16.5
Sniff, sniff…
“Where did they go?”
The dry, rough texture of bark made contact with Aurelius as his ears twitched at the air surrounding him, his eyes darted in the forests of Meastes in search for the four women that he had trailed after.
Ever since John's mysterious disappearance after having gone to grab his weapon, Aurelius, instead of idling in the ward room, went to investigate the whereabouts of John.
The beastkin followed John’s scent, leading him to Team Rectiser’s campsite, but when asked, all four members reported not having seen John.
Aurelius however, knew better.
Having met up with everyone, his sensitive nose caught John’s musk on Kirksten, despite Kirk denying outright for having not seen John.
Keeping his findings to himself, he observed Kirksten in hopes that he would lead him to John.
No sooner after dusk came, Kirk excused himself to Team Rectiser, under the pretense of meeting up with ‘fellow old friends’.
Unbeknownst to Kirksten, Aurelius followed from the shadows.
Following Kirk lead Aurelius to discover Kirk’s meeting with the four females. Though he stalked them from afar, he was able to pick up their conversation with his superior hearing and smell.
He did not understand many things the four females exchanged with Kirk, things about having to gain an advantage in an upcoming war, about something that happened to Cacti long ago, about how amusing it would to see the hero’s party’s Angeline Grisst lose her mind is she knew she sent John to their embrace.
Having done his part, Kirk and the four women parted ways.
Aurelius needed no more reason to follow the footsteps of the four women.
It was what led him into traversing the woods of Meastes once more, despite how dangerous it was.
He could have ran back and alerted Bran, Matilda, and Cacti. But he was not about to let the four women who knew where John was.
And if he did told Bran what happened, how would the rest of the team react?
Were they also working for the four women like Kirksten was?
For John, as stubborn as he may be, was still a good friend to Aurelius.
There were countless times Aurelius would have had his life cut short but did not. It was thanks to John who helped prolonged his husk of a being. It was John who fought for him when everything around his world came crumbling down.
From when John who first healed his wounds on his first day in Moxnet, to when they were in the vampire’s den, John was there for Aurelius. To aid someone as empty as he was.
He thought that by staying by John’s side in the vampire hideout, he would somehow aid his human friend to escape, when in fact, Aurelius only caused more trouble for his friend.
All Aurelius wanted was to express his gratitude to him, as a friend for what John did.
Ever since they embarked on this aptitude test trip the academy organized, it was one event after the other. If he can’t help pull John out from the darkness that plagued him, at the very least Aurelius could be there when no one else could.
To him, John was just like the long-lost sister he once had.
He was family.
With his evolved sense of smell and hearing, he traced the four women from a safe distance of roughly a kilometer away as to avoid himself from being detected.
But suddenly, they disappeared from his detection.
Aurelius retrieved a small booklet from his pocket, flipped through it as his nose and ears worked furiously to figure out the four women’s trails that had suddenly disappeared from his detection.
Inside the booklet were lines and lines of scribbles that he himself written. The journal jotted down his thoughts and experience after he had left the monastery and journeyed on his own, about how he traveled the Demon Desert and how he came to the Empire decided that this was where he would live out the remainder of his life.
He took out a pen and began a new page.
Entry 826:
Having discovered what happened to John and what Kirksten did. I am now on the trails of the succubus called Prishine and her three attendants. I am unsure where I am in Meastes, however, I am certain they are nearby, and so would John be.
Aurelius stopped his pen in the midst of writing, moved his hands into his pouch and felt a pair of tattered gloves that he had kept on him.
These were the exact gloves that he had given to John.
It was removed from John himself after his confrontation with the vampires and was entrusted to Team Rectiser for safekeeping.
The wolfkin’s ears dropped like an abandoned pup as he continued his writing.
I have still yet to thank him for using his healing magic on me when we first met, and the various instances after. In someways I think—
Aurelius’s pen stopped in his tracks when he flipped to the next empty page.
“Oh...”
An empty voice rang out from his throat as he stared at the final page in his journal.
The ending to his journal.
He quickly shrugged his emotions and resumed.
—he treats everyone kindly, is because, like me, he has no family himself.
As I write on the last page I have left in this book, I wish to apologize to you, my sister, for having never been by your side, mentally, physically or spiritually. I fear that my time is near, as when the gloves become torn, the book gets filled up, and finally, the scimitars—
Boom!!!
Suddenly, the ground beneath him rumbled. Aurelius’ pen fell from his grasp and dropped to the soil beneath him.
“Fault line?”
Without bending over to pick up his fallen pen, Aurelius quickly placed his journal back inside clothes for safekeeping.
Sniff, sniff.
His nose twitched once more.
“That’s…” his eyes blinked rapidly as he caught a whiff of a pungent stench that was only best described as roses dipped into petroleum. “The succubus!!!”
Aurelius’ ears immediately jolted upwards as his ears picked up oncoming voices. Without even thinking, he ran with all his might using all of his enhanced wolfkin strength as he rushed to where he heard the voices from.
“I’m on my way, my brother.”
Inside the most heavily guarded venue in Registoria, a part of the imperial castle where only a select few of individuals knew about the exact location of its existence.
Therein laid a vast space that was far spacious than any of the imperial facilities of Dezarith Empire.
A space strongly fortified by layers and layers of barrier and detection magic, along with intricate traps that would instantly eliminate any and all intruders instantaneously.
It was the chambers of the Immortal Emperor and Empress. The most hidden and fortified space within the Dezarith Empire.
Stolen story; please report.
Crackle.
A zap of electricity streaked from one wall, striking at the center of the ground.
At where the bolt of lightning ended its trail, the solid figure of a man appeared, smiling in triumph for having made past all defenses that were placed in these chambers.
“Ahhh…” the man let out a soft sigh as he cracked his neck, stretched himself as though he just finished a high intensity workout. “She has gotten quite extreme, hasn’t she?”
…
Though the man from the lightning spoke aloud, the fact remains that there was no one in the room to reply to him.
“Right? Goldstein? Righttttt???” the man turned his gaze towards one of the silk woven chair lathered in gold behind him. “Come on, is that how you greet the majestic hero who slew you an Elder Dragon?” the man gloated as his violet eyes surged with electricity, glowing in the dimly lit chambers.
“Cease your prattling, Fester. I have no need for a child’s ruse.”
At the deep rumbling voice of an elderly man, green aura condensed at Fester Aquilla’s throat with great pressure, squeezing the previous hero’s throat along with the breath that was in his lungs.
“I-I…was…j-just conc-cerned.”
Smile still on his face, Fester choked out his words towards a burly elderly man that slowly came to his view as the invisibility magic on the elderly man faded, revealing the wrinkled face of Goldstein Dezarith and his large build.
“I-I...w-was...also...affected b-by it, r-remember!?”
“…”
After a delay, the Immortal Emperor released his spell on Fester, allowing the prior hero to regain his breathing capabilities.
“Is that how you treat your loyal subjects, your h-highness?”
“For someone who pranced through multiple layers of tier 6 spells and avoided a tier 8 detection spell, I have to be certain of your intentions.”
With a hand rubbing his neck, Fester spoke, “Even you are behaving like your wife. If you aren’t careful, you will take the step into the realm of insanity just like her—”
“Watch your mouth, imbecile.”
The green aura grew once more at Fester’s neck.
This time there was no crushing pressure on him, but strong acute pain that could only be associated with the sharp edges of blades. Any more of Fester’s nonsense, the Emperor would force his powers on Fester’s neck and cleanly sliced the previous hero’s head off his shoulders.
“M-my apologies, your highness. I am here to speak of matters regarding her Empress, Loirmeil Dezarith,” Fester halted his jest and immediately adopted a formal voice.
“You may speak,” Goldstein spoke, but the spell on Fester’s neck was yet to be released.
“Regarding our information loss, the associate of Loirmeil who goes by the name of Prishine is none the wiser. It seems that many of the plans that her Highness previously devised were not revealed to her.”
“That much is a given. The succubus was only to observe the hero. It still does not explain why…” Goldstein’s voice softened as he nudged his eyes into a room to his right, “...she is the only one plagued by an inescapable fear. Every waking moment, it seems though an unspeakable horror appears to her, it is as bad as a few hundred years ago…”
“That said, Prishine, the succubus, was not affected like us. She retained her memories that could clue us in on what was lost among our archives and minds.”
“What?!” the Emperor’s voice roared, “Speak now, Fester!!!”
“Calm down, old man. It’s because she was in the academy monitoring Scywell’s actions. Out of Loirmeil’s vessels, she was the least involved with her highness’ schemes, she too was also stationed in the academy, making her least unlikely to be targeted, our assailant may not have taken students into account when they erased our minds.”
“Make your point.”
“Prishine was sent to Moxnet academy to monitor Scywell Shatterstep’s progress in his allegiance towards the empire. That was what’s recorded in our archives. But according to her, she was also nudged by Kaldor Klarizan to secure a pawn for our upcoming plans against the Eastern Continent. Namingly, a boy who went by the name of John Sarvod.”
“A pawn? An Eastern Continent individual student would not do much as war asset.”
“And what of an individual who not only received the recognition of Scywell Shatterstep but at the same time, is recently awakened as a demon?”
Goldstein Dezarith’s eyes grew.
What Fester said to him was not out of possibility nor a stretch of imagination for an elderly man like him who lived a long life, it was still an unusual occurence.
“John Sarvod. A human of unknown origin, the only records of him were that he was a victim of the vampire massacre in Parac Village. The associates he has are… Grk!”
A surge of pain throbbed his mind, causing the former hero to stiffen his body as he awaited for the pain to subside.
“...n-none.”
“None?”
“That is correct. It was what Prishine confirmed, aside from the hero’s party, who John had denounced after the massacre in Parac Village, believing to be the fault of Scywell Shatterstep. In addition—”
“This is just an insignificant individual Loirmeil has planned to use. I do not lose an ounce of sleep if his details were wiped along with our thousands of archives. Someone like him has no influence, tell the succubus to not bother us with misinformation that involves her unbound lust.”
“Understood,” Fester lowered his head to a bow. “I will keep searching for more leads as you have instructed, your Highness.”
Goldstein released his magic on Fester, allowing the previous hero to leave as Fester dusted his uniform.
“Before you leave, Fester. When I restricted you earlier, why did you not use the powers you have taken? I am certain with powers from the Archangel of Love, my magic can be easily nullified.”
Fester raised a brow.
A mischievous grin appeared on his face as though he were a child who was up to no good, “Strange of you to want to deepen our bond, Goldstein. Not that I am apprehensive—”
“Celian Agnes, the chosen of the Archangel of Love. You have her abilities, don’t you? She possessed the ability to conjure fire with just her thoughts, fire so strong that the tier 8 spells could not stand against her magic. I am sure you could have used it to counter [Servitude Domination] earlier.”
Celian Agnes, the dwarven hero that came before Scywell Shatterstep had awoken to his heroic prowess, was a lady who was supposed to succeed Fester Aquilla. Had tragically ‘died’ during the incident of Fester’s slaying of an Elder Dragon.
Fester only smiled.
Knowing what the Immortal Emperor was trying to gauge from him, Fester more than amused.
“For someone who is chosen by the Archangel of Truth. You are almost as corrupt as this senile ruler,” Goldstein Dezarith spoke, almost chuckling at his own words. “This is coming from one who’ve taken the Demon Lord of Ruin as his Empress.”
Fester made no action as Goldstein spoke.
“Have you ever felt any remorse for her? For Celian,” Goldstein asked, having felt nothing for the deceased female hero, his stormy eyes widened as he fixated his gaze on Fester.
“Remorse? I know nothing of that.”
Fester’s reply was astute, but the mischievous look on his face did not wane. In fact, the Immortal Emperor’s question only fueled to grow the crackle of excitement in his eyes.
“Is that the verity of your emotions? Chosen of the Archangel of Truth?”
“I simply did what I needed to achieve my goals. That is the only truth that mattered. It is the same reason I lend my efforts to you and that demon wife of yours.”
“Heh, is that so? What of your duty towards the people? The very ones that a hero like you is supposed to protect.”
“People? People are only people if you view them as such. I have no interest in collateral damage. The only person I answer to, is myself. No archangel or collateral damage will stop me from the ultimate truth. Mind your own business, Goldstein, you need not to pry into my goals.”
Having finished his warning, electricity surged throughout Fester’s body.
With a deafening zap, the previous hero of the empire vanished from Goldstein’s sight.
“Elder Dragon Slayer, Archangel Slayer, you walk a dangerous path, Fester Aquilla. Be warned of what your ambitions would cost you.”
The Immortal Emperor returned to his seat with his head shaking, unable to comprehend Fester’s twisted character.
Although the Immortal Emperor had powers that could rival Fester and Scywell combined, Goldstein Dezarith was not delusional to where he would actively seek to take down beings like archangels, especially archangels that granted.
Perhaps it was him getting up in the ages. As a human in his seven hundreds and one of the most powerful beings in the known mortal world, he saw no merit in disturbing the higher powers like Fester did to the Archangels.
Only a madman would be insane enough to conceptualize the idea of destroying the very patrons who had granted him the power he had, let alone act on it.
Certainly, Goldstein was power hungry and wished to prolong his human life. His search for true immortality whilst expanding his empire can only last so long before his human body crumbles, but even he knew that Fester Aquilla vanquishing the Archangel of Truth and consumed the Archangel of Love was something that defied the natural order of things.
Goldstein placed two fingers on his ear spoke to the other end of [Message].
“There you have it. Your very hero has turned against what he stood for. Aron Olbaz’s assessment was not unfounded, he was right to investigate the murders that happened around the time our memories were surgically altered.”
Goldstein nodded as he listened in on the other end.
“Correct. I leave the details to the rest of the council, you have my authority to command Loirmeil’s remaining underlings to aid in your purpose until the Immortal Empress has recovered.”
As the Immortal Emperor was about to stop his [Message] spell, a question from the other end halted him.
“I too suspect him of being the one who tempered with our memories and the various archives we had, all the while erasing his own mind in the process to fake his innocence. He is the only person I know capable of such atrocities.”
The telepaths that Registoria had were few and far between, to achieve a feat that erased not only of the Immortal Emperor and Immortal Empress’ memories but along with hundreds of well-secured archives, required not just a powerful individual like Fester, but someone who had the gall and dedication to commit to such draconian acts.
The Immortal Emperor knew that Fester Aquilla had no abilities that involved the mind. One of Loirmeil’s vessel had the ability wipe the minds of a small town or replaced their minds with false memories, but she too had been affected by memory erasure despite being stationed to Moxnet Academy to also observe Scywell Shatterstep due to Prishine’s erratic nature.
This was how Goldstein was able to deduce Fester Aquilla was actively working against the empire. The countless vampire attacks that occurred, the sudden loss of sensitive archival data, the nonsense that he spouted about a boy being an awakened demon.
By conventional logic, it was impossible for a non-mind magic user or non-charm magic user to do create such a horrible loss of the strongest empire known to exist. He was even able to drive an age old fear into the Immortal Empress that only Goldstein knew.
There were many ways Fester could achieve this, whether it be collaborating with the Sovereign or the Eastern Continent, Goldstein could not care who it was.
He had many enemies,
But Goldstein knew Fester Aquilla was a man deranged enough to commit such an atrocities.
“Unholy Tyrant, your treason will be noted.”
The mere concept of a being much more powerful and devoted than Goldstein could ever know, had enacted the information loss that the Empire suffered from, did not register in his mind at the slightest.
It was impossible.
No one, with that amount of power, was that immature to disrupt a fully functioning empire, Goldstein knew his political rivals well, he had already considered all the possibilities of it being a foreign involvement, but none of them could have done such a thing.
For if one had the power to wipe even the Demon Lord of Ruin’s mind and leave her traumatized with fear, said person could have brought the entire Dezarith Empire down to its knees if they so wished.
Unless it was done by someone that held no stake in the world.
But it made no sense, if they wished to destroy the Empire they could have done so with that kind of power.
However, beings like that did exist in the world.
But as Dezarith Empire grew, their grasp on the reality of the world around them.
Their minds have become distorted to the point where the madness of Fester Aquilla persisted in every Dezarithian.
Demons became the hounds the empire used to exert their power, common knowledge were replaced with lies, Gods no longer exists, and the angels they prayed to were vanquished.
As for Elder Dragons, they were easily slain.
Therefore, it made no sense that anyone else but Fester Aquilla was responsible for the information loss.
That was why, when he asked Aron Olbaz to aid investigating what happened, Goldstein and the rest of his men could only come to the conclusion that it was an inside job.
It completely slipped their minds that among the powerful beings they thought to have conquered was responsible for this.
Afterall, it was impossible that some young telepath with immense power could erased their memories and rid them of their important archives.
Unfortunately, the Empire would not learn nor remember of the identity of this entity. Much less remember the draconic origins of the person who made them forgot.