Lurona city [southern shores of Fuminao Legacy Kingdom], local time [1794.01.27]

Zeph gaped at her for a moment, but he quickly recognized that look on her face. He had seen it hundreds of times in the past.

It was an expression that screamed ‘shut up and follow, it’s not the time or place!’ and he knew it well. That’s why he nodded and answered simply. “Lead the way, then.”

Satisfied, she half-turned and started to wrap her face with a thick scarf.

Something about her felt more mature. It was hard to tell because of the lacking illumination and all the winter clothing, but the Alana from his memory and the woman standing before him were carrying themselves differently. Her old self was giving off a sense of confidence and fierceness, much like an overconfident brawler would. Now, her stance and movements were much more deliberate, almost graceful, yet still sharp and threatening.

It also didn’t escape his notice that she definitely got burlier. Even her face had become more angular, with a hint of thick muscles lining the sides of her neck.

‘From an adolescent boar to a mother bear’ – as a certain member of their old squad would have said.

In silence, they traversed the abandoned tunnels and dark terraces of the so-called slums. The few people shuffling in the shadows always hid their presence as they got closer, giving him an illusion that this part of the city was desolated, even if he knew better.

The half-an-hour walk helped him sort through his initial surprise and the wave of nostalgia. He had waited long to meet his old comrades. However, that was also the main reason for the anxiety that slowly took a grip on his heart, reminding him that he should stay focused.

From their point of view, Zeph was absent for seven years. It took him much longer to wake up from the System-enforced operation and coma. A lot could have changed in such a long time. And he still remembered the cryptic message left on the wall of Alana’s place of slumber – if Alex’s personality started changing right after waking up, how much different of a person could he have become after those years?

And then, he had learned that they were, most probably, leading an assassination group of some kind. An idea that would stand in direct opposition to their old beliefs, as far as he knew.

Yet, they were his crew and he trusted them. More importantly, he wanted to trust them.

Those opposing feelings were clashing within him, making his mind wander. But they also were muting each other, helping him to regain his internal balance. The unhurried stroll also helped, although it couldn’t be called serene in any way.

Finally, they stopped before an inconspicuous door on the terraces. Alana opened it with a physical key of some kind and Zeph followed her inside without a word.

The interior looked like an abandoned tavern – old, cluttered, and dusty, but illuminated weakly by two lamps giving off warm light.

After closing the doors behind him, Alana moved straight for the staircase by the bar. She grabbed the lamps and handled him one as they started ascending the stairs.

After a moment, seeing that they almost reached their destination, Zeph couldn’t help himself and spoke up. “I have expected a more… robust security, so to say.”

She looked back at him, already in the process of uncovering her face. “Large concentrations of people are easier to spot and trace. Besides, we have made sure you didn’t have a tail. Good job at that, actually. It simplified things a lot.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well. Let’s hope you have developed better detection methods than I did…”

She smirked at that but didn’t comment.

They moved at least three floors up before she led him into one of the corridors. This building didn’t seem to be used much – going by the amount of dust that settled down on the floor and other flat surfaces – but the footprints were a clear indicator that someone was visiting from time to time. He wondered if the locals were still using it as an inn, as he could spot traces leading to every room they have passed.

Alana opened the second-before-last door and a bright, yellow light spilled into the corridor. Zeph had to squint his eyes as they walked inside.

The first thing he noticed was that there were no windows here, only heavy-looking stone plates—evidently enchanted—that covered most of the surface like a random assembly of empty canvases. Most were quite small but all of them had a slightly different size, thus creating quite a chaotic display.

When looking to the right, he spotted a form sitting behind a falling-apart desk. Apparently, they hadn’t changed any furniture inside.

It took him a moment too long to recognize it was Alex.

He was skinny and pale; his clean-shaven face looked almost unhealthy. The lack of dark circles around his eyes was the only indicator that he wasn’t overworked or sick – his blue eyes were deep-set but full of life and energy. Uncannily so. His black hair was also longer, almost reaching his eyebrows in front and his shoulders at the back.

He was sitting straight on the old chair, hands clasped at the desk before him, in a perfect image of a military commander. Well, besides the small smile that adorned his otherwise stern face.

There was a short pause as Zeph took it all in.

“Ah, boss, happy to see you again!” Zeph said, almost automatically.

“Not a boss here, Zeph,” he welcomed him back with a nod while gesturing to the chairs and rack standing beside his desk. “Just Alex. But, please don’t call us by our real names outside.”

Alana was already by the rack, taking down her heavy clothing. The room was surprisingly warm despite the chill permeating the building.

“Ah, right. No worries about that,” he assured while joining Alana. “I didn’t feel any Mana construct surrounding the room?” he asked curiously.

Alex shook his face. “We have much more subtle precautions put in place.” He turned his chair to face them before continuing. “It’s a temporary dormitory, anyway.”

After taking off his clothes, Zeph turned to sit down in one of the chairs.

Then, he paused and took a double take at Alana. She was now wearing only a sleeveless shirt and tight trousers. Her arms were crossed over her chest, as she glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to sit down.

The problem was, he wasn’t able to tell if that ‘chest’ of hers contained more fat or muscles.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

She was flexing slightly, proudly presenting shapes that would have put to shame most bodybuilders on Earth.

Impossible… how did she fit in that.. he glanced back at her overcoat, then back at her. Then, once again, at the rack. Yep, impossible...

She chuckled seeing as confusion and incredulity fought for dominance on his face. “Don’t sweat it, I will explain later.”

She waved for him to choose a chair, then took the other one after he finally moved to sit down.

“Indeed, explanations later,” Alex nodded. “I believe we should discuss more pressing matters before catching up,” his tone dropped into a serious one suddenly. “You are here because you wanted to ask about that artifact from your last fight at the Tournament, no?”

The sudden straightforwardness was unpleasant, but Zeph could relate. It would be better to deal with possible issues before divulging more information. Alex was behaving even more like a military officer than in the past.

“That is the pressing matter I wanted to discuss, yes. But I also wanted to know about your situation.”

“A question for a question then?”

“Sure,” Zeph nodded.

“Then, before everything, please answer this: do you believe or suspect of being infected by a Netherling?”

Zeph raised a brow. “Are you truth reading?” Questions of that caliber weren’t asked without second-guessing the speaker.

There was a sharp nod but no comment. Zeph shook his head in disbelief. Without a visible ritual, without touching him, without him feeling anything… it was impressive, to say the least.

Actually, this room seems suspicious… can it be a ritual site? he asked himself, glancing doubtfully at the stone plates on the walls.

Closing his eyes, sighed with resignation. “Rude, but I can understand where you are coming from.” He lifted his head. “You know how it is. System Onji couldn’t detect anything and the same goes for me. I have no way to tell if that’s the case. But after the attack, the only thing we have found is… a scarring on my Soul.”

He didn’t even have to ask if they knew that the artifact was Nether-related. He suspected their initial reason for targeting Hale Jaekandu in the first place was because he contacted some shady people.

“A scarring?” Alex asked perplexed. “Interesting… how would you describe it?” he asked, massaging his chin.

“Disjoined fragments grouped more-or-less in the same area. No readable information inside, for all I know and have tried.” He shrugged. “No strange connections or any other stuff, as well. It’s deep, though. The System hadn’t mentioned it, but my meditation gave me this impression… It’s hard to describe, but I think it could be the reason why those scars seem persistent, if not permanent…”

“Okay, how about your Interface or System Diagnosis? Any additional Soul fragmentation? Damaged Skills, or anything?”

Zeph shook his head. “Nothing of the sort and no warnings. But I refused a ‘deep scan’ at the Shrine… for many reasons.”

Seeing the uncertainty on Alex’s face, he dropped the topic and took a deep breath. It was time to share some information.

“Let me answer your previous question. No, I don’t suspect or believe that I am infected with a Netherling. The chances are too small and assuming I’m wrong, the possible consequences seem manageable.”

That was a surprising declaration for Alex, going by his tilted head and strange frown.

Zeph took another deep breath and started listing his reasons. “I have a direct deal with the System Onji. I have a Shrine Seed implanted and it was present during the Attack. Not to mention, over a million UP as my ‘health insurance’.”

Alana whistled silently, looking at him with slight jealousy.

“Moreover, my Bond is a Soul Specialist—of a really big caliber, by the way—and seems to be responsible for waking me up from the coma. It ate a part of an intruding Soul fragment, if the System Onji was to be believed, causing the rest to collapse on itself.”

Alex leaned forward, his curiosity visibly growing.

“That, and our Trait…” he voiced the last word in English. Information about their Greater Willpower was still too dangerous to risk a snitch, in any circumstances. Aisha would be proud of him for remembering her lessons. Both she and her warhaxammer, for that matter.

Alex immediately nodded, indicating that he understood, so Zeph continued. “All that should be well enough to at least keep me from dying if a Netherling starts morphing. Not to mention, I can say with full certainty that I had one of the highest chances for the intrusion to be noticed by an Onji. Bare a successful experiment in a Shrine, I can’t imagine a better observation position for the System, and he wasn’t the only one watching.”

Straightening up, Alex looked a little lost for words.

“You weren’t idle on your journey, weren’t you?” Alana said, nodding at him with appreciation. “And here I thought we have found something special. Whatever,” she turned to Alex, “is he clear?”

“He is… It’s way more than I’ve suspected.” Alana cheered at that, but Alex ignored her. “What do you plan to do about that Soul ‘wound’ of yours?”

“Um, I was hoping you guys give me some clues as to what could have happened. Especially about the nature and source of that artifact. Also, I will be traveling to find a Shaman trainer soon enough. They should work with the Souls a bit, so I hoped they could give me some advice… Ah, and Gru, my Bond, is still in a coma after helping me. I am waiting for him to wake up.”

Alex opened his mouth to ask something, but paused and thought better of it. It was obvious that he had many questions, though.

“I can try to check it later if you allow me. The ‘deep’ part of your description is worrying – it sounds like it reached your core Soul, but…” Seeing Zeph’s blank expression, he stopped and elaborated. “A core Soul is the part of your Soul that was present before the System started augmenting us. We can talk about it later – I am sure you have your own questions for us?”

Zeph ignored Alana’s huff and nodded at that. He was grateful that Alex was keeping his word to address his own concerns. Although, Zeph didn’t have any reliable truth-reading method. His own technique was crude and probably wouldn’t work well if Alex was as proficient in the Soul Arts as the situation was suggesting. He would still try it if what he heard sounded implausible.

“I’ve heard about your group. The Ojaro, if I remember correctly.” Some of the energy left the room when he mentioned that name. “Why would you… start an assassin organization?”

There was a potent moment of silence before Alana started speaking. “It’s not really—”

“Alana.” Alex interrupted her harshly.

There was another pause after that.

What surprised Zeph was how quickly she closed her mouth and looked to the floor. It wasn’t like her.

“To understand that,” Alex started slowly after gathering his thoughts, “You first need to know a few facts. First, we also have a close connection to two different Onjis. Similar to your situation with the System, I suppose. But there is a major difference.”

Zeph had an idea what that was, but decided to hear him out without giving any input.

“Besides the System and a few other, major deities…” To Zeph’s displeasure, he used an English word. And it was immediately noticed. “Well, I won’t argue with you about semantics, Zeph. However, if they function like a God, then they are all the same for me. Either way, the rest of the deities have their own wars and alliances. And those can turn ugly. When their institutions become corrupted. When their believers start to self-brainwash themselves… When they start believing that harming the ‘evil’ is not only allowed but ‘sacred’… You should already be able to understand the danger of the latter – it’s probably the only safe way people on Corora have to produce a dispensable fighting force. Such Souls would still suffer, gathering wounds, but no one said you can’t direct that growing madness to cause even more violence…”

“I have an idea of what you are talking about, Alex,” Zeph said, intruding. “But I am more interested in your story. The detailed reasoning, you can add later.”

He had an impression that Alana exhaled in relief just then. But maybe it was just his imagination.

Alex threw him a scornful glance but didn’t openly oppose. “Very well. You must have heard of the Temple of the Pure Souls?”

Zeph groaned, feeling the coming headache. “The supposedly fanatic offshoot of the Temple of Souls? The ones who probably support the independence claim and rebellion of the Landlords across the lands to the north-east? Yea, they are a pain…”

They both snorted at his last comment. “That’s an understatement of the century. That faction is older than you think. They have been causing problems for the Temple of Souls from the beginning of its existence. The fact that they dared to announce the birth of a new Temple and escape the oversight of their Onji is a disaster in itself. But the fact they succeeded also means that they have found a powerful backer. Someone on the level of the deities… But I am digressing.”

He paused to center himself. Then, he leaned forward, his face back to the cold mask.

“In the times when Flesh-manipulation wasn’t looked down upon, over three hundred years ago, there was a stratum-wide outbreak of Flesh-beasts…”

Zeph paled suddenly. Oh… oh, no…

“Almost a worldwide push to eradicate responsible Manacasters, Mana-beasts, and ruling class was declared…”

He started to massage his templates. This coming headache was way worse than he had been expecting. For fuck’s sake, why?

“Certain factions were responsible for fanning the flames of war while engraving the fear of the Flesh-users into the population. Even innocent people and organizations were put to the sword. Including a population living under a certain pair of deities…”

Looking up at Alex, Zeph has lost all hope.

“The Twin sisters, Ina and Eres. The Goddess of physical nature, and the Goddess of nature of mind…”

Religion wars were the worst, even without adding forbidden magic to the mix.