Uther pushed across the jungle along the river’s edge. He and Damemnos were making their way back in the direction the kraken had previously carried him. The kraken didn’t know in which direction they had left the cave on the eastern Nilelands peninsula or how long he’d carried Uther in the water, but the small creature did at least know from which way he’d entered this jungle. Uther on the other hand, had a pretty good idea he knew where they were.

He was hoping to see some kind of distinct creature, plant, or landmark soon to confirm it though. As they traveled downriver, Uther couldn’t help but think of Lee and Nicholas. He was confident they were still alive when Damemnos had pulled him in the water. Uther was also pretty sure that one of them had actually shouted at him to run when the Prince had activated whatever horrifying ability he had used.

Whatever ability the prince used, Uther had never seen anything like it before and kenw it to be absolutely terrifying. He hoped they made it out and away to warn Skjoldheim. If so, maybe then will they understand his situation better and consider revoking his exile status. He hoped that was the case. While he couldn’t say that Lee and especially Nicholas, were friends, they were still Fettore. He didn’t wish them any harm.

“I hope they’re okay.” He uttered.

…

Back inside the cave, Nicholas coughed out blood as he fell forward. Back when the prince, no, the monster pretending to be a prince activated that horrific ability, everything went terribly wrong for Nicholas and Lee. He hated to admit it, but the damn brat was right. They shouldn’t have taken this job.Yes, this employer was sketchy, but he’d worked plenty of jobs for less than reputable people before, and this was a quest given by the Jarl for Gungnir’s sake. Still, only until it was too late had he realized that both they and their leader were tricked into doing this mission.

When those serpents of darkness emerged from the prince’s body, everything went to crap. Instead of dodging or doing a surprise attack, Nicholas shouted a warning for Uther to run against his better judgment. Maybe it was because he’d felt guilty about doubting the young man. He barely saw Uther fall into the water by the time the serpents were on them. One had bitten out a chunk of his leg straight through his armor as if it was nothing, making Nicholas truly regret using his cloak’s enchantment earlier with the kraken matriarch.

Both Nicholas and Lee fought their best against the prince and the royal’s dark powers, but they were unending. Every time the Fettore fought back, their abilities and spells were consumed and nullified by the strange void ability the royal wielded. The pair did manage to injure the seraphim once. When the serpents had dissipated, Lee had used Spears of Punishment to distract the noble while Nicholas leaped up in the air and used Descending Damnation while their opponent was distracted.

It did hit, but to Nicholas’s horror, it was only a glancing blow. The prince had stepped back just in time to avoid getting skewered, but he did gain a cut across his unblemished face. Prince Seteshan scowled and Nicholas’s eyes widened in shock at the seraphim’s speed. His voidsteel khopesh stabbed through the Fettore’s shadowmire armor with ease penetrating the man’s soft flesh underneath. Seteshan’s scowl turned into a bloodthirsty grin and he flashed his sharp teeth at Nicholas. He pulled out his black weapon and made to decapitate the mercenary, but a sudden attack from Lee’s Gungnir’s Reach ability forced him on the defensive.

Nicholas pressed a hand to his wound and used his other one to grip onto his allies weapon. Lee retracted the spear, pulling back Nicholas and getting him away from the prince. “Are you alright?” Lee asked.

“I’ve been better,” Nicholas spat. Blood was still flowing freely from his leg as he focused on keeping pressure on his abdominal wound. “Still, we proved he can bleed. If he can bleed.”

“We can kill him.” Lee finished for his friend.

“I grow tired of this.” Seteshan said. “Surrender, and I’ll make your deaths quick.” He declared as he flicked Nicholas’s blood off his blade.

“Oh, yeah? The way we see it, you're strong Prince Seteshan, but you’re not invincible. At the end of the day, we’re trained warriors and you’re just an alchemist. You may have some strange powers, but you’re clearly outclassed. Why else would you need us to take down the monsters in the first place?”

A shadow passed over the face of the seraphim as he lowered his head, his confident smirk gone and replaced by a serious expression. He spoke low, but his words seemed to carry to the very souls of his opponents, “I’ll tell you exactly why, greycloaks.” Seteshan’s face then snapped up, a manic grin plastered on his face. At the same time, he unfurled his massive wings. There was a boom of displaced air with the gestured. “It’s because we’re too good at killing.” He cackled.

The prince then clenched his right fist and activated a spell, “Devouring Darkness.” In a blink, all the glowing moss that had illuminated the cavern was snuffed out completely as if someone had blown out a candle.

The two humans went back-to-back and began frantically scanning their surroundings. They had no ability to see in the dark, but they still had countermeasures for it. Lee quickly put on darkvision goggles, but to his dismay, they didn’t work. After they realized they were quite literally blinded, the pair began slowly backing up. They wanted to press their backs against the stone to help limit the directions in which they could be attacked.

Seteshan’s voice seemed to echo out from everywhere all at once. He gave off a menacing laugh that sounded doubled-over on itself, like he was possessed. “We wanted there to be at least a chance that the monsters would survive. So, we thought you weaklings would be the best option. Pathetic.”

“Coward! Show yourself.” Nicholas demanded. There was a sudden whoosh of air, and the glasses-wearing warrior stumbled backwards as the support from Lee abruptly disappeared. “Lee? Lee?!” Nicholas shouted, terror now gripped at his heart. In desperation, Nicholas used every last drop of his mana in a final use of Spears of Punishment. The lights from the glowing spears just barely fought back against the consuming darkness, only illuminating a couple inches around them. Nicholas began firing them wildly in all directions in a vain attempt to hit his opponent.

Nothing hit. The heavily injured warrior continued to back up, scanning back and forth over and over again to find this monstrous unseen foe. A laugh echoed from all around him now. The damn prince was playing with him. The last thing he heard was “Behind you,” before a strong force struck him in the back of the head knocking him unconscious.

Nicholas opened his eyes to find himself bound in thick, braided metallic rope. He realized he was still in the cave. It was no longer illuminated by glowing moss, but by faint candlelight, just enough for his human eyes to see his surroundings. He almost wished he hadn’t been able to see the sight. Out in the water, he couldn’t tell for certain, but it looked like there were a dozen people all around the matriarch’s corpse, biting into it and consuming it like rabid animals. It sent shivers down Nicholas’s spine

He looked down and noticed that his leg had a tourniquet around it, and there was some sort of pressure bandage around his belly to help with his stab wound. It was clearly meant to keep him alive, but the man still felt light-headed from the blood loss. Carefully, he looked to his left, and he was just barely able to suppress a gasp of terror. Just a couple feet away from him, was the corpse of Lee.

The bald man had a look of absolute terror plastered on his face as what looked to be a huge bite wound was taken out of his neck and most of his left shoulder. Lee’s intestines were spilled out onto the wet sand. Nicholas’s heart raced. He had to get out of here while they weren’t focused on him. That was when his heart sank in realization. He couldn’t move. He’d been careful to just move his eyes before he didn’t realized he couldn’t move his body.

There was a flashing icon indicating a status condition change.

Debuff Acquired: Paralyzation

You have been injected with an Exceptional class potent paralytic toxin crafted by a skilled alchemist. As such, you cannot move your body aside from your head for 3 minutes. Time remaining: 15 seconds.

“Uh-uh,” A voice came from beside him, and something poked the right side of his neck. The three minute timer to his debuff had been refreshed, and Nicholas moved his eyes to see Prince Seteshan looking down on him. The seraphim kneeled to stare at Nicholas right in the eyes. The Fettore’s heart sank as the man’s smile was not a kind one. It was evil. “We wouldn’t want you to escape now, would we? One of your lot running away is one person too many.”

That surprised Nicholas. So, Uther did manage to get away. He didn’t let it show outwardly.

“Now, you wouldn’t happen to know where your comrade scurried off to now?” The prince asked with a fake smile.

“Piss off,” Nicholas said before spitting at the royal’s feet. He had no illusions that he wasn’t going to die, so he held nothing back. “When the Jarl hears about this, you and the rest of the Nilelands Empire will regret it.”

“On the contrary, she will never hear about it.”

Nicholas gave the man a skeptical look.

“As I said, the empire can wipe out your annoying nation of barbarians, but it would bring too much attention for Shield Division if we cause such a ruckus with Skjoldheim at the moment. So, we’ll make sure to make your little hunter our scapegoat.”

Before Nicholas could retort, a number of shadowy silhouettes appeared, standing before the pair. “My lord, we have finished consuming the matriarch,” the hoarse voice of what sounded to be an elderly man said. All the figures took a knee to the prince. “We thank you and our illustrious patron for this boon.”

Nicholas’s eyes widened in surprise as what the elderly man had said was confirmed. Though there was very little light in the cave, it was enough for the Fettore to see that there was no trace of the massive kraken left in the water. He had just seen its large corpse a minute ago. How could they have eaten that much that quickly? He thought. “Wha-What are you?” He asked

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Seteshan gave a sharp-toothed grin. “I told you, greycloak. We are Shield Division, loyal servants of the empire.”

On instinct, the mercenary used his Odin’s Eye ability. He couldn’t ascertain much as they seemed to have some defensive measures up to block being analyzed, but he noticed two similarities. They were all bond-wielders to Ra and all had the Zealot feat.

“This..This is not the power of your patron. I may not be an imperial, but I know for a fact that your god Ra uses the powers of the sun, fire, and light, not-”

“Not the powers we use, huh? Technically, you’re correct, greycloak, but not entirely. Where there’s light, there must always be darkness.”

“Where there’s light, there must always be darkness.” The kneeling figures repeated in unison.

“You see heathen, my followers and I have discovered a hidden truth about our dear patron, Ra. There is more than one of him, so to speak. And unlike the rigid and firm god of the sun, our patron admires power and the pursuit of it. He lets us gain power by consuming the living bodies of patrons and their pact-wielders. We don’t gain nearly as much if they’re dead, but still, if the kill is recent, we gain power we didn’t have before.” The prince punctuated his point by reapplying the paralytic venom to Nicholas one more.

Seteshan’s stomach loudly grumbled after that. “Oh, where are my manners? It seems I still haven’t eaten enough to have my fill.” He then grabs Nicholas by the collar and brings the mercenary within inches of his face, the metallic smell of blood obvious from his breath. Nicholas, though terrified, was a Fettore. He would not bow to these cultists. He would fight to the end. He headbutted Seteshan, cracking the seraphim’s nose.

The prince cried out in pain and recoiled but didn’t let go of Nicholas. The winged noble stood up and lifted Nicholas in the air. The Fettore laughed defiantly, “Hahahahaha, idiots. Your patron must be just as dumb as you are. I’m a bond-wielder, not a patron or a pact-wielder. You gain nothing from me. So, just kill me and get it over with, cowards.” He said and spat blood on the prince’s boot.

Seteshan scowled but then gave a blood grin of his own. “Oh, don’t value yourself so little, heathen. You can still be of use to us. I may not get any power from you-” His stomach rumbled loudly again, But you can still serve as an after dinner snack.” Seteshan’s mouth opened wide, and Nicholas felt an abrupt, sharp pain before he felt nothing ever again.

…

Crash! The arm of of Jarl Frogruuf’s chair shattered to splinters from the force of her meaty fist. Notifications streamed across her vision. The quest the empire had given her had been failed, two of her Fettore were dead, and Saberbane, the damn prodigy amongst her elites had betrayed them?! The last one was the hardest to take in. Ever since Ronnie’s death, the doomed had shown nothing but absolute loyalty to Skjoldheim. She could feel Gungnir almost pur in satisfaction at the young man’s dedication.

“Traitor,” she growled then bit down on a large grilled turkey leg. The pair of reforged standing nearby scooted away slightly. When the Jarl got in one of her emotional eating tirades, she tended to..lash out.

“Excuse me, Jarl.” A tired voice said as they opened one of the large doors to her longhouse. It was Carlos The Lax, not seeming to be bothered in the slightest at the sight of his master’s anger.

“What?!” Frogruuf demanded.

Carlos sighed and scratched his stubbly beard, “Another one of the upstarts is here to see you.” Before Carlos could say anything else, Frogruuf had used Reach of Gungnir and extended the divine spear to press slightly against the man’s throat. “Do I look like I’m accepting an audience?!”

To Carlos’s credit, he didn’t bat an eye. “He has a messenger hawk from the Nilelands Empire.”

The Jarl growled slightly but retracted Gungnir and had it go back to its normal size. “Let them in.”

In walked another man, a human Fettore in the typical garb of the clan. He was young, similar in age to Saberbane by his appearance, and he had a well-manicured beard and long blonde hair that made many of the women in Skjoldheim jealous. There was also a telltale smirk to the man that seemed familiar to the Jarl. Then she recognized it. This man was Clark Blackthorn, son of Rowen.

The man’s father was a competent fighter, if not as good as the reforged, but had risen high amongst the Fettore nonetheless. Rowen had a tendency to be arrogant, but he did know how to back it up, defeating many challengers. The man now was the captain of the guard in Skjoldheim, choosing to improve the defenses of their home versus dealing with opponents out in the world.

Clark was rumored to be just as persistent a combatant as his father. Gungnir told the Jarl through their mutual connection that the young man was deadly not because of his direct fighting capability. His unassuming body structure was testament to that. It was his planning and cunning that stood out instead. While Saberbane was similar to a lion who hunted prey, Blackthorn was similar to a spider that laid a trap and lied in wait.

On Clark’s forearm, was a messenger hawk from the Nilelands Empire. The young Blackthorn strode in confidently as if he’d forcibly caught the winged beast and was now parading it as a trophy. “My Jarl, I have acquired an urgent message from the Nilelelands Empire.” He said.

Frogruuf stood up from her partially shattered throne and walked down the stairs to hawk. She looked at the bird straight in the eyes. “Open message.” The hawk’s yellow eyes sharpened and began to glow. It let out a proud screech as it unfurled its wings. Numerous intricate runes appeared and glowed on its feathers, shining with a warm light like the sun. The bird’s body then turned into pure light and morphed to form a small glowing construct that floated where it once stood.

The construct was in the shape of a man, a seraphim by the looks of the tucked-in large wings on his back. His face was clean shaven and there wasn’t a single blemish on his handsome features except for a small cut under his right eye which was green while the left eye was a vibrant purple. He wore the typical glistening white of an imperial officer but wore robes versus armor. Emblazoned on his chest was a solid black shield.

Prince Seteshan, I’m surprised you had the nerve to message me yourself. Tell me, what have you done to my warriors? I’ve lost three of my patron’s chosen in less than an hour.” She scowled.

The prince licked the side of his lips slightly and chuckled. “If they could not handle a simple request as a monster hunt, then the status of your “elites” has certainly fallen low, Jarl Frogruuf.”

The orc’s nostrils flared, “Do not underestimate me boy. This is an act of war, and if you don’t have a good explanation as to why my Fettore are dead, even your father cannot save you from Gungnir’s blade.” She punctuated her point by slamming the divine weapon into the floor, shattering both the wood and stone below with ease. A wave of power surged from the weapon, forcing all but its wielder to take a knee.

Even Seteshan let out an involuntary shiver though he was an ocean away. The noble could still feel the threat the spear posed, despite the distance. It was said that whenever it was thrown, it would always hit its target no matter what. The prince didn’t want to test that out. He ran a hand over his ponytail to give him a moment to compose himself before speaking again.

The noble’s grin quickly returned. “Surely, you would not find the empire so foolish, Jarl Frogruuf. While the three you sent were clearly not of enough quality, we Rezkheteps have been taught from an early age to respect your patron’s power.”

The orc grunted. “Good, then explain, now.” She commanded.

Seteshan let out an involuntary scowl at the command. He clearly didn’t like being told what to do, but he complied. Though he did notice something she’d said earlier, that she’d “lost” three of her patron’s chosen. Did that mean the doomed was dead or something else? The prince had to confirm. He could spin his words to extract the info from the orc without making it obvious that he was unsure. “I suspect you already know. We sent your three-man squad to deal with the threat, and your fabled “hunter” went rogue and killed his comrades. When we went to investigate, he was gone, and the two humans were dead.”

Seteshan continued, “There was plenty of blood, but the doomed was gone.”

“How do you know that it wasn’t this monster you hired us to kill that’s responsible? You’re no tracker. It is well known that you’re an alchemist.”

The prince shrugged, “Krakens don’t leave spear wounds, but your warriors are trained with the weapons. Seeing how their corpses were riddled with them and that our quarry had miraculously disappeared from a dead-end, I put it together. Can your patron track him? Certainly his connection with it can help you ascertain his location?”

The Jarl broke eye-contact from the construct projecting Seteshan and growled.

“So he’s dead then?” Though he asked, it was unnecessary. Frogruuf’s response was all the confirmation the noble needed. He had a sneaking suspicion the greycloak had made a deal and had taken the significance that was rightfully the prince’s. The matriarch and the dead child did not provide nearly enough.

Being the scheming noble that he is, Seteshan pressed this to his advantage. “So, it seems that the empire is not at fault, but Skjoldheim. After all, it was not my agent that went rogue, but your own. It also seems that he even had broken the bond your patron had given him.” He smiled. “It would seem that you owe me a debt for a bounty stolen.”

The orc glowered at the projection straight in the eyes. The air around her form rumbled as power seemed to gather inside her, granted by Gungnir. “Here me now, Prince Seteshan Rezkhetep, Gungnir owes you nothing. I and Skjoldheim owe you nothing. It is that damn boy who stole your bounty. Anyone who would willingly kill their own is no member of this nation.” Her tone and seriousness were both full of fury and formality. “As of this moment, I declare Uther Krillku an apostate of the Fettore and is exiled from Skjoldheim. Any action of treachery on his part to betray the tenants of our creed is not of our doing, and we claim no ties to or responsibility for him.”

At the mention of Uther’s name, Clark, who’d been witness to all this major political discussion, raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Seteshan nodded in satisfaction. “Very well then, Jarl. I accept that declaration. The Nilelands Empire will not seek restitution for losses done, but still, this Uther Krillku cannot be allowed to live. He has spilled the blood of your faction and stolen from mine. Neither of which I presume can be tolerated?” He asked knowingly.

“Of course.” The Jarl agreed.

“Then I will get his pictures displayed throughout the Empire. He will be a wanted criminal known throughout Eldryndr. I will place his bounty at twenty gold on his head. Skjoldheim will pay for half, of course?”

“We of Skjoldheim will pay the entire bounty on one condition, you hold off publicizing Uther’s as a wanted criminal. Gold is not what’s important to us, it is our clan’s honor and creed. By betraying his home and his disloyalty to the Fettore, the doomed has attempted to stain our clan’s reputation. I will not allow this offense to go unpunished. I will send people to ensure Uther Krillku is eliminated with utter certainty.” She declared.

Seteshan kept the same smirking grin as before, not showing any overt change to how he felt. On the inside though, he was cackling in excitement. The brutish heathen leader had acted exactly how he’d wanted. The seraphim noble wanted the hunter dead. He’d seen too much. Seteshan could not allow him to expose Shield Division now after the noble’s years of careful planning were now finally being enacted. That’s why he had actually wanted the Skjoldheim brutes to kill him.

His decree of Uther’s criminal status, was in part, a ruse. By making this not an official decree and approved by the emperor, there would be no need to investigate exactly as to why this Uther was deemed a criminal. Still, Seteshan wanted the doomed dead and quickly.

So, he pressed. “Very well, but you will be given a timeline of thirty days. After that, it will be “open-season” so to speak on this hunter, and your clan’s honor shall be forever sullied by this traitor.” He said before the light promptly changed form and disappeared, turning back into the messenger hawk once more.

The bird let out an angry cry before quickly flying out of the jarl’s longhouse.

“Blackthorn!” The orc shouted.

“Yes, my jarl?” He answered, immediately taking a knee.

“You are familiar with Uther Krillku, yes?”

“Yes, jarl. We had different masters, but we crossed paths often during our training.”

Frogruuf grunted angrily. “Speak plainly.” She commanded then slammed Gungnir on the ground.

Clark let out a slight groan of pain at that as the divine spear allowed the orc to exert her authority over the warrior. “We were rivals.” Clark cried out. “Both he and I fought frequently during our training. We would have been enemies had we not been part of the same clan,” he said, rushing the words out before any more pain could be inflicted.

The jarl just silently nodded. She then turned her back to the kneeling Clark, walked back up to her partially crushed seat of power, and sat back down with a heavy “thump.” “Well, he is no longer part of the Fettore now, is he?”

Clark nodded quickly.

“The doomed is no longer on Skjoldheim and is on the run. Do you believe you can find him?” She asked.

Clark’s brows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Many long silent moments passed before he answered. “..Yes. Yes, I believe I can, my jarl,” he said with growing confidence.

Frogruuf let out a low chuckle, “Hmph, good. Then I have a job for you.”