The carriage rattled against the rocky path, the green scenery beyond the window rolling by at a steady pace. Inside, three passengers shared the ride. One of them, a young lady with white-blond hair, stirred from the slumber she had fallen into, jolted awake by a particularly rough bump. Her movement inadvertently roused the boy leaning against her, a blond-haired teenager who looked no older than fourteen. He yawned, rubbing his eyes as he blinked himself awake.
"Welcome back to the waking world," Lucius greeted, smiling at the duo.
"Thanks," they responded in unison, their voices groggy with sleep. Julian, still battling his lingering drowsiness, glanced out the window. Seeing the familiar rolling landscape unchanged, he let out a sigh—half complaint, half concern. "We're still not there yet?"
Lucius chuckled, understanding the young man’s dejection. They had been on the road for days, far too long for someone used to the convenience of teleportation. But alas, such means were not an option for this trip. As a Paladin Custodian of the Býg'mæk Faith, this was a formal diplomatic visit, and his retainers had to accompany him in the appropriate manner. So no convenient teleportation magic today.
"Unfortunately not yet," he reassured, "but we're close—very close." He turned toward the front of the carriage. "Aren't we?"
"Yes, Sir," one of the coachmen confirmed. "The Schwarz family chateau should be in view soon."
At these words, the faces of the two sitting across from Lucius lit up.
For this journey, they were his only retainers. The boy, judging by his priestly outfit, was officially acting as an aide. The girl, though also an aide, had proven her worth as one of the finest Spears of the Býg'mæk Faith. As an escort, she was more than competent, though still lacking for someone of Lucius' rank. Yet, there was a reason he had chosen these two rather than a more fitting retinue—and it had everything to do with who they were meeting at their destination.
***
After riding for another two hours, Lucius's carriage finally saw their destination appear in the distance—a large, looming structure standing solitary amidst the verdant plains. Another hour passed before the carriage arrived at the castle courtyard, where the trio was welcomed by the castle's unique personnel. Unique in the sense that, for a castle like this, one would expect servants, maids, or butlers. But those who greeted them were none of these—at least, their appearance suggested nothing of the sort.
"Welcome to the Schwarz Familial Chateau, Your Grace," one among the welcoming committee greeted, all dressed in long black robes and thick veils.
At his nod, the same woman raised her head, along with the others, then wasted no time to say, "Our Mistress has been eagerly expecting your arrival. May I have the honor to lead you to them, or do you desire to take some rest after your long journey first?"
"We're fine. We're not exhausted," Lucius declared on behalf of the girl and the young boy, who both nodded in agreement. "We'd like to meet them right away, so please take us to your Mistress."
"If I may then," she said, turning around and leading the way into the castle—or as she called it, the chateau.
It wasn't Lucius's first time visiting the castle; this would actually be his third. The first was a century ago, and the second a little over half a century ago, before the grand renovation by the last King of this former Kingdom. That renovation came a few months after the castle was raided and its residents—the Schwartzes—were slaughtered in retaliation for a crime committed by a certain King against a fellow king. So it was no surprise to Lucius to find the place different from his last visit. It had been beautifully renovated, giving it a more "modern" feel—at least by this world's standards.
One thing that stood out to Lucius as he followed the woman leading them was the residents of the château. Just like the one who had welcomed them at the entrance, those he saw roaming the castle were all robed and veiled in thick black fabric, concealing every detail about them. Only a few things betrayed their nature—namely, the fact that, without exception, they were all female. And young.
But Lucius knew better than to take their appearance at face value. The long, pointed ears peeking out from beneath their hoods gave them away. They were elves. And when it came to elves, appearances were a terrible metric for age.
As they ascended a grand spiraling staircase, Lucius met the first person who was not a veiled elf. A gentleman with a cane passed by them, offering a courteous smile and nod. For a moment, the gentleman captured Lucius's attention, but as they arrived at their destination, Lucius's full focus shifted to the people in the room.
Among them, he found one exception—no, two, to not say three—to the constant that had defined the moment he set foot in this domain. While still wearing black robes and veils like the others, their veils were of a see-through black, allowing one to witness their distinct features. One was an elf whose appearance, by human standards, would fit a person in his mid-fifties. The other looked like she could be a human in her mid-thirties. The first had golden hair tied in a stern high bun, while the younger one—an elf—had hair of a deep shade of smoldering ember entwined with the darkness of charred oak, slicked back beneath a black headpiece.
Standing on a terrace, offering a grand view of the verdant plains of the region, flanked by a sofa upon which sat a woman and a young elf girl with silver hair, Lucius and his companions interrupted their mid-morning treat. Both were munching on cake when the elf leading the visitors announced their arrival.
"Mistress, Master, your guests have arrived."
"I can see that," the Mistress—the woman sitting on the sofa—said, putting down her cake before promptly ordering, "Leave us."
"At once," the three elves replied in unison, leaving the room.
Once they were gone, she stood up and declared with open arms, "Dear Divine Emissary of the Býg'mæk Faith, welcome to my humble abode."
Lucius smiled back. How couldn't he? He was genuinely happy to see her alive, not dead as he had feared she would be if not found by Orion.
"Or perhaps, 'welcome back' would be more fitting," she said, arriving before Lucius and suspiciously extending her hand.
"Either way is fine by me, Queen Arianna," he replied, accepting the hand before being yanked toward her for a warm embrace.
"It's been a while," she whispered in his ear.
"Yes," he nodded, "twenty-three years."
Finally letting go of him as if to inspect him, she noted, "And you haven't changed."
"Coming from you, why does it feel somewhat insulting?"
"Insulting how?" she chuckled.
Lucius truly meant his words. He had known her as Arianna since his days as Vittorio, and in many ways, she was both the same and entirely different. The Arianna of those days was someone he could take pride in mentoring, guiding as an elder, and protecting—at least, whenever her stubborn nature allowed it.
But this time, it was different.
Even though she wasn’t actively doing anything—if anything, she was likely holding back—there was a violently malevolent aura seeping from her, thick and oppressive. Having hunted heretics before, he recognized the sensation. It reminded him of those who had earned the so-loathed title of Kinslayer. But while the aura of a true heretic was something only those attuned could perceive, hers was different—undeniable, suffocating, laid bare for anyone to feel. Worse still, it was restrained. He was certain that even the lowest of Peons would have sensed it. And if this was the aura held back... He could only imagine the devastation it would bring if fully unleashed.
So really, it felt different. Not that the roles had reversed, just different, stirring a certain nostalgia from deep within him.
Seeing that Lucius took her question as rhetorical, her attention shifted to the young boy standing at his left. "Is this who I think it is?" she asked before promptly lifting him as one would a child—or perhaps a couch pet. "Yep, no doubt, this is who I think it is." Putting the boy down, she turned to the elf girl she had been eating cake with. "Come look at who's here. This good old Dungeon Master 10."
At the words, the elf girl nodded, finished her cake and walked up to Julian. The duo looked each other up and down, the stare exchange feeling oddly hostile. It was only after a tense moment in that silence—one Arianna seemed to find amusing—that Julian commented, "It seems that for the second time, I've outgrown you, my dear Goblin," he said, motioning to their height difference, with Julian being on the taller side.
"Why are you saying that as if that was a good thing?" Goblin replied sternly.
At these words and tone, Julian slightly recoiled, clearly expecting a different answer—something that Goblin, as Arianna called her, seemed to understand and, in fact, found amusing. A large smile soon replaced the stern expression she had worn. "Just kidding," she said, hugging her fellow Dungeon Master. "I knew you'd pick on me for my height again. I know you all too well, Charlie."
"I guess you do, but it's unfortunately not Charlie anymore."
"I can see that."
"Ma'am has given me another name to go by... Julian."
"Well then, Julian, nice to meet you for the first time."
"Likewise, Miss Goblin," the two Dungeon Masters exploded in laughter.
As the duo began catching up with one another, Arianna's attention shifted to the second person accompanying Lucius to Schwarz Castle. "And this beautiful young lady, is this who I think it is?"
"I am Dungeon Master 14," she introduced herself rather formally—stiffly, in fact. "But out here, I'm known as Ramia."
"I know, sweetheart," Arianna chuckled, gently reaching out to her cheek. "Of course I do. I was there, after all, when Lucius over there gave you that name."
"Oh... right," she flustered.
Having raised the girl—not once, not twice, but three times—with the goal of shaping her into a high-ranking member of the faith he had infiltrated as a Dungeon Master at his side, Lucius had had time to learn traits unique to Dungeon Master 14. One of these was that she had yet to reach the stage of acceptance that Dungeon Master 08 had ultimately attained.
Like several of their kind, she had been reincarnated into a vessel of the female gender, but unlike Arianna, she had never fully come to terms with it. As a result, Ramia was highly sensitive to anything that associated her with femininity.
She had at least moved past the denial stage—she no longer resisted being addressed by her name, having overcome that in her very first reincarnation—but true acceptance still eluded her. This was why she continued to dissociate from anything conventionally feminine.
So, being called "beautiful young lady" or "sweetheart" would typically earn a frown from her. But at that moment, her reaction was different. Uniquely different.
And Lucius understood why.
Of all the Dungeon Masters present in Fiendfell, only three shared Ramia’s predicament. If he included Dungeon Master 06, that would make four, but the case of the Dungeon Master known as Lee or Goblin was something else entirely. So only Dungeon Master 08 and Dungeon Master 12 truly shared her burden—except, as Arianna herself had once said, she didn't see it as a burden.
For so long, Ramia had struggled to accept what she was. She had always looked up to Arianna—admired her as a Dungeon Master—but admiration alone hadn’t been enough for her to embrace the reality Arianna had long accepted. Yet, after Arianna's return to the Land of Men three years ago, and even before that with the series of unshadowable feats she achieved, something had shifted for Lucius's young fellow Dungeon Master. The admiration she held for Arianna, both as a person and as a Dungeon Master, had begun to overshadow her own complex.
Lucius had noticed it personally—Ramia had begun to attempt to emulate Arianna. And now, standing beside the very person she had been trying to emulate for the past three years, it was no wonder the girl known as Breakbone Ramia was acting so clumsy.
It was like meeting your idol.
Except, in this case, that idol was an international criminal whose crimes spanned from coup d'états to outright genocides across three continents.
***
For a moment, they tried to catch up on what was trivial to share between themselves—mainly Goblin and Julian, regarding what the latter had missed. They recounted how they plotted the demise of the Argyrian Patriarch, a tale—or, to be exact, a perspective of a tale—that captured everyone's attention, including that of Lucius himself.
As Goblin wrapped up the story, Arianna, whose focus was less on Goblin's perspective—as she had seen it herself—was thoroughly engrossed in the cake she was devouring. She asked, the moment she caught Lucius glancing at her, "So, dear Lucius of the Býg'mæk Faith, far be it from me to rush you or anything—you're welcome in my chateau for however long you like—but I'm curious, what's the official reason for your visit?" She asked, putting a clear emphasis on "official."
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"Officially, I'm... Why am I even answering this? You know why I'm here."
There were a hundred official excuses he could have come up with for visiting Queen Arianna as an official of the Faith, but none were as valid as a visit to talk some sense into her about what was currently happening on the continent. And she knew that, and it amused her.
"Are you talking about the manhunt?"
"Yes. I'm talking about that."
Under the authority of King Dorian, one of the three remaining kings of the Land of Men, men were being rounded up—mainly highbreeds and Verdenkind from all backgrounds, mostly questionable adventurers—to initiate a manhunt. Calling it a manhunt would even be an understatement, for these hounds rounded up by King Dorian weren't unleashed after a man, or two, or three, but thousands. It was a thorough purge. A purge of the old regime and everyone associated with it, including the families of the former kings and the late emperor. For almost two years straight, blood had been shed all over the continent.
One such instance was the bust of one of the most important members of the imperial family, who had been hidden by a loyal noble family. This earned that noble family to be put to the fire along with what little remained of the imperial family. This particular event brought about a dazing unrest all across the continent that the Seraphims, and by extension the faith, did not appreciate at all.
"Too far?" she asked, unapologetic.
Lucius sighed, then conceded. "I understand the goal." Beyond just hunting the remnants of the old regime, the men gathered by King Dorian were also entrusted with another mission—to find new information about a certain Massiach, whose disciples or cult members were responsible for Arianna's abduction. "I really do. But you need to have Dorian put an end to this."
This was a position he held not just as a Paladin Custodian of the Býg'mæk Faith, but as a Dungeon Master as well. Had she taken that task herself—or better yet, put King Lance to the task—he would have been, as a Dungeon Master, without complaint. But here's the issue: the one leading this massacre was a fellow Dungeon Master he had sweated so hard to elevate to the rank of king to replace King Alexander who Arianna offered to get rid of. While she had accomplished better by making him one of the three remaining kings, not just one of the seven, making him one of the most influential humans on the continent, this purge nonetheless ruined Dorian's almost spotless career.
"It's been two years, and you haven't found anything about these disciples of Massiach. The chances of Dorian's hunt finding anything are—"
"Close to none? I know," she calmly admitted.
"You know?"
"Yes," she smiled. "To tell you the truth, I'd be lying if I said I expected them to find anything about the disciples of Massiach in the first place," she said, reaching for a skull on the nearby coffee table.
"Mh," Lucius frowned. "Care to explain?"
Playing with the skull, she explained, "These bastards were prepared—thoroughly prepared," she said, pointing at Lucius through the skull's eye socket. "Neither you nor I saw them moving around, and they've been around for a while—fifty years at the very least. I'm not expecting someone so well-prepared to be busted by some urgently rounded-up nobodies. If anything, it would be very anticlimactic, not to say disappointing."
"Then why?"
Is all of this just to get rid of the former royal and imperial families loyalists? he wondered. And while that seemed disproportionate, he believed that Arianna could calmly answer yes to that question. That would, in fact, be typical for her. He'd seen her carry out such cleansings—she did it with the royal family from whom she acquired her kingdom as a king. She did it with the Schwarz, formerly known as Weiß—the royal family whom she drove to extinction. But at the very least, with this one, she did it indirectly; as for the former, it was direct, but at least it wasn't to this scale.
"I'm really happy you came. At least I get to explain this face to face, for I knew it would be confusing to you," she smiled, then promptly proceeded to explain. "While I was trapped in the void, I had time to think about what happened. I had all the time in the world to do that in that place. As I considered what happened, a certain realization hit me. The disciples of Masiach were prepared—very prepared to handle whoever came out alive from our confrontation, either me or Cleon. From their reaction, I'd say they all bet on Cleon winning, since they looked surprised to see me teleported there in relatively good shape—which is the factor that ultimately cost them their demise. Now, here’s the thing, the surprised expressions I saw when they saw me in relatively good shape suggest one thing: they didn't know what happened on the battlefield. They just showed up and sprang into action. So how does the timing work with that?"
"Someone signaled them," Lucius realized.
"Yes, someone whistled for them to come around. But who did? It had to be someone who witnessed everything that went on—someone who saw me on the verge of finishing off Cleon, then panicked and summoned his friends before I obliterated Cleon, whose body, we all can agree, they wanted." She put the skull back on the coffee table, then with her fingers, began to count. "There were, on the scene, me and Cleon—it's obviously not us.”
“There were Goblin and Aquaflora. Obviously not them or their subjects.”
“There were the Seraphims; they were observing the fight from their moon, but I can say with assurance that this is not their doing. I might hate the bastards, but they're fair when it comes to respecting an oath. They wouldn't interfere, be it indirectly or even less directly. That leaves us..."
"The Kings..."
At that moment, it all lined up in Lucius's mind.
"There were six kings present at the scene, but by the time these bastards appeared and scooped me up like I was pond fish, they were already captured by Goblin and Aquaflora after their monarch issued them the suicidal command to charge our floating armada. Now here's the question: assuming our whistleblower was one of these seven kings, which kind of king do you think he'd more likely be? And of course, assuming that he took his role of whistleblower seriously, would he be the one to charge blindly at our floating armada or the one that pretended to be charging blindly? By 'pretending,' I mean that our king knows he wouldn't get unexpectedly killed. He knows because he's made a deal with the owner of the armada that he'll be left unharmed. So, which one do you think it is?"
"The latter," Lucius answered. He didn't need to think far; it just made sense. Half of the seven kings were pretty much clueless about what was going on. They'd all been summoned by their emperor, then brought along to this challenge Arianna made him above the Parting Sea—a battle to the death. The other three—they knew. They knew years in advance about the invasion, and knew about Arianna's plan to challenge Cleon. Lucius himself was there when they'd been informed of it.
"I see," Lucius nodded, glancing at the second head atop the coffee table. The head had a crown on it. "It wasn't Floren, was it?"
With a wry smile, "Yes. I questioned the rat myself. He only ever admitted to one crime—ratting out Lance and Dorian to Cleon last minute." She chuckled at the irony. "Only to ultimately betray Cleon when he realized that he was going to die that day. A truly perfidious rat, but unfortunately not our rat."
"So it's him..."
She nodded.
The two of them knew with absolute certainty that it was not Dorian—their fellow Dungeon Master—meaning that it had to be Lance, the second King.
"I wasn't thoroughly sure of it, but that night, when I suggested that for Floren's treason his whole entourage should be exterminated, I saw it in his eyes—fear, fear for his loved ones. At that moment, I knew. Do you now understand where I'm going with—"
"I do."
"Glad we're on the same page. You should praise me for how much restraint I showed by not caving his face into the back of his skull right there and then."
"You did well. You did really well."
With the rat identified, but also his weakness exposed, Lucius felt confident that they could trace this trail back to this famous Masiach—a confirmed authority wielder and fellow reincarnate.
"Umu," Arianna chuckled, reaching for a bowl of berries that Goblin and Julian shared. "I had a feeling you'd scold me if I killed the bastard."
It would have been a real problem if she had killed King Lance. It was already bad enough when she executed a treacherous fellow king—if she killed another one, it might have been enough to push the Seraphims into action. And that was the last thing Lucius wanted.
But that wasn’t the only issue.
The agreement they had made with the Seraphims dictated that three to four rulers would govern the continent equally. With two kings out of the picture, that would leave only King Dorian and Arianna. At first glance, it might seem ideal—after all, they were both fellow Dungeon Masters—but Lucius knew better. The fewer kings there were, the more restricted their power became. The more limited their movements. For the fewer rulers there were, the more intense the scrutiny.
Right now, all eyes were on Arianna—but she was an anomaly, one with the resources to stand her ground against the scrutinizing gazes, just as Cleon had before her. If she weren’t there, and only Dorian remained, the full weight of that attention would shift onto him. And unlike Arianna and Cleon, Dorian had yet to build the strength—whether political or otherwise—to withstand that kind of pressure.
So Lucius needed to keep the rat around. And Arianna herself seemed to agree.
"It's been three years. I don't think he suspects that I know anything about his whistling activities. If he had doubts then, they must have waned by now. But with the witch hunt still active, I'd say that he would try to avoid making contact. If he does, I'd say it would be to do something big—something that'd guarantee his beloved family's safety. Namely, killing me by ambushing me again like they did."
At these words, Lucius, Julian, and Ramia looked out at the faraway scenery—nothing but verdant plains for miles. They all simultaneously understood.
"I've been staying in this castle, making myself a perfect target for such an attack, and yet nothing. So I'd be tempted to think that those 'people' I killed in the Void and the one who killed himself before Goblin could question him above the Parting Sea were Massiach's elite force. If they weren't, wouldn't it have been logical to send someone after me to finish the job back when I was still stuck in the Void?"
Lucius once again agreed with the reasoning. After thinking it through for a moment, he announced, "I'll have the word passed down to the Executare Vicaris and the adventurer guild to look out for cases of corpses of high-level highbreeds and Verdenkind missing, and make sure the word is passed down that all high-ranking corpses are properly disposed of."
She nodded, seemingly content with the suggestion.
"As for King Lance, am I correct to assume that the task of keeping an eye on him is mine, right?"
"Totally," she declared with a shrug. "In fact, this whole Masiach affair is yours. I'm out, my dear. I'll only interfere if they invite me for a squabble or accept my open invitation, which they don't seem to have any plans for."
"I...I see. Is that all?"
"Yes, I think. A problem?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she noticed the way Lucius eyed her.
"That's... very uncharacteristic of you. I thought you'd want to be more involved in this. They wronged you. What was your saying again? You don't forgive, you don't forget."
She burst into laughter. "I indeed don't do either. I absolutely want them brought to my justice, but... I unfortunately don't think I have time for that."
In an instant, the mood in the room changed. It grew heavier. Everyone there understood what she meant by that.
"I've already wasted too much of my time posing as bait that they ultimately didn't even take. I have so much to do yet—like somehow restoring the Schwarz family to a decent level, resurrecting my whole dynasty somehow. As it stands, I'm pretty much the only living member of the Talulah dynasty."
She talked as if there had ever been any other Talulah. Talulah was a name she took upon becoming king under Cleon. No one else other than her had borne that name. Her family members, the Weiß, whose name she made them abandon for Schwarz, became a "cadet branch" of the royal family that she solely embodied.
"There's me too now," Goblin added.
"Ah, right! I guess we're two Talulahs now. Not bad for a beginning," she chuckled self-deprecatingly. "But still so much work ahead. I can't really allow my future, sweet and precious heiress to spawn into this merciless world without the proper family support. You know, I've been thinking about adopting lately. Sure, Goblin can produce what I'm looking for, but ultimately, the end result is an elf. So I've been thinking, why not adopt someone from Dorian's family or, even better, someone from Lance's family? I heard the rat's favorite son had a young daughter. I could demand her. She would have her little place as a Ward of the Schwarz family."
Just like that, Arianna exposed her nefarious plan to Lucius. But in that moment, his mind barely registered her words—it was still glued to what she had said earlier about her time being limited.
He’d heard whispers of it over the past few years, ever since her return. While she let Dorian handle all the manhunting, she had been busy with something that, to most, might have seemed like an effort to restore her dynasty. But for them—Dungeon Masters who understood what was truly going on—they knew she was making preparations for her next incarnation.
"What do you think, my dear Lucius? A good idea, wouldn’t it be? A good way to torment—"
"Can we talk alone for a moment?" Lucius cut her off, glancing at the three other Dungeon Masters.
As a Dungeon Master, he believed there should be no secrets between them. But he also knew that was an extreme stance. The ideal would be that they not keep sensitive information from each other, but they were ultimately deserving of their own intimacy—even secrets. What he wanted to talk about with Arianna fell into that domain. It was not something he was about to say as a Dungeon Master, but rather as an individual—a friend.
"Of course," she said.
At that moment, the three Dungeon Masters rose from their seats and walked toward the entrance. But before they could reach it Arianna lifted a finger and just like that a rift through space opened, taking Julian and Ramia by surprise. But at the sight of Goblin casually walking in and noticing that the one who had opened it was Arianna, they relaxed and followed the rift to another location.
"It's a little skill I acquired escaping that place," she explained, casually closing the rift.
"I know," Lucius said. "Orion told me about it."
"Oh."
"He also told me of the resolution you had come to."
"Are you talking about what I planned for my next incarnation?"
Lucius nodded. "To be frank with you, that's the main reason I'm here. I know I have no say in this, but I have to be honest with you—I have reservations about your 'plan.'"
Can it even be considered a plan? Lucius wondered. She had always been good at pulling off uniquely twisted stuns, but with this, he had to ask her, "Do you really want to do that?"
Upon being asked that question, she didn’t immediately answer. She pondered in silence for a moment before replying, "Yes."
Seeing she planned on adding nothing further, Lucius simply said, "I see." Then, considering his words carefully, he asked, "How are you handling this?"
"Handling what?"
"You know what I’m talking about?"
"Quite well, surprisingly," she answered nonchalantly, taking another bite of cake. "Life has been less miserable since I escaped the Void. Since I accepted my defeat. After all, it's not the end of the world—not for a Dungeon Master like me. I'll die, but I'll return."
"But you won't be the same," Lucius said. "Remember these words?"
With a wry smile, she nodded. "Of course, after all, they’re mine. Who could have guessed that one day our places would be exchanged? Now, standing in Vittorio's place, I strangely see it—how you accepted it. Vittorio wanted to continue living, but death is inevitable. So he made peace with it. I've made peace with it."
While the cases were comparable, Lucius believed they could not be equated. Beyond his inevitable death, he had reasons—such as his decaying condition linked to age—that urged him to abandon his existence as Vittorio. She did not. She was in her prime—the very pinnacle of humanity—which made the fact that her limited lifespan was coming to an end a true tragedy.
"I'll admit it," she confessed, lifting her hand up to inspect it. "I do not want to stop being who I am. I have been Arianna the longest time of my existence. I feel like Arianna is the one I have been destined to be. I really hate having to die. I want to, as Arianna, retrieve the authority in Massiach and his followers' possession. I want to, as Arianna, kill and retrieve the authority from the Iron Overlord in the Dwarven continent. I want to, as Arianna, kill and retrieve the authority in the hands of the Seraphims. But alas, it seems that won't be possible, for I will die and be reborn as someone other than Arianna. So, I think I can only but accept it—and perhaps do my best so that my next incarnation at least holds a candle to who I have become today. Which is why I believe 'she' has to become my vessel. I highly doubt she'll ever surpass me, but she's going to be the closest thing you'll ever have to me. So... I'll be counting on you, Goblin, and Dorian to make sure she makes it to adulthood. As you can see, I don't really have a family anymore, I only have you all."
In the face of the look of absolute resolution she displayed despite that last joke, Lucius could only sigh and concede. "Leave it to us. We'll make sure she grows up to be—have you come up with a name for her?"
"A name... hehe, I guess it makes sense for me to be the one to come up with a name in this case. I've chosen names for fellow Dungeon Masters before, but those names rarely remained. So, I think I'll let the task of naming me fall to that good old Dungeon Master 00."