"Oi, boy!" yelled an uncouth middle aged man in a cracked iron armor soaked in dried-up blood. He had a helmet to go along with his armor but after receiving a pounding from a bear-like Magic Beast, it no longer fit on his head.

Over the counter of the blacksmith shop, from the back of the store, a boy in his late teens came out, wearing clothes one would expect from a blacksmith. His face was smudge with black ink and sweat has drenched through his shirt, revealing his toned body underneath.

The man was new to this town. He expected the usual brawny old men like always but instead, he was received by a young boy.

No way this boy could be the master of this shop, he thought.

"Tell your master that I need these fixed by tomorrow morning." said the man as he laid a long sword and a shield on the counter. The gears state wasn't much different than the man's armor's.

A good evening or simple greeting would be nice, asshole

The boy thought in his mind. "Just these two?" The boy asked while eyeing at the adventurer's tattered armor. He would have given a smile too if the man had greeted but he didn't.

"Just these two." The adventurer affirmed with a snort.

The boy was unfazed by the adventurer's intimidation. "Your armor?"

"My armor is still fine." The man arrogantly told him.

"In need of a new helmet?"

"No."

The boy gave a quick once over on the sword and shield. "It would be better if you just buy a new sword or shield."

The middle-aged adventurer clicked his tongue. "Don't get bratty with me, boy. I said just fix these two will be fine."

The adventurer must be short on coin. Pity, thought the boy.

The boy collected the sword and shield into his hands and looked up to the man. "I already have two orders at the moment, Mr. Adventurer. It will be impossible to fix it by tomorrow."

"I don't care. Just treat it as a rush order." The adventurer continued shouting his words.

The boy sighed but he did so, subtly. ""Rush order costs extra and you will need to pay upfront of half the price."

"Say what now, you brat? You trying to swindle me?"

"That is the policy of this shop. If you don't like it, then farewell."

The man gritted his teeth. This was the only blacksmith shop in this small town and the next town is half a day walk. It was nighttime now. Only a fool would travel in the night.

"Fine." The man relented and threw a few silver coins onto the counter.

"Will you be needing a polish as well."

The man clicked his tongue again. "Just fix it. I can do the polishing myself."

The boy noticed the man's bandaged hand. Even the blood has soaked through and dyed it red. To this sight, the boy lift the corner of his lips. "I'm sure you can." He said, his slight grin turn into a goodwill smile.

The adventurer clicked his tongue for the third time in a row. "Just make sure to get it done by tomorrow."

"Of course."

The man said no other words and left the shop.

"Time to get to work, again." he told himself.

And just as he was about to enter the forge room, the door creaked open again. At the first sight, the person that came through the door did not gave out a feeling of being a customer.

And the boy knew all too well that the person indeed isn't a customer.

"Same old shabby shop. Not fond of upgrades?" the man said as he loosed his cloaked. There wasn't any distinctive features on his face. A quite common face that no one would bother remember and that was the point.

"Varus." The boy said and nodded slightly at him.

"Elder Darkly." The man named Varus greeted back.

"It is done." Darkly said and with a flick of his wrist, the space opened up beside him. From within the black space, he retrieved a sword of fine craftsmanship.

"It's done?" Varus asked in surprise.

"The materials are rare but the forging process wasn't that difficult. So yes, it's already done."

The plain man received the sword from the boy and stored it away in his own [Arms Inventory] without so much as a glance at the sword.

It was either Varus didn't care much about the sword or he trust Darkly completely but Darkly himself wasn't bothered by neither of these two notions. He did his job and he cut no corners, his conscious is clear, the end.

"The Grandmaster sent one of his personal lapdog to retrieve a single mid-tier Magic Weapon, I'm surprise. Or is there something else?"

"Yes. Dire news." Varus promptly answered.

"If it's about the heroes, I already know."

"Is that so?" Varus feigned a look of surprise which Darkly didn't fell for. "Well, it ain't all about the heroes."

Darkly raised an eyebrow. "Something more dire than the heroes?"

"It's the Shepherd. His time has come."

Darkly knew Varus could have worded it better but he also knew that it was intentional.

"I see. So the Harbinger has finally emerged. Here I was, wishing that my time would end before he emerges. Tough luck." The boy sighed. "And what does the Grandmaster wants us to do?"

"Nothing at the moment. Just be prepared for what's to come. That's the order from His Majesty."

The boy clicked his tongue. "What of the other Elders?"

"They are being informed, as we speak. They all have their own part to play."

"And what is mine?"

"The same as always. How goes the Holy Swords?"

"It's going well. It will be done in another two weeks."

"One week."

"One?" Darkly asked in disbelief. "That's impossible."

"The Shepherd has awaken. It was untimely, yes but it is what it is. If manpower is the problem, His Majesty will see to it. And of course, you will be compensated for the sudden rush. After all, rush order costs extra, no?"

After a minute of staring competition, the boy relented. "Fine. Twice the original amount and I don't need extra hands. Tell the Grandmaster the Holy Swords will be done in the coming week."

"Very good. His Majesty will be pleased." Varus said and bowed.

When Darkly took his eyes off of him for only second, Varus had disappeared when he looked back.

"Elusive as always." The boy said and headed into the back of the shop. "Great, should have charged that guy more if I knew this was coming."

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A heavy storm assault the late night. Winds howled until trees fell.

In such a wild night, in a certain brothel frequent by illustrious but incognito guests, on a bed in a large lavishly designed yet isolated room, a woman in her prime was bedding three men at once. While all the men are bare naked, the woman herself was in an alluring lingerie that emphasized on her divine-crafted figure. The word salacious wouldn't even be enough to describe her state.

In this dim lit room, this woman joined in a passionate embrace between three men. They filled all her orifices, leaving her moans gagging at her mouth. Although being left with no breather, the woman wasn't the one dying for a breath but the men were.

Standing by the side of the large and wide bed were more men. They are all somewhere around thirty to forty years of age. They all have decent vigor to it but none of those projected on their face. Their eyes were dead and blank, the same goes for the three who are bedding the woman. They were doing these indecent acts as if they were merely puppet dangling on strings.

There was no free will to these men and bedding wouldn't be the right word.

To others, to the men, they might be copulating. In simple words, they are having sex. In a crude manner, they are fucking like wild animals.

But none of it is what it seemed. To the woman, this was a feast. Not metaphorically but literally.

She is the proprietress of this brothel. A woman of unparalleled beauty but only few took notice of it due to her magic at work. As a Succubus, her mere presence could cause arousal to men and women alike should she choose to.

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When the three men were approaching their peak, their face strained from the incoming pleasure, the woman braced herself for her meal.

It wasn't their fluids but their excitement that incur her appetite. The fluids are just flavoring to her. It was their souls that truly fills her hunger.

However, none of those happened.

The three men instead fell lifelessly like their strings had been cut without releasing. Their head rolled off the bed and continued to do so until it reached the dark corners.

The women sprang up with a hidden knife ready to meet the assailant but her tension and caution faded when she saw a pale green hooded figure.

As much as she likes to complain, she knew the person wouldn't interrupt her feast without any grand reason. Also, the person wouldn't be here personally if the importance was any less than what she gathered it to be.

"You could at least wear a bell." The Succubus remarked, unfazed by the fact that she was now drenched in blood. Instead, she wiped a speck of blood from her cheeks and drew a line on her tongue with it. "Not bad. Nothing beats young men. So, what is it?"

"Elder Erona." The voice was definitely a woman's but it was so distorted that one couldn't be blame for mistaking it for a man's. "From His Majesty." The hooded figure said and gave her a piece of paper with her skeletal hand. It wasn't bare bones but just an arm with skin and no meat.

Erona received the folded paper with a lazy arm. She unfolded it and read the contents. It spoke about the summoning of the heroes which she already knew but what she didn't know was the long-awaited emergence of a messiah. Like every elders, she was given a role to play in this grand scheme.

"At last. After being bored for so many years, a worthy prey has come." Erona said, coyly. She turned to the hooded figure. "Is it a man? I hope it's a man."

"Not important."

"Mah~ Men or women, I'll devour them all the same."

"Exercise control." The hooded figure said.

"Just joking, Morwena. Wouldn't want to offend His Majesty after all. Now, please leave. I'm still hungry at the moment."

Without a bow or the slightest greeting, the hooded figure named Morwena retreated back into the shadows. Just like that, she was no longer in the room.

Satisfied, Erona turned to the remaining young men in the room.

For a while, when the thunder flashed, her hideous self was revealed. Wrinkled face, dilated eyes, horns, dark skin, long ears, and crooked teeth. An antithesis to her current appearance.

Still, the young men didn't turn and ran as they had already succumbed to her spell. They were far too late to escape. What awaits them is the most incredible sensual experience they will ever receive before their agonizing death.

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

It wasn't a stormy nor an ominous night, it was just a night like any other night in the capital of Zerogian Empire.

Sun has set for a long while but only know, the capital began to brim with spirit. A festival was held in celebration to the summoning of the heroes.

Lights were out throughout the governmental district but of the tallest building of the highest floor, a lanterns burn meekly in a feasible-size room.

A man in round glasses sat lonely in this room, scribbling on pages after pages. Even from such height, he could hear the occasional roars and cheers but none did those bother him.

He was wearing a respectable white coat over a white shirt. His hair was neatly combed and swept back. His hands were rough but they never tremble. They can't. If they did, then he won't be the Empire's top physician.

Far from the festive parts, he continued jotted down his reports on page after pages but stopped when his instincts warned him of an intruder.

With a click, the lock was lifted and the door swayed open slowly.

The good doctor had locked the door to his private studies and he was the only one with the key. There was even a layer of protection spell cast on the door to fend off any uninvited guests. Yet, the spell did not go off, the lock was picked opened in silent until the last inevitable moment, and the doctor was too late to realize it.

But he was not afraid for he knew that there were only a few individuals capable of such feat. And these individuals he knew are all the personal guards of His Majesty, the Grandmaster.

The doctor laid down his quill and turn to face his uninvited guest.

The guest is in tattered robes but still enough to cover his body. The only visible part of his body was his face, donned with a ominous-looking smiling mask.

The doctor was slightly mad at the sudden intrusion but he had been an Elder long than his peers, he knew that the Grandmaster wouldn't sent his own hounds if it wasn't anything important.

"Evening, Kavac." The doctor greeted the grim figure.

Instead of words, the person in the smiling mask named Kavac responded with clacking sounds.

"Forgive me but I don't speak whatever language you're speaking." In fact, the doctor knew Kavac wasn't actually speaking at all but it was an old habit of his to be prudent.

Kavac tilted his head.

The doctor sighed and splayed his hand. "Come."

Kavac closed the distance between them in a single step and placed his hand on the doctor's.

This was the reason the Grandmaster sent Kavac to the doctor. Kavac had no way of communicating other than having the receiver deducing its subtle gestures. The doctor had another way, however. His Arcane Art, [Seer] and one of the spells under [Seer] allows him to read the mind of those he touches.

The orders from the Grandmaster were conveyed to him through this method.

Immediately after message was conveyed, Kavac had disappeared without a trace. One of the traits that was shared among the Grandmaster's personal guards, they are all elusive, blunt, and efficient. Granted, they are one or two of them who are kind of different but they no less efficient.

The doctor sighed at his new orders and went back to scribbling on pages after pages.

The Shepherd's awakening and the heroes' summoning at the same time? This can't be mere coincidence.

The doctor said to himself. As a practitioner of medicine which based things on logic and facts, he wasn't the type to believe in coincidence.

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

The temple's bell tolled as the clock tower struck twelve, signifying midnight has come for Farmas Kingdom.

Every follower of the Nines had returned to their respective rooms, save for the Head Bishop of the temple. He wasn't exception to this curfew but neither could he be chastise for wandering around during the night. Such is the privilege of the Head Bishop.

Still, he couldn't afford to be seen by anyone as the person he was about to meet with was one of the most wanted criminal across Evarenan.

In the gardens where the flowers wouldn't loose their beauty to the stars of the night and under the pale moon, a young lady sat by an intricate designed fountain. She was all black except for her pale white skin. Her light and thin apparels were quite fitting for someone of her job.

"This is your idea of being inconspicuous, Ruk?" The Head Bishop asked.

"Relax, Your Holiness. No one will approach here." The lady named Ruk simply waved away the Bishop's words of worries.

Although he didn't have any basis, he somehow doubted the young lady's words could be a lie.

"Yeesh~ Quit worrying. Please act with more dignity. You're a person of a higher position now. A head priest of a temple and --"

"Bishop, actually."

"-- an Elder of the Covenant. Act like one, okay?"

The Head Bishop ignored her last words. "Here's the report."

Ruk received it with one hand which only raise the Bishop's ire. "What's in it?" She asked while shaking the rolled-up paper slightly and looking curiously at it.

"The latest Oracle from the Gods. Demon season is indeed here as long foretold by the Covenant's own Oracle."

"Ah. Jolly. Been wanting to fight some Demons for sometime now."

To that, the Head Bishop shuddered but managed to keep it from being obvious.

Demons were monsters of unprecedented ferocity and brutality. Even the weakest ones, no one sane enough would want to challenge it. Once again, the Bishop doubted Ruk was only joking.

"Why did the Grandmaster sent you? The reports could have waited and he could sent for any random couriers."

"An urgent message." said Ruk while staring at the Bishop like he was the biggest idiot in the room.

"The Heroes?"

"The Heroes are part of the message but there's more." Ruk stood up and looked the Bishop in his eyes. "You know of the Shepherd?"

"I do." The Head Bishop said, returning an intimidating gaze of his own. He knew he was only asked because he was the newcomer to this secret pact.

"Well then, I'm glad I don't need to explain all that shit to you."

"Language."

Ruk scoffed. "The Shepherd has awaken. You are to look for the Sheep before the Shepherd does."

"How am I going to find someone I don't even know who or what is it?"

Ruk giggled and a sigh follows. She twirled with her hand spread like a dancer on stage. "You're an Elder and a Head Priest, Your Holiness. I'm sure you can figure it out." She said and hopped into the air. Instead of landing, she sunk into her own shadow. And she was gone.

The Head Bishop clicked his tongue. "How unreasonable."

As he was returning to his rooms, he pondered about his choices and plans for the future.

"Just you wait, you hounds. I'll make you all regret for looking down at me" He said so to himself, alone in a the quiet night with only the sounds of the cricket accompanying him.

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

It was already midnight but it was as rowdy as ever.

It can't be helped. This is the Adventurer's Guild after all, the Kayura City Branch to be specific. The flow of adventurers going in and out never cease.

On the third floor of the Guild's building, resides the personal quarters and room of the guild's Branch Master. In contrast to the lower floors, the third floor was pin-drop silent.

Sitting at the end of the room, a lady in warm blue silk dress was gazing gently at the pale moon. Her name is Fyra Yumi, a Nine-tail fox but known to only a few. A beautiful lady of refined grace and elegance.

While enjoying the spectacle of the pale moon and a hot cup of red tea in a luxurious armchair, her dark purple hair gleamed with faint sparkles as it basks in the frail light of the pale moon. This is her leisure after a hard day work.

But unlike most night, her leisure came to an end abruptly and much too quickly on this night.

She turned back to her desk and put down the teacup back on the saucer. She then sent her gaze into one of the dark corners of the room.

"Shadow." She called out.

And the Wraith emerged from the darkness through the space which shattered like glass.

""Have my time in the Covenant finally came to end?"

The Wraith shook his head.

"Something dire then?"

"Quick as ever, Lady Yumi. And also, evening."

"Skip the pleasantries."She said and glared at the Wraith, incensed. She wasn't happy for having her only leisure time in a long day of work being interrupted.

"A message from His Majesty. Yes, dire."

"The Heroes?" She asked.

"No just about the heroes. The...."

"Shepherd, right?" She completed Shadow's sentence.

He stared for awhile before breaking the gloom silence. "How do you know?"

"Why else would he sent you? I assume this message is meant for all Elders?"

"Yes."

"Figures as much." Yumi noticed the dubious eyes of Shadow. "What? Surprised that I knew?"

Shadow remained silent.

"It's not that difficult to figure it out, you know? The prophecy of the Shepherd and its Sheep is one of the reasons the Covenant was founded after all. If you weren't sent here to assassinate me, then you must have been sent to conveyed a message that he could trust nobody else to."

The Wraith provided no response.

"Now, what does he want me to do?"

If Shadow had eyebrows, it would be twitching. Despite their detachment from most things, they were undoubtedly and absurdly loyal to His Majesty. They would not stand if anyone were to disrespect their master.

Elder Yumi is one of the oldest Elder of the Covenant. If it were anyone else that said those words, their heads would be rolling by now.

"The Demons are here."

"I could say I didn't see this coming but I'll be lying."

"The Demons will be yours to deal with it."

"I see. He's afraid of the complications the Demons would cause and I'm suppose to direct the adventurers into curbing the chaos brought by the Demons. Figures."

"His Majesty fears nothing."

Although she said nothing in return, Shadow knew his words were challenged by Elder Yumi from the way she glanced at him.

"What of the Sheep?"

"Elder Rael."

"The Head Bishop? Good luck to him. And the Shepherd?"

"Elder Dusk."

"Dusk again." Yumi said, chewing her words like a sour fruit. "And our secret ritual?"

"It will proceed as planned."

Yumi looked at the pile of papers stacked on her work desk. "No incentives?"

"None."

"Why?" She asked, disgruntled.

"I am no fit to answer on behalf of His Majesty."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

Yumi contemplate to argue further but the Wraith was right. He was in no position to deny the wishes of his master. She can only relent to the orders.

"Fine then. It can't be helped if this is what he wants. So tiring." To put weight into her helpless state, she feigned a sigh with a head shake.

"Complications?"

"None." She retorted. "Rest easy, Shadow. I wouldn't fail him. This is as important to me as it is to the Covenant."

"We shall see." The Wraith said and melded with his shadow.

"Finally. The time has come, my beloved. Soon." She said, her eyes fell on a portrait hung on the wall just above the fireplace. It is a portrait of herself with an inflated belly, entrusted in the warm embrace of a man. Her eyes were gentle to the man. Tears bubbled in her eyes but she didn't allowed it to flow out. She couldn't afford it to. She can't show any weakness now. Not when her goal is finally in sight.

Now, to make preparations for the week to come.