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“You’re mad.”

The bodyguard who spoke to me had bluish hair peeping out from underneath their veils. It was the same bodyguard who had summoned the Amphiptere before. “You are absolutely mad.”

“Say the word, Bishop. And I’ll take his head off.” The other bodyguard whose name I didn’t particularly care to learn, took a step forward. He brandished a sword menacingly, his other hand glowing with black and green light.

The Kojisa Bodyguard had taken out her weapon too, a small scythe. They both took a step closer to me, expressions hidden beneath the curtain-like mask they employed.

“Ka-hah! Come! Come! COME! AT ME SSSSCIONSS!” Skaris laughed as he stepped forward and before I could stop him, his spear flickered out. The tip blazed into brilliant blue light as supernatural flames burned to life. It was so hot in fact that I had to fight not to shy away from it.

It wasn’t just him. I don’t know since when but every single one of my companions were standing next to me.

Aurora hadn’t drawn her weapon but she was just behind me. Her silver armor gleaming with pride. Stole stood a little behind her, spaced between Aurora and myself. The girl gave me a terrified look and tried to give me a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry about anything or anyone behind you, Lock.” Kyrian said from somewhere behind me.

Then Kyrian put his back to mine. I couldn’t see him, but heard him whispering arcane words beneath his breath, his hair starting to stand out at all ends with latent electricity producing static.

And I knew without looking at myself that I suddenly stood a little bit straighter. I was holding my chest a little bit higher and my chin was sticking out defiantly. I didn’t dare move my hand towards my sword. Skaris having his weapon out could be explained as self-defense. But if I drew mine? I knew in my heart that Aurora, Stole and Kyrian wouldn’t hesitate to follow suit.

And their presence and the undoubtable knowledge of everything that they were risking to stand next to me filled me with pride that I almost wanted to start a fight. I wanted to draw my sword and fight, to show all these hesitating adventurers and the Holy Knights and the Priests and the Bishop and his two Scion Bodyguards that as long as my party stood next to me, nothing could stop me. That I wasn’t afraid of anything, that this party that I created –no, we made together– would jump into the gullet of a beast’s mouth if one of us was in danger. I wanted to show Clover that this was what a comrade was, a party that would walk into certain death if one of their own was threatened.

Subconsciously, I glanced over at Clover’s side.

Lety and I looked at each other.

She looked away in shame.

…Damn.

“Fucking mad, the lot of them.” Delas whispered into the silence.

“...They’re insane.” Someone else agreed.

“You made your point, Slaveborn.” Zenom strode in between the two bodyguards and my party. He didn’t flinch away from the weapons, standing between Skaris and the orange-haired bodyguard. “Have your party stand down.”

“Mister, over there, by the main ship. There’s an archer pointing his bow in this direction.” Stole pointed with her Arbalest. “Is that Holy Knight guys trying to lower our guard? So they can shoot us from the back?”

Ah-ha, so the Bishop had three bodyguards in total.

As soon as Stole said the words, I saw the two bodyguards share an almost imperceptible look. Without the [Crow Totem] I might never have caught it, but Darkvision means by Sight is almost maxed out. The two shied away an inch from me. But Stole’s words had more of an effect than just that. Half of the Wayfinder and Pioneer in the group strained their head towards the main ship, eyes searching with shock. The other half simply stared at Stole, equally as surprised.

I could understand why. We were more than a thousand yards out.

“No, Sir Zenom,” I said, putting emphasis on the words ‘sir’. “Wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Skaris still hadn’t lowered his spear and Zenom looked at the spear, then glared at me. “Slaveborn, stand. Down.”

I glared right back at Zenom. Then I chose my words carefully. “Is that your order or the Bishop’s order?”

And he reeled back like I had slapped him.

“I came to this quest, because I trusted you, Zenom Saintred. Because you have a reputation as a Holy Knight, for integrity and honor.” I was lying out my teeth, I didn’t even know about Zenom until Kyrian and Aurora had told me about him. “And I’m sure most of the adventurers here can say the same.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

There was a round of general agreement.

“So, I ask you.” I put a hand on Skaris’ arm and he gently lowered the flaming spear. “Whose order should I be listening to?”

Then so quiet that only he could hear, “Is this how the Great Turina treats those who have pledged themselves to its cause?”

Zenom gritted his teeth, clenching his fist and opening it a few times.

“Sir Zenom-” The Bishop started.

“This is my expedition, and I am the Leader of this Quest.” Zenom spoke before the Bishop could finish. He held my gaze evenly. “So listen to me, Slaveborn. Stand down. I won’t say it again.”

After Skaris’ spear stopped burning, I gestured to the bodyguard’s weapons with my chin.

Zenom turned to them. “Put your weapons away.”

The bodyguards didn’t move.

Then Zenom Saintred, the Holy Knight of Light, Flame and Shield whirled in a fury, his ruby-red cloak spreading out to cover my view. There was the sound of a sword being unsheathed. When the cloak had settled down, I saw that the orange-haired bodyguard had fallen a few paces back. He was holding the shortsword with both, forearm muscles twitching.

Zenom had his sword out.

“I won’t ask again.”

“Sir Saintred, how dare you!” The Bishop found his voice again. “You dare strike at an agent of the Church?”

“I strike at an agent of the Church who dares to dirty its name!” Zenom took a step forward. “Your eminence, with all due respect, this is mission was entrusted to me and these adventurers are here under my command.”

The Bishop didn’t cower from Zenom like he did from me. I was an adventurer, a former slave. An unpredictable variable. But Zenom was his direct underling from the Church. He stepped up to meet the much taller Holy Knight, looking at him in the eyes without flinching. “This deviant dares to go against the Church’s teachings and you reward him instead of punishing him as is right!”

Zenom sheathed his sword. He had no intention of escalating the situation until it dissolved its violence either. Yet, when he spoke, his words were steel and just as sharp as a blade.

“What Slaveborn suggests is right.” Zenom’s face was blank. “There is no point in wasting the time of these Adventurers. Their time would be better spent working for the Church and aiding in the gathering of the Fruits.” He looked down at the Bishop. “Or is there a reason why you would want to slow down the repair of the ships? This mission is a Holy Mission, ordained to me. Why would you question my decision on what the best course of action would be, Your Eminence?”

The Bishop’s mouth opened and closed a few times like a goldfish. He flushed with anger, not knowing what to say.

Finally, he pointed a finger to me. “And him? He dared to draw his blade and threaten a member of the church no less.”

“Fucking tattletale.” Stole said and a few adventurers chuckled. But it soon died out, choked out by the Bishop’s menacing look.

But now, thanks to Stole, that’s what he looked like. Just a baby, throwing a tantrum, because he didn’t get what he wanted.

“Slaveborn,” Zenom said, not taking his eyes off the Bishop. “Will you apologize?”

“Sorry.” I said immediately. “I apologize.”

And I said it, dripping with sarcasm. “Sincerely so. I did not mean to offend you, Your Eminence.”

At this rate, I was going to need a mop.

I didn’t think it was possible but the Bishop turned redder. Then without a single word, he spun away and walked away.

“...I believe that was more insulting than you casually threatening to kill him.” Aurora said, looking worried.

But the moment was over. Zenom spun to face the crowd and all attention was on him once more. My party’s action would come under scrutiny later, but everyone looked to Zenom, eager for what words he would say next. My role in this was over as well, so I tried my best to appear just another face in the crowd.

“I will arrange things, so that every party is given a fruit for each member.” His gaze sweeped through the crowd. “However, know that this is a privilege, not a right. You will be expected to bring in enough fruits to make up for the ones you use. Whichever party cannot get enough fruit will have this privilege suspended.”

Keeping it short, Zenom dismissed us.

Looking strangely satisfied, Cecilia followed after Zenom.

My plan had been rather roundabout. I hadn’t counted on convincing the Bishop. That was a losing game.

But making Zenom wake-up from this timid attitude he had adopted? Making him take control of this expedition the way he was supposed to? From the short time I spent with Zenom, he didn’t hate adventurers. He was a man of logic and faith and there was nothing in his faith about being tough to us. Also, Kyrian and Aurora hinted to his political savviness more than us. If I gave him the opportunity to take back power from the Bishop, I knew he would take it.

“Well done, Slaveborn.” Borealis clapped me on the shoulder, walking by with his party. “Perhaps I was wrong about you.”

The parties were moving, each of them preparing for the expedition that lay ahead. But as they did, a lot of them came and gave me snarky comments or encouraging ones. Dorocian even winked at me as she walked by, Gurran giving me an approving look. Even Delas and the Maria girl from Arione’s party told me good job.

Lety never came by.

Kyrian let out a breath he had been holding and when we were away from the crowd. Everyone else began to talk at the same time.

“I hate your plans.” Kyrian said.

“Sssslaveborn, I tire of all this talking. Letssss hunt ssssomething.”

“I’m hungry, Mister.”

Aurora smiled at me. “Well, Mr. Lock. You worked so hard to get us this opportunity. I assume you have something in mind?”

“Yeah.” I smiled at my comrades.

“You guys want to go shopping?”

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Clover was packing up her things when someone came in the room and locked the door.

“What is it?” She asked without turning around or even asking who it was.

L’teya, Fourth Daughter of Agda, leaned against the door. She kept her eyes carefully fixed on the floor.

“Clover.”

There was something about the way that L’teya said her name that grabbed Clover’s attention. How you can tell when someone wants to tell you something that’s going to change something. Something that mattered, and something that was important. When a lover calls you and says they need to talk. Or when your siblings calls you, telling you not to panic.

When a friend says ‘I want to talk to you.’

Clover refused to turn around. She couldn’t, Her movements became faster, angrily grabbing supplies for the expedition ahead.

“Clover.”

“Lety, shouldn’t you be preparing for the expedition? This is a chance to get you a Core. A real Shielder Core. I’m tired of seeing you get hurt.” Even as Clover said it, the words didn’t sound quite right. Something in the tone that Clover couldn’t put a finger on. Something about the tone, the inflection or perhaps the word choice itself. It sounded rushed somehow, pained and a little angry.

Unbeknownst to Clover, L’teya smiled; her face still downcast.

“I was wondering about something.”

“I’m really busy here, Lety. Can this wait?” Again, Clover said the words but they felt far away. Like they were underwater.

And Clover realized she didn’t want Lety to talk. She wanted Lety to just get out of the room and let her prepare in peace. L’teya had no idea what kind of things Clover had to think about. She had to balance Arione’s temper against Lock’s paranoia, all the while keeping up a farce in front of Arrosh’s eyes. Then there was Maria, that venomous snake, always looking for a way to gain an advantage over the others.

Did L’teya know what Clover herself was doing to keep themselves safe? Did she understand just how much was at stake here? If they failed, Oung would have no use for them. She knew there were other Kaguras. Arione would have no use for them. And it wasn’t like they could count on Lock either.

It’d be just like the Samak Horde. Left alone, powerless without anyone to rely on. It’d be just Clover trying to hold everything together.

“...If the Elven Mage,” L’teya began and Clover fought not to scream in frustration. “Spoke up against the Bishop like that, would you have done what Lock’s comrades did?”

Clover gripped her knapsack so hard that she could imagine it tearing open, spilling everything on the floor.

“Yes, I would have.”

Lety didn’t say anything.

“Truly?” L’teya asked again.

Wrong. Just wrong. Everything wrong. Going to be all alone again. Without anyone to help. She was just a merchant’s daughter in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to keep everyone alive. Why her? Why was L’teya doing this? Didn’t she know everything that happened till now was to keep them alive?

But Clover held her tongue. She simply said, “Lety, we are a party. We look out for each other. We trust each other. That’s what we do.”

She couldn’t see L’teya’s expression because she still had her back to her.

After a panic-inducing moment of quiet, Lety laughed.

“Ahahaha! That’s true isn’t it? We’re a party. I was just curious! I hate his guts but yes, we should stick up for each other. I’ll go get ready then. Don’t be late, Clover!”

Clover heard the door close as L’teya left.

Wrong.

All Wrong.

Just... Just wrong.

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