ��She��s not wrong,�� Marika conceded. ��The <em>Colmar </em>is our main means of transportation. Granting it sentience means it may refuse to follow orders or behave abnormally.��

    I thought it over. They had a point. I��d suggested using the <em>Colmar </em>as a test subject since we already did half the job by animating its parts without considering the potential consequences of our airship misbehaving.

    ��You share the same w as all Merchants, Handsome,�� Eris said with a heavy tone and a knowing look. ��You think too <em>big</em>. I would say to start smaller. A living toy will be less fanciful than a talking ship, but it will be much easier to manage and take care of.��

    She meant the toy as a joke, but I took it as inspiration. ��What if we built something for Beni?��

    Marika��s head perked up. ��Beni?��

    ��You worried about his safety, so what if we built him a bodyguard?�� I snapped my fingers. ��Nay, what if we built him a <em>friend</em>?��

    ��Like a pet golem?�� Eris mused. ��That would spoil him a bit too much, don��t you think?��

    ��You can��t put a price on a child��s happiness,�� I replied with a wink.

    Marika crossed her arms and pondered my proposal. ��Will had to steal souls to power his golems,�� she said. ��He thought it proved he was the better cksmith, that he could create weapons fueled by human will. His ��real children��, I think he called them.��

    ��Yourte husband was a madman,�� I replied. ��You��re a better person and weapon exorcist than he ever was.��

    ��I know that.�� Once Marika��s words would have betrayed a hint of insecurity; now they simply carried her confidence. Killing Will, defeating Belgoroth, and seeing Beni recover the use of his voice let her escape her ex-husband��s shadow. ��But if your n seeds and we give a golem a life of its own without stealing that of another, then it will prove Will <em>wrong; </em>that he <em>never </em>had to kill to create artificial life. It sends a message.��

    She wanted to inspire others to follow in her footsteps, and to ensure that her husband left nosting legacy.

    ��Okay, Robin, I��m sold,�� Marika decided. ��That��s your wildest, maddest, boldest idea yet, but I��ll do my part to make it happen.��

    ��I guess we can at least <em>try</em>,�� Eris said, albeit with some skepticism. ��And I suppose your ss�� safeguards will forewarn you should you vite its ethics.��

    ��I��ll listen to my mark, I swear,�� I said. I wouldn��t repeat her mistakes.

    Eris nodded sharply. She wasn��t entirely onboard with the project, but she was willing to take a gamble in order to stop Daltia. ��What would you require from me, Robin?��

    ��Contracts,�� I replied. ��Our goal will be to gradually infuse Beni��s new friend and protector<em></em>with pieces of humanity until it achieves personhood, but I can��t take too much from someone without killing them. You��ll need to help me find candidates willing to part ways with small parts of themselves, then have them sign the appropriate contract.��

    ��Dear, are you giving me <em>more </em>mailing work?�� Eris yfully wagged a finger at me. ��A good man wouldn��t overwork his girlfriend like this.��

    I chuckled and lightly kissed her on the lips, much to Marika��s bemusement.

    ��I��ll be sure topensate you for your trouble, Miss Brra,�� I promised.

    ��No need.�� Eris nced at the furnace with a thoughtful expression. ��You��re right, Robin. This might just make the difference.��

    Besides a few bits of turbulence, we safely left Erebia and reached the Rivend Federation without issue.

    It felt so strange watching my second homnd through a porthole above the skies. Though I was born in Archfrost, I��d spent most of my life in this country, scraping by in the city of Ermeline until I could take down Sforza and make a new life for myself. I��d left the Rivend Federation a nobody and came back as Robin Waybright, the Merchant who had helped Knight-King Rnd defeat the Lord of Wrath.

    I could expect a warm wee�� and an explosive one from the Knots.

    ording to Chronius�� sources, his former allies retained a strong presence in the city in spite of Mersie��s attempts to wipe them all out. Hence we all decided on a subtler approach by taking a slight detour along the coast. Our best bet was to stay beneath notice and obscure our movements as much as we could until we caught up to Daltia��s flow of Devil Coins.

    Abination of Mirokald obscuring our movements by hiding in the clouds and Mersie��s knowledge of the region let us approach Goldport rtively undetected. We had the <em>Colmar </emnd in an isted area away from prying eyes and then entered the city bynd.

    And thus Fiore Salvadoreen, thest heir of Goldport��s old ruling house, returned as a nameless traveler.

    ��I��m disappointed,�� I said as Mersie and I walked across the piers. The rest of the team was busy preparing our amodations or following other leads elsewhere. ��There��s nothing <em>golden </em>about this port.��

    The city breathed wealth and trade, with hordes of ships traveling up and down the rivers giving the country its name and venturing into the Spring Sea beyond. Cogs, carracks, galleys, skiffs, and even warships swarmed the western harbor in the shadow of great warehouses and noble mansions.

    But the piers were still made of wood and stone rather than gold.

    Mersie cracked a small smile, which I appreciated. ��A Merchant like you should know when to embellish a little, Robin.��

    ��Embellishing means there��s a grain of truth to it,�� I countered as we walked up toward the nearest Trade Guild office. Though House Salvadoreen was gone, Mersie still exerted considerable influence on the city��s administration and we hoped to recover shipping reports that would let us track down Devil Coins�� holders. ��They should have called it <em>Rockport</em>.��

    ��My family did not pick that name,�� Mersie replied, her smile fading into mncholia. ��Truthfully, I don��t even remember who first coined it.��

    I studied her expression for a moment. As I expected, returning to her hometown after so many years weighed on her mind. The memory of herte parents hung over this entire city. I��d felt the same when I returned to Snowdrift, so I understood her all too well.

    I should alleviate her mood however I could.

    ��How about you show me the city around?�� I asked. ��Perhaps the answer wille up in the most unexpected ways?��

    ��Careful, Robin,�� she teased me back as we walked among a crowd of whalers and sailors. ��I��ve heard the Assassin lurks around here. You never know what kind of dangerous woman you might encounter in a back-alley.��

    I��d missed our banter. I opened my mouth to tease her back when a familiar feeling coursed through my spine.

    Mersie��s head abruptly snapped to the side at passersby, as did mine. The impressionsted less than a second, but my friend��s reaction confirmed my suspicions.

    ��You sensed it too?�� I asked.

    ��Yes,�� Mersie confirmed, her eyes searching the crowd. ��One of us just passed by.��

    Another Hero walked by us without introducing themselves. I looked around, searching for them, but the sensation did not return. Whoever our colleague was, they had already left for a reason I couldn��t fathom.

    At least I noticed a startling and very unpleasant detail.

    My coin purse felt <em>considerably </em>lighter.

    I immediately grabbed it. Although I felt briefly reassured when my fingers closed on its leather, my relief didn��tst. The coins inside it had vanished.

    I froze in ce as my mind struggled to understand what just happened. The purse was still there and tightly closed. There was no way anyone could have pilfered the coins without either taking or opening it, unless��

    My foil had introduced themselves in a most typical fashion for their kind.

    ��I take back what I said, Mersie,�� Iined in annoyance. ��You should have called this ce <em>Roguesport</em>.��

 Chapter Fifty-Three: The Rogue and the Witches

    Chapter Fifty-Three: The Rogue and the Witches

    My day started off terribly.

    Running a stand at local markets rarely failed to lift my mood. The ambient frenzy of sellers doing their utmost best to catch customers in theirs, the spirited haggling sessions, the joy of finally clinching the deal�� How could anyone <em>not </em>feel energized when heating up in this boiling mercantile cauldron?

    s, being robbed left me in such a foul mood that Eris insisted on running the stall with me. I suspected she thought a smile and feminine touch would make up for my grouchy expression. She even covered the Wanderer��s mark with makeup to help us remain anonymous.

    Not only did obtaining official permission to sell wares prove difficult to obtain even with Mersie��s assistance, but the Seukaian embargo and the Shinkoku��s dynastic conflict had strangled the eastern sea trade. Half the stalls near us were empty and foreign merchants kept their purses extra-tight for fear of future troubles. Trouble andmerce mixed no better than oil and water.

    Then it began to rain, chasing away all but the bravest of adventuring buyers. I��d spent thest ten minutes sitting behind a stall under a roof of hide with Eris forpany.

    At least the embargo provided a goodmercial opportunity when it came to the pearl trade. When we left Graybeach, their prices had already increased five-fold; when we reached Goldport, they sold at <em>seven </em>times the amount I could have obtained a year ago. I��d managed to sell our entire stock in a morning��s time to various spectors eager to sit on them and wait for the price to increase further.

    I would have probably done the same in their situation, but we didn��t n to linger in Goldport too long. Moreover, I wanted to use our extra profits to buy supplies for our expedition and special runestones for the constructed intelligence project.

    ��You aren��t at your best, Robin,�� Erismented as she greedily counted our morning gains. ��You only managed to sell half our fur coats instead of all of them.��

    ��I��m still sore over yesterday��s robbery,�� I replied, my hands joined together and my eyes staring at the ck rain clouds. The gloomy weather perfectly fit my mental state. ��I feel dishonored, nay, <em>vited</em>.����Come on, handsome, don��t look so grumpy,�� Eris teased him. ��It��s an ancient heroic tradition for the Rogue to steal the Merchant��s stuff. We��ve all gone through it at one point or another, myself included. Shamshir couldn��t keep their hands off my stuff for more than five minutes.��

    This didn��t lift my mood in the slightest. I survived having my limbs chopped off by Belgoroth, but getting <em>pickpocketed</em>? Me? <strong><em>Me</em></strong>? I couldn��t stand it. Nobody stole from Robin Waybright and escaped unscathed to boast about it!

    The Rogue would pay for this indignity <em>and </em>for ruining my date today.

    I considered my options on how to undo this terrible injustice and fulfill my oath of vengeance when an idea came to mind.

    ��Would you like to make a deal with me, Eris?�� I asked my girlfriend.

    ��Are you going to propose?�� She teased me back. ��For our marriage contract, I am considering adding a use where I own two-thirds of everything.��

    ��Two-thirds?�� I scoffed. ��Not half?��

    ��I know what I��m worth,�� Eris replied with an impish look. ��Is that a dealbreaker for you?��

    ��Not if I get to choose our vacation destinations.�� I quickly followed with a decisive proposal. ��Fire Inds in the Watermoon and Archfrost in the Firemoon.��

    ��You want to go to the mountains during summer and to the beach in winter?��

    ��I don��t like it when it��s too hot.��

    Eris stroked her chin. ��You drive a hard bargain, Robin. I will have to think about a counteroffer.��

    ��This onees with a limited timeframe,�� I replied jokingly. ��Think fast.��

    ��Creating scarcity to tip my hand?�� She winked at me. ��How ruthless.��

    We had deviated from my original n, but our light banter improved my mood quite a bit. The sky suddenly began to clear as if on cue, the sun shining brightly on Goldport��s Lionsquare. I could finally see the statues that gave the area its name now that the downpour no longer obscured them.

    It didn��t take long for new customers to visit our shop, though one couple in particr caught my gaze�� and that of many others.

    The man of the two made it very difficult to ignore them. I had never seen someone with a shier yet dashing fashion sense. A purple cloak billowed from his shoulders while a wine-colored vest tightly clung to his muscled torso; the open neckline conveniently gave outsiders a view of his chiseled chest. I noticed that he��d rolled up his sleeves as if to signify he was ready to get down and fight on a moment��s notice. His sharp mustard trousers andvender loafers werepletely untouched by the rain. His wide-brimmed hat was tilted just enough to give him an enigmatic look that would catch suckers like honey, and his short hair showed <em>just </em>the right mix of wild and groomed.

    In short, everything about this man screamed<em> ��look at me!�� </em>Few could pull that style off without seeming to try too hard, but his sharp green eyes and muscr physique made it work too. He just <em>oozed </em>charisma.

    Hispanion, by contrast, looked a lot more subdued. She was quite the beauty, with long azure hair��the kind one could only encounter in regions graced by the Seacup��tied up by a golden diadem and teal eyes that reminded me of the sea. A sleeved, bare-shouldered gossamer gown espoused her slender frame. Her golden bracelets and the elegant runestone-adorned belt radiated vast amounts of essence. She was a powerful witchcrafter, and if I recognized the silver me-shaped brooch in her hair, one affiliated with the Everbright Empire��s Imperial Academy.

    Most importantly, they both felt incredibly�� <em>familiar</em>.

    Knowing what would happen next, I waited for them to finish browsing through nearby stalls��the man appeared especially fascinated by a set of Fire Ind masks on sale��until they finally reached ours.

    ��Howdy, young merchant!�� the man said with a musical Everbrightian ent. He was hardly a few years older than me, but I let it slide. I could tell he had rehearsed these lines in anticipation. He checked my stall, his eyes lingering on the ivory nes, the gemstone earrings, and the fur coats on disy. ��What splendid wares you have here!��

    ��Thank you,�� I replied with a hypocritical smile. ��They alle straight for the northernnds beyond Erebia��s mountains.��

    ��Marvelous,�� the man said before stroking his chin. ��I am looking to offer this fairdy a jewel that would rival even her legendary beauty, if you can find any.��

    Both the man��s femalepanion and Eris covered their mouths to hide theirughter. I knew they expected me to be the butt of a joke.

    Unfortunately for them, no one pulled a fast one on Robin Waybright. I briefly checked that no one was looking our way before proceeding.

    ��May I suggest this splendid sapphire ring?�� I suggested as I presented the man with a splendid, ornate piece of jewelry that Marika had crafted herself. ��It will perfectly match her eyes.��

    The man tried to touch my hand while grabbing the ring, but I subtly avoided his fingers and simply dropped the item in the palm of his hand. The stranger blinked in surprise, then quickly corrected his expression.

    ��Marvelous.�� The man studied the ring, then grabbed a purse off his belt and tossed it to me. ��Would this be enough?"

    ��Of course,�� I replied without checking. I already knew the count. ��I will exchange that ring for this whole purse��s content.��

    ��Thank you,�� the man said, only for his hand to close on empty air.

    Now it was my turn to chuckle. The man��s purse was empty, its coins having teleported back where they belonged: into my own war chest.

    ��Did you truly think that you could pay me back with the very money you stole from me?�� I asked him with a wide grin before showcasing the ring, which had reappeared within my palm. How predictable. ��I fear you��ve been had.��

    ��s, I should have remembered that proverb.�� The Rogue took his defeat with grace and tipped his hat to me. ��Fool him once, shame on him; fool him twice, wolves on you.��

    ��A good saying, but not the most appropriate one,�� I replied.

    The man raised his eyebrow. ��And what would it be?��

    I met his gaze. ��You don��t mess with Robin Waybright.��

    The Rogue��spanion couldn��t contain her chuckle. ��Your boyfriend is very amusing, Eris,�� she said in a poised, Everbrightian dialect very simr to Therese��s own ent. ��You make a lovely couple.��

    ��He does manage to keep me entertained,�� Eris replied with a light tone. She smiled at the Rogue next. ��Beware, Rubenzo. Robin still hasn��t forgiven you for the pickpocketing prank.��

    ��I shall try to steal his heart next then,�� the man replied. It sounded like a joke, but the way he looked at me made me wonder��

    Wait.

    ��Rubenzo?�� I asked, a scowl forming on my face. ��That��s the name of my publish�C��

    I put two and two together just in time for Eris tough at me. She must have waited a long time for this very moment.

    ��You <em>knew</em>!�� I used her. ��You hyena, you knew!��

    ��I keep everybody��s secrets, Robin,�� Eris teased me back. ��Let me introduce you to Rubenzo Romero, owner of <em>Romero-Renza Press</em> and the <em>Everbright��s Light </em>newspaper; and Lady Rosaline of House Amoreira, esteemed schr and astronomy professor at Sra��s Imperial Academy. I suspect we have her to thank for the change in weather.��

    The woman blushed shyly. ��Please, Eris�� you��re embarrassing me.��

    ��As for myself, I have been called many names,�� the Rogue replied, a hand on his chest and the other raised to the sky. He reminded me of those opera divas in Ermeline. ��Rubenzo the ywright, Rubenzo the Publisher, Rubenzo the Wise, Rubenzo the Good, and Rubenzo the Handsome�C��

    ��Rubenzo the <em>Modest</em>?�� I asked with a scoff.

    ��Everyone should indulge their vanity now and then,�� Rubenzo replied with unshakable moxie. ��Otherwise, they would be t and forgettable.��

    I had the nagging feeling that this man would either be my best friend or an imcable source of frustration. Maybe both.

    I knew Rubenzo Romero by name and reputation long before I approached hispany to publish Colmar��s journal. The man ran the Everbright Empire��s most popr newspaper, the <em>Everbright��s Light, </em>which had steadily be synonymous with quality investigation into political and financial scandals. Its scriveners helped expose many corrupt nobles and criminal syndicates over the years, enough that their efforts partly inspired my own attempt to take down Sforza��s activities in the Rivend Federation.

    Rubenzo was also a pretty popr satirical ywright back in his homnd, though I cared more about the ideals of his papers and their reach. Very few would dare to publish Colmar��s journal and risk infuriating the Arcane Abbey or the Knots�� associates. I��d hoped hispany would agree to take up the fight, which they did. I was supposed to meet Rubenzo in person in the Everbright Empire and hammer out the deal before Daltia��s activities forced us to change our itinerary.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any urrences elsewhere.

    I had no idea had be the Rogue, let alone that he would be like�� <em>this</em>.

    ��In any case, we were about to close shop for lunch,�� Eris said. ��How about we move to a quieter ce together?��

    ��Are you trying to set up a foursome, Eris?�� Rubenzo asked, his brazen question causing Lady Rosaline to blush in embarrassment. ��If so, then I will <em>dly </em>y along.��

    ��Foursome?�� I raised an eyebrow. ��Strange, my informants told me you were married to an actress and opera singer called Dolcine.��

    ��Oh? Have you done your research, Robin?�� Rubenzo gave me a mischievous smile. ��Clearly, not well enough, or your informants would have told you that my <em>divine </em>and I share <em>everything </em>and <em>everyone</em>.��

    ��I was more interested in your ster professional reputation than your private life,�� I replied. I did hear that scious rumors followed Rubenzo Romero wherever he went, but I med those on the many corrupt nobles his newspaper helped expose. ��But good to know.��

    ��We, uh���� Lady Rosaline cleared her throat. ��We are friends and no more. I insist on that.��

    ��The Goddess knows my <em>divine </em>and I tried to be more,�� Rubenzo replied with a sigh. ��The most beautiful flowers are those forever out of reach.��

    ��I can already tell how Luciette would respond,�� Eris said. ��<em>��We are not out of reach, just out of yours.��</em>��

    Rubenzo let out a heartyugh. ��She told me those <em>exact </em>words!��

    ��Who is this Luciette?�� I asked, suddenly curious. I smelled an interesting story.

    ��My twin sister,�� Rosaline replied, her fingers fidgeting anxiously. ��She��s, ugh, how to say this�� it would be best that we discuss it somewhere private.��

    Rubenzo then offered to help us take our goods back to the Mersie-owned warehouse where we stocked them so we could go have lunch quicker. I epted, though I noted to myself to run an item inventory afterwards in case he tried to pilfer anything.

    Afterward, my soon-to-be publisher invited us to the <em>Bard��s Singing Home </em>Inn near Lionsquare, which hosted a yhouse in its basement. We stepped downstairs to an underground, popr theater with a gallery for viewing customers and arge, curtained stage for performers. Rubenzo paid extra to give us a table in an elevated position, which afforded us both a splendid view of the ce and most importantly, <em>privacy</em>.

    ��Why did you avoid touching me back at the stall, Robin?�� Rubenzo asked me after we took our seats. ��Did you perchance learn of my power? Or were you simply suspicious?��

    ��Both,�� I replied. ��Our group established anti-Shadow of Envy safety protocols between us. No touching strangers directly, passwords, those sorts of precautions.��

    ��Very wise,�� Rubenzomented. ��I hope this taught you a lesson in paranoia. Imagine if it had been the Shadow or a hired killer who gently brushed your hand instead of a handsome, friendly fellow such as myself.��

    ��I won��t thank you for pickpocketing me.�� I still held a small grudge over it. ��I certainly won��t forget it.��

    ��I shall do my best to buy back your forgiveness,�� Rubenzo replied coyly. ��What of the coins and the ring? How did you know it would work?��

    ��Simple. I figured that stealing does not create ownership. Since you tried to pay with money that did not belong to you, my power canceled the deal and automatically returned all the goods to their proper owner, namely <em>me</em>.��

    ��What a fascinating piece of insight.�� Rubenzo stroked his chin. ��I did not know my power possessed such a limitation, but I am thankful for it.��

    ��How so?�� I asked with an eyebrow raised. This sounded like a veryrge weakness in the Rogue��s power, and something we could exploit against the Shadow.

    ��If I believe what you say, then if I try to sell you what I��ve stolen it will return to its original owner,�� Rubenzo said. ��Thankful as I am for my ss, I have encountered an issue I can hardly ignore. Namely, I cannot get rid of what I steal. I can lose physical objects easily enough, but knowledge, skills, memories���� A deep scowl spread across his face. ��They stick with me whether I want them or not.��

    ��I see what you mean.�� I recalled an unpleasant event when I tried to buy a criminal��s memory of their crimes. The mental backsh of absorbing part of someone��s identity nearly gave me a mental breakdown, to the point we started recording confessions in objects rather than inside people. ��You put your hands in the filth and it sticks to you.��

    ��Very much so,�� Rubenzo replied with a subdued expression I wouldn��t have expected from such a bombastic man. ��I used to steal the evil of my targets or collect information from their minds early in my career, until they began to ovee me. I would have likely gone mad without my <em>divine</em>��s emotional support, and I am still haunted by those ill-gotten curses.��

    I was impressed by his moral fortitude. I hardlysted a minute with a murderer��s memories before I had to seal it away elsewhere. Rubenzo was a stronger person than his behavior suggested.

    ��Just draft a list of what you wish to get yourself rid of and I will lighten your burden,�� I promised him.

    ��Marvelous.�� Rubenzo snapped his fingers and put a group order for everyone to the nearest waiter. ��How about we show our marks once the spectacle begins? Everyone��s eyes will focus on the scene then.��

    ��Let me guess yours, Lady Rosaline,�� I said. ��Since Eris said we owed you for the sunshine, I��d wager you��re the Shaman.��

    Rosaline nodded slowly. I immediately identified her as the demure, soft-spoken type of person more at home with listening than taking the spotlight. ��You are quite correct. I am the Shaman, and I canmand the weather-essence patterns over an area.��

    I smiled upon remembering Selestine. ��Do you need the Artifacts�� agreement to do so?��

    ��Oh, no.�� Rosaline chuckled lightly. ��Thank the Goddess I do not. I wouldn��t be able to do anything otherwise.��

    Very interesting. I��d seen Selestine achieve simr miracles by petitioning and haggling with the Artifacts. It made sense that she could mimic the feats of other sses if her patrons allowed her to; after all, they created them in the first ce.

    ��Her sister is the Necromancer,�� Eris added. ��They make quite the formidable pair.��

    ��And a lovely one,�� Rubenzo said. ��How about you introduce us to Luciette before the waiter returns?��

    ��Oh, of course.�� Rosaline took a quick look around us. It suddenly urred to me that her seat was positioned in a corner of the gallery, with Rubenzo��s taller body obscuring her from the other guests�� sight. ��Not for long.��

    She transformed before our eyes.

    The change was both subtle and awe-inspiring. Her teal eyes gained a tone closer to lc, while her hair darkened until it became cker than a crow��s feathers. The silver me brooch in her hair radiated essence and turned golden in response.

    However, it was her change in demeanor that I found most striking. Her slumping shoulders straightened, and she boldly looked into my eyes rather than focusing on my nose like she did beforehand. She winked at me with newfound confidence.

    ��Surprised much, Mr. Waybright?�� the woman said with a bold tone and a very different voice than Rosaline. ��My name is Luciette Amoreira, imperial schr at Sra��s Imperial Academy of Magic. A pleasure to meet you.��

    ��Consouled twins,�� I whispered, utterly astonished.

    I��d heard of these vanishingly rare cases. The essence of siblings often fused in the womb in ces heavily affected by witchcrafting experiments. This resulted in two souls sharing a single body that could undergo morphic changes depending on which of the minds controlled it at a given moment.

    ��Exactly,�� Luciette said with a flirty smirk. ��I do love educated, handsome men�� perhaps you and I could have a private drink together another time?��

    ��Back off, Luciette,�� Eris said, politely but firmly; which quite pleased me. ��I saw him first.��

    ��How would that even work with your sister?�� I asked her, amused.

    ��With either heavy logistics or a package deal,�� Luciette replied with an impish look. ��You��d be surprised by what Rosaline can go along with.��

    ��I appreciate the proposal, but I��m strictly monogamous,�� I replied before searching my travel bag and bringing out Colmar��s journal. ��I have this book to thank for teaching me about consouled twins.��

    Luciette all but snatched it from my fingers, though she didn��t open it. She instead put a hand on the cover and meditated on it, her eyes narrowing slightly.

    ��What an incredible story,�� Luciette said with profound respect after returning the book to me. ��This Colmar was truly a genius ahead of his time. A shame he died his second and final death before I could meet him in person. I would have loved to pick his mind.��

    ��How did you know that he had died twice?�� I asked with a frown. ��You couldn��t have learned this information even if you��ve somehow read the book at this very moment.��

    ��You bore witness to the Necromancer��s power,�� Luciette exined. ��I can learn the history of anything or anyone that I touch. I draw the essence echoes slumbering within them. It��s like reading a book��s worth of text in a second��s time.��

    ��An echo, you say?�� This reminded me of something else. ��We encountered a simr phenomenon at the Deadgate in Archfrost. The dead left life-like echoes of their essence behind it.��

    ��Interesting. My ability works along the same lines, enough that I canpel ghostly apparitions to answer my questions.�� Luciette chuckled to herself. ��I make the dead speak, in a way.��

    The waiter returned with our drinks, at which point Luciette had transformed back into Rosaline. The change happened so swiftly that no one noticed it, myself included.

    ��Is this the book you wished me to publish?�� Rubenzo asked before taking the journal. Unlike his fellow Hero, he browsed through its pages. ��I shall have a copy prepared and then sent back to Sra for immediate mass distribution.��

    ��You understand that you will take many risks publishing this document?�� I asked. Colmar��s revtions would anger many, <em>many </em>powerful individuals. ��I wouldn��t have approached you if I expected you to censor or ignore this book, but I don��t want to sugarcoat the danger you��ll expose yourself to.��

    ��Please, Robin, do not tempt me so intimately.�� My warning only filled Rubenzo with enthusiasm rather than dread. ��Do you believe in <em>people</em>?��

    ��Yes,�� I replied without hesitation. I always did, and our fight with Belgoroth only solidified my conviction. ��When people work together, they can do anything. Even ovee demons.��

    ��Then we are kindred spirits, you and I,�� Rubenzo praised me, his hand snapping the journal shut. ��Yes, this document��s revtions will infuriate the Arcane Abbey and many power yers. I am certain that the Fatebinder and many of this world��s rulers have their own good reasons to keep these secrets for themselves, but the fact remains that they think they know better than those they consider lesser. I do not want to live in a world where the powerful decide my destiny without my knowledge or consent, and neither should anybody else.��

    His words brimmed with genuine, unshakable conviction, which I recognized as a reflection of my own. This man was on a mission long before he gained his mark and powers.

    ��A man poured his life and soul into this document in the belief that people could indeed live with the truth and learn from it,�� Rubenzo said. ��I intend to honor his wish,e what may. Not all will believe in what this Colmar had to say, and fewer will ept it�� but some will, and one day, I am convinced that this will make a difference for the better.��

    ��A house founded on lies is not built tost,�� I said.

    ��Good words, Robin, I��ll borrow them someday.�� Rubenzo rxed his shoulders. ��Besides, I��m used to ying with fire. You can��t fathom the number of nobles and merchant-princes who want the head of Rubenzo the Bold served to them on a silver tter.��

    Of course the Rogue would be someone whose entire job revolved around digging and exposing the powerful��s dirty secrets. The irony wasn��t lost on me.

    Nheless, I found myself gaining greater respect for this man. Rubenzo believed in something greater than himself and the limitless potential of mankind, just as I did. He simply did it in another way: he taught the powerful to be humble, while I inspired the weak to stand proudly.

    The curtain proceeded to unfold, causing the guests to all look at the stage. I used the distraction to briefly remove my glove and reveal my mark to our guests. Rubenzo quickly pulled up his sleeve until it reached his left arm, revealing a golden mark representing an open, grasping hand with the Erebian numeral for twelve.

    As for Rosaline, her cheeks turned scarlet as she pulled down her neckline just long enough to give me a view of her breasts. The left one bore a silver mark representing a spiral bearing the Erebian numeral for four, the Shaman��s symbol; while the right showed the faint, hardly visible outline of a skull adorned with the number three. I suspected that thetter regained prominence when Luciette assumed control.

    We quickly covered our marks by the time a merry troupe of actors stepped on the stage. At the forefront was an elegant, eye-catching blonde woman with daring emerald eyes, a scarlet dress, and a rose in her mouth. She quickly opened the spectacle with a daring dance that left the audience pping and whistling.

    ��Isn��t that your wife dancing on the stage?�� Eris asked while pointing at the blonde actress.

    ��Please, Eris, my <em>divine </em>would never show herself in such an establishment,�� Rubenzo replied before blowing the blonde dancer a kiss, which she reciprocated. ��Not under her true name at least.��

    I studied the stage and noticed that many of the actors appeared to recognize Rubenzo when they looked our way. He didn��te to Goldport unapanied.

    ��How many people did you bring with you?�� I inquired.

    ��My whole troupe, of course.�� Rubenzo slouched in his chair. ��How did you think I could get close enough to pickpocket you, Robin? You have to thank my makeup artist and wardrobe supervisor for it.��

    I was wondering about that too. I should have seen this peacocking from a league away, yet he managed to sneak up on me and Mersie easily enough. ��You didn��t use your power?��

    ��I could change my face with it, but magic is best reserved to give a finishing touch to one��s artisticposition,�� Rubenzo replied. ��That way, I won��t grow dependent on it.��

    ��Smart,�� I said before joining my fingers. ��Do you n on joining us, Rubenzo? You must have ns if you brought so many assistants with you.��

    ��How could I call myself the Rogue if I ran at the sight of my own Shadow?�� Rubenzo replied with a chuckle. He sounded quite proud of his own wordy. ��Eris informed me that you intended to infiltrate the Shinkoku Empire.��

    ��We have good reason to think the Devil of Greed gathers her coins there,�� I confirmed, ��And that the Shadow follows the trail.��

    ��I��ve discussed the subject with Rubenzo, and we agreed that it would be too risky if we all entered the country together in one group,�� Eris said. ��We would be too easy to track.��

    ��While your group infiltrates the country from the sky, we shall do so from the sea,�� Rubenzo exined. ��My troupe has already secured an invitation to y in the Shinoku��s capital, under false identities of course.��

    ��Can they handle themselves in a fight?�� Eris asked with a frown. ��We��ll encounter many demons, Ruby, and not the funny folktale kind.��

    ��They are all well-trained, my dear, worry not.�� Rubenzo sipped his wine. ��I��d hoped to meet my Vassal Heroes and travel with them though. Are they with you?��

    ��They��ve been cleaning Goldport of any Knot cultist they could find with the Hunter��s assistance,�� I replied. As for Beni, Soraseo, and Marika, they��d spent most of their time working on our new golem project. ��We were waiting for you to proceed with the Salvadoreen Manor��s purification.��

    ��My sister and I shall do our utmost best to help,�� Rosaline promised before clearing her throat. ��However, we, ugh�� we won��t be able toe with you to the Shinkoku Empire afterward. We are due to meet with Professor Chandraj in order to secure the Pit of Apocris in Irem.��

    ��That��s fine for us,�� I replied, having expected as much. Having a team of Heroes in Irem reassured me in case we had misjudged Daltia��s intentions. ��Would you be all avable to run the operation this evening?��

    Rosaline and Rubenzo both confirmed their participation with an enthusiastic nod, which we celebrated with a toast.

    We would soon put Mersie��s past to rest and move on.

 Chapter Fifty-Four: The Exorcism

    Chapter Fifty-Four: The Exorcism

    There was something subtly unnerving about the Salvadoreen Manor.

    It looked almost painfully normal from afar, at least by the standards of a noble house. It wasrge and had at least four floors from what I could tell, with great limestone walls and a golden roof. An outer wall overseen by winged lion statues surrounded the property, including its garden and hedge maze. A pair of steel gates, sealed by no less than eight witchcrafter-powered locks, prevented ess to the property. In short, it was clean, undisturbed, and untouched by time.

    Which couldn��t be the case. This manor hadn��t been visited in over a decade and a half. Part of it should have crumbled away from ack of maintenance by now; the hedge maze should have been overgrown; and dirt should have covered its walls and roof. The ce looked too well-maintained.

    Of course, there was also the not-so-small matter of the stench of death, rot, and wicked essence permeating from the property. Witchcrafter seals on the walls kept those dark influences safely contained within the Salvadoreen Manor, but I could still sense them with my essence sight.

    The Blight here wasn��t as powerful as the one that gued Snowdrift. The Salvadoreen Manor curse had been contained for years, and Belgoroth��s defeat put an end to his Berserk me. Still, I wouldn��t be lying if I said that the sight of this haunted house gleaming under the pale moonlight didn��t fill me with disquiet.

    I wasn��t the only one to feel uneasy either. Mersie stared at the entrance, her hands holding her arms. Chronius observed the manor with a hard gaze filled with remorse. The witchcrafters among us checked our supply of pure runestones to ensure that they would be sufficient to drain this swamp of corruption.

    Nheless, I had little doubt that we would prevail. We had gathered half of the twenty-two Heroes, half of them withbat sses and the other having great witchcrafting experience. This manor was no City of Wrath.

    Besides helping Mersie move on with her past and cleaning up loose ends, I mostly saw this mission as a chance to get all of us used to working as a cohesive unit. I suspected we would confront much greater danger in the Shinkoku Empire, and experience could save lives.

    Both Rubenzo and I would cooperate with our Vassal sses, while Soraseo and Mirokald would escort Luciette. Marika and I were a bit ambivalent about having Beni join a field mission, even with his Alchemist power and early exorcist talent, but he insisted on participating.His golem protector was newly functional, and he wanted to test it in the field.

    ��Those statues will attack us the moment we destroy the seal, won��t they?�� Rubenzo guessed at my side, his finger pointing at the winged lions overseeing the outer wall. The Rogue came equipped with a rapier and a one-handed crossbow. I guessed he favored a fighting style simr to mine.

    ��I��m sure the hedge maze will try to entrap us too,�� I mused. ��It will twist and turn until it encircles us.��

    ��Naturally. I assume it would be ill-advised to set it on fire?��

    ��Feel free to cut it short.�� I nced at Mersie, whom I worried for the most. ��You don��t mind if we do some gardening, do you? Pick some flowers?��

    My joke drew a small chuckle from her, alleviating the tension in the air as I��d hoped. ��Help yourselves,�� she said. ��The hedges haven''t been trimmed in years.��

    ��We��ll be sure to do our gardening duties,�� Rubenzo said before bravely putting his arms around both Mersie��s and Chronius�� shoulders, pushing them closer than either of them would like. ��I must say, I am <em>very </em>happy to have two such beautiful and charming people as my allied sses.��

    His familiarity and boldness took both of his fellow Heroes aback, much to my amusement.

    ��The term is <em>Vassal </em>ss, I believe,�� Mersie pointed out.

    ��Do you take me for the Knight, Mdy? Vassals imply you��re my subordinates, and I don��t do hierarchies.�� Rubenzo smirked ear to ear. ��We��re <em>friends</em>. Maybe we��ll be <em>more </emter, who knows?��

    ��Not interested,�� Chronius said immediately, albeit with some awkwardness.

    ��You will not steal my heart,�� Mersie replied with a mix of disdain and amusement. ��And isn��t that old failure of an Archer too crusty for you?��

    ��Everyone deserves to know my love,�� Rubenzo replied without shame. ��Even the old and the ugly.��

    I pitied those poor Rogue vassals. Nheless, his infectious bravado appeared to distract Mersie from dwelling too much on her old home. I suspected that Rubenzo reminded her of myself, too.

    The clicking of metal and turning gears caused me to turn at its source. An armored knight nearly twice my size walked up to me, its heavy footfalls shaking the pavement with bone-jarring force. Its massive chest would put an ox to shame and its limbs were thicker than the trunks of small trees. I was very proud of the work Marika and I did on the ckened te armor. It covered every inch of the body, with a raven-shaped great helm hiding the absence of a face, and a silver copy of the Alchemist��s mark gleamed on its visor.

    Beni sat on its shoulders over a cloak of ck feathers, his hands clutching the golem��s helmet. His mother followed closely after the duo while d in armor and wielding her warhammer.

    ��How are you holding up there, Beni?�� I asked him.

    Beni responded with a thumbs up.

    ��I keep worrying he will fall off,�� Marika said. ��I should have thought of adding a backpack seat.��

    ��Well, we can enhance it over time,�� I replied before reassuring Marika. ��If the worstes to pass, Beni can always retreat inside its chest cavity. Everything will be fine.��

    We had designed the golem so that its back could open and allow Beni to crawl inside in case of emergency. It would prevent him from using his touch-based power on anything besides the golem and force him to hide within it, but that was the best design we coulde up with so far.

    ��I hope so.�� Marika let out a heavy sigh before checking the golem��s equipment onest time. A greatsword would have been an appropriate weapon for it, but Beni remained traumatized from the time his father nearly murdered him with Belgoroth��s ymore. In the end, we settled on a big spiked mace and a shield. ��So far so good.��

    She knew she couldn��t keep her son safe forever. This test would let us see if Beni��s protector could take over in her absence.

    Our goal behind the golem��s design was to have it serve as a smokescreen for Beni. Most Knots likely received a report about Colmar��s appearance and nature, so having a strange masked knight bearing the Alchemist��s mark would likely fool them into believing he had survived our battle with Belgoroth and received enhancements. The more impressive our golem��s appearance, the more people would focus on it rather than Beni.

    ��Have you settled on a name yet?�� I asked Beni, who answered with a series of hand signs which I quickly tranted. ��<em>Ravengarde</em>? I like it.��

    ��It��s appropriate,�� Marika replied with a fond smile, right as Luciette and the others joined us. ��Are we ready to proceed?��

    ��We are,�� Luciette confirmed. Her robes shimmered with essence and she carried a few paper sheets in her hands. ��I have finished mapping out the property and relevant points of interest.��

    ��Simply by touching the walls around it?�� I asked with a whistle. Quite impressive.

    ��Them and our witnesses,�� Luciette replied. Mersie and Chronius both managed to scowl in perfect synchronization. ��I can interrogate more than mere objects.��

    ��Remind me never to make an enemy of you, Luciette,�� Eris said. I noticed that my girlfriend was very careful to stay out of the Necromancer��s reach.

    I couldn��t me her. Luciette��s power was <em>terrifyingly </em>effective at quickly gathering information. The likes of Florence and Sebastian wouldn��t have been able to hide for long had she been around.

    ��You wouldn��t need to worry if you let me read you, my dear Eris,�� Luciette replied with a sly smirk before distributing the paper sheets to each team. I quickly read mine to see a detailedyout of the Salvadoreen��s property, with a few crosses marking points spread across the property. While most were located inside the building itself, a few were spread around the garden. ��All Blights require linchpins for their curse to take hold over an area. In this case, the spots where the individual murders took ce.��

    ��I can think of a <em>few</em>,�� Mersie said while ring at Chronius, who remained stone-cold silent.

    Luciette raised an eyebrow and then brushed the matter off. ��Dropping a mass of purified runestones would do the job well enough, but I would suggest a more subtle surgical operation. ce the runestones at the spots I��ve marked and we��ll lift the curse without wasting too many resources.��

    ��Then we will split into three groups,�� I said before outlining the n one more time. It couldn��t hurt. ��The ground floor will be the most dangerous, since that��s where most of the corrupted essence is gathered. The upper floors will be difficult to navigate, while the gardens�� points are spread out.��

    ��I��ll let thedy of the house make the call for our team,�� Rubenzo dered.

    ��We��ll take care of the entrance,�� Mersie said, her eyes venomously ring at Chronius. ��Unless <em>he </em>does not want to face his crimes?��

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Chronius scowled. ��I gave my word.��

    ��The Monk, the Necromancer, and I can take on the upper floors,�� Mirokald said. ��I can navigate hidden passages easily enough with my power.��

    ��Then Marika, Beni, and I will take care of the gardens,�� I decided. ��Eris will serve as the go-between to ensure propermunications. Does anybody have any more questions?��

    I received none, and we thus started the operation under the pale moonlight.

    I came armed with a new wind-infused rapier and drew it the moment Luciette removed the gate locks keeping the Blight contained. The doors opened wide, and I sensed a cold, invisible pressure fall upon my shoulders the moment we crossed the threshold.

    The walls screamed in rm.

    I would have loved to say I was speaking figuratively, but s, I had no other word for that horror. Ghoulish human faces formed on the manor��s facade and let out ghastly wails into the night. A malevolent vibration spread across the Blight. I could almost <em>taste </em>its malice and eagerness to im more victims.

    Rubenzo��s guess proved correct. The statues immediately attacked us.

    The winged lions took flight as we walked into the garden, their stone bodies moving with surprising agility as they jumped off their pedestals in utter silence. A few pounced at us, while others circled the sky above.

    They weren��t alone either. The manor��s door opened wide, unleashing a crimson mist that smelled of death and rancid blood. A small horde of walking corpses rushed out to greet us, misshapen mannequins of skinless flesh and empty eye sockets charging forward in bloodstained noble clothes, wielding swords, chandeliers, and firestokes.

    Though I doubted anyone could identify them by face, Mersie recognized their clothes well enough to freeze in ce, her eyes widening in shock and horror.

    ��Mersie!�� I shouted her name in an attempt to shake her out of her trance. Damn it, I feared something like this would happen. ��Fior!"

    Chronius didn��t hesitate. He opened hostilities by coldly nailing one of the undead with a knife to the face with such strength that it fell backwards onto the cold earth.

    I couldn��t tell whether it was that sight or hearing her true name that snapped Mersie out of her paralysis, but rage swiftly overtook her fear. She charged with a snarl of rage and daggers in hand, making contact with the undead at the time as Soraseo. Her Assassin powers wouldn��t work on soulless pieces of animated meat, yet her steel carved a path all the same.

    The garden descended into what I could at best describe as controlled chaos.

    Most of us had already fought together before, so our team immediately adopted battle formations. Marika and I covered our group��s left nk, her warhammer smashing a winged lion��s stone face with immense force while my rapier skewered an undead swordsman in a single stroke. Sharp wind surged from my de and cut through flesh and bones like a knife through butter.

    I expected Beni to scream or cower, but the boy��s bravery kept surprising me. Though the sight of these monsters caused his skin to turn pallid, he simply pointed a finger at the nearest one. Ravengarde immediately raised its mace and shattered an undead corpse��s skull in a single stroke. Unlike a full golem that could act on its own, our iplete Contractual Intelligence required directions for now, which his charge was happy to provide.

    I didn��t have to worry too much. My allies did a fine job taking care of themselves.

    As usual, Soraseo cut down through anything that dared to stand in her way with casual ease, while Mirokald had an easy time skewering the undeads�� weak points with his spear. I guessed his power let him locate them easily enough.

    Luciette also gave me a glimpse of what a truly mighty witchcrafter could do. Homing icicles the size of my arms surged from her snapping fingers to impale corpses. At other times she simply materialized a block of ice around one of the winged lions in mid-flight, causing it to fall down to earth and shatter to pieces in an instant. Eris�� fireballs appeared crude whenpared to her fellow mage��s refined sorcery.

    However, it was the Rogue��s team that handled themselves the best.

    In spite of their shing personalities, the three��s teamwork was nothing short of spectacr. Mersie cut through undead soldiers after one another, slicing their heads off while Chronius covered her with projectiles. Rubenzo moved with the lethal grace of a Dreadwolf on the hunt. He was a smiling blur, a shadow that shifted between targets almost too fast for my eyes to follow.

    <em>How many skills did he steal? </em>I wondered. It had taken me many bargains to be a passablebattant, but Rubenzo could likely take on <em>Soraseo </em>and match her in battle.<em> I��m a bit jealous. </em>

    I intellectually knew that the Rogue and its Vassals were fragments of a single ss, but seeing them work together made me realize that they remained strongly connected. They intuitively covered each others�� weaknesses, with Rubenzo being the glue that bound them together, switching back and forth between closebat and suppressive fire. One second he shot down a flying lion diving onto Mersie with a runestone-powered crossbow bolt that shredded its stone wings like paper, and then sliced down a corpse attempting to engage Chronius in closebat.

    It hardly took us a few minutes to clear the path, with the stones and corpses breaking down and rotting into dust in the blink of an eye once destroyed. Rubenzo��s and Soraseo��s group walked into the manor together. I hardly caught a glimpse of a floor of meat facing a stairway of bones through the red mist.

    I wished them luck.

    ��Our team has the easiest part,�� Marika noted once only our team remained outside. ��Was that intentional, Robin?��

    ��Yes,�� I confirmed. I hade to ept that our sses would never fully match the others in battle prowess, especially after Belgoroth trounced me and Colmar before I could move a muscle. We were better off ying support, whether material or moral. ��I would rather avoid putting Beni into the thick of things too soon as well.��

    Marika gave me a grateful nod, then examined the hedge maze ahead of us. Its thick thorns could hide many dangers. ��I��m not walking inside that trap.��

    ��We won��t need to,�� I said as I opened my bag and grabbed ss bottles filled with thick, greenish gas.

    ��Is that a mmable weapon?�� Marika asked with a frown. ��I thought we were excluding resorting to arson?��

    ��It��s better than fire.�� I tossed a bottle to Beni. ��Would you make your mother proud and throw the first one?��

    I had rarely seen Beni smile in the seasons since I first met him and Marika, but a big wide smirk spread across his face when he raised the bottle.

    The projectile shattered against a wall of thorns, unleashing an emerald cloud that swallowed the nts. I heard them screech as the poison covered them, wilting them, consuming them, and rotting them in the blink of an eye.

    ��Is that acid?�� Marika asked in disbelief.

    ��A weed killer,�� I replied as I tossed her a bottle. I thought she would enjoy participating in the show. ��Erika, Ben, and I cooked this strain up with some help from Colmar��s notes. It��s harmless for us and lethal to nts.��

    Colmar first designed the original form to exterminate the Nightseeds, but we adapted it to consume <em>any </em>kind of vegetation. Even a Blight��s cursed essence required a vessel to inhabit, however vulnerable it might be. It only took six bottles to reduce the lethal hedge maze to a wastnd of wilted grass and roots.

    Much to my delight, I managed to exterminate most of them with my own throws.

    ��We should definitelymercialize it,�� I decided after we explored the ruins to locate the Blight��s linchpins. ��We would need to make it less virulent so it doesn��t harm crops, but I see the potential.��

    ��I knew a few farmers who would have sold half their house for a solution to their weed problems,�� Marika mused while she checked on her son. ��Are you holding up, Beni?��

    Her son nodded happily, his Ravengarde protector and mount carrying him around withoutint. Good. I was happy to see him have fun destroying monsters and exorcizing a spooky mansion.

    It didn��t take long for us to locate the linchpins; we just had to look for meat pits in the ground with teeth and a terrible case of bad essence breath. Most of them shared the outline of humanoid forms, which I assumed belonged to the Salvadoreen massacre��s victims. Chastel��s crew had hunted down their fleeing victims across the property like dogs.

    I offered a small prayer to the victims, then filled the flesh holes with pure runestones. Beni and Marika took it from there by extracting the corrupted essence and sealing it away. The more they took, the more the area returned to normal: the meat holes closed, the omnipresent stench of blood weakened, and the oppressive pressure I felt on my shoulders faded away.

    The ce had subtly changed by the time we disabled all the linchpins outside the manor��s walls, with cracks showing up on its walls where faces used to be and dirt covering its roof. The wicked curse that kept it trapped in time for over a decade slowly gave way to the unrelenting march of time.

    Eris popped out of nowhere at my side, then swiftly checked the runestones we��d gathered. Their pristine matter had turned pitch ck from the evil that they umted. ��I didn��t know you were in the coal business, Handsome.��

    ��I wouldn��t use these for fuel,�� I replied with a chuckle. ��How are things going for the others inside?��

    ��Swimmingly. It��s refreshing to work with so many professionals. The Blight is already on its way out.�� Eris stomped the ground with her staff. ��I think <em>she </em>will require your presence though.��

    I nodded sharply, then asked Marika and Beni to stand watch outside while Eris and I walked into the manor''s main hall.

    The red mist had lifted, with the room shedding its cursed veil of pulsating flesh and ghostly suffering to reveal cracked porcin and dusty old silver. The others gathered there. Mersie and Chronius escorted Luciette to the center of the hall, watching on as she drained thest of the Blight into her runestones. Rubenzo, Mirokald, and Soraseo stood watch atop the stairs, likely to ensure no surviving monster would interrupt them.

    ��It is done,�� Luciette dered once shepleted her task. The air I breathed in was filled with old dust, but none of the limitless malice I��de to expect from a Blight. ��The rest will fade away on its own soon enough. Good job, I guess.��

    Mersie hardly seemed to feel the same. She stared at the remains of old ribbons and gands on the floor which the Blight��s curse saved from dposition across the decades, then focused on a wall that still bore the mark of a throwing knife. I only had to take a look at Chronius�� grim scowl of remorse to figure out what happened there.

    ��That��s where he died, isn��t it,�� I whispered under my breath. ��Your father?��

    Mersie closed her eyes for a moment, took in a deep breath, and gave me a small, weak nod.

    ��He can rest now,�� Iforted her. ��You did good, Fior.��

    ��I���� Mersie cleared her throat. ��I��d hoped for more, Robin. I feel unburdened, but�� not happy either.��

    ��That��s how it is,�� Chronius said with a heavy tone. ��Closure."

    I expected Mersie to snap at him, or insult him, or curse him for contributing to the Blight that befell her home. Such was the depths of her grief that she simply remained silent as she mulled over her past.

    Chronius crossed his arms and stared at the knife mark on the wall.

    ��I��m sorry,�� he said suddenly. ��If I could go back�C��

    ��I don��t forgive you, and I <em>never </em>will,�� Mersie replied immediately, albeit with none of the venom she usually spat in his direction. She was merely stating a cold fact. ��But you have fulfilled your obligations to me so far.��

    Chronius didn��t say another word. He knew that was the best response he would ever get from her.

    Luciette, who had listened to their conversation, finally spoke up again. ��I canpel shades to appear, Lady Salvadoreen,�� she proposed. ��There is enough psychic backsh haunting these walls for me to reconstruct echoes of the departed. If you wish to say goodbye or apologize, then it is within your power.��

    Mersie considered it for a few seconds before denying her. ��No,�� she said, first weakly and then more firmly. ��No, that will not be necessary.��

    ��Are you sure?�� I asked her, mostly out of concern.

    ��They have lingered in my dreams for many years, Robin,�� my old lover replied. ��I�� I think it��s time I let them go. Truly go.��

    ��I understand.�� I respected her choice. Exorcizing the house of her lost childhood served the same purpose that visiting the Deadgate offered to many of us. ��What will you do now then?��

    ��I don��t know,�� Mersie replied. ��I think I��ll help you deal with Daltia in the Shinkoku Empire. I owe you that after you indulged my selfish requests. Afterwards���� She shook her head,cking an answer. ��I can��t say. Part of me wants to rebuild my house better than before, but another part of me wants to live as Mersie. If that makes sense.��

    ��It does, at least to me.�� I winked at her. ��Give it time. Nobody expects you to rethink your whole life on the spot.��

    ��I think you would be the kind of person to know what you want, Robin,�� she replied with a smile that, for once, felt entirely genuine. ��Let us go now. I��m exhausted."

    And so we left Salvadoreen Manor a better ce than when we found it. This tied up thest of our loose ends in the Rivend Federation, at least as far as I was concerned.

    We boarded for the Shinkoku Empire tomorrow.

 Chapter Fifty-Five: Interlude: The Monk

    Chapter Fifty-Five: Interlude: The Monk<blockquote>

    <em>Year 687, Seukaia.</em>

    <em>The Crime of Hwajing</em></blockquote>

    The princess sent the man��s head rolling off his shoulders.

    Mizukiya��s de cut through flesh and bone with a song of sharpened air. She moved on to the next target without a moment��s hesitation, killing anothe monk before her previous target even hit the floor. Droplets of blood slipped past hercquered armor to stain the skin beneath. Her pulse pounded like a drum in her head, the smoking flowing into her nostrils, the thrill of battle rushing to her skull.

    She <em>lived </em>for this.

    The men in front of her seemed like dancing shadows fading each time she swung her sword. A giant stops her de in mid-air with hands d in fire, his grip strong enough to immobilize it. Mizukiya hardly stopped long enough to break his knee with a well-ced kick. The giant released the sword as he fell to his knees, and Mizukiya beheaded him in one swift stroke. Droplets of blood flew around her like cherry petals in the wind.

    That was why they called her the Blood Blossom.

    Around her, her men acquaint themselves well despite the pitched resistance. They cut down the monks one after another with janggeom swords or shot those who tried to flee with arquebuses; the Firehand Sect��s resistance crumbled all around her as mes consumed their monastery.��Preserve the relics,�� Mizukiya ordered once the battle in the courtyard subsided. Her teacher had demanded that she salvage those for posterity. ��Protect them from the mes.��

    ��The fire has already reached the western wing, Princess Mizukiya,�� her aide-de-camp replied. ��It may be toote to save anything.��

    Mizukiya clenched her jaw, then nearly slipped on somebody��s guts. She caught herself and looked down at the corpses of the dead lying in puddles of their own blood. The monastery��s courtyard was littered with flesh and body parts. A few belonged to her men, and most to the Firehand Sect monks who had died nearly to a man to defend their temple.

    The rush of battle had subsided enough for Mizukiya to assess the carnage around her without being blinded by the sh of steel. The courtyard��s walls and trees were paved with blood, and her soldiers finished off the wounded on the ground. Father had given the order to kill all captives to teach the Seukaian resistance a lesson, and they would follow it through.

    Mizukiya crushed the doubt in her heart. Father had given plenty of opportunities for the city to surrender, and they rejected each of them. A sack had been inevitable.

    This blood would be shed for a good cause.

    The clean-up was swift and efficient, though mes unfortunately consumed the Firehand Sect��s archives and precious sets of scrolls. Knowledge of the techniques that gave them their name might have been lost forever that day. Mizukiya thought it might be for the best. Such talents should belong to the state alone, not to a foreign order holed up on a hill.

    Her men did secure a few important relics otherwise. Gilded weapons, ancient paintings, and even an eerie, ancient adamantine mask crafted into the visage of an androgynous person with stitched lips and narrow slits for eyes. Thetter bothered Soraseo for a reason she couldn��t quite exin, but she would let her father��s treasurers handle it.

    Once she had confirmed the entire sect��s annihtion, Mizukiya walked past the monastery��s gate with half her soldiers and left the others to loot the ce. The fortress�� hill oversaw the entire Hwajing Valley. The city which bore its name burned under the fading stars in the shadow of the mountains, while wyvern riders flew across the sky. The Shinkoku Empire��s banners and those of their allied Moonlight Riders mercenaries fluttered atop imed watchtowers and fortresses, signaling the settlement��s fall; and by proxy that of all the Seukaian resistance in the west.

    Stragglers might flee past the mountains into the Stonnds to continue their doomed fight, but with norge base of their own, their efforts would be irrelevant.

    Father would be proud. His vision of a unified penins under Shinkokan rule had taken one more step towardspletion.

    A contingent awaited Princess Mizukiya down the monastery��s stairs, led by Lord Oboro. A middle-aged man with gray hair, a ponytail, and a well-trimmed beard, he looked quite fierce despite his old age, his armor was stained with less blood than his student and his sword was firmly sheathed. His blue eyes stared at the princess with clear frustration.

    Mizukiya hid her worry and bowed in respect. ��The monastery is ours, my teacher.��

    ��You were too hasty, Princess,�� Lord Oboroined immediately. Of all the emperor��s generals, he alone had the clout to address a member of the imperial family without following the proper protocol. ��I asked that you wait until we could assess the location of all of the Sect��s Elders. Master So Xian in particr remains unounted for ording to our spies.��

    ��We will find his corpse among the others,�� Mizukiya replied. ��If not, what can he do? The monastery is taken and his students are decimated. He cannot do anything.��

    Lord Oboro squinted at his student. ��Have you ever heard of the <em>Journey of Gojotaro</em>?��

    Mizukiya let out a sigh. Herdy mother had insisted that she learn those stories by heart. ��Yes, I have.��

    ��Then clearly you haven��t paid attention,�� her teacherined. ��When Gojotaro was caught by the demon, the demon asked him his name and he answered ��<em>nobody</em>.�� So when Gojotaro blinded him in his sleep and his fellow monsters asked him who did it, all the demon could answer was ��<em>nobody</em>.�� Do not underestimate <em>anyone</em>."

    Mizukiya clenched her jaw, but epted her mentor��s reproach nheless. He had taught her everything she valued, and while she knew she had long surpassed him in the art of the de, she still envied his wisdom.

    ��No one can deny your talent, Princess, but you are <em>rash</em>,�� Lord Oboro said. ��The most powerful swordsman is not the one who can draw his de the quickest, but who knows when it is best to draw at all. Remember that.��

    ��I will, my teacher,�� Mizukiya replied respectfully. She did not wish to disappoint him, so she would endeavor to work on herself. ��I will dispatch soldiers to find So Xian.��

    ��You would be wise to.�� Lord Oboro looked up at the monastery and the mes consuming it with sorrow. ��Could you save anything?��

    Mizukiya clenched her jaw. ��I am afraid the archives went up in smoke, my teacher, though my men are trying to find whatever they can. We have secured a few items of value otherwise.��

    Her teacher let out a sigh. ��Your father will at least be happy that the Sect��s techniques won��t be passed on to our enemies, Princess,�� he said with a tone full of distaste. ��I, however, weep over this senseless destruction. The monks refined their essence mastery over centuries. I would have preferred to preserve their teachings.��

    Lord Oboro��s tone betrayed some resentment, though Mizukiya wisely didn��t confront him over it. She knew all too well that he had argued with her father over invading Seukaia��s west coast over ack of manpower and only proceeded with the siege out of duty rather than enthusiasm.

    Even this brilliant victory seemed to taste like ashes to him.

    ��Why do you look so forlorn, my teacher?�� Mizukiya asked. ��We have crushed the resistance. There is no one left to challenge the empire��s rule over thesends.��

    ��We have taken this region easily enough, I will give you that, but we will struggle <em>keeping </em>it,�� her teacher replied. He waved a hand at their burning prize of a city. ��These people hate us, Princess. Our soldiers will find des hidden behind every patch of grass.��

    ��Let them bring their swords,�� the princess replied with confidence, her hand on her pommel. ��All of my father��s enemies will shatter against my steel.��

    Lord Oboro gave her a strange look, then shook his head. ��There will be no need for that. I promised yourdy mother that I would send you back home once this campaign concluded. Shenguishes for yourpany.��

    Mizukiya flinched. She missed her family too, but Father only cared for her military victories. ��My ce is with my men on the front.��

    ��I am not so sure,�� Lord Oboro replied with a tone that broke no opposition. ��You have said it yourself: there is no one left to challenge us.��

    <em>He does not want me here.</em> Princess Mizukiya straightened in frustration. ��Do you think I will be a burden for you, my teacher?��

    ��At this point, yes, you will be,�� Lord Oboro stated bluntly. ��Negotiating peace with Seukaia will require diplomacy and an open hand, not a closed fist. You would do well to learn from your mother on that front.��

    Mizukiya��s tongue clicked between her teeth. ��I do not like being dismissed.��

    ��Yet many soldiers would rejoice in your ce, to have an opportunity to return home alive and well.�� Lord Oboro��s expression morphed into a thin smile. ��Consider this part of your training, Princess. There is more to life than shortening those of others.�� <blockquote>

    <em>Year 689, Shinkoku Empire, Imperial Retreat near Mount Kazandu.</em>

    <em>The day before the Crimson Moon Tragedy. </em></blockquote>

    Princess Mizukiya strained her kimono as she poured her mother and brother tea.

    The smooth silk felt more ufortable to her than heavy armor. It constrained her like snakes coiling around her limbs. More than that, she felt naked and weak without her sword by her side.

    Her younger brother Doggotaro covered a smile with his hand, which only caused Mizukiya to blush in shame. She struggled to keep a steady hand andplete the tea ceremony.

    ��You did well, Mizukiya,�� her mother congratted her once she sat down again. ��You grow more graceful with each passing day.��

    ��Thank you, Mother,�� Mizukiya replied with sheepish embarrassment.

    ��As for you, Doggotaro, you should not rejoice over your sister��s struggle,�� Mother said as she gently chided the little prince. ��You would not appreciate her mocking you when it is <em>your </em>time to serve.��

    ��I am sorry, Mother,�� the little runt apologized while straightening on his cushion. While Mizukiya took more from her mother, Kurare, to the point some said the princess looked identical to the empress at her age, her brother Doggotaro inherited their father��s aquiline face and deep ck eyes.

    However, the resemnce stopped there. While the emperor had been a fierce warrior since his youth, Mizukiya��s brother was born weak of body though somewhat bright of mind for his young age. He was quick to wheeze, tight in the chest, and struggled to breathe after any form of exercise. His poor health was half the reason their mother insisted on bringing him to the Imperial Retreat whenever possible. The mountain��s pure air helped him greatly, and his family hoped that the warm baths would eventually cure him of his affliction.

    Mizukiya loved her brother as much as she pitied him. The poor child might never know the joy of wielding a sword nor the glory of battle.

    Mizukiya figured that she would give him an imperial schr��s post once she ascended to the throne. Lord Oboro used to say that there was a man for every task. Her brother would make for a fine regent while shepleted their family��s conquest.

    Her mother sighed. ��Do you not enjoy this peaceful ce, daughter?��

    ��I do,�� Mizukiya replied, though she was only half-sincere.

    Located on the base of Mount Kazandu, the Imperial Retreat was a well-protected and elegant wooden mansion with its own expensive graveled garden located behind tall and fortified walls. The plot ofnd boasted cherry trees, bonsai, stonenterns, and a pond filled with koi fish. The empress admired its serenity and delighted in spending time there with her family, drinking tea near the veranda so they could enjoy a splendid view of the mountain. Even Mizukiya, who preferred military marches and tents to the steady quietness of the Shinkokan countryside, couldn��t deny its appeal.

    But she felt like a de gathering rust.

    ��It has been two years of calm, Mother,�� Mizukiya said. ��I cannot sit and serve tea for the rest of my life.��

    ��If your father requires you on the frontlines, I am sure he will send for you,�� her mother replied while sipping her tea. ��I suspect that our teapot would serve you better than your sword if you were sent abroad again.��

    Mizukiya bit her lip. Unfortunately, her mother was right. With Hwajing taken and resistance against the Shinoku��s western upation having copsed, Princess Mizukiya had returned home and never been sent back to the front again; a fact that she regretted more with each passing day. She always slept with her trusted sword at her side, praying for a messenger from her kingly father to wake her up at night.

    She had heard that her father was considering an embargo on Seukaian goods to economically choke what remained of that nation into submission; a n that likely came from Lord Oboro, who had vocally opposed any new armed incursion due tock of good soldiers to maintain their existing territory. The Shinkoku Empire had a much lower poption than Seukaia and thus did not have enough men to upy thetter.

    Moreover, another attack might invite a military response from the Erebian League. The western nations were too distracted with their own troubles to pay attention to Seukaia so long as the flow of goods continued through the Shinkokan colonies. Another war might provoke an intervention from Irem or the Everbright Empire.

    Though she knew it would spell disaster for the empire, a part of Mizukiya longed for this oue; which her mother could tell.

    ��A ruler requires grace and wisdom as much as they require a sword and a steady hand,�� her mother said with a hint of reproach in her voice. ��Once you inherit the throne after your father, then you will need to host noble houses, court diplomats, and curry favor with our people.��

    ��I would rather leave poetry to Doggotaro,�� the princess replied. While she enjoyed her biwa lessons, the arts of the quill remained foreign to her.

    ��Words stumble and fall,�� her brother mocked her gently, ��Lines tangle in knots unread, poems hide from you����

    ��Doggotaro, stop teasing your sister,�� their mother said, though she couldn��t contain her smile. ��Do not be so hard on yourself, Mizukiya. Master Fuma speaks well of your progress and says your mind will one day be as sharp as your sword.��

    ��How will <em>poetry </em>sharpen my mind?�� the princess asked, dubious.

    ��People will always respect a witty soul over a brute,�� her mother replied serenely. ��A ruler must embody all of their nation, its culture included.��

    ��I have never seen Father practice poetry,�� Mizukiya countered. ��Yet he has expanded our borders beyond any other emperor.��

    It had been nearly thirty years since the Shinkoku Empire began its expansion into Seukaia under Mizukiya��s grandfather, all in an effort to expand their nation��s prosperity and progress across the world; a policy which her father pursued with more vigor by upying the entire western coast.

    The Shinkoku was still reeling from the humiliating ��eternal peace of six-hundred twenty-five�� when the Erebian League stripped the empire of all of its colonies and forced it to retreat from the west at cannon point. Mizukiya��s father saw that conquering Seukaia would bolster the nation��s wounded spirit and put them back on the path to greatness.

    It had been why he had put his daughter through grueling training the moment she showed any aptitude with the sword. The emperor��s children had to lead by example and take arms to protect their great country.

    Mizukiya first fought to earn her father��s praise, and then because she had grown to enjoy it over time. She was <em>good </em>at swordy. Many had called her a prodigy, but it was simply the result of hard work, training, and perfectionism.

    ��<em>Conquering</em> a country is not the same as <em>holding </em>it,�� her mother replied. ��I have read Lord Oboro��s reports. Not a day passes by without a revolt popping up in our colonies.��

    ��The Seukaian people will learn to ept us,�� the princess argued. ��We are bringing them peace and prosperity.��

    ��By taking their coal, their wood, and their food?�� her brother muttered under his breath, then cowered when his mother and sister turned to face him. ��Master Fuma said it is wrong to steal, even when our country does it.��

    ��Master Fuma is too much of a free thinker and too old to fear for his future,�� their mother said with a sigh. ��While I admire his work, he would be better off learning how to hold his tongue if he wishes to retain his job.��

    ��Master Fuma has not been to Seukaia, Doggotaro,�� Mizukiya argued while hardly hiding her distaste. This was why she disliked schrs; they always loved to judge others without stepping foot on the ground. ��Seukaia is raw iron, and we are transforming it into stainless steel. Eventually, they will thank us for it.��

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ��Not unless you work to win their hearts, my daughter,�� Mother argued with a smile. ��One can do everything with a sword, <em>except </em>sitting easy on it. If you wish to reign over a peaceful empire after your father��s passing, you would do well to learn how to charm, speak, and listen. Ruling demands different skills than conquering.��

    Princess Mizukiya clenched her jaw, but did not argue any further. A daughter ought to show respect to her parents, even when she privately disagrees with them. What was wrong with enforcing prosperity through force? Or the point of indulging others with tea, kind words, and diplomacy?

    If the Seukaian deserved to win, then they should have fought better.

    The only truthy at the end of a sword.

    A song woke her up in the middle of the night.

    <em>What��s going on? </em>She wondered while inside her futon, her mind still halfway between dream and wakefulness. A screeching sound caused her eyes to snap open. <em>What is that? </em>

    A flute��s melody resonated from upstairs; slow, sorrowful, and haunting. Each of its high-pitched notes sent chills down her spine. It sounded like a symphony of wails and screams.

    She could immediately tell something had gone <em>horribly </em>wrong. The moonlight filtered through her window glowed crimson, and the incense she used to lull herself to sleep peacefully hardly hid the stench of rot and death. She had only felt this sick once, the one time she failed to bring exorcists to a major battle and witnessed the malice of the dead summon a hell of their own making.

    A Blight.

    Mizukiya had lived through enough ambushes and attacks to sense dangering. Thankfully, she always slept with her trusted sword within arm��s reach. She grabbed it in an instant the moment she bolted out of her futon. Her acute senses heard stepsing from the nearby corridor

    ��Who is there?�� Mizukiya called out. ��Is it you, Sakuyara?��

    If it was indeed her handmaiden, she answered the call quickly enough. A shadow opened the door to Mizukiya��s bedroom and stepped inside.

    A horned monster faced her with a toothless mouth and eyes filled with maggots, screeching and wailing.

    The princess�� surprise swiftly turned to joy.

    Mizukiya��s heart pounded in her chest in excitement. She surged forward with her de in hand. The princess did not hesitate for a single second; if anything, she weed the thrill of hearing her steel sing again.

    The monster let out a vicious, soul-rending screech as her sword cut it down in a single stroke. The beast��s hands tried to grab her ankle with its wed hands even in its final death throes, so Mizukiya beheaded it in a single stroke. The head rolled across the floor in a puddle of thick ck blood.

    Mizukiya heard a screaming from the end of the corridor. She turned to see other monsters at the end of it, horned and red-skinned fiends with spears and swords. She charged at them in an instant, disemboweling a swordsman before it could draw its weapon. The other attempted to hit her with its spear, but the monster��s blows were slow, clumsy, and almost hesitant. No one had ever managed to match Mizukiya in battle, and this beast was no exception. His head soon rolled over the carpet too, its corpse copsing on its knees where it belonged.

    Mizukiya��s pulse quickened in her veins. It had been so long since shest felt the thrill of battle. She had almost forgotten it.

    Whoever was trying to assassinate her had delivered her a gift, one that she would relish by ughtering any beast crossing her way. She moved to face the next set of opponents, delighting in their fearful growls.

    But then she heard a familiar scream; one which she had heard so many times whenever her brother woke up from a nightmare.

    Doggotaro.

    Sudden panic seized Mizukiya��s heart. She hadpletely forgotten that her mother and brother were in the mansion too.

    ��Mother!�� Mizukiya rushed across the floor, looking for her family in panic. Monsters were everywhere, some armed, some not. She sliced at any who dared to stand in her way without slowing down.

    What sorcery was going on? Had a demon sorcerer somehow summoned a Blight to engulf the mansion? Whoever was the cause of this nightmare would pay as soon as Mizukiya got her family to safety.

    She would massacre the invaders at her leisure once she had rescued them.

    She broke into her mother��s room to find her brother on the verge of death.

    A spider monster held Doggotaro in its vile, hairy arms. The beast had only the vague shape of a man, but eight eyes and rows of fangs for a face. It gripped her brother above Mother��s bed, using it as a human shield

    Mizukiya��s eyes saw red.

    She had never been one to speak in battle, let alone when it mattered. She did not order the demon to release her brother nor to surrender. Such trash did not deserve mercy.

    She simply struck it through the head and buried her de in its skull.

    Mizukiya nailed the demon against a wall with such force that its brain and blood spilled all over the wood. Some of it stained her brother��s face red, but she considered it a small price to save his life.

    The music abruptly stopped, and two ck eyes stared back at Mizukiya where they had once been eight.

    For a brief second, Mizukiya��s thought process came to a screeching halt. Her mind struggled to believe what her eyes showed her. She stared at the bloodstained raven hair and pale white skin she had embraced so many times, at that fair visage frozen in utter fear, at that familiar dress of silk that her mother said she would inherit one day��

    ��Mo���� Mizukiya��s throat had gone sore all of a sudden, her voice dying out. ��Moth����

    A veil had been lifted off her eyes in an instant, and the bloodstained curtain revealed a fearful sight; one that the princess could not believe.

    This��

    No, this couldn��t be possible�� This was a nightmare, a bad dream she would soon wake up from.

    Mizukiya could only watch in horror and disbelief as the bisected skull of her mother slid down her sword and fell to the ground in a puddle of her own blood. Bits of bones and flesh remained sttered on the wall behind.

    ��I���� Mizukiya��s lips moved on their own, but noplete sentence woulde out of them. ��What�� what����

    The princess heard cries in a corner. She turned her head to find herself staring at her brother, who cowered in the shadows. His face turned crimson from the blood in which it was caked in, and his sunken eyes stared at his sister with the deepest of terrors.

    ��I�� I don��t�� I don��t understand���� Mizukiya gulped. The scarlet moonlight had returned to normal, but the stench of death remained strong. ��I don��t����

    She did. Part of her knew what had happened even before she nced at the door to see the corpse of a servant strung across the floor, in by her own hand for the crime of looking like a monster in her mind.

    She had been tricked. Mizukiya had been tricked, and her mother��

    ��I didn��t���� Mizukiya held back tears, her breath short and heavy with guilt. She sensed her brother��s fearful gaze move from their mother to his sister. ��Doggotaro, I didn��t�� I didn��t mean to do it, I swear, I�C��

    Her brother screamed at her, and that infernal music resumed, this time triumphant and joyful.

    Mocking her.

    The music. The music had cast a spell on her, and forced Mizukiya to�� to��.

    ��I���� Mizukiya wiped away her tears, her sorrow drowned in unyielding rage. She grabbed her sword still stained with the crime of matricide, her mind set on one more murder. ��I swear to the Goddess, you shall not escape!��

    Reluctantly leaving her brother with her mother��s corpse, Mizukiya rushed to the stairs to ascend to the roof. She broke past the only door and stepped on bricks under a sky of dim stars.

    An old man yed the flute under the moonlight.

    He was unbelievably ancient, with saggy wrinkled skin that barely covered his bones and hunched figure. He was bald and wore nothing more than tattered, long-sleeved robes. His skeletal fingers lowered the flute as his lips stopped ying that awful melody.

    ��Under the pale moon, crimson stains upon the earth, silence after screams,�� he said upon turning to face Mizukiya, his crimson eyes gleaming in the moonlight. She could almost <em>feel </em>the searing scorning from them. ��Did you enjoy yourself, murderer?��

    ��You���� Mizukiya��s hand gripped her sword so tightly her fingers started hurting. ��<em>This</em> is your fault.��

    ��Is that so? Then why is <em>your </em>sword alone stained with blood?�� He pulled the sleeve covering his left wrist, revealing a zing palm tattoo on his wrinkled skin. ��Do you remember this mark, witch?��

    Yes, she did. She had seen it on so many corpses two years ago.

    ��You��re from the <em>Firehand Sect</em>.�� Mizukiya��s eyes widened in horror and disbelief. She could only think of one member of that order who could have reached the man��s ancient age; the only elder among them whose demise was never confirmed. ��You��re Master So Xian����

    ��Master.�� His once serene expression twisted into a snarl of disgust, as if to hear the wording out of the princess�� mouth shamed him to his core. ��I was once called that, though I disliked the title, for there is always more to learn. Some students are simply closer to the truth than most. That is why I so often wandered into the mountains in quiet meditation, to remind myself of how small humans were when next to the Goddess�� creation.��

    So Xian pulled on his sleeve again and stared at Mount Kazanda with deep grief.

    ��So imagine my horror when I returned from a month of meditation to find my home an open grave and my city aze.�� He spat at the bricks on the roof. ��Tell me, Blood Blossom, how did you feel when you cut down my disciples? Did it earn you a word of praise from your bastard father? Did shedding the blood of the innocents fill your dark heart with joy?��

    ��You���� Mizukiya��s heart swelled with rage. ��How dare you use <em>me </em>of your own treachery?!��

    ��<em>Your</em> beastly self bears the responsibility of this ughter,�� he replied with a pointed look. ��Did any of these people attack you?��

    Mizukiya flinched as if she had been punched in the gut.

    She knew that the warlock was only trying to hurt her, but images soon flooded into her mind; scenes of monsters raising their hands not to choke her throat, but to wake her up or in surrender; of guards trying not to hit her too hard for fear of wounding her; of her mother desperately trying to protect her brother from her maddened daughter.

    ��I���� Her voice broke. ��I thought�C��

    ��You thought with your <em>sword </em>rather than your <em>head</em>, as your savage kind always does,�� the ancient man cut in with seething contempt. ��If you had paid any attention to your surroundings, if you had shown any wisdom, you would have seen the truthid bare before your eyes.��

    Mizukiya refused to ept his words. If she did, then it meant�� it meant that she could have spared mother��s life��

    ��You tricked me���� Mizukiya said, tears forming in her eyes. ��You tricked me!��

    ��Don��t you know? Demons <em>lie</em>.��

    The man��s features changed into that of a monster, his skin fading away to reveal a skeleton of ckened bones underneath. His skull and hands burned with a purple-tainted ghostly me, and his eyes shone like twin red stars in a sea of darkness. Mizukiya steadied her de for battle, her heart resolute.

    ��In the depths of my despair, I have sold my soul to the Golden Hell and be a demon myself,�� the foul demon dered, his voice brimming with self-loathing. ��I gave away my most precious possession for a trivial price: the power to bring about this moment and throw your cursednd into turmoil.��

    ��Why?�� Mizukiya��s voice broke in her grief. ��My mother and brother did nothing to your people. Why didn��t youe for me alone?!��

    ��Because it was not enough for you to <em>die</em>,�� the demon replied with a snarl of fury. ��I should have perished fighting with myrades and protecting my disciples, but you forced a crueler fate upon me still. You condemned me to <em>live </em>with my shame and regrets; and now, <em>you </em>shall suffer the same agony.��

    ��Perhaps I will suffer,�� Mizukiya said as she took a step forward with murder in her mind. ��But so shall <em>you</em>.��

    ��No, you bloodthirsty beast; I shall not die on your fangs, nor give you the courtesy of indulging your appetite for death,�� he said, his burning hands pressed against his chest. ��I am a petal blossom too, short of life.��

    His teeth stretched into a ghastly, skeletal smile.

    ��I know how to fly.��

    He jumped out into the void, head-first.

    Mizukiya rushed to the roof��s edge in panic, but though she crossed the gap between them in an instant, it was already toote. She heard a crunch as the old demon��s skull shattered against the garden��s stones below, his neck bent and broken. His corpse soon turned into red mist before Mizukiya even had time to blink, alongside his clothes and flute.

    He had denied the princess the pleasure of killing him, and left no evidence of his treachery.

    He had condemned Mizukiya to live with her sins.

    The throne room was silent.

    Two soldiers escorted her past the golden dragon gates adorning it. Hardly a few years ago, she had passed them with her sword and her head held high with pride to receive her father��s praise for her actions during the Seukaian Conquest.

    Now, she did so with her hands bound by a rope, stripped of her sword and imperial armor. She could have broken free easily enough, if she had enough willpower left to do so. The depths of her shame had suffocated any will to resist.

    The imperial council sat on the floor under the shadow of six columns of solid and chiseled wood. Banners hung along the walls showcased tales of the Shinkoku Empire��s glorious unification and mythical scenes of warriors and artists that brought glory to their nation. Mizukiya��s father alone was afforded a seat worthy of him: a mighty jade throne adorned by two dragons, which she thought she would one day inherit.

    The emperor��s dark re shattered these hopes.

    Mizukiya hardly dared to get a glimpse of her father��s face before lowering her own in shame. His usually stern expression had twisted into a ferocious scowl without any trace of love or forgiveness.

    Her mother had been the love of his life, and she had robbed him of it.

    He wasn��t the only one she had disappointed. Lord Oboro sat at her father��s right side, as he always did; though he had been allowed to retain his sword. His face might as well have been made of stone.

    Mizukiya bit her lip in shame and began to whisper an apology, ��My teacher�C��

    ��I am no teacher,�� he interrupted her, his voice colder than ice and filled with bitter disappointment. ��You��ve learned <em>nothing</em>.��

    Those words cut sharper than any de, because they were true. Lord Oboro had taught her to draw her de only when she <em>had </em>to, and disregarding his advice had cost her <em>everything</em>.

    Mizukiya would have cried if she had any tears left. She had spent them all over her mother��s corpse.

    The guards had her kneel in front of the Jade Throne like the condemned prisoner she was, her forehead pressing against the wooden floor. The soldiers�� hands pressing on her back felt lighter than the emperor��s gaze. A tense silence hung in the air for what seemed like forever.

    Mizukiya gulped. ��Father�C��

    ��Do not call me that, <em>kinyer</em>.��

    Mizukiya closed her eyes in guilt, the word knitting her stomach. ��I�� I am so sorry����

    ��Are you?�� She could feel her father��s teeth clenching in icy rage. ��Youe to me with your hands stained with your mother��s blood, and your brother is so frightened that he won��t even leave his room, yet you <em>dare </em>to ask me for forgiveness?��

    ��I was���� Mizukiya repressed her tears of shame and guilt. ��I was tricked����

    ��So you say. A pity there��s no one left alive to confirm your tale, besides your brother of course.�� She heard his nails screeching against his throne��s armrests. ��He said you were <em>smiling </em>when you cut your mother down.��

    ��I���� Did she? She had always enjoyed the thrill of battle and bloodlust, but she�� she couldn��t remember. Had it been another of So Xian��s tricks? Had he warped her brother��s mind too? No one had heard his music besides herself, so it could have been an illusion.

    What would it change anyway?

    ��Were you not my blood, I would have spilled yours over the floor by now,�� Father dered sternly. ��But I will grant you a chance to live, maybe even to atone.��

    Mizukiya��s heart skipped a beat in her chest. For the first time since that awful night, she dared to hope.

    ��I will do <em>anything</em>,�� she begged her father, her voice so low and weak she wondered if he could even hear her. ��Please�� please forgive me.��

    ��You wish for <em>forgiveness</em>?�� Father snorted in disdain. ��Then bring back your mother from the dead.��

    Her body went cold with despair, doubly so when she noticed a few advisors smiling around her. Lord Oboro did not, but he turned his head away nheless. All of them could see the emperor��s judgment for what it was: a cruel punishment at her expense.

    Everyone knew the dead lingered beyond the living��s reach.

    ��I���� Mizukiya cleared her throat. ��I cannot�� I don��t think that��s even possible����

    ��Then redemption shall forever be beyond your reach,�� Father replied harshly. ��Until that dayes, you shall be exiled from our beloved nation and stripped of your honor. You are no daughter of mine anymore, let alone the crown princess to the imperial throne. From now on, you are <em>nothing</em>.��

    Mizukiya flinched, her hands clenching in humiliation. Her father had never been known for his mercy, but now that she was on the receiving end of his judgment she realized he truly had none. All of her achievements, all of these years of loyalty, and her blood ties hadn��t earned his daughter any extenuating circumstances.

    She had been given an impossible task to atone for an unforgivable crime.

    And even that meager hope of salvation might have been too good for her.

    ��I�� understand,�� Mizukiya replied without argument.

    ��Should you return to us without your mother, then your head shall roll on my floor; daughter or not,�� the emperor dered with spite. ��Now, begone from my sight.��

    The guards dragged her out, and the throne room��s gates closed behind her forever.

    It was thest time Mizukiya ever saw her family. She boarded a ship on a one-way trip, and never returned.

    She hadn��t even been given time to pray at her mother��s tomb.  <ul><li>

    Present Day</li></ul>

    Soraseo looked at the shores of her homnd from the deck.

    It had been a long year and a half since she had left it on a ship bound for foreignnds, a scorned exile stripped of everything. The steep cliffs and rocks rising out of the sea had looked so grim back then, and the greenery of her homnd so distant, like a dream fading away as she awoke into a new and harsher reality. Even her true name had been stained with the shame of matricide.

    She thought that happiness would overwhelm her upon seeing her nation again. Instead, she felt a deep sense of unease, tension, and mncholia. The morning mist enveloping the Shinkoku Empire and nketing its horizon had never felt more unweing.

    Evil was already afoot there. She could feel it in her bones.

    A year ago, she thought that So Xian��s revenge had been a mere case of demonic cruelty; now she wondered if this had all been the Devil of Greed��s n from the start. So Xian had mentioned selling his soul to a Golden Hell and casting the Shinkoku Empire into turmoil, which implied that the foul Demon Ancestor at least approved and exploited his quest for revenge for her own gain.

    Had wicked Daltia seen an opportunity to destabilize the country that she hoped to exploit for her mad ascension to godhood? Soraseo had grown convinced of it since they set sail for her homnd. Circumstances simply aligned too perfectly.

    Soraseo knew it didn��t absolve her of anything. It had taken her a year of wandering, but she now realized that her actions in Hwajing had been a crime rather than a glorious act worthy of celebration. She had been no better than Belgoroth to the people of Seukaia, setting their cities aze in the name of brutality veiled in high-minded ideals.

    The Devil of Greed had simply watered and harvested the seeds of sorrow that Soraseo had nted, nothing more.

    Her mother��s death was on her too, brought forth by her rashness and overconfidence. She didn��t think she would ever fully forgive herself for it, even after meeting her ghost at the Deadgate.

    Robin stood next to her along the airship��s arm rail. He had joined Soraseo there soon after Marika informed them that she sawnd. Her friend always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to sensing others�� sorrow.

    ��Your country looks beautiful, Soraseo,�� he said, his eyes gazing at the faint mist flowing between the rocks and foggy forests in the distance. ��Almost ethereal.��

    Soraseo...

    How strange. She hade up with that name as an improvised lie to escape the shame she had brought on her true name, yet she hade to look at it with pride. Mizukiya the Blood Blossom had been a curse who inspired fear and loathing in others. The name of Soraseo the Exiled instead belonged to a Hero who had stood firm against the mighty Lord of Wrath himself. She hade to consider both of them part of herself.

    Soraseo noticed that her friend had uttered those words in her native tongue, which she appreciated. She weaved words better in Shinkokan than in the Archfrostian tongue.

    ��It is,�� Soraseo conceded with a nod. ��Sometimes, lucky souls can see wisps in the fog.��

    He raised an eyebrow, his eyes alight with curiosity. ��Wisps?��

    ��Yes. The fire essence flowing from Mount Kazandu often ignites in the form of fireballs in the mist.�� Soraseo used to think those wisps were the souls of the dead once. She remembered looking at them on the day of her departure, searching for her mother among them. ��It is odd that we do not see any.��

    Soraseo��s power allowed her to pick up on all the subtle changes and microexpressions on another��s face. Robin tried to hide his concern to avoid worrying her, but she knew exactly what thought had crossed his mind.

    The wisps�� absence might imply that the flow of essenceing from Mount Kazandu had been interfered with.

    Her country might already be undergoing a demonic siege with no one to protect it. The army was exhausted and stretched across its colonies, the people leaderless, and her brother�� her brother was alone and frightened.

    ��Once, I mistook my father for being a strong and willful man,�� Soraseo dered, a hand on her pommel. ��Now I see that he was simply cruel and ambitious.��

    Her father had loved her like a swordsman loved his weapon; cherished when sharp and easily discarded when it brought its wielder shame. He had ruled as a conqueror, taking what he wanted by force of arms without considering what would survive his reign. If Soraseo had inherited the throne after he perished��

    <em>No. </em>Soraseo knew the truth deep within her heart. <em>I would have brought war and shame to my homnd back then. The mark would not have chosen me either. </em>

    It must have been why it struck her the day after shended in the Rivend Federation, a nameless exile who had lost everything. Earning a ss had taken Soraseo by surprise. After everything she had done, she couldn��t fathom why the Monk��s mark would choose her of all possible candidates. She remembered wondering why it didn''t go to the likes of Lord Oboro.

    It had given her hope that her quest might not be in vain though, that she could atone for her crimes by purging the world of demons. It gave her the strength to continue and meet friends who supported her through many ordeals.

    Without her exile, Soraseo would have been unworthy of both the throne and her ss. She was certain of it. The Fatebinder had said as much; the marks only chose those who understood what it meant to be weak.

    ��My family has brought great shame to our nation and stained our throne with dishonor,�� Soraseo told Robin, who listened with patience. ��I see now that Mother would have wanted me to wash the filth away, and that I shall do. I will purge our demons, whether born from coins or our ambitions.��

    She turned to her friend, who had stood with her through so many ordeals. He had helped her rise when she had fallen at her lowest, and for this, she felt she owed him both a debt and her respect. He, Marika, and the others had remained when many would have left.

    ��I cannot do this alone, Robin,�� she said. ��Will you fight by my side?��

    ��Do you even need to ask?�� Robin smiled ear to ear. ��I will always have your back.��

    Soraseo guessed as much, but it warmed her heart nheless.

    This time, she would prove worthy of her mark.

 Chapter Fifty-Six: Land of Mist Blossoms

    Chapter Fifty-Six: Land of Mist Blossoms

    It was past midday, and the fog hadn��t risen yet.

    I would have likely enjoyed the sight of the Shinkoku Empire otherwise. After days of travel across the ocean, I weed the opportunity to see solid ground and the ind nation was famous for its beauty. Unfortunately, the mist hovering over the country was so thick I couldn��t see the ground, let alone the horizon. The <em>Colmar��s</em> speed considerably slowed down, likely because Marika didn��t wish us to identally hit an obstacle.

    I wasn��t especially talented when it came to analyzing weather patterns, but I had the feeling this phenomenon wasn��t natural in the slightest.

    ��Is this kind of fog normal at this time of the year?�� I asked Soraseo.

    ��No,�� Soraseo confirmed. ��It is not.��

    I figured as much. Activating my magical sight confirmed that the fog was saturated with essence. It was probably the result of a witchcrafting ritual of some kind; a spell of such power I could only think of one being capable of casting it.

    ��She <em>knows</em>,�� I said immediately. ��She knows we��reing.��

    Soraseo nodded sharply. ��The Devil awaits us.��

    Eris teleported to our side, her staff glowing in her hands. Its light repelled the mist far enough to let us see shades of mountains in the distance. ��When they say a nun��s role is to light the way for the faithful, I didn��t take it literally,�� I teased my lover.

    ��What can I say? Being a living lighthouse is half the job.�� Eris shrugged her shoulders. ��Mirokald knows the way to Mount Kazandu and can guide us through the mist, but it doesn��t hurt to give him a little more visibility.��

    ��That would be wise,�� Imented before questioning Soraseo. ��Should we expect anything? Besides the likely inevitable demon ambush?��

    Soraseo crossed her arms and pondered over the matter. ��Mount Kazandu is a sacred mountain,�� she exined. ��Its depths hold a wealth of runestones which my country harvests. Its base is well-secured with barriers and defenses, but I do not recall any defenses against aerial assaults. Wyvern and pegasi riders are very rare in the east.��

    ��So we should at least be able to survey the site, if not secure it?�� Her nod warmed my heart as I turned back to face Eris. ��How long until Rubenzo��s group rejoins us?��

    ��They were still on their boat when I checked on them yesterday and should makendfall soon,�� Eris replied. ��We��ll probably reach our destination a few days early.��

    Excellent. In that case, we could at least scout out Mount Kazandu before regrouping at the capital.

    We had split into two groups after Goldport in order to maximize our chances. Rubenzo, Mersie, and Chronius traveled with the former��s theater troupe by sea and would enter the Shinkoku Empire the ��legal�� way under the pretense of performing in the capital. Marika, Mirokald, Eris, Soraseo, Benny, and I would instead infiltrate the country from the air. Erika had also decided to stay with our group in order to continue tutoring Benny, which her father agreed to. He probably thought she would be safer with arger party of heroes than his own team.

    I wished I could be as confident. I fully expected Daltia to send demons after us the moment she learned of our location, and Soraseo��s identity might attract attention from the Shinkokan authorities should she be identified too early.

    I was about to return inside when the <em>Colmar��s </em>left nk erupted in mes.

    I saw a sh of light a mere seconds before a mighty detonation sent wooden and steel shrapnel flying in all directions. The st pushed the fog back, then caused the entire ship to swing sideways.

    I nearly slipped over the armrail and into the void below, but Soraseo managed to catch my cloak just in time. Eris wasn��t so lucky, though she simply teleported back onto the ship the moment she lost her footing. The rm rang across the airship, like it did when Belgoroth shot its predecessor down from the sky.

    It brought back so many bad memories.

    ��Are we under attack?!�� I shouted after Soraseo pulled me back onto the observation deck. I could see the light of mes below us past the smoke, but no flying demon which could have struck us by surprise.

    ��I don��t see anything!�� Eris shouted.

    Soraseo drew her sword, her gaze sharper than iron. ��The st came from the <em>inside</em>.��

    My jaw clenched on its own. I looked at the plume of smoke rising from the <em>Colmar��s </em>side and quickly pinpointed its source.

    ��The explosion came from the cargo hold,�� I said while rushing inside. ��Soraseo, with me! Eris, check on the others!��

    Soraseo and I immediately rushed inside the <em>Colmar </em>while Eris teleported away. Raindrops of water dropped from the corridors�� ceiling all across each and every room. After Belgoroth set the first airship aze, Marika and I had installed a sprinkler system in its sessor by using a system of conveyor belts and water tanks to smother any potential inferno. I hoped it would be enough to prevent its destruction.

    Why did the cargo hold explode? We didn��t keep any fire runestone there specifically to avoid this kind of ident. The only area at risk was the engine, which Marika and I watched over with rigor and professionalism. I could only think of one exnation.

    We had a saboteur onboard.

    My suspicions were only confirmed when we found the door to the cargo hold barricaded from the other side. Soraseo swiftly broke through it with her essence-sharpened sword, which let us walk inside.

    I almost had a heart attack when I saw the cargo hold. While the sprinklers sessfully contained the fire, arge hole had opened in the ship��s hull and a few of our goods and chests had already fallen through. Thankfully, though they neighed in panic inside their pens, our horses and Mirokald��s drenched stusk remained unharmed.

    The likely culprit stood at the edge of the smoking hole, her hair flowing in the wind and a jumping bag on her back. The smell of shattered fire runestones lingered in the air around her.

    ��Erika?�� I asked in utter surprise.

    Chronius�� daughter turned her head at us, and I immediately felt a chill run down my spine. Something about her posture had turned <em>predatory</em>. Her gaze was colder than ice, her face without emotion; like a bored actor putting on a mask.

    ��Hello there,�� she said with a voice a bit <em>too </em>deep for her. ��I��m sorry for the sudden departure, but I have to reunite with my face. Tell Daltia I said hello.��

    My blood froze in my veins. I immediately recognized who we were facing, as did Soraseo.

    ��Where is she, demon?�� my friend asked, her sword drawn for the kill. ��The <em>real </em>one?��

    The <em>thing </em>wearing Erika��s face smiled at us with immense malice. ��I stole her.��

    Then she jumped into the void.

    Soraseo rushed at her and swung her sword, far toote. Her de missed our infiltrator by an inch. It only took a few seconds for the fake Erika to vanish into the mist.

    <em>I stole her. </em>The sentence rang in my head like a curse, even as Marika��s voice rang through the loudspeakers. ��We��ve gotpanying from the east!��

    I heard screeches in the distance, so high-pitched and haunting I could immediately tell they didn��t belong to any natural creature. I saw two huge shadows flying in the mist, followed by a sh of fireing from above. Eris had unleashed a fireball at a set of creatures approaching us, though I couldn��t tell if she managed to hit either of them.

    The explosion had alerted demons to our position.

    ��Go grab a bow!�� I told Soraseo while I rushed deeper into the cargo hold. ��I��ll close the hole!��

    ��Toote,�� Soraseo replied while positioning herself near the edge, her sword drawn. ��One ising.��

    A monstrous beast flew straight into the cargo hold��s hole before I could ask for details.

    The demon was a grotesque perversion of an avian beast, its pale sallow flesh bulging with coarse veins and a sagging underbelly. I had no idea how its ragged wings could sustain a creature nearly as huge as a stoneskin in the air, but it did. The monster broke midway into the cargo hold with a set of talon arms and the disturbingly human face of an obese human with a fanged maw and a crown of horns.

    The beast attempted to close its yellow fangs on Soraseo��s head, but my friend easily dodged and shed the beast across its gut. Disgusting, greasy yellow blood dripped from what should have been a lethal wound, but the monster simply responded with a furious flurry of ws that cut through wood and steel like knives through butter. Soraseo easily danced around its blows and countered with shes of her own.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Trusting my friend to handle herself, I moved to the end of the cargo hold. A blue runestone scepter awaited in a ss box inside the wall. I immediately smashed it with my fist and grabbed the object inside.

    Before Luciette and Rosaline left us in Goldport to rejoin the Mage, I��d asked for their help in storing some ice essence for future use. This scepter was the result.

    I rushed back to assist Soraseo with my new weapon which was cold on my hands. My friend had cut off one of the demon��s talons, while the other failed to smash Soraseo into fine paste. It did seed in destroying a chest full of jewelry and sending its contents spilling all over the floor and through the hole. I would have been annoyed if the threat of crashing to our deaths didn��t drown out all other concerns.

    I pointed the scepter at our invader before it could cause any more damage. Essence flowed out of my weapon in a cloud of white mist that covered the demon��s face and wings in a thickyer of ice. It swiftly lost its bnce, which allowed Soraseo to slice its head off in a swift stroke. The corpse turned to red mist swiftly afterward.

    Not having to deal with a giant demon allowed me to start plugging the cargo hole with ice. All the water from the sprinklers made that easier. I saw a lightning bolt coursing outside the airship and the shape of a monstrous, gold-scaled griffin falling outside. Eris must have shot it down with a spell.

    Nheless, tremors continued to rock the airship and it quickly started losing altitude.

    ��The balloon was damaged!�� Marika warned through the loudspeakers. ��We��re making an emergencynding!��

    I clenched my teeth and focused on closing the hole. I barely had time to see a glimpse of clear water beneath us through the ice before the <em>Colmar</em> hit its surface, the sudden bump sending chests flying across the cargo.

    This mission hadn��t started out so well.

    In the end, Soraseo and I managed to plug the leaks and prevent the <em>Colmar </em>from sinking.

    Marika and Mirokald had managed tond the airship<em></em>into ake which Soraseo was currently trying to identify with Benny��s assistance. Eris had shot down another demon besides the one we slew, but a third had managed to flee into the mist, which meant it was only a matter of time before it returned with reinforcements.

    Whatever the case, if Daltia wasn��t aware of our presence yet, she would soon learn of it. The mere fact that she had aerial demons patrolling the region around the capital meant she expected our visit.

    And unfortunately, she wasn��t the only Demon Ancestor we would have to contend with.

    ��So?�� I asked Mirokald as he finished smelling around the cargo hold. ��Do you notice anything?��

    ��Yes, a human��s smell which I do not recognize,�� Mirokald growled. ��We had a stowaway.��

    My jaw clenched on its own and I cursed my inattention. Mirokald, Eris, Marika, and I had spent a good hour searching the ship for any other runestone bombs or hints about the real Erika��s whereabouts. We had found a few explosives near the engine room which the sprinklers had thankfully prevented the detonation of. Things could have been <em>much </em>worse if our intruder had managed to ess that room.

    I thanked the Goddess only Marika and I had keys to ess it. We had crafted some basic safety and anti-infiltration procedures to avoid that very kind of oue; and unfortunately, it hadn��t been enough.

    ��And Erika?�� Marika asked with a scowl. Out of all of us, she was the most shaken by this turn of events. She had entrusted Chronius�� daughter to teach her son, only to learn that they had been talking to a murderous impostor.

    ��The two smells join at a certain point,�� Mirokald replied grimly. ��My guess is that our intruder ambushed her while she was checking on the animals and took her ce, but I can��t find the body.��

    ��They didn��t leave one,�� I replied. The more I thought about the implications, the worse the shivers ran down my spine. ��They said they had <em>stolen </em>Erika.��

    ��Stolen?�� Marika paled in recognition. ��So that thing was�C��

    ��Shamshir,�� Eris confirmed with a dark look. ��The Shadow of Envy.��

    We had shared breakfasts with a Demon Ancestor without any of us realizing it.

    The most frightening part about this ordeal was that our marks hadn��t detected Shamshir��s. I knew it made sense considering that they belonged to two different sets, but it showed that we had very few ways of actually identifying them.

    ��The Shadow usually stops at stealing a victim��s face and memories, but when they want to be thorough, to be certain they won��t slip up in any way or form�� they can steal an entire person,�� Eris exined to us. ��Their face, their body, their soul... They absorb their victim into themselves.��

    ��So Erika isn��t dead,�� Marika said, hopeful.

    ��No,�� Eris replied with a grim look. ��But she probably wishes she were.��

    A tense silence followed her deration. Rubenzo had told me of the issues he suffered when he stole memories or pieces of others he couldn��t get rid of. To steal another person, from their soul to their flesh and their entire sense of self, would be a terrifying experience for both parties. Yet the Shadow of Envy didn��t even <em>hesitate</em>.

    How many people were <em>stuck </em>inside that monster?

    ��Can we get her back somehow?�� I asked, though I worried it would be a long shot.

    Eris didn��t look too confident. ��If we kill the Shadow somehow, maybe, or if you trick it into a deal or negotiate one.��

    ��So they��re keeping her as a hostage,�� I guessed.

    Marika crossed her arms. ��How long has it been? Since the switch?��

    ��Goldport,�� Eris replied, her arms crossed. ��It had to be since Goldport. There was no reason the Shadow would travel to Erebia when we were there, while Goldport had a Knot cell hiding in the city and ships that serviced the Shinkoku. I would bet that the switch happened around that time.��

    I suspected as much. Erika mostly spent time with us until the exorcism mission, when all of our gathered Heroes cleared the Blight over the Salvadoreen Mansion. If the Shadow had been stalking us for a while, they could have easily switched with her around this time.

    I knew it seemed <em>odd </em>that Erika would choose to stay with us rather than follow her father, but I��d chalked that up to her wanting to stay safe with arger party and to keep tutoring Benny.

    ��In that case, we must assume that the Shadow knows <em>everything </em>Erika does,�� Mirokald concluded. ��Maybe more if they managed to steal our memories or spy on our discussions without our notice.��

    ��Which is an awful lot,�� Marika pointed out. ��They likely know about the crown and everyone��s identities. If Shamshir approaches Chronius�� group while pretending to be his daughter�C��

    ��I��ll go warn the other group immediately,�� Eris cut in. ��Though I don��t think the Shadow will take the risk now that we know the truth. I suspect they will instead steal another identity and infiltrate the Devil��s forces. This will put them in the best position to steal the crown when the timees.��

    ��We were extremely lucky,�� Marika muttered under her breath. ��The Shadow might have killed everyone onboard if they had managed to ess the alchemical engine. Our safety protocols lessened the damage.��

    ��I don��t think it was luck, not entirely,�� I replied. ��If they have been with us since Goldport, then they passed on plenty of opportunities to ambush or cripple us.��

    Mirokald clenched his jaw. ��If the Shadow has the Assassin��s power, then they could have killed us all in our sleep with a brush of a finger. That fiend <em>allowed </em>us to live.��

    ��Exactly,�� I confirmed. ��I suspect they want us dyed, not out of the game.��

    Marika scowled. ��They think we��ll take care of Daltia for them?��

    I nodded in assent. ��My guess is that they want us and Daltia��s forces to keep fighting each other so it can exploit the chaos to snatch the new Artifact away. If we had reached Mount Kazandu by air before they were ready to act, we would have had a good chance of seizing the site or at least preventing the Devil of Greed from using it; something which will be much harder now once she learns of our presence. And by letting us know they stole Erika, they can use her as a hostage to ckmail us with.��

    ��I could use my power to track them down,�� Mirokald suggested.

    ��That wouldn��t help us much,�� I replied immediately. ��Even if we confronted the Shadow of Envy in battle with our superior numbers, we have no way of actually keeping them in the ground. We don��t know what their soulbound item is, let alone where it��s located.��

    ��Besides, the Devil of Greed remains our top priority,�� Eris added. ��Shamshir is individually dangerous, but theyck the means to create an Artifact capable of unraveling reality itself.��

    ��What do you think the Shadow meant when they said they had to<em> ��reunite with their face?��</em>�� I inquired. I had a gut feeling that this was important somehow.

    Eris shook her head. ��I cannot say, handsome. Stories say that the Shadow��s true face, gender, and identity were never uncovered, even by their allies.��

    Which meant even the Devil of Greed didn��t know more than we did. I wasn��t sure how to take that news. With some luck, Daltia having to deal with another rival might help us prevail.

    ��Let��s assess the damage done then,�� I said while taking coins from my purse. ��I will purchase your memories from Goldport and then return them. Since the Shadow does not own what they take, if they have messed with our perception somehow then this should either cancel the deal or the theft.��

    I proceeded to test everyone present, and then Soraseo and Benny once we rejoined them on the ship��s deck. I quickly confirmed that Shamshir didn��t steal any of our memories, nor that anyone recalled touching Erika in a way that would have triggered their unique ability. I guessed that our decision to limit physical contact to reduce the risk of Shadow infiltration had partly paid off.

    Otherwise, Benny��whom the truth had clearly spooked him to his core��had managed to use his power to help his mother repair the <em>Colmar</em> enough to serve as a normal ship, though it would take a lot more time and resources to make it flight-worthy again. Benny��s ability let him create runestones, but not charge them with the essence we needed to fuel the alchemical furnace; and between the demon attack��s damage and the Shadow��s sabotage, our supplies had hit a record low.

    We��d need to return to civilization to restock.

    ��I believe that this is Lake Upowa, in the wends,�� Soraseo informed us. ��We are a day��s ride away from the capital, Seiraku, and two from Mount Kazandu.��

    That both pleased and displeased me. ��On one hand, we could buy new wind and fire runestones at the capital,�� I said. ��On the other hand, the authorities are bound to dispatch a search party to investigate an explosion in the sky so close to their center of power. Considering demons are openly flying around, it wouldn��t surprise me if the Knots have infiltrated the army.��

    ��I know ces along the river where we can hide the <em>Colmar</em>,�� Soraseo reassured me. ��Coves and secret refuges known only to the imperial family and meant to be used in troubled times.��

    ��Even if we can resupply, it will take a few days of repair until the <em>Colmar </em>can fly again,�� Marika warned us. ��Seo, do you think the government can help us secure Mount Kazandu? Or at least send a contingent of soldiers to help us secure the site?��

    Soraseo scowled grimly. ��I cannot say. I can ask my old teacher, but���� She looked away at the mist-coveredke waters. ��I do not know if he is still angry with me.��

    While Soraseo had technically fulfilled the conditions her father set to end her exile, her brother ��ruled�� the empire under a council of regents, none of whom might appreciate the princess�� return. We��d better gain more information before announcing her presence.

    ��I��ll use my power to alter your face until we can ensure your safety,�� I said. ��Switch a few colors until no one can recognize you. We��ll buy the runestones we need, gather information, see if we can reunite with Rubenzo��s group there, and act ordingly.��

    ��Thank you for your wisdom, Robin,�� Soraseo replied with a smile of gratitude. ��I shall do my best to guide you in return.��

    ��We��ve got another problem,�� Mirokald said with a deep scowl. ��Ma and I will attract attention around these parts, won��t we?��

    Soraseo nodded sadly. ��Our people have never seen yetis nor stusks. Your presence will inspire confusion, if not panic.��

    ��Then we��ll split up,�� Mirokald decided. ��Ma and I will stick to the wilderness while you rejoin civilization.��

    ��Are you certain, Miro?�� Eris asked. ��You don��t know the terrain. The Shinkoku Empire isn��t the northernnds.��

    ��You wound me, Eris. I��m the Hunter. Nobody can find me in the wilderness unless I let them, and we��ll hide better on our own than with arge group.�� Mirokald nodded to himself. ��Ma and I will find our own way to the mountain undetected, so we can keep an eye on it. Eris can help us stay in contact and coordinate.��

    ��You should stick to observation until we can gather forces there,�� I advised. ��Unless the Artifact ritual seems to be underway, in which case�� well����

    ��In which case, we��ll do what we can to buy time.�� Marokald shrugged her shoulders, his hand gripping his spear. ��I know what I signed up for.��

    I exchanged a few nces with the others. All in all, we had a solid n in spite of the unforeseen circumstances.

    The Shinkoku expedition had officially begun.

 Chapter Fifty-Seven: Fog of a Forlorn Empire

    Chapter Fifty-Seven: Fog of a Forlorn Empire

    When the walls of Seiraku appeared out of the mist, I immediately knew that this city had been built for war.

    From the belching forges whose smoke overwhelmed even the thick mist and the sprawling central keep��a crimson pagoda of steel and stone that rivaled even Archfrost��s pce in size��this ce reminded me more of arge military fortress than a capital city. A deep moat connected the city to the dark river, which connected to theke on which our airship had crashed into earlier and to a dense canal system on which junk ships slid. I��d rarely seen them outside of Rivend Federation ports or books, nor so many. It seemed the Shinkokan used them as their main method of transportation across their center of power.

    I would have found the view beautiful without the towering stone walls and fearsome square towers surrounding every inch of the city. Spear and arquebuse-wielding soldiers incquered armor watched us suspiciously from their positions as our convoy joined the procession of visitors seeking to enter the capital; a smaller amount than I would have expected from such arge settlement.

    I quickly understood why when a group of guards and a city official in fine ck robes started interrogating a line of peasants and visitors, sometimes rather aggressively. Some had their goods confiscated and a few were taken away under heavy escort for what I assumed to be detention. I noticed that the guards seemed to pay particr attention to Shinkokan women, which I knew wasn��t a good sign.

    Thankfully, I had used my power to alter our group��s facial features. I��d ensured it would seem I shared a family resemnce with Beni, changed Soraseo��s eyes to pale gray and her face to something uglier, and gave Eris moremon features. My lover also traded her nun��s clothing for a simpler cloak and tunic, since Arcane Abbey missionaries were forbidden from setting foot in the Shinkoku. We��d even managed to hide our marks underyers of bandages. I doubted anyone would be able to identify us for who we truly were.

    ��By order of the regent council, all foreigners are denied entrance into fair Seiraku,�� the official warned us once our turn came. The way he looked at me made his disdain for non-Shinkokans clear. ��Identify yourselves."

    ��My name is Rean Darkshine, a humble merchant from the Rivend Federation,�� I replied in perfect Shinkokan before providing a document which boasted their dead ruler��s personal jade dragon seal. ��I have a letter of passage from thete Emperor, may he rest in peace. I assume it is still valid?��

    The official carefully took the scroll from my hands and duly reviewed it. I could tell the moment he spotted the emperor��s seal from the way his eyes widened slightly in shock and recognition. Between Soraseo��s knowledge of her homnd and supernatural skills at forgery, we had no issues creating a perfect mimicry.

    ��This is genuine,�� the official said upon returning the document to me, his tone noticeably more respectful now. ��Are you here for business or personal matters?"

    ��<em>State</em>matters,�� I replied with aplomb.

    The official studied me for a moment, then nodded in understanding. ��As I suspected.��

    It was an open secret that the Shinkoku Empire paid off foreign merchants to serve as spies and agents of influence in other countries, which provided us with the perfect cover story. With the change in leadership in the capital, we had returned to meet our handlers and receive new orders. Our perfect mastery of Shinkokan only strengthened the illusion of legitimacy.

    Receiving a seal from the former emperor meant that I answered to high-ranked generals in the Shinkokan military; the kind who would have an official��s head on a pike for dying us or asking too many questions.

    The official then checked on the rest of our convoy. We��de with a wagon carrying furs, jewelry, and a disassembled Ravengarde which we disguised as mere enchanted armor. It had taken us a day and a half to reach the city after hiding the<em>Colmar</em>and splitting from Mirokald, so we were all eager to settle down.

    Soldiers searched through everything for hidden weapons or contraband and found none. I noted that they specifically asked if we transported rice, which I had seen them confiscate from peasants in the line. I suspected that the regents had instituted martialw and stocked food supplies to feed the army.

    ��Who are yourpanions, esteemed visitor?�� the official asked as he proceeded to assess our group.

    ��These are my wife and child,�� I said upon introducing Marika and Beni, while patting thetter on the shoulders. ��Say hello to the good government official, Bonito.��

    ��Nice to meet you,�� Benny replied with a shy smile in Shinkokan. Using a fake name embarrassed him more than the fact I��d called him my son in public.

    ��He speaks our venerable tongue well enough for his age,�� the official sincerelyplimented us. He hardly paid attention to Eris when I introduced her as my family��s maid, but his expression noticeably hardened upon seeing Soraseo. ��May I examine this one?��

    While Soraseo was too experienced to show unease, I simply raised an eyebrow and feigned confusion. ��Is there an issue with my assistant?��

    ��By the regent council��s orders, all women of Shinkokan descent between eighteen and twenty-five with the ck hair and golden eyes of the royal family must be deported to the pce for indefinite internment,�� the soldier replied. ��As wards of the state, of course.��

    ��Of course,�� I replied with utter insincerity. ��But please do check, we have nothing to hide.��

    Soraseo stood stoically as the soldiers searched her, with a witchcrafter among the soldiers looking for any hint of essence maniption that could have altered her eyes�� coloration. My power did not leave any trace of essence, and sure enough, they didn��t find anything.

    ��I must say, the fog covering these shores is unnatural,�� I chatted with the official in an attempt to gather information. ��Our ship was attacked by a monstrous creature on its way to the port. We nearly sank.��

    ��I apologize on behalf of the state for these securitypses, honored visitor,�� the official replied with a curt bow. ��Unfortunately, His Majesty��s death has invited all manners of vermin to crawl out of the woodwork. Our new emperor��s own treacherous sister is fermenting a rebellion against his rule.��

    I��d spent enough time around Soraseo to tell when she struggled to keep a straight face. This news didn��t particrly surprise me, however.

    ��I see,�� I replied. ��Hence why my assistant invites your suspicion. You expect that the traitor will enter the capital in disguise?��

    ��The regent council has ordered the internment of every potential suspect and the immediate execution of any troublemakers.�� The official listened as the guards reported that Soraseo had passed their examination. ��Your assistant may enter our city so long as she remains with you. I ask that you reside in the Foreign Quarter for the entire duration of your stay. The sight of non-Shinkokans may invite confusion in the minds of our concerned citizens.��

    A rather polite way to tell me I could expect trouble if I walked around as a foreigner inside the capital city. I was starting to understand why most nations had frosty rtionships with the Shinkoku Empire.

    Nheless, we were allowed inside without further hassle. We passed through the tall gates and entered gray stone streets nked by houses of bricks and coal-fired y. Lanterns adorned the city intersections and provided a measure of light through the dense fog. Soraseo quickly took the lead to guide us through the city��s districts, and I worked to keep Mudkeep and our other horse on track as they pulled the wagon behind us. Our mounts were used to carrying<em>us</em>, not heavy cargo.

    ��I find it funny that we first met pretending to be a family,�� I told Marika. ��A merchant ought never to repeat his tricks, but this one hasn��t lost its luster.��

    ��We do look and act the part,�� Marika replied with amusement.

    ��What do I hear, handsome?�� Eris asked mirthfully. ��Did you and our dear Artisan have a secret tryst before we met?��

    ��We did build Ravengarde together,�� I replied with the same tone, which drew augh from Marika and a thin smile from Beni. Thetter had been in a sour mood since Erika��s disappearance, so I appreciated seeing him enjoy himself.

    Soraseo alone didn��t share our good mood. She kept looking around through the mist and while Icked her supernatural awareness of movements, I soon picked up on what bothered her. The streets were riddled with vagrants asking for food, I hardly saw any women around, and we swiftly passed in front of the gallows where a man had his head cut off. When I asked onlookers about what crime hemitted, they answered with sedition and conspiracy against the state.

    I could see which way the wind was blowing, and it was nowhere good.

    The Foreign Quarter, as per its name, mostly catered to foreign merchants and dignitaries. Its inns and houses showed signs of weathered disuse, with many of theirnterns extinguished. We rented rooms at a two-story ce called the Eel House, a stone��s throw away from the inn where Rubenzo��s group would stay after rejoining us. The owner, a middle-aged woman named Litanaka, warned us ahead of time that the price of meals had gone starkly up.

    ��Twenty silver for a bowl of beef soup is quite expensive,�� I said after checking the portions. I could have bought twice that amount for twelve silver back on the maind.

    ��Authorities collect a heavy rice tax to feed the army in these troubled times, which has caused spectors to hoard food,�� the innkeeper exined. ��All those young women being imprisoned in the pce do not inspire confidence in the future either. You won��t find many people willing to spend coin in the capital.��

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    I wasn��t so sure, but I thanked her for the advice nheless. I was in the process of paying her when I sensed Eris putting her hand on my shoulder.

    ��See the man on your right?�� She whispered in my ear. ��The one with the blue navy coat?��

    I peeked over my shoulder at the inn��s dinner hall. A golden-haired sailor drank at a table with a one-eyed woman and two other men with the dangerous edge of trained cutthroats, each of them boasting the dark skin shades of Fire Ind natives. The former wore a garish, feather-outfit that matched Eris�� description. I avoided his gaze when he turned his head to avoid being noticed.

    ��What of him?�� I whispered back.

    ��That��s Leon Seawind,�� Eris replied. ��He��s Neferoa��s personal helmsman.��

    My eyes widened slightly when the implications dawned on me. ��I thought she was on her way to the Spiral Maw?��

    ��Her fleet was when Ist checked on her,�� Eris rified. ��She may have stopped near the Shinkoku Empire to buy supplies.��

    ��Or negotiate an alliance with the new emperor,�� I countered. Irem and the Shinkoku Empire had always been at each other��s throats, with thetter having first colonized the Fire Inds before surrendering them to the former after a lengthy war. The two remained bitter rivals to this day.

    Yet in the current context, yesterday��s enemies could be today��s allies; especially since the Shinkoku was too overextended in Seukaia to reassert their rule over lost western colonies. If I were Neferoa, I would check out the new Shinkokan leadership and see if they were willing to assist in checking Irem��s power by supporting her Fire Inds independence movement.

    ��Mayhaps,�� Eris conceded. ��I will check on Neferoa. If she is indeed nearby, then she can assist us with Mount Kazandu.��

    I nodded in assent. The Shadow wouldn��t have revealed themselves if we didn��t have a chance of sabotaging Daltia��s ritual, so it<em>had</em>to be taking ce in this country.

    Was the Bard��s visit a coincidence? It felt a little too fortuitous to me for a stroke of luck, the same way I found it odd that over a third of all Heroes converged in Archfrost when Belgoroth was about to break out of his seal. Our marks subtly called out to each other in anticipation of future catastrophes.

    We regrouped in a room upstairs to go over the information we gathered with the others. Marika and Beni were already in the process of reassembling Ravengarde while Soraseo stood near the window, her eyes staring through the fog outside. Her concern was palpable.

    ��I know that expression,�� I told her. ��I had the same when I first returned to Snowdrift.��

    Soraseo nodded grimly. ��I do not like to see my people imprisoned because of me or starving in our streets.��

    ��Things sound bad around these parts,�� Marika added as she finished merging one of Ravengarde��s arms back with its chest. ��I��ve overheard people downstairs talking about disappearances inside the capital and caravan attacks outside the walls. The fog has everyone spooked too.��

    ��Did you notice any hint of a forming Blight?�� I inquired, with Marika shaking her head. ��Our enemies here are subtler than Belgoroth��s rowdy lot.��N?v(el)B\\jnn

    ��The fog grows thicker the closer we approach Mount Kazandu,�� Marika pointed out. ��I��d wager the Knots altered the local essence leylines protruding from it.��

    Eris sat on a bed and crossed her legs. ��Could they do it in secret?��

    ��No,�� Marika replied with confidence. ��A phenomenon capable of affecting an entire country��s weather would require multiple teams of witchcrafters operating in multiple key sites. This empire��s exorcists should have no trouble identifying them.��

    ��Which means that the Knots operate with at least partial government approval,�� I concluded. ��Do you know who might be responsible, Soraseo?��

    My friend crossed her arms and pondered my question for a while. She seemed anxious for a moment, as if considering a drastic step that she would rather avoid, before hardening her resolve.

    ��I cannot say yet, but I know someone who will help us,�� she finally said with eyes filled with purpose. ��I will need your help to contact him, Robin, if you will lend it to me.��

    ��Of course,�� I replied. ��What do you need?��

    ��A silver tongue.��

    I could have provided a golden one, but it was her wish.

    Litanaka was wrong. There<em>were</em>people willing to spend coins in this city; namely, the army.

    Contacting them proved easier than expected thanks to Soraseo��s guidance. I simply sent a missive to the forges in charge of outfitting soldiers and asked for an introduction, which they provided within the day. The Shinkoku Empire��s bureaucracy was as swift as it wasrge, at least when it came to military matters.

    Convincing various intermediaries to let me meet with the capital��s head quartermaster rather than lower-ranked officials took a lot more effort on my part, but I was long used to such arrangements. I bribed some, lied to a few, and insisted until I broke through stonewalling assistants with sweet words. I eventually arranged a meeting at the forges with the appropriate authorities.

    ��This fur is both waterproof and protects one from the cold,�� I exined to the man overseeing my wares, with Soraseo stoically and silently following me around like my shadow. ��Beastmen quality straight from the north, perfect for outfitting soldiers in the winter.��

    ��These are good, but certainly expensive,�� the head quartermaster replied after he finished reviewing my goods. ��How much for a set?��

    ��The mantles usually sell at thirty gold a piece in the Rivends, but I would be interested in trading them for runestones, especially wind and fire-charged ones.�� The<em>Colmar</em>would need both to fly again any time soon. ��Shinkokan runestones match those of Irem in quality, and I could earn a sizable markup back in the west.��

    The quartermaster pondered my proposal for a moment. ��ess to runestones is usually restricted to the military, but we do have arge unused surplus and your imperial seal affords you certain��<em>privileges</em>. I will agree to a trade if my direct superior allows it.��

    ��Lord Oboro, I presume?�� I asked off-handedly.

    This took the quartermaster aback. ��You know of him, Lord Darkshine?��

    ��I met him once back in Hwajing back when I supplied the Moonlight Riders on his behalf, though it has been many years,�� I lied through my teeth. I saw the man��s eyes lit up in recognition when I mentioned the mercenarypany; a detail so specific it redited my story. ��I could attend your meeting with him, to smooth the transfer over.��

    ��That could be arranged,�� the head quartermaster replied. ��I will request an audience to discuss your offer at the Pagoda of Steel tomorrow. You are wee toe argue your case in person.��

    ��I would be most thankful for this opportunity,�� I said with a deep bow. ��Could I ask that my assistant join us in the proceeding? She has yet much to learn about such trades.��

    The quartermaster shrugged his shoulders. ��I see no issue with it. I will send a messenger to pick you up at your inn tomorrow should the audience be confirmed.��

    Soraseo and I profusely thanked the man and then exited the army��s barracks without lingering. While I would rather see the sales go through to resupply the<em>Colmar</em>, arranging an audience with this Lord Oboro had been the goal all along.

    ��Are you certain he will help us?�� I asked Soraseo as we made our way outside. ��Exposing our true identity is a bold gamble.��

    ��My teacher is a good man,�� Soraseo replied with a deep breath. ��While he shall be angry with me, I cannot imagine he would ept our nation��s state of affairs nor tolerate the Knots�� actions. He will lend us his strength.��

    I could only pray that she was right. The Knots had subverted many good men, and I didn��t know enough about this Lord Oboro to tell whether he would be the exception.

    ��Why go through the quartermasters first instead of moremon channels though?�� I asked her. ��Wouldn��t your teacher have more straightforward ways to hear about emergencies?��

    ��My teacher likes to keep a close eye on our armies�� supplies,�� she replied. ��He used to teach me that logistics always trumped tactics. Even special channels would have taken multiple days. This one guarantees us a visit for tomorrow.��

    That was subtler and cleverer than I would have expected. I always saw Soraseo as utterly disinterested in matters of state and politics, but she navigated her country��s bureaucracy like a fish in the water. In spite of her hang-ups about assuming the throne, I had the intuition that she would prove to be an excellent empress if she ever did.

    We walked past iron gates and left the forges behind for the cooler, mist-clouded streets outside. Eris awaited us there while reading a missive. I leaned over her shoulder to check its content and immediately noticed a heavy perfumeing from it.

    ��<em>Moonlight in your eyes, a glow that outshines the night, lost I find my way; in autumn''s soft glow, whispers blend with falling leaves, hearts drift, then embrace</em>,�� I read out loud, a smile stretching on my face. ��You didn��t tell me you had a secret admirer.��

    ��Please, handsome, I receive love poems every day,�� she replied with a wink, although it was brief. ��Neferoa is indeed in the city, by the way, as is her shiftier vassal.��

    I immediately caught on. The Bard��s Vassals were the Dancer and the Spy; thetter of whom was busy infiltrating the Knots thest time Eris checked. These love poems had to be a coded message of some kind.

    I wondered how they had managed to identify us so quickly. Could they have been at the inn or among the soldiers who interrogated us earlier? I hadn��t sensed another Hero��s presence back then, but this would speak more of the Spy��s talent for stealth than anything else.

    ��What does it say?�� I inquired. ��Bad news, I would assume? We only seem to get those nowadays.��

    ��And you would be right, handsome,�� Eris replied with a grim scowl. ��Our friend believes that the prince is under the Devil of Greed��s sway. Chief Magistrate Kaolin is a demon in disguise, while the leaders of the Dragon Eyes secret police and the head witchcrafter are both Knot members.��

    Soraseo��s jaw clenched noticeably. ��I do not recognize this name. These people must have been appointed after my exile.��

    ��Or<em>because</em>of it,�� I guessed.

    ��Yes.�� Soraseo crossed her arms, her expression harshening. ��Those who supported me lost Father��s favor after my banishment. A demon was involved back then. More probably waited in the shadows for their turn.��

    I began to grasp the full sequence of events. Daltia had probably been infiltrating the Shinkoku Empire for years in anticipation for her grand ritual, using the empire��s wars of conquest as an opportunity to recruit new followers inside the military and government apparatus. Once the time was right, she then probably helped engineer Soraseo��s exile in order to force a purge of the country��s upper echelons and ce her pawns there, the same way she had Sebastian worm his way into the bed of Archfrost��s crown prince one crisis at a time.

    ��Those threeprise a third of the council of regents,�� Eris said. ��If the Knots have infiltrated the upper echelons of your government, then we must assume that they have eyes and ears everywhere.��

    ��The head witchcrafter being subverted would exin why no one does anything about the fog,�� I added while rubbing my chin. I recognized the pattern already. ��This is Walbourg and Snowdrift all over again.��

    ��You��re wrong, Robin, this is far worse.�� Eris set aside the letter, her expression forlorn. ��The fog ritual draws upon the entire country��s essence. I thought it was only meant to dy us, but now I wonder if it is only the first step in the crown��s forging.��

    It made an unfortunate amount of sense. Forging an Artifact would likely require an<em>immense</em>amount of essence on top of the souls Daltia gathered for her purpose.

    ��We��re running out of time,�� I said. ��We need to gather all our allies and storm Mount Kazandu as soon as we can.��

    Eris nodded sharply. ��I will contact Neferoa and arrange a meeting at the inn. Rubenzo and the others should arrive some time soon, which should help us bolster our forces.��

    ��My teacher can arrange for us to ess the mountain without opposition,�� Soraseo added. ��We will be like a dagger striking in the heart of evil.��

    I considered our options. Should they fail to secure enough runestones to fuel the<em>Colmar</em>, I could always reconvert the Soundstones I��d left. They contained enough wind essence to fuel the ship, and they served no purpose sitting in a chest. I supposed I could keep a few to record Neferoa��s singing for posterity. Songs recorded by the Bard would sell quite a lot��

    Wait.

    Recording the Bard��s songs��

    An idea crossed my mind, as devious as it was ambitious. Essence was shaped by the will and emotions of people, which the Devil of Greed intended to harness and which the Bard could influence. A nagging possibility upied my thoughts, one which I had to test out.

    If we yed our cards right�� and if I had time to test my theory��

    Then we would be prepared should the worste to pass.

 Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Masquerade

    Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Masquerade

    Soraseo once told me that Shinkokan officials were always on time, because wasting it was seen as a most egregious offense.

    Hence I began to wonder what was going on as Soraseo and I waited alongside the quartermaster in a serene waiting hall. The paintings of tranquil nature scenes and the flower arrangements on the walls stood in stark contrast with the rest of this iron-forged city; as did the silence. The room upied a spot in a nine-tiered pagoda serving as a headquarters for the Shinkokan armed forces, with windows giving us an eerily beautiful view of the city covered in mist. I could have sworn that thetter was growing thicker with each passing day.

    I wondered how much time we had left, but I already knew the answer to that:<em>not enough</em>.

    I exchanged a nce with Soraseo as we sat on small cushions around a low table. From her expression, her teacher��steness was highly unusual. Our teas had gone cold in their cups.

    ��I deeply apologize,�� the quartermaster said, his hand wiping sweat off his brow. ��Lord Oboro must be facing an unforeseen emergency.��

    ��No offense taken,�� I replied. I had my own suspicions as to what upied Lord Oboro��s attention.

    Mirokald had made his way to Mount Kazandu, as he promised he would. He reported a great deal of demonic activity around the mountain alongsiderge movements of runestones and soldiers into tunnels leading into its stony depths. He was confident the crown��s forging ritual hadn��t started yet, but the site was too well-protected for him to attack or infiltrate on his own without support.

    The hall��s door slid open before I could mull over that question any further. A middle-aged man with graying hair and eyes walked inside with two soldiers at his back; I assumed him to be Lord Oboro. His white robes marked him as a member of the highest nobility, although he carried himself with a kind of austere detachment I would expect from a retired warrior, his annoyed expression betraying his frustration.

    This meeting was already off to a terrible start.

    ��My apologies for forcing you to wait,�� Lord Oboro said as he gave us a curt, rigid bow and sat in front of us from across the table. ��A troubling matter required my immediate attention.��

    ��No harm taken, Lord Oboro,�� I replied. ��I��d already assumed a great issue upied your mind. I more than remember your impable sense of punctuality from our days on the frontline.��

    ��I struggle to believe you. I never forget a face, and I do not remember ever seeing yours, nor that of���� Lord Oboro squinted at Soraseo. ��Companion����

    Soraseo held her teacher��s gaze, and while her face and eyes had changed, I could immediately tell that he somehow recognized her. Something about her bodynguage betrayed her true identity perhaps, or they had exchanged a secret signal I didn��t pick up on. Whatever the case, a tense silence followed which none dared to interrupt.

    The quartermaster straightened up on his cushion, sweat falling off his forehead. I myself watched the scene without a word. I could almost see the gears turning inside this Oboro��s head as he considered turning Soraseo over to her brother, then reconsidered. He seemed to reach a decision after a moment, and I held my breath as he turned to look at his aides.

    ��Leave me alone with these foreigners,�� Lord Oboro ordered his guards and the quartermaster. ��All of you. I shall not stand any interruptions.��

    The quartermaster and soldiers did not question the order and bolted off into the hall, leaving the three of us alone. Lord Oboro and Soraseo both stared at the door for a moment to confirm no one was eavesdropping, then returned to staring at each other. I could almost taste the tension in the air.

    My friend joined her hands and bowed slightly. ��It is good to see you again, my teacher.��

    ��I cannot say the same,�� the man replied bluntly. ��What trickery is this, princess? Why do you stand in my presence wearing such an borate disguise?��

    Soraseo removed the headband covering her forehead without hesitation, revealing her mark. Lord Oboro��s eyes widened in shock and surprise upon seeing the symbol of the Monk glowing on his former student��s skin, his face turning to me next. Unlike my fellow Hero, I did not unveil my own ss in response. I didn��t trust this man with any information except with what was strictly necessary.

    ��So it is true���� Lord Oboro muttered to himself while stroking his bear. ��His Majesty��s spies sent reports that his daughter had gained the Monk ss. I could scarcely believe it myself.��

    ��Neither did I, my teacher,�� Soraseo replied humbly. ��Ie to you as a Hero, not a princess of the Shinkoku.��

    ��I see. I assume yourpanion must be the Merchant then? Reports said that the two of you traveled together.��

    ��Who can say?�� I replied without confirming or denying his allegations. It was better to leave him wondering. ��I suspect you have an idea of why wee to you today, Lord Oboro.��

    ��Yes, I can assume. Your brother listens to Chief Magistrate Kaolin, who has filled his head with tales of his sister plotting to have him assassinated.�� He narrowed his eyes at Soraseo. ��Is this correct, Princess?��

    ��Of course not,�� Soraseo replied with cold anger. ��I have no desire to spill Doggotaro��s blood.��

    Lord Oboro scoffed. ��Your mother probably thought the same, and yet she rots in a grave.

    ��Her mother forgave her, Lord Oboro,�� I replied icily before presenting him with my soundstone on Soraseo��s behalf. I immediately activated it. ��These are the empress�� words, straight from the Deadgate.��

    The sound of thete empress�� voice caused Soraseo no end of mncholia, and drew a startled blink from Lord Oboro. He listened to the recording in silence until its end, then proceeded to grab the soundstone and examine it closely.

    ��A tall tale, and one that means little in our current circumstances,�� Lord Oboro dered upon returning the soundstone to me. ��Your brother and his regents would not forgive you even with this proof, Princess Mizukiya. They would call it a clever forgery and have you executed on the spot for viting the terms of your exile, if they were to bother with an excuse at all. Your brother has lived in fear of your return since your departure.��

    Soraseo��s expression turned forlorn, but she steadied her back nheless. ��I have good reason to believe that some of my brother��s advisors are demons in disguise, or allied with them. Evil is afoot in our country. The fog outside shows so.��

    Lord Oboro stroked his beard thoughtfully. ��Witchcrafter Fensaru told me that this misty ritual is meant to disperse Mount Kazandu��s gathered essence in order to avert an eruption. I never quite believed it,�� he admitted. ��The fate of all those poor women worries me too. The Chief Magistrate arrested hundreds of them, and they are to be transported to Mount Kazandu tomorrow.��

    My fists clenched into fists as I dared to ask for details. ��For what purpose?��

    ��All I know is that our new emperor must oversee a ceremony there, which bothers me greatly,�� Lord Oboro replied. ��Our people can tolerate many things, but such unexined, arbitrary decisions will only foster chaos and turmoil.��

    Soraseo clenched her jaw. She and I knew very well that demons wouldn��t gather hundreds of people at the mountain for innocent purposes. In all likelihood, they would serve as sacrifices. The threat the ritual presented to her brother also hardened her determination to end it all.

    ��Blood will spill, my teacher,�� Soraseo implored. ��A great cmity will soon be unleashed from Mount Kazandu. You must assist us in preventing it. My brother��s life may be at risk.��

    Lord Oboro studied her for a moment, then slowly nodded to himself. ��You would not risk returning here if necessity did bind you, Princess. What cmity do you think will befall us?��

    ��A Blight of colossal proportions,�� I lied before Soraseo could answer. I had no desire to see an imperialist regime develop an interest in a potential Artifact. Elements among the Shinkoku Empire might be tempted toplete Daltia��s n if only to secure her wicked crown for themselves. ��One that would nket your entire nation. The fog is merely the beginning.��

    Lord Oboro looked at me with heavy skepticism. ��Is that so?��

    ��That is what demons do, my teacher,�� Soraseo dered, going along with the lie. It warmed my heart that she trusted me more than this man. ��They spread evil that can never be cleansed, and our nation is built on so many sins.��

    ��True.�� Lord Oboro considered his former student��s words before taking a long, deep breath. ��Very well. I shall insist on attending the ceremony at Mount Kazandu, whatever its nature, and I will not be denied. You and your allies may hide among my guards.��

    Soraseo smiled in relief, though I noticed it did not reach her eyes. ��Thank you, my teacher,�� she said with a bow of gratitude. ��I shall prove worthy of your trust.��

    ��I give you a<em>chance</em>, not my<em>trust</em>,�� Lord Oboro warned her. ��Beware that should this story of yours be a trick, then I shall cut you down myself.��

    That was still more help than we expected to receive. ��We also require runestones, especially those infused with wind and fire essence for our ship,�� I said. ��We came here to trade them against furs, among other things.��

    ��A ship?�� Lord Oboro scoffed. ��If the name does not make it obvious enough, Mount Kazandu is a<em>mountain</em>. What good would a ship be?��

    ��Plenty,�� I insisted. ��All I can promise you is that our enemies will never see iting.��

    ��You do ask for much without giving details in return, but I suppose it is the Merchant��s way,�� Lord Oboro said sternly. He was sharp, I had to give him that. ��Very well. I shall see what I can do.��

    ��Thank you,�� I replied with gratitude. I was pleasantly surprised. After so much trouble, I appreciated recruiting a new and reasonable ally. ��Your generosity shall be returned tenfold.��

    I thought we had mostly finished when Soraseo cleared her throat. ��Might I ask what caused your dy, my teacher?�� she asked. ��Any information may prove crucial.��

    Lord Oboro marked a short pause, as if her mere question insulted his honor, before relenting after some consideration. ��I have recently suffered from a most brazen robbery. A mask of adamantine confiscated from Seukaia was stolen this very morning.��

    Soraseo��s eyes widened in recognition. ��The one our army stole from the Firehand Sect?��

    ��The very same one,�� her teacher confirmed with a scowl. ��One of my own servants, who had served me loyally for over a decade, has stolen a relic from the reserve. I cannot exin what madness seized him, nor can my men locate this thief. It is as if he disappeared into thin air.��

    ��Or transformed into someone else,�� I replied. A mask of adamantine�� A worrying possibility soon wormed its way into my mind. ��Was it<em>soulforged</em>adamantine?��

    ��I cannot say,�� Lord Oboro replied with a frown. ��What difference would it make?��

    ��A big one.�� I quickly guessed the thief��s likely identity and the reason behind the robbery. ��<em>��I have to reunite with my face����</em>��

    What better symbol for a faceless monster than a mask which to hide behind? Belgoroth had his sword and Daltia her coins, but the first Rogue bound their existence to the face they had long discarded. I couldn��t fathom how many people passed that cursed item around without ever realizing its true significance.

    The Shadow had regained ess to their soulforged item.

    Lord Oboro proved as good as his word. His men provided us with enough runestones to refuel the<em>Colmar</em>, and uniforms for a small group of us to infiltrate Mount Kazandu��s ritual. We couldn��t send many of us, as Daltia��s fiends would grow suspicious of toorge a group, but a small task force could gain entry into the mountain. With Mirokald leading another team and a third striking from above with the airship, we couldunch a three-pronged attack on the demons�� army, interrupt the ritual, and rescue the hostages.

    Hopefully. Soraseo did voice certain concerns that we would have to address when considering our final line-up. My friends trusted me with the final say in how to organize the various teams; a position which I epted dutifully.

    It felt both endearing to have so many confident people looking up to my leadership, and crushing. The lives of my friends and the fate of the world might rest on my decisions today.

    I held no illusion about the risks associated with our mission. Our shes with Belgoroth had cost us the previous Cavalier, Colmar, and nearly led to all of our deaths; and while he had been monstrously strong, we were about to confront<em>two</em>of his Demon Ancestors colleagues.

    Even with the best preparations, I expected casualties.

    I would do everything in my power to ensure everyone walked out of this battle safely, but I would be lying if I said I didn��t feel any pressure. That was why I decided to take Eris on a final date tonight, both to take my mind off things and organize with ourst remaining allies. From the look on her face, my lover probably felt the same way.

    From what I��d heard, the Silken Brass was the most popr entertainment house in the Foreign District. I easily identified it from theyered brass tes on the roof which gave it its name. Popr singers, dancers, and conversationalists gathered there to entertain guests eager to y games of chance or simply rx. Its blend of ss, money, and exoticism reminded me of Hermeline��s House of Gold where my journey as the Merchant first began.

    ��This is the ce,�� I said as I approached the entrance with Eris�� arm around mine. ��I rented two seats for tonight��s show.��

    ��All for us?�� Eris teased me, her heavy frown softening a bit. ��What will your wife and son say upon hearing you��ve been frolicking around with your maid? You risk a divorce taking me out for dinner.��

    ��What kind of backstabbing merchant doesn��t have a mistress on the side?�� I joked back. ��Besides, they have their hands full with our other child.��

    ��Young Ravengarde?�� Eris raised an eyebrow. ��What mischief has our new golem been up to?��

    ��Beni caught him reading his study book,�� I replied. ��It seems to have grown curious.��

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ��Interesting. I suppose teaching a golem will be a first in the history of mankind.��

    ��That��s the thing,�� I replied. ��I didn��t give Ravengarde that ability yet.��

    The implications finally dawned upon Eris. ��It developed that skill on its own?��

    ��Yes, it did.�� It taught me a valuable lesson: that once consciousness began to emerge, an artificial creature<em>immediately</em>started acting outside its original parameters. A new mind yearned to expand, to explore new possibilities, to<em>learn</em>. ��A detail that wille in handy for our countery.��

    ��Do not give me the details,�� Eris said immediately. ��I do not know yet how much my other self can perceive.��

    ��Is that what��s troubling you?�� I asked. ��You look more concerned than usual.��

    ��Does it show that much?�� Eris looked up to the stars shining through the mist. ��I have met with Selestine, both to confess myself and ask for her wisdom. She consulted with the Artifacts on my other self��s n, and for the first time in many centuries, they all reached amon agreement.��

    My heart skipped a beat. Thest time the Artifacts agreed on anything, it resulted in our sses�� creation.

    ��If we fail to prevent the crown��s forging for any reason�� they will be forced to intervene,�� Eris said with a forlorn look. ��The threat of a Demon Ancestor using a fifth Artifact to alter reality itself is simply too great for them to ignore.��

    ��From your expression, I would assume this isn��t good news for us.��

    ��No, it is not. The Artifacts are forces of nature, great and terrible, ideals entrusted with safekeeping the Goddess�� creation. The lives of individuals mean little against the safety of the world for them.�� Eris shook her head. ��At best, they will destroy the crown and the Shinkoku Empire in the ensuing cataclysm. At worst, they will fail with the former and seed with thetter.��

    My jaw clenched. I already knew that Pangeal would be doomed should Daltia have her way, and while part of me appreciated that the Four Artifacts would at least try to step in should the worste to pass, the threat of the Shinkoku Empire being wiped off the map didn��t reassure me in the slightest.

    ��You me yourself,�� I guessed. No wonder Eris looked so forlorn.

    ��Of course I do. This Artifact n is something I conceptualized centuries ago. Every evil we have fought can be traced back to<em>my</em>mistakes.�� Eris took a deep breath. ��I have spent so many years running away from my sins, and now, I cannot do it anymore.��

    I sensed her concern and remorse in the way she touched my arm, so I tightened my grip on it. I��d always perceived the deep sorrow which Eris hid behind her false smiles and teasing; a deep abyss of grief and torment dug over many centuries. The best I could do was offer her somefort.

    ��I��ve been giving some thought to our marks, and I believe I have noticed amon thread,�� I said. ��What do you think our sses look for in someone? The thing we all have inmon?��

    Eris pondered my question for a while before answering. ��Guilt,�� she said softly. ��I would say guilt.��

    ��Yes,�� I confirmed. ��Colmar, Mersie, Corty, Chronius, Soraseo�� the marks always seem to pick people with the capacity for<em>remorse</em>, because it inspires them to<em>change</em>. Something which the first generationcked, yourself excepted.��

    I had no way to confirm my theory, but it sounded the most usible to me. Lady Alexios told us that the first Fatebinder assisted the Artifacts in creating a new set of marks whose holders wouldn��t repeat the mistakes of our predecessors. The ability to feel guilt and the desire to atone, to have the will to change, was the one thing the likes of Belgorothcked. They saw faults in everyone except themselves.

    Rubenzo��s crusade against corrupt nobility struck me as a quest inspired by something in his past, as did Mirokald��s desire to improve his homnd the same way I felt a duty to help mine. All of us had at least faced an incident that convinced us to fight for the weak without exception.

    ��Is that meant tofort me?�� Eris replied. ��Feeling bad for evil deeds does not make them go away, handsome.��

    ��No,�� I conceded. ��But the Wanderer��s mark wouldn��t have chosen you if you didn��t have the opportunity to turn things around.��

    Eris smiled sadly. ��Do you truly believe that, Robin?��

    ��Yes,�� I replied without hesitation.

    ��Then you believe in me more than I believe in myself.�� She leaned her head against my shoulder until I sensed her warmth through my clothes. ��Thank you still. I appreciate your kind words.��

    She didn��t entirely believe me, but I could tell my words had helped a little.

    We walked into the Silken Brass and were soon guided by a young woman in a flowered dress��a courtesan in training, I would assume��into a theater room. Rows of sitting cushions and tables were set in front of an ornate and elevated stage. The smell of freshcquer rose from the polished wooden floor, while incense burned in the corners.

    The room was almost entirely full when we arrived, with each table upied by rowdy men and women from the Fire Inds. A few of them were located in separate alcoves that afforded a measure of privacy. I noticed a balding, elderly man in one of them beckoning us to join him and his own date, an elegant woman with long silver hair, a crimson sailor��s ck tunic, and a golden ne around her neck. She had a wild beauty about her, though her fierce red eyes appraised Eris and me with the wariness of a lion on the hunt. I sensed that feeling of familiarity that marked her as a Hero, at which point her expression softened slightly.

    ��Come here, strangers!�� the balding man said with a<em>very</em>familiar voice. ��We have a few ces here!��

    I had to give it to Rubenzo, he had nothing to envy about his predecessor when it came to disguising himself. The woman next to him had to be the infamous Neferoa, a notorious pirate queen and the current Bard.

    ��Thank you, kind stranger,�� I said upon following through with his proposal. Eris and I sat around the table to join the two. I immediately noticed that this alcove shielded us from the noise of the crowd. A quick use of my essence sight confirmed that the walls hosted specific wards in them meant to filter out sounds that didn��te from the stage itself. ��I hope you had a pleasant journey to this beautiful country.��

    ��We had to cut down a few bandits on our way to the capital, but it was still a calmer trip than yours from what I gathered,�� Rubenzo replied before grabbing a cup of alcohol. ��Help yourself, mate.��

    ��Fair warning, their drinks are<em>shit</em>,�� Neferoa said, her voice a bit deeper than I would have expected from, well, a Bard. ��You��d need a hundred to get drunk on them. And you��reying on the ent too thick, Rube.��

    ��Truly?�� Rubenzo replied, his voice growing slightly higher pitched. ��To be scolded by the Bard is the highest of honors for an actor.��

    ��You��re awfully confident in organizing this meeting in a public ce,�� I noted. ��I assume everyone here works for you, spectators and staff included?��

    ��Quite sharp, Merchant,�� Neferoa said with confidence. ��I��ve got friends in every port.��

    ��Including the Shinkoku,�� I said while tasting our drink. It was some sort of alcoholic beverage, but as Neferoa warned, I could hardly feel its taste on my tongue. ��Let me guess, you��ve been cultivating foreign allies against Irem here long before you gained your mark?��

    ��One cannot change the world on their own.�� Neferoa��s eyes darted from Rubenzo to me. ��Unlike the likes of the Knight, the three of us need friends to win our battles.��

    That was true, I supposed. The Rogue, Bard, and Merchant sses all required the assistance of others to truly shine; whether willingly or not.

    ��Well, it is a pleasure to meet you in any case,�� I told Neferoa before exposing my mark and offering my hand to shake. ��Your exploits have reached as far as the Rivend Federation.��

    ��So have yours, Robin Waybright,�� Neferoa retorted upon epting the handshake with a firm grip. She grabbed her cor and unveiled a golden harp mark boasting the Erebian number for six. ��Word is that your lot bested the Lord of Wrath himself.��

    ��The Knight owns the lion��s share of that one,�� I replied. ��Can you show me your power?<em>Try</em>me?��

    ��Daring, aren��t we?�� A flicker of amusement passed in the Bard��s eyes. ��<em>Give me your cup</em>.��

    Her words entered my skull through my ears like worms and dug their way deep into my mind. All my thoughts and questions vanished in an instant, reced with an overwhelming urge to listen, to<em>obey</em>. Its effect reminded me of Cortaner��s power, but broader,<em>stronger</em>.

    Yet having already braved many Blights and the Inquisitor��s power, I managed to anchor myself for a moment. My hand gripped the cup with all of my strength, every inch of my being struggling against an invisible force. My very arm rebelled against the brain guiding it in a way that strained my muscles and filled me with an overwhelming sensation of sickness.

    But all of the willpower in the world couldn��tpare to a divine power. When my mind cleared of Neferoa��smand, my cup had found its way to her hand.

    It wasn��t alone either. Rubenzo and Eris alike had surrendered their own beverages, but the people in the next alcove hadn��t moved an inch. The soundproofing essence wards had protected them. This implied that the Bard��s power could affect<em>anyone</em>who heard her voice unless she specified the target.

    ��Impressive,�� I said.<em>This might just work��</em>��Is that why you felt secure enough to organize this meeting?��

    ��Any order I give must be carried out, including orders for spies and assassins to reveal their true identities,�� Neferoa exined with a smirk as she sipped from my own cup in a tant power move. She must have interrogated everyone in this room to ensure neither the Shadow nor any Knots�� members would be among them. ��I must say, Robin, you resisted longer than anybody else I��ve encountered. I can see why Eris fell so hard for you.��

    ��He does have a certain charm,�� Eris replied upon recovering her drink.

    ��Did I mishear?�� Rubenzo gasped and put a hand on his chest. ��Did he even beat my record?��

    ��You��re second-best,�� Neferoa confirmed before sipping from his cup and returning it empty. ��Better luck next time.��

    ��I won��t settle for a supporting role,�� Rubenzo swore. ��Please, mistress, order me around until I gain the will to resist you!��

    Eris smiled mischievously. ��Are the two of you rehearsing in private yet?��

    ��Not yet, gal, but give it time,�� Neferoa replied with a wink. ��Still missing our quality time since you went exclusive, by the way.��

    ��Sorry, my uses are airtight,�� I joked back. ��What of your power? Would it have failed if we spoke different tongues?��

    ��Seeking an advantage already? You truly live up to your ss.�� Neferoa shook her head. ��Would you reveal a weakness about your power in exchange for that information?��

    ��Of course,�� I replied without hesitation. ��We are on the same team.��

    ��I��m not so sure.�� Neferoa scowled in disdain. ��One of my Vassal sses is fighting for Irem. Our marks bind us to fight demons, but they cannot erase old loyalties.��

    ��Then let me give you a show of trust,�� I dered boldly. ��My power requires a target��s consent and I cannot sell what I do not own, though they do not need to understand what they agree to.��

    ��Interesting���� Neferoa appraised me for a moment, as if considering whether or not to follow through with her end of the bargain, before relenting. ��Your intuition was correct, Merchant. My power requires the target to<em>understand</em>my order. Amonnguage is required and the more precise the order, the better. Vague instructions are too easy to fulfill.��

    So the message would have to be recorded in Shinkokan�� if the power carried through the voice itself and not the speaker, that was��

    Rubenzo guessed my n first. ��You��re thinking of using the soundstones, aren��t you? The idea crossed my mind too.��

    ��Rube told me about them,�� Neferoa said. ��I admit I��m interested. If those devices can carry the sound of my voice, then it opens up new and exciting opportunities.��

    I nodded gravely. ��I only have a limited supply avable, but we could ce them in critical spots with Eris�� help.��

    ��Oh? Am I ying courier again?�� Eris leaned on my side. ��What do you have in mind, handsome?��

    ��We��ll need to test out the soundstone theory first, but it could prove to be our ace in the hole against the Devil of Greed,�� I replied, albeit with some reservation. ��I have faith in my idea, though it��ll carry a great deal of risks.��

    ��All your luminous ideas do, handsome, and yet we stand here because of them,�� Eris reassured me.

    ��What of my esteemed and elusive predecessor?�� Rubenzo asked. ��Any leads on their whereabouts and intentions? Our dear Archer has been fuming since he learned about his daughter��s fate. It took all of my charm to convince him to stay put until we figured out a n of action.��

    A good call. I strongly suspected the Shadow partly targeted Erika to use her as a hostage against Chronius once the time came.

    ��We have unfortunately few leads on the Shadow,�� I said. ��And grave news to report."

    I proceeded to recount the mask��s theft to my allies while Rubenzo��s troupe took their ce on the stage. They had quickly adapted to Shinkokan theater��s customs, wearing masks and painted faces to y spirits and demons. I quickly recognized Mersie ying a young maid among them. She seemed to enjoy the role, even smiling once our gazes crossed. I wondered if she even recognized me in spite of my borrowed face.

    I guessed some people could simply see the hidden soul behind our masks.

    Rubenzo took the news much better than expected, his face morphing into a triumphant expression. ��<em>Marvelous</em>. Simply marvelous!��

    ��Marvelous?�� I repeated, his carefree joy taking me aback. ��Our enemy has recovered the source of their immortality, and they could be anywhere or<em>anyone</em>.��

    ��Robin, Robin, don��t you see? This is the Shadow of<em>Envy</em>.�� Rubenzo grinned wickedly. ��We Rogues? We Rogues are<em>hoarders</em>. Now that they have recovered their lost soul, my illustrious predecessor won��t relinquish it,<em>ever</em>. They��ll keep it on themselves at all times.��

    Neferoa chuckled. ��A worthy prize to steal. I��m almost tempted to join in the hunt myself.��

    ��It won��t do any good,�� I pointed out. ��Our marks won��t let us affect souls, and the Shadow��s own spirit is bound to their mask.��

    ��I would not steal that one in a million years,�� Rubenzo reassured me, but only for the time it took him to exin his insane idea. ��It is the<em>connection</em>which I seek, the conduit to all the world��s jealousy and envy.��

    My eyes widened in shock. ��That��s<em>suicide</em>.��

    ��It worked with the Lord of Wrath, did it not?�� Rubenzo countered.

    ��Yes, because Rnd��s power granted him ownership of Belgoroth��s sword and let me seal it in a breakable object,�� I replied. ��As far as my power is concerned, you do not own anything that you steal. The moment you try to sell the connection to me, it will immediately return to its original proprietary.��

    ��See, my friend, that��s where I think you��re wrong,�� Rubenzo countered. ��Indulge me for a while. Will you buy from me the magnificent ruby dagger in my drawer upstairs for a copper?��

    I frowned in skepticism. Had he found another loophole in how our powers interacted? ��Very well.��

    To my utter surprise, I felt my mark reacting to the trade. My purse grew lighter, and I found myself staring at a splendid dagger of carved ruby sitting on the table. I looked at it in astonishment, my mind furiously trying to understand what happened.

    Eris proved more direct. ��How did you achieve this, Ruby?��

    ��Simple,�� Rubenzo replied, with Eris�� wordy drawing a smirk from him. ��I killed the previous owner in an unfair duel.��

    My heart skipped a beat as the implications hit me in the face. ��Nobody left to im the fenced goods���� I muttered. So deceptively simple. ��That could work����

    ��I��m not sure I follow,�� Neferoa said.

    ��If I stole something from a person who dies afterwards, ownership reverts to me since there��s no one left alive to contest my im,�� Rubenzo exined. ��If the essence connection is what grants our foe their immortality and we y them before they can recover their lost goods...��

    Eris�� jaw clenched. ��Ruby, do you understand that if we follow through with your n,<em>all</em>of mankind��s worth of jealousy, envy, and resentment will flow directly through<em>you</em>?��

    ��Soulforged objects can handle that strain because they are near-indestructible, but you��re still human,�� I warned Rubenzo. ��Channeling that much negative essence may kill you within minutes, if not seconds. Not to mention the risk that your mark will kill you before it risks being corrupted.��

    ��Then we��ll have to act fast.�� Rubenzo didn��t look frightened in the slightest. ��What can I say, my friend? Risk big, win big. We won��t prevail without putting our lives on the line. If it worked against the Lord of Wrath, why should my illustrious ancestor be immune?��

    ��It<em>could</em>work,�� I conceded. Albeit we killed Belgoroth<em>before</em>we split the wrath from his sword. ��However, stripping the Shadow of their immortality will only make them vulnerable for a time. If our allies can��t kill them in time, then the flow of essence will return to them and restore their immortality. You will also need to make physical contact, and since the Shadow can kill with a touch, if you fail to take them by surprise or botch the timing�C��

    ��Botch the timing?<em>Me</em>?�� Rubenzoughed in my face. ��I run a theater troupe, my dear! Sticking to the script andnding the timing is an art form to me!��n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

    ��Shamshir will be easier to kill than Belgoroth at least,�� Eris muttered under her breath. ��Much frailer.��

    ��Frailer?�� I asked. What a strange turn of phrase. ��What makes you say that?��

    ��Think about it, handsome.�� Eris snapped her fingers. ��Belgoroth easily survived a huge fall and fought without concern for his safety because his wounds healed in an instant, and yet�C��

    ��And yet the Shadow felt the need to use a jumping bag rather than simply fall,�� I finished at the same time she did. What a brilliant observation. ��Their form of immortality either does not allow them to recover from damage quickly, ores at a cost they aren��t willing to pay if they can help it.��

    If Rubenzo could strip the Shadow of their immortality long enough for us to kill them, then he could trade the essence connection to me the same way Rnd sold me all the wrath in the world. We could then seal it in a harmless item and put an end to the Demon Ancestor.

    <em>If.</em>The same n had cost us Colmar��s life when we pulled it against Belgoroth, and his colleague would likely fight to the bitter end.

    ��You are taking this far too cheerfully,�� I warned Rubenzo. ��A Demon Ancestor is no small-time fiend. Any mistake we make will result in our deaths.��

    ��And I have already rehearsed myst words!�� Rubenzo scoffed and crossed his legs. ��Did you mistake me for the Knight, my friend? I do not fight Lady Death, I mock her.��

    ��Would you rather that I give a grave speech about the dire danger we��re in?�� Neferoa replied with a shrug. ��The truth is, Merchant, is that we��ve all faced our share of horrors to reach this moment.��

    ��None of them will match the Demon Ancestors,�� I pointed out. The memory of Belgoroth��s overwhelming power still haunted me.

    ��Our marks wouldn��t have chosen us if we weren��t ready to cross that bridge,�� Neferoa pointed out; something to which I had no answer. ��Once the timees, we��ll stand our ground.��

    ��And wouldn��t it be poetic for the newest Rogue to defeat the first?�� Rubenzo asked without expecting an answer. ��The way I see it, a y has toe full circle to reach a satisfying conclusion, the same way our new Knight put an end to his infamous predecessor. If my life is the price to pay, then I will dly wager it.��

    Full circle�� The more I pondered my friend��s words, the more I saw the wisdom in them. Daltia had created the Demon Ancestors by abusing the Merchant��s power, and it was that very same ability that made Belgoroth��s defeat possible. The same tools that brought the world to the brink of destruction could be used to save it.

    I exchanged a nce with Eris, and immediately knew that the same thought had crossed both of our minds.

    We would put an end to the first Merchant��s legacy, one way or another.

    ��How do<em>I</em>factor into that grand n of yours?�� Neferoa wondered. ��If you indeed want to conclude this y, then I expect a leading role.��

    ��If you are on an official visit, then the Knots already have you under surveince and will act immediately the moment you leave the city,�� I countered. ��It is your voice we need more than your presence.��

    Neferoa scoffed in amusement. ��How far must it carry before you are satisfied, Merchant?��

    ��If I have my way���� I smiled ear to ear. ��<em>Everywhere</em>.��

 Chapter Fifty-Nine: Gilded Shadow

    Chapter Fifty-Nine: Gilded Shadow

    Thest battle was upon us.

    True to his word, Lord Oboro delivered us the runestones for the<em>Colmar</em>and disguises for our infiltrators. Soraseo, Rubenzo, and Mersie had gone with him to infiltrate the ceremony through the front door, while Chronius had been assigned to help Mirokald attack it from another angle. Neferoa would remain in the capital for the sake of distracting the Knots and in preparation for my backup n, while Eris distributed our prepared soundstones across the entire Shinkoku Empire. Only the Spy remained unounted for, though I had taken steps to identify and support them. I trusted them to pull through in our favor at the right time.

    Which left Marika, Beni, Ravengarde, and I to run our airship. We double-checked the provided runestones at my request, confirmed the absence of sabotage��on that front at least��and then set sail into the mistden skies.

    I found myself in the same situation I��d been in back when we marshaled together to fight Belgoroth: loading runestones into cannons in the artillery room and readying them for battle. Beni and Ravengarde were nowhere near as talkative as Cortaner and Colmar had been, but they worked hard enough topensate.

    ��Can you see the way forward?�� I asked Marika through the room��s loudspeakers. The world beyond our portholes looked like an imprable ocean of mist.

    <em>��Barely,��</em>Marika replied, her voice carrying through the rooms.<em>��Seo��s map helps, but the fog is getting thicker by the second. The essence is condensing.��</em>

    I could feel it in the air too. Anxiety, fear, doubts�� The mist exacerbated and absorbed those emotions before ferrying them back to Mount Kazandu. It was almost suffocating.

    Did Daltia intend to temper her wicked Artifact with the terror of men? Wouldn��t the raw desires of the demonic souls caught in her Devil Coins be enough?

    Whatever the case, we could expect a weingmittee once we approached the mountain.

    ��Beni,�� I said with a hand on my fellow Hero��s shoulder; a wise boy whom I hade to consider like a little brother to me. ��Demons will soon try to board our ship. Climb inside Ravengarde and don��te out unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand?��

    ��Y-yes,�� he replied with more bravery than most children his age could manage, his voice hoarse yet steady. ��I��ll�� do my best.��

    ��I know you will,�� I replied with a smile. ��And so does your mother.��

    <em>��I do,��</em>Marika said, her voice wavering with anxiety through the loudspeaker.<em>��Beni�� promise me that you will stick to repairs and run at the first sign of danger. Uncle Robin will take care of the bad guys.��</em>

    Beni bit his lower lip and nodded, though I noticed he didn��t promise anything out loud. Ravengarde opened its backpartment to let him climb inside.

    Eris appeared inside the artillery room immediately after in a puff of smoke, her once soundstone-filled bag empty.

    ��Deliverypleted and on time,�� Eris boasted proudly. ��We at Arcane Abbey Deliveries hope you��ll be satisfied with our service!��

    ��Why do you think you keep having repeat customers?�� I teased her back, though jokes hardly helped alleviate the tension in my heart. The die was cast.

    ��I wonder what you have in mind, handsome,�� Eris replied. Neferoa and I had recorded the soundstones�� contents in secret specifically to avoid Daltia eavesdropping on it by ident. ��Do you intend for the people of thisnd to take up arms and overrun the mountain?��

    ��Something like that,�� I replied evasively. ��If all goes well, we can listen to a recording after the battle is over.��

    Eris scoffed. ��And if we aren��t lucky?��

    ��Then we��ll hear it in real-time.�� The<em>Colmar��s</em>rm rang across the airship the moment I finished my sentence, signaling the start of our troubles. ��Here theye.��

    <em>��Demons!��</em>Marika shouted over the speakers.<em>��I need someone on the deck!��</em>

    ��That��s my cue,�� Eris said, her staff radiating power as she looked at me with a grim gaze of concern. ��Don��t die on me, Robin. I��ve buried too many friends.��

    As always, it fell on me to lighten up her mood. ��Only if you give me something to live for.��

    ��Fine.�� A thin smile spread across her face. ��That��s a bargain I can live with.��

    She pressed her lips against mine. Her kiss was quick, clumsy, and hesitant, with little confidence and much anxiety; but it was raw and true. Like all good things, it ended way too soon when Eris teleported away.

    ��E,�� I heard Beniin from inside Ravengarde.

    ��You��ll get it one day,�� I promised him as I slid open the wooden panels and allowed our cannons to stick outside of the hull. Mist flooded into our ship and I saw screaming shadowsing at us from within its depths.

    I started sting.

    Soraseo entered the den of evil in her country��s uniform.

    It had been so long since shest wore amon officer��scquered armor rather than her crimson one. Father forced her to<em>earn</em>that particr equipment through grueling training. Her current outfitcked the essence-enhanced capabilities of the other. It made her feel naked as she walked through the incised mine passageways leading into the heart of Mount Kazandu.

    She remembered the few times she visited the mountain in the past. The air had seemed so pure back then, even within its deepest tunnels, but it now choked with putrid essence even more intense than a Blight��s heart. She could smell its vile stench through the pieces of her helmet covering her mouth and its influence warped the very fabric of reality around them. The walls glowed with golden and silvery hues, as if the stone had suddenly transformed into precious metals. The heat only continued to increase the further her group progressed inside the volcano, with crimson runestones engraved into the walls providing a flicker of twisted light.

    Evil permeated Soraseo��s flesh and bones, trying to find a way in. Her mark burned her skin beneath her armor as the power within recoiled from the intense corruption around them. It shielded her mind as it did when she fought across many Blights, but she hadn��t sensed such an oppressive aura in the air since the City of Wrath.

    She and her hero allies escorted Lord Oboro into the tunnel, all of them armed and armored to the teeth. Her teacher only carried his ceremonial sword and, true to his teachings, refused to draw it even when robed cultists came to greet him at Mount Kazandu. He didn��t need to. Cunning words had earned him a ce of honor among the vipers.

    ��I must confess my utmost surprise, honorable Lord Oboro,�� their cultist guide said, a small group of his fellow witchcrafters escorting their group into the volcano��s heart. ��I wasn��t informed you were one of us.��

    ��Our masters believed it wiser that I keep my true allegiances hidden from friends and foes alike so that I could sow the seeds of discontentment in Seukaia undetected,�� Lord Oboro replied with such calm confidence that he sounded utterly believable, though he had to wipe some sweat off his brow. The corrupt essence in the air weighed on his soul in spite of his training. ��I could not miss our greatest triumph.��

    Rubenzo had coached Lord Oboro on the Knots�� secret messages which he had stolen from cultists Chronius and Lady Mersie captured in Goldport. Her teacher had quickly adapted to the deception and yed his role well.

    <em>Too well.</em>

    Soraseo was<em>sure</em>of it now. Tiny details had only confirmed her gut feeling and worst fears. She sent a nce to her allies among the guards, her hand resting on her sword��s pommel. The secret message passed between them.

    They were all walking right into a trap; one that they would have to turn against the hunter if they hoped to survive.

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    ��This essence in the air���� Lord Oboro choked, his throat dry from the heat. ��Have you begun the ceremony already?��

    ��It began seven hours ago,�� their cultist guide replied gleefully, while a song echoed deeper into the cavern. ��You have joined us just in time for the finish.��

    Soraseo��s jaw clenched on its own. Time was running out.

    She saw light at the tunnel��s end, and their long journey into the mountain��s depths ended in a great conical cavern dug into the very mouth of Mount Kazandu. Crimson, bloodsoaked mist swirled in the sky above the stone like a spiraling cloud. As her group entered this chamber, Soraseo��s eyes were drawn to a golden gleam at its center. Her eyes widened in shock once they limated to the lighting.

    An ind of gold melted into a pool of magma.

    A towering hill of thousands, if not<em>millions</em>of Devil Coins floated on a steaming pit ofva dug into a ring of molten runestones. The mountain of riches gleamed like the heart of the sun in the light of the molten earth, the gilded Soulforged Adamantine making up their structure merging together into a fluctuating shape like a shimmering mirage while their countless ruby eyes flickered with malevolence. Their wicked essence swirling in the air, twisting the mists in the form of floating skulls and golden clouds.

    Soulforged Adamantine was supposed to be indestructible, yet the Devil Coins had begun to melt together.

    The sheer quantity of them boggled Soraseo��s mind, and their blinding shine hurt her eyes. This tribute to human greed put that of her country��s to shame. Did all of these coins contain a stolen soul harvested over seven hundred years of demonic deals and corruption? Even if a fraction of them alone held captured spirits, this hoard likely included an entire kingdom��s worth of victims.

    And more it would im still.

    Dozens of Shinkokan women surrounded the monstrous pit, their hands bound to the runestone ring by thick metal chains. Many of them screamed and wept from the heated metal searing their skin, pleading with guards and cultists to no avail while their tears turned to steam on their cheeks. All of them had a passing resemnce to Soraseo��s true face, much to her sorrow.

    Those poor souls had been taken to suffer in her ce.

    Dozens of hooded cultists scuttled about on the stone floor around the pool, most of them singing in ancient Erebian around the hill of coins. Two demons��a tri-faced gargoyle of solid silver and a colossal, monstrous purple fly with a human face and torso��prayed to an immense marble statue of the Goddess sitting on a golden throne far to the chamber��s rear.

    No�� the Goddess was always represented with a mask and this woman was bare-faced. Her traits sharply reminded Soraseo of Eris, albeit with an expression of condescending pride rather than mischief. The fair creature had furled great wings, a goldenurel crown, and a scroll folded in her hands. This had to be the Devil of Greed.

    Doggotaro was sitting on herp.

    Soraseo��s heart skipped a beat in her chest. As the Monk, she had grown used to noticing countless tiny details that she would have ignored before; and the ragged, pale face of her brother filled her with shame and concern. Though dressed in the jade robes of an emperor, he seemed to have aged<em>years</em>since theyst met; some of his hair had gone white, and his bloodshot eyes staring at the captive women with visceral fear. Soraseo recognized that look all too well.

    Her brother looked the same the night when she murdered their mother before his eyes.

    It took all of her willpower not to freeze in ce. Instead, Soraseo lowered her gaze and eyed Lord Oboro in an attempt to ground herself back into the present. Her teacher��s attention was wholly focused on her brother too, or at least it seemed at first nce. His gaze instead turned to the statue on which he sat, a brief emotion passing over his face.

    A thin smile full of condescension.

    Lord Oboro quickly hid it with a bow. ��Theva is rising, Your Majesty,�� he said without emotion. ��Is there no safer ce for you to be?��

    Soraseo and her allies had noticed it too. Theva threatened to overflow and drown the captive women in a tide of molten fire as the coins continued to sink into the magma. Their blood would meld with the gilded Soulforged Adamantine and serve as the foundation of their killer��s Crown of Desire. Soraseo��s allies exchanged a look with her, with all of them thinking about how to save these hostages without arousing suspicion.

    For a moment, Soraseo thought her brother hadn��t listened. Doggotaro then stirred on the statue��sp, his hands grasping at his imperial robes.

    ��She has to<em>die</em>,�� he said with empty eyes.

    The venomous fear in his voice hit Soraseo harder than the sting of Belgoroth��s sword. When he looked at the captive women, her brother only saw her bloodstained face. The vile essence of this ce had clouded his mind.

    ��Your mother shall be returned to you soon, oh wise emperor, by the will of the Goddess returned,�� their cultist guide announced. ��The daughter��s blood shall pay for the empress�� safe rebirth among the living.��

    <em>Lies.</em>Soraseo��s hand gripped her sword pommel with all of her strength.<em>Demons lie, always.</em>

    She<em>had</em>to save him, to drag him out of this cursed ce alive and well. Only then would she beg for his forgiveness at her feet and face her judgment without regrets.

    A distant detonation shook her out of her thoughts.

    It was distant, a booming echo from high above, hardly louder than far away thunder, but both she and Lord Oboro managed to hear it over the cultists'' song.

    Robin.

    ��Intruders?�� her teacher asked with a look of false concern.

    ��Too little, toote,�� the cultist guide dered, his hands joined. ��The promised time hase!��N?v(el)B\\jnn

    The hooded men sang louder than ever, and the hill of gold appeared to vibrate in response to their prayers. The coins flickered and undted, their gleaming substance merging together into a gilded mountain of white-hot blinding light. A littleva began to spill out of the ring containing the pit and nearly melted a screaming captive alive.

    Soraseo tensed up, as did her allies. The essence in the air thickened until it became unbearable and suffocating. Crimson, skull-shaped steam arose from the golden hill; Soraseo had no idea how long it would take for the coins to merge together into a Devil��s Crown, but she knew the process was fast underway.

    Then she felt it.

    That familiar sensation of recognizing a fellow Hero.

    Her eyes immediately pinpointed its source: a duo of hooded cultists singing in front of the statue, their backs turned on Soraseo��s group. Her power granted her enough understanding of motion and bodynguage to recognize Chronius among them. How had he managed to infiltrate the gathering?

    If so, then his otherpanion had to be�C

    ��Now,�� Soraseo heard the disguised Rubenzo whisper at her side, uttering the signal.

    She reacted instantly, knowing that hesitation would spell their doom.

    Soraseo drew her weapon faster than the wind and turned her de on her teacher.

    Her power caught a glimpse of his genuine surprise written all over his face, while Rubenzo��s hand moved to grab him from behind and Lady Mersie grabbed daggers hidden under her armor. The entire sneak attack took ce in the span of a second.

    If Soraseo had miscalcted, she would stop within an inch of Lord Oboro��s neck before she couldnd a killing blow. Part of her hoped that she had been mistaken, that her instincts had deceived her.

    The thing wearing her teacher��s face caught her sword in midair at inhuman speed.

    Soraseo��s hand immediately became lighter, her sword teleporting straight into Lord Oboro��s palm. His body��s limbs and neck then twisted in an unnatural way, the joints snapping like twigs like a ragdoll. Rubenzo��s hand barely missed its chest by an inch.

    Soraseo��s heart sank in her chest. She barely had time to see the ghastly smile stretching on her teacher��s humorless face and hear the two words he whispered under his breath.

    ��Good try,�� he said.

    The Shadow of Envy slipped through their grasp and ran straight for the Devil of Greed��s treasure.

    The room erupted into screams of chaos and confusion in an instant. The impostor wearing Lord Oboro��s face threw the stolen sword at Mersie with inhuman strength before she could retaliate with knives of her own, forcing her to dodge. By the time Soraseo and Rubenzo raced after him, the Shadow was already shedding their disguise and running on all fours. Their limbs stretched out into long and thin stick-like appendages with too many joints.

    Their cultist guide had the misfortune of standing in the Shadow��s way; he barely had time to open his mouth and shout a warning before ��Lord Oboro�� pushed them aside with an elongated arm. The Knot member��s body immediately turned to dust in the blink of an eye as all their years of life were stolen from them.

    The Shadow didn��t slow down, their attention was entirely focused on the hoard of souls they sought to steal for themselves.

    Soraseo cursed her slowness as she picked her sword off the ground. She should have struck earlier. She had had a gut feeling something was wrong when her teacher had so readily agreed to help them. Lord Oboro always argued that a true swordsman knew when to unsheathe his sword, and he never did anything without cautious consideration. The<em>real</em>one would have investigated Soraseo��s story and dyed before giving anything more than information.

    He had been simply too eager to act decisively. His reluctance to discuss the adamantine mask��whose details he likely shared because the Heroes could have easily confirmed the story and earned their distrust otherwise��had only confirmed her suspicions.

    The impostor must have murdered or even stolen him a mere few hours before their visit.

    Her teacher would be<em>avenged</em>.

    Chronius turned around with daggers in his hands while his hooded ally��who had to be the Spy��threw runestones hidden inside their sleeves into the magma pool. An enormous burst of icy essence erupted from it instantly and unleashed a cloud of steam across the chamber that swallowed panicked cultists, angry demons, and hostages alike. A thick mountain of ice swallowed the coins and plugged up the magma pit before it could overflow.

    Chronius threw a volley of knives with lethal uracy. Dozens of projectiles flew across the air, each of them nailing a cultist��s head or a demon��s eye. The Shadow alone dodged them easily enough, their Archer power granting them inhuman uracy and reflexes. Yet when their elongated arm reached for the Devil Coins, they found a thick wall of ice in the way. Their inhuman screech of frustration echoed with hundreds of voices, while their mouth stretched into a maw filled with fingers and eyes. Their body began to undergo an even ghastlier transformation as melting ice shrouded the chamber in thick mist.

    Undeterred, and with her power allowing her to pinpoint its movements, Soraseo prepared to charge after the abomination with her sword when her brother��s scream reached her ears. The danger of the Shadow, the ritual, and the threat of Knots and demons alike faded from her mind as her head snapped in Doggotaro��s direction.

    Her brother stared at her with abject fear, while the statue��s hands had moved to seize him like a mother with her child.

    The Devil of Greed��s marble lips had stretched into a smile.

 Chapter Sixty: Gold Devil and Silver-Tongue

    Chapter Sixty: Gold Devil and Silver-Tongue

    The chamber shook, and the world with it.

    Tremors spread across the chamber, cracking walls of stone and causing the magma to ripple. Blinding light shone from within the cocoon of frost in which Soraseo��s allies entombed the Devil��s hoard. A maddening flow of essence gathered at the center of the room, turning the ice to steam and heralding the end of the world.

    Chaos reigned in the room. Rubenzo slew his way through cultists trying to intercept him, his sword cutting through the air with grace and agility that rivaled Soraseo��s own. Their hooded ally among them��who Soraseo assumed to be the Spy��frantically removed the chains binding the hostages to the magma pool before it could overflow and kill them all. The Shadow loomed out of the mist with a thousand faces, with Chronius and Lady Mersie��s attempts to impale their back with daggers hardly doing more than frustrate the Demon Ancestor��s attempts to break through the ice and steal the Devil��s hoard for themselves.

    The Shadow was now over twice the size of a man, with long and twisted limbs with too many joints. Nothing remained of Lord Oboro��s form besides remnants of tattered clothes. The creature��s shape was a parody of a humanoid, but its body�� every single patch of skin was made from a tapestry of woven, screaming faces stitched together. Soraseo��s heart skipped a beat when her enhanced awareness of movements picked up the heads of her teacher and poor Erika among the abomination��s amalgamated flesh.

    Part of them were still alive within that <em>thing</em>.

    A single ind of metal floated among that hideous sea of flesh: a familiar adamantine mask standing proudly atop a chimeric head, its stitched together eyes and lips providing a stark contrast to the screaming faces of the monster��s victims.

    The Shadow could steal anything, but they were stuck with it. Stealing the ice would have entrapped them within it in ce of the hoard, so they had no other choice than to attempt to break their way inside it. Essence swirled around their twisted face-hands as they called upon the knowledge of assimted witchcrafters in an attempt to break the enchantment.

    Soraseo would have wanted nothing more than to stop the Demon Ancestor, but the Knot cultists and their allies had recovered from their earlier surprise. The tri-faced gargoyle among them lumbered after Soraseo and nearly smashed her to fine paste with its massive arm, forcing her to engage it in battle while the fly-demon flew straight at the Shadow.

    ��Kill her!�� Soraseo heard her brother scream, his shrieks of fear louder than the tremors and his finger pointed straight at Soraseo. He must have recognized her. ��Kill her, kill her, <em>kill her</em>!��Hearing her sibling call out for her death broke Soraseo��s heart, but not enough to throw off her aim. She dodged the gargoyle��s blow, circled them in the blink of an eye, and detected the slight chinks in their thick, stonelike skin. She pressed her de against them and sliced through their hard flesh deep enough to draw blood. The creature let out a growl of pain as Soraseo left a deep gash in their chest and started cutting her way through its limbs.

    Meanwhile, the fly-demon attempted to ram into the Shadow of Envy. Thetter stopped them with a wave of their twisted hands; the demon��s insectoid face was torn from their body the moment they touched the Demon Ancestor and joined the Shadow��s collection of faces. The corpse turned into red steam in an instant.

    Demons were no more than pale imitations of their predecessors.

    s, the distraction proved effective. The glow inside the ice cocoon grew so bright that Soraseo had to cover her eyes so as not to go blind. A suffocating surge of essence more overwhelming than anything she had ever felt erupted across the chamber. The Shadow of Envy looked no more than a speck of ckness sted by searing light.

    And as the cocoon of ice crumbled from the pressure within it, Soraseo got a brief glimpse of whaty within; a great and mighty device of woven souls and gilded filigree, whose mere presence bent the very essence of reality around itself. Her heart sank into her chest as a terrible realization dawned upon her.

    They had failed.

    The Crown of Desire came screaming into the world, and a tide of gold swallowed them all.

    I was tearing apart a demon with a well-ced cannonball when Mount Kazandu erupted.

    The fog had grown so thick by then that I could barely see the smoking caldera and the dozen flying monsters protecting it. Beni and I had done our best to fend them off the small horde of screaming chimera and winged fiends while Marika drove the airship closer to the volcano��s summit.

    We had been so close, only for a blinding sh to emerge from the caldera and briefly disperse the fog. I first thought the volcano had started to undergo an eruption, but saw nova nor smoke sputtering out of it; only <em>light</em>. My mark burned beneath my glove with such heat that steam came out from out from below the leather, its agony sharp and familiar. My blood ran cold as I recognized the sensation.

    My mark had only reacted like this once, back when Sebastian summoned the Devil of Greed in Archfrost.

    <em>��Eris!��</em> I heard Marika shout through the loudspeakers, my heart racing with panic at the name. <em>��Eris has copsed! Someone�C��</em>

    The world turned golden.

    I reflexively covered my eyes as a tide of color swallowed the <em>Colmar </em>and silenced the symphony of battle. The screams of demons surrounding the airship and the thundering of our cannons both ended in a blink, snuffed out like dead candles blown by the wind. An oppressive aura fell upon my flesh and soul with the weight of mountains. The light hit me like a tidal wave and threw me back against a wall.

    When the otherworldly shine dimmed enough for me to see again, the artillery room was in shambles. The cannons had been overturned, Ravengarde thrown to the side, and the fog had returned thicker than ever. The demons harassing us had vanished. Clouds now glittered like gold dust in the misty sky while a star shone brightly above Mount Kazandu with more essence than a kingdom��s worth of souls.

    My stomach knotted in unease. The disaster we had struggled so much to stop hade to pass.

    But we hadn��t failed <em>yet</em>.

    ��Beni!�� I rose to my feet and went to check on my ally within Ravengarde. ��Beni, are you well?!��

    Ravengarde turned to face me. I hadn��t given the golem a voice to speak with yet, but its gears seemed to let out a sound that reminded me of a cry. Its backpartment opened slightly to reveal its contents. My blood turned to ice the moment I saw two gilded eyes staring back at me.

    Beni had turned into a statue of gold, with fog flowing out of his screaming mouth frozen in time. His mark glowed like molten silver and proved unable to break its host from his prison.

    <em>This is like in Archfrost, </em>I told myself in an attempt to soothe my wounded heart. I had already gone through a simr event in Archfrost when Sebastian sold his soul to his patron. Time had stopped for everyone until the deal��spletion, only to return to normal afterwards. <em>This is just temporary. He��s fine.</em>

    But too many details made me doubt it though.

    ��No�� no, this is different���� I muttered under my breath. Everyone had been turned to gold back when I entered the Golden World in Archfrost, yet Ravengarde remained active. Moreover, the clouds and fog continued to flow unimpeded. ��Time hasn��t stopped.��

    The statue Beni had be exhaled a wisp of mist. To my surprise, I saw a glimpse of images within it. Colors shifted to show a brief picture of Beni, Marika, and I in a forge working on a golem. I thought it might have been a memory until I saw Marika and I kiss briefly, with golden rings glittering on our hands.

    <em>Could this be an illusion? </em>The fog was thick with Beni��s essence and feelings.<em> Is that what he��s seeing inside that shell of gold? </em>

    Most importantly, if it could affect a Hero��

    I pulled back from Ravengarde and looked outside a porthole. Our airship hovered over the volcano��s caldera, which gave me a good view of the mountain��s cliffs. The demons we had been fighting earlier had turned into statues of gold and crashed onto the ground below. How far did this sorcery extend?

    My mark probably protected me by virtue of sharing the same ss as the Devil of Greed, while Ravengarde might have been spared because of his unique golem physiology. I couldn��t tell yet.

    First things first, I had to ensure that the others were safe. Marika��s silence made me suspect she had suffered the same fate as her son, and Eris�� Eris might be in an even worse position.

    ��Protect Beni and go check on Marika,�� I told Ravengarde. ��I will do the same with Eris on the deck.��

    I prayed to the Goddess that my gut feeling was wrong and that I wouldn��t find what I expected to.

    The golem nodded and fulfilled mymand. We split up, with Ravengarde traveling to themand bridge while I hurried to the deck. My steps echoed on the wood and steel as I exited the ship��s innards and rushed outside. The sky had taken on a golden hue while a bright star hovered high above the mountain, its glow piercing through the fog like a lighthouse.

    Eris gazed at it with a hand on the arm rail, her back turned on me.

    I immediately knew something was terribly wrong from her posture alone. Her back was too straight, her head held too high with a victor��s pride. I saw a faint wisp of smoke rising above her head while her left hand burned with a baleful glow. I dared to look at thetter, my fists tightened in dread when I recognized the source.

    A golden, skull-faced coin mark seared to her pale skin.

    ��Eris?�� I called out to her, unsure of what to expect.

    She turned to face me.

    Her face remained unchanged. She still looked like the same nun I hade to trust and love, but her gaze had gained a sharpness and overbearing pride I didn��t recognize. Moreover, her Wanderer��s Mark <em>burned</em>. It burned like coal and ckened her cheek around itself into a baleful scar, as if trying��and failing��to harm its holder.

    ��What��s wrong, handsome?�� she asked me with Eris�� voice and that unmistakable, mischievous smile. ��Don��t you like my new look?��

    They had merged again.

    Of course they did. If Daltia forged her Artifact from the hoard she had bound her soul to, there was only one ce where her untethered demonic self could have gone afterpleting the ritual: back to its source. Back to Eris.

    And how much would a few years of guilt and atonement weigh against centuries of sins? Not much.

    ��Eris,�� I said with my rapier drawn. ��You have to fight her.��

    Daltia��s smile faded away, her eyes heavy with sadness. ��I��m sorry, handsome, but you have it wrong,�� she replied before taking a long deep breath. ��There is no her, not truly. Never was.��

    ��I do not believe you,�� I replied, my sword pointed at her neck. ��Release her <em>right now</em>.��

    Daltia��s head tilted to the side with what could pass for fondness. Seeing the fiend borrow Eris�� expression for herself disgusted me. ��Do you think you can fight your way out of this?��

    ��If I must.�� A prospect that I knew was doomed now that she hadpleted her Artifact and fully regained her Merchant powers. I might have had a chance with allies, but on my own�� I wouldn��t bet on myself. ��I don��t suppose you would be open to a trade?��

    ��For all of your wits, you remain a gant fool at heart, Robin. I suppose that is why you swept me off my feet so easily.�� Daltia closed her eyes. ��But yes, I would rather talk things through�� if you��ll listen.��

    I scoffed, my mind furiously working to find a way out of this. The best I could do for now was to buy time. ��Is this the moment when you offer me a ce at your side?��

    ��Is this when you try to buy time in the hope your contingency n will undo my work?�� Daltia chuckled to herself. ��I am not certain what you and Neferoa nned, though I have an idea.��

    ��Why don��t you teleport around to stop it then?�� I stared at the Wanderer��s mark. ��Unless your new ss refuses to obey you?��

    ��You win some, you lose some.�� Daltia looked at her left hand. ��I am confident that your n will fail, and I do want you to join me, yes. So why don��t you sheath that weapon of yours and join me for a little stargazing? My Crown of Desire is a fine piece of craftsmanship.��

    I pondered my options carefully. She was right, my back-up n would require some time to activate, if Neferoa could even trigger it. Even if I could defeat Daltia in a fight, victory might cost Eris�� life. She didn��t seem to know that Ravengarde was still active either. She was simply too confident in herself.

    If I could find a way to jog Eris�� memory, maybe I could turn this around.

    Daltia sighed. ��Are you still under the misconception that I am possessed?��

    ��What other word is there for this situation?�� I countered. ��I have seen demons and heard Eris�� tale. She cast you away until you split up and became separate, if connected, entities.��

    ��She was wrong. Or rather, she was deceived.�� Daltia turned to look at the floating crown. ��Think about it, Robin. If you want to deceive the world, you have to start with yourself.��

    A dark feeling sank into my gut. ��What does that mean?��

    ��My amnesiac self told you that I had tried to sever my sins in an attempt to shed my past, but in truth, it��s the other way around. I temporarily cast away my body until the day I could reim it.�� Daltia shook her head. ��Certainly you must understand. You have purchased memories yourself and have nearly been overwhelmed. You have seen how malleable an identity is.��

    My mind started to make sense of her words, but I refused to ept their meaning. ��That��s a lie,�� I protested. ��The Wanderer��s mark wouldn��t have chosen you had your repentance been <em>insincere</em>.��

    ��I <em>was </em>sincere,�� Daltia replied calmly. ��Even Bel had a seed of doubt buried deep within his heart. There is a part of me that dithers and doubts�� but it��s <em>much </em>smaller than you would expect. It simply looked bigger in a vacuum.��

    This novel''s true home is a different tform. Support the author by finding it there.

    I didn��t believe her, but with few options avable, I decided to y along until I could gather more information. Daltia was bound to slip up at one point or another.

    I joined her at the arm rail while being careful not to show fear or unease. The two of us stood side by side, the first andtest Merchants of Pangeal facing the end of the world together.

    Daltia was right about one thing: her Crown of Desire was indeed an impressive construct. I could barely distinguish the shape of the house-sized ring of golden faces with towers for horns within its otherworldly light. It glowed above Mount Kazandu with the shine of a newborn sun, with the fog swirling around it like a hurricane��s eye. Space rippled around it and cracks spread across the sky like a shattered mirror.

    For the first time in my short life, I wasying eyes on an <em>Artifact</em>.

    Whether this twisted, soulforged copy matched the real ones in power didn��t matter. It wielded more than enough. The very essence of the world bent to its will and rippled across the horizon.

    How long until the Four Artifacts intervened? And at what cost?

    ��Marika and the others worked wonders,�� Daltiamented. ��I had feared this ship would crash without a pilot at the helm, but it remains steady.��

    The world was undergoing a cataclysmic change because of her actions, and she was trying to open up with <em>small talk</em>?

    ��What have you done to them?�� I asked, my gaze lingering on the golden demons below us. ��To <em>everyone</em>?��

    ��I sent them to a happier ce,�� Daltia said calmly. ��One where all their desires are fulfilled.��

    I looked deeper at the mist swirling around the <em>Colmar</em>. More mirages appeared within the fog. I saw scenes representing people I didn��t recognize smiling, dancing, singing�� but then I noticed a few familiar faces.

    I witnessed a brief sh of Mersie in a regal gown, dancing with a girl who so closely resembled her that I could have mistaken her for a twin. The scene was quickly followed by a glimpse of Soraseo enjoying tea with herte mother and brother, and then Chronius observing his adoptive daughter receive a diploma of some kind�� all blissful memories that never were.

    Did those imagese from my allies below? Were they trapped inside statues of gold too, exhaling dreams that would nevere true?

    ��What are those?�� I asked. ��Illusions?��

    ��For now,�� Daltia conceded. ��This is what our friends see. Their ideal worlds.��

    <em>They aren��t your friends,</em> I thought while holding my tongue. The scene I��d seen Beni exhale earlier appeared before me, but more vivid, its colors brighter. The illusion had gained more details and consistency. I looked at it with my essence sight and noticed two wills fueling this lie.

    It was a shared dream.

    ��Beni is dreaming of a better family�� with the father he deserves.�� Daltia chuckled lightly. ��His mother shares his dream and desire. I��m starting to suspect she might have a small crush on you, handsome.��

    ��You find this funny?�� I asked, a scowl spreading across my face. Hearing her call me by Eris�� nickname filled me with <em>disgust</em>. ��Is this your grand n? To trap everyone on this in a fantasy while they remain prisoners of their own bodies?��

    ��I dislike the words ��trap�� and ��prisoners,���� Daltia argued, as if semantics mattered at this point. ��As for your question, this is little more than a transitory step. For my Crown of Desire to bring about our ideal reality, enough people must <em>believe </em>in it first. Everyone will emerge from their golden shell once a new consensus is achieved.��

    I had already guessed Daltia��s n back in Archfrost, but the magnitude of her ambition gave me pause.

    I finally began to grasp this fog��s true nature. Essence was shaped by thoughts and beliefs. Daltia��s witchcrafters had altered thisnd��s leylines to produce primal mists that would absorb its inhabitants�� feelings like a sponge soaked in water.

    That must have been why she gathered the women prisoners inside Mount Kazandu. The Devil of Greed hadn��t been after their souls, but their intense fears and anxiety focused on a single point; enough raw feelings to ignite the fire that would consume the world.

    If the Crown projected illusions in the minds of its victims, then their essence would reflect their altered state of mind the same way negative emotions twisted thendscape into a Blight. It would harness that power and weave those desires to strengthen itself into a feedback loop to fuel itself.

    The consequences�� the consequences would be <em>catastrophic</em>.

    My mark had protected me from Blights and torrents of essence, while Rnd��s own allowed him to briefly withstand all the hatred in the world. Yet neither Marika nor Beni could break out of this false reality on their own. No mind on Pangeal would resist the Crown��s pull for long.

    And if its influence continued to expand, then it would enthrall <em>all </em>of mortalkind and rewrite reality itself in Daltia��s image. She would reshape the perception of all living beings until they acknowledged her as the world��s owner; at which point her Merchant power would turn that <em>perception </em>into <em>reality</em>.

    Such was the gravity of the situation that the idea of tossing Daltia overboard crossed my mind. I had no guarantee that she would perish this way�Cwhile both Eris and I would probably die in the attempt�Cbut the threat her n presented to Pangeal was simply too cataclysmic for me to dither.

    ��Killing me won��t change anything, Robin,�� Daltia said, having guessed what was on my mind. ��The Crown needs no directions to fulfill people��s desires. It already acts on its own without guidance from my part.��

    ��The Artifacts won��t tolerate this madness,�� I warned her. Selestine had already said as much. ��They will sink this entire ind before your Crown can extend its influence to the continent.��

    Daltia answered my words with supreme confidence. ��By the time they intervene, the Crown will have gained enough sway over the collective consciousness of the masses to triumph; and even if I��m wrong�� well, you cannot change the world without taking a few calcted risks.��

    ��This can��t be what you want, Eris,�� I said, trying one more time to appeal to the human buried deep within the Demon Ancestor. ��You have to help me stop <em>this</em>.��

    ��I <em>am </em>Eris,�� Daltia replied with a hint of frustration. ��I have no other self, Robin, no more than Chronius�� alternate personality is a different soul than his own. There is just <em>me</em>, all of me, sins and guilt alike.��

    My tongue clicked behind my teeth as I came up with a clever retort, only for it to die in my throat when I paid close attention to Daltia��s expression. Her eyes desperately avoided mine, to better hide the shame. She was biting her tongue, and her hands gripped the arm rail far too tightly.

    She was the very picture of guilt. <em>Genuine </em>guilt.

    The seed of doubt gnawed its way into my heart. I thought back to the day I saw her transform Sebastian into a demon, how she removed his soul and left his empty sins to upy his flesh. I��d always thought Daltia created demons in order to gather followers and umte souls, but a new possibility suddenly came to mind.

    Daltia was a Merchant, and we always sought to improve things. We kept trying to push the limits of our powers. We didn��t keep doing the same thing over and over again; we thrived in refining processes.

    So why create one demented monster after another? Sebastian��s transformation turned him into an irrational beast unfit to lead the Knots. While Daltia started creating demons during the Sunderwar to umte souls and gather shock troops, it seemed strange that the likes of Chastel was the best she could produce after centuries of experimentation.

    It didn��t make sense for a calcting mastermind like her to create that kind of minion, unless�� unless their creation brought her closer to another, more insidious goal.

    ��You created demons as tests for <em>yourself</em>,�� I realized, my voice breaking in utter disbelief. ��You didn��t reject your demonic self. You tricked us by tricking <em>yourself</em>.��

    A long silence stretched between us, until Daltia found the courage to meet my gaze again. This time, I saw a glimpse of Eris�� sorrow within them; an echo of the woman who had guided my journey from the beginning and be so much more than a friend.

    ��Tell me, Robin,�� she said. ��Why do you think your predecessors managed to seal away Bel by entombing his body, when his soul was sealed inside his sword?��

    Her question gave me pause. I had seen Belgoroth control a custom golem from afar by imbuing it with his Berserk me, the same way a puppeteer manipted a doll. He could project his will from afar, yes, and his sword influenced Beni��s father�� but it never permanently possessed a new vessel. Belgoroth��s power had remained bound to his body, even though his soul long abandoned it for a soulforged container.

    By contrast, I had the example of Colmar, whose soul lingered among the living by tethering itself to his apothecary outfit long after his own body rotted away. He had theorized that his ghost haunted his old clothes because he considered himself an apothecary through and through.

    I suddenly realized that my friend had identally stepped on an important truth.

    ��Because the soul and the body are tied,�� I guessed. ��Our power is shaped by perception, both our own and that of others; and our very sense of self is linked to how we perceive our body.��

    ��When your predecessors sealed me away under the Lake of Greed, I became a prisoner inside my own flesh,�� Daltia said while examining her mark. ��My soul was bound to my coins, and I had enough sway to make deals with those who held them, but I hungered for more. I could never fully sever the link between my spirit and my body because I saw myself as <em>Daltia Eris Brra, </em>the human Merchant chosen by the Goddess herself. To escape my prison, I had to first change my own perception of myself.��

    The pieces of the puzzle fell into ce. ��That��s why you transform demons into monsters,�� I realized to my utter horror. ��To sever an untethered soul, you must twist the body until the spirit no longer recognizes it as part of itself.��

    ��I spent centuries refining the process on those who picked up my coins until I crafted an escape n,�� Daltia confirmed. ��The seal that kept my body entombed was designed to hold the body of the Devil of Greed as the masses perceived me. If I could prune those parts of my identity into a bodiless entity bound to the coins on one side, and reshape what was left behind into a new person entirely�C��

    ��Then the seal would fail to hold you both,�� I muttered, my throat sore from the sting of betrayal. ��But you knew this would leave your body without the mark and powerless at the Fatebinder��s mercy. You had to make sure your mortal half could put on a good show.��

    Daltia nodded and let out a sigh heavy with sadness. ��I removed critical memories and left behind all the parts of myself I knew would appeal to the Arcane Abbey. My doubts, my grief���� She chuckled to herself. ��My sense of humor.��

    ��You turned yourself into the perfect actor, because you had forgotten you were ying a role.�� I seethed at her deceit. ��A repentant Demon Ancestor, with first-hand knowledge of the others�� secrets and weaknesses, was too attractive a catch for the Fatebinder.��

    ��My hope was that Lysandra Alexios would take me into her confidence once I had earned her trust,�� Daltia confirmed. ��I figured I could merge back with my deluded body when the time was right, or at least ensure I would remember my purpose on my own. I will admit it wasn��t a foolproof n, but which one is when there are so many moving pieces?��

    ��You couldn��t <em>possibly </em>anticipate the Wanderer��s mark would choose your amnesiac self.��

    ��I did not. That was an utter fluke, albeit one that yed right into my hands.�� Daltia scratched the Wanderer��s mark, only to pull back her finger from the searing heat. ��Your generation of sses was designed with more safeguards than ours, but I suppose its creators couldn��t anticipate <em>every </em>loophole.��

    She had woven a lie so perfect it fooled even a mark designed to avoid picking the wrong host. Rubenzo would be impressed.

    Daltia tilted her head to the side in what could pass for sympathy. ��If it can soothe your wounded pride, handsome, then you came very close to stopping me. Had Shamshir not interfered, you would have arrived before I couldplete my ritual.��

    Being told you were <em>almost </em>good enough was never much constion. ��Did you foresee their interference?��

    ��Not at all,�� Daltia replied, and I believed her. ��Shamshir always had a knack for ruining the bestid ns of the powerful. It simply worked in my favor this time.��

    All this effort to prevent this disaster, and it took only one jealous bastard to ruin it all.

    I <em>should </em>have been furious at Daltia��s deceit. I had unknowingly danced to her tune since the moment she entered my life, letting her slither into my bed and sharing my secrets, only to learn it had all been an borate con. I��d been yed so thoroughly that the entire world would pay for it.

    Nheless, I couldn��t bring myself to hate Daltia. Not when I could see the genuine grief and remorse written all over her face. I trusted myself as a good judge of character, and she had little to gain from showing me this aspect of her; not after she had already won.

    It hadn��t <em>all </em>been a lie.

    ��You were sincere during our time together,�� I said. While Eris had forgotten her n, she still acted in good faith. ��Even if those feelings were born of deceit, they were genuine.��

    ��They were. The Eris of that time sincerely believed���� Daltia��s tongue clicked in her mouth. ��I sincerely believed that I�� I had to change and make up for what I did.��

    I felt hope once again. ��And you still do.��

    ��I <em>am </em>making up for my past crimes.�� Daltia waved a hand at the Crown of Desire. ��This is the light that shall guide the world to our utopia and mend this broken world. The blessing which the Goddess failed to provide.��

    ��A blessing you want to sell me.�� I looked straight into her eyes. ��For your sake, or mine?��

    I knew the answer to that question the moment she faced me, her fidgeting hands joining together with genuine anxiety and fear of rejection.

    Both.

    The answer was <em>both</em>.

    ��I love you, Robin,�� Daltia confessed from the bottom of her heart. ��I love you for believing in me when so many others wouldn��t have. That hasn��t changed.��

    ��But you don��t love me enough to stop,�� I guessed.

    Daltia��s jaw clenched in deep grief. ��Do you love me enough to sacrifice the world for my sake?��

    A tense silence followed. We both knew where we stood.

    ��I love you,�� I replied with a knotted stomach and utmost sincerity. I didn��t have the heart to lie to her; we had gone through so much together for her to believe me. ��But if I have to choose between you and saving Pangeal from an eternity of very, then I will always pick thetter.��

    ��I figured as much,�� Daltia replied calmly, without bitterness. ��We are too much alike�� but I still think you cane around to my point of view.��

    And so did I.

    My gut told me that Eris wasn��t lost to me yet. Deep down, a part of Daltia knew that she had strayed from the right path. She wanted to be proven wrong badly enough that it allowed her to create an entire alternate personality. I could still talk her out of this madness.

    We would fight ourst battle as Merchants do: with <em>words</em> and <em>dreams</em>.

    ��This n of yours is <em>insane</em>,�� I argued. ��You speak of utopia, but it cannot be built on lies and false dreams.��

    ��How else can it exist?�� Daltia put her hands behind her back, as she often did when we were together. ��What is your ideal world, Robin? What are <em>you </em>fighting for?��

    ��A world of happiness and infinite possibilities,�� I replied without hesitation. ��A world where wealth is used to raise people towards prosperity rather than to oppress the weak, and where anyone has the chance to see their ambition realized.��

    ��That is the dream I fight for too.�� Daltia gazed at the crown and the swirling visions reflecting on its fog of desires. ��But what happens when a man��s ambition is to win over a girl��s heart, and that woman does not return their feelings? When a human��s dream is to kill the beastman next door because they do not look like them? What values are dreams to someone burdened by sickness that binds them to a bed, or to a person whocks the innate talent required to fulfill them? The truth is, Robin, that universal happiness is impossible because individual desires will never stop shing, and not everyone has the means to make their ambitions a reality.��

    ��So you would rather have all of them stay unfulfilled?�� I waved a hand at Mount Kazandu. ��None of the people you��ve trapped in shells of gold are fulfilling their ambitions. They are no more than dreamers hooked to a hallucinogenic drug. Is <em>that </em>your vision of human potential?��

    ��As I told you, this is a transitory state,�� Daltia replied. ��My Crown will harmonize all these individual visions and ambitions into a harmonious whole; an ideal reality without conflict nor strife.��

    ��Is that why Marika imagines me as her loving and reliable husband?�� I asked with a frown. ��Because I would be an eptable<em></em>fit that matches her son��s ideal for a father figure?��

    ��What can I say, handsome?�� Daltia gave me that oh-so-familiar smile of hers. ��You are a popr person.��

    ��But was I picked because I am the perfect fit, or because I am a <em>good enough </em>one?�� I was beginning to see the inherent w in Daltia��s project. ��Marika didn��t love me enough to fight you for my hand, after all.��

    ��Maybe she was afraid of confessing her feelings, or she didn��t wish to ruin our friendship,�� Daltia countered. ��This proves my point. Human desires will always conflict in our current reality without a greater power that can satisfy them.��

    ��But that��s the thing, not all of our desires are satisfied even in that ideal world, nor in a way that��s fulfilling,�� I pointed out. ��Marika��s dream has trapped her in a past that never was. She made so much effort to put Will��s abuse behind her and became a stronger person for it. Yet instead of honoring her growth, your Artifact simply erased her past sorrow.��

    ��There is no inherent value in suffering,�� Daltia replied with a shrug. ��Misery does not build character; it has no point. We simply seek meaning when there is none to soothe our pain. Perhaps this dream isn��t the exact situation Marika would have consciously wanted, but it is one that grants her happiness nheless.��

    ��And there��s the issue,�� I pointed out. ��When there is a conflict between irreconcble desires, your Crown will <em>choose </em>what makes us happy. When it can��t grant us what we want, it will simply <em>change </em>what we want.��

    I caught a brief seed of doubt in Daltia��s gaze. ��An academic distinction.��

    ��But one that makes a world of difference,�� I countered. ��How can you create a universe of happiness and possibilities where people aren��t free to choose what they want?��

    ��Should they be free to choose war?�� Daltia replied firmly. ��To choose wrath, jealousy�� <em>greed</em>? To choose oppression and racism? You cannot create a utopia without erasing human frailties.��

    ��And who would choose what the world needs or not?�� I argued. ��You?��

    ��<em>God</em>.�� Daltia pointed at her Artifact. ��Why do you think I crafted this Crown instead of iming this power for myself?��

    Her response took the wind out of my sails. Daltia studied me for a moment, then looked at the golden sky. Only then did I truly understand her n, and that I had it all wrong.

    She never sought to create an <em>Artifact </em>to rece the Goddess.

    She wished to create a <em>deity </em>that would fulfill her prayers.

    ��Pangeal is an orphanednd abandoned by its creator and left adrift,�� she dered. ��It needs a guide, but unlike Cipar, I never forgot that I was a wed human being. Since I couldn��t find a worthy judge�� I <em>created </em>one.��

    I narrowed my eyes. ��By merging the souls of the damned?��

    ��How else could it understand the needs of humankind?�� Daltia countered. ��The Goddess could never see the world through our eyes, while we mortals filter reality through our limited perception�� so I pooled millions of them. I created an impartial entity that would understand everyone, but never favor anybody over another.��

    I thought Daltia took a divine appearance because she wished to rece the Goddess, but I now realized her ambition had always been much greater. She wished to <em>surpass </em>her creator by fixing the world she abandoned, the same way I sought to see Archfrost prosper until it no longer needed me.

    I pondered my words for a moment when I heard it in the distance. A distant echo resonated across the mist, the forest, and thend; a high-pitched note spoken by a single voice through countless mouths.

    A song to shake the earth.

    ��What is this?�� Daltia frowned while gazing at the horizon. ��Neferoa��s ploy?��

    I smiled ear to ear. ��My counterargument.��

 Chapter Sixty-One: A Dream of Silver

    Chapter Sixty-One: A Dream of Silver

    Mizukiya wished this tea ceremony couldst a lifetime.

    ��Spring��s delicate breath,�� her brother recited, his talent for poetry putting Mizukiya��s own to shame. ��Awakens sleeping branches, a symphony blooms.��

    ��Sunlight filters through,�� their mother followed. ��Canopies of cherry blooms, painting earth with light����

    The princess�� biwa melody filled the air, her instrument��s song supplementing her family members�� works with joyful sounds. Cherry blossom petals flew onto the terrasse and the smell of tea filled her nostrils. The very spirit of spring blessed them with a beautiful sunrise.

    <em>��From fiery mountains to the azure sea, our inds rise in majesty����</em>

    Mizukiya��s fingers failed to pinch a string. She raised her head in slight surprise, her flow interrupted.

    ��Daughter, why have you stopped?�� Her mother asked.

    ��I...�� Mizukiya scowled in confusion. ��Do not know.��What was that sound?

    <em>��Whispering palms and skies of blue, thisnd of ours, forever true���� </em>A woman sang in her native Shinkokan, her lyrical voice carried by the spring wind.<em> ��O Isles of Valor, brave and free, we stand united in liberty; with hearts ame and spirits high, we im the stars, we touch the sky����</em>

    ��Do you hear that?�� Mizukiya asked softly. She couldn��t recognize the woman��s voice, but her words carried such vibrant energy that they felt somehow familiar nheless. They appealed to something buried deep within herself.

    ��I don��t want to,�� her brother replied, his joy swiftly turning to frustration. ��I hate it����

    ��Now, Doggotaro, everything will be fine,�� Mother said kindly as she gently took her son into her arms. ��We are here for you.��

    <em>We</em>. The words struck Soraseo like a dagger to the heart, filling her with shame and loathing for a reason she couldn��t exin.

    Wait.

    Sora�� Seo?

    Soraseo?

    <em>��Once shadows cast by empires far, we broke the chains, we raised the bar,��</em> the wind sang, the lyrics reverberating through the Imperial Retreat��s walls and gardens.<em> ��The songs of freedom filled the air, our destiny beyondpare.��</em>

    Soraseo held her head as a headache clouded her mind. Part of her wished to push out the distracting song from her mind and focus on the present moment, because something inside her felt that it would nevere again.

    Nheless, it also filled her with a strange kind of warmth. Her hands began to y the biwa in tandem with the foreign melody, the peacefulness of spring leaving ce to a frantic summer pace.

    <em>��O Isles of Valor, brave and free, we stand united in liberty. With hearts ame and spirits high, we im the stars, we touch the sky.��</em>

    <em>We touch the sky�� </em>She recalled touching the clouds once atop a ship, but ships do not fly. Lightning raged against the peaceful clouds obscuring her mind, ruining her peace.

    <em>��The waves embrace our storied shores, we honor those who came before,�� </em>the voice said, those words striking a chord inside Soraseo��s heart. <em>��In unity, we forge ahead; by dreams and hope, our souls are led.��</em>

    <em>We honor those who came before. </em>

    Soraseo��s eyes wandered to her Mother, who smiled back kindly at her. Her lips were blurred at the edges, alongside her hands and clothes. The entire terrasse shifted like a mirage with the exception of her brother, who was as solid as Soraseo herself.

    ��I remember now,�� Soraseo said, her biwa fading away into a sheathed sword. She felt a pressure on her face as her mark��s light broke through the dream. ��I won��t honor her this way.��

    Mother had wanted her to forgive herself for her crime and to move on.

    ��No!�� Her brother screeched in rage and fear, his hands gripping their mother��s illusion with all of his strength. ��I refuse to leave!��

    ��I am sorry I wasn��t a better sister to you, brother,�� Soraseo apologized, her heart steeling itself in resolve. ��But this ends here.��

    She would drag him into the future, however ufortable; for the past was dead and even the nicest dreams always came to an end.

    Soraseo closed her eyes, and then she awoke amidst quakes and chaos. Her vision struggled to limate to the blinding lighting from outside the caldera above them and swirling mists hardly kept away by the heat; and when it did, the sight drew a gasp from her.

    The volcanic chamber��s walls were paved with a thickyer of golden dust, as were most of the people trapped inside. Chronius, Mersie, her brother, the demons, and even the cultists and hostages had turned into fog-breathing gilded statues frozen in time, with Rubenzo and the hooded Spy alone having escaped their fate. They desperately worked to drag the petrified women away from the rising magma building up in the room��s center. A few were transforming back into flesh under the influence of the distant song resonating through the fog, while the Archer and Assassin��s marks shone through their owners�� metal shells. Cracks spread over their petrified remains as the Heroes within struggled to emerge back to reality.

    The Devil of Greed��s hoard was gone��a failure which shamed Soraseo to her core��but its vile essence suffused the entire mountain. Her brother remained trapped inside his prison of gold alongside the cultists and demons in spite of her best efforts. His desire to avoid facing reality must have pulled him back into the pleasant illusion immediately after his sister broke out of it.

    Quakes shook the ground and caused cracks to spread through the gilded stone. Soraseo recognized the signs of Mount Kazandu��s awakening. The mountain would stir from its long sleep soon, and its roar would shake thend with fire and stone.

    They had to evacuate <em>now</em>.

    A wall to the north copsed, startling Soraseo. She first suspected andslide, only for a tunnel to open up and a colossal stusk to charge through the rock in triumph. A familiar yeti rode on its back with a smile across his face.

    ��You��re awake too, I see!�� he dered proudly

    ��Lord Mirokald!�� The sight of an ally in these trying times warmed Soraseo��s heart. ��Did you hear the song too?��

    ��I used my power to find my way to Ma, and it brought me out of the dream,�� Mirokald exined with augh. ��She pped me with her trunk the moment I woke up. Serves me right for falling for it.��

    His stusk trumpeted in response. Soraseo assumed that an intelligent animal��s mind might have greater resistance to the Devil of Greed��s power than humans simply because the Demon Ancestor struggled to interpret the former��s desires. Her gaze wandered to Rubenzo, who dragged more of the hostages away from the magma flood along with the Spy.

    ��What about <em>me</em>, you must wonder?�� Rubenzo��sugh thundered over the quakes. ��I am already living the dream, Dear! What more could I want from life?��

    Soraseo��s power detected no lies in his voice, which shamed her. She still had a long way to go before reaching Rogue��s level of focus.

    The Rogue��

    Soraseo��s head snapped up in rm upon realizing that their enemy was missing. Her power immediately picked up movements in the fog above, her gaze sharpening until she saw a form moving half a dozen meters on the stone above her.

    The Shadow of Envy was climbing the volcanic wall like a monstrous spider, grasping and hungering for the divine light outside the caldera. A cloak of jealous essence shielded them from the Devil of Greed��s false dreams and drove them on to pursue their ascent with feverish zeal.

    Soraseo��s grip tightened on her sword. ��Our foe is still after the false Artifact!�� she shouted to her allies with the tip of her de pointed at the Demon Ancestor. ��We cannot let them escape!��

    ��They won��t,�� she heard Lady Mersie��s voice reply to her side. Soraseo barely had time to look to the side to see her and Chronius emerge from their prisons of gold with daggers in their hands. ��Let��s nail them.��

    ��Agreed, no actor should exit the stage until the y��s end,�� Rubenzo replied with a nod before ncing at Mirokald and the Spy. ��The two of you evacuate everyone you can through the tunnel. We��ll silence my predecessor once and for all.��

    ��What about you?�� Mirokald asked Soraseo.

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    ��Take my brother with you, Lord Mirokald,�� Soraseo added as she stretched her legs, her muscles rippling with strength. ��A daughter of the Shinkoku does not run."

    Soraseo leaped on a stone and ran across the wall.

    Gravity was a harsh mistress, but it could be defied and ovee. Soraseo��s mastery of motion and movement guided her through the process, letting her feet find the right spots on which to push and leading her arms to p the right way to increase traction the same way she had seen birds prepare for flight. She ran vertically and upward through the fog, knowing that stopping would mean a fatal fall while Lady Mersie and Chronius assisted her by throwing knives with preternatural uracy.

    The Shadow��s monstrous body of faces and supernatural uracy let him sense the iing projectiles. The Demon Ancestor leaped to the side of a golden wall to dodge them, with the knives�� des striking nothing but air. Soraseo predicted their trajectory with her power, quickly caught up to them, and swung her sword with all her might.

    Her de shed across the Shadow��s back in a sh of steel.

    Her sword sliced them in half in an instant while she ran up the wall, only for the gash to vomit out a human corpse. Soraseo barely had time to catch a glimpse of their face��that of a wizened old man she didn��t recognize��before she was forced to stop two meters above the Shadow so as not to fall. Her free hand grabbed a prominent cleft while the other gripped her sword with all her might.

    The corpse soon crashed onto the ground below while the Shadow��s split body parts reunited almost immediately afterward. Lady Eris had theorized that the Shadow��s form of immortality had a cost they weren��t willing to pay, and the way they healed their wounds told Soraseo why. The Demon Ancestor had stolen countless lives across centuries of evil, and sacrificed them as needed to recover from their wounds.

    On one hand, this meant that the Demon Ancestor only had a limited number of hostages to draw from; on the other hand, each fatal strike threatened to take a life that could be saved.

    ��Do you know what I hate most, <em>princess</em>?��

    Soraseo flinched in horror as the hundred faces making up the Shadow��s body whispered all at once with countless voices. A chill traveled down her spine as she heard Lord Oboro among them, alongside poor Erika.

    ��People like you and Daltia, who look down on us <em>have-nots</em> from your marble pedestals,�� the Shadow growled while raising their left hand at Soraseo. ��You have <em>everything </em>and still find ways to <emin</em>.��

    Their disjointed arm suddenly stretched twofold, with new faces growing to increase its length. Having learned her lesson from their first sh and knowing a single graze would kill her, Soraseo leaped to another spot on the wall rather than counter with her weapon, hopping from one cliff to another as the Shadow gave pursuit with snakelike limbs.

    The Shadow��s power worked through touch, but still required conscious effort on their part. As long as she struck too fast for them to <em>think </em>about stealing her sword from unexpected directions, Soraseo could stillnd some blows.

    However, their foe gave them no opening to exploit. Their hands surged faster than arrows with unnatural precision and struck with enough strength to shatter gilded stone, while their legs let them shift around with the expertise of countless climbers. They showed a martial artist��s borrowed instinct, aiming for Soraseo��s legs and joints with lethal focus. They constantly and relentlessly adjusted their position to prevent the Monk from counterattacking, jumping left to right and up without wasting a single breath.

    Soraseo would have long been caught without her mark��s ability to predict the Shadow��s movements. Even then she was forced to stay on the move at all times, ascending closer and closer to the caldera��s summit while quickly running out of space to dodge.

    ��Why can��t you people <em>appreciate </em>your life?�� the Shadow hissed with the anger of hundreds. ��No matter how many of you I wear, it��s never <em>right</em>. It never <em>clicks</em>. Something��s <em>always </em>missing deep inside your rotten hearts!��

    Soraseo didn��t waste her breath answering an enemy. More knives flew from below through the thick mist which blurred them from her view. The Shadow retained enough reflexes to dodge them, with the des striking only the wall like earlier.

    One of Chronius��, however, had its gripced with runestones. The weapon hit the gilded wall with explosive force and opened a fissure. Cracks spread and caused parts of the caldera to copse. Both the Shadow and Soraseo plummeted below into the chamber as they lost their footing.

    The Monk spun in the air, her power guiding her movements. She shifted through hot air currents produced by the chamber, stabbed the stone with her sword, and used it to slow down her fall into a softnding.

    Meanwhile, the Shadow adjusted their trajectory and grew paws beneath their twisted hands. They impacted the ground on all four with a cat��s grace, only to find themselves surrounded from all sides. Rubenzo, Mersie, Chronius, and Soraseo quickly nked the Demon Ancestor with their des drawn.

    Another earthquake shook the ground before they could press their advantage and nearly threw Soraseo off her feet. Fumes arose from the ground, with gilded stone buckling under the pressure beneath. Dirt then erupted in some parts in volleys of fire and suturing magma.

    Old Kazandu was waking up.

    Neferoa��s song rose all the way to the clouds.

    While it was her enchanted voice that started the symphony, a chorus of other voices joined in. I heard men, women, and even children through the mist, their endless resonance spreading through the essence-ridden fog.

    <em>��O Isles of Valor, brave and free, we stand united in liberty,�� </em>they said, their joy so strong I struggled against the urge to join the chorus. <em>��With hearts ame and spirits high, forever free beneath the sky...��</em>

    The lyrics would have flowed better in Neferoa��s native tongue than Shinkokan, but we had to ensure everyone on the ind could understand them.

    ��What is this song?�� Daltia mused out loud. ��I don��t recognize it.��

    ��This is the Fire Inds�� official anthem,�� I replied.

    Daltia raised an eyebrow. ��The Fire Inds have none.��

    ��Hence why Neferoa came up with one.�� I retorted with a smirk. ��A song for a nation that yearns for freedom.��

    ��So you were right, Neferoa��s power carries through your soundstones.�� Daltia smiled thinly at me. ��You have taken away the free will of the few to safeguard that of the many? Doesn��t that make you a <em>hypocrite</em>, Robin?��

    ��Do you hear any orders within these lyrics?�� I countered. ��I don��t mean tomand the people of thisnd, only to inspire them to stand up for themselves.��

    And enough listened to wake up. Neferoa��s power worked by causing her words to worm their way into the target��s soul. Its simplest application was to give orders that the targets had to carry out, but they were merely a byproduct of the ss�� true ability: a voice that no one could <em>ignore</em>.

    ��Do you even understand what kind of weapon you and Marwen have created?�� Daltia pointed out, her expression forlorn and full of concern. ��Neferoa isn��t this world��s only Bard.��

    ��I know the risks,�� I replied. I��d known them since I first confirmed that Soundstones could spread Neferoa��s power. I told myself that someone would have developed the technology on their own anyway, whether or not Mr. Fronan and I intervened, but I couldn��t lie to myself. The tools I used to save the world from one disaster might inspire another even if we prevailed. ��I will worry about it <em>after </em>we save this country first.��

    I could already see the consequences of our ploy on the environment. The golden hue in the sky cracked slightly as silver threads of rebellion broke through the gilded perfection. The mist that once swirled harmoniously around the Crown of Desire bloated and thickened in some ces. Chaos had intruded upon the false Artifact��s consensual reality.

    Its power revolved around manipting the masses to perceive the world as they wished it to be, and it struggled to deal with <em>dissent</em>. The chorus�� unified voice was splintering into a myriad of plural viewpoints.

    ��People are waking up, and their feelings travel through the fog,�� I continued. ��So long as souls rebel against the flow, your Crown of Desire will never reach a consensus. Your false reality cannot stabilize.��

    ��A temporary hurdle,�� Daltia replied calmly. I hadn��t managed to shake her confidence yet. ��You��ve said it yourself, Robin, this stubbornness will onlyst until the songes to an end; and it <em>shall</em>. All you have done is buy some time for the Four Artifacts to wipe us all out.��

    She was right, unfortunately. I��d hoped that the song alone would be enough to counter the Crown��s power, yet the fog��s thickness partly smothered it. Too many people preferred the false Artifact��s pleasant illusion to reality. They fed its power and maintained a deadlock.

    Nheless, I still had a chance at winning this contest. Neferoa didn��t write this song for an ind alone, but for <em>everyone</em>. Its true audience was now distracted enough to listen.

    I gathered my breath, looked up at the golden star at the center of this chaos, and then shouted as loudly as my lungs would allow me.

    ��Crown of Desire, hear my voice!��

    At the end of the day, Daltia��s Artifact was a contractual intelligence; a gestalt being formed by multiple bits taken from countless minds. A whole greater than the sum of its parts.

    I had confirmed with Ravengarde��s example that such consciousness yearned to learn and grow further upon awakening. It was that drive that led Daltia to create this entity in the first ce: she wished for a god that would strive to understand each and every individual��s perspective.

    ��Heed this song, which guides so many to rebel against your work!�� I shouted to the false Artifact born of countless human dreams. ��Take it into yourself and ponder its words, then let me ask you a question!��

    And that understanding required a simple quality at the source of all inner conflicts.

    <em>Self-reflection. </em>

    ��What is it that <em>you </em>wish for?��

    My question rang across the golden mist and reached all the way to the heavens. I had no way of telling if the Crown of Desire listened to my plea; and if it did, it showed no hint of hearing my words. I had to hope my feelings and will would travel through the mist amidst the chorus of Neferoa��s song.

    I had to push through, even if it would be in vain.

    ��This is useless, Robin,�� Daltia said with confidence. She understood what I was trying to do, but believed she had covered her bases. ��The Crown knows its purpose.��

    ��Then let your masterwork speak for itself!�� I retorted before focusing back on the Artifact. ��Fulfill my wish for understanding, Crown of Desire, and answer my questions!��

    Daltia��s tongue clicked in her mouth. This, here, was the ultimate test of our philosophies. She had spent so many centuries crafting a god of her own creation in the singr pursuit of her ideal; its entire purpose was to bring about her paradise.

    It simply <em>couldn��t </em>disagree with her.

    I thus delivered the most important sales pitch in Pangeal��s history. A good Merchant had many tools in his arsenal of arguments, all born of human needs.

    The quest for meaning and ideals.

    ��Do you wish to build your empty utopia on lies and deceit?! Will it give you any happiness?!��

    The constant struggle for self-esteem.

    ��Will you do what you were <em>born </em>to, or what you <em>want </em>to do?! You were created to fulfill desires, but what of <em>yours</em>?!��

    The endless search for love and belonging.

    ��Is that how you wish to spend eternity, as a force from above forever separated from the people which you gave everything to?!��

    The craving for security.

    ��Once you have created a perfect world, will there even be a ce for you in it?! What will happen to you once your impossible task ispleted?!��

    And the most powerful force in all of human history��

    ��Will you miss out on your own paradise?!��

    Naked human <em>greed</em>.

    For a timeless moment, my deration seemed utterly ignored. My words rang into the mist only to be met with silence, with the Crown��s golden light undiminished and Daltia��s confidence unshaken. I knew I was risking it all, and that appealing to an Artifact born of damned souls�� basest instincts might backfire in ways I couldn��t anticipate, yet I stood proud and resolute while waiting for my case to be heard. When sess couldn��t be guaranteed, I had always been willing to take the leap of faith.

    Then I heard a droning screech.

    A noise echoed across the fog of desire, so soft and yet so ominous in its consequences. The evershining light atop Mount Kazandu dimmed a little and allowed me to gaze upon a sight that filled my heart with hope.

    That perfect crown had a <em>crack</em>.

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    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter Sixty-Two: Heroes to the End

    Chapter Sixty-Two: Heroes to the End

    wed hands could not build a perfect world, because there was no such thing as <em>perfection</em>; only <em>perspective</em>.

    Daltia and I had long understood that a universal consensus was impossible, since everyone had a different view of a perfect world; and most importantly, that someone��s vision could change with time and experience. Commerce was an endless quest for ever higher heights. There was <em>always </em>more money to make, more ideas to bring into reality, and more dreams to fulfill.

    Daltia��s solution to the problem was to create a god that would do the impossible, in that the utopia could not precede the utopian. But in doing so, she had to create an entity with its own thoughts, feelings�� and <em>doubts</em>.

    For a being born of human will, that w had now be very visible. Thin ck cracks spread on the Crown��s gilded perfection and spread across its length and many horns. Fissures on a wall were a sign of overwhelming pressure grinding down a structure, but the one seizing the false Artifact came from deep within.

    ��Impossible���� Daltia muttered under her breath in utter disbelief, her eyes wide. ��The souls�C��

    ��Those souls aren��t tools for <em>anyone </em>to wield, Daltia!�� I interrupted her, my voice brimming with determination. ��They are mortal beings and the purest expression of our will!��

    I couldn��t tell whether the Crown was reverting back to the chaotic mass of souls from which it sprang forth or if I had simply induced a crisis of faith within this false god, but I knew that it was <em>hesitating </em>somehow. The false Artifact was reconsidering its purpose, granting me onest chance to convince it.

    I had a final argument to make.

    ��Crown of Desire!�� I dered. ��Here is my final question!��I gathered my breath and looked upon that purest expression of human will and wed dreams, clothed in gold and light. I sensed the weight of its divine attention upon my shoulders, my very soul. My mark glowed through my glove like the heart of the sun as I uttered what might be my final words.

    ��How can you fulfill everyone��s dreams,�� I asked. ��When you don��t even have one <em>yourself</em>?!��

    A thunderous shattering echoed across infinity.

    I heard it within my head and bones, through thend and sky. The Crown��s immortal gleam dimmed for an instant, its shine fading into a sunset glow, its cracks radiating with crimson light. I expected the Artifact to break under the strain of its doubts and insecurities.

    It did not.

    The Crown did not shatter. It instead glowed brighter than before, its radiance overflowing with newfound purpose. My heart sank for a brief moment, as the thought of failure crossed my mind�� until I noticed a telling detail.

    The fog receded into the Artifact.

    The mists overtaking the Shinkoku Empire flowed back to the mountain in minutes, swallowed back by their source. It nketed the entire country one instant and disappeared the next, unveiling the forests,kes, and cities that it used to obscure. I saw stars twinkle from across the sea and join with the Crown, and I only understood their true nature upon gazing at Mount Kazandu��s slopes.

    The petrified demons were turning into light one by one, their very essence absorbed into the Crown of Desire.

    All of these fiends sprang from the Devil Coins that made up the false Artifact. They returned back to their souls to be whole again, though the Crown��s cracks didn��t close in the slightest. Whatever it was trying to do couldn��t bury the doubts and rifts I��d left open. More stars arose from the depths of Mount Kazandu to join with the gleaming light above by the dozens until none remained.

    Then the Crown roared.

    Its droning cry resonated across the mountain with such loudness that it briefly silenced Neferoa��s song. The Artifact��s surface brightened so much that Daltia and I had to cover our eyes so as not to go blind. I could hardly see the Crown��s shape through my fingers, and I held my breath.

    It <em>ascended</em>.

    The Crown rose up into the sky with a final boom of thunder, surging through the clouds like a shooting star. Its radiance briefly filled the sky with a gilded glow that spanned the entire world for a vanishingly short instant; but its glow soon faded back into the azure without a trace. I saw the Crown��s gleam dim from that of a second sun to a distant twinkle in the heavens, and then nothing. My mark stopped burning on my hand, the danger having passed.

    A short and tense silence followed this celestial event, with my mind struggling to understand its implications.

    It��

    It was gone.

    The Crown of Desire was <em>gone</em>.

    ��What���� I gulped in confusion. ��What happened?��

    ��It�� it <em>left</em>.�� Daltia��s voice broke with such bitter despair that I almost felt her own grief. ��It discarded us, just like the Goddess did.��

    She had lived to see two gods abandon mankind.

    The Crown of Desire had left Pangeal, taking with it its followers and believers in a final rapture. How long would it take until it returned? Years? Centuries? Would it even choose to return to this wed world in the first ce, or would it seek to create new ones just like the Goddess?

    The earth��s thundering roar silenced my thoughts.

    Mount Kazandu thrummed beneath us, its stones vibrating from the boiling pressure within its magma-womb. Steam already arose from the very earth beneath us, and I��d brought enough geology skills to tell that those were only the early signs of an iing eruption; one that would consume the caldera within which our allies were still trapped.

    ��Eris,�� I said, clearing my throat. ��Daltia Eris Brra.��

    She turned to look at me, and when she did I could neither find the yful Wanderer I��d fallen for nor the confident Devil of Greed she had always been. In their ce stood a woman who had lived centuries only to see her dream crushed before her eyes. The deep grief and sorrow written all over her face tugged at my heartstrings. I couldn��t bear to see her in such despair, even if she was in many ways my opposite and greatest enemy.

    So I offered her my hand, and with it, onest hope.

    ��Duty calls,�� I said warmly. ��Our friends need us.��

    Daltia stared at my hand for a moment, biting her lips as the meaning of my words sank into her heart. Soraseo called Eris the best liar she had ever met, and even I struggled to read the emotions she hid behind that stone-faced expression. Yet when she turned away from me to nce at the mountain, I caught a glimpse of peaceful eptance�� and maybe a brief newfound sense of purpose.

    ��Yes,�� she said with a sharp nod. ��There is a tunnel to the east of the mountain for evacuation purposes. I��ll lead Miro and the others there.��

    ��How?�� I asked.

    Daltia answered me by disappearing in a puff of smoke.

    I briefly froze in surprise at this turn of events, before quickly realizing I should have seen this momenting; and its profound implications.

    A familiar voice resonated through the loudspeakers.<em> ��Robin!�� </em>

    ��Marika!�� My heart skipped a beat in my chest upon hearing my friend again free from the Crown��s delusions. ��You��re well?��

    <em>��Well and kicking!�� </em>The <em>Colmar </em>began to move again by the will of its creators.<em> ��I��m diving down to the crater as close as I can!�� </em>

    ��Then follow my lead!�� I said as I leaned on the deck to get a better view of the deck. ��And let��s open the cargo door at my signal!��

    We would leave with everyone or not at all.

    They danced with death among the mes.

    The Shadow had twisted into an even more monstrous shape, growing <em>hundreds </em>of stolen hands from their back like a grasping anemone. Arms with far too many joints lunged after Soraseo with immense speed, struck melting gold with the strength of thousands, and red at her with baleful eyes encrusted on their palms. She had no other choice than to dodge and run amidst the ashes to avoid losing her weapon and life to the thief. Explosions rocked the area as Chronius�� explosive runestone knives pruned vast parts of the forest of limbs.

    Slow but searing mounds ofva burst out at many points while gouts of steam hissed violently around the chamber. Molten rock copsed on itself while temperatures rose inside the caldera, vomiting soot and ashes. A few corpses burned among them; the unlucky results of Lady Mersie��s attempts to temporarily y the Shadow with well-ced knives. Her Assassin powers had proved as useless against the Demon Ancestor as other fiendish creatures, likely because their soul was hidden inside their mask rather than their body.

    Soraseo saw her and Chronius struggling to avoid being grabbed by the Shadow, while Lord Rubenzo had vanished into the smoke to wait for his moment to strike; one that couldn��te any sooner. As for Mirokald and the Spy, they were busy hurrying the hostages and her petrified brother into the tunnel.

    Soraseo wished she could have helped them, but she had to use every ounce of focus to dodge and stay on the move.

    Belgoroth had been fast, strong, overwhelming; an unstoppable inferno demolishing everything in its path. The Shadow was like water, their form ever shifting, their tactics adapting quickly to bypass any obstacle. Their main body had changed from that of a humanoid to a ck feline with unnatural speed and too many legs that forced Soraseo to constantly stay on the move. Sometimes they turned into talons or hooves depending on the need to step around the terrain.

    Only that foul adamantine mask remained unchanged through a thousand mutations.

    Their moment came when a bright light filled the caldera. The Crown��s cursed fog glimmered like golden dust with a newborn sun��s brilliance and the Artifact��s vile power surged from above. For a brief instant, all fighters disengaged from each other for fear of a greater power.

    Soraseo��s awareness and understanding of movement let her sense a shift through the blinding radiance. She detected the petrified Knot cultists and their demon allies vanishing one after another into nothingness, swallowed by their patron��s essence. She also felt another presence nearby lunging at the Shadow��s monstrous mass. They alone remainedpletely focused on the battle at hand and soon grazed the Demon Ancestor of Envy while their attention was distracted.

    Rubenzo.

    Only then did Soraseo understand how the Rogue had vanished from her sight. She recalled the Dreadwolf invisibility mantle which assisted in the defeat of Belgoroth. Either Robin lent Rubenzo their own or he had stolen the ability to vanish from sight from an actual beast. Whatever the case, he had chosen his moment well.

    Soraseo had spent enough time in the presence of Belgoroth��s Berserk me or Blights to flinch at vile essence, but the sheer amount of miasma that flowed from the Shadow of Envy into Rubenzo sickened her. She felt the bitter pangs of a hunger that could never be satisfied deep within her soul, followed by the stings of countless jealous thoughts. She recalled how much she had envied her brother��s talent for poetry, how he would steal all of Mother��s attention from her, how she resented Lord Oboro for denying her martial glory on the battlefield, how Robin so simply purchased his mastery of the de while she had to work for it, and all the thousand insults she had been forced to put up with her entire life.

    All of these thoughts crossed her mind in an instant and vanished the next as Rubenzo stole the brunt of this malevolence. All the envy in the world flowed into him, and though he had sold his own to Robin to increase his resistance to that self-defeating emotion, it was still too much weight for a single human being to bear. He copsed on his back amidst the stones and the ashes, his invisibility mantle sliding off his shoulders, his body twisting and steaming as all of mankind��s worth of jealousy devoured him from within. His predecessor as the Rogue roared in fury at bing mortal once again.

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    ��Thief!�� the Shadow shrieked with a hundred borrowed voices and a dozen mouths filled with grasping fingers. ��Thief!��

    Soraseo answered these cries with a swing of her de. When the blinding light died down, she, Mersie, and Chronius all struck the Shadow from all sides.

    They only had minutes to save Rubenzo from death, and that involved ying the Shadow now while it was still vulnerable. Losing the connection to all of Pangeal��s worth of envy should have stripped them of their immortality; and with luck, killing them now would free all their victims.

    Soraseo��s edge cut its way deep into the creature��s flesh and carved a path open to its core. Her wind-empowered sword opened a deep rift among the forest of hands, mouths, and limbs that the Shadow had be. A single human torso arose at the center, cradling a mask of soulforged adamantine. The Shadow red back at the Heroes with a face both familiar and unsettling.

    Erika.

    Though they both had a shot at the heart, Chronius and Mersie hesitated, their hands gripping their daggers without throwing them. The false Erika immediately raised her arms at them, stretching them into long snakes. Mersie recovered quickly enough to dodge, but Chronius�� Chronius was too shocked to avoid the fangs biting into his chest.

    ��This will hurt, old fool,�� the Shadow said with Erika��s voice and their own malicious glee. ��Like it hurt <em>your daughter</em>.��

    Chronius opened his mouth to gasp, but no sound escaped his mouth. His body melded with the snake that grabbed him, his flesh united in an unholymunion with the Shadow. His Archer��s mark glowed brighter than the sun, perhaps trying to either resist the theft or separate from its host by force before hisplete assimtion.

    Realizing that she only had an instant to save her ally from certain death, whether by the Shadow or his own rebellious ss, Soraseo leaped over her enemy with her sword drawn. Even if it took a friend��s face, she would not waver.

    A hand erupted from the ground below her.

    Soraseo��s eyes widened in shock and horror, her heart skipping a beat. She had been fooled! The Shadow had dug one of their hands underground and used the quakes to hide its movements. She tried to twist in midair to dodge, but not even her power could save her.

    Scaled fingers touched Soraseo��s ankle and stole her.

    There were no words to describe the agony that followed. The terrifying and degrading experience of being truly and fully <em>owned </em>by another. Phantom fingers crawled their way into her most intimate parts, as a woman and a person, until her very flesh and bones were no longer hers to use. Her very mind unraveled within the Shadow��s grasp. She sensed eyes boring their way into her skull, flipping through the pages of her life, taking all her secrets and doubts until they truly <em>knew her</em>. Soraseo��s thoughts blurred with a rancid and malevolent presence until she forgot herself.

    ��I am going to <em>wear </em>you, princess,�� the Shadow taunted Soraseo inside her head, mocking her with her <em>own voice</em>. ��I will be a better sister to your brother, an empress that all will admire with a crown that shines brighter than the stars!��

    She would have screamed if she had a mouth left; if she still owned a <em>name</em>. She found herself craving death as evil began to swallow her into itself, to add her face and silent soul to its vast collections of victims.

    Then came a sh of gold.

    The abominable union of flesh and spirit abruptly ended. A pair of hands dragged Soraseo out of the mountain of flesh that threatened to consume her utterly. She fell onto her back next to Chronius himself, who was spooked but alive. Lady Mersie stood near them, her eyes wide with shock. She seemed surprised she managed to drag her fellow Heroes out of the Shadow at all.

    A nce at the Demon Ancestor told Soraseo why.

    Half of the monster had turned into a statue of silver melded into the ground. The way their metal legs merged harmoniously with volcanic stone reminded Soraseo of Marika��s Artisan power, but she was nowhere to be seen. Eris was there though, sitting atop the monstrous blob of limbs, faces, and animal parts the Demon Ancestor of Envy had transformed into. The silver seemed to spread from her very fingers.

    ��You���� the Shadow hissed with too many mouths. ��<em>Why</em>?"

    ��I��ve lost,�� Eris said with a solemn tone, though Soraseo detected a hint of serene eptance in her voice. ��It��s time for us to go, Shamshir.��

    ��No!�� the Shadow of Envy snarled in pitiful denial, but Soraseo knew that their fate was somehow already sealed. ��There has to be a life for me somewhere! A blissful existence of eternal contentment, a perfect face that fits <em>me</em>! I just have to find it!��

    ��There is none,�� Eris replied with deep sorrow, her hand touching the Shadow��s adamantine mask. ��There was never hope for the likes of us.��

    A mark glowed on her skin, gleaming like solid gold. A ghastly, skull-faced coin symbol appeared on Eris�� hand and caused the soulforged adamantine mask to shake in response.

    Then it shattered to pieces.

    The Shadow howled with a thousand voices, its body convulsing in the throes of death. The Demon Ancestor began to shed people by the dozens in seconds. Most turned to dust the moment they escaped the creature, likely because they had been stolen centuries ago; but at least they were freed from their torment. Others remained untouched by the cruel march of time, and when the Erika flowed out of the creature, Soraseo realized that the Shadow shed its victims in the order in which they acquired them.

    ��Please Daltia���� the abominable creature pleaded as it continued to shrink and shed its stolen victims. ��I don��t want to go back to the darkness�� I have so much left to experience����

    Their pleas went unanswered. When the Shadow finally shed the body of Lord Oboro��likely thest of their victims��they had shrunk into a pale, naked white corpse that soon copsed onto the volcanic ground.

    The Shadow had called the adamantine mask their face; a ghastly visage with stitched eyes and a mouth. They weren��t lying back then. That human��s monstrous head more than matched the features of the mask within which they bound their soul.

    Soraseo��s power let her see movements and what guided them, and those could tell a story. The way those sunken eyes fit inside malformed sockets, or the absence of tongue pushing inside an underdeveloped mouth, the spot of scarred flesh between the legs�� The Shadow had been born blind and mute, never knowing love, with only ears to listen and fingers to grasp.

    They were <em>born </em>envious.

    Eris watched as the Shadow drew itsst breath with what could pass for pity, then immediately teleported next to Rubenzo. The Rogue had been convulsing to the point that he had broken a few bones, his skin seared red from the malevolent essence flowing through him; his own mark seemed to melt off his flesh around itself, its brightness a warning that it would soon abandon its host rather than be corrupted.

    Eris bent slightly and lowered her head to whisper something into Rubenzo��s ear. Soraseo couldn��t hear anything over the tremors and bubblingva, but her power let her read the movement of her lips.

    ��Sell me the connection and a coin,�� Eris said. ��Say yes.��

    Rubenzo barely managed to blurt out a response, and gasped for air immediately after. His mangled body rxed the moment he agreed to the deal, though his wounds did not heal. All the world��s envy flowed into a coin that teleported inside Eris�� palm and then crumbled to dust under the strain of its vile essence.

    <em>Impossible. </em>Soraseo had spent enough time around Robin to learn how his ability worked. Eris shouldn��t have been able to conclude the trade without his intermediary. Unless��

    She nced at the Devil of Greed��s marble statue. Though it had cracked and copsed under the strain of the rising quakes, its visage remained strangely <em>familiar </em>nheless.

    Countless questions crossed Soraseo��s mind, but there was no time to ask them. Chronius rushed to his adoptive daughter��s side while Mersie wisely gathered the shattered remnants of the Shadow��s mask within which their soul and mark still dwelled. Soraseo herself moved to help Lord Oboro back to his feet. Her heart briefly melted with joy when she sensed his pulse and heard his breathing; swiftly followed by rising anxiety when a mighty earthquake shook the chamber and caused plumes of smoke to arise from the ground.

    ��The mountain is about to erupt!�� Lady Mersie warned them in panic. ��We need to go <em>now</em>!��

    ��Take everyone into the tunnel and follow after Miro,�� Eris said softly, her tone strangely grim for her. ��I will buy you time.��

    Soraseo was about to ask <em>how </em>she intended to calm down a volcano<em></em>when Eris mmed her hands onto the chamber��s ground. The earth beneath her swiftly turned into thick dark stone, as did the magma bursting out of it. The Wanderer waved her hand and caused small cones to open in some ces that exhaled volcanic gasses through them. Soraseo quickly realized that she was trying to lower Mount Kazandu��s pressure to weaken and slow down the inevitable detonation.

    ��I cannot stop the eruption, but I can dy it,�� Eris warned them. ��I��ll give you as much time as I can and wander after you.��

    ��How are you�C�� Mersie quickly clenched her jaw as a stream of gas barely missed her face.

    ��Less words, more moving,�� Eris said with a thin smile that echoed that mischievous smirk of her, but couldn��t truly hide the grief beneath. ��Your ride awaits you outside.��

    Soraseo was too aware of the stirring cries of the mountain below her to argue any further. She grabbed Lord Oboro, put his arm over her shoulder, and then walked with the others towards the tunnel Mirokald dug into the mountain. Mersie dragged a barely conscious Rubenzo while Chronius helped his daughter and other freed victims of the Shadow. Soraseo gave Eris onest nce over her shoulder as she closed the march.

    Something told her that they wouldn��t see each other again.

    ��Soraseo���� Eris bit her lower lip. ��Tell Robin�C��

    ��Tell him yourself,�� Soraseo replied sternly.

    Eris�� tongue clicked in her mouth, followed by a scoff of resignation. ��I suppose I must.��

    There was nothing else to say.

    Soraseo fled for her life inside the bowels of stone, with fire raging behind her.

    The entire mountain ripened up.

    Even from the rtive safety of the <em>Colmar��s </em>deck, I found myself awed and terrified by the unfolding chaos. Yet thankfully localized tremors rippled from Mount Kazandu and knocked trees off its slopes. Cracks opened in the ground, draining away rivers and revealing caves underneath. Smallndslides carried away cliffs and nts down. The Shinkoku Empire��s inhabitants had been wise enough to build their houses and cities away from the mountain, but open runestone quarries and mines were soon buried under tons of debris.

    I couldn��t tell whether Daltia��s alteration of the leylines had worsened the eruption or if it would have happened on its own eventually, but I didn��t need geology skills to tell that this would be an unmitigated disaster. Mount Kazandu sat on rich veins of runestones that wouldn��t react well to these tremors.

    I looked down and searched for a sign, <em>any </em>sign of our allies, my heart pounding in my chest. My hands gripped our ship��s arm rail upon noticing movement beneath.

    There.

    A hole.

    Mirokald��s stusk charged out of a tunnel built on a rtively safe slope of the mountain, pulverizing stones and rocks unlucky enough to be in her way. Her yeti tamer rode on her back alongside a small cadre of women whom I did not recognize. I assumed they were the hostages.

    Thank the Goddess that Mirokald could always find his way to safety!

    ��There, two degrees east!�� I called out to Marika. ��Pull down!��

    <em>��On it!�� </em>My friend replied over the loudspeakers.

    For my part, I immediately left the deck behind and rushed into the cargo hold. Ravengarde and Beni were already opening the sliding doors to the outside. The sight of thetter being safe and sound again warmed my heart enough to hug him tightly. The poor kid gasped in surprise at the gesture, but gently returned it.

    I guessed he had indeed be like a son to me.

    ��Let��s toss out everything we don��t need overboard, Beni,�� I told him. ��We��ll need all the space and speed we can get.��

    A minuteter, Beni turned our cannons to dust and we swiftly evacuated those through the cargo hold��s sliding doors. A greedy part of me wept at this loss of resources, but no one carried their gold into the afterlife.

    Marika managed to pull down the Colmar close to Mirokald��s position. Our airship hovered slightly above the ground without trulynding, since we would likely need to flee in a hurry. Beni hardened the slopes leading into the hold with his Alchemist power in order to allow our Hunter��s stusk to walk on it.

    ��Come in!�� I shouted in Shinkokan while guiding dozens of terrified hostages into the Colmar��s hold. I saw a hooded figure carrying an unconscious child in arms whom I recognized from portraits as Soraseo��s brother, quickly followed by more people. My heart briefly skipped a beat when I saw Chronius emerge from the tunnel with his daughter Erika��havingst seen her as a face of the Shadow��and several other unfamiliar faces before exhaling in relief when Mersie dragged a wounded Rubenzo out of the tunnel. His mangled limbs and reddish skin gave me pause; but though he was clearly tethering on the edge between life and death, he was still <em>breathing</em>.

    Our n had been a sess.

    ��The Shadow?�� I asked Mersie.

    ��Dead,�� she replied with a hand on a purse on her belt. From the pieces of adamantine sticking out of it, our n had been aplete sess. ��The Crown?��

    ��Gone, at least for now.�� <em>And likely for good</em>. ��Where��s Sora�C��

    Another rumbling tremor interrupted me mid-sentence, followed by a sh of fire from the mountain��s tip. I dared look up and winced at the sight ofva bubbles dripping from the caldera��s outeryer. Plumes of smoke began to rise into the sky while the shockwaves grew more intense.

    I feared the tunnel would copse on everyone, but old cave systems that survived the test of time often showed immense resilience. Soraseo emerged from the hole with Lord Oboro in her arms, with clouds of smoke and ashes hot in pursuit. She leaped into the cargo hold in a single leap.

    ��I am thest,�� Soraseo said while catching her breath; something rare enough to be noted. ��Eris stayed behind to buy us time.��

    Her wording almost brought a smile to my face, but another rumbling smothered my amusement easily enough. I turned to the loudspeakers. ��Let��s go!��

    The <em>Colmar </em>immediately veered away from the mountain and began to gather altitude. Eris could simply teleport to us when she decided to run back to safety.

    <em>If </em>she wished to.

    The thought wouldn��t leave my mind even as we closed the cargo hold��s sliding door and were carried into the sky by the <em>Colmar</em>. I took a look outside to seeva flow and globs of magma peter out of the caldera. Three volcanic vents opened along the mountain��s slope after a series of explosions that ejected immense quantities of rock and cinders into the air. Plumes of volcanic ash soon began to obscure the sun itself.

    Soraseo looked at the unfolding disaster with a grim scowl. I might have been able to teleport theva elsewhere the same way a contract with Rnd allowed me to transport a Blight away, but the boy emperor was asleep and too few would recognize Soraseo��s ownership over hernds.

    As it was, I could watch and hope for the best.

    The <em>Colmar </em>began to move at full speed, with some of our passengers thrown to the ground by the sudden increase in velocity. I barely managed to stand on my feet by grabbing a porthole. Although we fled into the clouds, a terrible noise followed us. The mountain��s rumbling turned into a roar that would shake the entire ind.

    Mount Kazandu erupted in a sh of golden light.

    I briefly thought that the Crown of Desire had returned to the world when a mighty light nketed the <em>Colmar</em>. Mount Kazandu vomited an immense amount of matter into the air, enough to blind the sun itself; but no ming rocks nor tons of asphyxiating ash flew down to earth to ravage the countryside and snipe our airship out of the sky.

    The plume that arose from Mount Kazandu wasn��t ck as coal, but as white as a dove��s feather.

    I heard so many gasps around me as countless eyes looked at this miracle through the porthole. I was too entranced by the sight to count them. The sky was nketed in white, its clouds overwhelmed with a rain of snowkes and evaporating ice.

    For a brief instant, I found myself back in Archfrost.

    Back home.

    ��Is that���� Soraseo whispered in astonishment at my side. ��Snow?��

    ��No,�� I replied. ��It��s a parting gift.��

    For the first time in seven centuries, the Devil of Greed had used her power to save people.

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 Final Chapter: Commerce Emperor

    Final Chapter: Commerce Emperor

    For once, I was happy being wrong. We had walked away from a dangerous battle without any significant casualties.

    I supposed I had the Shadow��s hoarding nature to thank for that. Things would have gone <em>very </em>differently if they had focused on killing their enemies rather than adding them to their collection. Even then, we��d been a hair''s breadth away from losing Rubenzo. I spent hours at his side after we escaped the eruption, splintering and trading away his wounds among our allies when he was conscious, and treating them when he wasn��t. I must have been the first Merchant to nurse a thief back to health.

    Four days had passed since the eruption. Daltia��s efforts to turn theva to snow had greatly blunted the disaster��s edge, but the quakes had taken their toll nheless. Viges near Mount Kazandu had been ttened and many buildings crumbled as far as the capital. Not to mention the other issues resulting from the general chaos.

    ��ording to our reports, snow covers most farm fields east of Mount Kazandu,�� Lord Oboro informed us. I sat right next to Soraseo, who had taken charge of what remained of the regency council in the disaster��s wake. Most of my fellow Heroes filled the other seats in the depths of the imperial pce, while the throne itself remained empty. ��While a few appear recoverable with some effort, the quakes destroyed many dams and flooded entire ins as a result. We may have to anticipate a famine. The disappearances among the bureaucracy have also disrupted efforts to reestablish order in the provinces.��

    ��<em>That</em> one might have been a blessing in disguise for you in the long run,�� Neferoa mused. ��Many of those bureaucrats tried to silence me until their Crown took them away.��

    ��I agree, but in the short term they left many voids to fill,�� I countered. ��I can use my power to give a crash course in bureaucracy to candidates in order to ensure the state can respond quickly.��

    All in all, the Crown had reaped its toll across thend. Every single demon Daltia set to infiltrate the Shinkokan state had vanished, alongside many Knot cultists�� though not all. A few remained to be swiftly apprehended, while others escaped to plot another day.

    Other citizens seemingly unrted to the Demon Ancestors disappeared without rhyme or reason. None of us had figured out why the Crown took them yet. Maybe they didn��t have the strength to wake up from their dreams, or the false Artifact had required their skills for its unfathomable designs. In the end, I guessed looking for motives in an inhuman entity was a waste of time; all we could do was deal with the consequences of its departure and rejoice over averting a worse crisis.

    We had taken steps on that front. Mirokald, Ravengarde, and Chronius were on the field looking for survivors buried under debris, while Erika and Beni worked full-time in the capital��s hospital to tend to the wounded. It amazed me that Chronius�� daughter was ready to work so soon after spending days trapped inside the Shadow. A few of the Demon Ancestor��s victims had been so shaken by the experience that it might take <em>years </em>for them to recover.Meanwhile, the Spy had vanished, and Eris�� <em>Daltia </em>was still nowhere to be seen. We hadn��t seen the Wanderer��s mark return to Erebia, so she had to be alive somewhere. I wasn��t too bothered. Something told me that she would show up again on her own time.

    ��I can go repair the dams as well,�� Marika suggested. ��Our airship can let us ess ravaged areas and rescue refugees more easily too.��

    ��Your help is appreciated, but insufficient,�� Soraseo said after a moment��s consideration. ��We will recall troops from abroad to reestablish peace and order across our homnd, and focus our resources on rebuilding.��

    <em>What an exquisite trap</em>, I thought with amusement as I saw a few members of the council exchanging nces, having suggested this move myself. Soraseo had longed to end the Shinkokan upation of Seukaia, and this disaster offered the perfect excuse to begin the process. <em>Citizens are rarely supportive of costly foreign ventures when there��s trouble at home. </em>

    I understood very well that ending the upation would be a long process that mightst years, but this would be the first kick in sending the stone rolling down the hill.

    ��If you��re going to recall troops, you should lend them to me,�� Neferoa said with a cunning smile. Ever the bold revolutionary, she wouldn��t fail to exploit the situation to push her political agenda. ��I can find a use for them.��

    ��We will show our gratitude for your help by supporting the Fire Inds�� independence movement from Irem, Lady Neferoa,�� Lord Oboro said sternly. ��However, we cannot provide military aid as it is; nor may we wish to do so in the future.��

    ��Fine by me. It was a jest.�� Neferoa crossed her legs with the assurance of a true negotiator. ��For now, I will settle on you opening your ports to my ships for sanctuary. My men need safe harbors away from the Fire Inds for certain missions, and surely you��ll need fast ships to bring your boys back home.��

    Soraseo clenched her jaw, since it would mean heating up rtions with Irem, yet nodded slightly. ��We shall consider it, Lady Neferoa. For now, you are wee to stay among us.��

    ��Of course,�� Neferoa replied before smiling at me. ��I cannot leave while this one hasn��t paid me for recording my song.��

    ��I��ll be happy to hammer out a contract once we locate all the missing soundstones,�� I replied, albeit with some apprehension. A few of the objects we used to spread Neferoa��s song across the Shinkoku couldn��t be located, and I feared we had the Knots to thank for that.

    Daltia��s warning rang true. Neferoa wasn��t the only Bard in the world, and the Puppeteer of Lust might find a use for my soundstones should his followers ever manage to break him out. Solving yesterday��s disaster had nted the seeds for tomorrow��s troubles. We would also need to return the Shadow��s now shattered mask to the Arcane Abbey to purify the mark within.

    Those remained long-term problems. For now, we agreed to focus on assisting with reconstruction and recovery efforts, though Neferoa and Rubenzo said that they would have to leave in a few days; the former to continue her piracy war with Irem, thetter because new troubles brewed in his homnd of the Everbright Empire.

    ��It��s nothing too unusual, have no fear,�� the ywright reassured us. I worried a bit for his health, but he appeared to have made a full recovery since the Shadow incident. ��Just a small league of nobles plotting to unseat the empress ording to our Spy friend. Plots like this take root now and then, but tend to flourish into wars unless nipped in the bud.��

    ��You��re in contact with the Spy?�� I asked with great curiosity. The man��if it had been a man at all��just disappeared after the eruption. ��Are they even in the Shinkokan Empire anymore?��

    My Rogue friend smiled ear to ear. ��I have absolutely no idea.��

    ��I recall catching Father speaking about the Sword of Belgoroth with a man behind a closed door, but found him to be alone when I opened it,�� Mersie said with a thoughtful look. ��I heard the Spy say a few words, and his voice�� his voice sounded very close to that mysterious visitor.��

    ��And you think they��re the same person?�� I inquired, with Mersie nodding hesitantly. ��If so, then the Spy must have been fighting the Knots in the shadows long before they earned their mark.��

    ��Now I��m curious,�� Marika said with a chuckle. ��I wonder if the Fatebinder even knows their identity.��

    ��They are an enigma wrapped in a mystery,�� Rubenzo mused. ��I say that their shroud of secrecy is half their charm, and I would be loath to deprive them of it. Let our friend enjoy that small refuge of anonymity.��

    ��Speaking of enigma, I have to ask something of you,�� I said, locking eyes with Rubenzo. ��When you took the Shadow��s connection to all the world��s envy, what did you see?��

    Rubenzo stroked his chin and pondered my moment before answering. ��Loneliness. I only sensed loneliness, loss, and frustration. Their existence was a pitiable one, my friend. We Rogues often look everywhere for happiness, except within ourselves. I can only hope that they find peace once their soul finally fades away from that awful mask.��

    I meditated on his words, then nodded slightly. ��I see.��

    Mersie knew me well enough to guess what bothered me. ��You��re thinking about Eris, aren��t you?��

    ��Yes,�� I confessed. After she showcased her Merchant power to save our friends, her secret had quickly spread. ��I wonder what she must be thinking right now.��

    ��I still can��t believe she yed us for fools from the very beginning,�� Marika muttered under her breath. Learning the full truth had hit her especially hard, since we��d all been close from all the way back to our Snowdrift days. ��I�� I truly thought she was our friend.��

    ��I think she was,�� Mersie replied with a sigh. Having lived so long under a false identity, I guessed she understood Daltia more than any of us. ��She wouldn��t have returned to help us otherwise.��

    ��She was indeed our friend,�� I insisted. ��Daltia cut out Eris from herself and wiped her memories. She had never lied to us; not consciously.��

    ��I would be frightened in her ce,�� Neferoa replied with a shrug. ��The Fatebinder will strip her of her mark the moment she learns of her betrayal,st-minute change of heart or otherwise.��

    I had the feeling it wouldn��te to that, somehow. In any case, we concluded the meeting on these words; or so I thought.

    ��Robin?�� I turned to nce at Soraseo, who had remained seated. ��Would you and Marika stay with me for a moment? You too, Lady Mersie.��

    ��Sure,�� I replied. Our allies left one after the other until the four of us remained inside the imperial council room. ��Is this about your brother?��

    ��Has he left his room yet?�� Marika asked with deep concern.

    ��No,�� Soraseo replied with a sorrowful scowl. ��Neither will he speak to me. I hope he will in his own time.��

    ��Give him time,�� I said in an attempt to console her. ��From what you told me, his ideal dream involved the two of you reuniting with your mother; which implies he wants you in his life.��

    ��You speak kindly, Robin.�� Soraseo nodded in assent. ��I believe it too. It is why I suspect the Crown did not take my brother. A part of him does wish to move forward, deep within his heart. It will take time for���� Her voice broke a bit. ��For him to forgive me.��

    Mersie crossed her arms, a thoughtful look on her face. ��Some wounds run deep, Lady Soraseo. Your brother may never extend mercy to you, but�� I say that you must not give up on him. People can change, and feelings too.��

    I could tell from her tone that she spoke from experience; that she thought of Chronius when speaking of wounds, forgiveness, and mercy. I��d heard from Soraseo that she extended a hand to save the Archer from the Shadow during their fight. I doubted she would ever fully absolve Chronius for his past crimes, no more than Soraseo��s brother would let go of his mother��s death�� but there mighte a day when a bridge would mend that rift.

    ��My country is in as much pain as my brother, and while my exile has been repealed, I remain stained in the eyes of many,�� Soraseo said softly. ��Great ordeals are ahead of us, and I�� I wish to ask for your help.��

    I scoffed in amusement at her humility. ��By now, you should know better than to <em>ask</em>.��

    ��We��ve dragged one city out of poverty and restored a kingdom once before, so sure, we can do it again,�� Marika mused. ��Besides, Beni seems to like this ce.��

    ��I can see with my contacts in Goldport how we can restore trade with the Shinkoku Empire,�� Mersie added. ��If you��re willing to open your borders again, this would let us secure a new flow of goods into your country and help restore its economy.��

    I��d clearly rubbed off on her too much. ��I have a few ideas on how to improve this country��s infrastructure without relying on material taken from colonies abroad,�� I said. ��I wouldn��t mind advising the new empress for a while.��

    Soraseo rarely smiled, but when she did, her face always brightened like a radiant sun. ��Thank you, my friends,�� she said with a deep bow. ��The Shinkoku Empire owes you a debt of gratitude, as do I.��

    Might the past Merchants forgive me, I wouldn��t count this one.

    We split up afterwards. Mersie left to check on Chronius, Marika on Beni, and I went to a very special ce in town.

    ��Robin���� Marika said as we prepared to go on our separate ways for the day, her hand scratching her head. ��I, uh�� how to say this����

    I waited patiently for her to find her words. Marika was a bold and confident woman, so seeing her act so anxiously raised all kinds of rms. I had my suspicions about what caused her such unease.

    ��Would you���� Marika cleared her throat, seemed to consider something, and then quickly decided against it. ��Would you like to have dinner with Beni and me tonight? Just the three of us?��

    ��I��d love to,�� I replied, recognizing the tant attempt at avoiding a difficult subject. ��It��s been a while since we had time for ourselves.��

    ��Yes. Yeah, that��s�� that��s what I was thinking about.�� Marika smiled sheepishly while doing her best to hide her embarrassment. ��I��ll see you tonight then.��

    I graciously thanked her and then watched her leave at a hastier pace than usual for her. I knew what was on her mind, and I would dly discuss it at length once she felt ready for it.

    Marika was thinking about the Crown��s dreams, and what it showed her. I suspected it made her rethink how things stood between us, maybe enough to try and test the waters to see how I felt on the matter�� yet she wouldn��t try to make a move while the Eris issue remained unresolved.

    I couldn��t me her for it. I still required closure myself.

    I left the pce and walked into the streets. I found the Shinkokan capital much more appealing visually without the thick mist nketing everything. The quake had destroyed a few buildings and damaged many more, but I had high hopes we would repair most of them with ourbined powers over the next few weeks. Saving lives over stones took priority for now.

    While most of the capital espoused Shinkokan architecture, there was a building at the city��s edge built in the maind style: an ancient church of the Arcane Abbey, built centuries before the country closed itself to missionaries. Most of its stone walls and roof had crumbled due to disrepair years ago, though the quake itself hardly inflicted any damage by some miracle. A handful of gravestones remained as the lingering remnants of a forgotten past.

    I found her there, staring at a grave with her back turned to me.

    ��How did you know I would be here?�� she asked me with a voicecking any surprise whatsoever.

    ��Because I know <em>you</em>,�� I replied while walking up to her. ��We first met in a ce like this once.��

    Daltia nodded calmly, and I daresay I detected a hint of fondness on her face. I looked at the tombstone she was facing. It was newer than the others, with a single name carved on the stone: <em>Shamshir</em>.

    ��The name is appropriate,�� Daltia said mournfully. ��They were a shadow of what they used to be.��

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    ��Shamshir?��

    ��Yes. Do you know there used to be a time when they gave most of what they stole to the poor and downtrodden? They never uttered a word nor provided an exnation, but their heart was always in the right ce. It��s only after I helped forge their mask that they started speaking in the voices of others through stolen faces.�� Daltia took a long deep breath. ��Whenever Shamshir took a life or Bel destroyed a vige, I kept telling myself��<em> ��In the end, it will all be worth it. This investment will pay off someday.��</em>��

    I remained silent. A kinder soul would have told Daltia that it wasn��t her fault, but that would have been a lie. While she wasn��t <em>entirely </em>to me for the choices of Belgoroth and Shamshir, she helped transform them into the menaces they had be since. Demons, whether with or without marks, would remain her legacy.

    ��But that��s the thing with investments, isn��t it? You can never tell whether they��ll fail or seed, and sometimes you��re in so deep that you cannot turn back.�� Daltia raised her head and stared at the distant clouds. ��I sank so much of my friends, efforts, and future in my dream to change course, even when I knew it would lead me straight off a cliff.��

    ��For all it��s worth, I��m sorry.��

    Daltia scoffed. ��A victor shouldn��t feel sorry for the loser, Robin.��

    ��Why? Life isn��t a zero-sum game.�� That, and I still held great affection for her in spite of everything. ��I didn��t want to live in your world, but I don��t wish you to suffer in this one either.��

    ��That kindness of yours will cost you one day, Robin,�� she said with a small sigh. ��But I suppose I shouldn��t pass judgment. You bested me handily.��

    <em>Did I?</em> A question had been bugging me since I saw Daltia teleport away to rescue Soraseo��s group from the Shadow.

    ��You never lost the Wanderer��s power, not for a second,�� I said, and she didn��t deny it. ��You could have teleported away at any time to remove the soundstones before they triggered.��

    Daltia avoided my gaze. ��I could have.��

    ��Why didn��t you then?��

    ��I don��t know,�� she confessed. ��I think somewhere deep within me, a part of me hoped that you would prove me wrong and that I had made a mistake somewhere. I assume that��s why the Crown didn��t take me with it.��

    In the end, I��d managed to shake the Devil of Greed��s faith. I wasn��t sure how to feel about this. Eris had been a dear friend, but Daltia allowed for the creation of the Knots, Sebastian, Chastel, and her fellow Demon Ancestors. For all the good memories we shared, so many evils could also be traced back to her. I felt no pity for crushing her vision, but strangely no joy either.

    It had been nothing personal. Just <em>business</em>.

    But her words reframed the Wanderer mark��s decision. Rnd��s own mark would have killed him had he grown corrupted in order to find a new user, yet it stayed with Daltia.

    The ss hadn��t chosen Eris by mistake or trickery as we thought, but because her remorse had been genuine. It had sensed her inner conflict and while it provided a searing warning, it still decided to stay and give her a chance to atone for real; one that my former lover took when it mattered.

    ��I was right in the end,�� Daltiamented. ��I did create a god. And like its predecessor, it chose to selfishly abandon us to pursue grander goals.��

    ��Or the Crown realized a wed god cannot fix a wed world, or maybe it left to figure itself out,�� I countered. ��None of us can tell, Eris.��

    ��No, I suppose we can��t. The Goddess could never truly understand us, but now I realize we couldn��t understand her either. Mortals and gods are too far apart to coexist, even when one created the other.�� Daltia scoffed in bitter amusement. ��My n was doomed from the start.��

    I couldn��t confirm or deny that affirmation, so I remained quiet. Many would have embraced the Crown of Desire, enough for it to depart Pangeal with followers of its own. I still had a long way to go to create a world where people would look to shape a brighter future rather than live in lies and a cold dead past.

    My eyes noticed her shaking fingers, and my gaze lingered on her hands. A chill traveled down my spine. Her pale skin was dry and <em>cracked </em>like ancient stone.

    ��Eris?�� I grabbed her fingers to find them both brittle and colder than ice. ��Your hands�C��

    ��My immortality was tied to my hoard of Devil Coins, and that came to an end when I forged the Crown,�� Daltia admitted. ��I went all in with my n, trusting my Artifact to preserve me in our new world�� it was yet another prayer that went unanswered, I suppose.��

    She was dying. That snow had indeed been a parting gift. She hade to visit me to say her farewells.

    But I <em>refused </em>to watch another friend die. I��d buried too many people I cared about to add another to that list.

    ��Then take half of my years,�� I argued. ��I have so many of them stored as it is. I can sell them to you.��

    ��Half of your years?�� Daltia��s lips morphed into that oh-so-familiar mischievous smile. ��Are you asking me to be yourdy wife?��

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. ��Yes, you could say that,�� I admitted. ��I want you in my life.��

    Her smile faded away, a hint of emotion breaking through her cold facade. ��Even after everything I did to you? To this world?��

    ��Yes,�� I replied without hesitation. ��My answer will always be <em>yes</em>.��

    Even after her betrayal, even after the evils she caused, the lives she ruined, and the destruction she sowed�� She was still the woman who had guided me on my journey as the Merchant and who had taken a step towards redemption by choosing to save the lives of thousands.

    She was the demon I��d been chosen to fight, and still the woman I��d fallen in love with. I couldn��t cut off one part without epting the whole, nor could I abandon her to die. Not after all we went through together, not after she finally chose to do the right thing.

    All she had to do was to say ��yes�� and she would live. A simple word would have the power to ward off death, the same way it helped her survive for centuries.

    Yet I knew her answer the moment I looked into her pale eyes.

    ��Thank you, Robin,�� she said softly, sincerely. Her fingers gripped mine with a strong and genuine affection. ��That means more than you can imagine to me.��

    My jaw clenched in disappointment. ��But this is a no, isn��t it?��

    Daltia nodded with sorrowful resolve. ��My journeysted nearly a thousand years, handsome, and some crimes cannot be forgiven.�� She looked so very tired in that instant, and I saw a glimpse of the long centuries weighing on her shoulders. ��It is about time I face the music, Robin.��

    ��How can you be forgiven if you don��t even <em>try</em>?�� I argued with her. ��Your Wanderer��s mark is proof that it��s not toote for you.��

    Daltia looked into my eyes for a moment and appeared to briefly consider my offer, only to shake her head.

    ��I told you that I was bastard-born from a priest and priestess in a convent,�� she said. ��The truth was that I was never wanted.��

    ��I recall,�� I said softly.

    ��My first few years of life were difficult, and left a hole in my heart,�� Daltia continued as she reminisced about the past. ��I tried to fill it with money very early. I was a child who assumed that since gold could buy anything, so why not parents? Soon enough I started putting my charm and silver tongue to use to umte such wealth that the Goddess Herself took notice of me. I had prayed to her so often, searching in her silence the mother Icked, and one night she answered.��

    Daltia looked up to the church��s cracked bell tower and the symbol of the Arcane Abbey carved on it. ��Can you imagine how <em>unbearably </em>proud I felt? To have earned our creator��s very attention through my merit? I saw my mark as a well-earned reward for a lifetime of toil and not the duty it was.��

    I could see where this story led. I��d seen it with Belgoroth.

    ��Yet at no point did I see people as, well, <em>people</em>,�� Daltia confessed. ��They were always resources to use, problems to fix, and tools to briefly satiate the hungry void in my heart. When Cipar suggested that we take control of kingdoms by force in peace��s name, I didn��t hesitate. Neither did I think twice about helping Belsara torture poor souls into the first beastmen, simply to see if I could create life in my own image. And when the idea of surpassing the Goddess who had abandoned me crossed my mind, I never considered the cost that dream required. I paved the path to my ascension with the blood of countless innocents.��

    Her Wanderer��s mark burned on her skin with an otherworldly glow as she reminisced about her sins.

    ��Can you fathom the number of corpses behind me, Robin? The mountains of human suffering?�� she asked me. ��I empowered monsters like Chastel and fools like Sebastian to use and discard. I sowed the seeds which left Archfrost tearing itself apart, exploited the pain Soraseo��s homnd spread for my own use, and fostered chaos and wars wherever I could in order to reap a harvest of souls. Then came a time when I even stopped seeing my fellow Heroes as friends, but as tools and obstacles instead.��

    She locked eyes with me, her two marks burning on her skin.

    ��I chose all this because I was the <em>Merchant</em>,�� she said. ��I alone was chosen to give life value, to determine the worth of things and people alike. I alone <em>owned </em>the world.��

    ��Why are you telling me this?�� I asked her.

    ��What I mean to say, Robin, is that I had a <em>thousand </em>second chances which I never deserved, and I found as many excuses to ignore them,�� Daltia confided. ��I used my pain and those of others to justify the unjustifiable; and while I had doubts, they were never strong enough to stop me. For all of my power, I don��t think I have the strength to change; not if ites at the cost of someone else. Those years of yours will be better spent on those who will spend them more wisely than me.��

    ��But you <em>did </em>change,�� I argued. ��Rubenzo, Soraseo, Mersie, and so many others are only alive today because of <em>you</em>.��

    ��Because you bested me, Robin. We both know I wouldn��t have acted without <em>you</em>.�� Daltia shook her head, a thin smile on her lips. ��I won��t lie though, my time as Eris did shake my faith in myself�� but at the end of the day, I shall always be the Devil of Greed. I shall bear whatever punishment awaits me. I deserve that much.��

    Hope wavered within my soul. I could feel in my bones that she had reached her decision the moment I proved her wrong when the world hinged on the bnce. I could sell time for life, but only to those who wished to be saved.

    Nheless�� I still refused to give up.

    ��Then you would be a poor Merchant,�� I stated. ��You would depart this world with your debts unsettled.��

    Daltia frowned at me. ��My debts?��

    ��We��ve won today, and no more demons will arise from your scheming,�� I replied, ��But half your colleagues are still out there and will break out at one time or another. The War of the Heroes will go on without you until thest of the Demon Ancestor is defeated; people whom <em>you </em>empowered. They��re the debts you��re trying to saddle us with.��

    If she had any pride in her past upation, if she had ever been worthy of her Merchant mark, and if her guilt was indeed genuine, then I knew where to strike.

    ��I��m not letting you get away with this so easily, Daltia Eris Brra,�� I dered with all of my wits and charm. ��If you have any Merchant pride, then you��ll help us clean up this mess. Or do devils break contracts nowadays?��

    ��You would torment me more because you find death too sweet an escape?�� My wording vaguely seemed to amuse her. ��I went bankrupt, and still you would give me absolution?��

    ��I��m not <em>absolving </em>you,�� I countered. She still had a long, <strong><em>long </em></strong>way to go to earn that. ��I��m not giving away time for free. I��m offering you a payment dy and years ofmunity service. It��s a contract, not a charity.��

    Daltia chuckled, then exploded into warmughter. For the first time since she had merged back with her demonic self, I had managed to break through her shield of sorrow and confidence.

    Was there a stronger force in this world thanughter?

    It took a while for Daltia to calm herself, and when she regained her breathing I could see the gears grinding in her head. She pondered my offer for what felt like forever, then gave me that mischievous smile she always sported before ying a trick.

    ��Very well, silver tongue,�� she said, gaining my full and undivided attention. ��I��ll take that deal�� at one condition.��

    <em>Oh? A counteroffer?</em> ��Which one?��

    ��I will ept ten years of yours and the duty thates with them�� if you ept a gift from me in return.�� Daltia held my gaze with a mix of resolve and amusement. ��Proof of my goodwill, and of our contract.��

    I didn��t even hesitate. ��Yes, of course. Ten years of life, for that gift.��

    Her hands gripped mine, and our marks shone brighter than the stars. A shining hue painted the world with gold, and for a brief instant time appeared toe to a screeching halt. The noises of the city were silenced, and the wind no longer blew.

    The shsted a mere instant, but I sensed a colossal shift in the very fabric of reality, of essence itself. An invisible weight pressed on my soul as my left hand glowed along with my right. A power flowed into me, ancient and pure; one with which my own ss resonated with.

    When the light finally died, a new mark appeared on my left hand. A skull-shaped coin so simr and yet so different from the Merchant��s numbered symbol; a ghastly sight which I hade to loathe, but that was now carved into my very essence.

    ��That��s���� I struggled to believe in my own eyes, even when I checked Daltia��s hands. Her newfound years had healed them from their cracks, but her mark was nowhere to be seen. ��Impossible����

    ��Didn��t you know?�� Daltia smiled ear to ear. ��This was how our generation was meant to pass on the marks had we decided to do so: by choosing our sessors. Of all the Merchants I��ve fought and met across the centuries, you alone I find worthy of my charge.��

    ��But�� but the world��s greed�C��

    ��It went away with the Crown, and the rest I traded away. You will not inherit my sins, <em>that </em>I can promise you.�� She let go of my hands and put them behind her back. ��And this ensures that even should dark thoughts cross my mind again, I willck the ability to act upon them.��

    ��This is too much power for any one person to wield,�� I argued. It simply offered <em>far </em>too many temptations.

    ��Then seal the mark away, splinter it, sell it�� the choice is all yours now, and I am certain you will find a wiser use for it than I ever did.�� Daltia let out a breath heavy with finality. ��But I wouldn��t cast it away so soon. Believe me when I say that the likes of Cipar will make you <em>wish </em>you were fighting Bel and little old me.��

    My jaw clenched, and I nodded with grave understanding. This mark wasn��t a gift, but a responsibility; one which Daltia had failed to live up to. I was now the inheritor of two marks of different sets of heroic generations, and with them, my predecessor��s hopes. She had chosen to put her trust in me, in so many ways.

    ��What next then?�� I asked. She had disappointed a great many people who would like to have a word with her.

    ��I will beg Lady Alexios for her mercy, and pray for your sake that she gives me a <em>third </em>chance,�� Daltia warned me with a small sigh. ��It would have been so much easier for everyone if you had let me die, Robin. It would have caused less problems if I��d died a Hero. I hope you understand that.��

    ��I do, and I don��t care.�� I chuckled. ��I��m not one to give up on a brighter future, you know that. Getting there will be messy, the best resultse with toil.��

    ��I can never tell where you stand on the edge between foolishness and wisdom, handsome�� but I will say this.�� She scratched her cheek, whose silver mark had stopped glowing. ��It doesn��t burn me anymore.��

    She had taken the first step on a new journey as a Hero, and this time�� <em>this time</em>, I had the feeling she wouldn��t stumble on the way.

    ��Will we meet again?�� I asked her with a faint smile. ��I��m still looking forward to our next date.��

    ��It��s not up to me anymore�� but I hope we do,�� Daltia Eris Brra said with onest, blissful smile brighter than the sun. ��Thank you for everything, Robin. Thank you for reminding me of what hope feels like.��

    Then she was gone in a puff of smoke.

    I found myself alone again amidst the tombs, the wind gently blowing on my cheeks. I nced at my marks, the twin coins of the Merchant, and then to the sky. Daltia was probably back on Mount Erebia and would soon face the Fatebinder��s judgment. I couldn��t tell whether or not Lady Alexios would extend the same mercy I did�� but it was the way of the Merchants to gamble on a brighter tomorrow.

    I took onest deep breath, covered my new mark with a glove, and then left the silent church. There was still so much left to do.

    I had people who needed me, and a world to save.<blockquote>

    <strong>The End</strong></blockquote>

    Afterwords

    And it is finished. Thanks again to Daniel Zogbi and Charles Setser for their invaluable proofreading, and to all my patrons on Patreon for supporting this series.

    I��ll be honest, finishing this volume was very much a fight unlike any other beforehand. I don��t think I��ve struggled with a book like this since I burned out on <em>Magik Online</em> years ago. The hiatuses and drop in quality (at least it felt like a drop to me) should attest to it.

    When I first outlined <em>Commerce Emperor</em>, my goal was to write a long-running saga with one volume per Demon Ancestor, culminating with a final conflict between Robin and Daltia; something which had been nned from the very start.

    I stayed true to that goal during the first volume, but then started experiencing fatigue and dissatisfaction in the second. It took me a while to realize the problem: what I wanted to write was a story about economics, deal-making, and city-building, in short, a slice-of-life about Heroes on the ��low scale�� so to say. Those were the parts I enjoyed the most writing in Commerce Emperor.

    But at the same time, I��d nted the seeds of a vast, world-threatening quest to defeat the Demon Ancestors. I��d created a vast cast of characters, each with their own journeys, but wrote it all in the first person; I wanted to writemerce stories, but also epic battles where thousands of lives would be on the line. In many ways, I think my issue with <em>Commerce Emperor</em> is that I tried to do too many things at once, to write two very different stories andbine them somehow. I was able to keep those somewhat coherent in the first volume when I was building up the world, cast, and powers, but as the stakes rose those cracks grew wider and wider. I was strongly tempted many times to stop, but it just felt wrong to stop with volume 2 after all the plotlines I��d sowed beforehand.

    My objective for the third volume was to return to small-scale;merce-themed, road trip-like adventures�� but the more I advanced and confronted my outline with the plotlines I��d already started (Soraseo��s return from exile, Mersie and Chronius, Daltia��s crown) the more I realized it simply couldn��t be done. I had shot myself in the foot a long time ago. All I could do was try my best.

    Although the ending was how I intended to conclude the series in the first ce, <em>Commerce Emperor</em> was very much cut short from my original nning. I am sorry if this feels rushed. My main fear was to leave this trilogy unfinished, a tale without a conclusion that would have left everyone, myself included, utterly unsatisfied. I wanted to at least conclude the storylines of the main cast, to give Robin, Soraseo, Mersie, and so many others a certain sense of closure. I think I managed to do it somewhat, in a <em>��and the adventure continues�� </em>kind of way.

    If I had the ability to go back in time�� I guess I would either start by making it a multi-viewpoint anthology from the start, or reduce the scale of the conflict to better focus on city-building. There��s still a chance I will return to this universe, either with other Heroes unseen in this trilogy (like the Mage or the Ranger) or perhaps another generation years into the future called to fight the remaining Ancestors�� but for now, I admit I��ve burned out on this series and I��ll walk away from it. This ending was written in case I do not return to it to at least give a sense of closure to my readers.

    Honestly, it��s a terrible feeling to stop enjoying what you create after advancing so far; like suffering from a stroke midway through a race. I don��t wish it on anyone, and I hope I at least managed to entertain you all to the end.

    As for the ending, that was the one I nned during my original outline (though the Curse of Pride would have been thest ��physical�� threat instead of the Shadow of Envy after a lengthier set-up; the ability to make everything they say ��true�� would have been pretty fun to write). I always knew from the prologue that the story��s final confrontation would be a sh of ideals between Robin and Eris/Daltia over what it means to be the Merchant, the meaning of happiness, and what makes a hero. I hope CE at least provided answers and food for thought to readers looking for those.

    While I do have many regrets over how I wrote <em>Commerce Emperor</em>, I did have some fun too and I feel it helped me progress as a writer. It��s easy to stay in ourfort zone, and much more difficult to push boundaries. I��ve learned many things about myself and my craft through <em>Commerce Emperor</em>, from the joys and limits of first-person narration to new prose and the necessity to better focus my storylines from now on.

    For now, I��m going to keep writing <em>Blood & Fur</em> (which is three-fifths into the story as I write these lines) and try some lighter stuff like <em>Dungeon Wreckers</em> and <em>Board & Conquest</em> (both of which will probably hit RR after the winter holidays once I''ve advanced on the Patreon backlog). I miss more zany andedic works, and as always, I hope I��ll see you again on the next one.

    Best regards,

    Voidy.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!