“What you’re describing is genocide!” Kamil shouted.

Expressions of disdain and scoffs of annoyance sounded from the gathered Apostles. The statement caught me off guard. Not even I would have used such language when criticizing Melkior’s plans.

“Big word there, chief,” Talwar said with a scowl. There was a note of warning in his voice.

“No, he’s right,” Melkior sighed. “Plan C would be a targeted extermination of a group of people. Definitionally, it’s a genocide.”

An eerie silence filled the Great Hall for more than a dozen seconds. Some Dark Apostles scratched their necks, and some breathed unsteady breaths out through clenched teeth. No one knew who was meant to speak next.

“Do you really think we’ll have to resort to… this, Melkior?” Svenheim asked the Fifth Dark Apostle.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Melkior said. “If containment does not work, then Plan C will become an absolute necessity. We would only resort to Plan C if it is absolutely clear that extermination is necessary. If it’s a choice between death and genocide, I know what I’ll choose.”

When I looked at Melkior in that moment, I saw a deep fear borne out of a palpable awareness of the situation we were in. I realized in that instant that Melkior, Crow, and I were the only ones who truly comprehended how bad our situation was. We were level 100, and, at that moment, none of them were above level 15. Things would not stay that way, however. How long until somebody reached level 80, level 50, even? How long until ten S-ranks of comparable skill and power to Crow started hunting us down like animals? It was a matter of if, not when.

I looked at Crow and Melkior, and I saw that the awareness of our situation had calcified into a dark determination that I could not shatter no matter what I tried. They were two individuals who were very much aware of what they would most likely have to do and were capable of doing what needed to be done.

“Anyway…” Melkior stood up straight and cleared his throat. “There’s a little more I have to go over before the meeting can end.” Melkior once more gestured to the shogi tiles. “We’ll also want to station one Dark Apostle in the areas between the major cities. These Dark Apostles will play shortstop and harass any Revenants that try to travel between the major cities.” I considered inquiring about what exactly a shortstop was, but I could figure it out based on context clues. “I recommend we deploy Enzo to the area between Osiris and New Arcadia, Fatima to the area between Osiris and Fulvang, and Poldra to the area between Fulvang and New Arcadia.”

I looked down at the map and asked, “What exactly would our jobs be as shortstops?”

“Prevent any would-be inter-city travelers from reaching their destination without revealing your identity, naturally,” Melkior said. Seeing my expression, Melkior added another sentence to the end of his statement. “You won’t have to kill them, of course. Revenants can handle a lot of punishment. If you just shoot or stab them in the chest, then I’m sure they’ll retreat back to their cities. It will be the shortstops’ job to stop the Revenants from breaching containment while the other three try to negotiate.”

“I have an objection,” Talwar said, raising his hand. “I would like to stay in Rubigo. Sitting in the Castle for weeks, waiting for orders to come down from Melkior and Crow, isn’t really my style. My legion is right next to the Tenth, so why don’t I take Fatima’s spot?”

Melkior and Talwar looked pointedly at Fatima. Luckily for us, Fatima was amenable to the idea.

“If it’s a choice between the air-conditioned Castle and a military camp surrounded by the same monsters that killed me, I’ll choose the Castle, thank you very much,” Fatima, the Tenth Dark Apostle, said.

“Perfect,” Melkior said while moving a small blue die from the shogi piece marked with a 10 to the shogi piece marked with a 2. “If no one else has anything to say, then I think that’s the end of our first strategy session. Remember, we’re going for ‘Plan A’ right now. The three negotiators - Svenheim, Null, and Kamil - will work to convince the Revenants to live peacefully with us while the three shortstops - Enzo, Talwar, and Poldra - will work to keep them contained in the major cities. Are there any objections?”

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There was a smattering of annoyed grumbling from the low-numbered Apostles, but most of them didn’t say anything audibly. Talwar said, “I still think it’s a mistake to give them even a little leeway, but I see that my opinion is in the minority.”

With that, the first strategy meeting of the Dark Apostles ended. We were significantly less productive throughout the rest of the day. Food was served in the Great Hall, and I ate even though I wasn’t hungry. About half of the Dark Apostles went to the city that Castle Bosporus overlooked, though I stayed behind. The city was called Ternarus, if I remember correctly.

Melkior and Crow said we were shipping out the next day, and we would only be able to bring a small five by five foot metal box with us. I spent much of the rest of November 2nd packing clothes, food, and weapons into the box. It was late in the day when I remembered the promise I had made to my sorcerers.

At about five p.m., I peeked my head out of the empty threshold to my quarters and looked over at the five sorcerers who had been waiting out there for several hours.

“I almost forgot,” I said, “I still need to name you all. Come into my quarters, all of you. That’s an order.”

The five sorcerers slowly made their way past the empty threshold and the great stone slab. Soon after the last of them entered my quarters, I moved the several-ton stone slab back to its natural place guarding my home from intruders.

“So, I haven’t seen four of your faces, and I haven’t heard three of your voices. In order for me to give each of you a name, I need to see your face and hear your voice. If possible, I would like to do that here. It’s just the six of us, and our fates are inextricably bound together. I’d say it’s time for all of us to get to know one another.”

With a muttered, “Yes, sir,” the four sorcerers other than Amber all removed their masks. I gestured for Amber to do the same, and she too removed her mask.

The older man spoke first. He said, “I will strive to serve you to the best of my ability, Lord Enzo.”

Now that I could see the older man’s face, it surprised me to see that his skin was a dark brown. The only NPCs I had seen before that point had been fair skinned. I wanted to ask about the nature of race in Ferrum, but I decided that it wasn’t the right time for that.

“I will call you Isaac,” I said to the older man.

I turned to the older woman standing next to Isaac. She had a face that matched what I had come to expect from her based on her gait. The older woman must have been in her late twenties or early thirties, and she looked at me with a mixture of religious fervor and poorly suppressed desire. Her lips were full and covered in scarlet lipstick. She spoke and said in a voice that bordered on improper, “I am happy to serve you, my Lord. Please, if there is anything you need, just ask.”

“Carmilla,” I said. The name came to me immediately. With Isaac, I had to think for a few seconds when deciding a name, but the name for Carmilla was obvious. “That will be your name.”

The younger woman was next in the lineup. Her timid gait and small size made me think that she was a child before she took off her mask, but I was less sure at that moment. Her features made me think that she could be in her early twenties, and her expression made me think that she wanted to curl up in a corner. She absolutely refused to meet my eyes as she spoke. “H-hello. I-I am not worthy of serving you, my Lord.”

“Your name will be Iris,” I said. I had to stop myself from patting the poor girl on the head. One, it would be improper. Two, I wasn’t quite in full control of my strength yet. I could hurt her.

The last sorcerer in the line was the younger man. He was by far the tallest of the sorcerers - he was even taller than me - and he had the build of an athlete. If not for the fact that my Strength score was 48, I would have been convinced that the man was stronger than me. His hair was cut short in a military style, and his eyes held a strong determination. The younger man said, “My Lord. My life is yours.”

I paused for a long moment when thinking of a name for the younger man. I thought of knights and soldiers, but none of the names quite fit. Then I snapped my fingers and said, “Athos. That will be your name.”

“So,” I went back to the front of the line and started listing out the names of the sorcerers. “Amber, Isaac, Carmilla, Iris, and Athos. Those will be your names from now on.”

I turned toward the large stone slab and went to move it. By the time I re-entered my quarters, the sorcerers were flipping their hoods back over their heads and re-securing their masks.

“That’s all for today,” I said. “Go back to your own quarters for now. I’ll see you all at sunrise.”

End of the Castle Bosporus Arc.