The beasts surged at them, shrieking.

Sahshir stepped aside from the lunging tentacles and removed his blade to cut them down. Amysta drew out her axe and cleaved one in half as he did. Yet the two body pieces merely separated and continued clambering toward them. Sahshir slashed through one with the Sword of Order, and it screamed. As it did, the body bubbled and fell into nothingness.

The creatures withdrew for a time, but Sahshir found the hallway had changed. It was now a place of ancient stone and clinging slime. "What are these creatures?"

"A particular creation of mine," said Amysta as she walked on, axe propped over one shoulder. "I formed them from fusing the souls of hundreds of rapists into a single tormented mass. They are in constant agony as their souls tear at each other. Their only escape from that is to find more prey. So I found great entertainment feeding young maidens to them.

"My sister called it wasteful. But seeing those maidens broken and gradually merged into the beasts was no waste. Their spirits gradually twisted into mere extensions of the monster's will."

Amysta was a monster, even among the worst demons. That much was clear. Sahshir thought of human bodies being warped and twisted and felt bile in his throat. No wonder she had been overthrown.

As they walked through the halls, the creatures would come at them. Every so often, they'd have to stop to fight them off. And there were always more where they came from.

"How is it that these creatures reform when you slay them?" asked Sahshir.

Amysta smiled proudly. "Most raishans are only formed from one soul, at most. Either that or they are automatons created from lifeforce. But my tentalus are made by forcing souls to occupy the same place.

"Even if you kill one, the other souls can seize control of the broken body parts and use them against you. Quite brilliant if I do say so myself."

"With such talent, I wonder why Melchious turned on you?" noted Sahshir with sarcasm.

"He was always far too softhearted for his own good," snapped Amysta. "Always limiting himself to breaking bodies and spirits. He never had the stomach for torments, though he could have been the best if he had."

Sahshir had been considering things. This monster needed to be stopped. He doubted Baltoth would have any use for her. And to let her maintain a permanent presence in the world was unthinkable. But if he were to kill her here, he would not be able to find Garacel. Then again, Garacel would probably kill him in the first place.

He should just steal the Grail of Immortality and cut his losses. That alone would be a significant achievement and would provide some moderate revenge. He also might survive stealing it.

With that decided, they came into a large round chamber. Stained glass windows surrounded it, showing beautiful images of gods and demons. There were thousands upon thousands of pictures in every shape and size. How many stories were told here?

This was an actual work of art. The tales of all the races stretched out around him. They all lead toward a singular destination. It stood there, upon an altar, the culmination of all stories. Finally, the Grail of Immortality was resting on a stone hand. It was a dull brown cup, like that a carpenter might drink from. Amysta walked forward and reached for it.

Sahshir prepared to strike. He would cut her head from her shoulders as soon as she had her hands on the cup, not her weapon. After that, it would be a mercy to her host and justice for her. But as Amysta touched the Grail, her hand passed through it.

A light began to emanate from it, and that light spread to her fingers. Amysta raised her hand as it became translucent, pouring through her. Then, letting out a scream, she fell backward and hit the ground with a thud.

What had happened here?

Amysta rose, but her posture was different, submissive instead of proud. She looked at Sahshir without recognition. Somehow, the Grail has driven Amysta from Narcissa's spirit. There was no need to kill her now.

"You..." began Narcissa.

She grasped for her axe, but Sahshir knocked it aside before bringing up his sword and setting it to her throat. "When they find you, say you fell defending the Grail."

Then he dealt her a precision strike to the neck, sending her unconscious. She slumped to the ground, and Sahshir stepped over her. Reaching out, he took hold of the Grail and was filled with an unworldly power. It surged through him ultimately, and he felt a sensation in parts of his skin that had gone numb years ago.

He raised the cup and wondered why he was seeking the Grail?

It was for the glory of Baltoth.

But why did he seek that?

The answer was obvious. He existed to serve Baltoth like all others within Calisha. His whole life was dedicated to his service and the service of Order.

But what if the two were at odds? What if Baltoth became a source of chaos?

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The answer was clear. Then Sahshir would serve Baltoth. For he was Inexorable, and Sahshir had sworn himself to his service.

The Grail seemed to search through him. Finally, it relented, and he took it from the altar. At last, it was him, warmly held in one hand.

Now it was time to get out.

Sheathing his sword, he picked up Narcissa and slung her over one shoulder. If he left her here, the tentalus would devour her, and he didn't like the idea of feeding the beasts. Picking up her axe, he brought her through the halls. Yet they were different now. The slime was gone, and he saw all manner of strange images.

When he reached the crossroads he had come to with Amysta, he kneeled and set Narcissa down. Then, drawing his sword again, he went up the stairs and back into the altar hall. And he found an older man waiting for him. In his hand was a katana of his own, and though he was bent with age, he took a stance as soon as Sahshir saw him. "Hold where you are, thief!"

"So, one more fool," said Sahshir. "That fool Narcissa could not halt me. And you imagine you can. No matter."

"Narcissa?" said the old man. "You will pay for harming that girl!"

Then he surged forward. They passed each other, but neither of their blades found their mark. Turning around, Sahshir found himself driven back across the altar hall.

Sahshir halted his retreat and locked blades with the older man. He saw the priest smiling wildly. And he could not overpower his guard. "You are a skilled old man."

"And you are spry for a leper." said the old man. "I was a Battleluster for years. Do you think I lived to old age by mending flesh?" Then, with a mighty shove, Sahshir was sent stumbling back. But he let himself fall and somersaulted backward, setting the Grail on the ground as he did so.

As the old man pursued, Sahshir rolled aside from him and brought his sword at his neck. But the blade did not find its mark, and he was forced on the defensive again. Finally, they halted a few feet away from each other.

"I can see it is not so," said Sahshir. "But old age consumes all. For in the words of Baltoth, Time is the ultimate adversary. It will overtake you."

"Not today," said the old man.

Their blades met for a moment, and then they passed each other. For a moment, they were still. Then, the old man's sword broke in twain from a clean cut. He fell to one knee, breathing heavily. And then, through the door, came another figure. She was identical to Narcissa but with shorter hair. She surged at Sahshir with a mace, and he ducked and weaved beneath her onslaught. Then, ducking around one of the pillars near the edge of the room, he flinched as the pillar shattered.

The girl surged toward him, and he barely halted her mace with the Sword of Order. "You resemble that girl. A relation," guessed Sahshir. "No matter."

Catching her wrist, he slammed an elbow into her and knocked the mace from her hands. She recovered and put on a ring even as she fell back. From there, she took a stance with her bare hands.

Sahshir scoffed. "You would fight me barehanded? Then you are-" He was punched in the chest and sent flying backward. He barely adjusted himself to spin around the pillar instead of smashing into it. Then, landing, he slashed at the charging woman. She leaped over it and brought a double-handed smash toward him.

Sahshir spun away and yielded ground. "-significantly more dangerous than I judged."

"I see you have learned much under Lord Garacel, Alkela," said the old man. "Hold him at bay. I must see to your sister."

Sahshir could still win this. He was faster. If he kept on the defensive, sooner or later, she would tire. Then-

Alkela broke a pillar in half and threw it at him like a javelin. Time to leave.

Sahshir ran for it, hardly ducking in time to avoid being crushed. Then, sprinting to the doors, he threw them open and fled into the empty streets. At least he had the Grail of Immortality now.

And then raishans appeared.

Lots of raishans.

With only one hand, he found himself barely able to survive. The twisted creatures pressed him from all sides. Then kunai flew from above and impaled them. Nayasha and her assassins descended, hacking through them.

"You have been busy," said Nayasha.

"I have the Grail of Immortality," said Sahshir.

"Good," said Nayasha. "I've opened the gates. Even as we speak, the legions of Dinis are about to enter the city. We'd best get off the streets before they enter.

"I am pleased to hear that you learned at least something in my teachings."

As they reached the roof, horn calls sounded, and fighting was heard. The raishans coursing through the streets turned their attention to the walls. Above the mountain loomed a many-headed shadow that feasted on the life force of all who died.

Minutes passed, and Sahshir saw the shadow growing. It fed on the energy of every life ended here. Finally, he could see the heads gaining more form.

Monsters were now streaming through the streets. People were fleeing from their houses to the temple in desperation to escape. The Legions of Dinis were also in the streets, fighting with them.

Any found by the legions were killed at once. Any found by the raishans were devoured. The defenders of the city were scarcely able to hold back the tide. And Sahshir was sitting here, waiting.

"So many," said Sahshir.

"Leave them," said Nayasha. "The city is doomed. And that is a good thing."

Sahshir could leave. People were being slaughtered, and he was doing nothing. No doubt, the demons were sitting on high, laughing. Fury came to him as he realized he was but an afterthought to them. Abdul Sahshir was no more than a thief in the night to their eyes. No, no, he would show them just who he was. He rose and drew his sword. "Take the Grail and leave. I will remain and deal with these."

"You have your orders," said Nayasha.

"Does Tuor hold authority over me?" asked Sahshir, not keeping the scorn from his voice.

"He does," said Nayasha. "And you are a fool to ignore him."

"And you are a coward to abandon the fight," said Sahshir. "Go if you will.

"I will gain victory here or die trying."

"Do as you wish," said Nayasha.

Then she departed.

Why was Sahshir doing this? He knew on some level that he would likely be overwhelmed and killed. But as he walked, he considered that he was not likely to last much longer in this life. He'd been taught little about the ruling, and Asim would probably act against him sooner or later. Failing that, his disease would claim him.

It is better to die in battle than by poison. And he despised the idea of fleeing. Yes, he was trying to stop the flow of chaos itself. But was that different from what the purpose of Order was? To stand from the darkness of animal instincts and impose your will upon it. To proclaim that you will not stand for madness, even if all the world conspires to aid it.

As chaos has its uttermost source in the world, so does Order have its uttermost source in the self. That is why he would fight for Order. Even amid oblivion, he would fight for it. The universe is without mercy or honor. But he was not. Those around me care nothing for right or wrong. But he would serve right. And from his words and deeds, there would be Order, if only for a moment.

That was his purpose. Those who opposed him would be destroyed.

Sahshir saw a group of civilians fleeing from armored men with rectangular shields. They were here for the killing and plunder.

They would achieve neither against him. Sahshir charged into battle.