Hans raised a hand to cure the woman of her affliction, and the bliss faded from her eyes. Again and again he cured as he walked, common people and paladins alike having falling victim to a most insidious substance that found its way into the capital. Those who could not bare these dark nights had turn to the escape of ignorant bliss in great numbers, such that the security of the capital was put at risk by clouded thoughts and sluggish response. Hans knew that what he did was merely treating the symptom. They had to find the source of their troubles and bestow righteous judgement.
“Cardinal! Cardinal!” A haggardly woman fell to her knees before him, frayed desperation claimed her expression. “Please… I cannot find my children. Please tell me where they are!”
Hans paused in silent confusion. Before the accursed invasion of heathens the church in all its benevolence deemed it best for those on the outskirts to sent their children to the capital where they would be safer. And their location was never in doubt. “They should be in the orphanage-”
“I have checked!” The woman blurted. “I checked, I checked but they aren’t there. No one knows where they are. They tell me they were never here but that’s not true. I sent them here, to be safe…”
“...fret not, lamb of Sol. I will search for them.”
“Thank you… thank you, cardinal.” The woman broke into tears of relief and Hans took his silent leave.
A madwoman, Hans suspected. She was not the first he had seen, nor would she be the last, he feared. However, something about it grated on his thoughts. As he neared the entrance to the cathedral, he continued on instead, heading towards a large estate within the city. A foolish action, he admonished himself but the trace of concern that would not leave his mind compelled his steps in that direction.
He passed through the guarded gates without so much as a word from paladins and glanced around at the children in the garden. Some concern and worry on a few of their faces, but that was only naturally. They were separated from their families and doubtless were affected by the noise of the heathen attacks. But most seemed well and normal. He entered the building and found more of the same.
“Cardinal.” A round man with thin hair greeted with a smile. “It is truly a blessing to have you here. Have you come to preach to the children?”
“No…” Hans turned his attention to who he could only assumed was the head caretaker. “A woman approached me in the streets, claiming she could not find the children she sent here.”
“Ah…” A look of pity found the man’s face. “There have been many like that, recently. Those poor unfortunate souls who have lost their children since the Change. Their minds cannot bare the grief so they flee from the bitter truth…”
“I see. May they find peace in the light of Sol. I shall take no more of your time.”
“Light be with you, Cardinal.”
“And with you.” Hans turned to leave, the concern in the back of his mind replaced with condolence for the misfortune.
He glanced at the playing children as he left the gates, and came to a stop. A thought entered his mind, one he had not considered until now. The numbers were too few, far too few for what should be children from across the theocracy. Even considering the multiple facilities, even considering their poor chances of surviving the trials, it was too few. Hans continued on, back to the cathedral, the concern in his mind more prevalent than ever.
---
A horde of vampires lunged towards Chariot with beastial hisses and the vanguard slaughtered them like vermin. Shin sat out, the amalgamation of curses afflicting him still not cured but Kamala was slowly making progress in that end. In his place, he summoned his spirits to do as they pleased.
“Fight worthy of the king, servants!” Mara ordered sharply. “Do not allow any harm to befall him as he rests.”
Her words were largely ignored by increasingly annoyed members of the party. Even Kong fought sparingly, as though he did not have the root of his soul safely stored within Shin. Inari took no head of the inferior spirit, for she was already slaughtering the vile creatures with abandon, as she would do regardless. But she did spare a resentment glance to the latest addition of the party.
Vicious swam through shadows with a wicked smile, clawing and biting and piercing the enemies apart such that they would linger long enough to despair their fate. His rank had dropped after joining Shin’s soul, down to Greater Lord as all the others, but the garm was still powerful, the same legendary elite as herself. And she did not like it.
“He is no king.” Vicious snapped back at her.
Cold rage took Mara’s eyes as she blasted the wolf’s mind, and in his seething rage he retaliated. In the flash of an eye, he blurred by her side with open jaw, but halted his fangs still around her as the subtle intent filled his thoughts with dread for a moment. Vicious glanced at the calm hollow eyed boy looking elsewhere and with restrained frustration slipped back into the shadows.
Yen failed to upgrade a dense glowing sphere of fire in her palm, and sighed in annoyance as the last of the vampires fell to others. “Fuckers are everywhere now…”
“The attack we accidentally stopped must have been important…” Jean responded. “Probably reducing the power of this side before trying again.”
“Yeah… Well, it’s free training, I guess. Are we taking out the vampires or the church first?”
“It depends.” Kamala answered.
“On?”
“What the others do.”
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---
Hundreds of inquisitors charged with abominable cries and hundreds more charged to meet them. An army of the many races of the initiate worlds and even more local combatants outnumbered and beat back their monstrous foes once again, as the powerhouses among them struck the fatal blows. A burning white light from above erased half a dozen as had been done many times before, and victorious roars filled the air.
Chandra walked back over to the side of a boy atop a warhorse donning regal warring armor of custom make and the upright sword sigil of the royal house. Young, overwhelmed, and forlorn, the boy’s impression had hardly changed much from the moment Chandra took him under his wing.
“What’s on your mind?”
The boy held silent but Chandra waited patiently. “...what is the point?”
“Of what?” The boy’s eyes glanced over the celebrating army and Chandra turned with it for a moment, though he had already known the answer. “People want to live.”
“They’re not… Marie… and Antoine are dead. I don’t care about these people.”
Chandra held for a patient moment then strolled a bit closer to pet the horse’s head. “I know it’s hard. Shouldering this burden.”
“What do you know?” Clovis snapped back with a little more emotion, however dour.
“I have responsibilities too. The lives of many people depend on me.” The boy glanced over briefly but said nothing, so Chandra continued. “Losing someone close to you is the most terrible pain… And it never really goes away.”
“...who?”
“My mother. When I was around your age. I was meant to die, and she protected me.” Chandra reminisced on something in silence. “But an even worse pain… is letting those precious to you who gave their lives for yours go to waste. We must move forward. For those who cannot… and those who still can.”
Clovis’ eyes followed Chandra’s gaze to the army whose balked slightly under the number of those looking to him with expectations and adoration. “Raise your sword.” Chandra aided from the side.
Clovis hesitated for a moment, then tentatively drew the sword of his waist high and a glowing light illuminated the world to the rise of even more invigorated cheers. The morale and hopes and passion washed over the boy king, and as he sat there atop a gallant horse, his bleak frozen expression started to melt.
Not long after the battle, the rebel army set up camp and festivities begun amongst those not on guard duty, as often happened. A security liability and hardly the most effective use of personnel, but it did wonders for morale and for Clovis’ reputation, which grew by the day whether he wanted it to or not.
“How’s the boy?’ Priya walked over. “Is he a king yet?”
“He needs a more time.”
“We don’t have much more.” She reminded him. “Why not just storm the capital now. We have the numbers.”
“Not yet.” Chandra walked over to a large tent erected nearby, and Priya spared him a dismissive glance before turning back to her wine.
Chandra gave a cursory inspection over the row of capable guards around and entered through the flap. Clovis had a bed to sleep in they commandeered from a noble’s estate they crossed, and more guards stood guard around him, most being Pandavas.
“Can’t sleep?”
“They’re too loud.” The boy’s attitude wasn’t there yet, but it was getting better.
“Just going to have to bear with that, I’m afraid. Soldiers need to blow off steam-”
Chandra just barely reacted to a blur from the dark. A dull gold dagger passed straight through his mythic tier Fortress but clanged against his skin, protected by his soul armor. The dark elf shadowdancer from the tournament, he recognized.
“Enemy!” He roared as she dodged his shining fist in counter, and immediately realized that sound was cut off, if a response was this delayed.
More dark elves lunged from the dark at the guards, just barely able to hold them off. One guard cast a ward around the boy king and Chandra smited the air to destroy the tent as a signal but his spell was stolen away by one of the elves and crashed down on the ward.
A pandava guard teleported the boy out of range just barely in time, but shadowdancer acted. The point of her dagger passed through Clovis’ neck, but to her shock, Chandra blitzed at her side beyond her senses, blood draining through necrotic wound in his neck as a glowing fist struck the mist she became.
Her eyes narrowed, just slightly as a chunk of flesh was torn from her side when she reformed. The deadly assassin lingered only a moment before slipping into the shadows and the rest of her kin followed. Silence held for a few moments before Chandra was sure they had left.
“You’re wounded.” Clovis exclaimed at Chandra.
“It’ll heal.” Chandra smiled and turned to one of the guards. “Tell the other guild leaders to sent more guards.”
---
“Those wretched traitors can turn for all I care!” Odwin roared.
“Then they will add to the scourge’s ranks and threaten the capital even more!”
“This holy ground will not fall to mere vampires!”
“We have more threats than vampires, or have you not noticed? The theocracy is in peril!”
“So then act, damn you!”
The Arbiter banged his gavel thrice to soften the tensions. Argument rather than discourse had held the council these past few days and hardly anything productive had come of it. All had felt the strain of the danger upon them, the cardinals scarcely numbering over 50 now. Though, Johan had no time nor desire to spare on them. He forced the imaginings of people suffering all across the land from his mind and steeled himself in pursuit of his goal.
“We cannot look both ways!” The council turned to his raised voice. “We should focus the inquisitors one of them. The Duchess’ faction would be the easiest, then we can focus all our efforts on the heretic army weakened by the scourge.”
“That is entirely too hopeful, Cardinal Johan.” Luther was the first to dismiss his idea.
“What do you expect from a greenhorn?” Odwin glared his way. “Leave matters of war to those with experience.”
“What better idea do you have?” Johan snapped back. He could not afford to let things unfold as they wished. “My fellow cardinals, the source of the assassins haunting the corner of our eyes is no doubt the aristocracy dissidents. We must eliminate them first, for the sake of the capital.”
Murmurings rose, more favorable than not to his words. The Arbiter glanced around. “All in fav-”
The doors of the council chambers swung open and an imposing figure in grand white robes walked through. The cardinals fell silent at the sudden appearance of the Pope, who entered without warning. He walked to the center of the floor under the eyes of all and spoke.
“My fellow hands… I have come to make a decree in this most darkest hour. An army, half of those remaining, will be raised to march out and crush the heretic and heathens and any who stand against the church.” Johan’s face fell at the Pope’s stoney words. “Cardinal Odwin. I appoint you commander of this crusade. Bring light to the wicked.”
“I will see the work of Sol done!” Odwin couldn’t help but elevate his voice as he stood to accept the position, even a child could see the unrestrained fervor in his face. But few saw the despair on Johan’s nor the sly smile on Luther’s.
---
Odwin donned his armor at last, zealous glee unable to leave his face. The Pope in all his wisdom had just given him the power he needed to wrest control into his worthy hands. He had waited so long, bided his time with gritted teeth, and now it would all pay off. He left his chambers and even the sight of Luther could not ruin his mood.
“My congratulations, Cardinal Odwin.” He greeted as he invited himself to walk alongside Odwin’s brisk pace. “A shame the inquisitors could not see the job done, but… I’m sure you can rectify that. Now that you have an army.”
An unbearable man, Odwin thought. They had colluded to release the restraints for this very reason. There was no need for the ambitious fox to remind him, other than to gloat and reaffirm where they stood.
“I do not have the time to tarry.”
“Of course. Farewell, Cardinal.”
Odwin marched on past the detestable wretch, looking only towards the destination in mind. He would allow that fox to continue wallowing in his conceit still, for once he had purged the vampire scourge from these lands and swept away the traitors, he would set his sights on the heretics within the capital. And nothing would stop him.