Without a word, Greyan strolled to the closest robed person and stared down at them. He seemed more machine than man with his full suit of armor. The cowering human beneath him tried to shy away, but Greyan reached down, and with a single yank, unmasked the first person.

They were… some Lemonholmian. Nobody important. Their features were contorted with a mixture of fear and disgust, and they looked like they wanted to spit at Greyan’s face. The Knight Commander took no heed of the Lemonholmian’s ire and moved on to the next one. One by one, he unmasked each robed figure, revealing a disturbing truth.

There was no rhyme or reason, no pattern. Some of the masks revealed important figures, such as the sour government official, Sarah. Others revealed ordinary people. The only things that bound the crowd were the robes, the masks, their home, and their hatred.

When he was nearly finished, Greyan looked out at the crowd. Thirty-six Lemonholmians, young and old, man and woman, all brimming with hatred. Beelzebub had seen them all at some point or another, but only recognized a few. Sarah, both of the buff men that had accompanied them prior, Betty, Lahim. Only two remained unmasked. Greyan removed one. The innkeeper. He moved to the final one. Beelzebub knew who it was, thanks to Ben. He recognized her frail body, the way a subtle shiver entered her body every time she moved.

Muweh Sawah was the last to be unmasked. Unlike the others, her face was stern, no hatred visible behind her eyes. Greyan backed away slowly, clutching the final masks. He threw them into a pile with the rest. They were like a mound of mocking faces, watching the confrontation. Greyan sat on the old fountain and rested his chin on clasped hands. He waited for a few moments, watching the group of still-robed townsfolk squirm and grind their teeth. The other Knights remained unmoving, like statues ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. The mercenaries, unsure of what to do, sat on a bench. Elofan was unusually quiet.

Finally, Greyan spoke. “Muweh Sawah. I’ll trust you to speak on behalf of this group. Who are you?”

The gaze of thirty-odd people bore into Muweh’s back, but she sat steady. Beelzebub was trying not to think of the entire situation, but several analyses were already pouring in from the hive.

Seyorohon had been in possession of one of the masks worn by the robed people. He must have been a member, then. Somehow, in the course of that single night, the rest of them had discovered that he had been exposed and executed him in a ritualistic manner. Perhaps for another reason, or perhaps for the sole reason that his membership in that group was a close secret.

“We are a simple group of people who want the best for Lemonholm,” Muweh said. The crowd behind her bristled.

“By murdering your own?”

“If needed.”

Greyan nodded. “This sort of occult behavior is prohibited by both the crown and the Church of Humanity. Was it a good idea to act while I was in town?”

Muweh nodded this time. “It was the perfect time. The appearance of the mercenaries only made it more fortunate.”

“What is their involvement?”

“In this? None.”

That seemed to confuse Greyan. Actually, it seemed to confuse everyone, even the other cult members. Before they could ask what she meant, Muweh continued.

“You moved more quickly than I expected, Commander. Perhaps I should the credit the mercenaries’ strange friends.”

Grehn stood. As did the other two. Beelzebub tensed. Was she talking about the bees?

“Everything came together tonight. If some members hadn’t appeared, I wouldn’t be ready to direct you. You are all combat-ready, the mercenaries have yet to escape, and their friends are nearby. I think it’s time to bring your mission to a close.”

“What do you mean?” Greyan asked. At some point, she had stood up. His eyes had been drawn away from Muweh towards an object in her hands. A pistol.

“Rose of Ethos. We will eliminate the Lemonholm Betterment Club and this new threat in one fell swoop. I have already taken care of my husband and his accomplice, Seyorohon, for attempting to destabilize the Kingdom. That was the original plan. Now, we can wipe the slate truly clean.”

For a moment, nobody moved. Everyone only stared at the gun in Muweh’s hand, which she pointed at a random rooftop. She fired. Beelzebub had been so focused on the pistol itself that when it fired, she narrowly managed to push Ben out of the way before the bullet tore through the air. An unshakable force pressed on their Minds. Mother.

“LEAVE.”

The mercenaries jumped into action when they felt the voice of Mother. They had to grab Elofan, who hadn’t heard. Beelzebub grabbed Ben and tossed him away, over the rooftops and towards the closest section of Lemonholm’s wall. In that same moment, an equally oppressive force descended on the outsiders; a wall of cold Mind that evoked images of musty desks and old scrolls.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The cold presence of Mind that enveloped the town, pouring from Muweh, seemed to spark something in Greyan. He nodded, rising to his feet. His movements were sluggish, as if he wanted more than anything to be somewhere else. Looking towards his Knights, who were, at this point, spinning around in confusion, he said a single word.

“MIS.”

Greyan looked between Muweh, the crowd of cultists, the rooftop, and the mercenaries. He nodded again, pointing two fingers at Jey, then at the mercenaries. Without hesitation, she dashed towards the mercenaries, closing the distance between them more quickly than expected. Herwen and Meyara hesitated. When Muweh fired a shot into the crowd of cultists, she motioned for them to follow suit, but Beelzebub didn't see them open fire. Greyan, meanwhile, slumped his shoulders and walked to Muweh.

Beelzebub’s mind buzzed, not just from the situation but from the flood of theories the hive – mostly the smart bees - was piecing together. Greyan mentioned the MIS – was Muweh a part of them? Had she killed her husband and put on this show of a murder mystery because of some plan he’d come up with to destabilize the kingdom? She had even left a trail of clues for the Knights to follow, except the bees had figured some out first. Was the cult also a part of her cover story? For that matter, was everything about her a part of some elaborate infiltration? Even marrying the Lord?

Beelzebub was stuck. Meanwhile, everything steadied in Ben’s view as he tumbled through the air from the force of Beelzebub’s throw. He was ahead of the mercenaries, but they were already slowing down to confront the speeding rocket that was Jey. She was too fast; they wouldn’t react in time.

Ben had to do something. If not for the humans, then for Elofan, at least. He sped downward, stinger extended, ready to meet Jey head on. He couldn’t see her face, but nothing in her body language implied surprise at his sudden appearance. Instead, she calmly raised her bayonet. Ben couldn’t dodge. He’d have to block. Power exploded from Jey’s bayonet only as she swung down, the sudden burst of speed and power catching Ben off guard. It would kill him.

Beelzebub slammed into Jey’s side stinger first, crumpling her chest plate and blasting her into a building. The force rocked the wooden home’s foundation, destabilizing the entire thing. Beelzebub emerged from the building’s dark confines just as it toppled, crashing onto the Knight still inside.

Beelzebub’s stinger rose, not a moment too soon, as a bayonet seemed to appear from thin air.

“JEY!”

Greyan had moved so quickly that he arrived just before his shout did. The blade at the end of his gun clashed with Beelzebub’s stinger, until, with a mighty heave, he swung, sending Beelzebub flying down the main street. Without sparing the mercenaries a glance, he shot his free arm forward, blasting the rubble atop Jey away. Herwen and Meyara soon appeared beside him, and he pointed towards the dusty form of their comrade.

“Grehn. Vlugh. Elofan. And you two insects. It is somewhat unfortunate, but Lemonholm will be your grave.”

Greyan spoke without looking at the people in question, instead staring at the main street. A red and black blur was causing wanton destruction, smashing divots into the road and slashing the sides of buildings. The power of its Mind was slowly building, less like an explosion and more like a pot of boiling water. Each moment that passed made the world seem more red, more angry, as the warrior known as Beelzebub reached the peak of her rage.

“Herwen. Make sure Jey is alive. When you’re done, help Muweh keep things under control. Meyara, deal with these four. I will make sure that thing is kept in check,” Greyan said, pointing to Beelzebub.

In the next instant, Greyan disappeared, reappearing in time to blast Beelzebub further away from the group with his bayonet. He followed behind her until they were distant enough to become little more than the sounds of metal-on-stinger and waves of boiling Mind.

Meyara turned towards the mercenaries. Both had their weapons at the ready, Grehn and his sword and Vlugh with his twin pistols. Elofan was backing up, her staff at the ready. Ben was behind them, injured. Although Beelzebub had saved him from a worse fast, he’d still been clipped by Jey’s bayonet. However, the subtle presence of Mother enveloped him, and the shallow gash near his stinger was already healing. With Mother’s [I Command Bee, HEAL] Ability, a wound like that was nothing.

Herwen knelt by Jey’s side. Unlike Ben’s wound, hers was grievous. Beelzebub’s stinger had punctured a hole in her clothes and armor on the right side of her chest. If the attack missed her organs, she might have been fine, were it not for the ugly, red rash already spreading from the wound. Her teeth were grit and her eyes closed, but she was clearly alive.

“Fighting shape?” Herwen asked.

“Not at my best, but maybe something light,” Jey responded in a clipped tone.

She didn’t seem to be in fighting shape, not after getting impaled and having a building crash down on her, but maybe Knights were made of tougher stuff. Herwen helped her to her feet, and she stood by herself, eyes half closed and sweating profusely. The three Knights stood off against the mercenaries. Meyara kept an eye trained on Elofan. Leaving Jey to lean on a piece of wood, Herwen ran back to the square, where the sounds of gunshots continued to ring.

“You’re condoning this?” Grehn asked. He was desperately looking for a moment to escape, but Meyara hadn’t stopped staring at them.

“It’s now a part of our mission. Every oddity has finally been cleared up, so now we will just follow Greyan’s orders,” Meyara said.

She still hadn’t moved, making Ben question her goal. Greyan had said to ‘take care of them’, but did that just mean kill? Or was there a chance of survival?

“Everything’s happening so suddenly, I’m not sure I understand what’s actually going on. Mind explaining?” Grehn asked. His stall tactics were obvious, but they seemed to be working.

“Enough. If you’re about ready, Jey, I may need some help killing them if they’re as crafty as we expect.”

So much for that. Jey took a deep breath and nodded, eyes fully open. Her right arm was permanently glued to her side, either in pain or by instinct, but she only needed one to prepare her gun to fire. Meyara took a step towards the mercenaries, but before she could attack, Elofan’s whooping voice accompanied by a burst of Mind caught everyone’s attention.

“Poisoned Bog: Friend and Foe.”