Glenn blinked twice, before rubbing his eyes. No matter how hard he rubbed, there was still this grinning idiot in front of his door. The young man closed the door, and opened it again, seeing that Sahro was still there. Only, he wasn't the same Sahro he remembered. Instead of his desert clothes, he wore a padded leather jacket above a white shirt. Under it, the gleam of the mail chain could be seen.
He still had his curved sword, but he looked more..." outgoing", somehow? He didn't have the same suspicious eyes looking at everything like a potential threat. His attitude was also much more relaxed, similar to how he was in the Black Heir's camp an eternity ago. Glenn thought back to the two sandwiches waiting for him and sighed knowing he had to sacrifice one for sure.
"Well, happy to see me?" Sahro opened his arms, Glenn answering him with a frown.
"Bastard, who the hell visits during the night?" The young man sized up and down the Black Heir, before pinching the end of his nose, "Also, you smell like the gutters. Can't you shower before showing up, at least?"
Sahro's eyelids twitched, and the man invited himself into Glenn's apartment. He whistled when he checked out the room, visiting without much care.
"Well, well, well, it's true that you're already Gold-rank! The Northern Town treats you pretty well," Before Glenn could answer, the Black Heir grabbed one of the two sandwiches and stuffed his mouth with it. He aimed a thumbs-up at the young man hosting him.
"Even though they don't treat you as well as the Eastern Town does. Great sandwich, by the way. Can I eat the other?" Without waiting, Sahro served himself, swallowing the second sandwich whole. Glenn held out a hand in despair, a single tear falling on his cheek as he saw the Black Heir swallow his precious food.
'That's it. I'm killing him.' The young man decisively thought, summoning his still bloody battle suit and casting a Blackhole in his right hand while fueling his left with Mana, summoning an otherworldly dark liquid that could freeze everything. Sahro froze, gulping down the last bite, before raising his hands in a fake apologetic smile.
"Uhh, sorry?" Glenn took a step forward, aiming his hands at the bastard who dared to eat his food. Said bastard quickly rose his hands in the air, seeing the Mana twirl violently in the room, "Oh, shit, you've ranked up! Uh, sorry again, I just didn't eat for three days. I'll pay next time, promise!" Glenn maintained his spell for another second, clearly hesitating to hurl the attack on the man, before dismissing them with a sad sigh.
"No excuses will bring back my sandwiches..." He muttered, before turning back toward his guest, "What news? If you came to visit me, that either means you need help or that there was a significant advancement in the P.P.E," Glenn crossed his arms together, sitting on his desk. Sahro took a chair and sat down, rubbing the back of his head. Project Pest Extermination, or P.P.E for short, was the code name for the war between the Black Heirs and the Thorn's Church.
"You're half-right and wrong. First, I have half the money," He raised his eyes inquisitively at Glenn, "And you?"
The young man froze and counted mentally. In his dimensional pouch, there should be around thirty gold coins, and there was still the reward for the Blessed Forest raid as well as the compensation for the Thorn's Church attack. The whole of the Cleaner's Workshop was supposed to be a safe place, and the fact that security had been assured way too late was the fault of the Workshop. Had Glenn not taken action, things could have taken a turn for the even worse. There already was a victim, that poor guy who woke up from his sleep being pierced in every part of his body by thorny vines. Counting all that, he indeed should be halfway through his objective.
"I should own that much too," Glenn answered, already imagining himself passing through the giant doors to enter the brass city he glanced into that day Howard came down onto the Northern Town. Since then, he never stayed for the Harvest, leaving the Northern Town to execute any cleaning mission outside the village. Anything to get far away from that man. He couldn't get back at him for now, anyway. He was still too weak, and there also was the risk of the kid that had been taken away to be used as a hostage and hurt in the process. And he couldn't have that. So, for now, he'll have to wait until he is strong enough to deal easily with the likes of Stormblade, the knight protecting the Baron alongside his brass-clad army.
Revenge is a dish best served cold. And he's sure to serve it up when the time is right. Sahro grinned, clapping his hands together.
"Good, we're halfway through. Don't know about you, but I'm a few missions away from ranking up to Dark-Gold. With that, I should earn more money faster," The Black Heir exclaimed, showing a little excitement at the idea.
Glenn nodded slowly. Indeed, the benefits of the Dark Gold rank were incomparable to those of the Gold rank. This was where things started to get serious, be it for the difficulty of the missions or the rewards. Their goal had always been to reach the Dark Gold rank as quickly as possible and earn all the money they needed to reach the Bourgeoisie.
"I'm glad we're progressing well. What about you, did you manage to rank up as well?" Glenn asked, but Sahro shook his head with disappointment. Well, one of them managed to enhance themselves well so that already was that. Sahro stood up and began pacing the room.
"About the P.P.E, I indeed have some news, but they're quite puzzling," He slowly began, raising Glenn's curiosity, "Apparently, the war is going well. Too well, actually. Their powerhouse recently disappeared, letting Redan and Giselle take a big advantage over them. But it's not like those cockroaches to give up so much ground," Sahro looked at the ceiling with unveiled worries.
"Talking about these bastards..." Glenn quickly explained the matter that just took place, the Black Heir's face darkening when listening to the tale.
"So they're back on your tracks...And me who thought they gave up when you had the rabies..." Glenn's lips twitched, and he slowly clenched his teeth.
"Are you comparing me to a dog...?"
Sahro clapped again, quickly changing the subject.
"Anyway, it's going well on their side, but don't get surprised if there's suddenly something wrong happening. The Black Heirs prepared on their sides, but it's never going to be enough to deal with these crazed dogs," The Black Heir sighed, before sitting back on his chair.
"That's all for me. I also wanted to check up on you and see if you were feeling better after your...episode," Sahro turned his head away, rubbing the back of it awkwardly.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"Huh, how sweet of you. I'm genuinely surprised," Glenn smirked before looking at the ceiling. The Black Heir stood up from the chair, dusting the crumbs off his hands. Sahro walked up to his friend, ignoring the look of annoyance on his face, and grabbed his shoulder warmly.
"I'll be around for a few days, so let's spar to see if you've progressed. I doubt it, but we never know, right?" Glenn took a deep breath before standing up in turn and opening his door for the guest to leave. Inside his left hand's palm flashed open a mocking smile.
"Not even saying hi, huh? The Black Heirs are a bunch of rude bastards, aren't they?" Diamanes quickly tried to provoke Sahro, seizing the chance to annoy the young man who copiously ignored him.
Sahro froze in his steps, turned his head at the purple hand, and with a forced smile, stepped out of the room. Glenn closed the door behind him and went back to his bed. He looked at the crumbs on the ground of the sandwiches he prepared previously. With a sad expression, he flicked his fingers, making the crumbs disappear, erased away by Mana. The young man was about to unsummon his sleeveless suit when he suddenly realized what he had just done.
"Wait, how did I...?" Glenn looked at his fingers with confusion. He had cast the spell so instinctively that he couldn't even understand how he had done it. There was nothing insane about that, the Cleaning spell had always been something very simple to learn, but he always had to use the School of Words before to use it. But right now, he had managed to use the spell without even thinking or understanding it.
"Did something change...?" The young man pondered aloud, clenching his hand.
"Hah! Of course, something changed! You recently broke through, remember?" Diamanes exclaimed, making Glenn feel even more confused.
"Wait, does breaking through also increase your capacity to understand and use spells with the Draconic School?" The young man asked, before attempting to summon a ball of light without using the Lux spell. He felt the Mana leave his fingertips, creating a softball glowing in a mystical light. He gasped, before trying an elemental spell.
"Nothing too complicated, just a flame would do..." Glenn muttered, concentrating the Mana on his fingertips again, easily summoning a small flame. With a thought, he made it grow, compressed it, increased the flame's temperature until it turned blue, and ended up making it disappear with a flick of his wrist. Holding his forehead, he felt the corner of his lips rise uncontrollably. He almost wanted to laugh, but he suddenly thought of another matter. He aimed at a chair and tried to replicate a particular spell he still had no idea how it worked.
He felt the Mana leave his hand, only to disappear in the nearby environment, serving no purpose.
"I guess I still need to have some understanding of it...But I'm progressing, that's for sure," Glenn concluded, clapping his hands together and switching off the mystical light. With a thought, he also discarded his bloody suit and jumped into bed. He ignored his stomach grumbling and closed his eyes. He had a lot of testing to do the next day, and most important of all, he still needed to get his rewards!
Dreaming of both gold coins and majestic spells, Glenn fell asleep, finally resting.
For real, this time.
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Somewhere else.
A huge man kneeling on the ground stood up silently, taking in the surroundings. He was in a dark, humid room built out of stone bricks. His back was covered in fresh whip wounds, and his face was smiling with ecstasy. Blood dripped on the floor, disappearing among the already-tainted bricks. The huge man placed the whip he was holding on a shelf hanging on the wall, before picking up a black robe and using it to cover himself. There also was a huge book sitting there, which he picked up and opened.
With a bloody finger, he wrote a few names on an empty page, and turned a new one, before writing yet again another name. But this time, he was very careful, making sure it looked nice and easily readable. "Adeus Mellorosa", was the name written there. With a satisfied smile, the man closed the book and placed it under his left arm.
He then came out of the room, ignoring the two worms standing guard there.
"Abbot Hank!", "Abbot Hank!" Both of them exclaimed with respect and adoration, but they received no answer from the Abbot. Hank headed for the prayer room, nodding at the persons worthy of his interest, and ignoring the others. He had to restrain himself, they were His precious pawns, and he couldn't simply do what he wanted with them.
"Soon...Soon..." He muttered, pushing the two great doors leading to their prayer hall. A grand room was revealed, with no windows or beautiful stained glass like in the usual churches. Instead, there were rows and rows of pews, almost filled with people, their faces covered in both hope and pain. They were all hurt, bleeding slightly on the cold ground under their feet. Abbot Hank walked up to the end of the prayer room, behind a bloody lectern. The devotees, who were all muttering or groaning in pain, all came silent in an unnatural manner. Seeing this spectacle, the Abbot smiled warmly and leaned on the lectern while grabbing both sides of it.
"Faithfuls of the Thorn's Church, hopeful and desperate, pained and ecstatic, you who all search for salute and redemption, I welcome you today!" His voice echoed in the prayer room, making every believer lower their heads respectfully.
"I, Abbot Hank," He continued, opening his arms as if to give out a hug, "Welcome you in the house of our Lord, welcome you in the warm embrace of pain, and welcome you to be the first to be forgiven."
The believers seemed very touched by this declaration, and they lowered their heads even further, some scratching fanatically at their wounds, widening them and increasing their suffering. Abbot Hank watched with satisfaction for a few seconds, before calming the crowd with his hands.
"The Lord thanks you all for your devotion. You all shall access His paradise in due time," He suddenly took on a grave expression and clenched his fists together.
"But an obstacle has risen in our way to redemption. A man rose against us, against the Lord himself!"
The crowd gasped, before exploding with anger and hate. The Abbot continued amid the chaos, his voice strong enough to cover it entirely.
"He corrupted the Black Heirs, making them fight against us and weaken our strength when we shall all be dedicated to welcome our Lord in our bodies!"
A man rose above the others in the crowd, raising a tight fist with anger, "He shall be put to death!"
The crowd followed him, raging and pleading for the death of this unknown man. Abbot Hank took a deep breath, before calming the crowd once again.
"That man is the perfect vessel for our Lord. We allowed him to welcome Him in his body, but he dared to refuse and run away!"
Confusion suddenly replaced the anger amidst the crowd.
"Why would he do that? Isn't that the greatest of graces?" A woman busted into tears, before kneeling and planting a knife into her hand," Please, dear Abbot, make me the host for our beloved Lord! We all wish for his return!" Abbot Hank warmly watched her, before shaking his head.
"The body of that man is perfect for our Lord," He coughed a little, before standing straight over the crowd, "My fellow believers, our faith is put to test here! Find that man, and bring him back so that he can receive the grace of our Lord, blessing our path to ascension!"
The pious Abbot kneeled on the ground and crushed one of his fingers under his heavy book. He muttered in a strange tongue, something that no human should be able to pronounce, and made the image of a young man appear in the mind of everyone in the room.
He had eyes of different colors, one dark green and the other purple, and his hair was black with strands of white. His face was charming, and he had elongated ears that gave him a sharp feeling. He was wearing a sleeveless suit, giving him a modern style, but most importantly, his name was echoing in their mind.
"Glenn."
The crowd yelled and cheered, most of them celebrating by hurting themselves. Blood splashed against blood, wounds against wounds, in this unholy meeting. A dark light somehow appeared in the prayer room, illuminating the dark space behind Abbot Hank, showing a figure pierced all over with thorny vines, bleeding all over with a pleased expression.
It was a statue, made entirely of a black stone. A dark liquid constantly flowed down on its sides, giving it a strange luster.
But most important of all, it was watching.
And it smiled.