Mother Gaia, if ever there was a time for your mercy, this is it. Thank you for your blessing, but I have to ask for more. The armor and horse might not be enough.

Her half-brother stole her armor from the church, on Laria's urging, and delivered it as directed. As an oracle, Laria received a prophecy regarding Walter, and, after being rescued by Sister Lora, Priestess Evelyn ensured it was enacted. Elin wanted to ask more questions, but Favian told her time was of the essence.

Elin took a horse, throwing the pouch of silver that she and Walter had saved as payment, and spurred it to run. When she mounted the animal, she understood that Gaia had answered her prayer. Its intention, its emotions, poured through her, and she to it. Her first paladin ability, [Spiritual Mount], manifested.

Even with this blessing, Elin continued to pray. She trained to be a paladin her entire life, but now she couldn't imagine it being important next to losing Walter.

This is why I was born. I’m coming to save you, Walter.

----------------------------------------

When the Duke of the Rotting Garden snatched up Walter, flying over the rooftops, he eventually landed in a belltower. The view of the Necropolis looked like a charcoal painting. The City of the Dead looked peaceful, as one would expect of a mass grave.

"Please excuse me for my rude methods," the Duke of the Rotting Garden said, "If I hadn't acted immediately, then I couldn't have collected you. Faux is quite powerful."

Walter nodded. "Thanks. For saving me." Instead of being grateful, what he wanted to do was run. However, even though his captor changed, his situation did not. Both were still absurdly powerful compared to him.

I have no choice but to play along.

The Duke tilted his head. "Oh, I didn't save you. Well, I'm no threat, either, unless you become my enemy. While you provide me with use, I promise your safety."

"I don't understand."

"Faux slighted me. I'm paying her back. She wants you, so I'm interfering." The nosferatu curled a finger on his chin. "She's probably destroying my well-tended garden, so I shall have to toil extra hard to keep you safe. Yes, how delightful."

"You're a monster from the Sorcery Chronicle MMO," Walter said.

"My dear [Player], I'm offended." The Duke theatrically placed the back of his hand against his forehead, then returned to seriousness. "I'm not from the MMO, I'm from Sorcery Chronicle II, and I was one of the boss monsters. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

The trivia floated through Walter's mind. "Defeating you was required to class-upgrade Viktordromos. You're Kieran, Curse of the Earth."

"Correct! Ah, it feels good to be famous, and this will surely raise my standing with the others. I haven't used that name in so long I forgot about it, myself. Though it's striking, you're quite calm about all this."

Walter stared at the nosferatu as if the monster just told a joke in bad taste. "Because there's nothing I can do about it."

"Fatalism. That's fitting." The Duke began to descend the stairs from the belfry. "Well, let's have dinner while we wait. Miss Faux should rant a little more before our confrontation."

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"I don't drink blood," Walter said.

"And I do not drink water."

Walter ached, a pain he hadn't felt since he began his rucking with the supplier's pack, and he was grateful to sit down. Downstairs, the Duke prepared a simple room with an empty table. The dinner that the Duke invited Walter to was, in reality, sitting at the table and talking. Walter's sense warned him that correcting this would be rude, and the nosferatu was sensitive to such behavior. In a way, Walter was grateful dinner was a farce.

The most I can do is play along and wait for my moment.

"If I may, I'd like to ask you some questions," the nosferatu said after both took a seat, "Please, be forthright, it's important. Now that you're here in the world, what are your intentions?"

"'My intentions?' What do you mean, 'My intentions?' It's everything I can do to survive, and I can't do it myself. I'm level zero." Walter restrained his voice, but it was clear his anger seeped through. In the back of his mind, his fear warned him not to insult a monster that could end him with a mere gesture.

"Pardon my phrasing." The nosferatu bowed his head momentarily. "I seek to know your motivation if you have power. What would you do?"

"I don't know," Walter said. He measured each word. "I haven't thought about it."

"Surely, [Players] have a well-developed imagination?" The nosferatu smirked. "Have you heard of the Three Qualms of Heroism? It's a sermon, a warning, and evaluating [Heroes] along those lines is the mission of the Order of the Witness. A hero is determined to be an enemy of humanity or not, depending on a witness assigned to them. I was around for the Blood Crusade and witnessed the destructive power of the [Heroes] when ethics do not restrain them. Some killed for sport, destroying more than a monster would care to, to merely stave off boredom. Others conquered territory and forced the populace under their horrendous rules, and to survive in their lands meant placating their whims. The kindest might be those that amassed harems for sexual gratification. I could only aspire to such villainous behavior. Dead love might be better than a lost life. So, when I ask, 'What would you do,' I want to know how depraved you are."

Walter opened his mouth and closed it several times, before saying, "Is this a trick question?"

"It is not. Are you under the impression your life is on the line? I assure you, I made a promise to protect you. So long as you do not become my enemy, I will not act to harm you. So, tell me, Walter, does it excite you to kill, do you enjoy making women do what you want, do you crave the people to grovel?"

"No," Walter said.

"Have you not?" The nosferatu opened his arms, diplomatically, "You've killed something weaker than yourself, after trespassing. You took a woman to your bed. I can smell it on you."

Walter didn't answer.

The Duke of the Rotting Garden nodded. "Faux visited me, investigating you. She's quite keen on the idea of being a monster, though she misses the point. We don't exist to win. Well, make no mistake, we won't intentionally lose, we're designed to challenge, and we'll kill you if able. I think this is an oversight Ouroboros committed simulating those games. Or, true to chaos, she didn't care and acted without reason. Initially, I thought your arrival was a mistake."

The monster's politeness was so off-putting that Walter felt unnerved.

It continued, "After Faux asked me about you, my interest was piqued, once again. So I did a little investigation of my own. You're aware you arrived via [Dimensional Portal]?"

"If you mean I knew I was brought here by magic," Walter said, "then yes."

"There is a counterpart called [Dimensional Window]. Easier to cast, but just as useless so long as Ouroboros blocks the connection. But, I daresay, since I'm a high-level monster, and you're a [Player], perhaps she'll make one exception, and let you peek?" The Duke of the Rotting Garden asked, "Would you like to know how corrupted you are?"

Walter nodded. Information was the only thing he had going for him. More could only help him now.

After he learned the truth, he regretted thinking this way. Ignorance was bliss. He threw it away.

The nosferatu employed the help of a lich, standing before a black mirror. What Walter saw made him realize his death would mean nothing.

Kieran, The Duke of the Rotting Garden, Nosferatu of the Necropolis, asked, "Now that you know your true form, shall we be allies?"