"What happened there?" Alicia's voice was subdued. Domen paid no heed to the lass' inquiry, nor did he acknowledge the throbbing torment in his ribs as he quickened his pace in fits, navigating through the residents and rosy-clad medics.

"Seishu-sama!" one of the healers intercepted his shoulder, the others curtsying in unison.

Before Domen could utter a word, a palanquin with blanketed mounds atop was borne past him. He gazed off to the people there and fathomed the foreboding undertone across their concerned glances; people who had always seen him went to the clinic back and forth and were familiar with his presence. Halting the carries abruptly, he insisted they lower the palanquin, then asked one of them to unveil the shroud.

The sallow features that lay there looked all too familiar. Domen’s countenance became as impassive as a wooden plank.

“He cut both hands. We don't know whence he acquired the glass blades." remarked an officer with a tone laden with gravity and ominous.

The blood on either side of the blanket did not escape Domen's observation.

Noticing that Domen did not budge an inch, the officer's breath grew increasingly heavier in his chest. "I'm afraid he won't get the Naikamono—"

The officer's mouth snapped shut by the authority of Domen’s upraised hand. Only then did realisation dawn on him, and it caused gooseflesh to erupt around his neck. How dared he cram theological teachings into the priest's face as if he were one!

After a cursory glance, Domen concealed the stilled face once more and let the carriers proceed with their task. He turned to find Alicia across the throngs, face trembling and overwhelmed. The truth was, the lass felt perturbed since it was unusual to see the priest's face betray not the slightest hint of distress in such circumstances. Why must he restrain himself so?

"Oh, it's a shame, don't you think?" Domen mused to himself upon rejoining the lass.

"I-I'm sorry, Mr Domen. That was horrible," Alicia confessed after craving her way through the remaining onlookers. "I wish we had been faster."

"I'm not grieving," the priest added. "I am disappointed."

"Why would ye be?"

A series of weighty breaths reverberated in Alicia's ears, yet when her eyes met the priest's round ones, they bore no tinge of dampness whatsoever. "He should not have taken his own life, Alicia," he told her. "Those who do so distance themselves from *Naikamono—*the Fruit of Understanding—forever. He will pass into the Eternal Ignorance of Kyozon the Deceiver, unreachable by even the Three Gods. Suicide is sanctioned only for those who are gods forsaken and condemned to death."

Upon hearing this, the breathing distress infected Alicia's lungs. She gritted the teeth behind her lips as she turned over, hands clenched into tight fists. As she dared herself to glance at the palanquin disappearing behind the carriage door, rage and dismay welled up inside her.

"It's their blame," Alicia grumbled. "It's their blame, Lord Domen! They barged into the palace, hounded him relentlessly, made him all paranoid, as if ensuring our downfall against mujinos. Maybe he didnae do it; someone from their scheming lot, they did it!"

"He did," Domen insisted. "In any case, he succumbed to it."

He could instil that conclusion in himself and hardened his heart. But Alicia could insist the otherwise, too. She sincerely wished to unearth this secret sect of bastards who were making the world around them a torment from Tartarus. As of now, Divine forbid.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Alas, such a wish was nought but folly, if not a Herculean undertaking.

"I must depart," Domen declared after a minute of silence. "I will lead his funeral rites. After all, he was once my disciple. Can you return on your own?"

"Uhm, yes..., sure," Alicia enabled herself, albeit with a trace of hesitation.

With tightly pressed lips, Domen bestowed a reassuring pat on the lass’ shoulder. "Go ahead and go back. It's already dark. Do not burden yourself with this. Your duty outweighs mourning a man you barely knew."

Domen dragged himself with his cane in the opposite direction, leaving Alicia to solitude.

***

Alicia stepped out of the Lower City station. The city’s vaulted ceiling still did not take kindly to mimicking the true sky, which still gave off orange gleams in addition to a stud of dim lights. Eight o'clock and the district she was passing through was already deserted.

Little did she know that every dark alleyway she traversed harboured shadowy figures whose eyes were already captivated by her.

"I have to say, today’s been a series of highs and lows," Alicia reflected as if in a soliloquy. "I really feel sorry for Domen and his student, Donbe. I just long to swiftly connect with the subconscious, wipe out all those mujinos, and give that clandestine group a lesson they won't soon forget!”

But first, you have to uncover the origin of the mujinos, Orb cancelled the monologue, thankfully.

A prolonged breath escaped Alicia’s lips. "If only all these meditations pay off in a hurry. I want the soldiers, Wisesa, and Izel to face no bother in getting rid of the monsters.”

I'm more confident they can weather this wave, particularly with Wisesa and the automatons, Orb replied, which triggered a disapproving scowl from Alicia.

Along her route, Alicia saw a bunch of towering men engaged in a conversation beneath the shadows of a lamppost. Homeless, Alicia speculated. This is the first time I've seen homeless on Kagatsean streets.

Yet vagrants and thugs held subtle distinctions—especially when juxtaposed in the dim light.

Alicia's eyes fleetingly passed over one of them before flicking off elsewhere with lightning speed. However, the stranger's eyes were already ensnared with her, and an eternal connection seemed forged. With a tug of the fabric, he brought his friends along and made their way into Alicia's path.

The lass' strides faltered. She regarded them with an uneasy furrow. Not the homeless, Alicia had deduced, swallowing.

"Evening, fair lady," the stranger uttered with a garbled common tongue, his grin belying nothing but lewdness. His clothes were dishevelled, his hair a fluffy yellow, tattoos and piercings all over his body. Not at all like a fanatical hermit but still just as eerie. "Are you alone, Miss?"

"Uh, good evening...?" Despite her outward politeness, Alicia's body had shifted into alert mode. "While it may seem so, how the Divine has cursed you all…, I'm not truly alone."

"Huh? The Divine cursed us? What's that supposed to mean?" the stranger and his companion erupted in laughter. "Hey, tell you what. My friends and I have plans for a fun party at Ai no Ie tonight. We can eat meat and drink milk all night long. Care to join us?"

"Yeah, it's not everyday have the company of a lady!" continued the hooligan's pot-bellied friend, followed by another burst of ominous laughter. The reek of pungent garlic clung to them all.

"Tis a good offer, but sorry, I must decline," Alicia had taken a step back. "I have to return home. Tomorrow is an important day." She bowed and edged to the other side.

"Oh, a polite one!" scoffed the grizzled hooligan, sidling up in the same direction. "I like polite girls. Inside their stiff outer shell, lies their wildest nature... in a party, I mean. Come on, join us for a while. Three hours will do."

"Three hours? Too long. I refuse."

"Two hours!"

"No, thank you."

"One hour. We'll be quick!"

"No, like I said I need to go home and rest, so please, leave me be—"

Alicia turned around, only to discover more audacious individuals from the narrow alley already silhouetted by the lights behind them. Even in the shadows, Alicia could sense how famished they were.

The grizzled hooligan suddenly seized her right arm, while the fat one grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Hey! What are you doing!" Alicia exclaimed while struggling. "Please, let go!"

As the new group of hooligans closed in, Orb electrified Alicia's head with inspiration along with a shrill roar. Alicia cast her horrified gaze towards them, intensifying her thrasings.

"Calm down, missy!" the hooligan's other hand grabbed the lass' tartan robe. "You'll have fun. We will have fun—"

Orb leapt from the waist bag with its retainer rein, and smashed his set of teeth to smithereens! []