Chapter Text
“It’s time.” Fifth’s unnervingly calm voice shook Felix from his wooden chair. All around him the ten Iron Believers tensed up and formed a ring around the Blue. “You will walk, heathen.”
Felix nodded and pushed away the untouched water and plates of food. Surrounded by the echoes of eleven steps, their small group left the small house and started to walk in silence. Immersing themselves into the forests, they ducked under branches, stomped on roots and stones and forced themselves to not slip on the mood below them.
“...” Felix slapped a branch from his face as he inspected the back of Fifth. “So…what do I need to do?” Silence was his only answer for small talk was not in their gospels and so they did not engage in it. Sighing if only to repress a shudder, Felix refocused and stared forward, trying not to think of the knightly vows he was breaking to save her lady. He could only hope that the damage he would do would not be too much. His gaze was unable to peer through the dark forest at night.
At the very least he was learning about the Witch Cult. While unable to see their faces, Pride was affected by Lady Karsten’s Divine Protection and by water magic. Him fearing contact with him meant that proved that he must be. Now…how to get closer enough to? Or, even better, how could he signal to the kingdom that they were here? Felix’s gaze flickered to Fifth’s conversation mirror, glinting through his pockets.
That…was one way to…Ears fluttering, Felix started to speed a tiny bit. He grimaced as all cultists did the same, always maintaining the same distance as if having warned about this possibility. Clenching and unclenching his hands, Felix’s gaze examined the surroundings. Nowhere. At least not somewhere he recognised nor was of any significant importance. Just a part of the forest around the capital.
Alright…that plan had not worked. Well, they needed him alive, right? And the cult had only ever treated his members as disposable so, if he could whittle down their numbers as they marched…Worth a try. And so Felix slipped. And no cultists moved to stop him from hitting the ground face first. They only stopped their movements to always maintain the same distance between them.
“Pride demands you to get up and continue your movement, heathen.” Fifth’s cold voice interjected, no sight of emotion on it apart from the tiniest bit of exasperation. “And so we ask of you to get up and continue your movement.”
Felix hissed in faked pain and grabbed his ankle. “I can’t go on w…”
“Please, we ask of you to get up and continue your movement.”
“...I think I got my f…”
“Please, we ask of you to get up and continue your movement.”
Growling a tiny bit, Felix got off the ground and their march restarted. Out of ideas, he intentionally slowed down his pace to the minimum he could get away without getting called on it. After ten minutes more of walking they reached a small wooden house in the forest. More cozy if visibly abandoned, the sounds of moving people inside, a lot at that, revealed their objectives inside.
Fifth uncaringly strolled towards the door and entered the building with no doubts nor haste, every second having been dictated by the gospel. Standing with their full height, their gaze moved towards the fifty two women in front who were tensing up with slight fear at seeing the usual cultists. Devoid of hope, their gazes did not move to a very, very confused Felix.
Fifth’s cold and professional voice filled the room with no problem, its pure confidence was an unshakeable faith in its gospel. “The Sin-Archbishop of Pride, and by His will the Witch Cult, has declared the once Sin-Archbishop of Greed, Regulus Corneas, a traitor and heretic and has ordered his summary execution.” The wives in front blinked, not fully understanding the words. “And so, to deliver His judgement, your hearts will be stopped via Blue’s progress in healing magic, as those are the source of his defensive barrier. Once they are all stopped, Pride will be able to fulfill His will.”
Some life was returned to their eyes and tiny whispering started. One of the wives, with blonde hair, advanced forward and placed herself in front of the rest. “Sir Cultists, you should already know that husband-sama is invincible.”
“Not anymore.” Fifth stood taller and signalled the Blue to enter, which he did even if with shaky steps. “The Gospel does not lie. The reason his Authority works has been explained by the One that Does Not Lie. Greed’s Authority depends on your beating hearts to work. And so we will stop them.”
And the buds of newly born hope died. Yet…it quickly was replaced by…happiness? Excited, giddy enthusiasm. The wives’ smiles, while crooked and evil, were honest. The crowd in front of the healer quickly worked itself into a frenzy. “Od below, we have been waiting for so long! / We…we can help to return some of the pain he has caused all of us to him? / Praised be Pride. A shame I can’t see him kick the bucket…”
Felix blinked at the sight in front. The cavalier attitudes of the evidently civilians in front, a punch to his gut. “Wa-wait…are…are you all willing to die to defeat the Sin-Archbishop of Greed? Aren’t you…”
The women turned to him with dead eyes. They had been robbed of their lives long ago and had been forced to merely survive. If anything, to go in a flame of glory would feel like retribution. Felix backed half a step, connecting the dots and seeing that these were victims, not willing participants. “I…”
“You seem to have not understood my words. I apologise for not being a good mouth piece for Pride.” Fifth coughed a bit. “What I meant to say is that your hearts have been ordered to be stopped by His will alone, but He has only decreed thus and so they will beat again once the one that was Greed has been dealt with.” Their eyes darkened. “Consider your bound to the Witch Cult terminated due to your marriage towards a heretic, and so you will be born anew as heathens. Try not to despair after being rejected by Her love and pale in fear at the fact that you are now out of the Cult.”
“We…we get to live too?” A wife muttered, suffering under the rollercoaster of emotion and not being willing to risk hoping again. “Can…can Pride really do it?”
Fifth’s glare glinted with danger. “You already show your heathen tendencies, ex-member. The Gospel does not lie and He will deliver. Greed is already dead, you just have to follow its writ.” Yet they backed away as the Iron Believers stood watch over them. “Now, Blue. Start.” Their glare, now a veritable blade, on them, Fifth grabbed the hilt of their sword.
Felix nodded weakly as he scanned the people in front. He gulped, his plan of intentionally messing this up going up in smoke as he advanced forward. Two of the Iron Believers did so too, undressing their coats to place them on the ground and rotating with the rest to make a floor usable for the treatment. Felix's tail wavered at that but he said nothing as he mentally readied the spell necessary for such a task.
Sylphy, blinking again, turned to Fifth. “I…can’t risk this being a lie, believer in love. May I be allowed to-”
“You are only required to have your heart stopped. If you are capable of moving afterwards, you are free to act as your traitorous free will demands of you, heathen.” Not moving from its position, Fifth kept their eyes on the blue.
Sylphy, after a few seconds, nodded and turned towards Felix. “Healer, is it possible?”
“Nyot. It would be too dangerous to…” His words died as he turned towards Sylphy. Her determined gaze showed that she was willing, and fully ready, to risk her life for this. “...you won’t be able to breathe fine nor without struggles and overworking could kill you. Will you…” The question perished again. She did not even need to nod to show her will.
Shaking his head Felix got to work on Sylphy first, not understanding why Pride was not killing them instead of going this roundabout, and way more dangerous for him, route, nor why he was aiming to kill Greed.
…
Subaru stood in front of the Flugel tree, back against it. At his right a Patrasche was curled up, her gaze attentive despite her comfortable position. Ara and Vela, the latter still a bit tired and the former regretful at having been unable to help against Adelheid, were both on top of his head. Arms crossed, Subaru made no gesture as he waited for the two Sin-Archbishops to reach his position. Neither did his eyes deviate towards the crowns of the trees around, hiding his Sharp Legion.
After a minute, the howl of the White Whale was the warning bell that signalled the two Sin-Archbishops getting too close for his personal comfort. And only then did Subaru move. Uttering a sigh, he shook his head. While low on his personal hate list, both Lye Batenkaitos and Regulus were individuals he took no pity in destroying. The former a pitiless devourer of people, his only saving grace was being less indiscriminate than his brother. The latter, an egomaniacal idiot that could only think about a matter if he was directly involved in it. Well, if everything went to plan, and it would, he would never see the two of them again.
His fingers tapped his arms. His right foot started to move up and down. His spirits stirred above his head, slowly waking up again. The White Whale roared again, this time just behind the treeline. And so it flew right into the sky. Its skin glistened under the starry sky of this lovely night, a portion of it hidden beneath smoke. Its terrifying visage, its hateful gaze, kept controlled by words uttered not by Pride. With little to do, the White Whale started to orbit the crown of the Flugel Tree, its gaze never leaving the mortal drenched in the Witch’s smell.
Rolling his eyes, and somewhat irritated by its growls, Subaru’s gaze moved back to the road in front, where two particular Sin-Archbishops were arriving. The white haired man scoffed at the arrogantly standing fellow and shook his head with disgust.
“Is this really how one asks for help? Displaying yourself in such a prideful and arrogant way, while expected of someone so distasteful as one that endows the sin of Pride, is nothing less than, for starters, a lack of manners towards fellow coworkers. Expanding on that, it is nothing more than a complete lack of absolute consideration towards the time of the Cult, my coworker’s time, and my very own, even if I am humble enough to forgive you for this particular transgression as I am filled with the hope and expectatives of you being able to grow past this deviation of correct protocols of conduct. What’s more, shouldn’t ones that are equal to each other in glory, stance and duty stand with the expected respect that they receive out of their position? You are but stretching and, dare I say, breaking the limits of what is considered having a lackadaisical attitude towards duty and work and falling into a pit of self-complacency that will only weigh down on the whole team, for impoliteness is the first step towards the breaking of the gears of any proper and valid organization. Next would be your disrespectful letter addressed towards us. It lacked any semblance of the required verbosity and thankfulness that requests of help must engage in so as to convey the necessity of their situation for, otherwise, it would be just an action that goes against our very own works, for we all have very busy lives, even if I try to never mention how back breaking the amount of work I engage in, thing that deprives me of my beloved wives and duties that I have as their husband. Really, your lack of any respect towards us, Sin-Archbishop of Pride, is, from any rationality, further highlighted by your need to put the cultists that the Cult has bestowed upon you in ambushing positions all around this clearing, even if I doubt they would be of any usefulness in the non-possible case that we grow angered and decide to engage a comrade in arms in direct combat. Truly, that you even think and act in such a Prideful manner is beyond what your sin should allow and an infringement on our collective rights and, as part of this collective that I am, an infringement of mine.” Just as Regulus took a deep breath to continue his diatribe, his heart hammered in his chest once.
Indeed it was a pained thump, for his Authority found itself without any other hearts and so his protection faltered in the exact moment that five members of the Sharp Legion let go of their strings. The yellow tainted arrows sizzled through the air, causing small waves of wind as they found their aim true. Two pierced through Regulus’ arms from elbow to hand, tearing apart the insides of the arms. The other two, from thighs to feet. The last one, straight into his guts.
Feet nailed on the ground below, the shafts broke as he fell to his knees, the waves of pain too strong to even fight against. Almost instantly came a wave of nausea as the paralytic poison started to sink its teeth into his body, growing it cold and unfeeling. “Finally, I was fearing that your chattering would cause me a migraine.”
Regulus' shaky and blurry gaze tried to move towards Pride unsuccessfully. His mouth, unable to be opened. Lye, on the other hand, tilted his head at a Subaru that was pulling a bottle of oil from one of his pockets. “Now, we can’t say we disagree with your distaste of Greed but he is a fellow Sin-Archbishop, I can’t say we…”
“Tell me, Gluttony. Have you heard of the merchant queen?” Subaru stepped closer towards Greed, bottle in hand.
“...” Lye shuffled in his place, a glint of hate shining on his eyes.
“Don’t you want to devour her?” Subaru poured the oil on the paling Sin-Archbishop. “And what about slave merchants? Kararagi is filled to the brim with those. Think about it. In this hypothetical, you and I could ally. I would deliver you whichever target you want and the field of combat you taste-test them, and you would turn into my muscle and protection...” Subaru let the bottle escape from his grasp, hitting and breaking onto Regulus’ head. His body, drenched in flammable oil, “...for, as you see, I am just a very, very weak man in hand to hand combat.” Ara started to orbit on top of Greed.
“...that would be an attractive offer if we did not see you just betray Greed. Facing the same fate would be the worst, wouldn’t that be?” Lye, still tensed up, flickered his arms to unsheathe the daggers on them. “Now…”
“Then what about the Sword Saintess? Would you not want to eat her?” Subaru’s eyes glinted in unknown emotion. A part of him, screaming in wrongness. She was his target.
He fell silent. The ultimate meal and it had just been proposed to him. He flickered his arms again, hiding his daggers. He frowned, seemingly having a battle of wits with someone in his mind.
Taking that as permission, Subaru extended his hand so that Ara may sit on it. “Now…this is a tradition I could enjoy, Regulus. Last words?”
The Sin-Archbishop forced his mouth to open a millimetre. A small tickle of saliva and air wheezed out. Shrugging, Subaru extended his hand towards Regulus and got ready to snap his fingers before the sound of hurried steps made the three of them turn towards his right. There, a hyperventilating woman had arrived, sweat dropping off her forehead. After a few seconds for the sight in front to truly be made real, she finally saw a Regulus begging for help with his eyes. Begging in the same way that they all had done. Blood was running through his arms and Pride’s flaming finale seemed more cruel than necessary. He was done. He was dying. He could die.
Subaru frowned lightly. “Shouldn’t you be with the others, Sylphy?”
“Is…is he really dying?”
Subaru was going to sigh before a flash of fire appeared in front of his eyes. Unlike the flaming pillar of Adelheid, this one was a furious coat around Sylphy, devouring her skin and flesh. ‘Please…kill him…’ Subaru shook his head. His eyes fell on Ara and he shook harder. The motion lasted for a few seconds before he madly scratched at his head. “Fine! But this is the second time, Ara!! No more manipulation going forward!!”
Gluttony backed a step from the madman as Ara fluttered around, equally as confused. Retracting his arm, he unsheathed his obsidian dagger and, twirling it, extended it towards Sylphy, hilt first. She blinked at it, not understanding what he meant.
“I’m giving you the honours for the sake of the bravery of some old women.” Subaru’s eyes glinted as his smirk returned. Regulus paled further, either from bloodlust or from the crushed faint hope of Subaru having decided to spare him. Seeing her still unmoving, Subaru shook the dagger and moved it a bit closer towards her. “Take a stab at it. See if it makes you feel better.”
With weak and unsteady steps, Sylphy closed the gap between her and Pride. She had no doubt in her mind that the black-haired man dressed in cultist clothes was not him and so, once she stood in front of him, her hand touched the dagger. A deal with the devil, with the Sin-Archbishop. And yet that very fact was just an all-consuming cloud of doubt. “Why…why did you save us all today?”
Subaru sighed and let go of the dagger, it almost falling to the floor thanks to her weak grip. “As I said, for the old women. For the old Sylphy.” Subaru blinked strongly, trying to vanish the coat of fire around the Sylphy of today. “I have a heart too big and so it weighed on me a bit that you did not watch him burn.” Having had his fill in saying confusing and senseless words, Subaru backed a step and extended both arms towards the dying Regulus with theatrical fashion.
Poison starting to wane, the Sin-Archbishop of Greed was able to weakly raise his arms as Sylphy, roaring in anger, lunged at him dagger first. The first stab was followed by a second, a third. It quickly amounted to five, a dozen, two dozen. Up and down the dagger came and went, its edge never losing sharpness as Subaru lost count of the stabs. After a whole ten minutes of only the grunts and screams of Sylphy, charged with all the repressed emotions she had had for decades, her body gave out and she fell on her ass. The choir of stabs had reached almost three hundred. Their consequence, the mutilated body of her tormentor, jailer and torturer, more mincemeat than man at this point, laying finally still.
After a few seconds in which only her breathing could be heard, Subaru’s soft voice cut through the silence. “So, what does your first kill taste like?” His expression, unreadable.
Sylphy’s gaze slowly moved to him before returning to the pile of meat in front. The obsidian knife dropped from her hands and her gaze fell on them. They were coated in red and a bit of brown. She was coated in red and brown. Her white dress, now pink. The coppery smell hit her and nausea invaded her. She turned around and puked.
Subaru’s expression softened. His voice, a powerless whisper. “That’s…” ‘A better answer than mine.’ His has tasted mostly of boredom and irritation, if with a bit of rage. Not of retributive justice. It had been meaningless in the grand scheme of his plots. Maybe it had been so because he had already lost too much of himself back then, during those fatidic first days of his journey. Maybe it had come after he had been too broken for it to really matter.
The White Whale above roared again, hiding the retching of the woman.
Lye rolled his eyes at the sight, the smell of vile irritating him. “So, now that that’s done and dusted with, can we get into those talks you wanted to have? While we would love to chat over a good table with a glass of wine on hand, we saw the chaos back then and we would rather miss the Sword Saintess. This time, at least.” Walking back forward, he stood at the left of Pride. His gaze ended moving to the corpse in front. “Well, he was a horrid meal so we are thankful you took care of it.”
“Right, the alliance.” Subaru’s gaze did not leave Sylphy, now coughing due to the burning in her throat. Sensing his emotions, both Ara and Vela flew next to her, trying to offer whatever comfort the two of them could. Blinking, he forced his casual smile of always and turned to the child. “Well, for starters, if you could order the White Whale to…” The wind blew and both turned in the same direction as before.
This time it was not a woman but the Sword Demon, sword unsheathed and cold gaze on the monster above. Its hate was quickly diverted to the two in front and next to the tree’s trunk. “Pride!! You…” The entire Sharp Legion came out of their hiding places, bows drawn. Wilhelm paused his advance as he started to calculate their aims. “You dare to use that…that detestable creature!!”
Subaru’s smile widened, now fully honest. “Lye, you like to season your food, yes?” Lye’s smile grew again, seeing where this was going. “Order the White Whale to retreat beyond the Great Waterfall.”
Wilhelm paled. “You…you wouldn’t dare!”
And Lye roared in laughter. “We see, we see!!” Shaking their head, still snickering, their gaze gained unquantifiable hunger as they examined the man in front. “As nasty as we expected from Pride.” A wave and the White Whale roared again. Its fins paddled against the wind and it sped up, flying faster and faster to never be seen again. And it truly disappeared on the horizon, its roars never to be heard again, it seemed.
Wilhelm’s face was a painting of pure desperation as his nemesis, the creature that had murdered his soulmate, swam into forever safety. Forever away from retribution, from him. Towards a place he would never be able to follow it, to avenge her. “Pride!!!” His roar racked up the wind, now as cold as winter. Fifty arrows were shot and the Sword Demon rampaged through the volley, his sword never missing one.
The ground cracked and he lunged towards Subaru, his rage blinding him to the situation they were in. Nevertheless, Wilhelm did the only thing he truly knew how to do. The thing he had sacrificed everything and everyone for. He swung his sword. He swung it with the same determination and skill as always. And it got parried and disarmed by Lye as he jumped in defense of Pride. Wilhelm blinked, sword glinting mockingly as it flew away, marking its betrayal as reality. He only then realised his folly as he got kicked into the chest, breaking ribs and pushing him away. Sent flying, Wilhelm hit the ground and tumbled along it as he dispersed the energy, trying to lessen his impact against the tree he had been aimed towards. A loud thump and leaves were kicked out of its crown.
Back against Subaru, Gluttony licked his dagger as he dispelled his lunar eclipse, hunger tunneling his vision in the gourmet buffet Pride had delivered in front of him. Now the old man looked like well aged wine. “We are sorry, we can’t really let you kill our new ally just lik…” Ley’s words lost potency as he moved a step forward. Looking down, he saw that Crusch’s dagger, stained in the same yellow that had done Greed in, had stabbed through his chest and heart. Tumbling two extra steps forward, he turned towards Pride with glassy and confused eyes. Before he could activate eclipse and heal his wounds, an act further slowed down by the poison injected directly into his heart, the other fifty arrows were shot at him, shredding the child’s body.
Ignoring the enemy he had just felled, Subaru’s gaze was only on Wilhelm. “Now, now, you would not really want to kill Crusch because you got angry at the White Whale retreating to safety now, would you? The dead man switch is still on.”
Both Wilhelm and Sylphy were out of words. The corpse of Lye, just a sidenote of this encounter for Pride, was right next to his feet after they had just drafted an hypothetical alliance. The sight of trounced meat, skin and bones of the betrayed Sin-Archbishop, most unbelievable. His too wide smile and shining, content eyes, uncanny. “Sir…Pride?”
Wilhelm, ignoring broken bones, got up. Spitting some blood first, he turned two crazed eyes towards Pride. “...you are utterly disgusting, Sin-Archbishop.”
Subaru mockingly bowed at that. “Likewise, Old Man. But, really, you should blame your beloved granddaughter. Her failure at trapping me has made all of this possible.” A last wink and Pride left the gesture, his smile gone. “And our deal has finished, shuh, shuh. Take back your cat-boy and idiotic Lady and get out of my sight.” His words were combined with Subaru waving the Sword Demon away, not that he moved. Turning away, cloak fluttering behind him, he started to walk. His midnight symphony, having ended on a high note. And so his hands moved first to his collar, unfastening it and letting the insignia drop. After that was the sheath of the dagger, dropping that memento of Crusch too. Both things, meaningless to him.
Two sets of steps were quick to sound trailing him. One of Patrasche and the second of Sylphy, still exhausted thanks to Blue’s magic. All around, the cultists were mixing into the shadows of the night and retreating too. Uncaring for her, he kept going.
“Sir…sir Pride!” Not giving up, Sylphy used her last batch of energy and managed to grab Subaru’s right, further tainting it in blood. As his irritated gaze turned back to her, a shadow of Regulus hid his face. The illusion making her gulp, the ghost was nonetheless destroyed as his gaze recognised her.
“...yes? I…kinda gotta move so be quick, alright?” His tone incensed, his gaze, despite being scary, betrayed a hint of empathy for her.
Wheezing, and body feeling too cold, she wavered. Her words, determined, stable and toneless. “I…I prayed daily for anybody, even a demon, to help us with him. I would have sold my soul to anyone, anything…” Her eyes flickered to her own bloodied hands. “And you did it. You helped all of us when no one did. Let me serve you.” And so Sylphy bowed her head.
And Pride stood still. Wasting time. He really shouldn’t. Adelheid could be on her way. Even Julius. Even an army. Yet, the sight of Sylphy right now, begging for… He forced a fake smile. “Well, welcome to the team then, Sylphy. You are in dire need of a nickname but it can wait.”
Sylphy let out the breath she had been holding in. “And…and the others?”
Subaru shrugged. “Not my problem, they are now in the Kingdom's hands and, more importantly, in Blue’s. The Karsten blueblood will validate their words so there’s no need to think of it as my problem.”
And so her tension and desperate energy ran out thanks to relief, causing her to drop to her knees in front of a Subaru that moved not to grab her. “Huh…the spell ran out. How are you feeling? Will I really need to reset over this?” Subaru groaned lightly as he scratched the back of his head. “Don’t be for real, please.”
“No…I…I can go on, Sir Pride.” Her body could not, in fact, go on.
“...is that so?” Shrugging, Subaru turned around and started to walk, each step slower and smaller yet, for Sylphy, an image that threatened to disappear. Grunting, she tried to force her weakened body before the earth dragon next to her placed her head on hers. Patrasche’s gaze, allowing her to rest and focus on getting her heart and cold body under control.
After three more steps Pride stopped. After ten seconds he scratched his head. After twenty he turned around. Her defeated position hardened his gaze and he walked back to her. “Already slacking off, new recruit?” ‘Tsk’ing, he reached her and put her hands under her arms. Vela casted a tiny help and Subaru hoisted her up and put her on top of the earth dragon. Retracting his hands, the memory of his cold, cold first night in this country flashed by. He undressed his cloak and threw it to her face, almost knocking her out of the dragon. And so, done with that, he restarted his march.
As Patrasche followed behind, tail waving proudly, Sylphy could only stare in wonder at Pride’s back. He…he made no sense. Sylphy shook her head and dressed the cloak. Despite its appearance, it was warm and soft, too soft.
……
Seeing his new nemesis march away as if he, the Sword Demon, was such a non-problem that he could dare to turn his back towards him, Wilhelm limped towards his fallen sword. An enormous was evident on its edge, a parting gift of the deceased Gluttony. Next where the dagger and the insignia. And, despite not knowing if Felix was alright, if Crusch was still alive, if being unsure that Pride would not betray his word like he had just shown to be capable of doing, his gaze moved first to the place where the White Whale had disappeared from his life.
The pain in his body, his desperate grip on the hilt of his sword, his nails biting deep into his left palm, none of that was even noticed under the weight of this revelation. He had failed. Theresia would never be avenged. No…no, no, no. He could not believe that. These decades, the family he had left to rot in his obsession, the countless sleepless nights. He had not failed. He had been robbed. He had been sabotaged. By Pride, by the Witch Cult, by that very own whale. By his own blood, by his own granddaughter.
All alone, right next to the enormous tree, Wilhelm felt too small. Defenseless. Powerless. With no longer any agency over his own actions. Yet, his discipline and warrior mentality moved him after five minutes of vigil. Turning around, he forced his limp away and marched towards his Lady, his duty, if cracked and now purposeless, still carrying him forward. He reached the cabin last, it now being surrounded by women that were now truly free.
He cared not for any single one of them thanks to the new fire of hatred that burned deep within, having combined with the old to merge into an overpowering bonfire. He strolled inside and helped Felix with freeing Crusch from her stone armour and firestones. Their orange glint in his hands, a tantalising view of that cursed orange. It took all of his willpower to not clench his hands and turn them to dust. The Whale was gone. Forever. But Pride remained and he would reach him and tear him limb from limb.
…
Finally done with helping put out the fires, the Sword Saintess jumped again to the sky, place where she had blocked those two distraction shells. Her sharp gaze looked all around the capital, she was quick to notice the tiniest glimpse of a small group. Her gaze sharpening, she let herself fall down again, landing softly in the midst of her fellow knights.
“Sword Saintess, did you see anything?”
A nod of her head and she jumped in that direction. Her flight was the only guidance the knights needed to try and rush behind her. A good fifth of the city around them, blackened skeletons and mountains of ash and dust. All around them, people grieving the loss of their possessions and homes. The knights steeled themselves. They must punch in retaliation or the affront to their honour and prestige would go unanswered.
Nevertheless, they were utterly unable to catch up to the too fast Sword Saintess and so she landed, alone, next to the Fluger tree. Her eyes noticed the weakened but healthy Crusch, an exhausted Felix, fifty one women, and… “Steemed Grandfather?”
The man slowly turned to her, eyes dead. In front of him, the only target he could blame for this outcome. She had all the power, all the skills, all the blessings…And yet she had let Pride go and rampage. She had let him fail. “You are late, Sword Saintess.”
She tensed up, that tone reminded her of when Heinkel got too drunk. Too angry. “My apologies, I…”
“Your apologies won’t bring back the death, the destroyed city. All of their futures.” His hand tensed up. A part of him knew he was making a mistake. He spoke the same. “How could I have ever thought that you could be enough? You will never manage to reach the woman you murdered.” His vitriol was not yet done. “I shall always regret when you became what you are, Sword Saintess.” Wilhelm turned away his gaze and marched past her, his glare a mirror to his new obsession.
Felix, helping Crusch walk, looked down, not having anything to say to console the Sword Saintess. She, herself, facing a storm inside her mind that was being destroyed by her Divine Protections. Her eyes did not shake nor tear up. Her hands were stable. No signs of any of the impact those words should have had. Truly…How could she be this monstrous? “Are you unhurt, Lady Karsten?” She hated how confident and even her words sounded.
A shaky nod. “I will survive. The wounds they inflicted on me were with that very same purpose in mind.” Her gaze flickered to the bodies around. Only dead Sin-Archbishops. “What I find most interesting is…what was Pride’s purpose today?”
Felix shuffled, not knowing either. The women all around looked at each other, not one having been told anything.
“...it matters now. Sword Saintess, if you may escort us to the palace? I need to rendezvous with the council as well as get these women a safe place to be treated.”
A nod.
…
Miklotov sat in the chairs that they had brought to the ceremony. His face pale, his gaze was on the city around. His hands, clenched on the chair, were the mirror of the dread his gaze held as he awaited the report of Bordeaux, who was pacing up and down in front of him as he listened to a conversation mirror. The four candidates in front, the spectators to this reunion.
Emilia, with Roswaal and Ram behind, was constantly shuffling on her seat, stealing glances from the destruction around as if she wanted to leave her chair and rush to heal the people around. Roswaal, arms crossed, perfectly hid his contentment with this result, already foretold by his gospel.
Anastasia, still guarded by an alert Julius, was already talking with her company through her conversation mirror. She had the tiniest bit of a feeling that wood, stone, buildings and earth mages would be in high demand in the capital and so she would be the first to deliver, taking advantage before the prices skyrocketed.
Crusch, a bit pale and letting a cough there and there, calmly sat next to Felix, the latter still examining her for secret or missed poisons that threatened her life. Her resolute gaze was on Bordeaux, ready to receive the horrid casualty report for the capital. How many thousands would have died? Wilhelm was not with her, having decided to do damage control on their manor.
Priscilla fanned herself, her knight behind her as casual as ever. Pride’s theatre had been, at the very least, somewhat entertaining and so she had not acted to stop it. The World itself had moved nor warned her not and she was growing bored, knowing that the report would not be something that would threaten her own position. Her gaze glinted as she remembered the madman that had dared to not even gaze at her in his crazed obsession. Yes, a worthy foe to vanquish.
Adelheid, right next to Emilia, as she had decided to vow herself her knight to protect her from the Witch Cult’s declaration, moved not. Had her diaphragm not been pushing and pulling her chest, she would have looked like a statue. Her cold eyes were on the conversation mirror, ready to count the cost for her failure of today.
After another hour, Bordeaux’s pacing stopped. “...what?”
All of the elders inched forward in the chairs.
“...that can’t be right, the conversation mirror must have failed. Repeat.” Another long pause as Bordeaux blanched. “What do you mean there have been no dead, only wounded?”
Emilia blinked and tilted her head. Anastasia’s conversation mirror was almost thrown out of her hand by a spasm. Crusch did not react, the strange acts of the Sin-Archbishop becoming a pattern. Priscilla’s gaze got more intense as the hunt turned more interesting.
“Re-repeat that, Elder Bordeaux.”
The warrior lowered his conversation mirror. “No death. Not at all. This was a show of superiority.” His gaze flickered to the half-devil. “A declaration of war. They wanted to terrify us into…what, doing their work for them, delivering the half-devil to them? They delivered no demands, no ultimatums, they only attacked, burnt our capital and stole from our armouries.”
Miklotov tapped on his lips. “Maybe this attack was the first one? One to replenish their numbers and weaponry via surprising us by taking the initiative?”
Bordeaux shook his head. “Makes no sense for them to go out of their way to deliberately kill nobody. It can only be called bizarre.” His hand closed the conversation mirror and, after pocketing it, fell on the hilt of his sword. “What we can expect is for a real war in the shadows. The underground will be widely contested, if it hasn’t already been taken control of by them. We have to raise the alarm and strengthen the Martial Law. We can’t let these cockroaches scutter beneath our feet or the next explosions may not be so charitable.”
The elder’s gaze moved to Emilia. “So it really was a plot to stop a half-elf they consider repulsive from reaching the throne? Is this an insult towards the prophecy of the Divine Dragon?” Miklotov’s fingers topped their tapping. “Their reasoning matters not, the kingdom has to win.” He turned to one of the knights, who stood taller and saluted. “Call for Russell, we will need his expertise for the rebuilding of the city.” ‘And the Six Tongues.’
They saluted again and sped out.
“Apologies for interrupting your leadership, but I can’t really get it on my head, y’know?” Anastasia, closing her own conversation mirror, turned her sharp gaze towards Bordeaux. “Is the counting not yet done or the search ongoing? The Witch Cult have never cared for the devastation they cause…”
Priscilla rolled her eyes. “Have you yet to understand what this was about, merchant?” She shuffled on her chair and closed her fan. “This was a challenge. Pride has challenged the kingdom with this play of his. He has shown a passable ability to command his troops, above average courage and the proper wits of someone who lives in the shadows of that foolish group. This was a planned public humiliation. The kingdom’s history will forever be stained by such a folly of yours.”
“With all due respect, the Witch Cult does not do challenges nor humiliation games, Lady Priscilla. They follow their cursed gospel to the letter and only that.” Bordeaux’s right hand opened and closed the conversation mirror continuously inside his pocket.
“Then what would you call today, fool?”
The old warrior fell silent.
“Exactly. That you lot are refusing to see the evidence in front is but a slight to this kingdom that must be purged by my own hands. And this transgression will not go unpunished, for they dared to ruin my presentation as the future Queen for their contemptuous self-introduction.” Al tapped the hilt of his sword behind her. That Sin-Archbishop had used expressions not of this world. He was an absolute risk that must be dealt with. But the battlefield must be prepared by himself and not by Pride.
“...what I can’t really understand are two things. The first is Pride killing both Greed and Gluttony.” Muttered Crusch, arms crossed in front of her. “They seemed to be on good terms, or as friendly as Sin-Archbishops can be, before he betrayed both for no apparent reason. He went as far as to call off the White Whale’s attack, it seemed.” The duchess frowned a tiny bit. “And the second thing is, why go so far to save the wives of Greed? By my Divine Protection they were unaffiliated with the Cult, ignorant of its inner workings, and victims of the Sin-Archbishop that forcibly married. And that leaves me to say that my kidnapping had no other possible reason…” ‘Least he lied during his presentation. Yet…where in his speech could he have?’ “...other than to save the women for their own sakes.”
Felix's tail wavered from side to side but he interjected not.
“Nonetheless, the women are being taken care of and will be given housing by my own hand. Still, the major problem we find ourselves in is what they stole in specific. They have taken control over all the artillery pieces in the capital, including the Night Banisher cannons, together with most of the armouries’ weapons and armours.” She shuffled on her seat. “While the nobility has not been affected, the Royal Forces will face severe shortages, I believe.”
“...a levy of the nobility or an emergency tax will be necessary.”
“A tax?” One of the Elders interjected. “Miklotov, you can’t be serious! Who will be able to pay for it? Most of the people that lost their possessions today were the most well off of the lowerclasses! What are we going to do, go sack the slums? Should we implement an emergency tax, we will collect scraps while making an enemy of the entire capital!”
“Neither is an extra levy of noblemen sane!” A fourth entered the discussion. “We have lost face completely today and, worst of all, some of the manors of dukes have been damaged in the crossfire. If we try to force our luck we shall find our requests for men missing and unable to reach their intended targets! If we force too much, we may very well see them completely close down and refuse to pay their taxes this year!”
“Maybe the merchant class would be able to contribute?”
“Ah, and who will then deliver the goods to the capital? To tax them will slow down too much our recovery efforts to rebuild the damaged sections and autumn is around the corner! Should we not manage to repair it before winter…”
“Well, we can’t just do nothing!”
A cough stopped the council for falling further into disarray. The Sword Saintess shuffled on her place. “Elders, I believe we need to…”
A sixth council member pointed at her. “Don’t you dare say anything, Sword Saintess, your failure today h…” Under the glares of the rest of the council their reproaching was silenced.
Miklotov coughed. “You are right, Sword Saintess. We humbly apologise for our lack of decorum right now. We have shown the fourth Candidates our lowest and it shall not be repeated.” Miklotov caressed his beard. “What will the Royal Candidates do?”
Crusch bowed. “I will try to rally the nobility behind the reconstruction, Council of Wise men. I won’t promise to be able to fully support the idea of a levy, but I shall try to thread the line and heat the waters for a warmer reception.”
Priscilla snorted. “I shall care for my domain, fools. And I won’t be helping fix your own failures nor lack of ability. You should think about relegating your duties to me before you sink this country beyond repair.”
The Merchant Queen jumped off her seat. “This gal will try to keep her prices as low as I can without incurring a loss, Council of Elders. Beyond that, I can’t promise much as my company and guilds will be focusing solely on repairing the capital."
Emilia shrunk a tiny bit, not able to do anything grand nor meaningful. “The Emilia Camp will try to gather some earth mages, venerable council.” Roswaal, on the other hand, offered his connections. His fake tone of always, for once welcomed by everyone. “We can’t really leave the capital in such a sorry state now, can we?”
A thankful bow from Miklotov. “Thank you for your collaboration, Royal Candidates. We won’t forget your magnanimity.” Leaving his respectful stance, his gaze moved to Bordeaux while they retreated from the meeting. “Get our forces back in shape and do an inspection, we need to know what cards we have right now in our hands. Knights, men at arms, militia, our stock, we need to know the exact numbers. We will continue to survey the damage and we need to get in contract with the populace. What’s more, get all the reports of the merchants that entered the city and what carriages were further investigated, all of those firestones did not come from nowhere. Find the from where. Next…the Six Tongues will survey the underground. There must have been ripples and we will find those.”
And so the council started to work, forced into action by an entity that they had no idea what it actually wanted, the why nor the how.
…………