Bishop Uther, formerly of the Noble house of Avellar – though that was four generations back, as his ancestor had been ousted from the house following a family dispute and escaped to the Temple instead – was a man of power and influence. He was the nominal head of the Rijesca Monastery in the south of the Kingdom, which placed him in an enviable position amongst many, even to those outside the Temple’s hierarchy.

Unlike the more common temples built within cities and towns where they catered to the local populace and helped encourage worship of the four Gods, monasteries like Rijesca were the Temple’s own military academy equivalent. They were places where young people – often orphans or otherwise recruited from amongst the peasantry – were trained to devote their lives to the Gods and to take on all threats in their name.

Rijesca was one of the Kingdom’s biggest monasteries, one of the largest ten, to be sure. While nobody would dispute that the monastery within the main Temple at the capital was undoubtedly the largest, the others weren’t that far behind either, especially in the quality of the devoted and fanatically loyal Temple Guards they turned out.

Just over a week ago, the order to send talented youths into dungeon delves before they would be sent to the frontlines were delivered all over the Kingdom, and Rijesca naturally received such an order as well. Bishop Uther, as the nominal head of the monastery, selected fifteen of the most talented third-tier youths in the monastery – including his own son Artorius, whom he doted one – and sent them out to meet with the appointed fourth tier chaperones hailing from nearby temples who would each bring their own youths for the mission.

He was not too worried. Dungeon delves of the sort he sent the group to were a common thing, and he himself had gone through several in his younger days. On top of that, the fourth tiers assigned to the group were people he was familiar with. Father Poligenes was an old acquaintance since he presided over the temple of the closest town, whereas the two fourth-tier Temple Guards were graduates from the monastery who were assigned to a larger city a bit further away.

While Bishop Uther was known as a doting father and spoiled his only son Artorius greatly, he could not deny that his son – while lazy – had a lot of talent, so he figured that participating in the dungeon delve would be a good experience to have. Besides, with the fourth-tier chaperones it was not like anything bad was likely to happen to the group, which was more than powerful enough to handle the dungeon.

Other than that, Bishop Uther also gave his son a Soul Lantern as a precaution. A Soul Lantern was a rare artifact, one that the Temple was well-versed in making, but rarely made due to the rather exorbitant cost of the materials needed to create one. As a wealthy and influential member of the establishment, Bishop Uther was naturally able to procure one.

The artifact itself had only one use. It detectedt its bonded user’s condition at all times and relayed the information back to its pair, which was kept by Bishop Uther on his person. Should the bonded user be in a distressed state, that would be reflected on the paired artifact. Similarly, any harm or injury on the user’s body would be reflected upon the paired artifact.

Simply put, the Soul Lantern was a method to keep an eye on the condition of important people from afar, one that was far too exorbitant in cost to be used by people other than the Royal Family, Nobles, or higher-ups within the Temple.

It was just the previous day, during the noon sermon, that Bishop Uther heard the sudden, unmistakable cracking noise from the paired artifact he carried with him. In a rush, he immediately ceased his sermon and fished the artifact out of his robes. Sure enough, the paired artifact was cracked. In fact, mere moments after he brought it out, the whole thing shattered and crumpled apart into dust in his hand.

That was only supposed to happen in one case: The death of the bonded user. The Bishop’s son Artorius, in this case.

Understandably, the sermon had to be stopped as the Bishop flew into disbelief and then rage at the sudden, unexpected death of his son. Most of the people present in the sermon fled the room as they didn’t want to be caught up in the fourth-tier Bishop’s out-of-control wrath, with only the other fellow fourth tier members of the monastery remaining in the sermon hall.

The Bishop’s rage demolished a good chunk of the front half of the hall, the wooden stage and lectern reduced to mere rubble, as was most of the benches on the first four or five rows. The only exception were a couple of benches where some people were seated. People similarly in the fourth tier and thus able to block the impact from the Bishop’s wild strikes.

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In fact, it already showed a great deal of subconscious control on the Bishop’s part that the hall itself was still standing. As a fourth tier he was very much capable of annihilating the whole sermon hall along with a chunk of the monastery if he truly wanted to, but he must have held back even while deep in the throes of his rage and grief.

“I presume you would like to have our best warriors assembled for an expedition, Your Eminence?” asked Brother Savan, one of the senior instructors in the Rijesca monastery and a fourth tier Temple Guard in his own right. He talked as if nothing had happened instead of the Bishop having just demolished half the sermon hall in a fit of anger.

“That would be appreciated, thank you, Senior Instructor,” said the Bishop as he took a deep breath to calm himself down. Uther then seated himself on top of some of the stage’s wreckage that still happened to be solid enough to take his weight. “Have rations and equipment prepared for up to a month’s worth of travels as well. Judging from the time it happened, Artorius must have perished pretty deep inside the dungeon.”

“As you willed, Your Eminence,” stated the older Temple Guard with a polite bow. “It might require a while to prepare all the required necessities, but we should be able to depart by sunset if we push it.”

“No, have it prepared properly. The milk had already been spilled. Even if we rush, it wouldn’t bring Artorius back to life,” said the Bishop with a shake of his head. “I would rather have the expedition depart tomorrow morning with everything prepared properly rather than rush out this evening only to find out that we neglected some things due to the rush.”

“Understood, Your Eminence,” replied Brother Savan as he gave another bow and left to give the command.

“Sister Melvina, if I remember correctly you have a skilled soul-tracker amongst your inquisitors, do you not?” asked the bishop as he turned towards a cold-looking elderly woman who wore a nun’s habit. The Inquisitors were a branch of the Temple dedicated to hunting down heretics and handling any internal corruption and the like, and they were typically based in the larger monasteries like Rijesca.

They were feared amongst the populace for their tendency to suddenly appear out of nowhere, broadcast their identity, and then summarily capture and punish those that had been deemed guilty, be those heretical worshippers of false gods or otherwise. That said, they were also known to hunt down members of the Temple who had either let things get to their heads too much or otherwise failed their duties, so while they were seen as a boogeyman figure, they were considered as a neutral one for most people.

A boogeyman that was not likely to come for you personally was less scary than one that might do so after all.

The soul-tracker mentioned by the Bishop referred to a rare – and strictly limited path only seen amongst the Inquisitors – class that could see traces from a soul on others. This was primarily useful in things like murder investigations and the like, and if they arrived at the scene of the crime they likely could track the criminal as long as not more than a week or so had passed.

It was only four days from the monastery to the dungeon Artorius died in. If it was the work of monsters, then the Bishop planned to track down the specific monster responsible – if it still lived – and visit untold cruelty upon it for as long as he could. Naturally, part of his wrath would also fall upon the rest of the group that had been with his son, and they would likely get sent to the worst battlefields possible as a result.

On the other hand, if the culprit turned out to be other people…

The Bishop had enemies, as was typical of his station. Some Noble families he had offended in the course of his duties, rivals within the Temple’s hierarchy, the typical ones. Other than that, he also had bad blood with the Marquis house of Avellar, where his ancestor originated from. The bad blood was mutual between him and the present noble house.

As it stood, the current Marquess Avellar was a cousin to the Bishop thrice removed, and the two branch families always viewed each other with hostility. The Noble house – rightfully – feared that the Bishop might try to use his position to forcibly take over the house itself, and while Bishop Uther would love nothing more than to kick his spoiled cousins to the ditch, he lacked the necessary power to push for such a resolution, to his dismay.

Prior to his rise to power, the Noble house barely paid any attention to the distant branch family they practically exiled long ago, but when Bishop Uther rose to power, to the point that he became Head of a Monastery, they sat up and took notice. It wouldn’t be out of character for them to arrange for the Bishop’s only son and heir to meet with an “accident” during a dungeon delve.

Of course, they wouldn’t have predicted that the Inquisitors based on the monastery possessed a skilled soul-tracker. The existence of soul-trackers was a highly classified secret that was known mostly only to the Royal Family and the higher-ups within the Temple itself, so it was unlikely that a mere Marquisate house would be aware of them.

The very next morning, Bishop Uther led a group of forty veteran Temple Guards – four teams of ten with each team headed by a fourth tier and the members in the late third tier, but all older individuals – together with the other six senior fourth tiers of the monastery. The lineup was practically the vast majority of the monastery’s high end power, as they left only a single fourth-tier to hold the fort.

Bishop Uther was determined to root out the cause of his son’s death and to visit gruesome vengeance on those responsible, and nothing would stop him from his course. The expedition group of fifty people – The Bishop, the six seniors, three members from the Inquisition including the soul-tracker, and forty veterans – departed that morning and headed towards the dungeon where the Bishop’s son perished.

They were fully decked out for an intense battle, be it with monsters, forces working for other elements of the kingdom, or even the unthinkable like covens of heretics, which had not been heard of in centuries but remained as warnings in their history books. To most, it would appear like an abuse of power on the Bishop’s part, but he was well beyond caring about that or the impact it might have on his position, or on the potential political fallout that might result, for that matter.

He would go through hell and high heaven to avenge his son, and nothing, nothing, will stay his course.