Glenn forced his eyes open, his head ringing painfully. He coughed out a thick lump of coagulated blood, a gentle hand pushing him back on the ground.

“Don’t move, I’m almost done,” A gentle voice ordered with a soft yet commanding voice. Glenn’s blurry sight cleared up, letting him discover the priestess from earlier kneeling beside him, her hands glowing with golden light as she treated him. Glenn silently obliged, leaning back as he slowly recovered his senses.

‘Well, it could have gone MUCH worse,’ Diamanes suddenly commented, startling his host. Glenn winced as the pain in his chest intensified.

“I did warn you not to move,” sighed the priestess. Glenn forced a weak, apologetic smile.

“...Sorry. Couldn’t help it. I’m Glenn, by the way.”

The priestess wiped the sweat off her forehead and stood up, “Astrid Di Forte. I’m done, but you’ll have to rest for a few days to make sure it heals correctly. Don’t worry too much about your loss of consciousness, it was only the blood loss and the Mana overload,” She paused and hardened her expression, “Remember, you need a lot of rest. So rest.”

Glenn pushed himself up with a groan, “...I’ll do just that, then.”

Astrid nodded and left to treat another wounded. Glenn slowly shook off the confusion as he looked at his surroundings. At some point, the Auberge had completely collapsed, leaving him in the middle of the debris. He stumbled for a few steps, before slumping into one of the rare chairs that had survived the battle with the Corrupted monster. He glanced down at himself, grimacing at his ripped-open shirt and the nasty fresh wounds. He took a few minutes to meticulously pick and toss away the bits of flesh that had been splattered onto him.

The remnants of that gruesome fight still lingered in his mind. Mana overload—a consequence of using more Mana that the body can handle. The consequences of using it could be extremely dire, or it could be used as a last choice. Sahro was sitting nearby, nursing his left arm that had been injured in the battle. The arm was hanging at an awkward angle, awaiting its turn for the priestess's attention.

The silver paladin who protected the priestess during the fight walked past Glenn and collapsed on his knees in front of his less fortunate comrade. The crumpled ball of flesh had been carefully unraveled, leaving a somewhat human corpse.

“...My condolences,” Glenn said solemnly as he took a few hesitant steps. The paladin turned to him with a weary expression and nodded slowly.

“...Thank you. His soul will be resting in Her embrace…” He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He shook his head and stood back up, turning to Glenn.

“I’m Alabaster Di Fors. This…” His voice trembled slightly as he looked at the corpse beside him, “This was Kerion Di Fors. My brother.”

Glenn chewed on the inside of his cheeks, unsure of how to respond. Alabaster wiped a tear off with his steel-clad fist and extended a hand for Glenn to shake.

“Thank you for your help. It was impressive magic, sir…?” Glenn shook the extended hand, “Glenn. Just call me Glenn, without the sir.”

Alabaster nodded and patted him on the shoulder, before glancing back to the corpse of his brother, “...Could I ask you to give me some time alone, Glenn?”

The latter nodded and stepped back, “Of course.” The paladin smiled sadly and turned back, looking down at the body silently.

The battle had taken its toll, resulting in several casualties, most notably when the Boss and his staff had grotesquely fused to create a monstrous abomination.

“So that was a Corrupted, huh…?” Glenn muttered as he walked around the battlefield.

‘Creatures who lost their ways and devolved into twisted, malevolent entities. Corrupted by the Mana, or some other force. That’s what they are,’ Diamanes explained ominously. Glenn’s gaze wandered through the grim aftermath. Limbs that had yet to be collected lay strewn across the blood-soaked floor, surrounded by crimson pools. Blood trails marked where bodies had been dragged outside during the chaos. Glenn lent a hand with the grim task; it was the right thing to do.

The grim atmosphere made it so that few people were daring to talk, and so the operation of things was mainly done in silence, with awkward glances and silent thanks. The robed figure that had helped 'bend' down the monster was also there, still hidden behind their hood, before they swiftly left the scene. Glenn examined his trembling hands, still shaken by the ordeal. While he understood that what they had fought was a monster, the screams and pleas for help from the former employees of the Auberge continued to echo in his mind, refusing to be silenced.

Now that the adrenaline had settled down and the threat disappeared, he couldn’t help but hear these screams again, and again. The abomination's body had been completely consumed by the holy flame, leaving behind a small, awe-inducing purple ring. Glenn watched from afar as the priestess carefully picked it up with a tissue and threw it in the jar that they previously used to destroy the bundle of Moon Grass. Sahro came sitting beside him on a bloody stool that survived the battle.

He had just finished receiving the healing from the priestess, who by the way was almost done taking care of any of the injured. Astrid was looking down the stump of a man who had his leg ripped off with a sad look, as not even her divine powers could help the loss of a limb.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"You alright?" The Black Heir asked as he cleaned his sword methodically.

Glenn shrugged, gesturing towards the gruesome scene of the once-thriving Auberge. "Better than them, I suppose."

Sahro let out a cynical scoff, his face etched with darkness. Glenn clenched his hands tightly, trying to hide the visible tremors. Had it not been for the priestess's timely intervention with her mysterious holy abilities, he would have been crushed to death by the abomination. Even his most powerful spell, Implosion, hadn’t been enough to deal with the monster, even though it used all of his Mana.

Glenn mentally replayed the battle, pondering his inexplicable reaction during the fight. It had been different from his previous encounters, particularly when he had faced the Scarecrows upon arriving in the Fringe. Then, he had managed to maintain his composure, but this time, panic had overwhelmed him. Was it because of the wounds he suffered from, or because of all the dying men around him?

'It's because they were once human,' Diamanes explained solemnly, his tone weighted with gravity. 'They were a mass of humans mutated by unknown forces. These were technically the first humans you've killed.' The entity thought back to a certain Mr. Scarred-Face who was also probably dead but didn’t say a word about it.

Diamanes sighed, 'Fighting humans is vastly different from fighting monsters. When you fight monsters, you can compartmentalize them as threats to be eliminated without moral qualms. But in this case, you struggled to categorize them as mere monsters, likely because you had interacted with them just moments before they transformed into... whatever that shit was.'

Glenn rubbed his face and rose from his seat, before approaching Astrid, seeking answers.

“What now?” He asked dryly. The priestess sighed, her fair hands stained with blood. Despite the gore, she possessed a delicate beauty, with her pale gold hair returning to its natural blond hue, and her only divine attribute evident in her black eyes, which held a peculiar pale golden tint.

"Well, the Church is going to send a specialized team to take care of this mess. All of that is way above my pay grade..." She grunted. Glenn threw a dubious look at her, wondering what the salary for a priest might be.

"We'll also investigate the source of this catastrophe," Astrid continued, pointing towards the enigmatic jar. "Sigh, I can't fathom why these masochistic cultists would go to such lengths if they indeed are the ones at the origin of this incident."

Glenn nodded at the description of the Thorns Church cultist while thinking about their reason for doing this. If he thought back to what they gained, besides money and followers, there weren't a lot of options. Most of the time, people came for three things in an inn: drinks, rooms, and... "Information."

The priestess looked back at him, a questioning gaze in her eyes, "Excuse me?"

Glenn proceeded to share his line of thought.

"They wanted information. The Auberge seemed like the most important inn of this part of the Fringe. Rumors are bound to circulate through places like this one. My question is why would they want pieces of information on the Fourth Circle when they have no foothold in it..." He paused with a frown, “...And why the hell would they set up their spies for failure like this.”

The priestess paled, excusing herself toward Glenn, and joining with a hurry her paladin companion. They swiftly left together, the body of their dead friend on the shoulder of Alabaster di Fors.

Glenn looked at them leaving, wondering. He could feel that things were in motion, but he couldn't place a finger on what was moving exactly. Sahro joined him, grabbing his left shoulder tightly, before sighing loudly.

"We have to find another inn now, right Glenn?"

The latter's gaze shook, "No, we can't go in an inn. I don't have any money left."

Sahro looked at him weirdly.

"What do you mean you don't have any money? Didn't you have gold co–"

"It's gone," Glenn interrupted abruptly, his face filled with anguish.

"We're broke, Sahro."

The Black Heir looked at him confusedly, until their new poor reality settled in, “...You mean, we can’t eat like we want and sleep in a bed again?” He uttered in complete disbelief. Glenn nodded slowly, driving the wedge even deeper. Crestfallen, he returned to his seat, Glenn following suit as they watched the remains of the Auberge crumble from the outside. The few walls that had survived collapsed in clouds of dust, as if to signal the end of this affair.

"Well, that is quite the sight."

Glenn nodded until he remarked that it wasn't Sahro's voice that just said that. He swiftly turned his head, discovering the head of someone right in between his colleague and him. Surprised, he stood back up, turning toward the uninvited guest. He discovered an impeccably dressed gentleman, wearing a black tuxedo that fitted him like a second skin. A neatly knotted black bowtie adorned his collar. Atop his head rested a black top hat, making him seem like a character plucked from the pages of a classic book. Perhaps his most distinctive feature was his meticulously groomed mustache. It was a work of art, carefully trimmed and waxed to perfection.

The gentleman stepped back courteously, tipping his top hat to the two companions. A polite smile graced his face, framed by confident brown eyes. "My apologies for the intrusion. You may call me Sir Reginald, or simply Sir. I am a Senior Cleaner at the Cleaner's Workshop, and I will be overseeing your affairs for the next three months," he introduced himself politely.

Glenn and Sahro exchanged confused glances. Weren't they applying for the role of Fixers, the position that promised them freedom and independence, and all that?

"I understand this may be perplexing," Sir Reginald continued as if reading their thoughts.

"But rest assured, you retain your freedom. I am here as your contact with the Workshop, serving as your mentor. The guild has assigned me to you because of your exceptional performance during the evaluation…” He paused and glanced at the remains of the Auberge, “...Which I believe might have still been a little under-evaluating.”

Glenn raised an eyebrow. "So, does this mean we passed?"

Sir Reginald hesitated for a moment, seemingly puzzled.

"Well, yes. Did the messenger not inform you of this last evening?"

Glenn massaged his forehead while Sahro struggled to recall any such meeting. Unfortunately, the drug they had been administered had erased any memory of the previous evening.

Sir Reginald clasped his hands, making Glenn notice that they were covered by white, silky-looking gloves.

"In any case, welcome to the Cleaner's Workshop. You are now officially Silver Fixers. Congratulations!"