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.

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    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.¡¯

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    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?¡¯

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    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 warning: 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.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    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.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    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. Maxton Ge 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.

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    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.

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    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.

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    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.

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    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.

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    ¡®¡­.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.

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    ¡®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.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    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.