We had the Gilded Wolf surrounded by nightfall.
The two-floor establishnt stood in the heart of Snowdrifts slums, a bastion of sin and revelry in a sea of destitution. Much like the rest of the city, its tiworn facade bore the weight of a decade of decay. The marks of past brawls were etched into its wooden beams and walls like old battle scars, and the sll of ale and sweat hung heavy in the air around it.
The more I learned about the Gilded Wolf and its owner, Fenrivos, the less I liked it. On paper, Fenrivos was one of the few entrepreneurs left in the city. Exploiting the cataclysmic economic crisis to buy space on the cheap, he had houses destroyed to increase the Gilded Wolfs size and expand its activities. When the inn opened its doors, locals and foreigners alike could enjoy a warm drink, the rush of furious gambling, and the pleasures of a courtesans company. All in all, the establishnt reminded of the House of Gold in Erline; except it catered to commoners with coins to spare rather than the noble elite.
But there were unsavory rumors in the slums about what happened in that places dark belly; of forbidden pleasures only available to a wealthier and more amoral clientele than the average sailor looking for drinks and won.
No one truly bothered to investigate Fenrivos, largely because he paid his taxes on ti, helped keep the city afloat in these troubled tis, and paid off inspectors. Alaire once found two n willing to testify against the mans activities, but both were found dead in short order. The countess-to-be had planned to raid the place for a long ti, only to be delayed by her grandfathers illness.
Quite the fortuitous coincidence, if you asked
We have closed off all access routes from the surrounding streets, Alaire recounted to our group. The heiress had co equipped with a bastard sword, a buckler, an elegant helt, and a chainmail shirt emblazoned with a silver pegasus emblem. I even sent n to the sewers below. Nobody should be able to escape this place without a fight.
Alaire and Marika saw to it that I ca properly equipped for battle. They had put on a lightweight tal breastplate over my padded gambeson, hardened leather vambraces and gauntlets to protect my arms, flexible legwear and chausses, and a strange helt with a hinged peak projecting above the face opening. This ensemble should offer good protection without sacrificing too much speed.
What do you call this thing again? I asked Marika while putting down the helts hinged plate to cover my mouth and throat. A sallet?
A burgonet, Marika replied with a chuckle. She herself ca in full plate armor and hid her face behind a visored helt. She carried a sledgehamr too heavy for one hand to wield and a cloth bag on her back. Nothing decorated or fancy; just sturdy steel. Its called a burgonet, Robin. It should protect your head and maximize ventilation.
I dont think theres a weapon strong enough to beat so wisdom into his skull, Alaire mused.
Why would beating a skull make one wise? Soraseo asked. Her crimson armor was by far the most elaborate of the gathered lot, though it surprised she only ca with her curved sword. I would have expected her to bring her shield for defense. Beating skulls brings in stupid spirits.
No, that forget it. Alaire shook her head with a heavy sigh. Rember that our goal is to capture prisoners and gather evidence. Corpses do not talk, so avoid a bloodbath if possible. Colmar can heal most injuries, but not death.
I dont think a peaceful raid is in the cards, I replied while drawing my rapier with one hand and my dagger with the other. I still struggled a bit with my essence sight, but even I managed to identify the dreadful aura radiating from the Gilded Wolf. This place reeked of evil. The demons inside.
Alaire nodded sharply. Do you think you could contain it?
To my surprise, Marika shook her head. Ive learned the price of letting a demon live, she said. You would regret it, Lady Alaire.
Demons do not surrender, Soraseo added. They lie to weaken the spirit and then strike at the back.
I see, Alaire replied. If you must kill to save your lives, no one will fault you for it.
So long as I am Lord Protector, lives will be fleeting, but the law will be eternal, I quipped. Alaire rolled her eyes, but I ignored her. Im surprised you decided to co, Marika.
I dont like fighting, but I can defend myself, my friend replied with a shrug. Your skill transfer will help, I wont deny it.
I hoped so. I was starting to run out of retired guards to buy experience from. I had a plan to get around the shortage with Soraseos help, but since she intended to leave Snowdrift in the near-future, that well would eventually run dry. Considering Marikas status as a hero and exorcist, Alaire agreed to a permanent skill transfer to improve her survivability.
This essence Marikas hands gripped her sledgehamr tightly. Its just like that sword
That sword? I asked. Did she an like Soraseos sword, which she exorcized not too long ago?
Ill tell you another ti, Marika replied evasively. Soraseo, Robin, can you stay close to ? If things are as I expect to find them, Ill require your assistance.
Ive got your back, I said. Soraseo offered a respectful nod of agreent. Lets go now.
Alaire whistled, signaling the start of the raid. Two dozen guards surrounded the establishnt, with our heroic team going in first. Soraseo kicked the Gilded Wolfs front doors wide open, releasing a tempest of noise into the street.
The tavern was full when we arrived. Hundreds of patrons drank and partied in a vast hall under the glow of flickering torches. The dim light cast shadows on worn floorboards, tables covered with food platters, and more ale mugs than I had ever seen gathered in one place. A commanding barmaid with silver-streaked hair and a crimson gown presided over the revelry like a queen. A dozen waiters and waitresses attended to the needs of a motley lot of ard n too drunk for their own good, craftsn looking for a good ti, sailors drowning their sorrows in alcohol, and drunkards exchanging bawdy jests with one another. The clamor was almost deafening, to the point I could hardly understand the few minstrels singing in the room.
It said sothing about Alaire that her thundering shouts pierced through the noise. City watch! Everyone on the floor!
She can search anyti, I thought, though I wisely kept that joke to myself. Guards with clubs invaded the hall like a conquering army, silencing any shout or protest with a strike to the face. The wisest of the patronsthe kind not too drunk to thinkimdiately laid down on the ground with groans and complaints. The stupider among them drew weapons or shouted back, only to be quickly subdued by the more experienced and better armored city guards. The tavern staff wisely called everyone to not resist and obey the law.
We subdued the hall within minutes. While Alaire began to interrogate the barmaid and staff, I took the occasion to look around the place, imdiately noticing stairways connecting to the upper floors.
Where does that lead? I asked a waiter lying down on the floor.
The brothel, he answered with his hands behind his back. Such a sha we had a demon to kill and criminals to arrest, or I would have sampled the goods. For the sake of public safety, of course.
Marika pointed at a pair of sturdy, locked doors on the eastern side of the hall. What about those?
The waiter clenched his jaw. The kitchens.
Id never seen soone lie so poorly. The dreadful essence Id noticed earlier flowed out of the hinges and locks. Soraseo didnt waste ti. Her blade shredded wood and steel like paper, carving a path.
It even sounds sharper than most swords, I thought as Marika and I followed after Soraseo, with other guards short on our heels. Stairs leading down to the basent awaited us beyond the destroyed doors. A thunderous chorus reached my ears, quickly followed by the sound of clashing swords and cheering crowds.
The Gilded Wolfs fighting pit awaited us below.
We entered stands overseeing a sunken arena from above. The crowd here was smaller and wealthier than the patrons above, since such an operation required deep pockets and vetting to avoid loose tongues, but there were still dozens of spectators. Six combatants ferociously clashed on a floor of dirt streaked with dried blood, surrounded by the leftover corpses of three other n and just as many dogs. The sll of blood, and the raucous cheers of the patrons, drove the sweating warriors into a furious frenzy. I heard patrons too absorbed by the fight to notice us betting on their favorite warriors.
Arenas were strictly regulated in most civilized societies since they often generated Blights. That one could operate in Snowdrift for years spoke volus about how much the counts grip on the city wavered in the wake of the plague.
Tall torches were mounted along the walls, but most of the light ca from a fire box at the arenas center: a burning yellow fla larger than a man and brighter than the sumr sun. I felt my heros mark shine on my skin the mont I lay my eyes upon that dreadful pyre. The sheer amount of corrupted essence erupting from it was downright intimidating.
Its its that fla Marika trembled in a mix of dread and anger. This is bad.
A bells toll echoed in the pit before I could ask for details, ceasing the fight below and silencing the crowd. My eyes darted towards the source of the noise: an isolated balcony opposing the stands we were currently in. A tall, middle-aged man with graying hair stood there with two armored guards next to a bronze bell. At first glance, the stranger would have looked rather unremarkable except for his richer than average clothes but my essence sight imdiately picked up the sinister red aura radiating from him.
We had found our demon.
Gentlefolks of Snowdrift! The fiend waved a hand at us. Please, a round of applause for the three so-called heroes who have blessed this arena with their presence today!
The drunken n among the crowd roared in delight at our presence, though most beca quiet upon noticing the guards at our back. The demon was heavily outnumbered, but he remained strangely confident. That worried .
Fenrivos, I suppose? I asked, signaling to my allies to cut off the stands exits. Were you expecting us?
Itll be Lord Fenrivos for you, false one. My mistress foresaw that you would co here. The demon grinned ear to ear as he glanced at the yellow fire in the arenas midst. Alas, you are too late. The berserk fla of Belgoroth has already supped on a steady diet of pain, hate, and misery.
Marika tensed upon hearing the na Belgoroth, though it ant nothing to . Too bad, weve got enough water outside to douse it, I said before waving a rapier at Fenrivos. Get him, boys!
Fenrivos exploded into laughter and the rooms temperature suddenly spiked.
The disaster started with a slight disturbance at the edge of my sight, a simring tension in the air, and a flicker of the torchlights. While spectators and guards alike remained oblivious to it, my fellow heroes and I imdiately sensed the encroaching malevolence. Marikas mark glowed beneath her glove, as did mine, and Soraseos let out a silvery light from under her helt. The essence in the air thickened with corruption.
Marika, the only exorcist among us, let out a shout of warning. Blight!
The fla at the arenas center let out a demonic roar, and the world trembled.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye. The combatants closest to the epicenter were thrown to the ground by a pulse of malevolence. Corrupted essence surged from the berserk fla in a tide of malice, infecting every inch of the arena. Glowing cracks spread through the floor like rifts leading into the heart of a volcano and spread outward. A few wooden benches among the stands caught fire, incinerating the spectators sitting on them; others contorted into macabre shapes that reminded of fangs and toothy maws. The torches flas began to resemble snarling skulls of ghostfire.
And then ca the monsters.
The dead dogs corpses on the arena ground rose back to their feet, with yellow flas erupting from their wounds and replacing missing flesh. The gladiators grew layers of red scales over their skin and black horns sprung from their skulls.
But worst of all, madness spread through the air. So of the panicked spectators began to convulse and contort, their limbs snapping in unnatural ways. Others showed subtler signs of corruption: a glimr of wild rage in their eyes, frothing saliva dripping at the edge of their lips. They snarled at our group and lunged at us like rabid beasts.
Soraseo jumped into the fray. Her blade swept across the berserk audience in a decisive swing and beheaded five n at once. I stared at the trail of steaming blood she left in her wake, horrified.
What are you doing?! I choked at the spectacle. The sudden display of violence shocked , especially since Alaire insisted on avoiding a bloodbath. We must incapacitate them, not kill them!
It is too late, Lord rchant, Soraseo replied with terrifying confidence and calm detachnt. She cut down another maddened spectator without remorse halfway through her sentence. The evil owns their souls now.
Shes right! Marika shouted, though with a lot more unease. Theyre already turning into monsters! Theres no coming back from that!
I opened my mouth to protest when one spectator bypassed Soraseo and lunged at with nails turned into claws. I instinctively drew my rapier and impaled my attacker through an eye before realizing what I had just done.
To my horror, he kept going. The maddened spectatora rich rchant from his choice of clothingpushed himself along the entire length of my sword and attempted to strangle with his bare hands. His teeth transford into fangs, and when I looked into his one remaining eye I saw no hint of humanity.
Only bestial fury.
Behold! Fenrivos gloated from his balcony. The true face of humanity!
Theyre right, its too late, I realized. Even animals backed away from pain, but not my attacker. The berserk fla had robbed him of everything except for a murderous hunger. Fear, compassion, sanity I couldnt see any. If they escape, theyll kill everything they encounter. n, won, children, animals theyll keep killing until they die themselves.
Im sorry, I muttered. I drew my dagger and beheaded my assaillant in one swift stroke, the blade letting out a trail of flas in its wake. Im sorry.
Fenrivos would pay for this atrocity.
Our guards, having expected a riot, quickly adopted a defensive formation; raising their shields in a line and using their clubs to push away attackers. A tide of maddened flesh crashed against their armored wall of steel. As for Marika, she swung her sledgehamr at the attackers legs and arms rather than their vulnerable areas. Though I granted her fighting skills, she didnt inherit the will to kill. It would have ant her death in a situation like this one, were it not for her near-impenetrable armor.
Alaire and reinforcents rushed in from up the stairs, with the future countess imdiately gasping at the terrible sight. What madness is this
Evacuate the tavern! I ordered. Though they were far away from the flas to avoid the worst of the madness, I noticed two of the guards holding their heads as if struggling against a terrible headache. Their discipline might let them keep their wits longer than civilians, but not for long. Evacuate!
Alaire imdiately protested. But Robin
This fla infects n with murderous madness! I shouted. It will contaminate the people upstairs unless theyre taken away!
Alaire wished to argue further, until a maddened spectator jumped over her guards shield wall and attempted to tackle her. She repelled the attacker with her buckler and gutted him chin to groin, spilling steaming entrails on the ground. Alaire stared in horror at the corpse, whose arms still wriggled on the ground.
Its her first ti killing, I realized. Soraseo showed none of Alaires unease. The Monk single-handedly carved a crimson path through the stands, the blood of her victims invisible on her armor. She charged straight at the balcony which Fenrivos occupied. The demons two armored bodyguards, utterly unaffected by the madness, moved to intercept her with heavy halberds. Soraseos done it before.
It hit that my mind was clear, an island of sanity in a world gone mad. My marks light pushed away the corruption that turned the arena into a hellscape. And while Marika was shaken by the bloodbath, she wasnt convulsing like a third of our guards.
Alaire, our marks protect us! I shouted at the countess-to-be, who was helping a still-sane guard move one of their wounded comrades upstairs. Well take care of it from here!
Finally realizing she needed to get the civilians upstairs to safety, Alaire nodded sharply. Dont die!
Thats the plan, I thought as the guards retreated upstairs, leaving Marika and I surrounded by blood and corpses. I hoped she was as good an exorcist as she advertised. Can you destroy the Blight?!
No, but I can contain its spread! Marika rushed towards the arena. Cover !
Jumping into a fighting pit filled with undead and monsters wasnt exactly my idea of a good ti, but it was a once-in-a-lifeti experience. I followed after Marika, my boots landing straight on the ashen ground. I could feel the ever-increasing heat infiltrating my leather and tal armor alike.
The berserk fla burned with an eldritch radiance and let out a guttural growl. Its power expanded past the arena, twisting the walls and ceiling with the shape of snarling, eyeless faces and fiery scars. Six demonic gladiators answered the call to arms, charging at Marika and with unhinged ferocity as half as many undead dogs followed in their wake.
Not the best of odds, but Marika and I rushed at the fla without hesitation. We both knew the stakes at hand: the Blight would consu all of Snowdrift unless stopped.
Phantom instincts that werent my own guided my hands and feet. Ser Hugdans swordsmanship training. Freydis sharp hunter reflexes. The marks sudden boost in speed and strength flowing through my bones. They blurred together with my own experience in street fights into a dance of steel.
A gladiator ca at with his axe soaring through the air. I dodged with a sidestep, impaled him through the eye with my rapier, and twisted it to scramble his brain. Another demonic warrior flanked with his sword, which I deflected with my dagger. His weight and strength pushed against my steel, and it should have brought to my knees. Yet the marks power gave just enough strength to push back and counter with a lethal strike.
Ser Hugdan had been an asshole, but a pretty good fighter nonetheless. I would send him a fruit basket if I ever walked out of this hellish pit alive.
At my side, Marika bashed a hellhounds skull in with her sledgehamr and then attempted to keep two others at bay with wide swings. As for Soraseo, she had beheaded one of Fenrivos guards and pushed back the other with a relentless flurry of steel.
Your false marks might protect your souls, but they wont shield you from death! Fenrivos leaped off the balcony, his body wreathed in the sa crimson miasma as Sforza before him. Guide my arm, Lord Belgoroth!
The monster he beca crashed into the pit with a thundering quake.
The man had beco a hulking horror thrice his original size. Though Fenrivos kept the vague shape of a humanoid being, his head morphed into that of a vicious bull, and his feet into steel hooves. Thick shaggy fur grew over his skin, with the exception of the skull, which shed its skin and flesh to reveal the bone underneath. Two blazing red eyes glared at from under a pair of deadly horns. A massive, ornate axe too large for any man to wield appeared in the monsters callused hands.
The demon called his establishnt the Gilded Wolf and transford into a bullman. I felt cheated.
My amusent turned to terror when Fenrivos charged at us in a terrifying burst of speed.
He crossed the entire pit in an instant, the very earth shaking with every step. A demonic gladiator too slow to jump out of the way was trampled into fine paste under his hooves. Sothing so large had no right being so fast, but he was at our throat in seconds.
Down! I shouted a warning. I barely managed to tackle Marika out of the monsters way before a fatal impact. We tumbled on the arenas floor while Fenrivos crashed into the nearest wall with enough strength to shatter stone. The entire building trembled from the collision.
Unfortunately, one of the remaining undead dogs seized its chance. He lunged at before I could get back to my feet, aiming straight for the throat. I raised my rapier, with the monsters fangs closing on the blade. The beast climbed onto and pushed, trying to pin to the ground while Fenrivos removed his head from the smashed wall.
These things are smart, I cursed while shoving my dagger through one side of the dogs head. It didnt even flinch. And they dont feel pain either.
Marikas sledgehamr smashed the dogs skull to pieces, destroying it. My friend grabbed my hand and helped stand up. Do you have a plan? she asked as we faced Fenrivos.
The good news, the demon had trampled all the small fry. The bad news, he was far worse.
Yeah. My hands tightened on my weapons hilts. Try to stay alive.
Fenrivos swung his axe with such speed that a whistling sound resonated when his blade cut through the air. Marika and I split in two directions to dodge. The axe split the ground in half, with flas rising from the rift.
My first instinct was to retreat and gather reinforcents, but the thought of my city turning into a hellscape kept in the fight. I charged at Fenrivos while his axe was still stuck in the ground and stabbed him in the leg with my rapier. His hide and thick muscles proved as strong as armor, and my blade about as effective as a needle.
The kick that followed sent flying.
My breastplate caved in, and my ribs would have followed were it not for the hard leather underneath. I landed a few inches away from the berserk fla, my vision blurring briefly from the crash. Ashes filled my nostrils, and I sweated so much I thought I might dry up in seconds.
I heard Marika call my na, though all noise beca gargled to my ear. She managed to kneecap one of Fenrivos legs with her sledgehamr. Her weapons blow bent the bullmans bones and caused him to grunt in pain. Fenrivos then backhanded her so hard that she crashed against a twisted stone wall and collapsed.
I cant believe Im saying this, I cursed under my breath as I rose to my feet, but I think I would rather face Sforza.
Sforza? With Marika seemingly unconscious, Fenrivos turned his attention upon . Ah, youre the one who wiped out the Knot of Greed in Erline, are you not? The Knot of Wrath wont be so easy to deal with.
Knots? I asked while leaping to the side to avoid a swing of Fenrivos axe. Once again the weapon narrowly missed . I could dodge a hundred blows, but I wouldnt survive a single hit. What knots?
The Knots are everywhere. Fenrivos wounded knee prevented him from charging at , so he settled on swinging his axe around like a butcher. We tie souls together in the service of the true heroes.
I would have taunted him with the fact that there was nothing heroic about the Demon Ancestors, but I didnt have ti to catch my breath. I sidestepped left and right to dodge lethal blows. Fenrivos tried to push closer to the berserk fla, hoping that what his axe couldnt do, the fire would.
A new challenger ca to my rescue.
Soraseo soundlessly landed in the arena, holding her bloody sword with one hand and the beheaded skull of Fenrivos last bodyguard in the other. She beca a crimson blur that crossed over the pit in the blink of an eye, her armor simring on her skin. Her sword slashed across Fenrivos heel before he could finish off, forcing him to kneel and staining the arenas ground with black blood.
Douse the fla, Soraseo all but ordered . She tossed her head trophy aside and raised her sword with both hands. I will get the victory.
Its madness! I shouted in disbelief. You cant possibly take him alone
Fenrivos snarled in anger and attempted to crush Soraseo under his axe. She stepped out of the weapons way with grace, the blade missing by an inch, and then swiftly cut off four of the demons fingers with casual ease. The exchange lasted a second, but by the end, Soraseo stood unhard and Fenrivos shrieked with a bloody stump for a hand.
On second thought, she would be fine.
Leaving Fenrivos to Soraseos tender care, I rushed to Marikas side. She was coughing ashes on the ground, wounded but alive. Here, easy, I said while offering my arm. I helped her get back to her feet. Can you stand?
I think so still blurry Marika grunted. In spite of her words, I could tell she would fall over the mont I let her go. My bag please
I grabbed the cloth bag on her back and revealed its contents: a gilded chain covered in encrusted runestones and arcane symbols. She and Colmar probably crafted it together.
What are we chaining with it? I asked in disbelief. The demon?
The fla, Marika replied.
Oh goddess
I dragged Marika across the arenas floor to the tune of Fenrivos screams of agony. Soraseo had severed his last functioning leg with a wide swing, forcing the demon to collapse face first onto the ground. The Monk quickly maid his other hand before he could recover, her blade cutting through hard flesh and steel-strong bones with ease.
I was almost tempted to sit and watch the spectacle. Now that was a warrior. I couldnt see Soraseos face beneath her visor, but the look in her eyes filled with awe. Her eyes betrayed neither fear nor anger.
In fact, she looked bored to death.
However, for all of his might, Fenrivos threat paled before that of the ghastly fla he worshiped. The more blood we shed on the arenas floor, the brighter it grew. The fire had grown into a pillar reaching all the way to the ceiling and staining it with corruption. The very air simred and the smoke twisted into screaming human faces. An aura of overwhelming dread and tension weighed on my shoulders, suffocating .
What what must we do? I asked Marika, the heat was so great my tongue went dry. Itll swallow the entire city before long
Let take care of it I let Marika go and watched her work. She whipped her chain into the air like a lasso before throwing it into the fire. The fla let out an inhuman screech that sent shivers down my spine.
The chain coiled around the fire like a serpent. Marika did not direct its movent, at least not physically. My essence sight picked up a current leaving my friends hands and guiding the gilded links into the air. The chain swirled in circles around the berserk fla, weakening the heat. The fire stopped growing.
A black spot appeared in the fires heart.
There there was sothing inside the fla. A humanoid shadow coiling inside the light like a worm in an apple. Its shape reminded of a knight in plate armor, with the helt vaguely resembling a lions mane.
And then it spoke.
Daltia What mischief are you up to, my old friend? The voice was guttural, yet it sounded so very human. Its echo reverberated into the arena. No you are not her
A sharp surge of pain erupted from my hand. My mark glowed like the heart of the sun, as did Marikas and Soraseos. The Monk, whose sword was firmly stuck in Fenrivos skull, raised her head to glare at the fla.
We all knew, deep within our heart, what was staring at us through the fire. The enemy we had been empowered to fight.
A Demon Ancestor.
Greedy fox, whose avarice knows no bound and you, widow blinded by false love my peers in na alone The shadows confusion turned to anger. It raised its left hand and a sword-shaped red symbol blazed on its back. Why are you here? In this sea of flas and pain, there is nothing for you.
That voice Marika muttered to herself, her eyes alight with fear. The mory youre Belgoroth
Her concentration waned slightly, and the weakened fla let out a roar of rage. The ceiling cracked. Focus, Marika! I shouted, trying to get her back on track before the whole place collapsed on us. Dont let him distract you! Youre almost there!
Yes! Marika snapped out of her confusion and tightened her grip on the chain. Her gilded restraint coiled around the fla, slowly choking its heat and power.
Your efforts are for naught, the Demon Ancestor said, his voice grim and terrible. The people of this land the weak, the vengeful, the desperate their voices summon to end their misspent lives of sin their suffering stokes my berserk fla.
If so mighty you are, demon, then you shall have my fury, Soraseo warned. She stepped over Fenrivors beheaded corpse and stepped closer to the fla with her sword drawn. I challenge you!
Two red points lit up on the shadows helm. The Demon Ancestor answered Soraseos challenge with a simple sentence deadlier than any sword.
Wallow in your sins, Mother-Killer.
His words resonated in the pit like a curse. Soraseos sword fell onto the bloodstained ground, her eyes suddenly hollow. She looked as if her soul had been snuffed out from within.
No duel would take place. Marikas hands let go of the chain, which intertwined around the fla in a dense net of tal. The fire shrank in size, its malice contained. I didnt fully understand the chanics behind Marikas seal, but it managed to constrain the malicious essence flowing into the pit. The great pillar of fire was now no larger than .
To delay my coming is folly. The Demon Ancestors shadow faded away with a final curse. We shall et again when the City of Wrath opens its gates we shall toast a cup of blood.
His cursed fla lingered; sealed, but still burning.
I exchanged a glance with Marika, then checked on Soraseo. The Monk stood frozen in place, shaken and sullen. Soraseo? I called out to her. Are you alright?
Her silence was an answer in itself.
Fenrivos corpse burned away into nothingness, leaving only a familiar, skull-shaped golden coin behind.
We won the battle, but the war had only started.
The Blight had been sowhat contained within the Gilded Wolf by midnight, sparing the rest of the city; at least for a ti.
Neither Marika nor the citys witchcrafters knew how to douse the fla in the basent. Its malice had infected the tavern above, twisting its main hall into a deranged house of fanged pits, twisted walls, and ever-burning torches. Alaire imdiately ordered her n to set barricades around the place in case monsters crawled out of it.
Casualties among guards were minimal, though a few dented ones remained in Colmars care for treatnt. We arrested all of the Gilded Wolfs patrons and issued arrest warrants for whoever had been foolish enough to invest in Fenrivos venture. I had the feeling a few cultists would hide among the greedy and the duped. We would interrogate many people by the nights end.
Belgoroth? Alaire asked when we recounted our report. Colmar joined us too, his gloves covered in blood. He had been forced to amputate a few survivors.
The Demon Ancestor we faced, Marika replied with a scowl. The Lord of Wrath. Thats his true, cursed na.
I frowned. I didnt know.
I I encountered his cult before. Unfortunately. Marika looked away. I didnt think their reach extended to Archfrost.
If they could activate the Blight at any ti, why didnt they do so earlier? Colmar asked. Did we force their hand sohow?
I guess Fenrivos intended to unleash the Blight when it would cripple Archfrosts northern defenses the most, I said. We already suspect the beastn in the north to serve the Demon Ancestors.
Makes sense. Alaire stroked her chin. A Blight surging from behind our lines like a dagger in the back could have crippled our nation.
Were facing a large organization that spans at least two nations, I warned my allies. I could guess who gave Sforza his cursed coin. Fenrivos confird he worked in tandem with accomplices within Erline.
Three nations, Robin, Alaire replied. We managed to recover docunts in the Gilded Wolf, including shipnt records ant for Irem.
At least this raid would help crack down on that mysterious network. What did they send to Erline? I asked. Weapons? Drugs?
Alaire scowled. People.
My fists clenched in anger. Marika paled in horror, and Colmar crossed his arms in silence. Only Soraseo did not react. She had barely said a thing since our encounter with Belgoroth.
From what I could read, Fenrivos and his accomplices were shipping flesh, Alaire explained grimly. Her fair face twisted in loathing; that such cris happened in her city infuriated her as much as . They pretended to offer them passage to the Everbright Empire and other nations before putting them in chains. n were sent to die in the arena, no doubt to fuel that horrible fla with blood. The won and children were sent to the Riverland Federation and Irems slave markets.
When orphanages didnt provide Sforza with enough flesh for his brothels or pickpocket bands, he imported them from Archfrost. The plague and civil war left no small amount of downtrodden people behind. How many families unwittingly signed on with Fenrivos, expecting a better future only to find themselves dragged deeper into despair?
A slaving ring. I struggled to contain my disgust. Theres not enough soap in the world to clean trash like them.
We will get to the bottom of this, Robin, Alaire promised with determination. I swear it on my honor as a Brynslow.
If there is a Knot of Wrath dedicated to Belgoroth, then we must expect all the other Demon Ancestors to have their own, Colmar pointed out. Now that we have co out in the open as heroes, we should expect future retribution from them.
Marika crossed her arms, her eyebrows furrowing. So these Knots are what, a cultist confederacy?
A network of independent organizations, I suggested. I couldnt see how anyone could effectively coordinate a unified group spanning all of Pangeal. Each cult most likely acted on its own and cooperated with others when their interests aligned. Fenrivos ntioned a mistress warning him of our coming.
I Marika cleared her throat. The cultist I encountered ntioned a lady. It could be the sa person.
I nodded sharply. We still havent cut off the snakes head.
Perhaps our captives will tell us more, Alaire said before changing the subject. What about the Blight? Will your chain hold, Lady Marika?
Marika shook her head with a sorrowful scowl. Theres no seal in the world that can contain a Blight of this magnitude forever. I can replace the chain when it wears out, but a little essence will still leak through and poison the land around it.
That didnt reassure Alaire. How much leakage?
Marika hesitated a bit before answering. The Blight will swallow the city in months rather than hours.
Alaire sighed in despair. I tried to cheer her up. Well, at least we gained ti, I said. We can turn things around.
I hope so, Alaire replied. What solutions do we have?
One cannot entomb cancer, Colmar said. It must be excised or cured with dicine.
I expected as much. Well stick to my plan then, I declared. We renovate the city until it purifies the Blight on its own.
Nobody voiced an objection. Our path was clear so far, with one exception. I glanced at Soraseo, who clung to her sword the way an old woman would rely on her cane not to fall. No demon could harm her flesh, so they targeted her spirit.
Mother-Killer I knew better not to ask why Belgoroth called her that way. If the accusation was true, then the wound ran deep. Soraseo agreed to help until she could receive her letter of passage, but I hoped I could find a way to soothe her pain before she left. She needs a friend.
So many other mysteries bothered . Why did Fenrivos call our marks false? And the blazing sword on Belgoroths hand it felt strangely familiar, though I couldnt put my finger on why. I had the feeling both of these details were related sohow.
A cloud of smoke suddenly erupted to my left, startling . Everyone with a weapon drew it in alarm, none swifter than Soraseo. I expected a surprise attack, only to find myself facing a familiar face.
Ah, Robin! How good to see you again! Eris Belarra grinned at . The many swords pointed at her throat did not appear to bother her too much. What did I miss?
The Wanderer was back.
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