ã€ŠBetrayerborneã€‹


 Book 1 Ch 1: Casual Alley Mugging

    Cris hadn¡¯t been expecting to die in an alley. He¡¯d ended up being beaten lightly a few times and thrown out of his share of taverns but not like this. At least not in this way, drunk and broken as an extremely old man who had spent his last coin on alcohol which was strong enough to strip the flesh from his skin made sense but not like this, not in his youth when he still had good looks.

    ¡®He¡¯s a pretty one isn¡¯t he? Unique even. Foreign perhaps with that hair and those eyes. Pretty. I think we can use him a few times, knock him out and dose him up with a good amount of lotus to sell on. As long as none of us touches his face or his teeth or course. The rest of him can be used pretty good. Been a long time since I had me a pretty one like him. A good long time since a noble touched my skin. What do you think pretty one? Fancy using your skills to give Agnes here a good time? I promise the others won¡¯t touch you, not in the way you think. You may have to use your imagination to keep them happy but it¡¯ll work out. Better than us beating you into unconsciousness and taking you against your will, eh?¡¯ said the cloaked woman.

    Even though there was a distance from them, Cris could still sense the aura of decay that affected the woman. There was a degree of purity which was odd although not entirely in equal balance to the degree of decay. She wasn¡¯t entirely corrupted, not in the worse sense of the word but her aura wasn¡¯t far off it. He doubted that she¡¯d be able to form clear enough sentences if she had devolved far enough.

    Besides, the priests and their followers tended to keep a close lookout for any distinct markings. During his own training before he had dropped out Cris had learnt enough to pick up smaller details with a quick glance. The teachers had admired him then, not like these people in this stinking alleyway.

    Standing opposite him at the end of the stinking alley was a trio of three people in cheap, woollen cloaks. He was sure it wasn¡¯t down to the chilly night.

    From the body shape, the one who had spoken to him was a woman judging from her body. One of them was more heavily built but standing upright and another figure who was hunched over a little standing in between the other two.

    ¡®Shut it Agnes. You always want to take the pretty ones for yourself. I think we should just take him, tie him up and drop him off at the ladies knocking house. She¡¯ll dose him up with her own lotus supply. I¡¯m not wasting a single leaf when we can get some money out of him. Besides, he¡¯s too young for an old lady like you. Better you find a real man, one with a bit of maturity. This young pup doesn¡¯t even have a whisper of a beard yet.¡¯ said one of the cloaked figures.

    Backing himself up, Cris stopped short of touching the wall behind him in the alley. He had chosen to relieve himself here after the tavern had relieved him of his last kingdom allocated vouchers. It hadn¡¯t been easy to find a low-born place which would accept them in lieu of physical coin but they had given him a filling meal and a glass of low-quality wine which he would have poured on the floor if he had any better choice.

    The cloaked man had a similar aura to the woman, not as decayed but on an even keel. The fact that both of them were disguising their faces and bare skin made Cris concerned in that they had both suffered physical change, even a small amount of the magical virus could cause corruption if it wasn¡¯t treated immediately by a Priest of Purity and Light.

    No, it wasn¡¯t the two that bothered him. All they had done was approach him after he had finished shaking off the last of his urine in an attempt to stop him getting it on his trousers. Cheap quality wine always ran through him like water through a sieve, not that he would dare to drink non-boiled, not treated water. The Kingdom Temples offered for it free as long as he was willing to be checked over by a priest but Cris had his own reasons for keeping a low profile.

    ¡®Your friend. What¡¯s wrong with him? If you¡¯re looking to make some coin then this is the wrong time and place for it. How about we go back into the tavern and I buy us all a meal and a drink and we can be on our way? I¡¯m not as nice as I¡¯m talking and I don¡¯t want to kill anyone else today just because they made a mistake. Your friend, how about you take him to a temple to be checked out? The pair of you are still clean but who knows for how long?¡¯ said Cris as he reached a hand to the hidden blade behind his back.

    As though in response to his words, the third figure hunched over even further and Cris was certain that he detected a shiny glint there underneath the hood. Likely a mark of corruption. Spreading out his sense he forced himself not to recoil from the sense that he received from the third person, embedded corruption, not deep but it hadn¡¯t been treated either.

    ¡®Even his voice is pretty. I wonder if he sings as well as he talks. Been too long since a man recited poetry to me, especially such a young and fresh one. Look at him, not a single blemish or trace of corruption on his skin. Not often we see such a fancy high-born who comes down from his fancy palace up on the mountains to frequent us low-born. You came here for a bit of slap and tickle pretty boy? Agnes knows how to treat you right if you respond the right way. We don¡¯t even need to give in to violence. Not as long as you do what we say, you¡¯ll even get a cut of the payment from paying customers. Richen and Marley here will do exactly what I say.¡¯ said the cloaked figure called Agnes as she gestured a gloved hand to the two other cloaked figures in the alley.

    Shaking his head lightly, Cris had put his hand on the hidden blade behind his back. He¡¯d be able to force a little purity essence into it to give the trio a scare as long as they didn¡¯t notice his actions. He could also scream or shout and hope the guard or the bouncers inside the tavern took notice but he doubted they¡¯d respond in this place. More likely the trio had paid them off to keep this alleyway as part of their territory.

    ¡®Dear Lady, as much as I like the idea of becoming an entertainer who offers physical services on the side I¡¯ll have to kindly reject your offer. Why don¡¯t you take off your hood and let me see who I¡¯m talking to? You and your¡­.compatriots have me at a disadvantage when you can clearly see my fine face and I remain unable to see yours. This is the usual case when conducting business, and in return I promise not to shout or raise my voice to draw attention to your...place of territory and work. I was merely passing and wanted to relieve my bladder of the pressure of a little wine. Would...Richtson and Marley agree to your instructions?¡¯ said Cris as he wrapped his fingers around the blade.

    There was a noticeable shift in the area of the third cloaked figure in the alleyway. There was a strengthening of the degree of corruption which had began to take hold of the figure and infusing his hidden blade with a touch of purity had began to draw a response.

    He had always been good with names and knowing them in passing was as good as a weapon in certain circumstances.

    ¡®They do what I say. Marley, you agree don¡¯t you to a little par-ley before we do our business. No sense in fighting until we know we have no choice. Richtson doesn¡¯t speak much but he¡¯ll agree. He will if he knows what good for him, don¡¯t you boy?¡¯ said Agnes.

    The one called Marley who had spoken earlier simply shook his head before he gave out a deep sigh and closing his fists and crossing his arms across his chest in a physical sign of agreement for a contract. Cris assumed that Richtson was the figure who had crouched over and bent down, closer to being on all fours that any human being had a right to be. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    He kept one hand behind his back on his hidden blade but released some of the slowly building purity magic keeping his aura senses on the figure and his eyes on his physical movements trying to detect a response.

    ¡®How infected is your friend? Sorry, Richtson. Have you been giving him treatment for his condition?¡¯ said Cris.

    A deep growl came from under the cloaked figure which had straightened it¡¯s back slightly but a pair of hands stretched outwards from the folds of the clothing covering it. Both hands were clean of any taint but Cris could see the length of the nails on the fingers and the distinct trace of purple on the exposed skin.

    ¡®None of your business boy. You a priest of the church? No, you¡¯re too young for that. An adept maybe, out spending your Mistresses coins to try and find an infected to work on? Tell you what, you come with is and give Richter a little boost to help him fend off his...bad cough a little and we¡¯ll let you go free. No more business talk about how pretty you are. I¡¯ll need a good kiss from you though, no sense letting that face going to waste and maybe a quick grope but only from my and not from my boys. We got a deal, handsome cutie?¡¯ said Agnes as she held out a hand to her side and made a lowering motion towards the one she called Richter.

    The sudden motion of the back doorway from the tavern released a burst of light and noise into the back alleyway as a young woman dressed as a barmaid held a bucket with both hands and poured the contents on the side of the door.

    Giving Cris a quick glance and a smile she waved towards the three figures in the alleyway before she picked up the emptied bucket and pulled the door behind her slamming it tight. Stretching his hearing, he was certain that he heard an audible click as one escape route for him was locked tight.

    He pulled his blade out from behind him and held it in a sideways motion in front of him, letting one arm hang loosely down on his side. He¡¯d infused enough purity essence in the thin edged white metal blade to enable it to glow a little but his energies were going to run out soon enough. Making sure the balance of purity inside the blade for this long had caused his hand to shake and a bead of sweat ran down his brow.

    ¡®I guess I don¡¯t have much of a choice then do I Agnes? Three against one doesn¡¯t seem like very fair odds does it? I have a counter offer though, You can come over here and let me give you a kiss and then I¡¯ll do my best for your friend to help him stave off the corruption a little until you get him to a priest for further treatment. I¡¯ll even throw in a few of these as a bonus.¡¯ said Cris as he reached his hand inside his trouser pocket and pulled out what was left of his vouchers before he held them up, illuminating them in the glow of his white metal blade.

    ¡®High-born. I told you he¡¯s a high-born. We don¡¯t need that kind of heat on us and if he¡¯s going to give old Richter a dose of purity for free and throw in a few of them vouchers then we don¡¯t need to fight. You know how he¡¯s been getting, the lotus won¡¯t been enough to keep him calm and I¡¯m not going to offering him fresh meat from my own arm when he loses control.¡¯ said Marley.

    The man had reached up both hands and pulled down his own cloak to reveal a middle-aged man with messy mid-length common black hair and a pair of matching colour eyes. His skin was marginally sallow and he had a haggard look under his eyes. Letting out a deeper sigh he casually walked to the side of the alleyway and leaned backwards against the wall folding his arms across his chest and crossing his legs.

    Agnes took several steps back, keeping her attention focused on the glow of the blade and Cris noticed her eyes widen marginally at the sight of the vouchers in his other hand as he waved them a little in the non-existent breeze. She reached out a hand and grabbed onto the cloaked arm of Richter, steadying her own feet as she lifted him up with a single strong motion.

    ¡®Marley. You don¡¯t talk for me or over me. Are we clear on that? High-born or not I¡¯m not letting him walk away from us. A waft of money and a little threat and you back down like a good little servant? No. I need results. You don¡¯t want your share then leave, I paid High Heeled Alice for this territory and she¡¯ll want her own cut or either goods or services. You. Get over here and give Richter a boost. I¡¯m not taking him to a temple, they check them and they take them away from us. Not that you¡¯d know about that being as pretty as you are. I was a beauty once when I was young, a dozen pretty boys like you would have flocked to hear me talk but the war took that away from me. Not that it¡¯s any of your business. Get over here and give him a boost before any guards come. You can hand over those vouchers to Marley first, just to make sure you don¡¯t try and bolt.¡¯ said Alice.

    Her strength surprised Cris, either the woman was far stronger than she looked or she had been augmented. Likely the latter he considered which meant that he wasn¡¯t dealing with a standard group of would-be muggers out to make a decent coin from either kidnapping and selling him as a male escort and enjoy themselves in the process.

    ¡®When did you leave the war? When were you disbanded and left with nothing? You were corrupted but you¡¯re walking the streets. Your friend is a danger.¡¯ queried Cris.

    He was struggling to keep the purity energy running through the white metal blade in his hand but he gritted his teeth and held on. There was no reason to delay opportunity when it came knocking at his door with open arms.

    A voice came from under the cloaked man as he was raised up by the woman called Agnes. With her free hand she pulled back her hood from her heavy cowl to reveal her own features. A touch of red remained in her hair in several streaks running through what had turned grey, she was older than Cris by several decades at least and he saw that once she would have been a highly attractive woman before time and life took its toll. The darkness of the alley made it harder for him to make out her features clearly but he was able to work out just enough from moonlight shining down.

    Her face was slim but her mouth was deeply creased and a look of anger flashed through her eyes as she involuntary glanced towards Marley leaning against the wall. A hand signal flashed as she made a gesture towards him and the man stiffened as he reached one hand behind his back

    ¡®Not your concern¡­.boy. Too many died and not enough survived the plague and the great cleansing that followed. We did. Maybe if you came down from your high up home on your mountain and went over the walls you¡¯d get a taste of the real world. We killed and kept you safe. Our reward? No, not your concern. Neither is my friend. You¡¯re too young to understand real loss. I¡¯d like to keep you pretty for a little longer as long as you stop asking questions like that.¡¯ said Agnes as the anger on her face melted away with a bright smile.

    When she made a quick movement with her head the man pushed himself off the wall and stood straight, one hand reaching behind his back and the other opening and closing in a clenched fist.

    ¡®You work for the Crown? The Queen perhaps? A lay brother out for an opportunity to capture a deeply corrupted? A boy like you wouldn¡¯t have even been born the day we set foot in the cursed lands. Marley, prepare yourself for an attack. I don¡¯t think this young noble is as simple as he makes himself out to be. Could be he was looking for us after all, either to take our comrade away for a priest to examine or for another trick.¡¯ said Agnes.

    Her hand holding the remaining fully covered cloaked held onto his arm lifting him upright eliciting a deep grunt from the man. The fact that both of her hands remained gloved gave Cris little indication of the true nature of her arm. An augmented one, he had found a living myth at last.

    ¡®I don¡¯t give a rats fart who you work for, as long as you stick to our previous agreement then a pretty boy won¡¯t have to learn the hard lessons we did when everyone we fought with died and we lived. And after you give me a kiss handsome boy, we can go inside and talk. Make a choice and be quick about it. My comrade here is getting heavy.¡¯

    Cris wasn¡¯t feeling like dying in an alley and the situation had both become more dangerous and rewarding than he had expected. He gave an inward sigh and moved forward to hand over his vouchers to the man standing by the alley wall, he let the energy flowing into the white metal blade slow and still before he stored it on his back again.

 Book 1 Ch 2: War Stories

    The man called Marley had been cautious than he had expected, rather than snatching the handful of scrip out of his hand he gestured with his fingers to indicate that one at a time should be handed over. After examining the first one holding it up with one hand he pulled out a device from behind his back and took a close look, running it up and down the voucher several times before he nodded to Agnes and held out a hand for the rest.

    ¡®We¡¯re clear. No easy signs of counterfeiting. Nothing basic at least, the ink doesn¡¯t run on my fingers but as for the details...I need more light to do a better check. Better than this stinking alley at least. You want me to risk handing one to High Heeled Alice?¡¯ queried Marley as he tucked the remaining vouchers inside a hidden pocket in the recesses of his cloak.

    Agnes simply shook her head before she made a sideways gesture with her head and pointed to the closed back door of the tavern that led onto the darkened alleyway.

    ¡®Go in and keep an eye out for any little friends hanging around. Alice can wait. The Queen¡¯s Guards are always looking for any opportunity to impress and they might have a priest or two hanging around with them. Ah, look at him, the handsome young man thinks that because we wanted to mug him in an alley and sell his sweet arse for coin we¡¯re stupid and uneducated. Boy, lessons take many forms. We three lived while thousands of others died. You can leave now Marley. He¡¯s not working for the church. Not this time.¡¯ said Agnes.

    Marley crossed his hands and put the device back behind his back, Cris found it hard to make out in the dim light but he sensed the aura of an alchemist style machine from it. Part of it was wrong to his mind, it worked with the corruption rather than eliminating it.

    ¡®Agnes, he¡¯s not worth it. We can find another way to treat Richter, even the coin we would have got from selling or using the boy could have covered a rogue priest. I don¡¯t like it. He turns up to tonight to take a piss in our territory? No. Is it worth it for a single kiss?¡¯ said Marley.

    ¡®Sergeant Marley. Will you obey a commanding officer or not?¡¯ said Agnes.

    Her eyes flashed hard for a moment and she tightened he grip on the arm of the man called Richter. This time the strength of her hand elicited a small moan of pain from under the hood.

    Marley stood ramrod straight and placed a hand over his chest before he pulled his hood back down over his face.

    ¡®Yes ma¡¯am. Stay safe. You too Richter. If neither of you comes out after I¡¯ve had a drink and a chat and a little look-see I¡¯m coming out, better armed if necessary. Watch him, there¡¯s something about him that¡¯s got my senses up. He¡¯s trained. Not dangerous but definitely trained. He has the abilities of one of those blessed¡¯ said Marley.

    Without a second look at Cris the now hooded man pushed off the alley wall and walked straight towards the locked door. He made a series of seemingly random knocks before a small wooden hatch opened and light and sound spread into the small alleyway.

    Moving closer and keeping his back to the others, he spoke quickly in hushed words that Cris was unable to make out clearly. The back alley doorway was opened and the same young tavern maid who had served Cris one of the few drinks he had been able to stomach opened it.

    He recognised her as the one who hadn¡¯t smiled when he¡¯d tried to compliment her about the colour of her eyes. She¡¯d simply stared and walked off and then returned with his order before roughly dropping it on the table. He¡¯d need to work on that.

    After he took a step back he handed the young tavern maid who had opened it one of the vouchers and she led them both inside before the door locked once again, this time with a louder banging.

    The sounds of merriment and loud conversation attracted Cris as the light from lanterns within shone brightly before leaving him back in the dark alley. Clearly for him, deciding to use the alley to relieve himself rather than one of the backrooms had been the wrong idea but an opportunity to learn, to even talk with people who had been there when the war had ended. His inquisitive nature drew him towards the woman unselfconsciously and helped to settle his nerves.

    ¡®Trained he says. As though a young pup like you could ever be a threat to a worn out woman like me. Come closer. It¡¯s not as though we¡¯re going to be disturbed this late at night. Even with the moon as bright as it is.¡¯

    Cris was closer to the woman now, he was better able to make out her features the closer that he approached and to his surprise she was far younger than he had thought. The streaks of red in her hair accompanied a mixture of grey and silver and her skin was softer. The wear on her skin was an effect, designed to make her appear older from a distance. A cosmetic one and a clever trick which he should have paid better attention to. At most she was ten to fifteen years older than him which would put her in her mid-to late thirties at best.

    Her voice startled Cris from his observations. As the moon shone down into the alley onto her face she gave him a quick smile but he noticed her eyes flicker behind him, likely towards the locked back tavern door her compatriot had left through.

    He wondered for the first time why exactly nobody else had been out to relieve themselves given the state of the toilets inside the tavern, they were severely lacking in his eyes but more likely given the quality of the patrons it was standard.

    The women surprised him with a bright smile and even cleaner white teeth. When most women around, including the tavern waitress he had told the joke to had spoken to him their teeth had been dirty at best. Her price wasn¡¯t as bad as he¡¯d considered. The woman let her smile reach her eyes before she gave him a wink and a little flourish with her hands as she put them on the sides of her cheeks.

    ¡®Finally noticed I¡¯m not as old a hag as you first expected? The kiss is for me alone and nothing to do with you. You¡¯ve used your eyes enough, show me a little of your skill with my comrade here before he leaves. Or if you prefer we can do the latter in privacy in case you¡¯re concerned about watching eyes. She tolerates it, I¡¯ve heard. Doesn¡¯t like it but tolerates it. Still, all you nobles prefer everything to be above board. Ah, sorry my Lord. Should I have addressed you properly for our little arrangement first?¡¯ said Agnes.

    ¡®I...didn¡¯t make a formal agreement nor a contract. I¡¯d prefer not to be caught I will stick to the nature of the deal as long as you give me something in return. I need answers. Even stories would do, I want to know if you¡¯re truly augmented and what happened to you. I don¡¯t believe in the propaganda put out by the Church of Purity. We used to have gods, more than one and something happened. And don¡¯t call me a Lord. My last name none of your business in return. I only share it with it with people I actually like and we¡¯re not there yet.¡¯The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The look that Agnes gave him with a wry smile on her face chilled him for a moment before he regained his composure. He needed to make sure that this wasn¡¯t a one sided agreement.

    ¡®I¡¯m not as desperate as that to force anything further on you. Don¡¯t you know that a little fear gives more cooperation that actual physical violence? Not we wouldn¡¯t rough you up a little if you needed it. Mostly, they go with us willingly. They get paid and have an interesting time and then head back to their fancy places on the hill. No, you remind me of someone I once knew a long time ago.¡¯ said Agnes and she beckoned towards Cris to approach her along the alley.

    The entrance to the alley had remained quiet the entire time and he could roughly hear a little bit of noise coming from behind the tavern door but other than that it was just the three figures in the alley in the moonlight. The smell was beginning to get to him and Cris realised that he hadn¡¯t been the first one that day who¡¯d decided to enter the back alley of the tavern to relieve his bowels. Given the opportunity he¡¯d need to find a better quality of tavern which used purity magic on a regular basis to eradicate traces of disease and pestilence and maintained a decent standard of quality.

    ¡®Feeling shy about Richter here? You¡¯ll understand when you get closer. He won¡¯t notice a thing, he only barely tolerates me holding him due to his exceptional memory. Get over here boy. Better. What¡¯s your name?¡¯ asked Agnes as Cris approached her from the opposite side to the cloaked figure held strongly in her arm.

    ¡®Johan.¡¯ said Cris as he walked towards her, his feet close to shuffling along as he deliberately scuffed them.

    The situation hadn¡¯t turned out how he had expected but he wasn¡¯t going to underestimate anyone he met in an alleyway. A knife to the ribs and a few kicks to the head when he was lying on the floor would have been enough to kill him and he had no plans to die just yet. Not when he had more than enough to still live for. At the least he had more questions and they had answers. It certainly wasn¡¯t how he imagined his evening turning out to be, he¡¯d been either fortunate or unlucky that his butler Alessandro had the day and night off from his duties.

    ¡®You can call me Johan. Johan Seiner.¡¯ said Cris.

    The weight of the white metal dagger against his back gave him a little comfort but he¡¯d already used up enough energy boosting what purity magic he had into it before it would slowly dissipate. Without the warmth of the tavern and any additional clothing the cold in the night was beginning to seep into him and he gave an involuntary shiver.

    Agnes smiled at him, flashing her teeth and reaching out an outstretched arm with the palm facing up as though inviting him closer. She flexed her fingers before pacing a single digit on her lips. Her eyes roamed across Cris as though taking in every part of him.

    Her other arm remained tightly gripped onto the eerily unmoving form of Richter before she released her grip on him and rushed forward sweeping Cris into both of her arms. She half-pulled, half-dragged him against the alley wall with one hand while the other made another intricate gesture to the figure she called Richter. The entirely cloaked figure crouched down onto on all fours before leaping up into the air and grabbed hold of of an edge of the alleyway wall lifting themselves up and balancing on the top.

    The bright moonlight made the sudden motion easier to see but Cris hadn¡¯t been clear on exactly how the man could leap like a cat would onto a wall without the aid of any grappling equipment or rope. He had simply been in the stone back tavern alley and the next on top of the wall.

    Is that the true power of an augmented?

    After the cloaked figure had leaped up, brown clothing rippling behind him, Cris was certain that he heard a growl on top one of the alley side walls before the woman Agnes moved her fingers again rapidly in another hand gesture and the noise stopped.

    Her speed was faster than Cris had anticipated and he found both his arms pinned to the side and the face of Agnes nuzzling his neck and hot breath from her mouth on his skin giving him goosebumps before she raised her face to look into her eyes.

    ¡®You¡¯re a good liar. Your eyes don¡¯t look up and left when you lie, but you still need a bit more practice. Don¡¯t feel bad though, I¡¯ve got an unfair advantage. Richter is...keeping watch. Just in case you¡¯re not what you seem to be. Not that anyone does. Not really.¡¯ said Agnes.

    The grip pinning his arms was also far stronger than he had been expecting, either Agnes was a great deal stronger than she looked or she was something else entirely. Cris had heard stories of soldiers who were injured during the war and used as test subjects. The corruption from the magically developed virus during the war with the evil kingdom was found to have a minimal effect on limbs made of metal and boosted with purity magic.

    His face being so close to hers, Cris was clearly able to notice that the iris of one of her eyes was a light gold. The eye itself moved but not at the same time as her other natural eye. Another question to throw on the pile when he was out of this alleyway and in a more comfortable setting.

    The next sensation was her lips and mouth pressing onto his with a deep hunger. Cris returned the kiss Agnes offered him and his arms were unpinned as her hands wrapped around his neck and head pulling him in deeper.

    He considered fighting back against her but given the strength of her grip, all she had to do was apply a little bit more pressure and likely she could snap his neck or give him a serious injury.

    Not the first woman who could break me apart. Thought Cris silently as he counted the time passing. Her tongue was deep inside her mouth and her lips were planted strong enough that he decided not to try and kiss back but to accept it.

    He was beginning to grow dizzy from lack of breath when the women released her arms around his neck and pulled back her mouth from his. He¡¯d been half-expecting rotted teeth or a stench from her mouth but there had been nothing. Not a single scent, not even perfume or soap.

    Unconsciously Cris sucked in the cold air of the alley into his lungs, causing him to cough for a moment. He knew that he wasn¡¯t the best kisser, not enough practice despite his positive luck with woman. The one in front of him seemed satisfied though, her skin glowed brighter and Cris realised that his body felt weaker. Using his trained sense the degree of corruption inside the woman¡¯s aura had lessened to a degree.

    She had been after more than him than just a kiss, deciding to push energy into the white metal knife sheathed on his lower back had been a bigger mistake than he thought.

    Or they were planning to kidnap him and try and ransom him back. Not that his manservant Alessandro would be willing to pay for him, he¡¯d made that clear enough once Cris had become old enough to begin spending his nights out looking for answers to old questions.

    ¡®Relax kid. You look more worried than a new recruit with their first time on the battlefield. I haven¡¯t kissed anyone yet who didn¡¯t enjoy the experience. Nobody is going to treat you badly and you¡¯re in no immediate danger. After all, you paid for our direct protection. Tonight you¡¯re safer than most. Didn¡¯t I tell you? We¡¯re mercenaries. Richter is up top of the alley wall to keep an eye out for danger, Marley has gone back to the tavern to sooth over rough feelings and find us a place with a little privacy. From the little taste you offered me you¡¯ve got a high degree of purity running through you. Obviously, you¡¯re not a monk or a priest but you¡¯ve peaked my interest. Would you like another quick kiss before we leave this stinking alleyway behind us?¡¯ asked Agnes as she made another intricate gesture with a raised hand.

    Her other hand brushed through her hair and she flashed another bright smile towards Cris as her clean, white, polished teeth glinted in the moonlight.

    Cris could only shiver in response. He didn¡¯t know if it was from the cold or the encounter but he shook his head. He¡¯d done his part, it was down to them to reciprocate.

 Book 1 Ch 3: Failed Purity

    The basement structure wasn¡¯t quite what Cris had been expecting judging from the surface appearance of the tavern a floor above.

    For one they had a better selection of wines than was offered but he supposed that their clientele who paid enough to enter down below the tavern after passing through a tunnel and then several guarded underground rooms to enter a faux luxurious style room with tacky wallpaper and matching gold painted furniture which was peeling expected it.Chap quality makes people feel satisfied.

    In a way he would have felt more at home here, his own furnishings in his home were old but good quality, they had been repainted and varnished several times but he had never been one of the richer nobles. Not since his own mother had chosen to abandon him to the care of the main house servant at the tender age of eight years old and then decide to remarry to one of the Lords of the city.

    ¡®Is this it? This is the place where the rogue trainee priests come down to give their own prayers and reinforcements of purity magic from the Goddess? I appreciate the fact that you gave me half my scrip back but was there a need to take my only weapon away from me?¡¯ asked Cris as he decided to sit down on a particularly plump looking armchair with red velvet backing and caved wooden edging

    The room itself wasn¡¯t overly large, a dozen feet in each direction with a single entrance door and a smaller enclosed curtained area at the back which fenced off the space. There was a dampness in the air similar to the alleyway but it was covered over with the smell of strong perfume.

    The use of purity and light magic within the area had been used so much even on a smaller level he could sense it literally embedded into the atmosphere using his aura.

    Nothing like on the scale of a temple of the Goddess but closer than he had been for at least a year since he had dropped out of his studies of his own accord. The sensation was nostalgic and brought back a few memories but Cris wanted to focus on his immediate survival.

    So far, he¡¯d been threatened in a back alley of a tavern, forced to take a kiss, then cover himself with a heavy cloak clearly contaminated from corruption and then enter the tavern guarded by two figures in front and one following closely behind

    ¡®Thinking¡­.thinking doesn¡¯t win wars. Action wins wars. Killing...is¡­.killing...kill¡­¡¯ said the voice behind Cris.

    The sound was harsh as though the person talking was trying to remember how to talk clearly. Given the extent of corruption magic Cris was overly surprised, it was mostly balanced out but on the verge of tipping over from what he could detect using his trained magical aura senses.

    He wasn¡¯t going to turn his head, all he knew was that the one who was called Richter was slowly becoming more aware and talkative when they¡¯d passed through the last tunnel and final door into this room. Likely the borrowed powers of the Goddess were countering the corruption which ran deep in him.¡®Enough. Were you given permission to speak freely soldier?¡¯ asked Agnes.

    Her words were responded to with a slow shake of Richter''s head from side to side before he simply stood in place, as though an automaton or a golem waiting for further instructions.

    She had taken a type of sofa which spread out allowing her to lie down and stretch out her limbs. Underneath her heavy woollen cape and hood she was wearing an armour in a style he hadn¡¯t seen before.

    Similar to leather in that it enclosed her entire body but it fit far better, closer to skin tight but not entirely revealing of her curves. The outfit was mostly black with several golden patches, her legs and arms were covered and one of her hands wore a single black glove.

    ¡®Taken a good enough look...Johan?¡¯ asked Agnes as she sprawled herself out and settled into a groove in the sofa, letting her long legs dangle off the edge as one arm was thrown across her chest.

    Cris examined the room, using his aura sense to detect exactly how much purity magic had been used inside the confines. The strongest traces of it were based around the closed curtained off area at the back, any sources of minor corruption had mostly been eliminated or at least blocked off from entering the area.

    The curtains themselves were heavy thick matching pairs, enough to block out the lights that shone from the ceiling. Cris couldn¡¯t tell what if anything was behind them. For all he knew it was a butchers table and this was all an elaborate stage for individuals infected with enough corruption that they had become cannibals and lost all sense of mortality and order.

    ¡®Go and wait inside. The usual practice. Marley will be back with us shortly, I¡¯ll stay here and keep an eye out. Go on soldier, we¡¯re not fighting right now. The war isn¡¯t over but you can stand down and recover. We need you at fighting levels. Go.¡¯ said Agnes as she made a series of gestures on her hands intertwining her fingers before clapping them together.

    The one called Richter, still covered in a brown leather cape and hood turned his attention towards Agnes. He slowly nodded his head forwards before he turned his entire body towards Cris.

    Wondering whether the figure was finally going to speak, he just stood there before shifting back in the direction of the curtained area and shuffled with heavy and deliberate steps across the red soft carpet flooring.

    When Richter had been looking at him Cris was certain he saw a flash of two deep blue lights within his hood. They hadn¡¯t been eyes but more like a lamp that had been turned up to a high brightness before being dimmed down again.

    Then again the augmented were meant to have been experimental soldiers who had died or been recalled during the post-war period when the true nature of the magical corruption had become apparent after the Dark Lord had been killed.

    The voice of the woman called Agnes drew Cris back from his thoughts. He knew that most of his education had been provided from the Church of Light and Purity when he had been enrolled as a final favour from his mother. He was lacking in knowledge in many areas.

    ¡®You look good enough to eat. Joking. Once you get to know Richter a little better, you¡¯ll understand how much he loves to play the drama queen. Not relation at all to her blessed Majesty of course. We all love the Queen and her King Consort after all, especially when this place is likely connected via sound tubes and a few people love listening in despite being paid more than enough for complete privacy.¡¯ said Agnes.

    Cris had the impression that her last words weren¡¯t directed towards him but they made sense near enough.

    When he¡¯s been a student anyone caught either making a mockery of the Queen or her husband were usually given a light beating before routine and dull punishment duties were allocated for a week.

    He turned his attention towards the decor of the room. More than a little had been spent here, likely to create a decent impression for what was a semi-illegal place to conduct business.

    The flooring of the room was covered in a rich, red and soft carpet that was partially fraying where it hit the walls, the ceiling was lit in a bright chandelier with enough alchemical lights to keep the place brightly lit for a long time without any need for replacement.In short, he realised that this room had resources spent on it, more than the tavern above their heads would make from selling cheap drinks and even cheaper forms of entertainment.

    Agnes lay down on the long couch sprawled out with both her hands tucked behind her head and her legs folded upright.

    ¡®Relax a little, we can begin when Marley returns. And if he doesn¡¯t return then we¡¯ll begin anyway. I told you, paying customers are directly under our protection. What happened earlier was just a little threat to put you in the right frame of mind. Of course, if you didn¡¯t happen to give a display of your magical abilities then...I¡¯ll leave that to your imagination shall I, Mister Johan Seiner?¡¯If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Trying his best to settle into the red velvet chair Cris couldn¡¯t help but fidget a little. None of the guards along the way had uttered a single word to any of them when they had walked through, they¡¯d simply pushed open doors and held them open as they walked through.

    Likely, it was just a usual event of taking a trainee priest down to do a service and then bringing them back out safely. He scratched his fingernails on the armrest of the velvet chair to find it was covered in a thin layer of dust.

    Unless this place was also used as a source of entertainment for other purposes then channelling light and purity magic into those corrupted enough to want to pay for it¡¯s removal or halting effects on the body didn¡¯t make a lot of sense to him.

    Cris had truly believed in the Goddess once when he¡¯d been a student, it was only when he¡¯d begun to raise questions, too many questions with both his tutors and fellow students that he¡¯d been given a choice.

    As for now he believed that the Goddess was real, anybody inside the city or within miles away in the countryside could see her avatar hung in the air visible above her main temple. Her powers were clear as was the corruption that blighted the living and the land to various amounts.

    There was a rough noise from behind the curtain as something heavy was dropped onto the floor, from the sound of it, behind the curtain there wasn¡¯t the same soft red carpet which filled the rest of the underground room floor. No, it had been a solid noise, one which drew his attention in the otherwise quietness of the room.

    Given that Agnes was either asleep or doing a decent impression of it and not interested in talking to him and Marley was still on his way down here Cris considered the rules the Goddess had established in the city.

    He¡¯d only been a young boy when the war with the Dark Lord had ended in it¡¯s defeat and relatively sheltered in a minor noble¡¯s small estate with his mother and old grandfatherly house servant Alessandro.

    His time as a student had given him enough of the rules though and how the Goddess chose to interact with mortals through her affiliated followers and leaders and obviously Queen Averill herself given that she was head of the state church.

    The Goddess had never forbidden gambling, alcohol or other sources of recreation which humans tended to enjoy. Despite her obvious levels of power she and her priesthood. d who followed her only followed strict rules regarding corruption magic and any cultists stupid enough to try and harness it.

    He¡¯d been permitted to see a few before they¡¯d been killed out of sight or brought into the Asylum of Light or it¡¯s old name of Kirkbride Castle.

    ¡®I can hear you thinking from here boy. It¡¯s exhausting to try and relax a little in a safe and comfortable environment when you keep fidgeting with that chair. Would you prefer to walk around and pace the room a little? Richter will be ready when he¡¯s ready. I do plan on sticking to our deal. Marley is taking a lot time though, I bet the rogue decided to head back to the tavern above us for a drink or he got caught up in a gambling game with High Heeled Alice. Not someone you want to meet though, you¡¯re a little young for her tastes.¡¯ said Agnes.

    She pulled herself upright and planted her hands on her knees stretching her neck a little before placing her hand on the sofa and pushing herself to her feet. Cris heard an audible groan from the piece of furniture as she pushed down hard on it. A quick reminder of her actual strength.

    Stopping himself from looking directly at her strange armoured suit covered body he focused his attention on the same curtains which Richter had entered. Another heavy thud resounded in the room, similar in volume to earlier before Cris talked to Agnes without taking his attention away from the curtained area at the back of the room.

    ¡®No. I¡¯d prefer my questions answered but I understand that I still need to treat your...friend there. Why don¡¯t you find the local trainee priest or priestess who needs extra coin to pay for their studies? I might even recall a few who are still working there and do a better job than me. My abilities regarding purity and light magic are better focused on finesse not amounts of power. This situation doesn¡¯t make sense.¡¯ said Chris as he resisted the urge to stand up and run for the wooden doors that led out of the room.

    Likely, the two guards who had opened the door were still there. Not that any of them were armed with weapons he had noticed, not visibly.

    Without his own white metal dagger he couldn¡¯t do much, not that trying to fight against two men would go well for him. He¡¯d had some combat training, enough to boost his confidence but not so that he could go out and pick a fight and hope to win. It had been a large part of the reason that he had agreed to come along to this place.

    A voice came out from behind the curtained area, different to the earlier harsh tones which had mentioned killing. This was smoother, softer and the clear voice of a young man, only a few years older than Cris¡¯s eighteen years of age.

    ¡®I¡¯m ready Commander. Prepared for vital infusions in anticipation of combat. Readiness holding steady. Balance maintained.¡¯ said Richter.

    Rather than wait for Agnes to tell him, Cris decided to take action of his own initiative and stood up from the red velvet chair on which he had scored a few lines across the armrests using his fingernails.

    He shook his head and remembered that when they had taken his white metal blade away they had also removed his instrument of channelling his light and purity magic into a manageable form.

    The consequences of using it hands on had been deeply imprinted on him when he¡¯d been a student and he¡¯d prefer not to have his mind become more rigid and focused than it already was. All magic had a price, corruption or purity and he didn¡¯t want to pay more than he had to besides a good dose of soul and physical exhaustion.

    ¡®Agnes, I need a channelling tool. You took my knife away, which I¡¯m going to need back after this, to make myself clear but I¡¯m not going in there to try and boost your friend with my bare hands. I¡¯ve at least heard the rumours of the Blessed and I¡¯ve not interest in becoming one, no matter how much the church loves them.¡¯ said Cris as he folded his arms.

    Beneath his shoes, the red carpet was comfortable enough but likely it hadn¡¯t been cleaned, the same as the dust on the chair armrest or the long couch which Agnes had lay upon. In his eyes, this room was comparable to the kingdom, an attempt at vanity while underlying issues were ignored.

    ¡®A tool. You either provide me with a tool with I¡¯m heading out of those doors. Going along with all this doesn¡¯t mean that I have to accept. I¡¯m not a slave or a thrall of yours, we have no visible contract beyond a verbal one.¡¯ said Cris as he turned his head and attention to the wooden entry doors into the room.

    The chandeliers above their heads dimmed for a moment before the room fell into complete darkness and then lit brightly back up. Even though it only been less than a second, Agnes had immediately changed her pose and posture. One of her feet was forward and the other behind her as she stood sideways.

    ¡®Cris. Get inside that space with Richter. Without Marley here I¡¯m not going to be able to keep you secure and deal with this.¡¯ said Agnes as her face became expressionless.

    A breeze pushed into the room as one of the doors opened creaked open and a smell of decay and wafted in.

    Hesitating for a moment, his stomach began to turn as a sense of corruption magic stronger than most he had experienced outside of being in the immediate vicinity of a cultist or standing on the walls of the city struck into his aura senses.

    Agnes reached into an unseen pocket on her outfit and pulled out a small glowing stone before bringing it to her lips and speaking into it

    ¡®Marley, Richter, the location is compromised. Initiate burn protocol, repeat. Initiate burn protocol. Agnes out.¡¯

    As the other wooden door began to creak open, Agnes pressed both her feet to the floor and burst forward, both arms pumping as she slammed into both doors with outstretched hands and pushed them shut. A raw force behind the doors cracked part of the wooden frame as it opposed her movements.

    ¡®...How do you know my name?¡¯ asked Cris. ¡®I never told you my real name.¡¯

    He was still stood, standing in front of the red chair as another burst of corruption magic expanded it¡¯s way to his senses, the embedded residual purity within the walls and furnishings managed to keep it far enough away from his aura to avoid throwing up.

    There were figures beyond, corrupted enough that he could sense their movements and see their outlines in his minds eye. More than a few from the feeling of things and they were active and trying to force their way into the room. The smell of decay in the air only grew as they continued to increase in number. Robed figures. There was something about them that irked Cris.

    Wrong. They move wrong. Not like humans move.

    The chandelier on the ceiling began to fluctuate again as the alchemical lights exploded in short, raw flashes of light and the room plunged into darkness. Cris experienced a painful impact on his head and upper shoulders as he collapsed to the floor and began to rapidly lose consciousness.

    The last experience he felt was the softness of the red plush carpet on the surface of his skin as screams of fear and anger echoed into his ears and his eyes unconsciously closed themselves in the absence of a light source.

    ¡®We will find you. Cris, you need to survive. We will find yo-¡¯ shouted out Agnes.

 Book 1 Ch 4: Call me Disease Master

    Pain flooded his senses.

    His eyes were glued shut and an aching headache were the first thing Cris experienced as he involuntarily sucked in a large breath and prepared to shout when he realised a voice was talking to him.

    He tried to move his legs and arms and his backside had pins in needles in it as stopped himself from forcing his eyes open. He¡¯d prefer to save what energy he had remaining and gain some awareness before he woke to a room of violence and dead bodies and lost control of his emotions and wasted the opportunity.

    His hands were loosely restricted, he could lift his wrists and fingers and little else. Feet, the same. Tight restrictions but not enough that he had lost feeling in his limbs. He was clearly put into a sitting position but there was a warmth at his back.

    Possibly another who was captured like himself.

    Cris doubted that it was one of the augmented but he wouldn¡¯t know unless he tried to talk to them first. That could wait as he needed to keep himself calm and collected and give his situation a little room to think.

    Recalling the last moments before he had lost consciousness, he resisted the urge to call out and let his aura sense give him feedback as he accepted the drain on his energy reserves that it came with.

    There was a strange sensation, a type of magic he hadn¡¯t ever experienced before. As though someone had contained various types of corruption inside a glass bottle but restricted them heavily and removed the infectious nature of the magic.

    His stomach hurt but it wasn¡¯t down to injury, Cris had tried some of the food that the tavern had on offer but he¡¯d only taken a few bites before the cheap quality of drink on offer had made him want to relieve himself in the back alleyway.

    Agnes. Richter. Marley.

    Alessandro.

    Out of the four names, the three he barely knew but Alessandro would notice his absence if it had been long enough. They had argued about life choices of all things and the head servant of his house had watched him walk out the door into the early evening of the city. The old man would either be concerned like a mother hen or accept Cris was becoming an adult in his own right.

    Focus Cris.

    Immediate situation.

    There was corruption inside this room but it was minimal, further away it was deeper and stronger but as his stomach ached again Cris simply lacked the energy to keep his aura sense active and let it drop.

    The voice that had been talking to him had stopped for a moment and begun again. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure but the previous words had been in a strange tone, a language which flickered on his the very edge of his awareness but he couldn¡¯t place it clearly.

    ¡®Hello? Are you a friend or a captor?¡¯ said Cris aloud.

    The voice stopped talking and he realised that the sound of it was almost directly behind him.

    ¡®I¡¯m a prisoner. Hey buddy, do you think they sold us as raw meat? I mean the cultists here, they love the raw meat diet when they get crazy enough with this magical disease of yours. I think if they try eating me they¡¯ll all die of worse diseases, I don¡¯t taste good. Can you use your magic to try and free us both or do I need to wait for my bodyguard to turn up?¡¯ said the voice.

    The accent was odd, he understood the words clearly enough but the accent was strange in a way that was different than even the visiting merchants that he had heard visit from the cities near the capital city of the kingdom.

    ¡®I can¡¯t place where you¡¯re from. Are you visiting Nurburg from one of the other cities on the borders of the old kingdom?¡¯ asked Cris.

    Flexing his hands and finger, he squeezed his toes tight and tried to roll his feet around to get more feeling back into them. The bindings restricting him weren¡¯t heavy enough to weigh him down but when he tried to lift his arms up they remained taut.

    Likely rope.

    Chains are a waste of time.

    Forcing his gluey eyes open he blinked a few times to find himself in a simple stone room. The floor was covered in stone slabs and the walls were much the same. There were several small sources of light that illuminated the room but they were outside of his immediate field of vision.

    Alchemically treated torches. Same as the temple. They emit a similar light. Designed to block traces of corruption and blessed by the Goddess Aliza.

    ¡®Oh, wow, I¡¯m tied up behind a racist. I see how it is, you hear my accent and immediately call me a foreigner. Then again, if we met face to face you¡¯d call me a foreigner as well. Hey, I¡¯m calling you a foreigner as well, boy. Yeah, how do you like being called a boy?¡¯ came the voice.

    Cris stretched his eyes but all he could make out was a stone wall, then he noticed several large hanging chains that dangled down from the dark grey ceiling with several dark patches on the wall.

    ¡®I wasn¡¯t born in this city either, nor was my father and mother. I get called foreigner as well, I¡¯m Cristiano or Cris. We moved here when I was a baby and people like looking at me funny as well asking me where I¡¯m from. How about we work together to find a way out of this place?¡¯ as he tried absorbing in details with his eyes, smelling out for any traces of fresh blood or meat and listening for any sounds of movements.

    The voice behind Cris took in a deep breath and a sigh before the man replied. His tone indicated that he was trying to be friendlier but he was certain that the man was mainly bored with the whole situation as though they were chatting in a city restaurant.

    ¡®I have two questions for you then Cristiano. Nice name. You are not from around here with a name like that. I¡¯m Maxton. Maxton Confucius Ge. Call me Ge. Or you can call me Disease Master. As long as you don¡¯t call me a foreigner then we¡¯re all good. My name doesn¡¯t translate well in this...provincial language of yours Trust me, Disease Master is way more powerful than it sounds. You never answered my question, how¡¯s your magic? Or again, my bodyguard is likely on his way right now. He gets angry when I¡¯m not around him and not for my own protection either.¡¯ said the voice. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    The accent was odd but Cris had his own experiences growing up in the capital city of the kingdom and had been called out enough or his own appearance of light brown hair, olive skin and green eyes. As long as the man tied up behind him wasn¡¯t a threat then they¡¯d get along fine. He didn¡¯t really understand why he wanted to be called Disease Master though.

    ¡®Ge, what can you see on your side. I¡¯ve got a stone wall, several large chains hanging from the ceiling, what could be several large patched of dried blood and all illuminated by a light source where I can¡¯t see it¡¯ said Cris.

    ¡®No. You need to answer my questions first. My bodyguard will be here soon enough and I¡¯m going to tell him to leave you tied up as raw meat for chaotic mind melted cultists to snack on. These ropes are annoying, they treated them especially with oil so they can¡¯t be burnt through but it strengthens the material every time I try and stretch them out a little. Stupid intelligent cultists, stupid small city full of stupid foreigners who keep calling me a foreigner or try and talk to me either slowly or overly loud. Sorry buddy, I¡¯m done complaining. Answers. He¡¯ll be here real soon, then we can work out where we ended up.¡¯ said the man.

    Cris tested the strength of the ropes holding him, if they had been specially treated with oil as the man had said then trying to burn through them with light magic would simply ignite them as as well as his clothing.

    He knew that was beginning to smell a little though, he was badly in need of a warm bath and a decent meal prepared by the house cook.

    Not wanting to exhaust himself into unconsciousness through excessive use of his magical senses Cris gave in to his hungry stomach and now parched throat and decided to respond to the man. He¡¯d been told to wait by a woman he barely knew besides meeting her for a few hours at best and a forceful kiss.

    Unless Alessandro was able to track him down and he wasn¡¯t still angry at Cris for arguing with him then he was stuck on his own with this interesting man and his bodyguard who had yet to appear.

    If this particular situation was as bad as Chris thought it was then he and Ge had both been kidnapped by cultists, in his case because they wanted an easy kill to remove remove someone who had been gifted by the Goddess of light and purity magic.

    The man on the other hand was a little crazy if he wanted to be called Disease Master as a title. Even alchemists promoting their business wouldn¡¯t want to call themselves that, maybe before the magical virus that struck after the kingdom had succeeded in killing the armies and in extension the life force of the Dark Lord itself but not currently.

    Taking in a deep breath of the air which tasted faintly of copper Cris replied to the man as he stretched his wrists once more. He was at least thankful that he had been left fully clothed and his shoes and socks left on. Waking up naked and tied up would have been far worse but he wouldn¡¯t have put it past the woman called Agnes to try it on. She was an odd relative stranger.

    ¡®Ge, I¡¯ll answer your two questions if you answer a few of mine. First I want to know what you can see and then if you¡¯ve met anyone called Agnes, Marley or Richter. We have a deal? I¡¯d shake on it but my hands are a little tied up at the moment.¡¯ finished Cris with a slight chuckle.

    He didn¡¯t hear the man laugh in response to his attempt at a joke but there was a vibration of movement which betrayed his response. Clearly, he understood the nuances of the language well enough to take in a joke or he had just been poisoned and died.

    Cris sometimes wished his mind didn¡¯t go to dark places so often in times of stress but it was always better than the alternative of shouting out loud to be rescued or helped. Beyond his obvious physical discomfort at being tied up and sat down along with his lack of energy he hadn¡¯t been harmed in any obvious way.

    ¡®Hmm¡­.nope. Never heard of them. Unless you¡¯re talking about three, gene-bonded partial-superhumans who are a woman, a man and someone in-between as far as I can tell. Wait, do you even know what that word means? No offence but your backwards kingdom is a little lacking in the sense of knowledge and science despite the power of your little Goddess of Energy.¡¯ said the man.

    Holding back a retort at the obvious insult the man was directing to the deity which had guarded the kingdom since the magical virus had begun on the battlefields and ravaged the countryside and city people Cris responded. ¡®A super what? Augmented. We call them augmented¡­.Disease Master Ge. I thought they died out after or during the war..¡¯ said Cris.

    This time the same vibrational movement shook the wooden chair which Cris had been tied up to and he recognised that the man was likely in another chair, almost but not quite sitting back to back. The warmth that he felt was from the man¡¯s own body opposite his own.

    ¡®Objects of curiosity I¡¯d call them. Or would relics be a better word. I like you. You show respect to your elders. Your language is easy to speak but hard to explain in. My name for one, it doesn¡¯t translate well. Forget it, I¡¯ve answered your questions so you can answer two of mine before my bodyguard arrives. Ah, and if you hear screaming outside this room don¡¯t be worried, he doesn¡¯t like killing but he¡¯s very good at it. When he arrives you need to shut up and let me talk to him. Oh, I¡¯m bored. This is very boring. I¡¯ve been caught by worse banditry than these. Perhaps the illness damages their frontal cortex. Ignore my words, you won¡¯t understand them.¡¯

    As Cris was going to respond he heard a hard thump on wood and a splintering sound before a cry of pain rang out and ended. The distance was far enough away from his location before another thudding sound was heard but this time it was closer. Cris recognised it as flesh hitting stone.

    He¡¯d heard stories as a student that those who were deeply corrupted but aware enough of their own slow decay into bestial states tried to slow the growth of the disease on themselves through self-inflicted pain on surfaces. It was the main reason that the Queen herself had passed into kingdom protected law to protect all sufficiently corrupted by bringing them onto the Asylum of Light and True Health where they would be restricted from both harming themselves and others.

    The Goddess of Light and Purity wanted the corruption removed from the land but not at the cost of inflicting massive casualties on those who had been infected unwillingly.There were a series of shouts and scream outside the room that they were in, Cris was unable to see the door from his present location but he could imagine that it was likely a metal studded door which was keeping them inside.

    His thoughts were interrupted then man calling himself Maxton Ge interrupted him as he shook his own bindings. Cris heard the sound of metal lightly striking metal. The other man wasn¡¯t bound in rope as he was, he had far stronger material holding in in place.

    ¡®He¡¯s almost outside. He can detect my presence and I his at all times. He is taking his time despite his instructions. I¡¯d be worried if he changed any more than he has already. My bad influence I imagine is giving him the illusion that he has sentience. These chains are growing heavier, I shall reprimand him for his lack of precision in locating me. Because you display the correct court protocol I¡¯ll only ask you a simple one. Why haven¡¯t you used your obvious physically structured and boosted magical powers to break through the bindings and then free yourself from this place?¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    Before Cris could answer there was a massive splintering sound followed as the reinforced door was smashed forwards and fell down to the floor with a final crash. Wooden pieces and splinters skidded across the floor beneath his feet and hit the stone wall opposite him.

    A voice which Cris didn¡¯t recognise but resounded with an odd twang as though the owner of it was talking into a broken metal tube sounded out before it adjusted into a more human-like formal tone.

    [Disease Master Confucius Ge, I have effected your rescue. All hostile heavily infected hosts have been removed from within twenty metres of this cell and rendered incapable of violent engagement. Please do not move as your bindings are removed. Is your...guest to be recognised as a willing recruit or a direct threat? This one awaits instructions.]

 Book 1 Ch 5: The Man with No Name

    Cris had been surprised when the construct had approached him and snapped the ropes holding him down with two fingers before grabbing and flinging them to the back wall where they hit and slid down to the floor.

    His hunger and thirst were beginning to grow, and he wasn¡¯t sure if the entire experience that he had gone through so far was a delusion produced by his mind and he wasn¡¯t just passed out in the back alley of the tavern after someone had drugged his drink.

    ¡®Ren. Meet Cristiano, he¡¯s a foreigner like me. Not like you obviously, anyone calling you foreigner would have to understand that you¡¯re not made of meat, flesh and bone like we are. Cristiano, this is my bodyguard and executioner if necessary. Call him Ren. He won¡¯t mind. His name has its own meaning in my language but you wouldn¡¯t understand it. A kind of joke you see. You don¡¯t speak any other languages do you? Apologies, I forgot to ask.¡¯ said Ge.

    His eyes surprised Chris. Despite his odd appearance as a clear foreigner to these lands his eyes were what drew the most attention. Both of his eyes were a deep golden hue. His skin was lighter than Cris¡¯s own, and his hair, and eyebrows were pure black. He lacked any facial hair on his face though and his skin was smooth and shined with a polish.

    At first glance he was similar to those who hailed from the Graboki Dynasty in the mountains to the East which had once been part of the old kingdom coalition before the Dark Lord was killed.

    ¡®Ren, you¡¯re being rude. Cris, I need to talk with him a moment. Stay away from the door for now. Please, for your own safety. We only need a moment¡¯. said Maxton Ge.

    His golden eyes shined as he blinked and gave Cris a reassuring hand on his shoulder before turning and pulling Ren to a corner of the room where he began talking in the same musical language that he had heard earlier when he had woken up. There was a shift and drop in tones when they talked, he noticed that much at least but he did keep his distance away from the door but kept his eyes on it warily as he moved to an opposite corner of the room.

    Whether he didn¡¯t understand their spoken language he owed them a debt and a little privacy was worth being rescued. He considered using his aura senses but his near lack of energy stopped him from being effective with them. At the most he had enough for another quick burst check unless he was able to find something safe to eat and drink. The moss on the wall and drips of water on the stone from the metal hooks on the ceiling weren¡¯t appetising.

    Instead he turned his attention towards studying the build of Ren. The pair didn¡¯t seem to care that Cris was watching them as long as he kept a suitable difference. When Maxton Ge noticed he just waved a hand at him, gave a smile and carried on talking to Ren with occasional hand gestures as though to emphasise a point.

    The appearance of the construct called Ren had surprised Cris far more than his voice had, for all he was able to tell he was a normal human. There was simply enough specific detail designed onto him that he would easily pass as a soldier from a distant kingdom.

    Dressed in an old, even ancient style of armour with an attached sword and shield he passed for a man in his mid-thirties, long hair tied back into a bob on the back of his head.

    On his face a fine black moustache and a short beard. The quality of design of whatever paint has been used was unable to be distinguished from living flesh.

    His entire body, except for his hands were covered in the suit of heavy armour with overlapping plates which reached down to his knees and ending in a pair of leather ankle boots. He was partially covered in blood and flesh but it appeared to be absorbed into the materials that had been used to build his body.

    When they had finished their brief conversation Maxton Ge made a shooing motion with his hands as he rolled around a transparent glass ball filled partially with liquid. Cracking it open he drank down the contents in several gulps before rubbing his stomach in apparent satisfaction.

    ¡®The good stuff, that could wipe out a few villages but it¡¯ll satisfy me for now. I¡¯ve yet to adjust to this magical corruption of your kingdom but this will be sufficient for immediate needs of protection. The trick is never to create too virulent. You can say hello to our new friend Ren, he¡¯s obviously not a threat or a trick and if he was I¡¯m pretty sure you could snap his neck easily. Not that would ever happen between comrades of course, unless you fully turned into one of those corrupted and looked to directly being an obstruction. Ren?¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    The construct called Ren turned to look at Maxton with an obvious pressure of displeasure but Cris was unable to detect any change of emotion on his face.

    Crunching several pieces of wood and rock beneath his feet he took several steps across the room towards Cris.

    [My function is to assist Disease Master until he achieves specific goals required by a Son or Daughter of Heaven. Happily once he fails he will die by my hand or if I meet destruction then another or my brothers or sisters will take on the task. Success gives him a sufficient reward. I am pleased to meet you Cristiano. My title is Ren.] said the painted construct and he stuck out his hand in a greeting.

    The fact that the eyes of Ren didn¡¯t blink once and that only the mouth moved but not a single other muscle was odd to say the least but Cris considered himself lucky to meet such a unique creation. He took the expressed hand and gripped it tightly squeezing his own in a clasp.

    ¡®I¡¯ve heard of augmented and stories and several myths of golems who were created through alchemy, prayer and magic but did you build this living wonder? He must be full of tricks. Nice to meet you as well Ren, thank for freeing me even if you didn¡¯t mean to.¡¯ asked Cris as he stretched his body out a little to get some feeling back into his limbs.

    He was still hungry and thirsty but being free was a good start. The thought of either breaking the chair apart and taking part of it as a club or using some of the rope or chain had passed his mind but he simply lacked a great deal of strength to use it effectively.

    His combat training had been fighting against a single opponent who was corrupted before he could knock them down and restrain them. Realistically having two opponents by his side would give him a much higher chance of survival and he¡¯d had no luck from Agnes and the two with her turning up to rescue him.

    Where did they get to?

    I¡¯m running into a lot of strange new friends.

    [Disease Master. Our new companion designate is suffering from a state of hunger and dehydration. Requesting permission to provide him with trial supply goods and preferred basic combat weaponry from storage. I will not supply armour unless necessary. You are most welcome young Master Cris. I¡¯m glad you understand politeness. Disease Master, confirmation is required.] said Ren. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    The construct walked the several strides towards the broken and shattered remains of the door frame and turned on side on as he took his shield and short sword and covered the he entrance with his body blocking anyone who would attempt to gain entry once more.

    Maxton Ge was busy pinching his own skin as he examined one of the walls with dark red splatters as he licked a finger and placed it against the surface before putting the tip of it onto his tongue and smacking his lips.

    ¡®Not pure, this room held several partially contaminated once but the lack of quality continues to frustrate me. Ren, this young man is our fresh comrade. Offer him what he needs and we¡¯ll make our way out of here. I don¡¯t like to cover my shoes in blood and rotten flesh of the mess you made when you performed a satisfactory rescue attempt. We have an appointment schedule to stick to I believe. Do your job Ren and then we leave. I leave the choice up to both of you.¡¯ said Maxton Ge as he continued to run a finger across the stone walls.

    He was either stuck with very strange people or he was the one who wasn¡¯t used to those who lived he in the wider world beyond the capital city and the surrounding countryside. He didn¡¯t have clear memories of the collection of city states he had grown up in aside from stories told to him by his mother before she had left them and Alessandro.

    Old memories hold little value.

    Cris shook his head, he looked at the stone room that they had been left in. Realistically it was a holding cell of sorts, he¡¯d taken a short moment to explore the room but it was mostly bare aside from the two chairs they had been seated in, several hanging chains and hooks from the stone ceiling and plain stone walls with various dark patches.

    Nothing worth trying to take. Time for them to leave. He moved up to Ren who was stood half-way through the doorway.

    ¡®Do you have a spare weapon then Ren?¡¯ asked Cris.

    The construct turned to him and held out the hand holding the sword at an angle while keeping the hand holding the shield covering the door.

    Uncertain if he should take the offered sword Cris turned his gaze back towards Maxton Ge who was focused on the walls before he paid attention to Ren holding the sword at a downward angle.

    ¡®I¡¯d prefer a dagger if you have one to spare. The sword is a nice weapon but not my style, I¡¯ve not been trained in one. No armour? I suppose that any other help is appreciated, I¡¯ve had an...interesting day so far.¡¯ said Cris.

    Ren opened the hand holding the sword and before it fell down onto the floor there was a dark blue glow around his hand as the item simply vanished into thin air. Although he would have been surprised at the trick, Cris was more interested when a leather arm bracer with metal studded straps containing two plain-looking daggers appeared held in the hand of the construct called Ren.

    He reached out and took the leather bracer and strapped it around his arm. Pulling one of the knives out he weighed it in his hand before getting used to the weight. It was a well-balanced blade despite being plain-looking. With his meagre dregs of light and purity magic remaining he reached out a hint of sense to the metal both in his hand and the remaining one in the brace.

    When he received no sensation back in return he accepted the weapon as a plain one but whether or not he would be able to channel light magic into them was a different question. He''d need to determine the strength of the metal in the blades and their suitability when he was able to recover a little more of his own powers.

    After withdrawing the second blade he ran through a basic combat movement which his head servant Alessandro had taught him before clinking both of the knives together and finishing with a deep bow of respect towards Ren.

    His mother had always taught him to show politeness and skill when meeting new allies before she had left him as a young boy. Despite the ten years since he had last seen her, the lessons that she had tried to impart on him as a noble, even as a foreign one in appearance to this kingdom had come in useful.

    Still bowed he adjusted his voice a little. It''d be better than trying to clear out a dry and dusty throat. He''d already been told indirectly that he''d be given trial supply goods and a flask of water and dried meat would help his immediate survival when they had to fight their way out of this corruption cultist den.

    ''I thank you friend Ren. As comrades we will work together and I promise your gift of knives will be put to good use against both our foes.'' said Cris.

    He held the movement likely longer than was necessary and his muscles began to cramp and ache but he would do his best to hold the pose until a verbal response was given.

    [You show the right amounts of respect young Master Cris. I am glad the weapon suits you. It belonged to a skilled bandit leader who tried to kill Disease Master during our long trip here. Do you have a taste preference?] said Ren as he nodded his approval. His body had remained entirely still except for a small movement from his head and arm.

    When he had received a reply and straightened himself ignoring his cramps and ache from his hungry stomach Cris had noticed an odd aspect of the construct, despite it''s precise human appearance it lacked details that you only noticed when you paid close attention.

    For one it was similar to a statue, a highly lifelike statue but it made motions as smooth as any human would. He doubted that he could have maintained a sideways pose holding a shield in the doorway blocking off any potential attacks. The fact that it never breathed, took in a single breath to either exhale or inhale and kept perfectly still was marginally unnerving.

    The voice of Maxton Ge called out.

    ''You gave him my bracer of knives? I was the one who made that bandit leader bleed from his eyes until they exploded. Forget it, Ren, you''re not a walking restaurant, you should be able to recognise from his appearance when he comes from. Just give him the pre-packed noodles. With meat, he''ll need the protein, then give him one of my boosting drinks. The man looks both hungry and dehydrated. I''m sorry Cris, this idiot forgets that he''s dealing with living organic beings on occasion. Not all of us can stand lack of energy. Give him the food and I need to leave this room, it bores me now and I want to have a quick look at any corrupted bodies you sufficiently intact.''

    Cris shook his own head as he patted the leather bracer with twin knives strapped to his arm. Despite his own hunger and thirst being armed had made him far more comfortable than he had earlier. He steadied an arm to the wall next to the door when he experienced another deep hunger pang.

    ''I am grateful for any form of proviso-'' started Cris as he was interrupted.

    Maxton Ge had walked up as he has been talking and with one hand under his armpit held him steady while another gestured towards the construct. He lightly tapped the open hand which had previously glowed blue when both the sword had vanished and the leather bracer had appeared.

    ''Cris, do you know what Ren means? In my language it translates as a person. It isn''t his name. He hasn''t been alive long enough nor done enough for the Sons and Daughters of Heaven to provide him with one. You''d be better off not treating him as a conscious being and rather as some constructed death machine following orders. He might pass as a man in all aspects that you or I do but he remains a man with no name. Ren, forget the noodles and just give him a recovery drink and a container of water. No more of this politeness. We need to find ourselves a quick exit.''

 Book 1 Ch 6: Blood-Licking Demons

    Both of the drinks had appeared in the hand of the construct called Ren in the form of a small green and worn-out patched backpack which dangled his fingers. Cris had taken it and pulled open the light buckled strap to find two bottles inside, one was a transparent glass bottle with a thick yellow liquid and the other was a sealed leather water bottle with a cap.

    There was another sealed box which smelt of meat and other ingredients which clearly meant food but he''d eat them later.

    Cracking open the glass bottle he sniffed the contents which had a hint of exotic fruits which were usually more than a little expensive in the kingdom before he took a small taste and then proceeded to swallow the rest.

    If the odd pair wanted to hurt him or knock him unconscious one more time where he woke up in a room with another stranger then it was likely they would have done so already.

    As the thick liquid ran down his throat and settled in his stomach his hunger began to rapidly fade and he felt sated as though he had eaten a good, solid meal. Not quite like soup but comparable to a sweet fruity stew.

    His energy levels began to grow back faster than he had thought and his heart began to beat a little faster as he finished the last dregs of the glass bottle.

    ¡®Good. I mixed in a little extra to give you a boost, nothing dangerous or addictive. I doubt you have the same ingredients easily available here. Or if you do and they made the long journey by sea or land caravan they¡¯ll lose their potency. Trust me, I¡¯m Disease Master¡­.it translates better in my own tongue. I¡¯d suggest you drink the water and then you can keep both or give them back to Ren, I prefer to minimise resource wastage myself.¡¯ said Maxton Ge as he leaned against the stationary construct with both of his arms folded.

    His face looked better already and his golden eyes shined brighter than before but Cris was certain that he now saw flecks of green in them.

    After draining the contents of the water bottle, Cris realised that he needed to relieve himself once more. He had obviously been thirstier than he had originally thought. Given that his last drink had been in the tavern the night before. Surely, now would have been around early morning at the very least.

    ¡®Ren. The young man needs his privacy for...you know. I can manage without for a good long time myself but the waste is far more dangerous. Ever seen a man drain himself and melt a hole in a wall? Only a small hole mind, but just one of the costs of my own profession. And no, I don¡¯t need to eat just yet. The disease ridden toxin earlier had boosted my energy levels and given me sufficient power for now. Just don¡¯t be close to me if I grab bare flesh with the intent to maim young master Cris. Ren! Let both of us wait outside and you can point out to me how many you killed and left fairly intact for my investigations.¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    Cris watched as the construct guarding the doorway with the shield held out the same hand and the previous sword reappeared with a blue glow. With a single nod he assumed a combat pose with sword and shield and stepped out into the hallway outside of the stone cell.

    Maxton Ge gave a final wink as he pointed to the back of the room and mimed holding a part of his lower anatomy with one hand while grinning and letting out a mock sigh. Then he followed the construct Ren out of the broken doorway and into the same hallway.

    Cris wasn¡¯t sure if the man calling himself Disease Master had been joking about having the power to urinate a liquid that could melt through walls but given how his experiences so far were holding out he wasn¡¯t going to assume he couldn¡¯t.

    Regardless, both of them were dangerous individuals who either had strong magic powers and could fight. He¡¯d seen priests pull similar tricks to the one that Ren had pulled but it was usually through light magic and sufficiently draining to produce a single item to drive them onto their knees.

    The construct Ren had done exactly the same seemingly without effort as though producing items and making them disappear into thin air was nothing special. With his own sigh Cris stepped over the broken remains of the wooden doorway and remnants of stone on the floor and pushed both the chairs to the side.

    Being reminded that he needed to relieve himself had been the finals straw and his bladder did need emptying. Trusting that his two new comrades would watch his back or at least stop any corrupted cultists left outside the cell he went to the far back wall and placed one hand while steadying his feet and pulling his fancy trousers down.

    The smell of strong urine wafted to his senses and somehow made him thankful that the stone cell that they had been tied up was at least a clean one aside from the dark stains across the wall.

    Avoiding getting any on his shoes or his trousers Cris finished his business and with a shake he finished and pulled his trousers up. He took a quick sniff of his armpits and reached into his leather backpack and use the last of the remnants of water in the bottle to wash over his hands.

    He¡¯d been educated as a noble even one considered as a half-breed that cleanliness was one of the ways to differentiate with the unwashed and common types. Despite the quality of his clothing, he¡¯d rather throw them away given the state they were in and the smell lingering to them.

    As soon as he was able to escape from this likely corruption cultist den he¡¯d need to cleanse himself both physically and spiritually in the eyes of the Goddess of Light and Purity.

    A familiar voice called form outside the room. There was the sound of a heavy object being dropped to the floor which Cris assumed was a human body. Another sound echoed out as several more heavy thuds were heard.

    [Young Master Cris, the threats are eliminated from this place. We are free to make our way to the exit. I recall the route. Please finish and you will accompany Disease Master and myself. I have spare trousers and shoes in storage.] said Ren.

    Was that meant to be a joke?

    Cris quickly adjusted his clothing, avoiding stepping in the pool of urine that was now running in a stream across the far wall and made his way out of the doorway as he pulled one of his daggers from the brace strapped to his arm.

    His own magical energies restored somewhat from the liquid food and the fresh flask of water he allowed a minor trickle to run into the blade letting a white glowing line run down.

    He allowed his senses to outstretch a few metres away from his position as he stepped out of the stone cell and almost tripped over as waves of corruption hit his attuned sensitivity.

    The degree of magically created disease was far stronger than usual but it was rapidly waning. It was the positions of corruption that hit him as his physical eyes saw grey robed figures who had once been human with smashed apart heads revealing hints of brain, blood and bone.

    The hallway was filled with a dozen dead corruption cultists who from the look of things had been first smashed through their chest cavity strong enough to cause a hole before their heads and skulls had been pounded in.

    Cris kept his stomach tight and pulled back the sensation of throwing up which was beginning to rise from the pit of his stomach. He¡¯d seen dead bodies before when he¡¯d been training to become a priest of the Goddess at the main temple, humans who had been corrupted with the magical virus and simply died before it had transformed them into monstrous forms but not to this degree of violence.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    The hallway was a straight stone path straight down with Alchemically treated torches running in a neat row on each side, high enough not to be knocked down but low enough to light the entire space brightly. There was no sign of any other cells along the metres long hallway or a door at the end.

    All he could see from the torchlight was a plain looking grey stone with uneven stone flagstones leading to a blank wall at the end. There was a deep hole in one of the walls which was clearly enough for a normal man to fit through but without his companions Cris would rather not take that choice.

    No door? How can there be no exit door? Were we carried here through that hole in the wall?

    Splashes of blood and flesh marked the floor and walls behind each body. Cris saw the construct Ren pick up one of the dead robed corpses in one hand with a delicate movement as the body was held aloft in the air from the top of the robe where the head would have been

    Maxton Ge was plunging a hand inside the smashed open chest cavity and withdrew it licking the blood off his fingers while shaking any pieces of flesh and internal organs off letting them either splat on the walls or his own clothing or the armour of the construct.

    ¡®They¡¯re corrupted. Touching them before the mercy of the Goddess blesses their diseased flesh isn¡¯t a good idea even if you are a Master of Disease. The construct might be immune but once the magic gets into you it¡¯ll change you until you become like them, a being less than human in mind and body. I have some of my powers back, not enough to cleanse all these poor sinners but I could purify you at least.¡¯ said Cris as he pushed another tiny portion of his slowly recovering light and purity magic into the length of the plain looking knife held in his hand.

    Another streak of light burst from his hand and wound down the blade creating twin lines in unison. A small creaking noise came out as a small piece of metal chipped off the tip of the knife and fell down onto the cold stone floor of the hallway.

    The man with golden eyes called Disease Master took a single look at Cris before giving him another deep wink and a wide grin before he shook his head and said a word in the same foreign language which he had spoken to Ren earlier inside the stone cell as the construct dropped the body onto the floor and moved onto another one.

    In a state of mild confusion Cris watched as Maxton Ge repeated the same process several more times before he held both hands out in front of Ren and the construct placed his hands on top and a brighter blue glow emitted despite the wall mounted torches lining the stone hallway.

    ¡®Cleaner than dropping them into lava. Not that even I¡¯d do that, they¡¯d burn off and growing them back would be a...handful? Eh? Does the joke work? I mean, I¡¯m a foreigner and all but surely my joke makes sense. What do you think young Master Cris? Besides, none of these are strong enough to have any effect on me. Did I not mention it? I am Disease Master. This can¡¯t touch me, my own body churns and rejects them. I learnt to become a pig to catch a tiger. Save your own magical powers for later. We¡¯re only in one section of this underground base. Our mutual friend Ren here dug underground and smashed his way through a few walls to find us. The trial supply goods work after all. Ren? Take note of that, the boost is sufficient enough in a single dose.¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    As he stepped closer to the dead bodies lining the walls of the hallway, ignoring the flaring up of his magical senses in response to the slowly fading corruption which waned when his dagger emitted and began to draw from his own magical reserves and reduce the virus inside the bodies.

    To his surprise the disease had been lessened somehow and heavily reduced in nature as the corruption which had taken root in each physical body began to wither into pure nothingness. Cris knew that had had some talent gifted by the Goddess but he had still only been a novitiate before he had been removed and asked to leave from the main temple in the capital city.

    ¡®You have the gift?¡¯ asked Cris as he half-planted the dagger in his hand into each of the bodies checking the degree of corruption magic stuck into the flesh. Each corpse was diminished somehow underneath the robes, thinner and the skin was drawn tighter across the flesh that had remained.

    The thought stuck Cris that he might have been rescued by a blood drinking demon in human form and his magical creation, an undead which drained the energies of the victim. Those who had been infected by the corruption were bad enough but the Goddess herself had warned them of other creatures of the armies of the Dark Lord. Those which had fought in the last war before it had been defeated.

    Regardless, he had been rescued, given kindness and even material support. He¡¯d only report both of them to the Church of Light and Purity as possible heretics and contaminations against the living Goddess with vague descriptions once they had left this place. Maybe. It depended on how much they were truly infected. His senses registered absolutely zero traces on the odd pair but it didn''t make any sense when he had been told that every single humanoid within the kingdom held even a tiny amount of corruption after the final war against the Dark Lord.

    Most would not turn or become any worse as long as they weren''t further exposed either by their own choice as these cultists had or by accident as they ventured out further from the city walls in the name of the divine Goddess.

    His training warred with his instincts as Maxton Ge approached him as he was about to plunge the metal knife with to white glowing stripes into another corpse to try and purge the remnants of corruption that lingered.

    ¡®I am Disease Master. Eyes that have yet to see Mount Tai do not see my true abilities. Forgive my rudeness young Master Cris. I am glad that your...magical abilities are working once again. A valuable asset to our group of three certainly. These are scared and backward lands we find ourselves in. Ren, can you lead us out of this place? I have no interest in exploring this structure if these ones who call themselves cultists have this small amount of corruption. Did you fight your way through a thousand to reach us or are these the only ones you killed? Answer me you terracotta reinforced idiot.¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    The quietness of the hallway and lack of any armed response from any further armed cultists or their false priests made Cris question exactly how many the construct Ren had needed to kill in order to acquire their freedom from the cell.

    ''How deep are we exactly? There doesn''t seem to be a doorway leading out of this hallway. I don''t understand it.'' asked Cris as he pulled his metal dagger out and after imbuing a little more light and purity magic into the blade as drops of blood and flesh were burnt off and crumbled into ash on the floor.

    He didn''t have any immediate plans to search the dead cultist corpses for any items given that all they seemed to possess was robes. As the construct Ren likely had a spatial magical storage ability than anything useful would have been looted and stored away. Not that it was going to be an issue but the robes themselves could be used to disguise the three of them as long as the corruption levels were minimal.

    [We take the self-created entry point until exit is complete. I detect other threats in the vicinity are being dealt with by a third party. There is no need to waste either resources or time fighting our way out of this site. Disease Master, do you concur with my judgement? We have an appointment to keep, as does young Master Cris.] said Ren.

    Swiping the air between them with a hand chopping motion Maxton Ge grabbed the construct by the arm and began to rapidly talk in the same foreign language which he had heard spoken aloud several times.

    There was a frantic note in Maxton''s tone as he made hand gestures before forming a tight fist and punching the construct directly in the face. Neither of them showed any signs of discomfort.

    Turning towards Cris, Maxton Ge smiled broadly and held his arms out wide.

    ''Young Master Cris, the one with no name is clearly an idiot and obviously far too young to understand when he needs to keep his mouth shut. Tools exist to work not to think. Tell me, are you able to make the glow brighter in your blades? Could you apply it to both blades for example? The torches above us could be traps and the lack of door gives me the sense that there is a hidden doorway.  A waste of time in finding it. The hole in the wall at the end of the hallway is our faster exit route, Ren here told me that we can take his makeshift path near to the entrance and avoid further fighting. You have no armour and I am growing tired of the lack of sunlight and fresh air. This is a dangerous place and while Ren would be fine, you and me are made of flesh, bone and meat. We need light to see by. He does not.'' said Maxton Ge.

    Nodding his head, Cris pulled out both blades and began to slowly imbue his own magical light energies into them as a makeshift light source.

    So much for conserving my energy.

    The three entered the hole in the wall with Cris in the lead and Ren in the middle while Maxton Ge followed them.

    As soon as his two companions moved forward he paused for a moment before spitting a small green glowing ball into his hand and threw it at one of the bodies as he watched it crumble into dust. The effect soon spread and the rest of the corpses turned a light green along with their clothing as they crumbled into grey large piles of mould on the floor.

    The man with golden eyes smiled as he followed his two companions into the darkness of the hole.

    Not a bad night¡¯s effort. Needs more flavour.

    He thought to himself as his eyes shifted colour.

 Book 1 Ch 7: The True Master

    Cris had wondered exactly how Ren had been able to dig through a mixture of solid dirt and rocks. Punching through the stone wall had made sense when he¡¯d seen the construct break apart a steel studded door directly off it¡¯s hinges and into the room they had been captive in. But it was the manner in which he did it that surprised Cris, he¡¯d assumed that it was simply the construct using his spatial storage ability to remove obstacles, store them in himself and then carry on.

    But doing so would have meant a massive volume of dirt and soil and as amazing as the construct was he must have had some kind of limit. Not even the High Priests of the Goddess had the ability to store such vast amounts when they called on the powers of the one who guarded the kingdom against the evils of magical corruption.

    The answer was far simpler, there was a long forgotten series of sewer drainage that ran deep through wherever this place was located. Likely far down below the capital city where the bones of previous generations had built their own forgotten capital cities until they were forgotten by time.

    ¡®Our friend is lucky eh? He doesn¡¯t smell like we do. Here, you should eat some of these before we get deeper in. I¡¯ll be immune from any effect, such is my namesake. Why my heaven defying technique is unparalleled in all the infested places this city has to offer!¡¯ said Maxton Ge as he held out several fragrant smelling pills.

    The sight was bad but the smell was simply far worse as Cris understood how the capital city kept itself so clean and organised despite the numbers involved. They had the benefit of centuries of rebuilt city underneath to dump all the refuse and waste products that existed. Liquid dripped down from the walls in the light of his light magic infused daggers and he heard the squeaks of vermin hunting down prey or feasting upon each other.

    His fine clothing was already becoming tattered and entering this place would make it even worse. There was a hint of light from patches of florescent fungi which had spread along the walls but the condition of the tunnels was another concern to his eyes.

    The roof was crumbling and when they had stepped the vibrations from their footsteps had caused enough dust to fall that he had struggled not to cough. The fact that the construct Ren had made his way through this place without any horrendous smell lingering on him or traces of sewer wastage made Cris wonder what other tricks he possessed.

    Certainly the smell of him entering the small cell that he and Maxton Ge had been tied up inside hadn''t smelt as bad as this.

    Noticing the outstretched hand of his new comrade who seemed quite comfortable and not showing a single sign of discomfort from either the smell or the stale air, or dripping suggestible liquids from the ceiling Cris considered taking the sweet smelling pills. They must have been strong enough medicine if they could overcome the stench of this hidden sewer entrance.

    Turning his head sideways Cris looked towards the hole in the wall where the lit torches gave off more light than his meagre knives. He didn''t know the distance they needed to travel through the sewers but his own energy reserves weren''t going to survive a long trip.

    Likely, the pair had torches but chose not to light them for a reason. Or an alternate form of light source given the blue glow from the hands of the construct. Perhaps both of them could simply see in the dark and they were simply humouring him by giving a sense of agency so he wouldn''t feel worthless in the light of their own powers.

    Still, he''d had enough of being led around and his stomach was going to force him to throw up if he was in the sewers any longer. Secure passageway or not he''d rather fight or work his way through a series of traps then tolerate the disgusting mess of this place.

    ''Ren, Disease Master. I''m grateful for your assistance but this isn''t going to work. The smell alone here is going to make me sick and I know that once I start it''s not going to stop.'' said Cris as he halted and decided to release the magical flow into one dagger and stuck it back in his arm leather bracer.

    Despite the light dimming, Cris was able to clearly make out the hole in the wall behind him due to the lit torchlight shining from the empty hallway within. The construct Ren had continued walking and Cris heard a few short squeaks followed by crunching sounds, likely he''d trodden on a few of the vermin who infested this place.

    Not that Cris suspected that they''d be able to bite through the tough skin of the construct. Or he''d store them inside his storage. Living organics didn''t work well with that type of magic he recalled from his own tutors.

    ''Young Master Cris, it''s the reason I''m holding out medicine. If I wait any longer my hand might rot and fall off. Yes, this place is full of decay, pestilence and all manners of natural disease but the pills should do their work even if you fell into the water and swallowed some. Or rat bites. I''m not sure what would happen if you ate the glowing mushrooms but I bet it would be interesting. Shame I filled up earlier. Ren will scout ahead of us and you and me will make our way through the sewers pathways to the exist. Even find ourselves right in front of this place. But we are comrades now and only a fool fails to listen when thoughts are spoken. Tell us your plans and Ren and I will comply. As long as the idiot remembers to come back again. He took long enough last time.'' said Maxton Ge as he took one of the fragrant smelling pills and threw it into his mouth chewing it.

    Cris took several steps back and waited at the edge of the hole in the wall. The light from within helped his eyes adjust better to the relative darkness of the sewer tunnels.

    ''You said the hallway was trapped, we send in Ren to disarm them and then make our own way out. As a novitiate of the Goddess and a noble it''s my duty to eliminate and report all instances of corruption especially on this scale. I need to fight to build my own reputation, I need the opportunity especially after I was kicked out of....where I was training.'' said Cris.

    The sound of small mammals squeaking and the crunch of boots was beginning to fade as he realised that the construct had gone quite a distance. The air from the sewer tunnel was lessened enough that the sensations of wanting to throw up was reduced enough that Cris felt more comfortable.

    Looking down at his own boots, they had already acquired a layer of the liquid slime that dripped in places from the ceiling underneath but a quick check of his fine clothing and leather backpack had escaped thankfully.

    ''As you wish but I think that Ren has gone ahead far enough though so it will be you and me. Lead on then Young Master Cris, I think you''ll be pleasantly surprised by what you find in the hallway. Finding the hidden entrance it is and I''m not going to touch those torches high up on the walls. Not as though I cultivate the Path of Trap-Seeking. Ren! See you by the entrance you lazy pile of living stone. There, he''ll find us when he''s ready. Or he can sink into filthy water for a hundred years. Either way suits me.'' said Maxton Ge.

    As soon as Cris had turned into the hallway he blinked his eyes rapidly. The bodies of the brutally killed cultists in their grey robes had been reduced into piles of mere powder. Either there had been a deadly trap in the hall which he and his comrades had been lucky to escape or his own magic had resounded with the corruption.

    Applying his senses before he dared to take a single step into the room he found that there were minor traces of corruption but it had been compressed rather than eliminated. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Strange. Compacted but not removed.

    He¡¯d need to take a sample to take to the...Ren. They¡¯d left Ren behind.

    Stopping he switched his position to scry the relative darkness of the sewer channels for any sign of the construct. Yes, he¡¯d walked ahead but it didn¡¯t mean that he wouldn¡¯t return.

    Cris would have preferred more reliable comrades than one who was possibly a blood drinking demon and another one who was a magical being created from inorganic matter. At the least the three augmented had been human, they¡¯d even accompanied him and promised protection after taking his noble issued scrip but the kiss had certainly been an experience.

    ¡®Ren? Will you not walk with us as comrades Ren?¡¯ said Cris as he partially held a hand over his mouth to avoid any further stench of the stale sewer air and stink getting into his nostrils.

    A hand clapped onto his shoulder which gripped tightly and pulled him hard into the stone hallway once more.

    ¡®Best not to talk with him too much. Trust me you won¡¯t get the response you expect. I literally had the same conversation with him a hundred times before he began to talk with any sense of normalcy. And all I asked was what was his favourite food. We remain in a tiger¡¯s den. Best to make our way out.¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    With his hand firmly on the shoulder of Cris holding tight in a strong grip he half pulled him towards the end of the stone hallway to a plain-looking wall which was located near the hole in the wall which led to the sewers tunnels.

    Maxton Ge rubbed a hand and spat on it before placing it onto the wall which began to crumble apart revealing a set of stairs leading upwards.

    ¡®An easy path. Heh. You¡¯ll have to forgive me and Ren, Young Master Cris. We¡¯ve not exactly been honest with you. I was advised to test you a little first. You passed thankfully. Brave, curious, able and you think. Not calling me a foreigner again after the first time is also a mark of respect for your elder. You can follow me junior and I¡¯ll lead us out of this place. After all we have an appointment to make with a very special type of lady. The dangerous kind.¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    The stairs in front of Cris were carpeted. He even recognised the style of material that had been used. The walls inside were painted bright red. There was an alchemical globe hanging from the ceiling inside and illuminating the bottom set of steps.

    A deep velvet curtain blocked any further view he had beyond the initial set of steps. Unconsciously Cris reached a hand on a knife held within the leather brace strapped onto his arm before a set of fingers locked around his own hand with a steel grip and dug into his skin. The pain was minimal at best.

    ¡®Calm down. If we wanted you dead you would be. Ask yourself, where is our corruption? Have you ever seen someone who looks like me or stupid Ren in this quaint mountainous capital city of yours? I doubt you¡¯ve ever met someone like me despite those merchants in the trading section. Yes, I know who you are Cristiano. The half-breed who was unjustly forced out of a place of education for asking all the right questions. The Goddess blessed you and I don¡¯t quite think you realise how much. You hold value in the eyes of a special woman. A woman without a face. We...work with her out of mutual agreement.¡¯

    His magic flared deep within him and Cris lashed out with his other hand as it was locked tight against the small of his back. This time he did feel pain as his arm was bent at an angle and he was forced downwards as his backpack shifted and the contents moved around.

    ¡®You...tricked me. You kidnapped me and locked me into this place. Both of you lied to me. For what? FOR WHAT? The augmented...they were part of it. Did the Queen send you? Are you agents of the Dark Lord? BURN! I¡¯LL MAKE YOU BURN!¡¯ began Cris as he reached deep into his energy reserves and began to focus concentrated light and purity magic through his bare skin.

    He knew that there would be a steep price paid for the result but better to remove the immediate threat. The price of his own free will and mentality for a life of service to the blessed Goddess as an unthinking creature of light was worth a good revenge.

    ¡®Your blood is changing. I can smell it. I wonder how it would interact if I took a sample and applied it to the corrupted blood I absorbed from the corrupted. You are a...functional prototype. I wonder if you even understand what that word means. We never kidnapped you but you need to calm down. I¡¯ll break your arms if I need to. The rate your blood is being changed you won¡¯t survive the process. If you¡¯re going to react like this then I¡¯ll need to take my own measures to limit you.¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    Cris knew his body would continue to purify as much as possible before it cracked apart under the stresses that no human was designed to accept. His arm was bent further and the physical pain warred with the magical changes taking place inside his body on a cellular level. The surface of his skin began to glow as the voice of the construct which had assumed had left them rang out with a booming tone.

    [Disease Master. I return. You will remove your grip on Cris or suffer direct punishment. Response is required in one fen. Order priority override engaged. This one will oppose your direct instructions unless designate: Cristiano is released into my custody. Immediate response required Disease Master.] said the voice of the construct called Ren.

    The quietness of which he had moved surprised him as there wasn¡¯t a single sound that rang out.

    Forced downwards, Cris had the same view of the carpeted steps which were in exactly the same style and design as when he had been led through various tunnels down through the tavern. He¡¯d been knocked out when the augmented had failed to rescue him as doors had been smashed in and ended up not in a cultist site but simply further down.

    The pressure holding his arm was nearly immediately lessened as Maxton Ge was picked up by his arm and flung with enough force that there was a visible crunch as his body slammed into the stone wall.

    </a>[Disease Master. Know your place. You are the servant of the Eternal Huangdi. Diversion from the mission will not be tolerated. Remember, if you do not complete your task you will never be given access to Mount Penglai. Designate: Cris, is to be protected. Your method is ineffective. This one will begin your punishment.] said the construct as with a sudden rush of speed it sprinted the short distance to the man trying to rise from the floor and grabbing him again with one arm swung him against another section of the wall causing deep cracks in the stone to appear.

    ¡®GET OFF M-¡¯ started Maxton Ge as his entire body was slammed into the bare wall of stone in the hallway as piles of grey dust flew up in the air from the impact.

    Confused with the situation but aware of the fact that the two who had called him comrades were apparently fighting over his personal safety Cris forced himself to take deep breaths and calm down the rising tide of light and purity magic which was threatening to overwhelm him.

    The effort alone drove him to his knees and he struggled to keep his eyes open as the energy within wanted release.

    Tightening his hands into fists he channelled his will and slammed them into the cold stone as unconsciousness began to overtake him.

    ¡®I..I WAS ROW-¡¯ started Maxton Ge as his voice was cut off.

    Further echoes of shattering stone and one sharp scream pain which ended abruptly as the arms of the construct lifted him up and swung him gently over a shoulder as Ren proceeded towards the carpeted steps and through the velvet curtain.

    [Punishment has been delivered Disease Master, fix yourself and join us. Remember your place, your purpose. We have an appointment with the women with no face. Young Master Cris, you need to rest and recover. Sleep now.] said Ren.

 Book 1 Ch 8: The Woman with No Face

    Warm breath on his face and a touch of perfume filled his nostrils as Cris slowly regained consciousness.

    He felt comfortable, more so than he had been for a long time. Arms held him tightly and there was a softness in them that reminded him of his mother before he had decided to abandon him and remarry an older noble in the city.

    My mother?

    Why do I¡­.my head.

    My body hurts.

    The sweetness of the perfume made his head hazy and his senses dulled. Cris knew that he should be alarmed, to at least try and use his senses to detect if he was in danger from corrupt or who exactly was around him but a sensation filled his airways as he took a deeper breath to taste more of the smell.

    His head was resting on someone¡¯s lap. Warm, comfortable and he was safe.

    Not safe. Get up.

    He wanted to lie there, to forget and keep his eyes closed but the conversation which he heard carrying on made him understand he needed to wake up and accept reality.

    Get up. Get up!

    He hadn¡¯t lost his memories, only tried to suppress them as much as he could to try and block out the emotional pain and anger within. Better to relax and enjoy the smell of the perfume.

    GET UP!

    A woman was talking, her voice was familiar, so familiar but also not. Her tone wasn¡¯t soft but firm. Cris lay back and listened.

    ¡®¡­.You ruined it. We had a plan to break in there and give him a chance to fight a little and you ruined it. Worthless foreigners think they can come into our city, our war and decide to get involved without thinking about the consequences? Ma''am, we¡¯ve successfully completed our role. Yes we were late in our appointed action but as you can see Richtson needed additional support before he was able to undertake this mission. He needs to see a priest and a high-quality one at that. I accept responsibility for him losing initial control but we did successfully kill all the corrupted cultists and cleansed the entire site of corpses.¡¯ said Agnes.

    A soft voice which came across as smooth to his ears rang out, Cris wasn¡¯t clear on the gender. At first deep like a man but then it switched to a higher pitched tone.

    ¡®You did. I accept the situation as it is but I will not accept blame. Interesting how you left Marley out of the conversation, I believe that I need to have a private word for your augmented group of three in private later. We will discuss your individual parts accordingly. Honoured Ren, Disease Master do either of you have anything to add to how this pre-mission played out? He performed well enough? The fact that he¡¯s not dead means that he didn¡¯t try to attack either of you on suit given your...unique appearance in our beloved city of the Queen and Goddess.¡¯ said the voice of the apparent woman.

    The words came from just above his head and Cris realised that he was lying on a sofa. The sweet smell of the perfume still made his thoughts incoherent and hard to focus.

    He opened up his eyes as his body ached deeply, he¡¯d overdrawn his magic he knew and he¡¯d face a short period of physical weakness as it body tried to balance itself out.

    Shifting his attention to the woman who first spoke she wore a delicate outfit of black that enclosed her form along with a dark red stylish hat adorned with gold braid, beads and a single purple feather sticking out.

    Her arms were folded on her lap and her hands were gloved and her face shifted when he saw it. First she was a woman of striking beauty in her youth, a few years older than him with pale brown hair, eyes and unblemished skin before her face began to melt and the bone structure altered into an older woman with deep wrinkles and grey hair.

    She gave him a smile before she pulled out a silken mask from the recesses of her black outfit and placed it over her face with one hand covering her swiftly changing features before Cris could see what new female face she had transformed into.

    Her head cocked to the side, and despite the light silken mask covering her face he could see her mouth arranged into a smile.

    ¡®I was given a gift once by a man beyond our gods. Rather a wish or a favour in his eyes, whether he granted it out of boredom or amusement when I was a young girl. How it was granted was another story but he took pity on a starving girl who was hungry and offered me a bowl of noodles. His name was Horus. I believe that our foreign guests are aware of his legend, but where he walks the world ends. I¡¯m not sure why I¡¯m telling you this Master Cifesboren. Likely, you¡¯ll think I¡¯m a mad woman who suffered trauma due to the death of the Dark Lord and the plague he unleashed in revenge on our once glorious kingdom and you¡¯d be right but this is my advice. If a man called Horus with his friend Casey asks you if you want a bowl of fresh noodles, you say yes. Would you like to try and wake up now from your bad dream? Take your time.¡¯ said the woman.

    His eyes shut as quickly as he opened them as his own energy reserves screamed for a balance between his own flesh and divine purity. The face of the woman had literally melted.

    There was corruption inside her skin and her face but so bound up with her on a base level that couldn¡¯t understand how her head hadn¡¯t collapsed into dust.

    Strength. I need strength.

    Without actively pulling on it his own enhanced senses picked up the corruption on the woman called Agnes and drew it in strands of it boosting his own body as he did so.

    The other augmented were in the room but further away, likely guarding their current position. Behind him was Ren and Maxton Ge but he had little interest in talking to them until he had better ascertained his position.

    Talk from a position of strength.

    ¡®Remarkable. I can barely see it myself but he¡¯s taking it from you Captain Geisslerg and restoring himself. I don¡¯t think that this is usual practice for the religion of Light and Purity is it? I wager they¡¯d call it heresy even. Time to wake up young man, as nice as it is my lap is usually reserved and while I¡¯m grateful you managed to make our appointment we have much to discuss.¡¯ said the voice of the woman.

    Sitting straight up Cris immediately grasped his arm for the bracer of knives but he touched bare flesh instead. On his back there was no sensation of his leather backpack and his clothing and boots felt odd on his skin.

    Failing to have a weapon he raised both his hands up and shot off the long sofa standing up and taking on a fighting stance. He almost collapsed from the physical effort as a heavy streak of pain tore through him and his legs began to buckle.

    ¡®I don¡¯t know what sick game you want to play with me but I¡¯ll fight if I need to. I want and need answers. Not more questions and trickery. I was lied to, coerced and kidnapped then attacked. Answers would be welcome. So would an exit.¡¯ said Cris.

    A chuckle from behind him almost caused him to turn and throw a punch but instead he turned his immediate attention to the cloaked woman in front of him. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Maxton Ge is here. So is Ren. Ignore them.

    She hadn¡¯t responded but they had shared a kiss at least. A moment of tenderness. Perhaps she could be convinced to protect him out of this place. He¡¯d paid her in both noble scrip and his own body.

    He forced himself to drop his guard and shrug his shoulders instead and put his remaining stamina towards simply standing upright. Giving the appearance of strength and aggression would be the best he could do in this situation.

    Another teaching from old man Alessandro.

    When faced with enemies, show them you want to fight even if you can¡¯t.

    Even if he wanted to fight, his body was in no condition to do so. He¡¯d need a few hours of meditation at least to restore his balance held within.

    Cris has seen examples of priests and priestesses who overused on light and purity magic and he had no desire to turn into a mindless, drooling idiot who had to be spoon-fed food and only followed direct instructions.

    He¡¯d heard rumours of the so-called Angels that had once been experimented on as orphaned young children but had never seen one in person. Better for him to turn his attention to the one woman who had promised to rescue him.

    ¡®Agnes. Is this how you planned to save me? I¡¯d say I survived after all.¡¯ said Cris as he shrugged his shoulders. The shirt he was wearing was a little tight as he lifted his arms out.

    His clothes were different. His boots were different and he was clean. The smell of the perfume lingered in the air, he could smell it but it had been reduced and was no longer overpowering both his physical and magical senses.

    Drugged. They drugged me.

    He recognised his immediate surroundings. The light beaming from the alchemical chandelier, the thick red carpet and the false attempt to replicate a room fit for nobility. He

    Cris had been brought down here by Agnes and Richtson before there had been an altercation and he had been knocked out. Only the smell was different and it was beginning to fade from the air now. There was a copper taste to the air.

    Looking at the woman in front of him who was now robed once again and clearly armed judging from the bulges in her clothing. The robe she wore had been torn across and there were marks of blood streaked across her face, her eyes were sunken and she looked tired more than anything else.

    The look in her eyes told him that she¡¯d seen combat and fought hard. But there an emotion in her eyes as they flickered to her left, after she did it several times in a row he saw that she was trying to pass on a sign.

    Her hands were clasped onto her chest although her fingers made a small movement which he didn¡¯t understand but recognised as the same one she had given in the alley to her comrades.

    A code then, one they had either been trained or developed to talk silently. Turning his attention to the woman¡¯s left he saw a once familiar sight which had changed.

    In truth the rapid pace of his experiences made him consider it was likely not more than a few hours ago he had been been in this location fulfilling his promise to use light and purity magic on their overly corrupted comrade, Richtson.

    Cris recognised the double wooden doors which they had passed through which had been guarded and beyond them would be the tunnel beneath the tavern which led to this place.

    Both doors had been badly damaged and one hung loose off the hinges but it had been propped up with one of the red velvet covered armchairs from earlier. There were deep gouges in the furniture and parts of broken wood and stone lying around.

    The room had earlier held strong traces of purity and light as though reinforced but they had been sufficiently dampened with stronger traces of corruption.

    ¡®Been in a fight have we? Yeah, tricking me and robbing me. You deserve it. Who else is in on this kidnapping game?¡¯ said Cris as he swayed from side to side.

    The woman called Agnes tightened her mouth as she pursed her lips. She clearly wanted to talk but nodded her head lightly in response to his words.

    Reaching deep within himself there was clear damage. He took a look at the skin on his hands to notice that the outside of his palm had become bleached pure white with minute cracks.

    He recalled that he¡¯d wanted to ignite his own life-force and turn himself into a living bomb of purity and light in order to damage the man called Maxton Ge. He¡¯d clearly been out of his mind to try so.

    ¡®Sit down Master Cifesboren. You¡¯ve suffered significant damage and been unconscious for a few hours. Enough to stop you dying but I wouldn¡¯t suggest trying to use your magic for a while unless you want a quick death. Disease Master here was telling me about about you apparently tried to ignite your internal energy. He says your qi flow is damaged. Then again he¡¯s a foreigner from the Celestial Empire here as an important guest of our Queen Averill in her role as the Head of the Church of Light and Purity. Ren is...a special case but also hails from the same place as Maxton Ge. Apparently he acted against direct instruction and was suitably punished in turn through the will of their Emperor. Disease Master, could you please attend to Master Cifesboren? He is owed an apology. Ren, please attend if you are willing.¡¯ said the woman to her left still sitting on the long sofa.

    Cris forced himself to keep upright. Although she was being quiet, his eyes were drawn to Agnes as she signed again silently with her fingers and flickered her eyes to the side once more.

    The doors. What does she want me to see with the doors? To leave?

    ¡®No. I mean not in this place. Esteemed Ren and Disease Master deserve to see better than this broken shambles. Surely, this dusty room can¡¯t compare to the Celestial Empire in all it¡¯s glory. I need a little support and given that me and Agnes there shared a kiss she can support me if we take a carriage and horse to a...more suitable location to have our discussion. I would like to ask though, what happened to the ones who broke the doors and knocked me unconscious?¡¯ asked Cris.

    The red carpet reminded him of the colour of blood and he wondered how many throats had been slit or wounds given in fighting within this room. The sense of corruption in here still lingered and he¡¯d had enough of this situation and simply wanted to return home. He''d rather take a stern lecture from his Head Servant than take more of this.

    Considering how he had frequented this low-born part of the capital city and chosen the tavern above their heads on a whim to consider his next options in life and even look for a little adventure he¡¯d certainly gotten his wish.

    ¡®We killed them all. The ones who tried to take you. I never lied to you...Johan. Ma¡¯am, Richtson needs immediate treatment and all threats have been killed. I believe the Queen¡¯s Guard and Priest support can enter here.¡¯ said Agnes she finally opened her mouth to speak and spread her arms at her side.

    One of her hands was tapping her side. The same side which she had gestured with and the doors past her.

    Laughter came from behind Cris and he recognised the sound as Ren. It was unnerving to hear the construct laugh, it was a fake sound, devoid of emotion as though run through a metal tin and echoed.

    The woman sitting on the sofa, adjusted her silk mask before standing up and clenching a gloved hand into a fist.

    ¡®As you wish. We have several carriages waiting at the front. The tavern has been emptied and everyone involved has been detained under my direct authority. Anyone with sufficient levels of corruption who refuses immediate treatment will be sent to Kirkbride Castle, sorry, the Asylum of Light and True Health under the current standing orders of the Queen. Captain Geisslerg you will assemble your team in your own carriage and Richtson will be taken to a temple for a private blessing. Esteemed Ren and Disease Master, your own transport has been set aside as per your request. Cloaks and hats are available upstairs if you wish to disguise your own appearance.¡¯ said the woman. Raising his hand in the red carpeted room which had once been used by novitiate priests who wanted additional funds in return for treating those who wanted their own corruption cleansed.

    ¡®Excuse me, but will the Queens Guard shut down this place? And I never caught your name. I know Agnes, Richtson, even Marley. Ren and Maxton Ge I am familiar with but you never introduced yourself.¡¯ said Cris.

    The woman wearing the black outfit smiled under her silk mask.

    ¡®It¡¯s being dealt with and none of your further concern. You may address me as the Woman with No Face until we are in a secure setting. Your mother sends her regards as does Alessandro. He misses you deeply young man. You''re luckier than you think to have the trust of a man like him. An Angel will cleanse this place. After you Master Cifesboren. ¡¯ said the women as she made a sweeping gesture towards the smashed large wooden doors which were the only visible exit from the room.

 Book 1 Ch 9: Matters of State

    Queen Averill was tired. Not of the gradual victories against the magical forces of corruption unleashed by the Dark Lord one he was beaten fifteen years ago but it was the constant reports that wore down her patience and energy.

    ¡®I¡¯m tired of all of this¡­¡¯ said Queen Averill as she waved a hand at shifting miniature models in front of her. She stood up with both her hands placed on the table willing her intent to make the pieces move and observe the real time shifts and patterns.

    A single armour woman sat on an ornate wooden chair, the only other furniture in the room aside from a surprisingly large table built from a mixture of metals for strength. Her bodyguard was always there to protect her from outside threats, or to intimidate those who wanted to waste her time.

    ¡®Nothing to say? Sometimes, I don¡¯t know if you were turned half-mute or if you simply don¡¯t like talking to me. I appreciate your service though. The Goddess Aliza protects and provides for us all. Even if she is likely mad. Not that I blame her, fifteen years of my work but on a far larger scale would drive anyone into the recessed of their own mind. Thank you.¡¯ said the Queen without turning her head towards her bodyguard.

    She knew that the woman would only speak if either absolutely necessary if if ordered to do so. Otherwise she was more like a puppet, she would even forget to eat on occasion if reminded. Queen Aliza didn¡¯t even know if the woman actually needed to eat and drink such was the transformation that had taken place.

    ¡®¡­..Angels¡­.flying angels sweeping across the map scouring out all traces of corruption in unison powered by the will of a divine Goddess who turned silent but remains vigilant. To be honest, some days I¡¯d refuse to believe she even existed unless I didn¡¯t see her glowing avatar in the city. She grants power but never responds to prayers. Not even my own. Not that the priests and priestesses would believe me. Not after she appointed me as their leader through divine edict. Her voice, that I¡¯ll never forget. Listen to me, I¡¯m rambling. A side-effect of getting tired. I should leave this place and kiss my husband goodbye before he goes on another pointless attempt to defeat corruption through death. Any thoughts?¡¯ said the Queen. Her words as usual were ignored by her bodyguard.

    Not that she made much of a talking companion, her now bodyguard had been found by the Queen deep within the Monastery, part of the failed experimentations when they had taken in untold numbers of orphaned children and tried to imbue with the powers of the Goddess to create pure beings known as angels.

    Being discovered still alive, bone-thin and starving but alive and otherwise healthy should have been considered a miracle if not for the huge pile of corpses that covered her young frail form. Instead a report had been made to the Queen directly and she had taken the teenage girl into her direct care.

    Her husband had thought that she had missed the fact they had no children and wanted to adopt but the glow from her form had made the Queen reconsider. If not an angel of light and purity then she had been permanently changed, her body simply self-generated magical essence within her. She could not cast magic or imbue it into any other forms but her blood could ignite those with minute traces of corruption.

    In short, she was similar to the Queen herself and one of the rare cases of complete immunity against any traces of corruption magic. Her mind had not been broken but rather altered, she would think in different ways, different angles and needed to be taught how to respond to normal human speech and mannerisms.

    When the bodies of large numbers of orphaned children had been finally discovered, those that had failed had simply been piled in the depths of the temple and stacked like firewood or kindling.

    The insane processes of directly forcing light and purity magic into young bodies of older children and teenagers had killed most and few survived. Those had been put in special holding cells and began to be worshipped as angels by those priest and priestesses who had lost their own sanity and all sense of reason.

    The crimes of those involved hadn¡¯t been directly evidenced but her Spymistress had found remaining scraps of records that hadn¡¯t been destroyed in accordance with typical monastery religious procedure. The experiments were...disturbing to say the least and most would call insane.

    The broken priests and priestesses had been quietly put to death painlessly and quickly

    All of those involved she¡¯d personally seen dealt with in her own way and their research and testing materials taken and put to better use.

    No point wasting resources in war.

    Her use. Any who¡¯d spoken against her was locked away in the Asylum of her own design, far easier than trying to contain corrupted inside a prison where none could be treated and if possible cured.

    She knew a few of the higher level priests had escaped true justice and one had confined himself in a monastery prison. When she¡¯d read the reports on that one she¡¯d simply left him alone to his own suffering and madness.

    In spite of what they had achieved the process of taking innocent lives in the hope of creating higher tier beings who could simply wipe away vast sources of corruption not through channelling the power of the Goddess but by generating their own

    Every square inch of the table was covered in models, the capital city in the centre, the surrounding countryside and farms, even the borders of her kingdom were represented and the three once allied kingdoms which had previously given their support during the war positioned as towers with small individual model figures of the present rulers atop them.

    She was based in her personal tactical room within her palace. This was a quiet, peaceful place where only she had direct access and her own personal key. She had taken members of her court into this room on occasion if only to educate them about the actual threat that the corruption posed. Or if she''d wanted any would-be cultists turned into grey ashes by the divine power of the Goddess.

    A decent variety of maps had been pinned to the walls and the main source of light was a single hovering globe of pure light which had been set in the exact centre of the room which spread out magic covering every single surface and object. Shadows had formed across the map, each one represented the degree of corruption and how much the powers of the Goddess had driven them back.

    At the borders the shadows were barely existent, a reminder to Queen Averill that her once allied surrounding three kingdoms of Lothis, Midotha, and Graboki had barely suffered the same as her kingdom had after the war.

    Her father and mother had been greedy for glory and to solidify their own reign by promising their armies and nobles on the battlefield the rights of plunder and land once the Dark Lord had been defeated. They had refused the protests of their allies who had pulled their own soldiers back during the final push to their own damaged homelands, and it had all been for naught.

    Her kingdom damaged and both her parents, along with various uncles and aunts, even older cousins barely able to ride an armoured horse had perished in the initial explosion which had torn apart the last stronghold of the Dark Lord. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    His armies torn apart, the humanoid monsters had either fled back their homes or been converted by the spread of the veil of corruption energy into unthinking creatures of madness.

    Enemies within and without and hungry wolves looking for fresh meat from a weakened lion.

    She¡¯d spent enough time underneath it that her had begun to bleach a little as her skin tone had lightened from its original olive skin colour. She¡¯d need to keep an eye on that and reduce the amount of light and purity magic held within her

    Either that or she would simply request to take a visit to the Asylum of Light and Health to drain a heavily corrupted human and have their own corruption added to hers to balance her body and mind.

    Despite holding divine protection from the Goddess she wasn¡¯t immune to the effects of channelling vast amounts of light and purity energy into her priests. Goddess Aliza provided but was unable to divert her divine attention towards matters of state and organisation.

    The Goddess willed but it had been a long time since she had issued direct instructions beyond simply protecting the people and removing the source of corruption. Likely, channelling the power of all the other gods who had removed themselves from the kingdom and passed on their own divinity to fuel both the creation and sustaining of the protector Goddess known only as Aliza.

    Those who had committed the atrocity upon innocent war orphans had been excommunicated or removed from public duties but their research and results were useful. All weapons were in a war that she''d fought for more than a decade and which had claimed her youth but not her beauty thankfully.

    There were benefits to being a conduit and direct representative of the Goddess and slow ageing had been one of the few which she could count. Not that it was uncommon, even the half-human augmented which had survived the experimental processes had the same function. As did the few remaining Fallen Angels at her disposal.

    More to do. If only that idiot husband of mine could take on paperwork instead of meaningless gestures of violence.

    As the named Head of the Church of Light and Purity, she held dual roles as both the monarch of the Kingdom of Nurburg and the responsibility of the reclamation of the lands lost during the war which had suffered.

    Those in roles of high nobility who survived the war and its aftermath took on new roles to form her personal council. They also assisted her with financial affairs, matters of trade and diplomacy, managing internal conflict and the daily running of the capital city.

    She had been swept out of her palace as a young girl when the Dark Hordes first came and moved into the capital city as a young girl. As the ongoing war had taken its toll and finally ended in the death of the Dark Lord and the destruction of his armies, monsters and his final battlefield destroyed they had rejoiced.

    And then the transformations had begun, slowly at first when the soldiers and their support were cheering their final victory and then more so when they had returned to the capital and those living in the countryside had discovered that the Dark Lord had one final form of revenge.

    A magical virus which slowly turned those infected into monstrous forms who would be drawn to concentrated areas of corruption. The source had been determined as the former final stronghold of the Dark Lord but with exhausted armies and allies alike there lacked the will and strength to make a final push to locate it.

    The gods of the kingdom had worked together and one of their own had risen above the others to provide them with support and guidance during this trying time. The Goddess Aliza, who wielded the powers of light and purity and granted them to the priests of the former gods.

    As the ruling monarch, Queen Averill had been selected to act as the representative of the rapidly developing religion. As a fresh young girl barely out of her teens she hadn¡¯t even consider it at the time the degree of responsibility that she had taken on. Her husband was soon arranged, a boy the same age as her and they spent several awkward years trying to understand each other and attempt to achieve a balance if not a loving union.

    A repeated knock at the door to her tactical room saw her bodyguard stand out of her chair, withdraw a bladed weapon and with a silent gesture positioned herself between the doorway and the Queen.

    The knock at the door repeated as her bodyguard slid down a small hatch as she thumped it twice in response. Given the extent of the experiments performed upon her body she took her blade and rested her palm on it allowing her blood which glowed white to leak out as she smeared it on the edges of the hatch.

    The voice coming from the bodyguard was hoarse and low, as though she had struggled to talk.

    ¡®Talk. The Queen listens¡¯ said the bodyguard.

    The voice of one of the Queen¡¯s Guard rang out, his voice was alert and prepared as he touched the edges of the hatch with his bare skin. There was a light sizzle which was ignored as he withdrew his fingers.

    ¡®Your Majesty. Lady Joanne Dee Mawr has sent word that she has finished progressing with her initial trial and will be moving onto to the next group of candidates. The site she chose was a cultist haven, it has been fully cleared of active presence and a team of the Queen¡¯s Guard with accompanying support is on the way. The Lady requested a Fallen Angel accompany a team of warrior-priests to fully cleanse the site and purify the residents.''

    ¡®The Queen has heard. Leave. We will leave this room shortly. Leave. Leave. Leave.¡¯ said the bodyguard of the Queen.

    The Queen herself tore her gaze from the model pieces on the tactical warfare table. The borders of her own kingdom and those that edged along their three once allied kingdoms were what caught her eye the most. There were soldiers, horses and siege equipment there all lined up along the sides and prepared to attack.

    Unless she could either stop halt their armies with a larger threat or remove the source of corruption within her own kingdom to allow her own forces sufficient respite then they¡¯d take without mercy.

    ¡®I¡¯m so tired. I would curse the Goddess if she would listen and even if she did I¡¯d be wasting my breath. Time to meet Ulrich. He likes me to watch him getting dressed. Or he¡¯s already prepared and wants to take a walk across the walls. He¡¯s always been a romantic man.¡¯ said the Queen as she prepared to exit the room.

    With a final deep look at her tactical table she made all the figures, pieces and structures melt into the board once more covering in layers of shining golden sand. The Queen knew that despite the security to get into the room, there was always deep temptation despite all her efforts. Only the love of the Goddess and her Kingdom were usually enough to sustain the loyalty of her subjects and personal guards but she preferred to keep her plans closer to her chest.

    Turning her attention to her bodyguard who had shut the hatch and had positioned her own body in front in case of immediate threats the Queen spoke to her lightly.

    ¡®I admire you Sara. Your role is to protect me from harm. I¡¯m trying to do the same for my own kingdom but as you saw there are too many moving pieces, too many variables for me to try and keep in my my own head. How would you feel about a change in duties? Not that I don¡¯t appreciate your hard work and effort but I¡¯d feel comfortable with you acting as my own eyes and ears on a highly specific task. When all this ends, when we find a solution I want you to live a peaceful life. One you deserve, free from threats where everyone is. I¡¯m babbling, open the door and let us get some air outside of this stuffy room. My husband surely needs my attention for his little war games.¡¯ said the Queen as she gestured for her bodyguard to open the secure door.

    Her bodyguard, Sara, simply bowed in her direction without a glimmer of emotion on her face.

 Book 1 Ch 10: Hidden Guardian

    There had clearly been signs of fighting but there was no signs of bodies, only heavy cracks in the stone passageway, minor traces of corruption magic with the occasional broken weapon left on the floor. Clearly, when he had been underground there had been a fight which was dealt with by the women with the strange face and the three augmented soldiers.

    Any attempt at conversation on his part and he had simply been told by the strange faced women with her silk mask covered face to wait until they had arrived at a more secure location. The third time he had asked the question she had gripped his arm and spoke in the same strange language that the construct Ren and Maxton Ge spoke while they both nodded and smiled.

    Then she had smiled at him, the shape of her face underneath her silken mask showing that she was pleased before she let go of his arm and set off walking once again with the augmented Agnes in front and her colleague Marley at the back of the group.

    Cris had wanted to ask about how he could contact Alessandro, likely his old butler and head of his house would have been frantic with worry. The old man had always doted on him, since he had safely accompanied his mother and him as a newborn from their original home far away closer to the ocean and the warmth.

    Sorry old man, I¡¯ll have to apologise first for my actions. This was my decision to go out for entertainment in a low-quality part of the city.

    They stopped once more as the woman with the silk mask held up a hand and made a gesture which was similar to the one the augmented had made. Even though she was clearly ahead of her and unable to see her gesture, the augmented who¡¯d called herself Agnes halted and took up a guard position.

    Her torn and bloody cloak wouldn¡¯t make Cris want to fight her if he¡¯d been in an opposing position. Not that he¡¯d actually seen the woman fight, all he knew was that she was a great stronger than she looked. If he could later, he¡¯d ask her permission and that of her two colleagues for an opportunity to study their augmentation. He¡¯d only heard vague stories of it but hadn¡¯t seen any depictions or written records. Likely the Church of Light and Purity had destroyed them according to their common policy.

    Up ahead there was the sound of shouting which swiftly ended and she turned towards the woman with the silken mask.

    ¡®Ma¡¯am? Do we need to deploy? I confirmed all cultists and supporters were directly killed. Sergeant Marley, protect the rear.¡¯ said Agnes.

    The woman with the silk mask who called herself a woman with no face shook her head and Cris standing next to her could clearly see her shoulders shake as she suppressed laughter. Either that or she was in pain or discomfort. Her aura still disturbed him. The fact that her levels of corruption were fixed and entrenched in her very fabric made little sense to him.

    Even the Goddess could only remove, destroy or displace as far as he knew. Perhaps her mad story about a man and a bowl of noodles held an element of truth. There had always been more gods than the Goddess Aliza in the city according to historical records and the words of the older generation.

    ¡®The Queen¡¯s Guard are removing all traces of our presence and every single patron or worker inside the tavern above our heads is to be removed by direct authority of the Queen and is being detained. Those who are found guilty of cooperation or in direct violation of not presenting themselves to a priest for testing and purification will be held. Present company accepted of course. Ah, they seem to be finished now. Esteemed Ren and Disease Master, thank you for your patience. Clearly the mark of the Celestial Empire provides peace and security even so far away.¡¯ said the woman.

    The small group carried on walking, Cris now ignored any traces of battle damage or fighting on the walls. Minor traces of corruption warned his aura senses but for the most part he tried to conserve his energies and focus on walking, one foot in front of the other.

    The leather brace on his arm had been removed and both daggers had been requested for holding with a promise that he would get them back once they were in a secure location. Even armed, Cris doubted he¡¯d be able to fight his way or prove a sufficient challenge to the group and besides his thoughts and body remained clouded. The same had gone for the backpack containing the remains of the bottle and packages that had been given to him by Maxton Ge and Ren.

    Cris noted that the construct had made his own sword and shield disappear and the three augmented showed no signs of weapons at hand. Given their strength they could probably fight cultists barehanded and win along with managing their own levels of lack of sleep and exhaustion far better than him.

    He¡¯d barely had enough time to catch his breath and the lack of sleep and experience so far was beginning to take its toll. The fact that he was still a young man gave him enough stamina to cope for a while longer but he¡¯d need a proper rest, along with a bath and a period of truly cleansing his body. The damage he¡¯d done in the dungeon below wasn¡¯t going to easily heal without sufficient time.

    The augmented soldier Agnes was in the lead, stopping for seconds at a time when she¡¯d either make a hand signal or glance at the woman with the silken mask for non-verbal confirmation before they carried walking. Ren, and Maxton Ge took little interest in their surrounding and continued to talk in the same strange language with occasional input from the women clearly in charge of their little group.

    With regards to Marley, Cris barely heard him make a single sound. He caught glimpses of him and his cloak when he turned his head, but walking forward and trying to look back didn¡¯t mesh well together and Cris accepted that they were probably safe from harm for now.

    As the group rounded a familiar tunnel entrance, Cris saw traces of light in a set of stairs reaching upwards towards an open trapdoor which led directly to the backrooms of the tavern. Likely, with a bit more walking he¡¯d eventually be back in the same place as when he¡¯d started.

    After a few more minutes of the group walking in relative silence Agnes had gestured and the group had entered into the once occupied tavern. Drinks had been spilt or left, chairs and tables knocked over and scattered as the group made their own way out of the front door into the street ahead.

    Ren and Maxton Ge both sat down on the side of the street, the woman with the silk mask stood on the side with her arms crossed and the two augmented came close for a moment before they took position on both sides of the group leaving Cris to stand by himself.

    Cris could see that wooden barriers had been placed down on both sides and any residents living nearby had bolted their own doors or shutters once the Queen¡¯s Guard had announced their presence. There was little noise or sounds of life to be heard but it could have simply been a matter of the time.

    He¡¯d clearly been either inside the tavern, or in the hidden areas below far longer than he thought considering the lack of the moon in the skies.

    Time had passed and the sun had begun to rise, illuminating the capital city, bringing tinges of gold and beams of sunlight which were welcomed. The ever present glow of the Goddess, in her avatar form remained hovering above the main temple.

    During the night she would dim into a luminescent form, always present, but her light reduced to allow those citizens and faithful time to sleep during the night knowing they would remained protected from the worst excesses of the unleashed magical corruption of the deceased final Dark Lord.

    Cris remembered when he had been training in the temple how they had been taken to the outskirts of the temple barriers which kept the avatar of the Goddess removed from the public. On certain days, the Queen would lead her own remembrances of those who died during the war and the final sacrifice they made before the revenge of the Dark Lord was revealed.

    During those times, all members of the faithful lucky enough to have been chosen from a random lottery would have the same view in which he had. A lone women, her body a bright warm glowing figure with hands clasped in prayer enclosed in a constant stream of white light comparable to the stars in the night sky.

    Blessed be the Goddess Aliza. Praise her sacrifice.

    Cris considered making the holy gesture, but since he has been removed from the ranks of trainee priests it no longer held the same flavour. He felt like a fake for doing so. The fact that his present company was odd to say the least, and likely extremely dangerous he didn¡¯t want to do anything else to trigger another event. Say, being knocked on the head unconscious and being locked in an underground cell of heretic cultists.

    ¡®Fascinating, how she can keep expelling so much power over more than a decade but she still remains. I would assume even gods have limits. Like a single candle flame which will never be extinguished despite the strength of the storm, a remarkable minor Goddess. Ah, if only your young eyes could see what mine can. I can see the paths, the lines, the strings in which she uses to clean your homeland and protect this final city of yours. Do you pray to her or fall prey to her whims?¡¯ said Maxton Ge. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The man had produced a pair of darkened glasses, the frames metal and well-made but the glasses themselves were entirely a shade of deep black and Cris couldn¡¯t understand why the man would wear them the light of the Goddess affected his strange golden eyes.

    Cris would forgive the man, the foreigner for his transgressions and lack of faith. Despite having lived in the capital city for fifteen years since he was barely a toddler he was also commented on for his olive skin and red-brown hair. He knew the feeling. Not that he trusted the man, but he did consider the construct behind him would do more than a little damage to the man calling himself Disease Master if he tried to hurt Cris once more.

    ¡®I pray as do we all. In this place, the Goddess literally protects us. Some of us fail and become corrupted but the Queen mandated that none of them would be killed, attempts would be made to cure and failures would be put into a place where none of them would hurt others or themselves.¡¯ said Cris.

    Raising a hand to block the steadily rising dawn from his eyes he pointed to one of the three minor mountains in the city. Atop it was a castle, with a tall peak at the top, surrounding it was swathes of dead vegetation and gnarled trees. Even now he could see the glow from within and there was a slight green and brown haze surrounding it.

    Despite the appearance, it was a place of healing and protection. Cris had never been assigned or close enough to the castle but he knew the reputation which the Queen had instilled. Originally it had been one of her ancestral homes but she had in part bequeathed it to the Church of Light and Purity in her dual role as both Queen and Head of the Church.

    A hand reached out and applied pressure to his shoulder as it grew in strength and he flinched a little. The grip was firm but the intention behind it was to reassure not a display of power or a threat. The fingers squeezed before patting his shoulder.

    [Prison. Even for helping others or for the protection of the individual it remains a prison unless all inside are freed. Disease Master, protect your precious eyes. They will be needed. Take in the sight of the Goddess of this city.] came the voice of the construct Ren.

    Nodding his head, Cris wondered how long they were to wait outside the now-emptied tavern and immediate surrounding area. The Queen¡¯s Guard would have taken away every single inhabitant to a local temple where a priest would check and cleanse them if necessary or remove them accordingly to the asylum on the mountain.

    Kirkbride Castle had suffered a bad reputation he knew from old tales where a previous ruler had wanted to imprison all those who disagreed with him or had wanted to discover treasonous plots to his rule.

    Cris was sure that the reputation was deserved but enough people had been able to directly visit their relatives under protection of the Queen¡¯s Guard and spread word that they had been well-treated and fed in warmth if not comfort.

    Either place, it was a place that Cris had always wanted to visit if only out of curiosity for the true nature of the place. He had no clue how thousands of poor unfortunate deeply corrupted were kept under control.

    The relative quietness of both the immediate area, the street and his companions in the group was beginning to grind on Cris. Talking for the sake of talking wasn¡¯t something he had been taught held any value for nobility. He needed to consider an opinion and express it both clearly and with authority.

    Glancing to his side, he saw the construct and Disease Master both sitting cross-legged on the ground with a small pile of green tiles between them. Likely, they had come from Ren and his spatial magical ability. Each of the pieces held a different series of lines, closer to a drawing than written language as the pair picked up one and added it into their own pile or discarded it to the side. He supposed they were playing a game but he¡¯d never been a fan of gambling, spending money on entertainment was considered normal for nobility but an excess of games of chance was not.

    ¡®Young Master Cris, do you want to learn how to play? I can teach you as a way of apology for...forcing your hand. Believe me, the statue that walks has truly taught me the error of my ways. Mainly by breaking more than a few of my ribs and some other bones. Luckily I heal quick. Would you care to join us? We don¡¯t play for money, more for the skill of winning. No-name here is a good player but he lacks creativity and I know all his moves. Believe me when you spend two years travelling on the road with the same person you get to know them well. Come, join us!¡¯ said Maxton Ge as one hand fiddled with his glasses with the dark lenses and the other rapidly picked and discarded tiles in between the pair seemingly without thought.

    Shaking his head Cris, folded his arms. The sun was slowly rising but the heat had yet to reach the city and he felt a deep chill inside. The food and drink he had been gifted sat inside his stomach well enough but didn¡¯t fill him as much as he had wanted.

    Suddenly, a cloak was draped over his shoulders, there was a smell of blood but he found the material comfortable. The weight of it surprised him though.

    A perfumed smell and hot breath came across his skin giving him goosebumps as Agnes whispered into his ear.

    ¡®Consider yourself rescued. Here, a refund for our lack of action. Forget about Joachim, he¡¯ll appreciate the fact that you wanted to make the effort. We¡¯ll make sure he gets to see a professional healer this time. Also, Marley already gambled your scrip and made a decent profit and he¡¯ll complain if we don¡¯t make sure a client is fully satisfied. He found a few counterfeit notes and handed them over to the relevant authorities. I¡¯d ask for another kiss but clearly you¡¯re in no state for it. Your first time seeing dead bodies? When you kill the sensation is worse. I¡¯ll need the cloak back when you go home, don¡¯t worry...Young Lord Johan. ¡¯ said Agnes.

    Her cloak was obviously made of a much stronger fabric than he had originally thought, he rubbed a lower part of it through his bare fingers and found it was far rougher than he had imagined. Thicker as well, it wasn¡¯t fabric as he has first assumed. A type of leather perhaps but light enough to wear as a cloak.

    A hand reached into one of his pockets and stuffed what Cris was assumed was an amount of his own scrip before he could notice it. He recalled her inhuman reaction speed.

    Another trait of the augmented. I wonder what price they pay for gifts like that?

    ¡®I would suggest that your inquisitive mind doesn¡¯t ask where the cloak comes from. Not only our bodies were augmented when they...transformed us during the final days of the war. You want to head home? Anyone there waiting for you, this late past your bed-time?¡¯ said Agnes with a light chuckle to her tone.

    Underneath the cloak, she wore the same outfit she had previously but this time there were visible scratches and even glints of metal. She mock covered her body with her hands and gave Cris a disapproving look.

    ¡®You really are a pretty one. Intelligent as well, but not my type. Not as though I really have one. Oh, looks like Marley had decided to take your new friends up on their offer. He¡¯s always been interested in games that one. I don¡¯t understand why someone like him ended up in my unit but each to their own story. I¡¯ll tell you mine if you wanted to truly listen.¡¯ said Agnes.

    Simply nodding his head to her words Cris heard the voices of Ren, Maxton Ge more excited this time as they had a new player join their game along with the clacking of the tiles. He¡¯d take the time when he had sufficiently washed himself, calmed down and recovered a little to ask them what exactly the game they were playing was called.

    He knew the pair clearly weren¡¯t traders, they were far too powerful for that, but they didn¡¯t strike him as wandering adventurers who had travelled across the world. All he knew was that they had their own goals and Maxton Ge or Disease Master was clearly interested in the nature of the corruption.

    The wooden barriers blocking the street had been pushed to the side by hands which Cris hadn¡¯t seen but then again he¡¯d barely been paying much attention to the view in front of him as the sound of horses whinnying and carriage wheels clacking came.

    ¡®Stand straight Young Master...Johan. Our carriages have arrived. Time for us to depart and you to learn a few sad truths. We¡¯ll meet again soon enough. After all, I owe you answers about us augmented ones.¡¯ said Agnes as gave him a kiss on his cheek before signalling to Marley.

    The women with the silk mask raised both her hands in a sweeping gestures and bowed to the group raising her own voice to make herself heard. The three playing the game put away the tile pieces and Ren made them disappear with a blue light before they all stood up.

    ¡®Ladies, Gentleman and Esteemed Guests. Our transportation has arrived. Captain, you will ask your comrade Richtson to stop guarding us from the rooftops and attend his own carriage. The rest of us need to board. Representative of the Celestial Kingdom, your carriage has a little more flourish on behalf of the Queen as a minor recognition of your skills. We have a meeting to attend.¡¯ said the woman.

    Cris just rubbed his eyes as three horse drawn carriages pulled up. All of them were marked with the sign for the Queen¡¯s Guard and the sigil for the Church of Light and Purity. He sighed and moved towards the first one with doors open, not caring if it was meant for him or not. He was approaching sheer exhaustion and as he struggled inside he was barely able to sit down before he his eyelids grew heavy and he began to fall asleep.

    With a series of knocks and thumps on the side and ceiling of the interior of the horse drawn carriage it began to steadily move as the horses gently trotted forwards.

    ¡®Driver, take us direct to the City Government Headquarters. Take the slow route, we¡¯re in no rush and the young man clearly needs to rest as do I. The merchants quarter will suffice as a round route.¡¯ said the woman with the silk mask as she tore it off and let it fly off through a carriage window.

    A faint smell of sweet perfume began to waft through the interior of the carriage as the flesh and bone structure of the woman began to shift unseen.

 Book 1 Ch 11: Old Man Alessandro

    ¡®You left the university. What will you do now young master? Return to the old country? Go and live outside the walls of the city until a horde of corrupted decide to eat you alive? Marry a minor noble? This is not how you were raised. You will go back directly to talk to your tutor and apologise for your actions. If you mother heard of your actions why she would experience great disappointment in yourself and in my own guide-¡¯ said Alessandro as the young man stood in front of him wearing white and red robes marking his status as a trainee of the academy of purity ripped off a badge off his uniform and threw it to the floor.

    Out of sheer frustration he had taken one of the artistic vases from a plinth and smashed it against the wall. The fact that it could have fed a lower-quarter family made him ashamed but he was feeling so angry, so frustrated that all he could do was lash out.

    They were inside the main room of his minor estate. Barely enough to service a House for even minor nobility but had been built higher on one of the three mountains of the cities so remained protected from the lower quarters but close to the merchant section of the city.

    His mother had originally carried enough assets and wealth to buy herself into this position in the city and with her title from her ancient noble homeland which had been proved through the records of the Queen and the King Consort she had established herself as a member of nobility.

    Granted the deaths of so many nobles on the battlefields in the last days of the war against the Dark Lord and the corruption which took overs before the Goddess intervened directly she was a welcome addition. Her son, born from out of wedlock from her previous relationship as a young woman was not.

    The fact that she had given birth at sixteen, her unique appearance as a clear foreigner and her own mannerisms and training as a noble in her homeland had given her further suitors amongst those of the lords and ladies of the capital city.

    The servants, hearing the argument had closed the doors and left Cristiano with his Head Servant and Butler to argue. Fights between them were extremely rare and few in-between.

    The room itself was expensive if old fashioned, stone walls with wooden flooring and alchemical lighting. A rich array of colourful images and a large fireplace decorated the room. It was in part a room for leisure, education and entertainment, the largest inside the minor estate. A small servants quarters, kitchen and two bedrooms adjoining. A small garden and training ground lay out the back along with horse stables long since emptied out.

    There had been neither the funds nor the inclination to keep horses inside. Even paying the servants had been a chore, Alessandro himself managed the finances of the minor house tightly and efficiently in his role as head servant.

    Restraining himself from lashing out Cristiano clenched both his fists tightly onto the white fabric of his trainee-priest robes. The material stronger than his desire to rip it off his body.

    ¡®No. Alessandro, you might remember my mother but I barely do. She left me when I was five years old. Five years old! Who does that? I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m taking this from you. You¡¯re my house servant, you¡¯re not my grandfather. How about you listen to what I want to do for a change? I was kicked out for asking the wrong questions. As for what next? I don¡¯t know but I do have a plan for tonight. I¡¯m going down to the lower quarters to find some genuine people, have a few drinks until I¡¯m feeling good enough and then find a girl to kiss. I¡¯m tired of following orders and routine. I need one single night of freedom away from it all and then in the morning...I¡¯ll...I don¡¯t care right now. Tomorrow¡¯s Cristiano can deal with it. He¡¯ll wake up with the hangover, not me. I don¡¯t need a lecture from an old solder who decided to escort my mother to this kingdom out of fear.¡¯ said Cristiano.

    The young man was seated in one of the several items of furniture inside the room. He had positioned himself on the same large green backed chair his mother had always sat with him when had had been a boy and unconsciously he had grown to use it as his own.

    Standing opposite him in front of the twin decorated hard-wood doors was his head of house servant and butler Alessandro.

    The old man had short cropped hair and was of average height but he was slim, thin even beneath his smartly dressed black suit with white lapels. His shoes had been polished and he held a straight posture with both arms tucked behind his back.

    ¡®You possess the fire of your mother and the inner will of your father. When they were young their respective families opposed their relationship and in spite of it they bore you out of love and passion. Your mother...loves you but she has her own family to consider. Her role, her position, even as a minor noble you must learn to adapt to these circumstances. You have opportunity so many living here do not. I did not educate you to be a spoiled brat. You are better than this but I will not argue with the desires of youth. Cristiano, a parting gift. Take these blades, they were meant to be a gift from your mother upon your graduation from the Church. To guide and protect you.¡¯ said Alessandro.

    Walking over to the large fireplace in the room he pressed a hidden button and reaching inside the cold fireplace, the weather had been sufficiently warm to avoid lighting it, pulled out a rectangular box inlaid with gold leaf and patterns of olive trees from his old country.

    Fingers pressed on the sides he clicked it open and opened the lid revealing a pair dark switch-blade knives with horn grips.

    ¡®These...these belonged to your father once. Your mother never sold them, never showed them to anyone except myself and she made me promise to hand them to you.¡¯ said Alessandro.

    The mention of his mother once again made Cristiano experience a burst of rage. He slapped the box out of the hands of his servant sending it clattering onto the wooden floor. His anger stopping him from seeing the look on the face of Alessandro.

    ¡®My father? He was the reason that everyone calls me a half-noble! The reason that my dear mother decided to remarry to higher nobility and make her own life once more. You think that memories matter to me? All, I know about him is that he made my mother pregnant and died in one of the stupid feuds between the noble families back in the old country. No, I earned this blade through my efforts¡¯ said Cristiano as he pulled out his own white blade from a sheath on his back.

    ¡®I¡¯m done here. Give me my script allowance and I¡¯ll see you tomorrow morning. Or I won¡¯t. Either way, you don¡¯t know anything old man. Go and manage this worthless house for all it¡¯s worth. I don¡¯t know why my mother made you accompany here to this kingdom or even why you agreed but we¡¯re done.¡¯ said Cristiano.

    Alessandro flicked a wrist and an amount of noble scrip appeared in his hand. He¡¯d been good at minor tricks which had impressed Cristiano when he was younger but he¡¯d had enough of being told what to do by an old man who wasn¡¯t even his own flesh and blood.

    Snatching the noble scrip from Alessandro¡¯s hand he marched over to the twin doors, yanked one open and slammed it behind him leaving his butler behind with the box on the floor.

    He barely heard the final words of Alessandro as he half-ran, half-walked to the front door of his minor mansion. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡®¡­.Careful¡­.find¡­..danger.¡¯ said the butler.

    Cristiano woke up from his dream. Sweat was running down his back as his hands reached out and gripped the soft cushioned seat beneath him and he pulled on the curtain next to him revealing the city streets passing along. There was a strong scent in the air, one that he remembered from earlier when he had woken up on the lap of the woman in the silk mask, the one with the facial aberration. Coughing he pulled his face to the window. The strong smells of the city brought back awareness to his face as Cris began to smell stronger smells of spice, vegetables and cooked meats.

    From the view outside the horse-pulled carriage Cris recognised the sights of the merchants quarter of the city, despite the capital city still technically in a state of war outside trade with the three surrounding kingdoms was encouraged. Where there was profit to be made, traders would make the journey to the capital city, sell their produce or pick up local items and then sell it.

    The remaining nobility had also inherited a great deal of lands outside the city and a small influx of minor nobility as in his mother¡¯s case had flocked and been able to purchase both countryside, titles and influence within the city. As far as he knew it was the six Lords and Ladies who together with Queen Ferberg formed the governing councils and stood above all. Their holdings both within the city and in those villages and towns that had survived the corruption or been reclaimed and held after the end of the war.

    Cris preferred to keep his viewpoint outside of the carriage as he realised that they had passed a street earlier, clearly they had been going in a broad loop from the lower districts up to the markets quarter and closer to where the nobility, city government, military and priesthood resided.

    If he was to exit the carriage now likely, he would be able to make his way back to his small mansion on foot, there would be Alessandro waiting for him with a list of steps to take next and marriage proposals to consider, or enlistment in the city guard or for one of the reclamation mercenary troops. Even signing up with a wandering merchant and leaving this place behind him was a viable option, he¡¯d met ex-priests and trainees who¡¯d expressed and told him how it was possible.

    ¡®You can look at me if you like. I¡¯m quite aware of how my face makes people..uncomfortable. The changes it makes cannot always be controlled but I¡¯ve had a great deal of practice with it. I¡¯m sorry for using the same chemical effect on you but Disease Master promised that it would calm you down and provide decent dreams. A shame it doesn¡¯t work on everybody but given your history with the Church of Light and Purity you would have been exposed to a similar variant. Would you like me to stop the carriage if you want to buy something to eat or drink? Arrangements have been made for suitable cleaning and a change of clothes in your size is waiting for you at my offices.¡¯ said the woman with no face.

    Drawn towards the sound of her voice Cris saw that in her hands she was holding a glass bottle with sticks of lit incense which she had extinguished.

    Cris ignored her and continued to look outside as his own stomach gurgled in hunger and thirst. Regardless of his own choices he was a captive to the strange woman and he was fascinated by the rest the group that followed her instructions and worked with her. He could always jump from the carriage and find a place to hide, he knew the merchants quarter well enough to do that. Even leaving the city would be an option as long as he had scrip in his hand.

    All he would have to do is leave Alessandro without a clue of where he had left. The old man would be saddened and his mother would have lost her son whom she barely communicated with aside from messages, birthday and celebration presents gifted in her name.

    Not that much to lose really.

    ¡®I¡¯ve seen those eyes before. The sense of thinking about your future. Shall we be frank for a moment? Ah, I prefer to talk face to face as it were. I think...a young redhead will suit. With freckles and green eyes.¡¯ said the woman with no face as underneath her silken mask her skin stretched without her hands touching it and reformed underneath.

    Having seen the transformation once, Cris understood why she chose to wear a mask. If she chose to do that openly in public she would be either denounced, arrested or worse. Magic use outside of the Church of Purity and Light was strictly mandated, besides, all the gods of the kingdom had long since stopped responding since the Goddess Aliza rose into prominence. Cris knew that the higher up priests and priestesses knew the exact reason behind it but he had been admonished when he had asked and reproached for his lack of true faith.

    ¡®I don¡¯t have a preference. As long as you don¡¯t look like my mother then I don¡¯t personally care what you become¡­.actually if you could avoid looking like Agnes that would help. Any other woman except her.¡¯ said Cris.

    The woman laughed, a strangled sound as her vocal cords stretched and altered along with her face then the flesh shifting underneath the silken mask stopped and she pulled if off with a flourish and crumpling into one hand threw it out of the window.

    ¡®Interesting...I didn¡¯t know you had a preference for older military trained women who could crush you. Physically I mean. Those limbs of hers aren¡¯t just for show.¡¯ said the woman with a fresh young face, short red hair, freckles and green eyes. Her teeth shone white and clean with no signs of decay.

    The horse drawn carriage had two opposing seats, enough for four at least with two sets of curtains on each window, one to block out the sun and the second to give privacy to the occupant. The interior was plain enough but well built, old Cris recognised, but good quality. The interior wood had been painted over in shades of grey, a strange choice as it didn¡¯t match with the deep green of the leather seats.

    ¡®I have a preference for you stopping this carriage and letting me leave of my own free will.¡¯ said Cris as he folded his arms. He was aware that his own noble clothing was now becoming torn, worn-out and he was beginning to smell. He¡¯d need to throw it away and find a new set of hard wearing travelling gear.

    ¡®I¡¯ve met your mother. She talks highly of you. Her oldest son, tell me, do you ever meet your half-siblings? They admire you. But her husband on the other hand...being one of the six Lords and Ladies of the city is no easy task. I think he doesn¡¯t like you. You remind him that his wife once knew another man before him. But he still cares about you in his own way. Do you know he protected you from punishment of partial heresy? All those questions..all those ideas. Hard to find someone like that, who actually thinks for a change.¡¯ said the red haired young faced woman sitting in front of him.

    Her body hadn¡¯t changed during the process and she remained the same slim build but had taken the cloak of Cris when he had been sleeping and covered herself with it.

    ¡®Am I pretty enough? I think that many would like how I look. I can change my voice if you like, but I¡¯d prefer not to. Enough conversation, we need to have a serious talk my Young Master Cristiano Cifesboren. My name is Lady Joanne Dee Mawr and I am the Spymistress of our fair Nurburg Kingdom appointed personally by the Queen herself. To make it simple, I¡¯ll offer you a choice. You can leave this carriage, even by one of the gates of the city if you wish. I¡¯ll give you provisions, weapons and even enough money to buy your passage on a merchant caravan to wherever you wish. Or you can play a direct role in stopping the entire destruction of this city, our countryside, every single living person here and the kingdom itself.¡¯ said Lady Joanne Dee Mawr.

    Cris glanced out the window, he saw the same market vendors hawking their goods, different customers this time. They had made a loop once again around the market quarter. A few people on the street had begun to point at the carriage and young children waved when they saw him looking out.

    ¡®No. I can¡¯t stop the corruption from destroying us, only the Goddess has the true and raw power to slow it and turn this kingdom back to what it once was. I¡¯m an ex-trainee priest looking for a new way to live. Yes, I¡¯d love answers to my questions but you¡¯re looking for the wrong person. Surely the Queen herself as the Head of the Church of Light and Purity has more ability than me to stop the magical disease. You can give me that cloak back as well. It was a gift from Agnes.¡¯ said Cris.

    When he saw the faces of the children of merchants and their servants smiling at waving at him, he pulled open his part of the curtain and began to wave back. To his surprise Lady Joanne imitated his actions and waved and smiled as well.

    ¡®Funny boy. You think the corruption is a threat to us? We¡¯re making progress beating it back after all these years. No, there¡¯s a more serious threat than that. I estimate we have a little more than a year at most until our old three allied kingdoms decide to invade. Tell me, how would you like to be part of saving the kingdom and having an adventure and making new friends in the process?¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    She raised her hands as the cloak slid off her shoulders and fell onto the carpeted floor of the horse carriage and made a series of knocks and thumps on the roof of the carriage. They abruptly stopped as Cris steadied himself from toppling off his seat as the horses whinnied in front.

 Book 1 Ch 12: Weekly Sortie

    Out of her weekly schedule, the Queen appreciated the actions of her consort husband to be the most honest expression of his personality which she had seen any noble give. He was an honest man to a fault, he had never even shown interest in anyone else than herself despite various attempt to gain his favour.

    In some ways he was a simple man, trying to do his best to support his wife while managing his own frustrations at his lack of power despite being her husband. Queen Ferberg had done her best to make sure that he was fully supplied and equipped for his own weekly actions, the citizens of the city had grown used to it and she was certain that it had become a sort of game or a form of entertainment after the first few years.

    The fact that he would allow anyone to join as long as they showed sufficient enthusiasm, the ability to follow orders and were not in fact essential to the running of the smooth running of her capital city of her kingdom had done nothing but increase his popularity and the image of the nobles who had remained in the city following the mass outbreak at the end of the war.

    In fact, the main source of funding had come from the merchants and from direct support from the six Lords and Ladies themselves who had participated on occasion in the type of sorties in her husband had become an expert in.

    At least it boosted his popularity and hers by simply running them although she did have to stop several of the elderly members of the church and city administration from wanting to feel young men again through direct combat.

    If they died, her workload would only increase. Being the noble representative, balancing of Queen, having to navigate careful politics of the six Lords and Ladies and being head of the largest religious institution to have existed in the history of her kingdom meant that while she was willing to give a large part of her daily time these efforts she didn¡¯t want to delegate any more than she had already.

    She had attempted to travel incognito-style but having her bodyguard clearly accompany a woman with a high-quality white robe and hood everyone was immediately aware it was her. Thankfully, she had managed to maintain her public popularity and held a weekly council of her own open to general citizens, visiting merchants and even beggars or those who had suffered badly in the war.

    Held inside one of her old family storage areas inside the merchant quarter, she would go there, listen to as many grievances, radical solutions or ideas or even accept minor gifts of flowers or foodstuffs and distribute her own style of justice.

    All gifts were immediately tallied and put to direct use as necessary. For all they knew she did it as a matter of course but in truth she was giving the most valuable resource at her disposal, her own time. In a way not having children had been a sad experience for her, but she knew that her love was devoted towards her husband and her kingdom.

    There was still time though, the issues of the magical corruption had become a secondary concern after fifteen years of initial survival, support from the Goddess Aliza and her own efforts. She was capable of having children, her body was more than healthy as was her husbands.

    She had inherited the throne along with Ulrich when they had both been so young and thrown into the position of regent as a matter of desperation in the face of loss. Even after fifteen years she still maintained a youthful appearance but part of that had been down to the Goddess.

    Children, a larger family would be a welcome break. A small realm only of my own making. Not yet. Not just yet.

    No, the main concern was how long the surrounding kingdoms that had once been in the position of vassal states and allies decided to finally decide on a course of action and take apart everything her ancestors for generations upon generations had tried to build.

    Offers of negotiation, peace and security treaties had largely been ignored or drawn up for debates in the respective power structures of each one. Another aspect that consumed both her time and energy, both magical, physical and mental.

    She made an effort to meet her husband as he did with her and they would share meals together along with walks along the walls of the city under heavy guard by both priests, several of her husband¡¯s trusted troops and her own Queen¡¯s guard.

    Atop the limits of the capital city they saw all the farmland, villages and towns which had suffered and been brought back under the protection of her kingdom.

    The deep tone of a man¡¯s voice, deep with concern and love for her pulled out her of her thoughts as a strong calloused hand took her smooth one and gave it a squeeze. She responded to the gesture and shook her head letting her hair flow down her back. She had been glad that it gave her an excuse to wear combat gear, it was far easier to move around in than her own outfits of state.

    The kingdom had wanted a princess to take the throne, then a warrior queen and then a priestess who would embrace the will of the Goddess and provide them all with succour and salvation. Her choice of outfit depended on which role she had to play.

    ¡®¡­.Arda¡­.Arda!¡¯ came the man¡¯s voice. This time it rang out with concern and warmth and both of her soft, smooth skinned hands were enveloped by rougher ones and pulled her forwards into his broad chest. She felt warmth and heat from within him, the core of his soul remained pure and unaffected by any source of corruption. To make sure, she gave him a little boost and re-protected his physical and spiritual form but took care to avoid the side effects of over using Light and Purity Magic.

    The gifts the Goddess granted always came with a cost for most but not for her, she was a channel for the true power of divinity.

    ¡®Ulrich? I might not look it all the time but we know who would win in a match of strength. I appreciate the effort though...old man. Is that grey in your hair already? I was thinking about responsibilities and how building our own family away from all this would be a suitable reward.¡¯ said Queen Ferberg as she easily pulled out of his grip and grabbing hold of his neck with both hands pulled her husband down to her height as she gazed into his eyes and examined the features on his face.

    There could be signs of wrinkles there, or was it creases caused when he liked to smile, laugh and joke. In a way he was more vulnerable than she was and his little weekly sorties were part of his effort to contribute more, to help her as best as he could with his own skills.

    The Goddess had never bestowed her own powers on him and he lacked all aptitude for magic so he resorted to martial means and combat. He had never been a patient young man nor a grown one and the Queen hated seeing him frustrated. Not that he wasn¡¯t educated, if the citizens and soldiers knew that behind his rough exterior was a man who cared for plants, self-education and trying to understand complex legal laws they would be surprised.

    ¡®Arda. I know that look, you¡¯re worried. Why can¡¯t we enjoy our walk? I can point out exactly where we¡¯re heading to today.¡¯ said the King Consort as he stopped their walk, trying to ignore the dozen soldiers and single female bodyguard standing directly next to his wife as he tried to point towards a column of smoke in the distance. His movements were restricted as the Queen applied her own considerable physical strength and caused his armour to creak as she pulled his neck down again. Their lips were close to touching. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡®More killing? Or is this a rescue operation? No, I think you¡¯re after bandits today or opportunists. I doubt there are enough deeply corrupted who lost their souls and minds to sate you. I¡¯m sorry Ulrich. You never asked to become this¡­.this figure of protection.¡¯ said Queen Ferberg.

    A cough next to them, caused the married couple to turn their heads as they saw the bodyguard of the Queen raise an armoured hand, the other resting upon the hilt of her weapon.

    ¡®¡­.It¡¯s...time. Your majesty. The...King...Consort needs to..go.¡¯ said Sara.

    The rest of the dozen soldiers had tried their best to avert their gaze but more than a few had whispered words between each other and attempts at stopping themselves from smiling on their faces.

    ¡®You did it now Arda I need to teach you a good lesson in manners. All these soldiers are stuck here on duty just for the two of us getting a lesson in how a good marriage is built and last. Even Lady Lightborne would blush if she was...I¡¯m sorry Sara. Your protection of my wife is deeply appreciated. Would you care to join us this time? Your abilities would be more than welcome and the Queen¡¯s Guard would surely protect her. We haven¡¯t suffered an attack on the city from the outside in five years at least. The wards and magic''s hold strongly. Why your strength and spirit alone would make our sortie an easier experience. The less blood shed, the better the outcome. said Ulrich.

    Arda stopped suddenly, as her arms remained wrapped around the neck of her husband and pulling him closer looked him deeply in his eyes. They looked so tired, he tried his best to hide it but the constant state of war over fifteen years had taken it¡¯s toll on him. His hair failed to show traces of grey but she saw strands of it in her beard. Still, he knew better than to ask her bodyguard. Despite her training, ability and position the Queen knew that she hated the idea itself of killing unless necessary.

    ¡®No. Your apology to Lady Lightborne isn¡¯t sufficient. She demands more tribute than mere words. Ask her, in front of your soldiers and my guard, ask her what she truly wants. All of us have our own desires, our own needs. I warrant even amongst your own troops, they grow tired of your efforts. Not because you of husband, but the cause has been long and tiresome. Remember all of you that threats remain, both external and internal and we will not find true peace until they have been settled!¡¯ said Arda.

    As she spoke, she injected a touch of authority into her voice, in her case a mixture of her position as ruling monarch and the magical ability she channelled as the one true chosen of the Goddess Aliza.

    In response to her words her bodyguard Sara, bowed her head in respect, the surrounding soldiers and Queen¡¯s Guards fell to one knee and knelt with head forward and even her husband was beginning to tremble at his knees if she hadn¡¯t been holding him up.

    She released her presence and pushing her lips forward kissed her husband deeply, breathing in his earthy smell. The amount of training he undertook with his soldiers alongside any volunteers who were selected was no small amount and he hadn¡¯t bathed yet as was his habit before making a sortie outside of the high walls of the capital city into the surrounding countryside.

    ¡®Her majesty has spoken. Soldier, what do you want? What do you truly want?¡¯ said King Ulrich as he pointed at one of his personal troops who had been whispering earlier.

    The surrounding troops hadn¡¯t yet raised their heads or moved from their kneeling positions with the exception of the Queen¡¯s personal bodyguard, Lady Lightborne who had only bowed her head.

    ¡®You can stand. Every single one of you had their own hopes, wishes and dreams. This isn¡¯t the life we wanted, for a time we can take it, but all wars need to end. Stand up and tell me your future. What do you want from it?¡¯ said King Ulrich.

    The soldier swallowed as his light armour and weapons clinked against the cold blue stone of the city walls beneath his feet. In the distance, the column of smoke rose into the air, their target for today¡¯s sortie still awaited him and he had been fortunate enough to be in the company of both monarchs of their kingdom.

    He lifted his head up, keeping one knee down and raised his head with determination in his eyes.

    ¡®I want a small bit of land, a farm, and a family to protect it and raise. I want the left-overs of the Dark Lord gone from our land. I want the Queen and our King Consort to finally stop having to sacrifice, I want the Goddess Aliza herself to rest and no longer protect us. Your Majesties.¡¯ said the soldier.

    Queen Arda smiled and lifted her husband up, the weight of his golden, augmented armour nothing to her boosted strength and physical musculature. Carefully, she did so to make sure that it appeared that she was letting go of her grip rather than support. It was important that he showed the value of his vitality and passion in front of his soldiers.

    ¡®All of you need to keep your own dreams warm inside your hearts for the day we realise peace.¡¯ said Queen Arda.

    With a gesture from her and a nod from her husband the surrounding soldiers of both groups, stood up and took standing guard position. She knew that older soldiers would gossip and spread the word of the strong relationship between the ruling monarch and her consort and how their love remained strong as did their desire for protection of the kingdom and capital city.

    ¡®Lady Lightborne. Please share your own desire with these who volunteer and fight to protect our fair city, our kingdom. Take your time. No man or woman will judge the pace of your words, nor the time needed to express them.¡¯ said Queen Arda.

    The young woman in white plate armour gave no indication or change in facial expression as she raised her head and with a gloved hand pointed herself.

    ¡®No...more..orphans lost. No more...taken. Protected. By me. Loved...by me. Sheltered...by me.¡¯ said Sara as she banged her white armour plate in her chest with a gloved fist as though to prove her point.

    There was silence across the stretch of wall as the young armoured woman took three footsteps and gripped the arm of the Queen tugging her away from her husband. As she was pulled away, Queen Arda squeezed the hand and fingers tight, her strength enough to be felt through his golden gauntlets without breaking them outright.

    ¡®Be back for a meal with me Ulrich, come back safe and pure. Thank you for your work.¡¯ she said as their fingers separated and her own Queen¡¯s Guard took positions around her prepared to move off the wall back into their own transport back to her palace.

    King Ulrich, pointed to the column of smoke rising from the distance and raised both his hands to cheer on both his personal soldiers and the volunteers that would join them. Today, they would sortie beyond the walls to try and claim back more farmland, more homes to live in and make the surrounding countryside a safer environment for all subjects.

 Book 1 Ch 13: Plain Sight Assassin

    ¡®We¡¯ve arrived for a brief stay and a quick chat only between us. I¡¯m thinking I could change my face again, wearing the same one for too long makes me bored. After all, I have as many to choose from as people live. Did you believe my story young man? Did you think me insane when I talked about bowls of noodles and people beyond gods? Every single story has a single grain of truth, I¡¯ll leave it up to you if you decide to tell others. Likely, nobody will believe you. And if you decided to use my actual name behind it then they¡¯d call you a spy in my own employ or a threat. That¡¯s the value of the truth, nobody wants to accept it. Yes, they might believe you about a woman whose face changes but the rest of it? No. Your habit of asking too many questions and an inquisitive, enquiring mind had gotten you into far deeper trouble that you realise young man. You were lucky you were a favoured student. The Head Mistress of the Academy protected you by forcing you out, we¡¯ve tried our best but finding all the...bad apples...in the barrel proves difficult. Rot and decay don¡¯t only come from death.¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    They had stopped the carriage on a side street in the merchants quarter and children had come running over along with more than a few merchants looking for opportunity and deals. Cris had been surprised at how fast the woman sitting opposite him could not only change her face but her entire personality and mannerisms. She was either a born actress or an extremely good liar, both in her his view made sense if she was actually the spy mistress of the kingdom.

    He had heard of her as many had but she was mean to be an old, greying woman, frail who was accompanied by a troupe of masked figures each of different ages, both male and female. Each would remove their mask in turn becoming the focal point while the old woman simply made her way through the city.

    Either the woman in front of him was far older than she appeared or her face and eyes weren¡¯t the only parts of her body she could change. Shapeshifters had been one one of the rarer troops belonging to the Dark Lord, each individual could easily shift form once consuming the flesh and soul of an individual.

    If there had been such a creature in front of him, his own aura senses would have been screaming at him, at even at the tavern entrance and tunnels beneath he would never have accompanied this strange woman.

    ¡®I know that look. Did anyone ever tell you that when you think your eyes draw to the up and right ever so slightly? No, I can¡¯t read minds. Spend long enough trying to read faces and you pick up these things. Merely a trick of the mind. I could train you along with other skills if you liked. Would you like some fruit? Or a sweetmeat perhaps?¡¯ asked Lady Joanne as she held up one of the small food baskets which she had purchased from a street merchant.

    They had provided her a discount first-time customer out for their first date as a noble couple. She had played the part well enough and even coerced Cris to play along as she smiled sweetly and said that they would pay directly in noble scrip, or hard currency if needed.

    Not that Cris blamed her for buying it, a carriage suddenly stopping on the side of a busy street after it had circled the area a few scant times would make watching eyes take notice of and tongues wagging. Better to satiate a few merchants around than draw further attention to themselves. The fact that the carriage lacked any house sigils on the outside meant it was being purposefully low-key. A young noble couple out for a trip and first date would make sense and stop all further questions.

    The smell within was calling to Cris, to his empty stomach and parched throat. Deciding that if she wanted him harmed then she wouldn¡¯t waste her time talking so much he took a bite and swallowed a large bite. His stomach ached but instantly felt better but his body was in need of liquid refreshments. The earlier items gifted from Maxton Ge had been digested hours ago.

    He regulated his own body making sure that he wouldn¡¯t need to relieve himself for a good while longer, not wanting to repeat the same mistake as the night before.

    Then he reached into the basket and pulled out a small clay flask, with a sniff, realising it was a weak wine he cracked open the top, dropping the lid back in the basket and drank deeply.

    ¡®I¡¯d ask if you need to use a toilet but you wouldn¡¯t be much of a trainee priest without a few minor magical skills to your name. Such as burning out harmful poisons. Not that any of these have them in. Here, take more. What isn¡¯t used gets ascribed back to the Queen upon her orders. Spending a little coin is fine but there needs to be transparent accountability. It was one of the first jobs she gave me before I ended up in my present lofty position. There had been a large portion of the surviving nobility eager to improve their finances quickly and the war provided opportunities for corruption. I simply impersonated and rooted them all out. Another story for another time perhaps. I think you¡¯ve made your decision.¡¯ said Joanne.

    She pulled another basket of food and drink and handed it over to Cris then crossed legs over, hit the ceiling with hand several times, closed the curtains inside the carriage and pulled out another silk mask from a compartment beside her seat and covered her face.

    Cris watched the shifting motion and focused his attention on two baskets of food and drink, he finished them off and packed away the leftovers and empty flasks into the baskets before tucking them under his carriage seat.

    ¡®I agree then. Not that I don¡¯t trust your word of releasing me freely. You have something of a reputation in the kingdom as an extremely dangerous person. I know the priest and priestesses actively fear you. Thank you for the food, will we leave again?¡¯ said Cris.

    The carriage began moving again shortly before he had even finished speaking but this time it was faster than before with a sense of deeper urgency. More than a few people who been browsing, buying or selling goods moved out of the way as the horse and carriage increased in speed. Cris finished a swallow of another small weak wine bottle before it was drained dry.

    The foodstuffs that he had been holding was nearly dropped form his hand as he gripped the side of his seat, opposite him Lady Joanne showed little sign of discomfort as she rocked side to side in time with the motion of the carriage.

    As she had put on a fresh silken mask, Cris wasn¡¯t able to clearly make out her features but the creases at the sides of her mouth indicated to him that she was smiling. Her hair remained the same red colour as she hadn¡¯t bothered it changing it until she caught on the fact that he was looking at her and the colours simply drained. Each lock of hair lost colour and became a pure white as it quickly shortened length down to just before her shoulders.

    ¡®I think I¡¯ve given you enough patience now, don¡¯t you think so? I¡¯m not going to hurt you or threaten you. You¡¯ve already been tested on that account twice and you¡¯ve done a decent job so far. I would like to ask a personal question but you don¡¯t have to give me an answer if you prefer. What do you think? Will you accept a question from a faceless woman and in return I¡¯ll answer one of yours freely and at length. We still have a little time until we arrive at our location. Oh, and to be clear it¡¯s a boring building in the government district. I¡¯ve got it on loan for the duration of this part of the operation. You would have passed it¡¯s like a hundred times and taken little interest. Deal or not Master Cifesboren?¡¯ said Lady Joanne as she cocked her head to the side.

    She touched her shortened hair, devoid of colour except for blank whiteness, it had also changed in texture, thinner than previously. Curling part of it in her fingers she placed a palm on her mask before dropping it back onto her lap.

    ¡®No. A trick repeated becomes accepted and then becomes normal. Ah, I forgot. I was meant to give you something else. I mean, I like this cloak and all but you¡¯re more than welcome to have it back. You might even need it later. A little protection always helps.¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    The carriage had stopped its sudden rocking as the horses pulling it switched from a gallop into a steady trot. Cris no longer felt his stomach lurch in protest, his face was somewhat green as the wine and sweetmeats settled back into his stomach. The sensation was less than comfortable.

    He tried to talk to the woman in the silk mask but when the carriage hit a hard bump in the road and tilted to the side his stomach protested and he held a hand over his mouth and one held up in the space between them to show he needed a moment.

    Gulping down his food and drink hadn¡¯t been the best idea but Cris was wary of applying his own light magic after his excess in the dungeon beneath the tavern. There had already been slippage and more would be damaging. He had heard rumours of the powers of the Fallen Angels and the damage they had incurred, more construct than human if the tales were to be believed.

    ¡®I¡¯m fine. Just a little indigestion. Questions and answers. I feel that all I end up with are more questions. To be honest, my father doesn¡¯t matter. I didn¡¯t know his name and my mother told me stories of his martial prowess but never his name. Perhaps she was concerned that I¡¯d accept it as my own surname instead of this¡­.joke name they gave me. Sorry, I can¡¯t answer your question. Does that count?¡¯ said Cris. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    His body had begun healing slowly, the two periods of time when he had slept had helped him somewhat but his skill using light and purity magic remained limited. He could infuse the power granted to him through a Goddess ideally through a designated weapon, attempt to purify corruption out of the physical and spiritual forms of others to a small degree and also use his aura to sense others.

    His popularity within the Academy of Purity had been down to his ability to learn fast and his general attitude towards the teachers. Many of the nobles there and few low-born had resented the position due to being third or fourth children in line to inherit and were relegated to a position in the church.

    In his particular case, once he had graduated he would likely have become one of the Queen¡¯s Guards or a guardian priest. He¡¯d not done that well in hand to hand combat drills so becoming one of the warrior monks who guarded the main temple would be unlikely.

    This woman felt like she knew too much about him, the entire situation with Agnes, her two comrades, the strange foreigners with their lyrical language had been constructed. There had been danger, he was sure of that, so they were clearly willing to put him at risk of death but the situation didn¡¯t make sense.

    Unless, his mother¡¯s present husband had decided to make an example of him and teach him a lesson but it was unlikely that the Duke would have that much political leverage and power to make the Spymistress of the kingdom to do his bidding.

    Even the Queen had her limits, only the Goddess Aliza was above all in her ever-protection of the Kingdom.

    The woman had failed to respond to his question as she shook her head as though in disbelief of his words or she was laughing at her own personal joke. The carriage continued on it¡¯s journey after a brief stop at a guard checkpoint, a few questions and Lady Joanne stuck one hand out of the carriage window with a folded document and a badge before Cris heard the guard usher them onwards with haste.

    The entire time he¡¯d never heard the carriage driver speak a single word. All the communication was done through the woman knocking on the ceiling above their heads and getting a response.

    As he was going to open his mouth to try and carry on the conversation or ask her what type of ciphers she used a series of knocks and bangs came from the ceiling of the carriage causing the woman to straighten her posture, place both hands in her lap and reach for another package, this time a small wooden chest underneath her seat.

    Seeing her expression she began to talk to him as she brushed off imaginary dust off the box and fussed over it a little with her hands. Cris was sure that her fingers gripped it harder than was necessary and if not for the mask he was certain that she had just licked her lips but the expression was far harder to make out without a clear face.

    ¡®A half-breed noble of foreign heritage, a failed academy trainee priest, a minor noble with a smaller mansion than my own. A young man with an inquisitive mind who asks too many questions and wants to know more. You didn¡¯t give me an answer but to make it short I need to employ you for a particular task. The why is saving the kingdom but the how is more tricky to explain. Ah, have a look outside, this took a little longer than I thought but everyone has had plenty of time to freshen up. Those augmented will be joining us a little later as they had to make a quick detour for their friend Joachim. None of this bootleg priest business, they¡¯ll meet a senior priest to help fulfil their needs. Here, have her cloak back. It stinks a little, as do you.¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    She had slipped the gift given to Cris from Agnes off her shoulders, given it a shake and a quick fold before tossing it over to his outstretched hands.

    Catching it Cris swiftly unfolded it and threw it over his own head, at the least he had a form of protection. He did prefer having a better set of equipment. Being unarmed this long was considered a risk, even if he was in the relative security of the capital city.

    ¡®Hmm..young Master Cifesboren. Do you know who Maxton Ge is? Do you know what he actually is aside from being an esteemed emissary from the Celestial Empire? A fish jumps over a waterfall and become a dragon. Such a strange saying, in his own language it makes more sense but he¡¯s a very, very dangerous man. He likes you, despite his actions. And his...bodyguard has taken a liking to you as well. I wager you¡¯ll meet more comrades, just as strange on your little task for our beloved Queen, Goddess and Kingdom. Here, take his gifts. He...connected them to you personally and I don¡¯t want to risk my hands melting off. It wouldn¡¯t kill me but it would hurt and sometimes that enough.¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    As the carriage came to a halt Cris was tempted to look outside the closed curtained window as he heard voices beginning to shout as there was a sudden jolt on top of the carriage. More shouting and a clash of weapons rang out but he was unable to see any of it. Then he heard the motion of crossbows being fired and even more soldiers shouting out.

    Lady Joanne removed her silken mask from her face to reveal that of an older woman, closer to a grandmother in age which combined with her shortened colourless white thinner hair would make her a case of an older noble lady combined with her clothing.

    Her skin had turned into a darker tan and her face showed crease lines around her eyes. Both of her eyes had turned into a pale brown iris, close to a light green.

    Opening the small wooden chest sitting on her lap she unclasped it and revealed the leather backpack and arm brace containing the twin knives which had been gifted to him by the construct Ren on the words of Maxton Ge.

    With no hesitation he snatched both of them out of the box and with one smooth motion opened the backpack to see the same empty containers inside before he strapped the leather bracer to his upper arm and withdrew one, fitting it behind him where he had his previous white blade stored.

    A cry of pain rang out followed by the sound of metal clattering to the ground outside as another followed, then another cry of pain until Cris was certain he had heard at least five echoes of metal falling to the floor. The side door of the carriage was hit hard but it only shook before it was hit again.

    Cris put one hand on the knife behind him, preparing his aura to detect the fighting outside. If this was another attack by cultists or anyone else he¡¯d be able to make out their presence. He had enough energy left for one quick burst before he was relatively empty.

    ¡®Lady Dee Mawr. Is this another test for me? Did you arrange for cultists to fight again or hire mercenaries to fight your own guards?¡¯ said Cris.

    The side door of the carriage shifted again as it was hit, the curtains within shaking. This time the woman sitting opposite him, crossed her legs and interlaced her fingers as she leaned forward. Her appearance of a grandmother was at odds with her voice as it remained that of a young women in her early twenties at most.

    ¡®To catch an assassin you need bait. Especially when you take his own adopted grandson from him. Cris, say hello to the true Alessandro. You can come in now old man. You took longer than I thought although I must say that impersonating my driver, getting the daily cipher out of him was a good trick. I hope you left him alive.¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    The side carriage door was ripped open and a man hardly breathing heavily opened it. His creased face and short grey hair was flushed red with anger and he held a twin set of stiletto knives, one in each hand along with a bandolier of matching knives across the front of his chest. His clothing was a mix of grey and brown wrapped material around his entire body with a matching hood pulled down revealing his face.

    All of the weapons had been purposefully matched the same colour and if Cris hadn¡¯t been looking closely he wouldn¡¯t have detected them. A broken off arrow was stuck out of one shoulder but the old man didn¡¯t pay it any attention. A tiny trickle of blood ran down from the side of his mouth as he took in a deep breath.

    Behind him Cris saw the moving bodies of at least five armed guards, their swords lay next to them but all of them lay crumpled on the ground on their sides. There was a faint smell in the air of blood and another mixture.

    Alessandro took a look at the knife that Cris was holding and snorted as he gave a bright smile and sniffed the air a couple of times as he wiped the blood from his mouth away roughly with a sleeve.

    With a movement fast enough that Cris couldn¡¯t pick up on it he sheathed both knives in two empty spaces in the bandolier across his chest before he spoke turning his attention to Lady Joanne and then to Cris in turn.

    ¡®Your father would have been pleased. The ones he gifted to you were poisoned just enough to make you sick for a day or so, and you choose to handle more poisoned ones. Much higher quality than I¡¯ve seen for a long time but I recognise the design. From the Empire, interesting. Spymistress Dee Mawr, you will release my idiotic grandson from this game of yours. Cristiano, I¡¯ve taken care of the local guards here but knowing this woman she¡¯ll have backups hidden for her backups. You¡¯re welcome for taking care of the cultists armed with crossbows by the way, the Queen¡¯s Guard aren¡¯t as through as they like to make themselves as. Old woman, you¡¯re not my type. All of your agents are alive but in pain. It¡¯ll pass in an hour. Change face all you want. Doesn¡¯t work on me. Cristiano, stop staring and get out of that carriage this instant! We need to leave. Now!¡¯ said Alessandro.

 Book 1 Ch 14: Poisoned Pride

    Cris wasn¡¯t quite clear on the actions going on. For him Alessandro has been the lone guard who had decided to abandon his post and escort his mother across miles of wilderness with an accompanying caravan until they had reached the kingdom of Nurburg. According to the stories told to him by his mother and Alessandro only in passing conversation, she had been protected by the old man from various threats along the way.

    Even dealing with those trained guards inside the caravan who had either coveted his young mother, barely out of her teens, or the wealth that carried as an ex-noble from her homeland city state. When Cris has asked the old man, he had just replied that he had two things, training and will. The eyes of some people revealed if they truly wanted to fight or wanted to run.

    All he really knew about Alessandro was that he had been banished from the same home city his mother hailed from due to a duel gone wrong, he had been responsible for the death of one of the leading young nobleman who belonged to an important family.

    The rest of his past he had always refused to answer. Whether he had been married once or had a family, Cris knew nothing about it. So, for him to turn out to be an assassin of some kind was shaping out his day to be an even more unusual turn of events. He half expected his life to be a lie by this point, as though those in power had decided to shape how he lived and what he chose.

    All he could respond with was a single word when he was told by his butler, the Head Servant of his minor, obscure noble house who presently had a broken arrow shaft sticking out of his shoulder and had just wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth.

    The soldiers lying behind him clutching a part of their bodies and the swords they had dropped on the floor was another consideration, so was the now old faced woman who was casually leaning against her seat in the carriage without a care in the world. Her entire posture and body movement showed the flexibility of a younger woman. She gave him a toothy smile with older teeth with a touch of decay.

    ¡®Young Master Cifesboren. Meet Alessandro Malipierro, a former assassin of quite some renown in your mother¡¯s homeland before he...vanished one day. A shame really, he was in high demand. The fact they never found a corpse made his legend grow even further. I would say that he¡¯s aged like fine wine.¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    Alessandro ignored the woman as he reached out an outstretched hand to Cris gesturing for him to take it.

    The moans of the soldiers in the area beyond echoed in the courtyard, there was a large stone building, plain but strong with a single set of large wooden doors. It looked no different than any other structure aside from a flag indicating the presence of the Queen¡¯s Guard hanging on a flagpole on the roof.

    The horses in front of the carriage and kicked their hooves on the smooth paving which made up the flooring of the courtyard. There was the sound of sudden footsteps as a young voice of a teenage girl called out to the carriage.

    ¡®Ma¡¯am, is the training session finished with? The horses will need to be watered and taken to the stables. Me and Hubert are meant to take them to the stables and give them water and a brush down. They¡¯re trained Ma¡¯am but the noise of the guards still bothers them a little.¡¯

    Cris took the outstretched hand of Alessandro which gripped hold of his forearm before pulling him out of the carriage and behind him shielding his body.

    He saw a young girl with short cropped cut brown hair and eyes wearing a plain light brown tunic, leggings and matching brown shoes. Next to her was a boy of almost similar age and outfit except for the fact that he had darker hair and a pair of reddish boots with scuff marks.

    The girl was tall for her age, close to the height of Cris but thinner while the boy was stouter and thicker but not fat. One was holding a bucket and the other a horse brush attached to one hand. Holding both hands up in a gesture of peace he turned towards Cris and flicked his eyes towards the open door of the carriage before be turned and gave a polite bow to the two young horse grooms.

    ¡®Child, this is a dangerous place. You and your friend need to leave, but first tell me, do you have any fresh horses in your stables? You seem like you both love horses. They are lovely animals.¡¯ said Alessandro.

    His demeanour had changed and although his posture was alert he had changed his tone of voice to his more formal one of a Head Servant and Butler of a noble. His back was straight and if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that he was armed, dressed in an unusual outfit with an arrow shaft sticking out of his shoulder Cris would have placed him as an acting manservant.

    ¡®Ma¡¯am? Are you still in the carriage? We want to take the horses to the stable. Do you work for the Lady misters? She¡¯s a good person. Sometimes people think she¡¯d bad but she¡¯d a good person. She saved us. Hubert, you go and take one of the horses to the stable. I¡¯m thinking we can go ahead and do it. The training session isn¡¯t finished yet, we¡¯ll be in the way. Excuse us Misters.¡¯ said the young girl as she pulled on the boy¡¯s sleeve and moved to the front of the carriage to attend to the horses.

    The door to the carriage on the side of Lady Joanne swung open and she took a small careful step out, holding onto the frame as though to steady herself. Ignoring the look that Alessandro and Cris both gave her she walked to the front with small steady steps and spoke to the two young horse grooms.

    ¡®Ah, Herbert and Gisela. How are my two favourite horse grooms today? I¡¯m afraid that the training session is still ongoing for a little bit longer. If you could both please take the horses back to the stables, feed and water them and brush them down I¡¯d much appreciate that. I¡¯ve left a few baskets of uneaten food and drink fresh from the merchants inside the carriage if you¡¯d like to finish them up or share it with your friends. I¡¯d advise giving a basket to the Stable Master but if make sure that you tell them that it was my decision to share them. I¡¯ll be checking, off with both of you then. You can leave the carriage where it is for now. I¡¯ll ask inside for it to be moved later. Go on then, off with both of you.¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    With a shooing gesture and a wink the two teenage horse grooms, went to the horses at the front of the carriage, unharnessed them and led both horses off to stables on a separate side to the large building. Alessandro kept a careful eye on the movements of the two as he grabbed Cris under his arm and pulled him close whispering in his ear.

    ¡®Cristiano, do not trust this woman. We can leave right now and I¡¯m sure you have questions, you always did, but believe me don¡¯t trust her. If you choose to stay I will respect your choice. I scouted briefly, others are inside the building. Dangerous types. I have my own methods of detection.¡¯

    Lady Joanne with her old face and white hair devoid of colour straightened her back and strolled back to the outside of the carriage shrugging her shoulders before she pointed at the entry gate consisting of two towers and a portcullis, there was a single guard on duty holding a crossbow at the ready but he hadn¡¯t made any further movement in their direction. Cris was certain that he saw a glint of metal in the sun of the morning in one of the towers but when he tried looking again it was gone. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡®As you can see, we have additional support in case of any...unwelcome attention.¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    She held up a hand and made a gesture similar to the ones that Cris had seen Agnes make earlier, similar but different as though messier. The distinction was harder to make out in his mind. Despite his physical and spiritual exhaustion his aura senses activated as he was trained as he was able to make out a number of hidden soldiers in the towers. It would explain how his Head Servant Alessandro ended up with an arrow bolt in his arm.

    Despite the time spent, the old man showed little or no discomfort with it. His face showed no signs of pain and he moved his body fluidly.

    Likely, the strange coloured outfit had given him better protection than would Cris¡¯s old, worn and frankly smelly noble clothing. He¡¯d been wearing the same outfit since last night but nobody had yet to tell him that he¡¯d smelled bad.

    One of the benefits of Light and Purity Magic, shame it doesn¡¯t clean them. He thought to himself.

    ¡®Done. I¡¯m assuming my guards are simply incapacitated and not at serious risk of death. I wouldn¡¯t expect much less from your past reputation. I did a little research even if it did take me a few months to get a reply. Don¡¯t fret you mature man, I always keep an eye out for the truly dangerous ones and given the necessity of protecting our Queen I need to observe any and all possible threats to her safety or that of the King Consort.¡¯

    Neither Alessandro or Cris made a sound but the older man did put one covered hand on the arrow shaft on his shoulder and tightened his teeth as he pulled it out and dropped in on the floor. Cris noticed that the wound was fairly clean and no blood ran out which surprised him. The broken arrow shaft had been deep enough in his arm but lying on the floor the tip of it was wrapped with pieces of material and barely any flesh or blood. The old man seeing that Cris was paying attention to him simply patted him on the shoulder and gave him a light squeeze before he smiled.

    His creased features showed more than enough emotion. Despite his earlier demand and then warning, Cris hadn¡¯t seen any reason to leave the vicinity of this courtyard. In case they were going to be rushed by a large group of soldiers who happened to be hidden in the building or the direction of the stables, he flared out his light aura and immediately wished he hadn¡¯t as a blankness covered his eyes for the barest second as he experienced feedback.

    The gifts of the Goddess Aliza were powerful but nothing magical had ever been used for free. He blinked his eyes and noted that he had detected no other hidden soldiers but there had been two marks of semi-deep corruption in the direction that the horses had been led in. Animals in general withstood any forces of corruption or light and purity magic but could be harmed through it, as they lacked sentient souls they had little to fear.

    Those two. They were corrupted, far worse than they seem. They need to be taken to the Asylum or see a priest but even that could be too late. Not long until they begin to change.

    ¡®Gentleman, I¡¯ve done nothing wrong. Alessandro, I even rescued your adopted grandson from a group of well-hidden cultists late last night and early this morning. The Queen¡¯s Guard assisted of course, as did a few...agents and guest of mine but he did remarkably well holding out in a bad situation. Not that he was in any physical confrontation, you did a decent job in training him, however subtle that it was. He does tend to want to know the answers to a great number of questions. All of which I¡¯m happy to...happy...Master Cifesboren. Your face remains an open book to all who see it and your emotions are worn as freely as that particular leather bracer with the blades on your arm. I know. The rest of my guards remain corruption free but those two young ones are not. I want to give them a sense of normalcy until they need to make the trip to the Asylum. I work for and follow the decrees of both our Queen and the Goddess alike. I promise they will attend there but not yet, not just yet. I think I¡¯ve given enough, why don¡¯t the both of you come with me, eat, drink have a change of clothes, have that wound seen to and I can explain the situation. I promise no threats or danger are waiting inside unless you choose to visit violence upon myself, my agents or my guests. Well?¡¯ said Lady Joanne as she folded her arms and straightened her own posture.

    She gave the impression of a strict teacher talking down to her students and reminded Cris of his time in the Academy, even a week ago he¡¯d been occasionally given a dressing down for being late or chatting in his classes.

    The hand of old man Alessandro holding onto his shoulder gave him another squeeze as he shook his head from side to side.

    ¡®No, you don¡¯t get to decide for me. Believe me Alessandro, I will have words with you later about this. Grandfather. Tell me, does everyone in the household know? The maids, the cook? You have no idea what I¡¯ve gone through. I¡¯m exhausted and want to simply rest, but at least this woman gave me a choice earlier. You may not trust her but I¡¯m armed now and she¡¯d done nothing to threaten me personally. I left the Academy behind, what else have I got in this city? Don¡¯t pretend my mother takes any interest in me. Lady Joanne, thank you for your offer and my...Head Servant and I will take you up on it. Please, lead the way inside. I need a change of clothes and a quick wash first.¡¯ said Cris as he shook the old man¡¯s hand on his shoulder off and began to walk towards the lone single building in the centre of the courtyard.

    He ignored the cries of pain from the guards lying on the floor and stepped over one of the swords dropped on the floor as he made his way to the twin wood door entrance. When he arrived at both doors, he pushed them open with a creak to be greeted with a familiar face.

    The construct Ren was wearing an expensive embroidered golden robe with dragon patterns and patterns of lines in strange orders. The clothing was baggy enough to disguise its physical appearance although the face remained the same. Then it clasped two baggy sleeves together and gave a small bow to Cris before speaking and standing completely straight.

    [Well done Young Master, you have won me a bet with Disease Master. He told me you would fight your way through the guards and I said you would use intelligence. Ah, welcome to your grandfather and the Catcher of Spies. Your hospitality has been deeply appreciated by this humble envoy from the Celestial Kingdom. Your map room and records of history in this region has made interesting reading. Your Dark Lord though was a little lacking in my opinion. He should have fought harder. A shame. Come Young Master, let me accompany you to the wash rooms. I have mapped this entire structure in my memory.]

    Cris considered how best to respond for a moment before he bowed as best as he could in return. The lessons of nobility and how he needed to behave in the presence of a higher noble had been embedded in his memory deeply from both Alessandro and the various tutors he had when he was younger. His actions appeared to please the construct who simply nodded and smiled.

    Before he was able to introduce Alessandro he had bowed deeper than Cris but showed no sign of surprise at the sight of the construct before he titled his head and spoke several words in the same lyrical language which Cris had heard Lady Joanne, Maxton Ge and Ren talk together. There was a meaning to the language, Cris identified several words which he had heard previously.

    A type of greeting obviously but why does Alessandro know them?

    Pausing the construct gave a sharp look at Lady Joanne before it shook its head and pointed at her and then at Alessandro before clasping hands together. The Spymistress simply shrugged her shoulders and took the arm of Alessandro as she made a motion for Cris and Ren to move forward while she pulled the older man back with a smile and quick words and gestures.

 Book 1 Ch 15: Professional Baker for Hire

    ¡®I appreciate the fact that you have enthusiasm to join my sortie today but I¡¯m not clear on bringing an innocent civilian along to her death. You¡¯ve told my assistants that you¡¯re a professional mercenary and¡­.is this right? Technically immortal? I¡¯m not quite sure how to take that. I see that you marked down your previous profession as a baker, although you clearly don¡¯t hail from my kingdom. I¡¯d wager you moved here or your parents before you were born? Never mind, the moment you settled here you became one of my subjects but all of this is besides the point. This might be the first time that we¡¯ve had a baker on a sortie, but I do need to ask how well trained you are. Did you receive previous militia training or have you been out on the walls with the expansion movement? I¡¯m afraid that their...opinion and my own don¡¯t see eye to eye but I can respect their love and effort for the kingdom.¡¯ said the King Consort Ulrich.

    After he had said his farewells to his wife, and he and his personal soldiers had shaken off the after-effects of her Goddess infused words he had made his way to one of the southern gates leading to the countryside beyond his capital city of Nurburg. The usual volunteers, hangers on and his own personal soldiers had arrived armed, prepared and the horse and carts needed to carry supplies, wounded or survivors for the vanguard had been prepared.

    He barely had to do any preparation these days aside from ask for assistance from his two bodyguard knights to dress him in his golden armour but they had already done so and it had been sufficiently blessed before he had left his own quarters and met his beloved for their date touring the walls.

    None of it meant that he would neglect it though and he would need to check and re-check those who were going to join him, he had been the son of a lower tier noble but his own mother had taught him the value of being thorough before they had both lost their lives at the end of the war against the Dark Lord from his final revenge.

    ¡®Hello? You asked to join my...are you inspecting my soldiers?¡¯ said King Consort Ulrich.

    Her appearance clearly marked her as being from a foreign land, long black hair and eyes and pale skin but her accent told him that she had been born and raised in the city. Not a noble but the fact that she had been able to read the recruitment posters and write her own name meant she had some degree of education. Those who worked as merchants or shopkeepers usually did but not many wanted to personally risk their own lives for a sortie even surrounded by experienced soldiers, priestesses, priests and the occasional warrior monk. When he was concerned for the safety of volunteers, the King would secure a few worthy from the Mercenary Guild.

    As far as he knew there was no such woman amongst their ranks, he would have either heard of her prowess or ability given that the rankings shifted so fast depending on the skill level. Presently she was showing a degree of tactical awareness which didn¡¯t match with her self-explanation as a baker turned professional mercenary. Her equipment was interesting to say the least, a mixture of half-pieced together metal armour cobbled along with a collection of rough and worn weapons which jangled from a belt around her waist.

    ¡®Yeah, you¡¯ve prepared better this time. I was right to die a few more times to get it right. Did you know that you¡¯re usually targetted by criminals who look for an easy payday by taking some of your supplies or switching them with lower-quality copies? This time they didn¡¯t manage to make the switch. I guess I made the correct choices this time round.¡¯ said the woman as she closely inspected one of his more experienced volunteers, an older noble with his two bodyguards who joined with his group a few years back.

    ¡®Excuse me your Majesty but is this a test or a joke on your behalf? It does liven things up a little. Eh, girls? You think she¡¯d hire on with my estate? I keep telling my family that they gots to look out for the strange ones. The ones with hidden abilities. You don¡¯t want her your Majesty then I¡¯ll take her on. Young woman, who trained you? It¡¯s all in the eyes and you¡¯ve seen death before. I know those eyes. Not a natural killer but someone turned you into one.¡¯ said the old noble as he lifted both arms up and turned around as the women gently prodded him and carefully inspected his armour.

    Both of his bodyguards were dressed in long boots, leather armour with a long sword on a sheath and a small mace on the other side of their hips. Their hair was cropped short and one had a sharp scar on her face. They mostly looked amused at the antics of the young woman but kept a hand on their weapons to protect their employer.

    ¡®Why, I even found these two¡¯ said the old noble ¡®as I was wandering through the poorer quarters of the city, I found them protecting this rough inn see and I said to them. I said work for me and I¡¯ll pay you better and give you chances to see the world. Of course they were much younger at the time and this was before that terrible war which we managed to avoid being outside the kingdom at the time. Stuck to my promise though, eh girls? Eh? All done? Do I pass standard young madam?¡¯ said the old noble as he lowered his arms and placed them on his ample stomach.

    ¡®Ira, Tessa. He¡¯s honest with both of you as much as he can be. Do not trust his family though, if he dies, do not trust them and leave the city. Trust me on this.¡¯ said the young woman.

    The King Consort was heavily considering telling the woman to leave and stop playing games until she mentioned the names of the bodyguards of the old noble. How she knew them he had no clue, even the old man who had been familiar with his father once had been reluctant to share them with him personally.

    ¡®Conrad. Do you know this woman, how about you tell me the truth about how you encountered someone new and decided to liven things up a little?¡¯ said King Consort Ulrich.

    The old noble simply shook his head as his own worn chain mail armour jangled lightly.

    ¡®Never seen her before in my life. Pretty sure my two haven¡¯t seen her before either. They wouldn¡¯t let her. get this close though if she was a real threat. What¡¯s your name young lady?¡¯ said Conrad.

    The soldiers around the King Consort had been half-listening the conversation taking place and had steadily moved into a loose formation around the young woman in order to protect their monarch. The wagons had been fully prepared as they were ready to head out on a single word, there were usually a few odd ones who turned up and the crowds of city folk around the gate on the sides was enjoying the street drama as money changed hands through bets.

    ¡®Etsuko An¡¯Yu. You lot killed me once but I don¡¯t hold it against you. I just took the wrong approach, of course the two bodyguards over there killed me a few more times by accident until I was able to learn their names and a little about them. How about you soldiers get back to preparing your weapons and equipment until we¡¯re ready to go? Ah...how does it go again...got it.¡¯ the young woman bent down on one knee as she pushed her rough weapons to the side with one hand.

    ¡®¡­.I think we¡¯re beginning to waste enough time on the words of a single person who has unjustly suffered trauma. Please, I¡¯m not the Queen nor the Goddess. I work for a living after all or I don¡¯t receive my monthly allowance! Conrad, why don¡¯t you take your bodyguards and head to the gate first?¡¯ said King Consort Ulric.

    He received a chuckle from the soldiers around him as the pressure and tension in the air lessened. The old noble along with his two bodyguards went ahead as one of them smiled at the young woman who remained knelt on one knee. King Ulrich decided to ignore her for the moment, if she was eager enough to fight or touched in the head she would be willing to wait a little longer. With luck she¡¯d lose interest and leave of her own accord.

    ¡®We head out in fifteen minutes. I¡¯ll try not to be killed by a lone assassin, soldiers and volunteers prepare yourself for our usual excursion beyond the walls. Those of you who are new to this, it¡¯s no shame to be scared or have misgivings. Anyone who chooses to leave and try again is welcome to do so! There is no shame in wanting to live or fear of injury! I repeat, nobody will look down on you if you choose to leave!¡¯ said the King Consort. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Given not a single one of the volunteers or his own soldiers took a step made King Ulrich smile with relief. The numbers had begun to lessen over time and he was grateful for those who stayed with him.

    ¡®Fine. We prepare to leave. Go into your pre-assigned groups and someone tell the guards to open the first part of the gates. Those in front will take their positions in case of sneak attack, I don¡¯t expect it but we need to stick to established protocol. No casualties straight out of the gates.¡¯ said King Ulrich.

    One of the priestesses had prayed to the Goddess and checked the woman after she had arrived along with every volunteer as was standard. The number of cultists who still believed in the revival of the Dark Lord and how the magical infection was designed to bring them all to an afterlife of his own design had significantly dropped as progress had been made through the powers of the Church.

    The priestess had found no significant changes changes to her being but had reported that the woman''s aura was strange but nothing else. Apparently the strange woman had no magical abilities to name aside from an odd story which she had ignored.

    ¡®The woman is pure...she has no traces of corruption or any hidden weapons or threats that we can detect. Your own soldiers checked her belongings but she has a presence about her that I would warn your Majesty to be aware of.¡¯ said the Priestess who had been assigned to his forces on a temporary basis when she had inspected every single one of his small band of troops, volunteers and support workers when they had arrived at the southern gate.

    He turned his attention to the gatehouse itself and the series of portcullises, drawbridges and massive gates which led outside of the city. It would take an army to break through but they had been fortunate that the evil hordes of the Dark Lord had been defeated in battle. The corrupted on the other hand were a different matter.

    The southern gate was heavily guarded and had been even more warded than the walls but the presence of the Goddess had been slowly whittling down the effect of the magical infection and even the average citizen realised that it was only a matter of time until they could mount a true attack on the final stronghold of the deceased Dark Lord and eliminate the source of the corruption. The true facts behind it had been carefully hidden by the Church of Purity but it was believed to be an artefact of significant power with a degree of sentience whose only purpose was to corrupt every single living being inside the kingdom and turn them into unthinking monsters of its own design for an unknown purpose.

    The King Consort had attended enough debates at the Academy of Purity and heard plenty of theories but he had left the final matter to his wife in her role as both ruling monarch of the kingdom and head of their remaining religion.

    The weather today was turning better if a bit cloudy, the land had always lent itself to rain, storms and cloud and the occasional sunny days were seen as divine blessings from the Goddess herself. By this point, it had become a matter of routine although crowds always turned up to cheer or place bets on who would return and who would be injured or killed. The King Consort had always tried his best to mitigate casualties but when he was dealing with semi-professionals or entirely untrained it became a different matter entirely.

    After the first few times both those enthusiastic citizens and minor nobles who had been hoping to gain his favour, personal glory through martial affairs or other opportunities had realised that there was danger involved. The same soldiers who had stayed with him for at least ten years and survived had grown more experienced and the actual sortie was a more controlled event.

    This close to the city walls, the main threat was no longer from corrupted but from those who wanted to take advantage of farmers, merchants and those of the towns and villages outside who practised other professions such as blacksmithing or crafting.

    King Ulrich had never made vast promises, he simply had stated initially that he wanted to become involved in beating back the magical corruption that had infested his kingdom and caused the majority of the surviving population after the war finally ended against the Dark Lord to end up in the sole designated capital city. The Kingdom had never been prosperous enough even before the war to sustain anything other than a series of towns and surrounding villages. The mountainous and rough terrain made it harder to grow crops and raise livestock as it was.

    A polite cough from one of his trusted and true soldiers drew him back to his present situation. The rest of his soldiers, a few minor nobles along with the occasional warrior monk and priests and priestess appointed to his group by his wife to ensure the relative safety of their literal souls and physical forms had already prepared the necessary equipment and running through how this sortie was going to span out.

    The woman had remained knelt down with her head bowed and not uttered a single word of complaint or even tried to approach anyone else there. The waiting crowds around the gate were beginning to discuss likely what action the King Consort would decide to take. A new member of their small troop was a rare occurrence these days as the same actions had become boring and stale over time but still appreciated by the city. There was those who watched it as a form of entertainment and routine and anything new would spread talk throughout.

    ¡®Your Majesty...you agreed once to accept any who volunteered. Do you remember a young boy who wanted to prove himself after he was abandoned on the streets? He was a half-starved boy with a broken knife but you accepted him as your soldiers. The kingdom offers opportunity for those who fail to resound with the powers of the Goddess. Are these words not true today? Even those who have been damaged in the mind hold value, let her come with us your Majesty. I will protect her personally.¡¯ said Sergeant Reinhard.

    The man had hardened but been always been an average soldier at best, the fact that he had survived the first months had been a shock as had the years that followed. He was a steady presence which King Consort Ulrich was grateful for as it kept him grounded in the day to day affairs of his kingdom.

    He lacked the political, religious and martial power that most would have for his title but he had married into his wife¡¯s line of succession even if it had been a tragic affair when her family, cousins, aunts and uncles had died during the initial final revenge of the Dark Lord. There were those higher tier nobles who mocked him for his actions and called him an ageing fool, he¡¯d never seen the value of the six Lords and Ladies who governed the Kingdom along with his Queen but this was his passion, his project and he¡¯d continue it until he was no longer physically able to or the threat of corruption was finally ended.

    ¡®Sergeant, you will assign this woman to a position in the middle and protect her as though she was the Goddess Aliza herself. I¡¯m not sure quite sure what she means by technically immortal but she can explain it for us briefly. Another soldier with remarkable powers would be appreciated and our main aim is to go outside these walls, make it a little safer at our designated point and try to keep everyone alive, relatively uninjured and return.¡¯ said the King Consort Ulrich as he watched the old noble Conrad and the few forward troops prepare to go through the first gate as it was opened and a portcullis was drawn up. The young woman who had knelt on one knee looked up and smiled at Sergeant Richter as she rose from her feet and stretched out her body.

    ¡®Thanks. If that didn¡¯t work I was going to say that Lars Kroemer sent me here on a contract. He wants to establish better connections with farmers and this would make a good impression for future negotiations. You¡¯re my favourite man Sergeant, after all you haven¡¯t killed me yet. Did I tell you that I was technically immortal? Also, I need to be paid as a mercenary for this. My bakery burnt down this morning. I said no to a couple of greedy thugs.¡¯

    The woman took her position next to the Sergeant as the waiting crowds which had grown with the appearance of the seemingly strange woman, partly due to her antics but also the fact that she was entirely dressed in a bakers apron, rough black boots and covered in portions of flour and blackened patches. They gave a cheer as she gave them a wave as moved forward to the southern gate to wait her turn to enter the countryside on the sortie with the King Consort and his group.

    King Ulric simply shook his head and raised both arms and joined with the cheering as he prepared to protect the wagons at the rear. It hadn¡¯t worked out cost effective to equip the soldiers with horses every time they went out so all of them were prepared for a decent walk.

    ¡®TO THE GOLDEN SORTIE! THANKS FOR ATTENDING!¡¯ shouted King Ulric as he gave his usual flourish.

    Time to kill some bandits. The usual. Except for a madwoman to make it interesting.

    Unless she was telling the truth. Or one of the lost gods of the kingdom had decided to return.

    He hoped so. Anything to free his wife from her chains of faith.

 Book 1 Ch 16: Robed, Armed and Rested

    The entranceway was mostly bare aside from the usual painted and copied images of both the Queen and the Goddess Aliza displayed. There was a plain wooden floor worn and used with doors branching off in each directions. The ceiling was high and illuminated by alchemical lights but there were also windows high enough off that although letting light in they were inaccessible.

    Inside the large stone building had been a number of similarly dressed servants largely rushing around. Ren had stood idle as Cris watched their actions as they appeared from one doorway and swiftly made their way into another carrying nondescript leather satchels.

    As soon as they had entered the construct simply stopped moving. He didn¡¯t breath or even slow down, he simply stopped as though he was a statue. Cris observed that the weapons that the construct had been holding were no longer in its hand and the appearance had also changed.

    Previously, it had been noticeably garbed in armour, this time it was covered by a long golden robe with various intricate patterns of dragons intertwined. The sleeves were baggy and the outfit was closer to a dress than the robes that he had seen priests wear and wore himself for a time.

    There were markings on it, Cris was reasonably educated and although his position had been as a minor noble Alessandro had paid for tutors to bring his level of understanding about the world to a decent standard. That had been how he had passed the entrance tests for the Academy of Light, along with his natural affinity and negative disposition towards corruption magic.

    [Young Master. When we are a guest in a foreign land inside a person of sufficient high standard is it not best to show our mutual respect and understanding? We should wait a moment in case a servant arrives to show us. Or I am able to direct you personally, as I have said, I have mapped the main accessible public areas of this building.] said the construct Ren.

    Cris had decided to keep his weapons prepared, just in case there were any more tricks. He placed his hand on the leather bracer to reassure himself. Despite being in a position of relative safety, the last night and morning had given him a reason to be cautious. His mind and soul remained blurry and he was mostly exhausted. He knew that his combat training wasn¡¯t as good as a seasoned warrior priest but it simply felt better this way.

    Wait. I left them. Alessandro. The bolt in his arm. I never treated him. Or assisted him. I left him without thinking.

    Pausing in his footsteps Cris recalled the cries of pain from the guards who had been left on the cobblestones in the courtyard. The injury of his Head Servant who had once been an assassin. He was an ex-trainee priest in truth but duty died hard and the Goddess Aliza tasked all to help those in need within the Kingdom. His own magic was sufficient for detection and boosting those corrupted but even a little healing was possible. His body and soul ached but he would make an effort to help to help them.

    ¡®Ren. Those guards outside. Were they treated?¡¯ asked Cris.

    The guards outside the building had had either been wounded or poisoned by Alessandro. The one with the crossbows in the tower gate entrance into the compound were another matter. The same for the two young ones who took the horses away.

    He could not care for everyone but the training from the Academy remained deep in him, despite his status as a failed student. The construct would have come across as a statue which had been clothed for all it¡¯s animation as it had ushered Cris into the entranceway of the building.They appeared as though dressed as clerks or record keepers and Cris was able to notice the detail that none of them were heavily armed nor armoured except for a standard small dagger marked with the same sigil from the coach.

    A hood covered their faces and the clothing was baggy enough that Cris was unable to tell if they were male of female from outside appearance alone. He supposed that the most important person besides from the Queen and King Consort would prefer to have her followers work incognito. Most in the city carried a weapon but it was usually regulated by the Queen¡¯s Guard. A dagger was expected for most those as a form of self-defence, as long as it was kept to a certain length and plainly visible in open sight.

    Possession of concealed weapons often held a larger penalty. Only the nobility and registered armed guards of merchants and other providers in the city were able to be openly armed with a single weapon at most along with the mandatory small dagger.That had been the main reason the Church of Purity encouraged its trainees and priests, aside from warrior monks to carry daggers made of white metal. Regardless of his own thoughts they rushed around carrying folders or boxes from room to room.

    Preparation. But what is it for? Warfare?

    No. The King has his regular sorties already. For the mission she suggested.

    I¡¯ll find out soon enough.

    Several of the figures paused when he continued to observe them as though waiting for silent instructions but Cris made a point of ignoring them. At the least he remained minor nobility and even an ex-student of the academy would demand a basic level of respect.

    ¡®Carry on with your work. Your Mistress remains outside and has said that we are guests to be welcomed in her domain. I repeat, carry on with your work. I have no questions nor needs at this time.¡¯ said Cris when a larger robed one stopped in its footsteps and hunched over paused without moving forward.

    Cris pondered what would happen if he decided to interrupt one of them and demand to know what their work entailed. He had been instructed by the woman that she would give him an opportunity to save the kingdom, a mission of such importance that without it the entirely of the realm would be destroyed. Cris had been expecting answers, not more questions which he hadn¡¯t been asking for. A movement behind him and a painted stone hand placed upon his shoulder in reassurance reminded him that he wasn¡¯t alone in this mission.

    [Leave them to their work. I have seen their kind before. They are as insects responding to the orders of a larger insect. We have the same in our own Celestial Empire.] said Ren.

    At least one of the new people he had met had been friendly, the construct hadn¡¯t asked him for anything in return and even forcefully punished the man with the title called Disease Master for hurting him however temporarily.

    ¡®Ren. Does this mean that Maxton Ge is here as well? I¡¯ve have had an...interesting talk on the way here and to be clear I need to wash up, rest and eat and finally relieve myself.

    Taking a breath of air would be a precious treasure at this point. Wait. Do you even breath? Sorry, I never asked but since last night it¡¯s been a confusing turn of eve-¡¯. Said Cris before he was interrupted as the construct moved faster than he could track with his own magical senses or eyes and appeared in front of him with arms open.

    Before he was able to respond Ren spread out the golden dragon adorned robe and enclosed Cris in a hug pulling him in tight.

    The lightness of the motion was a contrast with the fact that the construct was entirely built of stone. Whomever had built the figure, designed and painted it and then imbued it with life must have been an extremely powerful sorceress or perhaps even a god.

    Cris was stressed he knew this. Both physically and emotionally he¡¯d been through more than enough. His head servant turning out to be an aged assassin of some renown had been enough but so had everything else. If he wasn¡¯t so tired he would had swore that he had been subject to a fever dream born of magical feedback and bad wine.

    He returned the hug in kind to Ren to find that the softness of the golden robe extracted an old memory deep within him, the sensation of being hugged was a long forgotten one.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.Not since his mother had left him when he had been young, not when she had decided to remarry to one of the nobles of the capital city.

    He squeezed his eyes tight and let his body relax as the hug continued from Ren. Given sympathy from a being who isn¡¯t even alive and apparently doesn¡¯t have a name. Surely a sign from the Goddess Aliza as a reward for my ordeals of faith.

    When they were familiar enough then Cris would ask of the origins of the construct which had both assisted and protected him but remained a mystery. Better for him to accept an ally who asked for nothing in return.

    ¡®Enough. Thank you Ren. I needed that in more ways that I can describe. You can let go of me now. My thanks.¡¯ said Cris as he released his arms and the robed construct did the same.

    The robed construct bowed and gestured towards the entranceway into the building.

    [Preparation for combat is a good habit but exhausting. I would suggest that you follow me Young Master Cristiano. This place has...hidden dangers for the unwary. I would not want you to enter one even by mistake. The Lady who owns this place owns her secrets well. As for Maxton Ge, he simply forgot his place. Forgive his...mistake. He will not touch you again without your express permission.]

    Cris bowed in return.

    ¡®Thank you Ren. I ask your own forgiveness in turn, but for one who isn¡¯t human you have understanding more than any made of flesh and bone like myself. Given your intricate clothing, you are clearly a noble of some standing in your own Celestial Empire as you called it. A bodyguard as well as a diplomat.¡¯ said Cris.

    Ren gestured to the robed figures as they entered and exited through the open doorways. To his eyes some of them carried plain satchels while others were empty handed. All of them were clearly armed with a dagger clipped onto the waist of their own robes.

    [Ignore them, they are sufficiently occupied with the task that their Mistress has given them that they will leave us well enough alone. Scribes in your tongue. The scribes are occupied. They will not fight us, not with me by your side. I repeat, this is a place of relative safety given the present state of your small kingdom.] said the construct Ren as he ushered Cris one of the open doorways seemingly at random with not a moment¡¯s hesitation.

    The sleeves of his golden robe were tucked together as he walked directly in front of Cris, continuing to ignore the robed scribes as they went around their business. Despite the appearance of his companion and his own lack of bathing and worn clothing none of them stopped to question where they went to.

    There were closed doors as they passed through several hallways where Cris heard conversations or doors that simply opened as a robed scribe left and closed too fast for him to notice the interior.

    Alchemical lights illuminated the hallways but there were no windows and the number of turns confused Cris as to his actual destination. Likely, he could have asked one of the robed figures but he had been asked not to disturb them and his own pride stopped him wanting to ask.

    Best to follow. Then we¡¯ll see where we end up. I''m too tired.

    The construct Ren began to increase pace and forced Cris to do as he followed it up a stairway and took too many turns for him to remember before it stopped in front of a door from which a fragrant smell and steam came from.

    There was a faint breeze coming from within the room, given the lack of windows and fresh air inside the building Cris welcomed it.

    When the construct stopped so did Cris as it turned its head side to side checking both sides of the empty corridor before it shook its head and pushed the partially open door open.

    [For your personal use only Young Master Cristiano. There are fresh clothes of a variety of styles, all in your size, boots and undergarments for you to change. Please dispose of your own clothing. I have been told that there are also priests garments for you wear if you would prefer. One moment please.] said Ren as it stood still without moving.

    Cris waited for what he experienced as several minutes in front of the open doorway as the scent of freshly filled water filled his nostrils. There was no trace of the earlier scent which the Spy Mistress has used on him to lull him into sleep.

    His body, mind and soul were fatigued enough by this point that all he needed was a chance to wash, rest and relieve himself. A little bit of privacy and the space to collect his thoughts would be even better. The door itself was entirely unadorned as were the rest in this place.

    If this was actually the dwelling of a noble person there would have been paintings, artwork and other traces of taste along the walls and corridor. As far as he could tell, the main expense here had been the alchemical lights which had been attached to the ceiling in regular intervals.

    The cost of those was usually more than most could afford, they were safer than candles, or oil lamps but their main purpose was the minor blessing by the Goddess Aliza herself. They would simply ward off any traces of corruption purposeful or otherwise but needed to be refilled by a priest or priestess paid per light.

    More expensive than a minor noble such as myself could afford on such a scale. Unless Lady Joanne Dee Mawr receives a discount on services. Lucrative business.

    His magical energy remained drained and by this point Cris no longer cared about having to check for threats to either himself or the construct. His legs were beginning to ache and he himself was beginning to feel foolish for standing in front of a guest room prepared for him which he was unable to enter.

    He hoped that there were no servants inside the room to take care of his bathing needs or to assist him with dressing. In his own minor noble house had had refused it once he had grown old enough to dress himself.

    Nor was he in the mood to relieve any physical tension and if he found anyone else in the room he would dismiss them immediately. To take on a role in saving the kingdom as the Spy Mistress had requested of him wasn¡¯t going to be a straightforward affair and he had been lectured on the fate of those priests and priestesses who strayed from the path.

    Relationships were actively encouraged as part of a healthy lifestyle, he had dallied a little when he had been training in the academy but emotional blackmail wasn¡¯t acceptable.

    Finally, as he felt his legs and body were going to give way beneath him and the thought of bathing in cold water crossed his mind the construct turned around to face him and bowed.

    If he didn¡¯t know better, he would have thought that the artificial being was either receiving orders or communicating. There had been no magical traces, his own weakened senses would have at least given him a vague impression of that.

    [Young Master Cristiano, you will take your time to prepare your physical self and I will stand guard over this doorway. None but myself will enter and only if you directly call me for help. As comrades we need to stand together. Do you need any additional weapons or armour? Minor authorisation has been granted for provision of standard boosted equipment.]

    Cris simply shook his head. Some of the words from the construct were strange to his ears, he understood them mostly but he put it down to a translation problem.

    ¡®No. I appreciate your previous gifts and will not be greedy to ask for more when you have freely given enough. As comrades we stand together. I have my faith in my Goddess as my armour and strength. If you are to join me with Maxton Ge, those augmented and others on our quest to save the kingdom from disaster then you should save what you can until we truly need it.¡¯ said Cris.

    [You are permitted to wash, rest and pray as you need. When you are prepared, open the door and I will accompany you to the others. Please. Enter. En. Enter. Mission confirmation in progress.] said the golden robed construct as it gestured with one swept arm for him to enter the room.

    As he did, the construct gently pulled it closed behind him with a solid click.

    Cris checked the door as he entered to find a strong bar which he dropped in place. He entered the room to find a large glass stained window from which the fresh breeze was coming from. Closing and securing it he did a quick check of the entire room, there was a separate bathing and toilet area and a changing screen along with a plain linen cloth bed with fresh bedsheets.

    A small oak wardrobe had been placed on the side of the bed and at the base of it was several pairs of boots and shoes. A jug of fresh water and a basket of fruits along with two sweet-meat breads had been placed on top of the wardrobe. None the items of clothing nor shoes were cheaply made but neither were they of the expensive quality. Just the type that a minor noble could afford who lived on a relatively small stipend. Someone just like Cris.

    Funny joke. Very funny.

    The curtains in front of the window had been pulled back and although Cris had roughly checked including under the bed in case there were any unwanted presences he still called out to make sure.

    ¡®Anyone watching can leave. Or I¡¯ll ask my brother-in-arms Ren to do a thorough search. Your Lady invited me here.¡¯ said Cris as he began to remove his present dirty and sweat stained clothing.

    His leather brace with twin knife blades he left until last, making sure it was within immediate reach.In this place he wouldn¡¯t be surprised if there secret passageways embedded in the walls criss-crossing this entire building. The Spy Mistress had her own plans but right now he was tired and needed a wash. Besides, he wasn¡¯t joking. He¡¯d pray to the Goddess after he cleaned up and rested a little. Cris began to take off his soiled clothing.

    I smell awful. I suppose Constructs have no sense of smell and the others were simply polite.

 Book 1 Ch 17: Bless the Foreign Heretics

    ¡®...the Queen and King Consort. Guide those lost to the safety of the Asylum and protect them from themselves and their kin. Blessings to this kingdom and all those who dwell within. Praise to the Goddess Aliza and her followers.¡¯ finished Cris with his fresh clothing as he lay on the bed.

    Prayers were accepted but the Goddess taught them that there was no need for ceremony in privacy. Only the action mattered.

    He had cleaned himself thoroughly, pouring the now soiled water down a large pipe to be disposed of. His clothing and boots were another matter, even his undergarments had simply been worn for too long and he had only been provided with a sufficient amount of water to clean himself.

    Despite his position as a minor noble, partially due to the lack of funds for additional servants and resources and the education of his Head Servant Alessandro and his refusal to raise a spoiled brat Cris had become largely self-sufficient in taking care of his own household duties.

    He had been raised to be largely prudent and not to make unnecessary waste. His frugality had largely amused the other nobles in the Academy but was respected by his tutors and the Head Mistress for not wasting his clothing, nor expecting servants to do the work for him.

    Sorry old man, can¡¯t clean my own clothing in this place. I¡¯ll be lazy just this once.

    Cris recalled that he still had an amount of noble scrip which had been handed back to him. After counting out an amount he placed it on top of the small oak wardrobe underneath the now empty bowl of fruit and sweet meat breads.

    If he¡¯d had the means to write and parchment then he¡¯d have written a personal thanks and apologised for leaving his worn and dirty clothes in a neat folded pile along with a pair of worn out boots.

    Either the Spy Mistress was a highly intelligent woman who kept tabs on him or she had simply asked the members of his household his favourite fruit and snacks but the taste had been exactly what he had always preferred.

    Cris had a sweet tooth on occasion but he preferred savoury style pastries. He¡¯d need to thank her for the consideration and to Ren as well for guarding his room. He¡¯d heard absolutely nothing, not a single knock on the door, not even the sound of movement.

    After he had rested and recovered a little, cleaned himself up, changed clothes and finally relieved his bowels with what light magic hadn¡¯t already removed he had tested his magical senses.

    At first only on his own body, then the bed, the room before stretching it to the door and outside the room. The sensation was uncomfortable but he hadn¡¯t detected any traces of corruption.

    The only odd part had been that there was a blankness outside of the room, directly by the front door. Normally, he¡¯d would be able to use his magical senses to identify if not a person than the outline of one. When he had tried to find Ren it had been as though there was nothing there.

    Either the foreign construct was extremely good at hiding its presence or it had moved away from the doorway. He understood that the pair had hidden powers which made little sense to him but clearly they had more tricks than he knew of and he didn¡¯t know much at all.

    Ignorance was never a sin.

    Giving the room a final check-over Cris decided to straighten the bed sheets and pillow cover before he cleaned up as best as he could. There was only so much he was willing to do, but he tried his best to leave the room in a presentable condition.

    He had been educated by Alessandro to treat others with respect and the old man had beaten the mindset into him enough times that it had become a habit. He knew his household servants thought it was strange but it was what it was.

    He dressed himself calmly, getting used to his new clothing, bright blue shirt with frills, red trousers and matching undergarments and blue socks with a pair of polished leather boots. A stylish combination which he hadn¡¯t considered for quite some time.

    Since he had joined the Academy, he had dropped any attempt at wearing fashionable outfits. In order to build both unity and a sense of belonging all students wore the same priest or priestess trainee robes or tunics, shirts and shoes. Individual styles of dress were discouraged.

    Haven¡¯t dressed like this for a few years.

    Cris appreciated the thought, his previous noble garb which had become worn and torn, and filthy with sweat was a usual affair. Enough to make it clear of his status but nothing that matched his youth.

    The last time he recalled caring about how he dressed had been when he had been close to twelve years old, shortly before he had been selected to join the Academy of Purity. He¡¯d been trying to impress a girl of a similar age at one of the few noble events which his minor house had been invited to.

    Alessandro had conjured up a similar outfit and complimented him. Cris had ended up being beaten up on the back steps by the older brothers of the girl who wanted him to back off and leave his foreign looks at the door.

    Blood doesn¡¯t wash out that easy.

    Trying to ignore the sensation of remembering a memory of six years ago Cris turned his back on the room and walked over the bolted door, sliding up the bar which had locked it and turned the handle hearing the same click.

    His mind and body were freshened up. Cris figured that at most he¡¯d been in the room cleaning up for an hour or two at the most including lying on the bed and tidying up.

    Not long enough to fully recover part of the damage done to his soul and body through his previous overdraw on light and purity magic but at least now he no longer felt like he was going to drop from sheer exhaustion.

    As soon as he had opened the door he saw the immediate back of the construct Ren and his golden robes. The words and actions of the artificial humanoid were odd at times.

    Not overly strange as Cris had been exposed to those who had been bathed in the powers of the Goddess Aliza for too long and heard enough rumours about the dangers of overdrawing of magical energies she provided.

    Those who behave like automatons. Creatures without free will or ego. Angels. The folly of old man and women.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    [Welcome Young Master, you appear refreshed and prepared. Are you prepared to meet the others? A minor reunion of sorts. Also, we have a special guest apparently from your place of religion. I believe you have seen him if not met him before. He is...interesting in my opinion. Most interesting. Come. I have kept all away from your room as agreed, not many were inclined to enter but I was able to disarm them by words not force. We are both guests in this house of the Lady who owns it. Shall we?]

    The construct gave a sweeping arm towards Cris and he was able to see the same empty corridor as before. There was an acrid smell which hadn¡¯t been there before though. Following his senses Cris noticed a clear burn mark on the golden style robe which showed painted flesh underneath.

    The construct showed no clear signs of discomfort or injury but he had showed Cris sufficient kindness that he was beginning to consider him as a friend and ally. They were both considered foreigners in their own ways and Cris would have felt bad if he didn¡¯t at least ask.

    The smell was familiar in a way and given how he had observed Maxton Ge consume a green liquid it was likely him, or one of the augmented who had wanted to see him. Agnes perhaps. Cris could see her try to force her way into his room to see him at all costs.

    Or he was just feeling sorry for himself. He had been trust into this situation against his will, but overthinking and politics had never been one of his strong points. Even as a minor noble he simply tried to effect his own status and responsibilities.

    ¡®Friend Ren, I sincerely thank you for your continued kindness for my own well-being. I need to ask though if you were hurt in your duties. Could I assist you in turn?¡¯ said Cris as he gestured towards the acrid burn mark on the robes of the construct.

    Given the spatial powers he had shown previously, Cris would not be surprised if he could simply make his golden robe disappear and a fresh one appear in its place. He wouldn¡¯t ask for more details. He simply patted the blades fixed in the leather strap on his arm to make his point clear.

    The construct simply smiled and ripped part of the golden robe letting it fall to the floor.

    [No matter. A simple disagreement. I said you would not be disturbed and I kept my word. Come, we have both had our own time to rest. There is work to be done. I would appreciate if you shared with me your own thoughts on your grandfather. He is a wise man, surprisingly well read and travelled. I believe he has visited border trading posts of the Celestial Empire. Minor places but for him to reach that far is an achievement for most in my opinion. Please, follow me.] said the construct as he turned around, stepped on the torn piece of golden robe and walked onwards.

    Leaving the tided up room behind them after closing the door Cris followed several turns and then met a different set of stairs heading down but this time there was no sign of the robed figured rushing between rooms who had been armed with daggers and parchment.

    Alchemical lights illuminated the corridors but there was neither sight nor sound of anyone. As they began walking down the stairs Cris heard the hint of raised voices, a disagreement or an argument was taking place. The voices ceased as he walked down, or rather the sound of them had simply been cut off.

    There was something about one of the voices, a bellowing sound which reminded him when he had been inside the Academy. When they had started the younger students had attended mandatory debates on the nature of gods, religion and the effects of power. The older students or tutorial priests and priestesses would lead discussions and expression of opinions within reason.

    There had been a larger number of gods once, not long enough ago to be forgotten but their presence had entirely dimmed and their temples and places of worship had become forgotten places except by those few meagre believers who remained. Or those who had foreign gods and beliefs.

    The teachings of the Goddess Aliza were simple, she had borrowed power from the other gods in order to counter the effects of corruption unleashed by the Dark Lord in one final act of revenge. They still existed but after boosting the Goddess Aliza they remained weak enough that they were unable to respond to prayer. There was no direct mandate through the Church of Purity that the Goddess was the only one to be worshipped, all faiths were to be treated equally in measure.

    The fact that most of the Kingdom of Nurburg had been overrun with corruption magic and only the capital city remained pure after the Goddess Aliza had appeared above one of the mountain temples directly in the form of a figure made of pure energy meant that most of the population had simply turned to her faith.

    Recalling his present situation, using his light senses Cris pushed outwards slowly at first and then boosting them as much as he dared. His weakened soul couldn¡¯t take much at the moment. Either a side effect of the number of treated alchemical light sources in the building or it had been reinforced by a large number of priests but there was the barest traces of corruption inside this place.

    There was something blocking him directly from using his magical senses inside this place. A will simply stronger and more experienced than his own, as though comparing a single candle to a fully lit chandelier.

    For all he could channel the abilities of the Goddess Aliza, Cris was honest with himself that his own powers he could harness were limited and meagre at best. But not all trainee priests were born with innate gifts and faith, effort and the ability to make decisions to help those in need was also a factor.

    Following Ren down the stairs Cris gave up on trying to use his light and purity magic as he still needed more time to allow the damage he had caused to himself trying to punish Maxton Ge back in the sewers to recover sufficiently.

    Weak. Even as a trainee priest, my faith is strong but my magic is weak.

    He decided to ignore the familiar voice in favour of increasing his pace to catch up with the golden robed construct. The tone of it nagged at him, debates and all. But there had been one lecturer priest in particular, one with sufficiently strong views.

    Lost in his own thoughts although he was far better off than he had been inside the coach trip after having time to clean himself up, and pray a little Cris almost slammed face first into the construct Ren as it immediately stopped without a single moment¡¯s hesitation.

    The golden robed figure with the torn patch placed two hands on a pair of large wooden doors and shoved them open with sufficient strength sending them crashing backwards so they almost broke off the hinges.

    Then it turned sideways and gestured for Cris to enter. As he walked past, Cris saw that the attention of the construct wasn¡¯t on him but it had turned its entire head and neck to an odd angle and was simply looking past him down the hallway.

    Always vigilant. I can see why Maxton Ge called Ren a bodyguard. But he still got beaten and physically punished for touching me. Odd.

    Inside the room Cris heard voices, several in clear argument and tones which took him back to his studying days when both teachers and lecturers had led them in various debates and discussions on religion and protecting the just.

    [The man who is your grandfather holds hidden dept-] began Ren as it spoke to Cris even though its face and neck were facing an opposite direction before a booming, deep male voice rang out.

    A rotund man with a red face, bald entirely bald but with a beard that would put a wild man living on a mountain to shame stepped up with arms raised in greeting before he recognised Cris.

    He gave a bright beaming smile of perfectly whitened teeth before sucking in a deep breath, behind him expensive clothing of one of the High Priests fluttered behind in unseen winds as light and purity magic crackled wildly over his body and exposed skin.

    No. Not him. Anyone but him.

    ¡®BLESS THE FOREIGN HERETICS! ANOTHER VISITOR TO OUR FAIR KINGDOM! BLESS YOU FOR YOUR HEATHEN WAYS AND MAY THE GODDESS FORCE YOU TO HAVE FAITH IN HER! CRISTIANO! MY BOY, YOU KNOW THESE FOREIGN HERETICS! I AM NOT SURPRISED. WELCOME BOY! WELCOME TO MY LECTURE!¡¯

    High Priest Schmid. Great. My ears haven¡¯t recovered since last time.

    ¡®STOP STANDING THERE WITH YOUR GOLDEN FOREIGN STATUE AND GET IN HERE BOY. I HAVE A LECTURE TO GIVE AND YOUR OTHER FOREIGN HERETIC FRIEND WAS TELLING ME ABOUT ABOUT YOUR ADVENTURES TOGETHER. BLESS YOU ALL, BLESS THE FOREIGN HERETICS!¡¯

 Book 1 Ch 18: Aliza Lo Vult

    ¡®The Goddess...praise her for protecting this sacred Kingdom of ours, the Queen and the King Consort. We remain thankful for her protection and guidance during these...these...tryi-. I¡¯m sorry, does anyone else want to finish the pre-meeting prayer?¡¯ said the finely dressed rotund man as he stood at the head of the oaken table.

    The clothing he wore was rich and finely embroidered with traces of gold and silver, jewelled rings on his slim fingers and a crystal necklace with an image of a woman in a robe with outstretched arms.

    His face was flush as he waved a hand through the air as though wishing he could magic up a volunteer to take his immediate place.

    I tire of being place placed in this role. Fools, all of them.

    ¡®No? I shall continue then. These trying times will come to an end when the Goddess Aliza in her mercy and the taint of corruption in our midst shall vanish and our kingdom shall enter a new age of prosperity and profit for us all. May the Goddess protect us all!¡¯¡¯ finished the man as he finished gesturing.

    His other hand held a fine transparent glass of a purple liquid which had yet to spill despite his physical movement. On the table in front of him were six different metallic flagons each containing a different flavour and type of drink. Matching cups accompanied each flagon.

    Enchantments engraved on the glass flared lightly as the man half-dropped it onto the large oaken table before catching it and placing it upright.

    The liquid had yet to spill but the man had kept his attention entirely focused on the other five men and woman around the oaken table. They wore a variety of outfits, several with heavy makeup and one with outlandish fashion at least in his eyes.

    They all made the sign of the Goddess Aliza with one hand in unison before taking their seats. The finely dressed rotund man dropped back into his own cushioned chair with a loud thump as he let out a grunt.

    He reached forwards towards the transparent glass of purple liquid and touched a side as it lightly flared and he took a deep gulp before placing it back on the table.

    There was initial silence at the oaken table before a rough and quick snort came from his side as a woman wearing red leather armour with both her hands clasped together held back a laugh.

    ¡®Good one fatty. I liked the part about trying times. You never mentioned victory though, fatty. Profit is all good but money doesn¡¯t win wars, soldiers do. Then again you clearly have a taste for..the finer things in life.¡¯ said the woman in red leather armour as she raised her feet and kicked on the edge of the table leaning in her own chair tilting it backwards.

    The rotund man took the now empty transparent glass and grabbed it before throwing it at the woman with one swift motion. Her hand blurred for a second as it was sliced into two and both halves dropped onto the table before rolling onto the floor.

    ¡®Temper, temper, boys and girls.¡¯ came the voice of a seated masked figure. On their face was a black and white mask divided into two, the eyes beneath shined brightly.

    On their body they wore a flamboyant style frilled costume complete with matching gloves.

    ¡®I don¡¯t want to smack your bottoms to make you behave. Remember, on this table there is no competition, only good or naughty boys and girls.¡¯ said the figure in the mask as they made a mock smacking motion with one hand and a noise to match it.

    Along the edges of the room a short distance from the oaken table and six chairs there was a series of engraved windows along the walls, which allowed bright light to flow in from outside. There were no guards inside the room but outside several tables had been set up for the two personal soldiers that each Lord and Lady had been permitted to bring.

    An older man with scars, grey hair, a beard wearing a roughly hewn tunic with boots slammed a fist on the table.

    The masked figure stopped making a mock smacking noise but simply turned their mask in his direction and continued a smacking motion above the edge of the oaken table.

    ¡®Shut up. All of you shut up. I have a hangover and I¡¯m getting thirsty again so shut up. We did the prayer so now we need to work on our agenda. The old man will be busy with his weekly sortie and the Queen herself will demand a report of our actions. I don¡¯t mind power plays and crossing boundaries of authority but all this nonsense is getting to me.¡¯ said the man as he rubbed his throat absently mindedly.

    The rotund man man with fine clothing and jewellery stood up and placed both ringed fingers on the table before he lightly spoke.

    ¡®I can report that our trading remains strong despite our tenacious links on our three closest neighbour kingdoms. We have been fortunate that esteemed guests have arrived from the far distant Celestial Empire. One of them I have had the pleasure of meeting and he entered into a minor long-term trade deal with me. In short he supplied me with a not insubstantial amount of artwork from their Empire including copies of their writings in exchange for a variety of standard goods that originated from our own beloved kingdom.¡¯

    He reached out for the flagon before his fingers twitched and he let his hand drop, deciding instead to place both ringed hands on his lap and closing them together.

    These weekly meetings were tiresome but necessary in exchange for power, authority and influence within the kingdom. The Queen had been most forward thinking for one so young when she had ascended to the throne, by including them and all of their activities under her purview and giving them a mandate from a living Goddess she had bound them as they bound themselves.

    A young woman wearing a simple outfit which wouldn¡¯t have been out of place in a low-born tavern raised her hand meekly. Her hair was plain brown, her features held a trace of lightly applied make-up and her posture was bent forward as she leaned forward in her chair.

    A plain wooden cup with a metal band lay in front of her with the top of the liquid within showing forth and foam. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡®I¡­¡­.I have a topic to raise. Likely of some concern. Is...is everyone all right if I speak?¡¯ said the young woman.

    She rubbed her hands together as though anxious before she reached out to the wooden mug and held it in both hands before taking a deep drink before cautiously placing it back on the table.

    The older man with grey hair and scars straightened his back and paid immediate attention to the young woman.

    ¡®I¡¯d venture to ask if you¡¯re talking about news in your part of the world or business opportunities. Personally, I¡¯ve no interest in hearing about drugs, alcohol, gambling and other vices. You do a decent job of both controlling and encouraging the criminal elements of our kingdom. The returns are decent and the Goddess Aliza permits it and the Queen and the King Consort accept it. I appreciate the discounts you offer to old soldiers but we¡¯re not here to talk business. We¡¯re here to report on our actions. Are we clear on that young lady? This isn¡¯t one of your dens.¡¯

    The masked figure turned and waved at the young woman in the tavern maid¡¯s outfit before crossing arms and slumping forward on the oak table as though going to sleep.

    ¡®Old man, I work for a living. Out of all of you I was the only one who was on the verge of purchasing nobility through hard work and effort. Crime pays because humans have needs which society doesn¡¯t tolerate. Would you prefer open warfare in the streets when the levels of stress, anger and desire explode? No, I don¡¯t think any of you would. Respect my work if not my position. I earned my position on this table.¡¯ said the young woman as she drummed her fingers on the table.

    With one swift movement she grabbed the wooden mug and threw it back, draining the contents before thumping it back on the table and wiping her mouth with the back of one hand.

    ¡®She¡¯s been on the move again. The Lady with no face. For all her connections and loyalty to the Queen and the King Consort she continues to fail and waste resources which the capital city needs. Those two from the Celestial Empire you¡¯re talking about? My boys and girls saw them, along with a squad of augmented with her new target. I have a name this time, not that it matters. He¡¯ll either be dead or wish he was when this deluded quest of her fails again. Granted we have a representative of sorts from her at this table and I can respect that, but we don¡¯t know how her schemes are going to affect the situation. I¡¯ve had enough trying to deal with foreign gangs trying to muscle in on my territory. Would all of you consider this a matter for discussion? Raise your hands to vote.¡¯ said the young woman.

    The mock sleeping masked figure with head resting on crossed arms lying face down on the oak table stretched out one arm before raising it at an odd angle.

    Nothing human could have done it easily as the elbow joint bent backwards and a gloved hand held up in the air.

    The young woman in the plain brown outfit raised her own hand and kept it up as she glared at the others around the table.

    Two finely dressed nobles around the table who had been conversing with each other the entire time stopped their whispering to each other and raised hands without a sound.

    ¡®Lord of Victuals agrees. Name of fool.¡¯

    ¡®Lady of Guidance agrees as well. Tell us the name.¡¯

    Both voices were closely in unison as the pair spoke together.

    The pair were both young, in their early twenties at most both with middle length silver hair and green eyes. They held hands clasped as they both raised hands. Their clothing was of fine quality but not as expressive as the rotund man. Bore wore silver clothing with strips of fine white material intertwined.

    ¡®The twins are in agreement as has the Lordess of Culture. I, the Lady of Crime have set forward my opinion for a full discussion on the activities of the Lady Dee Mawr and her recent actions. I consider to be trying to create another crusade with an aim of entering the corrupted lands and the resting place of the Dark Lord. I say, that we cannot afford another of her ill-equipped failures. The corruption is being pushed back daily, the Goddess Aliza has worked hard tirelessly for years now that there will be an end. Those inside the Asylum will be treated and the Kingdom will finally be restored. And all the profit, power and influence we have gained will continu-¡¯ said the young woman as she rose to her feet and gestured with her hands.

    The voice of the rotund man followed by the old scarred man rang out stopping her conversation.

    ¡®We need to finish this meeting. I have places to go and coins to count.¡¯

    ¡®Enough of politics. I have security to see to.¡¯

    A third voice joined in. The masked figure had changed the mask on their face through an unseen action.

    ¡®Boring. I come here for entertainment and find the most interesting amongst us, a Crime Lady in her own right worried about another failure. I say, let the Lady with No Face proceed with her plans. It doesn¡¯t matter to any of us if she wins or fails. Only that the people remain entertained and our culture continues to flourish. Foreign influence will always enrich us, Lord Merchant, do you plan to exhibit the art forms of the Celestial Empire or sell them for profit? I would place my own bids to purchase them to display for all to see. An open mind is protection in more than one ways. I am bored, boys and girls. I vote no.¡¯ said the figure in the mask as they lay down and changed the oddly angled arm into a thumbs down vote.

    Bones and muscles snapped into place as the hand and arm conformed and settled back onto the figure with mask down on the table.

    The old scarred man slapped his hands together to draw their attention.

    ¡®Typical artist. Switching your emotional state depending on your mood. Not reliable. The Lord of Arms reports that we are equipped but the condition of our weaponry is less than I would prefer. The King Consort and his stunts have drawn valuable resources which could be used to purchase better materials. I vote yes for further answers. What¡¯s the name of her latest figurehead project then? I would think she ran out of enough fools to send to their deaths by this point. Most of the mercenaries in the city know better than to believe her. For the city, there have been minor reports of weapons shipments being misplaced but likely due to low-level cultist activity. As ever the Queens Guards are the highest priority for current equipment as are those warrior priests and guards at the Asylum. We do not need to discuss any further than this. I consier that we end the meeting without concerning ourselves with Lady Dee Mawr. What if she recruits a fool to her lost cause? Her failure will only reflect on herself. ¡¯ he said as he planted his hands on the table and glared at each of the others in turn.

    There was a moment on absolute silence in the room as each of the six Lords and Ladies who held authority over key areas of both the economy, society and state on behalf of the Goddess Aliza, the Queen and the King Consort took a drink from their own respective glass of choice and poured a fresh one. All except one.

    The lone figure wearing the mask on their face poured it on the floor instead before knocking the colourful ornate glass cup and jug off the table shattering both of them. Then they stood up, tore the mask off their face to reveal a person of indeterminate gender.

    ¡®I play the fool for enough people, I come to this table, this group through my hard work. My efforts. The rest of you inherited or were given. Tell us the bloody name of her new tool, then I¡¯ll put my mask back on, give you a report of the state of cultural affairs of all the mummers, dancers, singers and troubadours. No, I¡¯ll keep it short. The people are entertained but growing bored. They crave outside ideas, fresh influences. The King Consort and his little sortie attracts a decent crowd but nobody dies or comes back maimed. Lady of Crime, give us the name and we¡¯ll continue our usual song and dance until we leave this table and return to our own demesnes. All in agreement shut up and stare at my beautiful face before the mask replaces it once more. The Lordess of Culture has spoken. Praise the Goddess Aliza.¡¯

 Book 1 Ch 19: Etsuko the Baker, the Poison Maker

    ¡®So when they tried to extort me for the fifth time after killing me once more I planned ahead and made arrangement for vermin poison mixed with bread. Sadly, vermin poison wasn¡¯t for sale but arsenic was. I got the idea from a story my great-grandmother had told me once when she visited the capital city. I¡¯m pretty sure that she was a vampire or a witch to have lived so long but that¡¯s another story. She did look extremely young for her age so magic was involved. I¡¯m getting off track, side effect of dying sorry, so she ran her own bakery back in her own home city of Esing. Then one day she had enough of paying high taxes so she dumped a load of arsenic into her baked bread and made the local nobles sick. Sadly, they threw up the poison so she coopted the local pirates to burn and pillage their fancy palace to the ground. Yes, weird events always seem to happen to our family.¡¯ said Estuko as she was walking next to the Sergeant who was trying his best to both listen to her and keep an eye out for potential dangers on the orders of the King Consort.

    The group had made their way through the main gates of the capital city as those watching had their own fill of amusement and began to place bets on which ones would return dead, injured or badly corrupted.

    The inclusion of the newest variable had drawn more than a little speculation on the fact that given her clear lack of combat ability she would be either injured and healed or sent back with a minor escort.

    The King Consort had always been fair in his sorties to the nearby countryside of the capital city, over the years, the Light of the Goddess Aliza had pushed back the corruption magic from the stronghold of the Dark Lord but even so bandits, rogues, murderers and other elements used it either as a hiding place or worse.

    Cultist rituals had been a regular occurrence but the worse of it had been eliminated over time. In truth, to properly mount a sortie against the final stronghold of the deceased Dark Lord would take three essentials, an equipped and trained army, supplies and the ability to carry them across the corrupted lands and lost abandoned battlefields.

    The King Consort, despite having the full support of the Queen, in her role as both ruling monarch of Nurburg Kingdom and as Head of the Church of Light and Purity had never even given much thought towards such an endeavour.

    After his own family had been killed in the final battle against the Dark Lord he had lost his appetite for glory and death in equal amounts. Mounting a weekly sortie had killed enough but he had quickly made it his immediate priority that all who attended would return alive or at least badly injured and able to be healed. The deaths had been few but hit him harder than he ever cared to mention or share.

    ¡®Madam An¡¯Yu. While I appreciate the fact that you might feel nervous we do need to keep quiet for a little longer. I was tasked by the King Consort to keep you safe and the best way to do so is stay with me and follow where I walk. Corruption magic can take many forms and despite this area being relatively clear there are other threats. Criminal groups forced out of the city often take refuge in the countryside, we simply don¡¯t have enough soldiers to effectively stop them entirely. While you are here under my port-¡¯ said the Sergeant before he was grabbed with one arm and pulled down to the floor as a crossbow bolt shot through the air above where he had been standing.

    A chuckle came from behind him as the man fell straight onto the floor into the packed dirt path which had been leading out of the city. A slight lightly armoured hand held the crossbow bolt in one hand holding it mid-air a hand-span away from the face of the old noble accompanied by his two bodyguards.

    ¡®A funny trick, you walk along this well-used path and the bandits, criminals or even heretic cultists place a few traps here and there to try and kill the unwary. Sergeant, I¡¯d say in this case our lovely fresh out of the oven Baker Comrade saved you a flesh wound. No, the tip of it is the problem. They usually coat it in poison in my experience or something with a little more flavour. Compressed corruption at its finest.¡¯ smiled the old noble as he ignored the point of the crossbow bolt so near his face.

    One of his bodyguards snapped it in two with a single hand before she sniffed the point of the crossbow bolt and frowned before handing it to her sister and shook her head.

    ¡®Ira. There¡¯s no trace of poison on the bolt, and look at the fletching. This was freshly made, too fresh. Sir Richtson, something is clearly wrong. Even the corrupted usually use abandoned weaponry from the failed war, unless someone has worked out how to trade with the mad things I¡¯d say that we have ourselves an issue. Any ideas Ira?¡¯ said Tess.

    The female bodyguard pulled out a weapon in response and simply gave a nod ahead as she raised an arm in the air and attracted the attention of the frontal guard and the King Consort. Then she shook her head at her sister and put the broken bolt away inside a pocket within her leather studded armour.

    ¡®Shut up. We need silence. Immediately, you are here to guard Sir Richtson and the King-Consort. We can discuss this situation later. Good observation little sister, your eyes are keen as ever. Keep them watching for further traps.¡¯ said Tessa.

    Her raised arm was immediately picked up on by the old noble who raised his own arm in turn and the signal was carried along the column as each soldier, volunteer and fighter raised their own arm before dropping it and pulling out weapons at the ready.

    The column of the sortie had halted as the King Consort at the front held up one hand and soldiers of his personal guard spread out to check and secure the surrounding area. The ones who served with him, both voluntary and involuntary had enough experience of the situation to understand and react accordingly.

    The King Consort, turned his horse around and made his own personally designed hand gestures and his soldiers responded immediately. The Sergeant who had been pulled to the floor was lifted up by the young woman Etsuko as she pulled him up with more than a little strength.

    ¡®My thanks Madam, you¡¯re more aware and stronger than you look. And I¡¯m the one meant to look out for you. I owe you a small favour.¡¯ said the Sergeant as he turned and saw the hand gesture from the King Consort as he nodded and holding up one hand moved a few fingers in response.

    Even this near the city there are threats? No. the corrupted know better than to approach this close. The magic of the Goddess Aliza would cause them pain. This is the work of bandits or requires further investigation. I need to let Arda know I¡¯ll be late for dinner this time.

    The city gates were a fair distance away but there was visible movement on the walls as Light Magic signals appeared on the walls. The main priestess in the column raised her own staff as a ball of light appeared and floated up into the air above her before gently dissipating.

    The entire column of soldiers, volunteers and scattering of nobility with their bodyguards halted and weapons were drawn as Etsuko gave a massive sigh. There was further movement from the walls as several balls of light rose from the walls in response and the priestess took a firmer grip on her staff and robes as several of of the King¡¯s own personal soldiers moved into guarding positions around her.

    Over time, the King-Consort¡¯s sortie had developed strategies and contingency plans. The number of armed and equipped individuals was enough to fight off a number of corrupted as long as they kept a relative distance. Most of the bandits around the countryside of the city had learn not to directly engage as they were killed, only the most desperate, dangerous or mad had survived.

    There had become a truce of a type as bandits killed wandering corrupted and then threw their corpses into piles to be burnt, as long as they didn¡¯t directly destroy farms or took more than a small amount from the farmers in the countryside leeway was given.

    The King-Consort had learnt his lesson earlier on when he had been younger and far more enthusiastic, the war against the Dark Lord had ended in a failure for both sides. Monsters and creatures, trained soldiers had been killed and most of the nobility who had joined in the final fight had simply not returned or had been seen wandering as corrupted.

    Protect what you can. Don¡¯t try and protect everyone. Keep yourself alive and those under your command and come back home safe. Try your best.

    The Queen had patiently explained to him that they simply didn¡¯t have the soldiers or woman power in large enough numbers. to continue to protect farmers, keep the borders protected and continue to patrol the surrounding area and fight off corrupted who had survived and either hibernated or hidden themselves over the years.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The King-Consort, on his horse had more than one reason to ride in the front. He had a decent view, he could see those few scouts under his command also on their own horses and he would take full responsibility for anyone injured or killed.

    The entire column had entered a state of silence aside from muttered prayers to the Goddess Aliza, the relative distance from the city wasn¡¯t entirely enough to to stop all sounds but his troops knew enough to stay silent under he issued commands.

    In an act of survival and comradeship, the group had largely bonded although there was always one or two who was new who didn¡¯t know how to follow the rules. Not that it meant that they would be punished, the King-Consort had found that when an individual in a group found that everyone around them had suddenly become silent and drawn weapons with attention paid outwards they would follow suit.

    With his viewpoint higher up on his horse he took note of the newcomer who had decided that she preferred talking to follow the rest. She would learn quickly, or she would be left behind during the next sortie. Even in his role as the husband of the ruling leader of the Kingdom, outside of the capital city they needed to rely on each other.

    I¡¯m not going to let my ego get the best of me. Best to have a quick chat and settle it down before we proceed. Safety first. Always safety first. I¡¯m not going to have a brain-touched or one of suitable potential and power hurt this near the city. Besides, I¡¯m not letting those who bet on her to win. I placed my own wagers after all.

    After silently signalling to the scouts positioned on the front, rear and sides of the sortie column the King trotted his horse back to the position that he¡¯d appointed the woman calling herself a technical immortal along with the Sergeant he¡¯d tasked with keeping her safe. In case she was in fact an immortal or a sorceress he¡¯d rather keep on her good side, it wouldn¡¯t be the first time he¡¯d recruited talented individuals to join his sortie.

    As he drew closer, two of his personal guard flanked him on both sides and his personal soldiers down the column spread out a little further. After he nodded as his old comrade and ally Richtson and his two twin sister bodyguards he made a hand signal which was returned in like.

    Good man Conrad. Getting a little old for this, but at this point I need to take any help I can get. The Council of Six are already questioning my expense for the sorties and Arda needs all the support of that band of vipers she can get.

    When he was within talking distance, he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. His own golden armour hadn¡¯t been activated but granted that if would do so of its own accord if a sufficient degree of corruption was encountered he was safe enough.

    Obviously the newcomer wasn¡¯t a cultist but her conversation remained odd. More than an a little but he¡¯d appointed the Sergeant to her for a good reason. The man continued to hold a strong streak of paranoia in him after he¡¯d been taken advantage of during previous sorties.

    He drew in closer to hear her conversation before he pulled his own horse to a halt, kicking up reddish dust on the heavily worn path leading out of the city as his two personal guard took position next to him on their own mounts.

    ¡®¡­.this is closest to the furthest point I reached last time. There are minor differences with the fact that I saved you from being injured by the crossbow bolt wouldn¡¯t have killed or poisoned you. It was designed to cause minor injuries and slow everyone down, there should be a bunch of other traps but sadly they keep being randomise. I have no clue why some parts stay the same while other change but¡­.are you drawing a sword on me? I just saved you from a crossbow bolt and you¡¯re drawing a sword on me?¡¯ said Etsuko.

    The Sergeant stood there silently, nodding to the King-Consort, as he drew a short sword from his scabbard and let it hang loosely at his side. His own hand briefly touched a pouch on his belt, a mixture which he¡¯d purchased from alchemists in the city after being taken advantage of a few too many times.

    He was widely known as a kind man, too kind to be a soldier but he¡¯d tried to learn after the King-Consort had given him a little guidance and duly reminded him of his responsibility. He¡¯d never been trained or joined the King Consort¡¯s personal guard or soldiers but had chosen to remain a Sergeant out of old habits.

    ¡®Yes and no. All you have to do is answer a few questions and we move on. I wouldn¡¯t try to make a break for it past me though, the King-Consort is wearing his fancy armour and his two bodyguards are mounted and better armed and trained than me. Oh, and if you think you can make it back to the city gates and try and slip inside, they¡¯ve got strict instructions to shoot anyone who isn¡¯t with our band. I know they think we¡¯re a joke inside the walls but experience had taught us a thing or two about dealing with cultists and bandits. Do you notice how long I¡¯ve been talking for? I don¡¯t do it because I feel nervous and need a good chat, any of your buddies hanging around will get a nice surprise when we pick them up. We¡¯ve been down this road before it you¡¯ll pardon my Miss An¡¯Yu. Now, how would you like to carry on?¡¯ said Sergeant Reinhard as he fingered the pouch on his belt.

    The mixture within was nasty enough to even cause a corrupted to bleed from their eyes and he¡¯d practised enough and treated his hands specially before the sortie.

    Etsuko was tired of the same conversation, there were minor variances but it was basically the same situation over and over again. She wishes sometimes that she¡¯d rejected the strange man who¡¯d come to her stop dressed in his outlandish clothing and offered her a bowl of fresh noodles to cheer her up.

    As far as she was concerned he was either a god, a nice person or a wandering wizard like her great-grandmother was and wanted pure entertainment. She hadn¡¯t expected her wish to come true though as she nursed a bruised face and a broken nose. The criminals who had taken over the racket had hurt her and threatened worse if she didn¡¯t give them more extortion payments.

    ¡®So to clear this up. Hi there King-Consort Ulrich! I know the names of your bodyguards but you¡¯re going to get suspicious so I¡¯m just going to wave. No weapons see!¡¯ said Etsuko as she raised her hands up and slowly turned around in a circle before she dropped to a single knee.

    ¡®I appreciate your service Sergeant Reinhard and I¡¯ve literally just arrived at your sortie for the first time...if you don¡¯t count the last three where I nearly died. I think. As for the arrow, every single time I die and my personal day resets I get a little stronger physically and mentally. I noticed the trap with my eyes which are a whole let better than before. I would suggest that we carry on, there could be further traps ahead but I¡¯ve learnt my lesson and will keep my mouth shut when everyone else stops talking. Sorry, I forgot that rule and I kinda like to talk. Stops me going mad. A little. Actual progress helps more. Would you prefer I surrender my weapons and you bind me with a rope and use me as an autonomous thing to detect for traps? Yeah, I don¡¯t really know what the word means either but I met someone who tried explaining it to me. Give me a second¡­.construct! Treat me like a disposable construct. Just please don¡¯t send me back to the city under escort. Uh, please.¡¯ said Etsuko as she continued to kneel one knee on the reddish soil of the path out of the city.

    She¡¯d tried her best to explain her actions but granted that she¡¯d already got enough information regarding the sorties of the King-Consort she had a good handle of how they went. They either sent infiltrators back, used them as bait, or killed them but the latter was unlikely unless they were corrupted cultists.

    As she was kneeling she heard a noise, a spluttering sort of sound came from the direction of the King-Consort. Etsuko was aware that he only put on his helmet in direct situations despite the risks, she was counting on a single fact which had taken her a good while to understand.

    While the man was entirely devoted to his wife, the Queen ruler, his kingdom, his sortie troop and allies within he still held a single point of weakness which he was never able to overcome.

    He had a strange sense of humour and particularly enjoyed interacting with those who were considered outside of normal status. His comradeship with the noble called Conrad Richter was one of those, the man was an oddity for a noble and spent most of his time wandering rougher areas and the merchant districts looking for thieves and cultists to try and harm him.

    Got you. Finally. Progress at last. I just need to overcome the ambush and make myself look good while doing so.

    The King-Consort¡¯s face turned redder as he struggled to hold in his laughter before he got himself under control and spoke aloud to both the Sergeant and Etsuko.

    ¡®As a newcomer, we have a single rule. Everyone moves together and stops talking together, when one of us spots danger we all stop. As long as you can follow these...I¡¯m sorry Lady An¡¯Yu but can you get off your knee now. We¡¯re in close enough proximity to the city that those watching are going to think I¡¯m either going to behead you or appoint you as a knight.¡¯ said King Consort Ulrich with a bright smile on his face.

    Sergeant Reinhard, on hearing the words of the King-Consort simply dropped his fingers from the pouch on his waist, sheathed his sword and walked over to Etsuko before pulling her up off her knee and slapping her on the back.

    ¡®One of us. She¡¯s going to be one of us. Sorry your majesty, I¡¯ll teach her a little. You go back to your tasks. We¡¯re going to get on fine.¡¯ said Sergeant Reinhard as he grabbed on Etsuko¡¯s hand and yanked her forwards with the other hand placing a finger on his lips.

 Book 1 Ch 20: Not a Lecture Hall

    The sight of his old lecturer had made Cris pause for a moment as recently abandoned habits kicked in and he resisted the urge to raise his hand and ask a question. A solid hand on his shoulder reassured him as Ren stepped forward and nodded to the portly High Priest with a smile.

    [Thank you. I can see that Maxton Ge has clearly already given you a clear understanding of our ways. Your devotion to your Goddess of Light and Purity is a welcome sight. Please understand for us that we worship the Celestial Emperor, may he reign eternal. It appears that my new comrade here Cristiano is familiar with you, were you perhaps a personal tutor or an advisor to his noble family household?]

    Past Ren, Cris through the forced open double wooden doorway Cris saw long benches and seats and even a lectern at the front of the room. The entire area was illuminated by alchemical lights, the same type which he had seen throughout the building and on each bench was positioned a writing set and ink, along with paper and stacks of what appeared to him to be fresh but blank books.

    From his perspective an entire room had been changed into a classroom, likely by the robes figures rushing around with their papers, documents and materials. The fact that one of the main lecturers who always wanted students to engage and learn and had the nickname of the bellows was present made Cris consider that likely he was in for another lecture.

    Despite being kicked out of his studies due to his inquisitive nature he had truly wanted to find his own path in life and had been at a loss. He hadn¡¯t expected quite this quickly to end back in front of a teacher who encouraged every single one of his trainee priests and priestesses to talk despite his obviously loud tone of voice.

    After he stared openly without shame at the construct, High Priest Schmid rubbed his fingers through his thick beard after giving Cris a bright smile. His face was composed in deep thought as he continued scratching his beard before a light lit up in his eyes as he raised both arms up as though conducting a lecture and the construct was one of his favourite students.

    ¡®THE CELESTIAL EMPEROR? AH, I KNOW YOUR TYPE. ONE OF THE CHILDREN OF HEAVEN? I VISITED YOUR EMPIRE ONCE WHEN I WAS A YOUNG MAN. BLESS YOU, BLESS THE FOREIGN HERETICS FOR VISITING OUR BLESSED KINGDOM. BLESS THE GODDESS ALIZA, BLESS HER GUIDANCE IN TRYING TIMES.¡¯ came the voice of High Priest Schmid.

    A voice from behind him inside the room spoke softly but with clear authority. Cris didn¡¯t detect a single pulse of light energy but the rotund man in front of him dressed in the fine clothing of a High Priest of the Goddess Aliza deflated for a moment as an inflated animal bladder with the air removed.

    ¡®High Priest Schmid. You are here at my discretion and mine alone. This is not your lecture and we are not all young trainee priests and priestesses who need lessons drilled into them. Young Cristiano is an exception of course, he has recently left his service as a trainee priest for reasons entirely private to himself which we do not need to discuss. I have been tasked by our Queen and your Head of the Church of Aliza to do necessary work for the kingdom. I would ask one time only, do you want to reduce the volume of your voice and conduct an actual impromptu lecture as I requested or would you prefer to go on sabbatical leave form your duties?¡¯ said the woman who Cris recognised as Lady Joanne Dee Mawr.

    The rotund man paused for a moment before he shook his head and then clasped both hands over his mouth as he immediately nodded and gave Cris a suggestive wink before he edged himself to the side and then gestured for the two to enter the room.

    The construct Ren said a few words in the same lyrical language which Cris had heard him speak with both Ren and Alessandro although High Priest Schmid didn¡¯t respond his face reddened under his beard and Cris was certain that he was in fact blushing.

    When Cris entered he saw that the entire room had indeed been set up like a classroom, the front of the room had a large lectern with various maps and drawings pinned up and a large pile of scrolls and parchments on a large side table next to it.

    The woman Lady Joanne Dee Mawr had changed her face and appearance once more, this time she was wearing black leather armour with ridges and a fur collar with short blonde hair and a pale face with blue eyes.

    If Cris hadn¡¯t recognised her voice he would have sworn that she was an entirely different woman but he supposed that given her own magical abilities she would also be able to change her voice. Her body was something else but he had only seen the degree of melded corruption inside her facial area which had become deeply interconnected but showed no physical signs of degradation or damage which was usually the case.

    Even cultists who opposed the rule of the Goddess Aliza wore robes or masks to disguise how their features had been worn and the flesh underneath marred due to the corruption interacting with both their bodies and their souls.

    ¡®Master Cifesborn. Take a seat. You¡¯ll find that Ren and Maxton Ge have taken theirs already, would you like to sit at the front? I¡¯m sure it can be easily arranged. After all, we have plenty of space and your old tutor would be most pleased to see you paying attention. I will be attending as well in a supervisory capacity, as for why High Priest Schmid is here, you can call it a test of his abilities as a teacher. We¡¯ll be needing his services later to inform other students as they arrive and our little group grows. Please. Take a seat. I see your fresh clothing suits you and you appear far more refreshed after a little rest, the rest of us have been waiting for quite some time though.¡¯ said Lady Joanne Dee Mawr.

    Inside the room, Cris saw Maxton Ge sitting right at the back with both feet on the table in front of him as he played with torn pieces of paper in front of him and folded it into strange shapes. He pulled out a similar green small-size sphere from under the table before throwing it into his mouth and swallowing it with a single gulp.

    Cris realised that he was the only person who was armed inside the entire room, none of the others showed any visible weaponry. Not even a dagger for self-protection as was common in his kingdom. Likely, due to their own power levels he was little threat to any of them.

    High Priest Schmid alone had managed to entirely block off his own extended magical senses from a decent distance but held enough control that all Cris would see were purely visual effects.

    I¡¯m glad I freshened up for this at least. Not many of us though, what did she mean about other students? More ex-trainee priests like me? Guess I¡¯m not a special chosen one after all.

    Then he tore off a larger piece and spat on it before throwing it in the direction of Ren who caught it without looking and crumpled it before dropping it on the brown wooden planks which made up the mock classroom floor. The construct gave an expression of disdain as green drops of liquid ran off the surface of his palm and onto the wooden floor causing it to burn for a second before the smoke evaporated.

    ¡®More? There are the three of us...six if you include. Maxton Ge, Alessandro, yourself and High Priest Schmid. Actually, where is my grandfather? I need to apologise to him.¡¯ said Cris as he hesitated over where he should take a seat. He didn¡¯t want to sit too close and become deafened and the fact that he was in classes only a few short weeks ago was both a reminder and a minor humiliation of his failure training as a priest.

    Alessandro would have told me to get back into the good books of a tutor. Try for another chance to make something of myself. Where are you old man?

    The thought came into his mind that he had been quite selfish and only thought of himself when he had chosen to enter the building with Ren, directly considering his own needs and tiredness when he had left his Head Servant and surrogate grandfather outside with Lady Joanne Dee Mawr to deal with the injured guards. He still hadn¡¯t quite gotten over the fact that the old man used to be an assassin of some renown. That was a whole issue which he wasn¡¯t prepared to deal with at the present time, at the least he knew that Alessandro wasn¡¯t going to be in any serious danger from his acceptance in an attempt to save the kingdom. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Cris never realised that he had remained standing as the construct Ren had already taken a seat directly at the front only a short position away from the lectern where further materials had been stacked as robed figures entered through the double doors and left immediately after depositing them.

    ¡®Someone, make him take a seat. Please. Doubtless his youth precedes him as he was unable to complete a full breadth of education due to necessary complications. Cris, I asked you nicely. You are in a classroom and whether or not you are in the academy you will show due respect to your lecturers. High Priest Schmid, please take your position at the lectern at the front and begin when ready. I would be most keen to hear your revelations and observations on the power of our blessed Goddess Aliza and the continued absence of all other gods within our kingdom.¡¯ said Joanne Dee Mawr.

    She adopted a straight backed posture and strode to the back of the classroom taking a seat next to Maxton Ge before she rested her hands on the desk in front of her adopting a more relaxed pose as her gaze swept the room before her eyes fixed on High Priest Schmid with a slight frown on her face.

    Maxton Ge called out from his position at the back of the mock classroom as he sat next to Lady Joanne Dee Mawr as the High Priest adjusted his clothing and cleared his throat before with surprisingly agility and energy for his rotund figure went to the front of the classroom and took a position on a lectern with maps and drawings on the board behind him.

    He took hold of several of the parchments and stacks of materials, picking up some and discarding others to the side letting them fall on the wooden floor of the room paying no attention.

    The High Priest muttered to himself under his breath, but with his magical senses essentially reduced and the massive feedback from energy use Cris simply accepted it. When they had tried it back in the academy the old rotund man hadn¡¯t been too strict as long as they listened and showed him the notes that had been taken during his classes.

    ¡®Young Master, come to the back with the bad boys and girls. You too Ren, wait you like to stick to the rules. You can go to the front. All those Imperial Exams you got to skip just due to being born didn¡¯t make you a good student. Get on with it then old man. I¡¯ve tolerated this enough and I have a kingdom to explore and poisons to sample, I¡¯ve heard in the foreign merchants sector of your small city there was certain specialists with some good stuff on sale.¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    A crackle of light and purity energy lit up the room for a moment as the hair of the High Priest turned pure white and his voice altered.

    ¡®All students will take a seat. The lecture will begin.¡¯ said the older man with a soft tone before Cris experienced a presence of light and purity energy easily overpowering his own and his body moved to an available seat directly next to Maxton Ge.

    An ache filled his body as he struggled with the instant influx of energy into his own body as he was still recovering from the self-inflicted damage he had caused. Maxton Ge gave him a strange look at he pulled down his feet from the desk in front of him, taking writing instruments and the blank book in front of him and moved to a non-torn page. Then he raised a hand straight in the air.

    ¡®No questions. Listen first then discuss.¡¯ said High Priest Schmid as he began to cough heavily before smacking a hand on his rotund stomach before crackling white energy ceased to flow across his beard and skin.

    Cris prepared himself for a full-on outburst from the man, he had usually began each lecture as he spoke, passionate and shouting at the top of his voice as he would berate them for their lack of interest in spiritual and wordly affairs.

    ¡®I would ask for your attention to this particular map. We lack a current, updated type but this is mostly due to the lack of people willing to venture beyond our fair capital city, past the countryside and the war-corrupted areas and then die a horrible death¡¯ said High Priest Schmid as he took a long metal rod which had been placed behind the lectern and spoke with a grave tone.

    The rest of the room were paying rapt attention Cris noticed until he was nudged by Maxton Ge who tilted his head to the front and the map.

    ¡®As far as we can tell, the corruption magic unleashed during the death of the Dark Lord and the severe contamination of the lands surrounding his final stronghold are fixed to strict barriers. This is not the case for those poor souls, evil ones and scum who do not deserve to see the blessed light of our Goddess Aliza who retain a portion within their very forms as they exit. Thankfully, after a few experiments run by the Church of Light and Purity which were gracefully adopted and fully understood after a few mishaps and the direct intervention of Queen Ferberg we understand that they suffer and become drained rather quickly, then death swiftly ensues as the corruption magic is simply drawn out of their bodies towards a fixed point in our kingdom. CRIS ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?¡¯ said High Priest Schmid as he increased the volume of his tone as Cris was trying his best to write down notes in his own book as fast as he could.

    Simply nodding his head and keeping his mouth shut had worked before and he was certain that it would work again. Thankfully man simply nudged his head forward slightly before tapping on the map once more, this time on an artists rendition of the final stronghold and death of the Dark Lord.

    The image was a hellish imagination of twisted creatures rising from the ground as they worshipped a figure dressed in a mock-style of armour sitting on a throne with a lamp emitting black smoke next to him.

    ¡®Good. Back to the topic, I have no need to discuss the events of the last fifteen years. If our esteemed guests from the Celestial Empire wish to know more they can talk to me after I finish or as I¡¯m sure, Lady Dee Mawr has her own sources for them to take in which are far superior to mine. Back on topic, there are two issues. One, we now fully understand that there was a fixed point of corruption magic which caused the severe damage surrounding the final battlefield on which most of our fighting soldiers, nobles and other supporting baggage trains died. A tragedy which all but weakened our kingdom but also came as a blessing as our Queen and her King-Consort were able to ascend to the throne.¡¯

    The only sound within the mock classroom was all of those present except for High Priest Schmid writing down within the large books with writing tools. Both Maxton Ge and Ren had produced brushes and their own ink as Cris saw the man with golden eyes next to him drawing strange lines, more akin to alchemical marks than any script that he had seen before.

    He decided to raise his hand to ask a question. Partially out of nostalgia but also because he wanted a question answered. It had been the type and number of questions which he raised which had kicked him out of the academy according to the Headmistress and by this point he doubted he could do worse unless he directly contravened heresy against the Goddess or her kingdom representative in the form of the Queen.

    ¡®As ever young man, ask your question. An open mind leads to more answers but this isn¡¯t a formal lecture and I am no longer your direct teacher. Be aware of real dangers when you receive answers you may not appreciate and which shake your world view a little. Go on then boy, ask.¡¯ said High Priest Schmid with a sad look on his bearded face.

    ¡®You said two issues but only raised one. I want to ask why the Goddess Aliza doesn¡¯t simply cure all of the corrupted in our kingdom and then we simply raise another army to destroy whatever the true source of the corruption magic is?¡¯ asked Cris.

    Ren turned his head backwards while sitting forwards while staring at Cris and both Maxton Ge and Lady Dee Mawr turned their intense gaze on him. The latter had turned her hair a shade of silver when he hadn¡¯t been paying attention and matched her eyes into a deep golden hue the same as Maxton Ge.

    ¡®An easy and difficult answer. I do not deal with the affairs of state nor temporal matters. I am concerned with the souls of those in our kingdom and the faith. You are too young to remember that once we had many gods within our kingdom before they vanished. You will ask Lady Dee Mawr for her truth about armies and bands of heroes striding forward to vanquish forgotten evil. As for the Goddess Aliza, in truth she has simply reached her absolute limit and can do no more than she is presently. Her presence covers the entire capital city, parts of the countryside and enables priestesses and priests of her faith like myself to protect and ward off corruption. She cannot do more. Even a Goddess has limits.¡¯ said High Priest Schmid.

 Book 1 Ch 21: Killing Grounds

    After finding further traps along the path leading out of the city the column of professional soldiers, scattering of nobles and other volunteers had slowed their pace considerably. The King-Consort Ulrich was silently examining his options when he was interrupted by a returning mountain scout who signalled to him with her hands that she had important news to impart.

    After the usual accompanying Priestess of Light and Purity, flanked with two of his own personal guards briefly inspected her for traces of corruption and gave her the all clear she approached the King-Consort off her house and knelt down on one knee near his position with others watching closely.

    She was a thin woman, small for her age but fast enough on her horse that he doubted that anyone could have caught her on foot, even corrupted which had burnt off their life force to achieve speeds would prove a challenge. Her hair was black and tied up in a bun behind her and her eyes were a deep brown.

    Her armour was plain leather and she had already removed her sword and dagger and left both, along with an armed small crossbow on her mount before she had approached the king. The gesture had become a type of standard approach during the early parts of the sortie, but if the situation became dangerous if would insist that everyone remained armed even inside his presence.

    The old noble Baron Richtson with his twin bodyguards paid closer attention than most as he whispered quiet words to the pair as he sat down on the ground resting his legs. He was one of the few nobles who refused to enter the sortie mounted, saying that his old legs needed the exercise and the scouts needed it more.

    ¡®Yes Saskia. Speak freely, we hide nothing on our sorties. Not a one of us, lest we all die. Guards, you will watch her but not intervene. My armour will protect me but I will not have either of you hurt for nothing. Please. Off your knees, bad enough that newcomer did it for as long as she did. Outside of the walls of our capital city I am simply the commander and the one who takes responsibility for the sortie. Nothing more.¡¯ said King Ulrich as he approached the unmounted scout guard and pulled her arm with one armoured arm.

    He had his own reasons for doing so as well though, his golden armour had been thoroughly blessed, altered and magically imparted to immediately fight even without his consent to protect him from either corrupted or in times of extreme danger.

    If not for the armour, his own wife would never have allowed him to maintain his weekly sorties as a both a means of entertainment, a form of morale boosting and lastly his own small contribution to the running of the kingdom. He had little else to offer besides opinions and honesty and with the council of six there was little else for him to truly rule over. Besides, he trusted his wife implicitly, her decisions were his decisions. They had loved and knew each other since before they had even been betrothed as young teenagers.

    ¡®Your maje-. Sir Averill. There are complications outside the walls of the city, I¡¯ve found traces of dead badly corrupted folk. Judging from their clothing, some of them were soldiers on the field of battle and others were only years more recent. All were dead. But it was how they died is the issue, I¡¯ve not seen it before.¡¯ said Saskia as she spoke to him with her head down. Even though he tried to be a fair man, the strength of his nobility and the traditions of the kingdom held strong as she spoke without directly looking him in the face.

    The fact that the strange woman had done so even though she had bent a knee was only telling of her ignorance and lack of understanding.

    The personal guards around the king tensed slightly and Priestess Wendler showed clear signs that she wanted to speak. The other mounted scouts were yet to return as was Sergeant Reinhard and the baker turned mercenary called Etsuko, given her ability to discern hidden traps he had tasked both of them with checking the entire path leading out of the city and either disabling or force triggering any tracks which could have caught merchants or visitors to the city gates.

    He expected their return soon enough, he¡¯d given them a time limit or a trap limit and then given clear instructions to return. Checking the path meant that both of them were in short running distance if needed and it gave the young woman a purpose with his sortie. King Ulrich liked her, she was the sort of oddball who belonged in his motley group and he¡¯d rather recruit her before his wife could.

    He gave the Priestess standing next to him his full attention with an apologetic glance.

    ¡®One moment. Berthild, you wish to speak? We can hold a council if you deem it necessary but I need to finish listening to Saskia first. I feel that she has more to say. My apologies, please continue Saskia.¡¯ said King-Consort Ulrich.

    The weather was holding fair and the clouds had been pushed back by strong winds the night before, it had been one of the reasons that he hadn¡¯t held off form his sortie. There were many forms of protection and he would take as many as he could to keep his people safe.

    ¡®There are further traces which are unclear to me, I found that when I backtracked the path of the corrupted I found a hidden shelter which had been built a long time ago and in which a dozen bandits were dead. They had been attacked by a group of corrupted as one of their own had been turned and killed and the body dumped outside and then set of fire. The remains and the physical transformation were obvious but the dead bandits were another issue.¡¯ said Saskia with her head remaining bowed.

    The sound of horses drawing closer caused the King-Consort¡¯s personal guards to tense up before the old Noble Baron Richtson raised an arm and let it drop signalling the return of the scouts.

    His two twin bodyguards were watching the path in both directions, one of them had cupped her hands to block the sun from her eyes as she watched the Sergeant and the newcomer Etsuko who had learnt both of their names as well that of their charge without even meeting them.

    Both had hands on weapons and were prepared to fight, run or defend at a moment¡¯s notice. The old Baron had aged faster in the last fifteen years he had both taken care of them and trained them after rescuing both of them from the street of one of the poorer quarters of the capital city. Even if he had wanted to his knees wouldn¡¯t allow him to run the distance back to the city unless one of them coopted a horse and he had always refused it, saying that he¡¯d walk as long as he was able to.

    ¡®How were they killed Saskia? Did they turn on each other out of fear? Or a cultist could have infiltrated them easily and caused discord. These have happened before and we¡¯ve dealt with enough similar events in the past.¡¯ said the King-Consort. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The scout hesitated for a moment before speaking.

    ¡®Sir, the entire bandit base had been scoured clean with purity and light magic. And a flag was placed in the middle. All of the belongings of the bandits of any value had been removed with a scroll of parchment warning that any who dealt with the corrupted would be killed and the land belonged to the Reclaimer Movement. Every single bandit had their throat slit cleanly with not a single other wound on their bodies.¡¯ said the Scout.

    The King-Consort Ulrich considered the news as the other three scout troops returned. He gave them a hand signal and they halted a distance from his position as he made his decision.

    He nodded to the priestess and spoke briefly. ¡®Priestess Wendler. You will signal for all members of the sortie to return, then send another signal to the city warning that we have discovered an issue that needs investigation. As of now all weapons are to remain drawn and ready to use at my command. For the attention of everyone there is a viable threat to our capital city, I don¡¯t know the details but communication is permitted. We all travel in groups and line of sight. Not a single person leaves us even for absolutions. Priestess Wendler, remain with us. If anything happens we need you to signal a warning to the city. As of now we are on a war footing. Military discipline will be enforced. We will protect each other and every single one of us will return as long as you obey commands. I need to inform everyone else when they arrive. Saskia, I need you and the other scouts to locate Sergeant Reinhard and Lady En¡¯Yu and bring them here, I doubt there are any stragglers but be careful. Remember, no direct combat. Retreat if you need.¡¯

    The scout simply nodded her head and turned under the watchful eye of the pair of personal bodyguards and other soldiers in comparative close proximity who all had their own hands on their own weapons.

    The other three scouts gave their reports but had found nothing familiar or unfamiliar, the area around them was simply deserted and there were no signs of either corrupted, travellers, merchants, bandits, robbers or even farmers moving their goods to market.

    The latter operated more along the lines of mini-strongholds around their own farms and would only bring their produce back to the city under armed escort. This early in the day it was unlikely that any of them would have been active unless attacked.

    Priestess Wendler held her staff with both hands as she drew in intakes of breath before she glanced at the surrounding soldiers and spoke aloud as the powers of the Goddess flowed through her.

    ¡®Your Majesty, I¡¯m no longer young and my contact with Goddess Aliza is limited at most. I can give two signals at most and then I¡¯ll need time for my body and soul to recover. Besides, there remain people on the walls watching and my fellow brethren will be keeping a close eye on your progress.¡¯ said Priestess Wendler.

    King-Consort Ulrich simply nodded his agreement with verbally responding and signalled for a handful of his personal guard to protect the Priestess.

    He knew that there were those in the city who thought his weekly sortie a form of comic relief and a waste of resources, all they saw was him in fancy golden armour befitting a High Noble, several other hangers-on and the odd newcomer who usually never came back or quit before they even left the security of the city walls.

    The Council of Six barely gave him the resources to outfit and equip his own guards with food, supplies, weapon and armour maintenance. He¡¯d had to rely on the generosity of old friends like Baron Richtson to supply the scouts with horses, all in all he struggled to perform a duty which was necessary.

    The borders of the kingdom were barely occupied at the best of times and if not for patrolling groups of mounted soldiers they wouldn¡¯t have a decent clue if the kingdom was going to be invaded. Granted that most of the corrupted either turned, created or the remnants of the Dark Lord¡¯s final army had already been killed when they had attacked the capital city a decade ago and the power of the Goddess Aliza had turned them into ash.

    A cough behind him reminded him that his personal guard had remained close despite being on look-out for any immediate threats. Usually given the relatively flat plains surrounding the immediate area of the city corrupted were easier to spot.

    All of them were armed and had trained with crossbows and they were easier to dispatch or at least incapacitate until the priestess could dispel the vile magic inhabiting their forms. Or the King-Consort could release the stored magic within his golden armour but he preferred to keep that as a last resort in case they were swarmed with corrupted.

    The latter had only happened a handful of times over the decade in which the sorties had been taking place but he preferred caution over losses. It was simply his own way of trying his best to be a noble of example and inspiration.

    The same voice coughed again, this time with more purpose. King-Consort Ulrich began to smile as he considered how he needed to explain the situation to the relative and strange newcomer.

    The female soldier trying to get his attention was one of his personal guards who had been with him for at least ten years, she had refused to advance further saying that she preferred her present position but that he was one of the few nobles who deserved to be protected. The fact that she got fresh air and time away from her husband and children was a bonus when she was paid to do so.

    Karlotta. Always the cautious one. Go on then, say what you need to.

    He had wanted to promote her to a higher role but she had always wanted to keep her position. As one of the private guards of the King-Consort they held a rank and status similar to the Queen¡¯s Guard without such nice armour, weapons and boosted light and purity magic physical attributes.

    ¡®Your Majesty. I would suggest that we maintain a command centre here and send out the scouts with soldiers and any volunteers to further investigate the issues. We¡¯re in close enough proximity to the capital city to request emergency relief if needed and your personal safety is the main importance of our mission. The Queen has made this quite clear to us. As your personal guard, we will support your sorties but we will not risk your life. Not any any cost. Also, your wife is an extremely powerful woman and I¡¯d prefer that my husband doesn¡¯t suffer her wrath because you were too stubborn.¡¯ said the female soldier whom he only knew as Karlotta preferred as Karl.

    She had never given her last name and he had never pushed for it despite meeting her husband and three children in person.

    ¡®Thank you Karl. Are we all in agreement with her judgement? I value all opinions, I will take full responsibility for any actions and will blame none. For the situation, we need more information and a better idea. I need to know whether the Reclaimer Movement in the city has been out here operating without express permission from the Queen or if this is another threat. There have been rumours that the three surrounding kingdoms have grown tired of our efforts to eradicate corruption within our borders but nothing more. We have an idea of a dead bandit hideout but given the use of Light and Purity Magic we need to discover a nest of corrupted. I¡¯m not going to tell anyone to do it but I will ask for volunteers. Karl, you will take the soldiers in the immediate vicinity and establish both a patrol and a point for withdrawal.

 Book 1 Ch 22: A Motheréˆ¥æªš Love

    The man who held the title of Lord of Arms was weary down to his bones. He had aged significantly in the last fifteen years despite only being in his mid-thirties he could easily pass for another dozen years older.

    This meeting had likely added a few more years despite the briefness of it. He had come up with a problem which he thought had been solved some time ago.

    The brashness and stupidity of youth. How old is he now? Sixteen? No. Eighteen. Wants an adventure and asks too many questions. Intelligent and sharp just like his mother though. Also, just as good looking. That¡¯ll get him into trouble.

    A voice brought Henerik out of his personal musings as he stood up and kept a straight face as the meeting was formally ended and all discussion had finished. The cups on the table had been removed by servants only moments before and the spillage cleaned up.

    ¡®The Lord of Arms is departing. The meeting of the Six Lords and Ladies has come to an end. Praise the Goddess Aliza and the Queen!¡¯ said the herald as Henerik had taken his turn to leave the room and its wooden table and fancy drinks of their own personal choice behind.

    Nodding his head and giving a customary gift to the herald of a handful of noble scrip with the understanding that it would be evenly divided up between the servants who served and had to tidy up the meeting room he ignored the chatter of the other Lords and Ladies behind him.

    He heard brief snatches of conversation as he waited for the meeting room door to open and his two personal guards to leave their own waiting room and attend him on his way out of the palace corridors.

    ¡®¡­.Celestial Empire? A myth I believe, they can¡¯t be real.¡¯

    ¡®One of them wasn¡¯t a man. No, not in that way, I mean he¡¯s literally not a man but he looks like one. I¡¯m trying to explain but¡­¡¯

    ¡®Love, peace of mind through lessened inhibitions. Why the Goddess herself can strike me down if she thinks I¡¯m hurting the city. People need an outlet, you try and kill all the criminals and they¡¯ll just hide. Always have, always will.¡¯

    ¡®We need to speak in private. My sister agrees with me and I agree with her.¡¯

    ¡®Yes, speak in private. My brother agrees and I agree with him.¡¯

    Henerik shook his head at the gossip and talks which always accompanied the end of each meeting. The herald opened the doors himself and bowed down deeply with the bundle of noble scrip vanishing into a hidden pocket in his servants clothing.

    If the man had chosen to simply pocket it as he did with the various other gifts handed over by the Lords and Ladies then he would need to have stronger words with him at their next meeting. The profit in which Henerik made forging, shipping in and selling weapons and armour to the kingdom and various groups within was mostly funnelled back into the business itself.

    ¡®Thank you. I will wait for my guards before leaving. Just a precaution of course, the palace is as safe a place in the kingdom as any. Bless the Goddess Aliza.¡¯ said Henerik when the man had gestured for him to enter through the open doorway.

    After waiting for a brief period in which he knew that his personal guards enjoyed their time chatting with the others of the Six Lords and Ladies both of them appeared. A man and a woman both armoured but not carrying any visible weapons beyond daggers at their waists, obviously sheathed appeared and gave the herald a deep look before they took their positions. Their metal armour was reasonably plain but had the shine removed from it on purpose to disguise the quality. Both wore helmets covering their heads but left their faces bare as one of them smiled at Henerik.

    Henerik had little reason to talk openly in this place, his guards would only relax when off duty and he had no interest in mindless small talk but he would ask them to talk to him of the words shared inside the waiting room.

    While not in direct competition with each other, there were overlapping boundaries which were clearly shared by the Six Lords and Ladies. Authority and power came from the Goddess Aliza, the Queen and fell onto them.

    Any information he could put to good use or even prepare for the next meeting would be beneficial. He wasn¡¯t looking for profit though. Money for him wasn¡¯t an immediate priority nor was leverage over the others in the same level of power as him.

    He had inherited enough from his parents, his grandparents and down the lineage of nobility which had developed in the kingdom over the last few hundred years that wealth for him had eventually become a secondary consideration.

    Weapons, armour and tools of war were always in demand, even if the situation remained relatively peaceful. He never gave out anything without payment in kind though. The King-Consort and his precious sorties largely lived on charitable donations from the few nobles who supported his cause and the stipend provided by his wife.

    A brave if foolish man. One of these days he simply won¡¯t come back, even with that fancy suit of Goddess imbued armour protecting him. Good luck to him.

    There were others richer than him he knew, especially the Lord Merchant. He believed in accumulating assets, both legally and physically and his control of the trade routes and connections with the three previous vassal kingdoms would make it easy for most to believe that he was a greedy, corrupt and feckless fool.

    Not many would believe that he was in fact a truly faithful man who cared for the orphans who had been left astray and he had even taken in more protecting them from the hidden experiments which the Church of Light and Purity had run behind closed doors until the Queen had found out.

    In truth the fat man, was one of his closest allies out of all the Six Lords and Ladies and regularly came to his household for meals and conversation. They all wore masks during meetings and public appearances, even if they weren¡¯t on their faces as the Lordess of Culture wore.

    Out of all of them, she kept herself the variable. The one who would switch sides and instil a little bit of chaos to keep them fresh and interested in their conversation. Henerik truly didn¡¯t know what to make of her despite the rumours surrounding her which he had no interest in paying attention to.

    After each formal meeting had finished, they would drop their pretences and roles and simply chat, some were old friends, others wanted to share gossip and information that would benefit both sides. For Henerik, he simply wanted to see his family. His family would be waiting for him and he had news to share, especially for his wife.

    She would be both saddened to hear the news and likely concerned but in a sense she was a far stronger person than he was. Her potential and ability had made up for her initially lacking social status and resources in the city but she had both captivated him and tamed him in a sense. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    The simple roughly hewn tunic he wore and empty knife sheath on his studded belt

    His rough footsteps were muffled by the rich carpeted floors that made up the standard meeting room inside the royal palace. Servants bowed as he walked past but he kept his back straight and made a point to thank each one for their service.

    His two personal guards fell into footstep behind him, their armour wasn¡¯t shiny or polished but darkened on purpose and thoroughly cleaned. Each one held a single dagger on their sides but he knew that the reinforced gauntlets on their hands would do far more damage when they released the sharp spikes hidden within.

    Neither of them scowled at the servants but simply kept their eyes forward and their ears open. Assassination of one of the Six Lords and Ladies had been a target for the cultists which had infiltrated the city or those who were simply hiding deep below in the forgotten sewers and other barren areas.

    Not a single one of them had been hurt yet as there were usually softer targets but they chose to be careful as a matter of precaution. Despite more than a decade of the Church of Light and Purity either killing off, cleansing or even sending those corrupted to the Asylum there continued to be minor cults who continued to worship the Dark Lord and the corruption magic he unleashed.

    ¡®Eyes forward you two. I expect a recount of your talk with the other guards when we return. My wife will literally have both of you shot from a ballista if I die walking through the palace. Remember, in this place and at this time I am the Lord of Arms. You can stop that smirk as well. I don¡¯t have to turn back to see it on either of your faces.¡¯

    Henerik had been acting in his appointed role as one of the ruling Lords of the Kingdom of Nurburg despite his noble position remaining as a Baron. In a way he held dual-authority, he was able to maintain his own estate in his name and that of his wife and children, have his own private soldiers and a fine house in the noble sector of the city but he also held vast political power and influence.

    None of the nobles left in the city had dared to rise further, mostly out of fear, after the Queen herself had conducted a political purge on the city, removing those from power who had supported the insane experiments of those in the Church of Light and Purity a few short years after the war had finally ended.

    Then she had turned her attention to those who remained and consolidated her power even further. When the young sole princess had risen to the rank of ruling monarch after nearly her entire family, cousins, uncles and aunts who had chosen to participate in the final battle against the Dark Lord she had first grieved but her inner strength and the support from her betrothed prince.

    After a single month of mourning she had declared the establishment of both the Church of Purity and Light and then the creation of the positions of Six Lords and Ladies who would be chosen from the surviving nobility to create both a counter-balance for her and also to protect and serve the interests of the Kingdom.

    Corrupt. Well, not exactly. Subsumed more like.

    The meeting with the Six Lords and Ladies who acted as a counterpart to the Queen in her dual role as sole ruling monarch and Head of the Church of Purity and Light hadn¡¯t gone as he planned.

    As always they started each weekly meeting with a prayer to the Goddess Aliza and despite not being a firm believer there wasn¡¯t a single one of them who could deny her existence when her power shone brightly over the city protected them daily as it had for the last fifteen years.

    The main issue for him hadn¡¯t been the discussion as such but the content that had been involved. He knew that the Lady Joanne Dee Mawr was going to try and recruit and assemble another band of would-be heroes to try an attempt to cross the hazardous areas where the corruption magic remained strong enough and only bandits, monsters and transformed humans survived in.

    In truth, she would have been good for business if she simply hadn¡¯t chosen to requisition arms and armour without payment in kind. Henerik was responsible for providing, importing a few and selling weapons and tools of war but it didn¡¯t mean that he held absolute authority.

    The other Lords and Ladies could overrule and encroach on his decisions and purchases as he could with their territory and assets where authority overlapped and crossed lines.

    Henerik was pleased with the fact that none of them during this meeting had supported the Lady Dee Mawrs objectives, not obviously at least. Then they had wanted to know the single individual whom the band of adventurers was going to follow. That had been a serious error on his part for not listening to briefings regarding Cristiano.

    There was the matter of him leaving the academy for asking too many questions and having a strong personal opinion of the authority of the Church, some of his ideas about the existence of the Fallen Angels and the nature of light and purity magic were close to heretical.

    All news and information of the experiments which had gone on had been entirely suppressed and the records destroyed as far as Henerik knew but he also was aware that Cristiano was a highly intelligent young man looking for his place in the world.

    He had tried to protect the young fool, even though he wasn¡¯t his natural born son his wife loved him deeply and in turn he respected her wishes. He had wanted to form connections with him when he had been a young boy but once Gerdene had explained who her father had been and how his reach was long and could even extend to the Kingdom he had been forced to leave the boy alone.

    An anger deep within filled his stomach but Henerik tried hard to keep it from his face but both of his hands clenched and unclenched as his stomach ached when he considered how he was going to have to explain the matter to his wife Gerdene.

    She hadn¡¯t aged like he had, at least not in appearance and still appeared as a young woman in her early twenties despite giving birth to three children when she had married him and left her original son behind to be raised by their House Servant Alessandro.

    ¡®My Lord, may we have a word regarding the distribution of arms to the Reclaimer Movement? We have many sponsors and would appreciate a moment of your ti-¡¯ said a man who had been waiting along a corridor looking for an opportunity to talk to one of the Lords and Ladies as they departed their meeting room from the palace.

    Rather than have each one directly petitioned in individual audience chambers the Queen had allowed individuals and representatives of key groups within the capital city and the larger kingdom to maintain a presence in the corridors of the palace.

    The man looked and smelled like he had just arrived from the countryside but Henerik knew his face. Despite his lowly position, he was one of the main leaders of the Reclaimer Movement which had petitioned the Church of Light and Purity and the Six Lords and Ladies.

    A political and social force to be considered and he caught me in a bad mood. Reign it in Henerik, he doesn¡¯t deserve your aggression. Not a single person does.

    The entire purpose of the social movement was to enable a larger force to literally take back land in the countryside and beyond for use for cultivation and the establishment of larger settlements outside of the city.

    In that sense they wanted to purchase arms and training for farmers, religious zealots and the dispossessed who wanted opportunity beyond the walls of the city. They recalled parents and grandparents who had fled the countryside during and after the final war with the Dark Lord.

    A good excuse for me to delay talking to Gerdene and breaking the news to her. Unless that is, she already knows and is simply waiting for me outside. She always was more intelligent than me.

    ¡®Hold. One of you stay with me while another finds us a suitable room to have a discussion. I think I can help you if you do me a favour in return. A discount for such a worthy cause of the blessed Goddess Aliza could be achieved but I¡¯d like to have an honest and worthwhile discussion. Are we in agreement Master Bosques? I know your name and profession well enough.¡¯ said Henerik as he crossed his arms over his tunic and glared at the man with a wry smile.

    Any excuse indeed.

 Book 1 Ch 23: Song of a Fallen Angel

    ¡®¡­.Oh, my dear Ursula, Ursula, Ursula, Oh, my dear Ursula, Everything''s gone!

    Papa is gone, Mama is gone, Brother and Sister are gone, Everything''s gone, Ursula!

    Oh, my dear Ursula Everything''s dead!¡¯

    Queen Averill and her bodyguard Sara Lightborne had come to what she had called the Orphanage of Brightness and Wellbeing. She was crouched down in front of a young woman barely older than eighteen who was sitting on a luxurious carpeted floor surrounded by various wooden children¡¯s toys and books.

    Despite the fact that both of them are entered the room and were clearly visible the woman sat on a patch of carpet and continued to rock back and forth staring into space as she continued to sing the children¡¯s song. Queen Ferberg knew it from her youth when the plague of corruption had hit the countryside and the capital city before the power of the Goddess Aliza rose to its full peak.

    More than her own noble parents had died in the final revenge of the Dark Lord as corruption magic had been unleashed and soldiers, baggage handlers and other support was killed. They had been difficult times for all of them but thankfully over the last fifteen years she had been able to largely recover her kingdom from its previously desperate and dying state.

    Bless the Goddess Aliza. Bless me as well as long as I¡¯m not a heretic. The Head of the Church as a heretic. A shame the Goddess doesn¡¯t talk much. Or a blessing.

    She was dressed in a dirty robe which hadn¡¯t been cleaned for a few days and there was a smell from her which told the Queen that she needed bathing as soon as possible. Signs of damage to the robe were evident as bare patches of her skin was visible, light magic crackled and her feet were entirely bare. She wore no socks, no slippers on her feet as she continued her rocking motion back and forwards.

    Queen Averill gave a look at her bodyguard Sara but the woman, as usual was expressionless except for a single tear which ran down her face. Doubtless she was experiencing her own heartbreak or her own terrible memories deep within her were flooding her mind.

    The Queen considered whether it had been a mistake to bring her along but she knew that her bodyguard would not leave her side no matter what orders she gave. In a way she was more like a younger sister or a daughter who both protected and needed comfort from an older sister figure.

    The appearance of the young woman caused the Queen¡¯s lips to purse tightly. She was the sole ruler of both the Kingdom and the Church of Light and Purity and she fully expected her orders carried out. The present state of the young woman was a cause for concern as she examined her physical form.

    Not from an overuse of power. Accidental but I gave clear instructions to take care of her immediate needs as necessary. Questions are necessary. She isn¡¯t thin though but a little wan in her cheeks. A distraction could snap her out of it.

    An ornate box had been placed next to her with script unfamiliar to those living in her Kingdom of Nurburg but would have been immediately recognised by Ren and Maxton Ge. They had given it to her as a small diplomatic gift after all in her role as Queen and Head of the Church.

    I have little use for gifts but I know who would appreciate it more. My beautiful Fallen Angels, my lost sons and daughters betrayed by a religion which was meant to protect them from the evils of corruption.

    Stained glass windows high up on the walls allowed the sunshine and air to flow into the large room. There was sufficient space for dozens of people and the room had been especially chosen by Queen Ferberg for its position within her palace. Close enough for her to frequently visit and high enough to be protected from external threats.

    No cultist or corrupted would be able to climb the outside walls and even if they did breach the room they would be destroyed by a Fallen Angel.

    Once we had more than this. Far more. The process which created them is failing them. I¡¯m not going to make more, not even improved ones. The children of the kingdom have suffered enough. Do you hear me Goddess? Do you even understand me? They were made in your image. No more.

    The room was beautifully decorated with paintings of images of the Goddess Aliza, various animals, the clouds, sun and stars. Small trees resplendent with fruit inside green pots were scattered around the room.

    There were guards stationed on the door but they kept their distance and held their position. Both of them were armed with nets and thick gloves and small wooden cudgels.

    ¡®Ursula. Do you know me? Do you remember Sara? We¡¯ve come to visit, you don¡¯t have to work today. I promise you, today is a special holiday. Look, we¡¯ve even brought you a present, a special toy from a far away land. I think you¡¯ll enjoy it!¡¯ said Queen Averill.

    The young woman had pure white hair and skin that remained youthful except for her hands, they were worn and the skin was stretched.

    ¡®¡­...Oh, my dear Ursula. Everything¡¯s gone! Gone¡­.all gone. Papa is¡­.mama is¡­

    Gone. Gone Wrong. All gone wrong. Where is he¡­.where is he..¡¯ said the young woman.

    The Queen was angry. She been had occupied with her duties she knew but she should have been informed immediately once one of the orphaned children who had been experimented on in private by the Church of Light and Purity and those who survived the process and become known as Fallen Angels had reached this state.

    Punishment and truth are necessary. Even if she could create a human bonfire she deserves support. Poor thing.

    The smell of freshly baked goods, fruit and spiced buttermilk wafted from the room. On the side of the room there was a large table covered in various food and drinks which were freshly prepared three times a day and delivered hot and fresh from the kitchens of the palace.

    Queen Averill turned her gaze to her bodyguard, who was stood silently with an expressionless face directly next to her in her silver armour with one hand on the hilt of her sword.

    ¡®Sara. Go and bring one of the guards by the door next to me, do it with haste and no need to be gentle. I¡¯m not in a mood. Please.¡¯ said the Queen as she crouched down and gently stroked one pale cheek of the young woman¡¯s face.

    ¡®Ursula. Who are you looking for? Would you like your gift? A present for you alone to share with your friends if you like. Remember, today is a holiday. A special holiday. Do you want to see what I bought you?¡¯ Asked the Queen softly.

    The young woman shook her head as her face showed signs of pain but she stopped rocking for a moment and clarity filled her eyes once more as she sat back and crossed her legs.

    ¡®A toy? A special toy?¡¯ she said. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    The Queen pulled out a box which had been next to her and opened it to reveal a shining bright bird made entirely of different types of metal. She took it out of the box and set it on the floor before she pressed on its wing and the bird hopped once and began to sing.

    The bright chirps of the bird echoed around the large room drawing the attention of the two guards who stood to attention as they realised that the Queen¡¯s personal bodyguard, Lady Lightborne was approaching both of them.

    ¡®A special toy, I have been told that it¡¯s alive in it¡¯s own way. If it breaks it dies but you won¡¯t hurt it will you? If you drop something hard on it then the poor bird can no longer sing or jump or be happy anymore. Promise me you¡¯ll take good care of it, after all this bird belongs to you now.¡¯ said Queen Averill.

    A sound rang out from the back of the room by the main door which was guarded by the two soldiers as it was quickly silenced. Then an armoured body clattered to the floor along with a pair of swords as a muffled shout rang out.

    Good. The guards have been too lax in their protection of my Fallen Angels. A little shock will do them some good.

    The young woman gazed up at the Queen as she knelt on both her knees before picking up the metal bird gingerly in both hands and admiring it. The skin of both her hands flickered and sparks shifted onto the bird but it continued to sing in birdsong before it stopped and settled down in the palms of the young woman.

    For a second the haze from her eyes cleared as she looked at the Queen, recognition clear in her eyes and her age and maturity caught up to her. Her tone of voice changed as she became less confused and more focused.

    ¡®Your Majesty. I am thankful for your gift. I¡¯m sorry, some days are harder than others. I think...I think I haven¡¯t eaten any food today. My stomach is painful. The bird is so beautiful, High Priest Kant would love it. May I show it to him?¡¯ said Ursula.

    Behind her a scrape of metal on stone before it hit the red carpet that was spread over most of the cold stone floors of the room indicated to the Queen that her bodyguard had done her duty. She raised a hand in the air, halting her before crooking a finger at a side of the room, underneath one of the stained glass windows. Lady Lightborne recognised the gesture and picked up the guard in one hand, lifting him high above the ground before she marched over to the side and roughly dumped him off the floor before placing one armoured boot on the leg of the man. Then she shook her head and put a single gloved finger to her lips before she pointed at the young woman.

    The guard was shaking, his body nervous and uncertain before he nodded repeatedly and pushed himself backwards until his back was against the wall and wrapped his arms around himself.

    Out of the corner of her eye Queen Averill saw the trembling guard. Sara had that effect on people she knew, those that hadn¡¯t been in close proximity with her for a long time. She was one of the only true successes that had come out of the insane projects which had killed hundreds of young children.

    Her body was in essence filled with and stored the power of the Goddess but was unable to release it, it made her faster, stronger and she was able to heal from most physical wounds. Emotionally she was lacking but she was always aware of where she was and what she was.

    Forcing the rising anger in her stomach at the priests and priestesses who thought that trying to turn parent-less children into angels of a Goddess she made a genuine smile appear on her face.

    What kind of Goddess allows children to be warped into such a fashion? None of them considered the consequences of when they grew up. Poor girl.

    ¡®Ursula. High Priest Kant is dead. I killed him personally. He was one of those who authorised the experiments on you and all the others from the orphanages in the city without my permission. Do you remember being rescued? I was younger then and naive and I will not forgive myself for not paying closer attention but he¡¯s dead. Thankfully, him and the others. I¡¯m sorry sweetheart. Why don¡¯t you show it to Haraldr when he returns? He¡¯s working at the moment but he¡¯ll be back and delighted to see it. Just keep it close to you, I have another present for him. A special one he¡¯ll enjoy but it¡¯s a surprise. I think that you should try to eat and drink something. Can you please excuse me for a moment? I need to talk to one of the guards who keeps you safe, then we can arrange for some servants to help you eat, drink and give you a thorough hot bath. Oh, and your little bird can learn tricks. You can even try and feed him crumbs if you like.¡¯ said Queen Averill.

    Ursula had ceased to pay attention to her words or even her presence as she swiftly rose up to the tips of her toes with surprisingly strength and agility as light magic boosted up upright. Her hands remained clutching the bird as she half-skipped, half-floating across to the table full of fresh food and drink.

    Queen Averill was pleased to see the young woman take sips of a mug of buttermilk and take a bite of freshly baked bread before she dropped crumbs into the small bouncing metal bird held in her hands.

    Both the esteemed diplomatic visitors from the Celestial Kingdom had promised her that the metal construct would operate similar to a real bird and adapt to an individuals needs and desire to the limit of its capacity. Queen Averill considered that despite all of the authority at her fingertips and the sheer amount of energy she could channel from the Goddess Aliza she still failed to ensure the happiness of a young, broken woman whom she needed to continue working until she burnt out.

    Pushing her own armoured glove to the floor, she refused to access her own near-unlimited reserves of Light and Purity magic, letting her body do the work as her knees creaked a little.

    Be happy Ursula. Even for another day. We¡¯ll need you soon. I¡¯m sorry for that but we need your power.

    Her bodyguard had remained by the side of the room watching over the remaining guard. Queen Averill noticed that the other was splayed on the floor, her own enhanced senses told her in less time than she blinked that he was alive and unhurt but had knocked unconscious with a pulse of energy.

    He would recover in a few hours. Those on his shift would immediately recognise his absence and dispatch additional solders to guard the room of Fallen Angels. If not then they would have another visit from their Queen and her bodyguard to ensure obedience.

    When the young woman was occupied Queen Averill looked at the guard sitting on the floor with his back to the wall and decided that a display of raw power was in order. She didn¡¯t need to physically threaten him though, she knew that most men excluding her husband would resort to physical violence to prove a point.

    All I need is a little presence and a little flare. Sara did a decent job of not hurting him but neither did she show weakness. I could crush his bones into dust, turn his limbs to ash but what for?

    Judging the distance between them, the Queen vanished in a burst of light and reappeared immediately in front of the guard as Lady Lightborne pushed down harder with her armoured boot on his leg to stop his sudden movement.

    ¡®Hello soldier. I need an explanation of why one of my Fallen Angels has become so neglected today. She hasn¡¯t eaten or drunk anything, nobody has given a bath and her robe is visibly damaged. I don¡¯t care if you think it¡¯s the job of the servants. Your role is to protect and inform. There are two of you stationed here for good reason. I¡¯m going to ask nicely this time. Will you obey your Queen and the Chosen of the Goddess Aliza?¡¯ said the Queen as the man trembled before her.

    She would have answers regarding the care of her precious Fallen Angels.

 Book 1 Ch 24: The Truth of a Heretic

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    ¡®Heresy. You speak heresy of the Goddess Aliza. Corruption is within this room. Within you.¡¯ said Cris as he involuntary rose to his feet as the hand of Maxton Ge tried to grab hold of his noble clothing.

    He shrugged off the weak attempt to hold him and despite the ache within and his own inability to access his own priest in training powers he still had sufficient combat training and he grabbed hold of both of the knives in the bracer which had been gifted to him.

    Whether or not he could channel light energy into the blades didn¡¯t matter if they were magical in nature and possessed a poison on them.

    ¡®Master Cifesborn, sit down. We have additional students approaching and believe me, one of them does not need to be more antagonised then they already are. I have tolerated your behaviour, your lack of respect and shown you nothing but kindness and support but you are inside my building, my place of operations and you will sit down and listen. High Priest Schmidt is here through my authority and that of your regent, the Queen herself. Put your blades away.¡¯ said Lady Joanne Dee Mawr as she kept her back straight and her attention entirely on the front of the room where High Priest Schmidt was gazing at his former student with a forlorn look on his face.

    Footsteps echoed through the open double doorway. Where the construct Ren had simply thrown them open, almost smashing them off their hinges sound was clearly audible as others approached the mock classroom.

    With his magical senses restricted Cris sought to tell the difference with the type of movements they were making. One was being half-dragged and the others were walking with strength enough that their footsteps were causing audible noise on the wooden floor even from this distance.

    I know that noise. I know those footsteps.

    A part of Cris deep, deep within him called out to the potential of having minions. Soldiers and monsters at his command. Allies to fight for and with. An adventure required more than one person. If he couldn¡¯t fight then others could.

    The sensation was both familiar and strange to him, it had been the deep part of him which had continued to ask questions, the part which questioned authority. The part which wanted to challenge.

    Maxton Ge had placed both feet up on the empty table on front of him, resting both arms behind his head smiling as his golden eyes flickered. With a small kick he knocked over the books and writing materials on the table on front which caused a small sound in the silence of the classroom.

    ¡®Ah No-Name Person, this takes me back to my old school days. Would you believe that my tutor was a Master of the Eight Snake Style? He broke half the bones in my body for talking back to him once in class. Of course the fact that I killed his precious snake collection and drank their five-hundred year old poison blood to recover was my own revenge. Go on then, stop the fight or don¡¯t. I want to see how those broken gene-bonded partial-superhumans fare against you. Or I might even join the fun. Oh dear, I believe your mission parameters are in conflict. Construct. Whatever will you do? I haven¡¯t had this much fun since I left the Jianghu.¡¯

    The construct Ren had stood up at the front of the classroom unmoving, one hand had been brought up in into the shape of a closed fist while another grasped for a weapon that wasn¡¯t there. The golden robes of the construct with a single tear flowed without any wind propelling movement.

    A deep sigh came from the front of the room as High Priest Schmidt raised his arms and bellowed out words.

    ¡®PRAISE THE BLESSED GODDESS. HER LIGHT SHINES UPON US AND PROTECTS US FROM THE HATRED INFLICTED ON US. MAY SHE SMITE ME DOWN AND BURN MY SOUL IF I SPEAK FALSEHOODS IN HER BLESSED NAME. BLESS HER REPRESENTATIVE IN OUR KINGDOM, BLESS THE QUEEN AND HER HUSBAND AND THEIR NOBLE REPRESENTATIVES. BLESS THOSE WHO DOUBT US AND BLESS THE HERETICS WHO CAN SPEAK TRUTH TO FALSEHOOD!¡¯

    The loudness and sheer volume of the rotund man caught the attention of Cris as light and purity energy crackled off lectern and the wood began to crack and shards of broken wood drifted to the floor.

    A semi-transparent bubble enclosed the man before the alchemical lights illuminating the room dimmed for a moment and then various random ones burst apart, shattering as the mixture of glass metal and liquid contained within fell on the floor.

    A creak came from the open doorway as a bare long nailed hand reached into the door frame and broke through the damaged hinges holding the door. The fact that was the hand was on fire was an interesting twist as a deep growl came from a voice which was familiar to Cris, barely though.

    The height of the hand squeezing the door frame was of more concern. Either it was a person crouched down on all fours or someone small enough with a full adult hand. Cris recognised the under-tones of suppressed violence and anger and the hand which had tinges of faint purple lines running along it.

    He sheathed both daggers back into the leather bracelet on his arm and settling a hand out on his chair breathed a breath he didn¡¯t know he had been holding and took a deep intake filling his lungs with air.

    ¡®Richtson. Of course it is. And Marley and Agnes aren¡¯t far behind. The rest of your so-called students. Am I the only normal one who¡¯s been forced into this situation? Augmented, a construct, a vampire, a woman who can change her face and a High Priest of the Goddess with heretical views. Of course.¡¯ said Cris as he began laughing deeply as he dropped back into his chair and tears began to roll down his face.

    The laughter came from deep within and simply didn¡¯t stop as the young man began to lose control and cry.

    ¡®And what about Alessandro? Why not bring a retired assassin into the mix as well? Or a cultist? Or a demon?¡¯ continued Cris as he began to lose control of his voice and break down.

    Next to him Maxton Ge and Lady Joanne appeared for once uncertain over what action to take. Ren had remained frozen in his position although High Priest Schmidt had look of concern on his face as he remembered that they were

    A voice called out from beyond the doorway. This time Cris knew it with certainty

    ¡®Richtson. Your little joke scared our contracted noble. Stand and walk like a normal soldier or I¡¯ll break a leg and you¡¯ll be limping for a week. Sergeant Marley. You will secure the room and protect our client from his distress. I will enter into close engagement with him. We have an issue to resolve.¡¯ said Agnes as she strode through the door kicking a hunched over figure onto the main wooden floor of the mock classroom with more than a little force.

    As the figure fell forwards a distance his hood came undone to reveal a young feminine looking man with a slender face, flowing curly locks of brown hair and bright green eyes. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    He wore a single earring and his eyes were darkened as though he hadn¡¯t slept in some time. Cris saw him glance around the room, as his face reddened a little as the figures of Ren, High Priest Schmidt, Maxton Ge and Lady Joanne simply stared at him.

    When the young man saw Cris with his continuous laughter and tears of sadness coming down his face his face hardened as both his legs dug into the floor, causing the wood beneath to break and he leaped at Cris in a single bound.

    A rush of air passed by his face when Cris saw that the construct Ren had moved in front of him blocking the approaching young man with one golden robed arm held in front and Maxton Ge had grabbed Cris from behind pulling him down to the immediate back wall of the mock classroom.

    [Order priority override engaged. You will not touch Young Master Cristophen. Designate: Cris, is to be protected. Disease Master you will ensue his emotional state is settled. Assume rest of room is hostile until Lady Joanne Dee Mawr instructs otherwise. Recall your desire to enter Mount Penglai. You will obey and act accordingly.]

    From their position at the back of the mock classroom Cris blinked through tears in his eyes as the deep laughter and bout of madness and frustration that had struck him had begun to settle.

    A hand settled over his face as his nose was pinched and a small pill was crushed and forced inside his mouth as a gas released and he was forced to breath it. Immediately his mind began to clear as his heart rate decreased to normal and Cris realised that he had experienced a minor emotional breakdown in front of others.

    The experiences over the past day had been too much for him to handle. The gas which filled his lungs relaxed his muscles and made his own head clear although his eyes and body ached.

    A warm arm lay on his as a strong scent filled the entire room, far stronger than it had been previously as those within relaxed their tensed up muscles and breathed easier. Cris was aware by now that Lady Joanne Dee Mawr was using the same incense drug which relaxed a person¡¯s mind and forcefully caused them to drift off.

    Unless it was actually part of her natural abilities but at this point he had no reason to complain. As a young noble he was meant to be a representative of his class within the social structures of the city.

    His education as a trainee-priest reinforced the values of keeping calm and a clear head in most situations. Folk who had watched their own family become corrupted and needed to be taken away for either treatment or if they were too far gone to the asylum on the mountain for safekeeping. People needed to be reassured and losing control of his own emotions and mental state had gone entirely against that. In short he was both humiliated and ashamed.

    Before he could open his mouth to apologise for his actions he was cut short when Lady Joanne Dee Mawr walked to the centre of the room, one hand holding a small incense burner emitting purple style, sweet-smelling smoke. She let it swing in her hand allowing the smell to fill build up inside the mock classroom.

    ¡®For the moment it appears that our lecture has been interrupted. High Priest Schmidt, introductions are in order. Please greet your three new students and task them to take their own seat as I see to your previous charge and his two new friends. The young become overtired so easily. Don¡¯t you agree? I¡¯m trying to calm down a tense situation. Captain Geisslerg you will instruct your newly healed member of your squad to stand down and take a seat. The same for Sergeant Marley who thinks he being clever by trying to approach from the hidden side room.¡¯

    Maxton Ge put both arms under Cris¡¯s armpits and lifted him up, careful not to touch his main body before he brushed imaginary dust off his shoulder and upper back. Then the golden eyed man stepped back and took a seat down at his table before picking up the book he had been writing his strange chicken-scratches in

    The room tensed up for a moment before High Priest Schmidt at the front of the room dropped a large book from the lectern onto the floor with deliberate purpose with a loud crash.

    ¡®Oops. Forgive an old man for his clumsy fingers. Cris, I¡¯d like your help at the front here to organise my lecture notes a little. You can let him go now Disease Master. I do like your title, wish the Queen would give me one of my own. Cris, come here quickly boy. My lecture notes aren¡¯t going to organise themselves.¡¯

    Inside the room the construct Ren had observed the young feminine looking man back off after giving a strong look at him as he simply nodded at Cris and tried to give a smile although it came off wrong as though he was out of practice.

    He bounded across the room, barely touching the floor as he moved directly behind Agnes and stood to attention behind her. She looked at the incense burner that Lady Joanne Dee Mawr was holding before she tore off three long strips of her own robe revealing her armour and weapons underneath and wrapped one around her mouth and nose before handing the other to Richter.

    The last piece she kept in her hand before she glanced at Cris and signalled with a hand as Sergeant Marley seemingly emerged from the wall through a hidden door as he squeezed into the room sideways.

    The augmented soldier signalled back before he took a seat in the middle of the room and waited for both Agnes and Richter to join him as they awkwardly tried to use the writing materials and hold the paper blank books gingerly.

    Lady Joanne Dee Mawr held the incense censer in her hand as she swung it lightly before flicking a catch and the smoke that had been drifting out of it immediately stopped flowing into the room. Then she left it on a nearby table next to a blank book and headed towards the doorway as she called out instructions to unseen staff.

    ¡®Prepare refreshments and ask someone to fix this door. The lack of privacy is beginning to annoy me. Another lectern will need to be brought in as well. Forget it, we¡¯ll just move to another room. Prepare an inner chamber for our use immediately.¡¯ said Lady Joanne Dee Mawr as she turned her gaze towards the occupants of the room.

    Except for Cris and High Priest Schmidt who were standing at the lectern at the front as the older man had placed a hand on the shoulder of the younger and made several gestures as he kept his voice low and used his own magical abilities to restrict any eavesdroppers the others were all seated.

    Sometimes, Lady Joanne Dee Mawr was glad she could change her face. Her expression was hard to read at the best of times but presently her original plan needed changing. The augmented were meant to have arrived earlier and the degree of feedback from the young man when she had forcefully settled and dampened his emotions from his earlier experienced has clearly failed.

    He had simply gone through too much, not had the support of his grandfather or a familiar enough figure and not had a chance to rest. Part of it was his relative youth and naive innocence about the world. Only a bare two weeks ago he had been inside the safe comfortable environment of the Academy of Purity surrounded by those his age.

    Brushing a hand over her face and keeping her back to the rest of the room Lady Joanne Dee Mawr changed her facial features once more within seconds. The fact that her esteemed visitors from the Celestial Empire had protected him would count for far more than even the young man realised.

    If he actually knew the level of their nobility he would have been surprised. As it was, she needed damage control and to move quickly with her plans. The Council of Six would be informing the Queen shortly of their lack of financial support most likely and she needed a core crew for the mission at hand.

    After her face had been changed into that more similar to the features of Ren and Maxton Ge she heel-turned and clapped her hands together in the style of a head mistress as she called for attention from unruly students.

    ¡®We leave for another, more secure and suitable room for a lecture. This one has proved unsuited for purpose. Refreshments of various types will be available for all present students. Come now, time waits for no woman.¡¯

 Book 1 Ch 25: Inner Sanctum

    ¡®Calm down Cris. You¡¯ve entered a state of shock from an overwhelming of experience and an overexertion of both your body and soul. Here, lean on me for a moment. We can consider that the items in this room will be soon removed. The health of one of the faithful is always worth more than worthless books, papers and maps. Wait a second, I¡¯ve got something that should help.¡¯ said High Priest Schmidt as he rummaged through his robes.

    Presently Cris was at the front of the mock lecture room as robed figures entered and began removing parchment, used and blank books and any writing materials. His senses remained dazed and his eyes glanced at the closed incense censer used by Lady Joanne before she had exited the mock classroom to instruct her servants to clear the room and prepare another.

    Those inside the mock classroom had formed into smaller groups as they waited for further instructions after being told that they would be entering a more suitable room for another lecture.

    The construct Ren with his torn golden robe and Maxton Ge were in the back of the room. Both of the books they had been writing in had been taken and stored away in the same magic storage place in which the construct had given Cris his own items.

    The three augmented had formed themselves a short distance from Cris but not close enough to encroach on him. Besides Agnes giving him a single wink she otherwise showed a look of extreme boredom on her face. Sergeant Marley had taken as much minor writing equipment as he could stuff into his own robes inside hidden pockets and was presently tapping at the wooden walls of the mock classroom for further hidden entrances with a small hand axe held tight in one grip.

    The last group was himself and High Priest Schmidt whom he was presently leaning on as a gentle use of light energy from the older rotund man helped calm him and reduce his emotional range. Cris had never mastered the trick as it was usually for graduate priests and priestesses to use but he was thankful for it.

    He half-muttered his thanks and a small flask was pushed into his hand as High Priest Schmidt grabbed it from within his robes and uncapped it.

    ¡®Perfect. Buttermilk. Alcohol doesn¡¯t help much when you¡¯ve had a surge of light magic infused into your body. I¡¯m surprised that your skin hasn¡¯t dried up and you can express that much emotion given the relative damage. I never taught you to build up a charge within your own body unless under desperate circumstances. The Goddess wants us to live, enough martyrs have already died under her watch. Not from one so young with so much potential in life. Ah, I think we¡¯re ready to move on now. That young lady over there, well, she¡¯s a bit older than you appears to be familiar with you and the young man with the curly hair and pretty face keeps staring at you. I will admit Cris, out of all of my students you were the most boring. Look at you now, set up for a life of adventure. Not quite what you imagined, that Head Servant of yours should be here to take care of you. Not a fat old man like me. Come, lean on me a little longer and you¡¯ll be alright, you can finish off the flask, it¡¯s fresh and untouched¡¯ said High Priest Schmidt.

    Shaking his head and taking another deep drink from the flask, Cris did feel better. There had been a part of him which he was unfamiliar with which had called to him to gain control, to order others but he discounted it as mere hysteria.

    ¡®Thank you Ser.¡¯ said Cris as he forced the words out of shivering teeth. He didn¡¯t mention the pill with gas that filled his lungs which Maxton Ge had provided him.

    As the three groups held together a commanding voice called out as Lady Joanne Dee Mawr appeared. She had changed her clothing Cris noticed, in such a short space of time to an imitation robe of a High Priestess. There were minor alterations done such as the hood over her head had a veil covering her face this time but he wasn¡¯t keen on her face changing act.

    Having experienced it closely once he had little interest in examining why her face held bonded corruption but the rest of her body remained the same. The room was full on enough interesting individuals that Cris had enough to deal with presently. The fact that they were going to enter another room for a lecture was the main thing on his mind, that and trying not to lean on his old lecturer for too long.

    ¡®Please follow me. We have a more...secure location which requires privacy. This entire room will be emptied and all traces removed, burnt and disposed of. Any notes you might have taken will need to be brought of destroyed. For the purposes of security, the threat of cultists and outside powers is stronger than you think. No offence to our esteemed guests from the Celestial Empire of course.¡¯ said Lady Joanne Dee Mawr as she inclined her head towards them as her priestess robes billowed outwards as her hands met in prayer.

    The silence which followed as they entertained Cris was refreshing to say the least. All he wanted was to reverse his last day and night and agree with his Head Servant Alessandro. The fact that he hadn¡¯t seen the man who considered himself his adoptive grandfather in some time wasn¡¯t too concerning but Cris would ask Lady Joanne Dee Mawr when they arrived at their destination.

    The old man had given him clear warning not to trust the woman and although both the Augmented trio, the at least the construct Ren were under clear instructions or had formed a loose contract for the former he didn¡¯t actually know why they wanted him safe. High Priest Schmidt he knew to be a devout follower but his earlier words of near-heresy were shocking. The rotund man had never spoken that way before. Not even a single negative rumour had passed the ears of Cris regarding the man and his faith.

    He had been a priest in training only and a minor noble with limited resources. Unless they wanted him for his mother and the connection with her present husband than he had no real clue.

    A massive amount of resources is being spent and I¡¯m no closer to finding out why.

    All of the individuals entered the same corridor but the alchemical lights which had previously lit further down had been entirely extinguished and only a single doorway was lit up.

    Cris wanted to ask but a squeeze from High Priest Schmidt as the man held a tight grip under his arm keeping him steady along with a barely-noticeable shake from the beard of the man made him keep his mouth shut.

    Clearly they wanted silence and gave it in turn. As the doorway was opened Cris was surprised see the walls and floors were made entirely of white marble with black streaks running through it. At the front was a small platform, raised above the ground and a statue of the Goddess Aliza.

    A series of stone benches that had been built of the same type of white marble formed the back of the room with a suitable distance between them. On the ceiling a single massive alchemical light burnt with an intensity which reminded Cris of the image of the Goddess Aliza as she hung in the air above her own temple illuminating a large part of the capital city during the day and dimming at night.

    ¡®Welcome to my Inner Sanctum. All materials for writing, taking notes, recording on any form and that includes cutting yourself and writing on your skin or clothing are banned. Nothing inside this room is to be repeated outside and will only be provided inside. While we will have several other fellow students joining us we may repeat previously covered discussion but only in this room. If any of you are questioned by one of the Six Lords and Ladies, myself, the Queen, her husband the King-Consort or any other High ranking noble you will tell them that you entered this building into a normal classroom. Am I clear on this affair?¡¯ said Lady Joanne as she strode to the front platform and stood there with arms in prayer. Her veil shifted again but Cris knew that seeing her face inside this place was a bad idea. His eyes shifted to the statue of the Goddess Aliza, her features plain but it captured the intensity within her eyes.

    To imitate the likeness of her using living flesh would be something he couldn¡¯t bear to see.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡®Sit down and each of you will talk. This room is for shared discussion, here we are equals, each with her own perspective of the world we live in. You may share as much or as little as you prefer for a given topic. All will follow the same rules of time, respect and listening. To make it simple, when I stand here you will listen. When I move away I will listen. Captain Agnes, you will ensure the doors are closed once one more student arrives. A Master Alessandro. Sergeant Marley, you will check the doors for leakage of sound. Richter. Sit there and look pretty. The rest of you sit and pay attention. Time isn¡¯t on our side and the cost of imbuing this place cost me a large chunk of my budget. Thankfully it will remove the need to relieve yourself and reduce the desire for food and drink. Maxton Ge, your turn. The topic is yourself and your interest in the our Kingdom of Nurburg. Keep it short.¡¯ said Lady Joanne.

    Cris took his own seat on a carved marble bench, despite the materials it was built off there was a sense of warmth coming from it. He placed his bare hand and felt the protection of the Goddess imbued within. The holiness from this simply stone was similar to that he had seen in select areas within the Academy of Purity, the energy involved and the number of priests and priestesses needed to store it within was hard for him to calculate.

    Captain Agnes stood by the door with a face still showing clear signs of boredom. Out of the other two Augmented, the one called Richter was sitting uncomfortably close to Cris and Sergeant Marley had a hand placed against the wall as he kept his eyes focused on the front.

    Ren hadn¡¯t chosen to taken a seat and the entire lack of movement, except for his life-like painted features and golden robe would have caused Cris to assume the construct was simply a statue placed into the room for storage. He handed back the now empty flask of buttermilk to High Priest Schmidt with a smile as the older man applied light magic on it and reduced it into dust which he brushed off his robes.

    Maxton Ge leaped onto the small platform at the front.

    ¡®Hello. My bodyguard is called Ren. He doesn¡¯t have a name. We travelled an extremely long distance from the Celestial Empire out of curiosity and the opportunity to eliminate long term threats. A trader from a bordering kingdom to yours, one of the three surrounding you, talked to one of our merchants travelling far away and gave interesting news of a magical disease which destroyed armies. Even if it was exaggerated the Immortal Celestial Emperor in his wisdom took me from my Jianghu prison and gave me a task. To find and help eliminate this threat. Ren is both my bodyguard and executioner. If I fail I die. If I succeed we both return and I am rewarded. Our travels took us several years walking here although Ren carried me for a large part of that. We fought off monster and bandits but I prefer the taste of them back home. We did have to fight our way through a barbarian army once but I took on the title of an Elder of the Tribe and started a plague or two to enable them take a few cities in their path. Taking cities is a tricky thing¡­.oh and Ren and I are here to assist Cris on this mission. If you want anything further try talking

    The rest of the room gave a minor smattering of applause and Cris considered that the strange man talked a lot but didn¡¯t actually say much. He still had no idea of what the mission was meant to be.

    Sergeant Marley standing by the door shook his head before he took a seat on one of the marble benches away from Cris. He then pulled out a stack of scrip in his had and licked a finger before he flicked through it. to Ren but good luck. Ah, my name is Maxton Confucius Ge but you can call me Disease Master.¡¯

    Despite his apparent lack of interest in the introduction of a clear foreigner who had hailed from an Empire barely known in myth but known exist albeit on maps drawn by traders he looked directly at the man with golden eyes and slapped down a handful of script down on the marble bench next to him.

    Even though his voice was kept low Cris could still audibly hear him as though he didn¡¯t care if he was heard out loud.

    ¡®Stupid winner. Think he knows how to play cards better than me. Even bet me he¡¯d be the first chosen to speak. Stupid fancy game of stones.¡¯ complained Sergeant Marley with a sour look on his face.

    As the man with golden eyes approached him with a hand held out expectantly and stood in front of him, Sergeant Marley reached into his cloak and pulled out even more script which Cris recognised as having belonged to him previously and slapped it in the waiting hand of Maxton Ge.

    ¡®Pleasure doing business with you. Tell you what, how about we run a few tests when we¡¯re done here of the limits of those artificial bits of yours and I¡¯ll return your money three-no four-fold. Nothing that will cause permanent damage and all you have to do is drink a little of one of my own concoctions.¡¯ said Maxton Ge.

    The augmented known as Marley simply sighed and stuck out a hand before he spat on it to shake in agreement.

    The construct Ren had moved swiftly, faster than anyone could visibly see but Cris saw no tell-tale traces of sorcery of magic. The construct in the golden robe was simply on the raised platform at the front when he had been standing at the back, there had been a rush of wind.

    As he stood on the platform the construct took the part of the golden robe which was torn and running it through his fingers ripped it off as it failed to vanish. Frowning, the face of the construct focused once more before his entire head turned around to gaze at the statue of the Goddess Aliza before nodding and returning to normal. Then it ripped off the golden robe and folded it up into a neat bundle before tucking it under one arm.

    [Hello fellow students. I will repeat myself when others come to join our class in the future. My name is Ren. I have yet to earn a true name to be bestowed on me by the Celestial Huangdi, Maxton Ge has spoken true. I have an additional mission to see that Young Master Cristofen is kept safe from immediate threats until he is able to secure the object. If Maxton Ge abuses his host privileges or ambassador status you will inform me and I will punish. I am not human. I was tasked by the Sons and Daughters of Heaven to fulfil my duty and I will do so unless destroyed. Do not try and test me. The augmented are the base skeleton of my entire being.] said Ren as he stood there with another look of concentration on his face as the folded golden robe underneath his arm failed to be stored away with his spatial magic. The tone of the construct was entirely flat with a slightly metallic twang which Cris had encountered meeting first within the cultist dungeon underground.

    When it had spoke to him there was an element of emotion there but for now it may have been different from any other basic construct he had seen except for attention to detail on the body, face and eyes and the mobility.

    He¡¯d never heard a construct talking before and the Church of Light and Purity mostly used them to dispense either written words of wisdom or supplies for the poor and destitute as long as they proved faithful to the Goddess.

    [Your Goddess of Energy is impressive. I will consider adding her to a list of minor gods to be worshipped. Perhaps the Celestial Huangdi will even invite her to his court. That is all.]

    A round of enthusiastic applause broke out from High Priest Schmidt who was beaming with delight at both the ability of the statue of the Goddess Aliza to restrict the magical abilities of the construct and the praise that he heaped on.

    Standing up he spoke two odd words which were exactly the same tone and language which Cris had heard Maxton Ge, Ren and Alessandro speak several times. He assumed that they had a positive meaning as the construct smiled deeply, as lifelike features responded and it bowed its head before turning around to bow its head as the statue of the Goddess Aliza and then step off the platform to take a seat on a front row of the marble benches.

    Out of curiosity, Cris wanted to know more about that language. If he even knew a few words in it he could communicate secretly or hidden on some level with people around him. The hand gestures that the augmented used to communicate silently were another form of language he recognised but he had no clue what they were used for and why they didn¡¯t speak clearly.

    His thoughts were interrupted by Lady Joanne Dee Mawr who in her white priestess robes marked with red lines and veil approached the platform and spoke, her voice resounded inside the room with a deep tone. Deeper than all rights she had to given her physical form.

    ¡®I will ask our trio of augmented to talk next but thank you for our present speakers. There is a purpose to this, and do not share any of the information given outside of this room. Even if others talk to you openly about it and show awareness none here will share it. I hope I am clear. I only give warnings one and you all heard my last one. When we have new members of our little group I will give them a private word in advance. I suggest we rest for a moment as the augmented decide how to explain their continued existence and their value to the Goddess Aliza.¡¯ said Lady Joanne Dee Mawr.

 Book 1 Ch 26: Make the Ground Bleed

    Etsuko An¡¯Yu was participating in her first sortie. As least as far as she remembered, she had been killed before before they had left the city and had to largely restart her day again. This time was the furthest that she¡¯d achieved outside of the city but thankfully her presence appeared to do little to change events which had occurred almost exactly as she thought. A calloused hand came to rest near her shoulder before pulling back and the rough voice of the man currently her working partner rang out.

    Estuko knew more about the man than he likely knew about himself but she kept quiet and let him talk. She¡¯d heard plenty of talk of the famous Sergeant Reinhard.

    ¡®We need to head back. The signal has been given, leave the markers on the ground. Good job, I mean I thought you were a baker but you have talent. I¡¯m impressed. Maybe you¡¯d like to come back to my place for dinner? No, not that. I mean my wife taught me how to cook and she likes to show it off. My girls would be happy to meet a new face from work. Right, off we go. Good work Etsuko. Uh, I¡¯m bothering you. Sorry, I talk too much when I¡¯m nervous.¡¯ said the older man.

    And then the King-Consort asks the other two scouts for their reports and receives similar information. Bandits killed in exactly the same manner with a single one of them corrupted and burnt entirely on a makeshift fire. All with the same emblem of the Goddess. He¡¯s meant to think it¡¯s the reclaimer movement but it isn¡¯t.

    ¡®We, uh. Sorry, you¡¯re obviously thinking. Sorry. I¡¯ll give you a bit of time. We¡¯re in no rush. The King just wants us back safe first. Sorry.¡¯ said Sergeant Reinhard as Etsuko walked ahead of the man.

    Despite being behind her and his hand on the sword at his belt he showed no signs of betrayal, he was a simple enough man, as he walked he kept turning his head right to left and occasionally back over his shoulder to check.

    If the young woman in front of him wanted time to think then he¡¯d shut up. His wife would want him to invite her back for dinner though. Or he¡¯d face a tongue-lashing for telling her that someone who kept him from harm was left alone.

    First time is always hardest for the new ones. Not that many choose to stay. I best leave her alone but I¡¯ll watch her back at least. Any lower than that would have my wife leaving me.

    Etsuko lived long enough in one lifetime to even encounter survivors from this sortie who had faced more difficulties than they had been expecting. The King-Consort had come back safely as had the old noble and his twin bodyguards but the Sergeant whom she was walking back to meet the others with had died on that occasion as had a number of the private soldiers and bodyguards.

    Sergeant Reinhard picked up the courage to address the young woman. Perhaps he¡¯d simply been too informal. For all he knew she could be the hidden daughter of one of the Six Lords and Ladies or another High Noble. They tended to protect their progeny and give them decent training to keep them safe.

    ¡®Madam En¡¯Yu. We will wait for the King-Consort to contact us. Good job finding those hidden traps. Saves me a few trips to a healer and we¡¯ve barely got enough extra script on hand to keep paying for injuries. Take a quick breather and we¡¯ll be back to the main group soon. And thank you again for saving my life, I appreciate it and I know my wife back home would too. Are you really a baker?¡¯

    Nodding her head she carried on walking at a slow pace, she¡¯d gained his trust easily and the fact that he¡¯d also been ordered to guard her and keep her safe was an added benefit.

    ¡®I was a baker before I died. Multiple time. Then I burned it down eventually. The fire was well-planned and didn¡¯t spread though. Flour makes such a nice explosive device when kept in an enclosed space¡¯ said Etsuko.

    The look on the older man¡¯s face was uncertain but he took her words in his stride literally as he carried on keeping a careful watch for any immediate threats.

    Etsuko reflected on exactly what she knew was likely going to happen and the fastest and most efficient way to expose those who were presently hiding. Take Sergeant Reinhard for example, a simple man with pure loyalty for the sortie.

    He wouldn¡¯t betray anyone but he remained a creature of habit and the same repetitive actions had made him easy to predict, even easier to set traps for which could incapacitate him and waste a guard sending him back to the city for healing.

    And he likes to talk. Loves his wife and daughters but likes to talk.

    There had been an ambush of sorts involving clever tricks. She had needed to spend a lot of coin in the taverns and even flirt with both the men and women who were familiar with the standing private armed guards of the King-Consort to piece the entire picture.

    When she had most of the information and lacked pieces to make it complete, she had taken kitchen knife from her bakery, gone to the rougher areas of the city and picked fights with gangs until they had killed her and she had woken up to begin her day again.

    Etsuko had repeated the cycle enough times until she had a clue of what was happening. Granted that she had originally started her time as a baker when her parents had vanished in the middle of the night, taken their personal possessions and left her a note begging her not to look for them and to consider that her great-grandmother would have done.

    She wasn¡¯t quite clear if they died, were kidnapped or had planned it for years but realistically it didn¡¯t matter. Strange things happened in her family and being abandoned at the age of twenty when she had the skills, experience and knowledge to run a small side bakery by herself wasn¡¯t the worse.

    Working her way up the gang hierarchy had been an interesting experience but not one that she wanted to repeat. Becoming a minor gang boss and getting her revenge on the two who had extorted money from her bakery and nearly killed her a dozen times over was purely a fantasy.

    After she had began to break apart the stories behind the fiction it turned out that organised crime within the capital city of Nurburg was in fact that. The entire structure was in fact run by one of the Six Lords and Ladies in return for the Queen turning a blind eye and accepting a minor degree of corruption and taking a percentage of the revenue to fund the Church of Purity and Light and public services.

    The Monarch was the head of the crime organisation for a Kingdom. Makes me wonder if the stories my parents told me about my great-grandfather were true after all. Still, the fact that he fell in love with my great-grandmother made a lot of sense. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    A few times she¡¯d had to do things she didn¡¯t favour, such as cutting the throat of an opposing gang member to prove her loyalty to the fabric of the underworld and then hanging up the body outside of a rival gangs headquarters.

    She¡¯d been glad that her body, mind and soul increased in power incrementally each time she died in a combat or fighting situation. It made fighting off the twenty of so thugs a great deal easier when they had found her struggling with the rope trying to lift a dead body of one of their gang members off the ground.

    They¡¯d still killed her with arrows but she¡¯d learn enough that by that point restarting her day on a different time was satisfying enough. Etsuko did wonder why the strange man who had offered her a bowl of hot noodles when she had been nursing a bruised face and fixing up a broken stop had chosen her.

    He had said something about the end of the world and multiple variables keeping it interesting. She was effectively immortal as each time she died in specific combat situations she came back stronger.

    The only issue was that it didn¡¯t work every single time and dying and the experiences she had were beginning to affect her mental judgement a few times. The man with the talking sack had told her that she was on the path to becoming a god through trial and error but it would take her dying around a million times or so to reach that level and bring around the destruction of the planet.

    Yeah. Likely he simply dumped a load of mushrooms into that bowl of noodles and I¡¯ve simply gone insane. Just like my Auntie did when she thought she could build an underwater kingdom. I mean, she did but all of her subjects killed each other from enclosed madness and lack of sunshine.

    After what she experienced of weeks of infiltrator, digging out information and all sorts of methods including working as a contracted street-level spy for the third most dangerous woman in the city. The one who everyone said had no face because she could change herself to be anyone.

    Estuko thought the rumours were simply exaggerated and she probably funded them herself or used lookalikes. But then again, the same rumours called Lady Joanne Dee Mawr a Sorceress of some power. She wasn¡¯t as deadly as the Queen or her bodyguard but her network and reach was long and she was willing to trade coin for information or vice versa.

    Come on older man. Shut up about keeping everyone safe and finally give me a chance to speak my piece. Then I grab a sword and take action and you see the truth that¡¯s being faked right in front of your eyes.

    Etsuko as a relative newcomer was keeping a distance from the King after he received reports from his few scouts and then discussed the next steps with the old noble with a kind heart and twin bodyguards, his personal guards and the priestess who just looked plain tired.

    All that magic stuff must make her tired. Make magic signals for me on request he says and doesn¡¯t even offer her a drink of water. A nice enough man but pretty stupid in some ways. Too naive.

    Outside foreign forces, well-equipped, trained and acting with the support of those inside the Kingdom of Nurburg were planning for a hostile takeover and a massive disruption of the economy.

    Taking out a living Goddess who was otherwise preoccupied fighting back the magical corruption magic of some dead old man was completely out of her league. Even if Etsuko could apparently obtain some massive world-breaking levels of divinity in her own right she doubted that she¡¯d be able to make it that far without going completely insane or entirely losing her humanity.

    I just realised. I have no idea how the gods were created, they simply are. Did they also get offered bowls of fresh noodles? Or, I think I¡¯m getting a little bit crazy myself.

    ¡®Excuse me Madam En¡¯yu. We¡¯ve arrived. I follow my orders as the King himself commands and the blessed Goddess Aliza provides. I think we have a situation ourselves, to be honest with you the last few sorties have been a little strange. Why during the last one we found traces of a campfire where by all rights nobody should have been. I think it¡¯s the Reclaimer Movement, bunch of ex-priest and farmers getting too big for their muddy boots an-¡¯ said Sergeant Reinhard as he carried on talking as Etsuko did her best to appear interested in his conversation.

    He really does like to talk. Calms his nerves. Funny how he cooks when he gets stressed. The tavern rumours and intelligence gathered was worth it after all. Worth my fifth death. Or was it the ninth? I¡¯m beginning to lose track. No wonder great-grandma vanished by herself. Strangeness really does run in our family. Thanks for abandoning your only daughter mum and dad.

    The King-Consort had ordered everyone back, apparently the man had been doing it for so long that when the priestess with him flared a magical ball of light into the air for several seconds before it dissipated everyone paused or finished their duties and returned to the pre-agree meeting point.

    Etsuko and Sergeant Reinhard were back at the pre-arranged meeting point for the King and his sortie. He had been talking to to one of his three mounted scouts, listening to her report explaining some strangeness and then blah, blah, blah.

    If he wasn¡¯t forced to wear that golden armour by his wife as protection then I¡¯d call him a pompous show-off but he does actually seem like a nice guy. Huh. Not that I¡¯d flirt with him. The Queen is a scary, scary woman with a living Goddess flooding her bones with power. Nope.

    And this time she had managed to actually make it in person and overcome the previous hurdles of either being refused, killed on her way there or simply arriving too late and watching the entire sortie leave through the main city-gates for most of the day before they returned with injured.

    Almost time. Almost. There, do it Etsuko. Take the plunge. Not like they can do worse than kill me. I¡¯d just have to ignore my way through the boring bits like the Sergeant talking. There, take the lull in the conversation and say it. Say the words to make them see the truth.

    The King-Consort was finally finishing off his speech about the value of the sortie and the hard work which he appreciated so much. Granted that everyone here except her had likely heard it repeated weekly over a number of years but the shining looks of pride on their faces made it clear that he had charisma. And a wife who was both Queen, Head of the Church and filled with enough power to break down city walls with her bare hands.

    Unless she could fly as well with angelic wings but that¡¯d be overkill. Oh no. Don¡¯t tell me she can see me. Damn it. Time to try it out.

    ¡®¡­.I believe that we are blessed, all of us and your work holds value. Protection of your families, your kingdom and mine and all we hold dear. First we need to establish a clear position to fall back to, then we ca-¡¯ said King-Consort Ulrich before the baker woman strode up closer to him and two swords from his bodyguards were immediately drawn at her exposed throat.

    ¡®Your Majesty. Oh wait, I need to do the knee thing. Or is it a bow? Nah, a knee thing it is. Give me a second¡­..there we go. Your Majesty I know how to find the truth. We just need to do one thing, and I volunteer myself to go first.¡¯ said Etsuko.

    The moment of silence dragged out before the confused King-Consort made a hand signal and his two personal guards pulled back their sword edges away from the neck of the strange baker that had joined them.

    He knew that he was too trusting, but if she had truly meant him harm then his blessed and boosted golden armour would give her a surprise if she did try to hurt him. Taking a leaf from her book, the King-Consort imitated the young woman and went on his knees before he looked at her and smiled. Etsuko knew that the King-Consort was a normal man, but as he aged he craved the excitement and passion of his youth.

    ¡®To everyone in the sortie! We need to make the ground bleed. Trust me. I¡¯ll go first.¡¯ said Etsuko.

 Book 1 Ch 27: Asylum of Light and True Health

    ¡®Sara, do you think I was too strong with them? The Fallen Angels deserve the best treatment and for my sins I allowed their creation when I was caught full of power and politics. The numbers that...I¡¯m sorry. The memories must be painful for you. Out of all them you alone became a viable test subject. Still, I am grateful for your presence. I don¡¯t keep you around out a sense of penance you know! I¡¯m not a flagellant. Goddess, I keep talking. I¡¯m getting old.¡¯ said Queen Averill.

    The guard which Sara had knocked unconscious had regained it to find his comrade and the Queen standing in front of him along with a host of other servants who had been tasked, well-paid and suitably punished for not fulfilling their entire duties.

    Both of them had left the ornately decorated room with additional guards drawn from her personal group. The fact that she had taken so long to actually realise that one of those under her direct care was going unwashed and had been steadily losing weight was entirely her fault she knew but there was only so much time in the day for her to attend duties.

    ¡®You will directly inform me if the servants appointed to this room do not live up to standards. Sara here will guard my personal safety and on no account are any nobility or any from the priesthood allowed to enter this room without my direct permission. I do not care if they claim the blessed Goddess Aliza gave them a holy mission. None will enter this room except for me and Sara alone and you will need to organise a guard rotation. Current standards have dropped a little in my eyes. I know that neither of you will disappoint me.¡¯ said Queen Averill.

    Behind the guards inside the room she saw one of her Fallen Angels, Ursula, happily chatting with the mechanical bird which had been a gift from the Celestial Empire. The expression on her face was well worth the miracle of the gift. They had tried giving the Fallen Angels small animals, dogs and cats but all of them had died, flash frozen and turned into white dust due to their inability to control their power. She would eventually break the bird or what was powering it would stop and e would be upset but it gave her someone to talk to and maintain her integrity as a human being for just a little bit longer. Animals were scared of those with Light Magic, at least when it had been boosted to levels which no human could bear. Horses had been adapted of course but other smaller animals displayed open hostility or fear.

    Humans were a different affair. They were not as affected directly unless they remained in direct contact or had been sufficiently corrupted that they would catch fire and burn. Or their bodies would simply break apart in chunks as the deep ingrained Light Magic built into the very cells of the Fallen Angels would remove all traces of corruption.

    ¡®To be scared is understandable but these rumours that my Fallen Angels can kill with a single glance are wrong. Well, they¡¯re not for those who have been corrupted beyond redemption but for ordinary folk, for those under the protection of the Goddess Aliza and myself they have little to fear aside from headaches and nosebleeds as most. I do not demand obedience, I ask for clarity and understanding even to you, my most loyal. Will you instruct the servants and take pity on those who sacrifice their minds to keep our city safe and cleansed from within?¡¯ said the Queen.

    Both of the guards dressed entirely in white armour, not as ornate or as expensive as the type which the Queen¡¯s bodyguard, Sara Lightborne, wore but still imbued with the power of the Goddess simply bowed their heads and as one turned and entered the room.

    With a smile on her face Queen Averill saw one of the guards approach the table with food and took a small plate with a piece of bread and spoke softly to Ursula before placing it on the floor and bowing.

    Those who are truly faithful will believe in the plan of the Goddess. They will believe in my plan. All I do is for the sake of this kingdom.

    The Queen turned her attention to her bodyguard as they left the secure room behind them and walked through the corridors of her palace keeping her bearing regal and her footsteps slow and precise as passing servants bowed to them and she responded with a bright smile.

    ¡®Sara. Do you have an idea exactly why the servants were so hesitant? They should have been paid a fine wage and their families supported with housing within the halls of the palace itself. Those two guards as well, their lack of understanding is a failure on my part but also for those who employed them in the first place.¡¯ said Queen Averill.

    Her bodyguard was deep in though, although her facial expressions had taken time to decipher when the Queen had first rescued her from a single child alive in piles of corpses which were due to be incinerated to hide the experiments which the early form of the Church of Light had been conducting.

    Over time, the Queen had tried her best to both befriend and raise her. What she saw on her face at the present was anger mixed in with other emotions. Likely, when she had first seen Ursula singing it had brought back traumatic memories. Old, unrepressed ones which the Queen had encouraged her bodyguard to talk about but never for her own interest. Only when she had felt entirely prepared to discuss.

    ¡®I¡¯m so sorry Sara. I didn¡¯t think. Next time you can wait outside the entrance or if you need to just take some time alone. I can have other guards supporting me. I love and appreciate you but never at the cost of your own happiness. Please. Your thoughts on the matter.¡¯

    The original fake orphanages that used to gather in children who had lost their parents and family during the first days when the final attack on the Dark Lord was deemed both a success and failure and subjected them to effectively magical torture.

    The Queen had ordered all traces of them destroyed and any evidence had been secured by herself and swept through for valuable clues and information on how better to combat the corruption magic which had infected so many in her kingdom. Shoving the grievous actions committed more than a decade ago she focused her immediate attention on Sara. The young woman had never showed the same signs of deterioration which Ursula had but at the same time her physical form was closer to that of the Queen. Increased strength, ability and the ability to heal as well as corruption being unable to afflict her soul.

    ¡®Never mind. We will have a quick bite to eat and drink on our way to Kirkbride Castle. I don¡¯t believe that I ever told you about my family history regarding it. All pleasant though. Not as though one of my ancient ancestors was a vampire and used the place as a charnel house to rule over the surrounding kingdoms. Be a bit of a bloody mess wouldst it? That was my attempt at a joke Sara. No need to laugh. My husband certainly doesn¡¯t. Come, we¡¯ll be at the entrance to the palace soon.¡¯ said Queen Averill.

    As they continued walking through the halls of her palace, the Queen saw more than a few guards who operated in the city stationed in different corridors. Not all of them were directly answerable to herself as she didn¡¯t pay them out of her own pocket but belonged to the Lords and Ladies who balanced her own position of ruling monarch and head of the state church. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡®Your Majesty. Lady Lightborne. Word has spread of your imminent departure. A plain carriage with horses is being prepared as we speak. Bless the Goddess Aliza.¡¯ said one guard who simply took a step forward in their path causing the pair to halt for a moment before he bowed and took his previous position outside one of the dining rooms.

    Sara bristled as her armoured gloved hands flexed on the sheathed sword at her waist but she saw the Queen had taken no offence and showed no signs of reaction so relaxed her grip but gave the guard a strong look and watched him flinch a little.

    ¡®Thank you. Your name please?¡¯ said the Queen as she held up a hand to signal to her bodyguard to hold their position.

    She didn¡¯t want to question the guard too closely but word of her movements had spread faster than she was aware of even given her status. Besides. She had given no direct order to have a carriage prepared for her and if they also knew her final destination then she was either being spied upon or one of her own personal guards was a talkative sort or worse.

    The stationed guard looked down at her feet, he had never dared to look either of them directly in the eyes and when he had spoken it had been at the ground. He showed her respect of her station at least but his actions were another matter. To directly enter and block their path as they were walking through the corridors of her own palace, her place of residence and power outside of the main temple dedicated to the Goddess Aliza was a punishable offence.

    Seeing as how the guard had kept silent and not responded immediately with his name the Queen considered a few options, she could ignore his rudeness and carry on. She could enforce her authority or delegate another to do so. In less than a heartbeat with a single movement of her finger, Sara would force the guardsman to his knees or lift him into the air. She could even take his head with her sword in less time than it took him to blink.

    All of these options were violent and necessitated a reaction. There were servants around, even if the other nobles liked to consider them as less than furniture. Her own actions with the room guards for her Fallen Angels had been another matter.

    Sadly, reputation mattered and once tarnished would be harder to achieve. To act out of consideration for the suffering of another human being was one, to act because of her ego was another. She would not fall into a political trap of sorts designed to portray as a vicious warrior ruler whose husband would head out weekly for the sake of his own entertainment and bloodlust.

    ¡®Ser Guard. As you can see my bodyguard Sara is by herself today and I had to station two of my personal soldiers to the room of the Fallen Angels. You will accompany me and tell me your name. Are we clear?¡¯ said the Queen as she pushed part of the power of the Goddess into her voice.

    Nor would she allow the reputation of her bodyguard to be tarnished as a barely restrained killer who showed little traces of emotion and acted as an attack cat with vicious claws on her word.

    Interesting. He¡¯s sweating. Badly. I can sense his heart-beating rapidly. There is no major trace of corruption in him though, not much as all. This is no attempt by a cult group to cause me harm with a poison blade.

    ¡®I see. Which Lord or Lady do you belong to Ser Guardsman with No Name?¡¯ said the Queen as she casually watch the body of the man struggle as his own presence became overwritten with her own.

    Out of the corner of her eye Queen Averill saw a corner of Sara¡¯s mouth turn up a little. She¡¯d need to keep an eye on the young woman so that she didn¡¯t confuse bullying those weaker than her with amusement. Perhaps she was simply suffering in a different way.

    The guard faltered before he fell onto one knee and bowed his head. He spoke rapidly, either through fear or the power of the Goddess made real in his presence.

    ¡®I best apologise your Majesty. I need apologise to the Lady Lightborne. I was named Willi by my father and mother and hail from one of the outer districts closer to the walls of the city. The one I served was the Lady of Guidance. I serve my Majesty through my failure to recognise the failure of my actions! I am Ser Spiess at your disposal.¡¯ said the guard.

    The Queen smiled but was unsurprised. The lack of sufficient treatment and care for her Fallen Angels was an expensive affair. Given the fact that none of them were nobility and to the large majority of the population they were simply those gifted by the Goddess Aliza at a young age who would undertake missions to cleanse certain areas of the city where corruption magic endured or had been imposed by cultists.

    They were used mostly by her primary agent within the city Lady Joanne Dee Mawr, widely known as an unknown figure as a mistress of disguise and misdirection who acted on behalf of the Queen in the shadows.

    ¡®Thank you Guardsmen Spiess. From this point onwards you will enter my service. Show me loyalty and capability and you will become one of my personal guards. But I will see your family moved from the edge of the city to a more secure location under my protection. Sara here will be your immediate superior. I would suggest that you stay close to her and also remain outside when we enter our destination. Would you perhaps know where we are heading before you interrupted us?¡¯ said the Queen.

    There had been political interference from the Council of Six who saw the cost of taking care of the remaining Fallen Angels and their high standard of living as an unnecessary expense. This cheapened attempt to provoke her into violence or a display of power within the walls of her own palace was a reminder surely. One or more of them wished to say that she was able to rule in accordance with their efforts despire her exhalted position.

    They could easily have been housed within the Temple of the Goddess Aliza, one of the vacant ones for the other vanished gods or even inside Kirkbride Castle or it¡¯s more common name of the Asylum of Light and True Health. But it was her royal decision and it would not be interfered with.

    ¡®Your Majesty. Lady Lightborne, I was given clear instructions see, to stand in your path and wait for your reaction. I was told you would take a carriage after seeing the captive Angels you keep locked up in your private rooms in your palace. No offence your Majesty. I do as told but I will follow your, no, Lady Lightborne. I will follow her instructions. Clear as the skies from the Goddess, bless her light.¡¯

    The Queen simply gestured to her bodyguard as she carried on walking. She knew that Sara would instruct the man how to behave in her presence, when to listen, when to talk and when he needed to shut up and stay silent and wait for her orders.

    ¡®Onwards then. We are heading to the one place inside this beloved city of mine which everyone knows about but none easily want to enter for fear of never leaving. A shame really, all of the good works of the Goddess Aliza are enabled there. She does so much for us so we should return her favour as much as we can. We head to Kirkbride Castle.¡¯

    ¡®Your..actions are just. My Queen. I live to serve.¡¯ said her bodyguard Sara as she grabbed the arm of the guard and half-lifted, half-pulled him along as the trio began walking again to the palace stables.

 Book 1 Ch 28: The Forgotten and the Failed

    The trio of augmented were invited to the front of the white marble temple room towards the raised platform. The others inside the space took their places either sitting or respectively stranding as they waited for them to take their turn to introduce themselves. In particular Cris was especially interested in hear the background of the augmented, of a short tale of their bravery and heroism and why he had only met three of them.

    The bravery of the augmented. But where did the others go? Did they all die or do they live in hiding?

    Sitting next to Maxton Ge Cris was focused on the nature of the room he had found himself in. He had seen the like before inside the main temple of the Goddess Aliza but how the Lady Joanne Dee Mawr had outfitted a temple like this inside her own building as an expense he couldn¡¯t fathom. His attention was drawn to the statue of the Goddess Aliza as marble eyes appeared to glisten for a moment, Cris experienced an emotion wave through him of sadness and understanding. He knew that the Goddess herself was present in spirit inside this room but this was a sensation that he was privileged to accept.

    When he had seen her floating in the skies of the capital city glowing brightly during the day and dimmer at night he had grown to accept her presence but there had never been any form of direct of indirect communication except through High Priests and her majesty Queen Averill.

    Only those in the top ranks of the church of light and purity were able to able to directly commune with the divine. Praying silently and making the sign of the Goddess with his hands but keeping strictly seated and paying attention he watched the three soldiers approach the front marble

    Captain Agnes took the lead as she glanced down at the small audience in the room and glared. Cris didn¡¯t know that had caused her recent amount of anger but she was entirely displeased. He tried to focus on her and not on the intricate detail that had gone into the room. The fact that she had treated him with both relative kindness and mocking judgement when they had first met gave him mixed feelings about her.

    Either she disliked him, was given a mission to protect him and had planned to scare him a little to help him mature or another factor wasn¡¯t something he was clear on.

    A Captain, a Sergeant and...what rank is Ricther? They didn¡¯t call him anything.

    Cris hadn¡¯t been expecting a miracle. He had wanted hard information, not rumours mixed in with myths and stories told and re-told about their origins. Given the look on High Priest Schmid and Lady Dee Mawr both of them knew far more than he did regarding their actual origins and status.

    From what he heard about the legends and myths of the augmented he was surprised that three of them were even alive after the final war. They had been the process of mixing artificial constructs with human flesh, bone and sinew and the power of light and purity magic to stave off the corruption.

    Supposedly they had been created as a last resort during the end of the war, soldiers who had become corrupted had their limbs removed or lay dying and chosen a different path as the monstrous final revenge of the Dark Lord altered their bodies, minds and souls.

    Through rapid experimentation they had been created, their forms strong enough to resist corruption but at a cost. A shortened life span as well as the development of severe mental and emotional disorders. He couldn¡¯t help but look at the three, wondering about the corruption inside all three of them and why they had wanted his help as an ex-trainee priest to treat the youngest of them privately. Likely, just another part of the charade played out to convince him to join their group. He still failed to understand exactly why he was needed.

    ¡®Attention. All of you need to pay attention. Even the youngest among us with little discipline needs to stop gawking at me and letting his imagination run wild. I am flesh, blood mixed with a few other tricks. And no, I will not remove my clothing to be examined or studied. Neither will Sergeant Marley or Ricther. We have given enough and demand little in return. Cris. Stop staring at me and listen.¡¯ said Agnes as she pointed at each member of the small audience in turn.

    Sitting up straight and realising that he had been openly mouthing his personal thoughts visibily Cris pretended that was inside a lecture room and had just been caught for not paying attention. Only a short few weeks ago he had in fact been in that situation.

    When he had first met the three he had noticed that their comrade Richter was badly suffering from a breakdown inside his body, the fine balance of light magic and the augmentations reinforcing his body failing as he became more animalistic.

    ¡®Listen up. To describe who and what we are is restricted information. The same goes for our exact missions and affairs within the city. I don¡¯t care much for Lady Dee Mawr and the rest of you I barely even know. We are only here at the strict promise that none of us are ending up within the asylum of the Queen as test subjects or worse. Granted she¡¯s meant to be doing good work there and while I think her reputation is good I don¡¯t trust any of you with the lives of those under my command. There are several amongst you whom we made fast friends with but that doesn¡¯t translate into giving up information about the situations of any other augmented either within or outside of this city. I¡¯m going to talk first, then Sergeant Marley and then Ricther if he decides he wants to. And if he does not want to talk openly then nothing is going to make him. I do not care for this street theatre but none of us had fought openly together and bonding needs a start. Sergeant Marley, you will keep a close eye on Richter. He should be stable enough. Ricther. Be patient.¡¯

    As it was the way that the young curly-haired man with feminine features green eyes failed to register to him as fully human. More like someone who had been either brought up in the wilderness and then abandoned from human contact.

    ¡®I am an augmented.We were built to die truth. For the Goddess, the Kingdom and the Queen. We fully accepted this when we chose to become more and less than human after the final conflict. Because I doubt that any of you even stepped a single foot near it I¡¯m not going to talk about it and I never will. None of you deserve to hear how many died keeping the hordes of corrupted soldiers and supporting civilians from killing the farmers, the countryside and ending in the total destruction of the Kingdom of Nurburg. You who lived in these walls were lucky, luckier than my friends who died for you. And we three live, in their name, in the names of the ones whose augments failed them and they died screaming. Power comes at a cost and we alone survived. Do we need to demonstrate our abilities or is this story of kiss and tell finished?¡¯ said Captain Agnes.

    There was a look of pure hatred that flashed through her eyes as she looked at both High Priest Schmidt who turned his head to avoid her gaze and a Lady Joanne Dee Mawr whose own appearance was hidden beneath the white veil she wore on her priestess robes.

    Neither of them responded when Sergeant Marley moved forward and put a hand on the shoulder of the Sergeant as he tried to tug her back without success. He instead waited for her to finish glaring before she turned and tried to throw a punch straight at the statue of the Goddess Aliza before her arm froze in mid-air and she growled in anger. He didn¡¯t know if she was still talking to the small audience of the Goddess but her words were raw emotion and none disturbed her as she muttered her words.

    Cris assumed that becoming an augmented came with side-effects. His own time as a trainee priest in the academy was similar. They had been warned of the dangers of overdrawing upon the powers of the Goddess Aliza.

    The woman on the white platform continued talking to the statue of the Goddess, her words clearly audible to everyone else in the front. Looking around Cris saw that none of the others present looked to intervene. High Priest Schmid had a tear rolling down his face from one of his eyes as he shook his head gently but when he saw Cris looking at him he just gave a sad smiled and held up a hand to indicate to wait. Whether he was telling the others or him directly Cris didn¡¯t know. His own sense of faith wanted him to intervene in this form of desecration of a symbol of the Goddess inside the hidden holy temple. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡®Never talking, always wanting more. The Queen talks to you but she doesn¡¯t tell the rest of us. You have your goals, your missions and you stay silent. Not a single word even as you continue to hang in the skies above the city saving thousands of lives every single day. We died. Everyone on my squad, everyone I went to war with died and you keep silent. Just as well then. Sergeant Marley, you speak for yourself and behalf of Richter. I don¡¯t need him overreacting in this room, we¡¯ve little enough space as it is and he¡¯s clearly growing uncomfortable trapped up in here.¡¯ said Captain Agnes and she tore her arm back with a visible effort as though it suddenly unfroze as it moved further away from the silent white marble statue.

    The gesture she made was unknown to Cris but judging from the look on her face it was a rude one which was also noticed by High Priest Schmid whose face reddened a little. Lady Joanne Dee Mawr simply looked bored and waved a hand in a rolling motion as though to tell Captain Agnes to carry on talking and introducing herself.

    ¡®My rank is Captain. Damn you for making us live. Damn you. Bless the Goddess Aliza for protecting the kingdom but damn her for keeping me alive. I need some space. Sergeant Marley, take over.¡¯ said Agnes as she leaped off the platform at the front and landed with an impact on part of the white marble floor as it began to repair the damaged caused.

    With one last deep look at the statue of the Goddess Aliza she took a seat at a marble bench with was unoccupied and stand down behind it with her back to the platform as she pulled her robe over her head and tucked her legs and hands in.

    ¡®Acceptable. Barely. I¡¯ll permit it but you will come back and explain more. You can consider further treatment from the Church of Light and Purity as your main payment for this work. I expected more from the famous Captain Agnes. Someone with your skills has far more to express about themselves than a simple curse against a life that was saved by a Goddess. Not this tantrum from a grown woman who had completed more missions than I¡¯m prepared to discuss.¡¯ said Lady Joanne Dee Mawr lightly as she gestured for Sergeant Marley and Richter to introduce themselves.

    The young man growled when Sergeant Marley placed a hand on his shoulder before Captain under her hood raised a gloved hand and made a series of gestures. By this point Cris was able to recognise them as being used before. All he knew was that the young man had been treated for corruption magic and he looked to be barely older than Cris.

    Inside this hallowed place of the Goddess Aliza and given the statue and the detail that the marble stone floors were able to repair themselves without any outside input the powers of the divine were strong inside this place. If the young man had truly been corrupted then he would have caught fire or broken apart as light and purity magic opposed his very existence.

    Ricther settled down and shrugged his shoulders before he grabbed his own neck and shifted part of it a little. Underneath his baggy cloak Cris was certain that there was a device of some kind, he knew that the augmented had direct alterations made to their bodies but he supposed it would be replacement limbs or reinforced teeth.

    He would need to wait and see what they had to say for themselves. Inside the white marble temple, the construct Ren had taken a position next to the door and stood as still as the foreign statue he resembled as Maxton Ge simply smiled and gestured for Cris to focus on the platform.

    ¡®Young Master, if you keep staring they¡¯re going to be too nervous to talk. Would you like me staring at you when you stand there? I think not. Even our good friend with no name is holding back his curiosity and trust me and believe me he is very, very interested in these half-machine base level superhumans. For me? Not so much, I prefer the organic. The gene-bonds they share are valuable though. Hard to replicate. A shame their genetic structure is breaking down. Ah, they¡¯re beginning to settle. Captain Agnes, I cheer for your success!¡¯

    Cris tried to make out as though he understood the words from the man with the golden eyes. His accent was reasonable although a little rough and part of his vocabulary didn¡¯t make a great deal of sense. He picked upon breaking down and understood that indeed, the components which had built the augmented were in need of repair. He had been tasked with boosting the remaining purity energy of Marley but at this point he didn¡¯t know if it had all been a test or an actual request for help.

    Sergeant Marley took the stage before he snapped his fingers a few times to draw the attention of the audience.

    ¡®Hello Ladies, Gentleman and guests who stole my money after cheating while teaching me a new foreign gambling game with chicken scratches for words. Joking. I lost but give me a few more rounds and I¡¯ll get my scrip back. My name is Sergeant Marley. I have excellent detection and tracking skills as well as a few other tricks. I¡¯m also hard to kill or injure and I could probably snap the spine of an average corrupted in two in less time than it takes to take a breath. I am called a partial site bog by my new best friend Maxton there. Hey Maxton. Uh...I¡¯m here because Captain Agnes saved me more times than I¡¯ve healed cut flesh and broken bones. Are we done now? I could try and get Ricther to talk but he might also bite my fingers. He¡¯s a good sort. Wait a moment. I¡¯ll see if he wants to share anything. Oh and I like gambling and beating up bad people for money. Sorry, I like to beat up people for bad money. My mistake. The old head doesn¡¯t quite work as well as it used to. Ricther here wants to talk. Bear in mind he needs to be brief.¡¯ said Sergeant Marley as he gave Maxton Ge a hand gesture and received a smile and the same in return.

    Cris waited for Sergeant Marley leave the platform but he folded his arms and stood to the side as he grabbed hold of Ricther who had been waiting on the side and pulled him onto the platform next to him. Then he placed a gloved hand on the shoulder of the young man with green eyes and whispered in his ear as he pointed directly at the audience.

    Inside this room with the holy power of the Goddess Aliza, his own powers had effectively been muted as Cris was unable to use his own magically boosted senses to hear what the older man had spoken.

    The young man stretched up and stood to his full height before he ran a hand through his hair and stood rigid straight with both hands folded over behind his back. The statue of the Goddess Aliza pulsed with a single glow of white light as those in the audience waited for him to speak.