“So you stuck around Adderland and killed people? Is that it? Sacrificed them to appease a raging God of death?”
“We began by sacrificing five people at first... by lying them down and cutting their throats ceremoniously, the ancient way...” Lias makes a slow cutting motion with his finger against the side of neck, implying the villagers were killed by having their neck artery sliced. “But the mist persisted, and they reanimated and attacked... That was when we truly realized how dire our situation was, and people started to become unhinged... Then we sacrificed several more, and then several more, and then several more... No matter how many lives we offered, they simply came back.”
Veros sighs again, frustrated that the escalation of the situation doesn't cease. “I can't believe this. You went straight to desperate ritual sacrifice? Did no one else just leave? Travel south?”
“Almost half of the people in the village did in fact leave... Others stayed, now convinced that the mist was the cause of angry Gods, who couldn't be outran... But no matter how many lives were offered, the strange mist never went away... The villagers became desperate; they became hostile towards me, blaming me for bringing this curse to them... Then they began blaming each other. Infighting broke out among us, causing many to start lashing out... killing one another in their owns homes, which led to more reanimations who had to be put down.”
“I guess that explains all the corpses in the houses.” Kellar somberly remarks. “But what about the bodies outside that were burned? What happened with them?”
“I...” Lias turns reluctant despite his straightforward explanation so far. He pauses nervously, and his gaze drops to the floor.
“Answer the question, monk!” Veros angrily seizes the clergyman's by his robes again and lifts him from his seat.
“I think they... were people from other villages...” Lias concedes and frightfully starts to explain. “I-I don't know who they were, or why they came here... I just ambushed them, and knocked them unconscious and... and set them on fire. At the time, I still thought more sacrifices would be needed, but offered in a different manner.”
“You... You burned them while they were still alive?! Why?!” The furious veteran yells, throwing the monk back down onto the cot. “Why did you burn them alive?!” He screams the question again.
“I thought it was the proper way to sacrifice them to Zerruth...” The monk continues his explanation, growing hasty along with his fear of the livid man's wrath. “I had learned of a sacrificial ritual associated with Zerruth... but wasn't sure of how to do it, so I improvised in my desperation. They kept coming... more people, every few days, from surrounding villages and towns... And I kept ambushing and burning them...”
“Shit...” Kellar utters in pure disgust. “You've lost your mind, holy man.”
“Then what?” Veros urges Lias to continue, maintaining a grasp on the little composure he has left despite being clearly furious beyond measure. “What happened to you? Why are you dead?”
“I... finally had enough... I had offered so many to Zerruth, but the mist never went away... Sometimes other undead people would wander into Adderland... and I had to deal with them myself... I grew tired of waiting for salvation, so I tried to kill myself by cutting my own throat... But it didn't work, and I came back, but somehow kept my mind intact.”
“Well, aren't you a lucky one?” Royd bitterly remarks.
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Lias shakes his head once more. “No... Not lucky at all... Every second I'm undead, my flesh decays further... And I continually witness the outcome of my ignorant zealotry and senseless admiration of insane men... I've waited so long for others to come by so I can ask them to kill me. It must be by someone else's hand... Please.” His voice shakes and breaks with obvious desperation.
“You want us to kill you?” Veros inquires, his eyes burning with spite. “You deserve this fate, monk. You helped bring this hell upon the land, all because you followed a lunatic who wanted to control a God. You know, we discovered other undead monks before, and I was foolish enough to feel sorry for them. I assumed they were simply making a routine visit as they sometimes do. Now I know they were the cause of all this.” He turns away angrily, trying to collect his thoughts on all the new, horrifying information that was given to the group.
“Please...” Lias slowly pushes himself off of his cot and falls to his knees to beg for his end. “I told you everything I know... I can't wait for anyone else; I want to die... I want to be truly dead... I've confessed my sins, and I wish for judgement.”
“You've got a lot of fuckin' nerve asking for a merciful death after forcin' not-so-merciful ones on unsuspectin' innocents.” Kellar spits venomous words at the disgraced clergyman. “Why do you deserve it?”
“I don't...” Lias admits, becoming more despairing, his voice almost turning into a wail. “But I just don't want to exist this way... I'll accept whatever eternal damnation awaits me in the afterlife... But please... please don't leave me like this.”
The Mistwalkers leer at the pleading monk with a mixture of pity, disgust, and hatred. It's clear that innumerable mixed feelings are contained between all six of them. They glance at each other, unsure of how to approach the predicament.
“What do you think?” Veros asks Atticus, who's been quiet until this point. “I'm too angry to think straight. I'll let you decide what we do with him.”
The knight glares at Lias's decaying face, whose eyes contain an overpowering aura of desperation and self-loathing. His shoulders tremble under the weight of an impossibly heavy emotional burden – of guilt that he knows he can never truly make up for. Atticus ponders the man's nature. Was he ever evil at his core before this nightmare began? Or rather, was he driven to evil acts by circumstance, as a pawn to a greater scheme perpetuated by the insane ambitions of even more insane men? Even outside of that, would it simply be practical to kill him right now? The knight has many things to ponder before a choice can be made.
“...I say we execute him.” Atticus answers after the extended moment of deliberation.
“You sure that's okay?” Kellar interjects. “I don't know if this bastard deserves an easy way out of his sufferin'. This is all his own doing.”
“He did terrible things, yes. But I believe he was just an accessory to a greater plan. I don't think he would've done the things he's admitted to if he simply decided to stay in Evatica.” The knight calmly explains his stance on the matter. “And all that aside, leaving him here to rot slowly doesn't help our mission to stop the mist. Worst case, he may even truly lose his last bit of sanity and become violent at the next people who come to Adderland, should we fail. If he wants judgement, then we might as well give it to him and move on.”
“Thank you...” Lias prostrates in gratitude. “Thank you, sir knight...”
Veros sighs. “Very well.” He speaks, now much calmer thanks to Atticus's diffusion of the situation. “We'll do this in a... somewhat official way. We need a chopping block.”
“There's one behind the house...” The monk answers.
“Kellar, fetch the block while we take our clergy friend outside.” The veteran commands, and bends over to grab Lias by the arm and pull him up. Maintaining his angry glare, he speaks in a low, threatening tone to the decaying clergyman. “I don't know how a small group of people could cause so much irreparable damage to their own home country, and for something as insane as communicating with Gods with the intent of using them to their own ends. I'd ask you if it was worth it, but I already know the answer.”
He leads the rotting holy man outside, with the others following, except Kellar, who walks to the back yard to fetch the block. They return to the village square, where the charred bodies still lie. Lias gets one last somber look at his horrific handiwork – leftovers of his crazed zealotry. Soon, Kellar arrives with the chopping block in his hands, and sets it down in front of the monk.