The cold, isolating night had a weird energy. Viktor leaned over to Helma with his hands raised. “I think she wants to kill me,” he whispered.

Helma leaned away from Viktor. “Not my problem.”

Code leaned in closer with her knife against Viktor’s throat. Her face was obscured by an iron mask, part of the set of scarlet armor fitted to her body. It had a dull sheen; was that its natural polish, or was it dried blood? Viktor hoped it was the earlier.

“If I kill you, this terrible night will stop, won’t it?” Code said. Her voice was raspy, as if she were perpetually parched.

“Code!” a young woman’s voice called out. The young woman, dressed in a plain scarlet robe, grabbed Code’s arm. “Stop it! There’s not even a wisp of the curse coming off of him!”

Code narrowed her eyes on Viktor before disengaging, not even a little sorry.

“I get why you did that…” Viktor rubbed his throat. “No one bothers to find out the difference between the Harem Temple and that cult, so I completely understand.”

“Watch your tone,” Code said. “Priest and Priestess you may be, the life of my charge outweighs the both of yours a hundredfold.”

The Royal Detector—everyone had heard of her, but no one knew her. Born with [Curse Energy Search], she was the center of the Inquisition’s on-going operations to keep the curse out of Lyrican lands.

But neither Viktor nor Helma had expected her to be so young. One look at her and they’d take her for a newlywed farm wife. Given that the Inquisition’s massive success at curtailing the curse had only come around a little over 10 years ago, then that meant she’d have been working for them ever since she was a child!

Code turned around to pat Searchie on the head like a knife-happy grandmother would. “Sorry about that.”

Searchie nodded. Putting on a game face, she faced the others. “We need to get to Castle Westbreak,” Searchie said. Her tone and demeanor didn’t sound her age at all, a point which Viktor and Helma found both admirable and unfortunate; what things had she gone through?

Searchie pointed one way. “The source of this outbreak is that way.” She pointed the other. “The Castle is that way.” She nudged her finger a little bit. “There’s another possible source that way, but it’s too faint to be the cause.”

“That’s Kalender,” Viktor said. “He should be on his way to the castle as well to stay out of this. You can trust him.”

Code grimaced. “We’ll see.”

Viktor’s eyes widened. “The Inquisition” —

Code halted him with a lazily pointed knife. “I’ve heard about him, and I have orders not to cut him down. If—if— he stays on his best behavior, then I won’t.”

Viktor opened his mouth, but Helma smacked him across the shoulder before he could say anything. “Let it go. We need to get going,” Helma told him.

“Easy to say, but do you have a way?” Code asked. “My abilities can only hide us for so long.”

“Abilities?” Helma asked.

“Stealth. Don’t ask about it.”

When the Inquisition says ‘don’t ask,’ you just don’t. Helma nodded.

“Viktor’s Harem Senses can detect Companions,” Helma explained. “If you can hide us as well, then it’s smooth sailing all the way to the castle.”

“That’s useful,” Code said.

“Then, we’re all in agreement?” Helma said. She looked around, particularly eyeing Viktor and Code. They nodded.

***

Just like they thought, it really was smooth sailing from there—suspiciously so. Viktor’s Harem Senses let them slip past the roving patrols, but the skill wasn’t without its rough edges. Meanwhile, Code’s Hide had a high enough proficiency that it let her hide others, but truth be told, their little group of four was straining the skill’s limits, and more than once did they have to stay perfectly still and hope the charmed knights passed off their missteps as an odd gust of wind.

After too many such moments, they rested in an alley. The castle was just two corners away now; they could see its bastions, and they could hear exchanges of magic and see their flashes light up the night sky. At least they could be confident that the town hadn’t been completely overrun, and that someone was on their side.

Code reassessed their little impromptu survival squad. She had earlier suspected Viktor of being a downright degenerate, but the Priest of the Harem God was surprisingly…normal. He was comparable to a shopkeeper of a bakery with his nondescript face, uninteresting demeanor, and low-bred way of speech. It was such a low bar that she found it hard to expect more of him—and yet, the man’s footsteps were light enough to be a scout’s, and he carried two swords; a closer inspection revealed scratches and nicks from real use.

She was a little more at ease, now—that was, until she noticed Searchie’s fidgeting. The girl always did that whenever she’d noticed something small. They were details that could be dismissed 90% of the time—but the remaining 10% was just too much.

She pinched Searchie’s arm. “What is it?”

Searchie had long learned not to hold herself back when asked. “The source moved a few steps, I think.”

That was, indeed, the least useful information at this moment. Even so, Code couldn’t ignore it, because on the other hand: why hadn’t the source moved all this time?

“We should go,” she announced.

She regarded Searchie for a moment, then glanced away. Years of looking over the child had made her sensitive to even the slightest nervous blink.

Viktor didn’t fail to notice Code’s fleeting glance. She must have cared for her charge more than what her mission demanded of her.

“Go where?” a voice called out. Viktor pulled out his swords in one motion. Code placed herself between Searchie and the source of the voice, while Helma shored up the rear; enemies were sure to approach from strange angles.

There was a laugh from the roof above them. Bathed in moonlight, her scarlet armor was broken, and her long, black hair was in disarray. The way she smiled was crazed—so much more crazed than what Code had gotten used to in all their years of service in the same unit.

“Kilia,” Code said, gritting her teeth. “So he got you, too, huh?”

“Oh, sure.” The woman hopped off and landed some distance away. The darkness behind her shimmered, revealing silhouettes of Republican rifles pointed down the alley. Kilia smiled. “And I’m about to get you, too. Fire.”

The line of rifles created a solid wall made of fire. It was louder than anything the Lyricans had ever seen or heard, but the Republicans didn’t stop there. Not even waiting for the smoke to clear and blinded by their own muzzle flashes, they fired again at the vague blobs of their enemies, ejecting the spent cartridges with a turn and pull of a knob, then taking aim with rehearsed automacity.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Everything around Code exploded in dust and debris. Listening to one of her skills, she moved her knife in a Z-pattern in the air, producing three sparks off the edge of the blade. Despite this superhuman ability, she couldn’t move much faster; there were so many Republicans, it’d be a shock if at least one didn’t manage to hit her. She hoped, at least, that that Republican’s bullet wouldn’t emerge out her back and hit Searchie.

Viktor Redd’s [Blessing of the Harem God: Daniel’s Whim] chose this exact moment to act up. The man himself leaped in front of them, and with his two swords, cut down every single bullet that came his way, seemingly moving faster and faster the more the Republicans started to put him in their sights.

A standard Republican rifle contained five rounds per magazine. Firing 1.2 rounds per second on average, the firing squad burned through all their ammunition in 4.17s.

The haze of the aftermath took a few seconds to clear, but when it did, the Republican soldiers shifted their feet nervously at the sight of a V-shaped pattern of bullet holes hitting everything except for the man they’d been aiming at.

— Somewhere in the divine realm, Daniel had a smug face and congratulated himself for such a well-timed skill activation.

“Oh? The last Priest of the Harem God, huh?” Kilia chuckled. “At least my friends can play.”

More women in broken scarlet armor appeared: on the roofs and blocking the other end of the alley.

Code gripped her dagger. All her sisters-in-arms— “You’re all dead to me,” she muttered.

But Kilia only laughed at her defiance. These idiots’ lives were in their hands, after all. She’d kill Code, then the priestess and the priest. The Royal Detector, she’d bring to Manager, and she’d help him find other Cursed to make himself a little circle of friends. … Oh, maybe they could revive the priestess later. She seemed powerful. Hm…the priest can stay dead.

Kilia grinned. The Republicans reloaded. The fallen Scarlets readied their spears and axes. Against the oncoming onslaught, Code and co. stood their ground.

“Fear no death, sisters!” a rallying cry echoed.

To fight an onslaught, another onslaught was needed. The ground rumbled, and after some shouting among the Republican troops, they pulled back into the street, leaving Kilia and another fallen Scarlet to deal with the Royal Detector’s party.

Just when Kilia thought it would be an evenly-balanced fight, her ears popped and rang with pain, and her hair flew forwards as all air left her lungs. An invisible force shoved her forwards, making her stumble and fall flat against the ground.

She flipped over and saw only smoke. What happened?… was what she thought, but she just didn’t want to admit to herself that the troops behind them had exploded into bits.

It wasn’t over. The ground still rumbled, and she hurried to her feet and raised her sword on instinct. There was a force against her blade and the clang of metal-on-metal that reached even her damaged ears.

The whites of someone’s eyes stared into her soul through the smoke, and as the smoke cleared, she realized a sword was stopped just inches away from her face. As it cleared even further, there was no mistaking it: the black under-dress, white apron, and unnecessary frills and grace…of a maid.

“What a surprise,” Sherry said. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Kilia pushed and knocked away Sherry’s sword. She cut forwards to try and catch her, but she only managed to swipe at the air.

“You’re just a dropout!” Kilia shouted. “Come at me!”

Sherry pulled out a gun with her free hand. “No.” She shot once, twice—five times in rapid succession, forcing Kilia to put her focus into overdrive just to swat away the incoming bullets.

Code, Searchie, Viktor, and Helma all ran past her.

Kilia just caught a glimpse of them in the corner of her eyes, but that single glimpse sent her into a spiral of madness. Me? The top of the class, getting beaten down by irregulars and people with no ambition? What a joke!

Sherry ran out of ammunition, giving Kilia headspace to take in her current situation. The other fallen Scarlets were busy fighting losing battles against other Maids, who outnumbered them two-to-one.

“You’re just Maids!” Kilia cried as she threw her sword like a javelin straight at Sherry, all the while pulling out her main one.

Why was she cornered? These were just the scum of the Inquisition’s recruitment barrel, yet they were fighting toe-to-toe with Scarlet Knights! There was just something absolutely wrong here! Everyone knew the pecking order: the Scarlet Knights on top, and the people who couldn’t make the cut became shadows, and if they failed even that? Shitty Maids! Bottom-tier Inquisitorial housekeeping and post-incident cleanup!

Kilia dashed forwards with a cut faster than wind, imbuing her blade with lightning that lashed out at the air and lit up the alley with blue and cast razor-sharp shadows—and yet, when she cut down, all she’d done was singe a fluttering ribbon.

Left wide open, a knee caught her in the gut, cracking the steel of her armor and completely shattering the parts already cracked. She stumbled backwards and collapsed on her knees. It wasn’t just her armor that had been broken.

Sherry casually reloaded her air pistol. The Clerics of the Temple of Minimine charged down the street behind her, overwhelming the Republicans’ numbers with more numbers.

“I’ve always despised your uppity attitude,” Sherry said. “Do you know why we became Maids?”

— If she’d become a Scarlet, her pride would’ve been handed to her on a scarlet platter. She had wanted a kind of pride she could actually keep, something she could say she’d built up from scratch, and thus was something she could flaunt was hers.

She chuckled and smirked. “Not that you’d want to know.”

All it took was a few millimeters of travel for the trigger for the pistol to pop. Kilia tipped over. Sherry took a deep breath. It was done.

The howls of the charmed were drawing closer like wolves in full moon. Better not dally.

She turned around. “We did what we came to do!” she shouted. The others had overpowered several of the fallen Scarlets, but not all of them. They didn’t need to. “Return to the castle!”

After making sure her subordinates had all heard her order and had started running, she ran down the road herself. Killing Kilia had been an unexpected bonus, but they still weren’t out of the woods yet.

The other side of town continued to rage with explosions and insane amounts of magic. The rumbling that battle made, despite the distance, was enough to dislodge shingles every now and then, and she had to dodge those falling head-splitters.

To her relief, the Royal Detector and her group were right ahead of her. A situation where they’d rescued their target only for them to get done in a short jog later by a falling shingle would have been infuriating.

She’d curse the participants of that battle for being so rowdy, but she felt a familiarity with the magic. It was the same magic that, many months ago, pulsed across Clarinets and turned her heart into mush and instantly fixed her relationship with her sister.

However, the emotion in the air now was not love, but disciplined rage. More than the color of the emotion, its sharpness and refinement scared the hell out of Sherry. She considered giving a prayer for the poor guy who’d incurred Minimine’s wrath, but then that prayer would have been heard by Minimine anyway, and the poor guy would get it even worse.

“Do ’em in,” she prayed.

Everyone kept up the pace to get to the castle to the east. Through winding roads filled with wrecked stalls and the occasional fearful gaze from behind barricaded windows, they finally got to the plaza before the castle.

Any feeling of being on the winning side quickly drained from Sherry’s mind as the squirming outline of a horde stretched from end-to-end.

***

Searchie squeezed Code’s hand as fear spread through her veins; she felt the source of this outbreak moving in a predatory circle, aaaall the way around Harmony.

He was charming everyone.

Viktor and Helma were in front of her, shielding her from the eyes of a horde of women, half of whom were clambering to scale the castle’s wall with nothing but their fingernails, and the other half…was looking at them.

Behind her were the Maids and Clerics who’d come to their rescue. Some of them joined the front, standing side-by-side with Viktor and Helma.

The numbers of their allies were a mild comfort, and the fact that Searchie didn’t have to fight was another, but was that alright? These people were fighting for her sake; over and over, others died for her. Was that really alright? She knew she was important, but she didn’t want to be.

“Hold them off!” the Maids’ leader shouted. “Our allies know we’re out here! If we draw away enough of the horde, they’ll be able to break out and assist!”

Shouting plausible things was what any leader would do to bolster morale. Searchie knew, however, that “plausible” translated into “not happening,” but she was also smart enough not to mention the fact. Even she needed to hold onto some kind of hope.

The Maids’ leader ran up to her. “Lady Detector—miss, look at me.” She shook the young lady’s shoulders, shaking the fright out of her before continuing. “The moment that gate opens, you and your group get in there, and don’t look back. Don’t wait for us.”

Not again, Searchie thought…but doing exactly this had been how she’d gotten this far.

Sherry returned to the rear to lead its defense. At least here, the roads were narrow, and her allies were confident in their aim. As long as we can get the Royal Detector out—and just when she’d thought that, it wasn’t a horde that emerged from the bend in the road.

It was Kilia with a hole in her forehead. The rest of the Scarlet Knights were with her.

***

You're not supposed to see this.

Name: Staccato Lionette (FORSAKEN) Manager

Stop reading.

[Skills]

[Favors]

Charm Radius (100m)

Or do you want a Favor, too?

Run Faster

Jump Higher

No Fall Damage

Iron Hand

It's easy.

Undying Love

Very, very easy.

[Blessings]

[Blessing of the ###### God: Usurper]

Remake the kingdom unto your image. Each female you charm increases your power. Reach milestones and unlock powers greater than what System offers the rest of this pitiful world.

Don't leave me.

[Companions]

9,992 (8 more to unlock next Favor Set)

And I won't leave you.