Reviled stared down at the map on the table. Wooden disks marked the location of all the wererat camps in the lower sewers, and a red painted disk marked Antwuan’s nest. Black disks marked the location where the adventurers entered the sewers in the past week. Thankfully, they were coming in from the middle city where the Black Horn Guild was based.
“This is all the information we have gathered through our familiars.” Reviled said looking at the group gathered around him.
“This looks about right, my lord.” The young woman next to Eirgnon nodded. “Most adventurers won’t risk entering the sewers through the lower city. It’s too dangerous.”
Eirgnon petted her head, and she softly purred in satisfaction. “Excellent deduction my pet.” He took a deep drink of the red wine in his left hand.
“It’s rare for the Church to hire adventurers.” Meridith sighed. “You haven’t attacked any other groups, have you?” She glared at the sanguinite.
“No, my lady.” Eirgnon smiled, trying to disarm her. “We’ve simply watched them.
Skivret slammed his paw on the table. “Why don’t we attack them!” His nose shook in anger. “If they’re as big a threat to my people as you say, then we shouldn’t let them roam as they see fit.”
“The rat is right my lord.”
“Hold up,” Baron shouted, “The Black Horn Guild will start to notice when adventurers start disappearing in droves, especially if it’s an easy quest like mapping the sewers.”
“He’s right master.” Meridith nodded. “Not to mention, they’re our primary customers. Our tavern will become unprofitable if too many adventurers die or quit.”
“This is a dilemma.” Reviled scratched its chin. “Meridith, what happens if a quest becomes too dangerous?”
“The guild will pull the quest and demand compensation.” Meridith hummed in thought. “But it would need to be something truly dangerous. Sorry, Skivret.” The rat king growled but nodded in understanding.
“So, we need to make this guild pull the quest.” Eirgnon popped a small tomato in his mouth and chewed in thought. “What would happen if the adventurers found a sanguinite?”
“That would get the guild to pull the quest, but it would draw the attention of the guard.” Magia stared up in worry at Eirgnon.
Eirgnon scratched the top of Magia’s head, and she squealed in delight. “I see, and I take it the same is true for elithan ants?”
“Yes.” Magia moaned.
“Then what about undead?” Eirgnon turned to Meridith.
“As long as there aren’t any high ranked undead, it could work.” Meridith nodded. “If a sizable horde of undead was found in the sewers, then the guild should pull it, and if we keep the numbers manageable then the Church shouldn’t need to call for aid.” They all nodded.
“I’m still amazed that the Virtues were able to get their followers to work together.” Eirgnon chuckled. “I remember when their tribes fought each other just as much as they fought us.
“They Church officially formed during the reign of the Crimson Queen, four thousand years ago.” Magia nuzzled Eirgnon’s side. “That was they only way they could defeat the avatar of Gezaria and end her thousand-year rule.”
“I know. Lady Elithis bestowed me all manner of information I’d need to survive.” Eirgnon sighed. “However, seeing how much everything has changed since my time is still upsetting.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Skivret snapped.
Eirgnon glared down at Skivret, but Magia bared her fangs. “Don’t speak to master Eirgnon like that, you sewer rat!”
“Enough!” Reviled’s growl caused everyone to flinch. “We still have the saint to deal with.”
“If I may, my lord.” Eirgnon tapped on a section of the map closest to the middle city. “I suggest we set up an ambush right here. We can amass the undead here and allow them to spread out. It’ll be even more convincing if several groups went missing as well.” He gave Reviled a toothy smile.
“You’re allowed to feed and grow your brood but keep your impulses in check,”
“Thank you, my lord,”
“M-master.” Mina stepped out from behind Meridith.
Reviled’s voice went soft. “What is it, dear?”
“May… I join you?” Mina held her instrument up. “I’ve been practicing… and I want to be useful. Like my brother.”
“It’ll be dangerous,”
“I know,” Mina bashfully said, “But I want to prove myself.”
Reviled stared at her for a long time. “Very well,” it said, “But you will retreat should the fighting become too intense.”
Mina smiled brightly. “Thank you master!”
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Urielle sat across from the Black Horn Guild master, staring at the sheet of parchment he had passed to her. She hadn’t expected this news.
“There’s an undead horde underneath the city!” She covered her mouth.
“That’s right, and we’ve lost eight members because of it,” Aberny said, “The ones that survived mentioned a sizable horde lingering there.” He glared at her with his hands clasped. “Is there something you forgot to tell us?”
“No!” Urielle gasped. “All we needed was for your adventurers to locate the wererat camps in the sewers. We weren’t expecting to find the undead down there.”
Aberny fixed his gaze on her eyes, then sighed. “Well, they’re there, and it’s too much for our current adventurers.” He pulled out another sheet and handed it to her. “I’m hereby pulling your quest for the safety of my members, and I am suing the Church for damages accrued. I’ve already filed my petition with the castle, so the Jericho Cathedral shall be notified soon.”
“I… understand.” Urielle bowed her head. “I apologize for the trouble my quest has caused. I’ll see to it that you receive your due.” She tucked the report into the pouch on her belt.
“What’s down there, Saint Urielle?” Aberny swallowed in worry.
“Something that is beyond your understanding.” Urielle tried keeping her voice steady as she left.
Urielle slowly made her way through the guild’s main hall. Young adventurers, many of whom had just become adults, loitered around the quest board. Their bright eyes shined with hope and excitement, and they spoke cheerfully about the quests they were undertaking. Her stomach twisted at the image of them being torn apart by the undead, and she fought the urge to vomit. Guilt grasped her heart as she left. The monster may have killed them, but it was her fault they were there.
Her carriage sat ready, and she quickly stepped inside. “Take me to the cathedral.”
The carriage shook as it moved down the road. The people outside were simply going about their day. Children played, joyfully laughing with each other, and women performed the daily duties with warm smiles on their lips, and the men worked hard to provide for their families. It reminded her of that village.
It was a normal day. The villagers went about their daily routine without a care in the world, until the messenger arrived. Simply remembering the pale rider made her sick to her stomach. The monster, an abomination that merged the torso of a man with the body of a horse and four twisted arms coming out of its back, heralded the arrival of the Wight King’s army. It slaughtered the villagers indiscriminately, and in fear, everyone ran to the small church. The children’s cries pierced her hearts, and the women desperately tried to keep their fear in check. The men bravely kept the pale rider away from the church, and one had even made it out with a message. Unable to stand by, she cast Divine Ward over the church. Pain wracked her body as the undead struck her, for the agents of the Dead Gods couldn’t abide the divine spell in their midst. For five, long, grueling days she kept the spell up. While the villagers slept, ate, and drank, she stood vigilante. Her desire for the villager’s safety fueled her faith, and she knew Lady Shecoga wouldn’t abandon them, and her faith was rewarded.
She didn’t remember much after that. The toll she took kept her bedridden for nearly three months, but her feat impressed those who witnessed it. When she was finally strong enough to walk, His Holiness recognized her as a saint, a title unfitting for the small village priestess. Now, as she looked at the people outside, she steeled herself, ready to prove herself worthy of the title.
The carriage came to a halt, and the footman opened the door. She stepped into the cathedral and waved over an attendant.
“Send a messenger to summon Sir Halligan and Sir Elizar.” She ordered. “Ask them to be here within the hour and ready for a fight.” The attendant bowed and ran off. She gestured to another attendant. “Inform the paladins that I need them ready for combat.” The attendant quickly ran off and she gestured to a group of young priestesses. “Please assist me in getting ready.”
Urielle stepped into her room, a large spacious room filled with rich furniture and treasures, a room unbecoming of one called a saint. She slipped off her clothes until she stood there in nothing but her undergarments. She opened the ornate chest at the foot of her bed and laid each piece on the bed.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Could you please help me get dressed,”
“Lady Saint.” The priestesses looked at her in worry. “This is your battle gear.”
“It is.” Urielle stepped up on the raised platform in front of the stand. “I go to fight the evil in this city.”
The priestesses nodded. They slipped the white tights onto her legs, and they fit snuggly around her waist. The white corset hugged her body and pressed her bosom upwards. It made her envious of women with smaller busts. With the corset secured, the priestesses strapped on the breastplate. The blessed steel radiated white with golden inlay which was shaped like a peacock in flight. It fully covered her breasts but left her collarbone and neck exposed. Blessed steel bracers adorned her arms, and greaves adorned her boots beneath her thigh guards. An armored skirt designed like a peacock’s tail was strapped around her waist with a single flap hanging down her front. The priestesses bound her hair back with braids as they placed a silver and gold circlet with a white veil on the top of her head. A mantel hung off her shoulders covering the exposed flesh around her neck. A priestess handed over her staff, a whitewashed rod with a golden peacock topper.
Urielle dismissed the priestesses with gratitude, and when the door closed, she stared at her reflection. She fought back against the embarrassment with a deep breath. She tried to ignore the pain in her heaving chest, and eventually she calmed herself down.
“Reviled Legion, your reign of terror ends today.”
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Reviled sat in its box. Its consciousness was spread among the familiars overlooking the entrances to the sewers. To be safe, it even had familiars looking over the gates in the slums. The shrieking of a gate drew its attention. It shifted among the many familiars until it found the door. A group of eight stepped into the sewers. It recognized the five paladins by the scapulars hanging off their armor, and the one in blessed armor must be Saint Urielle. Then there was Halligan, who it remembered, along with an elderly wizard. Something was amiss though.
“Why have they entered through the upper city?” Reviled opened its eyes to address the group in front of it.
Baron scratched his chin. “The cathedral is in the upper city. Maybe they wanted to enter through the closest gate.”
“If they did enter through the upper city, then that is a boon for us.” Eirgnon smiled viciously. “It gives us more time to prepare.” He snapped his fingers and the diluvians adorned in cursed armor stood up. “My diluvian guard is ready.”
“As am I.”
Mina stepped into the basement bar. She wore black robes accented with golden flowers and petals with a red obi sash hugging her waist. Her black hair was set into twin buns by golden hairpins with the excess hair draped over her exposed shoulders. A black fox mask hung off the side of her head, and her rymujin was strapped around her shoulder. Mina stood tall under everyone’s gaze.
Reviled stood and approached her. “We have a beautiful onomori.” It stared down at her. “Are you sure you want to come?”
“Yes,”
“Then remember our orders.” It gently brushed away a lock of hair. “You are to retreat should it get too dangerous.” Mina nodded resolutely. “Then let’s go greet our guests.”
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Halligan’s gaze shifted down the side tunnel. He couldn’t see much beyond the golden light provided by the motes flying above their heads. He returned his gaze back to the main tunnel, but it lingered on Urielle.
She didn’t belong in a place like this. The filthy, disgusting sewers contrasted with her heavenly beauty, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring. Her stern gaze remained focused ahead of them, as if she could see where their target was.
“You’re staring lad.” Halligan pulled his eyes away from Urielle to the elderly wizard next to him. “She is… quite the sight though.” He gave Halligan a cunning smile. “Should I distract the others for you?”
“She’s a saint, Elizar, and I’m just a farm boy.” Halligan sighed. “Besides, there’s a woman back home waiting for me.” Elizar nodded but kept quiet.
They continued moving through the sewers and descended the stone steps that led to the sewers of the middle city. Torrn took point with his massive tower shield ready while Emir followed behind helping them navigate with the map. Urielle moved in the center of the group, surrounded by the remaining paladins, while Halligan and Elizar watched their back. The darkness of the sewers was broken up by the occasional patch of light coming from the water grates.
“How long have we been down here?” Sir Giale said looking through a grate.
“A few hours at most.” Elizar scratched at his trimmed beard. “We probably should have entered through the middle city.”
“I… didn’t think about that.” Urielle pouted in frustration. “I’m sorry, everyone.”
“It’s too late to worry now,” Emir said, “We should be nearing the section under the lower city.”
Halligan’s face twitched when his left arm started to itch. “We’re close.”
Everyone turned to him. “How can you tell?” Sir Regald asked.
Halligan held up the gauntlet on his left arm, and the paladins nodded. They drew their weapons and slowly crept forward. Halligan was surprised when Urielle slowed down to walk next to him, and Elizar left with a sly smile.
“How did you get a cursed gauntlet?” Worry filled Urielle’s eyes.
“I was foolish.” Halligan chuckled. “I was desperate to make my fortune in the war, but then I realized I was in over my head. So, I stole it off a lich-knight.” Urielle gave him a disappointed look. “It’s not like that,” he said, “The woman I loved was sold into slavery to pay off her family’s debt. I thought, I could make enough to free her.”
“I see.” Urielle twirled a lock of hair. “Your intentions were well, even if they were foolish.”
“Does everyone hear that?” Torrn held up his fist causing them all to stop.
Underneath the scurrying of rats and the dripping of water, there was a faint twang. The sound was hauntingly terrifying with each note sent a shiver down their backs, and the air suddenly felt cold. They each stared into the darkness.
“I don’t like this.” Elizar swallowed.
“W-We must keep going.” Urielle stood straighter. Her hands tightly gripped her staff. “This monster must be destroyed.”
“Bold words coming from a frightened girl.” Out of the darkness stepped their target. It stood nearly seven feet tall, and its piercing red eyes glared at the Saint. It held out its arms. “Well, here we are. Come and destroy us… if you can.” Reviled’s cackle blended with the music, making it sound terrifying.
“Dammit, it looks like Bartholomew fixed it!” Halligan snarled as he drew his sword. He held it in both hands, but he couldn’t get the blade to stop shaking.
“Something isn’t right.” Elizar was sweating profusely. “It’s surrounded in wind and fire mana, but…” he clutched at his ears. “This damn noise is making it hard to concentrate!”
“What are we waiting for!” Giale drew his weapon and charged. His war cry didn’t sound terrifying with its high pitch.
“No stop!” Elizar snapped
It was too late. Reviled stood there laughing as the paladin charged at it. Giale screamed in shock as he passed right through the monster. Water and sewage splashed onto the stone walkway, and Giale’s cries could be heard from the darkness.
“It was an illusion.” Elizar pulled at his hair. “Damn it, I should have caught that.”
Urielle frantically looked around and her eyes landed on Reviled’s feet. “Sacred Blast!” A golden ball struck the ground, and the illusion of Reviled disappeared. “Quick, let’s go help Giale!”
They came upon a small water reservoir in the middle of a four-way intersection. They reached the edge, and Urielle released a harrowing shriek. Crimson blood stained the stone, and the water red. Mutilated corpses shambled about, their moans echoing off the walls and mixed with unsettling tone.
“Help me!” Giale screamed as he tore his blade free from a zombie.
Halligan and the four paladins jumped into the reservoir with their weapons drawn. Blades severed rotten flesh, and spells rained down from above. The more they fought, the more zombies they drew to them. The bodies began littering the ground, making it difficult to move. Emir stumbled over a corpse and screamed when a zombie tore out a chunk of his arm. Two zombies clasped onto Torrn’s shield causing him to stumble under the weight. Regald, Niel, and Giale were trapped in a corner fighting for their life. Halligan moved amongst the undead, slashing at any that approached.
“Virtue’s Domain!” Urielle slammed her staff on the ground. Light expanded from her and covered the entire reservoir. When it touched a zombie, it fell to the ground motionless. The paladins panted from exhaustion. “Graceful Aura!” Everyone took a deep sigh as the divine mana encapsulated them.
“That fucking monster!” Giale barked, wiping the blood off his face. “Where is it?”
“I-It was an illusion.” Torrn couldn’t take his eyes off the bodies. “Virtues, who in their right mind would create such an abomination?”
“I don’t understand,” Elizar said, “Where’d all these bodies come from?”
“From the city of course.” Reviled stalked down the other walkway.
Urielle growled. “Another illusion.”
“Correct. To think you were able to locate the familiar projecting it.” Reviled chuckled. “As for your question mage, you’d be surprised how many people go missing in the slums. After all, they aren’t nearly as important as the wealthy.”
“You monster!” Urielle screamed with tears in her eyes. “H-How could you? They… didn’t deserve this.”
“You have no right to say that.” Urielle’s face was a mixture of anger and pain. Torrn and Regald held back Giale, who was trying to climb out of the pit. “You’re Church has done nothing for them. Instead, they’re an accomplice to their suffering. After all, many of these poor souls were refugees. Each promised a better life by your Church, only for them to end up in the slums.”
“Damn you.” All of them stared at Reviled in contempt.
“Are we supposed to be intimidated.” Reviled laughed at them. “We weren’t sure how well the zombies would fare against five paladins, and yet we are… unimpressed, especially with you Saint. We thought you’d be on par with Solomon, but it seems you’re nothing more than a girl who’s in over her head.” Reviled turned away and disappeared into the darkness.
“Quit hiding monster!” Urielle screamed as the paladins climbed out.
Blood rushed to Halligan’s face in anger, and he clenched his fists. “You weren’t this cowardly before!”
“Cowardice is the fool’s term for caution.” Reviled’s voice echoed off the walls. “True cowardice would be you all running away when we are so close.” Its cackle was the last thing they heard from the monster.
Halligan couldn’t help but glare into the darkness. The damn monster was taunting them. Five paladins, a Saint, and a hero’s apprentice. Who did that fucking monster think it was. He looked at the others, and it seemed that they were thinking the same thing, all except Elizar.
“I think we should retreat.” Elizar said, but the others glared at him.
“We’re not leaving!” Urielle snapped.
“That’s right, I’m going to cut its fucking head off and then mount it on my wall.” Giale growled with bloodshot eyes.
Halligan gestured into the darkness. “Let’s go everyone. Torrn take the lead.”
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Reviled stood over Mina, gently dabbing her forehead with a dry towel. She sat on a plush stool with her back resting against Reviled’s legs. Her chest heaved violently which caused Eirgnon to ogle her exposed flesh. The sanguinite turned away when Reviled glared at it.
“You should have told us you needed to rest.” Reviled growled at her. “You are vital to this plan.”
“I’m… sorry master,” Mina said, “I wanted to be as useful as possible, but it looks like I ended up being a hinderance.”
“Nonsense, you were amazing.” Reviled gently brushed the hair off her face. “Your music kept them from coming together properly.” Mina smiled warmly at it.
“Lady Mina, did you change songs at the end?” Eirgnon carefully looked at the young woman.
“I did.” Mina released a light chuckle. “When I realized that master Reviled was taunting them, I changed the song to induce anger. I… thought that it might keep them from running away.” Eirgnon started laughing. “Did I make a mistake.”
“Not at all, my lady.” Eirgnon applauded her with the other diluvians joining in. “In truth, I am even more enamored with you. You are a skilled bard, my lady.”
“I still have a long way to go.” Mina looked at the ground. “A true onomori could have sustained the song’s influence for an entire day.”
“Then I recommend practicing on the tavern patrons.” Eirgnon tapped his chin. “Also, according to the knowledge Lady Elithis gave me, you should play songs that match the influence you’re trying to inspire.”
“I’ll… start doing that.” Mina blushed heavily. “But a true onomori… writes her own songs.” Everyone stared at her in silence.
“You… write your own songs?” Reviled stared down at her, and Mina nodded in embarrassment. “Then we should speak with Meridith about supporting this gift.”
“Indeed.” Eirgnon’s smile faded. “My lord, they’re heading in the wrong direction. Should I correct their path?”
“Do it.” Reviled chuckled as it looked at Mina. “Are you ready dear?” Mina nodded with a, surprisingly, vicious smile and she started playing her instrument. She played a fast-paced, chaotic tune. “Let’s see how they handle this.”