(“Okay I said I wouldn't let myself get bogged down by this until I was finished but how does a cult draft people!?”)

“Like, in a war, drafted?”

“I guess.” She said, looking unsure.

“Alright, just how large of a pool does your organisation have that they can draft people.”

Her eyes lit up and it seemed she finally understood the point he was making.

“Oh, right. You probably wouldn't know it but we're from a country in the west. The state religion or rather, the church controls the country. So if they call for people to help with various things we have to oblige.” She explained very matter-of-factly.

Tibaut’s eyes shot wide open and he grabbed her shoulders while staring into her eyes.

“H-hold on, you guys control a whole country!? Damn, this is on a bigger scale than I thought. Wait a minute so does that mean all of you are from that country?”

“No, we gather converts as we travel the world but you wouldn't be wrong in saying most of us come from Terra Luciferi.”

“That's certainly a name.”

(“Hoh, now that's interesting.”)

(“Shit you're here!? I better cut this short.”)

“So, uh, Agnes what was that question you asked me earlier?”

She looked like she was about to pass out. (“W-w-why's he so close to me? H-he isn't going to reach into my-”)

Tibaut snapped his finger, with a hand on her shoulder and Agnes snapped out of it.

“Oh, uh, sorry I'm not used to having someone this close to me.”

“My bad.” he removed his hand from her and backed away. Agnes sighed.

“(What am I thinking!? I should be glad he backed away.) So would you at least let me follow you until we leave this area?”

“(Well... She seems harmless enough.) I have no qualms but uh, why? Wouldn't doing essentially get rid of any chance of seeing your family again? You did say you came from a country controlled by this religion so I can't imagine-”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She used her hands to make an X shape.

“I don't mind that fact. This whole guard thing had me on my nerves even before you came. Travelling was a pain too. We'd go days without eating and then when they started making bread with more beans than wheat they'd tell us to be grateful for what our lord has provided for us. Are you serious? I'm sure our Lord is fine and all at the capital but-”

“The capital? Huh, didn't you say you're reviving your lord?”

“They're physical body is there though I haven't gone to see it myself. I've heard they can even blink and breathe (Well, Father Daniel was the one who said that so maybe I shouldn't take it as fact, uh no, he won't be mad if it's wrong right it's not-).”

As she overthought her possible future from this hypothetical, Tiabut sat in silence processing this new information.

“Hold on, then haven't you already revived them then!?” He asked, concerned. He had only just heard about their objectives, so learning they were this far ahead embedded a sense of dread in him.

“Well, it's not like they can speak or move around yet. At least the last I heard. Plus they've been like that since they were first introduced. But get this, I wasn't even going to be in the draft since recruiters don't come to my parish often but my parents sent a letter to the capital when they saw I met the requirements. Can you believe that? Sure I didn't do chores that much but isn't that a bit extreme? Couldn't you guys just let me stay and read books or something? I'm sure I could have been useful as a teacher. Also, the fact that not even a month into my guard duty a guy as strong as you showed up is ridiculous. I don't care about those bastards, there's no way they can expect me to fight guys like you more than once in my lifetime. I don't even like fighting yet they placed me here anyway just because of my magic, like are you shitting me? Sure I can freeze stuff but only if the fucking thing stays still for long enough. I don't care if we don't have many people in our group that can use magic, fighting’s fucking scary. I'm not built for a battlefield, I'm built to lounge around my house and sometimes go to church. I just wanted a comfy life. Why did I have to go into this? Plus don't get me started on how often they move around this parish. I have so man-”

She kept talking and Tibaut found himself stunned into silence by how much her mouth was moving.

(“Wow, she isn't holding anything back.”)

After talking to the point of exhaustion, her cheeks grew red when she realised what she had done. (“Shit, I said way too much. He didn't hear that part about romance novels, did he?”)

“(For someone in a cult, she's not very limited in her thinking.) You can keep going. It doesn't hurt to have a conversation while we walk.”

“Really? (No Agnes, don't let yourself get too carried away. This guy is giving me a chance to move away from all this. Don't ruin it by saying anything dumb! I mean, I feel sorry for the Lord but I'm just not meant to live like this!)”

They both stood up and continued on their walk. Tibaut sighed when he realised he had softened up for Agnes but swore to himself he wouldn't hesitate to kill her if she did anything he thought a cultist member would do. Now that he thought about it, was it okay for him to agree to so readily bring her out of here with him?

As they walked away, the voice lounged in Tibaut's head, muttering to themselves with a smile on their face.

(“Ah, I can sense it. This aura is unmistakable. I can't wait to find you sister. And hopefully, you won't run away this time.”)