"The Iron King is dead! Long live the Iron King!" Word spread fast through the Iron Kingdom soldiers and the sudden news sapped their final strength and morale. They turned around to look towards the cathedral numbly as Protectorate soldiers rushed forward, demanding the beaten soldiers to lay down their arms.
At the ruins of the cathedral doors, the wrecked Inquisition War Jack gave a final feeble jerk before steam burst out from its boiler. The chest hatch of the War Jack swung open and a shaking female dropped out onto the cracked floor, coughing madly as she stumbled to her feet. Seeing the armoured body of the Iron King laying on the ground and surrounded by his people, Nerssia let out a victorious laugh as she stumbled forward.
"Heretics! Hear me!" She roared out at the grieving soldiers. "Your false king has fallen! Renounce your heretical ways! Return to the Law and Order of Ramuh!"
"Kill her!" An Iron Kingdom general ordered as he carried the body of the Iron King. "Do not let these fanatics defile the body of the Iron King!"
The chain of emotions of the Iron Kingdom soldiers was visible on their faces as anguish and fear turned to anger and determination. The once disciplined soldiers turned into a mob as they rushed straight at the Chief Inquisitor who felt fear for the first time underneath her featureless mask. She gave a baleful glare at her surroundings before she leapt down from the carcass of the downed War Jack and disappeared quickly from view.
-----
IK Iron Teeth
For some reason, Prince Herod had an uneasiness to his chest as he could not keep himself still in his chair. The Iron Lords and officers assigned by his royal father to help him manage the kingdom was briefing him with many of the important workings of the Kingdom's governance yet, Prince Herod could not concentrate at all in the meeting.
As he half heartedly listen to a fat Iron Lord's briefing about taxes and duties, he noticed the necklace which held a keepsake pendant suddenly slipped off his neck and landed on the soft carpet with a soft thud. Seeing the frown on the Crown Prince's face, the fat Iron Lord paused halfway in his sentence as he nervously wondered which words had offended the future Iron King.
Prince Herod did not even notice the awkward silence that befallen the cabin. Instead, he bend down from his seat and picked up the pendant and stared at the silver chain that suddenly broke by itself. The sense of unease in his heart deepened and he flipped open the pendant. The inside of the pendant housed a tiny family painting of his royal father and mother when she was still alive.
He closed the pendant carefully and felt a deep sorrow settled over his shoulders. Without another word, he gestured the waiting fat Iron Lord to continue and slipped the pendant into his chest pocket. Inside the pendant, the crack of the crystal cover of the family painting widened more.
-----
The Protectorate, Site Gamma
"Damn... the Big Boss would be heartbroken if he saw the Princess now!" Hitsu sighed as he packed away the laptop. "And his kid..."
It had taken them roughly thirty hours to positively ID the Princess by using facial recognition software. At first both Claymore One and Two teams were sceptical about results given by the non living device as the person in question looked totally different from what they know.
Dressed and covered with rags to protect themselves against the sun during the day, they were only able to catch a glimpse of her face during the evening when the dwellers of the work camp gathered to collect their evening rations.
Her long gorgeous glowing golden pink hair that was the envy of many women now looked like dirty straw and was cropped short and tucked under a sweat stained bandana. Her skin was no longer smooth and unblemished, was now sun beaten and rough, traced with lines of pain and worry. Her heart shaped face was now sunken in and her once full figure was now just skin and bones due to the limited rations and hard work.
"Boss, can't we just go in and sneak her and the kid out?" Hitsu asked. "We can do a quick grab and run and no one would know she is gone until morning!"
"Our orders are to observe," Tyrier replied coldly. "The Old Ugly is still at least forty eight hours out! We will hold and observe for now... Unless something threatens her and the child's safety!"
"Erm, like now?" Wolf hissed as he was prone down in a concealed shell scrape. He adjusted his binos against the setting sun before commenting, "She seemed to have encountered some trouble!"
-----
The Protectorate, Work Camp Redemption
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Having been posted here after offending one of the Overseers in her previous work camp, Sherene's health had deteriorated due to the harsher conditions here. She developed a persistent hacking cough, which the medical nanites originating from the UNM and injected by Dr. Sharon as a precaution and health measure, worked overtime to restore her health. But due to the lack of nutrients and proteins, the medical nanites could only do so much.
She tiredly joined the growing queue at the camp square where cauldrons filled with steaming soup and grains were served. By the time her turn came, the sun was already setting and it was getting dark. The Overseers here were too unbothered to waste good fuel or wood to light the square for the repenters here and the only source of light came from the dying coals of the cookfire.
Taking both her and her child's share of the evening rations which was just thin soup with a small handful of overboiled grains, she hurried back to her small hovel where she shared it with her son which was actually just a tiny squarish hut. But as she hurried down the row of ramshackle huts, she broke into a coughing fit and accidentally knocked into someone.
The chipped bowls holding the thin soup splashed over the person and when Sherene recovered, she froze in fear as the person she had accidentally knocked and spilt soup over was a person wearing the crimson stole of the Church! And he was not just a normal Priest, but a Bishop of the Church of Ramuh from the gold trimmings on his crimson robes!
Quickly, she dropped to her knees and touched her head to the dirt floor and begged for forgiveness. "Y- Your Holiness! T- This repenter is truly sorry for her sins of soiling your Holiness!"
A kick from a Priest sent her flying back and she bit down the urge to moan in pain as she scrambled to kneel as fast as her weak body could and bowed with her head touching the ground again.
"Stop!" The Bishop raised a hand up and the priest next to him paused in his action to kick her again. "My child, you are here to repent for your sins..."
"Y- Yes! Your holiness!" Sherene quickly replied, her head still down. "This sinner is deeply sorry for her actions!"
"Raise, my child," The Bishop smiled as the priests around him wiped his robes as clean as they could. "You have not sinned against me!"
"T- Thank you, your holiness!" Sherene let out a soft sigh of relief.
"But... you have sinned against Ramuh!" The Bishop's smile widened as he stretched his hands out. "You shall be Judged and your... Sins cleansed!"
Sherene's eyes widened in fear and panic as she stared at the smiling face of the Bishop. "M- Mercy your holiness!"
"Don't worry child!" The Bishop had his robes removed by the priests to be cleaned. Dressed in a simple white tunic underneath he held his hand out and a priest placed a barbed whip on his hand. "A few dozen lashes shall cleanse your soul of sins!"
-----
"Boss?" Wolf called out as he watched the scene from less than half a kilometre away. "What do we do?"
"Loke, you got a clear shot?" Tyrier asked softly as he too watched the events unfolding with his binoculars.
"Clear as water..." Loke replied with his comms as he was laid out in another concealed shell scrape, a suppressor M4 Magebreaker .50 calibre right snuggled tightly against his shoulders and his arms wrapped around it. "On your order."
"Claymore Two!" Tyrier radioed the other team. "Angel in danger! Starting intervention!"
"Claymore Two rogers!"
"Loke! Take the shot!"
-----
The smiling Bishop raised the cruel whip high up and Sherene closed her eyes and reflexly curled and hugged herself and gritted her teeth for the anticipated pain. But all she heard was a wet slap and some cold liquid landing on her back. She waited for a moment and yet there was nothing and she tensely cracked open her eyes to look.
The first thing she saw was the body of the Bishop laying before her. She stared confusingly at the Bishop, trying to understand what she was looking at, for the top part of the head of the Bishop was missing, leaving only the lower jaw with a swollen looking tongue dangling out. Blood had formed a puddle and seemed to be merging into the lengthening shadows cast by the setting sun.
Finally, she took her eyes away from the morbid scene and stared at the three priests who were frozen and horrified. A head suddenly vanished from one of the frozen priests and Sherene blinked in a daze as the headless body squirted blood from the remains of its head as it was sent flying from its position.
"AHHHHHHH!" One of the remaining priests screamed in terror and he turned to run, but something seemed to snatch him, throwing him across the street. What looked like an arm went flying off somewhere and the broken body tumbled down the street.
His scream was like a cure and both the last priest and Sherene jolted to their senses and for a moment, their eyes met each other. The eyes of the priest were filled with terror while the eyes of Sherene were calm and knowing. The last priest tripped on his feet as he scrambled to get away from Sherene, his eyes wide with terror. "W- WITC-!!!"
The last priest was spun away by the force of the large calibre round, his body rolling a couple of times before stopping, leaving behind a trail of glittering darkness. The scream of the priest earlier and roused some of the Overseers and repenters as they poked their heads out to see what was happening, but with the darkness creeping up, all they saw was a woman kneeling on the floor with four bodies laid out in various poses.
Uncoiling their whips from their belts, a couple of Overseers bearing a lit oil lamp came storming over. They stopped next to Sherene and growled, "What is going on he- AHH??"
Under the dim glow of the lamp, the light was enough for them to notice the priests' robes, blood and their headless bodies. Both burly elves swallowed nervously as they turned to stare at the kneeling woman who had remained unmoving all the time. "Y- You! W- Who killed them?"
Sherene felt a sense of relief wash over her as a heavy burden seemed to vanish. Despite being appalled and nauseous by the sudden violent deaths before her, she had long had her mind and soul steeled by the tortures and countless deaths in the past year. Tears slowly trickled down from her face as hope was reignited in her heart.
"He's finally found me! Finally, he's here!" She whispered to herself as she wiped the tears of relief and joy away. She turned and faced the two Overseers who stood there looking at her nervously and smiled as she answered them back, "Who killed them?"
"You did... You the Protectorate... Has killed them all... For he is finally here!"