Edward watched Sulika leave while keeping the grin firmly in place, but the moment she was gone and the door shut behind her, his face dropped. The exhaustion he felt was clear in the lines of his face, and the way his eyes seemed robbed of emotion.

He hadn’t slept in… He honestly couldn’t remember. Two days- three? He absently reached towards his throat and loosened his shirt once again. A nasty discoloration could be seen through the gaps in the collar of his shirt; the painful bruise was a constant reminder of last night’s events…

“Sir?” a door guard asked, grabbing Edward’s attention.

Edward quickly covered his bruise by dropping his head and staring at a piece of paper. “What is it?” Edward asked. He lacked the energy to maintain his arrogant personality, so he didn’t bother trying to fake it. He just wanted to get through this day and go to sleep. Didn’t he deserve that after everything he’d been through the last few days?

“Sorry to bother you. Just wanted to report that the Giant has finally left the premises. Should we send someone to follow him?” The guard asked.

Edward recalled the horrified face of his master- sorry, his former master; Lord Bozzen; Viscount of the Misty Castle. Lord Bozzen had actually begged to be sent back. Can you believe that? A Devil had begged a lesser life form for aid. Edward didn’t understand why his master would stoop to such a level before, but now… Well, he’d seen the fate that befell the master.

“Yes, but don’t send anyone from the guild. Get someone from the outside to do it. Sulika is probably staying nearby, and if she spots anyone from the guild following the Giant, she’ll surely warn him. I’d prefer not to lose any of our own people on this. Understand?”

“Sir.” The guard nodded and shut the door. Once he was gone, Edward stood from his chair and walked to the window- a coughing fit hit him as he approached the window. His chest burned like someone lit a match inside his lungs. Once his coughing fit subsided, he looked up and frowned at the spattering of red on the window in front of him. He would need to get a janitor in here before the next meeting…

He spent a few minutes watching the crowd below while fear clawed at his guts. He wished the other shoe would drop already. He’d fucked up- He knew it, his master knew it, and those dung licking vultures eyeing his position also knew it.

The fact that his body was failing him was proof enough of his lord’s displeasure. The main reason Edward hadn’t fallen asleep as soon as he’d got home last night was because he’d been anxiously waiting for Lord Bozzen to contact him.

Yes, he’d seen the giant decapitate his master. But that meant nothing. Devils were immortal in the truest sense of the word; decapitate them, burn them, poison them, even dissolving them in acid did nothing to a true Devil. If their body were destroyed, their souls would simply return to the Demon realm and reform in a few hours.

He could still vividly recall Lord Bozzen showing such power when Edward and his old Dungeon Closing team first swore their allegiance to Lord Bozzen fourteen years ago. While they each had their own reasons, the promise of immortality was the driving reason behind Edward selling his soul to the Viscount. Sure, his current self looked nothing like he did in the past, but Edward was a staunch supporter of the guild in his youth… And then he was diagnosed with stage three lung cancer.

Ten years he’d been closing dungeons for the guild. And all it took was one word from the healer’s association for the guild to abandon him. They determined he was too much of a safety risk to keep on the closing team after his diagnosis, since they never knew when he would succumb to the disease eating him alive and bound him to a desk for the rest of his career.

He used what he knew of the dungeons- as well as a few… Less than honorable contacts he’d made during his dungeon delving days to climb his way to the rank of Vice-Master of the hunter’s guild and the rest, as they say, is history.

“A year of carefully laid plans, gone. Ruined because that bitch Sulika couldn’t leave well enough alone.” Edward sighed. “I should’ve killed her when I had the chance and just told the Guild Master she died while exploring a dungeon.” He left the office and headed for the front entrance of the guild, determined to put this day behind him and get on with his life. He left word with the front desk to have someone clean the windows in the office before heading home for the day.

Edward lived in an upscale townhome a few blocks from the guild. It was a modest two-story building with a large front yard and a basement that he’d thankfully managed to keep off of all ‘official’ blueprints.

He’d paid through the nose in gold and silver coins to ensure it had all the amenities and security someone of his standing deserved. The front yard was expertly curated to be as aesthetically pleasing as possible; fruit trees, stone benches, a small fountain, and over a dozen species of flower came together to relax- and distract- anyone who set foot past Edward’s privacy fence.

Once the construction was done, he’d erected his own warding system around his yard to ensure no one entered without his knowledge. He tied the wards to a stone he kept on his keyring so he could monitor his property.

He kept his head down the entire walk home, only looking up when someone greeted him by name. He’d made a number of friends over the years. All were human, of course. He hoped he could convince them to join him in worshiping the Devils. It was the only way they would survive what was to come, and if they refused, then he would mourn their demise… Probably.

He soon reached the fence surrounding his property. Looking around, he noted the houses across the street and on either side of his property were dark. An oddity for this time of day, but not unheard of.

He pulled his keys out of his pocket in a fluid motion and brought the key to the lock on his iron gate. He checked the wards while pretending to unlock it- “The wards are detecting someone inside the house… How surprising, I thought he’d be dead already.” Edward finally twisted the key, which momentarily disabled the alarm ward built into the foundation of the house and stepped through the gate. Once inside the property line, he re-engaged the lock on the gate, which had the secondary effect of resetting the wards so he would continue to be alerted of trespassers throughout the night.

He weaved his way around his garden and climbed the three steps leading to his front door. He stepped inside and immediately took off his jacket and shoes, dropping both on a small wooden bench beside the door.

He walked into the kitchen, made himself three beef tongue sandwiches, and grabbed a bottle of wine before heading down a spiral staircase to the basement.

The first thing he saw upon reaching the bottom of the stairs was a wide-open room with a small forge on one side, a few electrical saws and a carpentry desk on the other, and a small bed at the back of the room for when he couldn’t be bothered to make it back to his bedroom on the second floor.

Edward ignored all of this and headed for an iron door set into the wall behind the staircase. The door was hard to see under normal circumstances. The shadows cast by the staircase did a wonderful job of making the black iron door fade from sight.

As Edward approached the door, a soft whimpering reached his ears. A smile came unbidden to his face, and he pushed open the door with a hard shove that caused the door to slam into the wall with a deafening *bang!*

Edward stalked into the room with his dinner in hand and greeted the man kneeling in the center of the room; Heavy wooden braces kept his hands from leaving the floor and a bronze collar fastened to his neck kept him from lifting his head more than a few inches off the ground.

The man was bloodied and had been beaten within an inch of his life, but Edward ignored him and headed for the small, single person table to one side of the room. Edward placed his plate of sandwiches and bottle of wine on the table before looking at the man whose face was covered in a disgusting mixture of blood, snot, and tears.

The man- Douglas Shetland; was an ambitious, if simple-minded, hunter. He was also Edward’s eighth disciple… But that’s not why he’s here.

Edward turned his head to the back of the room and spent a few seconds watching the projection playing against the wall, which was the only thing Douglas had done since Edward left him there.

There was a magical orb hanging from the ceiling of the room that acted as a projector. After… ‘asking’ Douglas to explain himself after showing up on his front door last night, Edward extracted his memories of the events leading up to Sulika’s warehouse assault, to the moment he stumbled through his door in a disheveled mess.

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

Needless to say, Edward wasn’t happy with what he saw, and he focused his displeasure on poor Douglas. Edward couldn’t lay all the blame at Douglas’ feet. Most of it fell on Sulika’s shoulders, for obvious reasons, and the shoulders of the other cultists for not heeding Douglas’ warning.

But the other cultists were either dead or gone, and Sulika was similarly out of reach at the moment. Meanwhile… Edward kicked Douglas in the side with bone crushing force and laughed at the cry of pain that spilled from his lips.

“I met the giant today.” Edward said, while picking up a sandwich. “Sulika brought him to the guild. Can you believe it?” He asked and got only a few pained whimpers in return. “Your memories didn’t do him justice. He is big,” Edward laughed. “But I’ve dealt with bigger men before. It’s just a matter of finding out his strengths, his weaknesses. Once I have those, the big man will be nothing more than a puppet dancing in the palm of my hand…” He sighed and looked at Douglas. “What do you thi-*Cough!*” The coughing fit came on stronger than any before it. Edward’s sandwich hit the floor a second before the blood droplets falling from his mouth.

Edward gasped for breath in between coughs. He felt like someone was sitting on his chest and sucking the very life from him- Edward dropped to his knees in a pool of Douglas’ blood and tried his best to get his breathing back under control. Seconds turned to minutes as Edward kneeled in the blood with his eyes closed. The only thing denoting the passage of time were the near-silent whimpers escaping from Douglas’ mouth… *Ding-Dong~* Edward’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his doorbell.

He wondered which idiot would visit him today of all days. The alarm ward hadn’t gone off, so it had to have been someone with a key to the gate. But he wasn’t supposed to meet with any of those assholes for another week… “Then again, they might be here to discuss the utter disaster of last night.” Knowing the possibility of such a thing was quite high, Edward sighed and dragged his exhausted body up the stairs to the front door.

He fixed his clothes as best he could, but he was still wheezing, and no doubt had blood on him. But honestly, who cares at this point? There were only a few people who could be on the other side of that door, and none of them gave a damn if he was covered in blood- his own or otherwise.

With that in mind, Edward twisted the handle and pulled open the door- and his brain went totally blank at the absolute impossibility standing before him.

Aldritch stared down at Edward, a knowing smile playing across his lips. The iron gate Edward placed so much faith in was lying in a crumpled heap against Edward’s apple tree, which explained how Aldritch got in without setting off the alarm. The alarm ward was tied to the metal of the gate… Which Aldritch had broken like a child’s toy.

With his wards shattered, and his stomach dropping like a stone in a lake, Edward looked into Aldritch’s eyes and uttered only a single word. “Why?” He didn’t get the chance to make another sound as Aldritch’s left hand covered his mouth and lifted him off the ground in a single, fluid motion.

Aldritch carried a struggling Edward into the house and quietly shut the door behind him. Once inside, Aldritch placed Edward back on his feet and forced him to look into Aldritch’s eyes. “Where’s the other person?” Aldritch asked.

Edward’s eyes widened in surprise. How could the giant know about Douglas? Did he follow that idiot here? Had he been stalking around, waiting for his opportunity to act since last night?

None of these thoughts were even close to being true. Aldritch had simply used Dragon’s Eye to follow Edward from the guild. By Iolara’s standards, Dragon’s Eye was a seventh level spell and easily pierced the third level wards Edward built around his house. The trouble with Dragon’s Eye was it could not discern which level of a building someone was on, since it looked down on the world from high above.

Edward thought about refusing to answer, but he could guess what the giant would do if he thought he was lying. Edward pointed a shaky finger at the door leading to the basement- Aldritch didn’t hesitate. He lifted Edward by the face and carried him down to the basement, where he quickly spotted the door Edward had thought he’d so carefully hidden.

Aldritch opened the door with a light shove, spotted the man kneeling on the floor, and shoved Edward inside. Edward collapsed onto his backside in a pool of Douglas’ blood while Aldritch took two steps and arrived at Douglas’ side.

Edward watched Aldritch do a cursory inspection of his disciple and ran through a view scenario in his head- “You’ll die the moment you get up.” Aldritch said without looking away from Douglas. “Take my advice and wait patiently for your death. You’ll feel less pain that way.”

“My life is pain.” Edward laughed. “What more do you think you can possibly do to me, huh? Look at me; I’ve got one foot in the grave already, and my master has apparently abandoned me after my dumbass disciple over there allowed you to hurt him. So, really, what the fuck are you gonna do?” He said before devolving into a laughing fit that showed just how mad the pain and lack of sleep had driven him.

Aldritch stood from Douglas’ body and walked over to Edward. “You did too much damage when you were interrogating him. He’s dead.” Aldritch said, his face and voice entirely devoid of emotion.

“Good. May the master have mercy on his soul.” Edward said, his laughing fit subsiding beneath Aldritch’s stare.

Aldritch crouched down and looked Edward in the eye. “You keep mentioning a ‘master’. Who are you speaking of?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Edward grinned, oblivious to his blood-stained teeth, and the maddened gleam in his eye.

“You’re useless like this…” Aldritch shook his head. “Shield of the Heretic.” Aldritch muttered and watched as a semi-transparent liquid poured forth from between the gaps in the stone floor and swallowed Edward’s body.

The sight and feel of the liquid caused Edward to panic… At first. But he quickly calmed down as he recognized the spell Aldritch had cast, even if the name was slightly different, its appearance was unmistakable. Shield of the Faithful was a third level cleric’s spell that isolated the target from the world, protecting them from harm while slowly healing their wounds.

“You’re pathetic.” Edward laughed. “A Cleric? I was scared of a fucking Cleric? Oh, how far I’ve fallen. Get this shit off of me before I rip your head off.” Edward said, his embarrassment and anger causing his voice to pitch lower than normal.

“What is your master’s name?” Aldritch asked, ignoring the threat.

“Fuck off-AHHH!” Edward screamed as the bones in his left leg shattered. He looked down at the mangled mess of his leg and screamed again. The magic shield covering him had collapsed around his leg, flattening it until the bones were reduced to dust and his flesh popped like a balloon. But that wasn’t all it did. No, because the instant his leg popped, the shield amputated the leg and then healed the open wound to keep Edward from just bleeding out on the spot. “What the fuck did you do to me!?” Edward wailed.

“What is your master’s name?” Aldritch asked again. Neither his expression, nor his voice had changed since the first time he asked… It was at that moment Edward realized the man- no, the monster in front of him felt nothing over what he’d just done. And if Edward didn’t answer the question to the giant’s satisfaction, he would feel nothing over what he’d do next.

“Bozzen! My master’s name is Bozzen! Please don’t hurt me again!” Edward cried and tried to crawl away, but the shield kept him rooted in place before Aldritch’s watchful eye.

“Do we know of this, Bozzen?” Aldritch asked Oakairo.

“I believe it’s the name of the Devil you killed when you first met Sulika... Oh, He doesn’t realize his master is truly dead- Which is sad, really. He thinks he was abandoned. Aldritch, you should tell him the truth before you send him off. It’s not good for a soul to carry that kind of baggage into the underworld.”

Aldritch reached out a hand and gently placed it on Edward’s head. “Your master didn’t abandon you.” He muttered in a voice meant to soothe small animals and children.

Edward said nothing- not out of acceptance or curiosity, but because his body was in shock because of the loss of blood, otherwise he would’ve cried, “What do you know?”

“I’m sure if I hadn’t destroyed that Devil’s soul, he would’ve contacted you after returning to the Demon world, so… Trust me, and go into the next life with a clear conscience. You weren’t abandoned, Edward Diniel. Your master is just dead.” Aldritch said and offered Edward a gentle smile.

“What the fuck are you talking abo-” Edward’s voice was silenced as the Shield of the Heretic collapsed across his entire body. The Vice-Master of the Hunters guild vanished before Aldritch’s serpentine eyes, leaving only a pool of blood and a few strands of hair behind.

“Thoughts?” Aldritch asked Oakairo after exiting the room and moving towards the stairs.

“Someone will eventually come by to check on the Vice-Master. Leave a scrying ward on the room so we can monitor who comes by. Who knows, maybe it'll lead us to the other cultists, and he'll prove more useful in death than he was in life.”

Aldritch grunted his agreement cast a basic, fifth level scrying ward around the room. The moment someone came to investigate the room, he would know.

“Hey, do you think the elven mortal will give us more chocolate milk if you ask?”

“Probably. And even if she doesn’t, I can just do some more work in her shop and go buy us a few gallons.”

“Good. You should do that.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Aldritch replied and headed towards The Fancy Dryad.